The Test Page #3

"The Test" by Guy de Maupassant is a compelling short story that explores themes of love, fidelity, and the complexities of human relationships. The narrative revolves around a man's emotional turmoil as he grapples with jealousy and mistrust after he suspects his wife of infidelity. To confirm his doubts, he devises a test to gauge her loyalty, leading to unexpected revelations about both their characters and the nature of trust. Maupassant masterfully captures the intricacies of the human psyche and the consequences of insecurity, ultimately prompting readers to reflect on the fragility of love and the dangerous repercussions of unchecked suspicion.

								


“Really?”

“Yes, really!”

“Well, then! let us go along. I am delighted. You see, this misunderstanding was very unpleasant for me.”

They set out together toward the Saint-Lazare station, arm in arm. They made the trip in silence. Both seemed absorbed in deep meditation. Seated in the car, one opposite the other, they looked at each other without speaking, each observing that the other was pale.

Then they left the train and once more linked arms as if to unite against some common danger. After a walk of a few minutes they stopped, a little out of breath, before Bondel's house. Bondel ushered his friend into the parlor, called the servant, and asked: “Is madame at home?”

“Yes, monsieur.”

“Please ask her to come down at once.”

They dropped into two armchairs and waited. Both were filled with the same longing to escape before the appearance of the much-feared person.

A well-known, heavy tread could be heard descending the stairs. A hand moved the knob, and both men watched the brass handle turn. Then the door opened wide, and Madame Bondel stopped and looked to see who was there before she entered. She looked, blushed, trembled, retreated a step, then stood motionless, her cheeks aflame and her hands resting against the sides of the door frame.

Tancret, as pale as if about to faint, had arisen, letting fall his hat, which rolled along the floor. He stammered out: “Mon Dieu—madame—it is I—I thought—I ventured—I was so sorry—”

As she did not answer, he continued: “Will you forgive me?”

Then, quickly, carried away by some impulse, she walked toward him with her hands outstretched; and when he had taken, pressed, and held these two hands, she said, in a trembling, weak little voice, which was new to her husband:

“Ah! my dear friend—how happy I am!”

And Bondel, who was watching them, felt an icy chill run over him, as if he had been dipped in a cold bath.
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