the two brothers-第18章

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〃I　am　ruinedunless　he　has　had　the　delicacy　to　take　the　copy；〃　cried

the　painter；　instantly　suspecting　the　theft。　He　ran　rapidly　up　the

three　flights　and　rushed　into　his　studio。　〃God　be　praised！〃　he

ejaculated。　〃He　is；　what　he　always　has　been；　a　vile　scoundrel。〃



Agathe；　who　had　followed　Joseph；　did　not　understand　what　he　was

saying；　but　when　her　son　explained　what　had　happened；　she　stood　still；

with　the　tears　in　her　eyes。



〃Have　I　but　one　son？〃　she　said　in　a　broken　voice。



〃We　have　never　yet　degraded　him　to　the　eyes　of　strangers；〃　said

Joseph；　〃but　we　must　now　warn　the　concierge。　In　future　we　shall　have

to　keep　the　keys　ourselves。　I'll　finish　his　blackguard　face　from

memory；　there's　not　much　to　do　to　it。〃



〃Leave　it　as　it　is；　it　will　pain　me　too　much　ever　to　look　at　it；〃

answered　the　mother；　heart…stricken　and　stupefied　at　such　wickedness。



Philippe　had　been　told　how　the　money　for　this　copy　was　to　be　expended；

moreover　he　knew　the　abyss　into　which　he　would　plunge　his　brother

through　the　loss　of　the　Rubens；　but　nothing　restrained　him。　After　this

last　crime　Agathe　never　mentioned　him；　her　face　acquired　an　expression

of　cold　and　concentrated　and　bitter　despair；　one　thought　took

possession　of　her　mind。



〃Some　day；〃　she　said　to　herself；　〃we　shall　hear　of　a　Bridau　in　the

police　courts。〃



Two　months　later；　as　Agathe　was　about　to　start　for　her　office；　an　old

officer；　who　announced　himself　as　a　friend　of　Philippe　on　urgent

business；　called　on　Madame　Bridau；　who　happened　to　be　in　Joseph's

studio。



When　Giroudeau　gave　his　name；　mother　and　son　trembled；　and　none　the

less　because　the　ex…dragoon　had　the　face　of　a　tough　old　sailor　of　the

worst　type。　His　fishy　gray　eyes；　his　piebald　moustache；　the　remains　of

his　shaggy　hair　fringing　a　skull　that　was　the　color　of　fresh　butter；

all　gave　an　indescribably　debauched　and　libidinous　expression　to　his

appearance。　He　wore　an　old　iron…gray　overcoat　decorated　with　the　red

ribbon　of　an　officer　of　the　Legion　of　honor；　which　met　with　difficulty

over　a　gastronomic　stomach　in　keeping　with　a　mouth　that　stretched　from

ear　to　ear；　and　a　pair　of　powerful　shoulders。　The　torso　was　supported

by　a　spindling　pair　of　legs；　while　the　rubicund　tints　on　the　cheek…

bones　bore　testimony　to　a　rollicking　life。　The　lower　part　of　the

cheeks；　which　were　deeply　wrinkled；　overhung　a　coat…collar　of　velvet

the　worse　for　wear。　Among　other　adornments；　the　ex…dragoon　wore

enormous　gold　rings　in　his　ears。



〃What　a　'noceur'！〃　thought　Joseph；　using　a　popular　expression；　meaning

a　〃loose　fish；〃　which　had　lately　passed　into　the　ateliers。



〃Madame；〃　said　Finot's　uncle　and　cashier；　〃your　son　is　in　so

unfortunate　a　position　that　his　friends　find　it　absolutely　necessary

to　ask　you　to　share　the　somewhat　heavy　expense　which　he　is　to　them。　He

can　no　longer　do　his　work　at　the　office；　and　Mademoiselle　Florentine；

of　the　Porte…Saint…Martin；　has　taken　him　to　lodge　with　her；　in　a

miserable　attic　in　the　rue　de　Vendome。　Philippe　is　dying；　and　if　you

and　his　brother　are　not　able　to　pay　for　the　doctor　and　medicines；　we

shall　be　obliged；　for　the　sake　of　curing　him；　to　have　him　taken　to　the

hospital　of　the　Capuchins。　For　three　hundred　francs　we　would　keep　him

where　he　is。　But　he　must　have　a　nurse；　for　at　night；　when　Mademoiselle

Florentine　is　at　the　theatre；　he　persists　in　going　out；　and　takes

things　that　are　irritating　and　injurious　to　his　malady　and　its

treatment。　As　we　are　fond　of　him；　this　makes　us　really　very　unhappy。

The　poor　fellow　has　pledged　the　pension　of　his　cross　for　the　next

three　years；　he　is　temporarily　displaced　from　his　office；　and　he　has

literally　nothing。　He　will　kill　himself；　madame；　unless　we　can　put　him

into　the　private　asylum　of　Doctor　Dubois。　It　is　a　decent　hospital；

where　they　will　take　him　for　ten　francs　a　day。　Florentine　and　I　will

pay　half；　if　you　will　pay　the　rest；　it　won't　be　for　more　than　two

months。〃



〃Monsieur；　it　is　difficult　for　a　mother　not　to　be　eternally　grateful

to　you　for　your　kindness　to　her　son；〃　replied　Agathe；　〃but　this　son　is

banished　from　my　heart；　and　as　for　money；　I　have　none。　Not　to　be　a

burden　on　my　son　whom　you　see　here；　who　works　day　and　night　and

deserves　all　the　love　his　mother　can　give　him；　I　am　the　assistant　in　a

lottery…officeat　my　age！〃



〃And　you；　young　man；〃　said　the　old　dragoon　to　Joseph；　〃can't　you　do　as

much　for　your　brother　as　a　poor　dancer　at　the　Porte…Saint…Martin　and

an　old　soldier？〃



〃Look　here！〃　said　Joseph；　out　of　patience；　〃do　you　want　me　to　tell　you

in　artist　language　what　I　think　of　your　visit？　Well；　you　have　come　to

swindle　us　on　false　pretences。〃



〃To…morrow　your　brother　shall　go　to　the　hospital。〃



〃And　he　will　do　very　well　there；〃　answered　Joseph。　〃If　I　were　in　like

case；　I　should　go　there　too。〃



Giroudeau　withdrew；　much　disappointed；　and　also　really　mortified　at

being　obliged　to　send　to　a　hospital　a　man　who　had　carried　the

Emperor's　orders　at　the　battle　of　Montereau。　Three　months　later；　at

the　end　of　July；　as　Agathe　one　morning　was　crossing　the　Pont　Neuf　to

avoid　paying　a　sou　at　the　Pont　des　Arts；　she　saw；　coming　along　by　the

shops　of　the　Quai　de　l'Ecole；　a　man　bearing　all　the　signs　of　second…

class　poverty；　who；　she　thought；　resembled　Philippe。　In　Paris；　there

are　three　distinct　classes　of　poverty。　First；　the　poverty　of　the　man

who　preserves　appearances；　and　to　whom　a　future　still　belongs；　this　is

the　poverty　of　young　men；　artists；　men　of　the　world；　momentarily

unfortunate。　The　outward　signs　of　their　distress　are　not　visible；

except　under　the　microscope　of　a　close　observer。　These　persons　are　the

equestrian　order　of　poverty；　they　continue　to　drive　about　in

cabriolets。　In　the　second　order　we　find　old　men　who　have　become

indifferent　to　everything；　and；　in　June；　put　the　cross　of　the　Legion

of　honor　on　alpaca　overcoats；　that　is　the　poverty　of　small　incomes；

of　old　clerks；　who　live　at　Sainte…Perine　and　care　no　longer　about

their　outward　man。　Then　comes；　in　the　third　place；　poverty　in　rags；

the　poverty　of　the　people；　the　poverty　that　is　poetic；　which　Callot；

Hogarth；　Murillo；　Charlet；　Raffet；　Gavarni；　Meissonier；　Art　itself

adores　and　cultivates；　especially　during　the　carnival。　The　man　in　whom

poor　Agathe　thought　she　recognized　her　son　was　astride　the　last　two

classes　of　poverty。　She　saw　the　ragged　neck…cloth；　the　scurfy　hat；　the

broken　and　patched　boots；　the　threadbare　coat；　whose　buttons　had　shed

their　mould；　leaving　the　empty　shrivelled　pod　dangling　in　congruity

with　the　torn　pockets　and　the　dirty　collar。　Scraps　of　flue　were　in　the

creases　of　the　coat；　which　showed　plainly　the　dust　that　filled　it。　The

man　drew　from　the　pockets　of　his　seam…rent　iron…gray　trousers　a　pair

of　hands　as　black　as　those　of　a　mechanic。　A　knitted　woollen　waistcoat；

discolored　by　use；　showed　below　the　sleeves　of　his　coat；　and　above　the

trousers；　and　no　doubt　served　instead　of　a　shirt。　Philippe　wore　a

green　silk　shade　with　a　wire　edge　over　his　eyes；　his　head；　which　was

nearly　bald；　the　tints　of　his　skin；　and　his　sunken　face　too　plainly

revealed　that　he　was　just　leaving　the　terrible　Hopital　du　Midi。　His

blue　overcoat；　whitened　at　the　seams；　was　still　decorated　with　the

ribbon　of　his　cross；　and　the　passers…by　looked　at　the　hero；　doubtless

some　victim　of　the　government；　with　curiosity　and　commiseration；　the

rosette　attracted　notice；　and　the　fiercest　〃ultra〃　was　jealous　for　the

honor　of　the　Legion。　In　those　days；　however　much　the　government

endeavored　to　bring　the　Order　into　disrepute　by　bestowing　its　cross

right　and　left；　there　were　not　fifty…three　thousand　persons　decorated。



Agathe　trembled　through　her　whole　being。　If　it　were　impossible　to　love

this　son　any　longer；　she　could　still　suffer　for　him。　Quivering　with

this　last　expression　of　motherhood；　she　wept　as　she　saw　the　brilliant

staff　officer　of　the　Emperor　turn　to　enter　tobacconist's　and　pause　on

the　threshold；　he　had　felt　in　his　pocket　and　found　nothing。　Agathe

left　the　bridge；　crossed　the　quai　rapidly；　took　out　her　purse；　thrust

it　into　Philippe's　hand；　and　fled　away　as　if　she　had　committed　a

crime。　After　that；　she　ate　nothing　for　two　days；　before　her　was　the

horrible　vision　of　her　son　dying　of　hunger　in　the　streets　of　Paris。



〃When　he　has　spent　all　the　money　in　my　purse；　who　will　give　him　any？〃

she　thought。　〃Giroudeau　did　not　deceive　us；　Philippe　is　just　out　of

that　hospital。〃



She　no　longer　saw　the　assassin　of　her　poor　aunt；　the　scourge　of　the

family；　the　domestic　thief；　the　gambler；　the　drunkard；　the　low　liver

of　a　bad　life；　she　saw　only　the　man　recovering　from　illness；　yet

doomed　to　die　of　starvation；　the　smoker　deprived　of　his　tobacco。　At

forty…seven　years　of　age　she　grew　to　look　like　a　woman　of　seventy。　Her

eyes　were　dimmed　with　tears　and　prayers。　Yet　it　was　not　the　last　grief

this　son　was　to　bring　upon　her；　her　worst　apprehensions　were　destined

to　be　realized。　A　conspiracy　of　officers　was　discovered　at　the　heart

of　the　army；　and　articles　from　the　〃Moniteur〃　giving　details　of　the

arrests　were　hawked　about　the　streets。



In　the　depths　of　her　cage　in　the　lottery…office　of　the　rue　Vivienne；

Agathe　heard　the　name　of　Philippe　Bridau。　She　fainted；　and　the

manager；　understanding　her　trouble　and　the　necessity　of　taking　certain

steps；　gave　her　leave　of　absence　for　two　weeks。



〃Ah！　my　friend；〃　she　said　to　Joseph；　as　she　went　to　bed　that　night；

〃it　is　our　severity　which　drove　him　to　it。〃



〃I'll　go　and　see　Desroches；〃　answered　Joseph。



While　the　artist　was　confiding　his　brother's　affairs　to　the　younger

Desroches；who　by　this　time　had　the　reputation　of　being　one　of　the

keenest　and　most　astute　lawyers　in　Paris；　and　who；　moreover；　did

sundry　services　for　personages　of　distinction；　among　others　for　des

Lupeaulx；　then　secretary　of　a　ministry；Giroudeau　called　upon　the

widow。　This　time；　Agathe　believed　him。



〃Madame；〃　he　said；　〃if　you　can　produce　twelve　thousand　francs　your　son

will　be　set　at　liberty　for　want　of　proof。　It　is　necessary　to　buy　the

silence　of　two　witnesses。〃



〃I　will　get　the　money；〃　said　the　poor　mother；　without　knowing　how　or

where。



Inspired　by　this　danger；　she　wrote　to　her　godmother；　old　Madame

Hochon；　begging　her　to　ask　Jean…Jacques　Rouget　to　send　her　the　twelve

thousand　francs　and　save　his　nephew　Philippe。　If　Rouget　refused；　she

entreated　Madame　Hochon　to　lend　them　to　her；　promising　to　return　them

in　two　years。　By　return　of　courier；　she　received　the　following

letter：



　　My　dear　girl：　Though　your　brother　has　an　income　of　not　less　than

　　forty　thousand　francs　a　year；　without　counting　the　sums　he　has

　　laid　by　for　the　last　seventeen　years；　and　which　Monsieur　Hochon

　　estimates　at　more　than　six　hundred　thousand　francs；　he　will　not

　　give　one　penny　to　nephews　whom　he　has　never　seen。　As　for　me；　you

　　know　I　cannot　dispose　of　a　farthing　while　my　husband　lives。　Hochon

　　is　the　greatest　miser　in　Issoudun