original short stories-13-第16节

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followed；　as　in　a　funeral　procession；　by　the　victorious　genius　of　England
robed　in　a　gray　ulster。

On　the　shingly　beach　the　four　bearers　halted　a　few　moments　to　take
breath；　and　then　proceeded　on　their　way。　　They　now　walked　quickly；
bending　beneath　the　weight　of　their　burden。　　At　length　they　reached　the
funeral　pile。　　It　was　erected　in　an　indentation；　at　the　very　foot　of　the
cliff；　which　rose　above　it　perpendicularly　a　hundred　meters　high；
perfectly　white　but　looking　gray　in　the　night。

The　funeral　pile　was　about　three　and　a　half　feet　high。　　The　corpse　was
placed　on　it　and　then　one　of　the　Indians　asked　to　have　the　pole　star
pointed　out　to　him。　　This　was　done；　and　the　dead　Rajah　was　laid　with　his
feet　turned　towards　his　native　country。　　Then　twelve　bottles　of　kerosene
were　poured　over　him　and　he　was　covered　completely　with　thin　slabs　of
pine　wood。　　For　almost　another　hour　the　relations　and　servants　kept
piling　up　the　funeral　pyre　which　looked　like　one　of　those　piles　of　wood
that　carpenters　keep　in　their　yards。　　Then　on　top　of　this　was　poured　the
contents　of　twenty　bottles　of　oil；　and　on　top　of　all　they　emptied　a　bag
of　fine　shavings。　　A　few　steps　further　on；　a　flame　was　glimmering　in　a
little　bronze　brazier；　which　had　remained　lighted　since　the　arrival　of
the　corpse。

The　moment　had　arrived。　　The　relations　went　to　fetch　the　fire。　　As　it　was
barely　alight；　some　oil　was　poured　on　it；　and　suddenly　a　flame　arose
lighting　up　the　great　wall　of　rock　from　summit　to　base。　　An　Indian　who
was　leaning　over　the　brazier　rose　upright；　his　two　hands　in　the　air；　his
elbows　bent；　and　all　at　once　we　saw　arising；　all　black　on　the　immense
white　cliff；　a　colossal　shadow；　the　shadow　of　Buddha　in　his　hieratic
posture。　　And　the　little　pointed　toque　that　the　man　wore　on　his　head　even
looked　like　the　head…dress　of　the　god。

The　effect　was　so　striking　and　unexpected　that　I　felt　my　heart　beat　as
though　some　supernatural　apparition　had　risen　up　before　me。

That　was　just　what　it　wasthe　ancient　and　sacred　image；　come　from　the
heart　of　the　East　to　the　ends　of　Europe；　and　watching　over　its　son　whom
they　were　going　to　cremate　there。

It　vanished。　　They　brought　fire。　　The　shavings　on　top　of　the　pyre　were
lighted　and　then　the　wood　caught　fire　and　a　brilliant　light　illumined　the
cliff；　the　shingle　and　the　foam　of　the　waves　as　they　broke　on　the　beach。

It　grew　brighter　from　second　to　second；　lighting　up　on　the　sea　in　the
distance　the　dancing　crest　of　the　waves。

The　breeze　from　the　ocean　blew　in　gusts；　increasing　the　heat　of　the　flame
which　flattened　down；　twisted；　then　shot　up　again；　throwing　out　millions
of　sparks。　　They　mounted　with　wild　rapidity　along　the　cliff　and　were　lost
in　the　sky；　mingling　with　the　stars；　increasing　their　number。　　Some　sea
birds　who　had　awakened　uttered　their　plaintive　cry；　and；　describing　long
curves；　flew；　with　their　white　wings　extended；　through　the　gleam　from　the
funeral　pyre　and　then　disappeared　in　the　night。

Before　long　the　pile　of　wood　was　nothing　but　a　mass　of　flame；　not　red　but
yellow；　a　blinding　yellow；　a　furnace　lashed　by　the　wind。　　And；　suddenly；
beneath　a　stronger　gust；　it　tottered；　partially　crumbling　as　it　leaned
towards　the　sea；　and　the　corpse　came　to　view；　full　length；　blackened　on
his　couch　of　flame　and　burning　with　long　blue　flames：

The　pile　of　wood　having　crumbled　further　on　the　right　the　corpse　turned
over　as　a　man　does　in　bed。　　They　immediately　covered　him　with　fresh　wood
and　the　fire　started　up　again　more　furiously　than　ever。

The　East　Indians；　seated　in　a　semi…circle　on　the　shingle；　looked　out　with
sad；　serious　faces。　　And　the　rest　of　us；　as　it　was　very　cold；　had　drawn
nearer　to　the　fire　until　the　smoke　and　sparks　came　in　our　faces。　　There
was　no　odor　save　that　of　burning　pine　and　petroleum。

Hours　passed；　day　began　to　break。　　Toward　five　o'clock　in　the　morning
nothing　remained　but　a　heap　of　ashes。　　The　relations　gathered　them　up；
cast　some　of　them　to　the　winds；　some　in　the　sea；　and　kept　some　in　a　brass
vase　that　they　had　brought　from　India。　　They　then　retired　to　their　home
to　give　utterance　to　lamentations。

These　young　princes　and　their　servants；　by　the　employment　of　the　most
inadequate　appliances　succeeded　in　carrying　out　the　cremation　of　their
relation　in　the　most　perfect　manner；　with　singular　skill　and　remarkable
dignity。　　Everything　was　done　according　to　ritual；　according　to　the　rigid
ordinances　of　their　religion。　　Their　dead　one　rests　in　peace。

The　following　morning　at　daybreak　there　was　an　indescribable　commotion　in
Etretat。　　Some　insisted　that　they　had　burned　a　man　alive；　others　that
they　were　trying　to　hide　a　crime；　some　that　the　mayor　would　be　put　in
jail；　others　that　the　Indian　prince　had　succumbed　to　an　attack　of
cholera。

The　men　were　amazed；　the　women　indignant。　　A　crowd　of　people　spent　the
day　on　the　site　of　the　funeral　pile；　looking　for　fragments　of　bone　in　the
shingle　that　was　still　warm。　　They　found　enough　bones　to　reconstruct　ten
skeletons；　for　the　farmers　on　shore　frequently　throw　their　dead　sheep
into　the　sea。　　The　finders　carefully　placed　these　various　fragments　in
their　pocketbooks。　　But　not　one　of　them　possesses　a　true　particle　of　the
Indian　prince。

That　very　night　a　deputy　sent　by　the　government　came　to　hold　an　inquest。
He；　however；　formed　an　estimate　of　this　singular　case　like　a　man　of
intelligence　and　good　sense。　　But　what　should　he　say　in　his　report？

The　East　Indians　declared　that　if　they　had　been　prevented　in　France　from
cremating　their　dead　they　would　have　taken　him　to　a　freer　country　where
they　could　have　carried　out　their　customs。

Thus；　I　have　seen　a　man　cremated　on　a　funeral　pile；　and　it　has　given　me　a
wish　to　disappear　in　the　same　manner。

In　this　way　everything　ends　at　once。　　Man　expedites　the　slow　work　of
nature；　instead　of　delaying　it　by　the　hideous　coffin　in　which　one
decomposes　for　months。　　The　flesh　is　dead；　the　spirit　has　fled。　　Fire
which　purifies　disperses　in　a　few　hours　all　that　was　a　human　being；　it
casts　it　to　the　winds；　converting　it　into　air　and　ashes；　and　not　into
ignominious　corruption。

This　is　clean　and　hygienic。　　Putrefaction　beneath　the　ground　in　a　closed
box　where　the　body　becomes　like　pap；　a　blackened；　stinking　pap；　has　about
it　something　repugnant　and　disgusting。　　The　sight　of　the　coffin　as　it
descends　into　this　muddy　hole　wrings　one's　heart　with　anguish。　　But　the
funeral　pyre　which　flames　up　beneath　the　sky　has　about　it　something
grand；　beautiful　and　solemn。






MISTI

I　was　very　much　interested　at　that　time　in　a　droll　little　woman。　　She　was
married；　of　course；　as　I　have　a　horror　of　unmarried　flirts。　　What
enjoyment　is　there　in　making　love　to　a　woman　who　belongs　to　nobody　and
yet　belongs　to　any　one？　　And；　besides；　morality　aside；　I　do　not
understand　love　as　a　trade。　　That　disgusts　me　somewhat。

The　especial　attraction　in　a　married　woman　to　a　bachelor　is　that　she
gives　him　a　home；　a　sweet；　pleasant　home　where　every　one　takes　care　of
you　and　spoils　you；　from　the　husband　to　the　servants。　　One　finds
everything　combined　there；　love；　friendship；　even　fatherly　interest；　bed
and　board；　all；　in　fact；　that　constitutes　the　happiness　of　life；　with
this　incalculable　advantage；　that　one　can　change　one's　family　from　time
to　time；　take　up　one's　abode　in　all　kinds　of　society　in　turn：　in　summer；
in　the　country　with　the　workman　who　rents　you　a　room　in　his　house；　in
winter　with　the　townsfolk；　or　even　with　the　nobility；　if　one　is
ambitious。

I　have　another　weakness；　it　is　that　I　become　attached　to　the　husband　as
well　as　the　wife。　　I　acknowledge　even　that　some　husbands；　ordinary　or
coarse　as　they　may　be；　give　me　a　feeling　of　disgust　for　their　wives；
however　charming　they　may　be。　　But　when　the　husband　is　intellectual　or
charming　I　invariably　become　very　much　attached　to　him。　　I　am　careful　if
I　quarrel　with　the　wife　not　to　quarrel　with　the　husband。　　In　this　way　I
have　made　some　of　my　best　friends；　and　have　also　proved　in　many　cases　the
incontestable　superiority　of　the　male　over　the　female　in　the　human
species。　　The　latter　makes　all　sorts　of　trouble…scenes；　reproaches；　etc。；
while　the　former；　who　has　just　as　good　a　right　to　complain；　treats　you；
on　the　contrary；　as　though　you　were　the　special　Providence　of　his　hearth。

Well；　my　friend　was　a　quaint　little　woman；　a　brunette；　fanciful；
capricious；　pious；　superstitious；　credulous　as　a　monk；　but　charming。
She　had　a　way　of　kissing　one　that　I　never　saw　in　any　one　elsebut　that
was　not　the　attractionand　such　a　soft　skin！　　It　gave　me　intense　delight
merely　to　hold　her　hands。　　And　an　eyeher　glance　was　like　a　slow　caress；
delicious　and　unending。　　Sometimes　I　would　lean　my　head　on　her　knee　and
we　would　remain　motionless；　she　leaning　over　me　with　that　subtle；
enigmatic；　disturbing　smile　that　women　have；　while　my　eyes　would　be
raised　to　hers；　drinking　sweetly　and　deliciously　into　my　heart；　like　a
form　of　intoxication；　the　glance　of　her　limpid　blue　eyes；　limpid　as
though　they　were　full　of　thoughts　of　love；　and　blue　as　though　they　were　a
heaven　of　delights。

Her　husband；　inspector　of　some　large　public　works；　was　frequently　away
from　home　and　left　us　our　evenings　free。　　Sometimes　I　spent