modeste mignon-第6章

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into　her　heart　lay　beneath　a　stone　in　the　little　graveyard　of

Ingouville；　on　which　was　inscribed：



BETTINA　CAROLINE　MIGNON



Died　aged　twenty…two。



　　　Pray　for　her。



This　inscription　is　to　the　young　girl　whom　it　covered　what　many

another　epitaph　has　been　for　the　dead　lying　beneath　them；a　table　of

contents　to　a　hidden　book。　Here　is　the　book；　in　its　dreadful　brevity；

and　it　will　explain　the　oath　exacted　and　taken　when　the　colonel　and

the　lieutenant　bade　each　other　farewell。



A　young　man　of　charming　appearance；　named　Charles　d'Estourny；　came　to

Havre　for　the　commonplace　purpose　of　being　near　the　sea；　and　there　he

saw　Bettina　Mignon。　A　〃soi…disant〃　fashionable　Parisian　is　never

without　introductions；　and　he　was　invited　at　the　instance　of　a　friend

of　the　Mignons　to　a　fete　given　at　Ingouville。　He　fell　in　love　with

Bettina　and　with　her　fortune；　and　in　three　months　he　had　done　the　work

of　seduction　and　enticed　her　away。　The　father　of　a　family　of　daughters

should　no　more　allow　a　young　man　whom　he　does　not　know　to　enter　his

home　than　he　should　leave　books　and　papers　lying　about　which　he　has

not　read。　A　young　girl's　innocence　is　like　milk；　which　a　small　matter

turns　sour；a　clap　of　thunder；　an　evil　odor；　a　hot　day；　a　mere

breath。



When　Charles　Mignon　read　his　daughter's　letter　of　farewell　he

instantly　despatched　Madame　Dumay　to　Paris。　The　family　gave　out　that　a

journey　to　another　climate　had　suddenly　been　advised　for　Caroline　by

their　physician；　and　the　physician　himself　sustained　the　excuse；

though　unable　to　prevent　some　gossip　in　the　society　of　Havre。　〃Such　a

vigorous　young　girl！　with　the　complexion　of　a　Spaniard；　and　that　black

hair！she　consumptive！〃　〃Yes；　they　say　she　committed　some

imprudence。〃　〃Ah；　ah！〃　cried　a　Vilquin。　〃I　am　told　she　came　back

bathed　in　perspiration　after　riding　on　horseback；　and　drank　iced

water；　at　least；　that　is　what　Dr。　Troussenard　says。〃



By　the　time　Madame　Dumay　returned　to　Havre　the　catastrophe　of　the

failure　had　taken　place；　and　society　paid　no　further　attention　to　the

absence　of　Bettina　or　the　return　of　the　cashier's　wife。　At　the

beginning　of　1827　the　newspapers　rang　with　the　trial　of　Charles

d'Estourny；　who　was　found　guilty　of　cheating　at　cards。　The　young

corsair　escaped　into　foreign　parts　without　taking　thought　of

Mademoiselle　Mignon；　who　was　of　little　value　to　him　since　the　failure

of　the　bank。　Bettina　heard　of　his　infamous　desertion　and　of　her

father's　ruin　almost　at　the　same　time。　She　returned　home　struck　by

death；　and　wasted　away　in　a　short　time　at　the　Chalet。　Her　death　at

least　protected　her　reputation。　The　illness　that　Monsieur　Mignon

alleged　to　be　the　cause　of　her　absence；　and　the　doctor's　order　which

sent　her　to　Nice　were　now　generally　believed。　Up　to　the　last　moment

the　mother　hoped　to　save　her　daughter's　life。　Bettina　was　her　darling

and　Modeste　was　the　father's。　There　was　something　touching　in　the　two

preferences。　Bettina　was　the　image　of　Charles；　just　as　Modeste　was　the

reproduction　of　her　mother。　Both　parents　continued　their　love　for　each

other　in　their　children。　Bettina；　a　daughter　of　Provence；　inherited

from　her　father　the　beautiful　hair；　black　as　a　raven's　wing；　which

distinguishes　the　women　of　the　South；　the　brown　eye；　almond…shaped　and

brilliant　as　a　star；　the　olive　tint；　the　velvet　skin　as　of　some　golden

fruit；　the　arched　instep；　and　the　Spanish　waist　from　which　the　short

basque　skirt　fell　crisply。　Both　mother　and　father　were　proud　of　the

charming　contrast　between　the　sisters。　〃A　devil　and　an　angel！〃　they

said　to　each　other；　laughing；　little　thinking　it　prophetic。



After　weeping　for　a　month　in　the　solitude　of　her　chamber；　where　she

admitted　no　one；　the　mother　came　forth　at　last　with　injured　eyes。

Before　losing　her　sight　altogether　she　persisted；　against　the　wishes

of　her　friends；　in　visiting　her　daughter's　grave；　on　which　she　riveted

her　gaze　in　contemplation。　That　image　remained　vivid　in　the　darkness

which　now　fell　upon　her；　just　as　the　red　spectrum　of　an　object　shines

in　our　eyes　when　we　close　them　in　full　daylight。　This　terrible　and

double　misfortune　made　Dumay；　not　less　devoted；　but　more　anxious　about

Modeste；　now　the　only　daughter　of　the　father　who　was　unaware　of　his

loss。　Madame　Dumay；　idolizing　Modeste；　like　other　women　deprived　of

their　children；　cast　her　motherliness　about　the　girl；yet　without

disregarding　the　commands　of　her　husband；　who　distrusted　female

intimacies。　Those　commands　were　brief。　〃If　any　man；　of　any　age；　or　any

rank；〃　Dumay　said；　〃speaks　to　Modeste；　ogles　her；　makes　love　to　her；

he　is　a　dead　man。　I'll　blow　his　brains　out　and　give　myself　to　the

authorities；　my　death　may　save　her。　If　you　don't　wish　to　see　my　head

cut　off；　do　you　take　my　place　in　watching　her　when　I　am　obliged　to　go

out。〃



For　the　last　three　years　Dumay　had　examined　his　pistols　every　night。

He　seemed　to　have　put　half　the　burden　of　his　oath　upon　the　Pyrenean

hounds；　two　animals　of　uncommon　sagacity。　One　slept　inside　the　Chalet；

the　other　was　stationed　in　a　kennel　which　he　never　left；　and　where　he

never　barked；　but　terrible　would　have　been　the　moment　had　the　pair

made　their　teeth　meet　in　some　unknown　adventurer。



We　can　now　imagine　the　sort　of　life　led　by　mother　and　daughter　at　the

Chalet。　Monsieur　and　Madame　Latournelle；　often　accompanied　by

Gobenheim；　came　to　call　and　play　whist　with　Dumay　nearly　every

evening。　The　conversation　turned　on　the　gossip　of　Havre　and　the　petty

events　of　provincial　life。　The　little　company　separated　between　nine

and　ten　o'clock。　Modeste　put　her　mother　to　bed；　and　together　they　said

their　prayers；　kept　up　each　other's　courage；　and　talked　of　the　dear

absent　one；　the　husband　and　father。　After　kissing　her　mother　for　good…

night；　the　girl　went　to　her　own　room　about　ten　o'clock。　The　next

morning　she　prepared　her　mother　for　the　day　with　the　same　care；　the

same　prayers；　the　same　prattle。　To　her　praise　be　it　said　that　from　the

day　when　the　terrible　infirmity　deprived　her　mother　of　a　sense；

Modeste　had　been　like　a　servant　to　her；　displaying　at　all　times　the

same　solicitude；　never　wearying　of　the　duty；　never　thinking　it

monotonous。　Such　constant　devotion；　combined　with　a　tenderness　rare

among　young　girls；　was　thoroughly　appreciated　by　those　who　witnessed

it。　To　the　Latournelle　family；　and　to　Monsieur　and　Madame　Dumay；

Modeste　was；　in　soul；　the　pearl　of　price。



On　sunny　days；　between　breakfast　and　dinner；　Madame　Mignon　and　Madame

Dumay　took　a　little　walk　toward　the　sea。　Modeste　accompanied　them；　for

two　arms　were　needed　to　support　the　blind　mother。　About　a　month　before

the　scene　to　which　this　explanation　is　a　parenthesis；　Madame　Mignon

had　taken　counsel　with　her　friends；　Madame　Latournelle；　the　notary；

and　Dumay；　while　Madame　Dumay　carried　Modeste　in　another　direction　for

a　longer　walk。



〃Listen　to　what　I　have　to　say；〃　said　the　blind　woman。　〃My　daughter　is

in　love。　I　feel　it；　I　see　it。　A　singular　change　has　taken　place　within

her；　and　I　do　not　see　how　it　is　that　none　of　you　have　perceived　it。〃



〃In　the　name　of　all　that's　honorable〃　cried　the　lieutenant。



〃Don't　interrupt　me；　Dumay。　For　the　last　two　months　Modeste　has　taken

as　much　care　of　her　personal　appearance　as　if　she　expected　to　meet　a

lover。　She　has　grown　extremely　fastidious　about　her　shoes；　she　wants

to　set　off　her　pretty　feet；　she　scolds　Madame　Gobet；　the　shoemaker。　It

is　the　same　thing　with　her　milliner。　Some　days　my　poor　darling　is

absorbed　in　thought；　evidently　expectant；　as　if　waiting　for　some　one。

Her　voice　has　curt　tones　when　she　answers　a　question；　as　though　she

were　interrupted　in　the　current　of　her　thoughts　and　secret

expectations。　Then；　if　this　awaited　lover　has　come〃



〃Good　heavens！〃



〃Sit　down；　Dumay；〃　said　the　blind　woman。　〃Well；　then　Modeste　is　gay。

Oh！　she　is　not　gay　to　your　sight；　you　cannot　catch　these　gradations；

they　are　too　delicate　for　eyes　that　see　only　the　outside　of　nature。

Her　gaiety　is　betrayed　to　me　by　the　tones　of　her　voice；　by　certain

accents　which　I　alone　can　catch　and　understand。　Modeste　then；　instead

of　sitting　still　and　thoughtful；　gives　vent　to　a　wild；　inward　activity

by　impulsive　movements；in　short；　she　is　happy。　There　is　a　grace；　a

charm　in　the　very　ideas　she　utters。　Ah；　my　friends；　I　know　happiness

as　well　as　I　know　sorrow；　I　know　its　signs。　By　the　kiss　my　Modeste

gives　me　I　can　guess　what　is　passing　within　her。　I　know　whether　she

has　received　what　she　was　looking　for；　or　whether　she　is　uneasy　or

expectant。　There　are　many　gradations　in　a　kiss；　even　in　that　of　an

innocent　young　girl；　and　Modeste　is　innocence　itself；　but　hers　is　the

innocence　of　knowledge；　not　of　ignorance。　I　may　be　blind；　but　my

tenderness　is　all…seeing；　and　I　charge　you　to　watch　over　my　daughter。〃



Dumay；　now　actually　ferocious；　the　notary；　in　the　character　of　a　man

bound　to　ferret　out　a　mystery；　Madame　Latournelle；　the　deceived

chaperone；　and　Madame　Dumay；　alarmed　for　her　husband's　safety；　became

at　once　a　set　of　spies；　and　Modeste　from　this　day　forth　was　never　left

alone　for　an　instant。　Dumay　passed　nights　under　her　window　wrapped　in

his　cloak　like　a　jealous　Spaniard；　but　with　all　his　military　sagacity

he　was　unable　to　detect　the　least　suspicious　sign。　Unless　she　loved

the　nightingales　in　the　villa　park；　or　some　fairy　prince；　Modeste

could　have　seen　no　one；　and　had　neither　given　nor　received　a　signal。

Madame　Dumay；　who　never　went　to　bed　till　she　knew　Modeste　was　asleep；

watched　the　road　from　the　upper　windows　of　the　Chalet　with　a　vigilance

equal　to　her　husband's。　Under　these　eight　Argus　eyes　the　blameless

child；　whose　every　motion　was　studied　and　analyzed；　came　out　of　the

ordeal　so　fully　acquitted　of　all　criminal　conversation　that　the　four

friends　declared　to　each　other　privately　that　Madame　Mignon　was

foolishly　over…anxious。　Madame　Latournelle；　who　always　took　Modeste　to

church　and　brought　her　back　again；　was　commissioned　to　tell　the　mother

that　she　was　mistaken　about　her　daughter。



〃Modeste；〃　she　said；　〃is　a　young　girl　of　very　exalted　ideas；　she　works

herself　into　enthusiasm　for　the　poetry　of　one　writer　or　the　prose　of

another。　You　have　only　to　judge　by　the　impression　made　upon　her　by

that　scaffold　symphony；　'The　Last　Hours　of　a　Convict'〃　（the　saying　was

Butscha's；　who　supplied　wit　to　his　benefactress　with　a　lavish　hand）；

〃she　seemed　to　me　all　but　crazy　with　admiration　for　that　Monsieur　Hugo。

I'm　sure　I　don't　know　where　such　people〃　（Victor　Hugo；　Lamartine；

Byron　being　SUCH　PEOPLE　to　the　Madame　Latournelles　of　the　bourgeoisie）

〃get　their　ideas。　Modeste　kept　talking　to　me　of　Childe　Harold；　and　as

I　did　not　wish　to　get　the　worst　of　the　argument　I　was　silly　enough　to

try　to　read　the　thing。　Perhaps　it　was　the　fault　of　the　translator；　but

it　actually　turned　my　stomach；　I　was　dazed；　I　couldn't　possibly　finish

it。　Why；　the　man　talks　about　comparisons　that　howl；　rocks　that　faint；

and　waves　of　war！　Howev