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Title: Françoise Author: Leo Tolstoy Date: 1891 Language: en Topics: boats Source: Original text from http://www.revoltlib.com/?id=10489, 2021.
On May 3, 1882, 3-masted ship "Lady of Winds" sailed from port Le Havre
to Chinese seas. It’s unloaded in China, took the new cargo, delivered
it to Buenos Aires, and from there took goods to Brazil.
Crossings, damage repairs, a lull for several months, winds pushing ship
away from its way, sea adventures and tribulations detained it so that
it sailed for four years in foreign seas and only by May 8, 1886 arrived
to Marseille with a cargo of tin boxes with American canned goods.
When the ship exited Le Havre, it had a captain, his assistant and
fourteen sailors aboard. During the journey one sailor died, four got
missing in different adventures and only nine returned to France. To
replace the retired sailors on a ship, they hired two Americans, one
Swede and one Negro, who they found in the same tavern in Singapore.
The ship picked up the sails and tied criss-cross gear to the mast. The
tow steamship approached and, puffing, dragged it to the line. The sea
was quiet, the remaining waves barely moved near the shore. The ship
entered the line, where ships of all countries of the world stood along
the waterfront line, ships were large and small, all sizes, and shapes.
"The Lady of Winds" reared between the Italian Brig and the British,
which yielded room for the new comrade.
As soon as the captain finished with the customs and port officials, he
let half of the sailors go ashore overnight.
The night was warm, summer. Marseille was all lit, streets smelled of
food from kitchens, from all sides were heard chats, rumbling wheels and
cheerful shouts.
Sailors from the ship "The Lady of Winds" weren’t on land for four
months and now, stepping off on the shore, timidly, by two, walked
around the city, as foreign, unaccustomed to cities, people. They looked
around, smelled the streets next to the port, as if they were looking
for something. Four months they had not seen women and they were driven
by lust. Ahead of them was walking Celestin Duclos, a muscular and
bright guy. He always guided others when they went ashore. He had a
knack for finding good places, and was able to get rid of it when it was
necessary, and wasn’t getting in fights which often happened with
sailors when they went ashore; but when a fight started, he did not lag
behind from his comrades and was able to stand for himself.
Sailors wandered for a while along dark streets. The street were, like
drains, all sloped down to sea, and which stank with a heavy smell from
basements and storage rooms. Finally, Celestin picked one narrow
alleyway, with lights bulging over doors, and entered it. Sailors,
gabbing and humming, walked behind him. Huge numbers stood out on matte
painted glass lamps. Under low-ceiling doors, on straw stools, women sat
in aprons; they pop up at the sight of the sailors and, running to the
middle of the street, obstructed their way and seduced in each own
stash.
Sometimes from a deep entry way, a door accidentally opened. From it,
half- dressed girl appeared in coarse cotton tight pants, short skirt
and velvet black bib with gold-plated accessories. "Hey, handsome, come
in!" she called even from afar and sometimes ran out herself, clinging
to one of the sailors and tugged him with all her power to the door. She
grabbed him, like a spider when it drags a fly stronger than itself. The
guy, pliable from his lust, barely resisted, and the rest guys stood and
watched what was going to happen; but Celestin Duclos shouted: "not
here, don’t come in; further!" and the guy listened to the voice and
escaped from the girl by force. And sailors went further, accompanied by
the lashings of the disgruntled slut. Others jumped out to the noise all
along the alley, jumped on them, and with hoarse voices praised their
merchandises. That way they went farther and farther. Occasionally they
passed by walking toward them soldiers, knocking with their spurs, or a
lonely bourgeois, or a shop assistant, getting to their familiar place.
In other lanes the same lights shone, but the sailors went on and on,
stepping through the smelly goo, leaking from under the houses full of
women's bodies. And, finally, Duclos stopped at some house better than
others and took his guys in there.
Sailors sat in the great hall of the restaurant. Each of them chose a
girlfriend and didn’t not part with her all evening: such was the custom
in the tavern. Three tables were pushed together, and, first of all, the
sailors drank together with the sluts, then they got up and went
upstairs with them. Their twenty heavy boots banged long and loud on
wooden stairs, until they all squeezed through narrow doors and spread
across bedrooms. From bedrooms they went down again to drink, then
walked upstairs again.
It was in the middle of the party. All their bi-yearly salary went to
four-hour binge. By eleven o'clock they were already drunk and with
bloodshot eyes incoherently screamed something, they didn’t know what
themselves. Each had a girl sitting on his lap. Who sang, who screamed,
who pounded his fist against the table, who poured wine into his throat.
Celestin Duclos sat among his comrades. Riding on his knees, was a
large, thick, red-cheeked girl. He drank no less than others, but was
not yet completely drunk; some thoughts still wandered in his mind. He
softened up and was searching for what to speak about with his
girlfriend. But the thoughts was coming to him and immediately leaving
him, and he could not catch them, to remember and express.
He laughed and said:
- Well, well, well... And for how long are you here?
- Six months, - answered the girl.
He nodded, as if he approved her for that.
- Well, and are you happy here?
She thought.
- I got used to, - she said. - Have to, somehow. Still better, than in
servants or laundry.
He nodded his head, as if he approved of her.
- And you're not from around here?
She shook her head in a gesture that she wasn’t local.
- Distant?
She nodded.
- But from where?
She thought, as if she just recalled it.
- I see. . . I see. . . I see. . . And since when you're here?
- Six months, - answered the girl.
He nodded, as if approved it for that.
- Well, and are you OK here?
She thought.
- I got used to, - she said. - Need to, somehow. Still better than in
servants laundry.
He nodded his head, as if he approved of it.
- And you're not from around here?
She shook her head in a gesture that is not local.
- Distant?
She nodded.
- But from where?
She thought, as if she just recalled it.
- I’m from Perpignan, - she said.
- I see. . . I see. . . I see. . . - he said, and paused.
- And what are you, a sailor? - She now asked.
- Yes, we’re sailors.
- So, have you been far away?
- Not near. We’ve seen everything.
- Perhaps, even traveled around the world?
- Not once, almost twice circled.
She looked as if she was thinking, trying to recall something.
- You must’ve saw a lot of ships? - She asked.
- Of course.
- Have you seen "The Lady of Winds"? It’s a ship.
He was surprized that she name his ship, and decided to crack a joke.
- Why not, I saw it last week.
- Truly, really? - She asked and turned pale.
- Truly.
- Not lying?
- Swear to God, - he swore.
- And, have you met Celestine Duclos? - She asked.
- Celestine Duclos? - He repeated, and got surprised and even scared.
How could she know his name?
- What, do you know him? - He asked.
It was evident that she got scared of something.
- No, not me, but one woman from here knows him.
- What woman? From this house?
- No, nearby.
- Nearby where?
- Oh, not far.
- Who is she?
- Oh, she’s just a woman, just like I am.
- And why should she need him?
- How do I know? Maybe, she’s his compatriot.
They looked straight into the eyes of each other inquisitively and
exploratory. - I would like to see this woman, - he said.
- What for? Do you want to say something?
- To say...
- What to say?
- To say that I saw the Celestine Duclos.
-You did you see Celestine Duclos? And he is alive, healthy?
- Healthy. But why?
She paused, again gathered with her thoughts, and then quietly said:
- But where is the "The Lady of Winds"?
- Where? In Marseille.
- Truly?! - She screamed.
- Truly.
- And you do know Duclos?
- But said that I know him.
She pondered.
- Well, well. It's good, - she said quietly.
- But what do you need him for?
- If you see him, tell him... No, it is not necessary.
- But what?
- No, nothing.
He stared at her and started to worry more and more.
- But do you know him? - He asked.
- No, I don't.
-So why do you need him?
She did not reply, suddenly jumped up and ran to the desk behind, at
which the hostess sat; she took a lemon, cut it, pressed the juice into
a glass, then poured water in it, and gave it to Celestine.
- Here, have a drink, - she said, and sat on his laps, as before.
- What's this for? - He asked, taking the glass from her.
-To make you soberer. I’ll tell after. Drink.
He drank and wiped his lips with a sleeve.
- Well, tell now, I’m listening.
- But you do not tell him that you saw me, don’t say from whom you heard
what I’ll say?
- Oh well, I will not say.
- Swear!
He sworn.
- By God?
- By God.
- So you tell him that his father has died and his mother has died, and
his brother has died. There was a fever. In one month, all three have
died.
Duclos felt that all his blood stiffened at his heart. For a few
minutes, he sat silently, not knowing what to say, and then pronounced:
- And you surely know?
- Surely.
- Who told you?
She put her hands on his shoulders and looked straight in his eyes.
- Swear that you won’t tell.
- Well, I swear.
- I am a sister to him.
- François! - He cried out.
She looked at him intently and quietly-quietly moved her lips, almost
without issuing the words:
- So it's you, Celestin!
They didn’t move, got frozen as were, looking into the eyes of each
other.
And the rest people around them yelled in drunken voices. Tinkling
glasses, knocking with palms and heels, and shrill screeching of women
were mixed with the hubbub of songs.
- How did it happen? - Quietly, so quietly that even she barely-barely
understood his words, he said.
Suddenly her eyes got filled with tears.
- Just like that, have died. All three in one month, - she continued. -
What I was supposed to do? I have only one Left. To the pharmacy, and to
the doctor, then for the funeral of three... I sold all that we had,
paid everything off, and left in what was on me. Went into servants, to
master Cascio... Remember him, the lame one? I just turned fifteen, I
wasn’t even fourteen at the time when you left. I sinned with him.
Because we, sisters, are stupid. Then I went as a nanny to a notary, -
and he, too. At first, he took over the upkeep, I lived at the
apartment. But not for long. He threw me out, and I lived without food
for three days, no one takes me, and I came here, like the rest.
She was talking, and tears trickled down from her eyes, nose, cheeks,
and into her mouth.
- What have we done! - He said.
- I thought you also died, - she said through the tears. - It’s not
me, - she whispered.
- How did you not recognize me? - He whispered.
- I don't know, it’s not my fault, - she said and cried even more.
- How could I recognize you? Were you like that when I left? How did you
not recognize?
She gestured with despair.
- Oh! I see so many of these men, they all look the same to me.
His heart shrank so painfully and so hard that he wanted to shout and
roar, like a little boy when he gets slapped.
He stood up, moved her away from himself, grabbed her head with his big
sailor’s hands, and stared straight into her face.
Little by little, he recognized her, finally, that small, thin, and
joyful girl who he left home with those ones, whom she closed their
eyes.
- Yes, you are Francoise! Sister! - He said. And all of a sudden, heavy
sobs, sobs of a men similar to hiccup of a drunkard, came up to his
throat. He let go of her head, slapped on the table so that the glasses
overturned and flew into pieces, and cried with a wild voice.
His companions turned to him and stared at him.
- Look how he tanked-up, - said one.
- Enough yelling, - said another.
- Hey! Duclos! Why are you screaming? Let’s go back upstairs, - said the
third, with one hand jerking Celestine’s sleeve, and with the other hand
embracing his laughing, redden faced, with shiny black eyes, girlfriend
in a pink open silk bodice.
Duclos suddenly went silent and with bated breath, stared at his
comrades. Then with so strange and resolute expression, with which he
used to come into the fight, he, staggering, came to the sailor hugging
a girl, and hit his hand between him and the girl, separating them.
- Away! Do you not see it, she is you sister! They are all sisters to
someone. So is this, sister François. Ha-ha-ha-ha! - he sobbed, similar
to laughing, and he staggered, then raised his arms, and dropped on the
floor face down, and began to roll on the floor, thrashing it with his
hands and feet, wheezing, like dying.
- We must lay him to sleep, - said one of his comrades, - or they’ll
arrest him on the street.
And they lifted Celestine, and dragged him upstairs to Franco ise’s
room, and laid him on her bed.