The Dream Maker by Jean-Christophe Rufin, Alison Anderson Read Free Book Online

courtyard one night, going upstairs, and declaring my love to Macé, abducting her if I had to. I wondered how we would live, whether my friends would agree to help me, and how my parents would react. Not for a moment did I doubt her feelings. In hindsight, that is what seems most extraordinary. We had hardly set eyes on each other, and we had never spoken. I had absolutely no idea of her opinion and yet I was sure I was right.
    The matter came to a head one autumn morning I will never forget. The chestnut tree on the small square outside our house had turned yellow, and passersby walked through the leaves scattered on the ground. We were waiting for a delivery of fox pelts from the Morvan region. Suddenly, the tall figure of Messire de Léodepart filled the doorway to the workroom. My father rushed to greet him. I stayed back and could not hear their conversation. It seemed probable that he had come to buy a piece of fur or have something made to measure. The only thing out of the ordinary was that he should come in person. Our customers, for the most part, were women, and most often they merely sent their servants. A mad theory raced through my mind, but I banished the thought as a manifestation of the lovesickness that was eating away at me, and which, by reasoning with myself, I was gradually curing. I went up to my room and closed the door. A new little dog, which my mother had acquired at the beginning of the year, had come in with me. I played at teasing him, caressing him roughly. He nibbled at my fingers and gave out shrill little yelps. Therefore I did not immediately hear my father calling me. I hurried down the stairs. When I came into the parlor, I found Léodepart standing silently next to my father. They were both looking at me. It was an ordinary workday, and I had not taken any particular care with my appearance.
    â€œSay hello to Messire de Léodepart, please,” said my father. “He has just taken office as provost, and we craftsmen must show him our respect.”
    I greeted him awkwardly. Léodepart motioned to my father that he need not continue with that subject. He seemed eager to attenuate anything that might increase the distance between them, and his demeanor was one of good-natured simplicity. He was looking at me with a strange smile.
    â€œYou have a fine boy, maître Cœur,” he said, nodding his head and smiling.
    The introductions went no farther, and he took his leave.
    After seeing him out, my father remained silent and gave me no explanation. My mother came back from a visit shortly before the midday meal. They sat together for a long time behind closed doors, then sent for me.
    â€œDo you know Léodepart’s daughter?” asked my father.
    â€œI’ve seen her in the street.”
    â€œHave you spoken with her? Have you sent her messages through a servant, or by any other means?”
    â€œNever.”
    My parents looked at each other.
    â€œWe will go to their house on Sunday,” said my father. “You will try to be well-groomed. I shall finish the new fur tunic I promised you by then and you shall wear it.”
    I thanked him, but my desires were elsewhere and I could not resist asking the question.
    â€œWhat do they want, exactly?”
    â€œTo marry the two of you.”
    And so it was, thanks to a few words my father uttered through his teeth, that I was told of my destiny. I had been mistaken about everything, except the most important thing: Macé shared my feelings. She had succeeded where I had only come up against the wall of my circumstances. I later learned that she had been interested in me for a long time, even when she was still a child. She been charmed by the story of my adventures during the siege of the town, and had discreetly obtained information about me through her friends who had brothers my age. Obviously she had seen my confusion when at last I did notice her, and yet she had enough composure not to let