the lily of the valley(幽谷百合)-第45章

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rescue　her　from　death；　for　her　one　cry　had　been；　〃Oh；　save　me！〃　〃To
heal　the　body　the　heart　must　first　be　healed；〃　the　doctor　had
exclaimed　one　day。

〃As　the　illness　increased；　the　words　of　this　poor　woman；　once　so
gentle；　have　grown　bitter；〃　said　the　Abbe。　〃She　calls　on　earth　to　keep
her；　instead　of　asking　God　to　take　her；　then　she　repents　these　murmurs
against　the　divine　decree。　Such　alternations　of　feeling　rend　her　heart
and　make　the　struggle　between　body　and　soul　most　horrible。　Often　the
body　triumphs。　'You　have　cost　me　dear；'　she　said　one　day　to　Jacques
and　Madeleine；　but　in　a　moment；　recalled　to　God　by　the　look　on　my
face；　she　turned　to　Madeleine　with　these　angelic　words；　'The　happiness
of　others　is　the　joy　of　those　who　cannot　themselves　be　happy；'and
the　tone　with　which　she　said　them　brought　tears　to　my　eyes。　She　falls；
it　is　true；　but　each　time　that　her　feet　stumble　she　rises　higher
towards　heaven。〃

Struck　by　the　tone　of　the　successive　intimations　chance　had　sent　me；
and　which　in　this　great　concert　of　misfortunes　were　like　a　prelude　of
mournful　modulations　to　a　funereal　theme；　the　mighty　cry　of　expiring
love；　I　cried　out：　〃Surely　you　believe　that　this　pure　lily　cut　from
earth　will　flower　in　heaven？〃

〃You　left　her　still　a　flower；〃　he　answered；　〃but　you　will　find　her
consumed；　purified　by　the　forces　of　suffering；　pure　as　a　diamond
buried　in　the　ashes。　Yes；　that　shining　soul；　angelic　star；　will　issue
glorious　from　the　clouds　and　pass　into　the　kingdom　of　the　Light。〃

As　I　pressed　the　hand　of　the　good　evangelist；　my　heart　overflowing
with　gratitude；　the　count　put　his　head；　now　entirely　white；　out　of　the
door　and　immediately　sprang　towards　me　with　signs　of　surprise。

〃She　was　right！　He　is　here！　'Felix；　Felix；　Felix　has　come！'　she　kept
crying。　My　dear　friend；〃　he　continued；　beside　himself　with　terror；
〃death　is　here。　Why　did　it　not　take　a　poor　madman　like　me　with　one
foot　in　the　grave？〃

I　walked　towards　the　house　summoning　my　courage；　but　on　the　threshold
of　the　long　antechamber　which　crossed　the　house　and　led　to　the　lawn；
the　Abbe　Birotteau　stopped　me。

〃Madame　la　comtesse　begs　you　will　not　enter　at　present；〃　he　said　to
me。

Giving　a　glance　within　the　house　I　saw　the　servants　coming　and　going；
all　busy；　all　dumb　with　grief；　surprised　perhaps　by　the　orders　Manette
gave　them。

〃What　has　happened？〃　cried　the　count；　alarmed　by　the　commotion；　as
much　from　fear　of　the　coming　event　as　from　the　natural　uneasiness　of
his　character。

〃Only　a　sick　woman's　fancy；〃　said　the　abbe。　〃Madame　la　comtesse　does
not　wish　to　receive　monsieur　le　vicomte　as　she　now　is。　She　talks　of
dressing；　why　thwart　her？〃

Manette　came　in　search　of　Madeleine；　whom　I　saw　leave　the　house　a　few
moments　after　she　had　entered　her　mother's　room。　We　were　all；　Jacques
and　his　father；　the　two　abbes　and　I；　silently　walking　up　and　down　the
lawn　in　front　of　the　house。　I　looked　first　at　Montbazon　and　then　at
Azay；　noticing　the　seared　and　yellow　valley　which　answered　in　its
mourning　（as　it　ever　did　on　all　occasions）　to　the　feelings　of　my
heart。　Suddenly　I　beheld　the　dear　〃mignonne〃　gathering　the　autumn
flowers；　no　doubt　to　make　a　bouquet　at　her　mother's　bidding。　Thinking
of　all　which　that　signified；　I　was　so　convulsed　within　me　that　I
staggered；　my　sight　was　blurred；　and　the　two　abbes；　between　whom　I
walked；　led　me　to　the　wall　of　a　terrace；　where　I　sat　for　some　time
completely　broken　down　but　not　unconscious。

〃Poor　Felix；〃　said　the　count；　〃she　forbade　me　to　write　to　you。　She
knew　how　much　you　loved　her。〃

Though　prepared　to　suffer；　I　found　I　had　no　strength　to　bear　a　scene
which　recalled　my　memories　of　past　happiness。　〃Ah！〃　I　thought；　〃I　see
it　still；　that　barren　moor；　dried　like　a　skeleton；　lit　by　a　gray　sky；
in　the　centre　of　which　grew　a　single　flowering　bush；　which　again　and
again　I　looked　at　with　a　shudder；the　forecast　of　this　mournful
hour！〃

All　was　gloom　in　the　little　castle；　once　so　animated；　so　full　of　life。
The　servants　were　weeping；　despair　and　desolation　everywhere。　The
paths　were　not　raked；　work　was　begun　and　left　undone；　the　workmen
standing　idly　about　the　house。　Though　the　grapes　were　being　gathered
in　the　vineyard；　not　a　sound　reached　us。　The　place　seemed　uninhabited；
so　deep　the　silence！　We　walked　about　like　men　whose　grief　rejects　all
ordinary　topics；　and　we　listened　to　the　count；　the　only　one　of　us　who
spoke。

After　a　few　words　prompted　by　the　mechanical　love　he　felt　for　his　wife
he　was　led　by　the　natural　bent　of　his　mind　to　complain　of　her。　She　had
never；　he　said；　taken　care　of　herself　or　listened　to　him　when　he　gave
her　good　advice。　He　had　been　the　first　to　notice　the　symptoms　of　her
illness；　for　he　had　studied　them　in　his　own　case；　he　had　fought　them
and　cured　them　without　other　assistance　than　careful　diet　and　the
avoidance　of　all　emotion。　He　could　have　cured　the　countess；　but　a
husband　ought　not　to　take　so　much　responsibility　upon　himself；
especially　when　he　has　the　misfortune　of　finding　his　experience；　in
this　as　in　everything；　despised。　In　spite　of　all　he　could　say；　the
countess　insisted　on　seeing　Origet；Origet；　who　had　managed　his　case
so　ill；　was　now　killing　his　wife。　If　this　disease　was；　as　they　said；
the　result　of　excessive　grief；　surely　he　was　the　one　who　had　been　in　a
condition　to　have　it。　What　griefs　could　the　countess　have　had？　She　was
always　happy；　she　had　never　had　troubles　or　annoyances。　Their　fortune；
thanks　to　his　care　and　to　his　sound　ideas；　was　now　in　a　most
satisfactory　state；　he　had　always　allowed　Madame　de　Mortsauf　to　reign
at　Clochegourde；　her　children；　well　trained　and　now　in　health；　gave
her　no　anxiety；where；　then；　did　this　grief　they　talked　of　come　from？

Thus　he　argued　and　discussed　the　matter；　mingling　his　expressions　of
despair　with　senseless　accusations。　Then；　recalled　by　some　sudden
memory　to　the　admiration　which　he　felt　for　his　wife；　tears　rolled　from
his　eyes　which　had　been　dry　so　long。

Madeleine　came　to　tell　me　that　her　mother　was　ready。　The　Abbe
Birotteau　followed　me。　Madeleine；　now　a　grave　young　girl；　stayed　with
her　father；　saying　that　the　countess　desired　to　be　alone　with　me；　and
also　that　the　presence　of　too　many　persons　would　fatigue　her。　The
solemnity　of　this　moment　gave　me　that　sense　of　inward　heat　and　outward
cold　which　overcomes　us　often　in　the　great　events　of　life。　The　Abbe
Birotteau；　one　of　those　men　whom　God　marks　for　his　own　by　investing
them　with　sweetness　and　simplicity；　together　with　patience　and
compassion；　took　me　aside。

〃Monsieur；〃　he　said；　〃I　wish　you　to　know　that　I　have　done　all　in　my
power　to　prevent　this　meeting。　The　salvation　of　this　saint　required
it。　I　have　considered　her　only；　and　not　you。　Now　that　you　are　about　to
see　her　to　whom　access　ought　to　have　been　denied　you　by　the　angels；
let　me　say　that　I　shall　be　present　to　protect　you　against　yourself　and
perhaps　against　her。　Respect　her　weakness。　I　do　not　ask　this　of　you　as
a　priest；　but　as　a　humble　friend　whom　you　did　not　know　you　had；　and
who　would　fain　save　you　from　remorse。　Our　dear　patient　is　dying　of
hunger　and　thirst。　Since　morning　she　is　a　victim　to　the　feverish
irritation　which　precedes　that　horrible　death；　and　I　cannot　conceal
from　you　how　deeply　she　regrets　life。　The　cries　of　her　rebellious
flesh　are　stifled　in　my　heartwhere　they　wake　echoes　of　a　wound　still
tender。　But　Monsieur　de　Dominis　and　I　accept　this　duty　that　we　may
spare　the　sight　of　this　moral　anguish　to　her　family；　as　it　is；　they　no
longer　recognize　their　star　by　night　and　by　day　in　her；　they　all；
husband；　children；　servants；　all　are　asking；　'Where　is　she？'she　is
so　changed！　When　she　sees　you；　her　regrets　will　revive。　Lay　aside　your
thoughts　as　a　man　of　the　world；　forget　its　vanities；　be　to　her　the
auxiliary　of　heaven；　not　of　earth。　Pray　God　that　this　dear　saint　die
not　in　a　moment　of　doubt；　giving　voice　to　her　despair。〃

I　did　not　answer。　My　silence　alarmed　the　poor　confessor。　I　saw；　I
heard；　I　walked；　and　yet　I　was　no　longer　on　the　earth。　The　thought；
〃In　what　state　shall　I　find　her？　Why　do　they　use　these　precautions？〃
gave　rise　to　apprehensions　which　were　the　more　cruel　because　so
indefinite；　all　forms　of　suffering　crowded　my　mind。

We　reached　the　door　of　the　chamber　and　the　abbe　opened　it。　I　then　saw
Henriette；　dressed　in　white；　sitting　on　her　little　sofa　which　was
placed　before　the　fireplace；　on　which　were　two　vases　filled　with
flowers；　flowers　were　also　on　a　table　near　the　window。　The　expression
of　the　abbe's　face；　which　was　that　of　amazement　at　the　change　in　the
room；　now　restored　to　its　former　state；　showing　me　that　the　dying
woman　had　sent　away　the　repulsive　preparations　which　surround　a　sick…
bed。　She　had　spent　the　last　waning　strength　of　fever　in　decorating　her
room　to　receive　him　whom　in　that　final　hour　she　loved　above　all　things
else。　Surrounded　by　clouds　of　lace；　her　shrunken　face；　which　had　the
greenish　pallor　of　a　magnolia　flower　as　it　opens；　resembled　the　first
outline　of　a　cherished　head　drawn　in　chalks　upon　the　yellow　canvas　of
a　portrait。　To　feel　how　deeply　the　vulture's　talons　now　buried
themselves　in　my　heart；　imagine　the　eyes　of　that　outlined　face
finished　and　full　of　life；hollow　eyes　which　shone　with　a　brilliancy
unusual　in　a　dying　person。　The　calm　majesty　given　to　her　in　the　past
by　her　constant　victory　over　sorrow　was　there　no　longer。　Her　forehead；
the　only　part　of　her　face　which　still　kept　its　beautiful　proportions；
wore　an　expression　of　aggressive　will　and　covert　threats。　In　spite　of
the　waxy　texture　of　her　elongated　face；　inward　fires　were　issuing　from
it　like　the　fluid　mist　which　seems　to　flame　above　the　fields　of　a　hot
day。　Her　hollow　temples；　her　sunken　cheeks　showed　the　interior
formation　of　the　face；　and　the　smile　upon　her　whitened　lips　vaguely
resembled　the　grin　of　death。　Her　robe；　which　was　folded　across　her
breast；　showed　the　emaciation　of　her　beautiful　figure。　The　expression
of　her　head　said　plainly　that　she　knew　she　was　changed；　and　that　the
thought　filled　her　with　bitterness。　She　was　no　longer　the　arch
Henriette；　nor　the　sublime　and　saintly　Madame　de　Mortsauf；　but　the
nameless　something　of　Bossuet　struggling　against　annihilation；　driven
to　the　selfish　battle　of　life　against　death　by　hunger　and　balked
desire。　I　took　her　hand；　which　was　dry　and　burning；　to　kiss　it；　as　I
seated　myself　beside　her。　She　guessed　my　sorrowful　surprise　from　the
very　effort　that　I　made　to　hide　it。　Her　discolored　lips　drew　up　from
her　famished　teeth　trying　to　form　a　smile；the　forced　smile　with
which　we　strive　to　hide　either　the　irony　of　vengeance；　the　expectation
of　pleasure；　the　intoxication　of　our　souls；　or　the　fury　of
disappointment。

〃Ah；　my　poor　Felix；　this　is　death；〃　she　said；　〃and　you　do　not　like
death；　odious　death；　of　which　every　human　creature；　even　the　boldest
lover；　feels　a　horror。　This　is　the　end　of　love；　I　knew　it　would　be　so。
Lady　Dudley　will　never　see　you　thus　surprised　at　the　change　in　her。
Ah！　why　have　I　so　longed　for　you；　Felix？　You　have　come　at　last；　and　I
reward　your　devotion　by　the　same　horrible　sight　that　made　the　Comte　de
Rance　a　Trappist。　I；　who　hoped　to　remain　ever　beautiful　and　noble　in
your　memory；　to　live　there　eternally　a　lily；　I　it　is　who　destroy　your
il