The Martian: A Novel

Strangely enough, she grew to be the tallest of all her sisters, and the most beautiful in the face; she was so wasted and thin she could hardly be said to have had a body or limbs at all.

I think the greatest pleasure she had was to lie and be sung to by Mary or her father, or played to by Roberta, or chatted to about domestic matters by Leah, or read to by me. She took the keenest interest in everything that concerned us all; she lived out of herself entirely, and from day to day, taking short views of life.

It filled her with animation to see the people who came to the house and talk with them; and among these she made many passionately devoted friends.

There were also poor children from the families of laborers in the neighborhood, in whom she had always taken a warm interest. She now organized them into regular classes, and taught and amused them and told them stories, sang funny songs to them, and clothed and fed them with nice things, and they grew to her an immense hobby and constant occupation.

She also became a quite surprising performer on the banjo, which her father had taught her when she was quite a little girl, and invented charming tunes and effects and modulations that had never been tried on that humble instrument before. She could have made a handsome living out of it, crippled as she was.

She seemed the busiest, drollest, and most contented person in Marsfield; she all but consoled us for the dreadful thing that had happened to herself, and laughingly pitied us for pitying her.

So much for the teaching of Barty Josselin, whose books she knew by heart, and constantly read and reread.

And thus, in spite of all, the old, happy, resonant cheerfulness gradually found its way back to Marsfield, as though nothing had happened; and poor broken Marty, who had always been our idol, became our goddess, our prop and mainstay, the angel in the house, the person for every one to tell their troubles to – little or big – their jokes, their good stories; there was never a laugh like hers, so charged with keen appreciation of the humorous thing, the relish of which would come back to her again and again at any time – even in the middle of the night when she could not always sleep for her pain; and she would laugh anew.

Ida Scatcherd and I, with good Nurse Sparrow to help, wished to take her to Italy – to Egypt – but she would not leave Marsfield, unless it were to spend the winter months with all of us at Lancaster Gate, or the autumn in the Highlands or on the coast of Normandy.

And indeed neither Barty nor Leah nor the rest could have got on without her; they would have had to come, too – brothers, sisters, young husbands, grandchildren, and all.

Never but once did she give way. It was one June evening, when I was reading to her some favorite short poems out of Browning's Men and Women on a small lawn surrounded with roses, and of which she was fond.

The rest of the family were on the river, except her father and mother, who were dressing to go and dine with some neighbors; for a wonder, as they seldom dined away from home.

The carriage drove up to the door to fetch them, and they came out on the lawn to wish us good‐night.

Never had I been more struck with the splendor of Barty and his wife, now verging towards middle age, as they bent over to kiss their daughter, and he cut capers and cracked little jokes to make her laugh.

Leah's hair was slightly gray and her magnificent figure somewhat matronly, but there were no other signs of autumn; her beautiful white skin was still as delicate as a baby's, her jet‐black eyes as bright and full, her teeth just as they were thirty years back.

Tall as she was, her husband towered over her, the finest and handsomest man of his age I have ever seen. And Marty gazed after them with her heart in her eyes as they drove off.

"How splendid they are, Uncle Bob!"

Then she looked down at her own shrunken figure and limbs – her long, wasted legs and her thin, slight feet that were yet so beautifully shaped.

And, hiding her face in her hands, she began to cry:

"And I'm their poor little daughter – oh dear, oh dear!"

She wept silently for a while, and I said nothing, but endured an agony such as I cannot describe.

Then she dried her eyes and smiled, and said:

"What a goose I am," and, looking at me —

"Oh! Uncle Bob, forgive me; I've made you very unhappy – it shall never happen again!"

Suddenly the spirit moved me to tell her the story of Martia.

Leah and Barty and I had often discussed whether she should be told this extraordinary thing, in which we never knew whether to believe or not, and which, if there were a possibility of its being true, concerned Marty so directly.

They settled that they would leave it entirely to me – to tell her or not, as my own instinct would prompt me, should the opportunity occur.

My instinct prompted me to do so now. I shall not forget that evening.

The full moon rose before the sun had quite set, and I talked on and on. The others came in to dinner. She and I had some dinner brought to us out there, and on I talked – and she could scarcely eat for listening. I wrapped her well up, and lit pipe after pipe, and went on talking, and a nightingale sang, but quite unheard by Marty Josselin.

She did not even hear her sister Mary, whose voice went lightly up to heaven through the open window:

"Oh that we two were maying!"

And when we parted that night she thanked and kissed me so effusively I felt that I had been happily inspired.

"I believe every word of it's true; I know it, I feel it! Uncle Bob, you have changed my life; I have often desponded when nobody knew – but never again! Dear papa! Only think of him! As if any human being alive could write what he has written without help from above or outside. Of course it's all true; I sometimes think I can almost remember things… I'm sure I can."

Barty and Leah were well pleased with me when they came home that night.

That Marty was doomed to an early death did not very deeply distress them. It is astonishing how lightly they thought of death, these people for whom life seemed so full of joy; but that she should ever be conscious of the anguish of her lot while she lived was to them intolerable – a haunting preoccupation.

To me, a narrower and more selfish person, Marty had almost become to me life itself – her calamity had made her mine forever; and life without her had become a thing not to be conceived: her life was my life.

That life of hers was to be even shorter than we thought, and I love to think that what remained of it was made so smooth and sweet by what I told her that night.

I read all Martia's blaze letters to her, and helped her to read them for herself, and so did Barty. She got to know them by heart – especially the last; she grew to talk as Martia wrote; she told me of strange dreams she had often had – dreams she had told Sparrow and her own brothers and sisters when she was a child – wondrous dreams, in their seeming confirmation of what seemed to us so impossible. Her pains grew slighter and ceased.

And now her whole existence had become a dream – a tranquil, happy dream; it showed itself in her face, its transfigured, unearthly beauty – in her cheerful talk, her eager sympathy; a kind of heavenly pity she seemed to feel for those who had to go on living out their normal length of days. And always the old love of fun and frolic and pretty tunes.

Her father would make her laugh till she cried, and the same fount of tears would serve when Mary sang Brahms and Schubert and Lassen to her – and Roberta played Chopin and Schumann by the hour.

So she might have lived on for a few years – four or five – even ten. But she died at seventeen, of mere influenza, very quickly and without much pain. Her father and mother were by her bedside when her spirit passed away, and Dr. Knight, who had brought her into the world.

She woke from a gentle doze and raised her head, and called out in a clear voice:

"Barty – Leah – come, to me, come!"

And fell back dead.

Barty bowed his head and face on her hand, and remained there as if asleep. It was Leah who drew her eyelids down.

An hour later Dr. Knight came to me, his face distorted with grief.

"It's all over?" I said.

"Yes, it's all over."

"And Leah?"

"Mrs. Josselin is with her husband. She's a noble woman; she seems to bear it well."

"And Barty?"

"Barty Josselin is no more."

THE END

GLOSSARY

[First figure indicates Page; second figure, Line.]

3, 26. odium theologicum– theological hatred.

3, 27. sæva indignatio– fierce indignation.

5, 1. "De Paris à Versailles," etc. —

"From Paris to Versailles, lon, là,From Paris to Versailles —There are many fine walks,Hurrah for the King of France!There are many fine walks,Hurrah for the school-boys!"

5, 2. salle d'études des petits– study‐room of the smaller boys.

6, 11. parloir– parlor.

6, 14. e da capo– and over again.

6, 16. le Grand Bonzig– the Big Bonzig.

6, 17. estrade– platform.

8, 2. à la malcontent– convict style.

8, 5. ceinture de gymnastique– a wide gymnasium belt.

8, 16. marchand de coco– licorice‐water seller.

8, 17. Orphéonistes– members of musical societies.

8, 32. exceptis excipiendis– exceptions being made.

9, 10. "Infandum, regina, jubes renovare" ("dolorem"), etc. – "Thou orderest me, O queen, to renew the unutterable grief."

9, 17. "Mouche‐toi donc, animal! tu me dégoûtes, à la fin!" – "Blow your nose, you beast, you disgust me!"

9, 20. "Taisez‐vous, Maurice – ou je vous donne cent vers à copier!" – "Hold your tongue, Maurice, or I will give you a hundred lines to copy!"

10, 20. "Oui, m'sieur!" – "Yes, sir!"

10, 25. "Moi, m'sieur?" – "I, sir?"

10, 26. "Oui, vous!" – "Yes, you!"

10, 27. "Bien, m'sieur!" – "Very well, sir!"

10, 31. "Le Roi qui passe!" – "There goes the King!"

12, 3. "Fermez les fenêtres, ou je vous mets tous au pain sec pour un mois!" – "Shut the windows, or I will put you all on dry bread for a month!"

13, 1. "Soyez diligent et attentif, mon ami; à plus tard!" – "Be diligent and attentive, my friend; I will see you later!"

13, 6. en cinquième– in the fifth class.

13, 11. le nouveau– the new boy.

14, 8. "Fermez votre pupitre" – "Shut your desk."

14, 34. jocrisse– effeminate man.

15, 1. paltoquet– clown.petit polisson– little scamp.

15, 32. lingère– seamstress.

16, 13. quatrième– fourth class.

16, 21. "Notre Père, … les replies les plus profonds de nos cœurs" – "Our Father, who art in heaven, Thou whose searching glance penetrates even to the inmost recesses of our hearts."

16, 24. "au nom du Père, du Fils, et du St. Esprit, ainsi soit‐il!" – "in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, so be it!"

18, 21. concierge– janitor.croquets– crisp almond cakes.

18, 22. blom‐boudingues– plum puddings.pains d'épices– gingerbreads.sucre‐d'orge– barley sugar.

18, 23. nougat– almond cake.pâte de guimauve– marshmallow paste.pralines– burnt almonds.dragées– sugarplums.

18, 30. le père et la mère– father and mother.

19, 2. corps de logis– main buildings.

19, 13. la table des grands– the big boys' table.l

a table des petits– the little boys' table.

19, 27. brouet noir des Lacédémoniens– the black broth of the Spartans.

20, 25. À la retenue– To be kept in.

20, 29. barres traversières– crossbars.

20, 30. la raie– leap‐frog.

21, 14. rentiers– stockholders.

21, 20. Classe d'Histoire de France au moyen âge– Class of the History of France during the Middle Ages.

21, 27. trente‐septième légère– thirty‐seventh light infantry.

22, 13. nous avons changé tout cela!– we have changed all that!

22, 16. représentant du peuple– representative of the people.

22, 19. les nobles– the nobles.

22, 27. par parenthèse– by way of parenthesis.

22, 30. lingerie– place where linen is kept.

24, 30. Berthe aux grands pieds– Bertha of the big feet. (She was the mother of Charlemagne, and is mentioned in the poem that Du Maurier elsewhere calls "that never to be translated, never to be imitated lament, the immortal 'Ballade des Dames du Temps Jadis'" of François Villon.)

25, 23. Allée du Bois de Boulogne– Lane of the Bois de Boulogne.

25, 28. pensionnat– boarding‐school.

28, 4. la belle Madame de Ronsvic– the beautiful Lady Runswick.

28, 33. deuxième Spahis– second Spahi regiment.

30, 4. Mare aux Biches– The Roes Pool.

30, 14. la main si malheureuse– such an unfortunate hand.

31, 2. La Dieppoise– a dance of Dieppe.

31, 5. "Beuvons, donc," etc."Let's drink, drink, drink then Of this, the best wine in the world …Let's drink, drink, drink then Of this, the very best wine!For if I didn't drink it, I might get the pip!Which would make me…"

31, 13. "Ah, mon Dieu! quel amour d'enfant! Oh! gardons‐le!" – "Ah, my Lord! what a love of a child! Oh! let us keep him!"

32, 5. cæteris paribus– other things being equal.

34, 19. à propos– seasonable.

35, 3. chaire– master's raised desk.

35, 6. recueillement– contemplation.

35, 11. "Non, m'sieur, je n'dors pas. J' travaille." – "No, sir, I'm not asleep. I'm working."

36, 1. à la porte– to leave the room.

36, 14. On demande Monsieur Josselin au parloir– Mr. Josselin is wanted in the parlor.

36, 24. pensum– a task.

36, 31. maître de mathématiques (et de cosmographie) – teacher of mathematics (and cosmography).

37, 17. Mes compliments– My compliments.

38, 5. "Quelquefois je sais … il n'y a pas à s'y tromper!" – "Sometimes I know – sometimes I don't – but when I know, I know, and there is no mistake about it!"

38, 18. "À l'amandier!" – "At the almond‐tree!"

38, 21. la balle au camp– French baseball.

39, 6. aussi simple que bonjour– as easy as saying good‐day.

40, 17. "C'était pour Monsieur Josselin." – "It was for Mr. Josselin!"

41, 11. quorum pars magna fui– of which I was a great part.

41,16. bourgeois gentilhomme– citizen gentleman. (The title of one of Molière's comedies in which M. Jourdain is the principal character.)

42, 29. Dis donc– Say now.

43, 4. "Ma foi, non! c'est pas pour ça!"– "My word, no! it isn't for that!"

43, 5. "Pourquoi, alors?" – "Why, then?"

43, 21. Jolivet trois– the third Jolivet.

44, 2. au rabais– at bargain sales.

44, 32. "Comme c'est bête, de s'battre, hein?" – "How stupid it is to fight, eh?"

45, 9. tuum et meum– thine and mine.

45, 19. magnifique– magnificent.

45, 32. La quatrième Dimension– The fourth Dimension.

46, 14. Étoiles mortes– Dead Stars.

46, 15. Les Trépassées de François Villon– The Dead of François Villon.

46, 29. École des Ponts et Chaussées– School of Bridges and Roads.

47, 8. en cachette– in hiding.Quelle sacrée pose!– What a damned bluff!

47, 12. "Dis donc, Maurice! – prête‐moi ton Ivanhoé!" – "Say now, Maurice! – lend me your Ivanhoe!"

47, 20. "Rapaud, comment dit‐on 'pouvoir' en anglais?" – "Rapaud, how do they say 'to be able' in English?"

47, 21. "Sais pas, m'sieur!" – "Don't know, sir!"

47, 22. "Comment, petit crétin, tu ne sais pas!" – "What, little idiot, you don't know!"

47, 26. "Je n' sais pas!" – "I don't know!"

47, 27. "Et toi, Maurice" – "And you, Maurice?"

47, 28. "Ça se dit 'to be able' m'sieur!" – "They would say 'to be able,' sir!"

47, 29. "Mais non, mon ami … 'je voudrais pouvoir'?" – "Why no, my friend – you forget your native language – they would say 'to can'! Now, how would you say, 'I would like to be able' in English?"

47, 32. Je dirais– I would say.

47, 33. "Comment, encore! petit cancre! allons – tu es Anglais – tu sais bien que tu dirais!" – "What, again! little dunce – come, you are English – you know very well that you would say, …"

48, 1. À ton tour– Your turn.

48, 4. "Oui, toi – comment dirais‐tu, 'je pourrais vouloir'?" – "Yes, you – how would you say 'I would be able to will'?"

48, 7. "À la bonne heure! au moins tu sais ta langue, toi!" – "Well and good! you at least know your language!"

48, 17. Île des Cygnes– Isle of Swans.

48, 18. École de Natation– Swimming‐school.

48, 26. Jardin des Plantes– The Paris Zoological Gardens.

49, 1.

"Laissons les regrets et les pleurs A la vieillesse;Jeunes, il faut cueillir les fleurs De la jeunesse!"– Baïf."Let us leave regrets and tearsTo age;Young, we must gather the flowersOf youth."

49, 13. demi‐tasse– small cup of coffee.

49, 14. chasse‐café– drink taken after coffee.

49, 19. consommateur– consumer.

49, 21. Le petit mousse noir– The little black cabin boy.

49, 24. "Allons, Josselin, chante‐nous ça!" – "Come, Josselin, sing that to us!"

50, 7. "Écoute‐moi bien, ma Fleurette"– "Listen well to me, my Fleurette.""Amis, la matinée est belle" – "Friends, the morning is fine."

50, 12. "Conduis ta barque avec prudence," etc.

"Steer thy bark with prudence,Fisherman! speak low!Throw thy nets in silence,Fisherman! speak low!And through our toils the kingOf the seas can never go."

52, 21. Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle– Boulevard of Good News.

52, 24. galette du gymnase– flat cake, sold in booths near the Theatre du Gymnase.

52, 26. yashmak– a double veil worn by Turkish women.

52, 34. queue– in a line.

53, 5. chiffonniers– rag‐pickers.

53, 33. Accélérées (en correspondence avec les Constantines)– Express omnibuses (connecting with the Constantine line).

54, 3. comme on ne l'est plus– as one is no longer.

54, 6. distribution de prix– prize distribution.

54, 19. "Au clair de la lune!" – "By the light of the moon!" (A French nursery rhyme. Readers of "Trilby" will remember her rendering of this song at her Paris concert.)

54, 20. "Vivent les vacances – … Gaudio nostrò."

"Hurrah for the vacations —Come at length;And the punishmentsWill have ended!The ushers uncivil,With barbarous countenance,Will go to the devil,To our joy."

56, 20. Musée de Marine– Marine Museum.

56, 28. ennui– tedium.

57, 7. en rhétorique et en philosophie– in the rhetoric and philosophy classes.

57, 9. cerf‐dix‐cors– ten‐branched stags.

57, 13. ventre à terre– at full speed.

57, 17. Toujours au clair de la lune– Always by moonlight.

58, 2. hommes du monde– men of the world (in society).

58, 4. Splendide mendax– Nobly false.

58. 18. salle d'études– school‐room.

58, 22. en cinquième– in the fifth class.

59, 16. de service– on duty.

59, 17. la suite au prochain numéro– to be continued in our next.

59. 19. Le Tueur de Daims– The Deer – slayer.

59, 20. Le Lac Ontario– The Lake Ontario.Le Dernier des Mohicans– The Last of the Mohicans.Les Pionniers– The Pioneers.

59, 31. Bas‐de‐cuir– Leather‐stocking.

60, 10. la flotte de Passy– the Passy crowd.voyous– blackguards.

60, 13. Liberté – égalité – fraternité! ou la mort! Vive la république– Liberty – equality – fraternity! or death! Hurrah for the republic!

60, 22. le rappel– to arms.la générale– the fire drum.

61, 11. Brigand de la Loire– Brigand of the Loire.

62, 3. en pleine révolution– in the midst of the revolution.

62, 5. piou‐piou– the French equivalent of Tommy Atkins. A private soldier.

62, 17. Sentinelles, prenez‐garde à vous– Sentinels, keep on the alert.

62, 22. feu de peloton– platoon fire.

63, 6. "Ce sacré Josselin – il avait tous les talents!" – "That confounded Josselin – he had all the talents!"

64, 10. lebewohl– farewell.

64, 11. bonsoir, le bon Mozart– good‐night, good Mozart.

64, 13. Château des Fleurs– Castle of Flowers.

65, 5. Tout vient à qui ne sait pas attendre– Everything comes to him who does not know how to wait.

65, 13. revenons– let us go back.

65, 24. impériale– outside seat.

65, 26. saucisson de Lyon à l'ail– a Lyons sausage flavored with garlic.

65, 27. petits pains– rolls of bread.

65, 28. bière de Mars– Mars beer.

66, 12. entre les deux âges– between the two ages.

66, 18. Le Gué des Aulnes– Alders Ford.

67, 1. Si vis pacem, para bellum– If you wish peace, prepare for war.

67, 13. tutoyées– addressed as "thee" and "thou," usual only among familiars.

67, 16. bonnets de coton– cotton caps.

68, 19. à l'affût– on the watch.

68, 28. "Caïn! Caïn! qu'as‐tu fait de ton frère?" – "Caïn! Caïn! what hast thou done with thy brother?"

69, 8. le saut périlleux– the perilous leap.

69, 20. que j' n'ai jamais vu– whom I've never seen.

69, 29. "Dis‐moi qué'q' chose en anglais." – "Tell me something in English."

69, 32. "Qué'q' çà veut dire?" – "What's that mean?"

69, 33. "Il s'agit d'une église et d'un cimetière!" – "It's about a church and a cemetery!"

70, 5. "Démontre‐moi un problème de géométrie" – "Demonstrate to me a problem of geometry."

70, 13. "Démontre‐moi que A + B est plus grand que C + D." – "Demonstrate to me that A + B is greater than C + D."

70, 17. "C'est joliment beau, la géométrie!" – "It's mighty fine, this geometry!"

70, 24. brûle‐gueule– jaw‐burner (a short pipe).

70, 31. "Mange‐moi ça – ça t' fera du bien!" – "Eat that for me; it'll do you good!"

72, 1. Sais pas– Don't know.

72, 4. Père Polyphème– Father Polyphemus.

72, 12. ces messieurs– those gentlemen.

72, 22. "Hé! ma femme!" – "Hey! my wife!"

72, 23. "Voilà, voilà, mon ami!" – "Here, here, my friend!"

72, 24. "Viens vite panser mon cautère!" – "Come quick and dress my cautery!"

72, 27. café– coffee.

72, 32. "Oui, M'sieur Laferté" – "Yes, M'sieur Laferté."

72, 33. "Tire moi une gamme" – "Fire off a scale for me."

73, 3. "Ah! q' ça fait du bien!" – "Ah! that does one good!"

73, 20. "'Colin,' disait Lisette," etc. —

"'Colin,' said Lisette,'I want to cross the water!But I am too poorTo pay for the boat!''Get in, get in, my beauty!Get in, get in, nevertheless!And off with the wherryThat carries my love!'"

75, 18. le droit du seigneur– the right of the lord of the manor.

75, 27. Àmes en peine– Souls in pain.

75, 28. Sous la berge hantée, etc.

Under the haunted bankThe stagnant water lies —Under the sombre woodsThe dog‐fox cries,

And the ten‐branched stag bells, and the deer come to drink at the Pond of Respite.

"Let me go, Were‐wolf!"How dark is the poolWhen falls the night —The owl is scared,And the badger takes flight!

And one feels that the dead are awake – that a nameless shadow pursues.