Hugues-le-Loup. English

  THE SCAPEGOAT.

  Doesn't everybody at Tubingen know the lamentable history of the quarrelbetween the Seigneur Kaspar Evig and the young Jew Elias Hirsch? KasparEvig was courting Mademoiselle Eva Salomon, the daughter of the oldpicture-dealer in the Rue de Jericho. One day he found my friend EliasIn the broker's shop, and, on what pretext I know not, he boxed his earssoundly three or four times.

  Elias Hirsch, who had begun his medical studies only about five monthsbefore, was called upon by a council of the students to challenge theSeigneur Kaspar to fight, a step which he took with the greatestrepugnance, for it was quite to be expected that a seigneur should bea perfect swordsman.

  For all that Elias put himself well on the defensive, and, watching hisopportunity, inserted his finely-pointed sword so neatly between the ribsof the above-mentioned seigneur as considerably to affect his breathing,the consequence of which was that he was dead in ten minutes.

  The Rector Diemer, being informed of this transaction by crediblewitnesses, listened coldly and remarked briefly--

  "I understand you, gentlemen. He is dead, is he? Very well, then; buryhim."

  Elias was carried about in triumph, like another Mattathias; but, farfrom accepting the proffered glory, he drooped under a profoundmelancholy.

  He lost flesh, he sighed, he groaned; his nose, already a pretty longone, seemed to gain in prominence what it lost in solidity, and often inthe evening, as he was passing down the Rue des Trois Fontaines, he mightbe heard murmuring--

  "Kaspar Evig, forgive me; I did not mean to take your life. Oh, unhappyEva! what have you done? By your thoughtless flirting you made two bravemen quarrel, and now the shade of the Seigneur Kaspar pursues meeverywhere, even in my sleep. Oh, Eva! wretched Eva! why did you behaveso?"

  So poor Elias moaned in his misery; and he was the more to be pitiedbecause the sons of Israel are not bloodthirsty, and they know it iswritten in their law, "Whosoever sheddeth man's blood by man shall hisblood be shed."

  Now one fine day in July, while I was drinking at the Faucon, in walksElias Hirsch, just as miserable as ever, with hollow cheeks, hair hangingin disorder about his face, and downcast eyes. He laid his hand upon myshoulder, and said--

  "Dear Christian, will you do me a pleasure?"

  "Of course I will, Elias; only say what."

  "Let us go for a walk together in the country; I want to consult youabout my grief. You know many things human and divine; perhaps you canpoint me out a remedy for so much trouble of mind. I can trust in you,Christian, entirely."

  As I had already had five or six pints of beer and two or three glassesof schnapps, there was nothing more to detain me, and I consented to gowith him. Besides, I felt flattered with his confidence in my wisdom.

  So we came through the town, and in twenty minutes we were walking alongthe little violet-bordered path which winds up to the ancient ruins ofTriefels.

  Then, feeling alone, passing between hedges balmy with honeysuckle andmusical with the song of birds, and slowly climbing up to the lofty pineswhich crown the Rothalp, Elias breathed more freely; he raised his eyesand cried--

  "In all your theological studies, Christian, have you met with a way inwhich great crimes may be expiated? I know that you have studied thisquestion a good deal. Tell me. Whatever you recommend to put to flightthe avenging shade of Kaspar Evig, I will do it."

  Hirsch's question made me thoughtful. We walked together, with headsbowed down in thought, in deep silence. He watched me, I could see, outof the corner of his eye, whilst I was endeavouring to collect mythoughts upon this delicate question, but at last I made answer--

  "Now, if we were inhabitants of India, Elias, I should tell you to goand bathe in the Ganges, for the waters of that river wash away thepollutions of both body and soul--so, at least, the people of thatcountry think; and they kill, and burn, and steal without fear underthe protection of that marvellous river. It is a great comfort forscoundrels! It is a matter of great regret that we have no such river!If we were living in the days of Jason, I should prescribe to you thesalt-cakes of Queen Circe, which had the remarkable property of whiteningblackened consciences and saving people the trouble of repenting.Finally, if you had the happiness to belong to our holy religion,I would order you to have masses said, and to give up your goods to theChurch. But in your state as to locality, time, and belief, I know ofonly one way to relieve you."

  "What is it?" cried Hirsch, already kindling with hope.

  We had now reached the Rothalp, and were standing in a lonely placecalled the Holderloch. It is a deep dark gorge, encircled with gloomyfirs; a level rock crowns the abyss, whence fall the dark waters of theMarg with roaring deep and loud.

  Our path had brought us there. I sat down upon the mossy turf to breathethe moist air which rises from the gulf, and at that very moment I espiedbelow me a magnificent goat, reaching up to crop the wild cresses thatgrow on the edge of the cliff.

  Let it be remembered that the rocks of the Holderloch rise in the form ofsuccessive terraces, each terrace ten feet high perhaps, but not morethan a foot wide, and upon these little narrow ledges grow a thousandsweet-smelling plants--thyme and honeysuckle, ivy and convolvulus, andthe wild vine, perpetually bedewed with the spray from the fallingtorrent, and falling over in the loveliest clusters of bloom and foliage.

  Now my goat--an animal with a broad brow, garnished with heavy knottedcurling horns, with eyes gleaming like a pair of gold buttons, a reddishbeard, exhibiting a proud, defiant bearing under those festoons ofverdure, and a countenance as bold as that of a prowling satyr--my goatwas making a progress upwards towards the very highest of these narrowledges, and was enjoying a sweet repast of dainty herbs.

  "Elias!" I cried, "I feel an inspiration! Just as I was thinking of ascapegoat, there is one! I see it! Look!--behold! There he is! Is notyour course plain now? Lay your crime upon that goat, and then forget allabout it."

  Elias looked at me in stupid ignorance.

  "I should like to do that, Christian, but how am I to lay my remorse uponthat goat?"

  "Nothing can be plainer. What did the Romans do to get rid of theircriminals, polluted with every crime? Why they flung them off theTarpeian rock, to be sure. Well, having laid your imprecations upon thatgoat, fling him down the Holderloch, and there will be an end of it all."

  "But"--replied Elias.

  "I know your objections beforehand," I replied. "You are going to saythat you see no connection between Kaspar Evig, whose shade follows you,and that goat. But beware! be careful! Where was the connection betweenthe waters of the Ganges, Circe's salt-cakes, and the scapegoat with thecrimes to be expiated? None at all. Well, for all that, the expiationwas held to be good; therefore lay your curses and imprecations upon thatgoat, and throw him over! I order you to do that! I feel it my duty tosee this thing done. I can see a connection between that goat and yourfault, but I cannot explain it because the light of my vast informationdazzles me just now!"

  Elias did not move a step. I even thought I detected a smile upon hiscountenance, which irritated me.

  "How!" said I; "here am I pointing out to you an infallible method toget rid of the just punishment of your crime, and you doubt--youhesitate--you even smile!"

  "No," said he, "but I am not accustomed to walk on the edges ofprecipices, and I am afraid I should fall into the Holderloch alongwith the goat."

  "Ah, you are a coward! I can see it all. You have just once displayed alittle courage to get exemption for the rest of your days. Well, sir, ifyou refuse to carry out my advice, I will do it myself."

  And I rose.

  "Christian! Christian!" cried my friend, "don't trust yourself too far.Your foot is not steady--just now."

  "My foot not steady! Do you dare to insinuate that I am drunk becauseI have just had ten or a dozen glasses of beer and three glasses ofschnapps this morning? Away with you! Back! back, son of Belial!"

  And advancing a few feet above the goat, with my head raised and handsextended, I cried sole
mnly--

  "Azazel! goat destined for misery and expiation, I lay upon your hairyback the remorse of my friend Elias Hirsch, and I send you down to thespirits of darkness!"

  Then, passing round the ledge on which we stood, I descended to the nextbelow to catch the goat and throw him over.

  A sacred rage and fury seemed to possess me. I took no notice of theabyss. I stepped along the edge of the precipice like a cat.

  The goat, perceiving my approach, eyed me suspiciously, and stepped backa little way.

  "Ha!" I cried, "you may flee from me, but you shall not escape from me,accursed beast! I have got you!"

  "Oh, Christian, Christian!" Elias kept repeating in a heartrending voice,"do come back. You are risking your life!"

  "Silence, unbeliever!" I cried. "You are unworthy of the great sacrificewhich I am making for your happiness! But your friend Christian neverdraws back. Azazel must perish!"

  A little farther on the ledge narrowed and ended in a point.

  The goat, having a second time examined me with a curious eye, drew backa little farther, but not without some hesitation.

  "Aha!" I exclaimed, "you are beginning to understand what is going tohappen. Yes, let me get you into that corner, and your doom is sealed!"

  And undoubtedly, when he had got to the spot where the ledge came toan end, Azazel seemed puzzled to know what to do next. I edged up tohim closer and closer, full of a noble excitement, and laughing inanticipation at the coming descent and the splash in the torrent below.

  I now beheld him at four paces from me, and I was grasping tightly a rootof holly that was growing out of a rock to launch out a kick at thedevoted beast.

  "Look, Elias, see the accursed!" I cried.

  When, all in a moment, I felt in my stomach a most awful blow, a buttwhich would have sent _me_ into the Holderloch had I not kept hold ofthat blessed root of holly. The fact was that that miserable goat, seeinghimself driven into a corner, had himself commenced the attack.

  Oh, what was my astonishment! Before I knew where I was or what hadhappened, there was the brute standing up again on his hind-legs, and hishorns digging into my stomach and my sides with a hollow sound.

  What a position to be in! It is impossible to be more astounded than Iwas at that moment! It was the world upside down. It was a bad dream--anightmare! The precipice with all its jagged peaks seemed to dance aroundme, and so did the trees and sky above. At the same moment I heardpiercing cries from Elias of "Help! help!" while Azazel's horns wereploughing up my sides.

  Then I lost all presence of mind. The goat with his long beard and hishard, sharp horns pounding me, now in my chest, now in my stomach, andthen in my shaking limbs, produced a most diabolical effect upon me. Myhold on the root slowly relaxed, and I let go. But happily something keptme from falling, something which I could not understand at first. But itwas the shepherd Yeri, of the Holderloch, who from the next platformabove had caught me by the coat-collar with his crook.

  Thanks to his assistance, instead of falling down into the chasm I layfull length along the ledge, and that awful goat walked over my body toget away about his business.

  "Come, take firm hold of my crook," cried the shepherd to Elias; "now Iwill go down for him. Don't let go!"

  "You may rely upon me," answered Elias.

  I heard all that as if it were a nightmare. I had almost lostconsciousness.

  When I opened my eyes I saw standing before me that gigantic shepherd,with his grey eyes sunk underneath his bushy eyebrows, his yellow beard,a sheepskin thrown over his shoulders, and I thought I had awoke in theage of Oedipus, which made me wonder a good deal.

  "Well," cried the shepherd, in a harsh guttural, "this will teach you notto curse my goat any more!"

  Then I saw Azazel rubbing himself comfortably against his master'scolossal legs, and looking slily, and I thought ironically, at me; andthen I saw Elias standing behind me, and making the greatest effortsnot to laugh.

  My scattered senses were beginning to return. I sat myself down with painand difficulty, for Azazel had bruised me all over, and I felt fearfullystiff and sore.

  "Was it you who saved me?" I asked the shepherd.

  "Yes, my boy, it was."

  "Well, you are a good fellow, and I am much obliged to you. I withdrawthe curse I laid upon your goat. Here, take this."

  I handed him my purse with sixteen florins in it.

  "Thank you, sir," said he, "and now you can begin again if you like oneven ground. Down there it was not fair; the goat had all the advantage."

  "Thank you very much! But I have had quite enough. Shake hands, oldfellow; I'll never forget you. Let us go now."

  My comrade and I, arm-in-arm, then descended the hill.

  The shepherd, leaning on his crook, watched us till we disappeared. Thegoat had resumed his walk and his supper on the very edge of the crags.The sky was lovely, the air balmy with a thousand sweet mountain perfumescarried on it with the distant sounds of the shepherd's horn and thebooming of the torrent.

  We returned to Tubingen with our hearts full.

  Since that time my friend Elias has found some comfort for slaying theSeigneur Kaspar, but in an original fashion.

  Scarcely had he taken his doctor's degree when he married MademoiselleEva Salomon, with the hope of having a numerous family to make up for theloss of that individual who had met with an untimely end at his hand.

  Four years ago I was at his wedding as best man, and already there aretwo fat babies making the pretty little house in Crispin street torejoice.

  This was a promising commencement!

  Don't let me be misunderstood. I don't pretend to say that the methodI prescribed for making expiation for taking away a life is better thanthat taught in our holy religion, which, according to the CatholicChurch, consists in masses and in giving away your goods to the Church.But I do think it better than the Hindoo practice, and I think the theoryof the famous scapegoat is not to be compared with that which is taughtus by pure religion.