diff options
Diffstat (limited to '1715-h/1715-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 1715-h/1715-h.htm | 9381 |
1 files changed, 9381 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/1715-h/1715-h.htm b/1715-h/1715-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc28779 --- /dev/null +++ b/1715-h/1715-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9381 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Eugenie Grandet, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Eugenie Grandet, by Honore de Balzac + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Eugenie Grandet + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Translator: Katharine Prescott Wormeley + +Release Date: March 1, 2010 [EBook #1715] +Last Updated: November 22, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EUGENIE GRANDET *** + + + + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + EUGENIE GRANDET + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DEDICATION + + To Maria. + + May your name, that of one whose portrait is the noblest ornament + of this work, lie on its opening pages like a branch of sacred + box, taken from an unknown tree, but sanctified by religion, and + kept ever fresh and green by pious hands to bless the house. + + De Balzac. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>EUGENIE GRANDET</b> </a> + </h3> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII </a> + </p> + </td> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIV </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> ADDENDUM </a> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + EUGENIE GRANDET + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + There are houses in certain provincial towns whose aspect inspires + melancholy, akin to that called forth by sombre cloisters, dreary + moorlands, or the desolation of ruins. Within these houses there is, + perhaps, the silence of the cloister, the barrenness of moors, the + skeleton of ruins; life and movement are so stagnant there that a stranger + might think them uninhabited, were it not that he encounters suddenly the + pale, cold glance of a motionless person, whose half-monastic face peers + beyond the window-casing at the sound of an unaccustomed step. + </p> + <p> + Such elements of sadness formed the physiognomy, as it were, of a + dwelling-house in Saumur which stands at the end of the steep street + leading to the chateau in the upper part of the town. This street—now + little frequented, hot in summer, cold in winter, dark in certain sections—is + remarkable for the resonance of its little pebbly pavement, always clean + and dry, for the narrowness of its tortuous road-way, for the peaceful + stillness of its houses, which belong to the Old town and are over-topped + by the ramparts. Houses three centuries old are still solid, though built + of wood, and their divers aspects add to the originality which commends + this portion of Saumur to the attention of artists and antiquaries. + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to pass these houses without admiring the enormous oaken + beams, their ends carved into fantastic figures, which crown with a black + bas-relief the lower floor of most of them. In one place these transverse + timbers are covered with slate and mark a bluish line along the frail wall + of a dwelling covered by a roof <i>en colombage</i> which bends beneath + the weight of years, and whose rotting shingles are twisted by the + alternate action of sun and rain. In another place blackened, worn-out + window-sills, with delicate sculptures now scarcely discernible, seem too + weak to bear the brown clay pots from which springs the heart’s-ease or + the rose-bush of some poor working-woman. Farther on are doors studded + with enormous nails, where the genius of our forefathers has traced + domestic hieroglyphics, of which the meaning is now lost forever. Here a + Protestant attested his belief; there a Leaguer cursed Henry IV.; + elsewhere some bourgeois has carved the insignia of his <i>noblesse de + cloches</i>, symbols of his long-forgotten magisterial glory. The whole + history of France is there. + </p> + <p> + Next to a tottering house with roughly plastered walls, where an artisan + enshrines his tools, rises the mansion of a country gentleman, on the + stone arch of which above the door vestiges of armorial bearings may still + be seen, battered by the many revolutions that have shaken France since + 1789. In this hilly street the ground-floors of the merchants are neither + shops nor warehouses; lovers of the Middle Ages will here find the <i>ouvrouere</i> + of our forefathers in all its naive simplicity. These low rooms, which + have no shop-frontage, no show-windows, in fact no glass at all, are deep + and dark and without interior or exterior decoration. Their doors open in + two parts, each roughly iron-bound; the upper half is fastened back within + the room, the lower half, fitted with a spring-bell, swings continually to + and fro. Air and light reach the damp den within, either through the upper + half of the door, or through an open space between the ceiling and a low + front wall, breast-high, which is closed by solid shutters that are taken + down every morning, put up every evening, and held in place by heavy iron + bars. + </p> + <p> + This wall serves as a counter for the merchandise. No delusive display is + there; only samples of the business, whatever it may chance to be,—such, + for instance, as three or four tubs full of codfish and salt, a few + bundles of sail-cloth, cordage, copper wire hanging from the joists above, + iron hoops for casks ranged along the wall, or a few pieces of cloth upon + the shelves. Enter. A neat girl, glowing with youth, wearing a white + kerchief, her arms red and bare, drops her knitting and calls her father + or her mother, one of whom comes forward and sells you what you want, + phlegmatically, civilly, or arrogantly, according to his or her individual + character, whether it be a matter of two sous’ or twenty thousand francs’ + worth of merchandise. You may see a cooper, for instance, sitting in his + doorway and twirling his thumbs as he talks with a neighbor. To all + appearance he owns nothing more than a few miserable boat-ribs and two or + three bundles of laths; but below in the port his teeming wood-yard + supplies all the cooperage trade of Anjou. He knows to a plank how many + casks are needed if the vintage is good. A hot season makes him rich, a + rainy season ruins him; in a single morning puncheons worth eleven francs + have been known to drop to six. In this country, as in Touraine, + atmospheric vicissitudes control commercial life. Wine-growers, + proprietors, wood-merchants, coopers, inn-keepers, mariners, all keep + watch of the sun. They tremble when they go to bed lest they should hear + in the morning of a frost in the night; they dread rain, wind, drought, + and want water, heat, and clouds to suit their fancy. A perpetual duel + goes on between the heavens and their terrestrial interests. The barometer + smooths, saddens, or makes merry their countenances, turn and turn about. + From end to end of this street, formerly the Grand’Rue de Saumur, the + words: “Here’s golden weather,” are passed from door to door; or each man + calls to his neighbor: “It rains louis,” knowing well what a sunbeam or + the opportune rainfall is bringing him. + </p> + <p> + On Saturdays after midday, in the fine season, not one sou’s worth of + merchandise can be bought from these worthy traders. Each has his + vineyard, his enclosure of fields, and all spend two days in the country. + This being foreseen, and purchases, sales, and profits provided for, the + merchants have ten or twelve hours to spend in parties of pleasure, in + making observations, in criticisms, and in continual spying. A housewife + cannot buy a partridge without the neighbors asking the husband if it were + cooked to a turn. A young girl never puts her head near a window that she + is not seen by idling groups in the street. Consciences are held in the + light; and the houses, dark, silent, impenetrable as they seem, hide no + mysteries. Life is almost wholly in the open air; every household sits at + its own threshold, breakfasts, dines, and quarrels there. No one can pass + along the street without being examined; in fact formerly, when a stranger + entered a provincial town he was bantered and made game of from door to + door. From this came many good stories, and the nickname <i>copieux</i>, + which was applied to the inhabitants of Angers, who excelled in such urban + sarcasms. + </p> + <p> + The ancient mansions of the old town of Saumur are at the top of this + hilly street, and were formerly occupied by the nobility of the + neighborhood. The melancholy dwelling where the events of the following + history took place is one of these mansions,—venerable relics of a + century in which men and things bore the characteristics of simplicity + which French manners and customs are losing day by day. Follow the + windings of the picturesque thoroughfare, whose irregularities awaken + recollections that plunge the mind mechanically into reverie, and you will + see a somewhat dark recess, in the centre of which is hidden the door of + the house of Monsieur Grandet. It is impossible to understand the force of + this provincial expression—the house of Monsieur Grandet—without + giving the biography of Monsieur Grandet himself. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet enjoyed a reputation in Saumur whose causes and effects + can never be fully understood by those who have not, at one time or + another, lived in the provinces. In 1789 Monsieur Grandet—still + called by certain persons le Pere Grandet, though the number of such old + persons has perceptibly diminished—was a master-cooper, able to + read, write, and cipher. At the period when the French Republic offered + for sale the church property in the arrondissement of Saumur, the cooper, + then forty years of age, had just married the daughter of a rich + wood-merchant. Supplied with the ready money of his own fortune and his + wife’s <i>dot</i>, in all about two thousand louis-d’or, Grandet went to + the newly established “district,” where, with the help of two hundred + double louis given by his father-in-law to the surly republican who + presided over the sales of the national domain, he obtained for a song, + legally if not legitimately, one of the finest vineyards in the + arrondissement, an old abbey, and several farms. The inhabitants of Saumur + were so little revolutionary that they thought Pere Grandet a bold man, a + republican, and a patriot with a mind open to all the new ideas; though in + point of fact it was open only to vineyards. He was appointed a member of + the administration of Saumur, and his pacific influence made itself felt + politically and commercially. Politically, he protected the ci-devant + nobles, and prevented, to the extent of his power, the sale of the lands + and property of the <i>emigres</i>; commercially, he furnished the + Republican armies with two or three thousand puncheons of white wine, and + took his pay in splendid fields belonging to a community of women whose + lands had been reserved for the last lot. + </p> + <p> + Under the Consulate Grandet became mayor, governed wisely, and harvested + still better pickings. Under the Empire he was called Monsieur Grandet. + Napoleon, however, did not like republicans, and superseded Monsieur + Grandet (who was supposed to have worn the Phrygian cap) by a man of his + own surroundings, a future baron of the Empire. Monsieur Grandet quitted + office without regret. He had constructed in the interests of the town + certain fine roads which led to his own property; his house and lands, + very advantageously assessed, paid moderate taxes; and since the + registration of his various estates, the vineyards, thanks to his constant + care, had become the “head of the country,”—a local term used to + denote those that produced the finest quality of wine. He might have asked + for the cross of the Legion of honor. + </p> + <p> + This event occurred in 1806. Monsieur Grandet was then fifty-seven years + of age, his wife thirty-six, and an only daughter, the fruit of their + legitimate love, was ten years old. Monsieur Grandet, whom Providence no + doubt desired to compensate for the loss of his municipal honors, + inherited three fortunes in the course of this year,—that of Madame + de la Gaudiniere, born de la Bertelliere, the mother of Madame Grandet; + that of old Monsieur de la Bertelliere, her grandfather; and, lastly, that + of Madame Gentillet, her grandmother on the mother’s side: three + inheritances, whose amount was not known to any one. The avarice of the + deceased persons was so keen that for a long time they had hoarded their + money for the pleasure of secretly looking at it. Old Monsieur de la + Bertelliere called an investment an extravagance, and thought he got + better interest from the sight of his gold than from the profits of usury. + The inhabitants of Saumur consequently estimated his savings according to + “the revenues of the sun’s wealth,” as they said. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet thus obtained that modern title of nobility which our + mania for equality can never rub out. He became the most imposing + personage in the arrondissement. He worked a hundred acres of vineyard, + which in fruitful years yielded seven or eight hundred hogsheads of wine. + He owned thirteen farms, an old abbey, whose windows and arches he had + walled up for the sake of economy,—a measure which preserved them,—also + a hundred and twenty-seven acres of meadow-land, where three thousand + poplars, planted in 1793, grew and flourished; and finally, the house in + which he lived. Such was his visible estate; as to his other property, + only two persons could give even a vague guess at its value: one was + Monsieur Cruchot, a notary employed in the usurious investments of + Monsieur Grandet; the other was Monsieur des Grassins, the richest banker + in Saumur, in whose profits Grandet had a certain covenanted and secret + share. + </p> + <p> + Although old Cruchot and Monsieur des Grassins were both gifted with the + deep discretion which wealth and trust beget in the provinces, they + publicly testified so much respect to Monsieur Grandet that observers + estimated the amount of his property by the obsequious attention which + they bestowed upon him. In all Saumur there was no one not persuaded that + Monsieur Grandet had a private treasure, some hiding-place full of louis, + where he nightly took ineffable delight in gazing upon great masses of + gold. Avaricious people gathered proof of this when they looked at the + eyes of the good man, to which the yellow metal seemed to have conveyed + its tints. The glance of a man accustomed to draw enormous interest from + his capital acquires, like that of the libertine, the gambler, or the + sycophant, certain indefinable habits,—furtive, eager, mysterious + movements, which never escape the notice of his co-religionists. This + secret language is in a certain way the freemasonry of the passions. + Monsieur Grandet inspired the respectful esteem due to one who owed no man + anything, who, skilful cooper and experienced wine-grower that he was, + guessed with the precision of an astronomer whether he ought to + manufacture a thousand puncheons for his vintage, or only five hundred, + who never failed in any speculation, and always had casks for sale when + casks were worth more than the commodity that filled them, who could store + his whole vintage in his cellars and bide his time to put the puncheons on + the market at two hundred francs, when the little proprietors had been + forced to sell theirs for five louis. His famous vintage of 1811, + judiciously stored and slowly disposed of, brought him in more than two + hundred and forty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + Financially speaking, Monsieur Grandet was something between a tiger and a + boa-constrictor. He could crouch and lie low, watch his prey a long while, + spring upon it, open his jaws, swallow a mass of louis, and then rest + tranquilly like a snake in process of digestion, impassible, methodical, + and cold. No one saw him pass without a feeling of admiration mingled with + respect and fear; had not every man in Saumur felt the rending of those + polished steel claws? For this one, Maitre Cruchot had procured the money + required for the purchase of a domain, but at eleven per cent. For that + one, Monsieur des Grassins discounted bills of exchange, but at a + frightful deduction of interest. Few days ever passed that Monsieur + Grandet’s name was not mentioned either in the markets or in social + conversations at the evening gatherings. To some the fortune of the old + wine-grower was an object of patriotic pride. More than one merchant, more + than one innkeeper, said to strangers with a certain complacency: + “Monsieur, we have two or three millionaire establishments; but as for + Monsieur Grandet, he does not himself know how much he is worth.” + </p> + <p> + In 1816 the best reckoners in Saumur estimated the landed property of the + worthy man at nearly four millions; but as, on an average, he had made + yearly, from 1793 to 1817, a hundred thousand francs out of that property, + it was fair to presume that he possessed in actual money a sum nearly + equal to the value of his estate. So that when, after a game of boston or + an evening discussion on the matter of vines, the talk fell upon Monsieur + Grandet, knowing people said: “Le Pere Grandet? le Pere Grandet must have + at least five or six millions.” + </p> + <p> + “You are cleverer than I am; I have never been able to find out the + amount,” answered Monsieur Cruchot or Monsieur des Grassins, when either + chanced to overhear the remark. + </p> + <p> + If some Parisian mentioned Rothschild or Monsieur Lafitte, the people of + Saumur asked if he were as rich as Monsieur Grandet. When the Parisian, + with a smile, tossed them a disdainful affirmative, they looked at each + other and shook their heads with an incredulous air. So large a fortune + covered with a golden mantle all the actions of this man. If in early days + some peculiarities of his life gave occasion for laughter or ridicule, + laughter and ridicule had long since died away. His least important + actions had the authority of results repeatedly shown. His speech, his + clothing, his gestures, the blinking of his eyes, were law to the + country-side, where every one, after studying him as a naturalist studies + the result of instinct in the lower animals, had come to understand the + deep mute wisdom of his slightest actions. + </p> + <p> + “It will be a hard winter,” said one; “Pere Grandet has put on his fur + gloves.” + </p> + <p> + “Pere Grandet is buying quantities of staves; there will be plenty of wine + this year.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet never bought either bread or meat. His farmers supplied + him weekly with a sufficiency of capons, chickens, eggs, butter, and his + tithe of wheat. He owned a mill; and the tenant was bound, over and above + his rent, to take a certain quantity of grain and return him the flour and + bran. La Grande Nanon, his only servant, though she was no longer young, + baked the bread of the household herself every Saturday. Monsieur Grandet + arranged with kitchen-gardeners who were his tenants to supply him with + vegetables. As to fruits, he gathered such quantities that he sold the + greater part in the market. His fire-wood was cut from his own hedgerows + or taken from the half-rotten old sheds which he built at the corners of + his fields, and whose planks the farmers carted into town for him, all cut + up, and obligingly stacked in his wood-house, receiving in return his + thanks. His only known expenditures were for the consecrated bread, the + clothing of his wife and daughter, the hire of their chairs in church, the + wages of la Grand Nanon, the tinning of the saucepans, lights, taxes, + repairs on his buildings, and the costs of his various industries. He had + six hundred acres of woodland, lately purchased, which he induced a + neighbor’s keeper to watch, under the promise of an indemnity. After the + acquisition of this property he ate game for the first time. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet’s manners were very simple. He spoke little. He usually + expressed his meaning by short sententious phrases uttered in a soft + voice. After the Revolution, the epoch at which he first came into notice, + the good man stuttered in a wearisome way as soon as he was required to + speak at length or to maintain an argument. This stammering, the + incoherence of his language, the flux of words in which he drowned his + thought, his apparent lack of logic, attributed to defects of education, + were in reality assumed, and will be sufficiently explained by certain + events in the following history. Four sentences, precise as algebraic + formulas, sufficed him usually to grasp and solve all difficulties of life + and commerce: “I don’t know; I cannot; I will not; I will see about it.” + He never said yes, or no, and never committed himself to writing. If + people talked to him he listened coldly, holding his chin in his right + hand and resting his right elbow in the back of his left hand, forming in + his own mind opinions on all matters, from which he never receded. He + reflected long before making any business agreement. When his opponent, + after careful conversation, avowed the secret of his own purposes, + confident that he had secured his listener’s assent, Grandet answered: “I + can decide nothing without consulting my wife.” His wife, whom he had + reduced to a state of helpless slavery, was a useful screen to him in + business. He went nowhere among friends; he neither gave nor accepted + dinners; he made no stir or noise, seeming to economize in everything, + even movement. He never disturbed or disarranged the things of other + people, out of respect for the rights of property. Nevertheless, in spite + of his soft voice, in spite of his circumspect bearing, the language and + habits of a coarse nature came to the surface, especially in his own home, + where he controlled himself less than elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + Physically, Grandet was a man five feet high, thick-set, square-built, + with calves twelve inches in circumference, knotted knee-joints, and broad + shoulders; his face was round, tanned, and pitted by the small-pox; his + chin was straight, his lips had no curves, his teeth were white; his eyes + had that calm, devouring expression which people attribute to the + basilisk; his forehead, full of transverse wrinkles, was not without + certain significant protuberances; his yellow-grayish hair was said to be + silver and gold by certain young people who did not realize the + impropriety of making a jest about Monsieur Grandet. His nose, thick at + the end, bore a veined wen, which the common people said, not without + reason, was full of malice. The whole countenance showed a dangerous + cunning, an integrity without warmth, the egotism of a man long used to + concentrate every feeling upon the enjoyments of avarice and upon the only + human being who was anything whatever to him,—his daughter and sole + heiress, Eugenie. Attitude, manners, bearing, everything about him, in + short, testified to that belief in himself which the habit of succeeding + in all enterprises never fails to give to a man. + </p> + <p> + Thus, though his manners were unctuous and soft outwardly, Monsieur + Grandet’s nature was of iron. His dress never varied; and those who saw + him to-day saw him such as he had been since 1791. His stout shoes were + tied with leathern thongs; he wore, in all weathers, thick woollen + stockings, short breeches of coarse maroon cloth with silver buckles, a + velvet waistcoat, in alternate stripes of yellow and puce, buttoned + squarely, a large maroon coat with wide flaps, a black cravat, and a + quaker’s hat. His gloves, thick as those of a gendarme, lasted him twenty + months; to preserve them, he always laid them methodically on the brim of + his hat in one particular spot. Saumur knew nothing further about this + personage. + </p> + <p> + Only six individuals had a right of entrance to Monsieur Grandet’s house. + The most important of the first three was a nephew of Monsieur Cruchot. + Since his appointment as president of the Civil courts of Saumur this + young man had added the name of Bonfons to that of Cruchot. He now signed + himself C. de Bonfons. Any litigant so ill-advised as to call him Monsieur + Cruchot would soon be made to feel his folly in court. The magistrate + protected those who called him Monsieur le president, but he favored with + gracious smiles those who addressed him as Monsieur de Bonfons. Monsieur + le president was thirty-three years old, and possessed the estate of + Bonfons (Boni Fontis), worth seven thousand francs a year; he expected to + inherit the property of his uncle the notary and that of another uncle, + the Abbe Cruchot, a dignitary of the chapter of Saint-Martin de Tours, + both of whom were thought to be very rich. These three Cruchots, backed by + a goodly number of cousins, and allied to twenty families in the town, + formed a party, like the Medici in Florence; like the Medici, the Cruchots + had their Pazzi. + </p> + <p> + Madame des Grassins, mother of a son twenty-three years of age, came + assiduously to play cards with Madame Grandet, hoping to marry her dear + Adolphe to Mademoiselle Eugenie. Monsieur des Grassins, the banker, + vigorously promoted the schemes of his wife by means of secret services + constantly rendered to the old miser, and always arrived in time upon the + field of battle. The three des Grassins likewise had their adherents, + their cousins, their faithful allies. On the Cruchot side the abbe, the + Talleyrand of the family, well backed-up by his brother the notary, + sharply contested every inch of ground with his female adversary, and + tried to obtain the rich heiress for his nephew the president. + </p> + <p> + This secret warfare between the Cruchots and des Grassins, the prize + thereof being the hand in marriage of Eugenie Grandet, kept the various + social circles of Saumur in violent agitation. Would Mademoiselle Grandet + marry Monsieur le president or Monsieur Adolphe des Grassins? To this + problem some replied that Monsieur Grandet would never give his daughter + to the one or to the other. The old cooper, eaten up with ambition, was + looking, they said, for a peer of France, to whom an income of three + hundred thousand francs would make all the past, present, and future casks + of the Grandets acceptable. Others replied that Monsieur and Madame des + Grassins were nobles, and exceedingly rich; that Adolphe was a personable + young fellow; and that unless the old man had a nephew of the pope at his + beck and call, such a suitable alliance ought to satisfy a man who came + from nothing,—a man whom Saumur remembered with an adze in his hand, + and who had, moreover, worn the <i>bonnet rouge</i>. Certain wise heads + called attention to the fact that Monsieur Cruchot de Bonfons had the + right of entry to the house at all times, whereas his rival was received + only on Sundays. Others, however, maintained that Madame des Grassins was + more intimate with the women of the house of Grandet than the Cruchots + were, and could put into their minds certain ideas which would lead, + sooner or later, to success. To this the former retorted that the Abbe + Cruchot was the most insinuating man in the world: pit a woman against a + monk, and the struggle was even. “It is diamond cut diamond,” said a + Saumur wit. + </p> + <p> + The oldest inhabitants, wiser than their fellows, declared that the + Grandets knew better than to let the property go out of the family, and + that Mademoiselle Eugenie Grandet of Saumur would be married to the son of + Monsieur Grandet of Paris, a wealthy wholesale wine-merchant. To this the + Cruchotines and the Grassinists replied: “In the first place, the two + brothers have seen each other only twice in thirty years; and next, + Monsieur Grandet of Paris has ambitious designs for his son. He is mayor + of an arrondissement, a deputy, colonel of the National Guard, judge in + the commercial courts; he disowns the Grandets of Saumur, and means to + ally himself with some ducal family,—ducal under favor of Napoleon.” + In short, was there anything not said of an heiress who was talked of + through a circumference of fifty miles, and even in the public conveyances + from Angers to Blois, inclusively! + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of 1811, the Cruchotines won a signal advantage over the + Grassinists. The estate of Froidfond, remarkable for its park, its + mansion, its farms, streams, ponds, forests, and worth about three + millions, was put up for sale by the young Marquis de Froidfond, who was + obliged to liquidate his possessions. Maitre Cruchot, the president, and + the abbe, aided by their adherents, were able to prevent the sale of the + estate in little lots. The notary concluded a bargain with the young man + for the whole property, payable in gold, persuading him that suits without + number would have to be brought against the purchasers of small lots + before he could get the money for them; it was better, therefore, to sell + the whole to Monsieur Grandet, who was solvent and able to pay for the + estate in ready money. The fine marquisate of Froidfond was accordingly + conveyed down the gullet of Monsieur Grandet, who, to the great + astonishment of Saumur, paid for it, under proper discount, with the usual + formalities. + </p> + <p> + This affair echoed from Nantes to Orleans. Monsieur Grandet took advantage + of a cart returning by way of Froidfond to go and see his chateau. Having + cast a master’s eye over the whole property, he returned to Saumur, + satisfied that he had invested his money at five per cent, and seized by + the stupendous thought of extending and increasing the marquisate of + Froidfond by concentrating all his property there. Then, to fill up his + coffers, now nearly empty, he resolved to thin out his woods and his + forests, and to sell off the poplars in the meadows. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + It is now easy to understand the full meaning of the term, “the house of + Monsieur Grandet,”—that cold, silent, pallid dwelling, standing + above the town and sheltered by the ruins of the ramparts. The two pillars + and the arch, which made the porte-cochere on which the door opened, were + built, like the house itself, of tufa,—a white stone peculiar to the + shores of the Loire, and so soft that it lasts hardly more than two + centuries. Numberless irregular holes, capriciously bored or eaten out by + the inclemency of the weather, gave an appearance of the vermiculated + stonework of French architecture to the arch and the side walls of this + entrance, which bore some resemblance to the gateway of a jail. Above the + arch was a long bas-relief, in hard stone, representing the four seasons, + the faces already crumbling away and blackened. This bas-relief was + surmounted by a projecting plinth, upon which a variety of chance growths + had sprung up,—yellow pellitory, bindweed, convolvuli, nettles, + plantain, and even a little cherry-tree, already grown to some height. + </p> + <p> + The door of the archway was made of solid oak, brown, shrunken, and split + in many places; though frail in appearance, it was firmly held in place by + a system of iron bolts arranged in symmetrical patterns. A small square + grating, with close bars red with rust, filled up the middle panel and + made, as it were, a motive for the knocker, fastened to it by a ring, + which struck upon the grinning head of a huge nail. This knocker, of the + oblong shape and kind which our ancestors called <i>jaquemart</i>, looked + like a huge note of exclamation; an antiquary who examined it attentively + might have found indications of the figure, essentially burlesque, which + it once represented, and which long usage had now effaced. Through this + little grating—intended in olden times for the recognition of + friends in times of civil war—inquisitive persons could perceive, at + the farther end of the dark and slimy vault, a few broken steps which led + to a garden, picturesquely shut in by walls that were thick and damp, and + through which oozed a moisture that nourished tufts of sickly herbage. + These walls were the ruins of the ramparts, under which ranged the gardens + of several neighboring houses. + </p> + <p> + The most important room on the ground-floor of the house was a large hall, + entered directly from beneath the vault of the porte-cochere. Few people + know the importance of a hall in the little towns of Anjou, Touraine, and + Berry. The hall is at one and the same time antechamber, salon, office, + boudoir, and dining-room; it is the theatre of domestic life, the common + living-room. There the barber of the neighborhood came, twice a year, to + cut Monsieur Grandet’s hair; there the farmers, the cure, the + under-prefect, and the miller’s boy came on business. This room, with two + windows looking on the street, was entirely of wood. Gray panels with + ancient mouldings covered the walls from top to bottom; the ceiling showed + all its beams, which were likewise painted gray, while the space between + them had been washed over in white, now yellow with age. An old brass + clock, inlaid with arabesques, adorned the mantel of the ill-cut white + stone chimney-piece, above which was a greenish mirror, whose edges, + bevelled to show the thickness of the glass, reflected a thread of light + the whole length of a gothic frame in damascened steel-work. The two + copper-gilt candelabra which decorated the corners of the chimney-piece + served a double purpose: by taking off the side-branches, each of which + held a socket, the main stem—which was fastened to a pedestal of + bluish marble tipped with copper—made a candlestick for one candle, + which was sufficient for ordinary occasions. The chairs, antique in shape, + were covered with tapestry representing the fables of La Fontaine; it was + necessary, however, to know that writer well to guess at the subjects, for + the faded colors and the figures, blurred by much darning, were difficult + to distinguish. + </p> + <p> + At the four corners of the hall were closets, or rather buffets, + surmounted by dirty shelves. An old card-table in marquetry, of which the + upper part was a chess-board, stood in the space between the two windows. + Above this table was an oval barometer with a black border enlivened with + gilt bands, on which the flies had so licentiously disported themselves + that the gilding had become problematical. On the panel opposite to the + chimney-piece were two portraits in pastel, supposed to represent the + grandfather of Madame Grandet, old Monsieur de la Bertelliere, as a + lieutenant in the French guard, and the deceased Madame Gentillet in the + guise of a shepherdess. The windows were draped with curtains of red <i>gros + de Tours</i> held back by silken cords with ecclesiastical tassels. This + luxurious decoration, little in keeping with the habits of Monsieur + Grandet, had been, together with the steel pier-glass, the tapestries, and + the buffets, which were of rose-wood, included in the purchase of the + house. + </p> + <p> + By the window nearest to the door stood a straw chair, whose legs were + raised on castors to lift its occupant, Madame Grandet, to a height from + which she could see the passers-by. A work-table of stained cherry-wood + filled up the embrasure, and the little armchair of Eugenie Grandet stood + beside it. In this spot the lives had flowed peacefully onward for fifteen + years, in a round of constant work from the month of April to the month of + November. On the first day of the latter month they took their winter + station by the chimney. Not until that day did Grandet permit a fire to be + lighted; and on the thirty-first of March it was extinguished, without + regard either to the chills of the early spring or to those of a wintry + autumn. A foot-warmer, filled with embers from the kitchen fire, which la + Grande Nanon contrived to save for them, enabled Madame and Mademoiselle + Grandet to bear the chilly mornings and evenings of April and October. + Mother and daughter took charge of the family linen, and spent their days + so conscientiously upon a labor properly that of working-women, that if + Eugenie wished to embroider a collar for her mother she was forced to take + the time from sleep, and deceive her father to obtain the necessary light. + For a long time the miser had given out the tallow candle to his daughter + and la Grande Nanon just as he gave out every morning the bread and other + necessaries for the daily consumption. + </p> + <p> + La Grande Nanon was perhaps the only human being capable of accepting + willingly the despotism of her master. The whole town envied Monsieur and + Madame Grandet the possession of her. La Grande Nanon, so called on + account of her height, which was five feet eight inches, had lived with + Monsieur Grandet for thirty-five years. Though she received only sixty + francs a year in wages, she was supposed to be one of the richest + serving-women in Saumur. Those sixty francs, accumulating through + thirty-five years, had recently enabled her to invest four thousand francs + in an annuity with Maitre Cruchot. This result of her long and persistent + economy seemed gigantic. Every servant in the town, seeing that the poor + sexagenarian was sure of bread for her old age, was jealous of her, and + never thought of the hard slavery through which it had been won. + </p> + <p> + At twenty-two years of age the poor girl had been unable to find a + situation, so repulsive was her face to almost every one. Yet the feeling + was certainly unjust: the face would have been much admired on the + shoulders of a grenadier of the guard; but all things, so they say, should + be in keeping. Forced to leave a farm where she kept the cows, because the + dwelling-house was burned down, she came to Saumur to find a place, full + of the robust courage that shrinks from no labor. Le Pere Grandet was at + that time thinking of marriage and about to set up his household. He + espied the girl, rejected as she was from door to door. A good judge of + corporeal strength in his trade as a cooper, he guessed the work that + might be got out of a female creature shaped like a Hercules, as firm on + her feet as an oak sixty years old on its roots, strong in the hips, + square in the back, with the hands of a cartman and an honesty as sound as + her unblemished virtue. Neither the warts which adorned her martial + visage, nor the red-brick tints of her skin, nor the sinewy arms, nor the + ragged garments of la Grande Nanon, dismayed the cooper, who was at that + time still of an age when the heart shudders. He fed, shod, and clothed + the poor girl, gave her wages, and put her to work without treating her + too roughly. Seeing herself thus welcomed, la Grande Nanon wept secretly + tears of joy, and attached herself in all sincerity to her master, who + from that day ruled her and worked her with feudal authority. Nanon did + everything. She cooked, she made the lye, she washed the linen in the + Loire and brought it home on her shoulders; she got up early, she went to + bed late; she prepared the food of the vine-dressers during the harvest, + kept watch upon the market-people, protected the property of her master + like a faithful dog, and even, full of blind confidence, obeyed without a + murmur his most absurd exactions. + </p> + <p> + In the famous year of 1811, when the grapes were gathered with unheard-of + difficulty, Grandet resolved to give Nanon his old watch,—the first + present he had made her during twenty years of service. Though he turned + over to her his old shoes (which fitted her), it is impossible to consider + that quarterly benefit as a gift, for the shoes were always thoroughly + worn-out. Necessity had made the poor girl so niggardly that Grandet had + grown to love her as we love a dog, and Nanon had let him fasten a spiked + collar round her throat, whose spikes no longer pricked her. If Grandet + cut the bread with rather too much parsimony, she made no complaint; she + gaily shared the hygienic benefits derived from the severe regime of the + household, in which no one was ever ill. Nanon was, in fact, one of the + family; she laughed when Grandet laughed, felt gloomy or chilly, warmed + herself, and toiled as he did. What pleasant compensations there were in + such equality! Never did the master have occasion to find fault with the + servant for pilfering the grapes, nor for the plums and nectarines eaten + under the trees. “Come, fall-to, Nanon!” he would say in years when the + branches bent under the fruit and the farmers were obliged to give it to + the pigs. + </p> + <p> + To the poor peasant who in her youth had earned nothing but harsh + treatment, to the pauper girl picked up by charity, Grandet’s ambiguous + laugh was like a sunbeam. Moreover, Nanon’s simple heart and narrow head + could hold only one feeling and one idea. For thirty-five years she had + never ceased to see herself standing before the wood-yard of Monsieur + Grandet, ragged and barefooted, and to hear him say: “What do you want, + young one?” Her gratitude was ever new. Sometimes Grandet, reflecting that + the poor creature had never heard a flattering word, that she was ignorant + of all the tender sentiments inspired by women, that she might some day + appear before the throne of God even more chaste than the Virgin Mary + herself,—Grandet, struck with pity, would say as he looked at her, + “Poor Nanon!” The exclamation was always followed by an undefinable look + cast upon him in return by the old servant. The words, uttered from time + to time, formed a chain of friendship that nothing ever parted, and to + which each exclamation added a link. Such compassion arising in the heart + of the miser, and accepted gratefully by the old spinster, had something + inconceivably horrible about it. This cruel pity, recalling, as it did, a + thousand pleasures to the heart of the old cooper, was for Nanon the sum + total of happiness. Who does not likewise say, “Poor Nanon!” God will + recognize his angels by the inflexions of their voices and by their secret + sighs. + </p> + <p> + There were very many households in Saumur where the servants were better + treated, but where the masters received far less satisfaction in return. + Thus it was often said: “What have the Grandets ever done to make their + Grande Nanon so attached to them? She would go through fire and water for + their sake!” Her kitchen, whose barred windows looked into the court, was + always clean, neat, cold,—a true miser’s kitchen, where nothing went + to waste. When Nanon had washed her dishes, locked up the remains of the + dinner, and put out her fire, she left the kitchen, which was separated by + a passage from the living-room, and went to spin hemp beside her masters. + One tallow candle sufficed the family for the evening. The servant slept + at the end of the passage in a species of closet lighted only by a + fan-light. Her robust health enabled her to live in this hole with + impunity; there she could hear the slightest noise through the deep + silence which reigned night and day in that dreary house. Like a + watch-dog, she slept with one ear open, and took her rest with a mind + alert. + </p> + <p> + A description of the other parts of the dwelling will be found connected + with the events of this history, though the foregoing sketch of the hall, + where the whole luxury of the household appears, may enable the reader to + surmise the nakedness of the upper floors. + </p> + <p> + In 1819, at the beginning of an evening in the middle of November, la + Grande Nanon lighted the fire for the first time. The autumn had been very + fine. This particular day was a fete-day well known to the Cruchotines and + the Grassinists. The six antagonists, armed at all points, were making + ready to meet at the Grandets and surpass each other in testimonials of + friendship. That morning all Saumur had seen Madame and Mademoiselle + Grandet, accompanied by Nanon, on their way to hear Mass at the parish + church, and every one remembered that the day was the anniversary of + Mademoiselle Eugenie’s birth. Calculating the hour at which the family + dinner would be over, Maitre Cruchot, the Abbe Cruchot, and Monsieur C. de + Bonfons hastened to arrive before the des Grassins, and be the first to + pay their compliments to Mademoiselle Eugenie. All three brought enormous + bouquets, gathered in their little green-houses. The stalks of the flowers + which the president intended to present were ingeniously wound round with + a white satin ribbon adorned with gold fringe. In the morning Monsieur + Grandet, following his usual custom on the days that commemorated the + birth and the fete of Eugenie, went to her bedside and solemnly presented + her with his paternal gift,—which for the last thirteen years had + consisted regularly of a curious gold-piece. Madame Grandet gave her + daughter a winter dress or a summer dress, as the case might be. These two + dresses and the gold-pieces, of which she received two others on New + Year’s day and on her father’s fete-day, gave Eugenie a little revenue of + a hundred crowns or thereabouts, which Grandet loved to see her amass. Was + it not putting his money from one strong-box to another, and, as it were, + training the parsimony of his heiress? from whom he sometimes demanded an + account of her treasure (formerly increased by the gifts of the + Bertellieres), saying: “It is to be your marriage dozen.” + </p> + <p> + The “marriage dozen” is an old custom sacredly preserved and still in + force in many parts of central France. In Berry and in Anjou, when a young + girl marries, her family, or that of the husband, must give her a purse, + in which they place, according to their means, twelve pieces, or twelve + dozen pieces, or twelve hundred pieces of gold. The poorest shepherd-girl + never marries without her dozen, be it only a dozen coppers. They still + tell in Issoudun of a certain “dozen” presented to a rich heiress, which + contained a hundred and forty-four <i>portugaises d’or</i>. Pope Clement + VII., uncle of Catherine de’ Medici, gave her when he married her to Henri + II. a dozen antique gold medals of priceless value. + </p> + <p> + During dinner the father, delighted to see his Eugenie looking well in a + new gown, exclaimed: “As it is Eugenie’s birthday let us have a fire; it + will be a good omen.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle will be married this year, that’s certain,” said la Grande + Nanon, carrying away the remains of the goose,—the pheasant of + tradesmen. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see any one suitable for her in Saumur,” said Madame Grandet, + glancing at her husband with a timid look which, considering her years, + revealed the conjugal slavery under which the poor woman languished. + </p> + <p> + Grandet looked at his daughter and exclaimed gaily,— + </p> + <p> + “She is twenty-three years old to-day, the child; we must soon begin to + think of it.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie and her mother silently exchanged a glance of intelligence. + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet was a dry, thin woman, as yellow as a quince, awkward, + slow, one of those women who are born to be down-trodden. She had big + bones, a big nose, a big forehead, big eyes, and presented at first sight + a vague resemblance to those mealy fruits that have neither savor nor + succulence. Her teeth were black and few in number, her mouth was + wrinkled, her chin long and pointed. She was an excellent woman, a true la + Bertelliere. L’abbe Cruchot found occasional opportunity to tell her that + she had not done ill; and she believed him. Angelic sweetness, the + resignation of an insect tortured by children, a rare piety, a good heart, + an unalterable equanimity of soul, made her universally pitied and + respected. Her husband never gave her more than six francs at a time for + her personal expenses. Ridiculous as it may seem, this woman, who by her + own fortune and her various inheritances brought Pere Grandet more than + three hundred thousand francs, had always felt so profoundly humiliated by + her dependence and the slavery in which she lived, against which the + gentleness of her spirit prevented her from revolting, that she had never + asked for one penny or made a single remark on the deeds which Maitre + Cruchot brought for her signature. This foolish secret pride, this + nobility of soul perpetually misunderstood and wounded by Grandet, ruled + the whole conduct of the wife. + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet was attired habitually in a gown of greenish levantine + silk, endeavoring to make it last nearly a year; with it she wore a large + kerchief of white cotton cloth, a bonnet made of plaited straws sewn + together, and almost always a black-silk apron. As she seldom left the + house she wore out very few shoes. She never asked anything for herself. + Grandet, seized with occasional remorse when he remembered how long a time + had elapsed since he gave her the last six francs, always stipulated for + the “wife’s pin-money” when he sold his yearly vintage. The four or five + louis presented by the Belgian or the Dutchman who purchased the wine were + the chief visible signs of Madame Grandet’s annual revenues. But after she + had received the five louis, her husband would often say to her, as though + their purse were held in common: “Can you lend me a few sous?” and the + poor woman, glad to be able to do something for a man whom her confessor + held up to her as her lord and master, returned him in the course of the + winter several crowns out of the “pin-money.” When Grandet drew from his + pocket the five-franc piece which he allowed monthly for the minor + expenses,—thread, needles, and toilet,—of his daughter, he + never failed to say as he buttoned his breeches’ pocket: “And you, mother, + do you want anything?” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” Madame Grandet would answer, moved by a sense of maternal + dignity, “we will see about that later.” + </p> + <p> + Wasted dignity! Grandet thought himself very generous to his wife. + Philosophers who meet the like of Nanon, of Madame Grandet, of Eugenie, + have surely a right to say that irony is at the bottom of the ways of + Providence. + </p> + <p> + After the dinner at which for the first time allusion had been made to + Eugenie’s marriage, Nanon went to fetch a bottle of black-currant ratafia + from Monsieur Grandet’s bed-chamber, and nearly fell as she came down the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “You great stupid!” said her master; “are you going to tumble about like + other people, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it was that step on your staircase which has given way.” + </p> + <p> + “She is right,” said Madame Grandet; “it ought to have been mended long + ago. Yesterday Eugenie nearly twisted her ankle.” + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Grandet to Nanon, seeing that she looked quite pale, “as it + is Eugenie’s birthday, and you came near falling, take a little glass of + ratafia to set you right.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith! I’ve earned it,” said Nanon; “most people would have broken the + bottle; but I’d sooner have broken my elbow holding it up high.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Nanon!” said Grandet, filling a glass. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hurt yourself?” asked Eugenie, looking kindly at her. + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t fall; I threw myself back on my haunches.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! as it is Eugenie’s birthday,” said Grandet, “I’ll have the step + mended. You people don’t know how to set your foot in the corner where the + wood is still firm.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet took the candle, leaving his wife, daughter, and servant without + any other light than that from the hearth, where the flames were lively, + and went into the bakehouse to fetch planks, nails, and tools. + </p> + <p> + “Can I help you?” cried Nanon, hearing him hammer on the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I’m an old hand at it,” answered the former cooper. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when Grandet was mending his worm-eaten staircase and + whistling with all his might, in remembrance of the days of his youth, the + three Cruchots knocked at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Monsieur Cruchot?” asked Nanon, peeping through the little + grating. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the president. + </p> + <p> + Nanon opened the door, and the light from the hearth, reflected on the + ceiling, enabled the three Cruchots to find their way into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you’ve come a-greeting,” said Nanon, smelling the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, messieurs,” cried Grandet, recognizing their voices; “I’ll be + with you in a moment. I’m not proud; I am patching up a step on my + staircase.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, go on, Monsieur Grandet; a man’s house is his castle,” said the + president sententiously. + </p> + <p> + Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet rose. The president, profiting by the + darkness, said to Eugenie: + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me, mademoiselle, to wish you, on this the day of your + birth, a series of happy years and the continuance of the health which you + now enjoy?” + </p> + <p> + He offered her a huge bouquet of choice flowers which were rare in Saumur; + then, taking the heiress by the elbows, he kissed her on each side of her + neck with a complacency that made her blush. The president, who looked + like a rusty iron nail, felt that his courtship was progressing. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t stand on ceremony,” said Grandet, entering. “How well you do things + on fete-days, Monsieur le president!” + </p> + <p> + “When it concerns mademoiselle,” said the abbe, armed with his own + bouquet, “every day is a fete-day for my nephew.” + </p> + <p> + The abbe kissed Eugenie’s hand. As for Maitre Cruchot, he boldly kissed + her on both cheeks, remarking: “How we sprout up, to be sure! Every year + is twelve months.” + </p> + <p> + As he replaced the candlestick beside the clock, Grandet, who never forgot + his own jokes, and repeated them to satiety when he thought them funny, + said,— + </p> + <p> + “As this is Eugenie’s birthday let us illuminate.” + </p> + <p> + He carefully took off the branches of the candelabra, put a socket on each + pedestal, took from Nanon a new tallow candle with paper twisted round the + end of it, put it into the hollow, made it firm, lit it, and then sat down + beside his wife, looking alternately at his friends, his daughter, and the + two candles. The Abbe Cruchot, a plump, puffy little man, with a red wig + plastered down and a face like an old female gambler, said as he stretched + out his feet, well shod in stout shoes with silver buckles: “The des + Grassins have not come?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” said Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “But are they coming?” asked the old notary, twisting his face, which had + as many holes as a collander, into a queer grimace. + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” answered Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Are your vintages all finished?” said Monsieur de Bonfons to Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all of them,” said the old man, rising to walk up and down the room, + his chest swelling with pride as he said the words, “all of them.” Through + the door of the passage which led to the kitchen he saw la Grande Nanon + sitting beside her fire with a candle and preparing to spin there, so as + not to intrude among the guests. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon,” he said, going into the passage, “put out that fire and that + candle, and come and sit with us. Pardieu! the hall is big enough for + all.” + </p> + <p> + “But monsieur, you are to have the great people.” + </p> + <p> + “Are not you as good as they? They are descended from Adam, and so are + you.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet came back to the president and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Have you sold your vintage?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not I; I shall keep it. If the wine is good this year, it will be + better two years hence. The proprietors, you know, have made an agreement + to keep up the price; and this year the Belgians won’t get the better of + us. Suppose they are sent off empty-handed for once, faith! they’ll come + back.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but let us mind what we are about,” said Grandet in a tone which + made the president tremble. + </p> + <p> + “Is he driving some bargain?” thought Cruchot. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the knocker announced the des Grassins family, and their + arrival interrupted a conversation which had begun between Madame Grandet + and the abbe. + </p> + <p> + Madame des Grassins was one of those lively, plump little women, with + pink-and-white skins, who, thanks to the claustral calm of the provinces + and the habits of a virtuous life, keep their youth until they are past + forty. She was like the last rose of autumn,—pleasant to the eye, + though the petals have a certain frostiness, and their perfume is slight. + She dressed well, got her fashions from Paris, set the tone to Saumur, and + gave parties. Her husband, formerly a quartermaster in the Imperial guard, + who had been desperately wounded at Austerlitz, and had since retired, + still retained, in spite of his respect for Grandet, the seeming frankness + of an old soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Grandet,” he said, holding out his hand and affecting a + sort of superiority, with which he always crushed the Cruchots. + “Mademoiselle,” he added, turning to Eugenie, after bowing to Madame + Grandet, “you are always beautiful and good, and truly I do not know what + to wish you.” So saying, he offered her a little box which his servant had + brought and which contained a Cape heather,—a flower lately imported + into Europe and very rare. + </p> + <p> + Madame des Grassins kissed Eugenie very affectionately, pressed her hand, + and said: “Adolphe wishes to make you my little offering.” + </p> + <p> + A tall, blond young man, pale and slight, with tolerable manners and + seemingly rather shy, although he had just spent eight or ten thousand + francs over his allowance in Paris, where he had been sent to study law, + now came forward and kissed Eugenie on both cheeks, offering her a workbox + with utensils in silver-gilt,—mere show-case trumpery, in spite of + the monogram E.G. in gothic letters rather well engraved, which belonged + properly to something in better taste. As she opened it, Eugenie + experienced one of those unexpected and perfect delights which make a + young girl blush and quiver and tremble with pleasure. She turned her eyes + to her father as if to ask permission to accept it, and Monsieur Grandet + replied: “Take it, my daughter,” in a tone which would have made an actor + illustrious. + </p> + <p> + The three Cruchots felt crushed as they saw the joyous, animated look cast + upon Adolphe des Grassins by the heiress, to whom such riches were + unheard-of. Monsieur des Grassins offered Grandet a pinch of snuff, took + one himself, shook off the grains as they fell on the ribbon of the Legion + of honor which was attached to the button-hole of his blue surtout; then + he looked at the Cruchots with an air that seemed to say, “Parry that + thrust if you can!” Madame des Grassins cast her eyes on the blue vases + which held the Cruchot bouquets, looking at the enemy’s gifts with the + pretended interest of a satirical woman. At this delicate juncture the + Abbe Cruchot left the company seated in a circle round the fire and joined + Grandet at the lower end of the hall. As the two men reached the embrasure + of the farthest window the priest said in the miser’s ear: “Those people + throw money out of the windows.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter if it gets into my cellar?” retorted the old + wine-grower. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to give gilt scissors to your daughter, you have the means,” + said the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “I give her something better than scissors,” answered Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew is a blockhead,” thought the abbe as he looked at the + president, whose rumpled hair added to the ill grace of his brown + countenance. “Couldn’t he have found some little trifle which cost money?” + </p> + <p> + “We will join you at cards, Madame Grandet,” said Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + “We might have two tables, as we are all here.” + </p> + <p> + “As it is Eugenie’s birthday you had better play loto all together,” said + Pere Grandet: “the two young ones can join”; and the old cooper, who never + played any game, motioned to his daughter and Adolphe. “Come, Nanon, set + the tables.” + </p> + <p> + “We will help you, Mademoiselle Nanon,” said Madame des Grassins gaily, + quite joyous at the joy she had given Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “I have never in my life been so pleased,” the heiress said to her; “I + have never seen anything so pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “Adolphe brought it from Paris, and he chose it,” Madame des Grassins + whispered in her ear. + </p> + <p> + “Go on! go on! damned intriguing thing!” thought the president. “If you + ever have a suit in court, you or your husband, it shall go hard with + you.” + </p> + <p> + The notary, sitting in his corner, looked calmly at the abbe, saying to + himself: “The des Grassins may do what they like; my property and my + brother’s and that of my nephew amount in all to eleven hundred thousand + francs. The des Grassins, at the most, have not half that; besides, they + have a daughter. They may give what presents they like; heiress and + presents too will be ours one of these days.” + </p> + <p> + At half-past eight in the evening the two card-tables were set out. Madame + des Grassins succeeded in putting her son beside Eugenie. The actors in + this scene, so full of interest, commonplace as it seems, were provided + with bits of pasteboard striped in many colors and numbered, and with + counters of blue glass, and they appeared to be listening to the jokes of + the notary, who never drew a number without making a remark, while in fact + they were all thinking of Monsieur Grandet’s millions. The old cooper, + with inward self-conceit, was contemplating the pink feathers and the + fresh toilet of Madame des Grassins, the martial head of the banker, the + faces of Adolphe, the president, the abbe, and the notary, saying to + himself:— + </p> + <p> + “They are all after my money. Hey! neither the one nor the other shall + have my daughter; but they are useful—useful as harpoons to fish + with.” + </p> + <p> + This family gaiety in the old gray room dimly lighted by two tallow + candles; this laughter, accompanied by the whirr of Nanon’s + spinning-wheel, sincere only upon the lips of Eugenie or her mother; this + triviality mingled with important interests; this young girl, who, like + certain birds made victims of the price put upon them, was now lured and + trapped by proofs of friendship of which she was the dupe,—all these + things contributed to make the scene a melancholy comedy. Is it not, + moreover, a drama of all times and all places, though here brought down to + its simplest expression? The figure of Grandet, playing his own game with + the false friendship of the two families and getting enormous profits from + it, dominates the scene and throws light upon it. The modern god,—the + only god in whom faith is preserved,—money, is here, in all its + power, manifested in a single countenance. The tender sentiments of life + hold here but a secondary place; only the three pure, simple hearts of + Nanon, of Eugenie, and of her mother were inspired by them. And how much + of ignorance there was in the simplicity of these poor women! Eugenie and + her mother knew nothing of Grandet’s wealth; they could only estimate the + things of life by the glimmer of their pale ideas, and they neither valued + nor despised money, because they were accustomed to do without it. Their + feelings, bruised, though they did not know it, but ever-living, were the + secret spring of their existence, and made them curious exceptions in the + midst of these other people whose lives were purely material. Frightful + condition of the human race! there is no one of its joys that does not + come from some species of ignorance. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when Madame Grandet had won a loto of sixteen sous,—the + largest ever pooled in that house,—and while la Grande Nanon was + laughing with delight as she watched madame pocketing her riches, the + knocker resounded on the house-door with such a noise that the women all + jumped in their chairs. + </p> + <p> + “There is no man in Saumur who would knock like that,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + “How can they bang in that way!” exclaimed Nanon; “do they want to break + in the door?” + </p> + <p> + “Who the devil is it?” cried Grandet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Nanon took one of the candles and went to open the door, followed by her + master. + </p> + <p> + “Grandet! Grandet!” cried his wife, moved by a sudden impulse of fear, and + running to the door of the room. + </p> + <p> + All the players looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we all go?” said Monsieur des Grassins; “that knock strikes me as + evil-intentioned.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly was Monsieur des Grassins allowed to see the figure of a young man, + accompanied by a porter from the coach-office carrying two large trunks + and dragging a carpet-bag after him, than Monsieur Grandet turned roughly + on his wife and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Madame Grandet, go back to your loto; leave me to speak with monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Then he pulled the door quickly to, and the excited players returned to + their seats, but did not continue the game. + </p> + <p> + “Is it any one belonging to Saumur, Monsieur des Grassins?” asked his + wife. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is a traveller.” + </p> + <p> + “He must have come from Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said the notary, pulling out his watch, which was two inches + thick and looked like a Dutch man-of-war; “it’s nine o’clock; the + diligence of the Grand Bureau is never late.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the gentleman young?” inquired the Abbe Cruchot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Monsieur des Grassins, “and he has brought luggage which + must weigh nearly three tons.” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon does not come back,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “It must be one of your relations,” remarked the president. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go on with our game,” said Madame Grandet gently. “I know from + Monsieur Grandet’s tone of voice that he is annoyed; perhaps he would not + like to find us talking of his affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” said Adolphe to his neighbor, “it is no doubt your cousin + Grandet,—a very good-looking young man; I met him at the ball of + Monsieur de Nucingen.” Adolphe did not go on, for his mother trod on his + toes; and then, asking him aloud for two sous to put on her stake, she + whispered: “Will you hold your tongue, you great goose!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Grandet returned, without la Grande Nanon, whose steps, + together with those of the porter, echoed up the staircase; and he was + followed by the traveller who had excited such curiosity and so filled the + lively imaginations of those present that his arrival at this dwelling, + and his sudden fall into the midst of this assembly, can only be likened + to that of a snail into a beehive, or the introduction of a peacock into + some village poultry-yard. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down near the fire,” said Grandet. + </p> + <p> + Before seating himself, the young stranger saluted the assembled company + very gracefully. The men rose to answer by a courteous inclination, and + the women made a ceremonious bow. + </p> + <p> + “You are cold, no doubt, monsieur,” said Madame Grandet; “you have, + perhaps, travelled from—” + </p> + <p> + “Just like all women!” said the old wine-grower, looking up from a letter + he was reading. “Do let monsieur rest himself!” + </p> + <p> + “But, father, perhaps monsieur would like to take something,” said + Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “He has got a tongue,” said the old man sternly. + </p> + <p> + The stranger was the only person surprised by this scene; all the others + were well-used to the despotic ways of the master. However, after the two + questions and the two replies had been exchanged, the newcomer rose, + turned his back towards the fire, lifted one foot so as to warm the sole + of its boot, and said to Eugenie,— + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my cousin, but I dined at Tours. And,” he added, looking at + Grandet, “I need nothing; I am not even tired.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur has come from the capital?” asked Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Charles,—such was the name of the son of Monsieur Grandet + of Paris,—hearing himself addressed, took a little eye-glass, + suspended by a chain from his neck, applied it to his right eye to examine + what was on the table, and also the persons sitting round it. He ogled + Madame des Grassins with much impertinence, and said to her, after he had + observed all he wished,— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame. You are playing at loto, aunt,” he added. “Do not let me + interrupt you, I beg; go on with your game: it is too amusing to leave.” + </p> + <p> + “I was certain it was the cousin,” thought Madame des Grassins, casting + repeated glances at him. + </p> + <p> + “Forty-seven!” cried the old abbe. “Mark it down, Madame des Grassins. + Isn’t that your number?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur des Grassins put a counter on his wife’s card, who sat watching + first the cousin from Paris and then Eugenie, without thinking of her + loto, a prey to mournful presentiments. From time to time the young heiress glanced furtively at her cousin, and the banker’s wife easily + detected a <i>crescendo</i> of surprise and curiosity in her mind. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Charles Grandet, a handsome young man of twenty-two, presented at + this moment a singular contrast to the worthy provincials, who, + considerably disgusted by his aristocratic manners, were all studying him + with sarcastic intent. This needs an explanation. At twenty-two, young + people are still so near childhood that they often conduct themselves + childishly. In all probability, out of every hundred of them fully + ninety-nine would have behaved precisely as Monsieur Charles Grandet was + now behaving. + </p> + <p> + Some days earlier than this his father had told him to go and spend + several months with his uncle at Saumur. Perhaps Monsieur Grandet was + thinking of Eugenie. Charles, sent for the first time in his life into the + provinces, took a fancy to make his appearance with the superiority of a + man of fashion, to reduce the whole arrondissement to despair by his + luxury, and to make his visit an epoch, importing into those country + regions all the refinements of Parisian life. In short, to explain it in + one word, he mean to pass more time at Saumur in brushing his nails than + he ever thought of doing in Paris, and to assume the extra nicety and + elegance of dress which a young man of fashion often lays aside for a + certain negligence which in itself is not devoid of grace. Charles + therefore brought with him a complete hunting-costume, the finest gun, the + best hunting-knife in the prettiest sheath to be found in all Paris. He + brought his whole collection of waistcoats. They were of all kinds,—gray, + black, white, scarabaeus-colored: some were shot with gold, some spangled, + some <i>chined</i>; some were double-breasted and crossed like a shawl, + others were straight in the collar; some had turned-over collars, some + buttoned up to the top with gilt buttons. He brought every variety of + collar and cravat in fashion at that epoch. He brought two of Buisson’s + coats and all his finest linen He brought his pretty gold toilet-set,—a + present from his mother. He brought all his dandy knick-knacks, not + forgetting a ravishing little desk presented to him by the most amiable of + women,—amiable for him, at least,—a fine lady whom he called + Annette and who at this moment was travelling, matrimonially and wearily, + in Scotland, a victim to certain suspicions which required a passing + sacrifice of happiness; in the desk was much pretty note-paper on which to + write to her once a fortnight. + </p> + <p> + In short, it was as complete a cargo of Parisian frivolities as it was + possible for him to get together,—a collection of all the implements + of husbandry with which the youth of leisure tills his life, from the + little whip which helps to begin a duel, to the handsomely chased pistols + which end it. His father having told him to travel alone and modestly, he + had taken the coupe of the diligence all to himself, rather pleased at not + having to damage a delightful travelling-carriage ordered for a journey on + which he was to meet his Annette, the great lady who, etc.,—whom he + intended to rejoin at Baden in the following June. Charles expected to + meet scores of people at his uncle’s house, to hunt in his uncle’s + forests,—to live, in short, the usual chateau life; he did not know + that his uncle was in Saumur, and had only inquired about him incidentally + when asking the way to Froidfond. Hearing that he was in town, he supposed + that he should find him in a suitable mansion. + </p> + <p> + In order that he might make a becoming first appearance before his uncle + either at Saumur or at Froidfond, he had put on his most elegant + travelling attire, simple yet exquisite,—“adorable,” to use the word + which in those days summed up the special perfections of a man or a thing. + At Tours a hairdresser had re-curled his beautiful chestnut locks; there + he changed his linen and put on a black satin cravat, which, combined with + a round shirt-collar, framed his fair and smiling countenance agreeably. A + travelling great-coat, only half buttoned up, nipped in his waist and + disclosed a cashmere waistcoat crossed in front, beneath which was another + waistcoat of white material. His watch, negligently slipped into a pocket, + was fastened by a short gold chain to a buttonhole. His gray trousers, + buttoned up at the sides, were set off at the seams with patterns of black + silk embroidery. He gracefully twirled a cane, whose chased gold knob did + not mar the freshness of his gray gloves. And to complete all, his cap was + in excellent taste. None but a Parisian, and a Parisian of the upper + spheres, could thus array himself without appearing ridiculous; none other + could give the harmony of self-conceit to all these fopperies, which were + carried off, however, with a dashing air,—the air of a young man who + has fine pistols, a sure aim, and Annette. + </p> + <p> + Now if you wish to understand the mutual amazement of the provincial party + and the young Parisian; if you would clearly see the brilliance which the + traveller’s elegance cast among the gray shadows of the room and upon the + faces of this family group,—endeavor to picture to your minds the + Cruchots. All three took snuff, and had long ceased to repress the habit + of snivelling or to remove the brown blotches which strewed the frills of + their dingy shirts and the yellowing creases of their crumpled collars. + Their flabby cravats were twisted into ropes as soon as they wound them + about their throats. The enormous quantity of linen which allowed these + people to have their clothing washed only once in six months, and to keep + it during that time in the depths of their closets, also enabled time to + lay its grimy and decaying stains upon it. There was perfect unison of + ill-grace and senility about them; their faces, as faded as their + threadbare coats, as creased as their trousers, were worn-out, + shrivelled-up, and puckered. As for the others, the general negligence of + their dress, which was incomplete and wanting in freshness,—like the + toilet of all country places, where insensibly people cease to dress for + others and come to think seriously of the price of a pair of gloves,—was + in keeping with the negligence of the Cruchots. A horror of fashion was + the only point on which the Grassinists and the Cruchotines agreed. + </p> + <p> + When the Parisian took up his eye-glass to examine the strange accessories + of this dwelling,—the joists of the ceiling, the color of the + woodwork, and the specks which the flies had left there in sufficient + number to punctuate the “Moniteur” and the “Encyclopaedia of Sciences,”—the + loto-players lifted their noses and looked at him with as much curiosity + as they might have felt about a giraffe. Monsieur des Grassins and his + son, to whom the appearance of a man of fashion was not wholly unknown, + were nevertheless as much astonished as their neighbors, whether it was + that they fell under the indefinable influence of the general feeling, or + that they really shared it as with satirical glances they seemed to say to + their compatriots,— + </p> + <p> + “That is what you see in Paris!” + </p> + <p> + They were able to examine Charles at their leisure without fearing to + displease the master of the house. Grandet was absorbed in the long letter + which he held in his hand; and to read it he had taken the only candle + upon the card-table, paying no heed to his guests or their pleasure. + Eugenie, to whom such a type of perfection, whether of dress or of person, + was absolutely unknown, thought she beheld in her cousin a being descended + from seraphic spheres. She inhaled with delight the fragrance wafted from + the graceful curls of that brilliant head. She would have liked to touch + the soft kid of the delicate gloves. She envied Charles his small hands, + his complexion, the freshness and refinement of his features. In short,—if + it is possible to sum up the effect this elegant being produced upon an + ignorant young girl perpetually employed in darning stockings or in + mending her father’s clothes, and whose life flowed on beneath these + unclean rafters, seeing none but occasional passers along the silent + street,—this vision of her cousin roused in her soul an emotion of + delicate desire like that inspired in a young man by the fanciful pictures + of women drawn by Westall for the English “Keepsakes,” and that engraved + by the Findens with so clever a tool that we fear, as we breathe upon the + paper, that the celestial apparitions may be wafted away. Charles drew + from his pocket a handkerchief embroidered by the great lady now + travelling in Scotland. As Eugenie saw this pretty piece of work, done in + the vacant hours which were lost to love, she looked at her cousin to see + if it were possible that he meant to make use of it. The manners of the + young man, his gestures, the way in which he took up his eye-glass, his + affected superciliousness, his contemptuous glance at the coffer which had + just given so much pleasure to the rich heiress, and which he evidently + regarded as without value, or even as ridiculous,—all these things, + which shocked the Cruchots and the des Grassins, pleased Eugenie so deeply + that before she slept she dreamed long dreams of her phoenix cousin. + </p> + <p> + The loto-numbers were drawn very slowly, and presently the game came + suddenly to an end. La Grand Nanon entered and said aloud: “Madame, I want + the sheets for monsieur’s bed.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet followed her out. Madame des Grassins said in a low voice: + “Let us keep our sous and stop playing.” Each took his or her two sous + from the chipped saucer in which they had been put; then the party moved + in a body toward the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Have you finished your game?” said Grandet, without looking up from his + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” replied Madame des Grassins, taking a seat near Charles. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie, prompted by a thought often born in the heart of a young girl + when sentiment enters it for the first time, left the room to go and help + her mother and Nanon. Had an able confessor then questioned her she would, + no doubt, have avowed to him that she thought neither of her mother nor of + Nanon, but was pricked by a poignant desire to look after her cousin’s + room and concern herself with her cousin; to supply what might be needed, + to remedy any forgetfulness, to see that all was done to make it, as far + as possible, suitable and elegant; and, in fact, she arrived in time to + prove to her mother and Nanon that everything still remained to be done. + She put into Nanon’s head the notion of passing a warming-pan between the + sheets. She herself covered the old table with a cloth and requested Nanon + to change it every morning; she convinced her mother that it was necessary + to light a good fire, and persuaded Nanon to bring up a great pile of wood + into the corridor without saying anything to her father. She ran to get, + from one of the corner-shelves of the hall, a tray of old lacquer which + was part of the inheritance of the late Monsieur de la Bertelliere, + catching up at the same time a six-sided crystal goblet, a little + tarnished gilt spoon, an antique flask engraved with cupids, all of which + she put triumphantly on the corner of her cousin’s chimney-piece. More + ideas surged through her head in one quarter of an hour than she had ever + had since she came into the world. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” she said, “my cousin will never bear the smell of a tallow + candle; suppose we buy a wax one?” And she darted, swift as a bird, to get + the five-franc piece which she had just received for her monthly expenses. + “Here, Nanon,” she cried, “quick!” + </p> + <p> + “What will your father say?” This terrible remonstrance was uttered by + Madame Grandet as she beheld her daughter armed with an old Sevres + sugar-basin which Grandet had brought home from the chateau of Froidfond. + “And where will you get the sugar? Are you crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, Nanon can buy some sugar as well as the candle.” + </p> + <p> + “But your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely his nephew ought not to go without a glass of <i>eau sucree</i>? + Besides, he will not notice it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father sees everything,” said Madame Grandet, shaking her head. + </p> + <p> + Nanon hesitated; she knew her master. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Nanon, go,—because it is my birthday.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon gave a loud laugh as she heard the first little jest her young + mistress had ever made, and then obeyed her. + </p> + <p> + While Eugenie and her mother were trying to embellish the bedroom assigned + by Monsieur Grandet for his nephew, Charles himself was the object of + Madame des Grassins’ attentions; to all appearances she was setting her + cap at him. + </p> + <p> + “You are very courageous, monsieur,” she said to the young dandy, “to + leave the pleasures of the capital at this season and take up your abode + in Saumur. But if we do not frighten you away, you will find there are + some amusements even here.” + </p> + <p> + She threw him the ogling glance of the provinces, where women put so much + prudence and reserve into their eyes that they impart to them the prudish + concupiscence peculiar to certain ecclesiastics to whom all pleasure is + either a theft or an error. Charles was so completely out of his element + in this abode, and so far from the vast chateau and the sumptuous life + with which his fancy had endowed his uncle, that as he looked at Madame + des Grassins he perceived a dim likeness to Parisian faces. He gracefully + responded to the species of invitation addressed to him, and began very + naturally a conversation, in which Madame des Grassins gradually lowered + her voice so as to bring it into harmony with the nature of the + confidences she was making. With her, as with Charles, there was the need + of conference; so after a few moments spent in coquettish phrases and a + little serious jesting, the clever provincial said, thinking herself + unheard by the others, who were discussing the sale of wines which at that + season filled the heads of every one in Saumur,— + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur if you will do us the honor to come and see us, you will give as + much pleasure to my husband as to myself. Our salon is the only one in + Saumur where you will find the higher business circles mingling with the + nobility. We belong to both societies, who meet at our house simply + because they find it amusing. My husband—I say it with pride—is + as much valued by the one class as by the other. We will try to relieve + the monotony of your visit here. If you stay all the time with Monsieur + Grandet, good heavens! what will become of you? Your uncle is a sordid + miser who thinks of nothing but his vines; your aunt is a pious soul who + can’t put two ideas together; and your cousin is a little fool, without + education, perfectly common, no fortune, who will spend her life in + darning towels.” + </p> + <p> + “She is really very nice, this woman,” thought Charles Grandet as he duly + responded to Madame des Grassins’ coquetries. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, wife, that you are taking possession of monsieur,” said + the stout banker, laughing. + </p> + <p> + On this remark the notary and the president said a few words that were + more or less significant; but the abbe, looking at them slyly, brought + their thoughts to a focus by taking a pinch of snuff and saying as he + handed round his snuff-box: “Who can do the honors of Saumur for monsieur + so well as madame?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! what do you mean by that, monsieur l’abbe?” demanded Monsieur des + Grassins. + </p> + <p> + “I mean it in the best possible sense for you, for madame, for the town of + Saumur, and for monsieur,” said the wily old man, turning to Charles. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Cruchot had guessed the conversation between Charles and Madame + des Grassins without seeming to pay attention to it. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Adolphe to Charles with an air which he tried to make + free and easy, “I don’t know whether you remember me, but I had the honor + of dancing as your <i>vis-a-vis</i> at a ball given by the Baron de + Nucingen, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly; I remember perfectly, monsieur,” answered Charles, pleased to + find himself the object of general attention. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is your son?” he said to Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + The abbe looked at her maliciously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Then you were very young when you were in Paris?” said Charles, + addressing Adolphe. + </p> + <p> + “You must know, monsieur,” said the abbe, “that we send them to Babylon as + soon as they are weaned.” + </p> + <p> + Madame des Grassins examined the abbe with a glance of extreme + penetration. + </p> + <p> + “It is only in the provinces,” he continued, “that you will find women of + thirty and more years as fresh as madame, here, with a son about to take + his degree. I almost fancy myself back in the days when the young men + stood on chairs in the ball-room to see you dance, madame,” said the abbe, + turning to his female adversary. “To me, your triumphs are but of + yesterday—” + </p> + <p> + “The old rogue!” thought Madame Grassins; “can he have guessed my + intentions?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that I shall have a good deal of success in Saumur,” thought + Charles as he unbuttoned his great-coat, put a hand into his waistcoat, + and cast a glance into the far distance, to imitate the attitude which + Chantrey has given to Lord Byron. + </p> + <p> + The inattention of Pere Grandet, or, to speak more truly, the + preoccupation of mind into which the reading of the letter had plunged + him, did not escape the vigilance of the notary and the president, who + tried to guess the contents of the letter by the almost imperceptible + motions of the miser’s face, which was then under the full light of the + candle. He maintained the habitual calm of his features with evident + difficulty; we may, in fact, picture to ourselves the countenance such a + man endeavored to preserve as he read the fatal letter which here follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Brother,—It is almost twenty-three years since we have seen + each other. My marriage was the occasion of our last interview, + after which we parted, and both of us were happy. Assuredly I + could not then foresee that you would one day be the prop of the + family whose prosperity you then predicted. + + When you hold this letter within your hands I shall be no longer + living. In the position I now hold I cannot survive the disgrace + of bankruptcy. I have waited on the edge of the gulf until the + last moment, hoping to save myself. The end has come, I must sink + into it. The double bankruptcies of my broker and of Roguin, my + notary, have carried off my last resources and left me nothing. I + have the bitterness of owing nearly four millions, with assets not + more than twenty-five per cent in value to pay them. The wines in + my warehouses suffer from the fall in prices caused by the + abundance and quality of your vintage. In three days Paris will + cry out: “Monsieur Grandet was a knave!” and I, an honest man, + shall be lying in my winding-sheet of infamy. I deprive my son of + a good name, which I have stained, and the fortune of his mother, + which I have lost. He knows nothing of all this,—my unfortunate + child whom I idolize! We parted tenderly. He was ignorant, + happily, that the last beatings of my heart were spent in that + farewell. Will he not some day curse me? My brother, my brother! + the curses of our children are horrible; they can appeal against + ours, but theirs are irrevocable. Grandet, you are my elder + brother, you owe me your protection; act for me so that Charles + may cast no bitter words upon my grave! My brother, if I were + writing with my blood, with my tears, no greater anguish could I + put into this letter,—nor as great, for then I should weep, I + should bleed, I should die, I should suffer no more, but now I + suffer and look at death with dry eyes. + + From henceforth you are my son’s father; he has no relations, as + you well know, on his mother’s side. Why did I not consider social + prejudices? Why did I yield to love? Why did I marry the natural + daughter of a great lord? Charles has no family. Oh, my unhappy + son! my son! Listen, Grandet! I implore nothing for myself, + —besides, your property may not be large enough to carry a mortgage + of three millions,—but for my son! Brother, my suppliant hands + are clasped as I think of you; behold them! Grandet, I confide my + son to you in dying, and I look at the means of death with less + pain as I think that you will be to him a father. He loved me + well, my Charles; I was good to him, I never thwarted him; he will + not curse me. Ah, you see! he is gentle, he is like his mother, he + will cause you no grief. Poor boy! accustomed to all the + enjoyments of luxury, he knows nothing of the privations to which + you and I were condemned by the poverty of our youth. And I leave + him ruined! alone! Yes, all my friends will avoid him, and it is I + who have brought this humiliation upon him! Would that I had the + force to send him with one thrust into the heavens to his mother’s + side! Madness! I come back to my disaster—to his. I send him to + you that you may tell him in some fitting way of my death, of his + future fate. Be a father to him, but a good father. Do not tear + him all at once from his idle life, it would kill him. I beg him + on my knees to renounce all rights that, as his mother’s heir, he + may have on my estate. But the prayer is superfluous; he is + honorable, and he will feel that he must not appear among my + creditors. Bring him to see this at the right time; reveal to him + the hard conditions of the life I have made for him: and if he + still has tender thoughts of me, tell him in my name that all is + not lost for him. Yes, work, labor, which saved us both, may give + him back the fortune of which I have deprived him; and if he + listens to his father’s voice as it reaches him from the grave, he + will go the Indies. My brother, Charles is an upright and + courageous young man; give him the wherewithal to make his + venture; he will die sooner than not repay you the funds which you + may lend him. Grandet! if you will not do this, you will lay up + for yourself remorse. Ah, should my child find neither tenderness + nor succor in you, I would call down the vengeance of God upon + your cruelty! + + If I had been able to save something from the wreck, I might have + had the right to leave him at least a portion of his mother’s + property; but my last monthly payments have absorbed everything. I + did not wish to die uncertain of my child’s fate; I hoped to feel + a sacred promise in a clasp of your hand which might have warmed + my heart: but time fails me. While Charles is journeying to you I + shall be preparing my assignment. I shall endeavor to show by the + order and good faith of my accounts that my disaster comes neither + from a faulty life nor from dishonesty. It is for my son’s sake + that I strive to do this. + + Farewell, my brother! May the blessing of God be yours for the + generous guardianship I lay upon you, and which, I doubt not, you + will accept. A voice will henceforth and forever pray for you in + that world where we must all go, and where I am now as you read + these lines. +</pre> + <p> + Victor-Ange-Guillaume Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “So you are talking?” said Pere Grandet as he carefully folded the letter + in its original creases and put it into his waistcoat-pocket. He looked at + his nephew with a humble, timid air, beneath which he hid his feelings and + his calculations. “Have you warmed yourself?” he said to him. + </p> + <p> + “Thoroughly, my dear uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, where are the women?” said his uncle, already forgetting that his + nephew was to sleep at the house. At this moment Eugenie and Madame + Grandet returned. + </p> + <p> + “Is the room all ready?” said Grandet, recovering his composure. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, my nephew, if you are tired, Nanon shall show you your room. + It isn’t a dandy’s room; but you will excuse a poor wine-grower who never + has a penny to spare. Taxes swallow up everything.” + </p> + <p> + “We do not wish to intrude, Grandet,” said the banker; “you may want to + talk to your nephew, and therefore we will bid you good-night.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the assembly rose, and each made a parting bow in keeping + with his or her own character. The old notary went to the door to fetch + his lantern and came back to light it, offering to accompany the des + Grassins on their way. Madame des Grassins had not foreseen the incident + which brought the evening prematurely to an end, her servant therefore had + not arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the honor to take my arm, madame?” said the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, monsieur l’abbe, but I have my son,” she answered dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies cannot compromise themselves with me,” said the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Take Monsieur Cruchot’s arm,” said her husband. + </p> + <p> + The abbe walked off with the pretty lady so quickly that they were soon + some distance in advance of the caravan. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good-looking young man, madame,” he said, pressing her arm. + “Good-by to the grapes, the vintage is done. It is all over with us. We + may as well say adieu to Mademoiselle Grandet. Eugenie will belong to the + dandy. Unless this cousin is enamoured of some Parisian woman, your son + Adolphe will find another rival in—” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, monsieur l’abbe. This young man cannot fail to see that + Eugenie is a little fool,—a girl without the least freshness. Did + you notice her to-night? She was as yellow as a quince.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you made the cousin notice it?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not take the trouble—” + </p> + <p> + “Place yourself always beside Eugenie, madame, and you need never take the + trouble to say anything to the young man against his cousin; he will make + his own comparisons, which—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he has promised to dine with me the day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! if you only <i>would</i>, madame—” said the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “What is it that you wish me to do, monsieur l’abbe? Do you mean to offer + me bad advice? I have not reached the age of thirty-nine, without a stain + upon my reputation, thank God! to compromise myself now, even for the + empire of the Great Mogul. You and I are of an age when we both know the + meaning of words. For an ecclesiastic, you certainly have ideas that are + very incongruous. Fie! it is worthy of Faublas!” + </p> + <p> + “You have read Faublas?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur l’abbe; I meant to say the <i>Liaisons dangereuses</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that book is infinitely more moral,” said the abbe, laughing. “But + you make me out as wicked as a young man of the present day; I only meant—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you dare to tell me you were not thinking of putting wicked things + into my head? Isn’t it perfectly clear? If this young man—who I + admit is very good-looking—were to make love to me, he would not + think of his cousin. In Paris, I know, good mothers do devote themselves + in this way to the happiness and welfare of their children; but we live in + the provinces, monsieur l’abbe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” she continued, “I do not want, and Adolphe himself would not want, + a hundred millions brought at such a price.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, I said nothing about a hundred millions; that temptation might be + too great for either of us to withstand. Only, I do think that an honest + woman may permit herself, in all honor, certain harmless little + coquetries, which are, in fact, part of her social duty and which—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Are we not bound, madame, to make ourselves agreeable to each other?—Permit + me to blow my nose.—I assure you, madame,” he resumed, “that the + young gentleman ogled you through his glass in a more flattering manner + than he put on when he looked at me; but I forgive him for doing homage to + beauty in preference to old age—” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite apparent,” said the president in his loud voice, “that + Monsieur Grandet of Paris has sent his son to Saumur with extremely + matrimonial intentions.” + </p> + <p> + “But in that case the cousin wouldn’t have fallen among us like a + cannon-ball,” answered the notary. + </p> + <p> + “That doesn’t prove anything,” said Monsieur des Grassins; “the old miser + is always making mysteries.” + </p> + <p> + “Des Grassins, my friend, I have invited the young man to dinner. You must + go and ask Monsieur and Madame de Larsonniere and the du Hautoys, with the + beautiful demoiselle du Hautoy, of course. I hope she will be properly + dressed; that jealous mother of hers does make such a fright of her! + Gentlemen, I trust that you will all do us the honor to come,” she added, + stopping the procession to address the two Cruchots. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are at home, madame,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + After bowing to the three des Grassins, the three Cruchots returned home, + applying their provincial genius for analysis to studying, under all its + aspects, the great event of the evening, which undoubtedly changed the + respective positions of Grassinists and Cruchotines. The admirable + common-sense which guided all the actions of these great machinators made + each side feel the necessity of a momentary alliance against a common + enemy. Must they not mutually hinder Eugenie from loving her cousin, and + the cousin from thinking of Eugenie? Could the Parisian resist the + influence of treacherous insinuations, soft-spoken calumnies, slanders + full of faint praise and artless denials, which should be made to circle + incessantly about him and deceive him? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + When the four relations were left alone, Monsieur Grandet said to his + nephew,— + </p> + <p> + “We must go to bed. It is too late to talk about the matters which have + brought you here; to-morrow we will take a suitable moment. We breakfast + at eight o’clock; at midday we eat a little fruit or a bit of bread, and + drink a glass of white wine; and we dine, like the Parisians, at five + o’clock. That’s the order of the day. If you like to go and see the town + and the environs you are free to do so. You will excuse me if my + occupations do not permit me to accompany you. You may perhaps hear people + say that I am rich,—Monsieur Grandet this, Monsieur Grandet that. I + let them talk; their gossip does not hurt my credit. But I have not a + penny; I work in my old age like an apprentice whose worldly goods are a + bad plane and two good arms. Perhaps you’ll soon know yourself what a + franc costs when you have got to sweat for it. Nanon, where are the + candles?” + </p> + <p> + “I trust, my nephew, that you will find all you want,” said Madame + Grandet; “but if you should need anything else, you can call Nanon.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear aunt, I shall need nothing; I have, I believe, brought everything + with me. Permit me to bid you good-night, and my young cousin also.” + </p> + <p> + Charles took a lighted wax candle from Nanon’s hand,—an Anjou + candle, very yellow in color, and so shopworn that it looked like tallow + and deceived Monsieur Grandet, who, incapable of suspecting its presence + under his roof, did not perceive this magnificence. + </p> + <p> + “I will show you the way,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Instead of leaving the hall by the door which opened under the archway, + Grandet ceremoniously went through the passage which divided the hall from + the kitchen. A swing-door, furnished with a large oval pane of glass, shut + this passage from the staircase, so as to fend off the cold air which + rushed through it. But the north wind whistled none the less keenly in + winter, and, in spite of the sand-bags at the bottom of the doors of the + living-room, the temperature within could scarcely be kept at a proper + height. Nanon went to bolt the outer door; then she closed the hall and + let loose a wolf-dog, whose bark was so strangled that he seemed to have + laryngitis. This animal, noted for his ferocity, recognized no one but + Nanon; the two untutored children of the fields understood each other. + </p> + <p> + When Charles saw the yellow, smoke-stained walls of the well of the + staircase, where each worm-eaten step shook under the heavy foot-fall of + his uncle, his expectations began to sober more and more. He fancied + himself in a hen-roost. His aunt and cousin, to whom he turned an + inquiring look, were so used to the staircase that they did not guess the + cause of his amazement, and took the glance for an expression of + friendliness, which they answered by a smile that made him desperate. + </p> + <p> + “Why the devil did my father send me to such a place?” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the first landing he saw three doors painted in Etruscan + red and without casings,—doors sunk in the dusty walls and provided + with iron bars, which in fact were bolts, each ending with the pattern of + a flame, as did both ends of the long sheath of the lock. The first door + at the top of the staircase, which opened into a room directly above the + kitchen, was evidently walled up. In fact, the only entrance to that room + was through Grandet’s bedchamber; the room itself was his office. The + single window which lighted it, on the side of the court, was protected by + a lattice of strong iron bars. No one, not even Madame Grandet, had + permission to enter it. The old man chose to be alone, like an alchemist + in his laboratory. There, no doubt, some hiding-place had been ingeniously + constructed; there the title-deeds of property were stored; there hung the + scales on which to weigh the louis; there were devised, by night and + secretly, the estimates, the profits, the receipts, so that business men, + finding Grandet prepared at all points, imagined that he got his cue from + fairies or demons; there, no doubt, while Nanon’s loud snoring shook the + rafters, while the wolf-dog watched and yawned in the courtyard, while + Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet were quietly sleeping, came the old cooper + to cuddle, to con over, to caress and clutch and clasp his gold. The walls + were thick, the screens sure. He alone had the key of this laboratory, + where—so people declared—he studied the maps on which his + fruit-trees were marked, and calculated his profits to a vine, and almost + to a twig. + </p> + <p> + The door of Eugenie’s chamber was opposite to the walled-up entrance to + this room. At the other end of the landing were the appartements of the + married pair, which occupied the whole front of the house. Madame Grandet + had a room next to that of Eugenie, which was entered through a glass + door. The master’s chamber was separated from that of his wife by a + partition, and from the mysterious strong-room by a thick wall. Pere + Grandet lodged his nephew on the second floor, in the high mansarde attic + which was above his own bedroom, so that he might hear him if the young + man took it into his head to go and come. When Eugenie and her mother + reached the middle of the landing they kissed each other for good-night; + then with a few words of adieu to Charles, cold upon the lips, but + certainly very warm in the heart of the young girl, they withdrew into + their own chambers. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are in your room, my nephew,” said Pere Grandet as he opened the + door. “If you need to go out, call Nanon; without her, beware! the dog + would eat you up without a word. Sleep well. Good-night. Ha! why, they + have made you a fire!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Nanon appeared with the warming pan. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s something more!” said Monsieur Grandet. “Do you take my nephew for + a lying-in woman? Carry off your brazier, Nanon!” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, the sheets are damp, and this gentleman is as delicate as + a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, go on, as you’ve taken it into your head,” said Grandet, pushing + her by the shoulders; “but don’t set things on fire.” So saying, the miser + went down-stairs, grumbling indistinct sentences. + </p> + <p> + Charles stood aghast in the midst of his trunks. After casting his eyes on + the attic-walls covered with that yellow paper sprinkled with bouquets so + well known in dance-houses, on the fireplace of ribbed stone whose very + look was chilling, on the chairs of yellow wood with varnished cane seats + that seemed to have more than the usual four angles, on the open + night-table capacious enough to hold a small sergeant-at-arms, on the + meagre bit of rag-carpet beside the bed, on the tester whose cloth valance + shook as if, devoured by moths, it was about to fall, he turned gravely to + la Grande Nanon and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Look here! my dear woman, just tell me, am I in the house of Monsieur + Grandet, formerly mayor of Saumur, and brother to Monsieur Grandet of + Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur; and a very good, a very kind, a very perfect gentleman. + Shall I help you to unpack your trunks?” + </p> + <p> + “Faith! yes, if you will, my old trooper. Didn’t you serve in the marines + of the Imperial Guard?” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Nanon. “What’s that,—the marines of the guard? + Is it salt? Does it go in the water?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, get me my dressing-gown out of that valise; there’s the key.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon was wonder-struck by the sight of a dressing-gown made of green + silk, brocaded with gold flowers of an antique design. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to put that on to go to bed with?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin! what a beautiful altar-cloth it would make for the parish + church! My dear darling monsieur, give it to the church, and you’ll save + your soul; if you don’t, you’ll lose it. Oh, how nice you look in it! I + must call mademoiselle to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Nanon, if Nanon you are, hold your tongue; let me go to bed. I’ll + arrange my things to-morrow. If my dressing-gown pleases you so much, you + shall save your soul. I’m too good a Christian not to give it to you when + I go away, and you can do what you like with it.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon stood rooted to the ground, gazing at Charles and unable to put + faith into his words. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Nanon.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world have I come here for?” thought Charles as he went to + sleep. “My father is not a fool; my journey must have some object. Pshaw! + put off serious thought till the morrow, as some Greek idiot said.” + </p> + <p> + “Blessed Virgin! how charming he is, my cousin!” Eugenie was saying, + interrupting her prayers, which that night at least were never finished. + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet had no thoughts at all as she went to bed. She heard the + miser walking up and down his room through the door of communication which + was in the middle of the partition. Like all timid women, she had studied + the character of her lord. Just as the petrel foresees the storm, she knew + by imperceptible signs when an inward tempest shook her husband; and at + such times, to use an expression of her own, she “feigned dead.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet gazed at the door lined with sheet-iron which he lately put to his + sanctum, and said to himself,— + </p> + <p> + “What a crazy idea of my brother to bequeath his son to me! A fine legacy! + I have not fifty francs to give him. What are fifty francs to a dandy who + looked at my barometer as if he meant to make firewood of it!” + </p> + <p> + In thinking over the consequences of that legacy of anguish Grandet was + perhaps more agitated than his brother had been at the moment of writing + it. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have that golden robe,” thought Nanon, who went to sleep tricked + out in her altar-cloth, dreaming for the first time in her life of + flowers, embroidery, and damask, just as Eugenie was dreaming of love. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In the pure and monotonous life of young girls there comes a delicious + hour when the sun sheds its rays into their soul, when the flowers express + their thoughts, when the throbbings of the heart send upward to the brain + their fertilizing warmth and melt all thoughts into a vague desire,—day + of innocent melancholy and of dulcet joys! When babes begin to see, they + smile; when a young girl first perceives the sentiment of nature, she + smiles as she smiled when an infant. If light is the first love of life, + is not love a light to the heart? The moment to see within the veil of + earthly things had come for Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + An early riser, like all provincial girls, she was up betimes and said her + prayers, and then began the business of dressing,—a business which + henceforth was to have a meaning. First she brushed and smoothed her + chestnut hair and twisted its heavy masses to the top of her head with the + utmost care, preventing the loose tresses from straying, and giving to her + head a symmetry which heightened the timid candor of her face; for the + simplicity of these accessories accorded well with the innocent sincerity + of its lines. As she washed her hands again and again in the cold water + which hardened and reddened the skin, she looked at her handsome round + arms and asked herself what her cousin did to make his hands so softly + white, his nails so delicately curved. She put on new stockings and her + prettiest shoes. She laced her corset straight, without skipping a single + eyelet. And then, wishing for the first time in her life to appear to + advantage, she felt the joy of having a new gown, well made, which + rendered her attractive. + </p> + <p> + As she finished her toilet the clock of the parish church struck the hour; + to her astonishment, it was only seven. The desire of having plenty of + time for dressing carefully had led her to get up too early. Ignorant of + the art of retouching every curl and studying every effect, Eugenie simply + crossed her arms, sat down by the window, and looked at the court-yard, + the narrow garden, and the high terraced walls that over-topped it: a + dismal, hedged-in prospect, yet not wholly devoid of those mysterious + beauties which belong to solitary or uncultivated nature. Near the kitchen + was a well surrounded by a curb, with a pulley fastened to a bent iron rod + clasped by a vine whose leaves were withered, reddened, and shrivelled by + the season. From thence the tortuous shoots straggled to the wall, + clutched it, and ran the whole length of the house, ending near the + wood-pile, where the logs were ranged with as much precision as the books + in a library. The pavement of the court-yard showed the black stains + produced in time by lichens, herbage, and the absence of all movement or + friction. The thick walls wore a coating of green moss streaked with + waving brown lines, and the eight stone steps at the bottom of the + court-yard which led up to the gate of the garden were disjointed and + hidden beneath tall plants, like the tomb of a knight buried by his widow + in the days of the Crusades. Above a foundation of moss-grown, crumbling + stones was a trellis of rotten wood, half fallen from decay; over them + clambered and intertwined at will a mass of clustering creepers. On each + side of the latticed gate stretched the crooked arms of two stunted + apple-trees. Three parallel walks, gravelled and separated from each other + by square beds, where the earth was held in by box-borders, made the + garden, which terminated, beneath a terrace of the old walls, in a group + of lindens. At the farther end were raspberry-bushes; at the other, near + the house, an immense walnut-tree drooped its branches almost into the + window of the miser’s sanctum. + </p> + <p> + A clear day and the beautiful autumnal sun common to the banks of the + Loire was beginning to melt the hoar-frost which the night had laid on + these picturesque objects, on the walls, and on the plants which swathed + the court-yard. Eugenie found a novel charm in the aspect of things lately + so insignificant to her. A thousand confused thoughts came to birth in her + mind and grew there, as the sunbeams grew without along the wall. She felt + that impulse of delight, vague, inexplicable, which wraps the moral being + as a cloud wraps the physical body. Her thoughts were all in keeping with + the details of this strange landscape, and the harmonies of her heart + blended with the harmonies of nature. When the sun reached an angle of the + wall where the “Venus-hair” of southern climes drooped its thick leaves, + lit with the changing colors of a pigeon’s breast, celestial rays of hope + illumined the future to her eyes, and thenceforth she loved to gaze upon + that piece of wall, on its pale flowers, its blue harebells, its wilting + herbage, with which she mingled memories as tender as those of childhood. + The noise made by each leaf as it fell from its twig in the void of that + echoing court gave answer to the secret questionings of the young girl, + who could have stayed there the livelong day without perceiving the flight + of time. Then came tumultuous heavings of the soul. She rose often, went + to her glass, and looked at herself, as an author in good faith looks at + his work to criticise it and blame it in his own mind. + </p> + <p> + “I am not beautiful enough for him!” Such was Eugenie’s thought,—a + humble thought, fertile in suffering. The poor girl did not do herself + justice; but modesty, or rather fear, is among the first of love’s + virtues. Eugenie belonged to the type of children with sturdy + constitutions, such as we see among the lesser bourgeoisie, whose beauties + always seem a little vulgar; and yet, though she resembled the Venus of + Milo, the lines of her figure were ennobled by the softer Christian + sentiment which purifies womanhood and gives it a distinction unknown to + the sculptors of antiquity. She had an enormous head, with the masculine + yet delicate forehead of the Jupiter of Phidias, and gray eyes, to which + her chaste life, penetrating fully into them, carried a flood of light. + The features of her round face, formerly fresh and rosy, were at one time + swollen by the small-pox, which destroyed the velvet texture of the skin, + though it kindly left no other traces, and her cheek was still so soft and + delicate that her mother’s kiss made a momentary red mark upon it. Her + nose was somewhat too thick, but it harmonized well with the vermilion + mouth, whose lips, creased in many lines, were full of love and kindness. + The throat was exquisitely round. The bust, well curved and carefully + covered, attracted the eye and inspired reverie. It lacked, no doubt, the + grace which a fitting dress can bestow; but to a connoisseur the + non-flexibility of her figure had its own charm. Eugenie, tall and + strongly made, had none of the prettiness which pleases the masses; but + she was beautiful with a beauty which the spirit recognizes, and none but + artists truly love. A painter seeking here below for a type of Mary’s + celestial purity, searching womankind for those proud modest eyes which + Raphael divined, for those virgin lines, often due to chances of + conception, which the modesty of Christian life alone can bestow or keep + unchanged,—such a painter, in love with his ideal, would have found + in the face of Eugenie the innate nobleness that is ignorant of itself; he + would have seen beneath the calmness of that brow a world of love; he + would have felt, in the shape of the eyes, in the fall of the eyelids, the + presence of the nameless something that we call divine. Her features, the + contour of her head, which no expression of pleasure had ever altered or + wearied, were like the lines of the horizon softly traced in the far + distance across the tranquil lakes. That calm and rosy countenance, + margined with light like a lovely full-blown flower, rested the mind, held + the eye, and imparted the charm of the conscience that was there + reflected. Eugenie was standing on the shore of life where young illusions + flower, where daisies are gathered with delights ere long to be unknown; + and thus she said, looking at her image in the glass, unconscious as yet + of love: “I am too ugly; he will not notice me.” + </p> + <p> + Then she opened the door of her chamber which led to the staircase, and + stretched out her neck to listen for the household noises. “He is not up,” + she thought, hearing Nanon’s morning cough as the good soul went and came, + sweeping out the halls, lighting her fire, chaining the dog, and speaking + to the beasts in the stable. Eugenie at once went down and ran to Nanon, + who was milking the cow. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, my good Nanon, make a little cream for my cousin’s breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, mademoiselle, you should have thought of that yesterday,” said + Nanon, bursting into a loud peal of laughter. “I can’t make cream. Your + cousin is a darling, a darling! oh, that he is! You should have seen him + in his dressing-gown, all silk and gold! I saw him, I did! He wears linen + as fine as the surplice of monsieur le cure.” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, please make us a <i>galette</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “And who’ll give me wood for the oven, and flour and butter for the + cakes?” said Nanon, who in her function of prime-minister to Grandet + assumed at times enormous importance in the eyes of Eugenie and her + mother. “Mustn’t rob the master to feast the cousin. You ask him for + butter and flour and wood: he’s your father, perhaps he’ll give you some. + See! there he is now, coming to give out the provisions.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie escaped into the garden, quite frightened as she heard the + staircase shaking under her father’s step. Already she felt the effects of + that virgin modesty and that special consciousness of happiness which lead + us to fancy, not perhaps without reason, that our thoughts are graven on + our foreheads and are open to the eyes of all. Perceiving for the first + time the cold nakedness of her father’s house, the poor girl felt a sort + of rage that she could not put it in harmony with her cousin’s elegance. + She felt the need of doing something for him,—what, she did not + know. Ingenuous and truthful, she followed her angelic nature without + mistrusting her impressions or her feelings. The mere sight of her cousin + had wakened within her the natural yearnings of a woman,—yearnings + that were the more likely to develop ardently because, having reached her + twenty-third year, she was in the plenitude of her intelligence and her + desires. For the first time in her life her heart was full of terror at + the sight of her father; in him she saw the master of the fate, and she + fancied herself guilty of wrong-doing in hiding from his knowledge certain + thoughts. She walked with hasty steps, surprised to breathe a purer air, + to feel the sun’s rays quickening her pulses, to absorb from their heat a + moral warmth and a new life. As she turned over in her mind some stratagem + by which to get the cake, a quarrel—an event as rare as the sight of + swallows in winter—broke out between la Grande Nanon and Grandet. + Armed with his keys, the master had come to dole out provisions for the + day’s consumption. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any bread left from yesterday?” he said to Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Not a crumb, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet took a large round loaf, well floured and moulded in one of the + flat baskets which they use for baking in Anjou, and was about to cut it, + when Nanon said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “We are five, to-day, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true,” said Grandet, “but your loaves weigh six pounds; there’ll + be some left. Besides, these young fellows from Paris don’t eat bread, + you’ll see.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they must eat <i>frippe</i>?” said Nanon. + </p> + <p> + <i>Frippe</i> is a word of the local lexicon of Anjou, and means any + accompaniment of bread, from butter which is spread upon it, the commonest + kind of <i>frippe</i>, to peach preserve, the most distinguished of all + the <i>frippes</i>; those who in their childhood have licked the <i>frippe</i> + and left the bread, will comprehend the meaning of Nanon’s speech. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Grandet, “they eat neither bread nor <i>frippe</i>; they + are something like marriageable girls.” + </p> + <p> + After ordering the meals for the day with his usual parsimony, the + goodman, having locked the closets containing the supplies, was about to + go towards the fruit-garden, when Nanon stopped him to say,— + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, give me a little flour and some butter, and I’ll make a <i>galette</i> + for the young ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to pillage the house on account of my nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn’t thinking any more of your nephew than I was of your dog,—not + more than you think yourself; for, look here, you’ve only forked out six + bits of sugar. I want eight.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s all this, Nanon? I have never seen you like this before. What have + you got in your head? Are you the mistress here? You sha’n’t have more + than six pieces of sugar.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, how is your nephew to sweeten his coffee?” + </p> + <p> + “With two pieces; I’ll go without myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Go without sugar at your age! I’d rather buy you some out of my own + pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind your own business.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of the recent fall in prices, sugar was still in Grandet’s eyes + the most valuable of all the colonial products; to him it was always six + francs a pound. The necessity of economizing it, acquired under the + Empire, had grown to be the most inveterate of his habits. All women, even + the greatest ninnies, know how to dodge and dodge to get their ends; Nanon + abandoned the sugar for the sake of getting the <i>galette</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” she called through the window, “do you want some <i>galette</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” answered Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Nanon,” said Grandet, hearing his daughter’s voice. “See here.” He + opened the cupboard where the flour was kept, gave her a cupful, and added + a few ounces of butter to the piece he had already cut off. + </p> + <p> + “I shall want wood for the oven,” said the implacable Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Well, take what you want,” he answered sadly; “but in that case you must + make us a fruit-tart, and you’ll cook the whole dinner in the oven. In + that way you won’t need two fires.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” cried Nanon, “you needn’t tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet cast a look that was well-nigh paternal upon his faithful deputy. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” she cried, when his back was turned, “we shall have the <i>galette</i>.” + </p> + <p> + Pere Grandet returned from the garden with the fruit and arranged a + plateful on the kitchen-table. + </p> + <p> + “Just see, monsieur,” said Nanon, “what pretty boots your nephew has. What + leather! why it smells good! What does he clean it with, I wonder? Am I to + put your egg-polish on it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, I think eggs would injure that kind of leather. Tell him you don’t + know how to black morocco; yes, that’s morocco. He will get you something + himself in Saumur to polish those boots with. I have heard that they put + sugar into the blacking to make it shine.” + </p> + <p> + “They look good to eat,” said the cook, putting the boots to her nose. + “Bless me! if they don’t smell like madame’s eau-de-cologne. Ah! how + funny!” + </p> + <p> + “Funny!” said her master. “Do you call it funny to put more money into + boots than the man who stands in them is worth?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said, when Grandet returned the second time, after locking + the fruit-garden, “won’t you have the <i>pot-au-feu</i> put on once or + twice a week on account of your nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I to go to the butcher’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. We will make the broth of fowls; the farmers will bring + them. I shall tell Cornoiller to shoot some crows; they make the best soup + in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it true, monsieur, that crows eat the dead?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool, Nanon. They eat what they can get, like the rest of the + world. Don’t we all live on the dead? What are legacies?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet, having no further orders to give, drew out his watch, + and seeing that he had half an hour to dispose of before breakfast, he + took his hat, went and kissed his daughter, and said to her: + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to come for a walk in the fields, down by the Loire? I have + something to do there.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie fetched her straw bonnet, lined with pink taffeta; then the father + and daughter went down the winding street to the shore. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going at this early hour?” said Cruchot, the notary, + meeting them. + </p> + <p> + “To see something,” answered Grandet, not duped by the matutinal + appearance of his friend. + </p> + <p> + When Pere Grandet went to “see something,” the notary knew by experience + there was something to be got by going with him; so he went. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Cruchot,” said Grandet, “you are one of my friends. I’ll show you + what folly it is to plant poplar-trees on good ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call the sixty thousand francs that you pocketed for those that + were in your fields down by the Loire, folly?” said Maitre Cruchot, + opening his eyes with amazement. “What luck you have had! To cut down your + trees at the very time they ran short of white-wood at Nantes, and to sell + them at thirty francs!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie listened, without knowing that she approached the most solemn + moment of her whole life, and that the notary was about to bring down upon + her head a paternal and supreme sentence. Grandet had now reached the + magnificent fields which he owned on the banks of the Loire, where thirty + workmen were employed in clearing away, filling up, and levelling the + spots formerly occupied by the poplars. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Cruchot, see how much ground this tree once took up! Jean,” he + cried to a laborer, “m-m-measure with your r-r-rule, b-both ways.” + </p> + <p> + “Four times eight feet,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-two feet lost,” said Grandet to Cruchot. “I had three hundred + poplars in this one line, isn’t that so? Well, then, three h-h-hundred + times thir-thirty-two lost m-m-me five hundred in h-h-hay; add twice as + much for the side rows,—fifteen hundred; the middle rows as much + more. So we may c-c-call it a th-thousand b-b-bales of h-h-hay—” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said Cruchot, to help out his friend; “a thousand bales are + worth about six hundred francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Say t-t-twelve hundred, be-c-cause there’s three or four hundred francs + on the second crop. Well, then, c-c-calculate that t-twelve thousand + francs a year for f-f-forty years with interest c-c-comes to—” + </p> + <p> + “Say sixty thousand francs,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + “I am willing; c-c-comes t-t-to sixty th-th-thousand. Very good,” + continued Grandet, without stuttering: “two thousand poplars forty years + old will only yield me fifty thousand francs. There’s a loss. I have found + that myself,” said Grandet, getting on his high horse. “Jean, fill up all + the holes except those at the bank of the river; there you are to plant + the poplars I have bought. Plant ‘em there, and they’ll get nourishment + from the government,” he said, turning to Cruchot, and giving a slight + motion to the wen on his nose, which expressed more than the most ironical + of smiles. + </p> + <p> + “True enough; poplars should only be planted on poor soil,” said Cruchot, + amazed at Grandet’s calculations. + </p> + <p> + “Y-y-yes, monsieur,” answered the old man satirically. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie, who was gazing at the sublime scenery of the Loire, and paying no + attention to her father’s reckonings, presently turned an ear to the + remarks of Cruchot when she heard him say,— + </p> + <p> + “So you have brought a son-in-law from Paris. All Saumur is talking about + your nephew. I shall soon have the marriage-contract to draw up, hey! Pere + Grandet?” + </p> + <p> + “You g-g-got up very early to t-t-tell me that,” said Grandet, + accompanying the remark with a motion of his wen. “Well, old c-c-comrade, + I’ll be frank, and t-t-tell you what you want t-t-to know. I would rather, + do you see, f-f-fling my daughter into the Loire than g-g-give her to her + c-c-cousin. You may t-t-tell that everywhere,—no, never mind; let + the world t-t-talk.” + </p> + <p> + This answer dazzled and blinded the young girl with sudden light. The + distant hopes upspringing in her heart bloomed suddenly, became real, + tangible, like a cluster of flowers, and she saw them cut down and wilting + on the earth. Since the previous evening she had attached herself to + Charles by those links of happiness which bind soul to soul; from + henceforth suffering was to rivet them. Is it not the noble destiny of + women to be more moved by the dark solemnities of grief than by the + splendors of fortune? How was it that fatherly feeling had died out of her + father’s heart? Of what crime had Charles been guilty? Mysterious + questions! Already her dawning love, a mystery so profound, was wrapping + itself in mystery. She walked back trembling in all her limbs; and when + she reached the gloomy street, lately so joyous to her, she felt its + sadness, she breathed the melancholy which time and events had printed + there. None of love’s lessons lacked. A few steps from their own door she + went on before her father and waited at the threshold. But Grandet, who + saw a newspaper in the notary’s hand, stopped short and asked,— + </p> + <p> + “How are the Funds?” + </p> + <p> + “You never listen to my advice, Grandet,” answered Cruchot. “Buy soon; you + will still make twenty per cent in two years, besides getting an excellent + rate of interest,—five thousand a year for eighty thousand francs + fifty centimes.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll see about that,” answered Grandet, rubbing his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” exclaimed the notary. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what?” cried Grandet; and at the same moment Cruchot put the + newspaper under his eyes and said: + </p> + <p> + “Read that!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Monsieur Grandet, one of the most respected merchants in Paris, + blew his brains out yesterday, after making his usual appearance + at the Bourse. He had sent his resignation to the president of the + Chamber of Deputies, and had also resigned his functions as a + judge of the commercial courts. The failures of Monsieur Roguin + and Monsieur Souchet, his broker and his notary, had ruined him. + The esteem felt for Monsieur Grandet and the credit he enjoyed + were nevertheless such that he might have obtained the necessary + assistance from other business houses. It is much to be regretted + that so honorable a man should have yielded to momentary despair,” + etc. +</pre> + <p> + “I knew it,” said the old wine-grower to the notary. + </p> + <p> + The words sent a chill of horror through Maitre Cruchot, who, + notwithstanding his impassibility as a notary, felt the cold running down + his spine as he thought that Grandet of Paris had possibly implored in + vain the millions of Grandet of Saumur. + </p> + <p> + “And his son, so joyous yesterday—” + </p> + <p> + “He knows nothing as yet,” answered Grandet, with the same composure. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu! Monsieur Grandet,” said Cruchot, who now understood the state of + the case, and went off to reassure Monsieur de Bonfons. + </p> + <p> + On entering, Grandet found breakfast ready. Madame Grandet, round whose + neck Eugenie had flung her arms, kissing her with the quick effusion of + feeling often caused by secret grief, was already seated in her chair on + castors, knitting sleeves for the coming winter. + </p> + <p> + “You can begin to eat,” said Nanon, coming downstairs four steps at a + time; “the young one is sleeping like a cherub. Isn’t he a darling with + his eyes shut? I went in and I called him: no answer.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him sleep,” said Grandet; “he’ll wake soon enough to hear + ill-tidings.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Eugenie, putting into her coffee the two little bits + of sugar weighing less than half an ounce which the old miser amused + himself by cutting up in his leisure hours. Madame Grandet, who did not + dare to put the question, gazed at her husband. + </p> + <p> + “His father has blown his brains out.” + </p> + <p> + “My uncle?” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Poor young man!” exclaimed Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Poor indeed!” said Grandet; “he isn’t worth a sou!” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! poor boy, and he’s sleeping like the king of the world!” said Nanon + in a gentle voice. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie stopped eating. Her heart was wrung, as the young heart is wrung + when pity for the suffering of one she loves overflows, for the first + time, the whole being of a woman. The poor girl wept. + </p> + <p> + “What are you crying about? You didn’t know your uncle,” said her father, + giving her one of those hungry tigerish looks he doubtless threw upon his + piles of gold. + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur,” said Nanon, “who wouldn’t feel pity for the poor young + man, sleeping there like a wooden shoe, without knowing what’s coming?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t speak to you, Nanon. Hold your tongue!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie learned at that moment that the woman who loves must be able to + hide her feelings. She did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “You will say nothing to him about it, Ma’ame Grandet, till I return,” + said the old man. “I have to go and straighten the line of my hedge along + the high-road. I shall be back at noon, in time for the second breakfast, + and then I will talk with my nephew about his affairs. As for you, + Mademoiselle Eugenie, if it is for that dandy you are crying, that’s + enough, child. He’s going off like a shot to the Indies. You will never + see him again.” + </p> + <p> + The father took his gloves from the brim of his hat, put them on with his + usual composure, pushed them in place by shoving the fingers of both hands + together, and went out. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, I am suffocating!” cried Eugenie when she was alone with her + mother; “I have never suffered like this.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet, seeing that she turned pale, opened the window and let her + breathe fresh air. + </p> + <p> + “I feel better!” said Eugenie after a moment. + </p> + <p> + This nervous excitement in a nature hitherto, to all appearance, calm and + cold, reacted on Madame Grandet; she looked at her daughter with the + sympathetic intuition with which mothers are gifted for the objects of + their tenderness, and guessed all. In truth the life of the Hungarian + sisters, bound together by a freak of nature, could scarcely have been + more intimate than that of Eugenie and her mother,—always together + in the embrasure of that window, and sleeping together in the same + atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + “My poor child!” said Madame Grandet, taking Eugenie’s head and laying it + upon her bosom. + </p> + <p> + At these words the young girl raised her head, questioned her mother by a + look, and seemed to search out her inmost thought. + </p> + <p> + “Why send him to the Indies?” she said. “If he is unhappy, ought he not to + stay with us? Is he not our nearest relation?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my child, it seems natural; but your father has his reasons: we must + respect them.” + </p> + <p> + The mother and daughter sat down in silence, the former upon her raised + seat, the latter in her little armchair, and both took up their work. + Swelling with gratitude for the full heart-understanding her mother had + given her, Eugenie kissed the dear hand, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “How good you are, my kind mamma!” + </p> + <p> + The words sent a glow of light into the motherly face, worn and blighted + as it was by many sorrows. + </p> + <p> + “You like him?” asked Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet only smiled in reply. Then, after a moment’s silence, she + said in a low voice: “Do you love him already? That is wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Wrong?” said Eugenie. “Why is it wrong? You are pleased with him, Nanon + is pleased with him; why should he not please me? Come, mamma, let us set + the table for his breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + She threw down her work, and her mother did the same, saying, “Foolish + child!” But she sanctioned the child’s folly by sharing it. Eugenie called + Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want now, mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, can we have cream by midday?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! midday, to be sure you can,” answered the old servant. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let him have his coffee very strong; I heard Monsieur des Grassins + say that they make the coffee very strong in Paris. Put in a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Where am I to get it?” + </p> + <p> + “Buy some.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose monsieur meets me?” + </p> + <p> + “He has gone to his fields.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll run, then. But Monsieur Fessard asked me yesterday if the Magi had + come to stay with us when I bought the wax candle. All the town will know + our goings-on.” + </p> + <p> + “If your father finds it out,” said Madame Grandet, “he is capable of + beating us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let him beat us; we will take his blows on our knees.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet for all answer raised her eyes to heaven. Nanon put on her + hood and went off. Eugenie got out some clean table-linen, and went to + fetch a few bunches of grapes which she had amused herself by hanging on a + string across the attic; she walked softly along the corridor, so as not + to waken her cousin, and she could not help listening at the door to his + quiet breathing. + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow is watching while he sleeps,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + She took the freshest vine-leaves and arranged her dish of grapes as + coquettishly as a practised house-keeper might have done, and placed it + triumphantly on the table. She laid hands on the pears counted out by her + father, and piled them in a pyramid mixed with leaves. She went and came, + and skipped and ran. She would have liked to lay under contribution + everything in her father’s house; but the keys were in his pocket. Nanon + came back with two fresh eggs. At sight of them Eugenie almost hugged her + round the neck. + </p> + <p> + “The farmer from Lande had them in his basket. I asked him for them, and + he gave them to me, the darling, for nothing, as an attention!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + After two hours’ thought and care, during which Eugenie jumped up twenty + times from her work to see if the coffee were boiling, or to go and listen + to the noise her cousin made in dressing, she succeeded in preparing a + simple little breakfast, very inexpensive, but which, nevertheless, + departed alarmingly from the inveterate customs of the house. The midday + breakfast was always taken standing. Each took a slice of bread, a little + fruit or some butter, and a glass of wine. As Eugenie looked at the table + drawn up near the fire with an arm-chair placed before her cousin’s plate, + at the two dishes of fruit, the egg-cup, the bottle of white wine, the + bread, and the sugar heaped up in a saucer, she trembled in all her limbs + at the mere thought of the look her father would give her if he should + come in at that moment. She glanced often at the clock to see if her + cousin could breakfast before the master’s return. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be troubled, Eugenie; if your father comes in, I will take it all + upon myself,” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie could not repress a tear. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my good mother!” she cried, “I have never loved you enough.” + </p> + <p> + Charles, who had been tramping about his room for some time, singing to + himself, now came down. Happily, it was only eleven o’clock. The true + Parisian! he had put as much dandyism into his dress as if he were in the + chateau of the noble lady then travelling in Scotland. He came into the + room with the smiling, courteous manner so becoming to youth, which made + Eugenie’s heart beat with mournful joy. He had taken the destruction of + his castles in Anjou as a joke, and came up to his aunt gaily. + </p> + <p> + “Have you slept well, dear aunt? and you, too, my cousin?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, monsieur; did you?” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “I? perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be hungry, cousin,” said Eugenie; “will you take your seat?” + </p> + <p> + “I never breakfast before midday; I never get up till then. However, I + fared so badly on the journey that I am glad to eat something at once. + Besides—” here he pulled out the prettiest watch Breguet ever made. + “Dear me! I am early, it is only eleven o’clock!” + </p> + <p> + “Early?” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I wanted to put my things in order. Well, I shall be glad to + have anything to eat,—anything, it doesn’t matter what, a chicken, a + partridge.” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Nanon, overhearing the words. + </p> + <p> + “A partridge!” whispered Eugenie to herself; she would gladly have given + the whole of her little hoard for a partridge. + </p> + <p> + “Come and sit down,” said his aunt. + </p> + <p> + The young dandy let himself drop into an easy-chair, just as a pretty + woman falls gracefully upon a sofa. Eugenie and her mother took ordinary + chairs and sat beside him, near the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Do you always live here?” said Charles, thinking the room uglier by + daylight than it had seemed the night before. + </p> + <p> + “Always,” answered Eugenie, looking at him, “except during the vintage. + Then we go and help Nanon, and live at the Abbaye des Noyers.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you ever take walks?” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes on Sunday after vespers, when the weather is fine,” said Madame + Grandet, “we walk on the bridge, or we go and watch the haymakers.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you a theatre?” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the theatre!” exclaimed Madame Grandet, “see a play! Why, monsieur, + don’t you know it is a mortal sin?” + </p> + <p> + “See here, monsieur,” said Nanon, bringing in the eggs, “here are your + chickens,—in the shell.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! fresh eggs,” said Charles, who, like all people accustomed to luxury, + had already forgotten about his partridge, “that is delicious: now, if you + will give me the butter, my good girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Butter! then you can’t have the <i>galette</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, bring the butter,” cried Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + The young girl watched her cousin as he cut his sippets, with as much + pleasure as a grisette takes in a melodrama where innocence and virtue + triumph. Charles, brought up by a charming mother, improved, and trained + by a woman of fashion, had the elegant, dainty, foppish movements of a + coxcomb. The compassionate sympathy and tenderness of a young girl possess + a power that is actually magnetic; so that Charles, finding himself the + object of the attentions of his aunt and cousin, could not escape the + influence of feelings which flowed towards him, as it were, and inundated + him. He gave Eugenie a bright, caressing look full of kindness,—a + look which seemed itself a smile. He perceived, as his eyes lingered upon + her, the exquisite harmony of features in the pure face, the grace of her + innocent attitude, the magic clearness of the eyes, where young love + sparkled and desire shone unconsciously. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear cousin, if you were in full dress at the Opera, I assure you + my aunt’s words would come true,—you would make the men commit the + mortal sin of envy, and the women the sin of jealousy.” + </p> + <p> + The compliment went to Eugenie’s heart and set it beating, though she did + not understand its meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! cousin,” she said, “you are laughing at a poor little country girl.” + </p> + <p> + “If you knew me, my cousin, you would know that I abhor ridicule; it + withers the heart and jars upon all my feelings.” Here he swallowed his + buttered sippet very gracefully. “No, I really have not enough mind to + make fun of others; and doubtless it is a great defect. In Paris, when + they want to disparage a man, they say: ‘He has a good heart.’ The phrase + means: ‘The poor fellow is as stupid as a rhinoceros.’ But as I am rich, + and known to hit the bull’s-eye at thirty paces with any kind of pistol, + and even in the open fields, ridicule respects me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear nephew, that bespeaks a good heart.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a very pretty ring,” said Eugenie; “is there any harm in asking + to see it?” + </p> + <p> + Charles held out his hand after loosening the ring, and Eugenie blushed as + she touched the pink nails of her cousin with the tips of her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “See, mamma, what beautiful workmanship.” + </p> + <p> + “My! there’s a lot of gold!” said Nanon, bringing in the coffee. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” exclaimed Charles, laughing, as he pointed to an oblong + pot of brown earthenware, glazed on the inside, and edged with a fringe of + ashes, from the bottom of which the coffee-grounds were bubbling up and + falling in the boiling liquid. + </p> + <p> + “It is boiled coffee,” said Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear aunt, I shall at least leave one beneficent trace of my visit + here. You are indeed behind the age! I must teach you to make good coffee + in a Chaptal coffee-pot.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to explain the process of a Chaptal coffee-pot. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious! if there are so many things as all that to do,” said Nanon, “we + may as well give up our lives to it. I shall never make coffee that way; I + know that! Pray, who is to get the fodder for the cow while I make the + coffee?” + </p> + <p> + “I will make it,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Child!” said Madame Grandet, looking at her daughter. + </p> + <p> + The word recalled to their minds the sorrow that was about to fall upon + the unfortunate young man; the three women were silent, and looked at him + with an air of commiseration that caught his attention. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything the matter, my cousin?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Madame Grandet to Eugenie, who was about to answer; “you + know, my daughter, that your father charged us not to speak to monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + “Say Charles,” said young Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are called Charles? What a beautiful name!” cried Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + Presentiments of evil are almost always justified. At this moment Nanon, + Madame Grandet, and Eugenie, who had all three been thinking with a + shudder of the old man’s return, heard the knock whose echoes they knew + but too well. + </p> + <p> + “There’s papa!” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + She removed the saucer filled with sugar, leaving a few pieces on the + table-cloth; Nanon carried off the egg-cup; Madame Grandet sat up like a + frightened hare. It was evidently a panic, which amazed Charles, who was + wholly unable to understand it. + </p> + <p> + “Why! what is the matter?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “My father has come,” answered Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of that?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Grandet entered the room, threw his keen eye upon the table, upon + Charles, and saw the whole thing. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! so you have been making a feast for your nephew; very good, very + good, very good indeed!” he said, without stuttering. “When the cat’s + away, the mice will play.” + </p> + <p> + “Feast!” thought Charles, incapable of suspecting or imagining the rules + and customs of the household. + </p> + <p> + “Give me my glass, Nanon,” said the master + </p> + <p> + Eugenie brought the glass. Grandet drew a horn-handled knife with a big + blade from his breeches’ pocket, cut a slice of bread, took a small bit of + butter, spread it carefully on the bread, and ate it standing. At this + moment Charlie was sweetening his coffee. Pere Grandet saw the bits of + sugar, looked at his wife, who turned pale, and made three steps forward; + he leaned down to the poor woman’s ear and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get all that sugar?” + </p> + <p> + “Nanon fetched it from Fessard’s; there was none.” + </p> + <p> + It is impossible to picture the profound interest the three women took in + this mute scene. Nanon had left her kitchen and stood looking into the + room to see what would happen. Charles, having tasted his coffee, found it + bitter and glanced about for the sugar, which Grandet had already put + away. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” said his uncle. + </p> + <p> + “The sugar.” + </p> + <p> + “Put in more milk,” answered the master of the house; “your coffee will + taste sweeter.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie took the saucer which Grandet had put away and placed it on the + table, looking calmly at her father as she did so. Most assuredly, the + Parisian woman who held a silken ladder with her feeble arms to facilitate + the flight of her lover, showed no greater courage than Eugenie displayed + when she replaced the sugar upon the table. The lover rewarded his + mistress when she proudly showed him her beautiful bruised arm, and bathed + every swollen vein with tears and kisses till it was cured with happiness. + Charles, on the other hand, never so much as knew the secret of the cruel + agitation that shook and bruised the heart of his cousin, crushed as it + was by the look of the old miser. + </p> + <p> + “You are not eating your breakfast, wife.” + </p> + <p> + The poor helot came forward with a piteous look, cut herself a piece of + bread, and took a pear. Eugenie boldly offered her father some grapes, + saying,— + </p> + <p> + “Taste my preserves, papa. My cousin, you will eat some, will you not? I + went to get these pretty grapes expressly for you.” + </p> + <p> + “If no one stops them, they will pillage Saumur for you, nephew. When you + have finished, we will go into the garden; I have something to tell you + which can’t be sweetened.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie and her mother cast a look on Charles whose meaning the young man + could not mistake. + </p> + <p> + “What is it you mean, uncle? Since the death of my poor mother”—at + these words his voice softened—“no other sorrow can touch me.” + </p> + <p> + “My nephew, who knows by what afflictions God is pleased to try us?” said + his aunt. + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta,” said Grandet, “there’s your nonsense beginning. I am + sorry to see those white hands of yours, nephew”; and he showed the + shoulder-of-mutton fists which Nature had put at the end of his own arms. + “There’s a pair of hands made to pick up silver pieces. You’ve been + brought up to put your feet in the kid out of which we make the purses we + keep our money in. A bad look-out! Very bad!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, uncle? I’ll be hanged if I understand a single word of + what you are saying.” + </p> + <p> + “Come!” said Grandet. + </p> + <p> + The miser closed the blade of his knife with a snap, drank the last of his + wine, and opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “My cousin, take courage!” + </p> + <p> + The tone of the young girl struck terror to Charles’s heart, and he + followed his terrible uncle, a prey to disquieting thoughts. Eugenie, her + mother, and Nanon went into the kitchen, moved by irresistible curiosity + to watch the two actors in the scene which was about to take place in the + garden, where at first the uncle walked silently ahead of the nephew. + Grandet was not at all troubled at having to tell Charles of the death of + his father; but he did feel a sort of compassion in knowing him to be + without a penny, and he sought for some phrase or formula by which to + soften the communication of that cruel truth. “You have lost your father,” + seemed to him a mere nothing to say; fathers die before their children. + But “you are absolutely without means,”—all the misfortunes of life + were summed up in those words! Grandet walked round the garden three + times, the gravel crunching under his heavy step. + </p> + <p> + In the crucial moments of life our minds fasten upon the locality where + joys or sorrows overwhelm us. Charles noticed with minute attention the + box-borders of the little garden, the yellow leaves as they fluttered + down, the dilapidated walls, the gnarled fruit-trees,—picturesque + details which were destined to remain forever in his memory, blending + eternally, by the mnemonics that belong exclusively to the passions, with + the recollections of this solemn hour. + </p> + <p> + “It is very fine weather, very warm,” said Grandet, drawing a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, uncle; but why—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my lad,” answered his uncle, “I have some bad news to give you. + Your father is ill—” + </p> + <p> + “Then why am I here?” said Charles. “Nanon,” he cried, “order post-horses! + I can get a carriage somewhere?” he added, turning to his uncle, who stood + motionless. + </p> + <p> + “Horses and carriages are useless,” answered Grandet, looking at Charles, + who remained silent, his eyes growing fixed. “Yes, my poor boy, you guess + the truth,—he is dead. But that’s nothing; there is something worse: + he blew out his brains.” + </p> + <p> + “My father!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that’s not the worst; the newspapers are all talking about it. + Here, read that.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet, who had borrowed the fatal article from Cruchot, thrust the paper + under his nephew’s eyes. The poor young man, still a child, still at an + age when feelings wear no mask, burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “That’s good!” thought Grandet; “his eyes frightened me. He’ll be all + right if he weeps,—That is not the worst, my poor nephew,” he said + aloud, not noticing whether Charles heard him, “that is nothing; you will + get over it: but—” + </p> + <p> + “Never, never! My father! Oh, my father!” + </p> + <p> + “He has ruined you, you haven’t a penny.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter? My father! Where is my father?” + </p> + <p> + His sobs resounded horribly against those dreary walls and reverberated in + the echoes. The three women, filled with pity, wept also; for tears are + often as contagious as laughter. Charles, without listening further to his + uncle, ran through the court and up the staircase to his chamber, where he + threw himself across the bed and hid his face in the sheets, to weep in + peace for his lost parents. + </p> + <p> + “The first burst must have its way,” said Grandet, entering the + living-room, where Eugenie and her mother had hastily resumed their seats + and were sewing with trembling hands, after wiping their eyes. “But that + young man is good for nothing; his head is more taken up with the dead + than with his money.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie shuddered as she heard her father’s comment on the most sacred of + all griefs. From that moment she began to judge him. Charles’s sobs, + though muffled, still sounded through the sepulchral house; and his deep + groans, which seemed to come from the earth beneath, only ceased towards + evening, after growing gradually feebler. + </p> + <p> + “Poor young man!” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + Fatal exclamation! Pere Grandet looked at his wife, at Eugenie, and at the + sugar-bowl. He recollected the extraordinary breakfast prepared for the + unfortunate youth, and he took a position in the middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he said, with his usual composure. “I hope that you will + not continue this extravagance, Madame Grandet. I don’t give you MY money + to stuff that young fellow with sugar.” + </p> + <p> + “My mother had nothing to do with it,” said Eugenie; “it was I who—” + </p> + <p> + “Is it because you are of age,” said Grandet, interrupting his daughter, + “that you choose to contradict me? Remember, Eugenie—” + </p> + <p> + “Father, the son of your brother ought to receive from us—” + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta!” exclaimed the cooper on four chromatic tones; “the son + of my brother this, my nephew that! Charles is nothing at all to us; he + hasn’t a farthing, his father has failed; and when this dandy has cried + his fill, off he goes from here. I won’t have him revolutionize my + household.” + </p> + <p> + “What is ‘failing,’ father?” asked Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “To fail,” answered her father, “is to commit the most dishonorable action + that can disgrace a man.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be a great sin,” said Madame Grandet, “and our brother may be + damned.” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, don’t begin with your litanies!” said Grandet, shrugging + his shoulders. “To fail, Eugenie,” he resumed, “is to commit a theft which + the law, unfortunately, takes under its protection. People have given + their property to Guillaume Grandet trusting to his reputation for honor + and integrity; he has made away with it all, and left them nothing but + their eyes to weep with. A highway robber is better than a bankrupt: the + one attacks you and you can defend yourself, he risks his own life; but + the other—in short, Charles is dishonored.” + </p> + <p> + The words rang in the poor girl’s heart and weighed it down with their + heavy meaning. Upright and delicate as a flower born in the depths of a + forest, she knew nothing of the world’s maxims, of its deceitful arguments + and specious sophisms; she therefore believed the atrocious explanation + which her father gave her designedly, concealing the distinction which + exists between an involuntary failure and an intentional one. + </p> + <p> + “Father, could you not have prevented such a misfortune?” + </p> + <p> + “My brother did not consult me. Besides, he owes four millions.” + </p> + <p> + “What is a ‘million,’ father?” she asked, with the simplicity of a child + which thinks it can find out at once all that it wants to know. + </p> + <p> + “A million?” said Grandet, “why, it is a million pieces of twenty sous + each, and it takes five twenty sous pieces to make five francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” cried Eugenie, “how could my uncle possibly have had four + millions? Is there any one else in France who ever had so many millions?” + Pere Grandet stroked his chin, smiled, and his wen seemed to dilate. “But + what will become of my cousin Charles?” + </p> + <p> + “He is going off to the West Indies by his father’s request, and he will + try to make his fortune there.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he got the money to go with?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay for his journey as far as—yes, as far as Nantes.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie sprang into his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, father, how good you are!” + </p> + <p> + She kissed him with a warmth that almost made Grandet ashamed of himself, + for his conscience galled him a little. + </p> + <p> + “Will it take much time to amass a million?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” said the old miser, “you know what a napoleon is? Well, it + takes fifty thousand napoleons to make a million.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, we must say a great many <i>neuvaines</i> for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking so,” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the way, always spending my money!” cried the father. “Do you + think there are francs on every bush?” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a muffled cry, more distressing than all the others, echoed + through the garrets and struck a chill to the hearts of Eugenie and her + mother. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, go upstairs and see that he does not kill himself,” said Grandet. + “Now, then,” he added, looking at his wife and daughter, who had turned + pale at his words, “no nonsense, you two! I must leave you; I have got to + see about the Dutchmen who are going away to-day. And then I must find + Cruchot, and talk with him about all this.” + </p> + <p> + He departed. As soon as he had shut the door Eugenie and her mother + breathed more freely. Until this morning the young girl had never felt + constrained in the presence of her father; but for the last few hours + every moment wrought a change in her feelings and ideas. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, how many louis are there in a cask of wine?” + </p> + <p> + “Your father sells his from a hundred to a hundred and fifty francs, + sometimes two hundred,—at least, so I’ve heard say.” + </p> + <p> + “Then papa must be rich?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he is. But Monsieur Cruchot told me he bought Froidfond two years + ago; that may have pinched him.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie, not being able to understand the question of her father’s + fortune, stopped short in her calculations. + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t even see me, the darling!” said Nanon, coming back from her + errand. “He’s stretched out like a calf on his bed and crying like the + Madeleine, and that’s a blessing! What’s the matter with the poor dear + young man!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go and console him, mamma; if any one knocks, we can come down.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet was helpless against the sweet persuasive tones of her + daughter’s voice. Eugenie was sublime: she had become a woman. The two, + with beating hearts, went up to Charles’s room. The door was open. The + young man heard and saw nothing; plunged in grief, he only uttered + inarticulate cries. + </p> + <p> + “How he loves his father!” said Eugenie in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + In the utterance of those words it was impossible to mistake the hopes of + a heart that, unknown to itself, had suddenly become passionate. Madame + Grandet cast a mother’s look upon her daughter, and then whispered in her + ear,— + </p> + <p> + “Take care, you will love him!” + </p> + <p> + “Love him!” answered Eugenie. “Ah! if you did but know what my father said + to Monsieur Cruchot.” + </p> + <p> + Charles turned over, and saw his aunt and cousin. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my father, my poor father! If he had told me his secret + troubles we might have worked together to repair them. My God! my poor + father! I was so sure I should see him again that I think I kissed him + quite coldly—” + </p> + <p> + Sobs cut short the words. + </p> + <p> + “We will pray for him,” said Madame Grandet. “Resign yourself to the will + of God.” + </p> + <p> + “Cousin,” said Eugenie, “take courage! Your loss is irreparable; therefore + think only of saving your honor.” + </p> + <p> + With the delicate instinct of a woman who intuitively puts her mind into + all things, even at the moment when she offers consolation, Eugenie sought + to cheat her cousin’s grief by turning his thoughts inward upon himself. + </p> + <p> + “My honor?” exclaimed the young man, tossing aside his hair with an + impatient gesture as he sat up on his bed and crossed his arms. “Ah! that + is true. My uncle said my father had failed.” He uttered a heart-rending + cry, and hid his face in his hands. “Leave me, leave me, cousin! My God! + my God! forgive my father, for he must have suffered sorely!” + </p> + <p> + There was something terribly attractive in the sight of this young sorrow, + sincere without reasoning or afterthought. It was a virgin grief which the + simple hearts of Eugenie and her mother were fitted to comprehend, and + they obeyed the sign Charles made them to leave him to himself. They went + downstairs in silence and took their accustomed places by the window and + sewed for nearly an hour without exchanging a word. Eugenie had seen in + the furtive glance that she cast about the young man’s room—that + girlish glance which sees all in the twinkling of an eye—the pretty + trifles of his dressing-case, his scissors, his razors embossed with gold. + This gleam of luxury across her cousin’s grief only made him the more + interesting to her, possibly by way of contrast. Never before had so + serious an event, so dramatic a sight, touched the imaginations of these + two passive beings, hitherto sunk in the stillness and calm of solitude. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” said Eugenie, “we must wear mourning for my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father will decide that,” answered Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + They relapsed into silence. Eugenie drew her stitches with a uniform + motion which revealed to an observer the teeming thoughts of her + meditation. The first desire of the girl’s heart was to share her cousin’s + mourning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + About four o’clock an abrupt knock at the door struck sharply on the heart + of Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “What can have happened to your father?” she said to her daughter. + </p> + <p> + Grandet entered joyously. After taking off his gloves, he rubbed his hands + hard enough to take off their skin as well, if his epidermis had not been + tanned and cured like Russia leather,—saving, of course, the perfume + of larch-trees and incense. Presently his secret escaped him. + </p> + <p> + “Wife,” he said, without stuttering, “I’ve trapped them all! Our wine is + sold! The Dutch and the Belgians have gone. I walked about the + market-place in front of their inn, pretending to be doing nothing. That + Belgian fellow—you know who I mean—came up to me. The owners + of all the good vineyards have kept back their vintages, intending to + wait; well, I didn’t hinder them. The Belgian was in despair; I saw that. + In a minute the bargain was made. He takes my vintage at two hundred + francs the puncheon, half down. He paid me in gold; the notes are drawn. + Here are six louis for you. In three months wines will have fallen.” + </p> + <p> + These words, uttered in a quiet tone of voice, were nevertheless so + bitterly sarcastic that the inhabitants of Saumur, grouped at this moment + in the market-place and overwhelmed by the news of the sale Grandet had + just effected, would have shuddered had they heard them. Their panic would + have brought the price of wines down fifty per cent at once. + </p> + <p> + “Did you have a thousand puncheons this year, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, little one.” + </p> + <p> + That term applied to his daughter was the superlative expression of the + old miser’s joy. + </p> + <p> + “Then that makes two hundred thousand pieces of twenty sous each?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mademoiselle Grandet.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, father, you can easily help Charles.” + </p> + <p> + The amazement, the anger, the stupefaction of Belshazzar when he saw the + <i>Mene-Tekel-Upharsin</i> before his eyes is not to be compared with the + cold rage of Grandet, who, having forgotten his nephew, now found him + enshrined in the heart and calculations of his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “What’s this? Ever since that dandy put foot in <i>my</i> house everything + goes wrong! You behave as if you had the right to buy sugar-plums and make + feasts and weddings. I won’t have that sort of thing. I hope I know my + duty at my time of life! I certainly sha’n’t take lessons from my + daughter, or from anybody else. I shall do for my nephew what it is proper + to do, and you have no need to poke your nose into it. As for you, + Eugenie,” he added, facing her, “don’t speak of this again, or I’ll send + you to the Abbaye des Noyers with Nanon, see if I don’t; and no later than + to-morrow either, if you disobey me! Where is that fellow, has he come + down yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my friend,” answered Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “What is he doing then?” + </p> + <p> + “He is weeping for his father,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + Grandet looked at his daughter without finding a word to say; after all, + he was a father. He made a couple of turns up and down the room, and then + went hurriedly to his secret den to think over an investment he was + meditating in the public Funds. The thinning out of his two thousand acres + of forest land had yielded him six hundred thousand francs: putting this + sum to that derived from the sale of his poplars and to his other gains + for the last year and for the current year, he had amassed a total of nine + hundred thousand francs, without counting the two hundred thousand he had + got by the sale just concluded. The twenty per cent which Cruchot assured + him would gain in a short time from the Funds, then quoted at seventy, + tempted him. He figured out his calculation on the margin of the newspaper + which gave the account of his brother’s death, all the while hearing the + moans of his nephew, but without listening to them. Nanon came and knocked + on the wall to summon him to dinner. On the last step of the staircase he + was saying to himself as he came down,— + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do it; I shall get eight per cent interest. In two years I shall + have fifteen hundred thousand francs, which I will then draw out in good + gold,—Well, where’s my nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “He says he doesn’t want anything to eat,” answered Nanon; “that’s not + good for him.” + </p> + <p> + “So much saved,” retorted her master. + </p> + <p> + “That’s so,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! he won’t cry long. Hunger drives the wolves out of the woods.” + </p> + <p> + The dinner was eaten in silence. + </p> + <p> + “My good friend,” said Madame Grandet, when the cloth was removed, “we + must put on mourning.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, Madame Grandet! what will you invent next to spend money + on? Mourning is in the heart, and not in the clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “But mourning for a brother is indispensable; and the Church commands us + to—” + </p> + <p> + “Buy your mourning out of your six louis. Give me a hat-band; that’s + enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie raised her eyes to heaven without uttering a word. Her generous + instincts, slumbering and long repressed but now suddenly and for the + first time awakened, were galled at every turn. The evening passed to all + appearance like a thousand other evenings of their monotonous life, yet it + was certainly the most horrible. Eugenie sewed without raising her head, + and did not use the workbox which Charles had despised the night before. + Madame Grandet knitted her sleeves. Grandet twirled his thumbs for four + hours, absorbed in calculations whose results were on the morrow to + astonish Saumur. No one came to visit the family that day. The whole town + was ringing with the news of the business trick just played by Grandet, + the failure of his brother, and the arrival of his nephew. Obeying the + desire to gossip over their mutual interests, all the upper and + middle-class wine-growers in Saumur met at Monsieur des Grassins, where + terrible imprecations were being fulminated against the ex-mayor. Nanon + was spinning, and the whirr of her wheel was the only sound heard beneath + the gray rafters of that silent hall. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t waste our tongues,” she said, showing her teeth, as large and + white as peeled almonds. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing should be wasted,” answered Grandet, rousing himself from his + reverie. He saw a perspective of eight millions in three years, and he was + sailing along that sheet of gold. “Let us go to bed. I will bid my nephew + good-night for the rest of you, and see if he will take anything.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet remained on the landing of the first storey to hear the + conversation that was about to take place between the goodman and his + nephew. Eugenie, bolder than her mother, went up two stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Well, nephew, you are in trouble. Yes, weep, that’s natural. A father is + a father; but we must bear our troubles patiently. I am a good uncle to + you, remember that. Come, take courage! Will you have a little glass of + wine?” (Wine costs nothing in Saumur, and they offer it as tea is offered + in China.) “Why!” added Grandet, “you have got no light! That’s bad, very + bad; you ought to see what you are about,” and he walked to the + chimney-piece. “What’s this?” he cried. “A wax candle! How the devil did + they filch a wax candle? The spendthrifts would tear down the ceilings of + my house to boil the fellow’s eggs.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these words, mother and daughter slipped back into their rooms and + burrowed in their beds, with the celerity of frightened mice getting back + to their holes. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Grandet, have you found a mine?” said the man, coming into the + chamber of his wife. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, wait; I am saying my prayers,” said the poor mother in a + trembling voice. + </p> + <p> + “The devil take your good God!” growled Grandet in reply. + </p> + <p> + Misers have no belief in a future life; the present is their all in all. + This thought casts a terrible light upon our present epoch, in which, far + more than at any former period, money sways the laws and politics and + morals. Institutions, books, men, and dogmas, all conspire to undermine + belief in a future life,—a belief upon which the social edifice has + rested for eighteen hundred years. The grave, as a means of transition, is + little feared in our day. The future, which once opened to us beyond the + requiems, has now been imported into the present. To obtain <i>per fas et + nefas</i> a terrestrial paradise of luxury and earthly enjoyment, to + harden the heart and macerate the body for the sake of fleeting + possessions, as the martyrs once suffered all things to reach eternal + joys, this is now the universal thought—a thought written + everywhere, even in the very laws which ask of the legislator, “What do + you pay?” instead of asking him, “What do you think?” When this doctrine + has passed down from the bourgeoisie to the populace, where will this + country be? + </p> + <p> + “Madame Grandet, have you done?” asked the old man. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, I am praying for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good! Good-night; to-morrow morning we will have a talk.” + </p> + <p> + The poor woman went to sleep like a schoolboy who, not having learned his + lessons, knows he will see his master’s angry face on the morrow. At the + moment when, filled with fear, she was drawing the sheet above her head + that she might stifle hearing, Eugenie, in her night-gown and with naked + feet, ran to her side and kissed her brow. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my good mother,” she said, “to-morrow I will tell him it was I.” + </p> + <p> + “No; he would send you to Noyers. Leave me to manage it; he cannot eat + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear, mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>He</i> is weeping still.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed, my daughter; you will take cold in your feet: the floor is + damp.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Thus passed the solemn day which was destined to weight upon the whole + life of the rich and poor heiress, whose sleep was never again to be so + calm, nor yet so pure, as it had been up to this moment. It often happens + that certain actions of human life seem, literally speaking, improbable, + though actual. Is not this because we constantly omit to turn the stream + of psychological light upon our impulsive determinations, and fail to + explain the subtile reasons, mysteriously conceived in our minds, which + impelled them? Perhaps Eugenie’s deep passion should be analyzed in its + most delicate fibres; for it became, scoffers might say, a malady which + influenced her whole existence. Many people prefer to deny results rather + than estimate the force of ties and links and bonds, which secretly join + one fact to another in the moral order. Here, therefore, Eugenie’s past + life will offer to observers of human nature an explanation of her naive + want of reflection and the suddenness of the emotions which overflowed her + soul. The more tranquil her life had been, the more vivid was her womanly + pity, the more simple-minded were the sentiments now developed in her + soul. + </p> + <p> + Made restless by the events of the day, she woke at intervals to listen to + her cousin, thinking she heard the sighs which still echoed in her heart. + Sometimes she saw him dying of his trouble, sometimes she dreamed that he + fainted from hunger. Towards morning she was certain that she heard a + startling cry. She dressed at once and ran, in the dawning light, with a + swift foot to her cousin’s chamber, the door of which he had left open. + The candle had burned down to the socket. Charles, overcome by nature, was + sleeping, dressed and sitting in an armchair beside the bed, on which his + head rested; he dreamed as men dream on an empty stomach. Eugenie might + weep at her ease; she might admire the young and handsome face blotted + with grief, the eyes swollen with weeping, that seemed, sleeping as they + were, to well forth tears. Charles felt sympathetically the young girl’s + presence; he opened his eyes and saw her pitying him. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my cousin,” he said, evidently not knowing the hour nor the + place in which he found himself. + </p> + <p> + “There are hearts who hear you, cousin, and <i>we</i> thought you might + need something. You should go to bed; you tire yourself by sitting thus.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, adieu!” + </p> + <p> + She escaped, ashamed and happy at having gone there. Innocence alone can + dare to be so bold. Once enlightened, virtue makes her calculations as + well as vice. Eugenie, who had not trembled beside her cousin, could + scarcely stand upon her legs when she regained her chamber. Her ignorant + life had suddenly come to an end; she reasoned, she rebuked herself with + many reproaches. + </p> + <p> + “What will he think of me? He will think that I love him!” + </p> + <p> + That was what she most wished him to think. An honest love has its own + prescience, and knows that love begets love. What an event for this poor + solitary girl thus to have entered the chamber of a young man! Are there + not thoughts and actions in the life of love which to certain souls bear + the full meaning of the holiest espousals? An hour later she went to her + mother and dressed her as usual. Then they both came down and sat in their + places before the window waiting for Grandet, with that cruel anxiety + which, according to the individual character, freezes the heart or warms + it, shrivels or dilates it, when a scene is feared, a punishment expected,—a + feeling so natural that even domestic animals possess it, and whine at the + slightest pain of punishment, though they make no outcry when they + inadvertently hurt themselves. The goodman came down; but he spoke to his + wife with an absent manner, kissed Eugenie, and sat down to table without + appearing to remember his threats of the night before. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of my nephew? The lad gives no trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, he is asleep,” answered Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “So much the better; he won’t want a wax candle,” said Grandet in a + jeering tone. + </p> + <p> + This unusual clemency, this bitter gaiety, struck Madame Grandet with + amazement, and she looked at her husband attentively. The goodman—here + it may be well to explain that in Touraine, Anjou, Pitou, and Bretagne the + word “goodman,” already used to designate Grandet, is bestowed as often + upon harsh and cruel men as upon those of kindly temperament, when either + have reached a certain age; the title means nothing on the score of + individual gentleness—the goodman took his hat and gloves, saying as + he went out,— + </p> + <p> + “I am going to loiter about the market-place and find Cruchot.” + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie, your father certainly has something on his mind.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet, who was a poor sleeper, employed half his nights in the + preliminary calculations which gave such astonishing accuracy to his views + and observations and schemes, and secured to them the unfailing success at + sight of which his townsmen stood amazed. All human power is a compound of + time and patience. Powerful beings will and wait. The life of a miser is + the constant exercise of human power put to the service of self. It rests + on two sentiments only,—self-love and self-interest; but + self-interest being to a certain extent compact and intelligent self-love, + the visible sign of real superiority, it follows that self-love and + self-interest are two parts of the same whole,—egotism. From this + arises, perhaps, the excessive curiosity shown in the habits of a miser’s + life whenever they are put before the world. Every nature holds by a + thread to those beings who challenge all human sentiments by concentrating + all in one passion. Where is the man without desire? and what social + desire can be satisfied without money? + </p> + <p> + Grandet unquestionably “had something on his mind,” to use his wife’s + expression. There was in him, as in all misers, a persistent craving to + play a commercial game with other men and win their money legally. To + impose upon other people was to him a sign of power, a perpetual proof + that he had won the right to despise those feeble beings who suffer + themselves to be preyed upon in this world. Oh! who has ever truly + understood the lamb lying peacefully at the feet of God?—touching + emblem of all terrestrial victims, myth of their future, suffering and + weakness glorified! This lamb it is which the miser fattens, puts in his + fold, slaughters, cooks, eats, and then despises. The pasture of misers is + compounded of money and disdain. During the night Grandet’s ideas had + taken another course, which was the reason of his sudden clemency. He had + hatched a plot by which to trick the Parisians, to decoy and dupe and + snare them, to drive them into a trap, and make them go and come and sweat + and hope and turn pale,—a plot by which to amuse himself, the old + provincial cooper, sitting there beneath his gloomy rafters, or passing up + and down the rotten staircase of his house in Saumur. His nephew filled + his mind. He wished to save the honor of his dead brother without the cost + of a penny to the son or to himself. His own funds he was about to invest + for three years; he had therefore nothing further to do than to manage his + property in Saumur. He needed some nutriment for his malicious activity, + and he found it suddenly in his brother’s failure. Feeling nothing to + squeeze between his own paws, he resolved to crush the Parisians in behalf + of Charles, and to play the part of a good brother on the cheapest terms. + The honor of the family counted for so little in this scheme that his good + intentions might be likened to the interest a gambler takes in seeing a + game well played in which he has no stake. The Cruchots were a necessary + part of his plan; but he would not seek them,—he resolved to make + them come to him, and to lead up that very evening to a comedy whose plot + he had just conceived, which should make him on the morrow an object of + admiration to the whole town without its costing him a single penny. + </p> + <p> + In her father’s absence Eugenie had the happiness of busying herself + openly with her much-loved cousin, of spending upon him fearlessly the + treasures of her pity,—woman’s sublime superiority, the sole she + desires to have recognized, the sole she pardons man for letting her + assume. Three or four times the young girl went to listen to her cousin’s + breathing, to know if he were sleeping or awake; then, when he had risen, + she turned her thoughts to the cream, the eggs, the fruits, the plates, + the glasses,—all that was a part of his breakfast became the object + of some special care. At length she ran lightly up the old staircase to + listen to the noise her cousin made. Was he dressing? Did he still weep? + She reached the door. + </p> + <p> + “My cousin!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, cousin.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you breakfast downstairs, or in your room?” + </p> + <p> + “Where you like.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear cousin, I am ashamed of being hungry.” + </p> + <p> + This conversation, held through the closed door, was like an episode in a + poem to Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, we will bring your breakfast to your own room, so as not to + annoy my father.” + </p> + <p> + She ran to the kitchen with the swiftness and lightness of a bird. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, go and do his room!” + </p> + <p> + That staircase, so often traversed, which echoed to the slightest noise, + now lost its decaying aspect in the eyes of Eugenie. It grew luminous; it + had a voice and spoke to her; it was young like herself,—young like + the love it was now serving. Her mother, her kind, indulgent mother, lent + herself to the caprices of the child’s love, and after the room was put in + order, both went to sit with the unhappy youth and keep him company. Does + not Christian charity make consolation a duty? The two women drew a goodly + number of little sophistries from their religion wherewith to justify + their conduct. Charles was made the object of the tenderest and most + loving care. His saddened heart felt the sweetness of the gentle + friendship, the exquisite sympathy which these two souls, crushed under + perpetual restraint, knew so well how to display when, for an instant, + they were left unfettered in the regions of suffering, their natural + sphere. + </p> + <p> + Claiming the right of relationship, Eugenie began to fold the linen and + put in order the toilet articles which Charles had brought; thus she could + marvel at her ease over each luxurious bauble and the various knick-knacks + of silver or chased gold, which she held long in her hand under a pretext + of examining them. Charles could not see without emotion the generous + interest his aunt and cousin felt in him; he knew society in Paris well + enough to feel assured that, placed as he now was, he would find all + hearts indifferent or cold. Eugenie thus appeared to him in the splendor + of a special beauty, and from thenceforth he admired the innocence of life + and manners which the previous evening he had been inclined to ridicule. + So when Eugenie took from Nanon the bowl of coffee and cream, and began to + pour it out for her cousin with the simplicity of real feeling, giving him + a kindly glance, the eyes of the Parisian filled with tears; he took her + hand and kissed it. + </p> + <p> + “What troubles you?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! these are tears of gratitude,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie turned abruptly to the chimney-piece to take the candlesticks. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Nanon, carry them away!” she said. + </p> + <p> + When she looked again towards her cousin she was still blushing, but her + looks could at least deceive, and did not betray the excess of joy which + innundated her heart; yet the eyes of both expressed the same sentiment as + their souls flowed together in one thought,—the future was theirs. + This soft emotion was all the more precious to Charles in the midst of his + heavy grief because it was wholly unexpected. The sound of the knocker + recalled the women to their usual station. Happily they were able to run + downstairs with sufficient rapidity to be seated at their work when + Grandet entered; had he met them under the archway it would have been + enough to rouse his suspicions. After breakfast, which the goodman took + standing, the keeper from Froidfond, to whom the promised indemnity had + never yet been paid, made his appearance, bearing a hare and some + partridges shot in the park, with eels and two pike sent as tribute by the + millers. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! poor Cornoiller; here he comes, like fish in Lent. Is all that + fit to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear, generous master; it has been killed two days.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Nanon, bestir yourself,” said Grandet; “take these things, they’ll + do for dinner. I have invited the two Cruchots.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon opened her eyes, stupid with amazement, and looked at everybody in + the room. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” she said, “and how am I to get the lard and the spices?” + </p> + <p> + “Wife,” said Grandet, “give Nanon six francs, and remind me to get some of + the good wine out of the cellar.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Monsieur Grandet,” said the keeper, who had come prepared + with an harangue for the purpose of settling the question of the + indemnity, “Monsieur Grandet—” + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta!” said Grandet; “I know what you want to say. You are a + good fellow; we will see about it to-morrow, I’m too busy to-day. Wife, + give him five francs,” he added to Madame Grandet as he decamped. + </p> + <p> + The poor woman was only too happy to buy peace at the cost of eleven + francs. She knew that Grandet would let her alone for a fortnight after he + had thus taken back, franc by franc, the money he had given her. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Cornoiller,” she said, slipping ten francs into the man’s hand, + “some day we will reward your services.” + </p> + <p> + Cornoiller could say nothing, so he went away. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Nanon, who had put on her black coif and taken her basket, + “I want only three francs. You keep the rest; it’ll go fast enough + somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a good dinner, Nanon; my cousin will come down,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Something very extraordinary is going on, I am certain of it,” said + Madame Grandet. “This is only the third time since our marriage that your + father has given a dinner.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + About four o’clock, just as Eugenie and her mother had finished setting + the table for six persons, and after the master of the house had brought + up a few bottles of the exquisite wine which provincials cherish with true + affection, Charles came down into the hall. The young fellow was pale; his + gestures, the expression of his face, his glance, and the tones of his + voice, all had a sadness which was full of grace. He was not pretending + grief, he truly suffered; and the veil of pain cast over his features gave + him an interesting air dear to the heart of women. Eugenie loved him the + more for it. Perhaps she felt that sorrow drew him nearer to her. Charles + was no longer the rich and distinguished young man placed in a sphere far + above her, but a relation plunged into frightful misery. Misery begets + equality. Women have this in common with the angels,—suffering + humanity belongs to them. Charles and Eugenie understood each other and + spoke only with their eyes; for the poor fallen dandy, orphaned and + impoverished, sat apart in a corner of the room, and was proudly calm and + silent. Yet, from time to time, the gentle and caressing glance of the + young girl shone upon him and constrained him away from his sad thoughts, + drawing him with her into the fields of hope and of futurity, where she + loved to hold him at her side. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII + </h2> + <p> + At this moment the town of Saumur was more excited about the dinner given + by Grandet to the Cruchots than it had been the night before at the sale + of his vintage, though that constituted a crime of high-treason against + the whole wine-growing community. If the politic old miser had given his + dinner from the same idea that cost the dog of Alcibiades his tail, he + might perhaps have been called a great man; but the fact is, considering + himself superior to a community which he could trick on all occasions, he + paid very little heed to what Saumur might say. + </p> + <p> + The des Grassins soon learned the facts of the failure and the violent + death of Guillaume Grandet, and they determined to go to their client’s + house that very evening to commiserate his misfortune and show him some + marks of friendship, with a view of ascertaining the motives which had led + him to invite the Cruchots to dinner. At precisely five o’clock Monsieur + C. de Bonfons and his uncle the notary arrived in their Sunday clothes. + The party sat down to table and began to dine with good appetites. Grandet + was grave, Charles silent, Eugenie dumb, and Madame Grandet did not say + more than usual; so that the dinner was, very properly, a repast of + condolence. When they rose from table Charles said to his aunt and uncle,— + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me to retire? I am obliged to undertake a long and + painful correspondence.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, nephew.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as the goodman was certain that Charles could hear nothing and was + probably deep in his letter-writing, he said, with a dissimulating glance + at his wife,— + </p> + <p> + “Madame Grandet, what we have to talk about will be Latin to you; it is + half-past seven; you can go and attend to your household accounts. + Good-night, my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed Eugenie, and the two women departed. A scene now took place in + which Pere Grandet brought to bear, more than at any other moment of his + life, the shrewd dexterity he had acquired in his intercourse with men, + and which had won him from those whose flesh he sometimes bit too sharply + the nickname of “the old dog.” If the mayor of Saumur had carried his + ambition higher still, if fortunate circumstances, drawing him towards the + higher social spheres, had sent him into congresses where the affairs of + nations were discussed, and had he there employed the genius with which + his personal interests had endowed him, he would undoubtedly have proved + nobly useful to his native land. Yet it is perhaps equally certain that + outside of Saumur the goodman would have cut a very sorry figure. Possibly + there are minds like certain animals which cease to breed when + transplanted from the climates in which they are born. + </p> + <p> + “M-m-mon-sieur le p-p-president, you said t-t-that b-b-bankruptcy—” + </p> + <p> + The stutter which for years the old miser had assumed when it suited him, + and which, together with the deafness of which he sometimes complained in + rainy weather, was thought in Saumur to be a natural defect, became at + this crisis so wearisome to the two Cruchots that while they listened they + unconsciously made faces and moved their lips, as if pronouncing the words + over which he was hesitating and stuttering at will. Here it may be well + to give the history of this impediment of the speech and hearing of + Monsieur Grandet. No one in Anjou heard better, or could pronounce more + crisply the French language (with an Angevin accent) than the wily old + cooper. Some years earlier, in spite of his shrewdness, he had been taken + in by an Israelite, who in the course of the discussion held his hand + behind his ear to catch sounds, and mangled his meaning so thoroughly in + trying to utter his words that Grandet fell a victim to his humanity and + was compelled to prompt the wily Jew with the words and ideas he seemed to + seek, to complete himself the arguments of the said Jew, to say what that + cursed Jew ought to have said for himself; in short, to be the Jew instead + of being Grandet. When the cooper came out of this curious encounter he + had concluded the only bargain of which in the course of a long commercial + life he ever had occasion to complain. But if he lost at the time + pecuniarily, he gained morally a valuable lesson; later, he gathered its + fruits. Indeed, the goodman ended by blessing that Jew for having taught + him the art of irritating his commercial antagonist and leading him to + forget his own thoughts in his impatience to suggest those over which his + tormentor was stuttering. No affair had ever needed the assistance of + deafness, impediments of speech, and all the incomprehensible + circumlocutions with which Grandet enveloped his ideas, as much as the + affair now in hand. In the first place, he did not mean to shoulder the + responsibility of his own scheme; in the next, he was determined to remain + master of the conversation and to leave his real intentions in doubt. + </p> + <p> + “M-m-monsieur de B-B-Bonfons,”—for the second time in three years + Grandet called the Cruchot nephew Monsieur de Bonfons; the president felt + he might consider himself the artful old fellow’s son-in-law,—“you-ou + said th-th-that b-b-bankruptcy c-c-could, in some c-c-cases, b-b-be + p-p-prevented b-b-by—” + </p> + <p> + “By the courts of commerce themselves. It is done constantly,” said + Monsieur C. de Bonfons, bestriding Grandet’s meaning, or thinking he + guessed it, and kindly wishing to help him out with it. “Listen.” + </p> + <p> + “Y-yes,” said Grandet humbly, with the mischievous expression of a boy who + is inwardly laughing at his teacher while he pays him the greatest + attention. + </p> + <p> + “When a man so respected and important as, for example, your late brother—” + </p> + <p> + “M-my b-b-brother, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “—is threatened with insolvency—” + </p> + <p> + “They c-c-call it in-ins-s-solvency?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; when his failure is imminent, the court of commerce, to which he is + amenable (please follow me attentively), has the power, by a decree, to + appoint a receiver. Liquidation, you understand, is not the same as + failure. When a man fails, he is dishonored; but when he merely + liquidates, he remains an honest man.” + </p> + <p> + “T-t-that’s very d-d-different, if it d-d-doesn’t c-c-cost m-m-more,” said + Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “But a liquidation can be managed without having recourse to the courts at + all. For,” said the president, sniffing a pinch of snuff, “don’t you know + how failures are declared?” + </p> + <p> + “N-n-no, I n-n-never t-t-thought,” answered Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” resumed the magistrate, “by filing the schedule in + the record office of the court, which the merchant may do himself, or his + representative for him with a power of attorney duly certified. In the + second place, the failure may be declared under compulsion from the + creditors. Now if the merchant does not file his schedule, and if no + creditor appears before the courts to obtain a decree of insolvency + against the merchant, what happens?” + </p> + <p> + “W-w-what h-h-happens?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the family of the deceased, his representatives, his heirs, or the + merchant himself, if he is not dead, or his friends if he is only hiding, + liquidate his business. Perhaps you would like to liquidate your brother’s + affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Grandet,” said the notary, “that would be the right thing to do. + There is honor down here in the provinces. If you save your name—for + it is your name—you will be a man—” + </p> + <p> + “A noble man!” cried the president, interrupting his uncle. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” answered the old man, “my b-b-brother’s name was G-G-Grandet, + like m-m-mine. Th-that’s c-c-certain; I d-d-don’t d-d-deny it. And + th-th-this l-l-liquidation might be, in m-m-many ways, v-v-very + advan-t-t-tageous t-t-to the interests of m-m-my n-n-nephew, whom I + l-l-love. But I must consider. I don’t k-k-know the t-t-tricks of + P-P-Paris. I b-b-belong to Sau-m-mur, d-d-don’t you see? M-m-my vines, my + d-d-drains—in short, I’ve my own b-b-business. I never g-g-give + n-n-notes. What are n-n-notes? I t-t-take a good m-m-many, but I have + never s-s-signed one. I d-d-don’t understand such things. I have h-h-heard + say that n-n-notes c-c-can be b-b-bought up.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said the president. “Notes can be bought in the market, less + so much per cent. Don’t you understand?” + </p> + <p> + Grandet made an ear-trumpet of his hand, and the president repeated his + words. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” replied the man, “there’s s-s-something to be g-g-got out of + it? I k-know n-nothing at my age about such th-th-things. I l-l-live here + and l-l-look after the v-v-vines. The vines g-g-grow, and it’s the + w-w-wine that p-p-pays. L-l-look after the v-v-vintage, t-t-that’s my + r-r-rule. My c-c-chief interests are at Froidfond. I c-c-can’t l-l-leave + my h-h-house to m-m-muddle myself with a d-d-devilish b-b-business I + kn-know n-n-nothing about. You say I ought to l-l-liquidate my + b-b-brother’s af-f-fairs, to p-p-prevent the f-f-failure. I c-c-can’t be + in two p-p-places at once, unless I were a little b-b-bird, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” cried the notary. “Well, my old friend, you have friends, + old friends, capable of devoting themselves to your interests.” + </p> + <p> + “All right!” thought Grandet, “make haste and come to the point!” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose one of them went to Paris and saw your brother Guillaume’s chief + creditor and said to him—” + </p> + <p> + “One m-m-moment,” interrupted the goodman, “said wh-wh-what? Something + l-l-like this. Monsieur Gr-Grandet of Saumur this, Monsieur Grandet of + Saumur that. He l-loves his b-b-brother, he loves his n-nephew. Grandet is + a g-g-good uncle; he m-m-means well. He has sold his v-v-vintage. + D-d-don’t declare a f-f-failure; c-c-call a meeting; l-l-liquidate; and + then Gr-Gr-Grandet will see what he c-c-can do. B-b-better liquidate than + l-let the l-l-law st-st-stick its n-n-nose in. Hein? isn’t it so?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” said the president. + </p> + <p> + “B-because, don’t you see, Monsieur de B-Bonfons, a man must l-l-look + b-b-before he l-leaps. If you c-c-can’t, you c-c-can’t. M-m-must know all + about the m-m-matter, all the resources and the debts, if you d-d-don’t + want to be r-r-ruined. Hein? isn’t it so?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the president. “I’m of opinion that in a few months the + debts might be bought up for a certain sum, and then paid in full by an + agreement. Ha! ha! you can coax a dog a long way if you show him a bit of + lard. If there has been no declaration of failure, and you hold a lien on + the debts, you come out of the business as white as the driven snow.” + </p> + <p> + “Sn-n-now,” said Grandet, putting his hand to his ear, “wh-wh-what about + s-now?” + </p> + <p> + “But,” cried the president, “do pray attend to what I am saying.” + </p> + <p> + “I am at-t-tending.” + </p> + <p> + “A note is merchandise,—an article of barter which rises and falls + in prices. That is a deduction from Jeremy Bentham’s theory about usury. + That writer has proved that the prejudice which condemned usurers to + reprobation was mere folly.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” ejaculated the goodman. + </p> + <p> + “Allowing that money, according to Bentham, is an article of merchandise, + and that whatever represents money is equally merchandise,” resumed the + president; “allowing also that it is notorious that the commercial note, + bearing this or that signature, is liable to the fluctuation of all + commercial values, rises or falls in the market, is dear at one moment, + and is worth nothing at another, the courts decide—ah! how stupid I + am, I beg your pardon—I am inclined to think you could buy up your + brother’s debts for twenty-five per cent.” + </p> + <p> + “D-d-did you c-c-call him Je-Je-Jeremy B-Ben?” + </p> + <p> + “Bentham, an Englishman.’ + </p> + <p> + “That’s a Jeremy who might save us a lot of lamentations in business,” + said the notary, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Those Englishmen s-sometimes t-t-talk sense,” said Grandet. “So, + ac-c-cording to Ben-Bentham, if my b-b-brother’s n-notes are worth + n-n-nothing; if Je-Je—I’m c-c-correct, am I not? That seems + c-c-clear to my m-m-mind—the c-c-creditors would be—No, would + not be; I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me explain it all,” said the president. “Legally, if you acquire a + title to all the debts of the Maison Grandet, your brother or his heirs + will owe nothing to any one. Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “Very g-good,” repeated Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “In equity, if your brother’s notes are negotiated—negotiated, do + you clearly understand the term?—negotiated in the market at a + reduction of so much per cent in value, and if one of your friends + happening to be present should buy them in, the creditors having sold them + of their own free-will without constraint, the estate of the late Grandet + is honorably released.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s t-true; b-b-business is b-business,” said the cooper. “B-b-but, + st-still, you know, it is d-d-difficult. I h-have n-no m-m-money and n-no + t-t-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you need not undertake it. I am quite ready to go to Paris (you + may pay my expenses, they will only be a trifle). I will see the creditors + and talk with them and get an extension of time, and everything can be + arranged if you will add something to the assets so as to buy up all title + to the debts.” + </p> + <p> + “We-we’ll see about th-that. I c-c-can’t and I w-w-won’t bind myself + without—He who c-c-can’t, can’t; don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very true.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m all p-p-put ab-b-bout by what you’ve t-t-told me. This is the f-first + t-t-time in my life I have b-been obliged to th-th-think—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are not a lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m only a p-p-poor wine-g-grower, and know n-nothing about wh-what you + have just t-told me; I m-m-must th-think about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the president, preparing to resume his argument. + </p> + <p> + “Nephew!” said the notary, interrupting him in a warning tone. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what, uncle?” answered the president. + </p> + <p> + “Let Monsieur Grandet explain his own intentions. The matter in question + is of the first importance. Our good friend ought to define his meaning + clearly, and—” + </p> + <p> + A loud knock, which announced the arrival of the des Grassins family, + succeeded by their entrance and salutations, hindered Cruchot from + concluding his sentence. The notary was glad of the interruption, for + Grandet was beginning to look suspiciously at him, and the wen gave signs + of a brewing storm. In the first place, the notary did not think it + becoming in a president of the Civil courts to go to Paris and manipulate + creditors and lend himself to an underhand job which clashed with the laws + of strict integrity; moreover, never having known old Grandet to express + the slightest desire to pay anything, no matter what, he instinctively + feared to see his nephew taking part in the affair. He therefore profited + by the entrance of the des Grassins to take the nephew by the arm and lead + him into the embrasure of the window,— + </p> + <p> + “You have said enough, nephew; you’ve shown enough devotion. Your desire + to win the girl blinds you. The devil! you mustn’t go at it tooth and + nail. Let me sail the ship now; you can haul on the braces. Do you think + it right to compromise your dignity as a magistrate in such a—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, for he heard Monsieur des Grassins saying to the old cooper as + they shook hands,— + </p> + <p> + “Grandet, we have heard of the frightful misfortunes which have just + befallen your family,—the failure of the house of Guillaume Grandet + and the death of your brother. We have come to express our grief at these + sad events.” + </p> + <p> + “There is but one sad event,” said the notary, interrupting the banker,—“the + death of Monsieur Grandet, junior; and he would never have killed himself + had he thought in time of applying to his brother for help. Our old + friend, who is honorable to his finger-nails, intends to liquidate the + debts of the Maison Grandet of Paris. To save him the worry of legal + proceedings, my nephew, the president, has just offered to go to Paris and + negotiate with the creditors for a satisfactory settlement.” + </p> + <p> + These words, corroborated by Grandet’s attitude as he stood silently + nursing his chin, astonished the three des Grassins, who had been + leisurely discussing the old man’s avarice as they came along, very nearly + accusing him of fratricide. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I was sure of it,” cried the banker, looking at his wife. “What did I + tell you just now, Madame des Grassins? Grandet is honorable to the + backbone, and would never allow his name to remain under the slightest + cloud! Money without honor is a disease. There is honor in the provinces! + Right, very right, Grandet. I’m an old soldier, and I can’t disguise my + thoughts; I speak roughly. Thunder! it is sublime!” + </p> + <p> + “Th-then s-s-sublime th-things c-c-cost d-dear,” answered the goodman, as + the banker warmly wrung his hand. + </p> + <p> + “But this, my dear Grandet,—if the president will excuse me,—is + a purely commercial matter, and needs a consummate business man. Your + agent must be some one fully acquainted with the markets,—with + disbursements, rebates, interest calculations, and so forth. I am going to + Paris on business of my own, and I can take charge of—” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll see about t-t-trying to m-m-manage it b-b-between us, under the + p-p-peculiar c-c-circumstances, b-b-but without b-b-binding m-m-myself to + anything th-that I c-c-could not do,” said Grandet, stuttering; “because, + you see, monsieur le president naturally expects me to pay the expenses of + his journey.” + </p> + <p> + The goodman did not stammer over the last words. + </p> + <p> + “Eh!” cried Madame des Grassins, “why it is a pleasure to go to Paris. I + would willingly pay to go myself.” + </p> + <p> + She made a sign to her husband, as if to encourage him in cutting the + enemy out of the commission, <i>coute que coute</i>; then she glanced + ironically at the two Cruchots, who looked chap-fallen. Grandet seized the + banker by a button and drew him into a corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + “I have a great deal more confidence in you than in the president,” he + said; “besides, I’ve other fish to fry,” he added, wriggling his wen. “I + want to buy a few thousand francs in the Funds while they are at eighty. + They fall, I’m told, at the end of each month. You know all about these + things, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! then, am I to invest enough to give you a few thousand francs a + year?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not much to begin with. Hush! I don’t want any one to know I am + going to play that game. You can make the investment by the end of the + month. Say nothing to the Cruchots; that’ll annoy them. If you are really + going to Paris, we will see if there is anything to be done for my poor + nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s all settled. I’ll start to-morrow by the mail-post,” said des + Grassins aloud, “and I will come and take your last directions at—what + hour will suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “Five o’clock, just before dinner,” said Grandet, rubbing his hands. + </p> + <p> + The two parties stayed on for a short time. Des Grassins said, after a + pause, striking Grandet on the shoulder,— + </p> + <p> + “It is a good thing to have a relation like him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; without making a show,” said Grandet, “I am a g-good relation. + I loved my brother, and I will prove it, unless it c-c-costs—” + </p> + <p> + “We must leave you, Grandet,” said the banker, interrupting him + fortunately before he got to the end of his sentence. “If I hurry my + departure, I must attend to some matters at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, very good! I myself—in c-consequence of what I t-told + you—I must retire to my own room and ‘d-d-deliberate,’ as President + Cruchot says.” + </p> + <p> + “Plague take him! I am no longer Monsieur de Bonfons,” thought the + magistrate ruefully, his face assuming the expression of a judge bored by + an argument. + </p> + <p> + The heads of the two factions walked off together. Neither gave any + further thought to the treachery Grandet had been guilty of in the morning + against the whole wine-growing community; each tried to fathom what the + other was thinking about the real intentions of the wily old man in this + new affair, but in vain. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go with us to Madame Dorsonval’s?” said des Grassins to the + notary. + </p> + <p> + “We will go there later,” answered the president. “I have promised to say + good-evening to Mademoiselle de Gribeaucourt, and we will go there first, + if my uncle is willing.” + </p> + <p> + “Farewell for the present!” said Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + When the Cruchots were a few steps off, Adolphe remarked to his father,— + </p> + <p> + “Are not they fuming, hein?” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, my son!” said his mother; “they might hear you. + Besides, what you say is not in good taste,—law-school language.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, uncle,” cried the president when he saw the des Grassins + disappearing, “I began by being de Bonfons, and I have ended as nothing + but Cruchot.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw that that annoyed you; but the wind has set fair for the des + Grassins. What a fool you are, with all your cleverness! Let them sail off + on Grandet’s ‘We’ll see about it,’ and keep yourself quiet, young man. + Eugenie will none the less be your wife.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments the news of Grandet’s magnanimous resolve was + disseminated in three houses at the same moment, and the whole town began + to talk of his fraternal devotion. Every one forgave Grandet for the sale + made in defiance of the good faith pledged to the community; they admired + his sense of honor, and began to laud a generosity of which they had never + thought him capable. It is part of the French nature to grow enthusiastic, + or angry, or fervent about some meteor of the moment. Can it be that + collective beings, nationalities, peoples, are devoid of memory? + </p> + <p> + When Pere Grandet had shut the door he called Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let the dog loose, and don’t go to bed; we have work to do + together. At eleven o’clock Cornoiller will be at the door with the + chariot from Froidfond. Listen for him and prevent his knocking; tell him + to come in softly. Police regulations don’t allow nocturnal racket. + Besides, the whole neighborhood need not know that I am starting on a + journey.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Grandet returned to his private room, where Nanon heard him + moving about, rummaging, and walking to and fro, though with much + precaution, for he evidently did not wish to wake his wife and daughter, + and above all not to rouse the attention of his nephew, whom he had begun + to anathematize when he saw a thread of light under his door. About the + middle of the night Eugenie, intent on her cousin, fancied she heard a cry + like that of a dying person. It must be Charles, she thought; he was so + pale, so full of despair when she had seen him last,—could he have + killed himself? She wrapped herself quickly in a loose garment,—a + sort of pelisse with a hood,—and was about to leave the room when a + bright light coming through the chinks of her door made her think of fire. + But she recovered herself as she heard Nanon’s heavy steps and gruff voice + mingling with the snorting of several horses. + </p> + <p> + “Can my father be carrying off my cousin?” she said to herself, opening + her door with great precaution lest it should creak, and yet enough to let + her see into the corridor. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly her eye encountered that of her father; and his glance, vague and + unnoticing as it was, terrified her. The goodman and Nanon were yoked + together by a stout stick, each end of which rested on their shoulders; a + stout rope was passed over it, on which was slung a small barrel or keg + like those Pere Grandet still made in his bakehouse as an amusement for + his leisure hours. + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin, how heavy it is!” said the voice of Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “What a pity that it is only copper sous!” answered Grandet. “Take care + you don’t knock over the candlestick.” + </p> + <p> + The scene was lighted by a single candle placed between two rails of the + staircase. + </p> + <p> + “Cornoiller,” said Grandet to his keeper <i>in partibus</i>, “have you + brought your pistols?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur. Mercy! what’s there to fear for your copper sous?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! nothing,” said Pere Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, we shall go fast,” added the man; “your farmers have picked out + their best horses.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. You did not tell them where I was going?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know where.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. Is the carriage strong?” + </p> + <p> + “Strong? hear to that, now! Why, it can carry three thousand weight. How + much does that old keg weigh?” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” exclaimed Nanon. “I ought to know! There’s pretty nigh + eighteen hundred—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you hold your tongue, Nanon! You are to tell my wife I have gone + into the country. I shall be back to dinner. Drive fast, Cornoiller; I + must get to Angers before nine o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage drove off. Nanon bolted the great door, let loose the dog, + and went off to bed with a bruised shoulder, no one in the neighborhood + suspecting either the departure of Grandet or the object of his journey. + The precautions of the old miser and his reticence were never relaxed. No + one had ever seen a penny in that house, filled as it was with gold. + Hearing in the morning, through the gossip of the port, that exchange on + gold had doubled in price in consequence of certain military preparations + undertaken at Nantes, and that speculators had arrived at Angers to buy + coin, the old wine-grower, by the simple process of borrowing horses from + his farmers, seized the chance of selling his gold and of bringing back in + the form of treasury notes the sum he intended to put into the Funds, + having swelled it considerably by the exchange. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII + </h2> + <p> + “My father has gone,” thought Eugenie, who heard all that took place from + the head of the stairs. Silence was restored in the house, and the distant + rumbling of the carriage, ceasing by degrees, no longer echoed through the + sleeping town. At this moment Eugenie heard in her heart, before the sound + caught her ears, a cry which pierced the partitions and came from her + cousin’s chamber. A line of light, thin as the blade of a sabre, shone + through a chink in the door and fell horizontally on the balusters of the + rotten staircase. + </p> + <p> + “He suffers!” she said, springing up the stairs. A second moan brought her + to the landing near his room. The door was ajar, she pushed it open. + Charles was sleeping; his head hung over the side of the old armchair, and + his hand, from which the pen had fallen, nearly touched the floor. The + oppressed breathing caused by the strained posture suddenly frightened + Eugenie, who entered the room hastily. + </p> + <p> + “He must be very tired,” she said to herself, glancing at a dozen letters + lying sealed upon the table. She read their addresses: “To Messrs. Farry, + Breilmann, & Co., carriage-makers”; “To Monsieur Buisson, tailor,” + etc. + </p> + <p> + “He has been settling all his affairs, so as to leave France at once,” she + thought. Her eyes fell upon two open letters. The words, “My dear + Annette,” at the head of one of them, blinded her for a moment. Her heart + beat fast, her feet were nailed to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “His dear Annette! He loves! he is loved! No hope! What does he say to + her?” + </p> + <p> + These thoughts rushed through her head and heart. She saw the words + everywhere, even on the bricks of the floor, in letters of fire. + </p> + <p> + “Resign him already? No, no! I will not read the letter. I ought to go + away—What if I do read it?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Charles, then she gently took his head and placed it against + the back of the chair; he let her do so, like a child which, though + asleep, knows its mother’s touch and receives, without awaking, her kisses + and watchful care. Like a mother Eugenie raised the drooping hand, and + like a mother she gently kissed the chestnut hair—“Dear Annette!” a + demon shrieked the words in her ear. + </p> + <p> + “I am doing wrong; but I must read it, that letter,” she said. She turned + away her head, for her noble sense of honor reproached her. For the first + time in her life good and evil struggled together in her heart. Up to that + moment she had never had to blush for any action. Passion and curiosity + triumphed. As she read each sentence her heart swelled more and more, and + the keen glow which filled her being as she did so, only made the joys of + first love still more precious. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Annette,—Nothing could ever have separated us but the + great misfortune which has now overwhelmed me, and which no human + foresight could have prevented. My father has killed himself; his + fortune and mine are irretrievably lost. I am orphaned at an age + when, through the nature of my education, I am still a child; and + yet I must lift myself as a man out of the abyss into which I am + plunged. I have just spent half the night in facing my position. + If I wish to leave France an honest man,—and there is no doubt of + that,—I have not a hundred francs of my own with which to try my + fate in the Indies or in America. Yes, my poor Anna, I must seek + my fortune in those deadly climates. Under those skies, they tell + me, I am sure to make it. As for remaining in Paris, I cannot do + so. Neither my nature nor my face are made to bear the affronts, + the neglect, the disdain shown to a ruined man, the son of a + bankrupt! Good God! think of owing two millions! I should be + killed in a duel the first week; therefore I shall not return + there. Your love—the most tender and devoted love which ever + ennobled the heart of man—cannot draw me back. Alas! my beloved, + I have no money with which to go to you, to give and receive a + last kiss from which I might derive some strength for my forlorn + enterprise. +</pre> + <p> + “Poor Charles! I did well to read the letter. I have gold; I will give it + to him,” thought Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + She wiped her eyes, and went on reading. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I have never thought of the miseries of poverty. If I have the + hundred louis required for the mere costs of the journey, I have + not a sou for an outfit. But no, I have not the hundred louis, not + even one louis. I don’t know that anything will be left after I + have paid my debts in Paris. If I have nothing, I shall go quietly + to Nantes and ship as a common sailor; and I will begin in the new + world like other men who have started young without a sou and + brought back the wealth of the Indies. During this long day I have + faced my future coolly. It seems more horrible for me than for + another, because I have been so petted by a mother who adored me, + so indulged by the kindest of fathers, so blessed by meeting, on + my entrance into life, with the love of an Anna! The flowers of + life are all I have ever known. Such happiness could not last. + Nevertheless, my dear Annette, I feel more courage than a careless + young man is supposed to feel,—above all a young man used to the + caressing ways of the dearest woman in all Paris, cradled in + family joys, on whom all things smiled in his home, whose wishes + were a law to his father—oh, my father! Annette, he is dead! + + Well, I have thought over my position, and yours as well. I have + grown old in twenty-four hours. Dear Anna, if in order to keep me + with you in Paris you were to sacrifice your luxury, your dress, + your opera-box, we should even then not have enough for the + expenses of my extravagant ways of living. Besides, I would never + accept such sacrifices. No, we must part now and forever— +</pre> + <p> + “He gives her up! Blessed Virgin! What happiness!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie quivered with joy. Charles made a movement, and a chill of terror + ran through her. Fortunately, he did not wake, and she resumed her + reading. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + When shall I return? I do not know. The climate of the West Indies + ages a European, so they say; especially a European who works + hard. Let us think what may happen ten years hence. In ten years + your daughter will be eighteen; she will be your companion, your + spy. To you society will be cruel, and your daughter perhaps more + cruel still. We have seen cases of the harsh social judgment and + ingratitude of daughters; let us take warning by them. Keep in the + depths of your soul, as I shall in mine, the memory of four years + of happiness, and be faithful, if you can, to the memory of your + poor friend. I cannot exact such faithfulness, because, do you + see, dear Annette, I must conform to the exigencies of my new + life; I must take a commonplace view of them and do the best I + can. Therefore I must think of marriage, which becomes one of the + necessities of my future existence; and I will admit to you that I + have found, here in Saumur, in my uncle’s house, a cousin whose + face, manners, mind, and heart would please you, and who, besides, + seems to me— +</pre> + <p> + “He must have been very weary to have ceased writing to her,” thought + Eugenie, as she gazed at the letter which stopped abruptly in the middle + of the last sentence. + </p> + <p> + Already she defended him. How was it possible that an innocent girl should + perceive the cold-heartedness evinced by this letter? To young girls + religiously brought up, whose minds are ignorant and pure, all is love + from the moment they set their feet within the enchanted regions of that + passion. They walk there bathed in a celestial light shed from their own + souls, which reflects its rays upon their lover; they color all with the + flame of their own emotion and attribute to him their highest thoughts. A + woman’s errors come almost always from her belief in good or her + confidence in truth. In Eugenie’s simple heart the words, “My dear + Annette, my loved one,” echoed like the sweetest language of love; they + caressed her soul as, in childhood, the divine notes of the <i>Venite + adoremus</i>, repeated by the organ, caressed her ear. Moreover, the tears + which still lingered on the young man’s lashes gave signs of that nobility + of heart by which young girls are rightly won. How could she know that + Charles, though he loved his father and mourned him truly, was moved far + more by paternal goodness than by the goodness of his own heart? Monsieur + and Madame Guillaume Grandet, by gratifying every fancy of their son, and + lavishing upon him the pleasures of a large fortune, had kept him from + making the horrible calculations of which so many sons in Paris become + more or less guilty when, face to face with the enjoyments of the world, + they form desires and conceive schemes which they see with bitterness must + be put off or laid aside during the lifetime of their parents. The + liberality of the father in this instance had shed into the heart of the + son a real love, in which there was no afterthought of self-interest. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Charles was a true child of Paris, taught by the customs of + society and by Annette herself to calculate everything; already an old man + under the mask of youth. He had gone through the frightful education of + social life, of that world where in one evening more crimes are committed + in thought and speech than justice ever punishes at the assizes; where + jests and clever sayings assassinate the noblest ideas; where no one is + counted strong unless his mind sees clear: and to see clear in that world + is to believe in nothing, neither in feelings, nor in men, nor even in + events,—for events are falsified. There, to “see clear” we must + weigh a friend’s purse daily, learn how to keep ourselves adroitly on the + top of the wave, cautiously admire nothing, neither works of art nor + glorious actions, and remember that self-interest is the mainspring of all + things here below. After committing many follies, the great lady—the + beautiful Annette—compelled Charles to think seriously; with her + perfumed hand among his curls, she talked to him of his future position; + as she rearranged his locks, she taught him lessons of worldly prudence; + she made him effeminate and materialized him,—a double corruption, + but a delicate and elegant corruption, in the best taste. + </p> + <p> + “You are very foolish, Charles,” she would say to him. “I shall have a + great deal of trouble in teaching you to understand the world. You behaved + extremely ill to Monsieur des Lupeaulx. I know very well he is not an + honorable man; but wait till he is no longer in power, then you may + despise him as much as you like. Do you know what Madame Campan used to + tell us?—‘My dears, as long as a man is a minister, adore him; when + he falls, help to drag him in the gutter. Powerful, he is a sort of god; + fallen, he is lower than Marat in the sewer, because he is living, and + Marat is dead. Life is a series of combinations, and you must study them + and understand them if you want to keep yourselves always in good + position.’” + </p> + <p> + Charles was too much a man of the world, his parents had made him too + happy, he had received too much adulation in society, to be possessed of + noble sentiments. The grain of gold dropped by his mother into his heart + was beaten thin in the smithy of Parisian society; he had spread it + superficially, and it was worn away by the friction of life. Charles was + only twenty-one years old. At that age the freshness of youth seems + inseparable from candor and sincerity of soul. The voice, the glance, the + face itself, seem in harmony with the feelings; and thus it happens that + the sternest judge, the most sceptical lawyer, the least complying of + usurers, always hesitate to admit decrepitude of heart or the corruption + of worldly calculation while the eyes are still bathed in purity and no + wrinkles seam the brow. Charles, so far, had had no occasion to apply the + maxims of Parisian morality; up to this time he was still endowed with the + beauty of inexperience. And yet, unknown to himself, he had been + inoculated with selfishness. The germs of Parisian political economy, + latent in his heart, would assuredly burst forth, sooner or later, + whenever the careless spectator became an actor in the drama of real life. + </p> + <p> + Nearly all young girls succumb to the tender promises such an outward + appearance seems to offer: even if Eugenie had been as prudent and + observing as provincial girls are often found to be, she was not likely to + distrust her cousin when his manners, words, and actions were still in + unison with the aspirations of a youthful heart. A mere chance—a + fatal chance—threw in her way the last effusions of real feeling + which stirred the young man’s soul; she heard as it were the last + breathings of his conscience. She laid down the letter—to her so + full of love—and began smilingly to watch her sleeping cousin; the + fresh illusions of life were still, for her at least, upon his face; she + vowed to herself to love him always. Then she cast her eyes on the other + letter, without attaching much importance to this second indiscretion; and + though she read it, it was only to obtain new proofs of the noble + qualities which, like all women, she attributed to the man her heart had + chosen. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Alphonse,—When you receive this letter I shall be without + friends; but let me assure you that while I doubt the friendship + of the world, I have never doubted yours. I beg you therefore to + settle all my affairs, and I trust to you to get as much as you + can out of my possessions. By this time you know my situation. I + have nothing left, and I intend to go at once to the Indies. I + have just written to all the people to whom I think I owe money, + and you will find enclosed a list of their names, as correct as I + can make it from memory. My books, my furniture, my pictures, my + horses, etc., ought, I think, to pay my debts. I do not wish to + keep anything, except, perhaps, a few baubles which might serve as + the beginning of an outfit for my enterprise. My dear Alphonse, I + will send you a proper power of attorney under which you can make + these sales. Send me all my weapons. Keep Briton for yourself; + nobody would pay the value of that noble beast, and I would rather + give him to you—like a mourning-ring bequeathed by a dying man to + his executor. Farry, Breilmann, & Co. built me a very comfortable + travelling-carriage, which they have not yet delivered; persuade + them to keep it and not ask for any payment on it. If they refuse, + do what you can in the matter, and avoid everything that might + seem dishonorable in me under my present circumstances. I owe the + British Islander six louis, which I lost at cards; don’t fail to + pay him— +</pre> + <p> + “Dear cousin!” whispered Eugenie, throwing down the letter and running + softly back to her room, carrying one of the lighted candles. A thrill of + pleasure passed over her as she opened the drawer of an old oak cabinet, a + fine specimen of the period called the Renaissance, on which could still + be seen, partly effaced, the famous royal salamander. She took from the + drawer a large purse of red velvet with gold tassels, edged with a + tarnished fringe of gold wire,—a relic inherited from her + grandmother. She weighed it proudly in her hand, and began with delight to + count over the forgotten items of her little hoard. First she took out + twenty <i>portugaises</i>, still new, struck in the reign of John V., + 1725, worth by exchange, as her father told her, five <i>lisbonnines</i>, + or a hundred and sixty-eight francs, sixty-four centimes each; their + conventional value, however, was a hundred and eighty francs apiece, on + account of the rarity and beauty of the coins, which shone like little + suns. Item, five <i>genovines</i>, or five hundred-franc pieces of Genoa; + another very rare coin worth eighty-seven francs on exchange, but a + hundred francs to collectors. These had formerly belonged to old Monsieur + de la Bertelliere. Item, three gold <i>quadruples</i>, Spanish, of Philip + V., struck in 1729, given to her one by one by Madame Gentillet, who never + failed to say, using the same words, when she made the gift, “This dear + little canary, this little yellow-boy, is worth ninety-eight francs! Keep + it, my pretty one, it will be the flower of your treasure.” Item (that + which her father valued most of all, the gold of these coins being + twenty-three carats and a fraction), a hundred Dutch ducats, made in the + year 1756, and worth thirteen francs apiece. Item, a great curiosity, a + species of medal precious to the soul of misers,—three rupees with + the sign of the Scales, and five rupees with the sign of the Virgin, all + in pure gold of twenty-four carats; the magnificent money of the Great + Mogul, each of which was worth by mere weight thirty-seven francs, forty + centimes, but at least fifty francs to those connoisseurs who love to + handle gold. Item, the napoleon of forty francs received the day before, + which she had forgotten to put away in the velvet purse. This treasure was + all in virgin coins, true works of art, which Grandet from time to time + inquired after and asked to see, pointing out to his daughter their + intrinsic merits,—such as the beauty of the milled edge, the + clearness of the flat surface, the richness of the lettering, whose angles + were not yet rubbed off. + </p> + <p> + Eugenie gave no thought to these rarities, nor to her father’s mania for + them, nor to the danger she incurred in depriving herself of a treasure so + dear to him; no, she thought only of her cousin, and soon made out, after + a few mistakes of calculation, that she possessed about five thousand + eight hundred francs in actual value, which might be sold for their + additional value to collectors for nearly six thousand. She looked at her + wealth and clapped her hands like a happy child forced to spend its + overflowing joy in artless movements of the body. Father and daughter had + each counted up their fortune this night,—he, to sell his gold; + Eugenie to fling hers into the ocean of affection. She put the pieces back + into the old purse, took it in her hand, and ran upstairs without + hesitation. The secret misery of her cousin made her forget the hour and + conventional propriety; she was strong in her conscience, in her devotion, + in her happiness. + </p> + <p> + As she stood upon the threshold of the door, holding the candle in one + hand and the purse in the other, Charles woke, caught sight of her, and + remained speechless with surprise. Eugenie came forward, put the candle on + the table, and said in a quivering voice: + </p> + <p> + “My cousin, I must beg pardon for a wrong I have done you; but God will + pardon me—if you—will help me to wipe it out.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Charles, rubbing his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I have read those letters.” + </p> + <p> + Charles colored. + </p> + <p> + “How did it happen?” she continued; “how came I here? Truly, I do not + know. I am tempted not to regret too much that I have read them; they have + made me know your heart, your soul, and—” + </p> + <p> + “And what?” asked Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Your plans, your need of a sum—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear cousin—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush! my cousin, not so loud; we must not wake others. See,” she + said, opening her purse, “here are the savings of a poor girl who wants + nothing. Charles, accept them! This morning I was ignorant of the value of + money; you have taught it to me. It is but a means, after all. A cousin is + almost a brother; you can surely borrow the purse of your sister.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie, as much a woman as a young girl, never dreamed of refusal; but + her cousin remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you will not refuse?” cried Eugenie, the beatings of whose heart + could be heard in the deep silence. + </p> + <p> + Her cousin’s hesitation mortified her; but the sore need of his position + came clearer still to her mind, and she knelt down. + </p> + <p> + “I will never rise till you have taken that gold!” she said. “My cousin, I + implore you, answer me! let me know if you respect me, if you are + generous, if—” + </p> + <p> + As he heard this cry of noble distress the young man’s tears fell upon his + cousin’s hands, which he had caught in his own to keep her from kneeling. + As the warm tears touched her, Eugenie sprang to the purse and poured its + contents upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes, yes, you consent?” she said, weeping with joy. “Fear nothing, my + cousin, you will be rich. This gold will bring you happiness; some day you + shall bring it back to me,—are we not partners? I will obey all + conditions. But you should not attach such value to the gift.” + </p> + <p> + Charles was at last able to express his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Eugenie; my soul would be small indeed if I did not accept. And yet,—gift + for gift, confidence for confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” she said, frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, dear cousin; I have here—” He interrupted himself to point + out a square box covered with an outer case of leather which was on the + drawers. “There,” he continued, “is something as precious to me as life + itself. This box was a present from my mother. All day I have been + thinking that if she could rise from her grave, she would herself sell the + gold which her love for me lavished on this dressing-case; but were I to + do so, the act would seem to me a sacrilege.” Eugenie pressed his hand as + she heard these last words. “No,” he added, after a slight pause, during + which a liquid glance of tenderness passed between them, “no, I will + neither sell it nor risk its safety on my journey. Dear Eugenie, you shall + be its guardian. Never did friend commit anything more sacred to another. + Let me show it to you.” + </p> + <p> + He went to the box, took it from its outer coverings, opened it, and + showed his delighted cousin a dressing-case where the rich workmanship + gave to the gold ornaments a value far above their weight. + </p> + <p> + “What you admire there is nothing,” he said, pushing a secret spring which + opened a hidden drawer. “Here is something which to me is worth the whole + world.” He drew out two portraits, masterpieces of Madame Mirbel, richly + set with pearls. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how beautiful! Is it the lady to whom you wrote that—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, smiling; “this is my mother, and here is my father, your + aunt and uncle. Eugenie, I beg you on my knees, keep my treasure safely. + If I die and your little fortune is lost, this gold and these pearls will + repay you. To you alone could I leave these portraits; you are worthy to + keep them. But destroy them at last, so that they may pass into no other + hands.” Eugenie was silent. “Ah, yes, say yes! You consent?” he added with + winning grace. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the very words she had just used to her cousin now addressed to + herself, she turned upon him a look of love, her first look of loving + womanhood,—a glance in which there is nearly as much of coquetry as + of inmost depth. He took her hand and kissed it. + </p> + <p> + “Angel of purity! between us two money is nothing, never can be anything. + Feeling, sentiment, must be all henceforth.” + </p> + <p> + “You are like your mother,—was her voice as soft as yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! much softer—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for you,” she said, dropping her eyelids. “Come, Charles, go to bed; + I wish it; you must be tired. Good-night.” She gently disengaged her hand + from those of her cousin, who followed her to her room, lighting the way. + When they were both upon the threshold,— + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he said, “why am I ruined?” + </p> + <p> + “What matter?—my father is rich; I think so,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child!” said Charles, making a step into her room and leaning his + back against the wall, “if that were so, he would never have let my father + die; he would not let you live in this poor way; he would live otherwise + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “But he owns Froidfond.” + </p> + <p> + “What is Froidfond worth?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know; but he has Noyers.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but a poor farm!” + </p> + <p> + “He has vineyards and fields.” + </p> + <p> + “Mere nothing,” said Charles disdainfully. “If your father had only + twenty-four thousand francs a year do you suppose you would live in this + cold, barren room?” he added, making a step in advance. “Ah! there you + will keep my treasures,” he said, glancing at the old cabinet, as if to + hide his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Go and sleep,” she said, hindering his entrance into the disordered room. + </p> + <p> + Charles stepped back, and they bid each other good-night with a mutual + smile. + </p> + <p> + Both fell asleep in the same dream; and from that moment the youth began + to wear roses with his mourning. The next day, before breakfast, Madame + Grandet found her daughter in the garden in company with Charles. The + young man was still sad, as became a poor fellow who, plunged in + misfortune, measures the depths of the abyss into which he has fallen, and + sees the terrible burden of his whole future life. + </p> + <p> + “My father will not be home till dinner-time,” said Eugenie, perceiving + the anxious look on her mother’s face. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to trace in the face and manners of the young girl and in the + singular sweetness of her voice a unison of thought between her and her + cousin. Their souls had espoused each other, perhaps before they even felt + the force of the feelings which bound them together. Charles spent the + morning in the hall, and his sadness was respected. Each of the three + women had occupations of her own. Grandet had left all his affairs + unattended to, and a number of persons came on business,—the + plumber, the mason, the slater, the carpenter, the diggers, the dressers, + the farmers; some to drive a bargain about repairs, others to pay their + rent or to be paid themselves for services. Madame Grandet and Eugenie + were obliged to go and come and listen to the interminable talk of all + these workmen and country folk. Nanon put away in her kitchen the produce + which they brought as tribute. She always waited for her master’s orders + before she knew what portion was to be used in the house and what was to + be sold in the market. It was the goodman’s custom, like that of a great + many country gentlemen, to drink his bad wine and eat his spoiled fruit. + </p> + <p> + Towards five in the afternoon Grandet returned from Angers, having made + fourteen thousand francs by the exchange on his gold, bringing home in his + wallet good treasury-notes which bore interest until the day he should + invest them in the Funds. He had left Cornoiller at Angers to look after + the horses, which were well-nigh foundered, with orders to bring them home + slowly after they were rested. + </p> + <p> + “I have got back from Angers, wife,” he said; “I am hungry.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon called out to him from the kitchen: “Haven’t you eaten anything + since yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” answered the old man. + </p> + <p> + Nanon brought in the soup. Des Grassins came to take his client’s orders + just as the family sat down to dinner. Grandet had not even observed his + nephew. + </p> + <p> + “Go on eating, Grandet,” said the banker; “we can talk. Do you know what + gold is worth in Angers? They have come from Nantes after it? I shall send + some of ours.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t send any,” said Grandet; “they have got enough. We are such old + friends, I ought to save you from such a loss of time.” + </p> + <p> + “But gold is worth thirteen francs fifty centimes.” + </p> + <p> + “Say <i>was</i> worth—” + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil have they got any?” + </p> + <p> + “I went to Angers last night,” answered Grandet in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + The banker shook with surprise. Then a whispered conversation began + between the two, during which Grandet and des Grassins frequently looked + at Charles. Presently des Grassins gave a start of astonishment; probably + Grandet was then instructing him to invest the sum which was to give him a + hundred thousand francs a year in the Funds. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Grandet,” said the banker to Charles, “I am starting for Paris; + if you have any commissions—” + </p> + <p> + “None, monsieur, I thank you,” answered Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Thank him better than that, nephew. Monsieur is going to settle the + affairs of the house of Guillaume Grandet.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any hope?” said Charles eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed his uncle, with well-acted pride, “are you not my + nephew? Your honor is ours. Is not your name Grandet?” + </p> + <p> + Charles rose, seized Pere Grandet, kissed him, turned pale, and left the + room. Eugenie looked at her father with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-by, des Grassins; it is all in your hands. Decoy those people + as best you can; lead ‘em by the nose.” + </p> + <p> + The two diplomatists shook hands. The old cooper accompanied the banker to + the front door. Then, after closing it, he came back and plunged into his + armchair, saying to Nanon,— + </p> + <p> + “Get me some black-currant ratafia.” + </p> + <p> + Too excited, however, to remain long in one place, he got up, looked at + the portrait of Monsieur de la Bertelliere, and began to sing, doing what + Nanon called his dancing steps,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dans les gardes francaises + J’avais un bon papa.” + </pre> + <p> + Nanon, Madame Grandet, and Eugenie looked at each other in silence. The + hilarity of the master always frightened them when it reached its climax. + The evening was soon over. Pere Grandet chose to go to bed early, and when + he went to bed, everybody else was expected to go too; like as when + Augustus drank, Poland was drunk. On this occasion Nanon, Charles, and + Eugenie were not less tired than the master. As for Madame Grandet, she + slept, ate, drank, and walked according to the will of her husband. + However, during the two hours consecrated to digestion, the cooper, more + facetious than he had ever been in his life, uttered a number of his own + particular apothegms,—a single one of which will give the measure of + his mind. When he had drunk his ratafia, he looked at his glass and said,— + </p> + <p> + “You have no sooner put your lips to a glass than it is empty! Such is + life. You can’t have and hold. Gold won’t circulate and stay in your + purse. If it were not for that, life would be too fine.” + </p> + <p> + He was jovial and benevolent. When Nanon came with her spinning-wheel, + “You must be tired,” he said; “put away your hemp.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bah! then I shall get sleepy,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Nanon! Will you have some ratafia?” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t refuse a good offer; madame makes it a deal better than the + apothecaries. What they sell is all drugs.” + </p> + <p> + “They put too much sugar,” said the master; “you can’t taste anything + else.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX + </h2> + <p> + The following day the family, meeting at eight o’clock for the early + breakfast, made a picture of genuine domestic intimacy. Grief had drawn + Madame Grandet, Eugenie, and Charles <i>en rapport</i>; even Nanon + sympathized, without knowing why. The four now made one family. As to the + old man, his satisfied avarice and the certainty of soon getting rid of + the dandy without having to pay more than his journey to Nantes, made him + nearly indifferent to his presence in the house. He left the two children, + as he called Charles and Eugenie, free to conduct themselves as they + pleased, under the eye of Madame Grandet, in whom he had implicit + confidence as to all that concerned public and religious morality. He + busied himself in straightening the boundaries of his fields and ditches + along the high-road, in his poplar-plantations beside the Loire, in the + winter work of his vineyards, and at Froidfond. All these things occupied + his whole time. + </p> + <p> + For Eugenie the springtime of love had come. Since the scene at night when + she gave her little treasure to her cousin, her heart had followed the + treasure. Confederates in the same secret, they looked at each other with + a mutual intelligence which sank to the depth of their consciousness, + giving a closer communion, a more intimate relation to their feelings, and + putting them, so to speak, beyond the pale of ordinary life. Did not their + near relationship warrant the gentleness in their tones, the tenderness in + their glances? Eugenie took delight in lulling her cousin’s pain with the + pretty childish joys of a new-born love. Are there no sweet similitudes + between the birth of love and the birth of life? Do we not rock the babe + with gentle songs and softest glances? Do we not tell it marvellous tales + of the golden future? Hope herself, does she not spread her radiant wings + above its head? Does it not shed, with infant fickleness, its tears of + sorrow and its tears of joy? Does it not fret for trifles, cry for the + pretty pebbles with which to build its shifting palaces, for the flowers + forgotten as soon as plucked? Is it not eager to grasp the coming time, to + spring forward into life? Love is our second transformation. Childhood and + love were one and the same thing to Eugenie and to Charles; it was a first + passion, with all its child-like play,—the more caressing to their + hearts because they now were wrapped in sadness. Struggling at birth + against the gloom of mourning, their love was only the more in harmony + with the provincial plainness of that gray and ruined house. As they + exchanged a few words beside the well in the silent court, or lingered in + the garden for the sunset hour, sitting on a mossy seat saying to each + other the infinite nothings of love, or mused in the silent calm which + reigned between the house and the ramparts like that beneath the arches of + a church, Charles comprehended the sanctity of love; for his great lady, + his dear Annette, had taught him only its stormy troubles. At this moment + he left the worldly passion, coquettish, vain, and showy as it was, and + turned to the true, pure love. He loved even the house, whose customs no + longer seemed to him ridiculous. He got up early in the mornings that he + might talk with Eugenie for a moment before her father came to dole out + the provisions; when the steps of the old man sounded on the staircase he + escaped into the garden. The small criminality of this morning <i>tete-a-tete</i> + which Nanon pretended not to see, gave to their innocent love the lively + charm of a forbidden joy. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast, when Grandet had gone to his fields and his other + occupations, Charles remained with the mother and daughter, finding an + unknown pleasure in holding their skeins, in watching them at work, in + listening to their quiet prattle. The simplicity of this half-monastic + life, which revealed to him the beauty of these souls, unknown and + unknowing of the world, touched him keenly. He had believed such morals + impossible in France, and admitted their existence nowhere but in Germany; + even so, they seemed to him fabulous, only real in the novels of Auguste + Lafontaine. Soon Eugenie became to him the Margaret of Goethe—before + her fall. Day by day his words, his looks enraptured the poor girl, who + yielded herself up with delicious non-resistance to the current of love; + she caught her happiness as a swimmer seizes the overhanging branch of a + willow to draw himself from the river and lie at rest upon its shore. Did + no dread of a coming absence sadden the happy hours of those fleeting + days? Daily some little circumstance reminded them of the parting that was + at hand. + </p> + <p> + Three days after the departure of des Grassins, Grandet took his nephew to + the Civil courts, with the solemnity which country people attach to all + legal acts, that he might sign a deed surrendering his rights in his + father’s estate. Terrible renunciation! species of domestic apostasy! + Charles also went before Maitre Cruchot to make two powers of attorney,—one + for des Grassins, the other for the friend whom he had charged with the + sale of his belongings. After that he attended to all the formalities + necessary to obtain a passport for foreign countries; and finally, when he + received his simple mourning clothes from Paris, he sent for the tailor of + Saumur and sold to him his useless wardrobe. This last act pleased Grandet + exceedingly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! now you look like a man prepared to embark and make your fortune,” he + said, when Charles appeared in a surtout of plain black cloth. “Good! very + good!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will believe, monsieur,” answered his nephew, “that I shall + always try to conform to my situation.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” said his uncle, his eyes lighting up at a handful of gold + which Charles was carrying. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I have collected all my buttons and rings and other + superfluities which may have some value; but not knowing any one in + Saumur, I wanted to ask you to—” + </p> + <p> + “To buy them?” said Grandet, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “No, uncle; only to tell me of an honest man who—” + </p> + <p> + “Give me those things, I will go upstairs and estimate their value; I will + come back and tell you what it is to a fraction. Jeweller’s gold,” + examining a long chain, “eighteen or nineteen carats.” + </p> + <p> + The goodman held out his huge hand and received the mass of gold, which he + carried away. + </p> + <p> + “Cousin,” said Grandet, “may I offer you these two buttons? They can + fasten ribbons round your wrists; that sort of bracelet is much the + fashion just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept without hesitation,” she answered, giving him an understanding + look. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt, here is my mother’s thimble; I have always kept it carefully in my + dressing-case,” said Charles, presenting a pretty gold thimble to Madame + Grandet, who for many years had longed for one. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot thank you; no words are possible, my nephew,” said the poor + mother, whose eyes filled with tears. “Night and morning in my prayers I + shall add one for you, the most earnest of all—for those who travel. + If I die, Eugenie will keep this treasure for you.” + </p> + <p> + “They are worth nine hundred and eighty-nine francs, seventy-five + centimes,” said Grandet, opening the door. “To save you the pain of + selling them, I will advance the money—in <i>livres</i>.” + </p> + <p> + The word <i>livres</i> on the littoral of the Loire signifies that crown + prices of six <i>livres</i> are to be accepted as six francs without + deduction. + </p> + <p> + “I dared not propose it to you,” answered Charles; “but it was most + repugnant to me to sell my jewels to some second-hand dealer in your own + town. People should wash their dirty linen at home, as Napoleon said. I + thank you for your kindness.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet scratched his ear, and there was a moment’s silence. + </p> + <p> + “My dear uncle,” resumed Charles, looking at him with an uneasy air, as if + he feared to wound his feelings, “my aunt and cousin have been kind enough + to accept a trifling remembrance of me. Will you allow me to give you + these sleeve-buttons, which are useless to me now? They will remind you of + a poor fellow who, far away, will always think of those who are henceforth + all his family.” + </p> + <p> + “My lad, my lad, you mustn’t rob yourself this way! Let me see, wife, what + have you got?” he added, turning eagerly to her. “Ah! a gold thimble. And + you, little girl? What! diamond buttons? Yes, I’ll accept your present, + nephew,” he answered, shaking Charles by the hand. “But—you must let + me—pay—your—yes, your passage to the Indies. Yes, I wish + to pay your passage because—d’ye see, my boy?—in valuing your + jewels I estimated only the weight of the gold; very likely the + workmanship is worth something. So let us settle it that I am to give you + fifteen hundred francs—in <i>livres</i>; Cruchot will lend them to + me. I haven’t got a copper farthing here,—unless Perrotet, who is + behindhand with his rent, should pay up. By the bye, I’ll go and see him.” + </p> + <p> + He took his hat, put on his gloves, and went out. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are really going?” said Eugenie to her cousin, with a sad look, + mingled with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “I must,” he said, bowing his head. + </p> + <p> + For some days past, Charles’s whole bearing, manners, and speech had + become those of a man who, in spite of his profound affliction, feels the + weight of immense obligations and has the strength to gather courage from + misfortune. He no longer repined, he became a man. Eugenie never augured + better of her cousin’s character than when she saw him come down in the + plain black clothes which suited well with his pale face and sombre + countenance. On that day the two women put on their own mourning, and all + three assisted at a Requiem celebrated in the parish church for the soul + of the late Guillaume Grandet. + </p> + <p> + At the second breakfast Charles received letters from Paris and began to + read them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, cousin, are you satisfied with the management of your affairs?” + said Eugenie in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Never ask such questions, my daughter,” said Grandet. “What the devil! do + I tell you my affairs? Why do you poke your nose into your cousin’s? Let + the lad alone!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I haven’t any secrets,” said Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta, nephew; you’ll soon find out that you must hold your + tongue in business.” + </p> + <p> + When the two lovers were alone in the garden, Charles said to Eugenie, + drawing her down on the old bench beneath the walnut-tree,— + </p> + <p> + “I did right to trust Alphonse; he has done famously. He has managed my + affairs with prudence and good faith. I now owe nothing in Paris. All my + things have been sold; and he tells me that he has taken the advice of an + old sea-captain and spent three thousand francs on a commercial outfit of + European curiosities which will be sure to be in demand in the Indies. He + has sent my trunks to Nantes, where a ship is loading for San Domingo. In + five days, Eugenie, we must bid each other farewell—perhaps forever, + at least for years. My outfit and ten thousand francs, which two of my + friends send me, are a very small beginning. I cannot look to return for + many years. My dear cousin, do not weight your life in the scales with + mine; I may perish; some good marriage may be offered to you—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you love me?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! indeed, yes!” he answered, with a depth of tone that revealed an + equal depth of feeling. + </p> + <p> + “I shall wait, Charles—Good heavens! there is my father at his + window,” she said, repulsing her cousin, who leaned forward to kiss her. + </p> + <p> + She ran quickly under the archway. Charles followed her. When she saw him, + she retreated to the foot of the staircase and opened the swing-door; + then, scarcely knowing where she was going, Eugenie reached the corner + near Nanon’s den, in the darkest end of the passage. There Charles caught + her hand and drew her to his heart. Passing his arm about her waist, he + made her lean gently upon him. Eugenie no longer resisted; she received + and gave the purest, the sweetest, and yet, withal, the most unreserved of + kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Eugenie, a cousin is better than a brother, for he can marry you,” + said Charles. + </p> + <p> + “So be it!” cried Nanon, opening the door of her lair. + </p> + <p> + The two lovers, alarmed, fled into the hall, where Eugenie took up her + work and Charles began to read the litanies of the Virgin in Madame + Grandet’s prayer-book. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy!” cried Nanon, “now they’re saying their prayers.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Charles announced his immediate departure, Grandet bestirred + himself to testify much interest in his nephew. He became very liberal of + all that cost him nothing; took pains to find a packer; declared the man + asked too much for his cases; insisted on making them himself out of old + planks; got up early in the morning to fit and plane and nail together the + strips, out of which he made, to his own satisfaction, some strong cases, + in which he packed all Charles’s effects; he also took upon himself to + send them by boat down the Loire, to insure them, and get them to Nantes + in proper time. + </p> + <p> + After the kiss taken in the passage, the hours fled for Eugenie with + frightful rapidity. Sometimes she thought of following her cousin. Those + who have known that most endearing of all passions,—the one whose + duration is each day shortened by time, by age, by mortal illness, by + human chances and fatalities,—they will understand the poor girl’s + tortures. She wept as she walked in the garden, now so narrow to her, as + indeed the court, the house, the town all seemed. She launched in thought + upon the wide expanse of the ocean he was about to traverse. At last the + eve of his departure came. That morning, in the absence of Grandet and of + Nanon, the precious case which contained the two portraits was solemnly + installed in the only drawer of the old cabinet which could be locked, + where the now empty velvet purse was lying. This deposit was not made + without a goodly number of tears and kisses. When Eugenie placed the key + within her bosom she had no courage to forbid the kiss with which Charles + sealed the act. + </p> + <p> + “It shall never leave that place, my friend,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Then my heart will be always there.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Charles, it is not right,” she said, as though she blamed him. + </p> + <p> + “Are we not married?” he said. “I have thy promise,—then take mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Thine; I am thine forever!” they each said, repeating the words twice + over. + </p> + <p> + No promise made upon this earth was ever purer. The innocent sincerity of + Eugenie had sanctified for a moment the young man’s love. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow the breakfast was sad. Nanon herself, in spite of the + gold-embroidered robe and the Jeannette cross bestowed by Charles, had + tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The poor dear monsieur who is going on the seas—oh, may God guide + him!” + </p> + <p> + At half-past ten the whole family started to escort Charles to the + diligence for Nantes. Nanon let loose the dog, locked the door, and + insisted on carrying the young man’s carpet-bag. All the tradesmen in the + tortuous old street were on the sill of their shop-doors to watch the + procession, which was joined in the market-place by Maitre Cruchot. + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie, be sure you don’t cry,” said her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Nephew,” said Grandet, in the doorway of the inn from which the coach + started, kissing Charles on both cheeks, “depart poor, return rich; you + will find the honor of your father safe. I answer for that myself, I—Grandet; + for it will only depend on you to—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my uncle, you soften the bitterness of my departure. Is it not the + best gift that you could make me?” + </p> + <p> + Not understanding his uncle’s words which he had thus interrupted, Charles + shed tears of gratitude upon the tanned cheeks of the old miser, while + Eugenie pressed the hand of her cousin and that of her father with all her + strength. The notary smiled, admiring the sly speech of the old man, which + he alone had understood. The family stood about the coach until it + started; then as it disappeared upon the bridge, and its rumble grew + fainter in the distance, Grandet said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-by to you!” + </p> + <p> + Happily no one but Maitre Cruchot heard the exclamation. Eugenie and her + mother had gone to a corner of the quay from which they could still see + the diligence and wave their white handkerchiefs, to which Charles made + answer by displaying his. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! mother, would that I had the power of God for a single moment,” said + Eugenie, when she could no longer see her lover’s handkerchief. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Not to interrupt the current of events which are about to take place in + the bosom of the Grandet family, it is necessary to cast a forestalling + eye upon the various operations which the goodman carried on in Paris by + means of Monsieur des Grassins. A month after the latter’s departure from + Saumur, Grandet, became possessed of a certificate of a hundred thousand + francs a year from his investment in the Funds, bought at eighty francs + net. The particulars revealed at his death by the inventory of his + property threw no light upon the means which his suspicious nature took to + remit the price of the investment and receive the certificate thereof. + Maitre Cruchot was of opinion that Nanon, unknown to herself, was the + trusty instrument by which the money was transported; for about this time + she was absent five days, under a pretext of putting things to rights at + Froidfond,—as if the goodman were capable of leaving anything lying + about or out of order! + </p> + <p> + In all that concerned the business of the house of Guillaume Grandet the + old cooper’s intentions were fulfilled to the letter. The Bank of France, + as everybody knows, affords exact information about all the large fortunes + in Paris and the provinces. The names of des Grassins and Felix Grandet of + Saumur were well known there, and they enjoyed the esteem bestowed on + financial celebrities whose wealth comes from immense and unencumbered + territorial possessions. The arrival of the Saumur banker for the purpose, + it was said, of honorably liquidating the affairs of Grandet of Paris, was + enough to avert the shame of protested notes from the memory of the + defunct merchant. The seals on the property were taken off in presence of + the creditors, and the notary employed by Grandet went to work at once on + the inventory of the assets. Soon after this, des Grassins called a + meeting of the creditors, who unanimously elected him, conjointly with + Francois Keller, the head of a rich banking-house and one of those + principally interested in the affair, as liquidators, with full power to + protect both the honor of the family and the interests of the claimants. + The credit of Grandet of Saumur, the hopes he diffused by means of des + Grassins in the minds of all concerned, facilitated the transactions. Not + a single creditor proved recalcitrant; no one thought of passing his claim + to his profit-and-loss account; each and all said confidently, “Grandet of + Saumur will pay.” + </p> + <p> + Six months went by. The Parisians had redeemed the notes in circulation as + they fell due, and held them under lock and key in their desks. First + result aimed at by the old cooper! Nine months after this preliminary + meeting, the two liquidators distributed forty-seven per cent to each + creditor on his claim. This amount was obtained by the sale of the + securities, property, and possessions of all kinds belonging to the late + Guillaume Grandet, and was paid over with scrupulous fidelity. + Unimpeachable integrity was shown in the transaction. The creditors + gratefully acknowledged the remarkable and incontestable honor displayed + by the Grandets. When these praises had circulated for a certain length of + time, the creditors asked for the rest of their money. It became necessary + to write a collective letter to Grandet of Saumur. + </p> + <p> + “Here it comes!” said the old man as he threw the letter into the fire. + “Patience, my good friends!” + </p> + <p> + In answer to the proposals contained in the letter, Grandet of Saumur + demanded that all vouchers for claims against the estate of his brother + should be deposited with a notary, together with acquittances for the + forty-seven per cent already paid; he made this demand under pretence of + sifting the accounts and finding out the exact condition of the estate. It + roused at once a variety of difficulties. Generally speaking, the creditor + is a species of maniac, ready to agree to anything one day, on the next + breathing fire and slaughter; later on, he grows amicable and easy-going. + To-day his wife is good-humored, his last baby has cut its first tooth, + all is well at home, and he is determined not to lose a sou; on the morrow + it rains, he can’t go out, he is gloomy, he says yes to any proposal that + is made to him, so long as it will put an end to the affair; on the third + day he declares he must have guarantees; by the end of the month he wants + his debtor’s head, and becomes at heart an executioner. The creditor is a + good deal like the sparrow on whose tail confiding children are invited to + put salt,—with this difference, that he applies the image to his + claim, the proceeds of which he is never able to lay hold of. Grandet had + studied the atmospheric variations of creditors, and the creditors of his + brother justified all his calculations. Some were angry, and flatly + refused to give in their vouchers. + </p> + <p> + “Very good; so much the better,” said Grandet, rubbing his hands over the + letter in which des Grassins announced the fact. + </p> + <p> + Others agreed to the demand, but only on condition that their rights + should be fully guaranteed; they renounced none, and even reserved the + power of ultimately compelling a failure. On this began a long + correspondence, which ended in Grandet of Saumur agreeing to all + conditions. By means of this concession the placable creditors were able + to bring the dissatisfied creditors to reason. The deposit was then made, + but not without sundry complaints. + </p> + <p> + “Your goodman,” they said to des Grassins, “is tricking us.” + </p> + <p> + Twenty-three months after the death of Guillaume Grandet many of the + creditors, carried away by more pressing business in the markets of Paris, + had forgotten their Grandet claims, or only thought of them to say: + </p> + <p> + “I begin to believe that forty-seven per cent is all I shall ever get out + of that affair.” + </p> + <p> + The old cooper had calculated on the power of time, which, as he used to + say, is a pretty good devil after all. By the end of the third year des + Grassins wrote to Grandet that he had brought the creditors to agree to + give up their claims for ten per cent on the two million four hundred + thousand francs still due by the house of Grandet. Grandet answered that + the notary and the broker whose shameful failures had caused the death of + his brother were still living, that they might now have recovered their + credit, and that they ought to be sued, so as to get something out of them + towards lessening the total of the deficit. + </p> + <p> + By the end of the fourth year the liabilities were definitely estimated at + a sum of twelve hundred thousand francs. Many negotiations, lasting over + six months, took place between the creditors and the liquidators, and + between the liquidators and Grandet. To make a long story short, Grandet + of Saumur, anxious by this time to get out of the affair, told the + liquidators, about the ninth month of the fourth year, that his nephew had + made a fortune in the Indies and was disposed to pay his father’s debts in + full; he therefore could not take upon himself to make any settlement + without previously consulting him; he had written to him, and was + expecting an answer. The creditors were held in check until the middle of + the fifth year by the words, “payment in full,” which the wily old miser + threw out from time to time as he laughed in his beard, saying with a + smile and an oath, “Those Parisians!” + </p> + <p> + But the creditors were reserved for a fate unexampled in the annals of + commerce. When the events of this history bring them once more into + notice, they will be found still in the position Grandet had resolved to + force them into from the first. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Funds reached a hundred and fifteen, Pere Grandet sold out + his interests and withdrew two million four hundred thousand francs in + gold, to which he added, in his coffers, the six hundred thousand francs + compound interest which he had derived from the capital. Des Grassins now + lived in Paris. In the first place he had been made a deputy; then he + became infatuated (father of a family as he was, though horribly bored by + the provincial life of Saumur) with a pretty actress at the Theatre de + Madame, known as Florine, and he presently relapsed into the old habits of + his army life. It is useless to speak of his conduct; Saumur considered it + profoundly immoral. His wife was fortunate in the fact of her property + being settled upon herself, and in having sufficient ability to keep up + the banking-house in Saumur, which was managed in her name and repaired + the breach in her fortune caused by the extravagance of her husband. The + Cruchotines made so much talk about the false position of the quasi-widow + that she married her daughter very badly, and was forced to give up all + hope of an alliance between Eugenie Grandet and her son. Adolphe joined + his father in Paris and became, it was said, a worthless fellow. The + Cruchots triumphed. + </p> + <p> + “Your husband hasn’t common sense,” said Grandet as he lent Madame des + Grassins some money on a note securely endorsed. “I am very sorry for you, + for you are a good little woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur,” said the poor lady, “who could have believed that when he + left Saumur to go to Paris on your business he was going to his ruin?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven is my witness, madame, that up to the last moment I did all I + could to prevent him from going. Monsieur le president was most anxious to + take his place; but he was determined to go, and now we all see why.” + </p> + <p> + In this way Grandet made it quite plain that he was under no obligation to + des Grassins. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In all situations women have more cause for suffering than men, and they + suffer more. Man has strength and the power of exercising it; he acts, + moves, thinks, occupies himself; he looks ahead, and sees consolation in + the future. It was thus with Charles. But the woman stays at home; she is + always face to face with the grief from which nothing distracts her; she + goes down to the depths of the abyss which yawns before her, measures it, + and often fills it with her tears and prayers. Thus did Eugenie. She + initiated herself into her destiny. To feel, to love, to suffer, to devote + herself,—is not this the sum of woman’s life? Eugenie was to be in + all things a woman, except in the one thing that consoles for all. Her + happiness, picked up like nails scattered on a wall—to use the fine + simile of Bossuet—would never so much as fill even the hollow of her + hand. Sorrows are never long in coming; for her they came soon. The day + after Charles’s departure the house of Monsieur Grandet resumed its + ordinary aspect in the eyes of all, except in those of Eugenie, to whom it + grew suddenly empty. She wished, if it could be done unknown to her + father, that Charles’s room might be kept as he had left it. Madame + Grandet and Nanon were willing accomplices in this <i>statu quo</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows but he may come back sooner than we think for?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don’t I wish I could see him back!” answered Nanon. “I took to him! + He was such a dear, sweet young man,—pretty too, with his curly + hair.” Eugenie looked at Nanon. “Holy Virgin! don’t look at me that way, + mademoiselle; your eyes are like those of a lost soul.” + </p> + <p> + From that day the beauty of Mademoiselle Grandet took a new character. The + solemn thoughts of love which slowly filled her soul, and the dignity of + the woman beloved, gave to her features an illumination such as painters + render by a halo. Before the coming of her cousin, Eugenie might be + compared to the Virgin before the conception; after he had gone, she was + like the Virgin Mother,—she had given birth to love. These two Marys + so different, so well represented by Spanish art, embody one of those + shining symbols with which Christianity abounds. + </p> + <p> + Returning from Mass on the morning after Charles’s departure,—having + made a vow to hear it daily,—Eugenie bought a map of the world, + which she nailed up beside her looking-glass, that she might follow her + cousin on his westward way, that she might put herself, were it ever so + little, day by day into the ship that bore him, and see him and ask him a + thousand questions,—“Art thou well? Dost thou suffer? Dost thou + think of me when the star, whose beauty and usefulness thou hast taught me + to know, shines upon thee?” In the mornings she sat pensive beneath the + walnut-tree, on the worm-eaten bench covered with gray lichens, where they + had said to each other so many precious things, so many trifles, where + they had built the pretty castles of their future home. She thought of the + future now as she looked upward to the bit of sky which was all the high + walls suffered her to see; then she turned her eyes to the angle where the + sun crept on, and to the roof above the room in which he had slept. Hers + was the solitary love, the persistent love, which glides into every + thought and becomes the substance, or, as our fathers might have said, the + tissue of life. When the would-be friends of Pere Grandet came in the + evening for their game at cards, she was gay and dissimulating; but all + the morning she talked of Charles with her mother and Nanon. Nanon had + brought herself to see that she could pity the sufferings of her young + mistress without failing in her duty to the old master, and she would say + to Eugenie,— + </p> + <p> + “If I had a man for myself I’d—I’d follow him to hell, yes, I’d + exterminate myself for him; but I’ve none. I shall die and never know what + life is. Would you believe, mamz’elle, that old Cornoiller (a good fellow + all the same) is always round my petticoats for the sake of my money,—just + for all the world like the rats who come smelling after the master’s + cheese and paying court to you? I see it all; I’ve got a shrewd eye, + though I am as big as a steeple. Well, mamz’elle, it pleases me, but it + isn’t love.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X + </h2> + <p> + Two months went by. This domestic life, once so monotonous, was now + quickened with the intense interest of a secret that bound these women + intimately together. For them Charles lived and moved beneath the grim + gray rafters of the hall. Night and morning Eugenie opened the + dressing-case and gazed at the portrait of her aunt. One Sunday morning + her mother surprised her as she stood absorbed in finding her cousin’s + features in his mother’s face. Madame Grandet was then for the first time + admitted into the terrible secret of the exchange made by Charles against + her daughter’s treasure. + </p> + <p> + “You gave him all!” cried the poor mother, terrified. “What will you say + to your father on New Year’s Day when he asks to see your gold?” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie’s eyes grew fixed, and the two women lived through mortal terror + for more than half the morning. They were so troubled in mind that they + missed high Mass, and only went to the military service. In three days the + year 1819 would come to an end. In three days a terrible drama would + begin, a bourgeois tragedy, without poison, or dagger, or the spilling of + blood; but—as regards the actors in it—more cruel than all the + fabled horrors in the family of the Atrides. + </p> + <p> + “What will become of us?” said Madame Grandet to her daughter, letting her + knitting fall upon her knees. + </p> + <p> + The poor mother had gone through such anxiety for the past two months that + the woollen sleeves which she needed for the coming winter were not yet + finished. This domestic fact, insignificant as it seems, bore sad results. + For want of those sleeves, a chill seized her in the midst of a sweat + caused by a terrible explosion of anger on the part of her husband. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking, my poor child, that if you had confided your secret + to me we should have had time to write to Monsieur des Grassins in Paris. + He might have sent us gold pieces like yours; though Grandet knows them + all, perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “Where could we have got the money?” + </p> + <p> + “I would have pledged my own property. Besides, Monsieur des Grassins + would have—” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said Eugenie in a broken, hollow voice. “To-morrow + morning we must go and wish him a happy New Year in his chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my daughter, why should I not consult the Cruchots?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; it would be delivering me up to them, and putting ourselves in + their power. Besides, I have chosen my course. I have done right, I repent + of nothing. God will protect me. His will be done! Ah! mother, if you had + read his letter, you, too, would have thought only of him.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning, January 1, 1820, the horrible fear to which mother and + daughter were a prey suggested to their minds a natural excuse by which to + escape the solemn entrance into Grandet’s chamber. The winter of 1819-1820 + was one of the coldest of that epoch. The snow encumbered the roofs. + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet called to her husband as soon as she heard him stirring in + his chamber, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Grandet, will you let Nanon light a fire here for me? The cold is so + sharp that I am freezing under the bedclothes. At my age I need some + comforts. Besides,” she added, after a slight pause, “Eugenie shall come + and dress here; the poor child might get an illness from dressing in her + cold room in such weather. Then we will go and wish you a happy New Year + beside the fire in the hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta, what a tongue! a pretty way to begin the new year, Madame + Grandet! You never talked so much before; but you haven’t been sopping + your bread in wine, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” resumed the goodman, who no doubt had some reason of his own for + agreeing to his wife’s request, “I’ll do what you ask, Madame Grandet. You + are a good woman, and I don’t want any harm to happen to you at your time + of life,—though as a general thing the Bertellieres are as sound as + a roach. Hein! isn’t that so?” he added after a pause. “Well, I forgive + them; we got their property in the end.” And he coughed. + </p> + <p> + “You are very gay this morning, monsieur,” said the poor woman gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I’m always gay,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Gai, gai, gai, le tonnelier, + Raccommodez votre cuvier!’” + </pre> + <p> + he answered, entering his wife’s room fully dressed. “Yes, on my word, it + is cold enough to freeze you solid. We shall have a fine breakfast, wife. + Des Grassins has sent me a pate-de-foie-gras truffled! I am going now to + get it at the coach-office. There’ll be a double napoleon for Eugenie in + the package,” he whispered in Madame Grandet’s ear. “I have no gold left, + wife. I had a few stray pieces—I don’t mind telling you that—but + I had to let them go in business.” + </p> + <p> + Then, by way of celebrating the new year, he kissed her on the forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie,” cried the mother, when Grandet was fairly gone, “I don’t know + which side of the bed your father got out of, but he is good-tempered this + morning. Perhaps we shall come out safe after all?” + </p> + <p> + “What’s happened to the master?” said Nanon, entering her mistress’s room + to light the fire. “First place, he said, ‘Good-morning; happy New Year, + you big fool! Go and light my wife’s fire, she’s cold’; and then, didn’t I + feel silly when he held out his hand and gave me a six-franc piece, which + isn’t worn one bit? Just look at it, madame! Oh, the kind man! He is a + good man, that’s a fact. There are some people who the older they get the + harder they grow; but he,—why he’s getting soft and improving with + time, like your ratafia! He is a good, good man—” + </p> + <p> + The secret of Grandet’s joy lay in the complete success of his + speculation. Monsieur des Grassins, after deducting the amount which the + old cooper owed him for the discount on a hundred and fifty thousand + francs in Dutch notes, and for the surplus which he had advanced to make + up the sum required for the investment in the Funds which was to produce a + hundred thousand francs a year, had now sent him, by the diligence, thirty + thousand francs in silver coin, the remainder of his first half-year’s + interest, informing him at the same time that the Funds had already gone + up in value. They were then quoted at eighty-nine; the shrewdest + capitalists bought in, towards the last of January, at ninety-three. + Grandet had thus gained in two months twelve per cent on his capital; he + had simplified his accounts, and would in future receive fifty thousand + francs interest every six months, without incurring any taxes or costs for + repairs. He understood at last what it was to invest money in the public + securities,—a system for which provincials have always shown a + marked repugnance,—and at the end of five years he found himself + master of a capital of six millions, which increased without much effort + of his own, and which, joined to the value and proceeds of his territorial + possessions, gave him a fortune that was absolutely colossal. The six + francs bestowed on Nanon were perhaps the reward of some great service + which the poor servant had rendered to her master unawares. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! where’s Pere Grandet going? He has been scurrying about since + sunrise as if to a fire,” said the tradespeople to each other as they + opened their shops for the day. + </p> + <p> + When they saw him coming back from the wharf, followed by a porter from + the coach-office wheeling a barrow which was laden with sacks, they all + had their comments to make:— + </p> + <p> + “Water flows to the river; the old fellow was running after his gold,” + said one. + </p> + <p> + “He gets it from Paris and Froidfond and Holland,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “He’ll end by buying up Saumur,” cried a third. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t mind the cold, he’s so wrapped up in his gains,” said a wife + to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Hey! hey! Monsieur Grandet, if that’s too heavy for you,” said a + cloth-dealer, his nearest neighbor, “I’ll take it off your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavy?” said the cooper, “I should think so; it’s all sous!” + </p> + <p> + “Silver sous,” said the porter in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “If you want me to take care of you, keep your tongue between your teeth,” + said the goodman to the porter as they reached the door. + </p> + <p> + “The old fox! I thought he was deaf; seems he can hear fast enough in + frosty weather.” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s twenty sous for your New Year, and <i>mum</i>!” said Grandet. “Be + off with you! Nanon shall take back your barrow. Nanon, are the linnets at + church?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Then lend a hand! go to work!” he cried, piling the sacks upon her. In a + few moments all were carried up to his inner room, where he shut himself + in with them. “When breakfast is ready, knock on the wall,” he said as he + disappeared. “Take the barrow back to the coach-office.” + </p> + <p> + The family did not breakfast that day until ten o’clock. + </p> + <p> + “Your father will not ask to see your gold downstairs,” said Madame + Grandet as they got back from Mass. “You must pretend to be very chilly. + We may have time to replace the treasure before your fete-day.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet came down the staircase thinking of his splendid speculation in + government securities, and wondering how he could metamorphose his + Parisian silver into solid gold; he was making up his mind to invest in + this way everything he could lay hands on until the Funds should reach a + par value. Fatal reverie for Eugenie! As soon as he came in, the two women + wished him a happy New Year,—his daughter by putting her arms round + his neck and caressing him; Madame Grandet gravely and with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! my child,” he said, kissing his daughter on both cheeks. “I work + for you, don’t you see? I think of your happiness. Must have money to be + happy. Without money there’s not a particle of happiness. Here! there’s a + new napoleon for you. I sent to Paris for it. On my word of honor, it’s + all the gold I have; you are the only one that has got any gold. I want to + see your gold, little one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is too cold; let us have breakfast,” answered Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, after breakfast, then; it will help the digestion. That fat des + Grassins sent me the pate. Eat as much as you like, my children, it costs + nothing. Des Grassins is getting along very well. I am satisfied with him. + The old fish is doing Charles a good service, and gratis too. He is making + a very good settlement of that poor deceased Grandet’s business. Hoo! + hoo!” he muttered, with his mouth full, after a pause, “how good it is! + Eat some, wife; that will feed you for at least two days.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not hungry. I am very poorly; you know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bah! you can stuff yourself as full as you please without danger, + you’re a Bertelliere; they are all hearty. You are a bit yellow, that’s + true; but I like yellow, myself.” + </p> + <p> + The expectation of ignominious and public death is perhaps less horrible + to a condemned criminal than the anticipation of what was coming after + breakfast to Madame Grandet and Eugenie. The more gleefully the old man + talked and ate, the more their hearts shrank within them. The daughter, + however, had an inward prop at this crisis,—she gathered strength + through love. + </p> + <p> + “For him! for him!” she cried within her, “I would die a thousand deaths.” + </p> + <p> + At this thought, she shot a glance at her mother which flamed with + courage. + </p> + <p> + “Clear away,” said Grandet to Nanon when, about eleven o’clock, breakfast + was over, “but leave the table. We can spread your little treasure upon + it,” he said, looking at Eugenie. “Little? Faith! no; it isn’t little. You + possess, in actual value, five thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine francs + and the forty I gave you just now. That makes six thousand francs, less + one. Well, now see here, little one! I’ll give you that one franc to make + up the round number. Hey! what are you listening for, Nanon? Mind your own + business; go and do your work.” + </p> + <p> + Nanon disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Now listen, Eugenie; you must give me back your gold. You won’t refuse + your father, my little girl, hein?” + </p> + <p> + The two women were dumb. + </p> + <p> + “I have no gold myself. I had some, but it is all gone. I’ll give you in + return six thousand francs in <i>livres</i>, and you are to put them just + where I tell you. You mustn’t think anything more about your ‘dozen.’ When + I marry you (which will be soon) I shall get you a husband who can give + you the finest ‘dozen’ ever seen in the provinces. Now attend to me, + little girl. There’s a fine chance for you; you can put your six thousand + francs into government funds, and you will receive every six months nearly + two hundred francs interest, without taxes, or repairs, or frost, or hail, + or floods, or anything else to swallow up the money. Perhaps you don’t + like to part with your gold, hey, my girl? Never mind, bring it to me all + the same. I’ll get you some more like it,—like those Dutch coins and + the <i>portugaises</i>, the rupees of Mogul, and the <i>genovines</i>,—I’ll + give you some more on your fete-days, and in three years you’ll have got + back half your little treasure. What’s that you say? Look up, now. Come, + go and get it, the precious metal. You ought to kiss me on the eyelids for + telling you the secrets and the mysteries of the life and death of money. + Yes, silver and gold live and swarm like men; they come, and go, and + sweat, and multiply—” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie rose; but after making a few steps towards the door she turned + abruptly, looked her father in the face, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “I have not got <i>my</i> gold.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not got your gold!” cried Grandet, starting up erect, like a + horse that hears a cannon fired beside him. + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not got it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, Eugenie.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “By the shears of my father!” + </p> + <p> + Whenever the old man swore that oath the rafters trembled. + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin! Madame is turning pale,” cried Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Grandet, your anger will kill me,” said the poor mother. + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta! nonsense; you never die in your family! Eugenie, what + have you done with your gold?” he cried, rushing upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the daughter, falling at Madame Grandet’s knees, “my + mother is ill. Look at her; do not kill her.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet was frightened by the pallor which overspread his wife’s face, + usually so yellow. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, help me to bed,” said the poor woman in a feeble voice; “I am + dying—” + </p> + <p> + Nanon gave her mistress an arm, Eugenie gave her another; but it was only + with infinite difficulty that they could get her upstairs, she fell with + exhaustion at every step. Grandet remained alone. However, in a few + moments he went up six or eight stairs and called out,— + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie, when your mother is in bed, come down.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father.” + </p> + <p> + She soon came, after reassuring her mother. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” said Grandet, “you will now tell me what you have done with + your gold.” + </p> + <p> + “My father, if you make me presents of which I am not the sole mistress, + take them back,” she answered coldly, picking up the napoleon from the + chimney-piece and offering it to him. + </p> + <p> + Grandet seized the coin and slipped it into his breeches’ pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I shall certainly never give you anything again. Not so much as that!” he + said, clicking his thumb-nail against a front tooth. “Do you dare to + despise your father? have you no confidence in him? Don’t you know what a + father is? If he is nothing for you, he is nothing at all. Where is your + gold?” + </p> + <p> + “Father, I love and respect you, in spite of your anger; but I humbly ask + you to remember that I am twenty-three years old. You have told me often + that I have attained my majority, and I do not forget it. I have used my + money as I chose to use it, and you may be sure that it was put to a good + use—” + </p> + <p> + “What use?” + </p> + <p> + “That is an inviolable secret,” she answered. “Have you no secrets?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the head of the family; I have my own affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “And this is mine.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be something bad if you can’t tell it to your father, + Mademoiselle Grandet.” + </p> + <p> + “It is good, and I cannot tell it to my father.” + </p> + <p> + “At least you can tell me when you parted with your gold?” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie made a negative motion with her head. + </p> + <p> + “You had it on your birthday, hein?” + </p> + <p> + She grew as crafty through love as her father was through avarice, and + reiterated the negative sign. + </p> + <p> + “Was there ever such obstinacy! It’s a theft,” cried Grandet, his voice + going up in a crescendo which gradually echoed through the house. “What! + here, in my own home, under my very eyes, somebody has taken your gold!—the + only gold we have!—and I’m not to know who has got it! Gold is a + precious thing. Virtuous girls go wrong sometimes, and give—I don’t + know what; they do it among the great people, and even among the + bourgeoisie. But give their gold!—for you have given it to some one, + hein?—” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie was silent and impassive. + </p> + <p> + “Was there ever such a daughter? Is it possible that I am your father? If + you have invested it anywhere, you must have a receipt—” + </p> + <p> + “Was I free—yes or no—to do what I would with my own? Was it + not mine?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a child.” + </p> + <p> + “Of age.” + </p> + <p> + Dumbfounded by his daughter’s logic, Grandet turned pale and stamped and + swore. When at last he found words, he cried: “Serpent! Cursed girl! Ah, + deceitful creature! You know I love you, and you take advantage of it. + She’d cut her father’s throat! Good God! you’ve given our fortune to that + ne’er-do-well,—that dandy with morocco boots! By the shears of my + father! I can’t disinherit you, but I curse you,—you and your cousin + and your children! Nothing good will come of it! Do you hear? If it was to + Charles—but, no; it’s impossible. What! has that wretched fellow + robbed me?—” + </p> + <p> + He looked at his daughter, who continued cold and silent. + </p> + <p> + “She won’t stir; she won’t flinch! She’s more Grandet than I’m Grandet! + Ha! you have not given your gold for nothing? Come, speak the truth!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie looked at her father with a sarcastic expression that stung him. + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie, you are here, in my house,—in your father’s house. If you + wish to stay here, you must submit yourself to me. The priests tell you to + obey me.” Eugenie bowed her head. “You affront me in all I hold most dear. + I will not see you again until you submit. Go to your chamber. You will + stay there till I give you permission to leave it. Nanon will bring you + bread and water. You hear me—go!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie burst into tears and fled up to her mother. Grandet, after + marching two or three times round the garden in the snow without heeding + the cold, suddenly suspected that his daughter had gone to her mother; + only too happy to find her disobedient to his orders, he climbed the + stairs with the agility of a cat and appeared in Madame Grandet’s room + just as she was stroking Eugenie’s hair, while the girl’s face was hidden + in her motherly bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Be comforted, my poor child,” she was saying; “your father will get over + it.” + </p> + <p> + “She has no father!” said the old man. “Can it be you and I, Madame + Grandet, who have given birth to such a disobedient child? A fine + education,—religious, too! Well! why are you not in your chamber? + Come, to prison, to prison, mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “Would you deprive me of my daughter, monsieur?” said Madame Grandet, + turning towards him a face that was now red with fever. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to keep her, carry her off! Clear out—out of my house, + both of you! Thunder! where is the gold? what’s become of the gold?” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie rose, looked proudly at her father, and withdrew to her room. + Grandet turned the key of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon,” he cried, “put out the fire in the hall.” + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down in an armchair beside his wife’s fire and said to her,— + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly she has given the gold to that miserable seducer, Charles, + who only wanted our money.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew nothing about it,” she answered, turning to the other side of the + bed, that she might escape the savage glances of her husband. “I suffer so + much from your violence that I shall never leave this room, if I trust my + own presentiments, till I am carried out of it in my coffin. You ought to + have spared me this suffering, monsieur,—you, to whom I have caused + no pain; that is, I think so. Your daughter loves you. I believe her to be + as innocent as the babe unborn. Do not make her wretched. Revoke your + sentence. The cold is very severe; you may give her some serious illness.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not see her, neither will I speak to her. She shall stay in her + room, on bread and water, until she submits to her father. What the devil! + shouldn’t a father know where the gold in his house has gone to? She owned + the only rupees in France, perhaps, and the Dutch ducats and the <i>genovines</i>—” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, Eugenie is our only child; and even if she had thrown them into + the water—” + </p> + <p> + “Into the water!” cried her husband; “into the water! You are crazy, + Madame Grandet! What I have said is said; you know that well enough. If + you want peace in this household, make your daughter confess, pump it out + of her. Women understand how to do that better than we do. Whatever she + has done, I sha’n’t eat her. Is she afraid of me? Even if she has + plastered Charles with gold from head to foot, he is on the high seas, and + nobody can get at him, hein!” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur—” Excited by the nervous crisis through which she had + passed, and by the fate of her daughter, which brought forth all her + tenderness and all her powers of mind, Madame Grandet suddenly observed a + frightful movement of her husband’s wen, and, in the very act of replying, + she changed her speech without changing the tones of her voice,—“But, + monsieur, I have not more influence over her than you have. She has said + nothing to me; she takes after you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut! Your tongue is hung in the middle this morning. Ta, ta, ta, ta! + You are setting me at defiance, I do believe. I daresay you are in league + with her.” + </p> + <p> + He looked fixedly at his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Grandet, if you wish to kill me, you have only to go on like + this. I tell you, monsieur,—and if it were to cost me my life, I + would say it,—you do wrong by your daughter; she is more in the + right than you are. That money belonged to her; she is incapable of making + any but a good use of it, and God alone has the right to know our good + deeds. Monsieur, I implore you, take Eugenie back into favor; forgive her. + If you will do this you will lessen the injury your anger has done me; + perhaps you will save my life. My daughter! oh, monsieur, give me back my + daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall decamp,” he said; “the house is not habitable. A mother and + daughter talking and arguing like that! Broooouh! Pouah! A fine New Year’s + present you’ve made me, Eugenie,” he called out. “Yes, yes, cry away! What + you’ve done will bring you remorse, do you hear? What’s the good of taking + the sacrament six times every three months, if you give away your father’s + gold secretly to an idle fellow who’ll eat your heart out when you’ve + nothing else to give him? You’ll find out some day what your Charles is + worth, with his morocco boots and supercilious airs. He has got neither + heart nor soul if he dared to carry off a young girl’s treasure without + the consent of her parents.” + </p> + <p> + When the street-door was shut, Eugenie came out of her room and went to + her mother. + </p> + <p> + “What courage you have had for your daughter’s sake!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my child, see where forbidden things may lead us. You forced me to + tell a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “I will ask God to punish only me.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it true,” cried Nanon, rushing in alarmed, “that mademoiselle is to be + kept on bread and water for the rest of her life?” + </p> + <p> + “What does that signify, Nanon?” said Eugenie tranquilly. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness! do you suppose I’ll eat <i>frippe</i> when the daughter of the + house is eating dry bread? No, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say a word about all this, Nanon,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll be as mute as a fish; but you’ll see!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Grandet dined alone for the first time in twenty-four years. + </p> + <p> + “So you’re a widower, monsieur,” said Nanon; “it must be disagreeable to + be a widower with two women in the house.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not speak to you. Hold your jaw, or I’ll turn you off! What is that + I hear boiling in your saucepan on the stove?” + </p> + <p> + “It is grease I’m trying out.” + </p> + <p> + “There will be some company to-night. Light the fire.” + </p> + <p> + The Cruchots, Madame des Grassins, and her son arrived at the usual hour + of eight, and were surprised to see neither Madame Grandet nor her + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “My wife is not very well, and Eugenie is with her,” said the old + wine-grower, whose face betrayed no emotion. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour spent in idle conversation, Madame des Grassins, who + had gone up to see Madame Grandet, came down, and every one inquired,— + </p> + <p> + “How is Madame Grandet?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all well,” she answered; “her condition seems to me really + alarming. At her age you ought to take every precaution, Papa Grandet.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll see about it,” said the old man in an absent way. + </p> + <p> + They all wished him good-night. When the Cruchots got into the street + Madame des Grassins said to them,— + </p> + <p> + “There is something going on at the Grandets. The mother is very ill + without her knowing it. The girl’s eyes are red, as if she had been crying + all day. Can they be trying to marry her against her will?” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + When Grandet had gone to bed Nanon came softly to Eugenie’s room in her + stockinged feet and showed her a pate baked in a saucepan. + </p> + <p> + “See, mademoiselle,” said the good soul, “Cornoiller gave me a hare. You + eat so little that this pate will last you full a week; in such frosty + weather it won’t spoil. You sha’n’t live on dry bread, I’m determined; it + isn’t wholesome.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Nanon!” said Eugenie, pressing her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve made it downright good and dainty, and <i>he</i> never found it out. + I bought the lard and the spices out of my six francs: I’m the mistress of + my own money”; and she disappeared rapidly, fancying she heard Grandet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI + </h2> + <p> + For several months the old wine-grower came constantly to his wife’s room + at all hours of the day, without ever uttering his daughter’s name, or + seeing her, or making the smallest allusion to her. Madame Grandet did not + leave her chamber, and daily grew worse. Nothing softened the old man; he + remained unmoved, harsh, and cold as a granite rock. He continued to go + and come about his business as usual; but ceased to stutter, talked less, + and was more obdurate in business transactions than ever before. Often he + made mistakes in adding up his figures. + </p> + <p> + “Something is going on at the Grandets,” said the Grassinists and the + Cruchotines. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened in the Grandet family?” became a fixed question which + everybody asked everybody else at the little evening-parties of Saumur. + Eugenie went to Mass escorted by Nanon. If Madame des Grassins said a few + words to her on coming out of church, she answered in an evasive manner, + without satisfying any curiosity. However, at the end of two months, it + became impossible to hide, either from the three Cruchots or from Madame + des Grassins, the fact that Eugenie was in confinement. There came a + moment when all pretexts failed to explain her perpetual absence. Then, + though it was impossible to discover by whom the secret had been betrayed, + all the town became aware that ever since New Year’s day Mademoiselle + Grandet had been kept in her room without fire, on bread and water, by her + father’s orders, and that Nanon cooked little dainties and took them to + her secretly at night. It was even known that the young woman was not able + to see or take care of her mother, except at certain times when her father + was out of the house. + </p> + <p> + Grandet’s conduct was severely condemned. The whole town outlawed him, so + to speak; they remembered his treachery, his hard-heartedness, and they + excommunicated him. When he passed along the streets, people pointed him + out and muttered at him. When his daughter came down the winding street, + accompanied by Nanon, on her way to Mass or Vespers, the inhabitants ran + to the windows and examined with intense curiosity the bearing of the rich + heiress and her countenance, which bore the impress of angelic gentleness + and melancholy. Her imprisonment and the condemnation of her father were + as nothing to her. Had she not a map of the world, the little bench, the + garden, the angle of the wall? Did she not taste upon her lips the honey + that love’s kisses left there? She was ignorant for a time that the town + talked about her, just as Grandet himself was ignorant of it. Pious and + pure in heart before God, her conscience and her love helped her to suffer + patiently the wrath and vengeance of her father. + </p> + <p> + One deep grief silenced all others. Her mother, that gentle, tender + creature, made beautiful by the light which shone from the inner to the + outer as she approached the tomb,—her mother was perishing from day + to day. Eugenie often reproached herself as the innocent cause of the + slow, cruel malady that was wasting her away. This remorse, though her + mother soothed it, bound her still closer to her love. Every morning, as + soon as her father left the house, she went to the bedside of her mother, + and there Nanon brought her breakfast. The poor girl, sad, and suffering + through the sufferings of her mother, would turn her face to the old + servant with a mute gesture, weeping, and yet not daring to speak of her + cousin. It was Madame Grandet who first found courage to say,— + </p> + <p> + “Where is <i>he</i>? Why does <i>he</i> not write?” + </p> + <p> + “Let us think about him, mother, but not speak of him. You are ill—you, + before all.” + </p> + <p> + “All” meant “him.” + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said Madame Grandet, “I do not wish to live. God protects me + and enables me to look with joy to the end of my misery.” + </p> + <p> + Every utterance of this woman was unfalteringly pious and Christian. + Sometimes, during the first months of the year, when her husband came to + breakfast with her and tramped up and down the room, she would say to him + a few religious words, always spoken with angelic sweetness, yet with the + firmness of a woman to whom approaching death lends a courage she had + lacked in life. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I thank you for the interest you take in my health,” she would + answer when he made some commonplace inquiry; “but if you really desire to + render my last moments less bitter and to ease my grief, take back your + daughter: be a Christian, a husband, and a father.” + </p> + <p> + When he heard these words, Grandet would sit down by the bed with the air + of a man who sees the rain coming and quietly gets under the shelter of a + gateway till it is over. When these touching, tender, and religious + supplications had all been made, he would say,— + </p> + <p> + “You are rather pale to-day, my poor wife.” + </p> + <p> + Absolute forgetfulness of his daughter seemed graven on his stony brow, on + his closed lips. He was unmoved by the tears which flowed down the white + cheeks of his unhappy wife as she listened to his meaningless answers. + </p> + <p> + “May God pardon you,” she said, “even as I pardon you! You will some day + stand in need of mercy.” + </p> + <p> + Since Madame Grandet’s illness he had not dared to make use of his + terrible “Ta, ta, ta, ta!” Yet, for all that, his despotic nature was not + disarmed by this angel of gentleness, whose ugliness day by day decreased, + driven out by the ineffable expression of moral qualities which shone upon + her face. She was all soul. The spirit of prayer seemed to purify her and + refine those homely features and make them luminous. Who has not seen the + phenomenon of a like transfiguration on sacred faces where the habits of + the soul have triumphed over the plainest features, giving them that + spiritual illumination whose light comes from the purity and nobility of + the inward thought? The spectacle of this transformation wrought by the + struggle which consumed the last shreds of the human life of this woman, + did somewhat affect the old cooper, though feebly, for his nature was of + iron; if his language ceased to be contemptuous, an imperturbable silence, + which saved his dignity as master of the household, took its place and + ruled his conduct. + </p> + <p> + When the faithful Nanon appeared in the market, many quips and quirks and + complaints about the master whistled in her ears; but however loudly + public opinion condemned Monsieur Grandet, the old servant defended him, + for the honor of the family. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” she would say to his detractors, “don’t we all get hard as we grow + old? Why shouldn’t he get horny too? Stop telling lies. Mademoiselle lives + like a queen. She’s alone, that’s true; but she likes it. Besides, my + masters have good reasons.” + </p> + <p> + At last, towards the end of spring, Madame Grandet, worn out by grief even + more than by illness, having failed, in spite of her prayers, to reconcile + the father and daughter, confided her secret troubles to the Cruchots. + </p> + <p> + “Keep a girl of twenty-three on bread and water!” cried Monsieur de + Bonfons; “without any reason, too! Why, that constitutes wrongful cruelty; + she can contest, as much in as upon—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, nephew, spare us your legal jargon,” said the notary. “Set your + mind at ease, madame; I will put a stop to such treatment to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie, hearing herself mentioned, came out of her room. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” she said, coming forward with a proud step, “I beg you not to + interfere in this matter. My father is master in his own house. As long as + I live under his roof I am bound to obey him. His conduct is not subject + to the approbation or the disapprobation of the world; he is accountable + to God only. I appeal to your friendship to keep total silence in this + affair. To blame my father is to attack our family honor. I am much + obliged to you for the interest you have shown in me; you will do me an + additional service if you will put a stop to the offensive rumors which + are current in the town, of which I am accidentally informed.” + </p> + <p> + “She is right,” said Madame Grandet. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, the best way to stop such rumors is to procure your + liberty,” answered the old notary respectfully, struck with the beauty + which seclusion, melancholy, and love had stamped upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my daughter, let Monsieur Cruchot manage the matter if he is so + sure of success. He understands your father, and how to manage him. If you + wish to see me happy for my few remaining days, you must, at any cost, be + reconciled to your father.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow Grandet, in pursuance of a custom he had begun since + Eugenie’s imprisonment, took a certain number of turns up and down the + little garden; he had chosen the hour when Eugenie brushed and arranged + her hair. When the old man reached the walnut-tree he hid behind its trunk + and remained for a few moments watching his daughter’s movements, + hesitating, perhaps, between the course to which the obstinacy of his + character impelled him and his natural desire to embrace his child. + Sometimes he sat down on the rotten old bench where Charles and Eugenie + had vowed eternal love; and then she, too, looked at her father secretly + in the mirror before which she stood. If he rose and continued his walk, + she sat down obligingly at the window and looked at the angle of the wall + where the pale flowers hung, where the Venus-hair grew from the crevices + with the bindweed and the sedum,—a white or yellow stone-crop very + abundant in the vineyards of Saumur and at Tours. Maitre Cruchot came + early, and found the old wine-grower sitting in the fine June weather on + the little bench, his back against the division wall of the garden, + engaged in watching his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “What may you want, Maitre Cruchot?” he said, perceiving the notary. + </p> + <p> + “I came to speak to you on business.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah! have you brought some gold in exchange for my silver?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I have not come about money; it is about your daughter Eugenie. + All the town is talking of her and you.” + </p> + <p> + “What does the town meddle for? A man’s house is his castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true; and a man may kill himself if he likes, or, what is worse, he + may fling his money into the gutter.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, your wife is very ill, my friend. You ought to consult Monsieur + Bergerin; she is likely to die. If she does die without receiving proper + care, you will not be very easy in mind, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta! you know a deal about my wife! These doctors, if they + once get their foot in your house, will come five and six times a day.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you will do as you think best. We are old friends; there is no + one in all Saumur who takes more interest than I in what concerns you. + Therefore, I was bound to tell you this. However, happen what may, you + have the right to do as you please; you can choose your own course. + Besides, that is not what brings me here. There is another thing which may + have serious results for you. After all, you can’t wish to kill your wife; + her life is too important to you. Think of your situation in connection + with your daughter if Madame Grandet dies. You must render an account to + Eugenie, because you enjoy your wife’s estate only during her lifetime. At + her death your daughter can claim a division of property, and she may + force you to sell Froidfond. In short, she is her mother’s heir, and you + are not.” + </p> + <p> + These words fell like a thunderbolt on the old man, who was not as wise + about law as he was about business. He had never thought of a legal + division of the estate. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore I advise you to treat her kindly,” added Cruchot, in + conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “But do you know what she has done, Cruchot?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked the notary, curious to hear the truth and find out the cause + of the quarrel. + </p> + <p> + “She has given away her gold!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, wasn’t it hers?” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + “They all tell me that!” exclaimed the old man, letting his arms fall to + his sides with a movement that was truly tragic. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going—for a mere nothing,”—resumed Cruchot, “to put + obstacles in the way of the concessions which you will be obliged to ask + from your daughter as soon as her mother dies?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call six thousand francs a mere nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey! my old friend, do you know what the inventory of your wife’s + property will cost, if Eugenie demands the division?” + </p> + <p> + “How much?” + </p> + <p> + “Two, three, four thousand francs, perhaps! The property would have to be + put up at auction and sold, to get at its actual value. Instead of that, + if you are on good terms with—” + </p> + <p> + “By the shears of my father!” cried Grandet, turning pale as he suddenly + sat down, “we will see about it, Cruchot.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s silence, full of anguish perhaps, the old man looked at + the notary and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Life is very hard! It has many griefs! Cruchot,” he continued solemnly, + “you would not deceive me? Swear to me upon your honor that all you’ve + told me is legally true. Show me the law; I must see the law!” + </p> + <p> + “My poor friend,” said the notary, “don’t I know my own business?” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is true! I am robbed, betrayed, killed, destroyed by my own + daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “It is true that your daughter is her mother’s heir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do we have children? Ah! my wife, I love her! Luckily she’s sound and + healthy; she’s a Bertelliere.” + </p> + <p> + “She has not a month to live.” + </p> + <p> + Grandet struck his forehead, went a few steps, came back, cast a dreadful + look on Cruchot, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “What can be done?” + </p> + <p> + “Eugenie can relinquish her claim to her mother’s property. Should she do + this you would not disinherit her, I presume?—but if you want to + come to such a settlement, you must not treat her harshly. What I am + telling you, old man, is against my own interests. What do I live by, if + it isn’t liquidations, inventories, conveyances, divisions of property?—” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll see, we’ll see! Don’t let’s talk any more about it, Cruchot; it + wrings my vitals. Have you received any gold?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I have a few old louis, a dozen or so, which you may have. My + good friend, make it up with Eugenie. Don’t you know all Saumur is pelting + you with stones?” + </p> + <p> + “The scoundrels!” + </p> + <p> + “Come, the Funds are at ninety-nine. Do be satisfied for once in your + life.” + </p> + <p> + “At ninety-nine! Are they, Cruchot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey, hey! Ninety-nine!” repeated the old man, accompanying the notary to + the street-door. Then, too agitated by what he had just heard to stay in + the house, he went up to his wife’s room and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Come, mother, you may have your daughter to spend the day with you. I’m + going to Froidfond. Enjoy yourselves, both of you. This is our + wedding-day, wife. See! here are sixty francs for your altar at the + Fete-Dieu; you’ve wanted one for a long time. Come, cheer up, enjoy + yourself, and get well! Hurrah for happiness!” + </p> + <p> + He threw ten silver pieces of six francs each upon the bed, and took his + wife’s head between his hands and kissed her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “My good wife, you are getting well, are not you?” + </p> + <p> + “How can you think of receiving the God of mercy in your house when you + refuse to forgive your daughter?” she said with emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta!” said Grandet in a coaxing voice. “We’ll see about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Merciful heaven! Eugenie,” cried the mother, flushing with joy, “come and + kiss your father; he forgives you!” + </p> + <p> + But the old man had disappeared. He was going as fast as his legs could + carry him towards his vineyards, trying to get his confused ideas into + order. Grandet had entered his seventy-sixth year. During the last two + years his avarice had increased upon him, as all the persistent passions + of men increase at a certain age. As if to illustrate an observation which + applies equally to misers, ambitious men, and others whose lives are + controlled by any dominant idea, his affections had fastened upon one + special symbol of his passion. The sight of gold, the possession of gold, + had become a monomania. His despotic spirit had grown in proportion to his + avarice, and to part with the control of the smallest fraction of his + property at the death of his wife seemed to him a thing “against nature.” + To declare his fortune to his daughter, to give an inventory of his + property, landed and personal, for the purposes of division— + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he cried aloud in the midst of a field where he was pretending to + examine a vine, “it would be cutting my throat!” + </p> + <p> + He came at last to a decision, and returned to Saumur in time for dinner, + resolved to unbend to Eugenie, and pet and coax her, that he might die + regally, holding the reins of his millions in his own hands so long as the + breath was in his body. At the moment when the old man, who chanced to + have his pass-key in his pocket, opened the door and climbed with a + stealthy step up the stairway to go into his wife’s room, Eugenie had + brought the beautiful dressing-case from the oak cabinet and placed it on + her mother’s bed. Mother and daughter, in Grandet’s absence, allowed + themselves the pleasure of looking for a likeness to Charles in the + portrait of his mother. + </p> + <p> + “It is exactly his forehead and his mouth,” Eugenie was saying as the old + man opened the door. At the look which her husband cast upon the gold, + Madame Grandet cried out,— + </p> + <p> + “O God, have pity upon us!” + </p> + <p> + The old man sprang upon the box as a famished tiger might spring upon a + sleeping child. + </p> + <p> + “What’s this?” he said, snatching the treasure and carrying it to the + window. “Gold, good gold!” he cried. “All gold,—it weighs two + pounds! Ha, ha! Charles gave you that for your money, did he? Hein! Why + didn’t you tell me so? It was a good bargain, little one! Yes, you are my + daughter, I see that—” Eugenie trembled in every limb. “This came + from Charles, of course, didn’t it?” continued the old man. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father; it is not mine. It is a sacred trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Ta, ta, ta, ta! He took your fortune, and now you can get it back.” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” + </p> + <p> + Grandet took his knife to pry out some of the gold; to do this, he placed + the dressing-case on a chair. Eugenie sprang forward to recover it; but + her father, who had his eye on her and on the treasure too, pushed her + back so violently with a thrust of his arm that she fell upon her mother’s + bed. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, monsieur!” cried the mother, lifting herself up. + </p> + <p> + Grandet had opened his knife, and was about to apply it to the gold. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” cried Eugenie, falling on her knees and dragging herself close + to him with clasped hands, “father, in the name of all the saints and the + Virgin! in the name of Christ who died upon the cross! in the name of your + eternal salvation, father! for my life’s sake, father!—do not touch + that! It is neither yours nor mine. It is a trust placed in my hands by an + unhappy relation: I must give it back to him uninjured!” + </p> + <p> + “If it is a trust, why were you looking at it? To look at it is as bad as + touching it.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, don’t destroy it, or you will disgrace me! Father, do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, have pity!” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” cried Eugenie in so startling a voice that Nanon ran upstairs + terrified. Eugenie sprang upon a knife that was close at hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what now?” said Grandet coldly, with a callous smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are killing me!” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Father, if your knife so much as cuts a fragment of that gold, I will + stab myself with this one! You have already driven my mother to her death; + you will now kill your child! Do as you choose! Wound for wound!” + </p> + <p> + Grandet held his knife over the dressing-case and hesitated as he looked + at his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Are you capable of doing it, Eugenie?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “She’ll do it if she says so!” cried Nanon. “Be reasonable, monsieur, for + once in your life.” + </p> + <p> + The old man looked at the gold and then at his daughter alternately for an + instant. Madame Grandet fainted. + </p> + <p> + “There! don’t you see, monsieur, that madame is dying?” cried Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, my daughter, we won’t quarrel for a box! Here, take it!” he + cried hastily, flinging the case upon the bed. “Nanon, go and fetch + Monsieur Bergerin! Come, mother,” said he, kissing his wife’s hand, “it’s + all over! There! we’ve made up—haven’t we, little one? No more dry + bread; you shall have all you want—Ah, she opens her eyes! Well, + mother, little mother, come! See, I’m kissing Eugenie! She loves her + cousin, and she may marry him if she wants to; she may keep his case. But + don’t die, mother; live a long time yet, my poor wife! Come, try to move! + Listen! you shall have the finest altar that ever was made in Saumur.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how can you treat your wife and daughter so!” said Madame Grandet in + a feeble voice. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t do so again, never again,” cried her husband; “you shall see, my + poor wife!” He went to his inner room and returned with a handful of + louis, which he scattered on the bed. “Here, Eugenie! see, wife! all these + are for you,” he said, fingering the coins. “Come, be happy, wife! feel + better, get well; you sha’n’t want for anything, nor Eugenie either. + Here’s a hundred <i>louis d’or</i> for her. You won’t give these away, + will you, Eugenie, hein?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Grandet and her daughter looked at each other in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Take back your money, father; we ask for nothing but your affection.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, that’s right!” he said, pocketing the coins; “let’s be good + friends! We will all go down to dinner to-day, and we’ll play loto every + evening for two sous. You shall both be happy. Hey, wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I wish I could, if it would give you pleasure,” said the dying + woman; “but I cannot rise from my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor mother,” said Grandet, “you don’t know how I love you! and you too, + my daughter!” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “Oh, how good it is + to kiss a daughter when we have been angry with her! There, mother, don’t + you see it’s all over now? Go and put that away, Eugenie,” he added, + pointing to the case. “Go, don’t be afraid! I shall never speak of it + again, never!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Bergerin, the celebrated doctor of Saumur, presently arrived. + After an examination, he told Grandet positively that his wife was very + ill; but that perfect peace of mind, a generous diet, and great care might + prolong her life until the autumn. + </p> + <p> + “Will all that cost much?” said the old man. “Will she need medicines?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much medicine, but a great deal of care,” answered the doctor, who + could scarcely restrain a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Monsieur Bergerin,” said Grandet, “you are a man of honor, are not + you? I trust to you! Come and see my wife how and when you think + necessary. Save my good wife! I love her,—don’t you see?—though + I never talk about it; I keep things to myself. I’m full of trouble. + Troubles began when my brother died; I have to spend enormous sums on his + affairs in Paris. Why, I’m paying through my nose; there’s no end to it. + Adieu, monsieur! If you can save my wife, save her. I’ll spare no expense, + not even if it costs me a hundred or two hundred francs.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of Grandet’s fervent wishes for the health of his wife, whose + death threatened more than death to him; in spite of the consideration he + now showed on all occasions for the least wish of his astonished wife and + daughter; in spite of the tender care which Eugenie lavished upon her + mother,—Madame Grandet rapidly approached her end. Every day she + grew weaker and wasted visibly, as women of her age when attacked by + serious illness are wont to do. She was fragile as the foliage in autumn; + the radiance of heaven shone through her as the sun strikes athwart the + withering leaves and gilds them. It was a death worthy of her life,—a + Christian death; and is not that sublime? In the month of October, 1822, + her virtues, her angelic patience, her love for her daughter, seemed to + find special expression; and then she passed away without a murmur. Lamb + without spot, she went to heaven, regretting only the sweet companion of + her cold and dreary life, for whom her last glance seemed to prophesy a + destiny of sorrows. She shrank from leaving her ewe-lamb, white as + herself, alone in the midst of a selfish world that sought to strip her of + her fleece and grasp her treasures. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” she said as she expired, “there is no happiness except in + heaven; you will know it some day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII + </h2> + <p> + On the morrow of this death Eugenie felt a new motive for attachment to + the house in which she was born, where she had suffered so much, where her + mother had just died. She could not see the window and the chair on its + castors without weeping. She thought she had mistaken the heart of her old + father when she found herself the object of his tenderest cares. He came + in the morning and gave her his arm to take her to breakfast; he looked at + her for hours together with an eye that was almost kind; he brooded over + her as though she had been gold. The old man was so unlike himself, he + trembled so often before his daughter, that Nanon and the Cruchotines, who + witnessed his weakness, attributed it to his great age, and feared that + his faculties were giving away. But the day on which the family put on + their mourning, and after dinner, to which meal Maitre Cruchot (the only + person who knew his secret) had been invited, the conduct of the old miser + was explained. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” he said to Eugenie when the table had been cleared and + the doors carefully shut, “you are now your mother’s heiress, and we have + a few little matters to settle between us. Isn’t that so, Cruchot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary to talk of them to-day, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, little one; I can’t bear the uncertainty in which I’m placed. I + think you don’t want to give me pain?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! father—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then! let us settle it all to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it you wish me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “My little girl, it is not for me to say. Tell her, Cruchot.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, your father does not wish to divide the property, nor sell + the estate, nor pay enormous taxes on the ready money which he may + possess. Therefore, to avoid all this, he must be released from making the + inventory of his whole fortune, part of which you inherit from your + mother, and which is now undivided between you and your father—” + </p> + <p> + “Cruchot, are you quite sure of what you are saying before you tell it to + a mere child?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell it my own way, Grandet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, my friend. Neither you nor my daughter wish to rob me,—do + you, little one?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur Cruchot, what am I to do?” said Eugenie impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the notary, “it is necessary to sign this deed, by which you + renounce your rights to your mother’s estate and leave your father the use + and disposition, during his lifetime, of all the property undivided + between you, of which he guarantees you the capital.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand a word of what you are saying,” returned Eugenie; + “give me the deed, and show me where I am to sign it.” + </p> + <p> + Pere Grandet looked alternately at the deed and at his daughter, at his + daughter and at the deed, undergoing as he did so such violent emotion + that he wiped the sweat from his brow. + </p> + <p> + “My little girl,” he said, “if, instead of signing this deed, which will + cost a great deal to record, you would simply agree to renounce your + rights as heir to your poor dear, deceased mother’s property, and would + trust to me for the future, I should like it better. In that case I will + pay you monthly the good round sum of a hundred francs. See, now, you + could pay for as many masses as you want for anybody—Hein! a hundred + francs a month—in <i>livres</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I will do all you wish, father.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” said the notary, “it is my duty to point out to you that + you are despoiling yourself without guarantee—” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! what is all that to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Cruchot! It’s settled, all settled,” cried Grandet, + taking his daughter’s hand and striking it with his own. “Eugenie, you + won’t go back on your word?—you are an honest girl, hein?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! father!—” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her effusively, and pressed her in his arms till he almost + choked her. + </p> + <p> + “Go, my good child, you restore your father’s life; but you only return to + him that which he gave you: we are quits. This is how business should be + done. Life is a business. I bless you! you are a virtuous girl, and you + love your father. Do just what you like in future. To-morrow, Cruchot,” he + added, looking at the horrified notary, “you will see about preparing the + deed of relinquishment, and then enter it on the records of the court.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Eugenie signed the papers by which she herself completed + her spoliation. At the end of the first year, however, in spite of his + bargain, the old man had not given his daughter one sou of the hundred + francs he had so solemnly pledged to her. When Eugenie pleasantly reminded + him of this, he could not help coloring, and went hastily to his secret + hiding-place, from whence he brought down about a third of the jewels he + had taken from his nephew, and gave them to her. + </p> + <p> + “There, little one,” he said in a sarcastic tone, “do you want those for + your twelve hundred francs?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! father, truly? will you really give them to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give you as many more next year,” he said, throwing them into her + apron. “So before long you’ll get all his gewgaws,” he added, rubbing his + hands, delighted to be able to speculate on his daughter’s feelings. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, the old man, though still robust, felt the importance of + initiating his daughter into the secrets of his thrift and its management. + For two consecutive years he made her order the household meals in his + presence and receive the rents, and he taught her slowly and successively + the names and remunerative capacity of his vineyards and his farms. About + the third year he had so thoroughly accustomed her to his avaricious + methods that they had turned into the settled habits of her own life, and + he was able to leave the household keys in her charge without anxiety, and + to install her as mistress of the house. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Five years passed away without a single event to relieve the monotonous + existence of Eugenie and her father. The same actions were performed daily + with the automatic regularity of clockwork. The deep sadness of + Mademoiselle Grandet was known to every one; but if others surmised the + cause, she herself never uttered a word that justified the suspicions + which all Saumur entertained about the state of the rich heiress’s heart. + Her only society was made up of the three Cruchots and a few of their + particular friends whom they had, little by little, introduced into the + Grandet household. They had taught her to play whist, and they came every + night for their game. During the year 1827 her father, feeling the weight + of his infirmities, was obliged to initiate her still further into the + secrets of his landed property, and told her that in case of difficulty + she was to have recourse to Maitre Cruchot, whose integrity was well known + to him. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of this year the old man, then eighty-two, was seized by + paralysis, which made rapid progress. Dr. Bergerin gave him up. Eugenie, + feeling that she was about to be left alone in the world, came, as it + were, nearer to her father, and clasped more tightly this last living link + of affection. To her mind, as in that of all loving women, love was the + whole of life. Charles was not there, and she devoted all her care and + attention to the old father, whose faculties had begun to weaken, though + his avarice remained instinctively acute. The death of this man offered no + contrast to his life. In the morning he made them roll him to a spot + between the chimney of his chamber and the door of the secret room, which + was filled, no doubt, with gold. He asked for an explanation of every + noise he heard, even the slightest; to the great astonishment of the + notary, he even heard the watch-dog yawning in the court-yard. He woke up + from his apparent stupor at the day and hour when the rents were due, or + when accounts had to be settled with his vine-dressers, and receipts + given. At such times he worked his chair forward on its castors until he + faced the door of the inner room. He made his daughter open it, and + watched while she placed the bags of money one upon another in his secret + receptacles and relocked the door. Then she returned silently to her seat, + after giving him the key, which he replaced in his waistcoat pocket and + fingered from time to time. His old friend the notary, feeling sure that + the rich heiress would inevitably marry his nephew the president, if + Charles Grandet did not return, redoubled all his attentions; he came + every day to take Grandet’s orders, went on his errands to Froidfond, to + the farms and the fields and the vineyards, sold the vintages, and turned + everything into gold and silver, which found their way in sacks to the + secret hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + At length the last struggle came, in which the strong frame of the old man + slowly yielded to destruction. He was determined to sit at the + chimney-corner facing the door of the secret room. He drew off and rolled + up all the coverings which were laid over him, saying to Nanon, “Put them + away, lock them up, for fear they should be stolen.” + </p> + <p> + So long as he could open his eyes, in which his whole being had now taken + refuge, he turned them to the door behind which lay his treasures, saying + to his daughter, “Are they there? are they there?” in a tone of voice + which revealed a sort of panic fear. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my father,” she would answer. + </p> + <p> + “Take care of the gold—put gold before me.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie would then spread coins on a table before him, and he would sit + for hours together with his eyes fixed upon them, like a child who, at the + moment it first begins to see, gazes in stupid contemplation at the same + object, and like the child, a distressful smile would flicker upon his + face. + </p> + <p> + “It warms me!” he would sometimes say, as an expression of beatitude stole + across his features. + </p> + <p> + When the cure of the parish came to administer the last sacraments, the + old man’s eyes, sightless, apparently, for some hours, kindled at the + sight of the cross, the candlesticks, and the holy-water vessel of silver; + he gazed at them fixedly, and his wen moved for the last time. When the + priest put the crucifix of silver-gilt to his lips, that he might kiss the + Christ, he made a frightful gesture, as if to seize it; and that last + effort cost him his life. He called Eugenie, whom he did not see, though + she was kneeling beside him bathing with tears his stiffening hand, which + was already cold. + </p> + <p> + “My father, bless me!” she entreated. + </p> + <p> + “Take care of it all. You will render me an account yonder!” he said, + proving by these last words that Christianity must always be the religion + of misers. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Eugenie Grandet was now alone in the world in that gray house, with none + but Nanon to whom she could turn with the certainty of being heard and + understood,—Nanon the sole being who loved her for herself and with + whom she could speak of her sorrows. La Grande Nanon was a providence for + Eugenie. She was not a servant, but a humble friend. After her father’s + death Eugenie learned from Maitre Cruchot that she possessed an income of + three hundred thousand francs from landed and personal property in the + arrondissement of Saumur; also six millions invested at three per cent in + the Funds (bought at sixty, and now worth seventy-six francs); also two + millions in gold coin, and a hundred thousand francs in silver + crown-pieces, besides all the interest which was still to be collected. + The sum total of her property reached seventeen millions. + </p> + <p> + “Where is my cousin?” was her one thought. + </p> + <p> + The day on which Maitre Cruchot handed in to his client a clear and exact + schedule of the whole inheritance, Eugenie remained alone with Nanon, + sitting beside the fireplace in the vacant hall, where all was now a + memory, from the chair on castors which her mother had sat in, to the + glass from which her cousin drank. + </p> + <p> + “Nanon, we are alone—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle; and if I knew where he was, the darling, I’d go on + foot to find him.” + </p> + <p> + “The ocean is between us,” she said. + </p> + <p> + While the poor heiress wept in company of an old servant, in that cold + dark house, which was to her the universe, the whole province rang, from + Nantes to Orleans, with the seventeen millions of Mademoiselle Grandet. + Among her first acts she had settled an annuity of twelve hundred francs + on Nanon, who, already possessed of six hundred more, became a rich and + enviable match. In less than a month that good soul passed from single to + wedded life under the protection of Antoine Cornoiller, who was appointed + keeper of all Mademoiselle Grandet’s estates. Madame Cornoiller possessed + one striking advantage over her contemporaries. Although she was + fifty-nine years of age, she did not look more than forty. Her strong + features had resisted the ravages of time. Thanks to the healthy customs + of her semi-conventual life, she laughed at old age from the + vantage-ground of a rosy skin and an iron constitution. Perhaps she never + looked as well in her life as she did on her marriage-day. She had all the + benefits of her ugliness, and was big and fat and strong, with a look of + happiness on her indestructible features which made a good many people + envy Cornoiller. + </p> + <p> + “Fast colors!” said the draper. + </p> + <p> + “Quite likely to have children,” said the salt merchant. “She’s pickled in + brine, saving your presence.” + </p> + <p> + “She is rich, and that fellow Cornoiller has done a good thing for + himself,” said a third man. + </p> + <p> + When she came forth from the old house on her way to the parish church, + Nanon, who was loved by all the neighborhood, received many compliments as + she walked down the tortuous street. Eugenie had given her three dozen + silver forks and spoons as a wedding present. Cornoiller, amazed at such + magnificence, spoke of his mistress with tears in his eyes; he would + willingly have been hacked in pieces in her behalf. Madame Cornoiller, + appointed housekeeper to Mademoiselle Grandet, got as much happiness out + of her new position as she did from the possession of a husband. She took + charge of the weekly accounts; she locked up the provisions and gave them + out daily, after the manner of her defunct master; she ruled over two + servants,—a cook, and a maid whose business it was to mend the + house-linen and make mademoiselle’s dresses. Cornoiller combined the + functions of keeper and bailiff. It is unnecessary to say that the + women-servants selected by Nanon were “perfect treasures.” Mademoiselle + Grandet thus had four servants, whose devotion was unbounded. The farmers + perceived no change after Monsieur Grandet’s death; the usages and customs + he had sternly established were scrupulously carried out by Monsieur and + Madame Cornoiller. + </p> + <p> + At thirty years of age Eugenie knew none of the joys of life. Her pale, + sad childhood had glided on beside a mother whose heart, always + misunderstood and wounded, had known only suffering. Leaving this life + joyfully, the mother pitied the daughter because she still must live; and + she left in her child’s soul some fugitive remorse and many lasting + regrets. Eugenie’s first and only love was a wellspring of sadness within + her. Meeting her lover for a few brief days, she had given him her heart + between two kisses furtively exchanged; then he had left her, and a whole + world lay between them. This love, cursed by her father, had cost the life + of her mother and brought her only sorrow, mingled with a few frail hopes. + Thus her upward spring towards happiness had wasted her strength and given + her nothing in exchange for it. In the life of the soul, as in the + physical life, there is an inspiration and a respiration; the soul needs + to absorb the sentiments of another soul and assimilate them, that it may + render them back enriched. Were it not for this glorious human phenomenon, + there would be no life for the heart; air would be wanting; it would + suffer, and then perish. Eugenie had begun to suffer. For her, wealth was + neither a power nor a consolation; she could not live except through love, + through religion, through faith in the future. Love explained to her the + mysteries of eternity. Her heart and the Gospel taught her to know two + worlds; she bathed, night and day, in the depths of two infinite thoughts, + which for her may have had but one meaning. She drew back within herself, + loving, and believing herself beloved. For seven years her passion had + invaded everything. Her treasuries were not the millions whose revenues + were rolling up; they were Charles’s dressing-case, the portraits hanging + above her bed, the jewels recovered from her father and proudly spread + upon a bed of wool in a drawer of the oaken cabinet, the thimble of her + aunt, used for a while by her mother, which she wore religiously as she + worked at a piece of embroidery,—a Penelope’s web, begun for the + sole purpose of putting upon her finger that gold so rich in memories. + </p> + <p> + It seemed unlikely that Mademoiselle Grandet would marry during the period + of her mourning. Her genuine piety was well known. Consequently the + Cruchots, whose policy was sagely guided by the old abbe, contented + themselves for the time being with surrounding the great heiress and + paying her the most affectionate attentions. Every evening the hall was + filled with a party of devoted Cruchotines, who sang the praises of its + mistress in every key. She had her doctor in ordinary, her grand almoner, + her chamberlain, her first lady of honor, her prime minister; above all, + her chancellor, a chancellor who would fain have said much to her. If the + heiress had wished for a train-bearer, one would instantly have been + found. She was a queen, obsequiously flattered. Flattery never emanates + from noble souls; it is the gift of little minds, who thus still further + belittle themselves to worm their way into the vital being of the persons + around whom they crawl. Flattery means self-interest. So the people who, + night after night, assembled in Mademoiselle Grandet’s house (they called + her Mademoiselle de Froidfond) outdid each other in expressions of + admiration. This concert of praise, never before bestowed upon Eugenie, + made her blush under its novelty; but insensibly her ear became habituated + to the sound, and however coarse the compliments might be, she soon was so + accustomed to hear her beauty lauded that if any new-comer had seemed to + think her plain, she would have felt the reproach far more than she might + have done eight years earlier. She ended at last by loving the incense, + which she secretly laid at the feet of her idol. By degrees she grew + accustomed to be treated as a sovereign and to see her court pressing + around her every evening. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Bonfons was the hero of the little circle, where his wit, his + person, his education, his amiability, were perpetually praised. One or + another would remark that in seven years he had largely increased his + fortune, that Bonfons brought in at least ten thousand francs a year, and + was surrounded, like the other possessions of the Cruchots, by the vast + domains of the heiress. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, mademoiselle,” said an habitual visitor, “that the Cruchots + have an income of forty thousand francs among them!” + </p> + <p> + “And then, their savings!” exclaimed an elderly female Cruchotine, + Mademoiselle de Gribeaucourt. + </p> + <p> + “A gentleman from Paris has lately offered Monsieur Cruchot two hundred + thousand francs for his practice,” said another. “He will sell it if he is + appointed <i>juge de paix</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “He wants to succeed Monsieur de Bonfons as president of the Civil courts, + and is taking measures,” replied Madame d’Orsonval. “Monsieur le president + will certainly be made councillor.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a very distinguished man,” said another,—“don’t you + think so, mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Bonfons endeavored to put himself in keeping with the role he + sought to play. In spite of his forty years, in spite of his dusky and + crabbed features, withered like most judicial faces, he dressed in + youthful fashions, toyed with a bamboo cane, never took snuff in + Mademoiselle de Froidfond’s house, and came in a white cravat and a shirt + whose pleated frill gave him a family resemblance to the race of turkeys. + He addressed the beautiful heiress familiarly, and spoke of her as “Our + dear Eugenie.” In short, except for the number of visitors, the change + from loto to whist, and the disappearance of Monsieur and Madame Grandet, + the scene was about the same as the one with which this history opened. + The pack were still pursuing Eugenie and her millions; but the hounds, + more in number, lay better on the scent, and beset the prey more unitedly. + If Charles could have dropped from the Indian Isles, he would have found + the same people and the same interests. Madame des Grassins, to whom + Eugenie was full of kindness and courtesy, still persisted in tormenting + the Cruchots. Eugenie, as in former days, was the central figure of the + picture; and Charles, as heretofore, would still have been the sovereign + of all. Yet there had been some progress. The flowers which the president + formerly presented to Eugenie on her birthdays and fete-days had now + become a daily institution. Every evening he brought the rich heiress a + huge and magnificent bouquet, which Madame Cornoiller placed conspicuously + in a vase, and secretly threw into a corner of the court-yard when the + visitors had departed. + </p> + <p> + Early in the spring, Madame des Grassins attempted to trouble the peace of + the Cruchotines by talking to Eugenie of the Marquis de Froidfond, whose + ancient and ruined family might be restored if the heiress would give him + back his estates through marriage. Madame des Grassins rang the changes on + the peerage and the title of marquise, until, mistaking Eugenie’s + disdainful smile for acquiescence, she went about proclaiming that the + marriage with “Monsieur Cruchot” was not nearly as certain as people + thought. + </p> + <p> + “Though Monsieur de Froidfond is fifty,” she said, “he does not look older + than Monsieur Cruchot. He is a widower, and he has children, that’s true. + But then he is a marquis; he will be peer of France; and in times like + these where you will find a better match? I know it for a fact that Pere + Grandet, when he put all his money into Froidfond, intended to graft + himself upon that stock; he often told me so. He was a deep one, that old + man!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Nanon,” said Eugenie, one night as she was going to bed, “how is it + that in seven years he has never once written to me?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII + </h2> + <p> + While these events were happening in Saumur, Charles was making his + fortune in the Indies. His commercial outfit had sold well. He began by + realizing a sum of six thousand dollars. Crossing the line had brushed a + good many cobwebs out of his brain; he perceived that the best means of + attaining fortune in tropical regions, as well as in Europe, was to buy + and sell men. He went to the coast of Africa and bought Negroes, combining + his traffic in human flesh with that of other merchandise equally + advantageous to his interests. He carried into this business an activity + which left him not a moment of leisure. He was governed by the desire of + reappearing in Paris with all the prestige of a large fortune, and by the + hope of regaining a position even more brilliant than the one from which + he had fallen. + </p> + <p> + By dint of jostling with men, travelling through many lands, and studying + a variety of conflicting customs, his ideas had been modified and had + become sceptical. He ceased to have fixed principles of right and wrong, + for he saw what was called a crime in one country lauded as a virtue in + another. In the perpetual struggle of selfish interests his heart grew + cold, then contracted, and then dried up. The blood of the Grandets did + not fail of its destiny; Charles became hard, and eager for prey. He sold + Chinamen, Negroes, birds’ nests, children, artists; he practised usury on + a large scale; the habit of defrauding custom-houses soon made him less + scrupulous about the rights of his fellow men. He went to the Island of + St. Thomas and bought, for a mere song, merchandise that had been captured + by pirates, and took it to ports where he could sell it at a good price. + If the pure and noble face of Eugenie went with him on his first voyage, + like that image of the Virgin which Spanish mariners fastened to their + masts, if he attributed his first success to the magic influence of the + prayers and intercessions of his gentle love, later on women of other + kinds,—blacks, mulattoes, whites, and Indian dancing-girls,—orgies + and adventures in many lands, completely effaced all recollection of his + cousin, of Saumur, of the house, the bench, the kiss snatched in the dark + passage. He remembered only the little garden shut in with crumbling + walls, for it was there he learned the fate that had overtaken him; but he + rejected all connection with his family. His uncle was an old dog who had + filched his jewels; Eugenie had no place in his heart nor in his thoughts, + though she did have a place in his accounts as a creditor for the sum of + six thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + Such conduct and such ideas explain Charles Grandet’s silence. In the + Indies, at St. Thomas, on the coast of Africa, at Lisbon, and in the + United States the adventurer had taken the pseudonym of Shepherd, that he + might not compromise his own name. Charles Shepherd could safely be + indefatigable, bold, grasping, and greedy of gain, like a man who resolves + to snatch his fortune <i>quibus cumque viis</i>, and makes haste to have + done with villany, that he may spend the rest of his life as an honest + man. + </p> + <p> + With such methods, prosperity was rapid and brilliant; and in 1827 Charles + Grandet returned to Bordeaux on the “Marie Caroline,” a fine brig + belonging to a royalist house of business. He brought with him nineteen + hundred thousand francs worth of gold-dust, from which he expected to + derive seven or eight per cent more at the Paris mint. On the brig he met + a gentleman-in-ordinary to His Majesty Charles X., Monsieur d’Aubrion, a + worthy old man who had committed the folly of marrying a woman of fashion + with a fortune derived from the West India Islands. To meet the costs of + Madame d’Aubrion’s extravagance, he had gone out to the Indies to sell the + property, and was now returning with his family to France. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur and Madame d’Aubrion, of the house of d’Aubrion de Buch, a family + of southern France, whose last <i>captal</i>, or chief, died before 1789, + were now reduced to an income of about twenty thousand francs, and they + possessed an ugly daughter whom the mother was resolved to marry without a + <i>dot</i>,—the family fortune being scarcely sufficient for the + demands of her own life in Paris. This was an enterprise whose success + might have seemed problematical to most men of the world, in spite of the + cleverness with which such men credit a fashionable woman; in fact, Madame + d’Aubrion herself, when she looked at her daughter, almost despaired of + getting rid of her to any one, even to a man craving connection with + nobility. Mademoiselle d’Aubrion was a long, spare, spindling demoiselle, + like her namesake the insect; her mouth was disdainful; over it hung a + nose that was too long, thick at the end, sallow in its normal condition, + but very red after a meal,—a sort of vegetable phenomenon which is + particularly disagreeable when it appears in the middle of a pale, dull, + and uninteresting face. In one sense she was all that a worldly mother, + thirty-eight years of age and still a beauty with claims to admiration, + could have wished. However, to counterbalance her personal defects, the + marquise gave her daughter a distinguished air, subjected her to hygienic + treatment which provisionally kept her nose at a reasonable flesh-tint, + taught her the art of dressing well, endowed her with charming manners, + showed her the trick of melancholy glances which interest a man and make + him believe that he has found a long-sought angel, taught her the + manoeuvre of the foot,—letting it peep beneath the petticoat, to + show its tiny size, at the moment when the nose became aggressively red; + in short, Madame d’Aubrion had cleverly made the very best of her + offspring. By means of full sleeves, deceptive pads, puffed dresses amply + trimmed, and high-pressure corsets, she had obtained such curious feminine + developments that she ought, for the instruction of mothers, to have + exhibited them in a museum. + </p> + <p> + Charles became very intimate with Madame d’Aubrion precisely because she + was desirous of becoming intimate with him. Persons who were on board the + brig declared that the handsome Madame d’Aubrion neglected no means of + capturing so rich a son-in-law. On landing at Bordeaux in June, 1827, + Monsieur, Madame, Mademoiselle d’Aubrion, and Charles lodged at the same + hotel and started together for Paris. The hotel d’Aubrion was hampered + with mortgages; Charles was destined to free it. The mother told him how + delighted she would be to give up the ground-floor to a son-in-law. Not + sharing Monsieur d’Aubrion’s prejudices on the score of nobility, she + promised Charles Grandet to obtain a royal ordinance from Charles X. which + would authorize him, Grandet, to take the name and arms of d’Aubrion and + to succeed, by purchasing the entailed estate for thirty-six thousand + francs a year, to the titles of Captal de Buch and Marquis d’Aubrion. By + thus uniting their fortunes, living on good terms, and profiting by + sinecures, the two families might occupy the hotel d’Aubrion with an + income of over a hundred thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “And when a man has a hundred thousand francs a year, a name, a family, + and a position at court,—for I will get you appointed as + gentleman-of-the-bedchamber,—he can do what he likes,” she said to + Charles. “You can then become anything you choose,—master of the + rolls in the council of State, prefect, secretary to an embassy, the + ambassador himself, if you like. Charles X. is fond of d’Aubrion; they + have known each other from childhood.” + </p> + <p> + Intoxicated with ambition, Charles toyed with the hopes thus cleverly + presented to him in the guise of confidences poured from heart to heart. + Believing his father’s affairs to have been settled by his uncle, he + imagined himself suddenly anchored in the Faubourg Saint-Germain,—that + social object of all desire, where, under shelter of Mademoiselle + Mathilde’s purple nose, he was to reappear as the Comte d’Aubrion, very + much as the Dreux reappeared in Breze. Dazzled by the prosperity of the + Restoration, which was tottering when he left France, fascinated by the + splendor of aristocratic ideas, his intoxication, which began on the brig, + increased after he reached Paris, and he finally determined to take the + course and reach the high position which the selfish hopes of his would-be + mother-in-law pointed out to him. His cousin counted for no more than a + speck in this brilliant perspective; but he went to see Annette. True + woman of the world, Annette advised her old friend to make the marriage, + and promised him her support in all his ambitious projects. In her heart + she was enchanted to fasten an ugly and uninteresting girl on Charles, + whose life in the West Indies had rendered him very attractive. His + complexion had bronzed, his manners had grown decided and bold, like those + of a man accustomed to make sharp decisions, to rule, and to succeed. + Charles breathed more at his ease in Paris, conscious that he now had a + part to play. + </p> + <p> + Des Grassins, hearing of his return, of his approaching marriage and his + large fortune, came to see him, and inquired about the three hundred + thousand francs still required to settle his father’s debts. He found + Grandet in conference with a goldsmith, from whom he had ordered jewels + for Mademoiselle d’Aubrion’s <i>corbeille</i>, and who was then submitting + the designs. Charles had brought back magnificent diamonds, and the value + of their setting, together with the plate and jewelry of the new + establishment, amounted to more than two hundred thousand francs. He + received des Grassins, whom he did not recognize, with the impertinence of + a young man of fashion conscious of having killed four men in as many + duels in the Indies. Monsieur des Grassins had already called several + times. Charles listened to him coldly, and then replied, without fully + understanding what had been said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “My father’s affairs are not mine. I am much obliged, monsieur, for the + trouble you have been good enough to take,—by which, however, I + really cannot profit. I have not earned two millions by the sweat of my + brow to fling them at the head of my father’s creditors.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose that your father’s estate were within a few days to be + declared bankrupt?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, in a few days I shall be called the Comte d’Aubrion; you will + understand, therefore, that what you threaten is of no consequence to me. + Besides, you know as well as I do that when a man has an income of a + hundred thousand francs his father has <i>never failed</i>.” So saying, he + politely edged Monsieur des Grassins to the door. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + At the beginning of August in the same year, Eugenie was sitting on the + little wooden bench where her cousin had sworn to love her eternally, and + where she usually breakfasted if the weather were fine. The poor girl was + happy, for the moment, in the fresh and joyous summer air, letting her + memory recall the great and the little events of her love and the + catastrophes which had followed it. The sun had just reached the angle of + the ruined wall, so full of chinks, which no one, through a caprice of the + mistress, was allowed to touch, though Cornoiller often remarked to his + wife that “it would fall and crush somebody one of these days.” At this + moment the postman knocked, and gave a letter to Madame Cornoiller, who + ran into the garden, crying out: + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, a letter!” She gave it to her mistress, adding, “Is it the + one you expected?” + </p> + <p> + The words rang as loudly in the heart of Eugenie as they echoed in sound + from wall to wall of the court and garden. + </p> + <p> + “Paris—from him—he has returned!” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie turned pale and held the letter for a moment. She trembled so + violently that she could not break the seal. La Grande Nanon stood before + her, both hands on her hips, her joy puffing as it were like smoke through + the cracks of her brown face. + </p> + <p> + “Read it, mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Nanon, why did he return to Paris? He went from Saumur.” + </p> + <p> + “Read it, and you’ll find out.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie opened the letter with trembling fingers. A cheque on the house of + “Madame des Grassins and Coret, of Saumur,” fluttered down. Nanon picked + it up. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Cousin,— +</pre> + <p> + “No longer ‘Eugenie,’” she thought, and her heart quailed. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + You— +</pre> + <p> + “He once said ‘thou.’” She folded her arms and dared not read another + word; great tears gathered in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” asked Nanon. + </p> + <p> + “If he were, he could not write,” said Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + She then read the whole letter, which was as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Cousin,—You will, I am sure, hear with pleasure of the + success of my enterprise. You brought me luck; I have come back + rich, and I have followed the advice of my uncle, whose death, + together with that of my aunt, I have just learned from Monsieur + des Grassins. The death of parents is in the course of nature, and + we must succeed them. I trust you are by this time consoled. + Nothing can resist time, as I am well aware. Yes, my dear cousin, + the day of illusions is, unfortunately, gone for me. How could it + be otherwise? Travelling through many lands, I have reflected upon + life. I was a child when I went away,—I have come back a man. + To-day, I think of many I did not dream of then. You are free, my + dear cousin, and I am free still. Nothing apparently hinders the + realization of our early hopes; but my nature is too loyal to hide + from you the situation in which I find myself. I have not + forgotten our relations; I have always remembered, throughout my + long wanderings, the little wooden seat— +</pre> + <p> + Eugenie rose as if she were sitting on live coals, and went away and sat + down on the stone steps of the court. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + —the little wooden seat where we vowed to love each other + forever, the passage, the gray hall, my attic chamber, and the + night when, by your delicate kindness, you made my future easier + to me. Yes, these recollections sustained my courage; I said in my + heart that you were thinking of me at the hour we had agreed upon. + Have you always looked at the clouds at nine o’clock? Yes, I am + sure of it. I cannot betray so true a friendship,—no, I must not + deceive you. An alliance has been proposed to me which satisfies + all my ideas of matrimony. Love in marriage is a delusion. My + present experience warns me that in marrying we are bound to obey + all social laws and meet the conventional demands of the world. + Now, between you and me there are differences which might affect + your future, my dear cousin, even more than they would mine. I + will not here speak of your customs and inclinations, your + education, nor yet of your habits, none of which are in keeping + with Parisian life, or with the future which I have marked out for + myself. My intention is to keep my household on a stately footing, + to receive much company,—in short, to live in the world; and I + think I remember that you love a quiet and tranquil life. I will + be frank, and make you the judge of my situation; you have the + right to understand it and to judge it. + + I possess at the present moment an income of eighty thousand + francs. This fortune enables me to marry into the family of + Aubrion, whose heiress, a young girl nineteen years of age, brings + me a title, a place of gentleman-of-the-bed-chamber to His + Majesty, and a very brilliant position. I will admit to you, my + dear cousin, that I do not love Mademoiselle d’Aubrion; but in + marrying her I secure to my children a social rank whose + advantages will one day be incalculable: monarchical principles + are daily coming more and more into favor. Thus in course of time + my son, when he becomes Marquis d’Aubrion, having, as he then will + have, an entailed estate with a rental of forty thousand francs a + year, can obtain any position in the State which he may think + proper to select. We owe ourselves to our children. + + You see, my cousin, with what good faith I lay the state of my + heart, my hopes, and my fortune before you. Possibly, after seven + years’ separation, you have yourself forgotten our youthful loves; + but I have never forgotten either your kindness or my own words. I + remember all, even words that were lightly uttered,—words by + which a man less conscientious than I, with a heart less youthful + and less upright, would scarcely feel himself bound. In telling + you that the marriage I propose to make is solely one of + convenience, that I still remember our childish love, am I not + putting myself entirely in your hands and making you the mistress + of my fate? am I not telling you that if I must renounce my social + ambitions, I shall willingly content myself with the pure and + simple happiness of which you have shown me so sweet an image? +</pre> + <p> + “Tan, ta, ta—tan, ta, ti,” sang Charles Grandet to the air of <i>Non + piu andrai</i>, as he signed himself,— + </p> + <p> + Your devoted cousin, Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder! that’s doing it handsomely!” he said, as he looked about him for + the cheque; having found it, he added the words:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + P.S.—I enclose a cheque on the des Grassins bank for eight + thousand francs to your order, payable in gold, which includes the + capital and interest of the sum you were kind enough to lend me. I + am expecting a case from Bordeaux which contains a few things + which you must allow me to offer you as a mark of my unceasing + gratitude. You can send my dressing-case by the diligence to the + hotel d’Aubrion, rue Hillerin-Bertin. +</pre> + <p> + “By the diligence!” said Eugenie. “A thing for which I would have laid + down my life!” + </p> + <p> + Terrible and utter disaster! The ship went down, leaving not a spar, not a + plank, on a vast ocean of hope! Some women when they see themselves + abandoned will try to tear their lover from the arms of a rival, they will + kill her, and rush to the ends of the earth,—to the scaffold, to + their tomb. That, no doubt, is fine; the motive of the crime is a great + passion, which awes even human justice. Other women bow their heads and + suffer in silence; they go their way dying, resigned, weeping, forgiving, + praying, and recollecting, till they draw their last breath. This is love,—true + love, the love of angels, the proud love which lives upon its anguish and + dies of it. Such was Eugenie’s love after she had read that dreadful + letter. She raised her eyes to heaven, thinking of the last words uttered + by her dying mother, who, with the prescience of death, had looked into + the future with clear and penetrating eyes: Eugenie, remembering that + prophetic death, that prophetic life, measured with one glance her own + destiny. Nothing was left for her; she could only unfold her wings, + stretch upward to the skies, and live in prayer until the day of her + deliverance. + </p> + <p> + “My mother was right,” she said, weeping. “Suffer—and die!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV + </h2> + <p> + Eugenie came slowly back from the garden to the house, and avoided + passing, as was her custom, through the corridor. But the memory of her + cousin was in the gray old hall and on the chimney-piece, where stood a + certain saucer and the old Sevres sugar-bowl which she used every morning + at her breakfast. + </p> + <p> + This day was destined to be solemn throughout and full of events. Nanon + announced the cure of the parish church. He was related to the Cruchots, + and therefore in the interests of Monsieur de Bonfons. For some time past + the old abbe had urged him to speak to Mademoiselle Grandet, from a purely + religious point of view, about the duty of marriage for a woman in her + position. When she saw her pastor, Eugenie supposed he had come for the + thousand francs which she gave monthly to the poor, and she told Nanon to + go and fetch them; but the cure only smiled. + </p> + <p> + “To-day, mademoiselle,” he said, “I have come to speak to you about a poor + girl in whom the whole town of Saumur takes an interest, who, through lack + of charity to herself, neglects her Christian duties.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le cure, you have come to me at a moment when I cannot think of + my neighbor, I am filled with thoughts of myself. I am very unhappy; my + only refuge is in the Church; her bosom is large enough to hold all human + woe, her love so full that we may draw from its depths and never drain it + dry.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, in speaking of this young girl we shall speak of you. + Listen! If you wish to insure your salvation you have only two paths to + take,—either leave the world or obey its laws. Obey either your + earthly destiny or your heavenly destiny.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! your voice speaks to me when I need to hear a voice. Yes, God has + sent you to me; I will bid farewell to the world and live for God alone, + in silence and seclusion.” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, you must think long before you take so violent a step. + Marriage is life, the veil is death.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, death,—a quick death!” she said, with dreadful eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Death? but you have great obligations to fulfil to society, mademoiselle. + Are you not the mother of the poor, to whom you give clothes and wood in + winter and work in summer? Your great fortune is a loan which you must + return, and you have sacredly accepted it as such. To bury yourself in a + convent would be selfishness; to remain an old maid is to fail in duty. In + the first place, can you manage your vast property alone? May you not lose + it? You will have law-suits, you will find yourself surrounded by + inextricable difficulties. Believe your pastor: a husband is useful; you + are bound to preserve what God has bestowed upon you. I speak to you as a + precious lamb of my flock. You love God too truly not to find your + salvation in the midst of his world, of which you are noble ornament and + to which you owe your example.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Madame des Grassins was announced. She came incited by + vengeance and the sense of a great despair. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” she said—“Ah! here is monsieur le cure; I am silent. + I came to speak to you on business; but I see that you are conferring with—” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said the cure, “I leave the field to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! monsieur le cure,” said Eugenie, “come back later; your support is + very necessary to me just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, indeed, my poor child!” said Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked Eugenie and the cure together. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I know about your cousin’s return, and his marriage with + Mademoiselle d’Aubrion? A woman doesn’t carry her wits in her pocket.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie blushed, and remained silent for a moment. From this day forth she + assumed the impassible countenance for which her father had been so + remarkable. + </p> + <p> + “Well, madame,” she presently said, ironically, “no doubt I carry my wits + in my pocket, for I do not understand you. Speak, say what you mean, + before monsieur le cure; you know he is my director.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, mademoiselle, here is what des Grassins writes me. Read it.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenie read the following letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Wife,—Charles Grandet has returned from the Indies and + has been in Paris about a month— +</pre> + <p> + “A month!” thought Eugenie, her hand falling to her side. After a pause + she resumed the letter,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I had to dance attendance before I was allowed to see the future + Vicomte d’Aubrion. Though all Paris is talking of his marriage and + the banns are published— +</pre> + <p> + “He wrote to me after that!” thought Eugenie. She did not conclude the + thought; she did not cry out, as a Parisian woman would have done, “The + villain!” but though she said it not, contempt was none the less present + in her mind. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The marriage, however, will not come off. The Marquis d’Aubrion + will never give his daughter to the son of a bankrupt. I went to + tell Grandet of the steps his uncle and I took in his father’s + business, and the clever manoeuvres by which we had managed to + keep the creditor’s quiet until the present time. The insolent + fellow had the face to say to me—to me, who for five years have + devoted myself night and day to his interests and his honor!—that + <i>his father’s affairs were not his</i>! A solicitor would have had + the right to demand fees amounting to thirty or forty thousand + francs, one per cent on the total of the debts. But patience! + there are twelve hundred thousand francs legitimately owing to the + creditors, and I shall at once declare his father a bankrupt. + + I went into this business on the word of that old crocodile + Grandet, and I have made promises in the name of his family. If + Monsieur de vicomte d’Aubrion does not care for his honor, I care + for mine. I shall explain my position to the creditors. Still, I + have too much respect for Mademoiselle Eugenie (to whom under + happier circumstances we once hoped to be allied) to act in this + matter before you have spoken to her about it— +</pre> + <p> + There Eugenie paused, and coldly returned the letter without finishing it. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” she said to Madame des Grassins. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you have the voice and manner of your deceased father,” Madame des + Grassins replied. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, you have eight thousand francs to pay us,” said Nanon, producing + Charles’s cheque. + </p> + <p> + “That’s true; have the kindness to come with me now, Madame Cornoiller.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le cure,” said Eugenie with a noble composure, inspired by the + thought she was about to express, “would it be a sin to remain a virgin + after marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “That is a case of conscience whose solution is not within my knowledge. + If you wish to know what the celebrated Sanchez says of it in his treatise + ‘De Matrimonio,’ I shall be able to tell you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The cure went away; Mademoiselle Grandet went up to her father’s secret + room and spent the day there alone, without coming down to dinner, in + spite of Nanon’s entreaties. She appeared in the evening at the hour when + the usual company began to arrive. Never was the old hall so full as on + this occasion. The news of Charles’s return and his foolish treachery had + spread through the whole town. But however watchful the curiosity of the + visitors might be, it was left unsatisfied. Eugenie, who expected + scrutiny, allowed none of the cruel emotions that wrung her soul to appear + on the calm surface of her face. She was able to show a smiling front in + answer to all who tried to testify their interest by mournful looks or + melancholy speeches. She hid her misery behind a veil of courtesy. Towards + nine o’clock the games ended and the players left the tables, paying their + losses and discussing points of the game as they joined the rest of the + company. At the moment when the whole party rose to take leave, an + unexpected and striking event occurred, which resounded through the length + and breadth of Saumur, from thence through the arrondissement, and even to + the four surrounding prefectures. + </p> + <p> + “Stay, monsieur le president,” said Eugenie to Monsieur de Bonfons as she + saw him take his cane. + </p> + <p> + There was not a person in that numerous assembly who was unmoved by these + words. The president turned pale, and was forced to sit down. + </p> + <p> + “The president gets the millions,” said Mademoiselle de Gribeaucourt. + </p> + <p> + “It is plain enough; the president marries Mademoiselle Grandet,” cried + Madame d’Orsonval. + </p> + <p> + “All the trumps in one hand,” said the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “A love game,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + Each and all said his say, made his pun, and looked at the heiress mounted + on her millions as on a pedestal. The drama begun nine years before had + reached its conclusion. To tell the president, in face of all Saumur, to + “stay,” was surely the same thing as proclaiming him her husband. In + provincial towns social conventionalities are so rigidly enforced than an + infraction like this constituted a solemn promise. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le president,” said Eugenie in a voice of some emotion when they + were left alone, “I know what pleases you in me. Swear to leave me free + during my whole life, to claim none of the rights which marriage will give + you over me, and my hand is yours. Oh!” she added, seeing him about to + kneel at her feet, “I have more to say. I must not deceive you. In my + heart I cherish one inextinguishable feeling. Friendship is the only + sentiment which I can give to a husband. I wish neither to affront him nor + to violate the laws of my own heart. But you can possess my hand and my + fortune only at the cost of doing me an inestimable service.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready for all things,” said the president. + </p> + <p> + “Here are fifteen hundred thousand francs,” she said, drawing from her + bosom a certificate of a hundred shares in the Bank of France. “Go to + Paris,—not to-morrow, but instantly. Find Monsieur des Grassins, + learn the names of my uncle’s creditors, call them together, pay them in + full all that was owing, with interest at five per cent from the day the + debt was incurred to the present time. Be careful to obtain a full and + legal receipt, in proper form, before a notary. You are a magistrate, and + I can trust this matter in your hands. You are a man of honor; I will put + faith in your word, and meet the dangers of life under shelter of your + name. Let us have mutual indulgence. We have known each other so long that + we are almost related; you would not wish to render me unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + The president fell at the feet of the rich heiress, his heart beating and + wrung with joy. + </p> + <p> + “I will be your slave!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “When you obtain the receipts, monsieur,” she resumed, with a cold glance, + “you will take them with all the other papers to my cousin Grandet, and + you will give him this letter. On your return I will keep my word.” + </p> + <p> + The president understood perfectly that he owed the acquiescence of + Mademoiselle Grandet to some bitterness of love, and he made haste to obey + her orders, lest time should effect a reconciliation between the pair. + </p> + <p> + When Monsieur de Bonfons left her, Eugenie fell back in her chair and + burst into tears. All was over. + </p> + <p> + The president took the mail-post, and reached Paris the next evening. The + morning after his arrival he went to see des Grassins, and together they + summoned the creditors to meet at the notary’s office where the vouchers + had been deposited. Not a single creditor failed to be present. Creditors + though they were, justice must be done to them,—they were all + punctual. Monsieur de Bonfons, in the name of Mademoiselle Grandet, paid + them the amount of their claims with interest. The payment of interest was + a remarkable event in the Parisian commerce of that day. When the receipts + were all legally registered, and des Grassins had received for his + services the sum of fifty thousand francs allowed to him by Eugenie, the + president made his way to the hotel d’Aubrion and found Charles just + entering his own apartment after a serious encounter with his prospective + father-in-law. The old marquis had told him plainly that he should not + marry his daughter until all the creditors of Guillaume Grandet had been + paid in full. + </p> + <p> + The president gave Charles the following letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My Cousin,—Monsieur le president de Bonfons has undertaken to + place in your hands the aquittance for all claims upon my uncle, + also a receipt by which I acknowledge having received from you the + sum total of those claims. I have heard of a possible failure, and + I think that the son of a bankrupt may not be able to marry + Mademoiselle d’Aubrion. Yes, my cousin, you judged rightly of my + mind and of my manners. I have, it is true, no part in the world; + I understand neither its calculations nor its customs; and I could + not give you the pleasures that you seek in it. Be happy, + according to the social conventions to which you have sacrificed + our love. To make your happiness complete I can only offer you + your father’s honor. Adieu! You will always have a faithful friend + in your cousin +</pre> + <p> + Eugenie. + </p> + <p> + The president smiled at the exclamation which the ambitious young man + could not repress as he received the documents. + </p> + <p> + “We shall announce our marriages at the same time,” remarked Monsieur de + Bonfons. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you marry Eugenie? Well, I am delighted; she is a good girl. But,” + added Charles, struck with a luminous idea, “she must be rich?” + </p> + <p> + “She had,” said the president, with a mischievous smile, “about nineteen + millions four days ago; but she has only seventeen millions to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Charles looked at him thunderstruck. + </p> + <p> + “Seventeen mil—” + </p> + <p> + “Seventeen millions; yes, monsieur. We shall muster, Mademoiselle Grandet + and I, an income of seven hundred and fifty thousand francs when we + marry.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear cousin,” said Charles, recovering a little of his assurance, “we + can push each other’s fortunes.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed,” said the president. “Here is also a little case which I am + charged to give into your own hands,” he added, placing on the table the + leather box which contained the dressing-case. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear friend,” said Madame d’Aubrion, entering the room without + noticing the president, “don’t pay any attention to what poor Monsieur + d’Aubrion has just said to you; the Duchesse de Chaulieu has turned his + head. I repeat, nothing shall interfere with the marriage—” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, madame. The three millions which my father owed were paid + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “In money?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in full, capital and interest; and I am about to do honor to his + memory—” + </p> + <p> + “What folly!” exclaimed his mother-in-law. “Who is this?” she whispered in + Grandet’s ear, perceiving the president. + </p> + <p> + “My man of business,” he answered in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + The marquise bowed superciliously to Monsieur de Bonfons. + </p> + <p> + “We are pushing each other’s fortunes already,” said the president, taking + up his hat. “Good-by, cousin.” + </p> + <p> + “He is laughing at me, the old cockatoo! I’d like to put six inches of + iron into him!” muttered Charles. + </p> + <p> + The president was out of hearing. Three days later Monsieur de Bonfons, on + his return to Saumur, announced his marriage with Eugenie. Six months + after the marriage he was appointed councillor in the Cour royale at + Angers. Before leaving Saumur Madame de Bonfons had the gold of certain + jewels, once so precious to her, melted up, and put, together with the + eight thousand francs paid back by her cousin, into a golden pyx, which + she gave to the parish church where she had so long prayed for <i>him</i>. + She now spent her time between Angers and Saumur. Her husband, who had + shown some public spirit on a certain occasion, became a judge in the + superior courts, and finally, after a few years, president of them. He was + anxiously awaiting a general election, in the hope of being returned to + the Chamber of deputies. He hankered after a peerage; and then— + </p> + <p> + “The king will be his cousin, won’t he?” said Nanon, la Grande Nanon, + Madame Cornoiller, bourgeoise of Saumur, as she listened to her mistress, + who was recounting the honors to which she was called. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Monsieur de Bonfons (he had finally abolished his patronymic + of Cruchot) did not realize any of his ambitious ideas. He died eight days + after his election as deputy of Saumur. God, who sees all and never + strikes amiss, punished him, no doubt, for his sordid calculations and the + legal cleverness with which, <i>accurante Cruchot</i>, he had drawn up his + marriage contract, in which husband and wife gave to each other, “in case + they should have no children, their entire property of every kind, landed + or otherwise, without exception or reservation, dispensing even with the + formality of an inventory; provided that said omission of said inventory + shall not injure their heirs and assigns, it being understood that this + deed of gift is, etc., etc.” This clause of the contract will explain the + profound respect which monsieur le president always testified for the + wishes, and above all, for the solitude of Madame de Bonfons. Women cited + him as the most considerate and delicate of men, pitied him, and even went + so far as to find fault with the passion and grief of Eugenie, blaming + her, as women know so well how to blame, with cruel but discreet + insinuation. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Bonfons must be very ill to leave her husband entirely alone. + Poor woman! Is she likely to get well? What is it? Something gastric? A + cancer?”—“She has grown perfectly yellow. She ought to consult some + celebrated doctor in Paris.”—“How can she be happy without a child? + They say she loves her husband; then why not give him an heir?—in + his position, too!”—“Do you know, it is really dreadful! If it is + the result of mere caprice, it is unpardonable. Poor president!” + </p> + <p> + Endowed with the delicate perception which a solitary soul acquires + through constant meditation, through the exquisite clear-sightedness with + which a mind aloof from life fastens on all that falls within its sphere, + Eugenie, taught by suffering and by her later education to divine thought, + knew well that the president desired her death that he might step into + possession of their immense fortune, augmented by the property of his + uncle the notary and his uncle the abbe, whom it had lately pleased God to + call to himself. The poor solitary pitied the president. Providence + avenged her for the calculations and the indifference of a husband who + respected the hopeless passion on which she spent her life because it was + his surest safeguard. To give life to a child would give death to his + hopes,—the hopes of selfishness, the joys of ambition, which the + president cherished as he looked into the future. + </p> + <p> + God thus flung piles of gold upon this prisoner to whom gold was a matter + of indifference, who longed for heaven, who lived, pious and good, in holy + thoughts, succoring the unfortunate in secret, and never wearying of such + deeds. Madame de Bonfons became a widow at thirty-six. She is still + beautiful, but with the beauty of a woman who is nearly forty years of + age. Her face is white and placid and calm; her voice gentle and + self-possessed; her manners are simple. She has the noblest qualities of + sorrow, the saintliness of one who has never soiled her soul by contact + with the world; but she has also the rigid bearing of an old maid and the + petty habits inseparable from the narrow round of provincial life. In + spite of her vast wealth, she lives as the poor Eugenie Grandet once + lived. The fire is never lighted on her hearth until the day when her + father allowed it to be lighted in the hall, and it is put out in + conformity with the rules which governed her youthful years. She dresses + as her mother dressed. The house in Saumur, without sun, without warmth, + always in shadow, melancholy, is an image of her life. She carefully + accumulates her income, and might seem parsimonious did she not disarm + criticism by a noble employment of her wealth. Pious and charitable + institutions, a hospital for old age, Christian schools for children, a + public library richly endowed, bear testimony against the charge of + avarice which some persons lay at her door. The churches of Saumur owe + much of their embellishment to her. Madame de Bonfons (sometimes + ironically spoken of as mademoiselle) inspires for the most part + reverential respect: and yet that noble heart, beating only with tenderest + emotions, has been, from first to last, subjected to the calculations of + human selfishness; money has cast its frigid influence upon that hallowed + life and taught distrust of feelings to a woman who is all feeling. + </p> + <p> + “I have none but you to love me,” she says to Nanon. + </p> + <p> + The hand of this woman stanches the secret wounds in many families. She + goes on her way to heaven attended by a train of benefactions. The + grandeur of her soul redeems the narrowness of her education and the petty + habits of her early life. + </p> + <p> + Such is the history of Eugenie Grandet, who is in the world but not of it; + who, created to be supremely a wife and mother, has neither husband nor + children nor family. Lately there has been some question of her marrying + again. The Saumur people talk of her and of the Marquis de Froidfond, + whose family are beginning to beset the rich widow just as, in former + days, the Cruchots laid siege to the rich heiress. Nanon and Cornoiller + are, it is said, in the interests of the marquis. Nothing could be more + false. Neither la Grande Nanon nor Cornoiller has sufficient mind to + understand the corruptions of the world. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Chaulieu, Eleonore, Duchesse de + Letters of Two Brides + + Grandet, Victor-Ange-Guillaume + The Firm of Nucingen + + Grandet, Charles + The Firm of Nucingen + + Keller, Francois + Domestic Peace + Cesar Birotteau + The Government Clerks + The Member for Arcis + + Lupeaulx, Clement Chardin des + The Muse of the Department + A Bachelor’s Establishment + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Ursule Mirouet + + Nathan, Madame Raoul + The Muse of the Department + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + A Bachelor’s Establishment + Ursule Mirouet + The Imaginary Mistress + A Prince of Bohemia + A Daughter of Eve + The Unconscious Humorists + + Nucingen, Baronne Delphine de + Father Goriot + The Thirteen + Cesar Birotteau + Melmoth Reconciled + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Commission in Lunacy + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Modeste Mignon + The Firm of Nucingen + Another Study of Woman + A Daughter of Eve + The Member for Arcis + + Roguin + Cesar Birotteau + Eugenie Grandet + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Vendetta +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eugenie Grandet, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EUGENIE GRANDET *** + +***** This file should be named 1715-h.htm or 1715-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/1715/ + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |