Эмиль Золя
The Fête At Coqueville. 1907
“Must put them to bed!” cried a voice.
But just then Delphin opened his eyes. He rolled looks of rapture over the people. They questioned him on all sides with an eagerness that dazed him somewhat, the more easily since he was still as drunk as a thrush.
“Well! What?” he stuttered; “it was a little cask – There is no fish. Therefore, we have caught a little cask.”
He did not get beyond that. To every sentence he added simply: “It was very good!”
“But what was it in the cask?” they asked him hotly.
“Ah! I don’t know – it was very good.”
By this time Coqueville was burning to know. Every one lowered their noses to the boat, sniffing vigorously. With one opinion, it smelt of liquor; only no one could guess what liquor. The Emperor, who flattered himself that he had drunk of everything that a man can drink, said that he would see. He solemnly took in the palm of his hand a little of the liquor that was swimming in the bottom of the bark. The crowd became all at once silent. They waited. But the Emperor, after sucking up a mouthful, shook his head as if still badly informed. He sucked twice, more and more embarrassed, with an air of uneasiness and surprise. And he was bound to confess:
“I do not know – It’s strange – If there was no salt water in it, I would know, no doubt – My word of honor, it is very strange!”
They looked at him. They stood struck with awe before that which the Emperor himself did not venture to pronounce. Coqueville contemplated with respect the little empty cask.
“It was very good!” once more said Delphin, who seemed to be making game of the people. Then, indicating the sea with a comprehensive sweep, he added: “If you want some, there is more there – I saw them – little casks – little casks – little casks – ”
And he rocked himself with the refrain which he kept singing, gazing tenderly at Margot. He had just caught sight of her. Furious, she made a motion as if to slap him; but he did not even close his eyes; he awaited the slap with an air of tenderness.
The Abbé Radiguet, puzzled by that unknown tipple, he, too, dipped his finger in the bark and sucked it. Like the Emperor, he shook his head: no, he was not familiar with that, it was very extraordinary. They agreed on but one point: the cask must have been wreckage from the ship in distress, signaled Sunday evening. The English ships often carried to Grandport such cargoes of liquor and fine wines.
Little by little the day faded and the people were withdrawn into shadow. But La Queue remained absorbed, tormented by an idea which he no longer expressed. He stopped, he listened a last time to Delphin, whom they were carrying along, and who was repeating in his sing-song voice: “Little casks – little casks – little casks – if you want some, there are more!”
III
That night the weather changed completely. When Coqueville awoke the following day an unclouded sun was shining; the sea spread out without a wrinkle, like a great piece of green satin. And it was warm, one of those pale glows of autumn.
First of the village, La Queue had risen, still clouded from the dreams of the night. He kept looking for a long time toward the sea, to the right, to the left. At last, with a sour look, he said that he must in any event satisfy M. Mouchel. And he went away at once with Tupain and Brisemotte, threatening Margot to touch up her sides if she did not walk straight. As the “Zéphir” left the harbor, and as he saw the “Baleine” swinging heavily at her anchor, he cheered up a little saying: “To-day, I guess, not a bit of it! Blow out the candle, Jeanetton! those gentlemen have gone to bed!”
And as soon as the “Zéphir” had reached the open sea, La Queue cast his nets. After that he went to visit his “jambins.” The jambins are a kind of elongated eel-pot in which they catch more, especially lobsters and red garnet. But in spite of the calm sea, he did well to visit his jambins one by one. All were empty; at the bottom of the last one, as if in mockery, he found a little mackerel, which he threw back angrily into the sea. It was fate; there were weeks like that when the fish flouted Coqueville, and always at a time when M. Mouchel had expressed a particular desire for them. When La Queue drew in his nets, an hour later, he found nothing but a bunch of seaweed. Straightway he swore, his fists clenched, raging so much the more for the vast serenity of the ocean, lazy and sleeping like a sheet of burnished silver under the blue sky. The “Zéphir,” without a waver, glided along in gentle ease. La Queue decided to go in again, after having cast his nets once more. In the afternoon he came to see them, and he menaced God and the saints, cursing in abominable words. In the meanwhile, Rouget, Fouasse, and Del-phin kept on sleeping. They did not succeed in standing up until the dinner hour. They recollected nothing, they were conscious only of having been treated to something extraordinary, something which they did not understand. In the afternoon, as they were all three down at the harbor, the Emperor tried to question them concerning the liquor, now that they had recovered their senses. It was like, perhaps, eau-de-vie with liquorice-juice in it; or rather one might say rum, sugared and burned. They said “Yes”; they said “No.” From their replies, the Emperor suspected that it was ratafia; but he would not have sworn to it. That day Rouget and his men had too many pains in their sides to go a-fishing. Moreover, they knew that La Queue had gone out without success that morning, and they talked of waiting until the next day before visiting their jambins. All three of them, seated on blocks of stone, watched the tide come in, their backs rounded, their mouths clammy, half-asleep.
But suddenly Delphin woke up; he jumped on to the stone, his eyes on the distance, crying: “Look, Boss, off there!”
“What?” asked Rouget, who stretched his limbs.
“A cask.”
Rouget and Fouasse were at once on their feet, their eyes gleaming, sweeping the horizon.
“Where is it, lad? Where is the cask?” repeated the boss, greatly moved.
“Off there – to the left – that black spot.”
The others saw nothing. Then Rouget swore an oath. “Nom de Dieu!”
He had just spotted the cask, big as a lentil on the white water in a slanting ray of the setting sun. And he ran to the “Baleine,” followed by Delphin and Fouasse, who darted forward tapping their backs with their heels and making the pebbles roll.
The “Baleine” was just putting out from the harbor when the news that they saw a cask out at sea was circulated in Coqueville. The children, the women, began to run. They shouted: “A cask! a cask!”
“Do you see it? The current is driving it toward Grandport.”
“Ah, yes! on the left – a cask! Come, quick!”
And Coqueville came; tumbled down from its rock; the children arrived head over heels, while the women picked up their skirts with both hands to descend quickly. Soon the entire village was on the beach as on the night before.
Margot showed herself for an instant, then she ran back at full speed to the house, where she wished to forestall her father, who was discussing an official process with the Emperor. At last La Queue appeared. He was livid; he said to the garde champêtre: “Hold your peace! It’s Rouget who has sent you here to beguile me. Well, then, he shall not get it. You’ll see!”
When he saw the “Baleine,” three hundred metres out, making with all her oars toward the black dot, rocking in the distance, his fury redoubled. And he shoved Tupain and Brisemotte into the “Zéphir,” and he pulled out in turn, repeating: “No, they shall not have it; I’ll die sooner!”
Then Coqueville had a fine spectacle; a mad race between the “Zéphir” and the “Baleine.” When the latter saw the first leave the harbor, she understood the danger, and shot off with all her speed. She may have been four hundred metres ahead; but the chances remained even, for the “Zéphir” was otherwise light and swift; so excitement was at its height on the beach. The Mahès and the Floches had instinctively formed into two groups, following eagerly the vicissitudes of the struggle, each upholding its own boat. At first the “Baleine” kept her advantage, but as soon as the “Zéphir” spread herself, they saw that she was gaining little by little. The “Baleine” made a supreme effort and succeeded for a few minutes in holding her distance. Then the “Zéphir” once more gained upon the “Baleine,” came up with her at extraordinary speed. From that moment on, it was evident that the two barks would meet in the neighborhood of the cask. Victory hung on a circumstance, on the slightest mishap.
“The ‘Baleine’! The ‘baleine’!” cried the Mahés.
But they soon ceased shouting. When the “Baleine” was almost touching the cask, the “Zephir,” by a bold maneuvre, managed to pass in front of her and throw the cask to the left, where La Queue harpooned it with a thrust of the boat-hook.
“The ‘Zéphir’! the ‘Zéphir!” screamed the Floches.
And the Emperor, having spoken of foul play, big words were exchanged. Margot clapped her hands. The Abbé Radiguet came down with his breviary, made a profound remark which abruptly calmed the people, and then threw them into consternation.
“They will, perhaps, drink it all, these, too,” he murmured with a melancholy air.
At sea, between the “Baleine” and the “Zéphir,” a violent quarrel broke out. Rouget called La Queue a thief, while the latter called Rouget a good-for-nothing. The men even took up their oars to beat each other down, and the adventure lacked little of turning into a naval combat. More than this, they engaged to meet on land, showing their fists and threatening to disembowel each other as soon as they found each other again.
“The rascal!” grumbled Rouget. “You know, that cask is bigger than the one of yesterday. It’s yellow, this one – it ought to be great.” Then in accents of despair: “Let’s go and see the jambins; there may very possibly be lobsters in them.”
And the “Baleine” went on heavily to the left, steering toward the point.
In the “Zëphir,” La Queue had to get in a passion in order to hold Tupain and Brisemotte from the cask. The boat-hook, in smashing a hoop, had made a leaking for the red liquid, which the two men tasted from the ends of their fingers and which they found exquisite. One might easily drink a glass without its producing much effect. But La Queue would not have it. He caulked the cask and declared that the first who sucked it should have a talk with him. On land, they would see.
“Then,” asked Tupain, sullenly, “are we going to draw out the jambins?”
“Yes, right away; there is no hurry!” replied La Queue.
He also gazed lovingly at the barrel. He felt his limbs melt with longing to go in at once and taste it. The fish bored him.
“Bah!” said he at the end of a silence. “Let’s go back, for it’s late. We will return to-morrow.” And he was relaxing his fishing when he noticed another cask at his right, this one very small, and which stood on end, turning on itself like a top. That was the last straw for the nets and the jambins. No one even spoke of them any longer. The “Zéphir” gave chase to the little barrel, which was caught very easily.
