the crime of sylvestre bonnard-第14章

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It　was　very　quickly　said；　but　even　while　hearing　it　I　had　time　to　perceive　that　my　fairy　was　a　statuette　in　coloured　wax；　modeled　with　much　taste　and　spirit　by　some　novice　hand。　　But　the　phenomenon；　even　thus　reduced　by　a　rational　explanation；　did　not　cease　to　excite　my　surprise。　　How；　and　by　whom；　had　the　Lady　of　the　Cosmography　been　enabled　to　assume　plastic　existence？　　That　was　what　remained　for　me　to　learn。

Turning　towards　Madame　de　Gabry；　I　perceived　that　she　was　not　alone。　A　young　girl　dressed　in　black　was　standing　beside　her。　　She　had　large　intelligent　eyes；　of　a　grey　as　sweet　as　that　of　the　sky　of　the　Isle　of　France；　and　at　once　artless　and　characteristic　in　their　expression。　　At　the　extremities　of　her　rather　thin　arms　were　fidgeting　uneasily　two　slender　hands；　supple　but　slightly　red；　as　it　becomes　the　hands　of　young　girls　to　be。　　Sheathed　in　her　closely　fitting　merino　robe；　she　had　the　slim　grace　of　a　young　tree；　and　her　large　mouth　bespoke　frankness。　　I　could　not　describe　how　much　the　child　pleased　me　at　first　sight！　　She　was　not　beautiful；　but　the　three　dimples　of　her　cheeks　and　chin　seemed　to　laugh；　and　her　whole　person；　which　revealed　the　awkwardness　of　innocence；　had　something　in　it　indescribably　good　and　sincere。

My　gaze　alternated　from　the　statuette　to　the　young　girl；　and　I　saw　her　blushso　frankly　and　fully！the　crimson　passing　over　her　face　as　by　waves。

〃Well；〃　said　my　hostess；　who　had　become　sufficiently　accustomed　to　my　distracted　moods　to　put　the　same　question　to　me　twice；　〃is　that　the　very　same　lady　who　came　in　to　see　you　through　the　window　that　you　left　open？　　She　was　very　saucy；　but　then　you　were　quite　imprudent！　　Anyhow；　do　you　recognise　her？〃

〃It　is　her　very　self；〃　I　replied；　〃I　see　her　now　on　that　pier…table　precisely　as　I　saw　her　on　the　table　in　the　library。〃

〃Then；　if　that　be　so；〃　replied　Madame　de　Gabry；　〃you　have　to　blame　for　it；　in　the　first　place；　yourself；　as　a　man　who；　although　devoid　of　all　imagination；　to　use　your　own　words；　knew　how　to　depict　your　dream　in　such　vivid　colours；　in　the　second　place；　me；　who　was　able　to　remember　and　repeat　faithfully　all　your　dream；　and　lastly；　Mademoiselle　Jeanne；　whom　I　now　introduce　to　you；　for　she　herself　modeled　that　wax　figure　precisely　according　to　my　instructions。〃

Madame　de　Gabry　had　taken　the　young　girl's　hand　as　she　spoke；　but　the　latter　had　suddenly　broken　away　from　her；　and　was　already　running　through　the　park　with　the　speed　of　a　bird。

〃Little　crazy　creature！〃　Madame　de　Gabry　cried　after　her。　　〃How　can　one　be　so　shy？　　Come　back　here　to　be　scolded　and　kissed！〃

But　it　was　all　of　no　avail；　the　frightened　child　disappeared　among　the　shrubbery。　　Madame　de　Gabry　seated　herself　in　the　only　chair　remaining　in　the　dilapidated　parlour。

〃I　should　be　much　surprised；〃　she　said；　〃If　my　husband　had　not　already　spoken　to　you　of　Jeanne。　　She　is　a　sweet　child；　and　we　both　lover　her　very　much。　　Tell　me　the　plain　truth；　what　do　you　think　of　her　statuette？〃

I　replied　that　the　work　was　full　of　good　taste　and　spirit；　but　that　it　showed　some　want　of　study　and　practice　on　the　author's　part；　otherwise　I　had　been　extremely　touched　to　think　that　those　young　fingers　should　have　thus　embroidered　an　old　man's　rough　sketch　of　fancy；　and　given　form　so　brilliantly　to　the　dreams　of　a　dotard　like　myself。

〃The　reason　I　ask　your　opinion；〃　replied　Madame　de　Gabry；　seriously；　〃is　that　Jeanne　is　a　poor　orphan。　　Do　you　think　she　could　earn　her　living　by　modelling　statuettes　like　this　one？〃

〃As　for　that；　no！〃　I　replied；　〃and　I　think　there　is　no　reason　to　regret　the　fact。　　You　say　the　girl　is　affectionate　and　sensitive；　I　can　well　believe　you；　I　could　believe　it　from　her　face　alone。　　There　are　excitements　in　artist…life　which　impel　generous　hearts　to　act　out　of　all　rule　and　measure。　　This　young　creature　is　made　to　love；　keep　her　for　the　domestic　hearth。　　There　only　is　real　happiness。〃

〃But　she　has　no　dowry！〃　replied　Madame　de　Gabry。

Then；　extending　her　hand　to　me；　she　continued：

〃You　are　our　friend；　I　can　tell　you　everything。　　The　father　of　this　child　was　a　banker；　and　one　of　our　friends。　　He　went　into　a　colossal　speculation；　and　it　ruined　him。　　He　survived　only　a　few　months　after　his　failure；　in　which；　as　Paul　must　have　told　you；　three…fourths　of　my　uncle's　fortune　were　lost；　and　more　than　half　of　our　own。

〃We　had　made　his　acquaintance　at　Manaco；　during　the　winter　we　passed　there　at　my　uncle's　house。　　He　had　an　adventurous　disposition；　but　such　an　engaging　manner！　　He　deceived　himself　before　ever　he　deceived　others。　　After　all；　it　is　in　the　ability　to　deceive　oneself　that　the　greatest　talent　is　shown；　is　it　not？　　Well；　we　were　capturedmy　husband；　my　uncle；　and　I；　and　we　risked　much　more　than　a　reasonable　amount　in　a　very　hazardous　undertaking。　　But；　bah！　as　Paul　says；　since　we　have　no　children　we　need　not　worry　about　it。　　Besides；　we　have　the　satisfaction　of　knowing　that　the　friend　in　whom　we　trusted　was　an　honest　man。。。。　　You　must　know　his　name；　it　was　so　often　in　the　papers　an　on　public　placardsNoel　Alexandre。　　His　wife　was　a　very　sweet　person。　　I　knew　her　only　when　she　was　already　past　her　prime；　with　traces　of　having　once　been　very　pretty；　and　a　taste　for　fashionable　style　and　display　which　seemed　quite　becoming　to　her。　She　was　naturally　fond　of　social　excitement；　but　she　showed　a　great　deal　of　courage　and　dignity　after　the　death　of　her　husband。　　She　died　a　year　after　him；　leaving　Jeanne　alone　in　the　world。〃

〃Clementine！〃　I　cried　out。

And　on　thus　learning　what　I　had　never　imaginedthe　mere　idea　of　which　would　have　set　all　the　forces　of　my　soul　in　revoltupon　hearing　that　Clementine　was　no　longer　in　this　world；　something　like　a　great　silence　came　upon　me；　and　the　feeling　which　flooded　my　whole　being　was　not　a　keen；　strong　pain；　but　a　quiet　and　solemn　sorrow。　　Yet　I　was　conscious　of　some　incomprehensible　sense　of　alleviation；　and　my　thought　rose　suddenly　to　heights　before　unknown。

〃From　wheresoever　thou　art　at　this　moment；　Clementine；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃look　down　upon　this　old　heart　now　indeed　cooled　by　age；　yet　whose　blood　once　boiled　for　thy　sake；　and　say　whether　it　is　not　reanimated　by　the　mere　thought　of　being　able　to　love　all　that　remains　of　thee　on　earth。　　Everything　passes　away　since　thou　thyself　hast　passed　away；　but　Life　is　immortal；　it　is　that　Life　we　must　love　in　its　forms　eternally　renewed。　　All　the　rest　is　child's　play；　and　I　myself；　with　all　my　books；　am　only　like　a　child　playing　with　marbles。　The　purpose　of　lifeit　is　thou；　Clementine；　who　has　revealed　it　to　me！〃。。。

Madame　de　Gabry　aroused　me　from　my　thoughts　by　murmuring；

〃The　child　is　poor。〃

〃The　daughter　of　Clementine　is　poor！〃　　I　exclaimed　aloud；　〃how　fortunate　that　is　so！　　I　would　not　whish　that　any　one　by　myself　should　proved　for　her　and　dower　her！　　No！　the　daughter　of　Clementine　must　not　have　her　dowry　from　any　one　but　me。〃

And；　approaching　Madame　de　Gabry　as　she　rose　from　her　chair；　I　took　her　right　hand；　I　kissed　that　hand；　and　placed　it　on　my　arm；　and　said：

〃You　will　conduct　me　to　the　grave　of　the　widow　of　Noel　Alexandre。〃

And　I　heard　Madame　de　Gabry　asking　me：

〃Why　are　you　crying？〃




Chapter　IV　　The　Little　Saint…George


April　16。


Saint　Drocoveus　and　the　early　abbots　of　Saint…Germain…des…Pres　have　been　occupying　me　for　the　past　forty　years；　but　I　do　not　know　if　I　shall　be　able　to　write　their　history　before　I　go　to　join　them。　　It　is　already　quite　a　long　time　since　I　became　an　old　man。　　One　day　last　year；　on　the　Pont　des　Arts；　one　of　my　fellow　members　at　the　Institute　was　lamenting　before　me　over　the　ennui　of　becoming　old。

〃Still；〃　Saint…Beuve　replied　to　him；　〃it　is　the　only　way　that　has　yet　been　found　of　living　a　long　time。〃

I　have　tried　this　way；　and　I　know　just　what　it　is　worth。　　The　trouble　of　it　is　not　that　one　lasts　too　long；　but　that　one　sees　all　about　him　pass　awaymother；　wife；　friends；　children。　　Nature　makes　and　unmakes　all　these　divine　treasures　with　gloomy　indifference；　and　at　last　we　find　that　we　have　not　loved；　we　have　only　been　embracing　shadows。　　But　how　sweet　some　shadows　are！　　If　ever　creature　glided　like　a　shadow　through　the　life　of　a　man；　it　was　certainly　that　young　girl　whom　I　fell　in　love　with　whenincredible　though　it　now　seemsI　was　myself　a　youth。

A　Christian　sarcophagus　from　the　catacombs　of　Rome　bears　a　formula　of　imprecation；　the　whole　terrible　meaning　of　which　I　only　learned　with　time。　　It　says：　〃Whatsoever　impious　man　violates　this　sepulchre；　may　he　die　the　last　of　his　own　people！〃　　In　my　capacity　of　archaeologist；　I　have　opened　tombs　and　disturbed　ashes　in　order　to　collect　the　shreds　of　apparel；　metal　ornaments；　or　gems　that　were　mingled　with　those　ashes。　　But　I　did　it　only　through　that　scientific　curiosity　which　does　not　exclude　feelings　of　reverence　and　of　piety。　May　that　malediction　graven　by　some　one　of　the　first　followers　of　the　apostles　upon　a　martyr's　tomb　never　fall　upon　me！　　I　ought　not　to　fear　to　survive　my　own　people　so　long　as　there　are　men　in　the　world；　for　there　are　always　some　whom　one　can　love。

But　the　power　of　love　itself　weakens　and　gradually　becomes　lost　with　age；　like　all　the　other　energies　of　man。　　Example　proves　it；　and　it　is　this　which　terrifies　me。　　Am　I　sure　that　I　have　not　myself　already　suffered　this　great　loss？　　I　should　surely　have　felt　it；　but　for　the　happy　meeting　which　has　rejuvenated　me。　　Poets　speak　of　the　Fountain　of　Youth；　it　does　exist；　it　gushes　up　from　the　earth　at　every　step　we　take。　　And　one　passes　by　without　drinking　of　it！

The　young　girl　I　loved；　married　of　her　own　choice　to　a　rival；　passed；　all　grey…haired；　into　the　eternal　rest。　　I　have　found　her　daughter　so　that　my　life；　which　before　seemed　to　me　without　utility；　now　once　more　finds　a　purpose　and　a　reason　for　being。

To…day　I　〃take　the　sun；〃　as　they　say　in　Provence；　I　take　it　on　the　terrace　of　the　Luxembourg；　at　the　foot　of　the　statue　of　Marguerite　de　Navarre。　　It　is　a　spring　sun；　intoxicating　as　young　wine。　　I　sit　and　dream。　　My　thoughts　escape　from　my　head　like　the　foam　from　a　bottle　of　beer。　　They　are　light；　and　their　fizzing　amuses　me。　　I　dream；　such　a　pastime　is　certainly　permissible　to　an　old　fellow　who　has　published　thirty　volumes　of　texts；　and　contributed　to　the　'Journal　des　Savants'　for　　twenty…six　years。　　I　have　the　satisfaction　of　feeling　that　I　performed　my　task　as　well　as　it　was　possible　for　me　to　do；　and　that　I　utilised　to　their　fullest　extent　those　mediocre　faculties　with　which　Nature　endowed　me。　　My　efforts　were　not　all　in　vain；　and　I　have　contributed；　in　my　own　modest　way；　to　that　renaissance　of　historical　labours　which　will　remain　the　honour　of　this　restless　century。　　I　shall　certainly　be　counted　among　those　ten　or　twelve　who　revealed　to　France　her　own　literary　antiquities。　　My　publication　of　the　poetical　works　of　Gautier　de　Coincy　inaugurated　a　judicious　system　and　fixed　a　date。　　It　is　in　the　austere　calm　of　old　age　that　I　decree　to　myself　this　deserved　credit；　and　God；　who　sees　my　heart；　knows　whether　pride　or　vanity　have　aught　to　do　with　this　self…award　of　justice。

But　I　am　tired；　my　eyes　are　dim；　my　hand　trembles；　and　I　see　an　image　of　myself　in　those　old　me　of　Homer；　whose　weakness　excluded　them　from　the　battle；　and　who；　seated　upon　the　ramparts；　lifted　up　their　voices　like　cri