the lily of the valley(幽谷百合)-第49章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　thought。　〃Thought；〃　he　said　to　me；　〃is　involuntary；　but　it　can　be
　　watched　even　in　the　midst　of　anguish。〃　〃If　I　think；〃　I　replied；　
　　〃all　will　be　lost；　save　me　from　myself。　Let　him　remain　beside　me
　　and　keep　me　pure！〃　The　good　old　man；　though　stern；　was　moved　by　my
　　sincerity。　〃Love　him　as　you　would　a　son；　and　give　him　your　
　　daughter；〃　he　said。　I　accepted　bravely　that　life　of　suffering　that
　　I　might　not　lose　you；　and　I　suffered　joyfully；　seeing　that　we　were
　　called　to　bear　the　same　yokeMy　God！　I　have　been　firm；　faithful
　　to　my　husband；　I　have　given　you　no　foothold；　Felix；　in　your
　　kingdom。　The　grandeur　of　my　passion　has　reacted　on　my　character；　I
　　have　regarded　the　tortures　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　has　inflicted　on
　　me　as　expiations；　I　bore　them　proudly　in　condemnation　of　my　faulty
　　desires。　Formerly　I　was　disposed　to　murmur　at　my　life；　but　since
　　you　entered　it　I　have　recovered　some　gaiety；　and　this　has　been　the
　　better　for　the　count。　Without　this　strength；　which　I　derived
　　through　you；　I　should　long　since　have　succumbed　to　the　inward　life
　　of　which　I　told　you。

　　If　you　have　counted　for　much　in　the　exercise　of　my　duty　so　have　my
　　children　also。　I　felt　I　had　deprived　them　of　something；　and　I
　　feared　I　could　never　do　enough　to　make　amends　to　them；　my　life　was
　　thus　a　continual　struggle　which　I　loved。　Feeling　that　I　was　less　a
　　mother；　less　an　honest　wife；　remorse　entered　my　heart；　fearing　to
　　fail　in　my　obligations；　I　constantly　went　beyond　them。　Often　have
　　I　put　Madeleine　between　you　and　me；　giving　you　to　each　other；
　　raising　barriers　between　us；barriers　that　were　powerless！　for
　　what　could　stifle　the　emotions　which　you　caused　me？　Absent　or
　　present；　you　had　the　same　power。　I　preferred　Madeleine　to　Jacques
　　because　Madeleine　was　sometime　to　be　yours。　But　I　did　not　yield
　　you　to　my　daughter　without　a　struggle。　I　told　myself　that　I　was
　　only　twenty…eight　when　I　first　met　you；　and　you　were　nearly
　　twenty…two；　I　shortened　the　distance　between　us；　I　gave　myself　up
　　to　delusive　hopes。　Oh；　Felix！　I　tell　you　these　things　to　save　you
　　from　remorse；　also；　perhaps；　to　show　you　that　I　was　not　cold　and
　　insensible；　that　our　sufferings　were　cruelly　mutual；　that　Arabella
　　had　no　superiority　of　love　over　mine。　I　too　am　the　daughter　of　a
　　fallen　race；　such　as　men　love　well。

　　There　came　a　moment　when　the　struggle　was　so　terrible　that　I　wept
　　the　long　nights　through；　my　hair　fell　off；you　have　it！　Do　you
　　remember　the　count's　illness？　Your　nobility　of　soul　far　from
　　raising　my　soul　belittled　it。　Alas！　I　dreamed　of　giving　myself　to
　　you　some　day　as　the　reward　of　so　much　heroism；　but　the　folly　was　a
　　brief　one。　I　laid　it　at　the　feet　of　God　during　the　mass　that　day
　　when　you　refused　to　be　with　me。　Jacques'　illness　and　Madeleine's
　　sufferings　seemed　to　me　the　warnings　of　God　calling　back　to　Him
　　His　lost　sheep。

　　Then　your　lovewhich　is　so　naturalfor　that　Englishwoman
　　revealed　to　me　secrets　of　which　I　had　no　knowledge。　I　loved　you
　　better　than　I　knew。　The　constant　emotions　of　this　stormy　life；　the
　　efforts　that　I　made　to　subdue　myself　with　no　other　succor　than
　　that　religion　gave　me；　all；　all　has　brought　about　the　malady　of
　　which　I　die。　The　terrible　shocks　I　have　undergone　brought　on
　　attacks　about　which　I　kept　silence。　I　saw　in　death　the　sole
　　solution　of　this　hidden　tragedy。　A　lifetime　of　anger；　jealousy；
　　and　rage　lay　in　those　two　months　between　the　time　my　mother　told
　　me　of　your　relations　with　Lady　Dudley；　and　your　return　to
　　Clochegourde。　I　wished　to　go　to　Paris；　murder　was　in　my　heart；　I
　　desired　that　woman's　death；　I　was　indifferent　to　my　children。
　　Prayer；　which　had　hitherto　been　to　me　a　balm；　was　now　without
　　influence　on　my　soul。　Jealousy　made　the　breach　through　which　death
　　has　entered。　And　yet　I　have　kept　a　placid　brow。　Yes；　that　period
　　of　struggle　was　a　secret　between　God　and　myself。　After　your　return
　　and　when　I　saw　that　I　was　loved；　even　as　I　loved　you；　that　nature
　　had　betrayed　me　and　not　your　thought；　I　wished　to　live；it　was
　　then　too　late！　God　had　taken　me　under　His　protection；　filled　no
　　doubt　with　pity　for　a　being　true　with　herself；　true　with　Him；
　　whose　sufferings　had　often　led　her　to　the　gates　of　the　sanctuary。

　　My　beloved！　God　has　judged　me；　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　will　pardon
　　me；　but　youwill　you　be　merciful？　Will　you　listen　to　this　voice
　　which　now　issues　from　my　tomb？　Will　you　repair　the　evils　of　which
　　we　are　equally　guilty？you；　perhaps；　less　than　I。　You　know　what　I
　　wish　to　ask　of　you。　Be　to　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　what　a　sister　of
　　charity　is　to　a　sick　man；　listen　to　him；　love　himno　one　loves
　　him。　Interpose　between　him　and　his　children　as　I　have　done。　Your
　　task　will　not　be　a　long　one。　Jacques　will　soon　leave　home　to　be　in
　　Paris　near　his　grandfather；　and　you　have　long　promised　me　to　guide
　　him　through　the　dangers　of　that　life。　As　for　Madeleine；　she　will
　　marry；　I　pray　that　you　may　please　her。　She　is　all　myself；　but
　　stronger；　she　has　the　will　in　which　I　am　lacking；　the　energy
　　necessary　for　the　companion　of　a　man　whose　career　destines　him　to
　　the　storms　of　political　life；　she　is　clever　and　perceptive。　If
　　your　lives　are　united　she　will　be　happier　than　her　mother。　By
　　acquiring　the　right　to　continue　my　work　at　Clochegourde　you　will
　　blot　out　the　faults　I　have　not　sufficiently　expiated；　though　they
　　are　pardoned　in　heaven　and　also　on　earth；　for　HE　is　generous　and
　　will　forgive　me。　You　see　I　am　ever　selfish；　is　it　not　the　proof　of
　　a　despotic　love？　I　wish　you　to　still　love　me　in　mine。　Unable　to　be
　　yours　in　life；　I　bequeath　to　you　my　thoughts　and　also　my　duties。
　　If　you　do　not　wish　to　marry　Madeleine　you　will　at　least　seek　the
　　repose　of　my　soul　by　making　Monsieur　de　Mortsauf　as　happy　as　he
　　ever　can　be。

　　Farewell；　dear　child　of　my　heart；　this　is　the　farewell　of　a　mind
　　absolutely　sane；　still　full　of　life；　the　farewell　of　a　spirit　on
　　which　thou　hast　shed　too　many　and　too　great　joys　to　suffer　thee　to
　　feel　remorse　for　the　catastrophe　they　have　caused。　I　use　that　word
　　〃catastrophe〃　thinking　of　you　and　how　you　love　me；　as　for　me；　I
　　reach　the　haven　of　my　rest；　sacrificed　to　duty　and　not　without
　　regretah！　I　tremble　at　that　thought。　God　knows　better　than　I
　　whether　I　have　fulfilled　his　holy　laws　in　accordance　with　their
　　spirit。　Often；　no　doubt；　I　have　tottered；　but　I　have　not　fallen；
　　the　most　potent　cause　of　my　wrong…doing　lay　in　the　grandeur　of　the
　　seductions　that　encompassed　me。　The　Lord　will　behold　me　trembling
　　when　I　enter　His　presence　as　though　I　had　succumbed。　Farewell
　　again；　a　long　farewell　like　that　I　gave　last　night　to　our　dear
　　valley；　where　I　soon　shall　rest　and　where　you　will　oftenwill　you
　　not？return。


Henriette。

I　fell　into　an　abyss　of　terrible　reflections；　as　I　perceived　the
depths　unknown　of　the　life　now　lighted　up　by　this　expiring　flame。　The
clouds　of　my　egotism　rolled　away。　She　had　suffered　as　much　as　Imore
than　I；　for　she　was　dead。　She　believed　that　others　would　be　kind　to
her　friend；　she　was　so　blinded　by　love　that　she　had　never　so　much　as
suspected　the　enmity　of　her　daughter。　That　last　proof　of　her
tenderness　pained　me　terribly。　Poor　Henriette　wished　to　give　me
Clochegourde　and　her　daughter。

Natalie；　from　that　dread　day　when　first　I　entered　a　graveyard
following　the　remains　of　my　noble　Henriette；　whom　now　you　know；　the
sun　has　been　less　warm；　less　luminous；　the　nights　more　gloomy；
movement　less　agile；　thought　more　dull。　There　are　some　departed　whom
we　bury　in　the　earth；　but　there　are　others　more　deeply　loved　for　whom
our　souls　are　winding…sheets；　whose　memory　mingles　daily　with　our
heart…beats；　we　think　of　them　as　we　breathe；　they　are　in　us　by　the
tender　law　of　a　metempsychosis　special　to　love。　A　soul　is　within　my
soul。　When　some　good　thing　is　done　by　me；　when　some　true　word　is
spoken；　that　soul　acts　and　speaks。　All　that　is　good　within　me　issues
from　that　grave；　as　the　fragrance　of　a　lily　fills　the　air；　sarcasm；
bitterness；　all　that　you　blame　in　me　is　mine。　Natalie；　when　next　my
eyes　are　darkened　by　a　cloud　or　raised　to　heaven　after　long
contemplation　of　earth；　when　my　lips　make　no　reply　to　your　words　or
your　devotion；　do　not　ask　me　again；　〃Of　what　are　you　thinking？〃

*****

Dear　Natalie；　I　ceased　to　write　some　days　ago；　these　memories　were　too
bitter　for　me。　Still；　I　owe　you　an　account　of　the　events　which
followed　this　catastrophe；　they　need　few　words。　When　a　life　is　made　up
of　action　and　movement　it　is　soon　told；　but　when　it　passes　in　the
higher　regions　of　the　soul　its　story　becomes　diffuse。　Henriette's
letter　put　the　star　of　hope　before　my　eyes。　In　this　great　shipwreck　I
saw　an　isle　on　which　I　might　be　rescued。　To　live　at　Clochegourde　with
Madeleine；　consecrating　my　life　to　hers；　was　a　fate　which　satisfied
the　ideas　of　which　my　heart　was　full。　But　it　was　necessary　to　know　the
truth　as　to　her　real　feelings。　As　I　was　bound　to　bid　the　count
farewell；　I　went　to　Clochegourde　to　see　him；　and　met　him　on　the
terrace。　We　walked　up　and　down　for　some　time。　At　first　he　spoke　of　the
countess　like　a　man　who　knew　the　extent　of　his　loss；　and　all　the
injury　it　was　doing　to　his　inner　self。　But　after　the　first　outbreak　of
his　grief　was　over　he　seemed　more　concerned　about　the　future　than　the
present。　He　feared　his　daughter；　who；　he　told　me；　had　not　her　mother's
gentleness。　Madeleine's　firm　character；　in　which　there　was　something
heroic　blending　with　her　mother's　gracious　nature；　alarmed　the　old
man；　used　to　Henriette's　tenderness；　and　he　now　foresaw　the　power　of　a
will　that　never　yielded。　His　only　consolation　for　his　irreparable
loss；　he　said；　was　the　certainty　of　soon　rejoining　his　wife；　the
agitations；　the　griefs　of　these　last　few　weeks　had　increased　his
illness　and　brought　back　all　his　former　pains；　the　struggle　which　he
foresaw　between　his　authority　as　a　father　and　that　of　his　daughter；
now　mistress　of　the　house；　would　end　his　days　in　bitterness；　for
though　he　should　have　struggled　against　his　wife；　he　should；　he　knew；
be　forced　to　give　way　before　his　child。　Besides；　his　son　was　soon　to
leave　him；　his　daughter　would　marry；　and　what　sort　of　son…in…law　was
he　likely　to　have？　Though　he　thus　talked　of　dying；　his　real　distress
was　in　feeling　himself　alone　for　many　years　to　come　without　sympathy。

During　this　hour　when　he　spoke　only　of　himself；　and　asked　for　my
friendship　in　his　wife's　name；　he　completed　a　picture　in　my　mind　of
the　remarkable　figure　of　the　Emigre；one　of　the　most　imposing　types
of　our　period。　In　appearance　he　was　frail　and　broken；　but　life　seemed
persistent　in　him　because　of　his　sober　habits　and　his　country
avocations。　He　is　still　living。

Though　Madeleine　could　see　me　on　the　terrace；　she　did　not　come　down。
Several　times　she　came　out　upon　the　portico　and　went　back　in　again；　as
if　to　signify　her　contempt。　I　seized　a　moment　when　she　appeared　to　beg
the　count　to　go　to　the　house　and　call　her；　saying　I　had　a　last　wish　of
her　mother　to　convey　to　her；　and　this　would　be　my　only　opportunity　of
doing　so。　The　count　brought　her；　and　left　us　alone　together　on　the
terrace。

〃Dear　Madeleine；〃　I　said；　〃if　I　am　to　speak　to　you；　surely　it　should
be　h