the nabob-第34章
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d loudly and repeatedly； 〃Monsieur le Marquis de Bois l'Hery。〃
No； look you； the things that are to be learned at a servants' party； what a curious spectacle is presented by the fashionable world of Paris； seen thus from below； from the basements； you need to go to one before you can realize。 Here； for instance； is a little fragment of conversation which； happening to find myself between M。 Francis and M。 Louis； I overheard about the worthy sire de Monpavon。
〃You are making a mistake； Francis。 You are in funds just now。 You ought to take advantage of the occasion to restore that money to the Treasury。〃
〃What will you have？〃 replied M。 Francis with a despondent air。 〃Play is devouring us。〃
〃Yes； I know it well。 But take care。 We shall not always be there。 We may die； fall from power。 Then you will be asked for accounts by the people down yonder。 And it will be a terrible business。〃
I had often heard whispered the story of a forced loan of two hundred thousand francs which the marquis was reputed to have secured from the State at the time when he was Receiver…General； but the testimony of his /valet de chambre/ was worse than all。 Ah！ if masters had any suspicion of how much servants know； of all the stories that are told in the servants' hall； if they could see their names dragged among the sweepings of the house and the refuse of the kitchen； they would never again dare to say even 〃shut the door〃 or 〃harness the horses。〃 Why； for instance； take Dr。 Jenkins； with the most valuable practice in Paris； ten years of life in common with a magnificent woman； who is sought after everywhere； it is in vain that he has done everything to dissimulate his position； announced his marriage in the newspapers after the English fashion； admitted to his house only foreign servants knowing hardly three words of French。 In those three words； seasoned with vulgar oaths and blows of his fist on the table； his coachman Joey； who hates him； told us his whole history during supper。
〃She is going to kick the bucket； his Irish wife； the real one。 Remains to be seen now whether he will marry the other。 Forty…five； she is； Mrs。 Maranne； and not a shilling。 You should see how afraid she is of being left in the lurch。 Whether he marries her or whether he does not marry herkss； ksswe shall have a good laugh。〃
And the more drink he was given； the more he told us about her； speaking of his unfortunate mistress as though she were the lowest of the low。 For my own part； I confess that she interested me； this false Mme。 Jenkins； who goes about weeping in every corner； implores her lover as though he were the executioner； and runs the chance of being thrown overboard altogether； when all society believes her to be married； respectable； and established in life。 The others only laughed over the story； the women especially。 Dame！ it is amusing when one is in service to see that the ladies of the upper ten have their troubles also and torments that keep them awake at night。
Our festal board at this stage presented the most lively aspect； a circle of gay faces stretched towards this Irishman whose story was adjudged to have won the prize。 The fact excited envy； the rest sought and hunted through their memories for whatever they might hold in the way of old scandals； adventures of deceived husbands； of those intimate privacies which are emptied on the kitchen…table along with the scraps from the plates and the dregs from the bottles。 The champagne was beginning to claim its own among the guests。 Joey wanted to dance a jig on the table…cloth。 The ladies； at the least word that was a little gay； threw themselves back with the piercing laughter of people who are being tickled； allowing their embroidered skirts to trail beneath the table； loaded with the remains of the food and covered with spilt grease。 M。 Louis had discreetly retired。 Glasses were filled up before they had been emptied； one of the housekeepers dipped a handkerchief in hers； filled with water； and bathed her forehead with it； because her head was swimming； she said。 It was time that the festivity should end； and； in fact； an electric bell ringing in the corridor warned us that the footman； on duty at the theatre； had come to summon the coachmen。 Thereupon Monpavon proposed the health of the master of the house； thanking him for his little party。 M。 Noel announced that he proposed to give another at Saint…Romans； in honour of the visit of the Bey； to which most of those present would probably be invited。 And I was about to rise in my turn； being sufficiently accustomed to social banquets to know that on such an occasion the oldest man present is expected to propose the health of the ladies； when the door opened abruptly； and a tall footman； bespattered with mud； a dripping umbrella in his hand； perspiring； out of breath； cried to us； without respect for the company：
〃But come on then； you set of idiots！ What are you sticking here for？ Don't you know it is over？〃
THE FESTIVITIES IN HONOUR OF THE BEY
In the regions of the Midi； of bygone civilization； historical castles still standing are rare。 Only at long intervals on the hillsides some old abbey lifts its tottering and dismembered front； perforated by holes that once were windows； whose empty spaces look now only to the sky。 A monument of dust； burnt up by the sun； dating from the time of the Crusades or of the Courts of Love； without a trace of man among its stones； where even the ivy no longer clings nor the acanthus； but which the dried lavenders and the ferns embalm。 In the midst of all those ruins the castle of Saint…Romans is an illustrious exception。 If you have travelled in the Midi you have seen it； and you are to see it again now。 It is between Valence and Montelimart； on a site just where the railway runs alongside the Rhone； at the foot of the rich slopes of Baume； Raucoule； and Mercurol； where the far…famed vineyards of l'Ermitage； spreading out for five miles in close…planted rows of vines； which seem to grow as one looks； roll down almost into the river； which is there as green and full of islands as the Rhine at Basle； but under a sun the Rhine has never known。 Saint…Romans is opposite on the other side of the river； and； in spite of the brevity of the vision； the headlong rush of the train； which seems trying to throw itself madly into the Rhone at each turning； the castle is so large； so well situated on the neighbouring hill； that it seems to follow the crazy race of the train； and stamps on your mind forever the memory of its terraces； its balustrades； its Italian architecture； two low stories surmounted by a colonnaded gallery and flanked by two slate…roofed pavilions dominating the great slopes where the water of the cascades rebounds； the network of gravel walks； the perspective of long hedges； terminated by some white statue which stands out against the blue sky as on the luminous ground of a stained…glass window。 Quite at the top； in the middle of the vast lawns whose green turf shines ironically under the scorching sun； a gigantic cedar uplifts its crested foliage； enveloped in black and floating shadowsan exotic silhouette； upright before this former dwelling of some Louis XIV farmer of revenue； which makes one think of a great negro carrying the sunshade of a gentleman of the court。
From Valence to Marseilles； throughout all the Valley of the Rhone； Saint…Romans of Bellaignes is famous as an enchanted palace； and； indeed； in that country burnt up by the fiery wind； this oasis of greenness and beautiful rushing water is a true fairy…land。
〃When I am rich； mamma；〃 Jansoulet used to say； as quite a small boy； to his mother whom he adored； 〃I shall give you Saint…Romans of Bellaignes。〃 And as the life of the man seemed the fulfilment of a story from the Arabian Nights； as all his wishes came true； even the most disproportionate； as his maddest chimeras came to lie down before him； to lick his hands like familiar and obedient spaniels； he had bought Saint…Romans to offer it； newly furnished and grandiosely restored； to his mother。 Although it was ten years since then； the dear old woman was not yet used to her splendid establishment。 〃It is the palace of Queen Jeanne that you have given me； my dear Bernard；〃 she wrote to her son。 〃I shall never live there。〃 She never did live there； as a matter of fact； having stayed at the steward's house； an isolated building of modern construction； situated quite at the other end of the grounds； so as to overlook the outbuildings and the farm； the sheepfolds and the oil…mills； with their rural horizon of stacks； olive…trees and vines； extending over the plain as far as one could see。 In the great castle she would have imagined herself a prisoner in one of those enchanted dwellings where sleep seizes you in the midst of your happiness and does not let you go for a hundred years。 Here； at least； the peasant…womanwho had never been able to accustom herself to this colossal fortune； come too late； from too far； and like a thunder…clapfelt herself linked to reality by the coming and going of the work…people； the letting…out and taking…in of the cattle； their slow movement to the drinking pond； all that pastoral life which woke her by the familiar call of the cocks and the sharp cries of the peacocks； and brought her down the corkscrew staircase of the pavilion before dawn。 She looked upon herself only as the trustee of this magnificent estate； which she was taking care of for her son； and wished to give back to him in perfect condition on the day when； rich enough and tired of living with the Turks； he would come； according to his promise； to live with her beneath the shade of Saint…Romans。
Then； too； what universal and indefatigable supervision！ Through the mists of early morning the farm…servants heard her rough and husky voice： 〃Olivier； Peyrol； Audibert。 Come on！ It is four o'clock。〃 Then she would hasten to the immense kitchen； where the maids； heavy with sleep； were heating the porridge over the crackling； new…lit fire。 They gave her a little dish of red Marseilles…ware full of boiled chestnutsfrugal breakfast of bygone times； which nothing would have induced her to change。 At once she was off； hurrying with great strides； her large silver keyring at her belt； whence jingled all her keys； her plate in her hand； balanced by the distaff which she held； in working order； under her arm； for she spun all day long； and did not stop even to eat her chestnuts。 On the way； a glance at the stables； still dark； where the animals were moving duly； at the stifling pens with their rows of impatient and outstretched muzzles； and the first glimmers of light creeping over the layers of stones that supported the embankment of the park； lit up the figure of the old woman； running in the dew； with the lightness of a girl； despite her seventy yearsverifying exactly each morning all the wealth of the domain； anxious to make sure that the night had not taken away the statues and the vases； uprooted the hundred…year…old quincunx； dried up the springs which filtered into their resounding basins。 Then the full sunlight of midday； humming and vibrating； showed still； on the sand of an alley； against the white wall of a terrace； the long figure of the old woman； elegant and straight as her spindle；
