Chapter 20

TOM'S INTERVIEW WITH MRS. VIDOUX.

Five minutes' walk from the "Prenoms," there might once be seen a small, badly built, one-storeyed cottage, the walls of which were built of stone, with clay serving instead of mortar. In the walls, were three small windows, opening like French windows. They were of different sizes, contained numerous small rectangular panes of glass, and were situated irregularly; two in front of, and one behind the house.

Inside, the walls were white-washed, the floor was of clay, the ceiling was black with smoke. One of the two rooms served as a bedroom, while the other one was badly fitted up to resemble a kitchen.

A wretchedly thatched roof, surmounted by a single stone chimney, covered the whole.

Situated behind this hovel, was a small piece of land called a garden. In it grew cabbages, potatoes, fruits and weeds; the latter predominating.

In this cottage, there lived an old woman, whose age none seemed to know. The fact that she never attended divine service, coupled with the tales of her being in the habit of attending the witches' sabbath, was enough to make her pass amongst her superstitious neighbours as a being possessed of supernatural powers.

She was aware of this, and consequently avoided, as far as it was practicable, having anything to do with her species.

At first she had felt very angry at her countrymen's insinuations, and almost wished she did possess supernatural powers; but gradually she had cooled down, and now she was indifferent.

Mrs. Vidoux--such was the appellation of this woman--was not attractive. Her face was of a colour much resembling Vandyke Brown. It was a woman's face, yet it resembled a man's, not excepting the whiskers, which seemed to grow vigourously, as it fertilized by the dirt which her uncleanly habits allowed to accumulate on her face.

She had but two companions; they were cats. She very often ate limpets (_Patella Vulgata_). When she descended to the beach to collect the shell fish she took exactly one hundred.

A proof that she could reckon up to one hundred.

Arrived home, she cooked her limpets, gave twenty to each of her cats, and reserved sixty for herself.

A proof that she had gastronomic tendencies.

There was but one young man to whom she spoke freely.

One evening, this man tumbled near her doorstep. He was intoxicated. She took him inside, laid him on her own bed, and when he had slept and sobered, she gave him a cup of tea and escorted him to his home. Ever since, they had been friends.

This man's name was Tom Soher.

We have seen that an idea had struck him which he intended to carry out. He, too, believed in Mrs. Vidoux's power of bewitching.

So the day following his unpleasant discovery, Tom Soher directed his steps towards the old woman's cottage.

He knocked at the door. No one answered. "She must be in the garden," he said to himself. He accordingly went round the back of the house and espied her, laboriously occupied in trying to dig a few parsnips.

"Good morning, Mrs. Vidoux," he said; then perceiving her useless efforts, he took the spade from her bony hands, and dug up a few of the esculent roots.

"Thank you very much," said the old woman, leaning heavily on her walking-stick.

"I wonder, why she, who possesses such magic powers, does not make those parsnips fly out of the ground without even touching them," thought Tom.

Then a conversation followed between them.

"It's fine weather," said Tom, feeling embarrassed about the introduction of his subject.

"Beautiful."

"You have a great deal of trouble to work as you do, cultivating your own vegetables?"

"Yes, but I cannot afford to buy some."

"Don't you feel lonely at times?"

"No, I am accustomed to solitude."

"You did me a good turn once."

"I am glad of it."

"Yes, I shall always remember it."

"I am happy to see that you don't forget, you are the only sensible man in this parish."

"That's praising me rather too much, I'm sure I don't deserve it, but what I think I deserve less is the nasty fix in which I now am."

"You are in a fix?"

"You know my cousin, Adele Rougeant?"

"Miss Rougeant, let me see--oh--yes, I knew her once, but I am afraid I should not recognise her now, she must be a fine lady by this time."

"Fine; she's simply charming."

"I should think so; I don't doubt you at all, Mr. Soher."

"There is a young man who is paying his attentions to her."

"He is very fortunate."

"That does not suit me. I intended to marry her."

"You! her cousin."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, only it seemed improbable."

"This fellow stands in my way."

"Of course, you shall have to try and supplant him."

"That's impossible, she's too fond of him."

"Well, I suppose you must give her up then."

"I don't mean to."

"What do you intend doing?"

"Can't you guess? Thrust him out of my way forcibly. Either he or I must sink."

"You look strong enough to fight a giant."

"I do not mean to fight him."

"Are you afraid of him? Is he stronger than you?"

"He looks rather too much of an athlete for me; I thought that perhaps you would help me."

"I! help you."

"Yes."

"How?"

Tom looked anxiously round, then said in a low tone: "I must get rid of him, I must."

"Yes."

"And you can help me a great deal."

"I will do anything for you."

"Well, will you settle him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Make him jump, of course."

"Make him jump!"

"Yes; you know, bewitch him."

Mrs. Vidoux suddenly became erect, her eyes were fixed on Tom with an expression that made him recoil, but before he had time to get out of her way, she had raised her walking-stick high above her head with both her hands and brought it to bear with all her strength on Tom's head.

The blow was by no means a slight one. Tom staggered and fell. Without even pretending to notice him the old woman walked towards her dwelling. He soon rallied, and in less time than it had probably ever been done before, he cleared the fence and vaulted in the road. He went home, swearing that he would avenge himself, not of Mrs. Vidoux, but of his cousin.

Next morning, he decided to tell his uncle all that he knew. He had not dared to do it before for fear of offending his cousin; but now, he acted in a blind fury.

He had a great deal of confidence in his uncle. He knew the enormous influence which he exercised over his daughter. Mr. Rougeant had once told him that with a single look he could make her tremble, and that she would as soon think of refusing him as of refusing to grow older.

Tom Soher smiled when he thought of his uncle's demeanour upon hearing the news which he had to impart.

How he was to incite him. He must make his wrath rise to the highest pitch. If he could go at "Les Marches" when his cousin was gone and set his uncle to watch for their return, what a scene, what a spectacle to laugh at; even as he thought of it now he could not help laughing.