the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第79节

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What　was　most　irritating　Tchernoff　was　the　moral　lesson　born　of　this　situation　which　had　ended　by　overwhelming　the　worldthe　glorification　of　power；　the　sanctification　of　success；　the　triumph　of　materialism；　the　respect　for　the　accomplished　fact；　the　mockery　of　the　noblest　sentiments　as　though　they　were　merely　sonorous　and　absurd　phrases；　the　reversal　of　moral　values　。　。　。　a　philosophy　of　bandits　which　pretended　to　be　the　last　word　of　progress；　and　was　no　more　than　a　return　to　despotism；　violence；　and　the　barbarity　of　the　most　primitive　epochs　of　history。

While　he　was　longing　for　the　suppression　of　the　representatives　of　this　tendency；　he　would　not；　therefore；　demand　the　extermination　of　the　German　people。

〃This　nation　has　great　merits　jumbled　with　bad　conditions　inherited　from　a　not　far…distant；　barbarous　past。　　It　possesses　the　genius　of　organization　and　work；　and　is　able　to　lend　great　service　to　humanity。　。　。　。　　But　first　it　is　necessary　to　give　it　a　douchethe　douche　of　downfall。　　The　Germans　are　mad　with　pride　and　their　madness　threatens　the　security　of　the　world。　　When　those　who　have　poisoned　them　with　the　illusion　of　universal　hegemony　have　disappeared；　when　misfortune　has　freshened　their　imagination　and　transformed　them　into　a　community　of　humans；　neither　superior　nor　inferior　to　the　rest　of　mankind；　they　will　become　a　tolerant　people；　useful　。　。　。　and　who　knows　but　they　may　even　prove　sympathetic！〃

According　to　Tchernoff；　there　was　not　in　existence　to…day　a　more　dangerous　nation。　　Its　political　organization　was　converting　it　into　a　warrior　horde；　educated　by　kicks　and　submitted　to　continual　humiliations　in　order　that　the　willpower　which　always　resists　discipline　might　be　completely　nullified。

〃It　is　a　nation　where　all　receive　blows　and　desire　to　give　them　to　those　lower　down。　　The　kick　that　the　Kaiser　gives　is　transmitted　from　back　to　back　down　to　the　lowest　rung　of　the　social　ladder。　　The　blows　begin　in　the　school　and　are　continued　in　the　barracks；　forming　part　of　the　education。　　The　apprenticeship　of　the　Prussian　Crown　Princes　has　always　consisted　in　receiving　fisticuffs　and　cowhidings　from　their　progenitor；　the　king。　　The　Kaiser　beats　his　children；　the　officer　his　soldiers；　the　father　his　wife　and　children；　the　schoolmaster　his　pupils；　and　when　the　superior　is　not　able　to　give　blows；　he　subjects　those　under　him　to　the　torment　of　moral　insult。〃

On　this　account；　when　they　abandoned　their　ordinary　avocations；　taking　up　arms　in　order　to　fall　upon　another　human　group；　they　did　so　with　implacable　ferocity。

〃Each　one　of　them；〃　continued　the　Russian；　〃carries　on　his　back　the　marks　of　kicks；　and　when　his　turn　comes；　he　seeks　consolation　in　passing　them　on　to　the　unhappy　creatures　whom　war　puts　into　his　power。　　This　nation　of　war…lords；　as　they　love　to　call　themselves；　aspires　to　lordship；　but　outside　of　the　country。　　Within　it；　are　the　ones　who　least　appreciate　human　dignity　and；　therefore；　long　vehemently　to　spread　their　dominant　will　over　the　face　of　the　earth；　passing　from　lackeys　to　lords。〃

Suddenly　Don　Marcelo　stopped　going　with　such　frequency　to　the　studio。　　He　was　now　haunting　the　home　and　office　of　the　senator；　because　this　friend　had　upset　his　tranquillity。　　Lacour　had　been　much　depressed　since　the　heir　to　the　family　glory　had　broken　through　the　protecting　paternal　net　in　order　to　go　to　war。

One　night；　while　dining　with　the　Desnoyers　family；　an　idea　popped　into　his　head　which　filled　him　with　delight。　　〃Would　you　like　to　see　your　son？〃　　He　needed　to　see　Rene　and　had　begun　negotiating　for　a　permit　from　headquarters　which　would　allow　him　to　visit　the　front。　His　son　belonged　to　the　same　army　division　as　Julio；　perhaps　their　camps　were　rather　far　apart；　but　an　automobile　makes　many　revolutions　before　it　reaches　the　end　of　its　journey。

It　was　not　necessary　to　say　more。　　Desnoyers　instantly　felt　the　most　overmastering　desire　to　see　his　boy；　since；　for　so　many　months；　he　had　had　to　content　himself　with　reading　his　letters　and　studying　the　snap　shot　which　one　of　his　comrades　had　made　of　his　soldier　son。

From　that　time　on；　he　besieged　the　senator　as　though　he　were　a　political　supporter　desiring　an　office。　　He　visited　him　in　the　mornings　in　his　home；　invited　him　to　dinner　every　evening；　and　hunted　him　down　in　the　salons　of　the　Luxembourg。　　Before　the　first　word　of　greeting　could　be　exchanged；　his　eyes　were　formulating　the　same　interrogation。　。　。　。　　〃When　will　you　get　that　permit？〃

The　great　man　could　only　reply　by　lamenting　the　indifference　of　the　military　department　toward　the　civilian　element；　it　always　had　been　inimical　toward　parliamentarism。

〃Besides；　Joffre　is　showing　himself　most　unapproachable；　he　does　not　encourage　the　curious。　。　。　。　　To…morrow　I　will　see　the　President。〃

A　few　days　later；　he　arrived　at　the　house　in　the　avenue　Victor　Hugo；　with　an　expression　of　radiant　satisfaction　that　filled　Don　Marcelo　with　joy。

〃It　has　come？〃

〃It　has　come。　。　。　。　　We　start　the　day　after　to…morrow。〃

Desnoyers　went　the　following　afternoon　to　the　studio　in　the　rue　de　la　Pompe。

〃I　am　going　to…morrow！〃

The　artist　was　very　eager　to　accompany　him。　　Would　it　not　be　possible　for　him　to　go；　too；　as　secretary　to　the　senator？　。　。　。　　Don　Marcelo　smiled　benevolently。　　The　authorization　was　only　for　Lacour　and　one　companion。　　He　was　the　one　who　was　going　to　pose　as　secretary；　valet　or　utility　man　to　his　future　relative…in…law。

At　the　end　of　the　afternoon；　he　left　the　studio；　accompanied　to　the　elevator　by　the　lamentations　of　Argensola。　　To　think　that　he　could　not　join　that　expedition！　。　。　。　　He　believed　that　he　had　lost　the　opportunity　to　paint　his　masterpiece。

Just　outside　of　his　home；　he　met　Tchernoff。　　Don　Marcelo　was　in　high　good　humor。　　The　certainty　that　he　was　soon　going　to　see　his　son　filled　him　with　boyish　good　spirits。　　He　almost　embraced　the　Russian　in　spite　of　his　slovenly　aspect；　his　tragic　beard　and　his　enormous　hat　which　made　every　one　turn　to　look　after　him。

At　the　end　of　the　avenue；　the　Arc　de　Triomphe　stood　forth　against　a　sky　crimsoned　by　the　sunset。　　A　red　cloud　was　floating　around　the　monument；　reflected　on　its　whiteness　with　purpling　palpitations。

Desnoyers　recalled　the　four　horsemen；　and　all　that　Argensola　had　told　him　before　presenting　him　to　the　Russian。

〃Blood！〃　shouted　jubilantly。　　〃All　the　sky　seems　to　be　blood…red。　。　。　。　It　is　the　apocalyptic　beast　who　has　received　his　death…wound。　Soon　we　shall　see　him　die。〃

Tchernoff　smiled；　too；　but　his　was　a　melancholy　smile。

〃No；　the　beast　does　not　die。　　It　is　the　eternal　companion　of　man。　It　hides；　spouting　blood；　forty　。　。　。　sixty　。　。　。　a　hundred　years；　but　eventually　it　reappears。　　All　that　we　can　hope　is　that　its　wound　may　be　long　and　deep；　that　it　may　remain　hidden　so　long　that　the　generation　that　now　remembers　it　may　never　see　it　again。〃



CHAPTER　III

WAR


Don　Marcelo　was　climbing　up　a　mountain　covered　with　woods。

The　forest　presented　a　tragic　desolation。　　A　silent　tempest　had　installed　itself　therein；　placing　everything　in　violent　unnatural　positions。　　Not　a　single　tree　still　preserved　its　upright　form　and　abundant　foliage　as　in　the　days　of　peace。　　The　groups　of　pines　recalled　the　columns　of　ruined　temples。　　Some　were　still　standing　erect；　but　without　their　crowns；　like　shafts　that　might　have　lost　their　capitals；　others　were　pierced　like　the　mouthpiece　of　a　flute；　or　like　pillars　struck　by　a　thunderbolt。　　Some　had　splintery　threads　hanging　around　their　cuts　like　used　toothpicks。

A　sinister　force　of　destruction　had　been　raging　among　these　beeches；　spruce　and　oaks。　　Great　tangles　of　their　cut　boughs　were　cluttering　the　ground；　as　though　a　band　of　gigantic　woodcutters　had　just　passed　by。　　The　trunks　had　been　severed　a　little　distance　from　the　ground　with　a　clean　and　glistening　stroke；　as　though　with　a　single　blow　of　the　axe。　　Around　the　disinterred　roots　were　quantities　of　stones　mixed　with　sod；　stones　that　had　been　sleeping　in　the　recesses　of　the　earth　and　had　been　brought　to　the　surface　by　explosions。

At　intervalsgleaming　among　the　trees　or　blocking　the　roadway　with　an　importunity　which　required　some　zigzaggingwas　a　series　of　pools；　all　alike；　of　regular　geometrical　circles。　　To　Desnoyers；　they　seemed　like　sunken　basins　for　the　use　of　the　invisible　Titans　who　had　been　hewing　the　forest。　　Their　great　depth　extended　to　their　very　edges。　　A　swimmer　might　dive　into　these　lagoons　without　ever　touching　bottom。　　Their　water　was　greenish；　still　waterrain　water　with　a　scum　of　vegetation　perforated　by　the　respiratory　bubbles　of　the　little　organisms　coming　to　life　in　its　vitals。

Bordering　the　hilly　pathway　through　the　pines；　were　many　mounds　with　crosses　of　woodtombs　of　French　soldiers　topped　with　little　tricolored　flags。　　Upon　these　moss…covered　graves　were　the　old　kepis　of　the　gunners。　　The　ferocious　wood…chopper；　in　destroying　this　woods；　had　also　blindly　demolished　many　of　the　ants　swarming　around　the　trunks。

Don　Marcelo　was　wearing　leggings；　a　broad　hat；　and　on　his　shoulders；　a　fine　poncho　arranged　like　a　shawlgarments　which　recalled　his　far…distant　life　on　the　ranch。　　Behind　him　came　Lacour　trying　to　preserve　his　senatorial　dignity　in　spite　of　his　gasps　and　puffs　of　fatigue。　　He　also　was　we