King of the Castle (44 page)

today. I had made up my mind I would tell him about the child. He was in his room when I arrived and I went straight to him. He was sitting at the table reading the Bible when I went in. He looked up and then laid the red silk book-marker in the place and closed the book.

“Well, my child,” he said. I went to him and kissed him. He seemed to notice the change in me at once, for he looked startled and a little alarmed.

He asked me about Genevi eve, and if I had brought her. I told him I had not. Poor child, it is too much to expect her to pray for so long.

She grows restive and that agitates him more than ever. I assured him that she was a good child. He said that he thought that she had a tendency to waywardness. It must be watched. Perhaps it was because I am about to become a mother again that I felt rebellious. I did not want Genevi eve to go to her husband when her time came as I had gone to mine. I said rather sharply that I thought she was normal, as a child should be. One did not expect children to behave as the holy saints. He stood up and he looked terrible.

“Normal,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” And I answered: “Because it is natural for a child to be a little wayward, as you call it, now and then. Genevieve is. I shall not punish her for it.”

“To spare the rod is to spoil the child,” he replied.

“If she is wicked she should be beaten.” I was horrified.

“You are wrong. Papa,” I said.

“I do not agree with you.

Genevieve shall not be beaten. Nor shall any of my children. ” He looked at me in astonishment and I blurted out: ” Yes, Papa, I am going to have a child. This time a boy, I hope. I shall pray for a boy . and you must pray too. ” His mouth twitched. He said:

“You are to have a child….” I answered joyfully: “Yes, Papa. And I’m happy … happy … happy….”

“You are hysterical,” he said.

“I

feel hysterical. I feel I want to dance with joy. ” Then he gripped the table and seemed to slide down to the floor. I caught at him and

broke his fall. I could not understand what had happened to him. I knew that he was very ill. I called the Labisses and Maurice. They came and got him to bed. I was faint myself. They sent for my husband and then I learned that my father was very ill. I believed he was dying.”

“That was two days ago. He was asking for me. All day he asks for me.

He likes me to sit with him. The doctor thinks it is good for him that I should. I am still at Carrefour. My husband is here too. I have told him. I said to him: “It was when I told Papa that I was going to have a child that he became so ill. It was the shock, I believe.” And my husband comforted me. He said: “He had been ill for a long time.

This was a stroke and it could have happened at any time. “

“But,” I said, “he did not want me to have children. He thinks it is sinful.”

And my husband said I must not worry. It would be bad for the child.

And he is pleased. I know he is pleased for I believe above all things he wants a son. “

“I sat with Papa today. We were alone. He opened his eyes and saw me there. He said: ” Honorine . is that you, Honorine? ” And I said, ” No.

It is Francoise. ” But he kept saying ” Honorine” so I knew that he was mistaking me for my mother. I sat there by the bed thinking of the old days when she had been alive. I did not see her every day. Sometimes she was dressed in an afternoon gown with ribbons and laces and Madame Labisse brought her down to the drawing-room. She would sit in her chair and say little and I always thought what a strange mother she was. But she was very beautiful. Even as a child I knew that. She looked like a doll I once had; her face was smooth and pink and there were no wrinkles on it. She had a tiny waist yet she was plump and curved like pictures I had seen of beautiful women. I sat by his bed thinking of her and how one day I had come in and found her laughing, and laughing in such an odd way as though she couldn’t stop and Madame Labisse’s taking her off to her room where she seemed to stay for a long time. I knew

her room because I had been there once. I had climbed the stairs to be with her. And I found her there sitting on her chair with her feet in little velvet slippers on her foot stool. It was warm in the room and it was snowing outside I remember. There was a lamp very high on the wall and a guard round the fire such as I had in my nursery. And I noticed too the window, for there was only a small one and there were no curtains at it, but bars across. I went to her and sat at her feet and she said nothing to me but she liked having me there for she fondled my hair and ruffled it and pulled it, and made it very untidy and suddenly she started to laugh in that odd way I had heard. Madame Labisse came in and found me there and told me to go away at once. And she told Nounou, for I was scolded and told I was never to go up those stairs again. So I only saw Mamma when she came to the drawing room

But when he kept talking of Honorine I sat there remembering. He said suddenly: “I must go, Honorine. I must go. No, I cannot stay.” Then he was praying: “Oh God, I am a weak and sinful man. This woman tempted me and for her I became the sinner I am. And my punishment has come.

You are testing me, 0 Lord, and Thy miserable servant has betrayed Thee seventy times seven he has betrayed Thee. ” I said: ” Papa, it is-all right, this is not Honorine. It is I, Francoise, your daughter. And you are not sinful. You have been a good man. ” And he answered: ” Eh? What’s that? ” And I went on talking to him, trying to soothe him.”

“That night I understood a great deal about my father. As I lay in bed the picture became clear to me. He had yearned for sanctity; he had wanted to be a monk, but there was a sensual streak in him which fought with his piety. Being the man he was he would have suffered torture knowing of this streak, seeking to suppress it. Then he met my mother

and he desired her; he turned from the thought of a monastery and married instead. But even though he married he had sought to suppress his desire and when he failed he despised himself. My mother was beautiful; as a child I had realized that; and to him she was irresistible. I pictured him, pacing up and down, steeling himself to stay away from her. He thought physical love sinful but he had been unable to resist it. I could imagine those days and nights when he shut himself in his austere room, when he lay on his pallet, when he scourged himself. He would be awaiting vengeance, for he was a man who believed in vengeance. Every small fault of mine or the servants had to be punished. At morning prayers that was the theme of his daily sermon.

“Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.” Poor Papa! How unhappy he must have been. Poor Maman!

What sort of marriage had she had? Then I saw what he had done to me and mine and I wept for the tragedy of it. Then I said to myself: “But there is time yet. I am going to bear a child. So perhaps it is not too late.” And I wondered how I could help Papa. But I could see no way. “

“This morning Nounou came in to draw the blinds and she looked at me anxiously. She said I looked drawn. I had had a sleepless night. It was true. I had lain awake for hours thinking of Papa and what he had done to my life. Was it the tooth? she asked. She thinks of me still as a child and does not seem to believe that I could be concerned with important problems. I let her think it was the tooth for I knew it would be impossible to talk to her nor did I want to.

“You must have some laudanum tonight, my child,” she said. I answered: “Thank you, Nounou.”

“When I went over to Carrefour Maruice told me that Papa had been waiting for me. He kept watching the door and every time anyone went in he would say my name. They were all relieved that I had come. So I went in and sat by his bedside, although when I went in his eyes were closed and even when he opened them, after a while, he

did not take much notice of me. Then I noticed that he was mumbling to himself. He kept saying: “The Vengeance of the Lord …” over and over again. He was very anxious, I could see that. I bent over him and whispered:

“Papa, you have nothing to fear. You have done what you thought right.

What more can anyone do? “

“I am a sinner,” he said.

“I was tempted into sin. Twas not her fault. She was beautiful… she loved the pleasures of the flesh and she lured me to follow her. Even after I knew I could not resist her. That is the sin, child. That is the greatest sin of all.” I said: “Papa, you are distressing yourself. Lie still.”

“Is that Francoise?” he asked.

“Is that my daughter?” I answered that it was. He said: “And is there a child?”

“Yes, Papa.

Your little granddaughter, Genevieve. ” His face puckered and I was frightened. He began to whisper: ” I have seen the signs. The sins of the fathers . Oh my God, the sins of the fathers . ” I felt I had to comfort him. I said: ” Papa, I think I understand. You loved your wife. That was no sin. It is natural to love, natural for men and women to have children. That is the way the world goes on. ” He kept murmuring to himself and I wondered whether to call Maurice.

Occasionally a coherent sentence emerged.

“I knew it. There was the hysteria…. There was the time when we found her playing with fire. There was the time when we found her building a fire in the bedroom, laying the sticks across each other.. We were always finding sticks laid as though for a fire … in cupboards … under beds…. She would run out to gather sticks … Then the doctors came.”

“Papa,” ‘s I said, “do you mean that my mother was mad?” He did not answer, but went on as though I had not spoken: “I could have sent her away. I should have sent her away … ; but I could not do without her… and I still went to her… even though I knew. And in time there was fruit of her madness. That is my sin and there will be i

vengeance…. I watch for it… wait for it.” I was frightened, I forgot he was a sick man. I knew that what he was telling me was the truth as he saw it. I knew now why my mother had been kept in the room with the barred windows; I knew the reason for our strange household. My mother had been mad. It was for this reason that my father had not wanted me to marry.

“Francoise,” he mumbled.

“Francoise… my daughter.”

“I am here, Papa.”

“I watched over Francoise,” he said.

“She was a good child… quiet, shy, retiring.. not like her mother. Not brazen, bold … in love with the sins of the flesh. No, my daughter has escaped … But it is written ‘unto the third and fourth generation…” She was sought in marriage by the de la Talks . and I gave my consent. That was my sin of pride. I could not say to the Comte when he asked for my daughter for his son:

“Her mother is mad.” So I said my daughter should marry and then I scourged myself for my pride and my lust for I was guilty of two of the deadliest sins. But I did not stop the marriage and so my daughter went to the chateau. ” I tried to soothe him.

“All is well, Papa. There is nothing to fear. The past is done with. All is well now.”

“Unto the third and fourth generation …” he whispered.

“The sins of the fathers … I have seen it in the child. She is wild and she has the look of her grandmother. I know the signs. She will be like her grandmother… unable to resist the pleasures of the flesh and the evil seed will pass on and on through the generations to come.”

“You can’t mean Genevieve … my little girl.” He whispered: “The seed is there in Genevieve… I have seen it. It will grow and grow until it destroys her. I should have warned my daughter. She has escaped but her children will not!” I was frightened. I began to see so much more than I ever had before. I knew now why he had been overcome with horror when I told him I was to have another child. I sat by my bed numb with horror. “

“There is no one I can talk to. When I returned from

Carrefour I went into one of the flower gardens and sat alone for a long time thinking of it. Genevieve! My daughter! Incidents from the past rose in my mind. It was like watching a play in a series of scenes, all significant, leading to a climax. I remembered violent rages; her way of laughing immoderately and I heard her laughter mingling with echoes from the past. My mother. my daughter. They even looked alike . The more I tried to recall my mother’s face the more she looked like Genevi eve. I knew now that I should watch my daughter as my father had watched me. Every little misdemeanour of her childhood which I had once thought of as a prank took on a new significance. The evil seed had passed on through me to the coming generation. My father, who had wanted to be a monk, had been unable to suppress his passion for his wife even though he knew her to be mad, and as a result I had been born and I in my turn had borne a child.

Then the horror of my situation made me tremble with fear for not only was there my poor Genevieve. There was the unborn child. “

“I did not go to Carrefour yesterday. I could not. I made the excuse that my tooth was bad. Nounou fussed over me. She gave me a few drops of her laudanum and that sent me to sleep. I felt refreshed when I awoke but my anxieties were soon nagging at my mind. The child I longed for … what would it be like? What of my poor Genevieve? She came in this morning, as she always does first thing. I heard her with Nounou outside the door. Nounou said:

“Your mother is not well. She has a toothache and wants to rest.”

“But I always go in,” replied my daughter.

“Not today, my dear. Let your Maman rest.” But Genevieve flew into a rage. She stamped her feet and when Nounou tried to hold her off she bit poor Nounou’s hand. I lay there shivering. He is right. These sudden passions are more than childish temper. Nounou can’t control

them . nor can I. I called that she was to come in and she came, her eyes bright with angry tears, her lips sullen. She threw herself at me; she hugged me far too wildly, far too passionately.

“Nounou is trying to keep us apart. I won’t let her. I’ll kill her.” That was how she talked, wildly, extravagantly. She doesn’t mean it, I always said.

It is just her way. Just her way! Honorine’s way. My father had noticed the seed in her. I believed it was there. and I was seized with terror. “