modeste mignon-第22章

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〃Moreover；　mademoiselle；　you　have　not　put　on　your　corset；　a　cold　in

the　head　wouldn't　oblige　you　to　disfigure　your　waist　and　wear　half　a

dozen　petticoats；　nor　hide　your　hands　in　these　old　gloves；　and　your

pretty　feet　in　those　hideous　shoes；　nor　dress　yourself　like　a　beggar…

woman；　nor〃



〃That's　enough；〃　she　said。　〃How　am　I　to　be　certain　that　you　will　obey

me？〃



〃My　master　is　obliged　to　go　to　Sainte…Adresse。　He　does　not　like　it；

but　he　is　so　truly　good　he　won't　deprive　me　of　my　Sunday；　I　will　offer

to　go　for　him。〃



〃Go；　and　I　will　trust　you。〃



〃You　are　sure　I　can　do　nothing　for　you　in　Havre？〃



〃Nothing。　Hear　me；　mysterious　dwarf；look；〃　she　continued；　pointing

to　the　cloudless　sky；　〃can　you　see　a　single　trace　of　that　bird　that

flew　by　just　now？　No；　well　then；　my　actions　are　pure　as　the　air　is

pure；　and　leave　no　stain　behind　them。　You　may　reassure　Dumay　and　the

Latournelles；　and　my　mother。　That　hand；〃　she　said；　holding　up　a　pretty

delicate　hand；　with　the　points　of　the　rosy　fingers；　through　which　the

light　shone；　slightly　turning　back；　〃will　never　be　given；　it　will

never　even　be　kissed　by　what　people　call　a　lover　until　my　father　has

returned。〃



〃Why　don't　you　want　me　in　the　church　to…day？〃



〃Do　you　venture　to　question　me　after　all　I　have　done　you　the　honor　to

say；　and　to　ask　of　you？〃



Butscha　bowed　without　another　word；　and　departed　to　find　his　master；

in　all　the　rapture　of　being　taken　into　the　service　of　his　goddess。



Half　an　hour　later；　Monsieur　and　Madame　Latournelle　came　to　fetch

Modeste；　who　complained　of　a　horrible　toothache。



〃I　really　have　not　had　the　courage　to　dress　myself；〃　she　said。



〃Well　then；〃　replied　the　worthy　chaperone；　〃stay　at　home。〃



〃Oh；　no！〃　said　Modeste。　〃I　would　rather　not。　I　have　bundled　myself　up；

and　I　don't　think　it　will　do　me　any　harm　to　go　out。〃



And　Mademoiselle　Mignon　marched　off　beside　Latournelle；　refusing　to

take　his　arm　lest　she　should　be　questioned　about　the　outward　trembling

which　betrayed　her　inward　agitation　at　the　thought　of　at　last　seeing

her　great　poet。　One　look；　the　first；was　it　not　about　to　decide　her

fate？







CHAPTER　XIII



A　FULL…LENGTH　PORTRAIT　OF　MONSIEUR　DE　LA　BRIERE



Is　there　in　the　life　of　man　a　more　delightful　moment　than　that　of　a

first　rendezvous？　Are　the　sensations　then　hidden　at　the　bottom　of　our

hearts　and　finding　their　first　expression　ever　renewed？　Can　we　feel

again　the　nameless　pleasures　that　we　felt　when；　like　Ernest　de　La

Briere；　we　looked　up　our　sharpest　razors；　our　finest　shirt；　an

irreproachable　collar；　and　our　best　clothes？　We　deify　the　garments

associated　with　that　all…supreme　moment。　We　weave　within　us　poetic

fancies　quite　equal　to　those　of　the　woman；　and　the　day　when　either

party　guesses　them　they　take　wings　to　themselves　and　fly　away。　Are　not

such　things　like　the　flower　of　wild　fruits；　bitter…sweet；　grown　in　the

heart　of　a　forest；　the　joy　of　the　scant　sun…rays；　the　joy；　as　Canalis

says　in　the　〃Maiden's　Song；〃　of　the　plant　itself　whose　eyes　unclosing

see　its　own　image　within　its　breast？



Such　emotions；　now　taking　place　in　La　Briere；　tend　to　show　that；　like

other　poor　fellows　for　whom　life　begins　in　toil　and　care；　he　had　never

yet　been　loved。　Arriving　at　Havre　overnight；　he　had　gone　to　bed　at

once；　like　a　true　coquette；　to　obliterate　all　traces　of　fatigue；　and

now；　after　taking　his　bath；　he　had　put　himself　into　a　costume

carefully　adapted　to　show　him　off　to　the　best　advantage。　This　is；

perhaps；　the　right　moment　to　exhibit　a　full…length　portrait　of　him；　if

only　to　justify　the　last　letter　that　Modeste　was　still　to　write　to

him。



Born　of　a　good　family　in　Toulouse；　and　allied　by　marriage　to　the

minister　who　first　took　him　under　his　protection；　Ernest　had　that　air

of　good…breeding　which　comes　of　an　education　begun　in　the　cradle；　and

the　habit　of　managing　business　affairs　gave　him　a　certain　sedateness

which　was　not　pedantic；though　pedantry　is　the　natural　outgrowth　of

premature　gravity。　He　was　of　ordinary　height；　his　face；　which　won　upon

all　who　saw　him　by　its　delicacy　and　sweetness；　was　warm　in　the　flesh…

tints；　though　without　color；　and　relieved　by　a　small　moustache　and

imperial　a　la　Mazarin。　Without　this　evidence　of　virility　he　might　have

resembled　a　young　woman　in　disguise；　so　refined　was　the　shape　of　his

face　and　the　cut　of　his　lips；　so　feminine　the　transparent　ivory　of　a

set　of　teeth；　regular　enough　to　have　seemed　artificial。　Add　to　these

womanly　points　a　habit　of　speech　as　gentle　as　the　expression　of　the

face；　as　gentle；　too；　as　the　blue　eyes　with　their　Turkish　eyelids；　and

you　will　readily　understand　how　it　was　that　the　minister　occasionally

called　his　young　secretary　Mademoiselle　de　La　Briere。　The　full；　clear

forehead；　well　framed　by　abundant　black　hair；　was　dreamy；　and　did　not

contradict　the　character　of　the　face；　which　was　altogether　melancholy。

The　prominent　arch　of　the　upper　eyelid；　though　very　beautifully　cut；

overshadowed　the　glance　of　the　eye；　and　added　a　physical　sadness；if

we　may　so　call　it；produced　by　the　droop　of　the　lid　over　the　eyeball。

This　inward　doubt　or　eclipsewhich　is　put　into　language　by　the　word

modestywas　expressed　in　his　whole　person。　Perhaps　we　shall　be　able

to　make　his　appearance　better　understood　if　we　say　that　the　logic　of

design　required　greater　length　in　the　oval　of　his　head；　more　space

between　the　chin；　which　ended　abruptly；　and　the　forehead；　which　was

reduced　in　height　by　the　way　in　which　the　hair　grew。　The　face　had；　in

short；　a　rather　compressed　appearance。　Hard　work　had　already　drawn

furrows　between　the　eyebrows；　which　were　somewhat　too　thick　and　too

near　together；　like　those　of　a　jealous　nature。　Though　La　Briere　was

then　slight；　he　belonged　to　the　class　of　temperaments　which　begin；

after　they　are　thirty；　to　take　on　an　unexpected　amount　of　flesh。



The　young　man　would　have　seemed　to　a　student　of　French　history　a　very

fair　representative　of　the　royal　and　almost　inconceivable　figure　of

Louis　XIII。；that　historical　figure　of　melancholy　modesty　without

known　cause；　pallid　beneath　the　crown；　loving　the　dangers　of　war　and

the　fatigues　of　hunting；　but　hating　work；　timid　with　his　mistress　to

the　extent　of　keeping　away　from　her；　so　indifferent　as　to　allow　the

head　of　his　friend　to　be　cut　off；a　figure　that　nothing　can　explain

but　his　remorse　for　having　avenged　his　father　on　his　mother。　Was　he　a

Catholic　Hamlet；　or　merely　the　victim　of　incurable　disease？　But　the

undying　worm　which　gnawed　at　the　king's　vitals　was　in　Ernest's　case

simply　distrust　of　himself；the　timidity　of　a　man　to　whom　no　woman

had　ever　said；　〃Ah；　how　I　love　thee！〃　and；　above　all；　the　spirit　of

self…devotion　without　an　object。　After　hearing　the　knell　of　the

monarchy　in　the　fall　of　his　patron's　ministry；　the　poor　fellow　had

next　fallen　upon　a　rock　covered　with　exquisite　mosses；　named　Canalis；

he　was；　therefore；　still　seeking　a　power　to　love；　and　this　spaniel…

like　search　for　a　master　gave　him　outwardly　the　air　of　a　king　who　has

met　with　his。　This　play　of　feeling；　and　a　general　tone　of　suffering　in

the　young　man's　face　made　it　more　really　beautiful　than　he　was　himself

aware　of；　for　he　had　always　been　annoyed　to　find　himself　classed　by

women　among　the　〃handsome　disconsolate；〃a　class　which　has　passed　out

of　fashion　in　these　days；　when　every　man　seeks　to　blow　his　own　trumpet

and　put　himself　in　the　advance。



The　self…distrustful　Ernest　now　rested　his　immediate　hopes　on　the

fashionable　clothes　he　intended　to　wear。　He　put　on；　for　this　sacred

interview；　where　everything　depended　on　a　first　impression；　a　pair　of

black　trousers　and　carefully　polished　boots；　a　sulphur…colored

waistcoat；　which　left　to　sight　an　exquisitely　fine　shirt　with　opal

buttons；　a　black　cravat；　and　a　small　blue　surtout　coat　which　seemed

glued　to　his　back　and　shoulders　by　some　newly…invented　process。　The

ribbon　of　the　Legion　of　honor　was　in　his　buttonhole。　He　wore　a　well…

fitting　pair　of　kid　gloves　of　the　Florentine　bronze　color；　and　carried

his　cane　and　hat　in　the　left　hand　with　a　gesture　and　air　that　was

worthy　of　the　Grand　Monarch；　and　enabled　him　to　show；　as　the　sacred

precincts　required；　his　bare　head　with　the　light　falling　on　his

carefully　arranged　hair。　He　stationed　himself　before　the　service　began

in　the　church　porch；　from　whence　he　could　examine　the　church；　and　the

Christiansmore　particularly　the　female　Christianswho　dipped　their

fingers　in　the　holy　water。



An　inward　voice　cried　to　Modeste　as　she　entered；　〃It　is　he！〃　That

surtout；　and　indeed　the　whole　bearing　of　the　young　man　were

essentially　Parisian；　the　ribbon；　the　gloves；　the　cane；　the　very

perfume　of　his　hair　were　not　of　Havre。　So　when　La　Briere　turned　about

to　examine　the　tall　and　imposing　Madame　Latournelle；　the　notary；　and

the　bundled…up　（expression　sacred　to　women）　figure　of　Modeste；　the

poor　child；　though　she　had　carefully　tutored　herself　for　the　event；

received　a　violent　blow　on　her　heart　when　her　eyes　rested　on　this

poetic　figure；　illuminated　by　the　full　light　of　day　as　it　streamed

through　the　open　door。　She　could　not　be　mistaken；　a　small　white　rose

nearly　hid　the　ribbon　of　the　Legion。　Would　he　recognize　his　unknown

mistress　muffled　in　an　old　bonnet　with　a　double　veil？　Modeste　was　so

in　fear　of　love's　clairvoyance　that　she　began　to　stoop　in　her　walk

like　an　old　woman。



〃Wife；〃　said　little　Latournelle　as　they　took　their　seats；　〃that

gentleman　does　not　belong　to　Havre。〃



〃So　many　strangers　come　here；〃　answered　his　wife。



〃But；〃　said　the　notary；　〃strangers　never　come　to　look　at　a　church　like

ours；　which　is　less　than　two　centuries　old。〃



Ernest　remained　in　the　porch　throughout　the　service　without　seeing　any

woman　who　realized　his　hopes。　Modeste；　on　her　part；　could　not　control

the　trembling　of　her　limbs　until　Mass　was　nearly　over。　She　was　in　the

grasp　of　a　joy　that　none　but　she　herself　could　depict。　At　last　she

heard　the　foot…fall　of　a　gentleman　on　the　pavement　of　the　aisle。　The

service　over；　La　Briere　was　making　a　circuit　of　the　church；　where　no

one　now　remained　but　the　punctiliously　pious；　whom　he　proceeded　to

subject　to　a　shrewd　and　keen　analysis。　Ernest　noticed　that　a　prayer…

book　shook　violently　in　the　hands　of　a　veiled　woman　as　he　passed　her；

as　she　alone　kept　her　face　hidden　his　suspicions　were　aroused；　and

then　confirmed　by　Modeste's　dress；　which　the　lover's　eye　now　scanned

and　noted。　He　left　the　church　with　the　Latournelles　and　followed　them

at　a　distance　to　the　rue　Royale；　where　he　saw　them　enter　a　house

accompanied　by　Modeste；　whose　custom　it　was　to　stay　with　her　friends

till　the　hour　of　vespers。　After　examining　the　little　house；　which　was

ornamented　with　scutcheons；　he　asked　the　name　of　the　owner；　and　was

told　that　he　was　Monsieur　Latournelle；　the　chief　notary　in　Havre。　As

Ernest　lounged　along　the　rue　Royale　hoping　for　a　glimpse　into　the

house；　Modeste　caught　sight　of　him；　and　thereu