Letters From My Windmill by Alphonse Daudet (korean novels in english TXT) 📕

picholine olives. The elixir sold in a big way,and the house of the White Canons soon became wealthy. St. Pacôme'stower was rebuilt. The Prior gloried in a new mitre, the church wasfitted with finely worked stained glass; and in the fine filigree stonework of the bell tower, a whole range of bells, large and small, rangout their first fulsome peal on one fine Easter morning.

Brother Gaucher, the poor lay Brother, whose rustic charms, who had soenlivened the chapter, is no longer to be found there. From now on, heis known only as the Reverend Father Gaucher, a capable man of greatlearning. He lives apart from the many petty concerns of the cloister,locked all day in his distillery, while thirty monks scour themountainside collecting pungent herbs for him…. The distillery was inan old unused chapel at the very bottom of the Canons' garden, and noone, not even the Prior himself, had a right of access. The innocenceof the good Fathers had transformed it into a place of mystery andwonder. If, on occasion, a bold and curious young monk made use of theclimbing vines to reach the rose window of the door, he would scrambledown soon enough, alarmed by the sight of Father Gaucher, who lookedlike a bearded magician, leaning over his flames, holding hiselixir-strength-gauge. All around, there were pink stoneware retorts,huge stills, coiled glass condensers, and all sorts of bizarreequipment, which gleamed eerily in the red light from the stained glasswindows….

At nightfall, as the last angelus bell was ringing, the door of thismysterious place silently opened, and the Reverend Father Gaucheremerged to attend the evening church service. It warmed the heart tosee him greeted with such joy as he crossed the monastery grounds. Thebrothers rushed to be at his side. They said:

—Hush! That's the Father with his secret!…

The Treasurer used to join him and spoke to him humbly….

With these adulations ringing in his ears, the Father walked on,mopping his brow, and placed his wide brimmed tricorne hat on the backof his head, where it gave all the appearance of a halo, and lookedcomplacently around at the great courtyard planted with orange trees,and the new working weathercocks on the blue roofs. In the sparklinglywhite cloister—between the elegant columns decorated with flowers—theCanons, in new clothes, were filing past in pairs, in renewed healthand well-being.

—It's thanks to me they can enjoy all that! the Reverend thought; andeach time he did, he flushed with pride.

But, the unfortunate man was to be well punished for his pride, as youwill see….

* * * * *

Who would have thought, that one evening, during the service, he wouldcome to church in an extraordinarily agitated state: red-faced, out ofbreath, his cowl askew, and so beside himself, that as he took the holywater, he wet his sleeves up to the elbow. At first, it was thought itwas the embarrassment of coming late, but he was then seen bowingdeeply to the organ and the gallery instead of genuflecting to the highaltar, and then breezing quickly across the church, and wandering aboutfor five minutes looking for his stall. After all this, once seated, heturned to right and left, smiling beatifically, prompting a murmur ofastonishment that spread down the three naves. From prayer book toprayer book the whisper went,

—What on earth is the matter with Father Gaucher?… What's wrong with

Father Gaucher?

Twice, the Prior struck his crosier impatiently on the flagstones tocommand silence…. Over at the back of the choir, the psalms werestill echoing out, but without any responses….

Suddenly, right in the middle of the Ave Verum, Father Gaucherslumped back into his stall and began singing in a piercing voice:

In Paris, there was a White Canon,

Who went all the way with a black nun….

This caused everyone great dismay, and they all stood up. Somebody said:

—Take him out … he's possessed!

The Canons crossed themselves. His Grace's crosier was clattering madlyaway…. But Father Gaucher, was oblivious to all this; and two monkswere obliged to carry him out through the little choir door, strugglingas if he were being exorcised, and continuing with his hmm … tune….

* * * * *

Very early the next day, the unhappy Father was in the Prior's oratoryon his knees, in floods of tears, showing his contrition:

—It's the elixir, your Grace, which caught me out, he said, strikinghis chest. The good Prior himself was very moved to see him so grievedand penitent.

—Come, come, Father Gaucher, calm down. All this will disappear likedew in the sunshine…. After all, worse things happen at sea. Lots ofpeople begin to sing when they are a little… hmm, hmm! We must hopethat novices wouldn't have understood it…. For the moment, let's see,tell me just how this thing came to pass…. You were trying out theliqueur, weren't you? You were perhaps a little generous with yourmeasure…. Yes, yes, I understand…. It's just like Brother Schwartz,the inventor of gunpowder: you succumbed to your own invention…. Tellme, my dear friend, is it really necessary to test this terrificliqueur on yourself?

—Alas, yes your Grace … the elixir-strength-gauge tells me thedegree of the alcohol, but for the smoothness of the finished product,I can trust nothing but my own palate….

—Oh yes, that's right … but if I might press you a little further… when you taste the elixir in that way, does it seem good to you? Isit enjoyable?…

—Yes, I'm afraid it does your Grace, admitted the miserable Father,flushing…. For two nights now, I found it had such a bouquet, such anaroma!… The devil himself has played this dirty trick on me…. Fromnow on, I am determined only to try it by means of theelixir-strength-gauge. Never mind if the liqueur is not good enough,and if it isn't quite a diamond of a drink….

—Hold it right there, interrupted the Prior, sharply, We must not riskupsetting the customers…. All you need to do for the moment, as aprecaution, is to keep a eye on yourself…. Let's see, how much doesit take to fully establish the quality?… Lets say twenty drops…. Itwould need a hell of a devil to catch you out