VI

  THE HEART OF A WOMAN

  When at last Nicole had brought Barabant to his room, she was verytired. Goursac, whom she had summoned to help her, knelt by the bedto examine the unconscious form. Every now and then he turned aquestioning look upon the girl, as though to penetrate the indifferentattitude she maintained.

  "Why don't you say something?" Nicole cried at last, her anxietymastering her prudence. "Is it so serious?"

  "A mere scratch," he grumbled; "nothing to make such a fuss over. If hehadn't been as weak as a woman--"

  Nicole, reassured, smiled at his ill-humor, knowing the mood of old.Goursac, furious at such a reception of his sarcasm, turned on herangrily.

  "You are like all the rest--just as stupid. Because a young fellow getsa scratch and you pilot him home, you call that a romance. You knowwell enough what that leads to!"

  "That may be true; why shouldn't I have my romance as well as another?"

  "You say that to plague me. You know that is not so!" he saidimpatiently. "Now give me a bandage."

  Stooping, Nicole seized her petticoat; but finding it stained withtraces of the combat, she dropped it, and calling to him to wait,passed through the window and across the gutter, swaying lithelyagainst the roof. In a moment she returned with half of a sheet, whichthey quickly tore into bandages.

  "There; with a little rest--a chance to recover some blood--the feverwill abate!" Preparing a sling, Goursac jerked his head toward the bedand demanded: "You are not going to watch?"

  "Certainly I am!"

  "Then say at once," he cried point-blank, "that you imagine you are inlove!"

  "Goursac, my friend, you are ridiculous with your ideas," Nicoleanswered impatiently. "You know that the Citoyen Barabant arrived onlyyesterday. We are good comrades. That's all!"

  "Yes, yes, yes!"

  He wrinkled his lips in scornful unbelief, raised his shoulders to hisears, and disappeared, heavily, down the stairs, grumbling ironically,"A man lies to deceive others; a woman lies to deceive herself!"

  A moment later he called back:

  "He, above there!"

  Nicole went to the landing.

  "Is that you, the comrade?"

  "Yes, old cynic."

  "If you need me, stamp twice on the floor."

  "Agreed."

  "Return now to your--acquaintance."

  Nicole, laughing, returned to the bedside. She placed her hand onthe heated forehead, frowned, smoothed down the covers, arranged thediscarded clothes, and, after a moment's reflection, departed over theroof to her room.

  When she again appeared, she had removed all traces of the battle. Shepulled a chair near the bed, loosened her hair, scattering it over hershoulders, and began to comb it out, unraveling the tangle with manygrimaces and an oft-wrung "Aie! aie!"

  Occasionally she consulted a pocket-mirror, then resumed the combing,humming to herself. Barabant, his forehead enveloped in white, his armin a sling, lay with his head turned toward her, one arm escaping bareabove the covers. She regarded approvingly the lithe muscles suggestedunder the soft skin, and, ceasing her humming, pronounced:

  "He is well made!"

  She leaned over the bed and opened the collar of his shirt, revealingthe full throat.

  "Tiens, he's as white as a woman."

  She withdrew, and resumed her humming.

  "But, Dieu merci, it's not a woman." She was taking up another strandwhen the stairs cried out and Louison entered. Nicole frowned and saidcurtly:

  "Ah, it's you, is it? Who told you?"

  "La Mere Corniche. How goes it?" she asked, indicating Barabant.

  "Well."

  "Are you coming to eat something?"

  "No, I'm staying here."

  "Is it so serious?"

  "I don't know," she said, continuing her combing. "He pleases me."

  Louison stood at the bed, looking down. "Not bad; he's interesting. Inoticed he had good eyes."

  Nicole stopped her combing, and a frown gathered above the childishcheeks, as she cried impetuously:

  "Louison, no interference, do you hear? Or--"

  "Or what?" The dark eyebrows arched slightly, but the deep eyesremained cold. Nicole did not answer. Louison returned to thecontemplation of the young man a moment longer, then reluctantlyrousing herself from her reverie, turned on her heel. Her eye, fallingon Nicole, regarded her with a trace of amusement.

  "Child!" she said, standing in the doorway, her face relaxing into asmile. "You have chosen the best moment, my dear: you are adorable!"

  Nicole listened, immovable, until the last footstep had grown silent.Then drawing her lips together, she seized her knees with her hands,and thus curbed, her eyes fixed themselves in intense contemplation,while several times a sudden anger knit her features before she shookoff the disagreeable emotions and sought the cool of the window.

  At a rustling from the bed she returned quickly. Barabant had stirredslightly, but so as to throw his weight upon the wounded arm. Sheslipped her arm under him and moved him to a more comfortable position.This maternal solicitude, slight as it was, awakened a new emotionin her. She arranged his hair, and seeking hungrily for any furtherservice, began to bathe the hot eyelids.

  Barabant, under the gentle stroking, opened his eyes. The confinesappeared to him vast and silent, the window far removed and small. Thelong August twilight invaded the room with the delicious promise ofa quieter night, while from without the distant, scattered sounds ofrejoicing reached his ears, through the corridors of insensibility,like the tinkle of soft music. He sighed contentedly and closed hiseyes again.

  Presently he said, turning his head a trifle, but without opening hiseyes:

  "Thou art really there, Nicole?"

  The accent and the caress pierced to the depths the heart of the younggirl, already stirred by the maternal impulse of the woman.

  "Really here, yes."

  But almost immediately, as though regretting the softness of theresponse, she added, in remonstrance:

  "I have not given you permission to call me thou!"

  "It is my gratitude that--that permits me."

  "Ah, that is nice." She smiled with pleasure. "That was very prettilysaid."

  "Nicole?"

  "Yes."

  "Place your ear to my lips; I cannot talk so far."

  The girl, with a smile, divining the ruse, leaned over him. ButBarabant making no sound, she withdrew, scrutinizing anxiously the hotface.

  "Nicole."

  "I am here."

  Again she stooped, and this time so close that her hair swept hisforehead.

  "You are there?"

  "Yes."

  "I love you," he said drowsily.

  "Oh, oh!" Nicole started back, blushing and amused; but looking down,she saw he had dropped again into the wanderings of delirium.

  "He does not know what he says," she said, shaking her head. "Poorfellow!"

  She watched him in his helplessness, and all at once she sighed; but itwas a sigh that rose from the soul, and while it filled her heart, itpassed on and awakened in her a famine of tenderness, leaving a longingfor tears.

  * * * * *

  Motionless and perplexed, she stood staring down at the dim bed, herlips parted, her breast filling with deep breaths, until at lastshe turned reluctantly and sought the window, still uncertain, norcomprehending what was germinating within her.

  The night was beginning; in the clear heavens the high moon wasstrengthening in luster at every moment. Across the stretch of windowlights the sounds of revelry and rejoicing persisted faintly to herears. The courtyard, deserted by the men, was hushed with the silenceof fatigue. The laugh of a girl mounted at times, clear and playful,mingling with the deeper, good-humored protests of her companion. Froma window a hag, chin in hand, followed the lovers with due interest.In another room a weary mother had fallen asleep with her baby stillfeeding at her
breast. At other windows the women waited patientlythe return of the men, bending mechanically over their knitting orcrooning to the sleepy children. There, under the enduring, tediousnight, Nicole stayed from minute to minute, pressing her clenched handtensely against her lips; while within her breast beat tumult and arevolt against the slavery of women. She returned to the bedside,rebelling against this helpless man who drew her irresistibly from herindependence.

  "Nicole--"

  It was Goursac calling, and she sprang furiously to the landing,rebuking him with a low: "Silence! he is asleep. What do you want?"

  "If you are tired, I'll watch."

  "No, no!" she answered angrily. The cry seemed to burst from her heart,threatened by the very thought of such exile.

  She knelt at the bed hungrily, waiting jealously for an opportunityto ease the restless body, her revolt forgotten in the defense of herright to soothe and minister. She slipped her arm under his body, anddrew his head upon her shoulder. A sigh of contentment rewarded her.He grew more quiet, breathing gentle breaths that disturbed her hairand fanned her throat. In the half-darkness she remained, with achingshoulder, holding him in her arms as though to defend him from allwho would separate them. Several times, in an access of tenderness,she approached her lips to the unconscious forehead, but each timeinstinctively drew back from the surrender. She had a desire for tears,for laughter, for swift anger, that he should wake at last. She wouldhave kept him there forever, weak and helpless, turning to her in trustand necessity. At times, with a sudden alarm, she asked herself whathad happened, what could be these new emotions, until at last, in thedisturbance and bewilderment of her soul, she saw the utter lonelinessof her life, and the cry went up from her:

  "Ah, mon Dieu, how unhappy I am!"

  The full sun was beating into the room when Barabant awoke. Hisforehead was cold, his senses were sharp; but his memory struggledin vain to reconstruct the events of the afternoon. His arm confinedin a sling brought back his wound, and Nicole, and the beginning ofthe tedious journey; beyond that a black wall rose up and shut outall vision. He turned over, calculating his strength, when, his eyetraveling over the bedside, what was his stupefaction to behold Nicolestretched upon the floor. Her hands were pillowed under her cheek,where the long eyelashes showed sharply against the heightened color.She slept easily, the lips slightly parted as though smiling underhappy dreams. Barabant watched her breathlessly, jealously putting offthe awakening. But at this moment, as though aware of the intensityof his gaze, the girl opened her eyes, met the enraptured glance ofBarabant a moment only, then sprang to her feet with a confusion whichshe sought to cover with a laughing "Good morning!"

  "You have been here all night?" Barabant said, in astonishment.

  "Why not?" Nicole noticed that he did not address her as "thou." Sherearranged her dress and said with forced naturalness, "Do you thinkthat is much to do for a patriot who is wounded?"

  Barabant, displeased with the answer, made no reply.

  "So you have decided to return to this world, citoyen?"

  "Have I been delirious?"

  "Do you remember nothing?"

  "Nothing since--since the Place de la Greve." As this answer seemed toplunge Nicole into silence, he asked, "How did you get me here?"

  "It wasn't difficult," she began more gaily. "I begged your way fromblock to block. Let me see; two water-carriers brought you half-way,then a coachman a block on his route, then another block on a litter,and finally a fishwife helped me to the end."

  "You carried me?"

  "Indeed, I am not a weakling; look at that." She extended her arms,laughing. "They are solid."

  "And this?" Barabant touched the sling.

  "Oh, that was the Citoyen Goursac."

  "Who?"

  "Your neighbor below, a brown man who buries his chin like this, andscowls. That reminds me, it is time he should see you."

  "Nicole!"

  "Well, what?"

  "Not now; not just yet."

  "Why not?"

  "I wish to talk with you."

  "The idea, as though I had nothing to do!" She raised her foot andstamped twice. "I have a desire to dine to-night, thank you."

  "Where are you going?"

  "I'm going to work." She picked up her possessions and made for thewindow, while Barabant cried excitedly:

  "Nicole, I have not thanked you. Wait, let me thank you."

  "Why?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I'd do that for any one."

  Barabant raised himself on his elbow and threatened, half angrily:"Nicole, if you go, I'll follow you. I swear I'll follow you. I will.Look at me. I swear I will!"

  "What good will it do you? I'll be gone."

  She shook her head, and, deaf to his entreaties, disappeared; whileBarabant, furious, fell back, baffled and perplexed, little suspectingthe awakening that was taking place in Nicole.