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Updated: June 1, 2025
Something in the cure's tones brought a thrill to Genestas' heart, and the two insignificant words uttered by this stranger priest plunged him into musings that were almost devout. "Gentlemen," said Jacquotte, who came into the middle of the room, and there took her stand, with her hands on her hips, "the soup is on the table."
The minor characters and episodes, with the exception of the wonderful story or legend of Napoleon by Private Goguelat, and the private himself, are neither of the first interest, nor always carefully worked out: La Fosseuse, for instance, is a very tantalizingly unfinished study, of which it is nearly certain that Balzac must at some time or other have meant to make much more than he has made; Genestas, excellent as far as he goes, is not much more than a type; and there is nobody else in the foreground at all except the Doctor himself.
One was constrained to admit, at the sight of her, that the good upon earth have something in common with the angels in heaven; Commandant Genestas shook his head as he looked at her. "Is M. Benassis a clever doctor?" he asked at last. "I do not know, sir, but he cures poor people for nothing." "It seems to me that this is a man and no mistake!" he went on, speaking to himself.
She waited till Genestas was in the saddle, and then whispered in Benassis' ear, "Tell me who that gentleman is?" "Aha!" said the doctor, putting a foot in the stirrup, "a husband for you, perhaps."
The lid of the soup-tureen drew a momentary glance from Genestas; he noticed that it was surmounted by a group of vegetables in high relief, skilfully colored after the manner of Bernard Palissy, the celebrated sixteenth century craftsman. There was no lack of character about the group of men thus assembled.
To this wailing lament succeeded moans from within the house; the sound of a woman's voice came through the casements. "I dare not intrude upon such grief as this," said Genestas to Benassis. "I always go to visit a bereaved family," the doctor answered, "either to certify the death, or to see that no mischance caused by grief has befallen the living. You need not hesitate to come with me.
The next morning, when the fumes of champagne had passed off, he took it up and began to read. "My dear father " "Oh! you young rogue," was his comment, "you know how to coax whenever you want something." "Our dear M. Benassis is dead " The letter dropped from Genestas' hands; it was some time before he could read any more. "Every one is in consternation.
"If there has been so much fighting about religion," said Genestas, "God must have built up the system very perfunctorily. Should not a divine institution impress men at once by the truth that is in it?" All the guests looked at the cure. "Gentlemen," said M. Janvier, "religion is something that is felt and that cannot be defined.
"I promised yesterday," Benassis said to Genestas, "to show you one of the two soldiers who left the army and came back to us after the fall of Napoleon. We shall find him somewhere hereabouts, if I am not mistaken. The mountain streams flow into a sort of natural reservoir or tarn up here; the earth they bring down has silted it up, and he is engaged in clearing it out.
Genestas half seated himself upon the edge of the table, and remained silent. The firelight shone more brightly in the room than the faint rays of the sun, for the mountain crests intercepted them, so that they seldom reached this corner of the valley.
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