Margot's Tapers

"Margot's Tapers" is a novella by the renowned French author Guy de Maupassant. The story revolves around Margot, a captivating young woman whose life takes a turn due to her passionate love affairs and the societal expectations placed upon her. Set against the backdrop of 19th-century France, Maupassant delves into themes of desire, social constraints, and the complexities of human relationships. The narrative explores Margot's inner struggles and the consequences of her choices, ultimately revealing the bittersweet nature of love and longing. Through sharp wit and keen observation, Maupassant crafts a poignant tale that reflects the intricacies of the human experience.

• Short story

								
I

Margot Fresquyl had allowed herself to be tempted for the first time by
the delicious intoxication of the mortal sin of loving, on the evening
of Midsummer Day.

While most of the young people were holding each others' hands and
dancing in a circle round the burning logs, the girl had slyly taken the
deserted road which led to the wood, leaning on the arm of her partner,
a tall, vigorous farm servant, whose Christian name was Tiennou, which,
by the way, was the only name he had borne from his birth. For he was
entered on the register of births with this curt note: Father and
mother unknown; he having been found on St. Stephen's Day under a shed
on a farm, where some poor, despairing wretch had abandoned him, perhaps
even without turning her head round to look at him.

For months Tiennou had madly worshiped that fair, pretty girl, who was
now trembling as he clasped her in his arms, under the sweet coolness of
the leaves. He religiously rememberd how she had dazzled him--like some
ecstastic vision, the recollection of which always remains imprinted on
the eyes--the first time that he saw her in her father's mill, where he
had gone to ask for work. She stood out all rosy from the warmth of the
day, amidst the impalpable clouds of flour, which diffused an indistinct
whiteness through the air. With her hair hanging about her in untidy
curls, as if she had just awakened from a profound sleep, she stretched
herself lazily, with her bare arms clasped behind her head, and yawned
so as to show her white teeth, which glistened like those of a young
wolf, and her maiden nudity appeared beneath her unbuttoned bodice with
innocent immodesty. He told her that he thought her adorable, so
stupidly, that she made fun of him and scourged him with her cruel
laughter; and, from that day he spent his life in Margot's shadow. He
might have been taken for one of those wild beasts ardent with desire,
which ceaselessly utter maddened cries to the stars on nights when the
constellations bathe the dark coverts in warm light. Margot met him
wherever she went, and seized with pity, and by degrees agitated by his
sobs, by his dumb entreaties, by the burning looks which flashed from
his large eyes, she had returned his love; she had dreamt restlessly
that during a whole night she had been in his vigorous arms which
pressed her like corn that is being crushed in the mill, that she was
obeying a man who had subdued her, and learning strange things which the
other girls talked about in a low voice when they were drawing water at
the well.

She had, however, been obliged to wait until Midsummer Day, for the
miller watched over his heiress very carefully.

The two lovers told each other all this as they were going along the
dark road, and innocently giving utterance to words of happiness, which
rise to the lips like the forgotten refrain of a song. At times they
were silent, not knowing what more to say, and not daring to embrace
each other any more. The night was soft and warm, the warmth of a
half-closed alcove in a bedroom, and which had the effect of a tumbler
of new wine.

The leaves were sleeping motionless and in supreme peace, and in the
distance they could hear the monotonous sound of the brooks as they
flowed over the stones. Amidst the dull noise of the insects, the
nightingales were answering each other from tree to tree, and everything
seemed alive with hidden life, and the sky was bright with such a shower
of falling stars, that they might have been taken for white forms
wandering among the dark trunks of the trees.

"Why have we come?" Margot asked, in a panting voice. "Do you not want
me any more, Tiennou?"

"Alas! I dare not," he replied. "Listen: you know that I was picked up
on the high road, that I have nothing in the world except my two arms,
and that Miller Fresquyl will never let his daughter marry a poor devil
like me."

She interrupted him with a painful gesture, and putting her lips to his,
she said:

"What does that matter? I love you, and I want you ... Take me ..."

And it was thus, on St. John's night, Margot Fresquyl for the first time
yielded to the mortal sin of love.

II

Did the miller guess his daughter's secret, when he heard her singing
merrily from dawn till dusk, and saw her sitting dreaming at her window
instead of sewing as she was in the habit of doing?

Did he see it when she threw ardent kisses from the tips of her fingers
to her lover at a distance?

However that might have been, he shut poor Margot in the mill as if it
had been a prison. No more love or pleasure, no more meetings at night
at the verge of the wood. When she chatted with the passers-by, when she
tried furtively to open the gate of the enclosure and to make her
escape, her father beat her as if she had been some disobedient animal,
until she fell on her knees on the floor with clasped hands, scarcely
able to move and her whole body covered with purple bruises.

She pretended to obey him, but she revolted in her whole being, and the
string of bitter insults which he heaped upon her rang in her head. With
clenched hands, and a gesture of terrible hatred, she cursed him for
standing in the way of her love, and at night, she rolled about on her
bed, bit the sheets, moaned, stretched herself out for imaginary
embraces, maddened by the sensual heat with which her body was still
palpitating. She called out Tiennou's name aloud, she broke the peaceful
stillness of the sleeping house with her heartrending sobs, and her
dejected voice drowned the monotonous sound of the water that was
dripping under the arch of the mill, between the immovable paddles of
the wheel.

III

Then there came that terrible week in October when the unfortunate young
fellows who had drawn bad numbers had to join their regiments.[11]
Tiennou was one of them, and Margot was in despair to think that she
should not see him for five interminable years, that they could not
even, at that hour of sad farewells, be alone and exchange those
consoling words which afterwards alleviate the pain of absence.

[Footnote 11: Written before universal service was obligatory, and when
soldiers were selected by conscription, a certain amount of those who
drew high numbers, being exempt from service.--TRANSLATOR.]

Tiennou prowled about the house, like a starving beggar, and one
morning, while the miller was mending the wheel, he managed to see
Margot.

"I will wait for you in the old place to-night," he whispered, in
terrible grief. "I know it is the last time ... I shall throw myself
into some deep hole in the river if you do not come! ..."

"I will be there, Tiennou," she replied, in a bewildered manner. "I
swear I will be there ... even if I have to do something terrible to
enable me to come!"

       *       *       *       *       *

The village was burning in the dark night, and the flames, fanned by the
wind, rose up like sinister torches. The thatched roofs, the ricks of

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