Complete Works of Emile Zola (1654 page)

The future was already being realized a little more each day. As they all returned to Guerdache they stopped a moment before the façade at the left of the entrance, under the very windows of the room where Monsieur Jérôme had died. From thence the roofs of Beauclair could be seen in the distance, between the tops of the tall trees, and farther off La Crêcherie and the Pit. They gazed upon the vast horizon in silence. The Pit could be clearly distinguished, reconstructed, as it was, on the model of La Crêcherie, and forming with the latter one town where labor, reorganized and ennobled, became dignity, health, and gayety. Each day more justice and love were born. The advancing tide of little houses smiling among verdure, that tide which Delaveau had watched, with uneasiness, steadily advancing, had just reached the dark and ancient town, thus increasing, without arrest, the future city. These houses now occupied all the space from the slope of the Monts Bleuses to the Mionne; they would soon cross the narrow torrent, and sweep away old Beauclair, that sordid accumulation of hovels of servitude and wretchedness. And they would extend even to the fertile fields of Roumagne, forming a city of justice, freedom, and happiness.

CHAPTER II

WHILE evolution was slowly progressing in Beauclair, while a new destiny for the city was becoming established by a beneficent hand, and was daily acquiring new strength, love — young, gay, and victorious — came into it with his irresistible power, marriages took place among the people, amalgamating classes, promoting harmony, and making peace. Victorious love overthrew obstacles, triumphed over the most obstinate resistance, producing a passionate desire for happiness in this life, for joy that responded to sunshine, and awakening new love of life, with aspirations for love and for happy parentage.

Of this last Luc and Josine had given the example. During the years that had elapsed since their marriage they had raised a large family — three boys and two girls. The eldest boy, Hilaire, who was born before the Pit was burned, was now eleven. Then two years apart came Charles, now nine; Thérèse, seven; Pauline, five; and Jules, three. The old house had been enlarged by a new wing, and there these children grew up with hope and laughter, ready to promote future associations. As Luc delighted to say to Josine, who smiled back at him, their own love increased as children were born to them, for she seemed more and more to belong to him as each child came. The woman he had once passionately loved, and for whose sake he had heroically entered on the great struggle of his life, was now a mother surrounded by her little ones in that home life which he now labored for everywhere, bringing peace where he had already proved a conqueror.

He and his wife still loved each other as lovers; for love does not grow old, it remains the eternal flame of an immortal brazier which nourishes the life of worlds. No house had ever contained more joy and cheerfulness than theirs; it was full of children and of flowers. They loved one another so dearly and so cheerfully that no grief ever seemed to come among them. And when some sorrowful recollection came to Josine, as she remembered past suffering and the gulf in which she would have perished but for the helping hand of Luc, she would clasp him round the neck with an uncontrollable impulse of gratitude, while he, much moved in his turn, would feel that she was the dearer for the wickedness and wretchedness from which he had saved her.

“Ah! how much I love you, my dear Luc! How can I ever thank you enough for having made me what I am, so respected and so happy.”

“Dear, dear Josine, it is I who ought to love you fondly and gratefully, for without you what I have done would never have been accomplished.”

And both felt the pure influence of the spirit of peace and righteousness which seemed to be part of themselves. They said:

“We must love others as we love each other, for love is the flame that draws all creatures together; our happiness as lovers and as a married pair will last only so long as all are happy. Divine Love, since nothing can exist but by Thee, aid us to complete our work, quicken all hearts, make all married couples in our city love one another and be blessed with loving children, joining in the universal happiness which ought to weld us all together!”

This was what they sportively called the “oraison” of the new religion of humanity. And in their own home, perfumed with affection, the flower of love bloomed deliciously during the years that followed the fire in the Pit. Nanet — little Nanet — who was growing to be a man, dwelt in Luc’s house, with his “big sister,” as he still called Josine. He was very intelligent, very brave, always on the watch to engage in any enterprise, and he so fascinated Luc that he became his dearest pupil, a disciple who, though young as yet, was thoroughly impregnated by the teaching of his master. Meantime, living with the Jordans, whose house was not far off, Nise — little Nise — was growing up, too, loving and beloved by Sœurette, who had taken charge of her the day after the catastrophe, happy in having an adopted child, and in having found in her a charming companion and a helper. In this way the young people, seeing each other every day, ended at last by living only for each other. Had they not belonged to each other from their infancy, in that far-off time when Love, the boy, divinely innocent, inspired them with an eager desire to see each other and to play together, tempting them to brave punishments and to climb walls to meet each other?. They were then fair and curly, like little sheep; they laughed the same silvery laughs when they fell into each other’s arms every time they met, without knowing that a whole world kept them asunder, she the
bourgeoise,
the little daughter of the master of the works, he the street gamin, the poor son of a wretched manual laborer. Then came that frightful storm of flame. The great fire brought them again together; they seemed at the moment that he rescued her to be melted into one. Nise was saved clinging to Nanet’s neck; both were badly burned; both had been at one moment in great danger. And now that they were once more fair with heads of curls, they laughed with the same ringing laugh, they had the same air, they were just like each other. She was a grown girl; he was a tall boy; she adored him; he did the same by her.

This idyll lasted seven years more, while Luc fashioned Nanet into a man, and Sœurette helped Nise to grow in goodness and in beauty. She was thirteen at the time when her father and mother so frightfully perished. Their bodies, burned to ashes, had never been recovered from the ruins. She long shuddered at the remembrance of that catastrophe, and as there was no hurry their friends thought it best to wait until Nise was twenty before deciding on their marriage, for then she could act for herself, uninfluenced by others. Nanet, too, was very young, barely three years older than Nise; he was still an apprentice under the affectionate superintendence of a master. What was more, they were so merry and so playful that they never seemed impatient to be married. They were always delighted to be together, to pass whole days laughing and looking into each other’s eyes. Every evening they spent together, giving each other laughable narratives of what had happened to them during the day, commonplace things, mere nothings, and almost always the same. They held each other’s hands sometimes for hours; this was their great delight, after which came the hearty kiss which they exchanged before parting. However, this good understanding, so tender and so true, had its little lovers’ quarrels. Nanet sometimes thought Nise too proud and too opinionated. She liked, he told her, to play the princess. She was too fond of admiration; she loved beautiful clothes and
fêtes
where she might wear them. It was no fault, she thought, to be beautiful; it was, on the contrary, a woman’s duty to be as handsome as she could. But what was not pretty, Nanet said, was to injure her beauty by airs that showed her contempt for persons beneath her station. Nise, who inherited something of her mother’s love of pleasure and of her father’s despotic disposition, got angry at this at first, being desirous of being held by Nanet to be perfection. Then, as she adored him, she confessed she had been wrong; she listened to him; she was anxious to please him by becoming exactly what was best in his eyes, the most sweet and simple of all women. And when she did not succeed, which sometimes happened in those days, she said, laughing, that her daughter, if she ever had one, would no doubt suit him much better, because the blood of princes required time to democratize itself through several generations.

At last, when Nanet was twenty-three, they were married. The wedding-day had been hoped for, looked forward to, and waited for seven years. During that time there had not passed a day in which a step had not been made towards the conclusion of that long and happy engagement. And as in this marriage the daughter of Delaveau wedded the brother of Josine, the wife of Luc, all past hatreds seemed extinguished, the compact of friendliness seemed ratified, and there was a feeling that the occasion should be glorified and be made a
fête
that should emphasize pardon of the past and a happy entrance into a new future. It was decided that singing and dancing should take place on the site of the old Pit, in one of the halls of the new works which extended from La Crêcherie, stretching out the industrial city, which now occupied many acres and was continually growing.

Luc and Sœurette gayly superintended all the preparations; they organized the marriage
fête,
and were the legal witnesses, Luc for Nanet, Sœurette for Nise. They wanted to make of it a burst of triumph — a rejoicing over hopes already realized, a demonstration of the victory gained by the city of labor and peace, now prosperous and secure on its foundations. It is well for all people to take part in great rejoicings; public life needs days of joy, beauty, and enthusiasm. So Luc and Sœurette chose a hall of the great foundry — an immense place with its monstrous hammers, its gigantic travelling and movable cranes, all of prodigious power. The new buildings were full of light; they were built of bricks and steel; they were clean and wholesome, cheerfully lighted by great glass windows which let in air and sunshine in abundance. The machinery was not disturbed, for it was thought that nothing could be more appropriate on this celebration of triumphant labor than an exhibition of these mighty giants raising their shafts in great dark lines of puissant beauty — a beauty true to combination, strength, and precision. But they were adorned with green boughs; they were crowned with flowers as a mark of homage, as in old times men crowned altars. The brick walls were covered with garlands; they scattered on the pavement roses and flowering heather. It seemed like the flowering of human effort, that had been made through long ages to attain happiness. Happiness had suddenly burst into flower, perfuming the toil of the workman, which had formerly been so unjust and so severe; but now labor was free, attractive, and made everybody happy.

The two marriage processions set out, one from the home of the bridegroom, the other from that of the bride. Luc led Nanet, followed by Josine and by their children, while Sœurette led Nise, the adopted daughter of her brother Jordan and herself. That day, too, Jordan left his laboratory, in which he had passed whole years — years which had gone by him like hours while he was indefatigably engaged in researches and discoveries. The whole population of the new city, where all the works were stopped in sign of rejoicing, gathered on the line of march to cheer the bridal couple. The sun shone; the houses were gay with bright colors; the gardens were full of birds and flowers. And behind the bridal parties came a crowd of workers, a great assemblage of happy people, who soon overflowed the vast halls, though they were as broad and high as the aisles of a cathedral. But it was to the hall of the great foundry that the marriage procession bent its steps, and soon, large as it was, it proved too small for the occasion. Besides Luc, his family, and the Jordans, the Boisgelins were there; there were also present Paul, second cousin of the bride, and Antoinette; then there were the Bonnaires, the Bourrons, and the Fauchards — in fact, all the workmen whose strong arms had assisted to bring about this victory for labor. They swarmed, these men of good will and strong faith, who had assisted the enterprise from the first. Was not the crowd of co-workers who were present in some sort their family, brothers whose numbers multiplied from day to day? They were five thousand now; soon they would be ten thousand, one hundred thousand, a million, all the human race in the end! And the marriage ceremony held beneath those powerful machines, that were garlanded with greenery and flowers, was of a very touching simplicity.

Luc and Sœurette, smiling, joined the hands of Nise and Nanet, saying:

“Love each other with all your hearts, be one in body and in soul, and be the parents of beautiful children, loving each other, as they will love you.”

Those present shouted. The word on their lips was love. Love was proclaimed king, who alone can make labor fruitful, by making the human race more and more numerous, and kindling in all that flame which is the source of life.

But already Nise and Nanet began to feel that the ceremony was too solemn to suit them. They had loved each other as playfellows from early childhood. The two little curly sheep might, indeed, be grown up now, but they seemed still like playmates, in their wedding - garments, white and soft and charming. So they were not satisfied with this ceremonious joining of their hands; they fell into the arms of each other, crying:

“Ah! my little Nise, how happy I am now I have got you! I have been waiting for this moment for years and years.”

“Ah! my little Nanet, how glad I am to be yours at last, for it is most true that you have bravely won me!”

“Little Nise, do you remember how I pulled you up by the arms that you might get over the wall, and how I carried you on my back when I was your horse, and pranced and tried to throw you?”

“And, Nanet, do you recollect when one day we played hide-and-seek, and you found me behind the rose-bushes, how we nearly died of laughing?”

“Little Nise! Little Nise! now we are going to love each other, as we played then, with all our might, with all our strength, and health, and gayety.”