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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3345.txt b/3345.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c4b1fd --- /dev/null +++ b/3345.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5221 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wandering Jew, Book VII., by Eugene Sue + +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: The Wandering Jew, Book VII. + +Author: Eugene Sue + +Release Date: October 25, 2004 [EBook #3345] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WANDERING JEW, BOOK VII. *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger and Pat Castevens + + + + + +THE WANDERING JEW + +By Eugene Sue + + + + +BOOK VII. + + +XL. The East Indian in Paris +XLI. Rising +XLII. Doubts +XLIII. The Letter +XLIV. Adrienne and Djalma +XLV. The Consultation +XLVI. Mother Bunch's Diary +XLVII. The Diary Continued +XLVIII. The Discovery +XLIX. The Trysting-Place of the Wolves +L. The Common Dwelling-House +LI. The Secret +LII. Revelations + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE EAST INDIAN IN PARIS. + +Since three days, Mdlle. de Cardoville had left Dr. Baleinier's. The +following scene took place in a little dwelling in the Rue Blanche, to +which Djalma had been conducted in the name of his unknown protector. +Fancy to yourself a pretty, circular apartment, hung with Indian drapery, +with purple figures on a gray ground, just relieved by a few threads of +gold. The ceiling, towards the centre, is concealed by similar hangings, +tied together by a thick, silken cord; the two ends of this cord, unequal +in length, terminated, instead of tassels, in two tiny Indian lamps of +gold filigreed-work, marvellously finished. By one of those ingenious +combinations, so common in barbarous countries, these lamps served also +to burn perfumes. Plates of blue crystal, let in between the openings of +the arabesque, and illumined by the interior light, shone with so limpid +an azure, that the golden lamps seemed starred with transparent +sapphires. Light clouds, of whitish vapor rose incessantly from these +lamps, and spread all around their balmy odor. + +Daylight was only admitted to this room (it was about two o'clock in the +afternoon) through a little greenhouse, on the other side of a door of +plate-glass, made to slide into the thickness of the wall, by means of a +groove. A Chinese shade was arranged so as to hide or replace this glass +at pleasure. Some dwarf palm tress, plantains, and other Indian +productions, with thick leaves of a metallic green, arranged in clusters +in this conservatory, formed, as it were, the background to two large +variegated bushes of exotic flowers, which were separated by a narrow +path, paved with yellow and blue Japanese tiles, running to the foot of +the glass. The daylight, already much dimmed by the leaves through which +it passed, took a hue of singular mildness as it mingled with the azure +lustre of the perfumed lamps, and the crimson brightness of the fire in +the tall chimney of oriental porphyry. In the obscurity of this +apartment, impregnated with sweet odors and the aromatic vapor of Persian +tobacco, a man with brown, hanging locks, dressed in a long robe of dark +green, fastened round the waist by a parti-colored sash, was kneeling +upon a magnificent Turkey carpet, filling the golden bowl of a hookah; +the long, flexible tube of this pipe, after rolling its folds upon the +carpet, like a scarlet serpent with silver scales, rested between the +slender fingers of Djalma, who was reclining negligently on a divan. The +young prince was bareheaded; his jet-black hair, parted on the middle of +his forehead, streamed waving about his face and neck of antique +beauty--their warm transparent colors resembling amber or topaz. Leaning +his elbow on a cushion, he supported his chin with the palm of his right +hand. The flowing sleeve of his robe, falling back from his arm, which +was round as that of a woman, revealed mysterious signs formerly tattooed +there in India by a Thug's needle. The son of Radja-sing held in his left +hand the amber mouthpiece of his pipe. His robe of magnificent cashmere, +with a border of a thousand hues, reaching to his knee, was fastened +about his slim and well-formed figure by the large folds of an +orange-colored shawl. This robe was half withdrawn from one of the +elegant legs of this Asiatic Antinous, clad in a kind of very close +fitting gaiter of crimson velvet, embroidered with silver, and +terminating in a small white morocco slipper, with a scarlet heel. At +once mild and manly, the countenance of Djalma was expressive of that +melancholy and contemplative calmness habitual to the Indian and the +Arab, who possess the happy privilege of uniting, by a rare combination, +the meditative indolence of the dreamer with the fiery energy of the man +of action--now delicate, nervous, impressionable as women--now +determined, ferocious, and sanguinary as bandits. + +And this semi-feminine comparison, applicable to the moral nature of the +Arab and the Indian, so long as they are not carried away by the ardor of +battle and the excitement of carnage, is almost equally applicable to +their physical constitution; for if, like women of good blood, they have +small extremities, slender limbs, fine and supple forms, this delicate +and often charming exterior always covers muscles of steel, full of an +elasticity, and vigor truly masculine. Djalma's oblong eyes, like black +diamonds set in bluish mother-of-pearl, wandered mechanically from the +exotic flowers to the ceiling; from time to time he raised the amber +mouthpiece of the hookah to his lips; then, after a slow aspiration, half +opening his rosy lips, strongly contrasted with the shining enamel of his +teeth, he sent forth a little spiral line of smoke, freshly scented by +the rose-water through which it had passed. + +"Shall I put more tobacco in the hookah?" said the kneeling figure, +turning towards Djalma, and revealing the marked and sinister features of +Faringhea the Strangler. + +The young prince remained dumb, either that, from an oriental contempt +for certain races, he disdained to answer the half-caste, or that, +absorbed in his reverie, he did not even hear him. The Strangler became +again silent; crouching cross-legged upon the carpet, with his elbows +resting on his knees, and his chin upon his hands, he kept his eyes fixed +on Djalma, and seemed to await the reply or the orders of him whose sire +had been surnamed the Father of the Generous. How had Faringhea, the +sanguinary worshipper of Bowanee, the Divinity of Murder, been brought to +seek or to accept such humble functions? How came this man, possessed of +no vulgar talents, whose passionate eloquence and ferocious energy had +recruited many assassins for the service of the Good Work, to resign +himself to so base a condition? Why, too, had this man, who, profiting by +the young prince's blindness with regard to himself, might have so easily +sacrificed him as an offering to Bowanee--why had he spared the life of +Radja-sings son? Why, in fine, did he expose himself to such frequent +encounters with Rodin, whom he had only known under the most unfavorable +auspices? The sequel of this story will answer all these questions. We +can only say at present, that, after a long interview with Rodin, two +nights before, the Thug had quitted him with downcast eyes and cautious +bearing. + +After having remained silent for some time, Djalma, following with his +eye the cloud of whitish smoke that he had just sent forth into space, +addressed Faringhea, without looking at him, and said to him in the +language, as hyperbolical as concise, of Orientals: "Time passes. The old +man with the good heart does not come. But he will come. His word is his +word." + +"His word is his word, my lord," repeated Faringhea, in an affirmative +tone. "When he came to fetch you, three days ago, from the house whither +those wretches, in furtherance of their wicked designs, had conveyed you +in a deep sleep--after throwing me, your watchful and devoted servant, +into a similar state--he said to you: 'The unknown friend, who sent for +you to Cardoville Castle, bids me come to you, prince. Have confidence, +and follow me. A worthy abode is prepared for you.'--And again, he said +to you, my lord: 'Consent not to leave the house, until my return. Your +interest requires it. In three days you will see me again, and then be +restored to perfect freedom.' You consented to those terms, my lord, and +for three days you have not left the house." + +"And I wait for the old man with impatience," said Djalma, "for this +solitude is heavy with me. There must be so many things to admire in +Paris. Above all." + +Djalma did not finish the sentence, but relapsed into a reverie. After +some moments' silence, the son of Radja-sing said suddenly to Faringhea, +in the tone of an impatient yet indolent sultan: "Speak to me!" + +"Of what shall I speak, my lord?" + +"Of what you will," said Djalma, with careless contempt, as he fixed on +the ceiling his eyes, half-veiled with languor. "One thought pursues +me--I wish to be diverted from it. Speak to me." + +Faringhea threw a piercing glance on the countenance of the young Indian, +and saw that his cheeks were colored with a slight blush. "My lord," said +the half-caste, "I can guess your thought." + +Djalma shook his head, without looking at the Strangler. The latter +resumed: "You are thinking of the women of Paris, my lord." + +"Be silent, slave!" said Djalma, turning abruptly on the sofa, as if some +painful wound had been touched to the quick. Faringhea obeyed. + +After the lapse of some moments. Djalma broke forth again with +impatience, throwing aside the tube of the hookah, and veiling both eyes +with his hands: "Your words are better than silence. Cursed be my +thoughts, and the spirit which calls up these phantoms!" + +"Why should you fly these thoughts, my lord? You are nineteen years of +age, and hitherto all your youth has been spent in war and captivity. Up +to this time, you have remained as chaste as Gabriel, that young +Christian priest, who accompanied us on our voyage." + +Though Faringhea did not at all depart from his respectful deference for +the prince, the latter felt that there was something of irony in the tone +of the half-caste, as he pronounced the word "chaste." + +Djalma said to him with a mixture of pride and severity: "I do not wish +to pass for a barbarian, as they call us, with these civilized people; +therefore I glory in my chastity." + +"I do not understand, my lord." + +"I may perhaps love some woman, pure as was my mother when she married my +father; and to ask for purity from a woman, a man must be chaste as she." + +At this, Faringhea could not refrain from a sardonic smile. + +"Why do you laugh, slave?" said the young prince, imperiously. + +"Among civilized people, as you call them, my lord, the man who married +in the flower of his innocence would be mortally wounded with ridicule." + +"It is false, slave! He would only be ridiculous if he married one that +was not pure as himself." + +"Then, my lord, he would not only be wounded--he would be killed +outright, for he would be doubly and unmercifully laughed at." + +"It is false! it is false. Where did you learn all this?" + +"I have seen Parisian women at the Isle of France, and at Pondicherry, my +lord. Moreover, I learned a good deal during our voyage; I talked with a +young officer, while you conversed with the young priest." + +"So, like the sultans of our harems, civilized men require of women the +innocence they have themselves lost." + +"They require it the more, the less they have of it, my lord." + +"To require without any return, is to act as a master to his slave; by +what right?" + +"By the right of the strongest--as it is among us, my lord." + +"And what do the women do?" + +"They prevent the men from being too ridiculous, when they marry, in the +eyes of the world." + +"But they kill a woman that is false?" said Djalma, raising himself +abruptly, and fixing upon Faringhea a savage look, that sparkled with +lurid fire. + +"They kill her, my lord, as with us--when they find her out." + +"Despots like ourselves! Why then do these civilized men not shut up +their women, to force them to a fidelity which they do not practise?" + +"Because their civilization is barbarous, and their barbarism civilized, +my lord." + +"All this is sad enough, if true," observed Djalma, with a pensive air, +adding, with a species of enthusiasm, employing, as usual, the mystic and +figurative language familiar to the people of his country; "yes, your +talk afflicts me, slave--for two drops of dew blending in the cup of a +flower are as hearts that mingle in a pure and virgin love; and two rays +of light united in one inextinguishable flame, are as the burning and +eternal joys of lovers joined in wedlock." + +Djalma spoke of the pure enjoyments of the soul with inexpressible grace, +yet it was when he painted less ideal happiness, that his eyes shone like +stars; he shuddered slightly, his nostrils swelled, the pale gold of his +complexion became vermilion, and the young prince sank into a deep +reverie. + +Faringhea, having remarked this emotion, thus spoke: "If, like the proud +and brilliant king-bird of our woods, you prefer numerous and varied +pleasures to solitary and monotonous amours--handsome, young, rich as you +are, my lord, were you to seek out the seductive Parisians--voluptuous +phantoms of your nights--charming tormentors of your dreams--were you to +cast upon them looks bold as a challenge, supplicating as prayers, ardent +as desires--do you not think that many a half-veiled eye would borrow +fire from your glance? Then it would no longer be the monotonous delights +of a single love, the heavy chain of our life--no, it would be the +thousand pleasures of the harem--a harem peopled with free and proud +beauties, whom happy love would make your slaves. So long constrained, +there is no such thing as excess to you. Believe me, it would then be +you, the ardent, the magnificent son of our country, that would become +the love and pride of these women--the most seductive in the world, who +would soon have for you no looks but those of languor and passion." + +Djalma had listened to Faringhea with silent eagerness. The expression of +his features had completely changed; it was no longer the melancholy and +dreaming youth, invoking the sacred remembrance of his mother, and +finding only in the dew of heaven, in the calyx of flowers, images +sufficiently pure to paint the chastity of the love he dreamed of; it was +no longer even the young man, blushing with a modest ardor at the thought +of the permitted joys of a legitimate union. No! the incitements of +Faringhea had kindled a subterraneous fire; the inflamed countenance of +Djalma, his eyes now sparkling and now veiled, his manly and sonorous +respiration, announced the heat of his blood, the boiling up of the +passions, only the more energetic, that they had been hitherto +restrained. + +So, springing suddenly from the divan, supple, vigorous, and light as a +young tiger, Djalma clutched Faringhea by the throat exclaiming: "Thy +words are burning poison!" + +"My lord," said Faringhea, without opposing the least resistance, "your +slave is your slave." This submission disarmed the prince. + +"My life belongs to you," repeated the half-caste. + +"I belong to you, slave!" cried Djalma, repulsing him. "Just now, I hung +upon your lips, devouring your dangerous lies." + +"Lies, my lord? Only appear before these women, and their looks will +confirm my words." + +"These women love me!--me, who have only lived in war and in the woods?" + +"The thought that you, so young, have already waged bloody war on men and +tigers, will make them adore, my lord." + +"You lie!" + +"I tell you, my lord, on seeing your hand, as delicate as theirs, but +which has been so often bathed in hostile blood, they will wish to caress +it; and they will kiss it again, when they think that, in our forests, +with loaded rifle, and a poniard between your teeth, you smiled at the +roaring of a lion or panther for whom you lay in wait." + +"But I am a savage--a barbarian." + +"And for that very reason you will have them at your feet. They will feel +themselves both terrified and charmed by all the violence and fury, the +rage of jealousy, the passion and the love, to which a man of your blood, +your youth, your ardor must be subject. To-day mild and tender, to-morrow +fierce and suspicious, another time ardent and passionate, such you will +be--and such you ought to be, if you wish to win them. Yes; let a kiss of +rage be heard between two kisses: let a dagger glitter in the midst of +caresses, and they will fall before you, palpitating with pleasure, love, +and fear--and you will be to them, not a man, but a god." + +"Dost think so?" cried Djalma, carried away in spite of himself by the +Thug's wild eloquence. + +"You know, you feel, that I speak the truth," cried the latter, extending +his arm towards the young Indian. + +"Why, yes!" exclaimed Djalma, his eyes sparkling, his nostrils swelling, +as he moved about the apartment with savage bounds. "I know not if I +possess my reason, or if I am intoxicated, but it seems to me that you +speak truth. Yes, I feel that they will love me with madness and fury, +because my love will be mad and furious they will tremble with pleasure +and fear, because the very thought of it makes me tremble with delight +and terror. Slave, it is true; there is something exciting and fearful in +such a love!" As he spoke forth these words, Djalma was superb in his +impetuous sensuality. It is a rare thing to see a young man arrive in his +native purity, at the age in which are developed, in all their powerful +energy, those admirable instincts of love, which God has implanted in the +heart of his creatures, and which, repressed, disguised, or perverted, +may unseat the reason, or generate mad excesses and frightful crimes--but +which, directed towards a great and noble passion, may and must, by their +very violence, elevate man, through devotion and tenderness, to the +limits of the ideal. + +"Oh! this woman--this woman, before whom I am to tremble--and who, in +turn, must tremble before me--where is she?" cried Djalma, with redoubled +excitement. "Shall I ever find her?" + +"One is a good deal, my lord," replied Faringhea, with his sardonic +coolness; "he who looks for one woman, will rarely succeed in this +country; he who seeks women, is only at a loss to choose." + +As the half-caste made this impertinent answer to Djalma, a very elegant +blue-and-white carriage stopped before the garden-gate of the house, +which opened upon a deserted street. It was drawn by a pair of beautiful +blood-horses, of a cream color, with black manes and tails. The +scutcheons on the harness were of silver, as were also the buttons of the +servants' livery, which was blue with white collars. On the blue +hammercloth, also laced with white, as well as on the panels of the +doors, were lozenge-shaped coats of arms, without crest or coronet, as +usually borne by unmarried daughters of noble families. Two women were in +this carriage--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +RISING. + +To explain the arrival of Mdlle. de Cardoville at the garden-door of the +house occupied by Djalma, we must cast a retrospective glance at previous +events. On leaving Doctor Baleinier's, Mdlle. de Cardoville had gone to +take up her residence in the Rue d'Anjou. During the last few months of +her stay with her aunt, Adrienne had secretly caused this handsome +dwelling to be repaired and furnished, and its luxury and elegance were +now increased by all the wonders of the lodge of Saint-Dizier House. The +world found it very strange, that a lady of the age and condition of +Mdlle. de Cardoville should take the resolution of living completely +alone and free, and, in fact, of keeping house exactly like a bachelor, a +young widow, or an emancipated minor. The world pretended not to know +that Mdlle. de Cardoville possessed what is often wanting in men, whether +of age or twice of age--a firm character, a lofty mind, a generous heart, +strong and vigorous good sense. + +Judging that she would require faithful assistance in the internal +management of her house, Adrienne had written to the bailiff of +Cardoville, and his wife, old family servants, to come immediately to +Paris: M. Dupont thus filled the office of steward, and Mme. Dupont that +of housekeeper. An old friend of Adrienne's father, the Count de +Montbron, an accomplished old man, once very much in fashion, and still a +connoisseur in all sorts of elegances, had advised Adrienne to act like a +princess, and take an equerry; recommended for this office a man of good +rearing and ripe age, who, himself an amateur in horses, had been ruined +in England, at Newmarket, the Derby, and Tattersall's, and reduced, as +sometimes happened to gentlemen in that country, to drive the stage +coaches, thus finding an honest method of earning his bread, and at the +same time gratifying his taste for horses. Such was M. de Bonneville, M. +de Montbron's choice. Both from age and habits, this equerry could +accompany Mdlle. de Cardoville on horseback, and better than any one +else, superintend the stable. He accepted, therefore, the employment with +gratitude, and, thanks to his skill and attention, the equipages of +Mdlle. de Cardoville were not eclipsed in style by anything of the kind +in Paris. Mdlle. de Cardoville had taken back her women, Hebe, Georgette, +and Florine. The latter was at first to have re-entered the service of +the Princess de Saint-Dizier, to continue her part of spy for the +superior of St. Mary's Convent; but, in consequence of the new direction +given by Rodin to the Rennepont affair, it was decided that Florine, if +possible, should return to the service of Mdlle. de Cardoville. This +confidential place, enabling this unfortunate creature to render +important and mysterious services to the people who held her fate in +their hands, forced her to infamous treachery. Unfortunately, all things +favored this machination. We know that Florine, in her interview with +Mother Bunch, a few days after Mdlle. de Cardoville was imprisoned at Dr. +Baleinier's, had yielded to a twinge of remorse, and given to the +sempstress advice likely to be of use to Adrienne's interests--sending +word to Agricola not to deliver to Madame de Saint Dizier the papers +found in the hiding-place of the pavilion, but only to entrust them to +Mdlle. de Cardoville herself. The latter, afterwards informed of these +details by Mother Bunch, felt a double degree of confidence and interest +in Florine, took her back into her service with gratitude, and almost +immediately charged her with a confidential mission--that of +superintending the arrangements of the house hired for Djalma's +habitation. As for Mother Bunch (yielding to the solicitations of Mdlle. +de Cardoville, and finding she was no longer of use to Dagobert's wife, +of whom we shall speak hereafter), she had consented to take up her abode +in the hotel on the Rue d'Anjou, along with Adrienne, who with that rare +sagacity of the heart peculiar to her, entrusted the young sempstress, +who served her also as a secretary, with the department of alms-giving. + +Mdlle. de Cardoville had at first thought of entertaining her merely as a +friend, wishing to pay homage in her person to probity with labor, +resignation in sorrow, and intelligence in poverty; but knowing the +workgirl's natural dignity, she feared, with reason that, notwithstanding +the delicate circumspection with which the hospitality would be offered, +Mother Bunch might perceive in it alms in disguise. Adrienne preferred, +therefore, whilst she treated her as a friend, to give her a confidential +employment. In this manner the great delicacy of the needlewoman would be +spared, since she could earn her livelihood by performing duties which +would at the same time satisfy her praiseworthy instincts of charity. In +fact, she could fulfil, better than any one, the sacred mission confided +to her by Adrienne. Her cruel experience in misfortune, the goodness of +her angelic soul, the elevation of her mind, her rare activity, her +penetration with regard to the painful secrets of poverty, her perfect +knowledge of the industrial classes, were sufficient security for the +tact and intelligence with which the excellent creature would second the +generous intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +Let us now speak of the divers events which, on that day, preceded the +coming of Mdlle. de Cardoville to the garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. About ten o'clock in the morning, the blinds of Adrienne's +bedchamber, closely shut, admitted no ray of daylight to this apartment, +which was only lighted by a spherical lamp of oriental alabaster, +suspended from the ceiling by three long silver chains. This apartment, +terminating in a dome, was in the form of a tent with eight sides. From +the ceiling to the floor, it was hung with white silk, covered with long +draperies of muslin, fastened in large puffs to the wall, by bands caught +in at regular distances by plates of ivory. Two doors, also of ivory, +admirably encrusted with mother-of-pearl, led, one to the bath-room, the +other to the toilet-chamber, a sort of little temple dedicated to the +worship of beauty, and furnished as it had been at the pavilion of Saint +Dizier House. Two other compartments of the wall were occupied by +windows, completely veiled with drapery. Opposite the bed, enclosing +splendid fire-dogs of chased silver, was a chimney-piece of white marble, +like crystallized snow, on which were sculptured two magnificent +caryatides, and a frieze representing birds and flowers. Above this +frieze, carved in openwork with extreme delicacy, was a marble basket, +filled with red camellias. Their leaves of shining green their flowers of +a delicate rosy hue, were the only colors that disturbed the harmonious +whiteness of this virgin retreat. Finally, half surrounded by waves of +white muslin, which poured down from the dome like a mass of light +clouds, the bed was visible--very low, and resting on feet of carved +ivory, which stood upon the ermine carpet that covered the floor. With +the exception of a plinth, also in ivory, admirably inlaid with +mother-of-pearl, the bed was entirely covered with white satin, wadded +and quilted like an immense scent-bag. The cambric sheets, trimmed with +lace, being a little disturbed on one side, discovered the corner of a +white taffety mattress, and a light counterpane of watered stuff--for an +equal temperature always reigned in this apartment, warm as a fine spring +day. + +From a singular scruple, arising from the same sentiment which had caused +Adrienne to have inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work the name +of the maker instead of that of the seller, she had wished all these +articles, so costly and sumptuous, to be manufactured by workmen chosen +amongst the most intelligent, honest, and industrious of their class, +whom she had supplied with the necessary materials. In this manner she +had been able to add to the price of the work the profit usually gained +by the middle man, who speculates in such labor; this notable +augmentation of wages had spread happiness and comfort through a hundred +necessitous families, who, blessing the munificence of Adrienne, gave +her, as she said, the right to enjoy her luxury as a good action. Nothing +could be fresher or more charming than the interior of this bedchamber. +Mdlle. de Cardoville had just awoke; she reposed in the middle of this +flood of muslin, lace, cambric, and white silk, in a position full of +sweet grace. Never during the night did she cover that beautiful golden +hair (a certain recipe, said the Greeks, for preserving it for a long +while in magnificence). Every evening, her women arranged her long silky +curls in flat tresses, forming two broad bands, which, descending +sufficiently low almost entirely to conceal the small ear, the rosy lobe +of which was alone visible, were joined to the large plait behind the +head. + +This head-dress, borrowed from Greek antiquity, set off to admiration the +pure, fine features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and made her look so much +younger, that, instead of eighteen, one would hardly have given her +fifteen years of age. Gathered thus closely about the temples, the hair +lost its transparent and brilliant hues, and would have appeared almost +brown, but for the golden tints which played here and there, amid the +undulations of the tresses. Lulled in that morning torpor, the warm +languor of which is so favorable to soft reveries, Adrienne leaned with +her elbow on the pillow, and her head a little on one side, which +displayed to advantage the ideal contour of her bared neck and shoulders; +her smiling lips, moist and rosy, were, like her cheeks, cold as if they +had just been bathed in ice-water; her snow-white lids half veiled the +large, dark, soft eyes, which now gazed languidly upon vacancy, and now +fixed themselves with pleasure upon the rosy flowers and green leaves in +the basket of camellias. Who can paint the matchless serenity of +Adrienne's awaking--when the fair and chaste soul roused itself in the +fair and chaste body? It was the awakening of a heart as pure as the +fresh and balmy breath of youth, that made her bosom rise and fall in its +white, immaculate purity. What creed, what dogma, what formula, what +religious symbol, oh! paternal and divine Creator! can ever give a more +complete idea of Thy harmonious and ineffable power, than the image of a +young maiden awaking in the bloom of her beauty, and in all the grace of +that modesty with which Thou hast endowed her, seeking, in her dreamy +innocence, for the secret of that celestial instinct of love, which Thou +hast placed in the bosom of all Thy creatures--oh! Thou whose love is +eternal, and goodness infinite! + +The confused thoughts which, since her sleep, had appeared gently to +agitate Adrienne, absorbed her more and more; her head resting on her +bosom, her beautiful arm upon the couch, her features without becoming +precisely sad, assumed an expression of touching melancholy. Her dearest +desire was accomplished; she was about to live independent and alone. But +this affectionate, delicate, expansive, and marvellously complete nature, +felt that God had not given her such rare treasures, to bury them in a +cold and selfish solitude. She felt how much that was great and beautiful +might be inspired by love, both in herself, and in him that should be +worthy of her. Confiding in her courage, and the nobleness of her +character, proud of the example that she wished to give to other women, +knowing that all eyes would be fixed enviously upon her, she felt, as it +were, only too sure of herself; far from fearing that she should make a +bad choice, she rather feared, that she should not find any from whom to +choose, so pure and perfect was her taste. And, even had she met with her +own ideal, she had views so singular and so just, so extraordinary and +yet so sensible, with regard to the independence and dignity of woman, +that, inexorably determined to make no concession upon this head, she +asked herself if the man of her choice would ever accept the hitherto +unheard-of conditions that she meant to impose. In recalling to her +remembrance the possible suitors that she had met in the world, she +remembered also the dark, but true picture, which Rodin had drawn with so +much caustic bitterness. She remembered, too, not without a certain +pride, the encouragement this man had given her, not by flattery, but by +advising her to follow out and accomplish a great, generous, and +beautiful design. The current or the caprice of fancy soon brought +Adrienne to think of Djalma. Whilst she congratulated herself on having +paid to her royal kinsman the duties of a kingly hospitality, the young +lady was far from regarding the prince as the hero of her future. + +And first she said to herself, not unreasonably, that this half-savage +boy, with passions, if not untamable, yet untamed, transported on a +sudden into the midst of a refined civilization, would be inevitably +destined to fiery trials and violent transformations. Now Mdlle. de +Cardoville, having nothing masculine or despotic in her character, had no +wish to civilize the young savage. Therefore, notwithstanding the +interest, or rather because of the interest, which she felt for the young +Indian, she was firmly resolved, not to make herself known to him, till +after the lapse of two or three months; and she determined also, that, +even if Djalma should learn by chance that she was his relation, she +would not receive his visit. She desired, if not to try him, at least to +leave him free in all his acts, so that he might expend the first fire of +his passions, good or bad. But not wishing to abandon him quite without +defence to the perils of Parisian life, she requested the Count de +Montbron, in confidence, to introduce Prince Djalma to the best company +in Paris, and to enlighten him by the counsels of his long experience. M. +de Montbron had received the request of Mdlle. de Cardoville with the +greatest pleasure, taking delight, he said, in starting his royal tiger +in drawing-rooms, and bringing him into contact with the flower of the +fine ladies and gentlemen of Paris, offering at the same time to wager +any amount in favor of his half-savage pupil. + +"As for myself, my dear Count," said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with her +usual frankness, "my resolution is not to be shaken. You have told me the +effect that will be produced in the fashionable world, by the first +appearance of Prince Djalma, an Indian nineteen years of age, of +surprising beauty, proud and wild as a young lion arriving from his +forest; it is new, it is extraordinary, you added; and, therefore, all +the coquetries of civilized life will pursue him with an eagerness which +makes me tremble for him. Now, seriously, my dear count it will not suit +me to appear as the rival of so many fine ladies, who are about to expose +themselves intrepidly to the claws of the young tiger. I take great +interest in him, because he is my cousin, because he is handsome, because +he is brave, and above all because he does not wear that horrible +European dress. No doubt these are rare qualities--but not sufficient to +make me change my mind. Besides, the good old philosopher, my new friend, +has given me advice about this Indian, which you, my dear Count, who are +not a philosopher, will yet approve. It is, for some time, to receive +visits at home, but not to visit other people--which will spare me the +awkwardness of meeting my royal cousin, and allow me to make a careful +choice, even amongst my usual society. As my house will be an excellent +one, my position most unusual, and as I shall be suspected of all sorts +of naughty secrets, I shall be in no want of inquisitive visitors, who +will amuse me a good deal, I assure you." + +And as M. de Montbron asked, if the exile of the poor young Indian tiger +was to last long, Adrienne answered: "As I shall see most of the persons, +to whom you will introduce him, I shall be pleased to hear different +opinions about him. If certain men speak well of him, and certain women +ill, I shall have good hope of him. In a word, the opinion that I come +to, in sifting the true from the false (you may leave that to my +sagacity), will shorten or prolong the exile of my royal cousin." + +Such were the formal intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville with regard to +Djalma, even on the day she went with Florine to the house he occupied. +In a word, she had positively resolved not to be known to him for some +months to come. + +After long reflecting that morning, on the chances that might yet offer +themselves to satisfy the wants of her heart, Adrienne fell into a new, +deep reverie. This charming creature, so full of life and youth, heaved a +low sigh, raised her arms above her head, turned her profile towards the +pillow, and remained for some moments as if powerless and vanquished. +Motionless beneath the white tissues that wrapped her round, she looked +like a fair, marble statue, visible beneath a light layer of snow. +Suddenly, Adrienne raised herself up, drew her hand across her brow, and +rang for her women. At the first silver tone of the bell, the two ivory +doors opened. Georgette appeared on the threshold of the dressing-room, +from which Frisky, a little black and-tan dog, with his golden collar, +escaped with a joyful barking. Hebe appeared at the same time on the +threshold of the bath-room. At the further end of this apartment, lighted +from above, might be seen upon a green mat of Spanish leather, with +golden ornaments, a crystal bath in the form of a long shell. The three +only divisions in this masterpiece of glass work, were concealed by the +elegant device of several large reeds in silver, which rose from the wide +base of the bath, also of wrought silver, representing children and +dolphins playing, among branches of natural coral, and azure shells. +Nothing could be more pleasing than the effect of these purple reeds and +ultramarine shells, upon a dull ground of silver; the balsamic vapor, +which rose from the warm, limpid, and perfumed water, that filled the +crystal shell, spread through the bath-room, and floated like a light +cloud into the sleeping-chamber. + +Seeing Hebe in her fresh and pretty costume, bringing her a long bathing +gown, hanging upon a bare and dimpled arm, Adrienne said to her: "Where +is Florine, my child?" + +"Madame, she went downstairs two hours ago; she was wanted for something +very pressing." + +"Who wanted her?" + +"The young person who serves Madame as secretary. She went out this +morning very early; and, as soon as she returned, she sent for Florine, +who has not come back since." + +"This absence no doubt relates to some important affair of my angelic +minister of succor," said Adrienne, smiling, and thinking of the +hunchback. Then she made a sign to Hebe to approach her bed. + +About two hours after rising, Adrienne, having had herself dressed, as +usual, with rare elegance, dismissed her women, and sent for Mother +Bunch, whom she treated with marked deference, always receiving her +alone. The young sempstress entered hastily, with a pale, agitated +countenance, and said, in a trembling voice: "Oh, madame! my +presentiments were justified. You are betrayed." + +"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with +surprise. "Who betrays me?" + +"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +DOUBTS. + +On hearing the accusation brought against Rodin, Mdlle. de Cardoville +looked at the denunciator with new astonishment. Before continuing this +scene, we may say that Mother Bunch was no longer clad in her poor, old +clothes, but was dressed in black, with as much simplicity as taste. The +sad color seemed to indicate her renunciation of all human vanity, the +eternal mourning of her heart, and the austere duties imposed upon her by +her devotion to misfortune. With her black gown, she wore a large falling +collar, white and neat as her little gauze cap, with its gray ribbons, +which, revealing her bands of fine brown hair, set off to advantage her +pale and melancholy countenance, with its soft blue eyes. Her long, +delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no longer, as +formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent whiteness. + +Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely surprised, +Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?" + +"M. Rodin betrays you, madame." + +"M. Rodin? Impossible!" + +"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me." + +"Your presentiments?" + +"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My +heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame." + +"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor +friend?" + +"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear +was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin +showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less." + +"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost +irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this +instance--However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no +matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?" + +"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M. +Rodin had given me, in the name of a charitable person. I did not find +Cephyse at the friend's who had taken care of her; I therefore begged the +portress, to inform my sister that I would call again this morning. That +is what I did; but you must excuse me, madame, some necessary details." + +"Speak, speak, my dear." + +"The young girl who had received my sister," said Mother Bunch, with +embarrassment, casting down her eyes and blushing, "does not lead a very +regular life. A person, with whom she has gone on several parties of +pleasure, one M. Dumoulin, had informed her of the real name of M. Rodin, +who has a kind of lodging in that house, and there goes by the name of +Charlemagne." + +"That is just what he told us at Dr. Baleinier's; and, the day before +yesterday, when I again alluded to the circumstance, he explained to me +the necessity in which he was, for certain reasons, to have a humble +retreat in that remote quarter--and I could not but approve of his +motives." + +"Well, then! yesterday, M. Rodin received a visit from the Abbe +d'Aigrigny." + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame; he remained for two hours shut up with M. Rodin." + +"My child, you must have been deceived." + +"I was told, madame, that the Abbe d'Aigrigny had called in the morning +to see M. Rodin; not finding him at home, he had left with the portress +his name written on a slip of paper, with the words, 'I shall return in +two hours.' The girl of whom I spoke, madame, had seen this slip of +paper. As all that concerns M. Rodin appears mysterious enough, she had +the curiosity to wait for M. d'Aigrigny in the porter's lodge, and, about +two hours afterwards, he indeed returned, and saw M. Rodin." + +"No, no," said Adrienne, shuddering; "it is impossible. There must be +some mistake." + +"I think not, madame; for, knowing how serious such a discovery would be, +I begged the young girl to describe to me the appearance of M. +d'Aigrigny." + +"Well?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, she told me, is about forty years of age. He is +tall and upright, dresses plainly, but with care; has gray eyes, very +large and piercing, thick eyebrows, chestnut-colored hair, a face closely +shaved, and a very decided aspect." + +"It is true," said Adrienne, hardly able to believe what she heard. "The +description is exact." + +"Wishing to have all possible details," resumed Mother Bunch, "I asked +the portress if M. Rodin and the Abbe d'Aigrigny appeared to be at +variance when they quitted the house? She replied no, but that the Abbe +said to M. Rodin, as they parted at the door: 'I will write to you +tomorrow, as agreed.'" + +"Is it a dream? Good heaven!" said Adrienne, drawing her hands across her +forehead in a sort of stupor. "I cannot doubt your word, my poor friend; +and yet it is M. Rodin who himself sent you to that house, to give +assistance to your sister: would he have wilfully laid open to you his +secret interviews with the Abbe d'Aigrigny? It would have been bad policy +in a traitor." + +"That is true, and the same reflection occurred to me. And yet the +meeting of these two men appeared so dangerous to you, madame, that I +returned home full of terror." + +Characters of extreme honesty are very hard to convince of the treachery +of others: the more infamous the deception, the more they are inclined to +doubt it. Adrienne was one of these characters, rectitude being a prime +quality of her mind. Though deeply impressed by the communication, she +remarked: "Come, my dear, do not let us frighten ourselves too soon, or +be over-hasty in believing evil. Let us try to enlighten ourselves by +reasoning, and first of all remember facts. M. Rodin opened for me the +doors of Dr. Baleinier's asylum; in my presence, he brought, his charge +against the Abbe d'Aigrigny; he forced the superior of the convent to +restore Marshal Simon's daughters, he succeeded in discovering the +retreat of Prince Djalma--he faithfully executed my intentions with +regard to my young cousin; only yesterday, he gave me the most useful +advice. All this is true--is it not?" + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Now suppose that M. Rodin, putting things in their worst light, had some +after-thought--that he hopes to be liberally rewarded, for instance; +hitherto, at least, he has shown complete disinterestedness." + +"That also is true, madame," said poor Mother Bunch, obliged, like +Adrienne, to admit the evidence of fixed facts. + +"Now let us look to the possibility of treachery. Unite with the Abbe +d'Aigrigny to betray me! Betray me?--how? and for what purpose? What have +I to fear? Is it not the Abbe d'Aigrigny, on the contrary, is it not +Madame de Saint-Dizier, who have to render an account for the injuries +they have done me?" + +"But, then, madame, how do you explain the meeting of these two men, who +have so many motives for mutual aversion? May there not be some dark +project still behind? Besides, madame, I am not the only one to think +so." + +"How is that?" + +"This morning, on my return, I was so much agitated, that Mdlle. Florine +asked me the cause of my trouble. I know, madame, how much she is devoted +to you." + +"Nobody could be more so; only recently, you yourself informed me of the +signal service she rendered, during my confinement at Dr. Baleinier's." + +"Well, madame, this morning, on my return, thinking it necessary to have +you informed as soon as possible, I told all to Mdlle. Florine. Like +me--even more, perhaps--she was terrified at the meeting of Rodin and M. +d'Aigrigny. + +"After a moment's reflection, she said to me: 'It is, I think, useless to +disturb my mistress at present; it can be of no importance whether she is +informed of this treachery two or three hours sooner or later; during +that time I may be able to discover something more. I have an idea, which +I think a good one. Make my excuses to my mistress; I shall soon be +back.' Then Florine sent for a hackney-coach, and went out." + +"Florine is an excellent girl," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, with a smile, +for further reflection had quite reassured her: "but, on this occasion, I +think that her zeal and good heart have deceived her, as they have you, +my poor friend. Do you know, that we are two madcaps, you and I, not to +have thought of one thing, which would have put us quite at our ease?" + +"How so, madame?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny fears M. Rodin; he may have sought him out, to +entreat his forbearance. Do you not find this explanation both +satisfactory and reasonable?" + +"Perhaps so, madame," said Mother Bunch, after a moment's reflection; +"yes, it is probable." But after another silence, and as if yielding to a +conviction superior to every possible argument, she exclaimed: "And yet, +no; believe me, madame, you are deceived. I feel it. All appearances may +be against what I affirm; yet, believe me, these presentiments are too +strong not to be true. And have you not guessed the most secret instincts +of my heart? Why should I not be able to guess the dangers with which you +are menaced?" + +"What do you say? what have I guessed?" replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, +involuntarily impressed by the other's tone of conviction and alarm. + +"What have you guessed?" resumed the latter. "All the troublesome +susceptibility of an unfortunate creature, to whom destiny has decreed a +life apart. If I have hitherto been silent, it is not from ignorance of +what I owe you. Who told you, madame, that the only way to make me accept +your favors without blushing, was to give me some employment, that would +enable me to soothe the misfortunes I had so long shared? Who told you, +when you wished me to have a seat at your table, and to treat as your +friend the poor needlewoman, in whose person you sought to honor, +resignation and honest industry--who told you, when I answered with tears +of gratitude and regret, that it was not false modesty, but a +consciousness of my own ridiculous deformity, that made me refuse your +offer? Who told you that, but for this, I should have accepted it +proudly, in the name of all my low-born sisters? But you replied to me +with the touching words: 'I understand your refusal, my friend; it is not +occasioned by false modesty, but by a sentiment of dignity that I love +and respect.' Who told you," continued the workgirl, with increasing +animation, "that I should be so happy to find a little solitary retreat +in this magnificent house, which dazzles me with its splendor? Who guided +you in the choice of the apartment (still far too good) that you have +provided for me? Who taught you, that, without envying the beauty of the +charming creatures that surround you, and whom I love because they love +you, I should always feel, by an involuntary comparison, embarrassed and +ashamed before them? Who told you therefore to send them away, whenever +you wished to speak with me? Yes! who has revealed to you all the painful +and secret susceptibilities of a position like mine! Who has revealed +them to you? God, no doubt! who in His infinite majesty creates worlds, +and yet cares for the poor little insect hidden beneath the grass. And +you think, that the gratitude of a heart you have understood so well, +cannot rise in its turn to the knowledge of what may be hurtful to you? +No, no, lady; some people have the instinct of self preservation; others +have the still more precious instinct that enables them to preserve those +they love. God has given me this instinct. I tell you that you are +betrayed!" And with animated look, and cheeks slightly colored with +emotion, the speaker laid such stress upon the last words, and +accompanied them with such energetic gesture, that Mdlle. de Cardoville +already shaken by the girl's warmth, began almost to share in her +apprehensions. Then, although she had before learned to appreciate the +superior intelligence of this poor child of the people, Mdlle. de +Cardoville had never till now heard her friend express herself with so +much eloquence--an eloquence, too, that was inspired by the noblest +sentiments. This circumstance added to the impression made upon Adrienne. +But at the moment she was about to answer, a knock was heard at the door +of the room, and Florine entered. + +On seeing the alarmed countenance of her waiting-maid, Mdlle. de +Cardoville said hastily: "Well, Florine! what news? Whence come you, my +child?" + +"From Saint-Dizier House, madame." + +"And why did you go there?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise. + +"This morning," said Florine, glancing at the workgirl, "madame, there, +confided to me her suspicions and uneasiness. I shared in them. The visit +of the Abbe d'Aigrigny to M. Rodin appeared to me very serious. I +thought, if it should turn out that M. Rodin had been during the last few +days to Saint-Dizier House, there would be no longer any doubt of his +treachery." + +"True," said Adrienne, more and more uneasy. "Well?" + +"As I had been charged to superintend the removal from the lodge, I knew +that several things had remained there. To obtain admittance, I had to +apply to Mrs. Grivois. I had thus a pretext for returning to the hotel." + +"What next, Florine, what next?" + +"I endeavored to get Mrs. Grivois to talk of M. Rodin; but it was in +vain." + +"She suspected you," said the workgirl. "It was to be anticipated." + +"I asked her," continued Florine, "if they had seen M. Rodin at the hotel +lately. She answered evasively. Then despairing of getting anything out +of her," continued Florine, "I left Mrs. Grivois, and that my visit might +excite no suspicion, I went to the pavilion--when, as I turn down the +avenue--whom do I see? why, M. Rodin himself, hastening towards the +little garden-door, wishing no doubt to depart unnoticed by that way." + +"Madame, you hear," cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with a +supplicating air; "such evidence should convince you." + +"M. Rodin at the Princess de Saint-Dizier's!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +whose glance, generally so mild, now suddenly flashed with vehement +indignation. Then she added, in a tone of considerable emotion, +"Continue, Florine." + +"At sight of M. Rodin, I stopped," proceeded Florine, "and keeping a +little on one side, I gained the pavilion without being seen. I looked +out into the street, through the closed blinds, and perceived a hackney +coach. It was waiting for M. Rodin, for, a minute after, he got into it, +saying to the coachman, 'No. 39, Rue Blanche.' + +"The prince's!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Yes, M. Rodin was to see him to-day," said Adrienne, reflecting. + +"No doubt he betrays you, madame, and the prince also; the latter will be +made his victim more easily than you." + +"Shame! shame!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, on a sudden, as she rose, all +her features contracted with painful anger. "After such a piece of +treachery, it is enough to make us doubt of everything--even of +ourselves." + +"Oh, madame! is it not dreadful?" said Mother Bunch, shuddering. + +"But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe +d'Aigrigny?" wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville. "Of a truth, it is enough to +make one lose one's reason. It is an abyss--but, oh! how frightful is +doubt!" + +"As I returned," said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion on +her mistress, "I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not a +minute to lose." + +"What do you mean?" said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise. + +"M. Rodin will soon be alone with the prince," said Florine. + +"No doubt," replied Adrienne. + +"The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse. It +is there that he will receive M. Rodin." + +"What then?" resumed Adrienne. + +"This greenhouse, which I had arranged according to your orders, has only +one issue--by a door leading into a little lane. The gardener gets in +that way every morning, so as not to have to pass through the apartments. +Having finished his work, he does not return thither during the day." + +"What do you mean? what is your project?" said Adrienne, looking at +Florine with growing surprise. + +"The plants are so disposed, that, I think, if even the shade were not +there, which screens the glass that separates the saloon from the +greenhouse, one might get near enough to hear what was passing in the +room, without being seen. When I was superintending the arrangements, I +always entered by this greenhouse door. The gardener had one key, and I +another. Luckily, I have not yet parted with mine. Within an hour, you +may know how far to trust M. Rodin. If he betrays the prince, he betrays +you also." + +"What say you?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Set out instantly with me; we reach the side door; I enter alone, for +precaution sake--if all is right, I return--" + +"You would have me turn spy?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, haughtily, +interrupting Florine. "You cannot think it. + +"I beg your pardon, madame," said the girl, casting down her eyes, with +confused and sorrowful air; "you had suspicions, and me seems 'tis the +only way to confirm or destroy them." + +"Stoop to listen to a conversation--never!" replied Adrienne. + +"Madame," said Mother Bunch, suddenly, after same moments' thought, +"permit me to tell you that Mdlle. Florine is right. The plan proposed is +a painful one, but it is the only way in which you can clear up, perhaps, +for ever, your doubts as to M. Rodin. Notwithstanding the evidence of +facts, in spite of the almost certainty of my presentiments, appearances +may deceive us. I was the first who accused M. Rodin to you. I should not +forgive myself all the rest of my life, did I accuse him wrongfully. +Beyond doubt, it is painful, as you say, madame, to listen to a +conversation--" Then, with a violent effort to console herself, she +added, as she strove to repress her tears, "Yet, as your safety is at +stake, madame--for, if this be treachery, the future prospect is +dreadful--I will go in your place--to--" + +"Not a word more, I entreat you," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +interrupting. "Let you, my poor friend, do for me what I thought +degrading to do myself? Never!" + +Then, turning to Florine, she added, "Tell M. de Bonneville to have the +carriage got ready on the instant." + +"You consent, then!" cried Florine, clasping her hands, and not seeking +to conceal her joy; and her eyes also became full of tears. + +"Yes, I consent," answered Adrienne, with emotion. "If it is to be +war--war to the knife, that they would wage with me--I must be prepared +for it; and, come to think of it, it would only be weakness and folly not +to put myself on my guard. No doubt this step costs me much, and is very +repugnant to me, but it is the only way to put an end to suspicions that +would be a continual torment to me, and perhaps to prevent still greater +evils. Yes! for many important reasons, this interview of M. Rodin with +Prince Djalma may be doubly decisive to me--as to the confidence, or the +inexorable hate, that I must henceforth feel for M. Rodin. So, Florine, +quick!--my cloak and bonnet, and the carriage. You will go with me. As +for you, my dear, pray wait for me here," she added, turning to the work +girl. + +Half an hour after this conversation, Adrienne's carriage stopped, as we +have before seen, at the little garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. Florine entered the greenhouse and soon returned to her +mistress. "The shade is down, madame. M. Rodin has just entered the +prince's room." Mdlle. de Cardoville was, therefore, present, though +invisible, at the following scene, which took place between Rodin and +Djalma. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THE LETTER. + +Some minutes before the entrance of Mdlle. de Cardoville into the +greenhouse, Rodin had been introduced by Faringhea into the presence of +the prince, who, still under the influence of the burning excitement into +which he had been plunged by the words of the half-caste, did not appear +to perceive the Jesuit. The latter, surprised at the animated expression +of Djalma's countenance, and his almost frantic air, made a sign of +interrogation to Faringhea, who answered him privately in the following +symbolical manner:--After laying his forefinger on his head and heart, he +pointed to the fire burning in the chimney, signifying by his pantomimic +action that the head and heart of Djalma were both in flames. No doubt +Rodin understood him, for an imperceptible smile of satisfaction played +upon his wan lips; then he said aloud to Faringhea, "I wish to be alone +with the prince. Let down the shade and see that we are not interrupted." +The half-caste bowed, and touched a spring near the sheet of plate-glass, +which slid into the wall as the blind descended; then, again bowing, +Faringhea left the room. It was shortly after that Mdlle. de Cardoville +and Florine entered the greenhouse, which was now only separated from the +room in which was Djalma, by the transparent thickness of a shade of +white silk, embroidered with large colored birds. The noise of the door, +which Faringhea closed as he went out, seemed to recall the young Indian +to himself; his features, though still animated, recovered their habitual +expression of mildness and gentleness; he started, drew his hand across +his brow, looked around him, as if waking up from a deep reverie, and +then, advancing towards Rodin, with an air as respectful as confused, he +said to him, using the expression commonly applied to old men in his +country, "Pardon me, father." Still following the customs of his nation, +so full of deference towards age, he took Rodin's hand to raise it to his +lips, but the Jesuit drew back a step, and refused his homage. + +"For what do you ask pardon, my dear prince?" said he to Djalma. + +"When you entered, I was in a dream; I did not come to meet you. Once +more, pardon me, father!" + +"Once more, I forgive you with all my heart, my dear prince. But let us +have some talk. Pray resume your place on the couch, and your pipe, too, +if you like it." + +But Djalma, instead of adopting the suggestion, and throwing himself on +the divan, according to his custom, insisted on seating himself in a +chair, notwithstanding all the persuasions of "the Old Man with the Good +Heart," as he always called the Jesuit. + +"Really, your politeness troubles me, my dear prince," said Rodin; "you +are here at home in India; at least, we wish you to think so." + +"Many things remind me of my country," said Djalma, in a mild grave tone. +"Your goodness reminds me of my father, and of him who was a father to +me," added the Indian, as he thought of Marshal Simon, whose arrival in +Paris had been purposely concealed from him. + +After a moment's silence, he resumed in a tone full of affectionate +warmth, as he stretched out his hand to Rodin, "You are come, and I am +happy!" + +"I understand your joy, my dear prince, for I come to take you out of +prison--to open your cage for you. I had begged you to submit to a brief +seclusion, entirely for your own interest." + +"Can I go out to-morrow?" + +"To-day, my dear prince, if you please." + +The young Indian reflected for a moment, and then resumed, "I must have +friends, since I am here in a palace that does not belong to me." + +"Certainly you have friends--excellent friends," answered Rodin. At these +words, Djalma's countenance seemed to acquire fresh beauty. The most +noble sentiments were expressed in his fine features; his large black +eyes became slightly humid, and, after another interval of silence, he +rose and said to Rodin with emotion: "Come!" + +"Whither, dear prince?" said the other, much surprised. + +"To thank my friends. I have waited three days. It is long." + +"Permit me dear prince--I have much to tell you on this subject--please +to be seated." + +Djalma resumed his seat with docility. Rodin continued: "It is true that +you have friends; or rather, you have a friend. Friends are rare." + +"What are you?" + +"Well, then, you have two friends, my dear prince--myself, whom you know, +and one other, whom you do not know, and who desires to remain unknown to +you." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" answered Rodin, after a moment's embarrassment. "Because the +happiness he feels in giving you these proofs of his friendship and even +his own tranquillity, depend upon preserving this mystery." + +"Why should there be concealment when we do good?" + +"Sometimes, to conceal the good we do, my dear prince." + +"I profit by this friendship; why should he conceal himself from one?" +These repeated questions of the young Indian appeared to puzzle Rodin, +who, however, replied: "I have told you, my dear prince, that your secret +friend would perhaps have his tranquillity compromised, if he were +known." + +"If he were known--as my friend?" + +"Exactly so, dear prince." + +The countenance of Djalma immediately assumed an appearance of sorrowful +dignity; he raised his head proudly, and said in a stern and haughty +voice: "Since this friend hides himself from me, he must either be +ashamed of me, or there is reason for me to be ashamed of him. I only +accept hospitality from those who are worthy of me, and who think me +worthy of them. I leave this house." So saying, Djalma rose with such an +air of determination, that Rodin exclaimed: "Listen to me, my dear +prince. Allow me to tell you, that your petulance and touchiness are +almost incredible. Though we have endeavored to remind you of your +beautiful country, we are here in Europe, in France, in the centre of +Paris. This consideration may perhaps a little modify your views. Listen +to me, I conjure you." + +Notwithstanding his complete ignorance of certain social +conventionalisms, Djalma had too much good sense and uprightness, not to +appreciate reason, when it appeared reasonable. The words of Rodin calmed +him. With that ingenuous modesty, with which natures full of strength and +generosity are almost always endowed, he answered mildly: "You are right, +father. I am no longer in my own country. Here the customs are different. +I will reflect upon it." + +Notwithstanding his craft and suppleness, Rodin sometimes found himself +perplexed by the wild and unforseen ideas of the young Indian. Thus he +saw, to his great surprise, that Djalma now remained pensive for some +minutes, after which he resumed in a calm but firm tone: "I have obeyed +you, father: I have reflected." + +"Well, my dear prince?" + +"In no country in the world, under no pretext, should a man of honor +conceal his friendship for another man of honor." + +"But suppose there should be danger in avowing this friendship?" said +Rodin, very uneasy at the turn the conversation was taking. Djalma eyed +the Jesuit with contemptuous astonishment, and made no reply. + +"I understand your silence, my dear prince: a brave man ought to defy +danger. True; but if it should be you that the danger threatens, in case +this friendship were discovered, would not your man of honor be +excusable, even praiseworthy, to persist in remaining unknown?" + +"I accept nothing from a friend, who thinks me capable of denying him +from cowardice." + +"Dear prince--listen to me." + +"Adieu, father." + +"Yet reflect!" + +"I have said it," replied Djalma, in an abrupt and almost sovereign tone, +as he walked towards the door. + +"But suppose a woman were concerned," cried Rodin, driven to extremity, +and hastening after the young Indian, for he really feared that Djalma +might rush from the house, and thus overthrow all his projects. + +At the last words of Rodin the Indian stopped abruptly. "A woman!" said +he, with a start, and turning red. "A woman is concerned?" + +"Why, yes! suppose it were a woman," resumed Rodin, "would you not then +understand her reserve, and the secrecy with which she is obliged to +surround the marks of affection she wishes to give you?" + +"A woman!" repeated Djalma, in a trembling voice, clasping his hands in +adoration; and his beautiful countenance was expressive of the deepest +emotion. "A woman!" said he again. "A Parisian?" + +"Yes, my dear prince, as you force me to this indiscretion, I will +confess to you that your friend is a real Parisian--a noble matron, +endowed with the highest virtues--whose age alone merits all your +respect." + +"She is very old, then?" cried poor Djalma, whose charming dream was thus +abruptly dispelled. + +"She may be a few years older than I am," answered Rodin, with an +ironical smile, expecting to see the young man express a sort of comical +disappointment or angry regret. + +But it was not so. To the passionate enthusiasm of love, which had for a +moment lighted up the prince's features, there now succeeded a respectful +and touching expression. He looked at Rodin with emotion, and said to him +in a broken voice: "This woman, is then, a mother to me?" + +It is impossible to describe with what a pious, melancholy, and tender +charm the Indian uttered the word mother. + +"You have it, my dear prince; this respectable lady wishes to be a mother +to you. But I may not reveal to you the cause of the affection she feels +for you. Only, believe me--this affection is sincere, and the cause +honorable. If I do not tell you her secret, it is that, with us, the +secrets of women, young or old, are equally sacred." + +"That is right, and I will respect it. Without seeing her, I will love +her--as I love God, without seeing Him." + +"And now, my dear prince, let me tell you what are the intentions of your +maternal friend. This house will remain at your disposal, as long as you +like it; French servants, a carriage, and horses, will be at your orders; +the charges of your housekeeping will be paid for you. Then, as the son +of a king should live royalty, I have left in the next room a casket +containing five hundred Louis; every month a similar sum will be +provided: if it should not be found sufficient for your little +amusements, you will tell me, and it shall be augmented." + +At a movement of Djalma, Rodin hastened to add: "I must tell you at once, +my dear prince, that your delicacy may be quite at ease. First of all, +you may accept anything from a mother; next, as in about three months you +will come into possession of an immense inheritance, it will be easy for +you, if you feel the obligation a burden--and the sum cannot exceed, at +the most, four or five thousand Louis--to repay these advances. Spare +nothing, then, but satisfy all your fancies. You are expected to appear +in the great world of Paris, in a style becoming the son of a king who +was called the Father of the Generous. So once again I conjure you not to +be restrained by a false delicacy; if this sum should not be +sufficient--" + +"I will ask for more. My mother is right; the son of a monarch ought to +live royally." + +Such was the answer of the Indian, made with perfect simplicity, and +without any appearance of astonishment at these magnificent offers. This +was natural. Djalma would have done for others what they were doing for +him, for the traditions of the prodigal magnificence and splendid +hospitality of Indian princes are well known. Djalma had been as moved as +grateful, on hearing that a woman loved him with maternal affection. As +for the luxury with which she nought to surround him, he accepted it +without astonishment and without scruple. This resignation, again, +somewhat disconcerted Rodin, who had prepared many excellent arguments to +persuade the Indian to accept his offers. + +"Well, then, it's all agreed, my dear prince," resumed the Jesuit. "Now, +as you must see the world, it's just as well to enter by the best door, +as we say. One of the friends of your maternal protectress, the Count de +Montbron, an old nobleman of the greatest experience, and belonging to +the first society, will introduce you in some of the best houses in +Paris." + +"Will you not introduce me, father?" + +"Alas! my dear prince, look at me. Tell me, if you think I am fitted for +such an office. No! no; I live alone and retired from the world. And +then," added Rodin, after a short silence, fixing a penetrating, +attentive, and curious look upon the prince, as if he would have +subjected him to a sort of experiment by what follows; "and then, you +see, M. de Montbron will be better able than I should, in the world you +are about to enter, to enlighten you as to the snares that will be laid +for you. For if you have friends, you have also enemies--cowardly +enemies, as you know, who have abused your confidence in an infamous +manner, and have made sport of you. And as, unfortunately, their power is +equal to their wickedness, it would perhaps be more prudent in you to try +to avoid them--to fly, instead of resisting them openly." + +At the remembrance of his enemies, at the thought of flying from them, +Djalma trembled in every limb; his features became of a lurid paleness; +his eyes wide open, so that the pupil was encircled with white, sparkled +with lurid fire; never had scorn, hatred, and the desire of vengeance, +expressed themselves so terribly on a human face. His upper lip, blood +red, was curled convulsively, exposing a row of small, white, and close +set teeth, and giving to his countenance lately so charming, an air of +such animal ferocity, that Rodin started from his seat, and exclaimed: +"What is the matter, prince? You frighten me." + +Djalma did not answer. Half leaning forward, with his hands clinched in +rage, he seemed to cling to one of the arms of the chair, for fear of +yielding to a burst of terrific fury. At this moment, the amber +mouthpiece of his pipe rolled, by chance, under one of his feet; the +violent tension, which contracted all the muscles of the young Indian, +was so powerful, and notwithstanding his youth and his light figure, he +was endowed with such vigor, that with one abrupt stamp he powdered to +dust the piece of amber, in spite of its extreme hardness. + +"In the name of heaven, what is the matter, prince?" cried Rodin. + +"Thus would I crush my cowardly enemies!" exclaimed Djalma, with menacing +and excited look. Then, as if these words had brought his rage to a +climax, he bounded from his seat, and, with haggard eyes, strode about +the room for some seconds in all directions, as if he sought for some +weapon, and uttered from time to time a hoarse cry, which he endeavored +to stifle by thrusting his clinched fist against his mouth, whilst his +jaws moved convulsively. It was the impotent rage of a wild beast, +thirsting for blood. Yet, in all this, the young Indian preserved a great +and savage beauty; it was evident that these instincts of sanguinary +ardor and blind intrepidity, now excited to this pitch by horror of +treachery and cowardice, when applied to war, or to those gigantic Indian +hunts, which are even more bloody than a battle, must make of Djalma what +he really was a hero. + +Rodin admired, with deep and ominous joy, the fiery impetuosity of +passion in the young Indian, for, under various conceivable +circumstances, the effect must be terrible. Suddenly, to the Jesuit's +great surprise, the tempest was appeased. Djalma's fury was calmed thus +instantaneously, because refection showed him how vain it was: ashamed of +his childish violence, he cast down his eyes. His countenance remained +pale and gloomy; and, with a cold tranquillity, far more formidable than +the violence to which he had yielded, he said to Rodin: "Father, you will +this day lead me to meet my enemies." + +"In what end, my dear prince? What would you do?" + +"Kill the cowards!" + +"Kill them! you must not think of it." + +"Faringhea will aid me." + +"Remember, you are not on the banks of the Ganges, and here one does not +kill an enemy like a hunted tiger." + +"One fights with a loyal enemy, but one kills a traitor like an accursed +dog," replied Djalma, with as much conviction as tranquillity. + +"Ah, prince, whose father was the Father of the Generous," said Rodin, in +a grave voice; "what pleasure can you find in striking down creatures as +cowardly as they are wicked?" + +"To destroy what is dangerous, is a duty." + +"So prince, you seek for revenge." + +"I do not revenge myself on a serpent," said the Indian, with haughty +bitterness; "I crush it." + +"But, my dear prince, here we cannot get rid of our enemies in that +manner. If we have cause of complaint--" + +"Women and children complain," said Djalma, interrupting Rodin: "men +strike." + +"Still on the banks of the Ganges, my dear prince. Here society takes +your cause into its own hands, examines, judges, and if there be good +reason, punishes." + +"In my own quarrel, I am both judge and executioner." + +"Pray listen to me; you have escaped the odious snares of your enemies, +have you not?--Well! suppose it were thanks to the devotion of the +venerable woman who has for you the tenderness of a mother, and that she +were to ask you to forgive them--she, who saved you from their +hands--what would you do then?" + +The Indian hung his head, and was silent. Profiting by his hesitation, +Rodin continued: "I might say to you that I know your enemies, but that +in the dread of seeing you commit some terrible imprudence, I would +conceal their names from you forever. But no! I swear to you, that if the +respectable person, who loves you as her son, should find it either right +or useful that I should tell you their names, I will do so--until she has +pronounced, I must be silent." + +Djalma looked at Rodin with a dark and wrathful air. At this moment, +Faringhea entered, and said to Rodin: "A man with a letter, not finding +you at home, has been sent on here. Am I to receive it? He says it comes +from the Abbe d'Aigrigny. + +"Certainly," answered Rodin. "That is," he added, "with the prince's +permission." + +Djalma nodded in reply; Faringhea went out. + +"You will excuse what I have done, dear prince. I expected this morning a +very important letter. As it was late in coming to hand, I ordered it to +be sent on." + +A few minutes after, Faringhea returned with the letter, which he +delivered to Rodin--and the half-caste again withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +ADRIENNE AND DJALMA. + +When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbe +d'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be looking for +something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in the pocket +behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what he sought, he +laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over with both hands, +with an air of regret and uneasiness. The divers movements of this +pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned by the +exclamations. + +"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!" + +"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in +which he had been plunged for some minutes. + +"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile +accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I have forgotten +or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the very poor eyesight +that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely impossible for me +to read this most important letter--and an immediate answer is +expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Times presses; it +is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying great stress on his +words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince might remark it; +"if only some one would render me the service to read it for me; but +there is no one--no--one!" + +"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I have +finished it, I shall forget what I have read." + +"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared to +him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to read +this letter." + +"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly. + +"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if speaking +to himself, "why not?" + +And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, my +dear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service." + +So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud as +follows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only be +considered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part. + +"'Here is the last proposition I have to make. It may be as fruitless as +the step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis. + +"'After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would write +to you. I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum. + +"'First of all, a piece of advice. Beware! If you are determined to +maintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatred of +those whom you so foolishly seek to protect. There are a thousand ways to +ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects. It will be +proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which you now pretend +to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" Though Djalma had +the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subject of this +letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbear turning his +head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the last passage. + +"Oh, yes! it relates to me. Such as you see me, my dear prince," added +he, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity." + +"And who are these people that you protect?" + +"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if he had been +embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect? Hem--hem--I will +tell you. They are poor devils without resources; good people without a +penny, having only a just cause on their side, in a lawsuit in which they +are engaged. They are threatened with destruction by powerful +parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latter are known to +me, and I am able to unmask them. What else could have been? Being myself +poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the side of the poor and weak. +But continue, I beg of you." + +Djalma resumed: "'You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persist +in your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whom +you call your friends. They might more justly be termed your dupes, for +your disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere. It must +therefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity. + +"'Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you ample +compensation--with this difference, that your hopes are now entirely +founded on the probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtful chance +at the best, whereas our offers will be realized on the instant. To speak +clearly, this is what we ask, what we exact of you. This very night, +before twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to return for six +months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, and looked at +Rodin. + +"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would be +judged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them. You see +how it is, my dear prince," added Rodin, with bitter indignation. "But +please continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though, +indeed, such impudence disgusts me." + +Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Paris for +six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends in Germany. +You will there be received with generous hospitality, but forcibly +detained until the expiration of the term.'" + +"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin. + +"'On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francs +a month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francs +down, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole to be +completely secured to you. Finally, at the end of the six months, we will +place you in a position both honorable and independent.'" + +Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said to +him: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince. Read to the end, and it +will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of our civilization." + +Djalma resumed: "'You know well enough the course of affairs, and what we +are, to feel that in providing for your absence, we only wish to get rid +of an enemy, not very dangerous, but rather troublesome. Do not be +blinded by your first success. The results of your denunciation will be +stifled, because they are calumnious. The judge who received your +evidence will soon repent his odious partiality. You may make what use +you please of this letter. We know what we write, to whom we write, and +how we write. You will receive this letter at three o'clock; if by four +o'clock we have not your full and complete acceptance, written with your +own hand at the bottom of this letter, war must commence between us--and +not from to-morrow, but on the instant.'" + +Having finished reading the letter, Djalma looked at Rodin, who said to +him: "Permit me to summon Faringhea." + +He rang the bell, and the half-caste appeared. Rodin took the letter from +the hands of Djalma, tore it into halves, rubbed it between his palms, so +as to make a sort of a ball, and said to the half-caste, as he returned +it to him: "Give this palter to the person who waits for it, and tell him +that is my only answer to his shameless and insolent letter; you +understand me--this shameless and insolent letter." + +"I understand." said the half-caste; and he went out. + +"This will perhaps be a dangerous war for you, father, said the Indian, +with interest. + +"Yes, dear prince, it may be dangerous, but I am not like you; I have no +wish to kill my enemies, because they are cowardly and wicked. I fight +them under the shield of the law. Imitate me in this." Then, seeing that +the countenance of Djalma darkened, he added: "I am wrong. I will advise +you no more on this subject. Only, let us defer the decision to the +judgment of your noble and motherly protectress. I shall see her to +morrow; if she consents, I will tell you the names of your enemies. If +not--not." + +"And this woman, this second mother," said Djalma, "is her character +such, that I can rely on her judgment?" + +"She!" cried Rodin, clasping his hands, and speaking with increased +excitement. "Why, she is the most noble, the most generous, the most +valiant being upon earth!--why, if you were really her son, and she loved +you with all the strength of maternal affection, and a case arose in +which you had to choose between an act of baseness and death, she would +say to you: 'Die!' though she might herself die with you." + +"Oh, noble woman! so was my mother!" cried Djalma, with enthusiasm. + +"Yes," resumed Rodin, with growing energy, as he approached the window +concealed by the shade, towards which he threw an oblique and anxious +glance, "if you would imagine your protectress, think only of courage, +uprightness, and loyalty personified. Oh! she has the chivalrous +frankness of the brave man, joined with the high-souled dignity of the +woman, who not only never in her life told a falsehood, never concealed a +single thought, but who would rather die than give way to the least of +those sentiments of craft and dissimulation, which are almost forced upon +ordinary women by the situation in which they are placed." + +It is difficult to express the admiration which shone upon the +countenance of Djalma, as he listened to this description. His eyes +sparkled, his cheeks glowed, his heart palpitated with enthusiasm. + +"That is well, noble heart!" said Rodin to him, drawing still nearer to +the blind; "I love to see your soul sparkle through your eyes, on hearing +me speak thus of your unknown protectress. Oh! but she is worthy of the +pious adoration which noble hearts and great characters inspire!" + +"Oh! I believe you," cried Djalma, with enthusiasm; "my heart is full of +admiration and also of astonishment, for my mother is no more, and yet +such a woman exists!" + +"Yes, she exists. For the consolation of the afflicted, for the glory of +her sex, she exists. For the honor of truth, and the shame of falsehood, +she exists. No lie, no disguise, has ever tainted her loyalty, brilliant +and heroic as the sword of a knight. It is but a few days ago that this +noble woman spoke to me these admirable words, which, in all my life, I +shall not forget: 'Sir,' she said, 'if ever I suspect any one that I love +or esteem--'" + +Rodin did not finish. The shade, so violently shaken that the spring +broke, was drawn up abruptly, and, to the great astonishment of Djalma, +Mdlle. de Cardoville appeared before him. Adrienne's cloak had fallen +from her shoulders, and in the violence of the movement with which she +had approached the blind, her bonnet, the strings of which were untied, +had also fallen. Having left home suddenly, with only just time to throw +a mantle over the picturesque and charming costume which she often chose +to wear when alone, she appeared so radiant with beauty to Djalma's +dazzled eyes, in the centre of those leaves and flowers, that the Indian +believed himself under the influence of a dream. + +With clasped hands, eyes wide open, the body slightly bent forward, as if +in the act of prayer, he stood petrified with admiration, Mdlle. de +Cardoville, much agitated, and her countenance glowing with emotion, +remained on the threshold of the greenhouse, without entering the room. +All this had passed in less time than it takes to describe it. Hardly had +the blind been raised, than Rodin, feigning surprise, exclaimed: "You +here, madame?" + +"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, in an agitated voice, "I come to terminate the +phrase which you have commenced. I told you, that when a suspicion +crossed my mind, I uttered it aloud to the person by whom it was +inspired. Well! I confess it: I have failed in this honesty. I came here +as a spy upon you, when your answer to the Abbe d'Aigrigny was giving me +a new pledge of your devotion and sincerity. I doubted your uprightness +at the moment when you were bearing testimony to my frankness. For the +first time in my life, I stooped to deceit; this weakness merits +punishment, and I submit to it--demands reparation, and I make it--calls +for apologies, and I tender them to you." Then turning towards Djalma, +she added: "Now, prince, I am no longer mistress of my secret. I am your +relation, Mdlle. de Cardoville; and I hope you will accept from a sister +the hospitality that you did not refuse from a mother." + +Djalma made no reply. Plunged in ecstatic contemplation of this sudden +apparition, which surpassed his wildest and most dazzling visions, he +felt a sort of intoxication, which, paralyzing the power of thought, +concentrated all his faculties in the one sense of sight; and just as we +sometimes seek in vain to satisfy unquenchable thirst, the burning look +of the Indian sought, as it were, with devouring avidity, to take in all +the rare perfections of the young lady. Verily, never had two more divine +types of beauty met face to face. Adrienne and Djalma were the very ideal +of a handsome youth and maiden. There seemed to be something providential +in the meeting of these two natures, so young and so vivacious, so +generous and so full of passion, so heroic and so proud, who, before +coming into contact, had, singularly enough, each learned the moral worth +of the other; for if, at the words of Rodin, Djalma had felt arise in his +heart an admiration, as lively as it was sudden, for the valiant and +generous qualities of that unknown benefactress, whom he now discovered +in Mdlle. de Cardoville, the latter had, in her turn, been moved, +affected, almost terrified, by the interview she had just overheard, in +which Djalma had displayed the nobleness of his soul, the delicate +goodness of his heart, and the terrible transports of his temper. Then +she had not been able to repress a movement of astonishment, almost +admiration, at sight of the surprising beauty of the prince; and soon +after, a strange, painful sentiment, a sort of electric shock, seemed to +penetrate all her being, as her eyes encountered Djalma's. + +Cruelly agitated, and suffering deeply from this agitation, she tried to +dissemble the impression she had received, by addressing Rodin, to +apologize for having suspected him. But the obstinate silence of the +Indian redoubled the lady's painful embarrassment. Again raising her eyes +towards the prince, to invite him to respond to her fraternal offer, she +met his ardent gaze wildly fixed upon her, and she looked once more with +a mixture of fear, sadness, and wounded pride; then she congratulated +herself on having foreseen the inexorable necessity of keeping Djalma at +a distance from her, such apprehension did this ardent and impetuous +nature already inspire. Wishing to put an end to her present painful +situation, she said to Rodin, in a low and trembling voice, "Pray, sir, +speak to the prince; repeat to him my offers. I cannot remain longer." So +saying, Adrienne turned, as if to rejoin Florine. But, at the first step, +Djalma sprang towards her with the bound of a tiger, about to be deprived +of his prey. Terrified by the expression of wild excitement which +inflamed the Indian's countenance, the young lady drew back with a loud +scream. + +At this, Djalma remembered himself, and all that had passed. Pale with +regret and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears, and +all his features marked with an expression of the most touching despair, +he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped hands towards her, +said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain! remain! do not +leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer, uttered with +the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation which contrasted +strangely with the savage violence that had so frightened Adrienne, she +replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare for their departure: +"Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longer here." + +"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "I +shall see you again?" + +"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice. +Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma, +Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse. + +Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at the moment +she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice: "To-morrow +we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in every limb, and, +without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress, behind the +plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees, with his +head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neither rage nor +excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. Seeing Rodin approach +him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he could hardly reach +the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in his hands. + +Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone: "Alas! +I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see your benefactress; +and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dear prince?" + +Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turned +towards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears. + +"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it is so +easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you that +misfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionately +loves a handsome young man of this town." + +Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as if +he felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw back his +head, and fell fainting upon the divan. + +Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he went +away, brushing his old hat with his elbow, + +"Come! it works--it works!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE CONSULTATION. + +It is night. It has just struck nine. It is the evening of that day on +which Mdlle. de Cardoville first found herself in the presence of Djalma. +Florine, pale, agitated, trembling, with a candle in her hand, had just +entered a bedroom, plainly but comfortably furnished. This room was one +of the apartments occupied by Mother Bunch, in Adrienne's house. They +were situated on the ground-floor, and had two entrances. One opened on +the garden, and the other on the court-yard. From this side came the +persons who applied to the workgirl for succor; an ante-chamber in which +they waited, a parlor in which they were received, constituted Mother +Bunch's apartments, along with the bedroom, which Florine had just +entered, looking about her with an anxious and alarmed air, scarcely +touching the carpet with the tips of her satin shoes, holding her breath, +and listening at the least noise. + +Placing the candle upon the chimney-piece, she took a rapid survey of the +chamber, and approached the mahogany desk, surmounted by a well-filled +bookcase. The key had been left in the drawers of this piece of +furniture, and they were all three examined by Florine. They contained +different petitions from persons in distress, and various, notes in the +girl's handwriting. This was not what Florine wanted. Three cardboard +boxes were placed in pigeon-holes beneath the bookcase. These also were +vainly explored, and Florine, with a gesture of vexation, looked and +listened anxiously; then, seeing a chest of drawers, she made therein a +fresh and useless search. Near the foot of the bed was a little door, +leading to a dressing-room. Florine entered it, and looked--at first +without success--into a large wardrobe, in which were suspended several +black dresses, recently made for Mother Bunch, by order of Mdlle. de +Cardoville. Perceiving, at the bottom of this wardrobe, half hidden +beneath a cloak, a very shabby little trunk, Florine opened it hastily, +and found there, carefully folded up, the poor old garments in which the +work-girl had been clad when she first entered this opulent mansion. + +Florine started--an involuntary emotion contracted her features; but +considering that she had not liberty to indulge her feelings, but only to +obey Rodin's implacable orders, she hastily closed both trunk and +wardrobe, and leaving the dressing-room, returned into the bed-chamber. +After having again examined the writing-stand, a sudden idea occurred to +her. Not content with once more searching the cardboard boxes, she drew +out one of them from the pigeon-hole, hoping to find what she sought +behind the box: her first attempt failed, but the second was more +successful. She found behind the middle box a copy-book of considerable +thickness. She started in surprise, for she had expected something else; +yet she took the manuscript, opened it, and rapidly turned over the +leaves. After having perused several pages, she manifested her +satisfaction, and seemed as if about to put the book in her pocket; but +after a moment's reflection, she replaced it where she had found it, +arranged everything in order, took her candle, and quitted the apartment +without being discovered--of which, indeed, she had felt pretty sure, +knowing that Mother Bunch would be occupied with Mdlle. de Cardoville for +some hours. + +The day after Florine's researches, Mother Bunch, alone in her bed +chamber, was seated in an arm-chair, close to a good fire. A thick carpet +covered the floor; through the window-curtains could be seen the lawn of +a large garden; the deep silence was only interrupted by the regular +ticking of a clock, and the crackling of the wood. Her hands resting on +the arms of the chair, she gave way to a feeling of happiness, such as +she had never so completely enjoyed since she took up her residence at +the hotel. For her, accustomed so long to cruel privations, there was a +kind of inexpressible charm in the calm silence of this retreat--in the +cheerful aspect of the garden, and above all, in the consciousness that +she was indebted for this comfortable position, to the resignation and +energy she had displayed, in the thick of the many severe trials which +now ended so happily. An old woman, with a mild and friendly countenance, +who had been, by express desire of Adrienne, attached to the hunchback's +service, entered the room and said to her: "Mademoiselle, a young man +wishes to speak to you on pressing business. He gives his name as +Agricola Baudoin." + +At this name, Mother Bunch uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy, +blushed slightly, rose and ran to the door which led to the parlor in +which was Agricola. + +"Good-morning, dear sister," said the smith, cordially embracing the +young girl, whose cheeks burned crimson beneath those fraternal kisses. + +"Ah, me!" cried the sempstress on a sudden, as she looked anxiously at +Agricola; "what is that black band on your forehead? You have been +wounded!" + +"A mere nothing," said the smith, "really nothing. Do not think of it. I +will tell you all about that presently. But first, I have things of +importance to communicate." + +"Come into my room, then; we shall be alone," Mother Bunch, as she went +before Agricola. + +Notwithstanding the expression of uneasiness which was visible on the +countenance of Agricola, he could not forbear smiling with pleasure as he +entered the room and looked around him. + +"Excellent, my poor sister! this is how I would always have you lodged. I +recognize here the hand of Mdlle. de Cardoville. What a heart! what a +noble mind!--Dost know, she wrote to me the day before yesterday, to +thank me for what I had done for her, and sent me a gold pin (very +plain), which she said I need not hesitate to accept, as it had no other +value but that of having been worn by her mother! You can't tell how much +I was affected by the delicacy of this gift!" + +"Nothing must astonish you from a heart like hers," answered the +hunchback. "But the wound--the wound?" + +"Presently, my good sister; I have so many things to tell you. Let us +begin by what is most pressing, for I want you to give me some good +advice in a very serious case. You know how much confidence I have in +your excellent heart and judgment. And then, I have to ask of you a +service--oh! a great service," added the smith, in an earnest, and almost +solemn tone, which astonished his hearer. "Let us begin with what is not +personal to myself." + +"Speak quickly." + +"Since my mother went with Gabriel to the little country curacy he has +obtained, and since my father lodges with Marshal Simon and the young +ladies, I have resided, you know, with my mates, at M. Hardy's factory, +in the common dwelling-house. Now, this morning but first, I must tell +you that M. Hardy, who has lately returned from a journey, is again +absent for a few days on business. This morning, then, at the hour of +breakfast, I remained at work a little after the last stroke of the bell; +I was leaving the workshop to go to our eating-room, when I saw entering +the courtyard, a lady who had just got out of a hackney-coach. I remarked +that she was fair, though her veil was half down; she had a mild and +pretty countenance, and her dress was that of a fashionable lady. Struck +with her paleness, and her anxious, frightened air, I asked her if she +wanted anything. 'Sir,' said she to me, in a trembling voice, and as if +with a great effort, 'do you belong to this factory?'--'Yes, +madame.'--'M. Hardy is then in clanger?' she exclaimed.--'M. Hardy, +madame? He has not yet returned home.'--'What!' she went on, 'M. Hardy +did not come hither yesterday evening? Was he not dangerously wounded by +some of the machinery?' As she said these words, the poor young lady's +lips trembled, and I saw large tears standing in her eyes. 'Thank God, +madame! all this is entirely false,' said I, 'for M. Hardy has not +returned, and indeed is only expected by to-morrow or the day +after.'--'You are quite sure that he has not returned! quite sure that he +is not hurt?' resumed the pretty young lady, drying her eyes.--'Quite +sure, madame; if M. Hardy were in danger, I should not be so quiet in +talking to you about him.'--'Oh! thank God! thank God!' cried the young +lady. Then she expressed to me her gratitude, with so happy, so feeling +an air, that I was quite touched by it. But suddenly, as if then only she +felt ashamed of the step she had taken, she let down her veil, left me +precipitately, went out of the court-yard, and got once more into the +hackney-coach that had brought her. I said to myself: 'This is a lady who +takes great interest in M. Hardy, and has been alarmed by a false +report."' + +"She loves him, doubtless," said Mother Bunch, much moved, "and, in her +anxiety, she perhaps committed an act of imprudence, in coming to inquire +after him." + +"It is only too true. I saw her get into the coach with interests, for +her emotion had infected me. The coach started--and what did I see a few +seconds after? A cab, which the young lady could not have perceived, for +it had been hidden by an angle of the wall; and, as it turned round the +corner, I distinguished perfectly a man seated by the driver's side, and +making signs to him to take the same road as the hackney-coach." + +"The poor young lady was followed," said Mother Bunch, anxiously. + +"No doubt of it; so I instantly hastened after the coach, reached it, and +through the blinds that were let down, I said to the young lady, whilst I +kept running by the side of the coach door: 'Take care, madame; you are +followed by a cab. + +"Well, Agricola! and what did she answer?" + +"I heard her exclaim, 'Great Heaven!' with an accent of despair. The +coach continued its course. The cab soon came up with me; I saw, by the +side of the driver, a great, fat, ruddy man, who, having watched me +running after the coach, no doubt suspected something, for he looked at +me somewhat uneasily." + +"And when does M. Hardy return?" asked the hunchback. + +"To-morrow, or the day after. Now, my good sister, advise me. It is +evident that this young lady loves M. Hardy. She is probably married, for +she looked so embarrassed when she spoke to me, and she uttered a cry of +terror on learning that she was followed. What shall I do? I wished to +ask advice of Father Simon, but he is so very strict in such matters--and +then a love affair, at his age!--while you are so delicate and sensible, +my good sister, that you will understand it all." + +The girl started, and smiled bitterly; Agricola did not perceive it, and +thus continued: "So I said to myself, 'There is only Mother Bunch, who +can give me good advice.' Suppose M. Hardy returns to-morrow, shall I +tell him what has passed or not?" + +"Wait a moment," cried the other, suddenly interrupting Agricola, and +appearing to recollect something; "when I went to St. Mary's Convent, to +ask for work of the superior, she proposed that I should be employed by +the day, in a house in which I was to watch or, in other words, to act as +a spy--" + +"What a wretch!" + +"And do you know," said the girl, "with whom I was to begin this odious +trade? Why, with a Madame de-Fremont, or de Bremont, I do not remember +which, a very religious woman, whose daughter, a young married lady, +received visits a great deal too frequent (according to the superior) +from a certain manufacturer." + +"What do you say?" cried Agricola. "This manufacturer must be--" + +"M. Hardy. I had too many reasons to remember that name, when it was +pronounced by the superior. Since that day, so many other events have +taken place, that I had almost forgotten the circumstance. But it is +probable that this young lady is the one of whom I heard speak at the +convent." + +"And what interest had the superior of the convent to set a spy upon +her?" asked the smith. + +"I do not know; but it is clear that the same interest still exists, +since the young lady was followed, and perhaps, at this hour, is +discovered and dishonored. Oh! it is dreadful!" Then, seeing Agricola +start suddenly, Mother Bunch added: "What, then, is the matter?" + +"Yes--why not?" said the smith, speaking to himself; "why may not all +this be the work of the same hand? The superior of a convent may have a +private understanding with an abbe--but, then, for what end?" + +"Explain yourself, Agricola," said the girl. "And then,--where did you +get your wound? Tell me that, I conjure you." + +"It is of my wound that I am just going to speak; for in truth, the more +I think of it, the more this adventure of the young lady seems to connect +itself with other facts." + +"How so?" + +"You must know that, for the last few days, singular things are passing +in the neighborhood of our factory. First, as we are in Lent, an abbe +from Paris (a tall, fine-looking man, they say) has come to preach in the +little village of Villiers, which is only a quarter of a league from our +works. The abbe has found occasion to slander and attack M. Hardy in his +sermons." + +"How is that?" + +"M. Hardy has printed certain rules with regard to our work, and the +rights and benefits he grants us. These rules are followed by various +maxims as noble as they are simple; with precepts of brotherly love such +as all the world can understand, extracted from different philosophies +and different religions. But because M. Hardy has chosen what is best in +all religions, the abbe concludes that M. Hardy has no religion at all, +and he has therefore not only attacked him for this in the pulpit, but +has denounced our factory as a centre of perdition and damnable +corruption, because, on Sundays, instead of going to listen to his +sermons, or to drink at a tavern, our comrades, with their wives and +children, pass their time in cultivating their little gardens, in +reading, singing in chorus, or dancing together in the common dwelling +house. The abbe has even gone so far as to say, that the neighborhood of +such an assemblage of atheists, as he calls us, might draw down the anger +of Heaven upon the country--that the hovering of Cholera was much talked +of, and that very possibly, thanks to our impious presence, the plague +might fall upon all our neighborhood." + +"But to tell such things to ignorant people," exclaimed Mother Bunch, "is +likely to excite them to fatal actions." + +"That is just what the abbe wants." + +"What do you tell me?" + +"The people of the environs, still more excited, no doubt by other +agitators, show themselves hostile to the workmen of our factory. Their +hatred, or at least their envy, has been turned to account. Seeing us +live all together, well lodged, well warmed, and comfortably clad, +active, gay, and laborious, their jealousy has been embittered by the +sermons, and by the secret manoeuvres of some depraved characters, who +are known to be bad workmen, in the employment of M. Tripeaud, our +opposition. All this excitement is beginning to bear fruit; there have +been already two or three fights between us and our neighbors. It was in +one of these skirmishes that I received a blow with a stone on my head." + +"Is it not serious, Agricola?--are you quite sure?" said Mother Bunch, +anxiously. + +"It is nothing at all, I tell you. But the enemies of M. Hardy have not +confined themselves to preaching. They have brought into play something +far more dangerous." + +"What is that?" + +"I, and nearly all my comrades, did our part in the three Revolutionary +days of July; but we are not eager at present, for good reasons, to take +up arms again. That is not everybody's opinion; well, we do not blame +others, but we have our own ideas; and Father Simon, who is as brave as +his son, and as good a patriot as any one, approves and directs us. Now, +for some days past, we find all about the factory, in the garden, in the +courts, printed papers to this effect: 'You are selfish cowards; because +chance has given you a good master, you remain indifferent to the +misfortunes of your brothers, and to the means of freeing them; material +comforts have enervated your hearts.'" + +"Dear me, Agricola! what frightful perseverance in wickedness!" + +"Yes! and unfortunately these devices have their effect on some of our +younger mates. As the appeal was, after all, to proud and generous +sentiments, it has had some influence. Already, seeds of division have +shown themselves in our workshops, where, before, all were united as +brothers. A secret agitation now reigns there. Cold suspicion takes the +place, with some, of our accustomed cordiality. Now, if I tell you that I +am nearly sure these printed papers, thrown over the walls of our +factory, to raise these little sparks of discord amongst us, have been +scattered about by the emissaries of this same preaching abbe--would it +not seem from all this, taken in conjunction with what happened this +morning to the young lady, that M. Hardy has of late numerous enemies?" + +"Like you, I think it very fearful, Agricola," said the girl; "and it is +so serious, that M. Hardy alone can take a proper decision on the +subject. As for what happened this morning to the young lady, it appears +to me, that, immediately on M. Hardy's return, you should ask for an +interview with him, and, however delicate such a communication may be, +tell him all that passed." + +"There is the difficulty. Shall I not seem as if wishing to pry into his +secrets?" + +"If the young lady had not been followed, I should have shared your +scruples. But she was watched, and is evidently in danger. It is +therefore, in my opinion, your duty to warn M. Hardy. Suppose (which is +not improbable) that the lady is married; would it not be better, for a +thousand reasons, that M. Hardy should know all?" + +"You are right, my good sister; I will follow your advice. M. Hardy shall +know everything. But now that we have spoken of others, I have to speak +of myself--yes, of myself--for it concerns a matter, on which may depend +the happiness of my whole life," added the smith, in a tone of +seriousness, which struck his hearer. "You know," proceeded Agricola, +after a moment's silence, "that, from my childhood, I have never +concealed anything from you--that I have told you everything--absolutely +everything?" + +"I know it, Agricola, I know it," said the hunchback, stretching out her +white and slender hand to the smith, who grasped it cordially, and thus +continued: "When I say everything, I am not quite exact--for I have +always concealed from you my little love-affairs--because, though we may +tell almost anything to a sister, there are subjects of which we ought +not to speak to a good and virtuous girl, such as you are." + +"I thank you, Agricola. I had remarked this reserve on your part," +observed the other, casting down her eyes, and heroically repressing the +grief she felt; "I thank you." + +"But for the very reason, that I made it a duty never to speak to you of +such love affairs, I said to myself, if ever it should happen that I have +a serious passion--such a love as makes one think of marriage--oh! then, +just as we tell our sister even before our father and mother, my good +sister shall be the first to be informed of it." + +"You are very kind, Agricola." + +"Well then! the serious passion has come at last. I am over head and ears +in love, and I think of marriage." + +At these words of Agricola, poor Mother Bunch felt herself for an instant +paralyzed. It seemed as if all her blood was suddenly frozen in her +veins. For some seconds, she thought she was going to die. Her heart +ceased to beat; she felt it, not breaking, but melting away to nothing. +Then, the first blasting emotion over, like those martyrs who found, in +the very excitement of pain, the terrible power to smile in the midst of +tortures, the unfortunate girl found, in the fear of betraying the secret +of her fatal and ridiculous love, almost incredible energy. She raised +her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said to him in +a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly love?" + +"That is to say, my good sister, that, for the last four days, I scarcely +live at all--or live only upon this passion." + +"It is only since four days that you have been in love?" + +"Not more--but time has nothing to do with it." + +"And is she very pretty?" + +"Dark hair--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--blue eyes, as large as +that--and as mild, as good as your own." + +"You flatter me, Agricola." + +"No, no, it is Angela that I flatter--for that's her name. What a pretty +one! Is it not, my good Mother Bunch?" + +"A charming name," said the poor girl, contrasting bitterly that graceful +appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless Agricola applied +to her without thinking of it. Then she resumed, with fearful calmness: +"Angela? yes, it is a charming name!" + +"Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this name is not only suited to +her face, but to her heart. In a word, I believe her heart to be almost +equal to yours." + +"She has my eyes--she has my heart," said Mother Bunch, smiling. "It is +singular, how like we are." + +Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words. +He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you +think, my good girl, that I could ever have fallen seriously in love with +any one, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?" + +"Come, brother," said the girl, smiling--yes, the unfortunate creature +had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein to +day. Where did you make the acquaintance of this beautiful young person?" + +"She is only the sister of one of my mates. Her mother is the head +laundress in our common dwelling, and as she was in want of assistance, +and we always take in preference the relations of members of the +association, Mrs. Bertin (that's the mother's name) sent for her daughter +from Lille, where she had been stopping with one of her aunts, and, for +the last five days, she has been in the laundry. The first evening I saw +her, I passed three hours, after work was over, in talking with her, and +her mother and brother; and the next day, I felt that my heart was gone; +the day after that, the feeling was only stronger--and now I am quite mad +about her, and resolved on marriage--according as you shall decide. Do +not be surprised at this; everything depends upon you. I shall only ask +my father and mother's leave, after I have yours." + +"I do not understand you, Agricola." + +"You know the utter confidence I have in the incredible instinct of your +heart. Many times, you have said to me: 'Agricola, love this person, love +that person, have confidence in that other'--and never yet were you +deceived. Well! you must now render me the same service. You will ask +permission of Mdlle. de Cardoville to absent yourself; I will take you to +the factory: I have spoken of you to Mrs. Benin and her daughter, as of a +beloved sister; and, according to your impression at sight of Angela, I +will declare myself or not. This may be childishness, or superstition, on +my part; but I am so made." + +"Be it so," answered Mother Bunch, with heroic courage; "I will see +Mdlle. Angela; I will tell you what I think of her--and that, mind you, +sincerely." + +"I know it. When will you come?" + +"I must ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day she can spare sue. I will let +you know." + +"Thanks, my good sister!" said Agricola warmly; then he added, with a +smile: "Bring your best judgment with you--your full dress judgment." + +"Do not make a jest of it, brother," said Mother Bunch, in a mild, sad +voice; "it is a serious matter, for it concerns the happiness of your +whole life." + +At this moment, a modest knock was heard at the door. "Come in," said +Mother Bunch. Florine appeared. + +"My mistress begs that you will come to her, if you are not engaged," +said Florine to Mother Bunch. + +The latter rose, and, addressing the smith, said to him: "Please wait a +moment, Agricola. I will ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day I can dispose +of, and I will come and tell you." So saying, the girl went out, leaving +Agricola with Florine. + +"I should have much wished to pay my respects to Mdlle. de Cardoville," +said Agricola; "but I feared to intrude." + +"My lady is not quite well, sir," said Florine, "and receives no one to +day. I am sure, that as soon as she is better, she will be quite pleased +to see you." + +Here Mother Bunch returned, and said to Agricola: "If you can come for me +to-morrow, about three o'clock, so as not to lose the whole day, we will +go to the factory, and you can bring me back in the evening." + +"Then, at three o'clock to-morrow, my good sister." + +"At three to-morrow, Agricola." + +The evening of that same day, when all was quiet in the hotel, Mother +Bunch, who had remained till ten o'clock with Mdlle. de Cardoville, re +entered her bedchamber, locked the door after her, and finding herself at +length free and unrestrained, threw herself on her knees before a chair, +and burst into tears. She wept long--very long. When her tears at length +ceased to flow, she dried her eyes, approached the writing-desk, drew out +one of the boxes from the pigeonhole, and, taking from this hiding-place +the manuscript which Florine had so rapidly glanced over the evening +before, she wrote in it during a portion of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +MOTHER BUNCH'S DIARY. + +We have said that the hunchback wrote during a portion of the night, in +the book discovered the previous evening by Florine, who had not ventured +to take it away, until she had informed the persons who employed her of +its contents, and until she had received their final orders on the +subject. Let us explain the existence of this manuscript, before opening +it to the reader. The day on which Mother Bunch first became aware of her +love for Agricola, the first word of this manuscript had been written. +Endowed with an essentially trusting character, yet always feeling +herself restrained by the dread of ridicule--a dread which, in its +painful exaggeration, was the workgirl's only weakness--to whom could the +unfortunate creature have confided the secret of that fatal passion, if +not to paper--that mute confidant of timid and suffering souls, that +patient friend, silent and cold, who, if it makes no reply to heart +rending complaints, at least always listens, and never forgets? + +When her heart was overflowing with emotion, sometimes mild and sad, +sometimes harsh and bitter, the poor workgirl, finding a melancholy charm +in these dumb and solitary outpourings of the soul, now clothed in the +form of simple and touching poetry, and now in unaffected prose, had +accustomed herself by degrees not to confine her confidences to what +immediately related to Agricola, for though he might be mixed up with all +her thoughts, for reflections, which the sight of beauty, of happy love, +of maternity, of wealth, of misfortune, called up within her, were so +impressed with the influence of her unfortunate personal position, that +she would not even have dared to communicate them to him. Such, then, was +this journal of a poor daughter of the people, weak, deformed, and +miserable, but endowed with an angelic soul, and a fine intellect, +improved by reading, meditation, and solitude; pages quite unknown, which +yet contained many deep and striking views, both as regard men and +things, taken from the peculiar standpoint in which fate had placed this +unfortunate creature. The following lines, here and there abruptly +interrupted or stained with tears, according to the current of her +various emotions, on hearing of Agricola's deep love for Angela, formed +the last pages of this journal: + +"Friday, March 3d, 1832. + +"I spent the night without any painful dreams. This morning, I rose with +no sorrowful presentiment. I was calm and tranquil when Agricola came. He +did not appear to me agitated. He was simple and affectionate as he +always is. He spoke to me of events relating to M. Hardy, and then, +without transition, without hesitation, he said to me: 'The last four +days I have been desperately in love. The sentiment is so serious, that I +think of marriage. I have come to consult you about it.' That was how +this overwhelming revelation was made to me--naturally and cordially--I +on one side of the hearth, and Agricola an the other, as if we had talked +of indifferent things. And yet no more is needed to break one's heart. +Some one enters, embraces you like a brother, sits down, talks--and +then--Oh! Merciful heaven! my head wanders. + +"I feel calmer now. Courage, my poor heart, courage!--Should a day of +misfortune again overwhelm me, I will read these lines written under the +impression of the most cruel grief I can ever feel, and I will say to +myself: 'What is the present woe compared to that past?' My grief is +indeed cruel! it is illegitimate, ridiculous, shameful: I should not dare +to confess it, even to the most indulgent of mothers. Alas! there are +some fearful sorrows, which yet rightly make men shrug their shoulders in +pity or contempt. Alas! these are forbidden misfortunes. Agricola has +asked me to go to-morrow, to see this young girl to whom he is so +passionately attached, and whom he will marry, if the instinct of my +heart should approve the marriage. This thought is the most painful of +all those which have tortured me since he so pitilessly announced this +love. Pitilessly? No, Agricola--no, my brother--forgive me this unjust +cry of pain! Is it that you know, can even suspect, that I love you +better than you love, better than you can ever love, this charming +creature? + +"'Dark-haired--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--with blue eyes--as +large as that--and almost as mild as your own.' + +"That is the portrait he drew of her. Poor Agricola! how would he have +suffered, had he known that every one of his words was tearing my heart. +Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity, +inspired by a good, affectionate being, who, in the sincerity of his +ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame +him--no--we pity him to the full extent of the grief that he would feel +on learning the pain he had caused me. It is strange! but never did +Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly +countenance was slightly agitated, as he spoke of the uneasiness of that +pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman +who runs the risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart beat +violently, my hands were burning, a soft languor floated over +me--Ridiculous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus! + +"I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass. I +felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but +no matter--it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone +finely, my gaze beamed mild--I found Agricola so handsome, that I almost +began to think myself less ugly--no doubt, to excuse myself in my own +eyes for daring to love him. After all, what happened to-day would have +happened one day or another! Yes, that is consoling--like the thoughts +that death is nothing, because it must come at last--to those who are in +love with life! I have been always preserved from suicide--the last +resource of the unfortunate, who prefer trusting in God to remaining +amongst his creatures--by the sense of duty. One must not only think of +self. And I reflected also'God is good--always good--since the most +wretched beings find opportunities for love and devotion.' How is it that +I, so weak and poor, have always found means to be helpful and useful to +some one? + +"This very day I felt tempted to make an end with life--Agricola and his +mother had no longer need of me.--Yes, but the unfortunate creatures whom +Mdlle. de Cardoville has commissioned me to watch over?--but my +benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with +the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever +alarmed for her--I feel that she is more than ever in danger--more than +ever--I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must +live. Live--to go to-morrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately +loves? Good heaven! why have I always known grief, and never hate? There +must be a bitter pleasure in hating. So many people hate!--Perhaps I may +hate this girl--Angela, as he called her, when he said, with so much +simplicity: 'A charming name, is it not, Mother Bunch?' Compare this +name, which recalls an idea so full of grace, with the ironical symbol of +my witch's deformity! Poor Agricola! poor brother! goodness is sometimes +as blind as malice, I see. Should I hate this young girl?--Why? Did she +deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola? Can I find fault with her +for being beautiful? When I was not yet accustomed to the consequences of +my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter curiosity, why the Creator had +endowed his creatures so unequally. The habit of pain has allowed me to +reflect calmly, and I have finished by persuading myself, that to beauty +and ugliness are attached the two most noble emotions of the +soul--admiration and compassion. Those who are like me admire beautiful +persons--such as Angela, such as Agricola--and these in their turn feel a +couching pity for such as I am. Sometimes, in spite of one's self, one +has very foolish hopes. Because Agricola, from a feeling of propriety had +never spoken to me of his love affairs, I sometimes persuaded myself that +he had none--that he loved me, and that the fear of ridicule alone was +with him, as with me, an obstacle in the way of confessing it. Yes, I +have even made verses on that subject--and those, I think, not the worst +I have written. + +"Mine is a singular position! If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love me, +he is still more ridiculous. How did I come so to forget that, as to have +suffered and to suffer what I do?--But blessed be that suffering, since +it has not engendered hate--no; for I will not hate this girl--I will +Perform a sister's part to the last; I will follow the guidance of my +heart; I have the instinct of preserving others--my heart will lead and +enlighten me. My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when I see +her, and not be able to conquer my emotion. Oh, then! what a revelation +to Agricola--a discovery of the mad love he has inspired!--Oh, never! the +day in which he knew that would be the last of my life. There would then +be within me something stronger than duty--the longing to escape from +shame--that incurable shame, that burns me like a hot iron. No, no; I +will be calm. Besides, did I not just now, when with him bear +courageously a terrible trial? I will be calm. My personal feelings must +not darken the second sight, so clear for those I love. Oh! +painful--painful task! for the fear of yielding involuntarily to evil +sentiments must not render me too indulgent toward this girl. I might +compromise Agricola's happiness, since my decision is to guide his +choice. Poor creature that I am. How I deceive myself! Agricola asks my +advice, because he thinks that I shall have not the melancholy courage to +oppose his passion; or else he would say to me: 'No matter--I love; and I +brave the future!' + +"But then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide +him--if his resolution is taken beforehand--of what use will be to +morrow's painful mission? Of what use? To obey him. Did he not +say--'Come!' In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the +secret depths of my heart, I have asked myself if the thought had ever +occurred to him to love me otherwise than as a sister; if it had ever +struck him, what a devoted wife he would have in me! And why should it +have occurred to him? As long as he wished, as long as he may still wish, +I have been, and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his wife, +sister, or mother. Why should he desire what he already possesses? + +"Married to him--oh, God!--the dream is mad as ineffable. Are not such +thoughts of celestial sweetness--which include all sentiments from +sisterly to maternal love--forbidden to me, on pain of ridicule as +distressing as if I wore dresses and ornaments, that my ugliness and +deformity would render absurd? I wonder, if I were now plunged into the +most cruel distress, whether I should suffer as much as I do, on hearing +of Agricola's intended marriage? Would hunger, cold, or misery diminish +this dreadful dolor?--or is it the dread pain that would make me forget +hunger, cold, and misery? + +"No, no; this irony is bitter. It is not well in me to speak thus. Why +such deep grief? In what way have the affection, the esteem, the respect +of Agricola, changed towards me? I complain--but how would it be, kind +heaven! if, as, alas! too often happens, I were beautiful, loving, +devoted, and he had chosen another, less beautiful, less loving, less +devoted?--Should I not be a thousand times more unhappy? for then I +might, I would have to blame him--whilst now I can find no fault with +him, for never having thought of a union which was impossible, because +ridiculous. And had he wished it, could I ever have had the selfishness +to consent to it? I began to write the first pages of this diary as I +began these last, with my heart steeped in bitterness--and as I went on, +committing to paper what I could have intrusted to no one, my soul grew +calm, till resignation came--Resignation, my chosen saint, who, smiling +through her tears, suffers and loves, but hopes--never!" + +These word's were the last in the journal. It was clear, from the blots +of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to +weep. + +In truth, worn out by so many emotions, Mother Bunch late in the night, +had replaced the book behind the cardboard box, not that she thought it +safer there than elsewhere (she had no suspicion of the slightest need +for such precaution), but because it was more out of the way there than +in any of the drawers, which she frequently opened in presence of other +people. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily +accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola, and +firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's factory. +Florine, informed of her departure, but detained a portion of the day in +attendance on Mdlle. de Cardoville preferred waiting for night to perform +the new orders she had asked and received, since she had communicated by +letter the contents of Mother Bunch's journal. Certain not to be +surprised, she entered the workgirls' chamber, as soon as the night was +come. + +Knowing the place where she should find the manuscript, she went straight +to the desk, took out the box, and then, drawing from her pocket a sealed +letter, prepared to leave it in the place of the manuscript, which she +was to carry away with her. So doing, she trembled so much, that she was +obliged to support herself an instant by the table. Every good sentiment +was not extinct in Florine's heart; she obeyed passively the orders she +received, but she felt painfully how horrible and infamous was her +conduct. If only herself had been concerned, she would no doubt have had +the courage to risk all, rather than submit to this odious despotism; but +unfortunately, it was not so, and her ruin would have caused the mortal +despair of another person whom she loved better than life itself. She +resigned herself, therefore, not without cruel anguish, to abominable +treachery. + +Though she hardly ever knew for what end she acted, and this was +particularly the case with regard to the abstraction of the journal, she +foresaw vaguely, that the substitution of this sealed letter for the +manuscript would have fatal consequences for Mother Bunch, for she +remembered Rodin's declaration, that "it was time to finish with the +young sempstress." + +What did he mean by those words? How would the letter that she was +charged to put in the place of the diary, contribute to bring about this +result? she did not know--but she understood that the clear-sighted +devotion of the hunchback justly alarmed the enemies of Mdlle. de +Cardoville, and that she (Florine) herself daily risked having her +perfidy detected by the young needlewoman. This last fear put an end to +the hesitations of Florine; she placed the letter behind the box, and, +hiding the manuscript under her apron, cautiously withdrew from the +chamber. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +THE DIARY CONTINUED. + +Returned into her own room, some hours after she had concealed there the +manuscript abstracted from Mother Bunch's apartment, Florine yielded to +her curiosity, and determined to look through it. She soon felt a growing +interest, an involuntary emotion, as she read more of these private +thoughts of the young sempstress. Among many pieces of verse, which all +breathed a passionate love for Agricola--a love so deep, simple, and +sincere, that Florine was touched by it, and forgot the author's +deformity--among many pieces of verse, we say, were divers other +fragments, thoughts, and narratives, relating to a variety of facts. We +shall quote some of them, in order to explain the profound impression +that their perusal made upon Florine. + +Fragments from the Diary. + +"This is my birthday. Until this evening, I had cherished a foolish hope. +Yesterday, I went down to Mrs. Baudoin's, to dress a little wound she had +on her leg. When I entered the room, Agricola was there. No doubt he was +talking of me to his mother, for they stopped when I came in, and +exchanged a meaning smile. In passing by the drawers, I saw a pasteboard +box, with a pincushion-lid, and I felt myself blushing with joy, as I +thought this little present was destined for me, but I pretended not to +see it. While I was on my knees before his mother, Agricola went out. I +remarked that he took the little box with him. Never has Mrs. Baudoin +been more tender and motherly than she was that morning. It appeared to +me that she went to bed earlier than usual. 'It is to send me away +sooner,' said I to myself, 'that I may enjoy the surprise Agricola has +prepared for me.' How my heart beat, as I ran fast, very fast, up to my +closet! I stopped a moment before opening the door, that my happiness +might last the longer. At last I entered the room, my eyes swimming with +tears of joy. I looked upon my table, my chair, my bed--there was +nothing. The little box was not to be found. My heart sank within me. +Then I said to myself: 'It will be to-morrow--this is only the eve of my +birthday.' The day is gone. Evening is come. Nothing. The pretty box was +not for me. It had a pincushion-cover. It was only suited for a woman. To +whom has Agricola given it? + +"I suffer a good deal just now. It was a childish idea that I connected +with Agricola's wishing me many happy returns of the day. I am ashamed to +confess it; but it might have proved to me, that he has not forgotten I +have another name besides that of Mother Bunch, which they always apply +to me. My susceptibility on this head is unfortunately so stubborn, that +I cannot help feeling a momentary pang of mingled shame and sorrow, every +time that I am called by that fairy-tale name, and yet I have had no +other from infancy. It is for that very reason that I should have been so +happy if Agricola had taken this opportunity to call me for once by my +own humble name--Magdalen. Happily, he will never know these wishes and +regrets!" + +Deeper and deeper touched by this page of simple grief, Florine turned +over several leaves, and continued: + +"I have just been to the funeral of poor little Victorine Herbin, our +neighbor. Her father, a journeyman upholsterer, is gone to work by the +month, far from Paris. She died at nineteen, without a relation near her. +Her agony was not long. The good woman who attended her to the last, told +us that she only pronounced these words: 'At last, oh at last!' and that +with an air of satisfaction, added the nurse. Dear child! she had become +so pitiful. At fifteen, she was a rosebud--so pretty, so fresh-looking, +with her light hair as soft as silk; but she wasted away by degrees--her +trade of renovating mattresses killed her. She was slowly poisoned by the +emanations from the wool.[26] They were all the worse, that she worked +almost entirely for the poor, who have cheap stuff to lie upon. + +"She had the courage of a lion, and an angel's resignation, She always +said to me, in her low, faint voice, broken by a dry and frequent cough: +'I have not long to live, breathing, as I do, lime and vitriol all day +long. I spit blood, and have spasms that make me faint.' + +"'Why not change your trade?' have I said to her. + +"'Where will I find the time to make another apprenticeship?' she would +answer; 'and it is now too late. I feel that I am done for. It is not my +fault,' added the good creature, 'for I did not choose my employment. My +father would have it so; luckily he can do without me. And then, you see, +when one is dead, one cares for nothing, and has no fear of "slop +wages."' + +"Victorine uttered that sad, common phrase very sincerely, and with a +sort of satisfaction. Therefore she died repeating: 'At last!' + +"It is painful to think that the labor by which the poor man earns his +daily bread, often becomes a long suicide! I said this the other day to +Agricola; he answered me that there were many other fatal employments; +those who prepare aquafortis, white lead, or minium, for instance, are +sure to take incurable maladies of which they die. + +"'Do you know,' added Agricola, 'what they say when they start for those +fatal works?'--Why, 'We are going to the slaughter-house.' + +"That made me tremble with its terrible truth. + +"'And all this takes place in our day,' said I to him, with an aching +heart; 'and it is well-known. And, out of so many of the rich and +powerful, no one thinks of the mortality which decimates his brothers, +thus forced to eat homicidal bread!' + +"'What can you expect, my poor sister,' answered Agricola. 'When men are +to be incorporated, that they may get killed in war, all pains are taken +with them. But when they are to be organized, so as to live in peace, no +one cares about it, except M. Hardy, my master. People say, 'Pooh! +hunger, misery, and suffering of the laboring classes--what is that to +us? that is not politics.' 'They are wrong,' added Agricola; 'IT IS MORE +THAN POLITICS.' + +"As Victorine had not left anything to pay for the church service, there +was only the presentation of the body under the porch; for there is not +even a plain mass for the poor. Besides, as they could not give eighteen +francs to the curate, no priest accompanied the pauper's coffin to the +common grave. If funerals, thus abridged and cut short, are sufficient in +a religious point of view, why invent other and longer forms? Is it from +cupidity?--If, on the other hand, they are not sufficient, why make the +poor man the only victim of this insufficiency? But why trouble ourselves +about the pomp, the incense, the chants, of which they are either too +sparing or too liberal? Of what use? and for what purpose? They are vain, +terrestrial things, for which the soul recks nothing, when, radiant, it +ascends towards its Creator. Yesterday, Agricola made me read an article +in a newspaper, in which violent blame and bitter irony are by turns +employed, to attack what they call the baneful tendencies of some of the +lower orders, to improve themselves, to write, to read the poets, and +sometimes to make verses. Material enjoyments are forbidden us by +poverty. Is it humane to reproach us for seeking the enjoyments of the +mind? What harm can it do any one if every evening, after a day's toil, +remote from all pleasure, I amuse myself, unknown to all, in making a few +verses, or in writing in this journal the good or bad impressions I have +received? Is Agricola the worse workman, because, on returning home to +his mother, he employs Sunday in composing some of those popular songs, +which glorify the fruitful labors of the artisan, and say to all, Hope +and brotherhood! Does he not make a more worthy use of his time than if +he spent it in a tavern? Ah! those who blame us for these innocent and +noble diversions, which relieve our painful toils and sufferings, deceive +themselves when they think, that, in proportion as the intellect is +raised and refined, it is more difficult to bear with privations and +misery, and that so the irritation increases against the luckier few. + +"Admitting even this to be the case--and it is not so--is it not better +to have an intelligent, enlightened enemy, to whose heart and reason you +may address yourself, than a stupid, ferocious, implacable foe? But no; +enmities disappear as the mind becomes enlightened, and the horizon of +compassion extends itself. We thus learn to understand moral afflictions. +We discover that the rich also have to suffer intense pains, and that +brotherhood in misfortune is already a link of sympathy. Alas! they also +have to mourn bitterly for idolized children, beloved mistresses, +reverend mothers; with them, also, especially amongst the women, there +are, in the height of luxury and grandeur, many broken hearts, many +suffering souls, many tears shed in secret. Let them not be alarmed. By +becoming their equals in intelligence, the people will learn to pity the +rich, if good and unhappy--and to pity them still more if rejoicing in +wickedness. + +"What happiness! what a joyful day! I am giddy with delight. Oh, truly, +man is good, humane, charitable. Oh, yes! the Creator has implanted +within him every generous instinct--and, unless he be a monstrous +exception, he never does evil willingly. Here is what I saw just now. I +will not wait for the evening to write it down, for my heart would, as it +were, have time to cool. I had gone to carry home some work that was +wanted in a hurry. I was passing the Place du Temple. A few steps from me +I saw a child, about twelve years old at most, with bare head, and feet, +in spite of the severe weather, dressed in a shabby, ragged smock frock +and trousers, leading by the bridle a large cart-horse, with his harness +still on. From time to time the horse stopped short, and refused to +advance. The child, who had no whip, tugged in vain at the bridle. The +horse remained motionless. Then the poor little fellow cried out: 'O +dear, O dear!' and began to weep bitterly, looking round him as if to +implore the assistance of the passers-by. His dear little face was +impressed with so heart piercing a sorrow, that, without reflecting, I +made an attempt at which I can now only smile, I must have presented so +grotesque a figure. I am horribly afraid of horses, and I am still more +afraid of exposing myself to public gaze. Nevertheless, I took courage, +and, having an umbrella in my hand, I approached the horse, and with the +impetuosity of an ant that strives to move a large stone with a little +piece of straw, I struck with all my strength on the croup of the +rebellious animal. 'Oh, thanks, my good lady!' exclaimed the child, +drying his eyes: 'hit him again, if you please. Perhaps he will get up.' + +"I began again, heroically; but, alas! either from obstinacy or laziness, +the horse bent his knees, and stretched himself out upon the ground; +then, getting entangled with his harness, he tore it, and broke his great +wooden collar. I had drawn back quickly, for fear of receiving a kick. +Upon this new disaster, the child could only throw himself on his knees +in the middle of the street, clasping his hands and sobbing, and +exclaiming in a voice of despair: 'Help! help!' + +"The call was heard; several of the passers-by gathered round, and a more +efficacious correction than mine was administered to the restive horse, +who rose in a vile state, and without harness. + +"'My master will beat me,' cried the poor child, as his tears redoubled; +'I am already two hours after time, for the horse would not go, and now +he has broken his harness. My master will beat me, and turn me away. Oh +dear! what will become of me! I have no father nor mother.' + +"At these words, uttered with a heart-rending accent, a worthy old +clothes-dealer of the Temple, who was amongst the spectators, exclaimed, +with a kindly air: 'No father nor mother! Do not grieve so, my poor +little fellow; the Temple can supply everything. We will mend the +harness, and, if my gossips are like me, you shall not go away bareheaded +or barefooted in such weather as this.' + +"This proposition was greeted with acclamation; they led away both horse +and child; some were occupied in mending the harness, then one supplied a +cap, another a pair of stockings, another some shoes, and another a good +jacket; in a quarter of an hour the child was warmly clad, the harness +repaired, and a tall lad of eighteen, brandishing a whip, which he +cracked close to the horse's ears, by way of warning, said to the little +boy, who, gazing first at his new clothes, and then at the good woman, +believed himself the hero of a fairy-tale. 'Where does your governor +live, little 'un?' + +"'On the Quai du Canal-Saint-Martin, sir,' answered he, in a voice +trembling with joy. + +"'Very good,' said the young man, 'I will help you take home the horse, +who will go well enough with me, and I will tell the master that the +delay was no fault of your'n. A balky horse ought not to be trusted to a +child of your age.' + +"At the moment of setting out, the poor little fellow said timidly to the +good dame, as he took off his cap to her: 'Will you let me kiss you, +ma'am?' + +"His eyes were full of tears of gratitude. There was heart in that child. +This scene of popular charity gave me delightful emotions. As long as I +could, I followed with my eyes the tall young man and the child, who now +could hardly keep up with the pace of the horse, rendered suddenly docile +by fear of the whip. + +"Yes! I repeat it with pride; man is naturally good and helpful. Nothing +could have been more spontaneous than this movement of pity and +tenderness in the crowd, when the poor little fellow exclaimed: 'What +will become of me? I have no father or mother!' + +"'Unfortunate child!' said I to myself. 'No father nor mother. In the +hands of a brutal master, who hardly covers him with a few rags, and ill +treats him into the bargain. Sleeping, no doubt in the corner of a +stable. Poor little, fellow! and yet so mild and good, in spite of misery +and misfortune. I saw it--he was even more grateful than pleased at the +service done him. But perhaps this good natural disposition, abandoned +without support or counsel, or help, and exasperated by bad treatment, +may become changed and embittered--and then will come the age of the +passions--the bad temptations--' + +"Oh! in the deserted poor, virtue is doubly saintly and respectable! + +"This morning, after having (as usual) gently reproached me for not going +to mass, Agricola's mother said to me these words, so touching in her +simple and believing mouth, 'Luckily, I pray for you and myself too, my +poor girl; the good God will hear me, and you will only go, I hope, to +Purgatory.' + +"Good mother; angelic soul! she spoke those words in so grave and mild a +tone, with so strong a faith in the happy result of her pious +intercession, that I felt my eyes become moist, and I threw myself on her +neck, as sincerely grateful as if I had believed in Purgatory. This day +has been a lucky one for me. I hope I have found work, which luck I shall +owe to a young person full of heart and goodness, she is to take me +to-morrow to St. Mary's Convent, where she thinks she can find me +employment." + +Florine, already much moved by the reading, started at this passage in +which Mother Bunch alluded to her, ere she continued as follows: + +"Never shall I forget with what touching interest, what delicate +benevolence, this handsome young girl received me, so poor, and so +unfortunate. It does not astonish me, for she is attached to the person +of Mdlle. de Cardoville. She must be worthy to reside with Agricola's +benefactress. It will always be dear and pleasant to me to remember her +name. It is graceful and pretty as her face; it is Florine. I am nothing, +I have nothing--but if the fervent prayers of a grateful heart might be +heard, Mdlle. Florine would be happy, very happy. Alas! I am reduced to +say prayers for her--only prayers--for I can do nothing but remember and +love her!" + +These lines, expressing so simply the sincere gratitude of the hunchback, +gave the last blow to Florine's hesitations. She could no longer resist +the generous temptation she felt. As she read these last fragments of the +journal, her affection and respect for Mother Bunch made new progress. +More than ever she felt how infamous it was in her to expose to sarcasms +and contempt the most secret thoughts of this unfortunate creature. +Happily, good is often as contagious as evil. Electrified by all that was +warm, noble, and magnanimous in the pages she had just read, Florine +bathed her failing virtue in that pure and vivifying source, and, +yielding, at last to one of those good impulses which sometimes carried +her away, she left the room with the manuscript in her hand, determined, +if Mother Bunch had not yet returned, to replace it--resolved to tell +Rodin that, this second time, her search for the journal had been vain, +the sempstress having no doubt discovered the first attempt. + +[26] In the Ruche Populaire, a working man's organ, are the following +particulars: + +"Carding Mattresses.--The dust which flies out of the wool makes carding +destructive to health in any case, but trade adulterations enhance the +danger. In sticking sheep, the skin gets blood-spotted; it has to be +bleached to make it salable. Lime is the main whitener, and some of it +clings to the wool after the process. The dresser (female, most often) +breathes in the fine dust, and, by lung and other complaints, is far from +seldom deplorably situated; the majority sicken of it and give up the +trade, while those who keep to it, at the very least, suffer with a +catarrh or asthma that torments them until death. + +"As for horsehair, the very best is not pure. You can judge what the +inferior quality is, from the workgirls calling it vitriol hair, because +it is the refuse or clippings from goats and swine, washed in vitriol, +boiled in dyes, etc., to burn and disguise such foreign bodies as straw. +thorns, splinters, and even bits of skin, not worth picking out. The dust +rising when a mass of this is beaten, makes as many ravages as the +lime-wool." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +A little while before Florine made up her mind to atone for her shameful +breach of confidence, Mother Bunch had returned from the factory, after +accomplishing to the end her painful task. After a long interview with +Angela, struck, like Agricola, with the ingenuous grace, sense, and +goodness, with which the young girl was endowed, Mother Bunch had the +courageous frankness to advise the smith to enter into this marriage. The +following scene took place whilst Florine, still occupied in reading the +journal, had not yet taken the praiseworthy resolution of replacing it. +It was ten o'clock at night. The workgirl, returned to Cardoville House, +had just entered her chamber. Worn out by so many emotions, she had +thrown herself into a chair. The deepest silence reigned in the house. It +was now and then interrupted by the soughing of a high wind, which raged +without and shook the trees in the garden. A single candle lighted the +room, which was papered with dark green. That peculiar tint, and the +hunchback's black dress, increased her apparent paleness. Seated in an +arm-chair by the side of the fire, with her head resting upon her bosom, +her hands crossed upon her knees, the work-girl's countenance was +melancholy and resigned; on it was visible the austere satisfaction which +is felt by the consciousness of a duty well performed. + +Like all those who, brought up in the merciless school of misfortune, no +longer exaggerate the sentiment of sorrow, too familiar and assiduous a +guest to be treated as a stranger, Mother Bunch was incapable of long +yielding to idle regrets and vain despair, with regard to what was +already past. Beyond doubt, the blow had been sudden, dreadful; doubtless +it must leave a long and painful remembrance in the sufferer's soul; but +it was soon to pass, as it were, into that chronic state of pain-durance, +which had become almost an integral part of her life. And then this noble +creature, so indulgent to fate, found still some consolations in the +intensity of her bitter pain. She had been deeply touched by the marks of +affection shown her by Angela, Agricola's intended: and she had felt a +species of pride of the heart, in perceiving with what blind confidence, +with what ineffable joy, the smith accepted the favorable presentiments +which seemed to consecrate his happiness. Mother Bunch also said to +herself: "At least, henceforth I shall not be agitated by hopes, or +rather by suppositions as ridiculous as they were senseless. Agricola's +marriage puts a term to all the miserable reveries of my poor head." + +Finally, she found a real and deep consolation in the certainty that she +had been able to go through this terrible trial, and conceal from +Agricola the love she felt for him. We know how formidable to this +unfortunate being were those ideas of ridicule and shame, which she +believed would attach to the discovery of her mad passion. After having +remained for some time absorbed in thought, Mother Bunch rose, and +advanced slowly towards the desk. + +"My only recompense," said she, as she prepared the materials for +writing, "will be to entrust the mute witness of my pains with this new +grief. I shall at least have kept the promise that I made to myself. +Believing, from the bottom of my soul, that this girl is able to make +Agricola happy, I told him so with the utmost sincerity. One day, a long +time hence, when I shall read over these pages, I shall perhaps find in +that a compensation for all that I now suffer." + +So saying, she drew the box from the pigeon-hole. Not finding her +manuscript, she uttered a cry of surprise; but, what was her alarm, when +she perceived a letter to her address in the place of the journal! She +became deadly pale; her knees trembled; she almost fainted away. But her +increasing terror gave her a fictitious energy, and she had the strength +to break the seal. A bank-note for five hundred francs fell from the +letter on the table, and Mother Bunch read as follows: + +"Mademoiselle,--There is something so original and amusing in reading in +your memoirs the story of your love for Agricola, that it is impossible +to resist the pleasure of acquainting him with the extent of it, of which +he is doubtless ignorant, but to which he cannot fail to show himself +sensible. Advantage will be taken to forward it to a multitude of other +persons, who might, perhaps, otherwise be unfortunately deprived of the +amusing contents of your diary. Should copies and extracts not be +sufficient, we will have it printed, as one cannot too much diffuse such +things. Some will weep--others will laugh--what appears superb to one set +of people, will seem ridiculous to another, such is life--but your +journal will surely make a great sensation. As you are capable of wishing +to avoid your triumph, and as you were only covered with rags when you +were received, out of charity into this house, where you wish to figure +as the great lady, which does not suit your shape for more reasons than +one, we enclose in the present five hundred francs to pay for your +day-book, and prevent your being without resources, in case you should be +modest enough to shrink from the congratulations which await you, certain +to overwhelm you by to-morrow, for, at this hour, your journal is already +in circulation. + +"One of your brethren, + +"A REAL MOTHER BUNCH." + +The vulgar, mocking, and insolent tone of this letter, which was +purposely written in the character of a jealous lackey, dissatisfied with +the admission of the unfortunate creature into the house, had been +calculated with infernal skill and was sure to produce the effect +intended. + +"Oh, good heaven!" were the only words the unfortunate girl could +pronounce, in her stupor and alarm. + +Now, if we remember in what passionate terms she had expressed her love +for her adopted brother, if we recall many passages of this manuscript, +in which she revealed the painful wounds often inflicted on her by +Agricola without knowing it, and if we consider how great was her terror +of ridicule, we shall understand her mad despair on reading this infamous +letter. Mother Bunch did not think for a moment of all the noble words +and touching narratives contained in her journal. The one horrible idea +which weighed down the troubled spirit of the unfortunate creature, was, +that on the morrow Agricola, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and an insolent and +mocking crowd, would be informed of this ridiculous love, which would, +she imagined, crush her with shame and confusion. This new blow was so +stunning, that the recipient staggered a moment beneath the unexpected +shock. For some minutes, she remained completely inert and helpless; +then, upon reflection, she suddenly felt conscious of a terrible +necessity. + +This hospitable mansion, where she had found a sure refuge after so many +misfortunes, must be left for ever. The trembling timidity and sensitive +delicacy of the poor creature did not permit her to remain a minute more +in this dwelling, where the most secret recesses of her soul had been +laid open, profaned, and exposed no doubt to sarcasm and contempt. She +did not think of demanding justice and revenge from Mdlle. de Cardoville. +To cause a ferment of trouble and irritation in this house, at the moment +of quitting it, would have appeared to her ingratitude towards her +benefactress. She did not seek to discover the author or the motive of +this odious robbery and insulting letter. Why should she, resolved, as +she was, to fly from the humiliations with which she was threatened? She +had a vague notion (as indeed was intended), that this infamy might be +the work of some of the servants, jealous of the affectionate deference +shown her by Mdlle. de Cardoville--and this thought filled her with +despair. Those pages--so painfully confidential, which she would not have +ventured to impart to the most tender and indulgent mother, because, +written as it were with her heart's blood, they painted with too cruel a +fidelity the thousand secret wounds of her soul--those pages were to +serve, perhaps served even now, for the jest and laughing-stock of the +lackeys of the mansion. + +The money which accompanied this letter, and the insulting way in which +it was offered, rather tended to confirm her suspicions. It was intended +that the fear of misery should not be the obstacle of her leaving the +house. The workgirl's resolution was soon taken, with that calm and firm +resignation which was familiar to her. She rose, with somewhat bright and +haggard eyes, but without a tear in them. Since the day before, she had +wept too much. With a trembling, icy hand, she wrote these words on a +paper, which she left by the side of the bank-note: "May Mdlle. de +Cardoville be blessed for all that she has done for me, and forgive me +for having left her house, where I can remain no longer." + +Having written this, Mother Bunch threw into the fire the infamous +letter, which seemed to burn her hands. Then, taking a last look at her +chamber, furnished so comfortably, she shuddered involuntarily as she +thought of the misery that awaited her--a misery more frightful than that +of which she had already been the victim, for Agricola's mother had +departed with Gabriel, and the unfortunate girl could no longer, as +formerly, be consoled in her distress by the almost maternal affection of +Dagobert's wife. To live alone--quite alone--with the thought that her +fatal passion for Agricola was laughed at by everybody, perhaps even by +himself--such were the future prospects of the hunchback. This future +terrified her--a dark desire crossed her mind--she shuddered, and an +expression of bitter joy contracted her features. Resolved to go, she +made some steps towards the door, when, in passing before the fireplace, +she saw her own image in the glass, pale as death, and clothed in black; +then it struck her that she wore a dress which did not belong to her, and +she remembered a passage in the letter, which alluded to the rags she had +on before she entered that house. "True!" said she, with a heart breaking +smile, as she looked at her black garments; "they would call me a thief." + +And, taking her candle, she entered the little dressing room, and put on +again the poor, old clothes, which she had preserved as a sort of pious +remembrance of her misfortunes. Only at this instant did her tears flow +abundantly. She wept--not in sorrow at resuming the garb of misery, but +in gratitude; for all the comforts around her, to which she was about to +bid an eternal adieu, recalled to her mind at every step the delicacy and +goodness of Mdlle. de Cardoville: therefore, yielding to an almost +involuntary impulse, after she had put on her poor, old clothes, she fell +on her knees in the middle of the room, and, addressing herself in +thought to Mdlle. de Cardoville, she exclaimed, in a voice broken by +convulsive sobs: "Adieu! oh, for ever, adieu!--You, that deigned to call +me friend--and sister!" + +Suddenly, she rose in alarm; she heard steps in the corridor, which led +from the garden to one of the doors of her apartment, the other door +opening into the parlor. It was Florine, who (alas! too late) was +bringing back the manuscript. Alarmed at this noise of footsteps, and +believing herself already the laughing-stock of the house. Mother Bunch +rushed from the room, hastened across the parlor, gained the court-yard, +and knocked at the window of the porter's lodge. The house-door opened, +and immediately closed upon her. And so the workgirl left Cardoville +House. + +Adrienne was thus deprived of a devoted, faithful, and vigilant guardian. +Rodin was delivered from an active and sagacious antagonist, whom he had +always, with good reason, feared. Having, as we have seen, guessed Mother +Bunch's love for Agricola, and knowing her to be a poet, the Jesuit +supposed, logically enough that she must have written secretly some +verses inspired by this fatal and concealed passion. Hence the order +given to Florine, to try and discover some written evidence of this love; +hence this letter, so horribly effective in its coarse ribaldry, of +which, it must be observed, Florine did not know the contents, having +received it after communicating a summary of the contents of the +manuscript, which, the first time, she had only glanced through without +taking it away. We have said, that Florine, yielding too late to a +generous repentance, had reached Mother Bunch's apartment, just as the +latter quitted the house in consternation. + +Perceiving a light in the dressing-room, the waiting-maid hastened +thither. She saw upon a chair the black dress that Mother Bunch had just +taken off, and, a few steps further, the shabby little trunk, open and +empty, in which she had hitherto preserved her poor garments. Florine's +heart sank within her; she ran to the secretary; the disorder of the +card-board boxes, the note for five hundred francs left by the side of +the two lines written to Mdlle. de Cardoville, all proved that her +obedience to Rodin's orders had borne fatal fruit, and that Mother Bunch +had quitted the house for ever. Finding the uselessness of her tardy +resolution, Florine resigned herself with a sigh to the necessity of +delivering the manuscript to Rodin. Then, forced by the fatality of her +miserable position to console herself for evil by evil, she considered +that the hunchback's departure would at least make her treachery less +dangerous. + +Two days after these events, Adrienne received the following note from +Rodin, in answer to a letter she had written him, to inform him of the +work-girl's inexplicable departure: + +"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY;--Obliged to set out this morning for the factory of +the excellent M. Hardy, whither I am called by an affair of importance, +it is impossible for me to pay you my humble respects. You ask me what I +think of the disappearance of this poor girl? I really do not know. The +future will, I doubt not, explain all to her advantage. Only, remember +what I told you at Dr. Baleinier's, with regard to a certain society and +its secret emissaries, with whom it has the art of surrounding those it +wishes to keep a watch on. I accuse no one; but let us only recall facts. +This poor girl accused me; and I am, as you know, the most faithful of +your servants. She possessed nothing; and yet five hundred francs were +found in her secretary. You loaded her with favors; and she leaves your +house without even explaining the cause of this extraordinary flight. I +draw no conclusion, my dear young lady; I am always unwilling to condemn +without evidence; but reflect upon all this, and be on your guard, for +you have perhaps escaped a great danger. Be more circumspect and +suspicious than ever; such at least is the respectful advice of your most +obedient, humble servant, + +"Rodin." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +THE TRYSTING-PLACE OF THE WOLVES. + +It was a Sunday morning the very day on which Mdlle. de Cardoville had +received Rodin's letter with regard to Mother Bunch's disappearance. Two +men were talking to together, seated at a table in one of the public +houses in the little village of Villiers, situated at no great distance +from Hardy's factory. The village was for the most part inhabited by +quarrymen and stonecutters, employed in working the neighboring quarries. +Nothing can be ruder and more laborious, and at the same time less +adequately paid, than the work of this class of people. Therefore, as +Agricola had told Mother Bunch, they drew painful comparisons between +their condition, almost always miserable, and the comfort and comparative +ease enjoyed by M. Hardy's workmen, thanks to his generous and +intelligent management, and to the principles of association and +community which he had put in practice amongst them. Misery and ignorance +are always the cause of great evils. Misery is easily excited to anger, +and ignorance soon yields to perfidious counsels. For a long time, the +happiness of M. Hardy's workmen had been naturally envied, but not with a +jealousy amounting to hatred. As soon, however, as the secret enemies of +the manufacturer, uniting with his rival Baron Tripeaud, had an interest +in changing this peaceful state of things--it changed accordingly. + +With diabolical skill and perseverance they succeeded in kindling the +most evil passions. By means of chosen emissaries, they applied to those +quarrymen and stonecutters of the neighborhood, whose bad conduct had +aggravated their misery. Notorious for their turbulence, audacity, and +energy, these men might exercise a dangerous influence on the majority of +their companions, who were peaceful, laborious, and honest, but easily +intimidated by violence. These turbulent leaders, previously embittered +by misfortune, were soon impressed with an exaggerated idea of the +happiness of M. Hardy's workmen, and excited to a jealous hatred of them. +They went still further; the incendiary sermons of an abbe, a member of +the Jesuits, who had come expressly from Paris to preach during Lent +against M. Hardy, acted powerfully on the minds of the women, who filled +the church, whilst their husbands were haunting the taverns. Profiting by +the growing fear, which the approach of the Cholera then inspired, the +preacher struck with terror these weak and credulous imaginations by +pointing to M. Hardy's factory as a centre of corruption and damnation, +capable of drawing down the vengeance of Heaven, and bringing the fatal +scourge upon the country. Thus the men, already inflamed with envy, were +still more excited by the incessant urgency of their wives, who, maddened +by the abbe's sermons, poured their curses on that band of atheists, who +might bring down so many misfortunes upon them and their children. Some +bad characters, belonging to the factory of Baron Tripeaud, and paid by +him (for it was a great interest the honorable manufacturer had in the +ruin of M. Hardy), came to augment the general irritation, and to +complete it by raising one of those alarming union-questions, which in +our day have unfortunately caused so much bloodshed. Many of M. Hardy's +workmen, before they entered his employ, had belonged to a society or +union, called the Devourers; while many of the stonecutters in the +neighboring quarries belonged to a society called the Wolves. Now, for a +long time, an implacable rivalry had existed between the Wolves and +Devourers, and brought about many sanguinary struggles, which are the +more to be deplored, as, in some respects, the idea of these unions is +excellent, being founded on the fruitful and mighty principle of +association. But unfortunately, instead of embracing all trades in one +fraternal communion, these unions break up the working-class into +distinct and hostile societies, whose rivalry often leads to bloody +collisions.[27] For the last week, the Wolves, excited by so many different +importunities, burned to discover an occasion or a pretext to come to +blows with the Devourers; but the latter, not frequenting the +public-houses, and hardly leaving the factory during the week, had +hitherto rendered such a meeting impossible, and the Wolves had been +forced to wait for the Sunday with ferocious impatience. + +Moreover, a great number of the quarrymen and stonecutters, being +peaceable and hard-working people, had refused, though Wolves themselves +to join this hostile manifestation against the Devourers of M. Hardy's +factory; the leaders had been obliged to recruit their forces from the +vagabonds and idlers of the barriers, whom the attraction of tumult and +disorder had easily enlisted under the flag of the warlike Wolves. Such +then was the dull fermentation, which agitated the little village of +Villiers, whilst the two men of whom we have spoken were at table in the +public-house. + +These men had asked for a private room, that they might be alone. One of +them was still young, and pretty well dressed. But the disorder in his +clothes, his loose cravat, his shirt spotted with wine, his dishevelled +hair, his look of fatigue, his marble complexion, his bloodshot eyes, +announced that a night of debauch had preceded this morning; whilst his +abrupt and heavy gesture, his hoarse voice, his look, sometimes +brilliant, and sometimes stupid, proved that to the last fumes of the +intoxication of the night before, were joined the first attacks of a new +state of drunkenness. The companion of this man said to him, as he +touched his glass with his own: "Your health, my boy!" + +"Yours!" answered the young man; "though you look to me like the devil." + +"I!--the devil?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +"How did you come to know me?" + +"Do you repent that you ever knew me?" + +"Who told you that I was a prisoner at Sainte-Pelagie?" + +"Didn't I take you out of prison?" + +"Why did you take me out?" + +"Because I have a good heart." + +"You are very fond of me, perhaps--just as the butcher likes the ox that +he drives to the slaughter-house." + +"Are you mad?" + +"A man does not pay a hundred thousand francs for another without a +motive." + +"I have a motive." + +"What is it? what do you want to do with me?" + +"A jolly companion that will spend his money like a man, and pass every +night like the last. Good wine, good cheer, pretty girls, and gay songs. +Is that such a bad trade?" + +After he had remained a moment without answering, the young man replied +with a gloomy air: "Why, on the eve of my leaving prison, did you attach +this condition to my freedom, that I should write to my mistress to tell +her that I would never see her again! Why did you exact this letter from +me?" + +"A sigh! what, are you still thinking of her?" + +"Always." + +"You are wrong. Your mistress is far from Paris by this time. I saw her +get into the stage-coach, before I came to take you out of Sainte +Pelagie." + +"Yes, I was stifled in that prison. To get out, I would have given my +soul to the devil. You thought so, and therefore you came to me; only, +instead of my soul, you took Cephyse from me. Poor Bacchanal-Queen! And +why did you do it? Thousand thunders! Will you tell me!" + +"A man as much attached to his mistress as you are is no longer a man. He +wants energy, when the occasion requires." + +"What occasion?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"You make me drink too much brandy." + +"Bah! look at me!" + +"That's what frightens me. It seems something devilish. A bottle of +brandy does not even make you wink. You must have a stomach of iron and a +head of marble." + +"I have long travelled in Russia. There we drink to roast ourselves." + +"And here to only warm. So--let's drink--but wine." + +"Nonsense! wine is fit for children. Brandy for men like us!" + +"Well, then, brandy; but it burns, and sets the head on fire, and then we +see all the flames of hell!" + +"That's how I like to see you, hang it!" + +"But when you told me that I was too much attached to my mistress, and +that I should want energy when the occasion required, of what occasion +did you speak?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"Stop a moment, comrade. I am no more of a fool than others. Your half +words have taught me something. + +"Well, what?" + +"You know that I have been a workman, that I have many companions, and +that, being a good fellow, I am much liked amongst them. You want me for +a catspaw, to catch other chestnuts?" + +"What then?" + +"You must be some getter-up of riots--some speculator in revolts." + +"What next?" + +"You are travelling for some anonymous society, that trades in musket +shots." + +"Are you a coward?" + +"I burned powder in July, I can tell you--make no mistakes!" + +"You would not mind burning some again?" + +"Just as well that sort of fireworks as any other. Only I find +revolutions more agreeable than useful; all that I got from the +barricades of the three days was burnt breeches and a lost jacket. All +the cause won by me, with its 'Forward! March!' says." + +"You know many of Hardy's workmen?" + +"Oh! that's why you have brought me down here?" + +"Yes--you will meet with many of the workmen from the factory." + +"Men from Hardy's take part in a row? No, no; they are too well off for +that. You have been sold." + +"You will see presently." + +"I tell you they are well off. What have they to complain of?" + +"What of their brethren--those who have not so good a master, and die of +hunger and misery, and call on them for assistance? Do you think they +will remain deaf to such a summons? Hardy is only an exception. Let the +people but give a good pull all together, and the exception will become +the rule, and all the world be happy." + +"What you say there is true, but it would be a devil of a pull that would +make an honest man out of my old master, Baron Tripeaud, who made me what +I am--an out-and-out rip." + +"Hardy's workmen are coming; you are their comrade, and have no interest +in deceiving them. They will believe you. Join with me in persuading +them--" + +"To what?" + +"To leave this factory, in which they grow effeminate and selfish, and +forget their brothers." + +"But if they leave the factory, how are they to live?" + +"We will provide for that--on the great day." + +"And what's to be done till then?" + +"What you have done last night--drink, laugh, sing, and, by way of work, +exercise themselves privately in the use of arms.' + +"Who will bring these workmen here?" + +"Some one has already spoken to them. They have had printed papers, +reproaching them with indifference to their brothers. Come, will you +support me?" + +"I'll support you--the more readily as I cannot very well support myself. +I only cared for Cephyse in the world; I know that I am on a bad road; +you are pushing me on further; let the ball roll!--Whether we go to the +devil one way or the other is not of much consequence. Let's drink." + +"Drink to our next night's fun; the last was only apprenticeship." + +"Of what then are you made? I looked at you, and never saw you either +blush or smile, or change countenance. You are like a man of iron." + +"I am not a lad of fifteen. It would take something more to make me +laugh. I shall laugh to-night." + +"I don't know if it's the brandy; but, devil take me, if you don't +frighten me when you say you shall laugh tonight!" + +So saying, the young man rose, staggering; he began to be once more +intoxicated. + +There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" The host made his appearance. + +"What's the matter?" + +"There's a young man below, who calls himself Olivier. He asks for M. +Morok." + +"That's right. Let him came up." The host went out. + +"It is one of our men, but he is alone," said Morok, whose savage +countenance expressed disappointment. "It astonishes me, for I expected a +good number. Do you know him?" + +"Olivier? Yes--a fair chap, I think." + +"We shall see him directly. Here he is." A young man, with an open, bold, +intelligent countenance, at this moment entered the room. + +"What! old Sleepinbuff!" he exclaimed, at sight of Morok's companion. + +"Myself. I have not seen you for an age, Olivier." + +"Simple enough, my boy. We do not work at the same place." + +"But you are alone!" cried Morok; and pointing to Sleepinbuff, he added: +"You may speak before him--he is one of us. But why are you alone?" + +"I come alone, but in the name of my comrades." + +"Oh!" said Morok, with a sigh of satisfaction, "they consent." + +"They refuse--just as I do!" + +"What, the devil! they refuse? Have they no more courage than women?" +cried Morok, grinding his teeth with rage. + +"Hark ye," answered Olivier, coolly. "We have received your letters, and +seen your agent. We have had proof that he is really connected with great +societies, many members of which are known to us." + +"Well! why do you hesitate?" + +"First of all, nothing proves that these societies are ready to make a +movement." + +"I tell you they are." + +"He--tells you--they are," said Sleepinbuff, stammering "and I (hic!) +affirm it. Forward! March!" + +"That's not enough," replied Olivier. "Besides, we have reflected upon +it. For a week the factory was divided. Even yesterday the discussion was +too warm to be pleasant. But this morning Father Simon called to him; we +explained ourselves fully before him, and he brought us all to one mind. +We mean to wait, and if any disturbance breaks out, we shall see." + +"Is that your final word?" + +"It is our last word." + +"Silence!" cried Sleepinbuff, suddenly, as he listened, balancing himself +on his tottering legs. "It is like the noise of a crowd not far off." A +dull sound was indeed audible, which became every moment more and more +distinct, and at length grew formidable. + +"What is that?" said Olivier, in surprise. + +"Now," replied Morok, smiling with a sinister air, "I remember the host +told me there was a great ferment in the village against the factory. If +you and your other comrades had separated from Hardy's other workmen, as +I hoped, these people who are beginning to howl would have been for you, +instead of against you." + +"This was a trap, then, to set one half of M. Hardy's workmen against the +other!" cried Olivier; "you hoped that we should make common cause with +these people against the factory, and that--" + +The young man had not time to finish. A terrible outburst of shouts, +howls, and hisses shook the tavern. At the same instant the door was +abruptly opened, and the host, pale and trembling, hurried into the +chamber, exclaiming: "Gentlemen! do any of you work at M. Hardy's +factory?" + +"I do," said Olivier. + +"Then you are lost. Here are the Wolves in a body, saying there are +Devourers here from M. Hardy's, and offering them battle--unless the +Devourers will give up the factory, and range themselves on their side." + +"It was a trap, there can be no doubt of it!" cried Olivier, looking at +Morok and Sleepinbuff, with a threatening air; "if my mates had come, we +were all to be let in." + +"I lay a trap, Olivier?" stammered Jacques Rennepont. "Never!" + +"Battle to the Devourers! or let them join the Wolves!" cried the angry +crowd with one voice, as they appeared to invade the house. + +"Come!" exclaimed the host. Without giving Olivier time to answer, he +seized him by the arm, and opening a window which led to a roof at no +very great height from the ground, he said to him: "Make your escape by +this window, let yourself slide down, and gain the fields; it is time." + +As the young workman hesitated, the host added, with a look of terror: + +"Alone, against a couple of hundred, what can you do? A minute more, and +you are lost. Do you not hear them? They have entered the yard; they are +coming up." + +Indeed, at this moment, the groans, the hisses, and cheers redoubled in +violence; the wooden staircase which led to the first story shook beneath +the quick steps of many persons, and the shout arose, loud and piercing: +"Battle to the Devourers!" + +"Fly, Olivier!" cried Sleepinbuff, almost sobered by the danger. + +Hardly had he pronounced the words when the door of the large room, which +communicated with the small one in which they were, was burst open with a +frightful crash. + +"Here they are!" cried the host, clasping his hands in alarm. Then, +running to Olivier, he pushed him, as it were, out of the window; for, +with one foot on the sill, the workman still hesitated. + +The window once closed, the publican returned towards Morok the instant +the latter entered the large room, into which the leaders of the Wolves +had just forced an entry, whilst their companions were vociferating in +the yard and on the staircase. Eight or ten of these madmen, urged by +others to take part in these scenes of disorder, had rushed first into +the room, with countenances inflamed by wine and anger; most of them were +armed with long sticks. A blaster, of Herculean strength and stature, +with an old red handkerchief about his head, its ragged ends streaming +over his shoulders, miserably dressed in a half-worn goat-skin, +brandished an iron drilling-rod, and appeared to direct the movements. +With bloodshot eyes, threatening and ferocious countenance, he advanced +towards the small room, as if to drive back Morok, and exclaimed, in a +voice of thunder: + +"Where are the Devourers?--the Wolves will eat 'em up!" + +The host hastened to open the door of the small room, saying: "There is +no one here, my friends--no one. Look for yourselves." + +"It is true," said the quarryman, surprised, after peeping into the room; +"where are they, then? We were told there were a dozen of them here. They +should have marched with us against the factory, or there'd 'a been a +battle, and the Wolves would have tried their teeth!" + +"If they have not come," said another, "they will come. Let's wait." + +"Yes, yes; we will wait for them." + +"We will look close at each other." + +"If the Wolves want to see the Devourers," said Morok, "why not go and +howl round the factory of the miscreant atheists? At the first howl of +the Wolves they will come out, and give you battle." + +"They will give you--battle," repeated Sleepinbuff, mechanically. + +"Unless the Wolves are afraid of the Devourers," added Morok. + +"Since you talk of fear, you shall go with us, and see who's afraid!" +cried the formidable blaster, and in a thundering voice, he advanced +towards Morok. + +A number of voices joined in with, "Who says the Wolves are afraid of the +Devourers?" + +"It would be the first time!" + +"Battle! battle! and make an end of it!" + +"We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so +well off?" + +"They have said that quarrymen are brutes, only fit to torn wheels in a +shaft, like dogs to turn spits," cried an emissary of Baron Tripeaud's. + +"And that the Devourers would make themselves caps with wolf-skin," added +another. + +"Neither they nor their wives ever go to mass. They are pagans and dogs!" +cried an emissary of the preaching abbe. + +"The men might keep their Sunday as they pleased; but their wives not to +go to mass!--it is abominable. + +"And, therefore, the curate has said that their factory, because of its +abominations, might bring down the cholera to the country." + +"True? he said that in his sermon." + +"Our wives heard it." + +"Yes, yes; down with the Devourers, who want to bring the cholera on the +country!" + +"Hooray, for a fight!" cried the crowd in chorus. + +"To the factory, my brave Wolves!" cried Morok, with the voice of a +Stentor; "on to the factory!" + +"Yes! to the factory! to the factory!" repeated the crowd, with furious +stamping; for, little by little, all who could force their way into the +room, or up the stairs, had there collected together. + +These furious cries recalling Jacques for a moment to his senses, he +whispered to Morok: "It is slaughter you would provoke? I wash my hands +of it." + +"We shall have time to let them know at the factory. We can give these +fellows the slip on the road," answered Morok. Then he cried aloud, +addressing the host, who was terrified at this disorder: "Brandy!--let us +drink to the health of the brave Wolves! I will stand treat." He threw +some money to the host, who disappeared, and soon returned with several +bottles of brandy, and some glasses. + +"What! glasses?" cried Morok. "Do jolly companions, like we are, drink +out of glasses?" So saying, he forced out one of the corks, raised the +neck of the bottle to his lips, and, having drunk a deep draught, passed +it to the gigantic quarryman. + +"That's the thing!" said the latter. "Here's in honor of the treat!--None +but a sneak will refuse, for this stuff will sharpen the Wolves' teeth!" + +"Here's to your health, mates!" said Morok, distributing the bottles. + +"There will be blood at the end of all this," muttered Sleepinbuff, who, +in spite of his intoxication, perceived all the danger of these fatal +incitements. Indeed, a large portion of the crowd was already quitting +the yard of the public-house, and advancing rapidly towards M. Hardy's +factory. + +Those of the workmen and inhabitants of the village, who had not chosen +to take any part in this movement of hostility (they were the majority), +did not make their appearance, as this threatening troop passed along the +principal street; but a good number of women, excited to fanaticism by +the sermons of the abbe, encouraged the warlike assemblage with their +cries. At the head of the troop advanced the gigantic blaster, +brandishing his formidable bar, followed by a motley mass, armed with +sticks and stones. Their heads still warmed by their recent libations of +brandy, they had now attained a frightful state of frenzy. Their +countenances were ferocious, inflamed, terrible. This unchaining of the +worst passions seemed to forbode the most deplorable consequences. +Holding each other arm-in-arm, and walking four or five together, the +Wolves gave vent to their excitement in war-songs, which closed with the +following verse: + +"Forward! full of assurance! Let us try our vigorous arms! They have +wearied out our prudence; Let us show we've no alarms. Sprung from a +monarch glorious,[28] To-day we'll not grow pale, Whether we win the fight, +or fail, Whether we die, or are victorious! Children of Solomon, mighty +king, All your efforts together bring, Till in triumph we shall sing!" + +Morok and Jacques had disappeared whilst the tumultuous troop were +leaving the tavern to hasten to the factory. + +[27] Let it be noted, to the working-man's credit, that such outrageous +scenes become more and more rare as he is enlightened to the full +consciousness of his worth. Such better tendencies are to be attributed +to the just influence of an excellent tract on trades' union written by +M. Agricole Perdignier, and published in 1841, Paris. This author, a +joiner, founded at his own expense an establishment in the Faubourg St. +Antoine, where some forty or fifty of his trade lodged, and were given, +after the day's work, a course of geometry, etc., applied to wood +carving. We went to one of the lectures, and found as much clearness in +the professor as attention and intelligence in the audience. At ten, +after reading selections, all the lodgers retire, forced by their scanty +wages to sleep, perhaps, four in a room. M. Perdignier informed us that +study and instruction were such powerful ameliorators, that, during six +years, he had only one of his lodgers to expel. "In a few days," he +remarked, "the bad eggs find out, this is no place for them to addle +sound ones!" We are happy to hear, reader, public homage to a learned and +upright man, devoted to his fellow-workmen. + +[28] The Wolves (among others) ascribe the institution of their company to +King Solomon. See the curious work by M. Agricole Perdignier, from which +the war-song is extracted. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE + +Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack on the +Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air, +perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind was +from the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock had +just struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separated +from the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sun +bathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league from +Paris, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible the +woody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city. +Nothing could be plainer, and yet more cheerful than the aspect of the +Common Dwelling-house of the workmen. Its slanting roof of red tiles +projected over white walls, divided here and there by broad rows of +bricks, which contrasted agreeably with the green color of the blinds on +the first and second stories. + +These buildings, open to the south and east, were surrounded by a large +garden of about ten acres, partly planted with trees, and partly laid out +in fruit and kitchen-garden. Before continuing this description, which +perhaps will appear a little like a fairy-tale, let us begin by saying, +that the wonders, of which we are about to present the sketch, must not +to be considered Utopian dreams; nothing, on the contrary, could be of a +more positive character, and we are able to assert, and even to prove +(what in our time is of great weight and interest), that these wonders +were the result of an excellent speculation, and represented an +investment as lucrative as it was secure. To undertake a vast, noble, and +most useful enterprise; to bestow on a considerable number of human +creatures an ideal prosperity, compared with the frightful, almost +homicidal doom, to which they are generally condemned; to instruct them, +and elevate them in their own esteem; to make them prefer to the coarse +pleasures of the tavern, or rather to the fatal oblivion which they find +there, as an escape from the consciousness of their deplorable destiny, +the pleasures, of the intellect and the enjoyments of art; in a word, to +make men moral by making them happy, and finally, thanks to this generous +example, so easy of imitation, to take a place amongst the benefactors of +humanity--and yet, at the same time to do, as it were, without knowing +it, an excellent stroke of business--may appear fabulous. And yet this +was the secret of the wonders of which we speak. + +Let us enter the interior of the factory. Ignorant of Mother Bunch's +cruel disappearance, Agricola gave himself up to the most happy, thoughts +as he recalled Angela's image, and, having finished dressing with unusual +care, went in search of his betrothed. + +Let us say two words on the subject of the lodging, which the smith +occupied in the Common Dwelling-house, at the incredibly low rate of +seventy-five francs per annum like the other bachelors on the +establishment. This lodging, situated on the second story, was comprised +of a capital chamber and bedroom, with a southern aspect, and looking on +the garden; the pine floor was perfectly white and clean; the iron +bedstead was supplied with a good mattress and warm coverings; a gas +burner and a warm-air pipe were also introduced into the rooms, to +furnish light and heat as required; the walls were hung with pretty fancy +papering, and had curtains to match; a chest of drawers, a walnut table, +a few chairs, a small library, comprised Agricola's furniture. Finally, +in the large and light closet, was a place for his clothes, a dressing +table, and large zinc basin, with an ample supply of water. If we compare +this agreeable, salubrious, comfortable lodging, with the dark, icy, +dilapidated garret, for which the worthy fellow paid ninety francs at his +mother's, and to get to which he had more than a league and a half to go +every evening, we shall understand the sacrifice he made to his affection +for that excellent woman. + +Agricola, after casting a last glance of tolerable satisfaction at his +looking-glass, while he combed his moustache and imperial, quitted his +chamber, to go and join Angela in the women's workroom. The corridor, +along which he had to pass, was broad, well-lighted from above, floored +with pine, and extremely clean. Notwithstanding some seeds of discord +which had been lately sown by M. Hardy's enemies amongst his workmen, +until now so fraternally united, joyous songs were heard in almost all +the apartments which skirted the corridor, and, as Agricola passed before +several open doors, he exchanged a cordial good-morrow with many of his +comrades. The smith hastily descended the stairs, crossed the court yard, +in which was a grass-plot planted with trees, with a fountain in the +centre, and gained the other wing of the building. There was the +workroom, in which a portion of the wives and daughters of the associated +artisans, who happened not to be employed in the factory, occupied +themselves in making up the linen. This labor, joined to the enormous +saving effected by the purchase of the materials wholesale, reduced to an +incredible extent the price of each article. After passing through this +workroom, a vast apartment looking on the garden, well-aired in summer,[29] +and well-warmed in winter, Agricola knocked at the door of the rooms +occupied by Angela's mother. + +If we say a few words with regard to this lodging, situated on the first +story, with an eastern aspect, and also looking on the garden, it is that +we may tape it as a specimen of the habitation of a family in this +association, supplied at the incredibly small price of one hundred and +twenty-five francs per annum. + +A small entrance, opening on the corridor, led to a large room, on each +side of which was a smaller chamber, destined for the family, when the +boys and girls were too big to continue to sleep in the two dormitories, +arranged after the fashion of a large school, and reserved for the +children of both sexes. Every night the superintendence of these +dormitories was entrusted to a father and mother of a family, belonging +to the association. The lodging of which we speak, being, like all the +others, disencumbered of the paraphernalia of a kitchen--for the cooking +was done in common, and on a large scale, in another part of the +building--was kept extremely clean. A pretty large piece of carpet, a +comfortable arm-chair, some pretty-looking china on a stand of well +polished wood, some prints hung against the walls, a clock of gilt +bronze, a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mahogany secretary, announced +that the inhabitants of this apartment enjoyed not only the necessaries, +but some of the luxuries of life. Angela, who, from this time, might be +called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering +portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor +Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed +with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her +mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him. + +"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if your +mother has no objection." + +"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girl +cordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with her +father, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasure with +you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, should do +the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting for you an +hour, and with such impatience!" + +"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking of the +pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse." + +"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, and +becoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?" + +"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Go +with M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, what +all the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what a +pity that your good little adopted sister is not with us." + +"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only a +pleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be the +last." + +Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they went +out together. + +"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I was +surprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see so +much misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I too +have had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. It is +really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask my mother +the explanation of these wonders, she tells me, 'M. Agricola will explain +it all to you.'" + +"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task, +mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender. +"Nothing could be more in season." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all the +resources of our association, is to be able to say to you: 'Here, the +workman, sure of the present, sure of the future, is not, like so many of +his poor brothers, obliged to renounce the sweetest want of the +heart--the desire of choosing a companion for life--in the fear of +uniting misery to misery."' + +Angela cast down her eyes, and blushed. + +"Here the workman may safely yield to the hope of knowing the sweet joys +of a family, sure of not having his heart torn hereafter by the sight of +the horrible privations of those who are dear to him; here, thanks to +order and industry, and the wise employment of the strength of all, men, +women, and children live happy and contented. In a ward, to explain all +this to you, mademoiselle," added Agricola, smiling with a still more +tender air, "is to prove, that here we can do nothing more reasonable +than love, nothing wiser than marry." + +"M. Agricola," answered Angela, in a slightly agitated voice, and +blushing still more as she spoke, "suppose we were to begin our walk." + +"Directly, mademoiselle," replied the smith, pleased at the trouble he +had excited in that ingenuous soul. "But, come; we are near the dormitory +of the little girls. The chirping birds have long left their nests. Let +us go there." + +"Willingly, M. Agricola." + +The young smith and Angela soon entered a spacious dormitory, resembling +that of a first-rate boarding school. The little iron bedsteads were +arranged in symmetrical order; at each end were the beds of the two +mothers of families, who took the superintendence by turns. + +"Dear me! how well it is arranged, M. Agricola, and how neat and clean! +Who is it that takes such good care of it?" + +"The children themselves; we have no servants here. There is an +extraordinary emulation between these urchins--as to who shall make her +bed most neatly, and it amuses them quite as much as making a bed for +their dolls. Little girls, you know, delight in playing at keeping house. +Well, here they play at it in good earnest, and the house is admirably +kept in consequence." + +"Oh! I understand. They turn to account their natural taste for all such +kinds of amusement." + +"That is the whole secret. You will see them everywhere usefully +occupied, and delighted at the importance of the employments given them." + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, timidly, "only compare these fine +dormitories, so warm and healthy, with the horrible icy garrets, where +children are heaped pell-mell on a wretched straw-mattress, shivering +with cold, as in the case with almost all the workmen's families in our +country!" + +"And in Paris, mademoiselle, it is even worse." + +"Oh! how kind, generous, and rich must M. Hardy be, to spend so much +money in doing good!" + +"I am going to astonish you, mademoiselle!" said Agricola, with a smile; +"to astonish you so much, that perhaps you will not believe me." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"There is not certainly in the world a man with a better and more +generous heart than M. Hardy; he does good for its own sake and without +thinking of his personal interest. And yet, Mdlle. Angela, were he the +most selfish and avaricious of men, he would still find it greatly to his +advantage to put us in a position to be as comfortable as we are." + +"Is it possible, M. Agricola? You tell me so, and I believe it; but if +good can so easily be done, if there is even an advantage in doing it, +why is it not more commonly attempted?" + +"Ah! mademoiselle, it requires three gifts very rarely met with in the +same person--knowledge, power and will." + +"Alas! yes. Those who have the knowledge, have not the power." + +"And those who have the power, have neither the knowledge nor the will." + +"But how does M. Hardy find any advantage in the good he does for you?" + +"I will explain that presently, mademoiselle." + +"Oh, what a nice, sweet smell of fruit!" said Angela, suddenly. + +"Our common fruit-store is close at hand. I wager we shall find there +some of the little birds from the dormitory--not occupied in picking and +stealing, but hard at work." + +Opening a door, Agricola led Angela into a large room, furnished with +shelves, on which the winter fruits were arranged in order. A number of +children, from seven to eight years old, neatly and warmly clad, and +glowing with health, exerted themselves cheerfully, under the +superintendence of a woman, in separating and sorting the spoiled fruit. + +"You see," said Agricola, "wherever it is possible, we make use of the +children. These occupations are amusements for them, answering to the +need of movement and activity natural to their age; and, in this way, we +can employ the grown girls and the women to much better advantage." + +"True, M. Agricola; how well it is all arranged." + +"And if you saw what services the urchins in the kitchen render! Directed +by one or two women, they do the work of eight or ten servants." + +"In fact," said Angela, smiling, "at their age, we like so much to play +at cooking dinner. They must be delighted." + +"And, in the same way, under pretext of playing at gardening, they weed +the ground, gather the fruit and vegetables, water the flowers, roll the +paths, and so on. In a word, this army of infant-workers, who generally +remain till ten or twelve years of age without being of any service, are +here very useful. Except three hours of school, which is quite sufficient +for them, from the age of six or seven their recreations are turned to +good account, and the dear little creatures, by the saving of full-grown +arms which they effect, actually gain more than they cost; and then, +mademoiselle, do you not think there is something in the presence of +childhood thus mixed up with every labor--something mild, pure, almost +sacred, which has its influence on our words and actions, and imposes a +salutary reserve? The coarsest man will respect the presence of +children." + +"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is really +designed for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration. + +"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquer +prejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here we +are at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing as +that of a barrack or a public school?" + +Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house was immense. +All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to the marvellous and +economical inventions of modern science (which are always beyond the +reach of the poorer classes, to whom they are most necessary, because +they can only be practised on a large scale), not only the fire on the +hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity of fuel that +would have been consumed by each family individually, but the excess of +the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes, to spread a +mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. And here also +children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerous services. +Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in which they +performed their culinary functions; it was the same with the assistance +they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary saving in the +price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellent household +bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable to that whiter +bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to some deleterious +substance. + +"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, who +was gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthy of +Gamache's Wedding so heavily were they laden with pieces of beef, mutton, +and veal, which began to assume a fine golden brown color of the most +attractive kind; "good-day, Dame Bertrand. According to the rule, I do not +pass the threshold of the kitchen. I only wish it to be admired by this +young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us." + +"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good these +brats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed with +the long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen children +of both sexes, seated round a table, and deeply absorbed in the exercise +of their functions, which consisted in peeling potatoes and picking +herbs. + +"We are, I see, to have a downright Belshazzar's feast, Dame Bertrand?" +said Agricola, laughing. + +"Faith, a feast like we have always, my lad. Here is our bill of fare for +to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad, fruit, +cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts made by +Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now." + +"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," said +Agricola, gayly. "One soon knows when it is your turn in the kitchen," +added he, with a flattering air. + +"Get along, do!" said the female Soyer on service, merrily. + +"What astonishes me, so much, M. Agricola," said Angela, as they +continued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient, unwholesome +food of the workmen in our country, with that which is provided here." + +"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for much +better food than we should get for three francs in Paris." + +"But really it is hard to believe, M. Agricola. How is it possible?" + +"It is thanks to the magic wand of M. Hardy. I will explain it all +presently." + +"Oh! how impatient I am to see M. Hardy!" + +"You will soon see him--perhaps to-day; for he is expected every moment. +But here is the refectory, which you do not yet know, as your family, +like many others, prefer dining at home. See what a fine room, looking +out on the garden, just opposite the fountain!" + +It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with ten +windows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth, +were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartment served in +the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those who preferred to +pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or with their families. +Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantly lighted with gas, +some read, some played cards, some talked, and some occupied themselves +with easy work. + +"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you will +like this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdays and +Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays a +concert-room." + +"Really!" + +"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians, quite +capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearly all of us +sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, this week, some +disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented our concerts." + +"So many voices! that must be superb." + +"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged this +amusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerful an +effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for two pupils of +the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has made great +progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flattering +ourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundred +voices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hear +it, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great and +elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices, +blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound." + +"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life of +joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure." + +"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied +Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed +situation?" + +"Yes; what is it?" + +"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode +of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have +a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a +manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two +thirds of what he would have gained in health." + +"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side of +the grass-plot?" + +"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under +yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and the +lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses." + +"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?" + +"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle." + +Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girl +was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the +garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common +Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound of +trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two horses, +approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his +appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail and +crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after the +fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery, the +red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet, with +its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, and was +crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for the +marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and +chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment +Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela and +Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang lightly to +the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in livery, who +followed also on horseback. + +"Where shall I wait for your grace?" asked the groom. + +"At the end of the avenue," said the marshal. + +And, uncovering his head respectfully, he advanced hastily with his hat +in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had not previously +perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue; he was an +old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He wore a very neat +blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With his hands in his +pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe. + +"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as he +affectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returned +the pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay we are!" +added he, with a smile. + +"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took the +opportunity to call on you as soon as possible." + +"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do every +Sunday?" + +"They are coming in a carriage, father, and Dagobert accompanies them." + +"But what is the matter? you appear full of thought." + +"Indeed, father," said the marshal, with a somewhat agitated air, "I have +serious things to talk about." + +"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal and his +father disappeared at the turn of the avenue. + +Angela had been struck with amazement at seeing this brilliant General, +who was entitled "your grace," salute an old workman in a blouse as his +father; and, looking at Agricola with a confused air she said to him: +"What, M. Agricola! this old workman--" + +"Is the father of Marshal Duke de Ligny--the friend--yes, I may say the +friend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twenty +years served under him in war.' + +"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to his +father!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but why +does he let his father remain a workman?" + +"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory for +anything in the world. He was born a workman, and he will die a workman, +though he is the father of a duke and marshal of France." + +[29] See Adolphe Bobierre "On Air and Health," Paris, 1844. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE SECRET. + +When the very natural astonishment which the arrival of Marshal Simon had +caused in Angela had passed away, Agricola said to her with a smile: "I +do not wish to take advantage of this circumstance, Mdlle. Angela, to +spare you the account of the secret, by which all the wonders of our +Common Dwelling-house are brought to pass." + +"Oh! I should not have let you forget your promise, M. Agricola," +answered Angela, "what you have already told me interests me too much for +that." + +"Listen, then. M. Hardy, like a true magician, has pronounced three +cabalistic words: ASSOCIATION--COMMUNITY--FRATERNITY. We have understood +the sense of these words, and the wonders you have seen have sprung from +them, to our great advantage; and also, I repeat, to the great advantage +of M. Hardy." + +"It is that which appears so extraordinary, M. Agricola." + +"Suppose, mademoiselle, that M. Hardy, instead of being what he is, had +only been a cold-hearted speculator, looking merely to the profit, and +saying to himself: 'To make the most of my factory, what is needed? Good +work--great economy in the raw material--full employment of the workman's +time; in a word, cheapness of manufacture, in order to produce +cheaply--excellence of the thing produced, in order to sell dear.'" + +"Truly, M. Agricola, no manufacturer could desire more." + +"Well, mademoiselle, these conditions might have been fulfilled, as they +have been, but how? Had M. Hardy only been a speculator, he might have +said: 'At a distance from my factory, my workmen might have trouble to +get there: rising earlier, they will sleep less; it is a bad economy to +take from the sleep so necessary to those who toil. When they get feeble, +the work suffers for it; then the inclemency of the seasons makes it +worse; the workman arrives wet, trembling with cold, enervated before he +begins to work--and then, what work!'" + +"It is unfortunately but too true, M. Agricola. At Lille, when I reached +the factory, wet through with a cold rain, I used sometimes to shiver all +day long at my work." + +"Therefore, Mdlle. Angela, the speculator might say: 'To lodge my workmen +close to the door of my factory would obviate this inconvenience. Let us +make the calculation. In Paris the married workman pays about two hundred +and fifty francs a-year,[30] for one or two wretched rooms and a closet, +dark, small, unhealthy, in a narrow, miserable street; there he lives +pell-mell with his family. What ruined constitutions are the consequence! +and what sort of work can you expect from a feverish and diseased +creature? As for the single men, they pay for a smaller, and quite as +unwholesome lodging, about one hundred and fifty francs a-year. Now, let +us make the addition. I employ one hundred and forty-six married workmen, +who pay together, for their wretched holes, thirty-six thousand five +hundred francs; I employ also one hundred and fifteen bachelors, who pay +at the rate of seventeen thousand two hundred and eighty francs; the +total will amount to about fifty thousand francs per annum, the interest +on a million."' + +"Dear me, M. Agricola! what a sum to be produced by uniting all these +little rents together!" + +"You see, mademoiselle, that fifty thousand francs a-year is a +millionaire's rent. Now, what says our speculator: To induce our workmen +to leave Paris, I will offer them, enormous advantages. I will reduce +their rent one-half, and, instead of small, unwholesome rooms, they shall +have large, airy apartments, well-warmed and lighted, at a trifling +charge. Thus, one hundred and forty-six families, paying me only one +hundred and twenty-five francs a-year, and one hundred and fifteen +bachelors, seventy-five francs, I shall have a total of twenty-six to +twenty-seven thousand francs. Now, a building large enough to hold all +these people would cost me at most five hundred thousand francs.[31] I +shall then have invested my money at five per cent at the least, and with +perfect security, since the wages is a guarantee for the payment of the +rent.'" + +"Ah, M. Agricola! I begin to understand how it may sometimes be +advantageous to do good, even in a pecuniary sense." + +"And I am almost certain, mademoiselle, that, in the long run, affairs +conducted with uprightness and honesty turn out well. But to return to +our speculator. 'Here,' will he say, 'are my workmen, living close to my +factory, well lodged, well warmed, and arriving always fresh at their +work. That is not all; the English workman who eats good beef, and drinks +good beer, does twice as much, in the same time, as the French workman,[32] +reduced to a detestable kind of food, rather weakening than the reverse, +thanks to the poisonous adulteration of the articles he consumes. My +workmen will then labor much better, if they eat much better. How shall I +manage it without loss? Now I think of it, what is the food in barracks, +schools, even prisons? Is it not the union of individual resources which +procures an amount of comfort impossible to realize without such an +association? Now, if my two hundred and sixty workmen, instead of cooking +two hundred and sixty detestable dinners, were to unite to prepare one +good dinner for all of them, which might be done, thanks to the savings +of all sorts that would ensue, what an advantage for me and them! Two or +three women, aided by children, would suffice to make ready the daily +repasts; instead of buying wood and charcoal in fractions,[33] and so +paying for it double its value, the association of my workmen would, upon +my security (their wages would be an efficient security for me in +return), lay in their own stock of wood, flour, butter, oil, wine, etc., +all which they would procure directly from the producers. Thus, they +would pay three or four sous for a bottle of pure wholesome wine, instead +of paying twelve or fifteen sous for poison. Every week the association +would buy a whole ox, and some sheep, and the women would make bread, as +in the country. Finally, with these resources, and order, and economy, my +workmen may have wholesome, agreeable, and sufficient food, for from +twenty to twenty-five sous a day.'" + +"Ah! this explains it, M. Agricola." + +"It is not all, mademoiselle. Our cool-headed speculator would continue: +'Here are my workmen well lodged, well warmed, well fed, with a saving of +at least half; why should they not also be warmly clad? Their health will +then have every chance of being good, and health is labor. The +association will buy wholesale, and at the manufacturing price (still +upon my security, secured to me by their wages), warm, good, strong +materials, which a portion of the workmen's wives will be able to make +into clothes as well as any tailor. Finally, the consumption of caps and +shoes being considerable, the association will obtain them at a great +reduction in price.' Well, Mdlle. Angela! what do you say to our +speculator?" + +"I say, M. Agricola," answered the young girl; with ingenuous admiration, +"that it is almost incredible, and yet so simple!" + +"No doubt, nothing is more simple than the good and beautiful, and yet we +think of it so seldom. Observe, that our man has only been speaking with +a view to his own interest--only considering the material side of the +question--reckoning for nothing the habit of fraternity and mutual aid, +which inevitably springs from living together in common--not reflecting +that a better mode of life improves and softens the character of man--not +thinking of the support and instruction which the strong owe to the +weak--not acknowledging, in fine, that the honest, active, and +industrious man has a positive right to demand employment from society, +and wages proportionate to the wants of his condition. No, our speculator +only thinks of the gross profits; and yet, you see, he invests his money +in buildings at five per cent., and finds the greatest advantages in the +material comfort of his workmen." + +"It is true, M. Agricola." + +"And what will you say, mademoiselle, when I prove to you that our +speculator finds also a great advantage in giving to his workmen, in +addition to their regular wages, a proportionate share of his profits?" + +"That appears to me more difficult to prove, M. Agricola." + +"Yet I will convince you of it in a few minutes." + +Thus conversing, Angela and Agricola had reached the garden-gate of the +Common Dwelling-house. An elderly woman, dressed plainly, but with care +and neatness, approached Agricola, and asked him: "Has M. Hardy returned +to the factory, sir?" + +"No, madame; but we expect him hourly." + +"To-day, perhaps?" + +"To-day or to-morrow, madame." + +"You cannot tell me at what hour he will be here?" + +"I do not think it is known, madame, but the porter of the factory, who +also belongs to M. Hardy's private house, may, perhaps, be able to inform +you." + +"I thank you, sir." + +"Quite welcome, madame." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, when the woman who had just questioned him +was gone, "did you remark that this lady was very pale and agitated?" + +"I noticed it as you did, mademoiselle; I thought I saw tears standing in +her eyes." + +"Yes, she seemed to have been crying. Poor woman! perhaps she came to ask +assistance of M. Hardy. But what ails you, M. Agricola? You appear quite +pensive." + +Agricola had a vague presentiment that the visit of this elderly woman +with so sad a countenance, had some connection with the adventure of the +young and pretty lady, who, three days before had come all agitated and +in tears to inquire after M. Hardy, and who had learned--perhaps too +late--that she was watched and followed. + +"Forgive me, mademoiselle," said Agricola to Angela; "but the presence of +this old lady reminded me of a circumstance, which, unfortunately, I +cannot tell you, for it is a secret that does not belong to me alone." + +"Oh! do not trouble yourself, M. Agricola," answered the young girl, with +a smile; "I am not inquisitive, and what we were talking of before +interests me so much, that I do not wish to hear you speak of anything +else." + +"Well, then mademoiselle, I will say a few words more, and you will be as +well informed as I am of the secrets of our association." + +"I am listening, M. Agricola." + +"Let us still keep in view the speculator from mere interest. 'Here are +my workmen, says he, 'in the best possible condition to do a great deal +of work. Now what is to be done to obtain large profits? Produce cheaply, +and sell dear. But there will be no cheapness, without economy in the use +of the raw material, perfection of the manufacturing process, and +celerity of labor. Now, in spite of all my vigilance, how am I to prevent +my workmen from wasting the materials? How am I to induce them, each in +his own province, to seek for the most simple and least irksome +processes?" + +"True, M. Agricola; how is that to be done?" + +"'And that is not all,' says our man; 'to sell my produce at high prices, +it should be irreproachable, excellent. My workmen do pretty well; but +that is not enough. I want them to produce masterpieces.'" + +"But, M. Agricola, when they have once performed the task set them what +interest have workmen to give themselves a great deal of trouble to +produce masterpieces?" + +"There it is, Mdlle. Angela; what interest have they? Therefore, our +speculator soon says to himself: 'That my workmen may have an interest to +be economical in the use of the materials, an interest to employ their +time well, an interest to invent new and better manufacturing processes, +an interest to send out of their hands nothing but masterpieces--I must +give them an interest in the profits earned by their economy, activity, +zeal and skill. The better they manufacture, the better I shall sell, and +the larger will be their gain and mine also.'" + +"Oh! now I understand, M. Agricola." + +"And our speculator would make a good speculation. Before he was +interested, the workman said: 'What does it matter to me, that I do more +or do better in the course of the day? What shall I gain by it? Nothing. +Well, then, little work for little wages. But now, on the contrary (he +says), I have an interest in displaying zeal and economy. All is changed. +I redouble my activity, and strive to excel the others. If a comrade is +lazy, and likely to do harm to the factory, I have the right to say to +him: 'Mate, we all suffer more or less from your laziness, and from the +injury you are doing the common weal.'" + +"And then, M. Agricola, with what ardor, courage, and hope, you must set +to work!" + +"That is what our speculator counts on; and he may say to himself, +further: 'Treasures of experience and practical wisdom are often buried +in workshops, for want of goodwill, opportunity, or encouragement. +Excellent workmen, instead of making all the improvements in their power, +follow with indifference the old jog-trot. What a pity! for an +intelligent man, occupied all his life with some special employment, must +discover, in the long run, a thousand ways of doing his work better and +quicker. I will form, therefore, a sort of consulting committee; I will +summon to it my foremen and my most skillful workmen. Our interest is now +the same. Light will necessarily spring from this centre of practical +intelligence.' Now, the speculator is not deceived in this, and soon +struck with the incredible resources, the thousand new, ingenious, +perfect inventions suddenly revealed by his workmen, 'Why' he exclaims, +'if you knew this, did you not tell it before? What for the last ten +years has cost me a hundred francs to make, would have cost me only +fifty, without reckoning an enormous saving of time.' 'Sir,' answers the +workman, who is not more stupid than others, 'what interest had I, that +you should effect a saving of fifty per cent? None. But now it is +different. You give me, besides my wages, a share in your profits; you +raise me in my own esteem, by consulting my experience and knowledge. +Instead of treating me as an inferior being, you enter into communion +with me. It is my interest, it is my duty, to tell you all I know, and to +try to acquire more.' And thus it is, Mdlle. Angela, that the speculator +can organize his establishment, so as to shame his oppositionists, and +provoke their envy. Now if, instead of a cold hearted calculator, we tape +a man who unites with the knowledge of these facts the tender and +generous sympathies of an evangelical heart, and the elevation of a +superior mind, he will extend his ardent solicitude; not only to the +material comfort, but to the moral emancipation, of his workmen. Seeking +everywhere every possible means to develop their intelligence, to improve +their hearts, and strong in the authority acquired by his beneficence, +feeling that he on whom depends the happiness or the misery of three +hundred human creatures has also the care of souls, he will be the guide +of those whom he no longer calls his workmen, but his brothers, in a +straightforward and noble path, and will try to create in them the taste +for knowledge and art, which will render them happy and proud of a +condition of life that is often accepted by others with tears and curses +of despair. Well, Mdlle. Angela, such a man is--but, see! he could not +arrive amongst us except in the middle of a blessing. There he is--there +is M. Hardy!" + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, deeply moved, and drying her tears; "we +should receive him with our hands clasped in gratitude." + +"Look if that mild and noble countenance is not the image of his +admirable soul!" + +A carriage with post horses, in which was M. Hardy, with M. de Blessac, +the unworthy friend who was betraying him in so infamous a manner, +entered at this moment the courtyard of the factory. + +A little while after, a humble hackney-coach was seen advancing also +towards the factory, from the direction of Paris. In this coach was +Rodin. + +[30] The average price of a workman's lodging, composed of two small rooms +and a closet at most, on the third or fourth story. + +[31] This calculation is amply sufficient, if not excessive. A similar +building, at one league from Paris, on the side of Montrouge, with all +the necessary offices, kitchen, wash-houses, etc., with gas and water +laid on, apparatus for warming, etc., and a garden of ten acres, cost, at +the period of this narrative, hardly five hundred thousand francs. An +experienced builder less obliged us with an estimate, which confirms what +we advance. It is, therefore, evident, that, even at the same price which +workmen are in the habit of paying, it would be possible to provide them +with perfectly healthy lodgings, and yet invest one's money at ten per +cent. + +[32] The fact was proved in the works connected with the Rouen Railway. +Those French workmen who, having no families, were able to live like the +English, did at least as much work as the latter, being strengthened by +wholesome and sufficient nourishment. + +[33] Buying penny-worths, like all other purchases at minute retail, are +greatly to the poor man's disadvantage. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +REVELATIONS. + +During the visit of Angela and Agricola to the Common Dwelling-house, the +band of Wolves, joined upon the road by many of the haunters of taverns, +continued to march towards the factory, which the hackney-coach, that +brought Rodin from Paris, was also fast approaching. M. Hardy, on getting +out of the carriage with his friend, M. de Blessac, had entered the +parlor of the house that he occupied next the factory. M. Hardy was of +middle size, with an elegant and slight figure, which announced a nature +essentially nervous and impressionable. His forehead was broad and open, +his complexion pale, his eyes black, full at once of mildness and +penetration, his countenance honest, intelligent, and attractive. + +One word will paint the character of M. Hardy. His mother had called him +her Sensitive Plant. His was indeed one of those fine and exquisitely +delicate organizations, which are trusting, loving, noble, generous, but +so susceptible, that the least touch makes them shrink into themselves. +If we join to this excessive sensibility a passionate love for art, a +first-rate intellect, tastes essentially refined, and then think of the +thousand deceptions, and numberless infamies of which M. Hardy must have +been the victim in his career as a manufacturer, we shall wonder how this +heart, so delicate and tender, had not been broken a thousand times, in +its incessant struggle with merciless self-interest. M. Hardy had indeed +suffered much. Forced to follow the career of productive industry, to +honor the engagements of his father, a model of uprightness and probity, +who had yet left his affairs somewhat embarrassed, in consequence of the +events of 1815, he had succeeded, by perseverance and capacity, in +attaining one of the most honorable positions in the commercial world. +But, to arrive at this point, what ignoble annoyances had he to bear +with, what perfidious opposition to combat, what hateful rivalries to +tire out! + +Sensitive as he was, M. Hardy would a thousand times have fallen a victim +to his emotions of painful indignation against baseness, of bitter +disgust at dishonesty, but for the wise and firm support of his mother. +When he returned to her, after a day of painful struggles with odious +deceptions, he found himself suddenly transported into an atmosphere of +such beneficent purity, of such radiant serenity, that he lost almost on +the instant the remembrance of the base things by which he had been so +cruelly tortured during the day; the pangs of his heart were appeased at +the mere contact of her great and lofty soul; and therefore his love for +her resembled idolatry. When he lost her, he experienced one of those +calm, deep sorrows which have no end--which become, as it were, part of +life, and have even sometimes their days of melancholy sweetness. A +little while after this great misfortune, M. Hardy became more closely +connected with his workmen. He had always been a just and good master; +but, although the place that his mother left in his heart would ever +remain void, he felt as it were a redoubled overflowing of the +affections, and the more he suffered, the more he craved to see happy +faces around him. The wonderful ameliorations, which he now produced in +the physical and moral condition of all about him, served, not to divert, +but to occupy his grief. Little by little, he withdrew from the world, +and concentrated his life in three affections: a tender and devoted +friendship, which seemed to include all past friendships--a love ardent +and sincere, like a last passion--and a paternal attachment to his +workmen. His days therefore passed in the heart of that little world, so +full of respect and gratitude towards him--a world, which he had, as it +were, created after the image of his mind, that he might find there a +refuge from the painful realities he dreaded, surrounded with good, +intelligent, happy beings, capable of responding to the noble thoughts +which had become more and more necessary to his existence. Thus, after +many sorrows, M. Hardy, arrived at the maturity of age, possessing a +sincere friend, a mistress worthy of his love, and knowing himself +certain of the passionate devotion of his workmen, had attained, at the +period of this history, all the happiness he could hope for since his +mother's death. + +M. de Blessac, his bosom friend, had long been worthy of his touching and +fraternal affection; but we have seen by what diabolical means Father +d'Aigrigny and Rodin had succeeded in making M. de Blessac, until then +upright and sincere, the instrument of their machinations. The two +friends, who had felt on their journey a little of the sharp influence of +the north wind, were warming themselves at a good fire lighted in M. +Hardy's parlor. + +"Oh! my dear Marcel, I begin really to get old," said M. Hardy, with a +smile, addressing M. de Blessac; "I feel more and more the want of being +at home. To depart from my usual habits has become painful to me, and I +execrate whatever obliges me to leave this happy little spot of ground." + +"And when I think," answered M. de Blessac, unable to forbear blushing, +"when I think, my friend, that you undertook this long journey only for +my sake!--" + +"Well, my dear Marcel! have you not just accompanied me in your turn, in +an excursion which, without you, would have been as tiresome as it has +been charming?" + +"What a difference, my friend! I have contracted towards you a debt that +I can never repay." + +"Nonsense, my dear Marcel! Between us, there are no distinctions of meum +and tuum. Besides, in matters of friendship, it is as sweet to give as to +receive." + +"Noble heart! noble heart!" + +"Say, happy heart!--most happy, in the last affections for which it +beats." + +"And who, gracious heaven! could deserve happiness on earth, if it be not +you, my friend?" + +"And to what do I owe that happiness? To the affections which I found +here, ready to sustain me, when deprived of the support of my mother, who +was all my strength, I felt myself (I confess my weakness) almost +incapable of standing up against adversity." + +"You, my friend--with so firm and resolute a character in doing +good--you, that I have seen struggle with so much energy and courage, to +secure the triumph of some great and noble idea?" + +"Yes; but the farther I advance in my career, the more am I disgusted +with all base and shameful actions, and the less strength I feel to +encounter them--" + +"Were it necessary, you would have the courage, my friend." + +"My dear Marcel," replied M. Hardy, with mild and restrained emotion, "I +have often said to you: My courage was my mother. You see, my friend, +when I went to her, with my heart torn by some horrible ingratitude, or +disgusted by some base deceit, she, taking my hands between her own +venerable palms, would say to me in her grave and tender voice: 'My dear +child, it is for the ungrateful and dishonest to suffer; let us pity the +wicked, let us forget evil, and only think of good.'--Then, my friend, +this heart, painfully contracted, expanded beneath the sacred influence +of the maternal words, and every day I gathered strength from her, to +recommence on the morrow a cruel struggle with the sad necessities of my +condition. Happily, it has pleased God, that, after losing that beloved +mother, I have been able to bind up my life with affections, deprived of +which, I confess, I should find myself feeble and disarmed for you cannot +tell, Marcel, the support, the strength that I have found in your +friendship." + +"Do not speak of me, my dear friend," replied M. de Blessac, dissembling +his embarrassment. "Let us talk of another affection, almost as sweet and +tender as that of a mother." + +"I understand you, my good Marcel," replied M. Hardy: "I have concealed +nothing from you since, under such serious circumstances, I had recourse +to the counsels of your friendship. Well! yes; I think that every day I +live augment my adoration for this woman, the only one that I have ever +passionately loved, the only one that I shall now ever love. And then I +must tell you, that my mother, not knowing what Margaret was to me, as +often loud in her praise, and that circumstance renders this love almost +sacred in my eyes." + +"And then there are such strange resemblances between Mme. de Noisy's +character and yours, my friend; above all, in her worship of her mother." + +"It is true, Marcel; that affection has often caused me both admiration +and torment. How often she has said to me, with her habitual frankness: +'I have sacrificed all for you, but I would sacrifice you for my +mother.'" + +"Thank heaven, my friend, you will never see Mme. de Noisy exposed to +that cruel choice. Her mother, you say, has long renounced her intention +of returning to America, where M. de Noisy, perfectly careless of his +wife, appears to have settled himself permanently. Thanks to the discreet +devotion of the excellent woman by whom Margaret was brought up, your +love is concealed in the deepest mystery. What could disturb it now?" + +"Nothing--oh! nothing," cried M. Hardy. "I have almost security for its +duration." + +"What do you mean, my friend?" + +"I do not know if I ought to tell you." + +"Have you ever found me indiscreet, my friend?" + +"You, good Marcel! how can you suppose such a thing?" said M. Hardy, in a +tone of friendly reproach; "no! but I do not like to tell you of my +happiness, till it is complete; and I am not yet quite certain--" + +A servant entered at this moment and said to M. Hardy: "Sir, there is an +old gentleman who wishes to speak to you on very pressing business." + +"So soon!" said M. Hardy, with a slight movement of impatience. "With +your permission, my friend." Then, as M. de Blessac seemed about to +withdraw into the next room, M. Hardy added with a smile: "No, no; do not +stir. Your presence will shorten the interview." + +"But if it be a matter of business, my friend?" + +"I do everything openly, as you know." Then, addressing the servant, M. +Hardy bade him: "Ask the gentleman to walk in." + +"The postilion wishes to know if he is to wait?" + +"Certainly: he will take M. de Blessac back to Paris." + +The servant withdrew, and presently returned, introducing Rodin, with +whom M. de Blessac was not acquainted, his treacherous bargain having +been negotiated through another agent. + +"M. Hardy?" said Rodin, bowing respectfully to the two friends, and +looking from one to the other with an air of inquiry. + +"That is my name, sir; what can I do to serve you?" answered the +manufacturer, kindly; for, at first sight of the humble and ill-dressed +old man, he expected an application for assistance. + +"M. Francois Hardy," repeated Rodin, as if he wished to make sure of the +identity of the person. + +"I have had the honor to tell you that I am he." + +"I have a private communication to make to you, sir," said Rodin. + +"You may speak, sir. This gentleman is my friend," said M. Hardy, +pointing to M. de Blessac. + +"But I wish to speak to you alone, sir," resumed Rodin. + +M. de Blessac was again about to withdraw, when M. Hardy retained him +with a glance, and said to Rodin kindly, for he thought his feelings +might be hurt by asking a favor in presence of a third party: "Permit me +to inquire if it is on your account or on mine, that you wish this +interview to be secret?" + +"On your account entirely, sir," answered Rodin. + +"Then, sir," said M. Hardy, with some surprise, "you may speak out. I +have no secrets from this gentleman." + +After a moment's silence, Rodin resumed, addressing himself to M. Hardy: +"Sir, you deserve, I know, all the good that is said of you; and you +therefore command the sympathy of every honest man." + +"I hope so, sir." + +"Now, as an honest man, I come to render you a service." + +"And this service, sir--" + +"To reveal to you an infamous piece of treachery, of which you have been +the victim." + +"I think, sir, you must be deceived." + +"I have the proofs of what I assert." + +"Proofs?" + +"The written proofs of the treachery that I come to reveal: I have them +here," answered Rodin "In a word, a man whom you believed your friend, +has shamefully deceived you, sir." + +"And the name of this man?" + +"M. Marcel de Blessac," replied Rodin. + +On these words, M. de Blessac started, and became pale as death. He could +hardly murmur: "Sir--" + +But, without looking at his friend, or perceiving his agitation, M. Hardy +seized his hand, and exclaimed hastily: "Silence, my friend!" Then, +whilst his eye flashed with indignation, he turned towards Rodin, who had +not ceased to look him full in the face, and said to him, with an air of +lofty disdain: "What! do you accuse M. de Blessac?" + +"Yes, I accuse him," replied Rodin, briefly. + +"Do you know him?" + +"I have never seen him." + +"Of what do you accuse him? And how dare you say that he has betrayed +me?" + +"Two words, if you please," said Rodin, with an emotion which he appeared +hardly able to restrain. "If one man of honor sees another about to be +slain by an assassin, ought he not give the alarm of murder?" + +"Yes, sir; but what has that to do--" + +"In my eyes, sir, certain treasons are as criminal as murders: I have +come to place myself between the assassin and his victim." + +"The assassin? the victim?" said M. Hardy more and more astonished. + +"You doubtless know M. de Blessac's writing?" said Rodin. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then read this," said Rodin, drawing from his pocket a letter, which he +handed to M. Hardy. + +Casting now for the first time a glance at M. de Blessac, the +manufacturer drew back a step, terrified at the death-like paleness of +this man, who, struck dumb with shame, could not find a word to justify +himself; for he was far from possessing the audacious effrontery +necessary to carry him through his treachery. + +"Marcel!" cried M. Hardy, in alarm, and deeply agitated by this +unexpected blow. "Marcel! how pale you are! you do not answer!" + +"Marcel! this, then, is M. de Blessac?" cried Rodin, feigning the most +painful surprise. "Oh, sir, if I had known--" + +"But don't you hear this man, Marcel?" cried M. Hardy. "He says that you +have betrayed me infamously." He seized the hand of M. de Blessac. That +hand was cold as ice. "Oh, God! Oh God!" said M. Hardy, drawing back in +horror: "he makes no answer!" + +"Since I am in presence of M. de Blessac," resumed Rodin, "I am forced to +ask him, if he can deny having addressed many letters to the Rue du +Milieu des Ursins, at Paris under cover of M. Rodin." + +M. de Blessac remained dumb. M. Hardy, still unwilling to believe what he +saw and heard, convulsively tore open the letter, which Rodin had just +delivered to him, and read the first few lines--interrupting the perusal +with exclamations of grief and amazement. He did not require to finish +the letter, to convince himself of the black treachery of M. de Blessac. +He staggered; for a moment his senses seemed to abandon him. The horrible +discovery made him giddy, and his head swam on his first look down into +that abyss of infamy. The loathsome letter dropped from his trembling +hands. But soon indignation, rage, and scorn succeeded this moment of +despair, and rushing, pale and terrible, upon M. de Blessac: "Wretch!" he +exclaimed, with a threatening gesture. But, pausing as in the act to +strike: "No!" he added, with fearful calmness. "It would be to soil my +hands." + +He turned towards Rodin, who had approached hastily, as if to interpose. +"It is not worth while chastising a wretch," said M. Hardy; "But I will +press your honest hand, sir--for you have had the courage to unmask a +traitor and a coward." + +"Sir!" cried M. de Blessac, overcome with shame; "I am at your +orders--and--" + +He could not finish. The sound of voices was heard behind the door, which +opened violently, and an aged woman entered, in spite of the efforts of +the servant, exclaiming in an agitated voice: "I tell you, I must speak +instantly to your master." + +On hearing this voice, and at sight of the pale, weeping woman, M. Hardy, +forgetting M. de Blessac, Rodin, the infamous treachery, and all, fell +back a step, and exclaimed: "Madame Duparc! you here! What is the +matter?" + +"Oh, sir! a great misfortune--" + +"Margaret!" cried M. Hardy, in a tone of despair. + +"She is gone, sir!" + +"Gone!" repeated M. Hardy, as horror-struck as if a thunderbolt had +fallen at his feet. "Margaret gone!" + +"All is discovered. Her mother took her away--three days ago!" said the +unhappy woman, in a failing voice. + +"Gone! Margaret! It is not true. You deceive me," cried M. Hardy. +Refusing to hear more, wild, despairing, he rushed out of the house, +threw himself into his carriage, to which the post-horses were still +harnessed, waiting for M. de Blessac, and said to the postilion: "To +Paris! as fast as you can go!" + +As the carriage, rapid as lightning, started upon the road to Paris, the +wind brought nearer the distant sound of the war-song of the Wolves, who +were rushing towards the factory. In this impending destruction, see +Rodin's subtle hand, administering his fatal blows to clear his way up to +the chair of St. Peter to which he aspired. His tireless, wily course can +hardly be darker shadowed by aught save that dread coming horror the +Cholera, whose aid he evoked, and whose health the Bacchanal Queen wildly +drank. + +That once gay girl, and her poor famished sister; the fair patrician and +her Oriental lover; Agricola, the workman, and his veteran father; the +smiling Rose-Pompon, and the prematurely withered Jacques Rennepont; +Father d'Aigrigny, the mock priest; and Gabriel, the true disciple; with +the rest that have been named and others yet to be pictured, in the blaze +of the bolts of their life's paths, will be seen in the third and +concluding part of this romance entitled, + +"THE WANDERING JEW: REDEMPTION." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Wandering Jew, Book VII., by Eugene Sue + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WANDERING JEW, BOOK VII. *** + +***** This file should be named 3345.txt or 3345.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/3345/ + +Produced by David Widger and Pat Castevens + +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. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> +and Pat Castevens <patcat@ctnet.net> + + + + + +The Wandering Jew + +by Eugene Sue + + + + +BOOK VII. + +XL. The East Indian in Paris +XLI. Rising +XLII. Doubts +XLIII. The Letter +XLIV. Adrienne and Djalma +XLV. The Consultation +XLVI. Mother Bunch's Diary +XLVII. The Diary Continued +XLVIII. The Discovery +XLIX. The Trysting-Place of the Wolves +L. The Common Dwelling-House +LI. The Secret +LII. Revelations + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE EAST INDIAN IN PARIS. + +Since three days, Mdlle. de Cardoville had left Dr. Baleinier's. The +following scene took place in a little dwelling in the Rue Blanche, to +which Djalma had been conducted in the name of his unknown protector. +Fancy to yourself a pretty, circular apartment, hung with Indian drapery, +with purple figures on a gray ground, just relieved by a few threads of +gold. The ceiling, towards the centre, is concealed by similar hangings, +tied together by a thick, silken cord; the two ends of this cord, unequal +in length, terminated, instead of tassels, in two tiny Indian lamps of +gold filigreed-work, marvellously finished. By one of those ingenious +combinations, so common in barbarous countries, these lamps served also +to burn perfumes. Plates of blue crystal, let in between the openings of +the arabesque, and illumined by the interior light, shone with so limpid +an azure, that the golden lamps seemed starred with transparent +sapphires. Light clouds, of whitish vapor rose incessantly from these +lamps, and spread all around their balmy odor. + +Daylight was only admitted to this room (it was about two o'clock in the +afternoon) through a little greenhouse, on the other side of a door of +plate-glass, made to slide into the thickness of the wall, by means of a +groove. A Chinese shade was arranged so as to hide or replace this glass +at pleasure. Some dwarf palm tress, plantains, and other Indian +productions, with thick leaves of a metallic green, arranged in clusters +in this conservatory, formed, as it were, the background to two large +variegated bushes of exotic flowers, which were separated by a narrow +path, paved with yellow and blue Japanese tiles, running to the foot of +the glass. The daylight, already much dimmed by the leaves through which +it passed, took a hue of singular mildness as it mingled with the azure +lustre of the perfumed lamps, and the crimson brightness of the fire in +the tall chimney of oriental porphyry. In the obscurity of this +apartment, impregnated with sweet odors and the aromatic vapor of Persian +tobacco, a man with brown, hanging locks, dressed in a long robe of dark +green, fastened round the waist by a parti-colored sash, was kneeling +upon a magnificent Turkey carpet, filling the golden bowl of a hookah; +the long, flexible tube of this pipe, after rolling its folds upon the +carpet, like a scarlet serpent with silver scales, rested between the +slender fingers of Djalma, who was reclining negligently on a divan. The +young prince was bareheaded; his jet-black hair, parted on the middle of +his forehead, streamed waving about his face and neck of antique beauty-- +their warm transparent colors resembling amber or topaz. Leaning his +elbow on a cushion, he supported his chin with the palm of his right +hand. The flowing sleeve of his robe, falling back from his arm, which +was round as that of a woman, revealed mysterious signs formerly tattooed +there in India by a Thug's needle. The son of Radja-sing held in his +left hand the amber mouthpiece of his pipe. His robe of magnificent +cashmere, with a border of a thousand hues, reaching to his knee, was +fastened about his slim and well-formed figure by the large folds of an +orange-colored shawl. This robe was half withdrawn from one of the +elegant legs of this Asiatic Antinous, clad in a kind of very close +fitting gaiter of crimson velvet, embroidered with silver, and +terminating in a small white morocco slipper, with a scarlet heel. At +once mild and manly, the countenance of Djalma was expressive of that +melancholy and contemplative calmness habitual to the Indian and the +Arab, who possess the happy privilege of uniting, by a rare combination, +the meditative indolence of the dreamer with the fiery energy of the man +of action--now delicate, nervous, impressionable as women--now +determined, ferocious, and sanguinary as bandits. + +And this semi-feminine comparison, applicable to the moral nature of the +Arab and the Indian, so long as they are not carried away by the ardor of +battle and the excitement of carnage, is almost equally applicable to +their physical constitution; for if, like women of good blood, they have +small extremities, slender limbs, fine and supple forms, this delicate +and often charming exterior always covers muscles of steel, full of an +elasticity, and vigor truly masculine. Djalma's oblong eyes, like black +diamonds set in bluish mother-of-pearl, wandered mechanically from the +exotic flowers to the ceiling; from time to time he raised the amber +mouthpiece of the hookah to his lips; then, after a slow aspiration, half +opening his rosy lips, strongly contrasted with the shining enamel of his +teeth, he sent forth a little spiral line of smoke, freshly scented by +the rose-water through which it had passed. + +"Shall I put more tobacco in the hookah?" said the kneeling figure, +turning towards Djalma, and revealing the marked and sinister features of +Faringhea the Strangler. + +The young prince remained dumb, either that, from an oriental contempt +for certain races, he disdained to answer the half-caste, or that, +absorbed in his reverie, he did not even hear him. The Strangler became +again silent; crouching cross-legged upon the carpet, with his elbows +resting on his knees, and his chin upon his hands, he kept his eyes fixed +on Djalma, and seemed to await the reply or the orders of him whose sire +had been surnamed the Father of the Generous. How had Faringhea, the +sanguinary worshipper of Bowanee, the Divinity of Murder, been brought to +seek or to accept such humble functions? How came this man, possessed of +no vulgar talents, whose passionate eloquence and ferocious energy had +recruited many assassins for the service of the Good Work, to resign +himself to so base a condition? Why, too, had this man, who, profiting +by the young prince's blindness with regard to himself, might have so +easily sacrificed him as an offering to Bowanee--why had he spared the +life of Radja-sings son? Why, in fine, did he expose himself to such +frequent encounters with Rodin, whom he had only known under the most +unfavorable auspices? The sequel of this story will answer all these +questions. We can only say at present, that, after a long interview with +Rodin, two nights before, the Thug had quitted him with downcast eyes and +cautious bearing. + +After having remained silent for some time, Djalma, following with his +eye the cloud of whitish smoke that he had just sent forth into space, +addressed Faringhea, without looking at him, and said to him in the +language, as hyperbolical as concise, of Orientals: "Time passes. The +old man with the good heart does not come. But he will come. His word +is his word." + +"His word is his word, my lord," repeated Faringhea, in an affirmative +tone. "When he came to fetch you, three days ago, from the house whither +those wretches, m furtherance of their wicked designs, had conveyed you +in a deep sleep--after throwing me, your watchful and devoted servant, +into a similar state--he said to you: `The unknown friend, who sent for +you to Cardoville Castle, bids me come to you, prince. Have confidence, +and follow me. A worthy abode is prepared for you.'--And again, he said +to you, my lord: `Consent not to leave the house, until my return. Your +interest requires it. In three days you will see me again, and then be +restored to perfect freedom.' You consented to those terms, my lord, and +for three days you have not left the house." + +"And I wait for the old man with impatience," said Djalma, "for this +solitude is heavy with me. There must be so many things to admire in +Paris. Above all." + +Djalma did not finish the sentence, but relapsed into a reverie. After +some moments' silence, the son of Radja-sing said suddenly to Faringhea, +in the tone of an impatient yet indolent sultan: "Speak to me!" + +"Of what shall I speak, my lord?" + +"Of what you will," said Djalma, with careless contempt, as he fixed on +the ceiling his eyes, half-veiled with languor. "One thought pursues me +--I wish to be diverted from it. Speak to me." + +Faringhea threw a piercing glance on the countenance of the young Indian, +and saw that his cheeks were colored with a slight blush. "My lord," +said the half-caste, "I can guess your thought." + +Djalma shook his head, without looking at the Strangler. The latter +resumed: "You are thinking of the women of Paris, my lord." + +Be silent, slave!" said Djalma, turning abruptly on the sofa, as if some +painful wound had been touched to the quick. Faringhea obeyed. + +After the lapse of some moments. Djalma broke forth again with +impatience, throwing aside the tube of the hookah, and veiling both eyes +with his hands: "Your words are better than silence. Cursed be my +thoughts, and the spirit which calls up these phantoms!" + +"Why should you fly these thoughts, my lord? You are nineteen years of +age, and hitherto all your youth has been spent in war and captivity. Up +to this time, you have remained as chaste as Gabriel, that young +Christian priest, who accompanied us on our voyage." + +Though Faringhea did not at all depart from his respectful deference for +the prince, the latter felt that there was something of irony in the tone +of the half-caste, as he pronounced the word "chaste." + +Djalma said to him with a mixture of pride and severity: "I do not wish +to pass for a barbarian, as they call us, with these civilized people; +therefore I glory in my chastity." + +"I do not understand, my lord." + +"I may perhaps love some woman, pure as was my mother when she married my +father; and to ask for purity from a woman, a man must be chaste as she." + +At this, Faringhea could not refrain from a sardonic smile. + +"Why do you laugh, slave?" said the young prince, imperiously. + +"Among civilized people, as you call them, my lord, the man who married +in the flower of his innocence would be mortally wounded with ridicule." + +"It is false, slave! He would only be ridiculous if he married one that +was not pure as himself." + +"Then, my lord, he would not only be wounded--he would be killed +outright, for he would be doubly and unmercifully laughed at." + +"It is false! it is false. Where did you learn all this?" + +"I have seen Parisian women at the Isle of France, and at Pondicherry, my +lord. Moreover, I learned a good deal during our voyage; I talked with a +young officer, while you conversed with the young priest." + +"So, like the sultans of our harems, civilized men require of women the +innocence they have themselves lost." + +"They require it the more, the less they have of it, my lord." + +"To require without any return, is to act as a master to his slave; by +what right?" + +"By the right of the strongest--as it is among us, my lord." + +"And what do the women do?" + +"They prevent the men from being too ridiculous, when they marry, in the +eyes of the world." + +"But they kill a woman that is false?" said Djalma, raising himself +abruptly, and fixing upon Faringhea a savage look, that sparkled with +lurid fire. + +"They kill her, my lord, as with us--when they find her out." + +"Despots like ourselves! Why then do these civilized men not shut up +their women, to force them to a fidelity which they do not practise?" + +"Because their civilization is barbarous, and their barbarism civilized, +my lord." + +"All this is sad enough, if true," observed Djalma, with a pensive air, +adding, with a species of enthusiasm, employing, as usual, the mystic and +figurative language familiar to the people of his country; "yes, your +talk afflicts me, slave--for two drops of dew blending in the cup of a +flower are as hearts that mingle in a pure and virgin love; and two rays +of light united in one inextinguishable flame, are as the burning and +eternal joys of lovers joined in wedlock." + +Djalma spoke of the pure enjoyments of the soul with inexpressible grace, +yet it was when he painted less ideal happiness, that his eyes shone like +stars; he shuddered slightly, his nostrils swelled, the pale gold of his +complexion became vermilion, and the young prince sank into a deep +reverie. + +Faringhea, having remarked this emotion, thus spoke: "If, like the proud +and brilliant king-bird of our woods, you prefer numerous and varied +pleasures to solitary and monotonous amours--handsome, young, rich as you +are, my lord, were you to seek out the seductive Parisians--voluptuous +phantoms of your nights--charming tormentors of your dreams--were you to +cast upon them looks bold as a challenge, supplicating as prayers, ardent +as desires--do you not think that many a half-veiled eye would borrow +fire from your glance? Then it would no longer be the monotonous +delights of a single love, the heavy chain of our life--no, it would be +the thousand pleasures of the harem--a harem peopled with free and proud +beauties, whom happy love would make your slaves. So long constrained, +there is no such thing as excess to you. Believe me, it would then be +you, the ardent, the magnificent son of our country, that would become +the love and pride of these women--the most seductive in the world, who +would soon have for you no looks but those of languor and passion." + +Djalma had listened to Faringhea with silent eagerness. The expression +of his features had completely changed; it was no longer the melancholy +and dreaming youth, invoking the sacred remembrance of his mother, and +finding only in the dew of heaven, in the calyx of flowers, images +sufficiently pure to paint the chastity of the love he dreamed of; it was +no longer even the young man, blushing with a modest ardor at the thought +of the permitted joys of a legitimate union. No! the incitements of +Faringhea had kindled a subterraneous fire; the inflamed countenance of +Djalma, his eyes now sparkling and now veiled, his manly and sonorous +respiration, announced the heat of his blood, the boiling up of the +passions, only the more energetic, that they had been hitherto +restrained. + +So, springing suddenly from the divan, supple, vigorous, and light as a +young tiger, Djalma clutched Faringhea by the throat exclaiming: "Thy +words are burning poison!" + +"My lord," said Faringhea, without opposing the least resistance, "your +slave is your slave." This submission disarmed the prince. + +"My life belongs to you," repeated the half-caste. + +"I belong to you, slave!" cried Djalma, repulsing him. "Just now, I hung +upon your lips, devouring your dangerous lies." + +"Lies, my lord? Only appear before these women, and their looks will +confirm my words." + +"These women love me!--me, who have only lived in war and in the woods?" + +"The thought that you, so young, have already waged bloody war on men and +tigers, will make them adore, my lord." + +"You lie!" + +"I tell you, my lord, on seeing your hand, as delicate as theirs, but +which has been so often bathed in hostile blood, they will wish to caress +it; and they will kiss it again, when they think that, in our forests, +with loaded rifle, and a poniard between your teeth, you smiled at the +roaring of a lion or panther for whom you lay in wait." + +"But I am a savage--a barbarian." + +"And for that very reason you will have them at your feet. They will +feel themselves both terrified and charmed by all the violence and fury, +the rage of jealousy, the passion and the love, to which a man of your +blood, your youth, your ardor must be subject. To-day mild and tender, +to-morrow fierce and suspicious, another time ardent and passionate, such +you will be--and such you ought to be, if you wish to win them. Yes; let +a kiss of rage be heard between two kisses: let a dagger glitter in the +midst of caresses, and they will fall before you, palpitating with +pleasure, love, and fear--and you will be to them, not a man, but a god." + +"Dost think so?" cried Djalma, carried away in spite of himself by the +Thug's wild eloquence. + +"You know, you feel, that I speak the truth," cried the latter, extending +his arm towards the young Indian. + +"Why, yes!" exclaimed Djalma, his eyes sparkling, his nostrils swelling, +as he moved about the apartment with savage bounds. "I know not if I +possess my reason, or if I am intoxicated, but it seems to me that you +speak truth. Yes, I feel that they will love me with madness and fury, +because my love will be mad and furious they will tremble with pleasure +and fear, because the very thought of it makes me tremble with delight +and terror. Slave, it is true; there is something exciting and fearful +in such a love!" As he spoke forth these words, Djalma was superb in his +impetuous sensuality. It is a rare thing to see a young man arrive in +his native purity, at the age in which are developed, in all their +powerful energy, those admirable instincts of love, which God has +implanted in the heart of his creatures, and which, repressed, disguised, +or perverted, may unseat the reason, or generate mad excesses and +frightful crimes--but which, directed towards a great and noble passion, +may and must, by their very violence, elevate man, through devotion and +tenderness, to the limits of the ideal. + +"Oh! this woman--this woman, before whom I am to tremble--and who, in +turn, must tremble before me--where is she?" cried Djalma, with redoubled +excitement. "Shall I ever find her?" + +"One is a good deal, my lord," replied Faringhea, with his sardonic +coolness; "he who looks for one woman, will rarely succeed in this +country; he who seeks women, is only at a loss to choose." + +As the half-caste made this impertinent answer to Djalma, a very elegant +blue-and-white carriage stopped before the garden-gate of the house, +which opened upon a deserted street. It was drawn by a pair of beautiful +blood-horses, of a cream color, with black manes and tails. The +scutcheons on the harness were of silver, as were also the buttons of the +servants' livery, which was blue with white collars. On the blue +hammercloth, also laced with white, as well as on the panels of the +doors, were lozenge-shaped coats of arms, without crest or coronet, as +usually borne by unmarried daughters of noble families. Two women were +in this carriage--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +RISING. + +To explain the arrival of Mdlle. de Cardoville at the garden-door of the +house occupied by Djalma, we must cast a retrospective glance at previous +events. On leaving Doctor Baleinier's, Mdlle. de Cardoville had gone to +take up her residence in the Rue d'Anjou. During the last few months of +her stay with her aunt, Adrienne had secretly caused this handsome +dwelling to be repaired and furnished, and its luxury and elegance were +now increased by all the wonders of the lodge of Saint-Dizier House. The +world found it very strange, that a lady of the age and condition of +Mdlle. de Cardoville should take the resolution of living completely +alone and free, and, in fact, of keeping house exactly like a bachelor, a +young widow, or an emancipated minor. The world pretended not to know +that Mdlle. de Cardoville possessed what is often wanting in men, whether +of age or twice of age--a firm character, a lofty mind, a generous heart, +strong and vigorous good sense. + +Judging that she would require faithful assistance in the internal +management of her house, Adrienne had written to the bailiff of +Cardoville, and his wife, old family servants, to come immediately to +Paris: M. Dupont thus filled the office of steward, and Mme. Dupont that +of housekeeper. An old friend of Adrienne's father, the Count de +Montbron, an accomplished old man, once very much in fashion, and still a +connoisseur in all sorts of elegances, had advised Adrienne to act like a +princess, and take an equerry; recommended for this office a man of good +rearing and ripe age, who, himself an amateur in horses, had been ruined +in England, at Newmarket, the Derby, and Tattersall's, and reduced, as +sometimes happened to gentlemen in that country, to drive the stage- +coaches, thus finding an honest method of earning his bread, and at the +same time gratifying his taste for horses. Such was M. de Bonneville, M. +de Montbron's choice. Both from age and habits, this equerry could +accompany Mdlle. de Cardoville on horseback, and better than any one +else, superintend the stable. He accepted, therefore, the employment +with gratitude, and, thanks to his skill and attention, the equipages of +Mdlle. de Cardoville were not eclipsed in style by anything of the kind +in Paris. Mdlle. de Cardoville had taken back her women, Hebe, +Georgette, and Florine. The latter was at first to have re-entered the +service of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, to continue her part of spy for +the superior of St. Mary's Convent; but, in consequence of the new +direction given by Rodin to the Rennepont affair, it was decided that +Florine, if possible, should return to the service of Mdlle. de +Cardoville. This confidential place, enabling this unfortunate creature +to render important and mysterious services to the people who held her +fate in their hands, forced her to infamous treachery. Unfortunately, +all things favored this machination. We know that Florine, in her +interview with Mother Bunch, a few days after Mdlle. de Cardoville was +imprisoned at Dr. Baleinier's, had yielded to a twinge of remorse, and +given to the sempstress advice likely to be of use to Adrienne's +interests--sending word to Agricola not to deliver to Madame de Saint- +Dizier the papers found in the hiding-place of the pavilion, but only to +entrust them to Mdlle. de Cardoville herself. The latter, afterwards +informed of these details by Mother Bunch, felt a double degree of +confidence and interest in Florine, took her back into her service with +gratitude, and almost immediately charged her with a confidential +mission--that of superintending the arrangements of the house hired for +Djalma's habitation. As for Mother Bunch (yielding to the solicitations +of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and finding she was no longer of use to +Dagobert's wife, of whom we shall speak hereafter), she had consented to +take up her abode in the hotel on the Rue d'Anjou, along with Adrienne, +who with that rare sagacity of the heart peculiar to her, entrusted the +young sempstress, who served her also as a secretary, with the department +of alms-giving. + +Mdlle. de Cardoville had at first thought of entertaining her merely as a +friend, wishing to pay homage in her person to probity with labor, +resignation in sorrow, and intelligence in poverty; but knowing the +workgirl's natural dignity, she feared, with reason that, notwithstanding +the delicate circumspection with which the hospitality would be offered, +Mother Bunch might perceive in it alms in disguise. Adrienne preferred, +therefore, whilst she treated her as a friend, to give her a confidential +employment. In this manner the great delicacy of the needlewoman would +be spared, since she could earn her livelihood by performing duties which +would at the same time satisfy her praiseworthy instincts of charity. In +fact, she could fulfil, better than any one, the sacred mission confided +to her by Adrienne. Her cruel experience in misfortune, the goodness of +her angelic soul, the elevation of her mind, her rare activity, her +penetration with regard to the painful secrets of poverty, her perfect +knowledge of the industrial classes, were sufficient security for the +tact and intelligence with which the excellent creature would second the +generous intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +Let us now speak of the divers events which, on that day, preceded the +coming of Mdlle. de Cardoville to the garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. About ten o'clock in the morning, the blinds of Adrienne's +bedchamber, closely shut, admitted no ray of daylight to this apartment, +which was only lighted by a spherical lamp of oriental alabaster, +suspended from the ceiling by three long silver chains. This apartment, +terminating in a dome, was in the form of a tent with eight sides. From +the ceiling to the floor, it was hung with white silk, covered with long +draperies of muslin, fastened in large puffs to the wall, by bands caught +in at regular distances by plates of ivory. Two doors, also of ivory, +admirably encrusted with mother-of-pearl, led, one to the bath-room, the +other to the toilet-chamber, a sort of little temple dedicated to the +worship of beauty, and furnished as it had been at the pavilion of Saint- +Dizier House. Two other compartments of the wall were occupied by +windows, completely veiled with drapery. Opposite the bed, enclosing +splendid fire-dogs of chased silver, was a chimney-piece of white marble, +like crystallized snow, on which were sculptured two magnificent +caryatides, and a frieze representing birds and flowers. Above this +frieze, carved in openwork with extreme delicacy, was a marble basket, +filled with red camellias. Their leaves of shining green their flowers +of a delicate rosy hue, were the only colors that disturbed the +harmonious whiteness of this virgin retreat. Finally, half surrounded by +waves of white muslin, which poured down from the dome like a mass of +light clouds, the bed was visible--very low, and resting on feet of +carved ivory, which stood upon the ermine carpet that covered the floor. +With the exception of a plinth, also in ivory, admirably inlaid with +mother-of-pearl, the bed was entirely covered with white satin, wadded +and quilted like an immense scent-bag. The cambric sheets, trimmed with +lace, being a little disturbed on one side, discovered the corner of a +white taffety mattress, and a light counterpane of watered stuff--for an +equal temperature always reigned in this apartment, warm as a fine spring +day. + +From a singular scruple, arising from the same sentiment which had caused +Adrienne to have inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work the name +of the maker instead of that of the seller, she had wished all these +articles, so costly and sumptuous, to be manufactured by workmen chosen +amongst the most intelligent, honest, and industrious of their class, +whom she had supplied with the necessary materials. In this manner she +had been able to add to the price of the work the profit usually gained +by the middle man, who speculates in such labor; this notable +augmentation of wages had spread happiness and comfort through a hundred +necessitous families, who, blessing the munificence of Adrienne, gave +her, as she said, the right to enjoy her luxury as a good action. +Nothing could be fresher or more charming than the interior of this +bedchamber. Mdlle. de Cardoville had just awoke; she reposed in the +middle of this flood of muslin, lace, cambric, and white silk, in a +position full of sweet grace. Never during the night did she cover that +beautiful golden hair (a certain recipe, said the Greeks, for preserving +it for a long while in magnificence). Every evening, her women arranged +her long silky curls in flat tresses, forming two broad bands, which, +descending sufficiently low almost entirely to conceal the small ear, the +rosy lobe of which was alone visible, were joined to the large plait +behind the head. + +This head-dress, borrowed from Greek antiquity, set off to admiration the +pure, fine features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and made her look so much +younger, that, instead of eighteen, one would hardly have given her +fifteen years of age. Gathered thus closely about the temples, the hair +lost its transparent and brilliant hues, and would have appeared almost +brown, but for the golden tints which played here and there, amid the +undulations of the tresses. Lulled in that morning torpor, the warm +languor of which is so favorable to soft reveries, Adrienne leaned with +her elbow on the pillow, and her head a little on one side, which +displayed to advantage the ideal contour of her bared neck and shoulders; +her smiling lips, moist and rosy, were, like her cheeks, cold as if they +had just been bathed in ice-water; her snow-white lids half veiled the +large, dark, soft eyes, which now gazed languidly upon vacancy, and now +fixed themselves with pleasure upon the rosy flowers and green leaves in +the basket of camellias. Who can paint the matchless serenity of +Adrienne's awaking--when the fair and chaste soul roused itself in the +fair and chaste body? It was the awakening of a heart as pure as the +fresh and balmy breath of youth, that made her bosom rise and fall in its +white, immaculate purity. What creed, what dogma, what formula, what +religious symbol, oh! paternal and divine Creator! can ever give a more +complete idea of Thy harmonious and ineffable power, than the image of a +young maiden awaking in the bloom of her beauty, and in all the grace of +that modesty with which Thou hast endowed her, seeking, in her dreamy +innocence, for the secret of that celestial instinct of love, which Thou +hast placed in the bosom of all Thy creatures--oh! Thou whose love is +eternal, and goodness infinite! + +The confused thoughts which, since her sleep, had appeared gently to +agitate Adrienne, absorbed her more and more; her head resting on her +bosom, her beautiful arm upon the couch, her features without becoming +precisely sad, assumed an expression of touching melancholy. Her dearest +desire was accomplished; she was about to live independent and alone. +But this affectionate, delicate, expansive, and marvellously complete +nature, felt that God had not given her such rare treasures, to bury them +in a cold and selfish solitude. She felt how much that was great and +beautiful might be inspired by love, both in herself, and in him that +should be worthy of her. Confiding in her courage, and the nobleness of +her character, proud of the example that she wished to give to other +women, knowing that all eyes would be fixed enviously upon her, she felt, +as it were, only too sure of herself; far from fearing that she should +make a bad choice, she rather feared, that she should not find any from +whom to choose, so pure and perfect was her taste. And, even had she met +with her own ideal, she had views so singular and so just, so +extraordinary and yet so sensible, with regard to the independence and +dignity of woman, that, inexorably determined to make no concession upon +this head, she asked herself if the man of her choice would ever accept +the hitherto unheard-of conditions that she meant to impose. In +recalling to her remembrance the possible suitors that she had met in the +world, she remembered also the dark, but true picture, which Rodin had +drawn with so much caustic bitterness. She remembered, too, not without +a certain pride, the encouragement this man had given her, not by +flattery, but by advising her to follow out and accomplish a great, +generous, and beautiful design. The current or the caprice of fancy soon +brought Adrienne to think of Djalma. Whilst she congratulated herself on +having paid to her royal kinsman the duties of a kingly hospitality, the +young lady was far from regarding the prince as the hero of her future. + +And first she said to herself, not unreasonably, that this half-savage +boy, with passions, if not untamable, yet untamed, transported on a +sudden into the midst of a refined civilization, would be inevitably +destined to fiery trials and violent transformations. Now Mdlle. de +Cardoville, having nothing masculine or despotic in her character, had no +wish to civilize the young savage. Therefore, notwithstanding the +interest, or rather because of the interest, which she felt for the young +Indian, she was firmly resolved, not to make herself known to him, till +after the lapse of two or three months; and she determined also, that, +even if Djalma should learn by chance that she was his relation, she +would not receive his visit. She desired, if not to try him, at least to +leave him free in all his acts, so that he might expend the first fire of +his passions, good or bad. But not wishing to abandon him quite without +defence to the perils of Parisian life, she requested the Count de +Montbron, in confidence, to introduce Prince Djalma to the best company +in Paris, and to enlighten him by the counsels of his long experience. +M. de Montbron had received the request of Mdlle. de Cardoville with the +greatest pleasure, taking delight, he said, in starting his royal tiger +in drawing-rooms, and bringing him into contact with the flower of the +fine ladies and gentlemen of Paris, offering at the same time to wager +any amount in favor of his half-savage pupil. + +"As for myself, my dear Count," said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with her +usual frankness, "my resolution is not to be shaken. You have told me +the effect that will be produced in the fashionable world, by the first +appearance of Prince Djalma, an Indian nineteen years of age, of +surprising beauty, proud and wild as a young lion arriving from his +forest; it is new, it is extraordinary, you added; and, therefore, all +the coquetries of civilized life will pursue him with an eagerness which +makes me tremble for him. Now, seriously, my dear count it will not suit +me to appear as the rival of so many fine ladies, who are about to expose +themselves intrepidly to the claws of the young tiger. I take great +interest in him, because he is my cousin, because he is handsome, because +he is brave, and above all because he does not wear that horrible +European dress. No doubt these are rare qualities--but not sufficient to +make me change my mind. Besides, the good old philosopher, my new +friend, has given me advice about this Indian, which you, my dear Count, +who are not a philosopher, will yet approve. It is, for some time, to +receive visits at home, but not to visit other people--which will spare +me the awkwardness of meeting my royal cousin, and allow me to make a +careful choice, even amongst my usual society. As my house will be an +excellent one, my position most unusual, and as I shall be suspected of +all sorts of naughty secrets, I shall be in no want of inquisitive +visitors, who will amuse me a good deal, I assure you." + +And as M. de Montbron asked, if the exile of the poor young Indian tiger +was to last long, Adrienne answered: "As I shall see most of the +persons, to whom you will introduce him, I shall be pleased to hear +different opinions about him. If certain men speak well of him, and +certain women ill, I shall have good hope of him. In a word, the opinion +that I come to, in sifting the true from the false (you may leave that to +my sagacity), will shorten or prolong the exile of my royal cousin." + +Such were the formal intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville with regard to +Djalma, even on the day she went with Florine to the house he occupied. +In a word, she had positively resolved not to be known to him for some +months to come. + +After long reflecting that morning, on the chances that might yet offer +themselves to satisfy the wants of her heart, Adrienne fell into a new, +deep reverie. This charming creature, so full of life and youth, heaved +a low sigh, raised her arms above her head, turned her profile towards +the pillow, and remained for some moments as if powerless and vanquished. +Motionless beneath the white tissues that wrapped her round, she looked +like a fair, marble statue, visible beneath a light layer of snow. +Suddenly, Adrienne raised herself up, drew her hand across her brow, and +rang for her women. At the first silver tone of the bell, the two ivory +doors opened. Georgette appeared on the threshold of the dressing-room, +from which Frisky, a little black and-tan dog, with his golden collar, +escaped with a joyful barking. Hebe appeared at the same time on the +threshold of the bath-room. At the further end of this apartment, +lighted from above, might be seen upon a green mat of Spanish leather, +with golden ornaments, a crystal bath in the form of a long shell. The +three only divisions in this masterpiece of glass work, were concealed by +the elegant device of several large reeds in silver, which rose from the +wide base of the bath, also of wrought silver, representing children and +dolphins playing, among branches of natural coral, and azure shells. +Nothing could be more pleasing than the effect of these purple reeds and +ultramarine shells, upon a dull ground of silver; the balsamic vapor, +which rose from the warm, limpid, and perfumed water, that filled the +crystal shell, spread through the bath-room, and floated like a light +cloud into the sleeping-chamber. + +Seeing Hebe in her fresh and pretty costume, bringing her a long bathing- +gown, hanging upon a bare and dimpled arm, Adrienne said to her: "Where +is Florine, my child?" + +"Madame, she went downstairs two hours ago; she was wanted for something +very pressing." + +"Who wanted her?" + +"The young person who serves Madame as secretary. She went out this +morning very early; and, as soon as she returned, she sent for Florine, +who has not come back since." + +"This absence no doubt relates to some important affair of my angelic +minister of succor," said Adrienne, smiling, and thinking of the +hunchback. Then she made a sign to Hebe to approach her bed. + +About two hours after rising, Adrienne, having had herself dressed, as +usual, with rare elegance, dismissed her women, and sent for Mother +Bunch, whom she treated with marked deference, always receiving her +alone. The young sempstress entered hastily, with a pale, agitated +countenance, and said, in a trembling voice: "Oh, madame! my +presentiments were justified. You are betrayed." + +"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with +surprise. "Who betrays me?" + +"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +DOUBTS. + +On hearing the accusation brought against Rodin, Mdlle. de Cardoville +looked at the denunciator with new astonishment. Before continuing this +scene, we may say that Mother Bunch was no longer clad in her poor, old +clothes, but was dressed in black, with as much simplicity as taste. The +sad color seemed to indicate her renunciation of all human vanity, the +eternal mourning of her heart, and the austere duties imposed upon her by +her devotion to misfortune. With her black gown, she wore a large +falling collar, white and neat as her little gauze cap, with its gray +ribbons, which, revealing her bands of fine brown hair, set off to +advantage her pale and melancholy countenance, with its soft blue eyes. +Her long, delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no +longer, as formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent +whiteness. + +Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely +surprised, Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?" + +"M. Rodin betrays you, madame." + +"M. Rodin? Impossible!" + +"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me." + +"Your presentiments?" + +"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My +heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame." + +"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor +friend?" + +"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear +was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin +showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less." + +"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost +irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this +instance . However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no +matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?" + +"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M. +Rodin had given me, in the name of a charitable person. I did not find +Cephyse at the friend's who had taken care of her; I therefore begged the +portress, to inform my sister that I would call again this morning. That +is what I did; but you must excuse me, madame, some necessary details." + +"Speak, speak, my dear." + +"The young girl who had received my sister," said Mother Bunch, with +embarrassment, casting down her eyes and blushing, "does not lead a very +regular life. A person, with whom she has gone on several parties of +pleasure, one M. Dumoulin, had informed her of the real name of M. Rodin, +who has a kind of lodging in that house, and there goes by the name of +Charlemagne." + +"That is just what he told us at Dr. Baleinier's; and, the day before +yesterday, when I again alluded to the circumstance, he explained to me +the necessity in which he was, for certain reasons, to have a humble +retreat in that remote quarter--and I could not but approve of his +motives." + +"Well, then! yesterday, M. Rodin received a visit from the Abbe +d'Aigrigny." + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame; he remained for two hours shut up with M. Rodin." + +"My child, you must have been deceived." + +"I was told, madame, that the Abbe d'Aigrigny had called in the morning +to see M. Rodin; not finding him at home, he had left with the portress +his name written on a slip of paper, with the words, `I shall return in +two hours.' The girl of whom I spoke, madame, had seen this slip of +paper. As all that concerns M. Rodin appears mysterious enough, she had +the curiosity to wait for M. d'Aigrigny in the porter's lodge, and, about +two hours afterwards, he indeed returned, and saw M. Rodin." + +"No, no," said Adrienne, shuddering; "it is impossible. There must be +some mistake." + +"I think not, madame; for, knowing how serious such a discovery would be, +I begged the young girl to describe to me the appearance of M. +d'Aigrigny." + +"Well?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, she told me, is about forty years of age. He is +tall and upright, dresses plainly, but with care; has gray eyes, very +large and piercing, thick eyebrows, chestnut-colored hair, a face closely +shaved, and a very decided aspect." + +"It is true," said Adrienne, hardly able to believe what she heard. "The +description is exact." + +"Wishing to have all possible details," resumed Mother Bunch, "I asked +the portress if M. Rodin and the Abbe d'Aigrigny appeared to be at +variance when they quitted the house? She replied no, but that the Abbe +said to M. Rodin, as they parted at the door: `I will write to you +tomorrow, as agreed.'" + +"Is it a dream? Good heaven!" said Adrienne, drawing her hands across +her forehead in a sort of stupor. "I cannot doubt your word, my poor +friend; and yet it is M. Rodin who himself sent you to that house, to +give assistance to your sister: would he have wilfully laid open to you +his secret interviews with the Abbe d'Aigrigny? It would have been bad +policy in a traitor." + +"That is true, and the same reflection occurred to me. And yet the +meeting of these two men appeared so dangerous to you, madame, that I +returned home full of terror." + +Characters of extreme honesty are very hard to convince of the treachery +of others: the more infamous the deception, the more they are inclined to +doubt it. Adrienne was one of these characters, rectitude being a prime +quality of her mind. Though deeply impressed by the communication, she +remarked: "Come, my dear, do not let us frighten ourselves too soon, or +be over-hasty in believing evil. Let us try to enlighten ourselves by +reasoning, and first of all remember facts. M. Rodin opened for me the +doors of Dr. Baleinier's asylum; in my presence, he brought, his charge +against the Abbe d'Aigrigny; he forced the superior of the convent to +restore Marshal Simon's daughters, he succeeded in discovering the +retreat of Prince Djalma--he faithfully executed my intentions with +regard to my young cousin; only yesterday, he gave me the most useful +advice. All this is true--is it not?" + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Now suppose that M. Rodin, putting things in their worst light, had some +after-thought--that he hopes to be liberally rewarded, for instance; +hitherto, at least, he has shown complete disinterestedness." + +"That also is true, madame," said poor Mother Bunch, obliged, like +Adrienne, to admit the evidence of fixed facts. + +"Now let us look to the possibility of treachery. Unite with the Abbe +d'Aigrigny to betray me! Betray me?--how? and for what purpose? What +have I to fear? Is it not the Abbe d'Aigrigny, on the contrary, is it +not Madame de Saint-Dizier, who have to render an account for the +injuries they have done me?" + +"But, then, madame, how do you explain the meeting of these two men, who +have so many motives for mutual aversion? May there not be some dark +project still behind? Besides, madame, I am not the only one to think +so." + +"How is that?" + +"This morning, on my return, I was so much agitated, that Mdlle. Florine +asked me the cause of my trouble. I know, madame, how much she is +devoted to you." + +"Nobody could be more so; only recently, you yourself informed me of the +signal service she rendered, during my confinement at Dr. Baleinier's." + +"Well, madame, this morning, on my return, thinking it necessary to have +you informed as soon as possible, I told all to Mdlle. Florine. Like me- +-even more, perhaps--she was terrified at the meeting of Rodin and M. +d'Aigrigny. + +After a moment's reflection, she said to me: `It is, I think, useless to +disturb my mistress at present; it can be of no importance whether she is +informed of this treachery two or three hours sooner or later; during +that time I may be able to discover something more. I have an idea, +which I think a good one. Make my excuses to my mistress; I shall soon +be back.' Then Florine sent for a hackney-coach, and went out." + +"Florine is an excellent girl," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, with a smile, +for further reflection had quite reassured her: "but, on this occasion, I +think that her zeal and good heart have deceived her, as they have you, +my poor friend. Do you know, that we are two madcaps, you and I, not to +have thought of one thing, which would have put us quite at our ease?" + +"How so, madame?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny fears M. Rodin; he may have sought him out, to +entreat his forbearance. Do you not find this explanation both +satisfactory and reasonable?" + +"Perhaps so, madame," said Mother Bunch, after a moment's reflection; +"yes, it is probable." But after another silence, and as if yielding to +a conviction superior to every possible argument, she exclaimed: "And +yet, no; believe me, madame, you are deceived. I feel it. All +appearances may be against what I affirm; yet, believe me, these +presentiments are too strong not to be true. And have you not guessed +the most secret instincts of my heart? Why should I not be able to guess +the dangers with which you are menaced?" + +"What do you say? what have I guessed?" replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, +involuntarily impressed by the other's tone of conviction and alarm. + +"What have you guessed?" resumed the latter. "All the troublesome +susceptibility of an unfortunate creature, to whom destiny has decreed a +life apart. If I have hitherto been silent, it is not from ignorance of +what I owe you. Who told you, madame, that the only way to make me +accept your favors without blushing, was to give me some employment, that +would enable me to soothe the misfortunes I had so long shared? Who told +you, when you wished me to have a seat at your table, and to treat as +your friend the poor needlewoman, in whose person you sought to honor, +resignation and honest industry--who told you, when I answered with tears +of gratitude and regret, that it was not false modesty, but a +consciousness of my own ridiculous deformity, that made me refuse your +offer? Who told you that, but for this, I should have accepted it +proudly, in the name of all my low-born sisters? But you replied to me +with the touching words: `I understand your refusal, my friend; it is not +occasioned by false modesty, but by a sentiment of dignity that I love +and respect.' "Who told you," continued the workgirl, with increasing +animation, "that I should be so happy to find a little solitary retreat +in this magnificent house, which dazzles me with its splendor? Who +guided you in the choice of the apartment (still far too good) that you +have provided for me? Who taught you, that, without envying the beauty +of the charming creatures that surround you, and whom I love because they +love you, I should always feel, by an involuntary comparison, embarrassed +and ashamed before them? Who told you therefore to send them away, +whenever you wished to speak with me? Yes! who has revealed to you all +the painful and secret susceptibilities of a position like mine! Who has +revealed them to you? God, no doubt! who in His infinite majesty creates +worlds, and yet cares for the poor little insect hidden beneath the +grass. And you think, that the gratitude of a heart you have understood +so well, cannot rise in its turn to the knowledge of what may be hurtful +to you? No, no, lady; some people have the instinct of self- +preservation; others have the still more precious instinct that enables +them to preserve those they love. God has given me this instinct. I +tell you that you are betrayed!" And with animated look, and cheeks +slightly colored with emotion, the speaker laid such stress upon the last +words, and accompanied them with such energetic gesture, that Mdlle. de +Cardoville already shaken by the girl's warmth, began almost to share in +her apprehensions. Then, although she had before learned to appreciate +the superior intelligence of this poor child of the people, Mdlle. de +Cardoville had never till now heard her friend express herself with so +much eloquence--an eloquence, too, that was inspired by the noblest +sentiments. This circumstance added to the impression made upon +Adrienne. But at the moment she was about to answer, a knock was heard +at the door of the room, and Florine entered. + +On seeing the alarmed countenance of her waiting-maid, Mdlle. de +Cardoville said hastily: "Well, Florine! what news? Whence come you, my +child?" + +"From Saint-Dizier House, madame." + +"And why did you go there?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise. + +"This morning," said Florine, glancing at the workgirl, "madame, there, +confided to me her suspicions and uneasiness. I shared in them. The +visit of the Abbe d'Aigrigny to M. Rodin appeared to me very serious. I +thought, if it should turn out that M. Rodin had been during the last few +days to Saint-Dizier House, there would be no longer any doubt of his +treachery." + +"True," said Adrienne, more and more uneasy. "Well?" + +"As I had been charged to superintend the removal from the lodge, I knew +that several things had remained there. To obtain admittance, I had to +apply to Mrs. Grivois. I had thus a pretext for returning to the hotel." + +"What next, Florine, what next?" + +"I endeavored to get Mrs. Grivois to talk of M. Rodin; but it was in +vain." + +"She suspected you," said the workgirl. "It was to be anticipated." + +"I asked her," continued Florine, "if they had seen M. Rodin at the hotel +lately. She answered evasively. Then despairing of getting anything out +of her," continued Florine, "I left Mrs. Grivois, and that my visit might +excite no suspicion, I went to the pavilion--when, as I turn down the +avenue--whom do I see? why, M. Rodin himself, hastening towards the +little garden-door, wishing no doubt to depart unnoticed by that way." + +"Madame, you hear," cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with a +supplicating air; "such evidence should convince you." + +"M. Rodin at the Princess de Saint-Dizier's!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +whose glance, generally so mild, now suddenly flashed with vehement +indignation. Then she added, in a tone of considerable emotion, +"Continue, Florine." + +"At sight of M. Rodin, I stopped," proceeded Florine, "and keeping a +little on one side, I gained the pavilion without being seen. I looked +out into the street, through the closed blinds, and perceived a hackney +coach. It was waiting for M. Rodin, for, a minute after, he got into it, +saying to the coachman, `No. 39, Rue Blanche' + +"The prince's!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Yes, M. Rodin was to see him to-day," said Adrienne, reflecting. + +"No doubt he betrays you, madame, and the prince also; the latter will be +made his victim more easily than you." + +"Shame! shame!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, on a sudden, as she rose, all +her features contracted with painful anger. "After such a piece of +treachery, it is enough to make us doubt of everything--even of +ourselves." + +"Oh, madame! is it not dreadful?" said Mother Bunch, shuddering. + +"But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe +d'Aigrigny?" wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville. "Of a truth, it is enough to +make one lose one's reason. It is an abyss--but, oh! how frightful is +doubt!" + +"As I returned," said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion on +her mistress, "I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not a +minute to lose." + +"What do you mean?" said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise. + +"M. Rodin will soon be alone with the prince," said Florine. + +"No doubt," replied Adrienne. + +"The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse. +It is there that he will receive M. Rodin." + +"What then?" resumed Adrienne. + +"This greenhouse, which I had arranged according to your orders, has only +one issue--by a door leading into a little lane. The gardener gets in +that way every morning, so as not to have to pass through the apartments. +Having finished his work, he does not return thither during the day." + +"What do you mean? what is your project?" said Adrienne, looking at +Florine with growing surprise. + +"The plants are so disposed, that, I think, if even the shade were not +there, which screens the glass that separates the saloon from the +greenhouse, one might get near enough to hear what was passing in the +room, without being seen. When I was superintending the arrangements, I +always entered by this greenhouse door. The gardener had one key, and I +another. Luckily, I have not yet parted with mine. Within an hour, you +may know how far to trust M. Rodin. If he betrays the prince, he betrays +you also." + +"What say you?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Set out instantly with me; we reach the side door; I enter alone, for +precaution sake--if all is right, I return--" + +"You would have me turn spy?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, haughtily, +interrupting Florine. "You cannot think it. + +"I beg your pardon, madame," said the girl, casting down her eyes, with +confused and sorrowful air; "you had suspicions, and me seems 'tis the +only way to confirm or destroy them." + +"Stoop to listen to a conversation--never!" replied Adrienne. + +"Madame," said Mother Bunch, suddenly, after same moments' thought, +"permit me to tell you that Mdlle. Florine is right. The plan proposed +is a painful one, but it is the only way in which you can clear up, +perhaps, for ever, your doubts as to M. Rodin. Notwithstanding the +evidence of facts, in spite of the almost certainty of my presentiments, +appearances may deceive us. I was the first who accused M. Rodin to you. +I should not forgive myself all the rest of my life, did I accuse him +wrongfully. Beyond doubt, it is painful, as you say, madame, to listen +to a conversation--" Then, with a violent effort to console herself, she +added, as she strove to repress her tears, "Yet, as your safety is at +stake, madame--for, if this be treachery, the future prospect is +dreadful--I will go in your place--to--" + +"Not a word more, I entreat you," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +interrupting. "Let you, my poor friend, do for me what I thought +degrading to do myself? Never!" + +Then, turning to Florine, she added, "Tell M. de Bonneville to have the +carriage got ready on the instant." + +"You consent, then!" cried Florine, clasping her hands, and not seeking +to conceal her joy; and her eyes also became full of tears. + +"Yes, I consent," answered Adrienne, with emotion. "If it is to be war-- +war to the knife, that they would wage with me--I must be prepared for +it; and, come to think of it, it would only be weakness and folly not to +put myself on my guard. No doubt this step costs me much, and is very +repugnant to me, but it is the only way to put an end to suspicions that +would be a continual torment to me, and perhaps to prevent still greater +evils. Yes! for many important reasons, this interview of M. Rodin with +Prince Djalma may be doubly decisive to me--as to the confidence, or the +inexorable hate, that I must henceforth feel for M. Rodin. So, Florine, +quick!--my cloak and bonnet, and the carriage. You will go with me. As +for you, my dear, pray wait for me here," she added, turning to the work- +girl. + +Half an hour after this conversation, Adrienne's carriage stopped, as we +have before seen, at the little garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. Florine entered the greenhouse and soon returned to her +mistress. "The shade is down, madame. M. Rodin has just entered the +prince's room." Mdlle. de Cardoville was, therefore, present, though +invisible, at the following scene, which took place between Rodin and +Djalma. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THE LETTER. + +Some minutes before the entrance of Mdlle. de Cardoville into the +greenhouse, Rodin had been introduced by Faringhea into the presence of +the prince, who, still under the influence of the burning excitement into +which he had been plunged by the words of the half-caste, did not appear +to perceive the Jesuit. The latter, surprised at the animated expression +of Djalma's countenance, and his almost frantic air, made a sign of +interrogation to Faringhea, who answered him privately in the following +symbolical manner:--After laying his forefinger on his head and heart, he +pointed to the fire burning in the chimney, signifying by his pantomimic +action that the head and heart of Djalma were both in flames. No doubt +Rodin understood him, for an imperceptible smile of satisfaction played +upon his wan lips; then he said aloud to Faringhea, "I wish to be alone +with the prince. Let down the shade and see that we are not +interrupted." The half-caste bowed, and touched a spring near the sheet +of plate-glass, which slid into the wall as the blind descended; then, +again bowing, Faringhea left the room. It was shortly after that Mdlle. +de Cardoville and Florine entered the greenhouse, which was now only +separated from the room in which was Djalma, by the transparent thickness +of a shade of white silk, embroidered with large colored birds. The +noise of the door, which Faringhea closed as he went out, seemed to +recall the young Indian to himself; his features, though still animated, +recovered their habitual expression of mildness and gentleness; he +started, drew his hand across his brow, looked around him, as if waking +up from a deep reverie, and then, advancing towards Rodin, with an air as +respectful as confused, he said to him, using the expression commonly +applied to old men in his country, "Pardon me, father." Still following +the customs of his nation, so full of deference towards age, he took +Rodin's hand to raise it to his lips, but the Jesuit drew back a step, +and refused his homage. + +"For what do you ask pardon, my dear prince?" said he to Djalma. + +"When you entered, I was in a dream; I did not come to meet you. Once +more, pardon me, father!" + +"Once more, I forgive you with all my heart, my dear prince. But let us +have some talk. Pray resume your place on the couch, and your pipe, too, +if you like it." + +But Djalma, instead of adopting the suggestion, and throwing himself on +the divan, according to his custom, insisted on seating himself in a +chair, notwithstanding all the persuasions of "the Old Man with the Good +Heart," as he always called the Jesuit. + +"Really, your politeness troubles me, my dear prince," said Rodin; "you +are here at home in India; at least, we wish you to think so." + +"Many things remind me of my country," said Djalma, in a mild grave tone. +"Your goodness reminds me of my father, and of him who was a father to +me," added the Indian, as he thought of Marshal Simon, whose arrival in +Paris had been purposely concealed from him. + +After a moment's silence, he resumed in a tone full of affectionate +warmth, as he stretched out his hand to Rodin, "You are come, and I am +happy!" + +"I understand your joy, my dear prince, for I come to take you out of +prison--to open your cage for you. I had begged you to submit to a brief +seclusion, entirely for your own interest." + +"Can I go out to-morrow?" + +"To-day, my dear prince, if you please." + +The young Indian reflected for a moment, and then resumed, "I must have +friends, since I am here in a palace that does not belong to me." + +"Certainly you have friends--excellent friends," answered Rodin. At +these words, Djalma's countenance seemed to acquire fresh beauty. The +most noble sentiments were expressed in his fine features; his large +black eyes became slightly humid, and, after another interval of silence, +he rose and said to Rodin with emotion: "Come!" + +"Whither, dear prince?" said the other, much surprised. + +"To thank my friends. I have waited three days. It is long." + +"Permit me dear prince--I have much to tell you on this subject--please +to be seated." + +Djalma resumed his seat with docility. Rodin continued: "It is true that +you have friends; or rather, you have a friend. Friends are rare." + +"What are you?" + +"Well, then, you have two friends, my dear prince--myself, whom you know, +and one other, whom you do not know, and who desires to remain unknown to +you." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" answered Rodin, after a moment's embarrassment. "Because the +happiness he feels in giving you these proofs of his friendship and even +his own tranquillity, depend upon preserving this mystery." + +"Why should there be concealment when we do good?" + +"Sometimes, to conceal the good we do, my dear prince." + +"I profit by this friendship; why should he conceal himself from one?" +These repeated questions of the young Indian appeared to puzzle Rodin, +who, however, replied: "I have told you, my dear prince, that your secret +friend would perhaps have his tranquillity compromised, if he were +known." + +"If he were known--as my friend?" + +"Exactly so, dear prince." + +The countenance of Djalma immediately assumed an appearance of sorrowful +dignity; he raised his head proudly, and said in a stern and haughty +voice: "Since this friend hides himself from me, he must either be +ashamed of me, or there is reason for me to be ashamed of him. I only +accept hospitality from those who are worthy of me, and who think me +worthy of them. I leave this house." So saying, Djalma rose with such +an air of determination, that Rodin exclaimed: "Listen to me, my dear +prince. Allow me to tell you, that your petulance and touchiness are +almost incredible. Though we have endeavored to remind you of your +beautiful country, we are here in Europe, in France, in the centre of +Paris. This consideration may perhaps a little modify your views. +Listen to me, I conjure you." + +Notwithstanding his complete ignorance of certain social +conventionalisms, Djalma had too much good sense and uprightness, not to +appreciate reason, when it appeared reasonable. The words of Rodin +calmed him. With that ingenuous modesty, with which natures full of +strength and generosity are almost always endowed, he answered mildly: +"You are right, father. I am no longer in my own country. Here the +customs are different. I will reflect upon it." + +Notwithstanding his craft and suppleness, Rodin sometimes found himself +perplexed by the wild and unforseen ideas of the young Indian. Thus he +saw, to his great surprise, that Djalma now remained pensive for some +minutes, after which he resumed in a calm but firm tone: "I have obeyed +you, father: I have reflected." + +"Well, my dear prince?" + +"In no country in the world, under no pretext, should a man of honor +conceal his friendship for another man of honor." + +"But suppose there should be danger in avowing this friendship?" said +Rodin, very uneasy at the turn the conversation was taking. Djalma eyed +the Jesuit with contemptuous astonishment, and made no reply. + +"I understand your silence, my dear prince: a brave man ought to defy +danger. True; but if it should be you that the danger threatens, in case +this friendship were discovered, would not your man of honor be +excusable, even praiseworthy, to persist in remaining unknown?" + +"I accept nothing from a friend, who thinks me capable of denying him +from cowardice." + +"Dear prince--listen to me." + +"Adieu, father." + +"Yet reflect!" + +"I have said it," replied Djalma, in an abrupt and almost sovereign tone, +as he walked towards the door. + +"But suppose a woman were concerned," cried Rodin, driven to extremity, +and hastening after the young Indian, for he really feared that Djalma +might rush from the house, and thus overthrow all his projects. + +At the last words of Rodin the Indian stopped abruptly. "A woman!" said +he, with a start, and turning red. "A woman is concerned?" + +"Why, yes! suppose it were a woman," resumed Rodin, "would you not then +understand her reserve, and the secrecy with which she is obliged to +surround the marks of affection she wishes to give you?" + +"A woman! repeated Djalma, in a trembling voice, clasping his hands in +adoration; and his beautiful countenance was expressive of the deepest +emotion. "A woman!" said he again. "A Parisian?" + +"Yes, my dear prince, as you force me to this indiscretion, I will +confess to you that your friend is a real Parisian--a noble matron, +endowed with the highest virtues--whose age alone merits all your +respect." + +"She is very old, then?" cried poor Djalma, whose charming dream was thus +abruptly dispelled. + +"She may be a few years older than I am," answered Rodin, with an +ironical smile, expecting to see the young man express a sort of comical +disappointment or angry regret. + +But it was not so. To the passionate enthusiasm of love, which had for a +moment lighted up the prince's features, there now succeeded a respectful +and touching expression. He looked at Rodin with emotion, and said to +him in a broken voice: "This woman, is then, a mother to me?" + +It is impossible to describe with what a pious, melancholy, and tender +charm the Indian uttered the word mother. + +"You have it, my dear prince; this respectable lady wishes to be a mother +to you. But I may not reveal to you the cause of the affection she feels +for you. Only, believe me--this affection is sincere, and the cause +honorable. If I do not tell you her secret, it is that, with us, the +secrets of women, young or old, are equally sacred." + +"That is right, and I will respect it. Without seeing her, I will love +her--as I love God, without seeing Him." + +"And now, my dear prince, let me tell you what are the intentions of your +maternal friend. This house will remain at your disposal, as long as you +like it; French servants, a carriage, and horses, will be at your orders; +the charges of your housekeeping will be paid for you. Then, as the son +of a king should live royalty, I have left in the next room a casket +containing five hundred Louis; every month a similar sum will be +provided: if it should not be found sufficient for your little +amusements, you will tell me, and it shall be augmented." + +At a movement of Djalma, Rodin hastened to add: "I must tell you at once, +my dear prince, that your delicacy may be quite at ease. First of all, +you may accept anything from a mother; next, as in about three months you +will come into possession of an immense inheritance, it will be easy for +you, if you feel the obligation a burden--and the sum cannot exceed, at +the most, four or five thousand Louis--to repay these advances. Spare +nothing, then, but satisfy all your fancies. You are expected to appear +in the great world of Paris, in a style becoming the son of a king who +was called the Father of the Generous. So once again I conjure you not +to be restrained by a false delicacy; if this sum should not be +sufficient--" + +"I will ask for more. My mother is right; the son of a monarch ought to +live royally." + +Such was the answer of the Indian, made with perfect simplicity, and +without any appearance of astonishment at these magnificent offers. This +was natural. Djalma would have done for others what they were doing for +him, for the traditions of the prodigal magnificence and splendid +hospitality of Indian princes are well known. Djalma had been as moved +as grateful, on hearing that a woman loved him with maternal affection. +As for the luxury with which she nought to surround him, he accepted it +without astonishment and without scruple. This resignation, again, +somewhat disconcerted Rodin, who had prepared many excellent arguments to +persuade the Indian to accept his offers. + +"Well, then, it's all agreed, my dear prince," resumed the Jesuit. "Now, +as you must see the world, it's just as well to enter by the best door, +as we say. One of the friends of your maternal protectress, the Count de +Montbron, an old nobleman of the greatest experience, and belonging to +the first society, will introduce you in some of the best houses in +Paris." + +"Will you not introduce me, father?" + +"Alas! my dear prince, look at me. Tell me, if you think I am fitted +for such an office. No. no; I live alone and retired from the world. +And then," added Rodin, after a short silence, fixing a penetrating, +attentive, and curious look upon the prince, as if he would have +subjected him to a sort of experiment by what follows; "and then, you +see, M. de Montbron will be better able than I should, in the world you +are about to enter, to enlighten you as to the snares that will be laid +for you. For if you have friends, you have also enemies--cowardly +enemies, as you know, who have abused your confidence in an infamous +manner, and have made sport of you. And as, unfortunately, their power +is equal to their wickedness, it would perhaps be more prudent in you to +try to avoid them--to fly, instead of resisting them openly." + +At the remembrance of his enemies, at the thought of flying from them, +Djalma trembled in every limb; his features became of a lurid paleness; +his eyes wide open, so that the pupil was encircled with white, sparkled +with lurid fire; never had scorn, hatred, and the desire of vengeance, +expressed themselves so terribly on a human face. His upper lip, blood- +red, was curled convulsively, exposing a row of small, white, and close- +set teeth, and giving to his countenance lately so charming, an air of +such animal ferocity, that Rodin started from his seat, and exclaimed: +"What is the matter, prince? You frighten me." + +Djalma did not answer. Half leaning forward, with his hands clinched in +rage, he seemed to cling to one of the arms of the chair, for fear of +yielding to a burst of terrific fury. At this moment, the amber +mouthpiece of his pipe rolled, by chance, under one of his feet; the +violent tension, which contracted all the muscles of the young Indian, +was so powerful, and notwithstanding his youth and his light figure, he +was endowed with such vigor, that with one abrupt stamp he powdered to +dust the piece of amber, in spite of its extreme hardness. + +"In the name of heaven, what is the matter, prince?" cried Rodin. + +"Thus would I crush my cowardly enemies!" exclaimed Djalma, with menacing +and excited look. Then, as if these words had brought his rage to a +climax, he bounded from his seat, and, with haggard eyes, strode about +the room for some seconds in all directions, as if he sought for some +weapon, and uttered from time to time a hoarse cry, which he endeavored +to stifle by thrusting his clinched fist against his mouth, whilst his +jaws moved convulsively. It was the impotent rage of a wild beast, +thirsting for blood. Yet, in all this, the young Indian preserved a +great and savage beauty; it was evident that these instincts of +sanguinary ardor and blind intrepidity, now excited to this pitch by +horror of treachery and cowardice, when applied to war, or to those +gigantic Indian hunts, which are even more bloody than a battle, must +make of Djalma what he really was a hero. + +Rodin admired, with deep and ominous joy, the fiery impetuosity of +passion in the young Indian, for, under various conceivable +circumstances, the effect must be terrible. Suddenly, to the Jesuit's +great surprise, the tempest was appeased. Djalma's fury was calmed thus +instantaneously, because refection showed him how vain it was: ashamed of +his childish violence, he cast down his eyes. His countenance remained +pale and gloomy; and, with a cold tranquillity, far more formidable than +the violence to which he had yielded, he said to Rodin: "Father, you will +this day lead me to meet my enemies." + +"In what end, my dear prince? What would you do?" + +"Kill the cowards!" + +"Kill them! you must not think of it." + +"Faringhea will aid me." + +"Remember, you are not on the banks of the Ganges, and here one does not +kill an enemy like a hunted tiger." + +"One fights with a loyal enemy, but one kills a traitor like an accursed +dog," replied Djalma, with as much conviction as tranquillity. + +"Ah, prince, whose father was the Father of the Generous," said Rodin, in +a grave voice; "what pleasure can you find in striking down creatures as +cowardly as they are wicked?" + +"To destroy what is dangerous, is a duty." + +"So prince, you seek for revenge." + +"I do not revenge myself on a serpent," said the Indian, with haughty +bitterness; "I crush it." + +"But, my dear prince, here we cannot get rid of our enemies in that +manner. If we have cause of complaint--" + +"Women and children complain," said Djalma, interrupting Rodin: "men +strike." + +"Still on the banks of the Ganges, my dear prince. Here society takes +your cause into its own hands, examines, judges, and if there be good +reason, punishes." + +"In my own quarrel, I am both judge and executioner." + +"Pray listen to me; you have escaped the odious snares of your enemies, +have you not?--Well! suppose it were thanks to the devotion of the +venerable woman who has for you the tenderness of a mother, and that she +were to ask you to forgive them--she, who saved you from their hands-- +what would you do then?" + +The Indian hung his head, and was silent. Profiting by his hesitation, +Rodin continued: "I might say to you that I know your enemies, but that +in the dread of seeing you commit some terrible imprudence, I would +conceal their names from you forever. But no! I swear to you, that if +the respectable person, who loves you as her son, should find it either +right or useful that I should tell you their names, I will do so--until +she has pronounced, I must be silent." + +Djalma looked at Rodin with a dark and wrathful air. At this moment, +Faringhea entered, and said to Rodin: "A man with a letter, not finding +you at home, has been sent on here. Am I to receive it? He says it +comes from the Abbe d'Aigrigny. + +"Certainly," answered Rodin. "That is," he added, "with the prince's +permission." + +Djalma nodded in reply; Faringhea went out. + +"You will excuse what I have done, dear prince. I expected this morning +a very important letter. As it was late in coming to hand, I ordered it +to be sent on." + +A few minutes after, Faringhea returned with the letter, which he +delivered to Rodin--and the half-caste again withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +ADRIENNE AND DJALMA. + +When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbe +d'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be looking for +something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in the pocket +behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what he sought, he +laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over with both hands, +with an air of regret and uneasiness. The divers movements of this +pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned by the +exclamations. + +"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!" + +"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in +which he had been plunged for some minutes. + +"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile +accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I have +forgotten or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the very +poor eyesight that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely +impossible for me to read this most important letter--and an immediate +answer is expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Times +presses; it is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying great +stress on his words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince +might remark it; "if only some one would render me the service to read it +for me; but there is no one--no--one!" + +"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I have +finished it, I shall forget what I have read." + +"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared to +him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to read +this letter." + +"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly. + +"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if speaking +to himself, "why not?" + +And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, my +dear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service." + +So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud as +follows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only be +considered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part. + +"`Here is the last proposition I have to make. It may be as fruitless as +the step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis. + +"`After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would write +to you. I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum. + +"`First of all, a piece of advice. Beware! If you are determined to +maintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatred of +those whom you so foolishly seek to protect. There are a thousand ways +to ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects. It will +be proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which you now +pretend to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" Though +Djalma had the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subject of +this letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbear turning +his head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the last passage. + +"Oh, yes! it relates to me. Such as you see me, my dear prince," added +he, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity." + +"And who are these people that you protect?" + +"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if he had been +embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect? Hem--hem--I +will tell you. They are poor devils without resources; good people +without a penny, having only a just cause on their side, in a lawsuit in +which they are engaged. They are threatened with destruction by powerful +parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latter are known to +me, and I am able to unmask them. What else could have been? Being +myself poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the side of the poor +and weak. But continue, I beg of you." + +Djalma resumed: "`You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persist +in your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whom +you call your friends. They might more justly be termed your dupes, for +your disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere. It must +therefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity. + +"`Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you ample compensation-- +with this difference, that your hopes are now entirely founded on the +probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtful chance at the best, +whereas our offers will be realized on the instant. To speak clearly, +this is what we ask, what we exact of you. This very night, before +twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to return for six +months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, and looked at +Rodin. + +"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would be +judged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them. You see +how it is, my dear prince," added Rodin., with bitter indignation. "But +please continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though, +indeed, such impudence disgusts me." + +Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Paris for +six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends in Germany. +You will there be received with generous hospitality, but forcibly +detained until the expiration of the term.'" + +"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin. + +"`On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francs +a month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francs +down, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole to be +completely secured to you. Finally, at the end of the six months, we +will place you in a position both honorable and independent.'" + +Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said to +him: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince. Read to the end, and +it will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of our +civilization." + +Djalma resumed: "`You know well enough the course of affairs, and what we +are, to feel that in providing for your absence, we only wish to get rid +of an enemy, not very dangerous, but rather troublesome. Do not be +blinded by your first success. The results of your denunciation will be +stifled, because they are calumnious. The judge who received your +evidence will soon repent his odious partiality. You may make what use +you please of this letter. We know what we write, to whom we write, and +how we write. You will receive this letter at three o'clock; if by four +o'clock we have not your full and complete acceptance, written with your +own hand at the bottom of this letter, war must commence between us--and +not from to-morrow, but on the instant.'" + +Having finished reading the letter, Djalma looked at Rodin, who said to +him: "Permit me to summon Faringhea." + +He rang the bell, and the half-caste appeared. Rodin took the letter +from the hands of Djalma, tore it into halves, rubbed it between his +palms, so as to make a sort of a ball, and said to the half-caste, as he +returned it to him: "Give this palter to the person who waits for it, +and tell him that is my only answer to his shameless and insolent letter; +you understand me--this shameless and insolent letter." + +"I understand." said the half-caste; and he went out. + +"This will perhaps be a dangerous war for you, father, said the Indian, +with interest. + +"Yes, dear prince, it may be dangerous, but I am not like you; I have no +wish to kill my enemies, because they are cowardly and wicked. I fight +them under the shield of the law. Imitate me in this." Then, seeing +that the countenance of Djalma darkened, he added: "I am wrong. I will +advise you no more on this subject. Only, let us defer the decision to +the judgment of your noble and motherly protectress. I shall see her to- +morrow; if she consents, I will tell you the names of your enemies. If +not--not." + +"And this woman, this second mother," said Djalma, "is her character +such, that I can rely on her judgment?" + +"She!" cried Rodin, clasping his hands, and speaking with increased +excitement. "Why, she is the most noble, the most generous, the most +valiant being upon earth!--why, if you were really her son, and she loved +you with all the strength of maternal affection, and a case arose in +which you had to choose between an act of baseness and death, she would +say to you: 'Die!' though she might herself die with you." + +"Oh, noble woman! so was my mother!" cried Djalma, with enthusiasm. + +"Yes," resumed Rodin, with growing energy, as he approached the window +concealed by the shade, towards which he threw an oblique and anxious +glance, "if you would imagine your protectress, think only of courage, +uprightness, and loyalty personified. Oh! she has the chivalrous +frankness of the brave man, joined with the high-souled dignity of the +woman, who not only never in her life told a falsehood, never concealed a +single thought, but who would rather die than give way to the least of +those sentiments of craft and dissimulation, which are almost forced upon +ordinary women by the situation in which they are placed." + +It is difficult to express the admiration which shone upon the +countenance of Djalma, as he listened to this description. His eyes +sparkled, his cheeks glowed, his heart palpitated with enthusiasm. + +"That is well, noble heart!" said Rodin to him, drawing still nearer to +the blind; "I love to see your soul sparkle through your eyes, on hearing +me speak thus of your unknown protectress. Oh! but she is worthy of the +pious adoration which noble hearts and great characters inspire!" + +"Oh! I believe you," cried Djalma, with enthusiasm; "my heart is full of +admiration and also of astonishment, for my mother is no more, and yet +such a woman exists!" + +"Yes, she exists. For the consolation of the afflicted, for the glory of +her sex, she exists. For the honor of truth, and the shame of falsehood, +she exists. No lie, no disguise, has ever tainted her loyalty, brilliant +and heroic as the sword of a knight. It is but a few days ago that this +noble woman spoke to me these admirable words, which, in all my life, I +shall not forget: `Sir,' she said, `if ever I suspect any one that I love +or esteem--'" + +Rodin did not finish. The shade, so violently shaken that the spring +broke, was drawn up abruptly, and, to the great astonishment of Djalma, +Mdlle. de Cardoville appeared before him. Adrienne's cloak had fallen +from her shoulders, and in the violence of the movement with which she +had approached the blind, her bonnet, the strings of which were untied, +had also fallen. Having left home suddenly, with only just time to throw +a mantle over the picturesque and charming costume which she often chose +to wear when alone, she appeared so radiant with beauty to Djalma's +dazzled eyes, in the centre of those leaves and flowers, that the Indian +believed himself under the influence of a dream. + +With clasped hands, eyes wide open, the body slightly bent forward, as if +in the act of prayer, he stood petrified with admiration, Mdlle. de +Cardoville, much agitated, and her countenance glowing with emotion, +remained on the threshold of the greenhouse, without entering the room. +All this had passed in less time than it takes to describe it. Hardly +had the blind been raised, than Rodin, feigning surprise, exclaimed: "You +here, madame?" + +"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, in an agitated voice, "I come to terminate the +phrase which you have commenced. I told you, that when a suspicion +crossed my mind, I uttered it aloud to the person by whom it was +inspired. Well! I confess it: I have failed in this honesty. I came +here as a spy upon you, when your answer to the Abbe d'Aigrigny was +giving me a new pledge of your devotion and sincerity. I doubted your +uprightness at the moment when you were bearing testimony to my +frankness. For the first time in my life, I stooped to deceit; this +weakness merits punishment, and I submit to it--demands reparation, and I +make it--calls for apologies, and I tender them to you." Then turning +towards Djalma, she added: "Now, prince, I am no longer mistress of my +secret. I am your relation, Mdlle. de Cardoville; and I hope you will +accept from a sister the hospitality that you did not refuse from a +mother." + +Djalma made no reply. Plunged in ecstatic contemplation of this sudden +apparition, which surpassed his wildest and most dazzling visions, he +felt a sort of intoxication, which, paralyzing the power of thought, +concentrated all his faculties in the one sense of sight; and just as we +sometimes seek in vain to satisfy unquenchable thirst, the burning look +of the Indian sought, as it were, with devouring avidity, to take in all +the rare perfections of the young lady. Verily, never had two more +divine types of beauty met face to face. Adrienne and Djalma were the +very ideal of a handsome youth and maiden. There seemed to be something +providential in the meeting of these two natures, so young and so +vivacious, so generous and so full of passion, so heroic and so proud, +who, before coming into contact, had, singularly enough, each learned the +moral worth of the other; for if, at the words of Rodin, Djalma had felt +arise in his heart an admiration, as lively as it was sudden, for the +valiant and generous qualities of that unknown benefactress, whom he now +discovered in Mdlle. de Cardoville, the latter had, in her turn, been +moved, affected, almost terrified, by the interview she had just +overheard, in which Djalma had displayed the nobleness of his soul, the +delicate goodness of his heart, and the terrible transports of his +temper. Then she had not been able to repress a movement of +astonishment, almost admiration, at sight of the surprising beauty of the +prince; and soon after, a strange, painful sentiment, a sort of electric +shock, seemed to penetrate all her being, as her eyes encountered +Djalma's. + +Cruelly agitated, and suffering deeply from this agitation, she tried to +dissemble the impression she had received, by addressing Rodin, to +apologize for having suspected him. But the obstinate silence of the +Indian redoubled the lady's painful embarrassment. Again raising her +eyes towards the prince, to invite him to respond to her fraternal offer, +she met his ardent gaze wildly fixed upon her, and she looked once more +with a mixture of fear, sadness, and wounded pride; then she +congratulated herself on having foreseen the inexorable necessity of +keeping Djalma at a distance from her, such apprehension did this ardent +and impetuous nature already inspire. Wishing to put an end to her +present painful situation, she said to Rodin, in a low and trembling +voice, "Pray, sir, speak to the prince; repeat to him my offers. I +cannot remain longer." So saying, Adrienne turned, as if to rejoin +Florine. But, at the first step, Djalma sprang towards her with the +bound of a tiger, about to be deprived of his prey. Terrified by the +expression of wild excitement which inflamed the Indian's countenance, +the young lady drew back with a loud scream. + +At this, Djalma remembered himself, and all that had passed. Pale with +regret and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears, and +all his features marked with an expression of the most touching despair, +he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped hands towards her, +said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain! remain! do not +leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer, uttered with +the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation which contrasted +strangely with the savage violence that had so frightened Adrienne, she +replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare for their departure: +"Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longer here." + +"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "I +shall see you again?" + +"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice. +Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma, +Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse. + +Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at the moment +she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice: "To-morrow +we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in every limb, and, +without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress, behind the +plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees, with his +head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neither rage nor +excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. Seeing Rodin +approach him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he could hardly +reach the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in his hands. + +Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone: "Alas! +I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see your benefactress; +and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dear prince?" + +Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turned +towards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears. + +"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it is so +easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you that +misfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionately +loves a handsome young man of this town." + +Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as if +he felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw back his +head, and fell fainting upon the divan. + +Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he went +away, brushing his old hat with his elbow, + +"Come! it works--it works!" + + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE CONSULTATION. + +It is night. It has just struck nine. It is the evening of that day on +which Mdlle. de Cardoville first found herself in the presence of Djalma. +Florine, pale, agitated, trembling, with a candle in her hand, had just +entered a bedroom, plainly but comfortably furnished. This room was one +of the apartments occupied by Mother Bunch, in Adrienne's house. They +were situated on the ground-floor, and had two entrances. One opened on +the garden, and the other on the court-yard. From this side came the +persons who applied to the workgirl for succor; an ante-chamber in which +they waited, a parlor in which they were received, constituted Mother +Bunch's apartments, along with the bedroom, which Florine had just +entered, looking about her with an anxious and alarmed air, scarcely +touching the carpet with the tips of her satin shoes, holding her breath, +and listening at the least noise. + +Placing the candle upon the chimney-piece, she took a rapid survey of the +chamber, and approached the mahogany desk, surmounted by a well-filled +bookcase. The key had been left in the drawers of this piece of +furniture, and they were all three examined by Florine. They contained +different petitions from persons in distress, and various, notes in the +girl's handwriting. This was not what Florine wanted. Three cardboard +boxes were placed in pigeon-holes beneath the bookcase. These also were +vainly explored, and Florine, with a gesture of vexation, looked and +listened anxiously; then, seeing a chest of drawers, she made therein a +fresh and useless search. Near the foot of the bed was a little door, +leading to a dressing-room. Florine entered it, and looked--at first +without success--into a large wardrobe, in which were suspended several +black dresses, recently made for Mother Bunch, by order of Mdlle. de +Cardoville. Perceiving, at the bottom of this wardrobe, half hidden +beneath a cloak, a very shabby little trunk, Florine opened it hastily, +and found there, carefully folded up, the poor old garments in which the +work-girl had been clad when she first entered this opulent mansion. + +Florine started--an involuntary emotion contracted her features; but +considering that she had not liberty to indulge her feelings, but only to +obey Rodin's implacable orders, she hastily closed both trunk and +wardrobe, and leaving the dressing-room, returned into the bed-chamber. +After having again examined the writing-stand, a sudden idea occurred to +her. Not content with once more searching the cardboard boxes, she drew +out one of them from the pigeon-hole, hoping to find what she sought +behind the box: her first attempt failed, but the second was more +successful. She found behind the middle box a copy-book of considerable +thickness. She started in surprise, for she had expected something else; +yet she took the manuscript, opened it, and rapidly turned over the +leaves. After having perused several pages, she manifested her +satisfaction, and seemed as if about to put the book in her pocket; but +after a moment's reflection, she replaced it where she had found it, +arranged everything in order, took her candle, and quitted the apartment +without being discovered--of which, indeed, she had felt pretty sure, +knowing that Mother Bunch would be occupied with Mdlle. de Cardoville for +some hours. + +The day after Florine's researches, Mother Bunch, alone in her bed- +chamber, was seated in an arm-chair, close to a good fire. A thick +carpet covered the floor; through the window-curtains could be seen the +lawn of a large garden; the deep silence was only interrupted by the +regular ticking of a clock, and the crackling of the wood. Her hands +resting on the arms of the chair, she gave way to a feeling of happiness, +such as she had never so completely enjoyed since she took up her +residence at the hotel. For her, accustomed so long to cruel privations, +there was a kind of inexpressible charm in the calm silence of this +retreat--in the cheerful aspect of the garden, and above all, in the +consciousness that she was indebted for this comfortable position, to the +resignation and energy she had displayed, in the thick of the many severe +trials which now ended so happily. An old woman, with a mild and +friendly countenance, who had been, by express desire of Adrienne, +attached to the hunchback's service, entered the room and said to her: +"Mademoiselle, a young man wishes to speak to you on pressing business. +He gives his name as Agricola Baudoin." + +At this name, Mother Bunch uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy, +blushed slightly, rose and ran to the door which led to the parlor in +which was Agricola. + +"Good-morning, dear sister," said the smith, cordially embracing the +young girl, whose cheeks burned crimson beneath those fraternal kisses. + +"Ah, me!" cried the sempstress on a sudden, as she looked anxiously at +Agricola; "what is that black band on your forehead? You have been +wounded!" + +"A mere nothing," said the smith, "really nothing. Do not think of it. I +will tell you all about that presently. But first, I have things of +importance to communicate." + +"Come into my room, then; we shall be alone," Mother Bunch, as she went +before Agricola. + +Notwithstanding the expression of uneasiness which was visible on the +countenance of Agricola, he could not forbear smiling with pleasure as he +entered the room and looked around him. + +"Excellent, my poor sister! this is how I would always have you lodged. +I recognize here the hand of Mdlle. de Cardoville. What a heart! what a +noble mind!--Dost know, she wrote to me the day before yesterday, to +thank me for what I had done for her, and sent me a gold pin (very +plain), which she said I need not hesitate to accept, as it had no other +value but that of having been worn by her mother! You can't tell how +much I was affected by the delicacy of this gift!" + +"Nothing must astonish you from a heart like hers," answered the +hunchback. "But the wound--the wound?" + +"Presently, my good sister; I have so many things to tell you. Let us +begin by what is most pressing, for I want you to give me some good +advice in a very serious case. You know how much confidence I have in +your excellent heart and judgment. And then, I have to ask of you a +service--oh! a great service," added the smith, in an earnest, and almost +solemn tone, which astonished his hearer. "Let us begin with what is not +personal to myself." + +"Speak quickly." + +"Since my mother went with Gabriel to the little country curacy he has +obtained, and since my father lodges with Marshal Simon and the young +ladies, I have resided, you know, with my mates, at M. Hardy's factory, +in the common dwelling-house. Now, this morning but first, I must tell +you that M. Hardy, who has lately returned from a journey, is again +absent for a few days on business. This morning, then, at the hour of +breakfast, I remained at work a little after the last stroke of the bell; +I was leaving the workshop to go to our eating-room, when I saw entering +the courtyard, a lady who had just got out of a hackney-coach. I +remarked that she was fair, though her veil was half down; she had a mild +and pretty countenance, and her dress was that of a fashionable lady. +Struck with her paleness, and her anxious, frightened air, I asked her if +she wanted anything. `Sir,' said she to me, in a trembling voice, and as +if with a great effort, `do you belong to this factory?'--`Yes, madame.'- +-`M. Hardy is then in clanger?' she exclaimed.--`M. Hardy, madame? He +has not yet returned home.'--`What!' she went on, `M. Hardy did not come +hither yesterday evening? Was he not dangerously wounded by some of the +machinery?' As she said these words, the poor young lady's lips +trembled, and I saw large tears standing in her eyes. `Thank God, +madame! all this is entirely false,' said I, `for M. Hardy has not +returned, and indeed is only expected by to-morrow or the day after.'-- +'You are quite sure that he has not returned! quite sure that he is not +hurt?' resumed the pretty young lady, drying her eyes.--`Quite sure, +madame; if M. Hardy were in danger, I should not be so quiet in talking +to you about him.'--'Oh! thank God! thank God!' cried the young lady. +Then she expressed to me her gratitude, with so happy, so feeling an air, +that I was quite touched by it. But suddenly, as if then only she felt +ashamed of the step she had taken, she let down her veil, left me +precipitately, went out of the court-yard, and got once more into the +hackney-coach that had brought her. I said to myself: `This is a lady +who takes great interest in M. Hardy, and has been alarmed by a false +report."' + +"She loves him, doubtless," said Mother Bunch, much moved, "and, in her +anxiety, she perhaps committed an act of imprudence, in coming to inquire +after him." + +"It is only too true. I saw her get into the coach with interests, for +her emotion had infected me. The coach started--and what did I see a few +seconds after? A cab, which the young lady could not have perceived, for +it had been hidden by an angle of the wall; and, as it turned round the +corner, I distinguished perfectly a man seated by the driver's side, and +making signs to him to take the same road as the hackney-coach." + +"The poor young lady was followed," said Mother Bunch, anxiously. + +"No doubt of it; so I instantly hastened after the coach, reached it, and +through the blinds that were let down, I said to the young lady, whilst I +kept running by the side of the coach door: `Take care, madame; you are +followed by a cab. + +"Well, Agricola! and what did she answer?" + +"I heard her exclaim, `Great Heaven!' with an accent of despair. The +coach continued its course. The cab soon came up with me; I saw, by the +side of the driver, a great, fat, ruddy man, who, having watched me +running after the coach, no doubt suspected something, for he looked at +me somewhat uneasily." + +"And when does M. Hardy return?" asked the hunchback. + +"To-morrow, or the day after. Now, my good sister, advise me. It is +evident that this young lady loves M. Hardy. She is probably married, +for she looked so embarrassed when she spoke to me, and she uttered a cry +of terror on learning that she was followed. What shall I do? I wished +to ask advice of Father Simon, but he is so very strict in such matters-- +and then a love affair, at his age!--while you are so delicate and +sensible, my good sister, that you will understand it all." + +The girl started, and smiled bitterly; Agricola did not perceive it, and +thus continued: "So I said to myself, `There is only Mother Bunch, who +can give me good advice.' Suppose M. Hardy returns to-morrow, shall I +tell him what has passed or not?" + +"Wait a moment," cried the other, suddenly interrupting Agricola, and +appearing to recollect something; "when I went to St. Mary's Convent, to +ask for work of the superior, she proposed that I should be employed by +the day, in a house in which I was to watch or, in other words, to act as +a spy--" + +"What a wretch!" + +"And do you know," said the girl, "with whom I was to begin this odious +trade? Why, with a Madame de-Fremont, or de Bremont, I do not remember +which, a very religious woman, whose daughter, a young married lady, +received visits a great deal too frequent (according to the superior) +from a certain manufacturer." + +"What do you say?" cried Agricola. "This manufacturer must be--" + +"M. Hardy. I had too many reasons to remember that name, when it was +pronounced by the superior. Since that day, so many other events have +taken place, that I had almost forgotten the circumstance. But it is +probable that this young lady is the one of whom I heard speak at the +convent." + +"And what interest had the superior of the convent to set a spy upon +her?" asked the smith. + +"I do not know; but it is clear that the same interest still exists, +since the young lady was followed, and perhaps, at this hour, is +discovered and dishonored. Oh! it is dreadful!" Then, seeing Agricola +start suddenly, Mother Bunch added: "What, then, is the matter?" + +"Yes--why not?" said the smith, speaking to himself; "why may not all +this be the work of the same hand? The superior of a convent may have a +private understanding with an abbe--but, then, for what end?" + +"Explain yourself, Agricola," said the girl. "And then,--where did you +get your wound? Tell me that, I conjure you." + +"It is of my wound that I am just going to speak; for in truth, the more +I think of it, the more this adventure of the young lady seems to connect +itself with other facts." + +"How so?" + +"You must know that, for the last few days, singular things are passing +in the neighborhood of our factory. First, as we are in Lent, an abbe +from Paris (a tall, fine-looking man, they say) has come to preach in the +little village of Villiers, which is only a quarter of a league from our +works. The abbe has found occasion to slander and attack M. Hardy in his +sermons." + +"How is that?" + +"M. Hardy has printed certain rules with regard to our work, and the +rights and benefits he grants us. These rules are followed by various +maxims as noble as they are simple; with precepts of brotherly love such +as all the world can understand, extracted from different philosophies +and different religions. But because M. Hardy has chosen what is best in +all religions, the abbe concludes that M. Hardy has no religion at all, +and he has therefore not only attacked him for this in the pulpit, but +has denounced our factory as a centre of perdition and damnable +corruption, because, on Sundays, instead of going to listen to his +sermons, or to drink at a tavern, our comrades, with their wives and +children, pass their time in cultivating their little gardens, in +reading, singing in chorus, or dancing together in the common dwelling- +house. The abbe has even gone so far as to say, that the neighborhood of +such an assemblage of atheists, as he calls us, might draw down the anger +of Heaven upon the country--that the hovering of Cholera was much talked +of, and that very possibly, thanks to our impious presence, the plague +might fall upon all our neighborhood." + +"But to tell such things to ignorant people," exclaimed Mother Bunch, "is +likely to excite them to fatal actions." + +"That is just what the abbe wants." + +"What do you tell me?" + +"The people of the environs, still more excited, no doubt by other +agitators, show themselves hostile to the workmen of our factory. Their +hatred, or at least their envy, has been turned to account. Seeing us +live all together, well lodged, well warmed, and comfortably clad, +active, gay, and laborious, their jealousy has been embittered by the +sermons, and by the secret manoeuvres of some depraved characters, who +are known to be bad workmen, in the employment of M. Tripeaud, our +opposition. All this excitement is beginning to bear fruit; there have +been already two or three fights between us and our neighbors. It was in +one of these skirmishes that I received a blow with a stone on my head." + +"Is it not serious, Agricola?--are you quite sure?" said Mother Bunch, +anxiously. + +"It is nothing at all, I tell you. But the enemies of M. Hardy have not +confined themselves to preaching. They have brought into play something +far more dangerous." + +"What is that?" + +"I, and nearly all my comrades, did our part in the three Revolutionary +days of July; but we are not eager at present, for good reasons, to take +up arms again. That is not everybody's opinion; well, we do not blame +others, but we have our own ideas; and Father Simon, who is as brave as +his son, and as good a patriot as any one, approves and directs us. Now, +for some days past, we find all about the factory, in the garden, in the +courts, printed papers to this effect: `You are selfish cowards; because +chance has given you a good master, you remain indifferent to the +misfortunes of your brothers, and to the means of freeing them; material +comforts have enervated your hearts.'" + +"Dear me, Agricola! what frightful perseverance in wickedness!" + +"Yes! and unfortunately these devices have their effect on some of our +younger mates. As the appeal was, after all, to proud and generous +sentiments, it has had some influence. Already, seeds of division have +shown themselves in our workshops, where, before, all were united as +brothers. A secret agitation now reigns there. Cold suspicion takes the +place, with some, of our accustomed cordiality. Now, if I tell you that +I am nearly sure these printed papers, thrown over the walls of our +factory, to raise these little sparks of discord amongst us, have been +scattered about by the emissaries of this same preaching abbe--would it +not seem from all this, taken in conjunction with what happened this +morning to the young lady, that M. Hardy has of late numerous enemies?" + +"Like you, I think it very fearful, Agricola," said the girl; "and it is +so serious, that M. Hardy alone can take a proper decision on the +subject. As for what happened this morning to the young lady, it appears +to me, that, immediately on M. Hardy's return, you should ask for an +interview with him, and, however delicate such a communication may be, +tell him all that passed." + +"There is the difficulty. Shall I not seem as if wishing to pry into his +secrets?" + +"If the young lady had not been followed, I should have shared your +scruples. But she was watched, and is evidently in danger. It is +therefore, in my opinion, your duty to warn M. Hardy. Suppose (which is +not improbable) that the lady is married; would it not be better, for a +thousand reasons, that M. Hardy should know all?" + +"You are right, my good sister; I will follow your advice. M. Hardy +shall know everything. But now that we have spoken of others, I have to +speak of myself--yes, of myself--for it concerns a matter, on which may +depend the happiness of my whole life," added the smith, in a tone of +seriousness, which struck his hearer. "You know," proceeded Agricola, +after a moment's silence, "that, from my childhood, I have never +concealed anything from you--that I have told you everything--absolutely +everything?" + +"I know it, Agricola, I know it," said the hunchback, stretching out her +white and slender hand to the smith, who grasped it cordially, and thus +continued: "When I say everything, I am not quite exact--for I have +always concealed from you my little love-affairs--because, though we may +tell almost anything to a sister, there are subjects of which we ought +not to speak to a good and virtuous girl, such as you are." + +"I thank you, Agricola. I had remarked this reserve on your part," +observed the other, casting down her eyes, and heroically repressing the +grief she felt; "I thank you." + +"But for the very reason, that I made it a duty never to speak to you of +such love affairs, I said to myself, if ever it should happen that I have +a serious passion--such a love as makes one think of marriage--oh! then, +just as we tell our sister even before our father and mother, my good +sister shall be the first to be informed of it." + +"You are very kind, Agricola." + +"Well then! the serious passion has come at last. I am over head and +ears in love, and I think of marriage." + +At these words of Agricola, poor Mother Bunch felt herself for an instant +paralyzed. It seemed as if all her blood was suddenly frozen in her +veins. For some seconds, she thought she was going to die. Her heart +ceased to beat; she felt it, not breaking, but melting away to nothing. +Then, the first blasting emotion over, like those martyrs who found, in +the very excitement of pain, the terrible power to smile in the midst of +tortures, the unfortunate girl found, in the fear of betraying the secret +of her fatal and ridiculous love, almost incredible energy. She raised +her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said to him in +a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly love?" + +"That is to say, my good sister, that, for the last four days, I scarcely +live at all--or live only upon this passion." + +"It is only since four days that you have been in love?" + +"Not more--but time has nothing to do with it." + +"And is she very pretty?" + +"Dark hair--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--blue eyes, as large as +that--and as mild, as good as your own." + +"You flatter me, Agricola." + +"No, no, it is Angela that I flatter--for that's her name. What a pretty +one! Is it not, my good Mother Bunch?" + +"A charming name," said the poor girl, contrasting bitterly that graceful +appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless Agricola applied +to her without thinking of it. Then she resumed, with fearful calmness: +"Angela? yes, it is a charming name!" + +"Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this name is not only suited to +her face, but to her heart. In a word, I believe her heart to be almost +equal to yours." + +"She has my eyes--she has my heart," said Mother Bunch, smiling. "It is +singular, how like we are." + +Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words. +He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you +think, my good girl, that I could ever have fallen seriously in love with +any one, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?" + +"Come, brother," said the girl, smiling--yes, the unfortunate creature +had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein to- +day. Where did you make the acquaintance of this beautiful young +person?" + +"She is only the sister of one of my mates. Her mother is the head +laundress in our common dwelling, and as she was in want of assistance, +and we always take in preference the relations of members of the +association, Mrs. Bertin (that's the mother's name) sent for her daughter +from Lille, where she had been stopping with one of her aunts, and, for +the last five days, she has been in the laundry. The first evening I saw +her, I passed three hours, after work was over, in talking with her, and +her mother and brother; and the next day, I felt that my heart was gone; +the day after that, the feeling was only stronger--and now I am quite mad +about her, and resolved on marriage--according as you shall decide. Do +not be surprised at this; everything depends upon you. I shall only ask +my father and mother's leave, after I have yours." + +"I do not understand you, Agricola." + +"You know the utter confidence I have in the incredible instinct of your +heart. Many times, you have said to me: 'Agricola, love this person, +love that person, have confidence in that other'--and never yet were you +deceived. Well! you must now render me the same service. You will ask +permission of Mdlle. de Cardoville to absent yourself; I will take you to +the factory: I have spoken of you to Mrs. Benin and her daughter, as of a +beloved sister; and, according to your impression at sight of Angela, I +will declare myself or not. This may be childishness, or superstition, +on my part; but I am so made." + +"Be it so," answered Mother Bunch, with heroic courage; "I will see +Mdlle. Angela; I will tell you what I think of her--and that, mind you, +sincerely." + +"I know it. When will you come?" + +"I must ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day she can spare sue. I will let +you know." + +"Thanks, my good sister!" said Agricola warmly; then he added, with a +smile: "Bring your best judgment with you--your full dress judgment." + +"Do not make a jest of it, brother," said Mother Bunch, in a mild, sad +voice; "it is a serious matter, for it concerns the happiness of your +whole life." + +At this moment, a modest knock was heard at the door. "Come in," said +Mother Bunch. Florine appeared. + +"My mistress begs that you will come to her, if you are not engaged," +said Florine to Mother Bunch. + +The latter rose, and, addressing the smith, said to him: "Please wait a +moment, Agricola. I will ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day I can dispose +of, and I will come and tell you." So saying, the girl went out, leaving +Agricola with Florine. + +"I should have much wished to pay my respects to Mdlle. de Cardoville," +said Agricola; "but I feared to intrude." + +"My lady is not quite well, sir," said Florine, "and receives no one to- +day. I am sure, that as soon as she is better, she will be quite pleased +to see you." + +Here Mother Bunch returned, and said to Agricola: "If you can come for me +to-morrow, about three o'clock, so as not to lose the whole day, we will +go to the factory, and you can bring me back in the evening." + +"Then, at three o'clock to-morrow, my good sister." + +"At three to-morrow, Agricola." + +The evening of that same day, when all was quiet in the hotel, Mother +Bunch, who had remained till ten o'clock with Mdlle. de Cardoville, re- +entered her bedchamber, locked the door after her, and finding herself at +length free and unrestrained, threw herself on her knees before a chair, +and burst into tears. She wept long--very long. When her tears at +length ceased to flow, she dried her eyes, approached the writing-desk, +drew out one of the boxes from the pigeonhole, and, taking from this +hiding-place the manuscript which Florine had so rapidly glanced over the +evening before, she wrote in it during a portion of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +MOTHER BUNCH'S DIARY. + +We have said that the hunchback wrote during a portion of the night, in +the book discovered the previous evening by Florine, who had not ventured +to take it away, until she had informed the persons who employed her of +its contents, and until she had received their final orders on the +subject. Let us explain the existence of this manuscript, before opening +it to the reader. The day on which Mother Bunch first became aware of +her love for Agricola, the first word of this manuscript had been +written. Endowed with an essentially trusting character, yet always +feeling herself restrained by the dread of ridicule--a dread which, in +its painful exaggeration, was the workgirl's only weakness--to whom could +the unfortunate creature have confided the secret of that fatal passion, +if not to paper--that mute confidant of timid and suffering souls, that +patient friend, silent and cold, who, if it makes no reply to heart- +rending complaints, at least always listens, and never forgets? + +When her heart was overflowing with emotion, sometimes mild and sad, +sometimes harsh and bitter, the poor workgirl, finding a melancholy charm +in these dumb and solitary outpourings of the soul, now clothed in the +form of simple and touching poetry, and now in unaffected prose, had +accustomed herself by degrees not to confine her confidences to what +immediately related to Agricola, for though he might be mixed up with all +her thoughts, for reflections, which the sight of beauty, of happy love, +of maternity, of wealth, of misfortune, called up within her, were so +impressed with the influence of her unfortunate personal position, that +she would not even have dared to communicate them to him. Such, then, +was this journal of a poor daughter of the people, weak, deformed, and +miserable, but endowed with an angelic soul, and a fine intellect, +improved by reading, meditation, and solitude; pages quite unknown, which +yet contained many deep and striking views, both as regard men and +things, taken from the peculiar standpoint in which fate had placed this +unfortunate creature. The following lines, here and there abruptly +interrupted or stained with tears, according to the current of her +various emotions, on hearing of Agricola's deep love for Angela, formed +the last pages of this journal: + +"Friday, March 3d, 1832. + +"I spent the night without any painful dreams. This morning, I rose with +no sorrowful presentiment. I was calm and tranquil when Agricola came. +He did not appear to me agitated. He was simple and affectionate as he +always is. He spoke to me of events relating to M. Hardy, and then, +without transition, without hesitation, he said to me: `The last four +days I have been desperately in love. The sentiment is so serious, that +I think of marriage. I have come to consult you about it.' That was how +this overwhelming revelation was made to me--naturally and cordially -I +on one side of the hearth, and Agricola an the other, as if we had talked +of indifferent things. And yet no more is needed to break one's heart. +Some one enters, embraces you like a brother, sits down, talks--and then- +-Oh! Merciful heaven! my head wanders. + +"I feel calmer now. Courage, my poor heart, courage!--Should a day of +misfortune again overwhelm me, I will read these lines written under the +impression of the most cruel grief I can ever feel, and I will say to +myself: `What is the present woe compared to that past?' My grief is +indeed cruel! it is illegitimate, ridiculous, shameful: I should not dare +to confess it, even to the most indulgent of mothers. Alas! there are +some fearful sorrows, which yet rightly make men shrug their shoulders in +pity or contempt. Alas! these are forbidden misfortunes. Agricola has +asked me to go to-morrow, to see this young girl to whom he is so +passionately attached, and whom he will marry, if the instinct of my +heart should approve the marriage. This thought is the most painful of +all those which have tortured me since he so pitilessly announced this +love. Pitilessly? No, Agricola--no, my brother--forgive me this unjust +cry of pain! Is it that you know, can even suspect, that I love you +better than you love, better than you can ever love, this charming +creature? + +"`Dark-haired--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--with blue eyes--as +large as that--and almost as mild as your own.' + +"That is the portrait he drew of her. Poor Agricola! how would he have +suffered, had he known that every one of his words was tearing my heart. +Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity, +inspired by a good, affectionate being, who, in the sincerity of his +ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame him- +-no--we pity him to the full extent of the grief that he would feel on +learning the pain he had caused me. It is strange! but never did +Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly +countenance was slightly agitated, as he spoke of the uneasiness of that +pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman +who runs the risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart beat +violently, my hands were burning, a soft languor floated over me-- +Ridiculous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus! + +"I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass. I +felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but +no matter--it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone +finely, my gaze beamed mild--I found Agricola so handsome, that I almost +began to think myself less ugly--no doubt, to excuse myself in my own +eyes for daring to love him. After all, what happened to-day would have +happened one day or another! Yes, that is consoling--like the thoughts +that death is nothing, because it must come at last--to those who are in +love with life! I have been always preserved from suicide--the last +resource of the unfortunate, who prefer trusting in God to remaining +amongst his creatures--by the sense of duty. One must not only think of +self. And I reflected also`God is good--always good--since the most +wretched beings find opportunities for love and devotion.' How is it that +I, so weak and poor, have always found means to be helpful and useful to +some one? + +"This very day I felt tempted to make an end with life--Agricola and his +mother had no longer need of me.--Yes, but the unfortunate creatures whom +Mdlle. de Cardoville has commissioned me to watch over?--but my +benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with +the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever +alarmed for her--I feel that she is more than ever in danger--more than +ever--I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must +live. Live--to go to-morrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately +loves? Good heaven! why have I always known grief, and never hate? +There must be a bitter pleasure in hating. So many people hate!--Perhaps +I may hate this girl--Angela, as he called her, when he said, with so +much simplicity: `A charming name, is it not, Mother Bunch?' Compare this +name, which recalls an idea so full of grace, with the ironical symbol of +my witch's deformity! Poor Agricola! poor brother! goodness is sometimes +as blind as malice, I see. Should I hate this young girl?--Why? Did she +deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola? Can I find fault with +her for being beautiful? When I was not yet accustomed to the +consequences of my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter curiosity, why +the Creator had endowed his creatures so unequally. The habit of pain +has allowed me to reflect calmly, and I have finished by persuading +myself, that to beauty and ugliness are attached the two most noble +emotions of the soul--admiration and compassion. Those who are like me +admire beautiful persons--such as Angela, such as Agricola--and these in +their turn feel a couching pity for such as I am. Sometimes, in spite of +one's self, one has very foolish hopes. Because Agricola, from a feeling +of propriety had never spoken to me of his love affairs, I sometimes +persuaded myself that he had none--that he loved me, and that the fear of +ridicule alone was with him, as with me, an obstacle in the way of +confessing it. Yes, I have even made verses on that subject--and those, +I think, not the worst I have written. + +"Mine is a singular position! If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love +me, he is still more ridiculous. How did I come so to forget that, as to +have suffered and to suffer what I do?--But blessed be that suffering, +since it has not engendered hate--no; for I will not hate this girl--I +will Perform a sister's part to the last; I will follow the guidance of +my heart; I have the instinct of preserving others--my heart will lead +and enlighten me. My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when I +see her, and not be able to conquer my emotion. Oh, then! what a +revelation to Agricola--a discovery of the mad love he has inspired!--Oh, +never! the day in which he knew that would be the last of my life. There +would then be within me something stronger than duty--the longing to +escape from shame--that incurable shame, that burns me like a hot iron. +No, no; I will be calm. Besides, did I not just now, when with him bear +courageously a terrible trial? I will be calm. My personal feelings +must not darken the second sight, so clear for those I love. Oh! +painful--painful task! for the fear of yielding involuntarily to evil +sentiments must not render me too indulgent toward this girl. I might +compromise Agricola's happiness, since my decision is to guide his +choice. Poor creature that I am. How I deceive myself! Agricola asks +my advice, because he thinks that I shall have not the melancholy courage +to oppose his passion; or else he would say to me: `No matter--I love; +and I brave the future!' + +"But then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide +him--if his resolution is taken beforehand--of what use will be to- +morrow's painful mission? Of what use? To obey him. Did he not say-- +'Come!' In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the secret +depths of my heart, I have asked myself if the thought had ever occurred +to him to love me otherwise than as a sister; if it had ever struck him, +what a devoted wife he would have in me! And why should it have occurred +to him? As long as he wished, as long as he may still wish, I have been, +and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his wife, sister, or +mother. Why should he desire what he already possesses? + +"Married to him--oh, God!--the dream is mad as ineffable. Are not such +thoughts of celestial sweetness--which include all sentiments from +sisterly to maternal love--forbidden to me, on pain of ridicule as +distressing as if I wore dresses and ornaments, that my ugliness and +deformity would render absurd? I wonder, if I were now plunged into the +most cruel distress, whether I should suffer as much as I do, on hearing +of Agricola's intended marriage? Would hunger, cold, or misery diminish +this dreadful dolor?--or is it the dread pain that would make me forget +hunger, cold, and misery? + +"No, no; this irony is bitter. It is not well in me to speak thus. Why +such deep grief? In what way have the affection, the esteem, the respect +of Agricola, changed towards me? I complain--but how would it be, kind +heaven! if, as, alas! too often happens, I were beautiful, loving, +devoted, and he had chosen another, less beautiful, less loving, less +devoted?--Should I not be a thousand times more unhappy? for then I +might, I would have to blame him--whilst now I can find no fault with +him, for never having thought of a union which was impossible, because +ridiculous. And had he wished it, could I ever have had the selfishness +to consent to it? I began to write the first pages of this diary as I +began these last, with my heart steeped in bitterness--and as I went on, +committing to paper what I could have intrusted to no one, my soul grew +calm, till resignation came--Resignation, my chosen saint, who, smiling +through her tears, suffers and loves, but hopes--never!" + +These word's were the last in the journal. It was clear, from the blots +of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to +weep. + +In truth, worn out by so many emotions, Mother Bunch late in the night, +had replaced the book behind the cardboard box, not that she thought it +safer there than elsewhere (she had no suspicion of the slightest need +for such precaution), but because it was more out of the way there than +in any of the drawers, which she frequently opened in presence of other +people. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily +accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola, and +firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's factory. +Florine, informed of her departure, but detained a portion of the day in +attendance on Mdlle. de Cardoville preferred waiting for night to perform +the new orders she had asked and received, since she had communicated by +letter the contents of Mother Bunch's journal. Certain not to be +surprised, she entered the workgirls' chamber, as soon as the night was +come. + +Knowing the place where she should find the manuscript, she went straight +to the desk, took out the box, and then, drawing from her pocket a sealed +letter, prepared to leave it in the place of the manuscript, which she +was to carry away with her. So doing, she trembled so much, that she was +obliged to support herself an instant by the table. Every good sentiment +was not extinct in Florine's heart; she obeyed passively the orders she +received, but she felt painfully how horrible and infamous was her +conduct. If only herself had been concerned, she would no doubt have had +the courage to risk all, rather than submit to this odious despotism; but +unfortunately, it was not so, and her ruin would have caused the mortal +despair of another person whom she loved better than life itself. She +resigned herself, therefore, not without cruel anguish, to abominable +treachery. + +Though she hardly ever knew for what end she acted, and this was +particularly the case with regard to the abstraction of the journal, she +foresaw vaguely, that the substitution of this sealed letter for the +manuscript would have fatal consequences for Mother Bunch, for she +remembered Rodin's declaration, that "it was time to finish with the +young sempstress." + +What did he mean by those words? How would the letter that she was +charged to put in the place of the diary, contribute to bring about this +result? she did not know--but she understood that the clear-sighted +devotion of the hunchback justly alarmed the enemies of Mdlle. de +Cardoville, and that she (Florine) herself daily risked having her +perfidy detected by the young needlewoman. This last fear put an end to +the hesitations of Florine; she placed the letter behind the box, and, +hiding the manuscript under her apron, cautiously withdrew from the +chamber. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +THE DIARY CONTINUED. + +Returned into her own room, some hours after she had concealed there the +manuscript abstracted from Mother Bunch's apartment, Florine yielded to +her curiosity, and determined to look through it. She soon felt a +growing interest, an involuntary emotion, as she read more of these +private thoughts of the young sempstress. Among many pieces of verse, +which all breathed a passionate love for Agricola--a love so deep, +simple, and sincere, that Florine was touched by it, and forgot the +author's deformity--among many pieces of verse, we say, were divers other +fragments, thoughts, and narratives, relating to a variety of facts. We +shall quote some of them, in order to explain the profound impression +that their perusal made upon Florine. + +Fragments from the Diary. + +"This is my birthday. Until this evening, I had cherished a foolish +hope. Yesterday, I went down to Mrs. Baudoin's, to dress a little wound +she had on her leg. When I entered the room, Agricola was there. No +doubt he was talking of me to his mother, for they stopped when I came +in, and exchanged a meaning smile. In passing by the drawers, I saw a +pasteboard box, with a pincushion-lid, and I felt myself blushing with +joy, as I thought this little present was destined for me, but I +pretended not to see it. While I was on my knees before his mother, +Agricola went out. I remarked that he took the little box with him. +Never has Mrs. Baudoin been more tender and motherly than she was that +morning. It appeared to me that she went to bed earlier than usual. `It +is to send me away sooner,' said I to myself, `that I may enjoy the +surprise Agricola has prepared for me.' How my heart beat, as I ran fast, +very fast, up to my closet! I stopped a moment before opening the door, +that my happiness might last the longer. At last I entered the room, my +eyes swimming with tears of joy. I looked upon my table, my chair, my +bed--there was nothing. The little box was not to be found. My heart +sank within me. Then I said to myself: `It will be to-morrow--this is +only the eve of my birthday.' The day is gone. Evening is come. +Nothing. The pretty box was not for me. It had a pincushion-cover. It +was only suited for a woman. To whom has Agricola given it? + +"I suffer a good deal just now. It was a childish idea that I connected +with Agricola's wishing me many happy returns of the day. I am ashamed +to confess it; but it might have proved to me, that he has not forgotten +I have another name besides that of Mother Bunch, which they always apply +to me. My susceptibility on this head is unfortunately so stubborn, that +I cannot help feeling a momentary pang of mingled shame and sorrow, every +time that I am called by that fairy-tale name, and yet I have had no +other from infancy. It is for that very reason that I should have been +so happy if Agricola had taken this opportunity to call me for once by my +own humble name--Magdalen. Happily, he will never know these wishes and +regrets!" + +Deeper and deeper touched by this page of simple grief, Florine turned +over several leaves, and continued: + +"I have just been to the funeral of poor little Victorine Herbin, our +neighbor. Her father, a journeyman upholsterer, is gone to work by the +month, far from Paris. She died at nineteen, without a relation near +her. Her agony was not long. The good woman who attended her to the +last, told us that she only pronounced these words: `At last, oh at +last!' and that with an air of satisfaction, added the nurse. Dear +child! she had become so pitiful. At fifteen, she was a rosebud--so +pretty, so fresh-looking, with her light hair as soft as silk; but she +wasted away by degrees--her trade of renovating mattresses killed her. +She was slowly poisoned by the emanations from the wool.[26] They were +all the worse, that she worked almost entirely for the poor, who have +cheap stuff to lie upon. + +"She had the courage of a lion, and an angel's resignation, She always +said to me, in her low, faint voice, broken by a dry and frequent cough: +"I have not long to live, breathing, as I do, lime and vitriol all day +long. I spit blood, and have spasms that make me faint.' + +"'Why not change your trade?' have I said to her. + +"`Where will I find the time to make another apprenticeship?' she would +answer; `and it is now too late. I feel that I am done for. It is not +my fault,' added the good creature, `for I did not choose my employment. +My father would have it so; luckily he can do without me. And then, you +see, when one is dead, one cares for nothing, and has no fear of "slop +wages.'" + +"Victorine uttered that sad, common phrase very sincerely, and with a +sort of satisfaction. Therefore she died repeating: `At last!' + +"It is painful to think that the labor by which the poor man earns his +daily bread, often becomes a long suicide! I said this the other day to +Agricola; he answered me that there were many other fatal employments; +those who prepare aquafortis, white lead, or minium, for instance, are +sure to take incurable maladies of which they die. + +"`Do you know,' added Agricola, `what they say when they start for those +fatal works?'--Why, `We are going to the slaughter-house.' + +"That made me tremble with its terrible truth. + +"`And all this takes place in our day,' said I to him, with an aching +heart; `and it is well-known. And, out of so many of the rich and +powerful, no one thinks of the mortality which decimates his brothers, +thus forced to eat homicidal bread!' + +"'What can you expect, my poor sister,' answered Agricola. `When men are +to be incorporated, that they may get killed in war, all pains are taken +with them. But when they are to be organized, so as to live in peace, no +one cares about it, except M. Hardy, my master. People say, 'Pooh! +hunger, misery, and suffering of the laboring classes--what is that to +us? that is not politics.' `They are wrong,' added Agricola; `IT IS MORE +THAN POLITICS.' + +"As Victorine had not left anything to pay for the church service, there +was only the presentation of the body under the porch; for there is not +even a plain mass for the poor. Besides, as they could not give eighteen +francs to the curate, no priest accompanied the pauper's coffin to the +common grave. If funerals, thus abridged and cut short, are sufficient +in a religious point of view, why invent other and longer forms? Is it +from cupidity?--If, on the other hand, they are not sufficient, why make +the poor man the only victim of this insufficiency? But why trouble +ourselves about the pomp, the incense, the chants, of which they are +either too sparing or too liberal? Of what use? and for what purpose? +They are vain, terrestrial things, for which the soul recks nothing, +when, radiant, it ascends towards its Creator. Yesterday, Agricola made +me read an article in a newspaper, in which violent blame and bitter +irony are by turns employed, to attack what they call the baneful +tendencies of some of the lower orders, to improve themselves, to write, +to read the poets, and sometimes to make verses. Material enjoyments are +forbidden us by poverty. Is it humane to reproach us for seeking the +enjoyments of the mind? What harm can it do any one if every evening, +after a day's toil, remote from all pleasure, I amuse myself, unknown to +all, in making a few verses, or in writing in this journal the good or +bad impressions I have received? Is Agricola the worse workman, because, +on returning home to his mother, he employs Sunday in composing some of +those popular songs, which glorify the fruitful labors of the artisan, +and say to all, Hope and brotherhood! Does he not make a more worthy use +of his time than if he spent it in a tavern? Ah! those who blame us for +these innocent and noble diversions, which relieve our painful toils and +sufferings, deceive themselves when they think, that, in proportion as +the intellect is raised and refined, it is more difficult to bear with +privations and misery, and that so the irritation increases against the +luckier few. + +"Admitting even this to be the case--and it is not so--is it not better +to have an intelligent, enlightened enemy, to whose heart and reason you +may address yourself, than a stupid, ferocious, implacable foe? But no; +enmities disappear as the mind becomes enlightened, and the horizon of +compassion extends itself. We thus learn to understand moral +afflictions. We discover that the rich also have to suffer intense +pains, and that brotherhood in misfortune is already a link of sympathy. +Alas! they also have to mourn bitterly for idolized children, beloved +mistresses, reverend mothers; with them, also, especially amongst the +women, there are, in the height of luxury and grandeur, many broken +hearts, many suffering souls, many tears shed in secret. Let them not be +alarmed. By becoming their equals in intelligence, the people will learn +to pity the rich, if good and unhappy--and to pity them still more if +rejoicing in wickedness. + +"What happiness! what a joyful day! I am giddy with delight. Oh, truly, +man is good, humane, charitable. Oh, yes! the Creator has implanted +within him every generous instinct--and, unless he be a monstrous +exception, he never does evil willingly. Here is what I saw just now. I +will not wait for the evening to write it down, for my heart would, as it +were, have time to cool. I had gone to carry home some work that was +wanted in a hurry. I was passing the Place du Temple. A few steps from +me I saw a child, about twelve years old at most, with bare head, and +feet, in spite of the severe weather, dressed in a shabby, ragged smock- +frock and trousers, leading by the bridle a large cart-horse, with his +harness still on. From time to time the horse stopped short, and refused +to advance. The child, who had no whip, tugged in vain at the bridle. +The horse remained motionless. Then the poor little fellow cried out: `O +dear, O dear!' and began to weep bitterly, looking round him as if to +implore the assistance of the passers-by. His dear little face was +impressed with so heart piercing a sorrow, that, without reflecting, I +made an attempt at which I can now only smile, I must have presented so +grotesque a figure. I am horribly afraid of horses, and I am still more +afraid of exposing myself to public gaze. Nevertheless, I took courage, +and, having an umbrella in my hand, I approached the horse, and with the +impetuosity of an ant that strives to move a large stone with a little +piece of straw, I struck with all my strength on the croup of the +rebellious animal. `Oh, thanks, my good lady!' exclaimed the child, +drying his eyes: `hit him again, if you please. Perhaps he will get up.' + +"I began again, heroically; but, alas! either from obstinacy or laziness, +the horse bent his knees, and stretched himself out upon the ground; +then, getting entangled with his harness, he tore it, and broke his great +wooden collar. I had drawn back quickly, for fear of receiving a kick. +Upon this new disaster, the child could only throw himself on his knees +in the middle of the street, clasping his hands and sobbing, and +exclaiming in a voice of despair: 'Help! help!' + +"The call was heard; several of the passers-by gathered round, and a more +efficacious correction than mine was administered to the restive horse, +who rose in a vile state, and without harness. + +"`My master will beat me,' cried the poor child, as his tears redoubled; +`I am already two hours after time, for the horse would not go, and now +he has broken his harness. My master will beat me, and turn me away. Oh +dear! what will become of me! I have no father nor mother.' + +"At these words, uttered with a heart-rending accent, a worthy old +clothes-dealer of the Temple, who was amongst the spectators, exclaimed, +with a kindly air: `No father nor mother! Do not grieve so, my poor +little fellow; the Temple can supply everything. We will mend the +harness, and, if my gossips are like me, you shall not go away bareheaded +or barefooted in such weather as this.' + +"This proposition was greeted with acclamation; they led away both horse +and child; some were occupied in mending the harness, then one supplied a +cap, another a pair of stockings, another some shoes, and another a good +jacket; in a quarter of an hour the child was warmly clad, the harness +repaired, and a tall lad of eighteen, brandishing a whip, which he +cracked close to the horse's ears, by way of warning, said to the little +boy, who, gazing first at his new clothes, and then at the good woman, +believed himself the hero of a fairy-tale. `Where does your governor +live, little 'un?' + +"`On the Quai du Canal-Saint-Martin, sir,' answered he, in a voice +trembling with joy. + +"`Very good,' said the young man, `I will help you take home the horse, +who will go well enough with me, and I will tell the master that the +delay was no fault of your'n. A balky horse ought not to be trusted +to a child of your age.' + +"At the moment of setting out, the poor little fellow said timidly to the +good dame, as he took off his cap to her: `Will you let me kiss you, +ma'am?' + +"His eyes were full of tears of gratitude. There was heart in that +child. This scene of popular charity gave me delightful emotions. +As long as I could, I followed with my eyes the tall young man and the +child, who now could hardly keep up with the pace of the horse, rendered +suddenly docile by fear of the whip. + +"Yes! I repeat it with pride; man is naturally good and helpful. +Nothing could have been more spontaneous than this movement of pity and +tenderness in the crowd, when the poor little fellow exclaimed: `What +will become of me? I have no father or mother!' + +"`Unfortunate child!' said I to myself. `No father nor mother. In the +hands of a brutal master, who hardly covers him with a few rags, and ill- +treats him into the bargain. Sleeping, no doubt in the corner of a +stable. Poor little, fellow! and yet so mild and good, in spite of +misery and misfortune. I saw it--he was even more grateful than pleased +at the service done him. But perhaps this good natural disposition, +abandoned without support or counsel, or help, and exasperated by bad +treatment, may become changed and embittered--and then will come the age +of the passions--the bad temptations--' + +"Oh! in the deserted poor, virtue is doubly saintly and respectable! + +"This morning, after having (as usual) gently reproached me for not going +to mass, Agricola's mother said to me these words, so touching in her +simple and believing mouth, `Luckily, I pray for you and myself too, my +poor girl; the good God will hear me, and you will only go, I hope, to +Purgatory.' + +"Good mother; angelic soul! she spoke those words in so grave and mild a +tone, with so strong a faith in the happy result of her pious +intercession, that I felt my eyes become moist, and I threw myself on her +neck, as sincerely grateful as if I had believed in Purgatory. This day +has been a lucky one for me. I hope I have found work, which luck I +shall owe to a young person full of heart and goodness, she is to take me +to-morrow to St. Mary's Convent, where she thinks she can find me +employment." + +Florine, already much moved by the reading, started at this passage in +which Mother Bunch alluded to her, ere she continued as follows: + +"Never shall I forget with what touching interest, what delicate +benevolence, this handsome young girl received me, so poor, and so +unfortunate. It does not astonish me, for she is attached to the person +of Mdlle. de Cardoville. She must be worthy to reside with Agricola's +benefactress. It will always be dear and pleasant to me to remember her +name. It is graceful and pretty as her face; it is Florine. I am +nothing, I have nothing--but if the fervent prayers of a grateful heart +might be heard, Mdlle. Florine would be happy, very happy. Alas! I am +reduced to say prayers for her--only prayers--for I can do nothing but +remember and love her!" + +These lines, expressing so simply the sincere gratitude of the hunchback, +gave the last blow to Florine's hesitations. She could no longer resist +the generous temptation she felt. As she read these last fragments of +the journal, her affection and respect for Mother Bunch made new +progress. More than ever she felt how infamous it was in her to expose +to sarcasms and contempt the most secret thoughts of this unfortunate +creature. Happily, good is often as contagious as evil. Electrified by +all that was warm, noble, and magnanimous in the pages she had just read, +Florine bathed her failing virtue in that pure and vivifying source, and, +yielding, at last to one of those good impulses which sometimes carried +her away, she left the room with the manuscript in her hand, determined, +if Mother Bunch had not yet returned, to replace it--resolved to tell +Rodin that, this second time, her search for the journal had been vain, +the sempstress having no doubt discovered the first attempt. + +[26] In the Ruche Populaire, a working man's organ, are the following +particulars: + +"Carding Mattresses.--The dust which flies out of the wool makes carding +destructive to health in any case, but trade adulterations enhance the +danger. In sticking sheep, the skin gets blood-spotted; it has to be +bleached to make it salable. Lime is the main whitener, and some of it +clings to the wool after the process. The dresser (female, most often) +breathes in the fine dust, and, by lung and other complaints, is far from +seldom deplorably situated; the majority sicken of it and give up the +trade, while those who keep to it, at the very least, suffer with a +catarrh or asthma that torments them until death. + +"As for horsehair, the very best is not pure. You can judge what the +inferior quality is, from the workgirls calling it vitriol hair, because +it is the refuse or clippings from goats and swine, washed in vitriol, +boiled in dyes, etc., to burn and disguise such foreign bodies as straw. +thorns, splinters, and even bits of skin, not worth picking out. The +dust rising when a mass of this is beaten, makes as many ravages as the +lime-wool." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +A little while before Florine made up her mind to atone for her shameful +breach of confidence, Mother Bunch had returned from the factory, after +accomplishing to the end her painful task. After a long interview with +Angela, struck, like Agricola, with the ingenuous grace, sense, and +goodness, with which the young girl was endowed, Mother Bunch had the +courageous frankness to advise the smith to enter into this marriage. +The following scene took place whilst Florine, still occupied in reading +the journal, had not yet taken the praiseworthy resolution of replacing +it. It was ten o'clock at night. The workgirl, returned to Cardoville +House, had just entered her chamber. Worn out by so many emotions, she +had thrown herself into a chair. The deepest silence reigned in the +house. It was now and then interrupted by the soughing of a high wind, +which raged without and shook the trees in the garden. A single candle +lighted the room, which was papered with dark green. That peculiar tint, +and the hunchback's black dress, increased her apparent paleness. Seated +in an arm-chair by the side of the fire, with her head resting upon her +bosom, her hands crossed upon her knees, the work-girl's countenance was +melancholy and resigned; on it was visible the austere satisfaction which +is felt by the consciousness of a duty well performed. + +Like all those who, brought up in the merciless school of misfortune, no +longer exaggerate the sentiment of sorrow, too familiar and assiduous a +guest to be treated as a stranger, Mother Bunch was incapable of long +yielding to idle regrets and vain despair, with regard to what was +already past. Beyond doubt, the blow had been sudden, dreadful; +doubtless it must leave a long and painful remembrance in the sufferer's +soul; but it was soon to pass, as it were, into that chronic state of +pain-durance, which had become almost an integral part of her life. And +then this noble creature, so indulgent to fate, found still some +consolations in the intensity of her bitter pain. She had been deeply +touched by the marks of affection shown her by Angela, Agricola's +intended: and she had felt a species of pride of the heart, in perceiving +with what blind confidence, with what ineffable joy, the smith accepted +the favorable presentiments which seemed to consecrate his happiness. +Mother Bunch also said to herself: "At least, henceforth I shall not be +agitated by hopes, or rather by suppositions as ridiculous as they were +senseless. Agricola's marriage puts a term to all the miserable reveries +of my poor head." + +Finally, she found a real and deep consolation in the certainty that she +had been able to go through this terrible trial, and conceal from +Agricola the love she felt for him. We know how formidable to this +unfortunate being were those ideas of ridicule and shame, which she +believed would attach to the discovery of her mad passion. After having +remained for some time absorbed in thought, Mother Bunch rose, and +advanced slowly towards the desk. + +"My only recompense," said she, as she prepared the materials for +writing, "will be to entrust the mute witness of my pains with this new +grief. I shall at least have kept the promise that I made to myself. +Believing, from the bottom of my soul, that this girl is able to make +Agricola happy, I told him so with the utmost sincerity. One day, a long +time hence, when I shall read over these pages, I shall perhaps find in +that a compensation for all that I now suffer." + +So saying, she drew the box from the pigeon-hole. Not finding her +manuscript, she uttered a cry of surprise; but, what was her alarm, when +she perceived a letter to her address in the place of the journal! She +became deadly pale; her knees trembled; she almost fainted away. But her +increasing terror gave her a fictitious energy, and she had the strength +to break the seal. A bank-note for five hundred francs fell from the +letter on the table, and Mother Bunch read as follows: + +"Mademoiselle,--There is something so original and amusing in reading in +your memoirs the story of your love for Agricola, that it is impossible +to resist the pleasure of acquainting him with the extent of it, of which +he is doubtless ignorant, but to which he cannot fail to show himself +sensible. Advantage will be taken to forward it to a multitude of other +persons, who might, perhaps, otherwise be unfortunately deprived of the +amusing contents of your diary. Should copies and extracts not be +sufficient, we will have it printed, as one cannot too much diffuse such +things. Some will weep--others will laugh--what appears superb to one +set of people, will seem ridiculous to another, such is life--but your +journal will surely make a great sensation. As you are capable of +wishing to avoid your triumph, and as you were only covered with rags +when you were received, out of charity into this house, where you wish to +figure as the great lady, which does not suit your shape for more reasons +than one, we enclose in the present five hundred francs to pay for your +day-book, and prevent your being without resources, in case you should be +modest enough to shrink from the congratulations which await you, certain +to overwhelm you by to-morrow, for, at this hour, your journal is already +in circulation. + +"One of your brethren, + +"A REAL MOTHER BUNCH." + +The vulgar, mocking, and insolent tone of this letter, which was +purposely written in the character of a jealous lackey, dissatisfied with +the admission of the unfortunate creature into the house, had been +calculated with infernal skill and was sure to produce the effect +intended. + +"Oh, good heaven!" were the only words the unfortunate girl could +pronounce, in her stupor and alarm. + +Now, if we remember in what passionate terms she had expressed her love +for her adopted brother, if we recall many passages of this manuscript, +in which she revealed the painful wounds often inflicted on her by +Agricola without knowing it, and if we consider how great was her terror +of ridicule, we shall understand her mad despair on reading this infamous +letter. Mother Bunch did not think for a moment of all the noble words +and touching narratives contained in her journal. The one horrible idea +which weighed down the troubled spirit of the unfortunate creature, was, +that on the morrow Agricola, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and an insolent and +mocking crowd, would be informed of this ridiculous love, which would, +she imagined, crush her with shame and confusion. This new blow was so +stunning, that the recipient staggered a moment beneath the unexpected +shock. For some minutes, she remained completely inert and helpless; +then, upon reflection, she suddenly felt conscious of a terrible +necessity. + +This hospitable mansion, where she had found a sure refuge after so many +misfortunes, must be left for ever. The trembling timidity and sensitive +delicacy of the poor creature did not permit her to remain a minute more +in this dwelling, where the most secret recesses of her soul had been +laid open, profaned, and exposed no doubt to sarcasm and contempt. She +did not think of demanding justice and revenge from Mdlle. de Cardoville. +To cause a ferment of trouble and irritation in this house, at the moment +of quitting it, would have appeared to her ingratitude towards her +benefactress. She did not seek to discover the author or the motive of +this odious robbery and insulting letter. Why should she, resolved, as +she was, to fly from the humiliations with which she was threatened? She +had a vague notion (as indeed was intended), that this infamy might be +the work of some of the servants, jealous of the affectionate deference +shown her by Mdlle. de Cardoville--and this thought filled her with +despair. Those pages--so painfully confidential, which she would not +have ventured to impart to the most tender and indulgent mother, because, +written as it were with her heart's blood, they painted with too cruel a +fidelity the thousand secret wounds of her soul--those pages were to +serve, perhaps served even now, for the jest and laughing-stock of the +lackeys of the mansion. + +The money which accompanied this letter, and the insulting way in which +it was offered, rather tended to confirm her suspicions. It was intended +that the fear of misery should not be the obstacle of her leaving the +house. The workgirl's resolution was soon taken, with that calm and firm +resignation which was familiar to her. She rose, with somewhat bright +and haggard eyes, but without a tear in them. Since the day before, she +had wept too much. With a trembling, icy hand, she wrote these words on +a paper, which she left by the side of the bank-note: May Mdlle. de +Cardoville be blessed for all that she has done for me, and forgive me +for having left her house, where I can remain no longer." + +Having written this, Mother Bunch threw into the fire the infamous +letter, which seemed to burn her hands. Then, taking a last look at her +chamber, furnished so comfortably, she shuddered involuntarily as she +thought of the misery that awaited her--a misery more frightful than that +of which she had already been the victim, for Agricola's mother had +departed with Gabriel, and the unfortunate girl could no longer, as +formerly, be consoled in her distress by the almost maternal affection of +Dagobert's wife. To live alone--quite alone--with the thought that her +fatal passion for Agricola was laughed at by everybody, perhaps even by +himself--such were the future prospects of the hunchback. This future +terrified her--a dark desire crossed her mind--she shuddered, and an +expression of bitter joy contracted her features. Resolved to go, she +made some steps towards the door, when, in passing before the fireplace, +she saw her own image in the glass, pale as death, and clothed in black; +then it struck her that she wore a dress which did not belong to her, and +she remembered a passage in the letter, which alluded to the rags she had +on before she entered that house. "True!" said she, with a heart- +breaking smile, as she looked at her black garments; "they would call me +a thief." + +And, taking her candle, she entered the little dressing room, and put on +again the poor, old clothes, which she had preserved as a sort of pious +remembrance of her misfortunes. Only at this instant did her tears flow +abundantly. She wept--not in sorrow at resuming the garb of misery, but +in gratitude; for all the comforts around her, to which she was about to +bid an eternal adieu, recalled to her mind at every step the delicacy and +goodness of Mdlle. de Cardoville: therefore, yielding to an almost +involuntary impulse, after she had put on her poor, old clothes, she fell +on her knees in the middle of the room, and, addressing herself in +thought to Mdlle. de Cardoville, she exclaimed, in a voice broken by +convulsive sobs: " Adieu! oh, for ever, adieu!--You, that deigned to call +me friend--and sister!" + +Suddenly, she rose in alarm; she heard steps in the corridor, which led +from the garden to one of the doors of her apartment, the other door +opening into the parlor. It was Florine, who (alas! too late) was +bringing back the manuscript. Alarmed at this noise of footsteps, and +believing herself already the laughing-stock of the house. Mother Bunch +rushed from the room, hastened across the parlor, gained the court-yard, +and knocked at the window of the porter's lodge. The house-door opened, +and immediately closed upon her. And so the workgirl left Cardoville +House. + +Adrienne was thus deprived of a devoted, faithful, and vigilant guardian. +Rodin was delivered from an active and sagacious antagonist, whom he had +always, with good reason, feared. Having, as we have seen, guessed +Mother Bunch's love for Agricola, and knowing her to be a poet, the +Jesuit supposed, logically enough that she must have written secretly +some verses inspired by this fatal and concealed passion. Hence the +order given to Florine, to try and discover some written evidence of this +love; hence this letter, so horribly effective in its coarse ribaldry, of +which, it must be observed, Florine did not know the contents, having +received it after communicating a summary of the contents of the +manuscript, which, the first time, she had only glanced through without +taking it away. We have said, that Florine, yielding too late to a +generous repentance, had reached Mother Bunch's apartment, just as the +latter quitted the house in consternation. + +Perceiving a light in the dressing-room, the waiting-maid hastened +thither. She saw upon a chair the black dress that Mother Bunch had just +taken off, and, a few steps further, the shabby little trunk, open and +empty, in which she had hitherto preserved her poor garments. Florine's +heart sank within her; she ran to the secretary; the disorder of the +card-board boxes, the note for five hundred francs left by the side of +the two lines written to Mdlle. de Cardoville, all proved that her +obedience to Rodin's orders had borne fatal fruit, and that Mother Bunch +had quitted the house for ever. Finding the uselessness of her tardy +resolution, Florine resigned herself with a sigh to the necessity of +delivering the manuscript to Rodin. Then, forced by the fatality of her +miserable position to console herself for evil by evil, she considered +that the hunchback's departure would at least make her treachery less +dangerous. + +Two days after these events, Adrienne received the following note from +Rodin, in answer to a letter she had written him, to inform him of the +work-girl's inexplicable departure: + +"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY;--Obliged to set out this morning for the +factory of the excellent M. Hardy, whither I am called by an affair of +importance, it is impossible for me to pay you my humble respects. +You ask me what I think of the disappearance of this poor girl? I +really do not know. The future will, I doubt not, explain all to her +advantage. Only, remember what I told you at Dr. Baleinier's, with +regard to a certain society and its secret emissaries, with whom it has +the art of surrounding those it wishes to keep a watch on. I accuse no +one; but let us only recall facts. This poor girl accused me; and I am, +as you know, the most faithful of your servants. She possessed nothing; +and yet five hundred francs were found in her secretary. You +loaded her with favors; and she leaves your house without even explaining +the cause of this extraordinary flight. I draw no conclusion, my dear +young lady; I am always unwilling to condemn without evidence; but +reflect upon all this, and be on your guard, for you have perhaps escaped +a great danger. Be more circumspect and suspicious than ever; such at +least is the respectful advice of your most obedient, humble servant, + +"Rodin." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +THE TRYSTING-PLACE OF THE WOLVES. + +It was a Sunday morning the very day on which Mdlle. de Cardoville had +received Rodin's letter with regard to Mother Bunch's disappearance. Two +men were talking to together, seated at a table in one of the public +houses in the little village of Villiers, situated at no great distance +from Hardy's factory. The village was for the most part inhabited by +quarrymen and stonecutters, employed in working the neighboring quarries. +Nothing can be ruder and more laborious, and at the same time less +adequately paid, than the work of this class of people. Therefore, as +Agricola had told Mother Bunch, they drew painful comparisons between +their condition, almost always miserable, and the comfort and comparative +ease enjoyed by M. Hardy's workmen, thanks to his generous and +intelligent management, and to the principles of association and +community which he had put in practice amongst them. Misery and +ignorance are always the cause of great evils. Misery is easily excited +to anger, and ignorance soon yields to perfidious counsels. For a long +time, the happiness of M. Hardy's workmen had been naturally envied, but +not with a jealousy amounting to hatred. As soon, however, as the secret +enemies of the manufacturer, uniting with his rival Baron Tripeaud, had +an interest in changing this peaceful state of things--it changed +accordingly. + +With diabolical skill and perseverance they succeeded in kindling the +most evil passions. By means of chosen emissaries, they applied to those +quarrymen and stonecutters of the neighborhood, whose bad conduct had +aggravated their misery. Notorious for their turbulence, audacity, and +energy, these men might exercise a dangerous influence on the majority of +their companions, who were peaceful, laborious, and honest, but easily +intimidated by violence. These turbulent leaders, previously embittered +by misfortune, were soon impressed with an exaggerated idea of the +happiness of M. Hardy's workmen, and excited to a jealous hatred of them. +They went still further; the incendiary sermons of an abbe, a member of +the Jesuits, who had come expressly from Paris to preach during Lent +against M. Hardy, acted powerfully on the minds of the women, who filled +the church, whilst their husbands were haunting the taverns. Profiting +by the growing fear, which the approach of the Cholera then inspired, the +preacher struck with terror these weak and credulous imaginations by +pointing to M. Hardy's factory as a centre of corruption and damnation, +capable of drawing down the vengeance of Heaven, and bringing the fatal +scourge upon the country. Thus the men, already inflamed with envy, were +still more excited by the incessant urgency of their wives, who, maddened +by the abbe's sermons, poured their curses on that band of atheists, who +might bring down so many misfortunes upon them and their children. Some +bad characters, belonging to the factory of Baron Tripeaud, and paid by +him (for it was a great interest the honorable manufacturer had in the +ruin of M. Hardy), came to augment the general irritation, and to +complete it by raising one of those alarming union-questions, which in +our day have unfortunately caused so much bloodshed. Many of M. Hardy's +workmen, before they entered his employ, had belonged to a society or +union, called the Devourers; while many of the stonecutters in the +neighboring quarries belonged to a society called the Wolves. Now, for a +long time, an implacable rivalry had existed between the Wolves and +Devourers, and brought about many sanguinary struggles, which are the +more to be deplored, as, in some respects, the idea of these unions is +excellent, being founded on the fruitful and mighty principle of +association. But unfortunately, instead of embracing all trades in one +fraternal communion, these unions break up the working-class into +distinct and hostile societies, whose rivalry often leads to bloody +collisions.[27] For the last week, the Wolves, excited by so many +different importunities, burned to discover an occasion or a pretext to +come to blows with the Devourers; but the latter, not frequenting the +public-houses, and hardly leaving the factory during the week, had +hitherto rendered such a meeting impossible, and the Wolves had been +forced to wait for the Sunday with ferocious impatience. + +Moreover, a great number of the quarrymen and stonecutters, being +peaceable and hard-working people, had refused, though Wolves themselves +to join this hostile manifestation against the Devourers of M. Hardy's +factory; the leaders had been obliged to recruit their forces from the +vagabonds and idlers of the barriers, whom the attraction of tumult and +disorder had easily enlisted under the flag of the warlike Wolves. Such +then was the dull fermentation, which agitated the little village of +Villiers, whilst the two men of whom we have spoken were at table in the +public-house. + +These men had asked for a private room, that they might be alone. One of +them was still young, and pretty well dressed. But the disorder in his +clothes, his loose cravat, his shirt spotted with wine, his dishevelled +hair, his look of fatigue, his marble complexion, his bloodshot eyes, +announced that a night of debauch had preceded this morning; whilst his +abrupt and heavy gesture, his hoarse voice, his look, sometimes +brilliant, and sometimes stupid, proved that to the last fumes of the +intoxication of the night before, were joined the first attacks of a new +state of drunkenness. The companion of this man said to him, as he +touched his glass with his own: "Your health, my boy!" + +"Yours!" answered the young man; "though you look to me like the devil." + +"I!--the devil?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +"How did you come to know me?" + +"Do you repent that you ever knew me?" + +"Who told you that I was a prisoner at Sainte-Pelagie?" + +"Didn't I take you out of prison?" + +"Why did you take me out?" + +"Because I have a good heart." + +"You are very fond of me, perhaps--just as the butcher likes the ox that +he drives to the slaughter-house." + +"Are you mad?" + +"A man does not pay a hundred thousand francs for another without a +motive." + +"I have a motive." + +"What is it? what do you want to do with me?" + +"A jolly companion that will spend his money like a man, and pass every +night like the last. Good wine, good cheer, pretty girls, and gay songs. +Is that such a bad trade?" + +After he had remained a moment without answering, the young man replied +with a gloomy air: "Why, on the eve of my leaving prison, did you attach +this condition to my freedom, that I should write to my mistress to tell +her that I would never see her again! Why did you exact this letter from +me?" + +"A sigh! what, are you still thinking of her?" + +"Always." + +"You are wrong. Your mistress is far from Paris by this time. I saw her +get into the stage-coach, before I came to take you out of Sainte- +Pelagie." + +"Yes, I was stifled in that prison. To get out, I would have given my +soul to the devil. You thought so, and therefore you came to me; only, +instead of my soul, you took Cephyse from me. Poor Bacchanal-Queen! And +why did you do it? Thousand thunders! Will you tell me!" + +"A man as much attached to his mistress as you are is no longer a man. +He wants energy, when the occasion requires." + +"What occasion?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"You make me drink too much brandy." + +"Bah! look at me!" + +"That's what frightens me. It seems something devilish. A bottle of +brandy does not even make you wink. You must have a stomach of iron and +a head of marble." + +"I have long travelled in Russia. There we drink to roast ourselves." + +"And here to only warm. So--let's drink--but wine." + +"Nonsense! wine is fit for children. Brandy for men like us!" + +"Well, then, brandy; but it burns, and sets the head on fire, and then we +see all the flames of hell!" + +"That's how I like to see you, hang it!" + +"But when you told me that I was too much attached to my mistress, and +that I should want energy when the occasion required, of what occasion +did you speak?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"Stop a moment, comrade. I am no more of a fool than others. Your half- +words have taught me something. + +"Well, what?" + +"You know that I have been a workman, that I have many companions, and +that, being a good fellow, I am much liked amongst them. You want me for +a catspaw, to catch other chestnuts?" + +"What then?" + +"You must be some getter-up of riots--some speculator in revolts." + +"What next?" + +"You are travelling for some anonymous society, that trades in musket- +shots." + +"Are you a coward?" + +"I burned powder in July, I can tell you--make no mistakes!" + +"You would not mind burning some again?" + +"Just as well that sort of fireworks as any other. Only I find +revolutions more agreeable than useful; all that I got from the +barricades of the three days was burnt breeches and a lost jacket. All +the cause won by me, with its 'Forward! March!' says." + +"You know many of Hardy's workmen?" + +"Oh! that's why you have brought me down here?" + +"Yes--you will meet with many of the workmen from the factory." + +"Men from Hardy's take part in a row? No, no; they are too well off for +that. You have been sold." + +"You will see presently." + +"I tell you they are well off. What have they to complain of?" + +"What of their brethren--those who have not so good a master, and die of +hunger and misery, and call on them for assistance? Do you think they +will remain deaf to such a summons? Hardy is only an exception. Let the +people but give a good pull all together, and the exception will become +the rule, and all the world be happy." + +"What you say there is true, but it would be a devil of a pull that would +make an honest man out of my old master, Baron Tripeaud, who made me what +I am--an out-and-out rip." + +"Hardy's workmen are coming; you are their comrade, and have no interest +in deceiving them. They will believe you. Join with me in persuading +them--" + +"To what?" + +"To leave this factory, in which they grow effeminate and selfish, and +forget their brothers." + +"But if they leave the factory, how are they to live?" + +"We will provide for that--on the great day." + +"And what's to be done till then?" + +"What you have done last night--drink, laugh, sing, and, by way of work, +exercise themselves privately in the use of arms.' + +"Who will bring these workmen here?" + +"Some one has already spoken to them. They have had printed papers, +reproaching them with indifference to their brothers. Come, will you +support me?" + +"I'll support you--the more readily as I cannot very well support myself. +I only cared for Cephyse in the world; I know that I am on a bad road; +you are pushing me on further; let the ball roll!--Whether we go to the +devil one way or the other is not of much consequence. Let's drink." + +"Drink to our next night's fun; the last was only apprenticeship." + +"Of what then are you made? I looked at you, and never saw you either +blush or smile, or change countenance. You are like a man of iron." + +"I am not a lad of fifteen. It would take something more to make me +laugh. I shall laugh to-night." + +"I don't know if it's the brandy; but, devil take me, if you don't +frighten me when you say you shall laugh tonight!" + +So saying, the young man rose, staggering; he began to be once more +intoxicated. + +There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" The host made his appearance. + +"What's the matter?" + +"There's a young man below, who calls himself Olivier. He asks for M. +Morok." + +"That's right. Let him came up." The host went out. + +"It is one of our men, but he is alone," said Morok, whose savage +countenance expressed disappointment. "It astonishes me, for I expected +a good number. Do you know him?" + +"Olivier? Yes--a fair chap, I think." + +"We shall see him directly. Here he is." A young man, with an open, +bold, intelligent countenance, at this moment entered the room. + +"What! old Sleepinbuff!" he exclaimed, at sight of Morok's companion. + +"Myself. I have not seen you for an age, Olivier." + +"Simple enough, my boy. We do not work at the same place." + +"But you are alone!" cried Morok; and pointing to Sleepinbuff, he added: +"You may speak before him--he is one of us. But why are you alone?" + +"I come alone, but in the name of my comrades." + +"Oh!" said Morok, with a sigh of satisfaction, "they consent." + +"They refuse--just as I do!" + +"What, the devil! they refuse? Have they no more courage than women?" +cried Morok, grinding his teeth with rage. + +"Hark ye," answered Olivier, coolly. "We have received your letters, and +seen your agent. We have had proof that he is really connected with +great societies, many members of which are known to us." + +"Well! why do you hesitate?" + +"First of all, nothing proves that these societies are ready to make a +movement." + +"I tell you they are." + +"He--tells you--they are," said Sleepinbuff, stammering "and I (hic!) +affirm it. Forward! March!" + +"That's not enough," replied Olivier. "Besides, we have reflected upon +it. For a week the factory was divided. Even yesterday the discussion +was too warm to be pleasant. But this morning Father Simon called to +him; we explained ourselves fully before him, and he brought us all to +one mind. We mean to wait, and if any disturbance breaks out, we shall +see." + +"Is that your final word?" + +"It is our last word." + +"Silence!" cried Sleepinbuff, suddenly, as he listened, balancing himself +on his tottering legs. "It is like the noise of a crowd not far off." A +dull sound was indeed audible, which became every moment more and more +distinct, and at length grew formidable. + +"What is that?" said Olivier, in surprise. + +"Now," replied Morok, smiling with a sinister air, "I remember the host +told me there was a great ferment in the village against the factory. If +you and your other comrades had separated from Hardy's other workmen, as +I hoped, these people who are beginning to howl would have been for you, +instead of against you." + +"This was a trap, then, to set one half of M. Hardy's workmen against the +other!" cried Olivier; "you hoped that we should make common cause with +these people against the factory, and that--" + +The young man had not time to finish. A terrible outburst of shouts, +howls, and hisses shook the tavern. At the same instant the door was +abruptly opened, and the host, pale and trembling, hurried into the +chamber, exclaiming: "Gentlemen! do any of you work at M. Hardy's +factory?" + +"I do," said Olivier. + +"Then you are lost. Here are the Wolves in a body, saying there are +Devourers here from M. Hardy's, and offering them battle--unless the +Devourers will give up the factory, and range themselves on their side." + +"It was a trap, there can be no doubt of it!" cried Olivier, looking at +Morok and Sleepinbuff, with a threatening air; "if my mates had come, we +were all to be let in." + +"I lay a trap, Olivier?" stammered Jacques Rennepont. "Never!" + +"Battle to the Devourers! or let them join the Wolves!" cried the angry +crowd with one voice, as they appeared to invade the house. + +"Come!" exclaimed the host. Without giving Olivier time to answer, he +seized him by the arm, and opening a window which led to a roof at no +very great height from the ground, he said to him: "Make your escape by +this window, let yourself slide down, and gain the fields; it is time." + +As the young workman hesitated, the host added, with a look of terror: + +"Alone, against a couple of hundred, what can you do? A minute more, and +you are lost. Do you not hear them? They have entered the yard; they +are coming up." + +Indeed, at this moment, the groans, the hisses, and cheers redoubled in +violence; the wooden staircase which led to the first story shook beneath +the quick steps of many persons, and the shout arose, loud and piercing: +"Battle to the Devourers!" + +"Fly, Olivier!" cried Sleepinbuff, almost sobered by the danger. + +Hardly had he pronounced the words when the door of the large room, which +communicated with the small one in which they were, was burst open with a +frightful crash. + +"Here they are!" cried the host, clasping his hands in alarm. Then, +running to Olivier, he pushed him, as it were, out of the window; for, +with one foot on the sill, the workman still hesitated. + +The window once closed, the publican returned towards Morok the instant +the latter entered the large room, into which the leaders of the Wolves +had just forced an entry, whilst their companions were vociferating in +the yard and on the staircase. Eight or ten of these madmen, urged by +others to take part in these scenes of disorder, had rushed first into +the room, with countenances inflamed by wine and anger; most of them were +armed with long sticks. A blaster, of Herculean strength and stature, +with an old red handkerchief about his head, its ragged ends streaming +over his shoulders, miserably dressed in a half-worn goat-skin, +brandished an iron drilling-rod, and appeared to direct the movements. +With bloodshot eyes, threatening and ferocious countenance, he advanced +towards the small room, as if to drive back Morok, and exclaimed, in a +voice of thunder: + +"Where are the Devourers?--the Wolves will eat 'em up!" + +The host hastened to open the door of the small room, saying: "There is +no one here, my friends--no one. Look for yourselves." + +"It is true," said the quarryman, surprised, after peeping into the room; +"where are they, then? We were told there were a dozen of them here. +They should have marched with us against the factory, or there'd 'a been +a battle, and the Wolves would have tried their teeth!" + +"If they have not come," said another, "they will come. Let's wait." + +"Yes, yes; we will wait for them." + +"We will look close at each other." + +"If the Wolves want to see the Devourers," said Morok, "why not go and +howl round the factory of the miscreant atheists? At the first howl of +the Wolves they will come out, and give you battle." + +"They will give you--battle," repeated Sleepinbuff, mechanically. + +"Unless the Wolves are afraid of the Devourers," added Morok. + +"Since you talk of fear, you shall go with us, and see who's afraid!" +cried the formidable blaster, and in a thundering voice, he advanced +towards Morok. + +A number of voices joined in with, "Who says the Wolves are afraid of the +Devourers?" + +"It would be the first time!" + +"Battle! battle! and make an end of it!" + +"We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so +well off?" + +"They have said that quarrymen are brutes, only fit to torn wheels in a +shaft, like dogs to turn spits," cried an emissary of Baron Tripeaud's. + +"And that the Devourers would make themselves caps with wolf-skin," added +another. + +"Neither they nor their wives ever go to mass. They are pagans and +dogs!" cried an emissary of the preaching abbe. + +"The men might keep their Sunday as they pleased; but their wives not to +go to mass!--it is abominable. + +"And, therefore, the curate has said that their factory, because of its +abominations, might bring down the cholera to the country." + +"True? he said that in his sermon." + +"Our wives heard it." + +"Yes, yes; down with the Devourers, who want to bring the cholera on the +country!" + +"Hooray, for a fight!" cried the crowd in chorus. + +"To the factory, my brave Wolves!" cried Morok, with the voice of a +Stentor; "on to the factory!" + +"Yes! to the factory! to the factory!" repeated the crowd, with furious +stamping; for, little by little, all who could force their way into the +room, or up the stairs, had there collected together. + +These furious cries recalling Jacques for a moment to his senses, he +whispered to Morok: "It is slaughter you would provoke? I wash my hands +of it." + +"We shall have time to let them know at the factory. We can give these +fellows the slip on the road," answered Morok. Then he cried aloud, +addressing the host, who was terrified at this disorder: "Brandy!--let us +drink to the health of the brave Wolves! I will stand treat." He threw +some money to the host, who disappeared, and soon returned with several +bottles of brandy, and some glasses. + +"What! glasses?" cried Morok. "Do jolly companions, like we are, drink +out of glasses?" So saying, he forced out one of the corks, raised the +neck of the bottle to his lips, and, having drunk a deep draught, passed +it to the gigantic quarryman. + +That's the thing!" said the latter. "Here's in honor of the treat!--None +but a sneak will refuse, for this stuff will sharpen the Wolves' teeth!" + +"Here's to your health, mates!" said Morok, distributing the bottles. + +"There will be blood at the end of all this," muttered Sleepinbuff, who, +in spite of his intoxication, perceived all the danger of these fatal +incitements. Indeed, a large portion of the crowd was already quitting +the yard of the public-house, and advancing rapidly towards M. Hardy's +factory. + +Those of the workmen and inhabitants of the village, who had not chosen +to take any part in this movement of hostility (they were the majority), +did not make their appearance, as this threatening troop passed along the +principal street; but a good number of women, excited to fanaticism by +the sermons of the abbe, encouraged the warlike assemblage with their +cries. At the head of the troop advanced the gigantic blaster, +brandishing his formidable bar, followed by a motley mass, armed with +sticks and stones. Their heads still warmed by their recent libations of +brandy, they had now attained a frightful state of frenzy. Their +countenances were ferocious, inflamed, terrible. This unchaining of the +worst passions seemed to forbode the most deplorable consequences. +Holding each other arm-in-arm, and walking four or five together, the +Wolves gave vent to their excitement in war-songs, which closed with the +following verse: + +"Forward! full of assurance! +Let us try our vigorous arms! +They have wearied out our prudence; +Let us show we've no alarms. +Sprung from a monarch glorious,[28] +To-day we'll not grow pale, +Whether we win the fight, or fail, +Whether we die, or are victorious! +Children of Solomon, mighty king, +All your efforts together bring, +Till in triumph we shall sing!" + +Morok and Jacques had disappeared whilst the tumultuous troop were +leaving the tavern to hasten to the factory. + +[27] Let it be noted, to the working-man's credit, that such outrageous +scenes become more and more rare as he is enlightened to the full +consciousness of his worth. Such better tendencies are to be attributed +to the just influence of an excellent tract on trades' union written by +M. Agricole Perdignier, and published in 1841, Paris. This author, a +joiner, founded at his own expense an establishment in the Faubourg St. +Antoine, where some forty or fifty of his trade lodged, and were given, +after the day's work, a course of geometry, etc., applied to wood- +carving. We went to one of the lectures, and found as much clearness in +the professor as attention and intelligence in the audience. At ten, +after reading selections, all the lodgers retire, forced by their scanty +wages to sleep, perhaps, four in a room. M. Perdignier informed us that +study and instruction were such powerful ameliorators, that, during six +years, he had only one of his lodgers to expel. "In a few days, he +remarked, "the bad eggs find out this is no place for them to addle sound +ones!" We are happy to here reader public homage to a learned and +upright man, devoted to his fellow-workmen. + +[28] The Wolves (among others) ascribe the institution of their company +to King Solomon. See the curious work by M. Agricole Perdignier, from +which the war-song is extracted. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE + +Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack on the +Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air, +perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind was +from the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock had +just struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separated +from the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sun +bathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league from +Paris, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible the +woody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city. +Nothing could be plainer, and yet more cheerful than the aspect of the +Common Dwelling-house of the workmen. Its slanting roof of red tiles +projected over white walls, divided here and there by broad rows of +bricks, which contrasted agreeably with the green color of the blinds on +the first and second stories. + +These buildings, open to the south and east, were surrounded by a large +garden of about ten acres, partly planted with trees, and partly laid out +in fruit and kitchen-garden. Before continuing this description, which +perhaps will appear a little like a fairy-tale, let us begin by saying, +that the wonders, of which we are about to present the sketch, must not +to be considered Utopian dreams; nothing, on the contrary, could be of a +more positive character, and we are able to assert, and even to prove +(what in our time is of great weight and interest), that these wonders +were the result of an excellent speculation, and represented an +investment as lucrative as it was secure. To undertake a vast, noble, +and most useful enterprise; to bestow on a considerable number of human +creatures an ideal prosperity, compared with the frightful, almost +homicidal doom, to which they are generally condemned; to instruct them, +and elevate them in their own esteem; to make them prefer to the coarse +pleasures of the tavern, or rather to the fatal oblivion which they find +there, as an escape from the consciousness of their deplorable destiny, +the pleasures, of the intellect and the enjoyments of art; in a word, to +make men moral by making them happy, and finally, thanks to this generous +example, so easy of imitation, to take a place amongst the benefactors of +humanity--and yet, at the same time to do, as it were, without knowing +it, an excellent stroke of business--may appear fabulous. And yet this +was the secret of the wonders of which we speak. + +Let us enter the interior of the factory. Ignorant of Mother Bunch's +cruel disappearance, Agricola gave himself up to the most happy, thoughts +as he recalled Angela's image, and, having finished dressing with unusual +care, went in search of his betrothed. + +Let us say two words on the subject of the lodging, which the smith +occupied in the Common Dwelling-house, at the incredibly low rate of +seventy-five francs per annum like the other bachelors on the +establishment. This lodging, situated on the second story, was comprised +of a capital chamber and bedroom, with a southern aspect, and looking on +the garden; the pine floor was perfectly white and clean; the iron +bedstead was supplied with a good mattress and warm coverings; a gas- +burner and a warm-air pipe were also introduced into the rooms, to +furnish light and heat as required; the walls were hung with pretty fancy +papering, and had curtains to match; a chest of drawers, a walnut table, +a few chairs, a small library, comprised Agricola's furniture. Finally, +in the large and light closet, was a place for his clothes, a dressing- +table, and large zinc basin, with an ample supply of water. If we +compare this agreeable, salubrious, comfortable lodging, with the dark, +icy, dilapidated garret, for which the worthy fellow paid ninety francs +at his mother's, and to get to which he had more than a league and a half +to go every evening, we shall understand the sacrifice he made to his +affection for that excellent woman. + +Agricola, after casting a last glance of tolerable satisfaction at his +looking-glass, while he combed his moustache and imperial, quitted his +chamber, to go and join Angela in the women's workroom. The corridor, +along which he had to pass, was broad, well-lighted from above, floored +with pine, and extremely clean. Notwithstanding some seeds of discord +which had been lately sown by M. Hardy's enemies amongst his workmen, +until now so fraternally united, joyous songs were heard in almost all +the apartments which skirted the corridor, and, as Agricola passed before +several open doors, he exchanged a cordial good-morrow with many of his +comrades. The smith hastily descended the stairs, crossed the court- +yard, in which was a grass-plot planted with trees, with a fountain in +the centre, and gained the other wing of the building. There was the +workroom, in which a portion of the wives and daughters of the associated +artisans, who happened not to be employed in the factory, occupied +themselves in making up the linen. This labor, joined to the enormous +saving effected by the purchase of the materials wholesale, reduced to an +incredible extent the price of each article. After passing through this +workroom, a vast apartment looking on the garden, well-aired in +summer,[29] and well-warmed in winter, Agricola knocked at the door of +the rooms occupied by Angela's mother. + +If we say a few words with regard to this lodging, situated on the first +story, with an eastern aspect, and also looking on the garden, it is that +we may tape it as a specimen of the habitation of a family in this +association, supplied at the incredibly small price of one hundred and +twenty-five francs per annum. + +A small entrance, opening on the corridor, led to a large room, on each +side of which was a smaller chamber, destined for the family, when the +boys and girls were too big to continue to sleep in the two dormitories, +arranged after the fashion of a large school, and reserved for the +children of both sexes. Every night the superintendence of these +dormitories was entrusted to a father and mother of a family, belonging +to the association. The lodging of which we speak, being, like all the +others, disencumbered of the paraphernalia of a kitchen--for the cooking +was done in common, and on a large scale, in another part of the +building--was kept extremely clean. A pretty large piece of carpet, a +comfortable arm-chair, some pretty-looking china on a stand of well- +polished wood, some prints hung against the walls, a clock of gilt +bronze, a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mahogany secretary, announced +that the inhabitants of this apartment enjoyed not only the necessaries, +but some of the luxuries of life. Angela, who, from this time, might be +called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering +portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor +Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed +with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her +mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him. + +"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if your +mother has no objection." + +"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girl +cordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with her +father, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasure with +you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, should do +the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting for you +an hour, and with such impatience!" + +"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking of the +pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse." + +"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, and +becoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?" + +"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Go +with M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, what +all the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what a +pity that your good little adopted sister is not with us." + +"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only a +pleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be the +last." + +Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they went +out together. + +"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I was +surprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see so +much misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I too +have had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. It +is really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask my +mother the explanation of these wonders, she tells me, `M. Agricola will +explain it all to you.'" + +"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task, +mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender. +"Nothing could be more in season." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all the +resources of our association, is to be able to say to you: `Here, the +workman, sure of the present, sure of the future, is not, like so many of +his poor brothers, obliged to renounce the sweetest want of the heart-- +the desire of choosing a companion for life--in the fear of uniting +misery to misery."' + +Angela cast down her eyes, and blushed. + +"Here the workman may safely yield to the hope of knowing the sweet joys +of a family, sure of not having his heart torn hereafter by the sight of +the horrible privations of those who are dear to him; here, thanks to +order and industry, and the wise employment of the strength of all, men, +women, and children live happy and contented. In a ward, to explain all +this to you, mademoiselle," added Agricola, smiling with a still more +tender air, "is to prove, that here we can do nothing more reasonable +than love, nothing wiser than marry." + +"M. Agricola," answered Angela, in a slightly agitated voice, and +blushing still more as she spoke, "suppose we were to begin our walk." + +"Directly, mademoiselle," replied the smith, pleased at the trouble he +had excited in that ingenuous soul. "But, come; we are near the +dormitory of the little girls. The chirping birds have long left their +nests. Let us go there." + +"Willingly, M. Agricola." + +The young smith and Angela soon entered a spacious dormitory, resembling +that of a first-rate boarding school. The little iron bedsteads were +arranged in symmetrical order; at each end were the beds of the two +mothers of families, who took the superintendence by turns. + +"Dear me! how well it is arranged, M. Agricola, and how neat and clean! +Who is it that takes such good care of it?" + +"The children themselves; we have no servants here. There is an +extraordinary emulation between these urchins--as to who shall make her +bed most neatly, and it amuses them quite as much as making a bed for +their dolls. Little girls, you know, delight in playing at keeping +house. Well, here they play at it in good earnest, and the house is +admirably kept in consequence." + +"Oh! I understand. They turn to account their natural taste for all such +kinds of amusement." + +"That is the whole secret. You will see them everywhere usefully +occupied, and delighted at the importance of the employments given them." + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, timidly, "only compare these fine +dormitories, so warm and healthy, with the horrible icy garrets, where +children are heaped pell-mell on a wretched straw-mattress, shivering +with cold, as in the case with almost all the workmen's families in our +country!" + +"And in Paris, mademoiselle, it is even worse." + +"Oh! how kind, generous, and rich must M. Hardy be, to spend so much +money in doing good!" + +"I am going to astonish you, mademoiselle!" said Agricola, with a smile; +"to astonish you so much, that perhaps you will not believe me." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"There is not certainly in the world a man with a better and more +generous heart than M. Hardy; he does good for its own sake and without +thinking of his personal interest. And yet, Mdlle. Angela, were he the +most selfish and avaricious of men, he would still find it greatly to his +advantage to put us in a position to be as comfortable as we are." + +"Is it possible, M. Agricola? You tell me so, and I believe it; but if +good can so easily be done, if there is even an advantage in doing it, +why is it not more commonly attempted?" + +"Ah! mademoiselle, it requires three gifts very rarely met with in the +same person--knowledge, power and will." + +"Alas! yes. Those who have the knowledge, have not the power." + +"And those who have the power, have neither the knowledge nor the will." + +"But how does M. Hardy find any advantage in the good he does for you?" + +"I will explain that presently, mademoiselle." + +"Oh, what a nice, sweet smell of fruit!" said Angela, suddenly. + +"Our common fruit-store is close at hand. I wager we shall find there +some of the little birds from the dormitory--not occupied in picking and +stealing, but hard at work." + +Opening a door, Agricola led Angela into a large room, furnished with +shelves, on which the winter fruits were arranged in order. A number of +children, from seven to eight years old, neatly and warmly clad, and +glowing with health, exerted themselves cheerfully, under the +superintendence of a woman, in separating and sorting the spoiled fruit. + +"You see," said Agricola, "wherever it is possible, we make use of the +children. These occupations are amusements for them, answering to the +need of movement and activity natural to their age; and, in this way, we +can employ the grown girls and the women to much better advantage." + +"True, M. Agricola; how well it is all arranged." + +"And if you saw what services the urchins in the kitchen render! +Directed by one or two women, they do the work of eight or ten servants." + +"In fact," said Angela, smiling, "at their age, we like so much to play +at cooking dinner. They must be delighted." + +"And, in the same way, under pretext of playing at gardening, they weed +the ground, gather the fruit and vegetables, water the flowers, roll the +paths, and so on. In a word, this army of infant-workers, who generally +remain till ten or twelve years of age without being of any service, are +here very useful. Except three hours of school, which is quite +sufficient for them, from the age of six or seven their recreations are +turned to good account, and the dear little creatures, by the saving of +full-grown arms which they effect, actually gain more than they cost; and +then, mademoiselle, do you not think there is something in the presence +of childhood thus mixed up with every labor--something mild, pure, almost +sacred, which has its influence on our words and actions, and imposes a +salutary reserve? The coarsest man will respect the presence of +children." + +"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is really +designed for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration. + +"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquer +prejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here we +are at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing as +that of a barrack or a public school?" + +Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house was immense. +All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to the marvellous and +economical inventions of modern science (which are always beyond the +reach of the poorer classes, to whom they are most necessary, because +they can only be practised on a large scale), not only the fire on the +hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity of fuel that +would have been consumed by each family individually, but the excess of +the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes, to spread a +mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. And here also +children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerous services. +Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in which they +performed their culinary functions; it was the same with the assistance +they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary saving in the +price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellent household +bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable to that whiter +bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to some deleterious +substance. + +"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, who +was gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthy of +Gamache's Wedding so heavily were they laden with pieces of beef, mutton, +and veal, which began to assume a fine golden brown color of the most +attractive kind; good-day, Dame Bertrand. According to the rule, I do +not pass the threshold of the kitchen. I only wish it to be admired by +this young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us." + +"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good these +brats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed with +the long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen children +of both sexes, seated round a table, and deeply absorbed in the exercise +of their functions, which consisted in peeling potatoes and picking +herbs. + +"We are, I see, to have a downright Belshazzar's feast, Dame Bertrand?" +said Agricola, laughing. + +"Faith, a feast like we have always, my lad. Here is our bill of fare +for to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad, +fruit, cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts made +by Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now." + +"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," said +Agricola, gayly. "One soon knows when it is your turn in the kitchen," +added he, with a flattering air. + +"Get along, do!" said the female Soyer on service, merrily. + +"What astonishes me, so much, M. Agricola," said Angela, as they +continued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient, unwholesome +food of the workmen in our country, with that which is provided here." + +"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for much +better food than we should get for three francs in Paris." + +"But really it is hard to believe, M. Agricola. How is it possible?" + +"It is thanks to the magic wand of M. Hardy. I will explain it all +presently." + +"Oh! how impatient I am to see M. Hardy!" + +"You will soon see him--perhaps to-day; for he is expected every moment. +But here is the refectory, which you do not yet know, as your family, +like many others, prefer dining at home. See what a fine room, looking +out on the garden, just opposite the fountain!" + +It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with ten +windows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth, +were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartment served in +the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those who preferred to +pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or with their families. +Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantly lighted with gas, +some read, some played cards, some talked, and some occupied themselves +with easy work. + +"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you will +like this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdays and +Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays a +concert-room." + +"Really!" + +"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians, quite +capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearly all of +us sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, this week, +some disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented our +concerts." + +"So many voices! that must be superb." + +"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged this +amusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerful an +effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for two pupils +of the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has made great +progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flattering +ourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundred +voices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hear +it, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great and +elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices, +blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound." + +"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life of +joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure." + +"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied +Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed +situation?" + +"Yes; what is it?" + +"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode +of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have +a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a +manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two- +thirds of what he would have gained in health." + +"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side +of the grass-plot?" + +"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under +yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and the +lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses." + +"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?" + +"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle." + +Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girl +was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the +garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common +Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound +of trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two horses, +approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his +appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail and +crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after the +fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery, the +red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet, with +its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, and was +crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for the +marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and +chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment +Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela and +Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang lightly to +the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in livery, who +followed also on horseback. + +"Where shall I wait for your grace?" asked the groom. + +"At the end of the avenue," said the marshal. + +And, uncovering his head respectfully, he advanced hastily with his hat +in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had not previously +perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue; he was an +old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He wore a very neat +blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With his hands in his +pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe. + +"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as he +affectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returned +the pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay we +are!" added he, with a smile. + +"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took the +opportunity to call on you as soon as possible." + +"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do every +Sunday?" + +"They are coming in a carriage, father, and Dagobert accompanies them." + +"But what is the matter? you appear full of thought." + +"Indeed, father," said the marshal, with a somewhat agitated air, "I have +serious things to talk about." + +"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal and +his father disappeared at the turn of the avenue. + +Angela had been struck with amazement at seeing this brilliant General, +who was entitled "your grace," salute an old workman in a blouse as his +father; and, looking at Agricola with a confused air she said to him: +"What, M. Agricola! this old workman--" + +"Is the father of Marshal Duke de Ligny--the friend--yes, I may say the +friend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twenty +years served under him in war.' + +"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to his +father!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but why +does he let his father remain a workman?" + +"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory for +anything in the world. He was born a workman, and he will die a workman, +though he is the father of a duke and marshal of France." + +[29] See Adolphe Bobierre "On Air and Health," Paris, 1844. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE SECRET. + +When the very natural astonishment which the arrival of Marshal Simon had +caused in Angela had passed away, Agricola said to her with a smile: "I +do not wish to take advantage of this circumstance, Mdlle. Angela, to +spare you the account of the secret, by which all the wonders of our +Common Dwelling-house are brought to pass." + +"Oh! I should not have let you forget your promise, M. Agricola," +answered Angela, "what you have already told me interests me too much for +that." + +"Listen, then. M. Hardy, like a true magician, has pronounced three +cabalistic words: ASSOCIATION--COMMUNITY--FRATERNITY. We have understood +the sense of these words, and the wonders you have seen have sprung from +them, to our great advantage; and also, I repeat, to the great advantage +of M. Hardy." + +"It is that which appears so extraordinary, M. Agricola." + +"Suppose, mademoiselle, that M. Hardy, instead of being what he is, had +only been a cold-hearted speculator, looking merely to the profit, and +saying to himself: `To make the most of my factory, what is needed? Good +work--great economy in the raw material--full employment of the workman's +time; in a word, cheapness of manufacture, in order to produce cheaply-- +excellence of the thing produced, in order to sell dear.'" + +"Truly, M. Agricola, no manufacturer could desire more." + +"Well, mademoiselle, these conditions might have been fulfilled, as they +have been, but how? Had M. Hardy only been a speculator, he might have +said: `At a distance from my factory, my workmen might have trouble to +get there: rising earlier, they will sleep less; it is a bad economy to +take from the sleep so necessary to those who toil. When they get +feeble, the work suffers for it; then the inclemency of the seasons makes +it worse; the workman arrives wet, trembling with cold, enervated before +he begins to work--and then, what work!'" + +"It is unfortunately but too true, M. Agricola. At Lille, when I reached +the factory, wet through with a cold rain, I used sometimes to shiver all +day long at my work." + +"Therefore, Mdlle. Angela, the speculator might say: `To lodge my workmen +close to the door of my factory would obviate this inconvenience. Let us +make the calculation. In Paris the married workman pays about two +hundred and fifty francs a-year,[30] for one or two wretched rooms and a +closet, dark, small, unhealthy, in a narrow, miserable street; there he +lives pell-mell with his family. What ruined constitutions are the +consequence! and what sort of work can you expect from a feverish and +diseased creature? As for the single men, they pay for a smaller, and +quite as unwholesome lodging, about one hundred and fifty francs a-year. +Now, let us make the addition. I employ one hundred and forty-six +married workmen, who pay together, for their wretched holes, thirty-six +thousand five hundred francs; I employ also one hundred and fifteen +bachelors, who pay at the rate of seventeen thousand two hundred and +eighty francs; the total will amount to about fifty thousand francs per +annum, the interest on a million."' + +"Dear me, M. Agricola! what a sum to be produced by uniting all these +little rents together!" + +"You see, mademoiselle, that fifty thousand francs a-year is a +millionaire's rent. Now, what says our speculator: To induce our workmen +to leave Paris, I will offer them, enormous advantages. I will reduce +their rent one-half, and, instead of small, unwholesome rooms, they shall +have large, airy apartments, well-warmed and lighted, at a trifling +charge. Thus, one hundred and forty-six families, paying me only one +hundred and twenty-five francs a-year, and one hundred and fifteen +bachelors, seventy-five francs, I shall have a total of twenty-six to +twenty-seven thousand francs. Now, a building large enough to hold all +these people would cost me at most five hundred thousand francs.[31] I +shall then have invested my money at five per cent at the least, and with +perfect security, since the wages is a guarantee for the payment of the +rent.'" + +"Ah, M. Agricola! I begin to understand how it may sometimes be +advantageous to do good, even in a pecuniary sense." + +"And I am almost certain, mademoiselle, that, in the long run, affairs +conducted with uprightness and honesty turn out well. But to return to +our speculator. `Here,' will he say, `are my workmen, living close to my +factory, well lodged, well warmed, and arriving always fresh at their +work. That is not all; the English workman who eats good beef, and +drinks good beer, does twice as much, in the same time, as the French +workman,[32] reduced to a detestable kind of food, rather weakening than +the reverse, thanks to the poisonous adulteration of the articles he +consumes. My workmen will then labor much better, if they eat much +better. How shall I manage it without loss? Now I think of it, what is +the food in barracks, schools, even prisons? Is it not the union of +individual resources which procures an amount of comfort impossible to +realize without such an association? Now, if my two hundred and sixty +workmen, instead of cooking two hundred and sixty detestable dinners, +were to unite to prepare one good dinner for all of them, which might be +done, thanks to the savings of all sorts that would ensue, what an +advantage for me and them! Two or three women, aided by children, would +suffice to make ready the daily repasts; instead of buying wood and +charcoal in fractions,[33] and so paying for it double its value, the +association of my workmen would, upon my security (their wages would be +an efficient security for me in return), lay in their own stock of wood, +flour, butter, oil, wine, etc., all which they would procure directly +from the producers. Thus, they would pay three or four sous for a bottle +of pure wholesome wine, instead of paying twelve or fifteen sous for +poison. Every week the association would buy a whole ox, and some sheep, +and the women would make bread, as in the country. Finally, with these +resources, and order, and economy, my workmen may have wholesome, +agreeable, and sufficient food, for from twenty to twenty-five sous a +day.'" + +"Ah! this explains it, M. Agricola." + +"It is not all, mademoiselle. Our cool-headed speculator would continue: +`Here are my workmen well lodged, well warmed, well fed, with a saving of +at least half; why should they not also be warmly clad? Their health +will then have every chance of being good, and health is labor. The +association will buy wholesale, and at the manufacturing price (still +upon my security, secured to me by their wages), warm, good, strong +materials, which a portion of the workmen's wives will be able to make +into clothes as well as any tailor. Finally, the consumption of caps and +shoes being considerable, the association will obtain them at a great +reduction in price.' Well, Mdlle. Angela! what do you say to our +speculator?" + +"I say, M. Agricola," answered the young girl; with ingenuous admiration, +"that it is almost incredible, and yet so simple!" + +"No doubt, nothing is more simple than the good and beautiful, and yet we +think of it so seldom. Observe, that our man has only been speaking with +a view to his own interest--only considering the material side of the +question--reckoning for nothing the habit of fraternity and mutual aid, +which inevitably springs from living together in common--not reflecting +that a better mode of life improves and softens the character of man--not +thinking of the support and instruction which the strong owe to the weak- +--not acknowledging, in fine, that the honest, active, and industrious +man has a positive right to demand employment from society, and wages +proportionate to the wants of his condition. No, our speculator only +thinks of the gross profits; and yet, you see, he invests his money in +buildings at five per cent., and finds the greatest advantages in the +material comfort of his workmen." + +"It is true, M. Agricola." + +"And what will you say, mademoiselle, when I prove to you that our +speculator finds also a great advantage in giving to his workmen, in +addition to their regular wages, a proportionate share of his profits?" + +"That appears to me more difficult to prove, M. Agricola." + +"Yet I will convince you of it in a few minutes." + +Thus conversing, Angela and Agricola had reached the garden-gate of the +Common Dwelling-house. An elderly woman, dressed plainly, but with care +and neatness, approached Agricola, and asked him: "Has M. Hardy returned +to the factory, sir?" + +"No, madame; but we expect him hourly." + +"To-day, perhaps?" + +"To-day or to-morrow, madame." + +"You cannot tell me at what hour he will be here?" + +"I do not think it is known, madame, but the porter of the factory, who +also belongs to M. Hardy's private house, may, perhaps, be able to inform +you." + +"I thank you, sir." + +"Quite welcome, madame." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, when the woman who had just questioned him +was gone, "did you remark that this lady was very pale and agitated?" + +"I noticed it as you did, mademoiselle; I thought I saw tears standing in +her eyes." + +"Yes, she seemed to have been crying. Poor woman! perhaps she came to +ask assistance of M. Hardy. But what ails you, M. Agricola? You appear +quite pensive." + +Agricola had a vague presentiment that the visit of this elderly woman +with so sad a countenance, had some connection with the adventure of the +young and pretty lady, who, three days before had come all agitated and +in tears to inquire after M. Hardy, and who had learned--perhaps too +late--that she was watched and followed. + +"Forgive me, mademoiselle," said Agricola to Angela; but the presence of +this old lady reminded me of a circumstance, which, unfortunately, I +cannot tell you, for it is a secret that does not belong to me alone." + +"Oh! do not trouble yourself, M. Agricola," answered the young girl, with +a smile; "I am not inquisitive, and what we were talking of before +interests me so much, that I do not wish to hear you speak of anything +else." + +"Well, then mademoiselle, I will say a few words more, and you will be as +well informed as I am of the secrets of our association." + +"I am listening, M. Agricola." + +"Let us still keep in view the speculator from mere interest. 'Here are +my workmen, says he, `in the best possible condition to do a great deal +of work. Now what is to be done to obtain large profits? Produce +cheaply, and sell dear. But there will be no cheapness, without economy +in the use of the raw material, perfection of the manufacturing process, +and celerity of labor. Now, in spite of all my vigilance, how am I to +prevent my workmen from wasting the materials? How am I to induce them, +each in his own province, to seek for the most simple and least irksome +processes?" + +"True, M. Agricola; how is that to be done?" + +"'And that is not all,' says our man; `to sell my produce at high prices, +it should be irreproachable, excellent. My workmen do pretty well; but +that is not enough. I want them to produce masterpieces.'" + +"But, M. Agricola, when they have once performed the task set them what +interest have workmen to give themselves a great deal of trouble to +produce masterpieces?" + +"There it is, Mdlle. Angela; what interest have they? Therefore, our +speculator soon says to himself: `That my workmen may have an interest to +be economical in the use of the materials, an interest to employ their +time well, an interest to invent new and better manufacturing processes, +an interest to send out of their hands nothing but masterpieces--I must +give them an interest in the profits earned by their economy, activity, +zeal and skill. The better they manufacture, the better I shall sell, +and the larger will be their gain and mine also.'" + +"Oh! now I understand, M. Agricola." + +"And our speculator would make a good speculation. Before he was +interested, the workman said: `What does it matter to me, that I do more +or do better in the course of the day? What shall I gain by it? +Nothing. Well, then, little work for little wages. But now, on the +contrary (he says), I have an interest in displaying zeal and economy. +All is changed. I redouble my activity, and strive to excel the others. +If a comrade is lazy, and likely to do harm to the factory, I have the +right to say to him: `Mate, we all suffer more or less from your +laziness, and from the injury you are doing the common weal.'" + +"And then, M. Agricola, with what ardor, courage, and hope, you must set +to work!" + +"That is what our speculator counts on; and he may say to himself, +further: `Treasures of experience and practical wisdom are often buried +in workshops, for want of goodwill, opportunity, or encouragement. +Excellent workmen, instead of making all the improvements in their power, +follow with indifference the old jog-trot. What a pity! for an +intelligent man, occupied all his life with some special employment, must +discover, in the long run, a thousand ways of doing his work better and +quicker. I will form, therefore, a sort of consulting committee; I will +summon to it my foremen and my most skillful workmen. Our interest 1s +now the same. Light will necessarily spring from this centre of +practical intelligence.' Now, the speculator is not deceived in this, +and soon struck with the incredible resources, the thousand new, +ingenious, perfect inventions suddenly revealed by his workmen, `Why' he +exclaims, `if you knew this, did you not tell it before? What for the +last ten years has cost me a hundred francs to make, would have cost me +only fifty, without reckoning an enormous saving of time.' 'Sir, answers +the workman, who is not more stupid than others, "what interest had I, +that you should effect a saving of fifty per cent? None. But now it is +different. You give me, besides my wages, a share in your profits; you +raise me in my own esteem, by consulting my experience and knowledge. +Instead of treating me as an inferior being, you enter into communion +with me. It is my interest, it is my duty, to tell you all I know, and +to try to acquire more.' And thus it is, Mdlle. Angela, that the +speculator can organize his establishment, so as to shame his +oppositionists, and provoke their envy. Now if, instead of a cold- +hearted calculator, we tape a man who unites with the knowledge of these +facts the tender and generous sympathies of an evangelical heart, and the +elevation of a superior mind, he will extend his ardent solicitude; not +only to the material comfort, but to the moral emancipation, of his +workmen. Seeking everywhere every possible means to develop their +intelligence, to improve their hearts, and strong in the authority +acquired by his beneficence, feeling that he on whom depends the +happiness or the misery of three hundred human creatures has also the +care of souls, he will be the guide of those whom he no longer calls his +workmen, but his brothers, in a straightforward and noble path, and will +try to create in them the taste for knowledge and art, which will render +them happy and proud of a condition of life that is often accepted by +others with tears and curses of despair. Well, Mdlle. Angela, such a man +is--but, see! he could not arrive amongst us except in the middle of a +blessing. There he is--there is M. Hardy!" + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, deeply moved, and drying her tears; "we +should receive him with our hands clasped in gratitude." + +"Look if that mild and noble countenance is not the image of his +admirable soul!" + +A carriage with post horses, in which was M. Hardy, with M. de Blessac, +the unworthy friend who was betraying him in so infamous a manner, +entered at this moment the courtyard of the factory. + +A little while after, a humble hackney-coach was seen advancing also +towards the factory, from the direction of Paris. In this coach was +Rodin. + +[30] The average price of a workman's lodging, composed of two small +rooms and a closet at most, on the third or fourth story. + +[31] This calculation is amply sufficient, if not excessive. A similar +building, at one league from Paris, on the side of Montrouge, with all +the necessary offices, kitchen, wash-houses, etc., with gas and water +laid on, apparatus for warming, etc., and a garden of ten acres, cost, at +the period of this narrative, hardly five hundred thousand francs. An +experienced builder less obliged us with an estimate, which confirms what +we advance. It is, therefore, evident, that, even at the same price +which workmen are in the habit of paying, it would be possible to provide +them with perfectly healthy lodgings, and yet invest one's money at ten +per cent. + +[32] The fact was proved in the works connected with the Rouen Railway. +Those French workmen who, having no families, were able to live like the +English, did at least as much work as the latter, being strengthened by +wholesome and sufficient nourishment. + +[33] Buying penny-worths, like all other purchases at minute retail, are +greatly to the poor man's disadvantage. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +REVELATIONS. + +During the visit of Angela and Agricola to the Common Dwelling-house, the +band of Wolves, joined upon the road by many of the haunters of taverns, +continued to march towards the factory, which the hackney-coach, that +brought Rodin from Paris, was also fast approaching. M. Hardy, on +getting out of the carriage with his friend, M. de Blessac, had entered +the parlor of the house that he occupied next the factory. M. Hardy was +of middle size, with an elegant and slight figure, which announced a +nature essentially nervous and impressionable. His forehead was broad +and open, his complexion pale, his eyes black, full at once of mildness +and penetration, his countenance honest, intelligent, and attractive. + +One word will paint the character of M. Hardy. His mother had called him +her Sensitive Plant. His was indeed one of those fine and exquisitely +delicate organizations, which are trusting, loving, noble, generous, but +so susceptible, that the least touch makes them shrink into themselves. +If we join to this excessive sensibility a passionate love for art, a +first-rate intellect, tastes essentially refined, and then think of the +thousand deceptions, and numberless infamies of which M. Hardy must have +been the victim in his career as a manufacturer, we shall wonder how this +heart, so delicate and tender, had not been broken a thousand times, in +its incessant struggle with merciless self-interest. M. Hardy had indeed +suffered much. Forced to follow the career of productive industry, to +honor the engagements of his father, a model of uprightness and probity, +who had yet left his affairs somewhat embarrassed, in consequence of the +events of 1815, he had succeeded, by perseverance and capacity, in +attaining one of the most honorable positions in the commercial world. +But, to arrive at this point, what ignoble annoyances had he to bear +with, what perfidious opposition to combat, what hateful rivalries to +tire out! + +Sensitive as he was, M. Hardy would a thousand times have fallen a victim +to his emotions of painful indignation against baseness, of bitter +disgust at dishonesty, but for the wise and firm support of his mother. +When he returned to her, after a day of painful struggles with odious +deceptions, he found himself suddenly transported into an atmosphere of +such beneficent purity, of such radiant serenity, that he lost almost on +the instant the remembrance of the base things by which he had been so +cruelly tortured during the day; the pangs of his heart were appeased at +the mere contact of her great and lofty soul; and therefore his love for +her resembled idolatry. When he lost her, he experienced one of those +calm, deep sorrows which have no end--which become, as it were, part of +life, and have even sometimes their days of melancholy sweetness. A +little while after this great misfortune, M. Hardy became more closely +connected with his workmen. He had always been a just and good master; +but, although the place that his mother left in his heart would ever +remain void, he felt as it were a redoubled overflowing of the +affections, and the more he suffered, the more he craved to see happy +faces around him. The wonderful ameliorations, which he now produced in +the physical and moral condition of all about him, served, not to divert, +but to occupy his grief. Little by little, he withdrew from the world, +and concentrated his life in three affections: a tender and devoted +friendship, which seemed to include all past friendships--a love ardent +and sincere, like a last passion--and a paternal attachment to his +workmen. His days therefore passed in the heart of that little world, so +full of respect and gratitude towards him--a world, which he had, as it +were, created after the image of his mind, that he might find there a +refuge from the painful realities he dreaded, surrounded with good, +intelligent, happy beings, capable of responding to the noble thoughts +which had become more and more necessary to his existence. Thus, after +many sorrows, M. Hardy, arrived at the maturity of age, possessing a +sincere friend, a mistress worthy of his love, and knowing himself +certain of the passionate devotion of his workmen, had attained, at the +period of this history, all the happiness he could hope for since his +mother's death. + +M. de Blessac, his bosom friend, had long been worthy of his touching and +fraternal affection; but we have seen by what diabolical means Father +d'Aigrigny and Rodin had succeeded in making M. de Blessac, until then +upright and sincere, the instrument of their machinations. The two +friends, who had felt on their journey a little of the sharp influence of +the north wind, were warming themselves at a good fire lighted in M. +Hardy's parlor. + +"Oh! my dear Marcel, I begin really to get old," said M. Hardy, with a +smile, addressing M. de Blessac; "I feel more and more the want of being +at home. To depart from my usual habits has become painful to me, and I +execrate whatever obliges me to leave this happy little spot of ground." + +"And when I think," answered M. de Blessac, unable to forbear blushing, +"when I think, my friend, that you undertook this long journey only for +my sake!--" + +"Well, my dear Marcel! have you not just accompanied me in your turn, in +an excursion which, without you, would have been as tiresome as it has +been charming?" + +"What a difference, my friend! I have contracted towards you a debt that +I can never repay." + +"Nonsense, my dear Marcel! Between us, there are no distinctions of meum +and tuum. Besides, in matters of friendship, it is as sweet to give as +to receive." + +"Noble heart! noble heart!" + +"Say, happy heart!--most happy, in the last affections for which it +beats." + +"And who, gracious heaven! could deserve happiness on earth, if it be not +you, my friend?" + +"And to what do I owe that happiness? To the affections which I found +here, ready to sustain me, when deprived of the support of my mother, who +was all my strength, I felt myself (I confess my weakness) almost +incapable of standing up against adversity." + +"You, my friend--with so firm and resolute a character in doing good-- +you, that I have seen struggle with so much energy and courage, to secure +the triumph of some great and noble idea?" + +"Yes; but the farther I advance in my career, the more am I disgusted +with all base and shameful actions, and the less strength I feel to +encounter them--" + +"Were it necessary, you would have the courage, my friend." + +"My dear Marcel," replied M. Hardy, with mild and restrained emotion, "I +have often said to you: My courage was my mother. You see, my friend, +when I went to her, with my heart torn by some horrible ingratitude, or +disgusted by some base deceit, she, taking my hands between her own +venerable palms, would say to me in her grave and tender voice: `My dear +child, it is for the ungrateful and dishonest to suffer; let us pity the +wicked, let us forget evil, and only think of good.'--Then, my friend, +this heart, painfully contracted, expanded beneath the sacred influence +of the maternal words, and every day I gathered strength from her, to +recommence on the morrow a cruel struggle with the sad necessities of my +condition. Happily, it has pleased God, that, after losing that beloved +mother, I have been able to bind up my life with affections, deprived of +which, I confess, I should find myself feeble and disarmed for you cannot +tell, Marcel, the support, the strength that I have found in your +friendship." + +"Do not speak of me, my dear friend," replied M. de Blessac, dissembling +his embarrassment. "Let us talk of another affection, almost as sweet +and tender as that of a mother." + +"I understand you, my good Marcel," replied M. Hardy: "I have concealed +nothing from you since, under such serious circumstances, I had recourse +to the counsels of your friendship. Well! yes; I think that every day I +live augment my adoration for this woman, the only one that I have ever +passionately loved, the only one that I shall now ever love. And then I +must tell you, that my mother, not knowing what Margaret was to me, as +often loud in her praise, and that circumstance renders this love almost +sacred in my eyes." + +"And then there are such strange resemblances between Mme. de Noisy's +character and yours, my friend; above all, in her worship of her mother." + +"It is true, Marcel; that affection has often caused me both admiration +and torment. How often she has said to me, with her habitual frankness: +`I have sacrificed all for you, but I would sacrifice you for my +mother.'" + +"Thank heaven, my friend, you will never see Mme. de Noisy exposed to +that cruel choice. Her mother, you say, has long renounced her intention +of returning to America, where M. de Noisy, perfectly careless of his +wife, appears to have settled himself permanently. Thanks to the +discreet devotion of the excellent woman by whom Margaret was brought up, +your love is concealed in the deepest mystery. What could disturb it +now?" + +"Nothing--oh! nothing," cried M. Hardy. "I have almost security for its +duration." + +"What do you mean, my friend?" + +"I do not know if I ought to tell you." + +"Have you ever found me indiscreet, my friend?" + +"You, good Marcel! how can you suppose such a thing?" said M. Hardy, in a +tone of friendly reproach; "no! but I do not like to tell you of my +happiness, till it is complete; and I am not yet quite certain--" + +A servant entered at this moment and said to M. Hardy: "Sir, there is an +old gentleman who wishes to speak to you on very pressing business." + +"So soon!" said M. Hardy, with a slight movement of impatience. "With +your permission, my friend." Then, as M. de Blessac seemed about to +withdraw into the next room, M. Hardy added with a smile: "No, no; do not +stir. Your presence will shorten the interview." + +"But if it be a matter of business, my friend?" + +"I do everything openly, as you know." Then, addressing the servant, M. +Hardy bade him: "Ask the gentleman to walk in." + +"The postilion wishes to know if he is to wait?" + +"Certainly: he will take M. de Blessac back to Paris." + +The servant withdrew, and presently returned, introducing Rodin, with +whom M. de Blessac was not acquainted, his treacherous bargain having +been negotiated through another agent. + +"M. Hardy?" said Rodin, bowing respectfully to the two friends, and +looking from one to the other with an air of inquiry. + +"That is my name, sir; what can I do to serve you?" answered the +manufacturer, kindly; for, at first sight of the humble and ill-dressed +old man, he expected an application for assistance. + +"M. Francois Hardy," repeated Rodin, as if he wished to make sure of the +identity of the person. + +"I have had the honor to tell you that I am he." + +"I have a private communication to make to you, sir," said Rodin. + +"You may speak, sir. This gentleman is my friend," said M. Hardy, +pointing to M. de Blessac. + +"But I wish to speak to you alone, sir," resumed Rodin. + +M. de Blessac was again about to withdraw, when M. Hardy retained him +with a glance, and said to Rodin kindly, for he thought his feelings +might be hurt by asking a favor in presence of a third party: "Permit me +to inquire if it is on your account or on mine, that you wish this +interview to be secret?" + +"On your account entirely, sir," answered Rodin. + +"Then, sir," said M. Hardy, with some surprise, "you may speak out. I +have no secrets from this gentleman." + +After a moment's silence, Rodin resumed, addressing himself to M. Hardy: +"Sir, you deserve, I know, all the good that is said of you; and you +therefore command the sympathy of every honest man." + +"I hope so, sir." + +"Now, as an honest man, I come to render you a service." + +"And this service, sir--" + +"To reveal to you an infamous piece of treachery, of which you have been +the victim." + +"I think, sir, you must be deceived." + +"I have the proofs of what I assert." + +"Proofs?" + +"The written proofs of the treachery that I come to reveal: I have them +here," answered Rodin "In a word, a man whom you believed your friend, +has shamefully deceived you, sir." + +"And the name of this man?" + +"M. Marcel de Blessac," replied Rodin. + +On these words, M. de Blessac started, and became pale as death. He +could hardly murmur: "Sir--" + +But, without looking at his friend, or perceiving his agitation, M. Hardy +seized his hand, and exclaimed hastily: "Silence, my friend!" Then, +whilst his eye flashed with indignation, he turned towards Rodin, who had +not ceased to look him full in the face,, and said to him, with an air of +lofty disdain: "What! do you accuse M. de Blessac?" + +"Yes, I accuse him," replied Rodin, briefly. + +"Do you know him?" + +"I have never seen him." + +"Of what do you accuse him? And how dare you say that he has betrayed +me?" + +"Two words, if you please," said Rodin, with an emotion which he appeared +hardly able to restrain. "If one man of honor sees another about to be +slain by an assassin, ought he not give the alarm of murder?" + +"Yes, sir; but what has that to do--" + +"In my eyes, sir, certain treasons are as criminal as murders: I have +come to place myself between the assassin and his victim." + +"The assassin? the victim?" said M. Hardy more and more astonished. + +"You doubtless know M. de Blessac's writing?" said Rodin. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then read this," said Rodin, drawing from his pocket a letter, which he +handed to M. Hardy. + +Casting now for the first time a glance at M. de Blessac, the +manufacturer drew back a step, terrified at the death-like paleness of +this man, who, struck dumb with shame, could not find a word to justify +himself; for he was far from possessing the audacious effrontery +necessary to carry him through his treachery. + +"Marcel!" cried M. Hardy, in alarm, and deeply agitated by this +unexpected blow. "Marcel! how pale you are! you do not answer!" + +"Marcel! this, then, is M. de Blessac?" cried Rodin, feigning the most +painful surprise. "Oh, sir, if I had known--" + +"But don't you hear this man, Marcel?" cried M. Hardy. "He says that you +have betrayed me infamously." He seized the hand of M. de Blessac. That +hand was cold as ice. "Oh, God! Oh God!" said M. Hardy, drawing back in +horror: "he makes no answer!" + +"Since I am in presence of M. de Blessac," resumed Rodin, "I am forced to +ask him, if he can deny having addressed many letters to the Rue du +Milieu des Ursins, at Paris under cover of M. Rodin." + +M. de Blessac remained dumb. M. Hardy, still unwilling to believe what +he saw and heard, convulsively tore open the letter, which Rodin had just +delivered to him, and read the first few lines--interrupting the perusal +with exclamations of grief and amazement. He did not require to finish +the letter, to convince himself of the black treachery of M. de Blessac. +He staggered; for a moment his senses seemed to abandon him. The +horrible discovery made him giddy, and his head swam on his first look +down into that abyss of infamy. The loathsome letter dropped from his +trembling hands. But soon indignation, rage, and scorn succeeded this +moment of despair, and rushing, pale and terrible, upon M. de Blessac: +"Wretch!" he exclaimed, with a threatening gesture. But, pausing as in +the act to strike: "No!" he added, with fearful calmness. "It would be +to soil my hands." + +He turned towards Rodin, who had approached hastily, as if to interpose. +"It is not worth while chastising a wretch," said M. Hardy; "But I will +press your honest hand, sir--for you have had the courage to unmask a +traitor and a coward." + +"Sir!" cried M. de Blessac, overcome with shame; "I am at your orders-- +and--" + +He could not finish. The sound of voices was heard behind the door, +which opened violently, and an aged woman entered, in spite of the +efforts of the servant, exclaiming in an agitated voice: "I tell you, I +must speak instantly to your master." + +On hearing this voice, and at sight of the pale, weeping woman, M. Hardy, +forgetting M. de Blessac, Rodin, the infamous treachery, and all, fell +back a step, and exclaimed: "Madame Duparc! you here! What is the +matter?" + +"Oh, sir! a great misfortune " + +"Margaret!" cried M. Hardy, in a tone of despair. + +"She is gone, sir!" + +"Gone!" repeated M. Hardy, as horror-struck as if a thunderbolt had +fallen at his feet. "Margaret gone!" + +"All is discovered. Her mother took her away--three days ago!" said the +unhappy woman, in a failing voice. + +"Gone! Margaret! It is not true. You deceive me," cried M. Hardy. +Refusing to hear more, wild, despairing, he rushed out of the house, +threw himself into his carriage, to which the post-horses were still +harnessed, waiting for M. de Blessac, and said to the postilion: "To +Paris! as fast as you can go!" + +As the carriage, rapid as lightning, started upon the road to Paris, the +wind brought nearer the distant sound of the war-song of the Wolves, who +were rushing towards the factory. In this impending destruction, see +Rodin's subtle hand, administering his fatal blows to clear his way up to +the chair of St. Peter to which he aspired. His tireless, wily course +can hardly be darker shadowed by aught save that dread coming horror the +Cholera, whose aid he evoked, and whose health the Bacchanal Queen wildly +drank. + +That once gay girl, and her poor famished sister; the fair patrician and +her Oriental lover; Agricola, the workman, and his veteran father; the +smiling Rose-Pompon, and the prematurely withered Jacques Rennepont; +Father d'Aigrigny, the mock priest; and Gabriel, the true disciple; with +the rest that have been named and others yet to be pictured, in the blaze +of the bolts of their life's paths, will be seen in the third and +concluding part of this romance entitled, "THE WANDERING JEW: +REDEMPTION." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Wandering Jew, V7, by Eugene Sue + diff --git a/old/es07v10.zip b/old/es07v10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8ba0c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/es07v10.zip diff --git a/old/es07v11.txt b/old/es07v11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..027dc23 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/es07v11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5234 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Wandering Jew v7, by Eugene Sue +#7 in our series by Eugene Sue + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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The +following scene took place in a little dwelling in the Rue Blanche, to +which Djalma had been conducted in the name of his unknown protector. +Fancy to yourself a pretty, circular apartment, hung with Indian drapery, +with purple figures on a gray ground, just relieved by a few threads of +gold. The ceiling, towards the centre, is concealed by similar hangings, +tied together by a thick, silken cord; the two ends of this cord, unequal +in length, terminated, instead of tassels, in two tiny Indian lamps of +gold filigreed-work, marvellously finished. By one of those ingenious +combinations, so common in barbarous countries, these lamps served also +to burn perfumes. Plates of blue crystal, let in between the openings of +the arabesque, and illumined by the interior light, shone with so limpid +an azure, that the golden lamps seemed starred with transparent +sapphires. Light clouds, of whitish vapor rose incessantly from these +lamps, and spread all around their balmy odor. + +Daylight was only admitted to this room (it was about two o'clock in the +afternoon) through a little greenhouse, on the other side of a door of +plate-glass, made to slide into the thickness of the wall, by means of a +groove. A Chinese shade was arranged so as to hide or replace this glass +at pleasure. Some dwarf palm tress, plantains, and other Indian +productions, with thick leaves of a metallic green, arranged in clusters +in this conservatory, formed, as it were, the background to two large +variegated bushes of exotic flowers, which were separated by a narrow +path, paved with yellow and blue Japanese tiles, running to the foot of +the glass. The daylight, already much dimmed by the leaves through which +it passed, took a hue of singular mildness as it mingled with the azure +lustre of the perfumed lamps, and the crimson brightness of the fire in +the tall chimney of oriental porphyry. In the obscurity of this +apartment, impregnated with sweet odors and the aromatic vapor of Persian +tobacco, a man with brown, hanging locks, dressed in a long robe of dark +green, fastened round the waist by a parti-colored sash, was kneeling +upon a magnificent Turkey carpet, filling the golden bowl of a hookah; +the long, flexible tube of this pipe, after rolling its folds upon the +carpet, like a scarlet serpent with silver scales, rested between the +slender fingers of Djalma, who was reclining negligently on a divan. The +young prince was bareheaded; his jet-black hair, parted on the middle of +his forehead, streamed waving about his face and neck of antique beauty-- +their warm transparent colors resembling amber or topaz. Leaning his +elbow on a cushion, he supported his chin with the palm of his right +hand. The flowing sleeve of his robe, falling back from his arm, which +was round as that of a woman, revealed mysterious signs formerly tattooed +there in India by a Thug's needle. The son of Radja-sing held in his +left hand the amber mouthpiece of his pipe. His robe of magnificent +cashmere, with a border of a thousand hues, reaching to his knee, was +fastened about his slim and well-formed figure by the large folds of an +orange-colored shawl. This robe was half withdrawn from one of the +elegant legs of this Asiatic Antinous, clad in a kind of very close +fitting gaiter of crimson velvet, embroidered with silver, and +terminating in a small white morocco slipper, with a scarlet heel. At +once mild and manly, the countenance of Djalma was expressive of that +melancholy and contemplative calmness habitual to the Indian and the +Arab, who possess the happy privilege of uniting, by a rare combination, +the meditative indolence of the dreamer with the fiery energy of the man +of action--now delicate, nervous, impressionable as women--now +determined, ferocious, and sanguinary as bandits. + +And this semi-feminine comparison, applicable to the moral nature of the +Arab and the Indian, so long as they are not carried away by the ardor of +battle and the excitement of carnage, is almost equally applicable to +their physical constitution; for if, like women of good blood, they have +small extremities, slender limbs, fine and supple forms, this delicate +and often charming exterior always covers muscles of steel, full of an +elasticity, and vigor truly masculine. Djalma's oblong eyes, like black +diamonds set in bluish mother-of-pearl, wandered mechanically from the +exotic flowers to the ceiling; from time to time he raised the amber +mouthpiece of the hookah to his lips; then, after a slow aspiration, half +opening his rosy lips, strongly contrasted with the shining enamel of his +teeth, he sent forth a little spiral line of smoke, freshly scented by +the rose-water through which it had passed. + +"Shall I put more tobacco in the hookah?" said the kneeling figure, +turning towards Djalma, and revealing the marked and sinister features of +Faringhea the Strangler. + +The young prince remained dumb, either that, from an oriental contempt +for certain races, he disdained to answer the half-caste, or that, +absorbed in his reverie, he did not even hear him. The Strangler became +again silent; crouching cross-legged upon the carpet, with his elbows +resting on his knees, and his chin upon his hands, he kept his eyes fixed +on Djalma, and seemed to await the reply or the orders of him whose sire +had been surnamed the Father of the Generous. How had Faringhea, the +sanguinary worshipper of Bowanee, the Divinity of Murder, been brought to +seek or to accept such humble functions? How came this man, possessed of +no vulgar talents, whose passionate eloquence and ferocious energy had +recruited many assassins for the service of the Good Work, to resign +himself to so base a condition? Why, too, had this man, who, profiting +by the young prince's blindness with regard to himself, might have so +easily sacrificed him as an offering to Bowanee--why had he spared the +life of Radja-sings son? Why, in fine, did he expose himself to such +frequent encounters with Rodin, whom he had only known under the most +unfavorable auspices? The sequel of this story will answer all these +questions. We can only say at present, that, after a long interview with +Rodin, two nights before, the Thug had quitted him with downcast eyes and +cautious bearing. + +After having remained silent for some time, Djalma, following with his +eye the cloud of whitish smoke that he had just sent forth into space, +addressed Faringhea, without looking at him, and said to him in the +language, as hyperbolical as concise, of Orientals: "Time passes. The +old man with the good heart does not come. But he will come. His word +is his word." + +"His word is his word, my lord," repeated Faringhea, in an affirmative +tone. "When he came to fetch you, three days ago, from the house whither +those wretches, m furtherance of their wicked designs, had conveyed you +in a deep sleep--after throwing me, your watchful and devoted servant, +into a similar state--he said to you: 'The unknown friend, who sent for +you to Cardoville Castle, bids me come to you, prince. Have confidence, +and follow me. A worthy abode is prepared for you.'--And again, he said +to you, my lord: 'Consent not to leave the house, until my return. Your +interest requires it. In three days you will see me again, and then be +restored to perfect freedom.' You consented to those terms, my lord, and +for three days you have not left the house." + +"And I wait for the old man with impatience," said Djalma, "for this +solitude is heavy with me. There must be so many things to admire in +Paris. Above all." + +Djalma did not finish the sentence, but relapsed into a reverie. After +some moments' silence, the son of Radja-sing said suddenly to Faringhea, +in the tone of an impatient yet indolent sultan: "Speak to me!" + +"Of what shall I speak, my lord?" + +"Of what you will," said Djalma, with careless contempt, as he fixed on +the ceiling his eyes, half-veiled with languor. "One thought pursues me +--I wish to be diverted from it. Speak to me." + +Faringhea threw a piercing glance on the countenance of the young Indian, +and saw that his cheeks were colored with a slight blush. "My lord," +said the half-caste, "I can guess your thought." + +Djalma shook his head, without looking at the Strangler. The latter +resumed: "You are thinking of the women of Paris, my lord." + +"Be silent, slave!" said Djalma, turning abruptly on the sofa, as if some +painful wound had been touched to the quick. Faringhea obeyed. + +After the lapse of some moments. Djalma broke forth again with +impatience, throwing aside the tube of the hookah, and veiling both eyes +with his hands: "Your words are better than silence. Cursed be my +thoughts, and the spirit which calls up these phantoms!" + +"Why should you fly these thoughts, my lord? You are nineteen years of +age, and hitherto all your youth has been spent in war and captivity. Up +to this time, you have remained as chaste as Gabriel, that young +Christian priest, who accompanied us on our voyage." + +Though Faringhea did not at all depart from his respectful deference for +the prince, the latter felt that there was something of irony in the tone +of the half-caste, as he pronounced the word "chaste." + +Djalma said to him with a mixture of pride and severity: "I do not wish +to pass for a barbarian, as they call us, with these civilized people; +therefore I glory in my chastity." + +"I do not understand, my lord." + +"I may perhaps love some woman, pure as was my mother when she married my +father; and to ask for purity from a woman, a man must be chaste as she." + +At this, Faringhea could not refrain from a sardonic smile. + +"Why do you laugh, slave?" said the young prince, imperiously. + +"Among civilized people, as you call them, my lord, the man who married +in the flower of his innocence would be mortally wounded with ridicule." + +"It is false, slave! He would only be ridiculous if he married one that +was not pure as himself." + +"Then, my lord, he would not only be wounded--he would be killed +outright, for he would be doubly and unmercifully laughed at." + +"It is false! it is false. Where did you learn all this?" + +"I have seen Parisian women at the Isle of France, and at Pondicherry, my +lord. Moreover, I learned a good deal during our voyage; I talked with a +young officer, while you conversed with the young priest." + +"So, like the sultans of our harems, civilized men require of women the +innocence they have themselves lost." + +"They require it the more, the less they have of it, my lord." + +"To require without any return, is to act as a master to his slave; by +what right?" + +"By the right of the strongest--as it is among us, my lord." + +"And what do the women do?" + +"They prevent the men from being too ridiculous, when they marry, in the +eyes of the world." + +"But they kill a woman that is false?" said Djalma, raising himself +abruptly, and fixing upon Faringhea a savage look, that sparkled with +lurid fire. + +"They kill her, my lord, as with us--when they find her out." + +"Despots like ourselves! Why then do these civilized men not shut up +their women, to force them to a fidelity which they do not practise?" + +"Because their civilization is barbarous, and their barbarism civilized, +my lord." + +"All this is sad enough, if true," observed Djalma, with a pensive air, +adding, with a species of enthusiasm, employing, as usual, the mystic and +figurative language familiar to the people of his country; "yes, your +talk afflicts me, slave--for two drops of dew blending in the cup of a +flower are as hearts that mingle in a pure and virgin love; and two rays +of light united in one inextinguishable flame, are as the burning and +eternal joys of lovers joined in wedlock." + +Djalma spoke of the pure enjoyments of the soul with inexpressible grace, +yet it was when he painted less ideal happiness, that his eyes shone like +stars; he shuddered slightly, his nostrils swelled, the pale gold of his +complexion became vermilion, and the young prince sank into a deep +reverie. + +Faringhea, having remarked this emotion, thus spoke: "If, like the proud +and brilliant king-bird of our woods, you prefer numerous and varied +pleasures to solitary and monotonous amours--handsome, young, rich as you +are, my lord, were you to seek out the seductive Parisians--voluptuous +phantoms of your nights--charming tormentors of your dreams--were you to +cast upon them looks bold as a challenge, supplicating as prayers, ardent +as desires--do you not think that many a half-veiled eye would borrow +fire from your glance? Then it would no longer be the monotonous +delights of a single love, the heavy chain of our life--no, it would be +the thousand pleasures of the harem--a harem peopled with free and proud +beauties, whom happy love would make your slaves. So long constrained, +there is no such thing as excess to you. Believe me, it would then be +you, the ardent, the magnificent son of our country, that would become +the love and pride of these women--the most seductive in the world, who +would soon have for you no looks but those of languor and passion." + +Djalma had listened to Faringhea with silent eagerness. The expression +of his features had completely changed; it was no longer the melancholy +and dreaming youth, invoking the sacred remembrance of his mother, and +finding only in the dew of heaven, in the calyx of flowers, images +sufficiently pure to paint the chastity of the love he dreamed of; it was +no longer even the young man, blushing with a modest ardor at the thought +of the permitted joys of a legitimate union. No! the incitements of +Faringhea had kindled a subterraneous fire; the inflamed countenance of +Djalma, his eyes now sparkling and now veiled, his manly and sonorous +respiration, announced the heat of his blood, the boiling up of the +passions, only the more energetic, that they had been hitherto +restrained. + +So, springing suddenly from the divan, supple, vigorous, and light as a +young tiger, Djalma clutched Faringhea by the throat exclaiming: "Thy +words are burning poison!" + +"My lord," said Faringhea, without opposing the least resistance, "your +slave is your slave." This submission disarmed the prince. + +"My life belongs to you," repeated the half-caste. + +"I belong to you, slave!" cried Djalma, repulsing him. "Just now, I hung +upon your lips, devouring your dangerous lies." + +"Lies, my lord? Only appear before these women, and their looks will +confirm my words." + +"These women love me!--me, who have only lived in war and in the woods?" + +"The thought that you, so young, have already waged bloody war on men and +tigers, will make them adore, my lord." + +"You lie!" + +"I tell you, my lord, on seeing your hand, as delicate as theirs, but +which has been so often bathed in hostile blood, they will wish to caress +it; and they will kiss it again, when they think that, in our forests, +with loaded rifle, and a poniard between your teeth, you smiled at the +roaring of a lion or panther for whom you lay in wait." + +"But I am a savage--a barbarian." + +"And for that very reason you will have them at your feet. They will +feel themselves both terrified and charmed by all the violence and fury, +the rage of jealousy, the passion and the love, to which a man of your +blood, your youth, your ardor must be subject. To-day mild and tender, +to-morrow fierce and suspicious, another time ardent and passionate, such +you will be--and such you ought to be, if you wish to win them. Yes; let +a kiss of rage be heard between two kisses: let a dagger glitter in the +midst of caresses, and they will fall before you, palpitating with +pleasure, love, and fear--and you will be to them, not a man, but a god." + +"Dost think so?" cried Djalma, carried away in spite of himself by the +Thug's wild eloquence. + +"You know, you feel, that I speak the truth," cried the latter, extending +his arm towards the young Indian. + +"Why, yes!" exclaimed Djalma, his eyes sparkling, his nostrils swelling, +as he moved about the apartment with savage bounds. "I know not if I +possess my reason, or if I am intoxicated, but it seems to me that you +speak truth. Yes, I feel that they will love me with madness and fury, +because my love will be mad and furious they will tremble with pleasure +and fear, because the very thought of it makes me tremble with delight +and terror. Slave, it is true; there is something exciting and fearful +in such a love!" As he spoke forth these words, Djalma was superb in his +impetuous sensuality. It is a rare thing to see a young man arrive in +his native purity, at the age in which are developed, in all their +powerful energy, those admirable instincts of love, which God has +implanted in the heart of his creatures, and which, repressed, disguised, +or perverted, may unseat the reason, or generate mad excesses and +frightful crimes--but which, directed towards a great and noble passion, +may and must, by their very violence, elevate man, through devotion and +tenderness, to the limits of the ideal. + +"Oh! this woman--this woman, before whom I am to tremble--and who, in +turn, must tremble before me--where is she?" cried Djalma, with redoubled +excitement. "Shall I ever find her?" + +"One is a good deal, my lord," replied Faringhea, with his sardonic +coolness; "he who looks for one woman, will rarely succeed in this +country; he who seeks women, is only at a loss to choose." + +As the half-caste made this impertinent answer to Djalma, a very elegant +blue-and-white carriage stopped before the garden-gate of the house, +which opened upon a deserted street. It was drawn by a pair of beautiful +blood-horses, of a cream color, with black manes and tails. The +scutcheons on the harness were of silver, as were also the buttons of the +servants' livery, which was blue with white collars. On the blue +hammercloth, also laced with white, as well as on the panels of the +doors, were lozenge-shaped coats of arms, without crest or coronet, as +usually borne by unmarried daughters of noble families. Two women were +in this carriage--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +RISING. + +To explain the arrival of Mdlle. de Cardoville at the garden-door of the +house occupied by Djalma, we must cast a retrospective glance at previous +events. On leaving Doctor Baleinier's, Mdlle. de Cardoville had gone to +take up her residence in the Rue d'Anjou. During the last few months of +her stay with her aunt, Adrienne had secretly caused this handsome +dwelling to be repaired and furnished, and its luxury and elegance were +now increased by all the wonders of the lodge of Saint-Dizier House. The +world found it very strange, that a lady of the age and condition of +Mdlle. de Cardoville should take the resolution of living completely +alone and free, and, in fact, of keeping house exactly like a bachelor, a +young widow, or an emancipated minor. The world pretended not to know +that Mdlle. de Cardoville possessed what is often wanting in men, whether +of age or twice of age--a firm character, a lofty mind, a generous heart, +strong and vigorous good sense. + +Judging that she would require faithful assistance in the internal +management of her house, Adrienne had written to the bailiff of +Cardoville, and his wife, old family servants, to come immediately to +Paris: M. Dupont thus filled the office of steward, and Mme. Dupont that +of housekeeper. An old friend of Adrienne's father, the Count de +Montbron, an accomplished old man, once very much in fashion, and still a +connoisseur in all sorts of elegances, had advised Adrienne to act like a +princess, and take an equerry; recommended for this office a man of good +rearing and ripe age, who, himself an amateur in horses, had been ruined +in England, at Newmarket, the Derby, and Tattersall's, and reduced, as +sometimes happened to gentlemen in that country, to drive the stage- +coaches, thus finding an honest method of earning his bread, and at the +same time gratifying his taste for horses. Such was M. de Bonneville, M. +de Montbron's choice. Both from age and habits, this equerry could +accompany Mdlle. de Cardoville on horseback, and better than any one +else, superintend the stable. He accepted, therefore, the employment +with gratitude, and, thanks to his skill and attention, the equipages of +Mdlle. de Cardoville were not eclipsed in style by anything of the kind +in Paris. Mdlle. de Cardoville had taken back her women, Hebe, +Georgette, and Florine. The latter was at first to have re-entered the +service of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, to continue her part of spy for +the superior of St. Mary's Convent; but, in consequence of the new +direction given by Rodin to the Rennepont affair, it was decided that +Florine, if possible, should return to the service of Mdlle. de +Cardoville. This confidential place, enabling this unfortunate creature +to render important and mysterious services to the people who held her +fate in their hands, forced her to infamous treachery. Unfortunately, +all things favored this machination. We know that Florine, in her +interview with Mother Bunch, a few days after Mdlle. de Cardoville was +imprisoned at Dr. Baleinier's, had yielded to a twinge of remorse, and +given to the sempstress advice likely to be of use to Adrienne's +interests--sending word to Agricola not to deliver to Madame de Saint- +Dizier the papers found in the hiding-place of the pavilion, but only to +entrust them to Mdlle. de Cardoville herself. The latter, afterwards +informed of these details by Mother Bunch, felt a double degree of +confidence and interest in Florine, took her back into her service with +gratitude, and almost immediately charged her with a confidential +mission--that of superintending the arrangements of the house hired for +Djalma's habitation. As for Mother Bunch (yielding to the solicitations +of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and finding she was no longer of use to +Dagobert's wife, of whom we shall speak hereafter), she had consented to +take up her abode in the hotel on the Rue d'Anjou, along with Adrienne, +who with that rare sagacity of the heart peculiar to her, entrusted the +young sempstress, who served her also as a secretary, with the department +of alms-giving. + +Mdlle. de Cardoville had at first thought of entertaining her merely as a +friend, wishing to pay homage in her person to probity with labor, +resignation in sorrow, and intelligence in poverty; but knowing the +workgirl's natural dignity, she feared, with reason that, notwithstanding +the delicate circumspection with which the hospitality would be offered, +Mother Bunch might perceive in it alms in disguise. Adrienne preferred, +therefore, whilst she treated her as a friend, to give her a confidential +employment. In this manner the great delicacy of the needlewoman would +be spared, since she could earn her livelihood by performing duties which +would at the same time satisfy her praiseworthy instincts of charity. In +fact, she could fulfil, better than any one, the sacred mission confided +to her by Adrienne. Her cruel experience in misfortune, the goodness of +her angelic soul, the elevation of her mind, her rare activity, her +penetration with regard to the painful secrets of poverty, her perfect +knowledge of the industrial classes, were sufficient security for the +tact and intelligence with which the excellent creature would second the +generous intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +Let us now speak of the divers events which, on that day, preceded the +coming of Mdlle. de Cardoville to the garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. About ten o'clock in the morning, the blinds of Adrienne's +bedchamber, closely shut, admitted no ray of daylight to this apartment, +which was only lighted by a spherical lamp of oriental alabaster, +suspended from the ceiling by three long silver chains. This apartment, +terminating in a dome, was in the form of a tent with eight sides. From +the ceiling to the floor, it was hung with white silk, covered with long +draperies of muslin, fastened in large puffs to the wall, by bands caught +in at regular distances by plates of ivory. Two doors, also of ivory, +admirably encrusted with mother-of-pearl, led, one to the bath-room, the +other to the toilet-chamber, a sort of little temple dedicated to the +worship of beauty, and furnished as it had been at the pavilion of Saint- +Dizier House. Two other compartments of the wall were occupied by +windows, completely veiled with drapery. Opposite the bed, enclosing +splendid fire-dogs of chased silver, was a chimney-piece of white marble, +like crystallized snow, on which were sculptured two magnificent +caryatides, and a frieze representing birds and flowers. Above this +frieze, carved in openwork with extreme delicacy, was a marble basket, +filled with red camellias. Their leaves of shining green their flowers +of a delicate rosy hue, were the only colors that disturbed the +harmonious whiteness of this virgin retreat. Finally, half surrounded by +waves of white muslin, which poured down from the dome like a mass of +light clouds, the bed was visible--very low, and resting on feet of +carved ivory, which stood upon the ermine carpet that covered the floor. +With the exception of a plinth, also in ivory, admirably inlaid with +mother-of-pearl, the bed was entirely covered with white satin, wadded +and quilted like an immense scent-bag. The cambric sheets, trimmed with +lace, being a little disturbed on one side, discovered the corner of a +white taffety mattress, and a light counterpane of watered stuff--for an +equal temperature always reigned in this apartment, warm as a fine spring +day. + +From a singular scruple, arising from the same sentiment which had caused +Adrienne to have inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work the name +of the maker instead of that of the seller, she had wished all these +articles, so costly and sumptuous, to be manufactured by workmen chosen +amongst the most intelligent, honest, and industrious of their class, +whom she had supplied with the necessary materials. In this manner she +had been able to add to the price of the work the profit usually gained +by the middle man, who speculates in such labor; this notable +augmentation of wages had spread happiness and comfort through a hundred +necessitous families, who, blessing the munificence of Adrienne, gave +her, as she said, the right to enjoy her luxury as a good action. +Nothing could be fresher or more charming than the interior of this +bedchamber. Mdlle. de Cardoville had just awoke; she reposed in the +middle of this flood of muslin, lace, cambric, and white silk, in a +position full of sweet grace. Never during the night did she cover that +beautiful golden hair (a certain recipe, said the Greeks, for preserving +it for a long while in magnificence). Every evening, her women arranged +her long silky curls in flat tresses, forming two broad bands, which, +descending sufficiently low almost entirely to conceal the small ear, the +rosy lobe of which was alone visible, were joined to the large plait +behind the head. + +This head-dress, borrowed from Greek antiquity, set off to admiration the +pure, fine features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and made her look so much +younger, that, instead of eighteen, one would hardly have given her +fifteen years of age. Gathered thus closely about the temples, the hair +lost its transparent and brilliant hues, and would have appeared almost +brown, but for the golden tints which played here and there, amid the +undulations of the tresses. Lulled in that morning torpor, the warm +languor of which is so favorable to soft reveries, Adrienne leaned with +her elbow on the pillow, and her head a little on one side, which +displayed to advantage the ideal contour of her bared neck and shoulders; +her smiling lips, moist and rosy, were, like her cheeks, cold as if they +had just been bathed in ice-water; her snow-white lids half veiled the +large, dark, soft eyes, which now gazed languidly upon vacancy, and now +fixed themselves with pleasure upon the rosy flowers and green leaves in +the basket of camellias. Who can paint the matchless serenity of +Adrienne's awaking--when the fair and chaste soul roused itself in the +fair and chaste body? It was the awakening of a heart as pure as the +fresh and balmy breath of youth, that made her bosom rise and fall in its +white, immaculate purity. What creed, what dogma, what formula, what +religious symbol, oh! paternal and divine Creator! can ever give a more +complete idea of Thy harmonious and ineffable power, than the image of a +young maiden awaking in the bloom of her beauty, and in all the grace of +that modesty with which Thou hast endowed her, seeking, in her dreamy +innocence, for the secret of that celestial instinct of love, which Thou +hast placed in the bosom of all Thy creatures--oh! Thou whose love is +eternal, and goodness infinite! + +The confused thoughts which, since her sleep, had appeared gently to +agitate Adrienne, absorbed her more and more; her head resting on her +bosom, her beautiful arm upon the couch, her features without becoming +precisely sad, assumed an expression of touching melancholy. Her dearest +desire was accomplished; she was about to live independent and alone. +But this affectionate, delicate, expansive, and marvellously complete +nature, felt that God had not given her such rare treasures, to bury them +in a cold and selfish solitude. She felt how much that was great and +beautiful might be inspired by love, both in herself, and in him that +should be worthy of her. Confiding in her courage, and the nobleness of +her character, proud of the example that she wished to give to other +women, knowing that all eyes would be fixed enviously upon her, she felt, +as it were, only too sure of herself; far from fearing that she should +make a bad choice, she rather feared, that she should not find any from +whom to choose, so pure and perfect was her taste. And, even had she met +with her own ideal, she had views so singular and so just, so +extraordinary and yet so sensible, with regard to the independence and +dignity of woman, that, inexorably determined to make no concession upon +this head, she asked herself if the man of her choice would ever accept +the hitherto unheard-of conditions that she meant to impose. In +recalling to her remembrance the possible suitors that she had met in the +world, she remembered also the dark, but true picture, which Rodin had +drawn with so much caustic bitterness. She remembered, too, not without +a certain pride, the encouragement this man had given her, not by +flattery, but by advising her to follow out and accomplish a great, +generous, and beautiful design. The current or the caprice of fancy soon +brought Adrienne to think of Djalma. Whilst she congratulated herself on +having paid to her royal kinsman the duties of a kingly hospitality, the +young lady was far from regarding the prince as the hero of her future. + +And first she said to herself, not unreasonably, that this half-savage +boy, with passions, if not untamable, yet untamed, transported on a +sudden into the midst of a refined civilization, would be inevitably +destined to fiery trials and violent transformations. Now Mdlle. de +Cardoville, having nothing masculine or despotic in her character, had no +wish to civilize the young savage. Therefore, notwithstanding the +interest, or rather because of the interest, which she felt for the young +Indian, she was firmly resolved, not to make herself known to him, till +after the lapse of two or three months; and she determined also, that, +even if Djalma should learn by chance that she was his relation, she +would not receive his visit. She desired, if not to try him, at least to +leave him free in all his acts, so that he might expend the first fire of +his passions, good or bad. But not wishing to abandon him quite without +defence to the perils of Parisian life, she requested the Count de +Montbron, in confidence, to introduce Prince Djalma to the best company +in Paris, and to enlighten him by the counsels of his long experience. +M. de Montbron had received the request of Mdlle. de Cardoville with the +greatest pleasure, taking delight, he said, in starting his royal tiger +in drawing-rooms, and bringing him into contact with the flower of the +fine ladies and gentlemen of Paris, offering at the same time to wager +any amount in favor of his half-savage pupil. + +"As for myself, my dear Count," said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with her +usual frankness, "my resolution is not to be shaken. You have told me +the effect that will be produced in the fashionable world, by the first +appearance of Prince Djalma, an Indian nineteen years of age, of +surprising beauty, proud and wild as a young lion arriving from his +forest; it is new, it is extraordinary, you added; and, therefore, all +the coquetries of civilized life will pursue him with an eagerness which +makes me tremble for him. Now, seriously, my dear count it will not suit +me to appear as the rival of so many fine ladies, who are about to expose +themselves intrepidly to the claws of the young tiger. I take great +interest in him, because he is my cousin, because he is handsome, because +he is brave, and above all because he does not wear that horrible +European dress. No doubt these are rare qualities--but not sufficient to +make me change my mind. Besides, the good old philosopher, my new +friend, has given me advice about this Indian, which you, my dear Count, +who are not a philosopher, will yet approve. It is, for some time, to +receive visits at home, but not to visit other people--which will spare +me the awkwardness of meeting my royal cousin, and allow me to make a +careful choice, even amongst my usual society. As my house will be an +excellent one, my position most unusual, and as I shall be suspected of +all sorts of naughty secrets, I shall be in no want of inquisitive +visitors, who will amuse me a good deal, I assure you." + +And as M. de Montbron asked, if the exile of the poor young Indian tiger +was to last long, Adrienne answered: "As I shall see most of the +persons, to whom you will introduce him, I shall be pleased to hear +different opinions about him. If certain men speak well of him, and +certain women ill, I shall have good hope of him. In a word, the opinion +that I come to, in sifting the true from the false (you may leave that to +my sagacity), will shorten or prolong the exile of my royal cousin." + +Such were the formal intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville with regard to +Djalma, even on the day she went with Florine to the house he occupied. +In a word, she had positively resolved not to be known to him for some +months to come. + +After long reflecting that morning, on the chances that might yet offer +themselves to satisfy the wants of her heart, Adrienne fell into a new, +deep reverie. This charming creature, so full of life and youth, heaved +a low sigh, raised her arms above her head, turned her profile towards +the pillow, and remained for some moments as if powerless and vanquished. +Motionless beneath the white tissues that wrapped her round, she looked +like a fair, marble statue, visible beneath a light layer of snow. +Suddenly, Adrienne raised herself up, drew her hand across her brow, and +rang for her women. At the first silver tone of the bell, the two ivory +doors opened. Georgette appeared on the threshold of the dressing-room, +from which Frisky, a little black and-tan dog, with his golden collar, +escaped with a joyful barking. Hebe appeared at the same time on the +threshold of the bath-room. At the further end of this apartment, +lighted from above, might be seen upon a green mat of Spanish leather, +with golden ornaments, a crystal bath in the form of a long shell. The +three only divisions in this masterpiece of glass work, were concealed by +the elegant device of several large reeds in silver, which rose from the +wide base of the bath, also of wrought silver, representing children and +dolphins playing, among branches of natural coral, and azure shells. +Nothing could be more pleasing than the effect of these purple reeds and +ultramarine shells, upon a dull ground of silver; the balsamic vapor, +which rose from the warm, limpid, and perfumed water, that filled the +crystal shell, spread through the bath-room, and floated like a light +cloud into the sleeping-chamber. + +Seeing Hebe in her fresh and pretty costume, bringing her a long bathing- +gown, hanging upon a bare and dimpled arm, Adrienne said to her: "Where +is Florine, my child?" + +"Madame, she went downstairs two hours ago; she was wanted for something +very pressing." + +"Who wanted her?" + +"The young person who serves Madame as secretary. She went out this +morning very early; and, as soon as she returned, she sent for Florine, +who has not come back since." + +"This absence no doubt relates to some important affair of my angelic +minister of succor," said Adrienne, smiling, and thinking of the +hunchback. Then she made a sign to Hebe to approach her bed. + +About two hours after rising, Adrienne, having had herself dressed, as +usual, with rare elegance, dismissed her women, and sent for Mother +Bunch, whom she treated with marked deference, always receiving her +alone. The young sempstress entered hastily, with a pale, agitated +countenance, and said, in a trembling voice: "Oh, madame! my +presentiments were justified. You are betrayed." + +"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with +surprise. "Who betrays me?" + +"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +DOUBTS. + +On hearing the accusation brought against Rodin, Mdlle. de Cardoville +looked at the denunciator with new astonishment. Before continuing this +scene, we may say that Mother Bunch was no longer clad in her poor, old +clothes, but was dressed in black, with as much simplicity as taste. The +sad color seemed to indicate her renunciation of all human vanity, the +eternal mourning of her heart, and the austere duties imposed upon her by +her devotion to misfortune. With her black gown, she wore a large +falling collar, white and neat as her little gauze cap, with its gray +ribbons, which, revealing her bands of fine brown hair, set off to +advantage her pale and melancholy countenance, with its soft blue eyes. +Her long, delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no +longer, as formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent +whiteness. + +Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely +surprised, Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?" + +"M. Rodin betrays you, madame." + +"M. Rodin? Impossible!" + +"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me." + +"Your presentiments?" + +"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My +heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame." + +"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor +friend?" + +"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear +was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin +showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less." + +"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost +irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this +instance--However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no +matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?" + +"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M. +Rodin had given me, in the name of a charitable person. I did not find +Cephyse at the friend's who had taken care of her; I therefore begged the +portress, to inform my sister that I would call again this morning. That +is what I did; but you must excuse me, madame, some necessary details." + +"Speak, speak, my dear." + +"The young girl who had received my sister," said Mother Bunch, with +embarrassment, casting down her eyes and blushing, "does not lead a very +regular life. A person, with whom she has gone on several parties of +pleasure, one M. Dumoulin, had informed her of the real name of M. Rodin, +who has a kind of lodging in that house, and there goes by the name of +Charlemagne." + +"That is just what he told us at Dr. Baleinier's; and, the day before +yesterday, when I again alluded to the circumstance, he explained to me +the necessity in which he was, for certain reasons, to have a humble +retreat in that remote quarter--and I could not but approve of his +motives." + +"Well, then! yesterday, M. Rodin received a visit from the Abbe +d'Aigrigny." + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame; he remained for two hours shut up with M. Rodin." + +"My child, you must have been deceived." + +"I was told, madame, that the Abbe d'Aigrigny had called in the morning +to see M. Rodin; not finding him at home, he had left with the portress +his name written on a slip of paper, with the words, 'I shall return in +two hours.' The girl of whom I spoke, madame, had seen this slip of +paper. As all that concerns M. Rodin appears mysterious enough, she had +the curiosity to wait for M. d'Aigrigny in the porter's lodge, and, about +two hours afterwards, he indeed returned, and saw M. Rodin." + +"No, no," said Adrienne, shuddering; "it is impossible. There must be +some mistake." + +"I think not, madame; for, knowing how serious such a discovery would be, +I begged the young girl to describe to me the appearance of M. +d'Aigrigny." + +"Well?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, she told me, is about forty years of age. He is +tall and upright, dresses plainly, but with care; has gray eyes, very +large and piercing, thick eyebrows, chestnut-colored hair, a face closely +shaved, and a very decided aspect." + +"It is true," said Adrienne, hardly able to believe what she heard. "The +description is exact." + +"Wishing to have all possible details," resumed Mother Bunch, "I asked +the portress if M. Rodin and the Abbe d'Aigrigny appeared to be at +variance when they quitted the house? She replied no, but that the Abbe +said to M. Rodin, as they parted at the door: 'I will write to you +tomorrow, as agreed.'" + +"Is it a dream? Good heaven!" said Adrienne, drawing her hands across +her forehead in a sort of stupor. "I cannot doubt your word, my poor +friend; and yet it is M. Rodin who himself sent you to that house, to +give assistance to your sister: would he have wilfully laid open to you +his secret interviews with the Abbe d'Aigrigny? It would have been bad +policy in a traitor." + +"That is true, and the same reflection occurred to me. And yet the +meeting of these two men appeared so dangerous to you, madame, that I +returned home full of terror." + +Characters of extreme honesty are very hard to convince of the treachery +of others: the more infamous the deception, the more they are inclined to +doubt it. Adrienne was one of these characters, rectitude being a prime +quality of her mind. Though deeply impressed by the communication, she +remarked: "Come, my dear, do not let us frighten ourselves too soon, or +be over-hasty in believing evil. Let us try to enlighten ourselves by +reasoning, and first of all remember facts. M. Rodin opened for me the +doors of Dr. Baleinier's asylum; in my presence, he brought, his charge +against the Abbe d'Aigrigny; he forced the superior of the convent to +restore Marshal Simon's daughters, he succeeded in discovering the +retreat of Prince Djalma--he faithfully executed my intentions with +regard to my young cousin; only yesterday, he gave me the most useful +advice. All this is true--is it not?" + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Now suppose that M. Rodin, putting things in their worst light, had some +after-thought--that he hopes to be liberally rewarded, for instance; +hitherto, at least, he has shown complete disinterestedness." + +"That also is true, madame," said poor Mother Bunch, obliged, like +Adrienne, to admit the evidence of fixed facts. + +"Now let us look to the possibility of treachery. Unite with the Abbe +d'Aigrigny to betray me! Betray me?--how? and for what purpose? What +have I to fear? Is it not the Abbe d'Aigrigny, on the contrary, is it +not Madame de Saint-Dizier, who have to render an account for the +injuries they have done me?" + +"But, then, madame, how do you explain the meeting of these two men, who +have so many motives for mutual aversion? May there not be some dark +project still behind? Besides, madame, I am not the only one to think +so." + +"How is that?" + +"This morning, on my return, I was so much agitated, that Mdlle. Florine +asked me the cause of my trouble. I know, madame, how much she is +devoted to you." + +"Nobody could be more so; only recently, you yourself informed me of the +signal service she rendered, during my confinement at Dr. Baleinier's." + +"Well, madame, this morning, on my return, thinking it necessary to have +you informed as soon as possible, I told all to Mdlle. Florine. Like me +--even more, perhaps--she was terrified at the meeting of Rodin and M. +d'Aigrigny. + +"After a moment's reflection, she said to me: 'It is, I think, useless to +disturb my mistress at present; it can be of no importance whether she is +informed of this treachery two or three hours sooner or later; during +that time I may be able to discover something more. I have an idea, +which I think a good one. Make my excuses to my mistress; I shall soon +be back.' Then Florine sent for a hackney-coach, and went out." + +"Florine is an excellent girl," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, with a smile, +for further reflection had quite reassured her: "but, on this occasion, I +think that her zeal and good heart have deceived her, as they have you, +my poor friend. Do you know, that we are two madcaps, you and I, not to +have thought of one thing, which would have put us quite at our ease?" + +"How so, madame?" + +"The Abbe d'Aigrigny fears M. Rodin; he may have sought him out, to +entreat his forbearance. Do you not find this explanation both +satisfactory and reasonable?" + +"Perhaps so, madame," said Mother Bunch, after a moment's reflection; +"yes, it is probable." But after another silence, and as if yielding to +a conviction superior to every possible argument, she exclaimed: "And +yet, no; believe me, madame, you are deceived. I feel it. All +appearances may be against what I affirm; yet, believe me, these +presentiments are too strong not to be true. And have you not guessed +the most secret instincts of my heart? Why should I not be able to guess +the dangers with which you are menaced?" + +"What do you say? what have I guessed?" replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, +involuntarily impressed by the other's tone of conviction and alarm. + +"What have you guessed?" resumed the latter. "All the troublesome +susceptibility of an unfortunate creature, to whom destiny has decreed a +life apart. If I have hitherto been silent, it is not from ignorance of +what I owe you. Who told you, madame, that the only way to make me +accept your favors without blushing, was to give me some employment, that +would enable me to soothe the misfortunes I had so long shared? Who told +you, when you wished me to have a seat at your table, and to treat as +your friend the poor needlewoman, in whose person you sought to honor, +resignation and honest industry--who told you, when I answered with tears +of gratitude and regret, that it was not false modesty, but a +consciousness of my own ridiculous deformity, that made me refuse your +offer? Who told you that, but for this, I should have accepted it +proudly, in the name of all my low-born sisters? But you replied to me +with the touching words: 'I understand your refusal, my friend; it is not +occasioned by false modesty, but by a sentiment of dignity that I love +and respect.' Who told you," continued the workgirl, with increasing +animation, "that I should be so happy to find a little solitary retreat +in this magnificent house, which dazzles me with its splendor? Who +guided you in the choice of the apartment (still far too good) that you +have provided for me? Who taught you, that, without envying the beauty +of the charming creatures that surround you, and whom I love because they +love you, I should always feel, by an involuntary comparison, embarrassed +and ashamed before them? Who told you therefore to send them away, +whenever you wished to speak with me? Yes! who has revealed to you all +the painful and secret susceptibilities of a position like mine! Who has +revealed them to you? God, no doubt! who in His infinite majesty creates +worlds, and yet cares for the poor little insect hidden beneath the +grass. And you think, that the gratitude of a heart you have understood +so well, cannot rise in its turn to the knowledge of what may be hurtful +to you? No, no, lady; some people have the instinct of self- +preservation; others have the still more precious instinct that enables +them to preserve those they love. God has given me this instinct. I +tell you that you are betrayed!" And with animated look, and cheeks +slightly colored with emotion, the speaker laid such stress upon the last +words, and accompanied them with such energetic gesture, that Mdlle. de +Cardoville already shaken by the girl's warmth, began almost to share in +her apprehensions. Then, although she had before learned to appreciate +the superior intelligence of this poor child of the people, Mdlle. de +Cardoville had never till now heard her friend express herself with so +much eloquence--an eloquence, too, that was inspired by the noblest +sentiments. This circumstance added to the impression made upon +Adrienne. But at the moment she was about to answer, a knock was heard +at the door of the room, and Florine entered. + +On seeing the alarmed countenance of her waiting-maid, Mdlle. de +Cardoville said hastily: "Well, Florine! what news? Whence come you, my +child?" + +"From Saint-Dizier House, madame." + +"And why did you go there?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise. + +"This morning," said Florine, glancing at the workgirl, "madame, there, +confided to me her suspicions and uneasiness. I shared in them. The +visit of the Abbe d'Aigrigny to M. Rodin appeared to me very serious. I +thought, if it should turn out that M. Rodin had been during the last few +days to Saint-Dizier House, there would be no longer any doubt of his +treachery." + +"True," said Adrienne, more and more uneasy. "Well?" + +"As I had been charged to superintend the removal from the lodge, I knew +that several things had remained there. To obtain admittance, I had to +apply to Mrs. Grivois. I had thus a pretext for returning to the hotel." + +"What next, Florine, what next?" + +"I endeavored to get Mrs. Grivois to talk of M. Rodin; but it was in +vain." + +"She suspected you," said the workgirl. "It was to be anticipated." + +"I asked her," continued Florine, "if they had seen M. Rodin at the hotel +lately. She answered evasively. Then despairing of getting anything out +of her," continued Florine, "I left Mrs. Grivois, and that my visit might +excite no suspicion, I went to the pavilion--when, as I turn down the +avenue--whom do I see? why, M. Rodin himself, hastening towards the +little garden-door, wishing no doubt to depart unnoticed by that way." + +"Madame, you hear," cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with a +supplicating air; "such evidence should convince you." + +"M. Rodin at the Princess de Saint-Dizier's!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +whose glance, generally so mild, now suddenly flashed with vehement +indignation. Then she added, in a tone of considerable emotion, +"Continue, Florine." + +"At sight of M. Rodin, I stopped," proceeded Florine, "and keeping a +little on one side, I gained the pavilion without being seen. I looked +out into the street, through the closed blinds, and perceived a hackney +coach. It was waiting for M. Rodin, for, a minute after, he got into it, +saying to the coachman, 'No. 39, Rue Blanche' + +"The prince's!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Yes, M. Rodin was to see him to-day," said Adrienne, reflecting. + +"No doubt he betrays you, madame, and the prince also; the latter will be +made his victim more easily than you." + +"Shame! shame!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, on a sudden, as she rose, all +her features contracted with painful anger. "After such a piece of +treachery, it is enough to make us doubt of everything--even of +ourselves." + +"Oh, madame! is it not dreadful?" said Mother Bunch, shuddering. + +"But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe +d'Aigrigny?" wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville. "Of a truth, it is enough to +make one lose one's reason. It is an abyss--but, oh! how frightful is +doubt!" + +"As I returned," said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion on +her mistress, "I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not a +minute to lose." + +"What do you mean?" said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise. + +"M. Rodin will soon be alone with the prince," said Florine. + +"No doubt," replied Adrienne. + +"The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse. +It is there that he will receive M. Rodin." + +"What then?" resumed Adrienne. + +"This greenhouse, which I had arranged according to your orders, has only +one issue--by a door leading into a little lane. The gardener gets in +that way every morning, so as not to have to pass through the apartments. +Having finished his work, he does not return thither during the day." + +"What do you mean? what is your project?" said Adrienne, looking at +Florine with growing surprise. + +"The plants are so disposed, that, I think, if even the shade were not +there, which screens the glass that separates the saloon from the +greenhouse, one might get near enough to hear what was passing in the +room, without being seen. When I was superintending the arrangements, I +always entered by this greenhouse door. The gardener had one key, and I +another. Luckily, I have not yet parted with mine. Within an hour, you +may know how far to trust M. Rodin. If he betrays the prince, he betrays +you also." + +"What say you?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville. + +"Set out instantly with me; we reach the side door; I enter alone, for +precaution sake--if all is right, I return--" + +"You would have me turn spy?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, haughtily, +interrupting Florine. "You cannot think it. + +"I beg your pardon, madame," said the girl, casting down her eyes, with +confused and sorrowful air; "you had suspicions, and me seems 'tis the +only way to confirm or destroy them." + +"Stoop to listen to a conversation--never!" replied Adrienne. + +"Madame," said Mother Bunch, suddenly, after same moments' thought, +"permit me to tell you that Mdlle. Florine is right. The plan proposed +is a painful one, but it is the only way in which you can clear up, +perhaps, for ever, your doubts as to M. Rodin. Notwithstanding the +evidence of facts, in spite of the almost certainty of my presentiments, +appearances may deceive us. I was the first who accused M. Rodin to you. +I should not forgive myself all the rest of my life, did I accuse him +wrongfully. Beyond doubt, it is painful, as you say, madame, to listen +to a conversation--" Then, with a violent effort to console herself, she +added, as she strove to repress her tears, "Yet, as your safety is at +stake, madame--for, if this be treachery, the future prospect is +dreadful--I will go in your place--to--" + +"Not a word more, I entreat you," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, +interrupting. "Let you, my poor friend, do for me what I thought +degrading to do myself? Never!" + +Then, turning to Florine, she added, "Tell M. de Bonneville to have the +carriage got ready on the instant." + +"You consent, then!" cried Florine, clasping her hands, and not seeking +to conceal her joy; and her eyes also became full of tears. + +"Yes, I consent," answered Adrienne, with emotion. "If it is to be war-- +war to the knife, that they would wage with me--I must be prepared for +it; and, come to think of it, it would only be weakness and folly not to +put myself on my guard. No doubt this step costs me much, and is very +repugnant to me, but it is the only way to put an end to suspicions that +would be a continual torment to me, and perhaps to prevent still greater +evils. Yes! for many important reasons, this interview of M. Rodin with +Prince Djalma may be doubly decisive to me--as to the confidence, or the +inexorable hate, that I must henceforth feel for M. Rodin. So, Florine, +quick!--my cloak and bonnet, and the carriage. You will go with me. As +for you, my dear, pray wait for me here," she added, turning to the work- +girl. + +Half an hour after this conversation, Adrienne's carriage stopped, as we +have before seen, at the little garden-gate of the house in the Rue +Blanche. Florine entered the greenhouse and soon returned to her +mistress. "The shade is down, madame. M. Rodin has just entered the +prince's room." Mdlle. de Cardoville was, therefore, present, though +invisible, at the following scene, which took place between Rodin and +Djalma. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THE LETTER. + +Some minutes before the entrance of Mdlle. de Cardoville into the +greenhouse, Rodin had been introduced by Faringhea into the presence of +the prince, who, still under the influence of the burning excitement into +which he had been plunged by the words of the half-caste, did not appear +to perceive the Jesuit. The latter, surprised at the animated expression +of Djalma's countenance, and his almost frantic air, made a sign of +interrogation to Faringhea, who answered him privately in the following +symbolical manner:--After laying his forefinger on his head and heart, he +pointed to the fire burning in the chimney, signifying by his pantomimic +action that the head and heart of Djalma were both in flames. No doubt +Rodin understood him, for an imperceptible smile of satisfaction played +upon his wan lips; then he said aloud to Faringhea, "I wish to be alone +with the prince. Let down the shade and see that we are not +interrupted." The half-caste bowed, and touched a spring near the sheet +of plate-glass, which slid into the wall as the blind descended; then, +again bowing, Faringhea left the room. It was shortly after that Mdlle. +de Cardoville and Florine entered the greenhouse, which was now only +separated from the room in which was Djalma, by the transparent thickness +of a shade of white silk, embroidered with large colored birds. The +noise of the door, which Faringhea closed as he went out, seemed to +recall the young Indian to himself; his features, though still animated, +recovered their habitual expression of mildness and gentleness; he +started, drew his hand across his brow, looked around him, as if waking +up from a deep reverie, and then, advancing towards Rodin, with an air as +respectful as confused, he said to him, using the expression commonly +applied to old men in his country, "Pardon me, father." Still following +the customs of his nation, so full of deference towards age, he took +Rodin's hand to raise it to his lips, but the Jesuit drew back a step, +and refused his homage. + +"For what do you ask pardon, my dear prince?" said he to Djalma. + +"When you entered, I was in a dream; I did not come to meet you. Once +more, pardon me, father!" + +"Once more, I forgive you with all my heart, my dear prince. But let us +have some talk. Pray resume your place on the couch, and your pipe, too, +if you like it." + +But Djalma, instead of adopting the suggestion, and throwing himself on +the divan, according to his custom, insisted on seating himself in a +chair, notwithstanding all the persuasions of "the Old Man with the Good +Heart," as he always called the Jesuit. + +"Really, your politeness troubles me, my dear prince," said Rodin; "you +are here at home in India; at least, we wish you to think so." + +"Many things remind me of my country," said Djalma, in a mild grave tone. +"Your goodness reminds me of my father, and of him who was a father to +me," added the Indian, as he thought of Marshal Simon, whose arrival in +Paris had been purposely concealed from him. + +After a moment's silence, he resumed in a tone full of affectionate +warmth, as he stretched out his hand to Rodin, "You are come, and I am +happy!" + +"I understand your joy, my dear prince, for I come to take you out of +prison--to open your cage for you. I had begged you to submit to a brief +seclusion, entirely for your own interest." + +"Can I go out to-morrow?" + +"To-day, my dear prince, if you please." + +The young Indian reflected for a moment, and then resumed, "I must have +friends, since I am here in a palace that does not belong to me." + +"Certainly you have friends--excellent friends," answered Rodin. At +these words, Djalma's countenance seemed to acquire fresh beauty. The +most noble sentiments were expressed in his fine features; his large +black eyes became slightly humid, and, after another interval of silence, +he rose and said to Rodin with emotion: "Come!" + +"Whither, dear prince?" said the other, much surprised. + +"To thank my friends. I have waited three days. It is long." + +"Permit me dear prince--I have much to tell you on this subject--please +to be seated." + +Djalma resumed his seat with docility. Rodin continued: "It is true that +you have friends; or rather, you have a friend. Friends are rare." + +"What are you?" + +"Well, then, you have two friends, my dear prince--myself, whom you know, +and one other, whom you do not know, and who desires to remain unknown to +you." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" answered Rodin, after a moment's embarrassment. "Because the +happiness he feels in giving you these proofs of his friendship and even +his own tranquillity, depend upon preserving this mystery." + +"Why should there be concealment when we do good?" + +"Sometimes, to conceal the good we do, my dear prince." + +"I profit by this friendship; why should he conceal himself from one?" +These repeated questions of the young Indian appeared to puzzle Rodin, +who, however, replied: "I have told you, my dear prince, that your secret +friend would perhaps have his tranquillity compromised, if he were +known." + +"If he were known--as my friend?" + +"Exactly so, dear prince." + +The countenance of Djalma immediately assumed an appearance of sorrowful +dignity; he raised his head proudly, and said in a stern and haughty +voice: "Since this friend hides himself from me, he must either be +ashamed of me, or there is reason for me to be ashamed of him. I only +accept hospitality from those who are worthy of me, and who think me +worthy of them. I leave this house." So saying, Djalma rose with such +an air of determination, that Rodin exclaimed: "Listen to me, my dear +prince. Allow me to tell you, that your petulance and touchiness are +almost incredible. Though we have endeavored to remind you of your +beautiful country, we are here in Europe, in France, in the centre of +Paris. This consideration may perhaps a little modify your views. +Listen to me, I conjure you." + +Notwithstanding his complete ignorance of certain social +conventionalisms, Djalma had too much good sense and uprightness, not to +appreciate reason, when it appeared reasonable. The words of Rodin +calmed him. With that ingenuous modesty, with which natures full of +strength and generosity are almost always endowed, he answered mildly: +"You are right, father. I am no longer in my own country. Here the +customs are different. I will reflect upon it." + +Notwithstanding his craft and suppleness, Rodin sometimes found himself +perplexed by the wild and unforseen ideas of the young Indian. Thus he +saw, to his great surprise, that Djalma now remained pensive for some +minutes, after which he resumed in a calm but firm tone: "I have obeyed +you, father: I have reflected." + +"Well, my dear prince?" + +"In no country in the world, under no pretext, should a man of honor +conceal his friendship for another man of honor." + +"But suppose there should be danger in avowing this friendship?" said +Rodin, very uneasy at the turn the conversation was taking. Djalma eyed +the Jesuit with contemptuous astonishment, and made no reply. + +"I understand your silence, my dear prince: a brave man ought to defy +danger. True; but if it should be you that the danger threatens, in case +this friendship were discovered, would not your man of honor be +excusable, even praiseworthy, to persist in remaining unknown?" + +"I accept nothing from a friend, who thinks me capable of denying him +from cowardice." + +"Dear prince--listen to me." + +"Adieu, father." + +"Yet reflect!" + +"I have said it," replied Djalma, in an abrupt and almost sovereign tone, +as he walked towards the door. + +"But suppose a woman were concerned," cried Rodin, driven to extremity, +and hastening after the young Indian, for he really feared that Djalma +might rush from the house, and thus overthrow all his projects. + +At the last words of Rodin the Indian stopped abruptly. "A woman!" said +he, with a start, and turning red. "A woman is concerned?" + +"Why, yes! suppose it were a woman," resumed Rodin, "would you not then +understand her reserve, and the secrecy with which she is obliged to +surround the marks of affection she wishes to give you?" + +"A woman! repeated Djalma, in a trembling voice, clasping his hands in +adoration; and his beautiful countenance was expressive of the deepest +emotion. "A woman!" said he again. "A Parisian?" + +"Yes, my dear prince, as you force me to this indiscretion, I will +confess to you that your friend is a real Parisian--a noble matron, +endowed with the highest virtues--whose age alone merits all your +respect." + +"She is very old, then?" cried poor Djalma, whose charming dream was thus +abruptly dispelled. + +"She may be a few years older than I am," answered Rodin, with an +ironical smile, expecting to see the young man express a sort of comical +disappointment or angry regret. + +But it was not so. To the passionate enthusiasm of love, which had for a +moment lighted up the prince's features, there now succeeded a respectful +and touching expression. He looked at Rodin with emotion, and said to +him in a broken voice: "This woman, is then, a mother to me?" + +It is impossible to describe with what a pious, melancholy, and tender +charm the Indian uttered the word mother. + +"You have it, my dear prince; this respectable lady wishes to be a mother +to you. But I may not reveal to you the cause of the affection she feels +for you. Only, believe me--this affection is sincere, and the cause +honorable. If I do not tell you her secret, it is that, with us, the +secrets of women, young or old, are equally sacred." + +"That is right, and I will respect it. Without seeing her, I will love +her--as I love God, without seeing Him." + +"And now, my dear prince, let me tell you what are the intentions of your +maternal friend. This house will remain at your disposal, as long as you +like it; French servants, a carriage, and horses, will be at your orders; +the charges of your housekeeping will be paid for you. Then, as the son +of a king should live royalty, I have left in the next room a casket +containing five hundred Louis; every month a similar sum will be +provided: if it should not be found sufficient for your little +amusements, you will tell me, and it shall be augmented." + +At a movement of Djalma, Rodin hastened to add: "I must tell you at once, +my dear prince, that your delicacy may be quite at ease. First of all, +you may accept anything from a mother; next, as in about three months you +will come into possession of an immense inheritance, it will be easy for +you, if you feel the obligation a burden--and the sum cannot exceed, at +the most, four or five thousand Louis--to repay these advances. Spare +nothing, then, but satisfy all your fancies. You are expected to appear +in the great world of Paris, in a style becoming the son of a king who +was called the Father of the Generous. So once again I conjure you not +to be restrained by a false delicacy; if this sum should not be +sufficient--" + +"I will ask for more. My mother is right; the son of a monarch ought to +live royally." + +Such was the answer of the Indian, made with perfect simplicity, and +without any appearance of astonishment at these magnificent offers. This +was natural. Djalma would have done for others what they were doing for +him, for the traditions of the prodigal magnificence and splendid +hospitality of Indian princes are well known. Djalma had been as moved +as grateful, on hearing that a woman loved him with maternal affection. +As for the luxury with which she nought to surround him, he accepted it +without astonishment and without scruple. This resignation, again, +somewhat disconcerted Rodin, who had prepared many excellent arguments to +persuade the Indian to accept his offers. + +"Well, then, it's all agreed, my dear prince," resumed the Jesuit. "Now, +as you must see the world, it's just as well to enter by the best door, +as we say. One of the friends of your maternal protectress, the Count de +Montbron, an old nobleman of the greatest experience, and belonging to +the first society, will introduce you in some of the best houses in +Paris." + +"Will you not introduce me, father?" + +"Alas! my dear prince, look at me. Tell me, if you think I am fitted +for such an office. No. no; I live alone and retired from the world. +And then," added Rodin, after a short silence, fixing a penetrating, +attentive, and curious look upon the prince, as if he would have +subjected him to a sort of experiment by what follows; "and then, you +see, M. de Montbron will be better able than I should, in the world you +are about to enter, to enlighten you as to the snares that will be laid +for you. For if you have friends, you have also enemies--cowardly +enemies, as you know, who have abused your confidence in an infamous +manner, and have made sport of you. And as, unfortunately, their power +is equal to their wickedness, it would perhaps be more prudent in you to +try to avoid them--to fly, instead of resisting them openly." + +At the remembrance of his enemies, at the thought of flying from them, +Djalma trembled in every limb; his features became of a lurid paleness; +his eyes wide open, so that the pupil was encircled with white, sparkled +with lurid fire; never had scorn, hatred, and the desire of vengeance, +expressed themselves so terribly on a human face. His upper lip, blood- +red, was curled convulsively, exposing a row of small, white, and close- +set teeth, and giving to his countenance lately so charming, an air of +such animal ferocity, that Rodin started from his seat, and exclaimed: +"What is the matter, prince? You frighten me." + +Djalma did not answer. Half leaning forward, with his hands clinched in +rage, he seemed to cling to one of the arms of the chair, for fear of +yielding to a burst of terrific fury. At this moment, the amber +mouthpiece of his pipe rolled, by chance, under one of his feet; the +violent tension, which contracted all the muscles of the young Indian, +was so powerful, and notwithstanding his youth and his light figure, he +was endowed with such vigor, that with one abrupt stamp he powdered to +dust the piece of amber, in spite of its extreme hardness. + +"In the name of heaven, what is the matter, prince?" cried Rodin. + +"Thus would I crush my cowardly enemies!" exclaimed Djalma, with menacing +and excited look. Then, as if these words had brought his rage to a +climax, he bounded from his seat, and, with haggard eyes, strode about +the room for some seconds in all directions, as if he sought for some +weapon, and uttered from time to time a hoarse cry, which he endeavored +to stifle by thrusting his clinched fist against his mouth, whilst his +jaws moved convulsively. It was the impotent rage of a wild beast, +thirsting for blood. Yet, in all this, the young Indian preserved a +great and savage beauty; it was evident that these instincts of +sanguinary ardor and blind intrepidity, now excited to this pitch by +horror of treachery and cowardice, when applied to war, or to those +gigantic Indian hunts, which are even more bloody than a battle, must +make of Djalma what he really was a hero. + +Rodin admired, with deep and ominous joy, the fiery impetuosity of +passion in the young Indian, for, under various conceivable +circumstances, the effect must be terrible. Suddenly, to the Jesuit's +great surprise, the tempest was appeased. Djalma's fury was calmed thus +instantaneously, because refection showed him how vain it was: ashamed of +his childish violence, he cast down his eyes. His countenance remained +pale and gloomy; and, with a cold tranquillity, far more formidable than +the violence to which he had yielded, he said to Rodin: "Father, you will +this day lead me to meet my enemies." + +"In what end, my dear prince? What would you do?" + +"Kill the cowards!" + +"Kill them! you must not think of it." + +"Faringhea will aid me." + +"Remember, you are not on the banks of the Ganges, and here one does not +kill an enemy like a hunted tiger." + +"One fights with a loyal enemy, but one kills a traitor like an accursed +dog," replied Djalma, with as much conviction as tranquillity. + +"Ah, prince, whose father was the Father of the Generous," said Rodin, in +a grave voice; "what pleasure can you find in striking down creatures as +cowardly as they are wicked?" + +"To destroy what is dangerous, is a duty." + +"So prince, you seek for revenge." + +"I do not revenge myself on a serpent," said the Indian, with haughty +bitterness; "I crush it." + +"But, my dear prince, here we cannot get rid of our enemies in that +manner. If we have cause of complaint--" + +"Women and children complain," said Djalma, interrupting Rodin: "men +strike." + +"Still on the banks of the Ganges, my dear prince. Here society takes +your cause into its own hands, examines, judges, and if there be good +reason, punishes." + +"In my own quarrel, I am both judge and executioner." + +"Pray listen to me; you have escaped the odious snares of your enemies, +have you not?--Well! suppose it were thanks to the devotion of the +venerable woman who has for you the tenderness of a mother, and that she +were to ask you to forgive them--she, who saved you from their hands-- +what would you do then?" + +The Indian hung his head, and was silent. Profiting by his hesitation, +Rodin continued: "I might say to you that I know your enemies, but that +in the dread of seeing you commit some terrible imprudence, I would +conceal their names from you forever. But no! I swear to you, that if +the respectable person, who loves you as her son, should find it either +right or useful that I should tell you their names, I will do so--until +she has pronounced, I must be silent." + +Djalma looked at Rodin with a dark and wrathful air. At this moment, +Faringhea entered, and said to Rodin: "A man with a letter, not finding +you at home, has been sent on here. Am I to receive it? He says it +comes from the Abbe d'Aigrigny. + +"Certainly," answered Rodin. "That is," he added, "with the prince's +permission." + +Djalma nodded in reply; Faringhea went out. + +"You will excuse what I have done, dear prince. I expected this morning +a very important letter. As it was late in coming to hand, I ordered it +to be sent on." + +A few minutes after, Faringhea returned with the letter, which he +delivered to Rodin--and the half-caste again withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +ADRIENNE AND DJALMA. + +When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbe +d'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be looking for +something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in the pocket +behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what he sought, he +laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over with both hands, +with an air of regret and uneasiness. The divers movements of this +pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned by the +exclamations. + +"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!" + +"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in +which he had been plunged for some minutes. + +"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile +accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I have +forgotten or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the very +poor eyesight that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely +impossible for me to read this most important letter--and an immediate +answer is expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Times +presses; it is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying great +stress on his words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince +might remark it; "if only some one would render me the service to read it +for me; but there is no one--no--one!" + +"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I have +finished it, I shall forget what I have read." + +"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared to +him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to read +this letter." + +"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly. + +"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if speaking +to himself, "why not?" + +And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, my +dear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service." + +So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud as +follows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only be +considered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part. + +"'Here is the last proposition I have to make. It may be as fruitless as +the step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis. + +"'After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would write +to you. I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum. + +"'First of all, a piece of advice. Beware! If you are determined to +maintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatred of +those whom you so foolishly seek to protect. There are a thousand ways +to ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects. It will +be proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which you now +pretend to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" Though +Djalma had the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subject of +this letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbear turning +his head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the last passage. + +"Oh, yes! it relates to me. Such as you see me, my dear prince," added +he, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity." + +"And who are these people that you protect?" + +"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if he had been +embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect? Hem--hem--I +will tell you. They are poor devils without resources; good people +without a penny, having only a just cause on their side, in a lawsuit in +which they are engaged. They are threatened with destruction by powerful +parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latter are known to +me, and I am able to unmask them. What else could have been? Being +myself poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the side of the poor +and weak. But continue, I beg of you." + +Djalma resumed: "'You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persist +in your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whom +you call your friends. They might more justly be termed your dupes, for +your disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere. It must +therefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity. + +"'Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you ample compensation-- +with this difference, that your hopes are now entirely founded on the +probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtful chance at the best, +whereas our offers will be realized on the instant. To speak clearly, +this is what we ask, what we exact of you. This very night, before +twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to return for six +months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, and looked at +Rodin. + +"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would be +judged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them. You see +how it is, my dear prince," added Rodin, with bitter indignation. "But +please continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though, +indeed, such impudence disgusts me." + +Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Paris for +six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends in Germany. +You will there be received with generous hospitality, but forcibly +detained until the expiration of the term.'" + +"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin. + +"'On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francs +a month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francs +down, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole to be +completely secured to you. Finally, at the end of the six months, we +will place you in a position both honorable and independent.'" + +Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said to +him: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince. Read to the end, and +it will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of our +civilization." + +Djalma resumed: "'You know well enough the course of affairs, and what we +are, to feel that in providing for your absence, we only wish to get rid +of an enemy, not very dangerous, but rather troublesome. Do not be +blinded by your first success. The results of your denunciation will be +stifled, because they are calumnious. The judge who received your +evidence will soon repent his odious partiality. You may make what use +you please of this letter. We know what we write, to whom we write, and +how we write. You will receive this letter at three o'clock; if by four +o'clock we have not your full and complete acceptance, written with your +own hand at the bottom of this letter, war must commence between us--and +not from to-morrow, but on the instant.'" + +Having finished reading the letter, Djalma looked at Rodin, who said to +him: "Permit me to summon Faringhea." + +He rang the bell, and the half-caste appeared. Rodin took the letter +from the hands of Djalma, tore it into halves, rubbed it between his +palms, so as to make a sort of a ball, and said to the half-caste, as he +returned it to him: "Give this palter to the person who waits for it, +and tell him that is my only answer to his shameless and insolent letter; +you understand me--this shameless and insolent letter." + +"I understand." said the half-caste; and he went out. + +"This will perhaps be a dangerous war for you, father, said the Indian, +with interest. + +"Yes, dear prince, it may be dangerous, but I am not like you; I have no +wish to kill my enemies, because they are cowardly and wicked. I fight +them under the shield of the law. Imitate me in this." Then, seeing +that the countenance of Djalma darkened, he added: "I am wrong. I will +advise you no more on this subject. Only, let us defer the decision to +the judgment of your noble and motherly protectress. I shall see her to- +morrow; if she consents, I will tell you the names of your enemies. If +not--not." + +"And this woman, this second mother," said Djalma, "is her character +such, that I can rely on her judgment?" + +"She!" cried Rodin, clasping his hands, and speaking with increased +excitement. "Why, she is the most noble, the most generous, the most +valiant being upon earth!--why, if you were really her son, and she loved +you with all the strength of maternal affection, and a case arose in +which you had to choose between an act of baseness and death, she would +say to you: 'Die!' though she might herself die with you." + +"Oh, noble woman! so was my mother!" cried Djalma, with enthusiasm. + +"Yes," resumed Rodin, with growing energy, as he approached the window +concealed by the shade, towards which he threw an oblique and anxious +glance, "if you would imagine your protectress, think only of courage, +uprightness, and loyalty personified. Oh! she has the chivalrous +frankness of the brave man, joined with the high-souled dignity of the +woman, who not only never in her life told a falsehood, never concealed a +single thought, but who would rather die than give way to the least of +those sentiments of craft and dissimulation, which are almost forced upon +ordinary women by the situation in which they are placed." + +It is difficult to express the admiration which shone upon the +countenance of Djalma, as he listened to this description. His eyes +sparkled, his cheeks glowed, his heart palpitated with enthusiasm. + +"That is well, noble heart!" said Rodin to him, drawing still nearer to +the blind; "I love to see your soul sparkle through your eyes, on hearing +me speak thus of your unknown protectress. Oh! but she is worthy of the +pious adoration which noble hearts and great characters inspire!" + +"Oh! I believe you," cried Djalma, with enthusiasm; "my heart is full of +admiration and also of astonishment, for my mother is no more, and yet +such a woman exists!" + +"Yes, she exists. For the consolation of the afflicted, for the glory of +her sex, she exists. For the honor of truth, and the shame of falsehood, +she exists. No lie, no disguise, has ever tainted her loyalty, brilliant +and heroic as the sword of a knight. It is but a few days ago that this +noble woman spoke to me these admirable words, which, in all my life, I +shall not forget: 'Sir,' she said, 'if ever I suspect any one that I love +or esteem--'" + +Rodin did not finish. The shade, so violently shaken that the spring +broke, was drawn up abruptly, and, to the great astonishment of Djalma, +Mdlle. de Cardoville appeared before him. Adrienne's cloak had fallen +from her shoulders, and in the violence of the movement with which she +had approached the blind, her bonnet, the strings of which were untied, +had also fallen. Having left home suddenly, with only just time to throw +a mantle over the picturesque and charming costume which she often chose +to wear when alone, she appeared so radiant with beauty to Djalma's +dazzled eyes, in the centre of those leaves and flowers, that the Indian +believed himself under the influence of a dream. + +With clasped hands, eyes wide open, the body slightly bent forward, as if +in the act of prayer, he stood petrified with admiration, Mdlle. de +Cardoville, much agitated, and her countenance glowing with emotion, +remained on the threshold of the greenhouse, without entering the room. +All this had passed in less time than it takes to describe it. Hardly +had the blind been raised, than Rodin, feigning surprise, exclaimed: "You +here, madame?" + +"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, in an agitated voice, "I come to terminate the +phrase which you have commenced. I told you, that when a suspicion +crossed my mind, I uttered it aloud to the person by whom it was +inspired. Well! I confess it: I have failed in this honesty. I came +here as a spy upon you, when your answer to the Abbe d'Aigrigny was +giving me a new pledge of your devotion and sincerity. I doubted your +uprightness at the moment when you were bearing testimony to my +frankness. For the first time in my life, I stooped to deceit; this +weakness merits punishment, and I submit to it--demands reparation, and I +make it--calls for apologies, and I tender them to you." Then turning +towards Djalma, she added: "Now, prince, I am no longer mistress of my +secret. I am your relation, Mdlle. de Cardoville; and I hope you will +accept from a sister the hospitality that you did not refuse from a +mother." + +Djalma made no reply. Plunged in ecstatic contemplation of this sudden +apparition, which surpassed his wildest and most dazzling visions, he +felt a sort of intoxication, which, paralyzing the power of thought, +concentrated all his faculties in the one sense of sight; and just as we +sometimes seek in vain to satisfy unquenchable thirst, the burning look +of the Indian sought, as it were, with devouring avidity, to take in all +the rare perfections of the young lady. Verily, never had two more +divine types of beauty met face to face. Adrienne and Djalma were the +very ideal of a handsome youth and maiden. There seemed to be something +providential in the meeting of these two natures, so young and so +vivacious, so generous and so full of passion, so heroic and so proud, +who, before coming into contact, had, singularly enough, each learned the +moral worth of the other; for if, at the words of Rodin, Djalma had felt +arise in his heart an admiration, as lively as it was sudden, for the +valiant and generous qualities of that unknown benefactress, whom he now +discovered in Mdlle. de Cardoville, the latter had, in her turn, been +moved, affected, almost terrified, by the interview she had just +overheard, in which Djalma had displayed the nobleness of his soul, the +delicate goodness of his heart, and the terrible transports of his +temper. Then she had not been able to repress a movement of +astonishment, almost admiration, at sight of the surprising beauty of the +prince; and soon after, a strange, painful sentiment, a sort of electric +shock, seemed to penetrate all her being, as her eyes encountered +Djalma's. + +Cruelly agitated, and suffering deeply from this agitation, she tried to +dissemble the impression she had received, by addressing Rodin, to +apologize for having suspected him. But the obstinate silence of the +Indian redoubled the lady's painful embarrassment. Again raising her +eyes towards the prince, to invite him to respond to her fraternal offer, +she met his ardent gaze wildly fixed upon her, and she looked once more +with a mixture of fear, sadness, and wounded pride; then she +congratulated herself on having foreseen the inexorable necessity of +keeping Djalma at a distance from her, such apprehension did this ardent +and impetuous nature already inspire. Wishing to put an end to her +present painful situation, she said to Rodin, in a low and trembling +voice, "Pray, sir, speak to the prince; repeat to him my offers. I +cannot remain longer." So saying, Adrienne turned, as if to rejoin +Florine. But, at the first step, Djalma sprang towards her with the +bound of a tiger, about to be deprived of his prey. Terrified by the +expression of wild excitement which inflamed the Indian's countenance, +the young lady drew back with a loud scream. + +At this, Djalma remembered himself, and all that had passed. Pale with +regret and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears, and +all his features marked with an expression of the most touching despair, +he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped hands towards her, +said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain! remain! do not +leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer, uttered with +the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation which contrasted +strangely with the savage violence that had so frightened Adrienne, she +replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare for their departure: +"Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longer here." + +"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "I +shall see you again?" + +"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice. +Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma, +Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse. + +Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at the moment +she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice: "To-morrow +we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in every limb, and, +without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress, behind the +plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees, with his +head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neither rage nor +excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. Seeing Rodin +approach him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he could hardly +reach the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in his hands. + +Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone: "Alas! +I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see your benefactress; +and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dear prince?" + +Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turned +towards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears. + +"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it is so +easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you that +misfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionately +loves a handsome young man of this town." + +Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as if +he felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw back his +head, and fell fainting upon the divan. + +Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he went +away, brushing his old hat with his elbow, + +"Come! it works--it works!" + + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE CONSULTATION. + +It is night. It has just struck nine. It is the evening of that day on +which Mdlle. de Cardoville first found herself in the presence of Djalma. +Florine, pale, agitated, trembling, with a candle in her hand, had just +entered a bedroom, plainly but comfortably furnished. This room was one +of the apartments occupied by Mother Bunch, in Adrienne's house. They +were situated on the ground-floor, and had two entrances. One opened on +the garden, and the other on the court-yard. From this side came the +persons who applied to the workgirl for succor; an ante-chamber in which +they waited, a parlor in which they were received, constituted Mother +Bunch's apartments, along with the bedroom, which Florine had just +entered, looking about her with an anxious and alarmed air, scarcely +touching the carpet with the tips of her satin shoes, holding her breath, +and listening at the least noise. + +Placing the candle upon the chimney-piece, she took a rapid survey of the +chamber, and approached the mahogany desk, surmounted by a well-filled +bookcase. The key had been left in the drawers of this piece of +furniture, and they were all three examined by Florine. They contained +different petitions from persons in distress, and various, notes in the +girl's handwriting. This was not what Florine wanted. Three cardboard +boxes were placed in pigeon-holes beneath the bookcase. These also were +vainly explored, and Florine, with a gesture of vexation, looked and +listened anxiously; then, seeing a chest of drawers, she made therein a +fresh and useless search. Near the foot of the bed was a little door, +leading to a dressing-room. Florine entered it, and looked--at first +without success--into a large wardrobe, in which were suspended several +black dresses, recently made for Mother Bunch, by order of Mdlle. de +Cardoville. Perceiving, at the bottom of this wardrobe, half hidden +beneath a cloak, a very shabby little trunk, Florine opened it hastily, +and found there, carefully folded up, the poor old garments in which the +work-girl had been clad when she first entered this opulent mansion. + +Florine started--an involuntary emotion contracted her features; but +considering that she had not liberty to indulge her feelings, but only to +obey Rodin's implacable orders, she hastily closed both trunk and +wardrobe, and leaving the dressing-room, returned into the bed-chamber. +After having again examined the writing-stand, a sudden idea occurred to +her. Not content with once more searching the cardboard boxes, she drew +out one of them from the pigeon-hole, hoping to find what she sought +behind the box: her first attempt failed, but the second was more +successful. She found behind the middle box a copy-book of considerable +thickness. She started in surprise, for she had expected something else; +yet she took the manuscript, opened it, and rapidly turned over the +leaves. After having perused several pages, she manifested her +satisfaction, and seemed as if about to put the book in her pocket; but +after a moment's reflection, she replaced it where she had found it, +arranged everything in order, took her candle, and quitted the apartment +without being discovered--of which, indeed, she had felt pretty sure, +knowing that Mother Bunch would be occupied with Mdlle. de Cardoville for +some hours. + +The day after Florine's researches, Mother Bunch, alone in her bed- +chamber, was seated in an arm-chair, close to a good fire. A thick +carpet covered the floor; through the window-curtains could be seen the +lawn of a large garden; the deep silence was only interrupted by the +regular ticking of a clock, and the crackling of the wood. Her hands +resting on the arms of the chair, she gave way to a feeling of happiness, +such as she had never so completely enjoyed since she took up her +residence at the hotel. For her, accustomed so long to cruel privations, +there was a kind of inexpressible charm in the calm silence of this +retreat--in the cheerful aspect of the garden, and above all, in the +consciousness that she was indebted for this comfortable position, to the +resignation and energy she had displayed, in the thick of the many severe +trials which now ended so happily. An old woman, with a mild and +friendly countenance, who had been, by express desire of Adrienne, +attached to the hunchback's service, entered the room and said to her: +"Mademoiselle, a young man wishes to speak to you on pressing business. +He gives his name as Agricola Baudoin." + +At this name, Mother Bunch uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy, +blushed slightly, rose and ran to the door which led to the parlor in +which was Agricola. + +"Good-morning, dear sister," said the smith, cordially embracing the +young girl, whose cheeks burned crimson beneath those fraternal kisses. + +"Ah, me!" cried the sempstress on a sudden, as she looked anxiously at +Agricola; "what is that black band on your forehead? You have been +wounded!" + +"A mere nothing," said the smith, "really nothing. Do not think of it. I +will tell you all about that presently. But first, I have things of +importance to communicate." + +"Come into my room, then; we shall be alone," Mother Bunch, as she went +before Agricola. + +Notwithstanding the expression of uneasiness which was visible on the +countenance of Agricola, he could not forbear smiling with pleasure as he +entered the room and looked around him. + +"Excellent, my poor sister! this is how I would always have you lodged. +I recognize here the hand of Mdlle. de Cardoville. What a heart! what a +noble mind!--Dost know, she wrote to me the day before yesterday, to +thank me for what I had done for her, and sent me a gold pin (very +plain), which she said I need not hesitate to accept, as it had no other +value but that of having been worn by her mother! You can't tell how +much I was affected by the delicacy of this gift!" + +"Nothing must astonish you from a heart like hers," answered the +hunchback. "But the wound--the wound?" + +"Presently, my good sister; I have so many things to tell you. Let us +begin by what is most pressing, for I want you to give me some good +advice in a very serious case. You know how much confidence I have in +your excellent heart and judgment. And then, I have to ask of you a +service--oh! a great service," added the smith, in an earnest, and almost +solemn tone, which astonished his hearer. "Let us begin with what is not +personal to myself." + +"Speak quickly." + +"Since my mother went with Gabriel to the little country curacy he has +obtained, and since my father lodges with Marshal Simon and the young +ladies, I have resided, you know, with my mates, at M. Hardy's factory, +in the common dwelling-house. Now, this morning but first, I must tell +you that M. Hardy, who has lately returned from a journey, is again +absent for a few days on business. This morning, then, at the hour of +breakfast, I remained at work a little after the last stroke of the bell; +I was leaving the workshop to go to our eating-room, when I saw entering +the courtyard, a lady who had just got out of a hackney-coach. I +remarked that she was fair, though her veil was half down; she had a mild +and pretty countenance, and her dress was that of a fashionable lady. +Struck with her paleness, and her anxious, frightened air, I asked her if +she wanted anything. 'Sir,' said she to me, in a trembling voice, and as +if with a great effort, 'do you belong to this factory?'--'Yes, madame.'- +-'M. Hardy is then in clanger?' she exclaimed.--'M. Hardy, madame? He +has not yet returned home.'--'What!' she went on, 'M. Hardy did not come +hither yesterday evening? Was he not dangerously wounded by some of the +machinery?' As she said these words, the poor young lady's lips +trembled, and I saw large tears standing in her eyes. 'Thank God, +madame! all this is entirely false,' said I, 'for M. Hardy has not +returned, and indeed is only expected by to-morrow or the day after.'-- +'You are quite sure that he has not returned! quite sure that he is not +hurt?' resumed the pretty young lady, drying her eyes.--'Quite sure, +madame; if M. Hardy were in danger, I should not be so quiet in talking +to you about him.'--'Oh! thank God! thank God!' cried the young lady. +Then she expressed to me her gratitude, with so happy, so feeling an air, +that I was quite touched by it. But suddenly, as if then only she felt +ashamed of the step she had taken, she let down her veil, left me +precipitately, went out of the court-yard, and got once more into the +hackney-coach that had brought her. I said to myself: 'This is a lady +who takes great interest in M. Hardy, and has been alarmed by a false +report."' + +"She loves him, doubtless," said Mother Bunch, much moved, "and, in her +anxiety, she perhaps committed an act of imprudence, in coming to inquire +after him." + +"It is only too true. I saw her get into the coach with interests, for +her emotion had infected me. The coach started--and what did I see a few +seconds after? A cab, which the young lady could not have perceived, for +it had been hidden by an angle of the wall; and, as it turned round the +corner, I distinguished perfectly a man seated by the driver's side, and +making signs to him to take the same road as the hackney-coach." + +"The poor young lady was followed," said Mother Bunch, anxiously. + +"No doubt of it; so I instantly hastened after the coach, reached it, and +through the blinds that were let down, I said to the young lady, whilst I +kept running by the side of the coach door: 'Take care, madame; you are +followed by a cab. + +"Well, Agricola! and what did she answer?" + +"I heard her exclaim, 'Great Heaven!' with an accent of despair. The +coach continued its course. The cab soon came up with me; I saw, by the +side of the driver, a great, fat, ruddy man, who, having watched me +running after the coach, no doubt suspected something, for he looked at +me somewhat uneasily." + +"And when does M. Hardy return?" asked the hunchback. + +"To-morrow, or the day after. Now, my good sister, advise me. It is +evident that this young lady loves M. Hardy. She is probably married, +for she looked so embarrassed when she spoke to me, and she uttered a cry +of terror on learning that she was followed. What shall I do? I wished +to ask advice of Father Simon, but he is so very strict in such matters-- +and then a love affair, at his age!--while you are so delicate and +sensible, my good sister, that you will understand it all." + +The girl started, and smiled bitterly; Agricola did not perceive it, and +thus continued: "So I said to myself, 'There is only Mother Bunch, who +can give me good advice.' Suppose M. Hardy returns to-morrow, shall I +tell him what has passed or not?" + +"Wait a moment," cried the other, suddenly interrupting Agricola, and +appearing to recollect something; "when I went to St. Mary's Convent, to +ask for work of the superior, she proposed that I should be employed by +the day, in a house in which I was to watch or, in other words, to act as +a spy--" + +"What a wretch!" + +"And do you know," said the girl, "with whom I was to begin this odious +trade? Why, with a Madame de-Fremont, or de Bremont, I do not remember +which, a very religious woman, whose daughter, a young married lady, +received visits a great deal too frequent (according to the superior) +from a certain manufacturer." + +"What do you say?" cried Agricola. "This manufacturer must be--" + +"M. Hardy. I had too many reasons to remember that name, when it was +pronounced by the superior. Since that day, so many other events have +taken place, that I had almost forgotten the circumstance. But it is +probable that this young lady is the one of whom I heard speak at the +convent." + +"And what interest had the superior of the convent to set a spy upon +her?" asked the smith. + +"I do not know; but it is clear that the same interest still exists, +since the young lady was followed, and perhaps, at this hour, is +discovered and dishonored. Oh! it is dreadful!" Then, seeing Agricola +start suddenly, Mother Bunch added: "What, then, is the matter?" + +"Yes--why not?" said the smith, speaking to himself; "why may not all +this be the work of the same hand? The superior of a convent may have a +private understanding with an abbe--but, then, for what end?" + +"Explain yourself, Agricola," said the girl. "And then,--where did you +get your wound? Tell me that, I conjure you." + +"It is of my wound that I am just going to speak; for in truth, the more +I think of it, the more this adventure of the young lady seems to connect +itself with other facts." + +"How so?" + +"You must know that, for the last few days, singular things are passing +in the neighborhood of our factory. First, as we are in Lent, an abbe +from Paris (a tall, fine-looking man, they say) has come to preach in the +little village of Villiers, which is only a quarter of a league from our +works. The abbe has found occasion to slander and attack M. Hardy in his +sermons." + +"How is that?" + +"M. Hardy has printed certain rules with regard to our work, and the +rights and benefits he grants us. These rules are followed by various +maxims as noble as they are simple; with precepts of brotherly love such +as all the world can understand, extracted from different philosophies +and different religions. But because M. Hardy has chosen what is best in +all religions, the abbe concludes that M. Hardy has no religion at all, +and he has therefore not only attacked him for this in the pulpit, but +has denounced our factory as a centre of perdition and damnable +corruption, because, on Sundays, instead of going to listen to his +sermons, or to drink at a tavern, our comrades, with their wives and +children, pass their time in cultivating their little gardens, in +reading, singing in chorus, or dancing together in the common dwelling- +house. The abbe has even gone so far as to say, that the neighborhood of +such an assemblage of atheists, as he calls us, might draw down the anger +of Heaven upon the country--that the hovering of Cholera was much talked +of, and that very possibly, thanks to our impious presence, the plague +might fall upon all our neighborhood." + +"But to tell such things to ignorant people," exclaimed Mother Bunch, "is +likely to excite them to fatal actions." + +"That is just what the abbe wants." + +"What do you tell me?" + +"The people of the environs, still more excited, no doubt by other +agitators, show themselves hostile to the workmen of our factory. Their +hatred, or at least their envy, has been turned to account. Seeing us +live all together, well lodged, well warmed, and comfortably clad, +active, gay, and laborious, their jealousy has been embittered by the +sermons, and by the secret manoeuvres of some depraved characters, who +are known to be bad workmen, in the employment of M. Tripeaud, our +opposition. All this excitement is beginning to bear fruit; there have +been already two or three fights between us and our neighbors. It was in +one of these skirmishes that I received a blow with a stone on my head." + +"Is it not serious, Agricola?--are you quite sure?" said Mother Bunch, +anxiously. + +"It is nothing at all, I tell you. But the enemies of M. Hardy have not +confined themselves to preaching. They have brought into play something +far more dangerous." + +"What is that?" + +"I, and nearly all my comrades, did our part in the three Revolutionary +days of July; but we are not eager at present, for good reasons, to take +up arms again. That is not everybody's opinion; well, we do not blame +others, but we have our own ideas; and Father Simon, who is as brave as +his son, and as good a patriot as any one, approves and directs us. Now, +for some days past, we find all about the factory, in the garden, in the +courts, printed papers to this effect: 'You are selfish cowards; because +chance has given you a good master, you remain indifferent to the +misfortunes of your brothers, and to the means of freeing them; material +comforts have enervated your hearts.'" + +"Dear me, Agricola! what frightful perseverance in wickedness!" + +"Yes! and unfortunately these devices have their effect on some of our +younger mates. As the appeal was, after all, to proud and generous +sentiments, it has had some influence. Already, seeds of division have +shown themselves in our workshops, where, before, all were united as +brothers. A secret agitation now reigns there. Cold suspicion takes the +place, with some, of our accustomed cordiality. Now, if I tell you that +I am nearly sure these printed papers, thrown over the walls of our +factory, to raise these little sparks of discord amongst us, have been +scattered about by the emissaries of this same preaching abbe--would it +not seem from all this, taken in conjunction with what happened this +morning to the young lady, that M. Hardy has of late numerous enemies?" + +"Like you, I think it very fearful, Agricola," said the girl; "and it is +so serious, that M. Hardy alone can take a proper decision on the +subject. As for what happened this morning to the young lady, it appears +to me, that, immediately on M. Hardy's return, you should ask for an +interview with him, and, however delicate such a communication may be, +tell him all that passed." + +"There is the difficulty. Shall I not seem as if wishing to pry into his +secrets?" + +"If the young lady had not been followed, I should have shared your +scruples. But she was watched, and is evidently in danger. It is +therefore, in my opinion, your duty to warn M. Hardy. Suppose (which is +not improbable) that the lady is married; would it not be better, for a +thousand reasons, that M. Hardy should know all?" + +"You are right, my good sister; I will follow your advice. M. Hardy +shall know everything. But now that we have spoken of others, I have to +speak of myself--yes, of myself--for it concerns a matter, on which may +depend the happiness of my whole life," added the smith, in a tone of +seriousness, which struck his hearer. "You know," proceeded Agricola, +after a moment's silence, "that, from my childhood, I have never +concealed anything from you--that I have told you everything--absolutely +everything?" + +"I know it, Agricola, I know it," said the hunchback, stretching out her +white and slender hand to the smith, who grasped it cordially, and thus +continued: "When I say everything, I am not quite exact--for I have +always concealed from you my little love-affairs--because, though we may +tell almost anything to a sister, there are subjects of which we ought +not to speak to a good and virtuous girl, such as you are." + +"I thank you, Agricola. I had remarked this reserve on your part," +observed the other, casting down her eyes, and heroically repressing the +grief she felt; "I thank you." + +"But for the very reason, that I made it a duty never to speak to you of +such love affairs, I said to myself, if ever it should happen that I have +a serious passion--such a love as makes one think of marriage--oh! then, +just as we tell our sister even before our father and mother, my good +sister shall be the first to be informed of it." + +"You are very kind, Agricola." + +"Well then! the serious passion has come at last. I am over head and +ears in love, and I think of marriage." + +At these words of Agricola, poor Mother Bunch felt herself for an instant +paralyzed. It seemed as if all her blood was suddenly frozen in her +veins. For some seconds, she thought she was going to die. Her heart +ceased to beat; she felt it, not breaking, but melting away to nothing. +Then, the first blasting emotion over, like those martyrs who found, in +the very excitement of pain, the terrible power to smile in the midst of +tortures, the unfortunate girl found, in the fear of betraying the secret +of her fatal and ridiculous love, almost incredible energy. She raised +her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said to him in +a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly love?" + +"That is to say, my good sister, that, for the last four days, I scarcely +live at all--or live only upon this passion." + +"It is only since four days that you have been in love?" + +"Not more--but time has nothing to do with it." + +"And is she very pretty?" + +"Dark hair--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--blue eyes, as large as +that--and as mild, as good as your own." + +"You flatter me, Agricola." + +"No, no, it is Angela that I flatter--for that's her name. What a pretty +one! Is it not, my good Mother Bunch?" + +"A charming name," said the poor girl, contrasting bitterly that graceful +appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless Agricola applied +to her without thinking of it. Then she resumed, with fearful calmness: +"Angela? yes, it is a charming name!" + +"Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this name is not only suited to +her face, but to her heart. In a word, I believe her heart to be almost +equal to yours." + +"She has my eyes--she has my heart," said Mother Bunch, smiling. "It is +singular, how like we are." + +Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words. +He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you +think, my good girl, that I could ever have fallen seriously in love with +any one, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?" + +"Come, brother," said the girl, smiling--yes, the unfortunate creature +had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein to- +day. Where did you make the acquaintance of this beautiful young +person?" + +"She is only the sister of one of my mates. Her mother is the head +laundress in our common dwelling, and as she was in want of assistance, +and we always take in preference the relations of members of the +association, Mrs. Bertin (that's the mother's name) sent for her daughter +from Lille, where she had been stopping with one of her aunts, and, for +the last five days, she has been in the laundry. The first evening I saw +her, I passed three hours, after work was over, in talking with her, and +her mother and brother; and the next day, I felt that my heart was gone; +the day after that, the feeling was only stronger--and now I am quite mad +about her, and resolved on marriage--according as you shall decide. Do +not be surprised at this; everything depends upon you. I shall only ask +my father and mother's leave, after I have yours." + +"I do not understand you, Agricola." + +"You know the utter confidence I have in the incredible instinct of your +heart. Many times, you have said to me: 'Agricola, love this person, +love that person, have confidence in that other'--and never yet were you +deceived. Well! you must now render me the same service. You will ask +permission of Mdlle. de Cardoville to absent yourself; I will take you to +the factory: I have spoken of you to Mrs. Benin and her daughter, as of a +beloved sister; and, according to your impression at sight of Angela, I +will declare myself or not. This may be childishness, or superstition, +on my part; but I am so made." + +"Be it so," answered Mother Bunch, with heroic courage; "I will see +Mdlle. Angela; I will tell you what I think of her--and that, mind you, +sincerely." + +"I know it. When will you come?" + +"I must ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day she can spare sue. I will let +you know." + +"Thanks, my good sister!" said Agricola warmly; then he added, with a +smile: "Bring your best judgment with you--your full dress judgment." + +"Do not make a jest of it, brother," said Mother Bunch, in a mild, sad +voice; "it is a serious matter, for it concerns the happiness of your +whole life." + +At this moment, a modest knock was heard at the door. "Come in," said +Mother Bunch. Florine appeared. + +"My mistress begs that you will come to her, if you are not engaged," +said Florine to Mother Bunch. + +The latter rose, and, addressing the smith, said to him: "Please wait a +moment, Agricola. I will ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day I can dispose +of, and I will come and tell you." So saying, the girl went out, leaving +Agricola with Florine. + +"I should have much wished to pay my respects to Mdlle. de Cardoville," +said Agricola; "but I feared to intrude." + +"My lady is not quite well, sir," said Florine, "and receives no one to- +day. I am sure, that as soon as she is better, she will be quite pleased +to see you." + +Here Mother Bunch returned, and said to Agricola: "If you can come for me +to-morrow, about three o'clock, so as not to lose the whole day, we will +go to the factory, and you can bring me back in the evening." + +"Then, at three o'clock to-morrow, my good sister." + +"At three to-morrow, Agricola." + +The evening of that same day, when all was quiet in the hotel, Mother +Bunch, who had remained till ten o'clock with Mdlle. de Cardoville, re- +entered her bedchamber, locked the door after her, and finding herself at +length free and unrestrained, threw herself on her knees before a chair, +and burst into tears. She wept long--very long. When her tears at +length ceased to flow, she dried her eyes, approached the writing-desk, +drew out one of the boxes from the pigeonhole, and, taking from this +hiding-place the manuscript which Florine had so rapidly glanced over the +evening before, she wrote in it during a portion of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +MOTHER BUNCH'S DIARY. + +We have said that the hunchback wrote during a portion of the night, in +the book discovered the previous evening by Florine, who had not ventured +to take it away, until she had informed the persons who employed her of +its contents, and until she had received their final orders on the +subject. Let us explain the existence of this manuscript, before opening +it to the reader. The day on which Mother Bunch first became aware of +her love for Agricola, the first word of this manuscript had been +written. Endowed with an essentially trusting character, yet always +feeling herself restrained by the dread of ridicule--a dread which, in +its painful exaggeration, was the workgirl's only weakness--to whom could +the unfortunate creature have confided the secret of that fatal passion, +if not to paper--that mute confidant of timid and suffering souls, that +patient friend, silent and cold, who, if it makes no reply to heart- +rending complaints, at least always listens, and never forgets? + +When her heart was overflowing with emotion, sometimes mild and sad, +sometimes harsh and bitter, the poor workgirl, finding a melancholy charm +in these dumb and solitary outpourings of the soul, now clothed in the +form of simple and touching poetry, and now in unaffected prose, had +accustomed herself by degrees not to confine her confidences to what +immediately related to Agricola, for though he might be mixed up with all +her thoughts, for reflections, which the sight of beauty, of happy love, +of maternity, of wealth, of misfortune, called up within her, were so +impressed with the influence of her unfortunate personal position, that +she would not even have dared to communicate them to him. Such, then, +was this journal of a poor daughter of the people, weak, deformed, and +miserable, but endowed with an angelic soul, and a fine intellect, +improved by reading, meditation, and solitude; pages quite unknown, which +yet contained many deep and striking views, both as regard men and +things, taken from the peculiar standpoint in which fate had placed this +unfortunate creature. The following lines, here and there abruptly +interrupted or stained with tears, according to the current of her +various emotions, on hearing of Agricola's deep love for Angela, formed +the last pages of this journal: + +"Friday, March 3d, 1832. + +"I spent the night without any painful dreams. This morning, I rose with +no sorrowful presentiment. I was calm and tranquil when Agricola came. +He did not appear to me agitated. He was simple and affectionate as he +always is. He spoke to me of events relating to M. Hardy, and then, +without transition, without hesitation, he said to me: 'The last four +days I have been desperately in love. The sentiment is so serious, that +I think of marriage. I have come to consult you about it.' That was how +this overwhelming revelation was made to me--naturally and cordially--I +on one side of the hearth, and Agricola an the other, as if we had talked +of indifferent things. And yet no more is needed to break one's heart. +Some one enters, embraces you like a brother, sits down, talks--and then +--Oh! Merciful heaven! my head wanders. + +"I feel calmer now. Courage, my poor heart, courage!--Should a day of +misfortune again overwhelm me, I will read these lines written under the +impression of the most cruel grief I can ever feel, and I will say to +myself: 'What is the present woe compared to that past?' My grief is +indeed cruel! it is illegitimate, ridiculous, shameful: I should not dare +to confess it, even to the most indulgent of mothers. Alas! there are +some fearful sorrows, which yet rightly make men shrug their shoulders in +pity or contempt. Alas! these are forbidden misfortunes. Agricola has +asked me to go to-morrow, to see this young girl to whom he is so +passionately attached, and whom he will marry, if the instinct of my +heart should approve the marriage. This thought is the most painful of +all those which have tortured me since he so pitilessly announced this +love. Pitilessly? No, Agricola--no, my brother--forgive me this unjust +cry of pain! Is it that you know, can even suspect, that I love you +better than you love, better than you can ever love, this charming +creature? + +"'Dark-haired--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--with blue eyes--as +large as that--and almost as mild as your own.' + +"That is the portrait he drew of her. Poor Agricola! how would he have +suffered, had he known that every one of his words was tearing my heart. +Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity, +inspired by a good, affectionate being, who, in the sincerity of his +ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame him- +-no--we pity him to the full extent of the grief that he would feel on +learning the pain he had caused me. It is strange! but never did +Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly +countenance was slightly agitated, as he spoke of the uneasiness of that +pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman +who runs the risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart beat +violently, my hands were burning, a soft languor floated over me-- +Ridiculous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus! + +"I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass. I +felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but +no matter--it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone +finely, my gaze beamed mild--I found Agricola so handsome, that I almost +began to think myself less ugly--no doubt, to excuse myself in my own +eyes for daring to love him. After all, what happened to-day would have +happened one day or another! Yes, that is consoling--like the thoughts +that death is nothing, because it must come at last--to those who are in +love with life! I have been always preserved from suicide--the last +resource of the unfortunate, who prefer trusting in God to remaining +amongst his creatures--by the sense of duty. One must not only think of +self. And I reflected also'God is good--always good--since the most +wretched beings find opportunities for love and devotion.' How is it that +I, so weak and poor, have always found means to be helpful and useful to +some one? + +"This very day I felt tempted to make an end with life--Agricola and his +mother had no longer need of me.--Yes, but the unfortunate creatures whom +Mdlle. de Cardoville has commissioned me to watch over?--but my +benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with +the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever +alarmed for her--I feel that she is more than ever in danger--more than +ever--I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must +live. Live--to go to-morrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately +loves? Good heaven! why have I always known grief, and never hate? +There must be a bitter pleasure in hating. So many people hate!--Perhaps +I may hate this girl--Angela, as he called her, when he said, with so +much simplicity: 'A charming name, is it not, Mother Bunch?' Compare this +name, which recalls an idea so full of grace, with the ironical symbol of +my witch's deformity! Poor Agricola! poor brother! goodness is sometimes +as blind as malice, I see. Should I hate this young girl?--Why? Did she +deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola? Can I find fault with +her for being beautiful? When I was not yet accustomed to the +consequences of my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter curiosity, why +the Creator had endowed his creatures so unequally. The habit of pain +has allowed me to reflect calmly, and I have finished by persuading +myself, that to beauty and ugliness are attached the two most noble +emotions of the soul--admiration and compassion. Those who are like me +admire beautiful persons--such as Angela, such as Agricola--and these in +their turn feel a couching pity for such as I am. Sometimes, in spite of +one's self, one has very foolish hopes. Because Agricola, from a feeling +of propriety had never spoken to me of his love affairs, I sometimes +persuaded myself that he had none--that he loved me, and that the fear of +ridicule alone was with him, as with me, an obstacle in the way of +confessing it. Yes, I have even made verses on that subject--and those, +I think, not the worst I have written. + +"Mine is a singular position! If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love +me, he is still more ridiculous. How did I come so to forget that, as to +have suffered and to suffer what I do?--But blessed be that suffering, +since it has not engendered hate--no; for I will not hate this girl--I +will Perform a sister's part to the last; I will follow the guidance of +my heart; I have the instinct of preserving others--my heart will lead +and enlighten me. My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when I +see her, and not be able to conquer my emotion. Oh, then! what a +revelation to Agricola--a discovery of the mad love he has inspired!--Oh, +never! the day in which he knew that would be the last of my life. There +would then be within me something stronger than duty--the longing to +escape from shame--that incurable shame, that burns me like a hot iron. +No, no; I will be calm. Besides, did I not just now, when with him bear +courageously a terrible trial? I will be calm. My personal feelings +must not darken the second sight, so clear for those I love. Oh! +painful--painful task! for the fear of yielding involuntarily to evil +sentiments must not render me too indulgent toward this girl. I might +compromise Agricola's happiness, since my decision is to guide his +choice. Poor creature that I am. How I deceive myself! Agricola asks +my advice, because he thinks that I shall have not the melancholy courage +to oppose his passion; or else he would say to me: 'No matter--I love; +and I brave the future!' + +"But then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide +him--if his resolution is taken beforehand--of what use will be to- +morrow's painful mission? Of what use? To obey him. Did he not say-- +'Come!' In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the secret +depths of my heart, I have asked myself if the thought had ever occurred +to him to love me otherwise than as a sister; if it had ever struck him, +what a devoted wife he would have in me! And why should it have occurred +to him? As long as he wished, as long as he may still wish, I have been, +and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his wife, sister, or +mother. Why should he desire what he already possesses? + +"Married to him--oh, God!--the dream is mad as ineffable. Are not such +thoughts of celestial sweetness--which include all sentiments from +sisterly to maternal love--forbidden to me, on pain of ridicule as +distressing as if I wore dresses and ornaments, that my ugliness and +deformity would render absurd? I wonder, if I were now plunged into the +most cruel distress, whether I should suffer as much as I do, on hearing +of Agricola's intended marriage? Would hunger, cold, or misery diminish +this dreadful dolor?--or is it the dread pain that would make me forget +hunger, cold, and misery? + +"No, no; this irony is bitter. It is not well in me to speak thus. Why +such deep grief? In what way have the affection, the esteem, the respect +of Agricola, changed towards me? I complain--but how would it be, kind +heaven! if, as, alas! too often happens, I were beautiful, loving, +devoted, and he had chosen another, less beautiful, less loving, less +devoted?--Should I not be a thousand times more unhappy? for then I +might, I would have to blame him--whilst now I can find no fault with +him, for never having thought of a union which was impossible, because +ridiculous. And had he wished it, could I ever have had the selfishness +to consent to it? I began to write the first pages of this diary as I +began these last, with my heart steeped in bitterness--and as I went on, +committing to paper what I could have intrusted to no one, my soul grew +calm, till resignation came--Resignation, my chosen saint, who, smiling +through her tears, suffers and loves, but hopes--never!" + +These word's were the last in the journal. It was clear, from the blots +of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to +weep. + +In truth, worn out by so many emotions, Mother Bunch late in the night, +had replaced the book behind the cardboard box, not that she thought it +safer there than elsewhere (she had no suspicion of the slightest need +for such precaution), but because it was more out of the way there than +in any of the drawers, which she frequently opened in presence of other +people. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily +accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola, and +firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's factory. +Florine, informed of her departure, but detained a portion of the day in +attendance on Mdlle. de Cardoville preferred waiting for night to perform +the new orders she had asked and received, since she had communicated by +letter the contents of Mother Bunch's journal. Certain not to be +surprised, she entered the workgirls' chamber, as soon as the night was +come. + +Knowing the place where she should find the manuscript, she went straight +to the desk, took out the box, and then, drawing from her pocket a sealed +letter, prepared to leave it in the place of the manuscript, which she +was to carry away with her. So doing, she trembled so much, that she was +obliged to support herself an instant by the table. Every good sentiment +was not extinct in Florine's heart; she obeyed passively the orders she +received, but she felt painfully how horrible and infamous was her +conduct. If only herself had been concerned, she would no doubt have had +the courage to risk all, rather than submit to this odious despotism; but +unfortunately, it was not so, and her ruin would have caused the mortal +despair of another person whom she loved better than life itself. She +resigned herself, therefore, not without cruel anguish, to abominable +treachery. + +Though she hardly ever knew for what end she acted, and this was +particularly the case with regard to the abstraction of the journal, she +foresaw vaguely, that the substitution of this sealed letter for the +manuscript would have fatal consequences for Mother Bunch, for she +remembered Rodin's declaration, that "it was time to finish with the +young sempstress." + +What did he mean by those words? How would the letter that she was +charged to put in the place of the diary, contribute to bring about this +result? she did not know--but she understood that the clear-sighted +devotion of the hunchback justly alarmed the enemies of Mdlle. de +Cardoville, and that she (Florine) herself daily risked having her +perfidy detected by the young needlewoman. This last fear put an end to +the hesitations of Florine; she placed the letter behind the box, and, +hiding the manuscript under her apron, cautiously withdrew from the +chamber. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +THE DIARY CONTINUED. + +Returned into her own room, some hours after she had concealed there the +manuscript abstracted from Mother Bunch's apartment, Florine yielded to +her curiosity, and determined to look through it. She soon felt a +growing interest, an involuntary emotion, as she read more of these +private thoughts of the young sempstress. Among many pieces of verse, +which all breathed a passionate love for Agricola--a love so deep, +simple, and sincere, that Florine was touched by it, and forgot the +author's deformity--among many pieces of verse, we say, were divers other +fragments, thoughts, and narratives, relating to a variety of facts. We +shall quote some of them, in order to explain the profound impression +that their perusal made upon Florine. + +Fragments from the Diary. + +"This is my birthday. Until this evening, I had cherished a foolish +hope. Yesterday, I went down to Mrs. Baudoin's, to dress a little wound +she had on her leg. When I entered the room, Agricola was there. No +doubt he was talking of me to his mother, for they stopped when I came +in, and exchanged a meaning smile. In passing by the drawers, I saw a +pasteboard box, with a pincushion-lid, and I felt myself blushing with +joy, as I thought this little present was destined for me, but I +pretended not to see it. While I was on my knees before his mother, +Agricola went out. I remarked that he took the little box with him. +Never has Mrs. Baudoin been more tender and motherly than she was that +morning. It appeared to me that she went to bed earlier than usual. 'It +is to send me away sooner,' said I to myself, 'that I may enjoy the +surprise Agricola has prepared for me.' How my heart beat, as I ran fast, +very fast, up to my closet! I stopped a moment before opening the door, +that my happiness might last the longer. At last I entered the room, my +eyes swimming with tears of joy. I looked upon my table, my chair, my +bed--there was nothing. The little box was not to be found. My heart +sank within me. Then I said to myself: 'It will be to-morrow--this is +only the eve of my birthday.' The day is gone. Evening is come. +Nothing. The pretty box was not for me. It had a pincushion-cover. It +was only suited for a woman. To whom has Agricola given it? + +"I suffer a good deal just now. It was a childish idea that I connected +with Agricola's wishing me many happy returns of the day. I am ashamed +to confess it; but it might have proved to me, that he has not forgotten +I have another name besides that of Mother Bunch, which they always apply +to me. My susceptibility on this head is unfortunately so stubborn, that +I cannot help feeling a momentary pang of mingled shame and sorrow, every +time that I am called by that fairy-tale name, and yet I have had no +other from infancy. It is for that very reason that I should have been +so happy if Agricola had taken this opportunity to call me for once by my +own humble name--Magdalen. Happily, he will never know these wishes and +regrets!" + +Deeper and deeper touched by this page of simple grief, Florine turned +over several leaves, and continued: + +"I have just been to the funeral of poor little Victorine Herbin, our +neighbor. Her father, a journeyman upholsterer, is gone to work by the +month, far from Paris. She died at nineteen, without a relation near +her. Her agony was not long. The good woman who attended her to the +last, told us that she only pronounced these words: 'At last, oh at +last!' and that with an air of satisfaction, added the nurse. Dear +child! she had become so pitiful. At fifteen, she was a rosebud--so +pretty, so fresh-looking, with her light hair as soft as silk; but she +wasted away by degrees--her trade of renovating mattresses killed her. +She was slowly poisoned by the emanations from the wool.[26] They were +all the worse, that she worked almost entirely for the poor, who have +cheap stuff to lie upon. + +"She had the courage of a lion, and an angel's resignation, She always +said to me, in her low, faint voice, broken by a dry and frequent cough: +"I have not long to live, breathing, as I do, lime and vitriol all day +long. I spit blood, and have spasms that make me faint.' + +"'Why not change your trade?' have I said to her. + +"'Where will I find the time to make another apprenticeship?' she would +answer; 'and it is now too late. I feel that I am done for. It is not +my fault,' added the good creature, 'for I did not choose my employment. +My father would have it so; luckily he can do without me. And then, you +see, when one is dead, one cares for nothing, and has no fear of "slop +wages.'" + +"Victorine uttered that sad, common phrase very sincerely, and with a +sort of satisfaction. Therefore she died repeating: 'At last!' + +"It is painful to think that the labor by which the poor man earns his +daily bread, often becomes a long suicide! I said this the other day to +Agricola; he answered me that there were many other fatal employments; +those who prepare aquafortis, white lead, or minium, for instance, are +sure to take incurable maladies of which they die. + +"'Do you know,' added Agricola, 'what they say when they start for those +fatal works?'--Why, 'We are going to the slaughter-house.' + +"That made me tremble with its terrible truth. + +"'And all this takes place in our day,' said I to him, with an aching +heart; 'and it is well-known. And, out of so many of the rich and +powerful, no one thinks of the mortality which decimates his brothers, +thus forced to eat homicidal bread!' + +"'What can you expect, my poor sister,' answered Agricola. 'When men are +to be incorporated, that they may get killed in war, all pains are taken +with them. But when they are to be organized, so as to live in peace, no +one cares about it, except M. Hardy, my master. People say, 'Pooh! +hunger, misery, and suffering of the laboring classes--what is that to +us? that is not politics.' 'They are wrong,' added Agricola; 'IT IS MORE +THAN POLITICS.' + +"As Victorine had not left anything to pay for the church service, there +was only the presentation of the body under the porch; for there is not +even a plain mass for the poor. Besides, as they could not give eighteen +francs to the curate, no priest accompanied the pauper's coffin to the +common grave. If funerals, thus abridged and cut short, are sufficient +in a religious point of view, why invent other and longer forms? Is it +from cupidity?--If, on the other hand, they are not sufficient, why make +the poor man the only victim of this insufficiency? But why trouble +ourselves about the pomp, the incense, the chants, of which they are +either too sparing or too liberal? Of what use? and for what purpose? +They are vain, terrestrial things, for which the soul recks nothing, +when, radiant, it ascends towards its Creator. Yesterday, Agricola made +me read an article in a newspaper, in which violent blame and bitter +irony are by turns employed, to attack what they call the baneful +tendencies of some of the lower orders, to improve themselves, to write, +to read the poets, and sometimes to make verses. Material enjoyments are +forbidden us by poverty. Is it humane to reproach us for seeking the +enjoyments of the mind? What harm can it do any one if every evening, +after a day's toil, remote from all pleasure, I amuse myself, unknown to +all, in making a few verses, or in writing in this journal the good or +bad impressions I have received? Is Agricola the worse workman, because, +on returning home to his mother, he employs Sunday in composing some of +those popular songs, which glorify the fruitful labors of the artisan, +and say to all, Hope and brotherhood! Does he not make a more worthy use +of his time than if he spent it in a tavern? Ah! those who blame us for +these innocent and noble diversions, which relieve our painful toils and +sufferings, deceive themselves when they think, that, in proportion as +the intellect is raised and refined, it is more difficult to bear with +privations and misery, and that so the irritation increases against the +luckier few. + +"Admitting even this to be the case--and it is not so--is it not better +to have an intelligent, enlightened enemy, to whose heart and reason you +may address yourself, than a stupid, ferocious, implacable foe? But no; +enmities disappear as the mind becomes enlightened, and the horizon of +compassion extends itself. We thus learn to understand moral +afflictions. We discover that the rich also have to suffer intense +pains, and that brotherhood in misfortune is already a link of sympathy. +Alas! they also have to mourn bitterly for idolized children, beloved +mistresses, reverend mothers; with them, also, especially amongst the +women, there are, in the height of luxury and grandeur, many broken +hearts, many suffering souls, many tears shed in secret. Let them not be +alarmed. By becoming their equals in intelligence, the people will learn +to pity the rich, if good and unhappy--and to pity them still more if +rejoicing in wickedness. + +"What happiness! what a joyful day! I am giddy with delight. Oh, truly, +man is good, humane, charitable. Oh, yes! the Creator has implanted +within him every generous instinct--and, unless he be a monstrous +exception, he never does evil willingly. Here is what I saw just now. I +will not wait for the evening to write it down, for my heart would, as it +were, have time to cool. I had gone to carry home some work that was +wanted in a hurry. I was passing the Place du Temple. A few steps from +me I saw a child, about twelve years old at most, with bare head, and +feet, in spite of the severe weather, dressed in a shabby, ragged smock- +frock and trousers, leading by the bridle a large cart-horse, with his +harness still on. From time to time the horse stopped short, and refused +to advance. The child, who had no whip, tugged in vain at the bridle. +The horse remained motionless. Then the poor little fellow cried out: 'O +dear, O dear!' and began to weep bitterly, looking round him as if to +implore the assistance of the passers-by. His dear little face was +impressed with so heart piercing a sorrow, that, without reflecting, I +made an attempt at which I can now only smile, I must have presented so +grotesque a figure. I am horribly afraid of horses, and I am still more +afraid of exposing myself to public gaze. Nevertheless, I took courage, +and, having an umbrella in my hand, I approached the horse, and with the +impetuosity of an ant that strives to move a large stone with a little +piece of straw, I struck with all my strength on the croup of the +rebellious animal. 'Oh, thanks, my good lady!' exclaimed the child, +drying his eyes: 'hit him again, if you please. Perhaps he will get up.' + +"I began again, heroically; but, alas! either from obstinacy or laziness, +the horse bent his knees, and stretched himself out upon the ground; +then, getting entangled with his harness, he tore it, and broke his great +wooden collar. I had drawn back quickly, for fear of receiving a kick. +Upon this new disaster, the child could only throw himself on his knees +in the middle of the street, clasping his hands and sobbing, and +exclaiming in a voice of despair: 'Help! help!' + +"The call was heard; several of the passers-by gathered round, and a more +efficacious correction than mine was administered to the restive horse, +who rose in a vile state, and without harness. + +"'My master will beat me,' cried the poor child, as his tears redoubled; +'I am already two hours after time, for the horse would not go, and now +he has broken his harness. My master will beat me, and turn me away. Oh +dear! what will become of me! I have no father nor mother.' + +"At these words, uttered with a heart-rending accent, a worthy old +clothes-dealer of the Temple, who was amongst the spectators, exclaimed, +with a kindly air: 'No father nor mother! Do not grieve so, my poor +little fellow; the Temple can supply everything. We will mend the +harness, and, if my gossips are like me, you shall not go away bareheaded +or barefooted in such weather as this.' + +"This proposition was greeted with acclamation; they led away both horse +and child; some were occupied in mending the harness, then one supplied a +cap, another a pair of stockings, another some shoes, and another a good +jacket; in a quarter of an hour the child was warmly clad, the harness +repaired, and a tall lad of eighteen, brandishing a whip, which he +cracked close to the horse's ears, by way of warning, said to the little +boy, who, gazing first at his new clothes, and then at the good woman, +believed himself the hero of a fairy-tale. 'Where does your governor +live, little 'un?' + +"'On the Quai du Canal-Saint-Martin, sir,' answered he, in a voice +trembling with joy. + +"'Very good,' said the young man, 'I will help you take home the horse, +who will go well enough with me, and I will tell the master that the +delay was no fault of your'n. A balky horse ought not to be trusted +to a child of your age.' + +"At the moment of setting out, the poor little fellow said timidly to the +good dame, as he took off his cap to her: 'Will you let me kiss you, +ma'am?' + +"His eyes were full of tears of gratitude. There was heart in that +child. This scene of popular charity gave me delightful emotions. +As long as I could, I followed with my eyes the tall young man and the +child, who now could hardly keep up with the pace of the horse, rendered +suddenly docile by fear of the whip. + +"Yes! I repeat it with pride; man is naturally good and helpful. +Nothing could have been more spontaneous than this movement of pity and +tenderness in the crowd, when the poor little fellow exclaimed: 'What +will become of me? I have no father or mother!' + +"'Unfortunate child!' said I to myself. 'No father nor mother. In the +hands of a brutal master, who hardly covers him with a few rags, and ill- +treats him into the bargain. Sleeping, no doubt in the corner of a +stable. Poor little, fellow! and yet so mild and good, in spite of +misery and misfortune. I saw it--he was even more grateful than pleased +at the service done him. But perhaps this good natural disposition, +abandoned without support or counsel, or help, and exasperated by bad +treatment, may become changed and embittered--and then will come the age +of the passions--the bad temptations--' + +"Oh! in the deserted poor, virtue is doubly saintly and respectable! + +"This morning, after having (as usual) gently reproached me for not going +to mass, Agricola's mother said to me these words, so touching in her +simple and believing mouth, 'Luckily, I pray for you and myself too, my +poor girl; the good God will hear me, and you will only go, I hope, to +Purgatory.' + +"Good mother; angelic soul! she spoke those words in so grave and mild a +tone, with so strong a faith in the happy result of her pious +intercession, that I felt my eyes become moist, and I threw myself on her +neck, as sincerely grateful as if I had believed in Purgatory. This day +has been a lucky one for me. I hope I have found work, which luck I +shall owe to a young person full of heart and goodness, she is to take me +to-morrow to St. Mary's Convent, where she thinks she can find me +employment." + +Florine, already much moved by the reading, started at this passage in +which Mother Bunch alluded to her, ere she continued as follows: + +"Never shall I forget with what touching interest, what delicate +benevolence, this handsome young girl received me, so poor, and so +unfortunate. It does not astonish me, for she is attached to the person +of Mdlle. de Cardoville. She must be worthy to reside with Agricola's +benefactress. It will always be dear and pleasant to me to remember her +name. It is graceful and pretty as her face; it is Florine. I am +nothing, I have nothing--but if the fervent prayers of a grateful heart +might be heard, Mdlle. Florine would be happy, very happy. Alas! I am +reduced to say prayers for her--only prayers--for I can do nothing but +remember and love her!" + +These lines, expressing so simply the sincere gratitude of the hunchback, +gave the last blow to Florine's hesitations. She could no longer resist +the generous temptation she felt. As she read these last fragments of +the journal, her affection and respect for Mother Bunch made new +progress. More than ever she felt how infamous it was in her to expose +to sarcasms and contempt the most secret thoughts of this unfortunate +creature. Happily, good is often as contagious as evil. Electrified by +all that was warm, noble, and magnanimous in the pages she had just read, +Florine bathed her failing virtue in that pure and vivifying source, and, +yielding, at last to one of those good impulses which sometimes carried +her away, she left the room with the manuscript in her hand, determined, +if Mother Bunch had not yet returned, to replace it--resolved to tell +Rodin that, this second time, her search for the journal had been vain, +the sempstress having no doubt discovered the first attempt. + +[26] In the Ruche Populaire, a working man's organ, are the following +particulars: + +"Carding Mattresses.--The dust which flies out of the wool makes carding +destructive to health in any case, but trade adulterations enhance the +danger. In sticking sheep, the skin gets blood-spotted; it has to be +bleached to make it salable. Lime is the main whitener, and some of it +clings to the wool after the process. The dresser (female, most often) +breathes in the fine dust, and, by lung and other complaints, is far from +seldom deplorably situated; the majority sicken of it and give up the +trade, while those who keep to it, at the very least, suffer with a +catarrh or asthma that torments them until death. + +"As for horsehair, the very best is not pure. You can judge what the +inferior quality is, from the workgirls calling it vitriol hair, because +it is the refuse or clippings from goats and swine, washed in vitriol, +boiled in dyes, etc., to burn and disguise such foreign bodies as straw. +thorns, splinters, and even bits of skin, not worth picking out. The +dust rising when a mass of this is beaten, makes as many ravages as the +lime-wool." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE DISCOVERY. + +A little while before Florine made up her mind to atone for her shameful +breach of confidence, Mother Bunch had returned from the factory, after +accomplishing to the end her painful task. After a long interview with +Angela, struck, like Agricola, with the ingenuous grace, sense, and +goodness, with which the young girl was endowed, Mother Bunch had the +courageous frankness to advise the smith to enter into this marriage. +The following scene took place whilst Florine, still occupied in reading +the journal, had not yet taken the praiseworthy resolution of replacing +it. It was ten o'clock at night. The workgirl, returned to Cardoville +House, had just entered her chamber. Worn out by so many emotions, she +had thrown herself into a chair. The deepest silence reigned in the +house. It was now and then interrupted by the soughing of a high wind, +which raged without and shook the trees in the garden. A single candle +lighted the room, which was papered with dark green. That peculiar tint, +and the hunchback's black dress, increased her apparent paleness. Seated +in an arm-chair by the side of the fire, with her head resting upon her +bosom, her hands crossed upon her knees, the work-girl's countenance was +melancholy and resigned; on it was visible the austere satisfaction which +is felt by the consciousness of a duty well performed. + +Like all those who, brought up in the merciless school of misfortune, no +longer exaggerate the sentiment of sorrow, too familiar and assiduous a +guest to be treated as a stranger, Mother Bunch was incapable of long +yielding to idle regrets and vain despair, with regard to what was +already past. Beyond doubt, the blow had been sudden, dreadful; +doubtless it must leave a long and painful remembrance in the sufferer's +soul; but it was soon to pass, as it were, into that chronic state of +pain-durance, which had become almost an integral part of her life. And +then this noble creature, so indulgent to fate, found still some +consolations in the intensity of her bitter pain. She had been deeply +touched by the marks of affection shown her by Angela, Agricola's +intended: and she had felt a species of pride of the heart, in perceiving +with what blind confidence, with what ineffable joy, the smith accepted +the favorable presentiments which seemed to consecrate his happiness. +Mother Bunch also said to herself: "At least, henceforth I shall not be +agitated by hopes, or rather by suppositions as ridiculous as they were +senseless. Agricola's marriage puts a term to all the miserable reveries +of my poor head." + +Finally, she found a real and deep consolation in the certainty that she +had been able to go through this terrible trial, and conceal from +Agricola the love she felt for him. We know how formidable to this +unfortunate being were those ideas of ridicule and shame, which she +believed would attach to the discovery of her mad passion. After having +remained for some time absorbed in thought, Mother Bunch rose, and +advanced slowly towards the desk. + +"My only recompense," said she, as she prepared the materials for +writing, "will be to entrust the mute witness of my pains with this new +grief. I shall at least have kept the promise that I made to myself. +Believing, from the bottom of my soul, that this girl is able to make +Agricola happy, I told him so with the utmost sincerity. One day, a long +time hence, when I shall read over these pages, I shall perhaps find in +that a compensation for all that I now suffer." + +So saying, she drew the box from the pigeon-hole. Not finding her +manuscript, she uttered a cry of surprise; but, what was her alarm, when +she perceived a letter to her address in the place of the journal! She +became deadly pale; her knees trembled; she almost fainted away. But her +increasing terror gave her a fictitious energy, and she had the strength +to break the seal. A bank-note for five hundred francs fell from the +letter on the table, and Mother Bunch read as follows: + +"Mademoiselle,--There is something so original and amusing in reading in +your memoirs the story of your love for Agricola, that it is impossible +to resist the pleasure of acquainting him with the extent of it, of which +he is doubtless ignorant, but to which he cannot fail to show himself +sensible. Advantage will be taken to forward it to a multitude of other +persons, who might, perhaps, otherwise be unfortunately deprived of the +amusing contents of your diary. Should copies and extracts not be +sufficient, we will have it printed, as one cannot too much diffuse such +things. Some will weep--others will laugh--what appears superb to one +set of people, will seem ridiculous to another, such is life--but your +journal will surely make a great sensation. As you are capable of +wishing to avoid your triumph, and as you were only covered with rags +when you were received, out of charity into this house, where you wish to +figure as the great lady, which does not suit your shape for more reasons +than one, we enclose in the present five hundred francs to pay for your +day-book, and prevent your being without resources, in case you should be +modest enough to shrink from the congratulations which await you, certain +to overwhelm you by to-morrow, for, at this hour, your journal is already +in circulation. + +"One of your brethren, + +"A REAL MOTHER BUNCH." + +The vulgar, mocking, and insolent tone of this letter, which was +purposely written in the character of a jealous lackey, dissatisfied with +the admission of the unfortunate creature into the house, had been +calculated with infernal skill and was sure to produce the effect +intended. + +"Oh, good heaven!" were the only words the unfortunate girl could +pronounce, in her stupor and alarm. + +Now, if we remember in what passionate terms she had expressed her love +for her adopted brother, if we recall many passages of this manuscript, +in which she revealed the painful wounds often inflicted on her by +Agricola without knowing it, and if we consider how great was her terror +of ridicule, we shall understand her mad despair on reading this infamous +letter. Mother Bunch did not think for a moment of all the noble words +and touching narratives contained in her journal. The one horrible idea +which weighed down the troubled spirit of the unfortunate creature, was, +that on the morrow Agricola, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and an insolent and +mocking crowd, would be informed of this ridiculous love, which would, +she imagined, crush her with shame and confusion. This new blow was so +stunning, that the recipient staggered a moment beneath the unexpected +shock. For some minutes, she remained completely inert and helpless; +then, upon reflection, she suddenly felt conscious of a terrible +necessity. + +This hospitable mansion, where she had found a sure refuge after so many +misfortunes, must be left for ever. The trembling timidity and sensitive +delicacy of the poor creature did not permit her to remain a minute more +in this dwelling, where the most secret recesses of her soul had been +laid open, profaned, and exposed no doubt to sarcasm and contempt. She +did not think of demanding justice and revenge from Mdlle. de Cardoville. +To cause a ferment of trouble and irritation in this house, at the moment +of quitting it, would have appeared to her ingratitude towards her +benefactress. She did not seek to discover the author or the motive of +this odious robbery and insulting letter. Why should she, resolved, as +she was, to fly from the humiliations with which she was threatened? She +had a vague notion (as indeed was intended), that this infamy might be +the work of some of the servants, jealous of the affectionate deference +shown her by Mdlle. de Cardoville--and this thought filled her with +despair. Those pages--so painfully confidential, which she would not +have ventured to impart to the most tender and indulgent mother, because, +written as it were with her heart's blood, they painted with too cruel a +fidelity the thousand secret wounds of her soul--those pages were to +serve, perhaps served even now, for the jest and laughing-stock of the +lackeys of the mansion. + +The money which accompanied this letter, and the insulting way in which +it was offered, rather tended to confirm her suspicions. It was intended +that the fear of misery should not be the obstacle of her leaving the +house. The workgirl's resolution was soon taken, with that calm and firm +resignation which was familiar to her. She rose, with somewhat bright +and haggard eyes, but without a tear in them. Since the day before, she +had wept too much. With a trembling, icy hand, she wrote these words on +a paper, which she left by the side of the bank-note: "May Mdlle. de +Cardoville be blessed for all that she has done for me, and forgive me +for having left her house, where I can remain no longer." + +Having written this, Mother Bunch threw into the fire the infamous +letter, which seemed to burn her hands. Then, taking a last look at her +chamber, furnished so comfortably, she shuddered involuntarily as she +thought of the misery that awaited her--a misery more frightful than that +of which she had already been the victim, for Agricola's mother had +departed with Gabriel, and the unfortunate girl could no longer, as +formerly, be consoled in her distress by the almost maternal affection of +Dagobert's wife. To live alone--quite alone--with the thought that her +fatal passion for Agricola was laughed at by everybody, perhaps even by +himself--such were the future prospects of the hunchback. This future +terrified her--a dark desire crossed her mind--she shuddered, and an +expression of bitter joy contracted her features. Resolved to go, she +made some steps towards the door, when, in passing before the fireplace, +she saw her own image in the glass, pale as death, and clothed in black; +then it struck her that she wore a dress which did not belong to her, and +she remembered a passage in the letter, which alluded to the rags she had +on before she entered that house. "True!" said she, with a heart- +breaking smile, as she looked at her black garments; "they would call me +a thief." + +And, taking her candle, she entered the little dressing room, and put on +again the poor, old clothes, which she had preserved as a sort of pious +remembrance of her misfortunes. Only at this instant did her tears flow +abundantly. She wept--not in sorrow at resuming the garb of misery, but +in gratitude; for all the comforts around her, to which she was about to +bid an eternal adieu, recalled to her mind at every step the delicacy and +goodness of Mdlle. de Cardoville: therefore, yielding to an almost +involuntary impulse, after she had put on her poor, old clothes, she fell +on her knees in the middle of the room, and, addressing herself in +thought to Mdlle. de Cardoville, she exclaimed, in a voice broken by +convulsive sobs: "Adieu! oh, for ever, adieu!--You, that deigned to call +me friend--and sister!" + +Suddenly, she rose in alarm; she heard steps in the corridor, which led +from the garden to one of the doors of her apartment, the other door +opening into the parlor. It was Florine, who (alas! too late) was +bringing back the manuscript. Alarmed at this noise of footsteps, and +believing herself already the laughing-stock of the house. Mother Bunch +rushed from the room, hastened across the parlor, gained the court-yard, +and knocked at the window of the porter's lodge. The house-door opened, +and immediately closed upon her. And so the workgirl left Cardoville +House. + +Adrienne was thus deprived of a devoted, faithful, and vigilant guardian. +Rodin was delivered from an active and sagacious antagonist, whom he had +always, with good reason, feared. Having, as we have seen, guessed +Mother Bunch's love for Agricola, and knowing her to be a poet, the +Jesuit supposed, logically enough that she must have written secretly +some verses inspired by this fatal and concealed passion. Hence the +order given to Florine, to try and discover some written evidence of this +love; hence this letter, so horribly effective in its coarse ribaldry, of +which, it must be observed, Florine did not know the contents, having +received it after communicating a summary of the contents of the +manuscript, which, the first time, she had only glanced through without +taking it away. We have said, that Florine, yielding too late to a +generous repentance, had reached Mother Bunch's apartment, just as the +latter quitted the house in consternation. + +Perceiving a light in the dressing-room, the waiting-maid hastened +thither. She saw upon a chair the black dress that Mother Bunch had just +taken off, and, a few steps further, the shabby little trunk, open and +empty, in which she had hitherto preserved her poor garments. Florine's +heart sank within her; she ran to the secretary; the disorder of the +card-board boxes, the note for five hundred francs left by the side of +the two lines written to Mdlle. de Cardoville, all proved that her +obedience to Rodin's orders had borne fatal fruit, and that Mother Bunch +had quitted the house for ever. Finding the uselessness of her tardy +resolution, Florine resigned herself with a sigh to the necessity of +delivering the manuscript to Rodin. Then, forced by the fatality of her +miserable position to console herself for evil by evil, she considered +that the hunchback's departure would at least make her treachery less +dangerous. + +Two days after these events, Adrienne received the following note from +Rodin, in answer to a letter she had written him, to inform him of the +work-girl's inexplicable departure: + +"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY;--Obliged to set out this morning for the +factory of the excellent M. Hardy, whither I am called by an affair of +importance, it is impossible for me to pay you my humble respects. +You ask me what I think of the disappearance of this poor girl? I +really do not know. The future will, I doubt not, explain all to her +advantage. Only, remember what I told you at Dr. Baleinier's, with +regard to a certain society and its secret emissaries, with whom it has +the art of surrounding those it wishes to keep a watch on. I accuse no +one; but let us only recall facts. This poor girl accused me; and I am, +as you know, the most faithful of your servants. She possessed nothing; +and yet five hundred francs were found in her secretary. You +loaded her with favors; and she leaves your house without even explaining +the cause of this extraordinary flight. I draw no conclusion, my dear +young lady; I am always unwilling to condemn without evidence; but +reflect upon all this, and be on your guard, for you have perhaps escaped +a great danger. Be more circumspect and suspicious than ever; such at +least is the respectful advice of your most obedient, humble servant, + +"Rodin." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +THE TRYSTING-PLACE OF THE WOLVES. + +It was a Sunday morning the very day on which Mdlle. de Cardoville had +received Rodin's letter with regard to Mother Bunch's disappearance. Two +men were talking to together, seated at a table in one of the public +houses in the little village of Villiers, situated at no great distance +from Hardy's factory. The village was for the most part inhabited by +quarrymen and stonecutters, employed in working the neighboring quarries. +Nothing can be ruder and more laborious, and at the same time less +adequately paid, than the work of this class of people. Therefore, as +Agricola had told Mother Bunch, they drew painful comparisons between +their condition, almost always miserable, and the comfort and comparative +ease enjoyed by M. Hardy's workmen, thanks to his generous and +intelligent management, and to the principles of association and +community which he had put in practice amongst them. Misery and +ignorance are always the cause of great evils. Misery is easily excited +to anger, and ignorance soon yields to perfidious counsels. For a long +time, the happiness of M. Hardy's workmen had been naturally envied, but +not with a jealousy amounting to hatred. As soon, however, as the secret +enemies of the manufacturer, uniting with his rival Baron Tripeaud, had +an interest in changing this peaceful state of things--it changed +accordingly. + +With diabolical skill and perseverance they succeeded in kindling the +most evil passions. By means of chosen emissaries, they applied to those +quarrymen and stonecutters of the neighborhood, whose bad conduct had +aggravated their misery. Notorious for their turbulence, audacity, and +energy, these men might exercise a dangerous influence on the majority of +their companions, who were peaceful, laborious, and honest, but easily +intimidated by violence. These turbulent leaders, previously embittered +by misfortune, were soon impressed with an exaggerated idea of the +happiness of M. Hardy's workmen, and excited to a jealous hatred of them. +They went still further; the incendiary sermons of an abbe, a member of +the Jesuits, who had come expressly from Paris to preach during Lent +against M. Hardy, acted powerfully on the minds of the women, who filled +the church, whilst their husbands were haunting the taverns. Profiting +by the growing fear, which the approach of the Cholera then inspired, the +preacher struck with terror these weak and credulous imaginations by +pointing to M. Hardy's factory as a centre of corruption and damnation, +capable of drawing down the vengeance of Heaven, and bringing the fatal +scourge upon the country. Thus the men, already inflamed with envy, were +still more excited by the incessant urgency of their wives, who, maddened +by the abbe's sermons, poured their curses on that band of atheists, who +might bring down so many misfortunes upon them and their children. Some +bad characters, belonging to the factory of Baron Tripeaud, and paid by +him (for it was a great interest the honorable manufacturer had in the +ruin of M. Hardy), came to augment the general irritation, and to +complete it by raising one of those alarming union-questions, which in +our day have unfortunately caused so much bloodshed. Many of M. Hardy's +workmen, before they entered his employ, had belonged to a society or +union, called the Devourers; while many of the stonecutters in the +neighboring quarries belonged to a society called the Wolves. Now, for a +long time, an implacable rivalry had existed between the Wolves and +Devourers, and brought about many sanguinary struggles, which are the +more to be deplored, as, in some respects, the idea of these unions is +excellent, being founded on the fruitful and mighty principle of +association. But unfortunately, instead of embracing all trades in one +fraternal communion, these unions break up the working-class into +distinct and hostile societies, whose rivalry often leads to bloody +collisions.[27] For the last week, the Wolves, excited by so many +different importunities, burned to discover an occasion or a pretext to +come to blows with the Devourers; but the latter, not frequenting the +public-houses, and hardly leaving the factory during the week, had +hitherto rendered such a meeting impossible, and the Wolves had been +forced to wait for the Sunday with ferocious impatience. + +Moreover, a great number of the quarrymen and stonecutters, being +peaceable and hard-working people, had refused, though Wolves themselves +to join this hostile manifestation against the Devourers of M. Hardy's +factory; the leaders had been obliged to recruit their forces from the +vagabonds and idlers of the barriers, whom the attraction of tumult and +disorder had easily enlisted under the flag of the warlike Wolves. Such +then was the dull fermentation, which agitated the little village of +Villiers, whilst the two men of whom we have spoken were at table in the +public-house. + +These men had asked for a private room, that they might be alone. One of +them was still young, and pretty well dressed. But the disorder in his +clothes, his loose cravat, his shirt spotted with wine, his dishevelled +hair, his look of fatigue, his marble complexion, his bloodshot eyes, +announced that a night of debauch had preceded this morning; whilst his +abrupt and heavy gesture, his hoarse voice, his look, sometimes +brilliant, and sometimes stupid, proved that to the last fumes of the +intoxication of the night before, were joined the first attacks of a new +state of drunkenness. The companion of this man said to him, as he +touched his glass with his own: "Your health, my boy!" + +"Yours!" answered the young man; "though you look to me like the devil." + +"I!--the devil?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +"How did you come to know me?" + +"Do you repent that you ever knew me?" + +"Who told you that I was a prisoner at Sainte-Pelagie?" + +"Didn't I take you out of prison?" + +"Why did you take me out?" + +"Because I have a good heart." + +"You are very fond of me, perhaps--just as the butcher likes the ox that +he drives to the slaughter-house." + +"Are you mad?" + +"A man does not pay a hundred thousand francs for another without a +motive." + +"I have a motive." + +"What is it? what do you want to do with me?" + +"A jolly companion that will spend his money like a man, and pass every +night like the last. Good wine, good cheer, pretty girls, and gay songs. +Is that such a bad trade?" + +After he had remained a moment without answering, the young man replied +with a gloomy air: "Why, on the eve of my leaving prison, did you attach +this condition to my freedom, that I should write to my mistress to tell +her that I would never see her again! Why did you exact this letter from +me?" + +"A sigh! what, are you still thinking of her?" + +"Always." + +"You are wrong. Your mistress is far from Paris by this time. I saw her +get into the stage-coach, before I came to take you out of Sainte- +Pelagie." + +"Yes, I was stifled in that prison. To get out, I would have given my +soul to the devil. You thought so, and therefore you came to me; only, +instead of my soul, you took Cephyse from me. Poor Bacchanal-Queen! And +why did you do it? Thousand thunders! Will you tell me!" + +"A man as much attached to his mistress as you are is no longer a man. +He wants energy, when the occasion requires." + +"What occasion?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"You make me drink too much brandy." + +"Bah! look at me!" + +"That's what frightens me. It seems something devilish. A bottle of +brandy does not even make you wink. You must have a stomach of iron and +a head of marble." + +"I have long travelled in Russia. There we drink to roast ourselves." + +"And here to only warm. So--let's drink--but wine." + +"Nonsense! wine is fit for children. Brandy for men like us!" + +"Well, then, brandy; but it burns, and sets the head on fire, and then we +see all the flames of hell!" + +"That's how I like to see you, hang it!" + +"But when you told me that I was too much attached to my mistress, and +that I should want energy when the occasion required, of what occasion +did you speak?" + +"Let us drink!" + +"Stop a moment, comrade. I am no more of a fool than others. Your half- +words have taught me something. + +"Well, what?" + +"You know that I have been a workman, that I have many companions, and +that, being a good fellow, I am much liked amongst them. You want me for +a catspaw, to catch other chestnuts?" + +"What then?" + +"You must be some getter-up of riots--some speculator in revolts." + +"What next?" + +"You are travelling for some anonymous society, that trades in musket- +shots." + +"Are you a coward?" + +"I burned powder in July, I can tell you--make no mistakes!" + +"You would not mind burning some again?" + +"Just as well that sort of fireworks as any other. Only I find +revolutions more agreeable than useful; all that I got from the +barricades of the three days was burnt breeches and a lost jacket. All +the cause won by me, with its 'Forward! March!' says." + +"You know many of Hardy's workmen?" + +"Oh! that's why you have brought me down here?" + +"Yes--you will meet with many of the workmen from the factory." + +"Men from Hardy's take part in a row? No, no; they are too well off for +that. You have been sold." + +"You will see presently." + +"I tell you they are well off. What have they to complain of?" + +"What of their brethren--those who have not so good a master, and die of +hunger and misery, and call on them for assistance? Do you think they +will remain deaf to such a summons? Hardy is only an exception. Let the +people but give a good pull all together, and the exception will become +the rule, and all the world be happy." + +"What you say there is true, but it would be a devil of a pull that would +make an honest man out of my old master, Baron Tripeaud, who made me what +I am--an out-and-out rip." + +"Hardy's workmen are coming; you are their comrade, and have no interest +in deceiving them. They will believe you. Join with me in persuading +them--" + +"To what?" + +"To leave this factory, in which they grow effeminate and selfish, and +forget their brothers." + +"But if they leave the factory, how are they to live?" + +"We will provide for that--on the great day." + +"And what's to be done till then?" + +"What you have done last night--drink, laugh, sing, and, by way of work, +exercise themselves privately in the use of arms.' + +"Who will bring these workmen here?" + +"Some one has already spoken to them. They have had printed papers, +reproaching them with indifference to their brothers. Come, will you +support me?" + +"I'll support you--the more readily as I cannot very well support myself. +I only cared for Cephyse in the world; I know that I am on a bad road; +you are pushing me on further; let the ball roll!--Whether we go to the +devil one way or the other is not of much consequence. Let's drink." + +"Drink to our next night's fun; the last was only apprenticeship." + +"Of what then are you made? I looked at you, and never saw you either +blush or smile, or change countenance. You are like a man of iron." + +"I am not a lad of fifteen. It would take something more to make me +laugh. I shall laugh to-night." + +"I don't know if it's the brandy; but, devil take me, if you don't +frighten me when you say you shall laugh tonight!" + +So saying, the young man rose, staggering; he began to be once more +intoxicated. + +There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" The host made his appearance. + +"What's the matter?" + +"There's a young man below, who calls himself Olivier. He asks for M. +Morok." + +"That's right. Let him came up." The host went out. + +"It is one of our men, but he is alone," said Morok, whose savage +countenance expressed disappointment. "It astonishes me, for I expected +a good number. Do you know him?" + +"Olivier? Yes--a fair chap, I think." + +"We shall see him directly. Here he is." A young man, with an open, +bold, intelligent countenance, at this moment entered the room. + +"What! old Sleepinbuff!" he exclaimed, at sight of Morok's companion. + +"Myself. I have not seen you for an age, Olivier." + +"Simple enough, my boy. We do not work at the same place." + +"But you are alone!" cried Morok; and pointing to Sleepinbuff, he added: +"You may speak before him--he is one of us. But why are you alone?" + +"I come alone, but in the name of my comrades." + +"Oh!" said Morok, with a sigh of satisfaction, "they consent." + +"They refuse--just as I do!" + +"What, the devil! they refuse? Have they no more courage than women?" +cried Morok, grinding his teeth with rage. + +"Hark ye," answered Olivier, coolly. "We have received your letters, and +seen your agent. We have had proof that he is really connected with +great societies, many members of which are known to us." + +"Well! why do you hesitate?" + +"First of all, nothing proves that these societies are ready to make a +movement." + +"I tell you they are." + +"He--tells you--they are," said Sleepinbuff, stammering "and I (hic!) +affirm it. Forward! March!" + +"That's not enough," replied Olivier. "Besides, we have reflected upon +it. For a week the factory was divided. Even yesterday the discussion +was too warm to be pleasant. But this morning Father Simon called to +him; we explained ourselves fully before him, and he brought us all to +one mind. We mean to wait, and if any disturbance breaks out, we shall +see." + +"Is that your final word?" + +"It is our last word." + +"Silence!" cried Sleepinbuff, suddenly, as he listened, balancing himself +on his tottering legs. "It is like the noise of a crowd not far off." A +dull sound was indeed audible, which became every moment more and more +distinct, and at length grew formidable. + +"What is that?" said Olivier, in surprise. + +"Now," replied Morok, smiling with a sinister air, "I remember the host +told me there was a great ferment in the village against the factory. If +you and your other comrades had separated from Hardy's other workmen, as +I hoped, these people who are beginning to howl would have been for you, +instead of against you." + +"This was a trap, then, to set one half of M. Hardy's workmen against the +other!" cried Olivier; "you hoped that we should make common cause with +these people against the factory, and that--" + +The young man had not time to finish. A terrible outburst of shouts, +howls, and hisses shook the tavern. At the same instant the door was +abruptly opened, and the host, pale and trembling, hurried into the +chamber, exclaiming: "Gentlemen! do any of you work at M. Hardy's +factory?" + +"I do," said Olivier. + +"Then you are lost. Here are the Wolves in a body, saying there are +Devourers here from M. Hardy's, and offering them battle--unless the +Devourers will give up the factory, and range themselves on their side." + +"It was a trap, there can be no doubt of it!" cried Olivier, looking at +Morok and Sleepinbuff, with a threatening air; "if my mates had come, we +were all to be let in." + +"I lay a trap, Olivier?" stammered Jacques Rennepont. "Never!" + +"Battle to the Devourers! or let them join the Wolves!" cried the angry +crowd with one voice, as they appeared to invade the house. + +"Come!" exclaimed the host. Without giving Olivier time to answer, he +seized him by the arm, and opening a window which led to a roof at no +very great height from the ground, he said to him: "Make your escape by +this window, let yourself slide down, and gain the fields; it is time." + +As the young workman hesitated, the host added, with a look of terror: + +"Alone, against a couple of hundred, what can you do? A minute more, and +you are lost. Do you not hear them? They have entered the yard; they +are coming up." + +Indeed, at this moment, the groans, the hisses, and cheers redoubled in +violence; the wooden staircase which led to the first story shook beneath +the quick steps of many persons, and the shout arose, loud and piercing: +"Battle to the Devourers!" + +"Fly, Olivier!" cried Sleepinbuff, almost sobered by the danger. + +Hardly had he pronounced the words when the door of the large room, which +communicated with the small one in which they were, was burst open with a +frightful crash. + +"Here they are!" cried the host, clasping his hands in alarm. Then, +running to Olivier, he pushed him, as it were, out of the window; for, +with one foot on the sill, the workman still hesitated. + +The window once closed, the publican returned towards Morok the instant +the latter entered the large room, into which the leaders of the Wolves +had just forced an entry, whilst their companions were vociferating in +the yard and on the staircase. Eight or ten of these madmen, urged by +others to take part in these scenes of disorder, had rushed first into +the room, with countenances inflamed by wine and anger; most of them were +armed with long sticks. A blaster, of Herculean strength and stature, +with an old red handkerchief about his head, its ragged ends streaming +over his shoulders, miserably dressed in a half-worn goat-skin, +brandished an iron drilling-rod, and appeared to direct the movements. +With bloodshot eyes, threatening and ferocious countenance, he advanced +towards the small room, as if to drive back Morok, and exclaimed, in a +voice of thunder: + +"Where are the Devourers?--the Wolves will eat 'em up!" + +The host hastened to open the door of the small room, saying: "There is +no one here, my friends--no one. Look for yourselves." + +"It is true," said the quarryman, surprised, after peeping into the room; +"where are they, then? We were told there were a dozen of them here. +They should have marched with us against the factory, or there'd 'a been +a battle, and the Wolves would have tried their teeth!" + +"If they have not come," said another, "they will come. Let's wait." + +"Yes, yes; we will wait for them." + +"We will look close at each other." + +"If the Wolves want to see the Devourers," said Morok, "why not go and +howl round the factory of the miscreant atheists? At the first howl of +the Wolves they will come out, and give you battle." + +"They will give you--battle," repeated Sleepinbuff, mechanically. + +"Unless the Wolves are afraid of the Devourers," added Morok. + +"Since you talk of fear, you shall go with us, and see who's afraid!" +cried the formidable blaster, and in a thundering voice, he advanced +towards Morok. + +A number of voices joined in with, "Who says the Wolves are afraid of the +Devourers?" + +"It would be the first time!" + +"Battle! battle! and make an end of it!" + +"We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so +well off?" + +"They have said that quarrymen are brutes, only fit to torn wheels in a +shaft, like dogs to turn spits," cried an emissary of Baron Tripeaud's. + +"And that the Devourers would make themselves caps with wolf-skin," added +another. + +"Neither they nor their wives ever go to mass. They are pagans and +dogs!" cried an emissary of the preaching abbe. + +"The men might keep their Sunday as they pleased; but their wives not to +go to mass!--it is abominable. + +"And, therefore, the curate has said that their factory, because of its +abominations, might bring down the cholera to the country." + +"True? he said that in his sermon." + +"Our wives heard it." + +"Yes, yes; down with the Devourers, who want to bring the cholera on the +country!" + +"Hooray, for a fight!" cried the crowd in chorus. + +"To the factory, my brave Wolves!" cried Morok, with the voice of a +Stentor; "on to the factory!" + +"Yes! to the factory! to the factory!" repeated the crowd, with furious +stamping; for, little by little, all who could force their way into the +room, or up the stairs, had there collected together. + +These furious cries recalling Jacques for a moment to his senses, he +whispered to Morok: "It is slaughter you would provoke? I wash my hands +of it." + +"We shall have time to let them know at the factory. We can give these +fellows the slip on the road," answered Morok. Then he cried aloud, +addressing the host, who was terrified at this disorder: "Brandy!--let us +drink to the health of the brave Wolves! I will stand treat." He threw +some money to the host, who disappeared, and soon returned with several +bottles of brandy, and some glasses. + +"What! glasses?" cried Morok. "Do jolly companions, like we are, drink +out of glasses?" So saying, he forced out one of the corks, raised the +neck of the bottle to his lips, and, having drunk a deep draught, passed +it to the gigantic quarryman. + +That's the thing!" said the latter. "Here's in honor of the treat!--None +but a sneak will refuse, for this stuff will sharpen the Wolves' teeth!" + +"Here's to your health, mates!" said Morok, distributing the bottles. + +"There will be blood at the end of all this," muttered Sleepinbuff, who, +in spite of his intoxication, perceived all the danger of these fatal +incitements. Indeed, a large portion of the crowd was already quitting +the yard of the public-house, and advancing rapidly towards M. Hardy's +factory. + +Those of the workmen and inhabitants of the village, who had not chosen +to take any part in this movement of hostility (they were the majority), +did not make their appearance, as this threatening troop passed along the +principal street; but a good number of women, excited to fanaticism by +the sermons of the abbe, encouraged the warlike assemblage with their +cries. At the head of the troop advanced the gigantic blaster, +brandishing his formidable bar, followed by a motley mass, armed with +sticks and stones. Their heads still warmed by their recent libations of +brandy, they had now attained a frightful state of frenzy. Their +countenances were ferocious, inflamed, terrible. This unchaining of the +worst passions seemed to forbode the most deplorable consequences. +Holding each other arm-in-arm, and walking four or five together, the +Wolves gave vent to their excitement in war-songs, which closed with the +following verse: + +"Forward! full of assurance! +Let us try our vigorous arms! +They have wearied out our prudence; +Let us show we've no alarms. +Sprung from a monarch glorious,[28] +To-day we'll not grow pale, +Whether we win the fight, or fail, +Whether we die, or are victorious! +Children of Solomon, mighty king, +All your efforts together bring, +Till in triumph we shall sing!" + +Morok and Jacques had disappeared whilst the tumultuous troop were +leaving the tavern to hasten to the factory. + +[27] Let it be noted, to the working-man's credit, that such outrageous +scenes become more and more rare as he is enlightened to the full +consciousness of his worth. Such better tendencies are to be attributed +to the just influence of an excellent tract on trades' union written by +M. Agricole Perdignier, and published in 1841, Paris. This author, a +joiner, founded at his own expense an establishment in the Faubourg St. +Antoine, where some forty or fifty of his trade lodged, and were given, +after the day's work, a course of geometry, etc., applied to wood- +carving. We went to one of the lectures, and found as much clearness in +the professor as attention and intelligence in the audience. At ten, +after reading selections, all the lodgers retire, forced by their scanty +wages to sleep, perhaps, four in a room. M. Perdignier informed us that +study and instruction were such powerful ameliorators, that, during six +years, he had only one of his lodgers to expel. "In a few days," he +remarked, "the bad eggs find out, this is no place for them to addle sound +ones!" We are happy to hear, reader, public homage to a learned and +upright man, devoted to his fellow-workmen. + +[28] The Wolves (among others) ascribe the institution of their company +to King Solomon. See the curious work by M. Agricole Perdignier, from +which the war-song is extracted. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE + +Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack on the +Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air, +perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind was +from the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock had +just struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separated +from the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sun +bathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league from +Paris, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible the +woody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city. +Nothing could be plainer, and yet more cheerful than the aspect of the +Common Dwelling-house of the workmen. Its slanting roof of red tiles +projected over white walls, divided here and there by broad rows of +bricks, which contrasted agreeably with the green color of the blinds on +the first and second stories. + +These buildings, open to the south and east, were surrounded by a large +garden of about ten acres, partly planted with trees, and partly laid out +in fruit and kitchen-garden. Before continuing this description, which +perhaps will appear a little like a fairy-tale, let us begin by saying, +that the wonders, of which we are about to present the sketch, must not +to be considered Utopian dreams; nothing, on the contrary, could be of a +more positive character, and we are able to assert, and even to prove +(what in our time is of great weight and interest), that these wonders +were the result of an excellent speculation, and represented an +investment as lucrative as it was secure. To undertake a vast, noble, +and most useful enterprise; to bestow on a considerable number of human +creatures an ideal prosperity, compared with the frightful, almost +homicidal doom, to which they are generally condemned; to instruct them, +and elevate them in their own esteem; to make them prefer to the coarse +pleasures of the tavern, or rather to the fatal oblivion which they find +there, as an escape from the consciousness of their deplorable destiny, +the pleasures, of the intellect and the enjoyments of art; in a word, to +make men moral by making them happy, and finally, thanks to this generous +example, so easy of imitation, to take a place amongst the benefactors of +humanity--and yet, at the same time to do, as it were, without knowing +it, an excellent stroke of business--may appear fabulous. And yet this +was the secret of the wonders of which we speak. + +Let us enter the interior of the factory. Ignorant of Mother Bunch's +cruel disappearance, Agricola gave himself up to the most happy, thoughts +as he recalled Angela's image, and, having finished dressing with unusual +care, went in search of his betrothed. + +Let us say two words on the subject of the lodging, which the smith +occupied in the Common Dwelling-house, at the incredibly low rate of +seventy-five francs per annum like the other bachelors on the +establishment. This lodging, situated on the second story, was comprised +of a capital chamber and bedroom, with a southern aspect, and looking on +the garden; the pine floor was perfectly white and clean; the iron +bedstead was supplied with a good mattress and warm coverings; a gas- +burner and a warm-air pipe were also introduced into the rooms, to +furnish light and heat as required; the walls were hung with pretty fancy +papering, and had curtains to match; a chest of drawers, a walnut table, +a few chairs, a small library, comprised Agricola's furniture. Finally, +in the large and light closet, was a place for his clothes, a dressing- +table, and large zinc basin, with an ample supply of water. If we +compare this agreeable, salubrious, comfortable lodging, with the dark, +icy, dilapidated garret, for which the worthy fellow paid ninety francs +at his mother's, and to get to which he had more than a league and a half +to go every evening, we shall understand the sacrifice he made to his +affection for that excellent woman. + +Agricola, after casting a last glance of tolerable satisfaction at his +looking-glass, while he combed his moustache and imperial, quitted his +chamber, to go and join Angela in the women's workroom. The corridor, +along which he had to pass, was broad, well-lighted from above, floored +with pine, and extremely clean. Notwithstanding some seeds of discord +which had been lately sown by M. Hardy's enemies amongst his workmen, +until now so fraternally united, joyous songs were heard in almost all +the apartments which skirted the corridor, and, as Agricola passed before +several open doors, he exchanged a cordial good-morrow with many of his +comrades. The smith hastily descended the stairs, crossed the court- +yard, in which was a grass-plot planted with trees, with a fountain in +the centre, and gained the other wing of the building. There was the +workroom, in which a portion of the wives and daughters of the associated +artisans, who happened not to be employed in the factory, occupied +themselves in making up the linen. This labor, joined to the enormous +saving effected by the purchase of the materials wholesale, reduced to an +incredible extent the price of each article. After passing through this +workroom, a vast apartment looking on the garden, well-aired in +summer,[29] and well-warmed in winter, Agricola knocked at the door of +the rooms occupied by Angela's mother. + +If we say a few words with regard to this lodging, situated on the first +story, with an eastern aspect, and also looking on the garden, it is that +we may tape it as a specimen of the habitation of a family in this +association, supplied at the incredibly small price of one hundred and +twenty-five francs per annum. + +A small entrance, opening on the corridor, led to a large room, on each +side of which was a smaller chamber, destined for the family, when the +boys and girls were too big to continue to sleep in the two dormitories, +arranged after the fashion of a large school, and reserved for the +children of both sexes. Every night the superintendence of these +dormitories was entrusted to a father and mother of a family, belonging +to the association. The lodging of which we speak, being, like all the +others, disencumbered of the paraphernalia of a kitchen--for the cooking +was done in common, and on a large scale, in another part of the +building--was kept extremely clean. A pretty large piece of carpet, a +comfortable arm-chair, some pretty-looking china on a stand of well- +polished wood, some prints hung against the walls, a clock of gilt +bronze, a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mahogany secretary, announced +that the inhabitants of this apartment enjoyed not only the necessaries, +but some of the luxuries of life. Angela, who, from this time, might be +called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering +portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor +Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed +with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her +mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him. + +"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if your +mother has no objection." + +"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girl +cordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with her +father, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasure with +you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, should do +the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting for you +an hour, and with such impatience!" + +"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking of the +pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse." + +"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, and +becoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?" + +"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Go +with M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, what +all the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what a +pity that your good little adopted sister is not with us." + +"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only a +pleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be the +last." + +Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they went +out together. + +"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I was +surprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see so +much misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I too +have had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. It +is really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask my +mother the explanation of these wonders, she tells me, 'M. Agricola will +explain it all to you.'" + +"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task, +mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender. +"Nothing could be more in season." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all the +resources of our association, is to be able to say to you: 'Here, the +workman, sure of the present, sure of the future, is not, like so many of +his poor brothers, obliged to renounce the sweetest want of the heart-- +the desire of choosing a companion for life--in the fear of uniting +misery to misery."' + +Angela cast down her eyes, and blushed. + +"Here the workman may safely yield to the hope of knowing the sweet joys +of a family, sure of not having his heart torn hereafter by the sight of +the horrible privations of those who are dear to him; here, thanks to +order and industry, and the wise employment of the strength of all, men, +women, and children live happy and contented. In a ward, to explain all +this to you, mademoiselle," added Agricola, smiling with a still more +tender air, "is to prove, that here we can do nothing more reasonable +than love, nothing wiser than marry." + +"M. Agricola," answered Angela, in a slightly agitated voice, and +blushing still more as she spoke, "suppose we were to begin our walk." + +"Directly, mademoiselle," replied the smith, pleased at the trouble he +had excited in that ingenuous soul. "But, come; we are near the +dormitory of the little girls. The chirping birds have long left their +nests. Let us go there." + +"Willingly, M. Agricola." + +The young smith and Angela soon entered a spacious dormitory, resembling +that of a first-rate boarding school. The little iron bedsteads were +arranged in symmetrical order; at each end were the beds of the two +mothers of families, who took the superintendence by turns. + +"Dear me! how well it is arranged, M. Agricola, and how neat and clean! +Who is it that takes such good care of it?" + +"The children themselves; we have no servants here. There is an +extraordinary emulation between these urchins--as to who shall make her +bed most neatly, and it amuses them quite as much as making a bed for +their dolls. Little girls, you know, delight in playing at keeping +house. Well, here they play at it in good earnest, and the house is +admirably kept in consequence." + +"Oh! I understand. They turn to account their natural taste for all such +kinds of amusement." + +"That is the whole secret. You will see them everywhere usefully +occupied, and delighted at the importance of the employments given them." + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, timidly, "only compare these fine +dormitories, so warm and healthy, with the horrible icy garrets, where +children are heaped pell-mell on a wretched straw-mattress, shivering +with cold, as in the case with almost all the workmen's families in our +country!" + +"And in Paris, mademoiselle, it is even worse." + +"Oh! how kind, generous, and rich must M. Hardy be, to spend so much +money in doing good!" + +"I am going to astonish you, mademoiselle!" said Agricola, with a smile; +"to astonish you so much, that perhaps you will not believe me." + +"Why so, M. Agricola?" + +"There is not certainly in the world a man with a better and more +generous heart than M. Hardy; he does good for its own sake and without +thinking of his personal interest. And yet, Mdlle. Angela, were he the +most selfish and avaricious of men, he would still find it greatly to his +advantage to put us in a position to be as comfortable as we are." + +"Is it possible, M. Agricola? You tell me so, and I believe it; but if +good can so easily be done, if there is even an advantage in doing it, +why is it not more commonly attempted?" + +"Ah! mademoiselle, it requires three gifts very rarely met with in the +same person--knowledge, power and will." + +"Alas! yes. Those who have the knowledge, have not the power." + +"And those who have the power, have neither the knowledge nor the will." + +"But how does M. Hardy find any advantage in the good he does for you?" + +"I will explain that presently, mademoiselle." + +"Oh, what a nice, sweet smell of fruit!" said Angela, suddenly. + +"Our common fruit-store is close at hand. I wager we shall find there +some of the little birds from the dormitory--not occupied in picking and +stealing, but hard at work." + +Opening a door, Agricola led Angela into a large room, furnished with +shelves, on which the winter fruits were arranged in order. A number of +children, from seven to eight years old, neatly and warmly clad, and +glowing with health, exerted themselves cheerfully, under the +superintendence of a woman, in separating and sorting the spoiled fruit. + +"You see," said Agricola, "wherever it is possible, we make use of the +children. These occupations are amusements for them, answering to the +need of movement and activity natural to their age; and, in this way, we +can employ the grown girls and the women to much better advantage." + +"True, M. Agricola; how well it is all arranged." + +"And if you saw what services the urchins in the kitchen render! +Directed by one or two women, they do the work of eight or ten servants." + +"In fact," said Angela, smiling, "at their age, we like so much to play +at cooking dinner. They must be delighted." + +"And, in the same way, under pretext of playing at gardening, they weed +the ground, gather the fruit and vegetables, water the flowers, roll the +paths, and so on. In a word, this army of infant-workers, who generally +remain till ten or twelve years of age without being of any service, are +here very useful. Except three hours of school, which is quite +sufficient for them, from the age of six or seven their recreations are +turned to good account, and the dear little creatures, by the saving of +full-grown arms which they effect, actually gain more than they cost; and +then, mademoiselle, do you not think there is something in the presence +of childhood thus mixed up with every labor--something mild, pure, almost +sacred, which has its influence on our words and actions, and imposes a +salutary reserve? The coarsest man will respect the presence of +children." + +"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is really +designed for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration. + +"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquer +prejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here we +are at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing as +that of a barrack or a public school?" + +Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house was immense. +All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to the marvellous and +economical inventions of modern science (which are always beyond the +reach of the poorer classes, to whom they are most necessary, because +they can only be practised on a large scale), not only the fire on the +hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity of fuel that +would have been consumed by each family individually, but the excess of +the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes, to spread a +mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. And here also +children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerous services. +Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in which they +performed their culinary functions; it was the same with the assistance +they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary saving in the +price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellent household +bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable to that whiter +bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to some deleterious +substance. + +"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, who +was gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthy of +Gamache's Wedding so heavily were they laden with pieces of beef, mutton, +and veal, which began to assume a fine golden brown color of the most +attractive kind; good-day, Dame Bertrand. According to the rule, I do +not pass the threshold of the kitchen. I only wish it to be admired by +this young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us." + +"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good these +brats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed with +the long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen children +of both sexes, seated round a table, and deeply absorbed in the exercise +of their functions, which consisted in peeling potatoes and picking +herbs. + +"We are, I see, to have a downright Belshazzar's feast, Dame Bertrand?" +said Agricola, laughing. + +"Faith, a feast like we have always, my lad. Here is our bill of fare +for to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad, +fruit, cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts made +by Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now." + +"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," said +Agricola, gayly. "One soon knows when it is your turn in the kitchen," +added he, with a flattering air. + +"Get along, do!" said the female Soyer on service, merrily. + +"What astonishes me, so much, M. Agricola," said Angela, as they +continued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient, unwholesome +food of the workmen in our country, with that which is provided here." + +"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for much +better food than we should get for three francs in Paris." + +"But really it is hard to believe, M. Agricola. How is it possible?" + +"It is thanks to the magic wand of M. Hardy. I will explain it all +presently." + +"Oh! how impatient I am to see M. Hardy!" + +"You will soon see him--perhaps to-day; for he is expected every moment. +But here is the refectory, which you do not yet know, as your family, +like many others, prefer dining at home. See what a fine room, looking +out on the garden, just opposite the fountain!" + +It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with ten +windows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth, +were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartment served in +the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those who preferred to +pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or with their families. +Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantly lighted with gas, +some read, some played cards, some talked, and some occupied themselves +with easy work. + +"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you will +like this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdays and +Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays a +concert-room." + +"Really!" + +"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians, quite +capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearly all of +us sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, this week, +some disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented our +concerts." + +"So many voices! that must be superb." + +"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged this +amusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerful an +effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for two pupils +of the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has made great +progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flattering +ourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundred +voices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hear +it, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great and +elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices, +blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound." + +"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life of +joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure." + +"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied +Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed +situation?" + +"Yes; what is it?" + +"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode +of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have +a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a +manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two- +thirds of what he would have gained in health." + +"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side +of the grass-plot?" + +"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under +yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and the +lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses." + +"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?" + +"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle." + +Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girl +was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the +garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common +Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound +of trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two horses, +approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his +appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail and +crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after the +fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery, the +red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet, with +its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, and was +crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for the +marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and +chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment +Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela and +Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang lightly to +the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in livery, who +followed also on horseback. + +"Where shall I wait for your grace?" asked the groom. + +"At the end of the avenue," said the marshal. + +And, uncovering his head respectfully, he advanced hastily with his hat +in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had not previously +perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue; he was an +old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He wore a very neat +blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With his hands in his +pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe. + +"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as he +affectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returned +the pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay we +are!" added he, with a smile. + +"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took the +opportunity to call on you as soon as possible." + +"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do every +Sunday?" + +"They are coming in a carriage, father, and Dagobert accompanies them." + +"But what is the matter? you appear full of thought." + +"Indeed, father," said the marshal, with a somewhat agitated air, "I have +serious things to talk about." + +"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal and +his father disappeared at the turn of the avenue. + +Angela had been struck with amazement at seeing this brilliant General, +who was entitled "your grace," salute an old workman in a blouse as his +father; and, looking at Agricola with a confused air she said to him: +"What, M. Agricola! this old workman--" + +"Is the father of Marshal Duke de Ligny--the friend--yes, I may say the +friend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twenty +years served under him in war.' + +"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to his +father!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but why +does he let his father remain a workman?" + +"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory for +anything in the world. He was born a workman, and he will die a workman, +though he is the father of a duke and marshal of France." + +[29] See Adolphe Bobierre "On Air and Health," Paris, 1844. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE SECRET. + +When the very natural astonishment which the arrival of Marshal Simon had +caused in Angela had passed away, Agricola said to her with a smile: "I +do not wish to take advantage of this circumstance, Mdlle. Angela, to +spare you the account of the secret, by which all the wonders of our +Common Dwelling-house are brought to pass." + +"Oh! I should not have let you forget your promise, M. Agricola," +answered Angela, "what you have already told me interests me too much for +that." + +"Listen, then. M. Hardy, like a true magician, has pronounced three +cabalistic words: ASSOCIATION--COMMUNITY--FRATERNITY. We have understood +the sense of these words, and the wonders you have seen have sprung from +them, to our great advantage; and also, I repeat, to the great advantage +of M. Hardy." + +"It is that which appears so extraordinary, M. Agricola." + +"Suppose, mademoiselle, that M. Hardy, instead of being what he is, had +only been a cold-hearted speculator, looking merely to the profit, and +saying to himself: 'To make the most of my factory, what is needed? Good +work--great economy in the raw material--full employment of the workman's +time; in a word, cheapness of manufacture, in order to produce cheaply-- +excellence of the thing produced, in order to sell dear.'" + +"Truly, M. Agricola, no manufacturer could desire more." + +"Well, mademoiselle, these conditions might have been fulfilled, as they +have been, but how? Had M. Hardy only been a speculator, he might have +said: 'At a distance from my factory, my workmen might have trouble to +get there: rising earlier, they will sleep less; it is a bad economy to +take from the sleep so necessary to those who toil. When they get +feeble, the work suffers for it; then the inclemency of the seasons makes +it worse; the workman arrives wet, trembling with cold, enervated before +he begins to work--and then, what work!'" + +"It is unfortunately but too true, M. Agricola. At Lille, when I reached +the factory, wet through with a cold rain, I used sometimes to shiver all +day long at my work." + +"Therefore, Mdlle. Angela, the speculator might say: 'To lodge my workmen +close to the door of my factory would obviate this inconvenience. Let us +make the calculation. In Paris the married workman pays about two +hundred and fifty francs a-year,[30] for one or two wretched rooms and a +closet, dark, small, unhealthy, in a narrow, miserable street; there he +lives pell-mell with his family. What ruined constitutions are the +consequence! and what sort of work can you expect from a feverish and +diseased creature? As for the single men, they pay for a smaller, and +quite as unwholesome lodging, about one hundred and fifty francs a-year. +Now, let us make the addition. I employ one hundred and forty-six +married workmen, who pay together, for their wretched holes, thirty-six +thousand five hundred francs; I employ also one hundred and fifteen +bachelors, who pay at the rate of seventeen thousand two hundred and +eighty francs; the total will amount to about fifty thousand francs per +annum, the interest on a million."' + +"Dear me, M. Agricola! what a sum to be produced by uniting all these +little rents together!" + +"You see, mademoiselle, that fifty thousand francs a-year is a +millionaire's rent. Now, what says our speculator: To induce our workmen +to leave Paris, I will offer them, enormous advantages. I will reduce +their rent one-half, and, instead of small, unwholesome rooms, they shall +have large, airy apartments, well-warmed and lighted, at a trifling +charge. Thus, one hundred and forty-six families, paying me only one +hundred and twenty-five francs a-year, and one hundred and fifteen +bachelors, seventy-five francs, I shall have a total of twenty-six to +twenty-seven thousand francs. Now, a building large enough to hold all +these people would cost me at most five hundred thousand francs.[31] I +shall then have invested my money at five per cent at the least, and with +perfect security, since the wages is a guarantee for the payment of the +rent.'" + +"Ah, M. Agricola! I begin to understand how it may sometimes be +advantageous to do good, even in a pecuniary sense." + +"And I am almost certain, mademoiselle, that, in the long run, affairs +conducted with uprightness and honesty turn out well. But to return to +our speculator. 'Here,' will he say, 'are my workmen, living close to my +factory, well lodged, well warmed, and arriving always fresh at their +work. That is not all; the English workman who eats good beef, and +drinks good beer, does twice as much, in the same time, as the French +workman,[32] reduced to a detestable kind of food, rather weakening than +the reverse, thanks to the poisonous adulteration of the articles he +consumes. My workmen will then labor much better, if they eat much +better. How shall I manage it without loss? Now I think of it, what is +the food in barracks, schools, even prisons? Is it not the union of +individual resources which procures an amount of comfort impossible to +realize without such an association? Now, if my two hundred and sixty +workmen, instead of cooking two hundred and sixty detestable dinners, +were to unite to prepare one good dinner for all of them, which might be +done, thanks to the savings of all sorts that would ensue, what an +advantage for me and them! Two or three women, aided by children, would +suffice to make ready the daily repasts; instead of buying wood and +charcoal in fractions,[33] and so paying for it double its value, the +association of my workmen would, upon my security (their wages would be +an efficient security for me in return), lay in their own stock of wood, +flour, butter, oil, wine, etc., all which they would procure directly +from the producers. Thus, they would pay three or four sous for a bottle +of pure wholesome wine, instead of paying twelve or fifteen sous for +poison. Every week the association would buy a whole ox, and some sheep, +and the women would make bread, as in the country. Finally, with these +resources, and order, and economy, my workmen may have wholesome, +agreeable, and sufficient food, for from twenty to twenty-five sous a +day.'" + +"Ah! this explains it, M. Agricola." + +"It is not all, mademoiselle. Our cool-headed speculator would continue: +'Here are my workmen well lodged, well warmed, well fed, with a saving of +at least half; why should they not also be warmly clad? Their health +will then have every chance of being good, and health is labor. The +association will buy wholesale, and at the manufacturing price (still +upon my security, secured to me by their wages), warm, good, strong +materials, which a portion of the workmen's wives will be able to make +into clothes as well as any tailor. Finally, the consumption of caps and +shoes being considerable, the association will obtain them at a great +reduction in price.' Well, Mdlle. Angela! what do you say to our +speculator?" + +"I say, M. Agricola," answered the young girl; with ingenuous admiration, +"that it is almost incredible, and yet so simple!" + +"No doubt, nothing is more simple than the good and beautiful, and yet we +think of it so seldom. Observe, that our man has only been speaking with +a view to his own interest--only considering the material side of the +question--reckoning for nothing the habit of fraternity and mutual aid, +which inevitably springs from living together in common--not reflecting +that a better mode of life improves and softens the character of man--not +thinking of the support and instruction which the strong owe to the weak- +--not acknowledging, in fine, that the honest, active, and industrious +man has a positive right to demand employment from society, and wages +proportionate to the wants of his condition. No, our speculator only +thinks of the gross profits; and yet, you see, he invests his money in +buildings at five per cent., and finds the greatest advantages in the +material comfort of his workmen." + +"It is true, M. Agricola." + +"And what will you say, mademoiselle, when I prove to you that our +speculator finds also a great advantage in giving to his workmen, in +addition to their regular wages, a proportionate share of his profits?" + +"That appears to me more difficult to prove, M. Agricola." + +"Yet I will convince you of it in a few minutes." + +Thus conversing, Angela and Agricola had reached the garden-gate of the +Common Dwelling-house. An elderly woman, dressed plainly, but with care +and neatness, approached Agricola, and asked him: "Has M. Hardy returned +to the factory, sir?" + +"No, madame; but we expect him hourly." + +"To-day, perhaps?" + +"To-day or to-morrow, madame." + +"You cannot tell me at what hour he will be here?" + +"I do not think it is known, madame, but the porter of the factory, who +also belongs to M. Hardy's private house, may, perhaps, be able to inform +you." + +"I thank you, sir." + +"Quite welcome, madame." + +"M. Agricola," said Angela, when the woman who had just questioned him +was gone, "did you remark that this lady was very pale and agitated?" + +"I noticed it as you did, mademoiselle; I thought I saw tears standing in +her eyes." + +"Yes, she seemed to have been crying. Poor woman! perhaps she came to +ask assistance of M. Hardy. But what ails you, M. Agricola? You appear +quite pensive." + +Agricola had a vague presentiment that the visit of this elderly woman +with so sad a countenance, had some connection with the adventure of the +young and pretty lady, who, three days before had come all agitated and +in tears to inquire after M. Hardy, and who had learned--perhaps too +late--that she was watched and followed. + +"Forgive me, mademoiselle," said Agricola to Angela; but the presence of +this old lady reminded me of a circumstance, which, unfortunately, I +cannot tell you, for it is a secret that does not belong to me alone." + +"Oh! do not trouble yourself, M. Agricola," answered the young girl, with +a smile; "I am not inquisitive, and what we were talking of before +interests me so much, that I do not wish to hear you speak of anything +else." + +"Well, then mademoiselle, I will say a few words more, and you will be as +well informed as I am of the secrets of our association." + +"I am listening, M. Agricola." + +"Let us still keep in view the speculator from mere interest. 'Here are +my workmen, says he, 'in the best possible condition to do a great deal +of work. Now what is to be done to obtain large profits? Produce +cheaply, and sell dear. But there will be no cheapness, without economy +in the use of the raw material, perfection of the manufacturing process, +and celerity of labor. Now, in spite of all my vigilance, how am I to +prevent my workmen from wasting the materials? How am I to induce them, +each in his own province, to seek for the most simple and least irksome +processes?" + +"True, M. Agricola; how is that to be done?" + +"'And that is not all,' says our man; 'to sell my produce at high prices, +it should be irreproachable, excellent. My workmen do pretty well; but +that is not enough. I want them to produce masterpieces.'" + +"But, M. Agricola, when they have once performed the task set them what +interest have workmen to give themselves a great deal of trouble to +produce masterpieces?" + +"There it is, Mdlle. Angela; what interest have they? Therefore, our +speculator soon says to himself: 'That my workmen may have an interest to +be economical in the use of the materials, an interest to employ their +time well, an interest to invent new and better manufacturing processes, +an interest to send out of their hands nothing but masterpieces--I must +give them an interest in the profits earned by their economy, activity, +zeal and skill. The better they manufacture, the better I shall sell, +and the larger will be their gain and mine also.'" + +"Oh! now I understand, M. Agricola." + +"And our speculator would make a good speculation. Before he was +interested, the workman said: 'What does it matter to me, that I do more +or do better in the course of the day? What shall I gain by it? +Nothing. Well, then, little work for little wages. But now, on the +contrary (he says), I have an interest in displaying zeal and economy. +All is changed. I redouble my activity, and strive to excel the others. +If a comrade is lazy, and likely to do harm to the factory, I have the +right to say to him: 'Mate, we all suffer more or less from your +laziness, and from the injury you are doing the common weal.'" + +"And then, M. Agricola, with what ardor, courage, and hope, you must set +to work!" + +"That is what our speculator counts on; and he may say to himself, +further: 'Treasures of experience and practical wisdom are often buried +in workshops, for want of goodwill, opportunity, or encouragement. +Excellent workmen, instead of making all the improvements in their power, +follow with indifference the old jog-trot. What a pity! for an +intelligent man, occupied all his life with some special employment, must +discover, in the long run, a thousand ways of doing his work better and +quicker. I will form, therefore, a sort of consulting committee; I will +summon to it my foremen and my most skillful workmen. Our interest 1s +now the same. Light will necessarily spring from this centre of +practical intelligence.' Now, the speculator is not deceived in this, +and soon struck with the incredible resources, the thousand new, +ingenious, perfect inventions suddenly revealed by his workmen, 'Why' he +exclaims, 'if you knew this, did you not tell it before? What for the +last ten years has cost me a hundred francs to make, would have cost me +only fifty, without reckoning an enormous saving of time.' 'Sir, answers +the workman, who is not more stupid than others, "what interest had I, +that you should effect a saving of fifty per cent? None. But now it is +different. You give me, besides my wages, a share in your profits; you +raise me in my own esteem, by consulting my experience and knowledge. +Instead of treating me as an inferior being, you enter into communion +with me. It is my interest, it is my duty, to tell you all I know, and +to try to acquire more.' And thus it is, Mdlle. Angela, that the +speculator can organize his establishment, so as to shame his +oppositionists, and provoke their envy. Now if, instead of a cold- +hearted calculator, we tape a man who unites with the knowledge of these +facts the tender and generous sympathies of an evangelical heart, and the +elevation of a superior mind, he will extend his ardent solicitude; not +only to the material comfort, but to the moral emancipation, of his +workmen. Seeking everywhere every possible means to develop their +intelligence, to improve their hearts, and strong in the authority +acquired by his beneficence, feeling that he on whom depends the +happiness or the misery of three hundred human creatures has also the +care of souls, he will be the guide of those whom he no longer calls his +workmen, but his brothers, in a straightforward and noble path, and will +try to create in them the taste for knowledge and art, which will render +them happy and proud of a condition of life that is often accepted by +others with tears and curses of despair. Well, Mdlle. Angela, such a man +is--but, see! he could not arrive amongst us except in the middle of a +blessing. There he is--there is M. Hardy!" + +"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, deeply moved, and drying her tears; "we +should receive him with our hands clasped in gratitude." + +"Look if that mild and noble countenance is not the image of his +admirable soul!" + +A carriage with post horses, in which was M. Hardy, with M. de Blessac, +the unworthy friend who was betraying him in so infamous a manner, +entered at this moment the courtyard of the factory. + +A little while after, a humble hackney-coach was seen advancing also +towards the factory, from the direction of Paris. In this coach was +Rodin. + +[30] The average price of a workman's lodging, composed of two small +rooms and a closet at most, on the third or fourth story. + +[31] This calculation is amply sufficient, if not excessive. A similar +building, at one league from Paris, on the side of Montrouge, with all +the necessary offices, kitchen, wash-houses, etc., with gas and water +laid on, apparatus for warming, etc., and a garden of ten acres, cost, at +the period of this narrative, hardly five hundred thousand francs. An +experienced builder less obliged us with an estimate, which confirms what +we advance. It is, therefore, evident, that, even at the same price +which workmen are in the habit of paying, it would be possible to provide +them with perfectly healthy lodgings, and yet invest one's money at ten +per cent. + +[32] The fact was proved in the works connected with the Rouen Railway. +Those French workmen who, having no families, were able to live like the +English, did at least as much work as the latter, being strengthened by +wholesome and sufficient nourishment. + +[33] Buying penny-worths, like all other purchases at minute retail, are +greatly to the poor man's disadvantage. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +REVELATIONS. + +During the visit of Angela and Agricola to the Common Dwelling-house, the +band of Wolves, joined upon the road by many of the haunters of taverns, +continued to march towards the factory, which the hackney-coach, that +brought Rodin from Paris, was also fast approaching. M. Hardy, on +getting out of the carriage with his friend, M. de Blessac, had entered +the parlor of the house that he occupied next the factory. M. Hardy was +of middle size, with an elegant and slight figure, which announced a +nature essentially nervous and impressionable. His forehead was broad +and open, his complexion pale, his eyes black, full at once of mildness +and penetration, his countenance honest, intelligent, and attractive. + +One word will paint the character of M. Hardy. His mother had called him +her Sensitive Plant. His was indeed one of those fine and exquisitely +delicate organizations, which are trusting, loving, noble, generous, but +so susceptible, that the least touch makes them shrink into themselves. +If we join to this excessive sensibility a passionate love for art, a +first-rate intellect, tastes essentially refined, and then think of the +thousand deceptions, and numberless infamies of which M. Hardy must have +been the victim in his career as a manufacturer, we shall wonder how this +heart, so delicate and tender, had not been broken a thousand times, in +its incessant struggle with merciless self-interest. M. Hardy had indeed +suffered much. Forced to follow the career of productive industry, to +honor the engagements of his father, a model of uprightness and probity, +who had yet left his affairs somewhat embarrassed, in consequence of the +events of 1815, he had succeeded, by perseverance and capacity, in +attaining one of the most honorable positions in the commercial world. +But, to arrive at this point, what ignoble annoyances had he to bear +with, what perfidious opposition to combat, what hateful rivalries to +tire out! + +Sensitive as he was, M. Hardy would a thousand times have fallen a victim +to his emotions of painful indignation against baseness, of bitter +disgust at dishonesty, but for the wise and firm support of his mother. +When he returned to her, after a day of painful struggles with odious +deceptions, he found himself suddenly transported into an atmosphere of +such beneficent purity, of such radiant serenity, that he lost almost on +the instant the remembrance of the base things by which he had been so +cruelly tortured during the day; the pangs of his heart were appeased at +the mere contact of her great and lofty soul; and therefore his love for +her resembled idolatry. When he lost her, he experienced one of those +calm, deep sorrows which have no end--which become, as it were, part of +life, and have even sometimes their days of melancholy sweetness. A +little while after this great misfortune, M. Hardy became more closely +connected with his workmen. He had always been a just and good master; +but, although the place that his mother left in his heart would ever +remain void, he felt as it were a redoubled overflowing of the +affections, and the more he suffered, the more he craved to see happy +faces around him. The wonderful ameliorations, which he now produced in +the physical and moral condition of all about him, served, not to divert, +but to occupy his grief. Little by little, he withdrew from the world, +and concentrated his life in three affections: a tender and devoted +friendship, which seemed to include all past friendships--a love ardent +and sincere, like a last passion--and a paternal attachment to his +workmen. His days therefore passed in the heart of that little world, so +full of respect and gratitude towards him--a world, which he had, as it +were, created after the image of his mind, that he might find there a +refuge from the painful realities he dreaded, surrounded with good, +intelligent, happy beings, capable of responding to the noble thoughts +which had become more and more necessary to his existence. Thus, after +many sorrows, M. Hardy, arrived at the maturity of age, possessing a +sincere friend, a mistress worthy of his love, and knowing himself +certain of the passionate devotion of his workmen, had attained, at the +period of this history, all the happiness he could hope for since his +mother's death. + +M. de Blessac, his bosom friend, had long been worthy of his touching and +fraternal affection; but we have seen by what diabolical means Father +d'Aigrigny and Rodin had succeeded in making M. de Blessac, until then +upright and sincere, the instrument of their machinations. The two +friends, who had felt on their journey a little of the sharp influence of +the north wind, were warming themselves at a good fire lighted in M. +Hardy's parlor. + +"Oh! my dear Marcel, I begin really to get old," said M. Hardy, with a +smile, addressing M. de Blessac; "I feel more and more the want of being +at home. To depart from my usual habits has become painful to me, and I +execrate whatever obliges me to leave this happy little spot of ground." + +"And when I think," answered M. de Blessac, unable to forbear blushing, +"when I think, my friend, that you undertook this long journey only for +my sake!--" + +"Well, my dear Marcel! have you not just accompanied me in your turn, in +an excursion which, without you, would have been as tiresome as it has +been charming?" + +"What a difference, my friend! I have contracted towards you a debt that +I can never repay." + +"Nonsense, my dear Marcel! Between us, there are no distinctions of meum +and tuum. Besides, in matters of friendship, it is as sweet to give as +to receive." + +"Noble heart! noble heart!" + +"Say, happy heart!--most happy, in the last affections for which it +beats." + +"And who, gracious heaven! could deserve happiness on earth, if it be not +you, my friend?" + +"And to what do I owe that happiness? To the affections which I found +here, ready to sustain me, when deprived of the support of my mother, who +was all my strength, I felt myself (I confess my weakness) almost +incapable of standing up against adversity." + +"You, my friend--with so firm and resolute a character in doing good-- +you, that I have seen struggle with so much energy and courage, to secure +the triumph of some great and noble idea?" + +"Yes; but the farther I advance in my career, the more am I disgusted +with all base and shameful actions, and the less strength I feel to +encounter them--" + +"Were it necessary, you would have the courage, my friend." + +"My dear Marcel," replied M. Hardy, with mild and restrained emotion, "I +have often said to you: My courage was my mother. You see, my friend, +when I went to her, with my heart torn by some horrible ingratitude, or +disgusted by some base deceit, she, taking my hands between her own +venerable palms, would say to me in her grave and tender voice: 'My dear +child, it is for the ungrateful and dishonest to suffer; let us pity the +wicked, let us forget evil, and only think of good.'--Then, my friend, +this heart, painfully contracted, expanded beneath the sacred influence +of the maternal words, and every day I gathered strength from her, to +recommence on the morrow a cruel struggle with the sad necessities of my +condition. Happily, it has pleased God, that, after losing that beloved +mother, I have been able to bind up my life with affections, deprived of +which, I confess, I should find myself feeble and disarmed for you cannot +tell, Marcel, the support, the strength that I have found in your +friendship." + +"Do not speak of me, my dear friend," replied M. de Blessac, dissembling +his embarrassment. "Let us talk of another affection, almost as sweet +and tender as that of a mother." + +"I understand you, my good Marcel," replied M. Hardy: "I have concealed +nothing from you since, under such serious circumstances, I had recourse +to the counsels of your friendship. Well! yes; I think that every day I +live augment my adoration for this woman, the only one that I have ever +passionately loved, the only one that I shall now ever love. And then I +must tell you, that my mother, not knowing what Margaret was to me, as +often loud in her praise, and that circumstance renders this love almost +sacred in my eyes." + +"And then there are such strange resemblances between Mme. de Noisy's +character and yours, my friend; above all, in her worship of her mother." + +"It is true, Marcel; that affection has often caused me both admiration +and torment. How often she has said to me, with her habitual frankness: +'I have sacrificed all for you, but I would sacrifice you for my +mother.'" + +"Thank heaven, my friend, you will never see Mme. de Noisy exposed to +that cruel choice. Her mother, you say, has long renounced her intention +of returning to America, where M. de Noisy, perfectly careless of his +wife, appears to have settled himself permanently. Thanks to the +discreet devotion of the excellent woman by whom Margaret was brought up, +your love is concealed in the deepest mystery. What could disturb it +now?" + +"Nothing--oh! nothing," cried M. Hardy. "I have almost security for its +duration." + +"What do you mean, my friend?" + +"I do not know if I ought to tell you." + +"Have you ever found me indiscreet, my friend?" + +"You, good Marcel! how can you suppose such a thing?" said M. Hardy, in a +tone of friendly reproach; "no! but I do not like to tell you of my +happiness, till it is complete; and I am not yet quite certain--" + +A servant entered at this moment and said to M. Hardy: "Sir, there is an +old gentleman who wishes to speak to you on very pressing business." + +"So soon!" said M. Hardy, with a slight movement of impatience. "With +your permission, my friend." Then, as M. de Blessac seemed about to +withdraw into the next room, M. Hardy added with a smile: "No, no; do not +stir. Your presence will shorten the interview." + +"But if it be a matter of business, my friend?" + +"I do everything openly, as you know." Then, addressing the servant, M. +Hardy bade him: "Ask the gentleman to walk in." + +"The postilion wishes to know if he is to wait?" + +"Certainly: he will take M. de Blessac back to Paris." + +The servant withdrew, and presently returned, introducing Rodin, with +whom M. de Blessac was not acquainted, his treacherous bargain having +been negotiated through another agent. + +"M. Hardy?" said Rodin, bowing respectfully to the two friends, and +looking from one to the other with an air of inquiry. + +"That is my name, sir; what can I do to serve you?" answered the +manufacturer, kindly; for, at first sight of the humble and ill-dressed +old man, he expected an application for assistance. + +"M. Francois Hardy," repeated Rodin, as if he wished to make sure of the +identity of the person. + +"I have had the honor to tell you that I am he." + +"I have a private communication to make to you, sir," said Rodin. + +"You may speak, sir. This gentleman is my friend," said M. Hardy, +pointing to M. de Blessac. + +"But I wish to speak to you alone, sir," resumed Rodin. + +M. de Blessac was again about to withdraw, when M. Hardy retained him +with a glance, and said to Rodin kindly, for he thought his feelings +might be hurt by asking a favor in presence of a third party: "Permit me +to inquire if it is on your account or on mine, that you wish this +interview to be secret?" + +"On your account entirely, sir," answered Rodin. + +"Then, sir," said M. Hardy, with some surprise, "you may speak out. I +have no secrets from this gentleman." + +After a moment's silence, Rodin resumed, addressing himself to M. Hardy: +"Sir, you deserve, I know, all the good that is said of you; and you +therefore command the sympathy of every honest man." + +"I hope so, sir." + +"Now, as an honest man, I come to render you a service." + +"And this service, sir--" + +"To reveal to you an infamous piece of treachery, of which you have been +the victim." + +"I think, sir, you must be deceived." + +"I have the proofs of what I assert." + +"Proofs?" + +"The written proofs of the treachery that I come to reveal: I have them +here," answered Rodin "In a word, a man whom you believed your friend, +has shamefully deceived you, sir." + +"And the name of this man?" + +"M. Marcel de Blessac," replied Rodin. + +On these words, M. de Blessac started, and became pale as death. He +could hardly murmur: "Sir--" + +But, without looking at his friend, or perceiving his agitation, M. Hardy +seized his hand, and exclaimed hastily: "Silence, my friend!" Then, +whilst his eye flashed with indignation, he turned towards Rodin, who had +not ceased to look him full in the face, and said to him, with an air of +lofty disdain: "What! do you accuse M. de Blessac?" + +"Yes, I accuse him," replied Rodin, briefly. + +"Do you know him?" + +"I have never seen him." + +"Of what do you accuse him? And how dare you say that he has betrayed +me?" + +"Two words, if you please," said Rodin, with an emotion which he appeared +hardly able to restrain. "If one man of honor sees another about to be +slain by an assassin, ought he not give the alarm of murder?" + +"Yes, sir; but what has that to do--" + +"In my eyes, sir, certain treasons are as criminal as murders: I have +come to place myself between the assassin and his victim." + +"The assassin? the victim?" said M. Hardy more and more astonished. + +"You doubtless know M. de Blessac's writing?" said Rodin. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then read this," said Rodin, drawing from his pocket a letter, which he +handed to M. Hardy. + +Casting now for the first time a glance at M. de Blessac, the +manufacturer drew back a step, terrified at the death-like paleness of +this man, who, struck dumb with shame, could not find a word to justify +himself; for he was far from possessing the audacious effrontery +necessary to carry him through his treachery. + +"Marcel!" cried M. Hardy, in alarm, and deeply agitated by this +unexpected blow. "Marcel! how pale you are! you do not answer!" + +"Marcel! this, then, is M. de Blessac?" cried Rodin, feigning the most +painful surprise. "Oh, sir, if I had known--" + +"But don't you hear this man, Marcel?" cried M. Hardy. "He says that you +have betrayed me infamously." He seized the hand of M. de Blessac. That +hand was cold as ice. "Oh, God! Oh God!" said M. Hardy, drawing back in +horror: "he makes no answer!" + +"Since I am in presence of M. de Blessac," resumed Rodin, "I am forced to +ask him, if he can deny having addressed many letters to the Rue du +Milieu des Ursins, at Paris under cover of M. Rodin." + +M. de Blessac remained dumb. M. Hardy, still unwilling to believe what +he saw and heard, convulsively tore open the letter, which Rodin had just +delivered to him, and read the first few lines--interrupting the perusal +with exclamations of grief and amazement. He did not require to finish +the letter, to convince himself of the black treachery of M. de Blessac. +He staggered; for a moment his senses seemed to abandon him. The +horrible discovery made him giddy, and his head swam on his first look +down into that abyss of infamy. The loathsome letter dropped from his +trembling hands. But soon indignation, rage, and scorn succeeded this +moment of despair, and rushing, pale and terrible, upon M. de Blessac: +"Wretch!" he exclaimed, with a threatening gesture. But, pausing as in +the act to strike: "No!" he added, with fearful calmness. "It would be +to soil my hands." + +He turned towards Rodin, who had approached hastily, as if to interpose. +"It is not worth while chastising a wretch," said M. Hardy; "But I will +press your honest hand, sir--for you have had the courage to unmask a +traitor and a coward." + +"Sir!" cried M. de Blessac, overcome with shame; "I am at your orders-- +and--" + +He could not finish. The sound of voices was heard behind the door, +which opened violently, and an aged woman entered, in spite of the +efforts of the servant, exclaiming in an agitated voice: "I tell you, I +must speak instantly to your master." + +On hearing this voice, and at sight of the pale, weeping woman, M. Hardy, +forgetting M. de Blessac, Rodin, the infamous treachery, and all, fell +back a step, and exclaimed: "Madame Duparc! you here! What is the +matter?" + +"Oh, sir! a great misfortune--" + +"Margaret!" cried M. Hardy, in a tone of despair. + +"She is gone, sir!" + +"Gone!" repeated M. Hardy, as horror-struck as if a thunderbolt had +fallen at his feet. "Margaret gone!" + +"All is discovered. Her mother took her away--three days ago!" said the +unhappy woman, in a failing voice. + +"Gone! Margaret! It is not true. You deceive me," cried M. Hardy. +Refusing to hear more, wild, despairing, he rushed out of the house, +threw himself into his carriage, to which the post-horses were still +harnessed, waiting for M. de Blessac, and said to the postilion: "To +Paris! as fast as you can go!" + +As the carriage, rapid as lightning, started upon the road to Paris, the +wind brought nearer the distant sound of the war-song of the Wolves, who +were rushing towards the factory. In this impending destruction, see +Rodin's subtle hand, administering his fatal blows to clear his way up to +the chair of St. Peter to which he aspired. His tireless, wily course +can hardly be darker shadowed by aught save that dread coming horror the +Cholera, whose aid he evoked, and whose health the Bacchanal Queen wildly +drank. + +That once gay girl, and her poor famished sister; the fair patrician and +her Oriental lover; Agricola, the workman, and his veteran father; the +smiling Rose-Pompon, and the prematurely withered Jacques Rennepont; +Father d'Aigrigny, the mock priest; and Gabriel, the true disciple; with +the rest that have been named and others yet to be pictured, in the blaze +of the bolts of their life's paths, will be seen in the third and +concluding part of this romance entitled, "THE WANDERING JEW: +REDEMPTION." + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Wandering Jew, v7 +by Eugene Sue + diff --git a/old/es07v11.zip b/old/es07v11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f9116d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/es07v11.zip |