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第12章

albert savarus-第12章

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Rupt。 This enterprise; which to the Abbe de Grancey even would have
seemed the climax of the impossible; was a mere passing thought。

〃Ah!〃 said she to herself; 〃my father has a dispute pending as to his
land at les Rouxey。 I will go there! If there is no lawsuit; I will
manage to make one; and /he/ shall come into our drawing…room!〃 she
cried; as she sprang out of bed and to the window to look at the
fascinating gleam which shone through Albert's nights。 The clock
struck one; he was still asleep。

〃I shall see him when he gets up; perhaps he will come to his window。〃

At this instant Mademoiselle de Watteville was witness to an incident
which promised to place in her power the means of knowing Albert's
secrets。 By the light of the moon she saw a pair of arms stretched out
from the kiosk to help Jerome; Albert's servant; to get across the
coping of the wall and step into the little building。 In Jerome's
accomplice Rosalie at once recognized Mariette the lady's…maid。

〃Mariette and Jerome!〃 said she to herself。 〃Mariette; such an ugly
girl! Certainly they must be ashamed of themselves。〃

Though Mariette was horribly ugly and six…and…thirty; she had
inherited several plots of land。 She had been seventeen years with
Madame de Watteville; who valued her highly for her bigotry; her
honesty; and long service; and she had no doubt saved money and
invested her wages and perquisites。 Hence; earning about ten louis a
year; she probably had by this time; including compound interest and
her little inheritance; not less than ten thousand francs。

In Jerome's eyes ten thousand francs could alter the laws of optics;
he saw in Mariette a neat figure; he did not perceive the pits and
seams which virulent smallpox had left on her flat; parched face; to
him the crooked mouth was straight; and ever since Savaron; by taking
him into his service; had brought him so near to the Wattevilles'
house; he had laid siege systematically to the maid; who was as prim
and sanctimonious as her mistress; and who; like every ugly old maid;
was far more exacting than the handsomest。

If the night…scene in the kiosk is thus fully accounted for to all
perspicacious readers; it was not so to Rosalie; though she derived
from it the most dangerous lesson that can be given; that of a bad
example。 A mother brings her daughter up strictly; keeps her under her
wing for seventeen years; and then; in one hour; a servant girl
destroys the long and painful work; sometimes by a word; often indeed
by a gesture! Rosalie got into bed again; not without considering how
she might take advantage of her discovery。

Next morning; as she went to Mass accompanied by Marietteher mother
was not wellRosalie took the maid's arm; which surprised the country
wench not a little。

〃Mariette;〃 said she; 〃is Jerome in his master's confidence?〃

〃I do not know; mademoiselle。〃

〃Do not play the innocent with me;〃 said Mademoiselle de Watteville
drily。 〃You let him kiss you last night under the kiosk; I no longer
wonder that you so warmly approved of my mother's ideas for the
improvements she planned。〃

Rosalie could feel how Mariette was trembling by the shaking of her
arm。

〃I wish you no ill;〃 Rosalie went on。 〃Be quite easy; I shall not say
a word to my mother; and you can meet Jerome as often as you please。〃

〃But; mademoiselle;〃 said Mariette; 〃it is perfectly respectable;
Jerome honestly means to marry me〃

〃But then;〃 said Rosalie; 〃why meet at night?〃

Mariette was dumfounded; and could make no reply。

〃Listen; Mariette; I am in love too! In secret and without any return。
I am; after all; my father's and mother's only child。 You have more to
hope for from me than from any one else in the world〃

〃Certainly; mademoiselle; and you may count on us for life or death;〃
exclaimed Mariette; rejoiced at the unexpected turn of affairs。

〃In the first place; silence for silence;〃 said Rosalie。 〃I will not
marry Monsieur de Soulas; but one thing I will have; and must have; my
help and favor are yours on one condition only。〃

〃What is that?〃

〃I must see the letters which Monsieur Savaron sends to the post by
Jerome。〃

〃But what for?〃 said Mariette in alarm。

〃Oh! merely to read them; and you yourself shall post them afterwards。
It will cause a little delay; that is all。〃

At this moment they went into church; and each of them; instead of
reading the order of Mass; fell into her own train of thought。

〃Dear; dear; how many sins are there in all that?〃 thought Mariette。

Rosalie; whose soul; brain; and heart were completely upset by reading
the story; by this time regarded it as history; written for her rival。
By dint of thinking of nothing else; like a child; she ended by
believing that the /Eastern Review/ was no doubt forwarded to Albert's
lady…love。

〃Oh!〃 said she to herself; her head buried in her hands in the
attitude of a person lost in prayer; 〃oh! how can I get my father to
look through the list of people to whom the /Review/ is sent?〃

After breakfast she took a turn in the garden with her father; coaxing
and cajoling him; and brought him to the kiosk。

〃Do you suppose; my dear little papa; that our /Review/ is ever read
abroad?〃

〃It is but just started〃

〃Well; I will wager that it is。〃

〃It is hardly possible。〃

〃Just go and find out; and note the names of any subscribers out of
France。〃

Two hours later Monsieur de Watteville said to his daughter:

〃I was right; there is not one foreign subscriber as yet。 They hope to
get some at Neufchatel; at Berne; and at Geneva。 One copy; is in fact;
sent to Italy; but it is not paid forto a Milanese lady at her
country house at Belgirate; on Lago Maggiore。

〃What is her name?〃

〃The Duchesse d'Argaiolo。〃

〃Do you know her; papa?〃

〃I have heard about her。 She was by birth a Princess Soderini; a
Florentine; a very great lady; and quite as rich as her husband; who
has one of the largest fortunes in Lombardy。 Their villa on the Lago
Maggiore is one of the sights of Italy。〃

Two days after; Mariette placed the following letter in Mademoiselle
de Watteville's hand:

  Albert Savaron to Leopold Hannequin。

  〃Yes; 'tis so; my dear friend; I am at Besancon; while you thought
  I was traveling。 I would not tell you anything till success should
  begin; and now it is dawning。 Yes; my dear Leopold; after so many
  abortive undertakings; over which I have shed the best of my
  blood; have wasted so many efforts; spent so much courage; I have
  made up my mind to do as you have doneto start on a beaten path;
  on the highroad; as the longest but the safest。 I can see you jump
  with surprise in your lawyer's chair!

  〃But do not suppose that anything is changed in my personal life;
  of which you alone in the world know the secret; and that under
  the reservations /she/ insists on。 I did not tell you; my friend;
  but I was horribly weary of Paris。 The outcome of the first
  enterprise; on which I had founded all my hopes; and which came to
  a bad end in consequence of the utter rascality of my two
  partners; who combined to cheat and fleece meme; though
  everything was done by my energymade me give up the pursuit of a
  fortune after the loss of three years of my life。 One of these
  years was spent in the law courts; and perhaps I should have come
  worse out of the scrape if I had not been made to study law when I
  was twenty。

  〃I made up my mind to go into politics solely; to the end that I
  may some day find my name on a list for promotion to the Senate
  under the title of Comte Albert Savaron de Savarus; and so revive
  in France a good name now extinct in Belgiumthough indeed I am
  neither legitimate nor legitimized。〃

〃Ah! I knew it! He is of noble birth!〃 exclaimed Rosalie; dropping the
letter。

  〃You know how conscientiously I studied; how faithful and useful I
  was as an obscure journalist; and how excellent a secretary to the
  statesman who; on his part; was true to me in 1829。 Flung to the
  depths once more by the revolution of July just when my name was
  becoming known; at the very moment when; as Master of Appeals; I
  was about to find my place as a necessary wheel in the political
  machine; I committed the blunder of remaining faithful to the
  fallen; and fighting for them; without them。 Oh! why was I but
  three…and…thirty; and why did I not apply to you to make me
  eligible? I concealed from you all my devotedness and my dangers。
  What would you have? I was full of faith。 We should not have
  agreed。

  〃Ten months ago; when you saw me so gay and contented; writing my
  political articles; I was in despair; I foresaw my fate; at the
  age of thirty…seven; with two thousand francs for my whole
  fortune; without the smallest fame; just having failed in a noble
  undertaking; the founding; namely; of a daily paper answering only
  to a need of the future instead of appealing to the passions of
  the moment。 I did not know which way to turn; and I felt my own
  value! I wandered about; gloomy and hurt; through the lonely
  places of ParisParis which had slipped through my fingers
  thinking of my crushed ambitions; but never giving them up。 Oh;
  what frantic letters I wrote at that time to /her/; my second
  conscience; my other self! Sometimes I would say to myself; 'Why
  did I sketch so vast a programme of life? Why demand everything?
  Why not wait for happiness while devoting myself to some
  mechanical employment。'

  〃I then looked about me for some modest appointment by which I
  might live。 I was about to get the editorship of a paper under a
  manager who did not know much about it; a man of wealth and
  ambition; when I took fright。 'Would /she/ ever accept as her
  husband a man who had stooped so low?' I wondered。

  〃This reflection made me two…and…twenty again。 But; oh; my dear
  Leopold; how the soul is worn by these perplexities! What must not
  the caged eagles suffer; and imprisoned lions!They suffer what
  Napoleon suffered; not at Saint Helena; but on the Quay of the
  Tuileries; on the 10th of August; when he saw Louis XVI。 defending
  himself so badly while he could have quelled the insurrection; as
  he actually did; on the same spot; a little later; in Vendemiaire。
  Well; my life has been a torment of that kind; extending over four
  years。 How many a speech to the Chamber have I not delivered in
  the deserted alleys of the Bois de Boulogne! These wasted
  harangues have at any rate sharpened my tongue and accustomed my
  mind to formulate its ideas in words。 And while I was undergoing
  this secret torture; you were getting married; you had paid for
  your business; you were made law…clerk to the Maire of your
  district; after gaining a cross for a wound at Saint…Merri。

  〃Now; listen。 When I was a small boy and tortured cock…chafers;
  the poor insects had one form of struggle which used almost to put
  me in a fever。 It was when I saw them making repeated efforts to
  fly but without getting away; though they could spread their
  wings。 We used to say; 'They are marking time。' Now was this
  sympathy? Was it a vision of my own future?Oh! to spread my
  wings and yet be unable to fly

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