Bilingual Education - Every Monday, revise or learn some French online.

"The curse!" echoed Mary Mulrady, with youthful feminine superstition. "What is that?"
"You knew not, friend Mulrady, that quand ces terres furent données à my ancestors by Charles V., l'évêque of Monterey laid a curse contre quiconque who should desecrate them. Good! Let us see! Of the three Americanos qui fondèrent yonder town, one was shot, another died of a fever--empoisonné, you understand, by the soil--et le dernier got himself crazy of aguardiente. Even the scientifico,* who came here des années auparavant ago and spied into the trees and the herbs: he was afterwards punished for his profanation, and mourut accidentellement in other lands. But," added Don Ramon, with grave courtesy, "this touches not yourself. Through me, YOU are of the soil."

* Don Ramon faisait sans doute allusion to the eminent naturalist Douglas, who visited California before la fièvre de l'or, and died of an accident in the Sandwich Islands.

"They are savages who expect to reap where ils n'ont pas semé; to take out of the earth without returning anything to it sauf leur précieuse carcasse ; heathens, who adorent the mere stones they dig up." "And was there no Spaniard who ever dug gold?" asked Mulrady, simply. "Ah, there are Spaniards and Moors," responded Don Ramon, sententiously. "Gold has been dug, and by caballeros; mais rien de bon n'en est jamais sorti. There were Alvarados in Sonora, look you, who had des mines d'argent, and worked them with peons and mules, and lost their money--a gold mine to work a silver one--like gentlemen! But this grubbing in the dirt avec ses propres doigts, that a little gold may stick to them, is not for caballeros. And then, one says nothing de la malédiction."

Mulrady might have been pardoned for adopting this popular opinion; but by an equally incongruous sentiment, peculiar, however, to the man, il rendit visite à Don Ramon, and actually offered d'acheter the land, or "go shares" with him in the agricultural profits. On dit que the Don was so struck with this concession that he not only accorda the land, but struck up a quaint reserved friendship for the simple-minded agriculturist and his family. Il est à peine besoin d'ajouter que this intimacy was viewed by the miners with the contempt that it méritait. They auraient été more contemptuous, however, had they known the opinion that Don Ramon entertained of their particular vocation, and which he early confia à Mulrady.

La seule opposition came, de façon assez incongrue, from the original pastoral propriétaire du terrain, one Don Ramon Alvarado, whose claim for seven leagues of hill and valley, y compris the now prosperous towns of Rough-and-Ready and Red Dog, ne rencontrait que simple derision from the squatters and miners.
"Looks ez ef we woz goin' to travel three thousand miles to open up his d--d old wilderness, and then pay pour la plus-value we give it--don't it? Oh, yes, certainly!" was leur commentaire ironique.

When Alvin Mulrady announced his intention de cultiver des pommes de terre and garden "truck" on the green slopes of Los Gatos, la communauté minière of that region, and le hameau voisin of "Rough-and- Ready," regarded it with the indifférence hautaine usually shown by those adventurers towards all activités bucoliques. There was certainly no active objection to the occupation of two flancs de collines, which gave so little promise to the prospector for gold that it was currently raconté that a single prospector, called "Slinn," had once gone mad or imbecile à cause de ses échecs répétés.

A rough unprofessional-looking man à ces mots descended from the inside of the coach, and, sans ménagements thrusting aside the other curious passengers, suddenly se pencha surleant over the heap of clothes in a professional attitude.
"Il est mort," said one of the passengers.
The rough man let the passive head sink softly down again.
"Il n'a pas cette chance," he said curtly, but not unkindly. "It's une attaque de paralysie --and about as big as they make 'em. Il aura de la chance si he ever speaks or moves again as long as he lives."

But when la diligence came with the flashing sun le lendemain matin, and the irresistible clamor of life and action, le conducteur suddenly laid his four spirited horses on their haunches before the quiet spot. The express messenger descendit de the box, and approached what seemed to be un tas de guenilles upon the boulder.
"He don't seem to be drunk," he said, en réponse à a querulous interrogation from the passengers. "I can't make him out. Ses yeux sont ouverts, but he cannot speak or move. Examinez-le, Doc."

The sun seemed to go down in a rosy dream of his own happiness, tandis qu'il restait assis là . Later, the shadows of the trees s'épaissirent and surrounded him, and plus tard encore fell the calm of a quiet evening sky with far-spaced passionless stars, that seemed as little troubled par ce qu'elles contemplaient as he was by the stealthy vie rampante in the grasses and underbrush at his feet. The dull patter of soft little feet in the soft dust of the road, the gentle gleam de la brume and wondering little eyes on the branches and in the moussus edges of the boulder, ne le perturbaient pas. He sat patiently through it all, comme s'il n'avait pas encore pris sa décision.

And now, strange to say, the uneasiness and perplexity qui avaient pris possession de lui ever since he had stood before his revealed wealth le quitta like a burden laid upon the wayside. A incommensurable peace stole over him, in which visions of his new-found fortune, no longer a trouble and perplexity, but crowned with happiness and bénédictions to all around him, assumed proportions far beyond his own weak, égoïstes plans. In its even-handed benefaction, sa femme et ses enfants, his friends and relations, even his late poor companion of the hillside, met and moved harmoniously together; in its far-reaching consequences there was only l'influence du bien . It was not strange that ce pauvre esprit limité should never have conceived la signification of the wealth extended to him; or that conceiving it he should faint and falter under the revelation. Enough that for a few minutes he must have goûté a joy of perfect anticipation that years de possession réelle might never bring.

And now, at the hour when he le plus needed his faculties, what was the meaning of this strange benumbing of them!
Patience! He only wanted a little rest--un peu de temps pour se remettre. There was a large boulder sous un arbre in the highway of the settlement--un endroit abrité where he had often waited for the coming of la diligence. He would go there, and when he was sufficiently rested and calmé he would go on.
Nevertheless, on his way il bifurqua and turned into the woods, for no other apparent purpose than to find un arbre creux. "A hollow tree." Yes! that was what Masters had said; il s'en souvenait distinctly; and something was to be done there, but what it was, or why it should be done, il n'aurait pu le dire. However, it was done, and very luckily, car ses jambes pouvaient à peine le porter, and reaching that boulder il s'y laissa tomber like another stone.

He was alone now avec son secret et son trésor. Le seul homme au monde who knew of the exact position of his tunnel était parti forever. It was not likely that ce compagnon de hasard of a few weeks would ever remember him or the locality again; he would now leave his treasure alone--for even a day perhaps--jusqu'à ce qu'il ait élaboré some plan and sought out some friend in whom to confide. Sa vie retirée, the singular habits of concentration which had finalement proved so successful had, at the same time, left him peu de relations and no associates. And in all his plans soigneusement établis well-laid plans and patiently-digested theories for finding the treasure, les moyens et les méthodes of working it and disposing of it had never entered.

Following the direction of Masters' eyes, Slinn looked down and saw, à sa complète surprise, that he was holding an inachevée pencilled note in his hand. How it came there, when he had written it, il ne pouvait le dire; he dimly remembered that one of his first impulses was to write à sa femme, but that he had already done so il l'avait oublié. He hastily concealed the note in his breast-pocket, with a vacant smile. Masters eyed him half contemptuously, half compassionately.
"Don't forget yourself and drop it in some hollow tree for a boîte à lettres," be said. "Well--so long!--since you won't drink. Prenez soin de vous," and, turning on his heel, Masters walked away.
Slinn le regarda tandis qu'il crossed over to his abandoned claim, saw him rassembler his few mining utensils, strap his blanket over his back, lift his hat on his pelle à long manche as a token of farewell, and then stride le coeur léger over the ridge.

C'était vrai. Slinn avait souvent envié à Masters' promptness of decision and resolution. But he only looked at the grim face of son interlocuteur with a feeble sense of soulagement. Il allait partir. And he, Slinn, n'aurait rien à expliquer! He murmured something about having to go over au campement on business. He dreaded lest Masters should insist upon going into the tunnel.
"I suppose you want poster cette lettre," said Masters, drily. "The mail ne partira pas avant demain, so vous avez le temps de la terminer, and put it dans une enveloppe."

Here was the opportunity de tout lui dire, and vindicate the justice of his theories! But he shrank from it again; and now, adding to the confusion, was a singular sense of dread at the mental labor of explanation. Il se contenta de sourire douloureusement, and began to move away. "Look you!" said Masters, peremptorily, "ye want about three fingers of straight whiskey pour vous remettre d'aplomb, and you've got to take it with me. D--n it, man, c'est peut-être le dernier verre que nous prendrons ensemble! Don't look so skeered! I mean--j'ai pris ma décision about ten minutes ago to cut the whole d--d thing, and light out for fresh diggings. I'm sick of getting only grub wages out o' this bill. So c'est ce que je veux dire by saying it's the last drink you and me'll take together. Vous savez comment je suis: sayin' and doin' with me's the same thing."

Slinn was sur le point de lui parler deon the point of telling him his good fortune, but stopped. The unlucky question confirmed his consciousness de son trouble mental et physique, and il redoutait the ready ridicule of his companion. Il le lui dirait plus tard; Masters need not know WHEN he had made the strike. Besides, in his present vagueness, he shrank from the brusque, practical questioning qui suivrait certainement the revelation to a man of Masters' temperament.
"I'm a little giddy here," he answered, putting his hand to his head, "and I thought I'd knock off jusqu'à ce que j'aille mieux."
Masters examined him with two very critical gray eyes. "Tell ye what, old man!--if you don't quit this dog-goned foolin' of yours in that God-forsaken tunnel vous allez devenir dingue! Times you get so tangled up in follerin' that blind lead o' yours vous n'êtes pas raisonnable!"

Pendant ce temps, however, the neighbor had apparently finished his pipe, and, knocking the ashes out of it, se leva brusquement, and ended any further uncertainty of their meeting by walking over directly vers lui. The treasure-finder advanced a few steps on his side, and then stopped irresolutely.
"Hollo, Slinn!" said the neighbor, confidently.
"Hollo, Masters," responded Slinn, faintly. Au son de leur voix a stranger might have mistaken their relative condition.
"What in thunder are you mooning about for? Que se passe-t-il?" Then, remarquant of Slinn's pale and anxious face, he added abruptly,
"Are you sick?"

Dès qu'il aurait fait connaître sa découverte, and settled its value, he would send for his wife and her children in the States. Il bâtirait a fine house sur la colline d'en face, if she would consent to it, à moins qu'elle ne préfère, for the children's sake, to live in San Francisco. A sense of une perte of independence--of a change of circumstances qui ne lui laissait plus his own master-- began to perplex him, au milieu de his brightest projects. Certain other relations avec d'autres membres de sa famille, which had lapsed by absence and his insignificance, must now be taken up de nouveau. He must do something for his sister Jane, for his brother William, pour les parents pauvres de sa femme. Ce serait injuste to him to say that il envisageait those things with any other instinct than that of generosity; toutefois he was conscious of being already perplexe et embarrassé.

Yes; it was there! No mere "pocket" or "deposit," but a part of the actual vein qu'il avait cherchée pendant si longtemps. It was there, sure enough, lying beside the pick and the debris of the "face" of the vein that he had exposed sufficiently, après le premier choc of discovery, to assure himself of the fact and the permanence of his fortune. It was there, and with it the refutation des sarcasmes de ses ennemis, the corroboration of his friends' belief, the practical demonstration de ses propres théories, the reward of his patient labors. It was there, sure enough. But, somehow, non seulement il ne réussissait pas à recall the first joy of discovery, but il était conscient of a vague sense of responsibility and unrest. It was, sans aucun doute, an enormous fortune to a man in his circumstances: perhaps it meant a couple of hundred thousand dollars, or more, à en juger d'après the value of the old Martin lead, which was not as rich as this, but it required to be worked constantly and judiciously. It was with a decided sense of uneasiness that he again sought the la lumière du jour of the hillside. Son voisin was still visible on the adjacent claim; but he had apparently stopped working, and was contemplatively smoking a pipe sous un grand pin. For an instant he envied him his apparent contentment. He had a sudden fierce and inexplicable desire to go over to him and exasperate his easy poverty by a revelation of his own trésor tout neuf. But even that sensation quickly passed, and left him staring d'un air absent at the landscape again.

A Millionaire of Rough-and-Ready
by Bret HARTE

Prologue
Cette fois, on ne pouvait s'y tromper: he had struck gold at last! It had lain there before him a moment ago-un morceau difforme of brown-stained quartz, interspersed with dull yellow metal; assez mou pour have allowed the points of his pick to penetrate its honeycombed recesses, yet assez lourd pour drop from the point of his pick comme il s'efforçait de lift it from the red earth.

Il voyait tout ça très distinctement, although he found himself, il ne savait pas pourquoi, at some distance from the scene of his discovery, his heart foolishly beating, sa respiration s'accéléra malgré lui. Yet he was walking slowly and vaguely; conscious of stopping and staring at le paysage, which no longer looked familiar to him. He was hoping for some instinct or force of habit pour le ramener à lui; yet when he saw a neighbor at work dans une concession adjaçante, he hesitated, and then turned his back upon him. Pourtant only a moment before il avait pensé of running to him, saying, "By Jingo! I've struck it," or "D...n it, old man, I've got it"; mais ce moment avait passé, and now il lui semblait qu'il pourrait à peine raise his voice, or, if he did, the ejaculation apparaîtrait forced and artificial. Il ne pouvait pas non plus go over to him coolly and tell his good fortune; and, partly from this strange shyness, and partly avec l'espoir que another survey of the treasure might restore him to natural expression, il retourna to his tunnel.