1.

  Why Jurgen Did the Manly Thing

  It is a tale which they narrate in Poictesme, saying: In the 'olddays lived a pawnbroker named Jurgen; but what his wife called himwas very often much worse than that. She was a high-spirited woman,with no especial gift for silence. Her name, they say, was Adelais,but people by ordinary called her Dame Lisa.

  They tell, also, that in the old days, after putting up the shop-windowsfor the night, Jurgen was passing the Cistercian Abbey, on his way home:and one of the monks had tripped over a stone in the roadway. He wascursing the devil who had placed it there.

  "Fie, brother!" says Jurgen, "and have not the devils enough to bearas it is?"

  "I never held with Origen," replied the monk; "and besides, it hurtmy great-toe confoundedly."

  "None the less," observes Jurgen, "it does not behoove God-fearingpersons to speak with disrespect of the divinely appointed Prince ofDarkness. To your further confusion, consider this monarch'sindustry! day and night you may detect him toiling at the taskHeaven set him. That is a thing can be said of few communicants andof no monks. Think, too, of his fine artistry, as evidenced in allthe perilous and lovely snares of this world, which it is yourbusiness to combat, and mine to lend money upon. Why, but for him wewould both be vocationless! Then, too, consider his philanthropy!and deliberate how insufferable would be our case if you and I, andall our fellow parishioners, were to-day hobnobbing with otherbeasts in the Garden which we pretend to desiderate on Sundays! Toarise with swine and lie down with the hyena?--oh, intolerable!"

  Thus he ran on, devising reasons for not thinking too harshly of theDevil. Most of it was an abridgement of some verses Jurgen hadcomposed, in the shop when business was slack.

  "I consider that to be stuff and nonsense," was the monk's glose.

  "No doubt your notion is sensible," observed the pawnbroker: "butmine is the prettier."

  Then Jurgen passed the Cistercian Abbey, and was approachingBellegarde, when he met a black gentleman, who saluted him and said:

  "Thanks, Jurgen, for your good word."

  "Who are you, and why do you thank me?" asks Jurgen.

  "My name is no great matter. But you have a kind heart, Jurgen. Mayyour life be free from care!"

  "Save us from hurt and harm, friend, but I am already married."

  "Eh, sirs, and a fine clever poet like you!"

  "Yet it is a long while now since I was a practising poet."

  "Why, to be sure! You have the artistic temperament, which is notexactly suited to the restrictions of domestic life. Then I supposeyour wife has her own personal opinion about poetry, Jurgen."

  "Indeed, sir, her opinion would not bear repetition, for I am sureyou are unaccustomed to such language."

  "This is very sad. I am afraid your wife does not quite understandyou, Jurgen."

  "Sir," says Jurgen, astounded, "do you read people's inmostthoughts?"

  The black gentleman seemed much dejected. He pursed his lips, andfell to counting upon his fingers: as they moved his sharp nailsglittered like flame-points.

  "Now but this is a very deplorable thing," says the black gentleman,"to have befallen the first person I have found ready to speak akind word for evil. And in all these centuries, too! Dear me, thisis a most regrettable instance of mismanagement! No matter, Jurgen,the morning is brighter than the evening. How I will reward you, tobe sure!"

  So Jurgen thanked the simple old creature politely. And when Jurgenreached home his wife was nowhere to be seen. He looked on all sidesand questioned everyone, but to no avail. Dame Lisa had vanished inthe midst of getting supper ready--suddenly, completely andinexplicably, just as (in Jurgen's figure) a windstorm passes andleaves behind it a tranquillity which seems, by contrast, uncanny.Nothing could explain the mystery, short of magic: and Jurgen on asudden recollected the black gentleman's queer promise. Jurgencrossed himself.

  "How unjustly now," says Jurgen, "do some people get an ill name forgratitude! And now do I perceive how wise I am, always to speakpleasantly of everybody, in this world of tale-bearers."

  Then Jurgen prepared his own supper, went to bed, and slept soundly.

  "I have implicit confidence," says he, "in Lisa. I have particularconfidence in her ability to take care of herself in anysurroundings."

  That was all very well: but time passed, and presently it began tobe rumored that Dame Lisa walked on Morven. Her brother, who was agrocer and a member of the town-council, went thither to see aboutthis report. And sure enough, there was Jurgen's wife walking in thetwilight and muttering incessantly.

  "Fie, sister!" says the town-councillor, "this is very unseemlyconduct for a married woman, and a thing likely to be talked about."

  "Follow me!" replied Dame Lisa. And the town-councillor followed hera little way in the dusk, but when she came to Amneran Heath andstill went onward, he knew better than to follow.

  Next evening the elder sister of Dame Lisa went to Morven. Thissister had married a notary, and was a shrewd woman. In consequence,she took with her this evening a long wand of peeled willow-wood.And there was Jurgen's wife walking in the twilight and mutteringincessantly.

  "Fie, sister!" says the notary's wife, who was a shrewd woman, "anddo you not know that all this while Jurgen does his own sewing, andis once more making eyes at Countess Dorothy?"

  Dame Lisa shuddered; but she only said, "Follow me!"

  And the notary's wife followed her to Amneran Heath, and across theheath, to where a cave was. This was a place of abominable repute. Alean hound came to meet them there in the twilight, lolling histongue: but the notary's wife struck thrice with her wand, and thesilent beast left them. And Dame Lisa passed silently into the cave,and her sister turned and went home to her children, weeping.

  So the next evening Jurgen himself came to Morven, because all hiswife's family assured him this was the manly thing to do. Jurgenleft the shop in charge of Urien Villemarche, who was a highlyefficient clerk. Jurgen followed his wife across Amneran Heath untilthey reached the cave. Jurgen would willingly have been elsewhere.

  For the hound squatted upon his haunches, and seemed to grin atJurgen; and there were other creatures abroad, that flew low in thetwilight, keeping close to the ground like owls; but they werelarger than owls and were more discomforting. And, moreover, allthis was just after sunset upon Walburga's Eve, when almost anythingis rather more than likely to happen.

  So Jurgen said, a little peevishly: "Lisa, my dear, if you go intothe cave I will have to follow you, because it is the manly thing todo. And you know how easily I take cold."

  The voice of Dame Lisa, now, was thin and wailing, a curiouslychanged voice. "There is a cross about your neck. You must throwthat away."

  Jurgen was wearing such a cross, through motives of sentiment,because it had once belonged to his dead mother. But now, topleasure his wife, he removed the trinket, and hung it on a barberrybush; and with the reflection that this was likely to prove adeplorable business, he followed Dame Lisa into the cave.