Love,pure,andsanctioned,thelovemyfather,nowreturningrichandprosperous,willauthorize,hasraisedmewithitspowerfulyetchildlikehandfromthegraveinwhichIslept。Youhavewakenedmeasthesunwakenstheflowers。TheeyesofyourbelovedarenolongerthoseofthelittleModestesodaringinherignorance,——no,theyaredimmedwiththesightofhappiness,andthelidscloseoverthem。To—dayItremblelestIcanneverdeservemyfate。Thekinghascomeinhisglory;mylordhasnowasubjectwhoaskspardonforthelibertiesshehastaken,likethegamblerwithloadeddiceaftercheatingMonsieurdeGrammont。
Mycherishedpoet!IwillbethyMignon——happierfarthantheMignonofGoethe,forthouwiltleavemeinmineownland,——inthyheart。JustasIwritethispledgeofourbetrothalanightingaleintheVilquinparkanswersforthee。Ah,tellmequickthathisnote,sopure,soclear,sofull,whichfillsmyheartwithjoyandlovelikeanAnnunciation,doesnotlietome。
MyfatherwillpassthroughParisonhiswayfromMarseilles;thehouseofMongenod,withwhomhecorresponds,willknowhisaddress。Gotohim,myMelchior,tellhimthatyouloveme;butdonottrytotellhimhowIloveyou,——letthatbeforeverbetweenourselvesandGod。I,mydearone,amabouttotelleverythingtomymother。Herheartwilljustifymyconduct;shewillrejoiceinoursecretpoem,soromantic,humananddivineinone。
Youhavetheconfessionofthedaughter;youmustnowobtaintheconsentoftheComtedeLaBastie,fatherofyourModeste。
P。S。——Aboveall,donotcometoHavrewithouthavingfirstobtainedmyfather’sconsent。IfyoulovemeyouwillnotfailtofindhimonhiswaythroughParis。
"Whatareyoudoing,upatthishour,MademoiselleModeste?"saidthevoiceofDumayatherdoor。
"Writingtomyfather,"sheanswered;"didyounottellmeyoushouldstartinthemorning?"
Dumayhadnothingtosaytothat,andhewenttobed,whileModestewroteanotherlongletter,thistimetoherfather。
Onthemorrow,FrancoisCochet,terrifiedatseeingtheHavrepostmarkontheenvelopewhichErnesthadmailedthenightbefore,broughtheryoungmistressthefollowingletterandtookawaytheonewhichModestehadwritten:——
ToMademoiselleO。d’EsteM。,——Myhearttellsmethatyouwerethewomansocarefullyveiledanddisguised,andseatedbetweenMonsieurandMadameLatournelle,whohavebutonechild,ason。
Ah,mylove,ifyouhaveonlyamodeststation,withoutdistinction,withoutimportance,withoutmoneyeven,youdonotknowhowhappythatwouldmakeme。Yououghttounderstandmebythistime;whywillyounottellmethetruth?Iamnopoet,——
exceptinheart,throughlove,throughyou。Oh!whatpowerofaffectionthereisinmetokeepmehereinthishotel,insteadofmountingtoIngouvillewhichIcanseefrommywindows。WillyoueverlovemeasIloveyou?ToleaveHavreinsuchuncertainty!AmInotpunishedforlovingyouasifIhadcommittedacrime?ButI
obeyyoublindly。Letmehavealetterquickly,forifyouhavebeenmysterious,Ihavereturnedyoumysteryformystery,andI
mustatlastthrowoffmydisguise,showyouthepoetthatIam,andabdicatemyborrowedglory。
ThislettermadeModesteterriblyuneasy。ShecouldnotgetbacktheonewhichFrancoisehadcarriedawaybeforeshecametothelastwords,whosemeaningshenowsoughtbyreadingthemagainandagain;
butshewenttoherownroomandwroteananswerinwhichshedemandedanimmediateexplanation。
CHAPTERXIV
MATTERSGROWNCOMPLICATED
DuringtheselittleeventsotherlittleeventsweregoingoninHavre,whichcausedModestetoforgetherpresentuneasiness。DumaywentdowntoHavreearlyinthemorning,andsoondiscoveredthatnoarchitecthadbeenintownthedaybefore。FuriousatButscha’slie,whichrevealedaconspiracyofwhichhewasresolvedtoknowthemeaning,herushedfromthemayor’sofficetohisfriendLatournelle。
"Where’syourMasterButscha?"hedemandedofthenotary,whenhesawthattheclerkwasnotinhisplace。
"Butscha,mydearfellow,hasgonetoParis。Heheardsomenewsofhisfatherthismorningonthequays,fromaSwedishsailor。ItseemsthefatherwenttotheIndiesandservedaprince,orsomething,andheisnowinParis。"
"Lies!it’sallatrick!infamous!I’llfindthatdamnedcrippleifI’vegottogoexpresstoParisforhim,"criedDumay。"Butschaisdeceivingus;heknowssomethingaboutModeste,andhasn’ttoldus。Ifhemeddlesinthisthingheshallneverbeanotary。I’llrollhiminthemudfromwhichhecame,I’ll——"
"Come,come,myfriend;neverhangamanbeforeyoutryhim,"saidLatournelle,frightenedatDumay’srage。
Afterstatingthefactsonwhichhissuspicionswerefounded,DumaybeggedMadameLatournelletogoandstayattheChaletduringhisabsence。
"YouwillfindthecolonelinParis,"saidthenotary。"IntheshippingnewsquotedthismorningintheJournalofCommerce,IfoundundertheheadofMarseilles——here,seeforyourself,"hesaid,offeringthepaper。"’TheBettinaMignon,CaptainMignon,arrivedOctober6’;itisnowthe17th,andthecolonelissuretobeinParis。"
DumayrequestedGobenheimtodowithouthiminfuture,andthenwentbacktotheChalet,whichhereachedjustasModestewassealinghertwoletters,toherfatherandCanalis。Exceptfortheaddresstheletterswerepreciselyalikebothinweightandappearance。ModestethoughtshehadlaidthattoherfatheroverthattoherMelchior,buthad,infact,doneexactlythereverse。Thismistake,sooftenmadeinthelittlethingsoflife,occasionedthediscoveryofhersecretbyDumayandhermother。TheformerwastalkingvehementlytoMadameMignoninthesalon,andrevealingtoherhisfreshfearscausedbyModeste’sduplicityandButscha’sconnivance。
"Madame,"hecried,"heisaserpentwhomwehavewarmedinourbosoms;there’snoplaceinhiscontortedlittlebodyforasoul!"
Modesteputtheletterforherfatherintothepocketofherapron,supposingittobethatforCanalis,andcamedownstairswiththeletterforherloverinherhand,toseeDumaybeforehestartedforParis。
"WhathashappenedtomyBlackDwarf?whyareyoutalkingsoloud!"
shesaid,appearingatthedoor。
"Mademoiselle,ButschahasgonetoParis,andyou,nodoubt,knowwhy,——tocarryonthataffairofthelittlearchitectwiththesulphurwaistcoat,who,unluckilyforthehunchback’slies,hasneverbeenhere。"
Modestewasstruckdumb;feelingsurethatthedwarfhaddepartedonamissionofinquiryastoherpoet’smorals,sheturnedpale,andsatdown。
"I’mgoingafterhim;Ishallfindhim,"continuedDumay。"Isthattheletterforyourfather,mademoiselle?"headded,holdingouthishand。
"IwilltakeittotheMongenods。GodgrantthecolonelandImaynotpasseachotherontheroad。"
Modestegavehimtheletter。Dumaylookedmechanicallyattheaddress。
"’MonsieurleBarondeCanalis,ruedeParadis—Poissoniere,No。29’!"
hecriedout;"whatdoesthatmean?"
"Ah,mydaughter!thatisthemanyoulove,"exclaimedMadameMignon;
"thestanzasyousettomusicwerehis——"
"Andthat’shisportraitthatyouhaveinaframeupstairs,"addedDumay。
"Givemebackthatletter,MonsieurDumay,"saidModeste,erectingherselflikealionessdefendinghercubs。
"Thereitis,mademoiselle,"hereplied。
Modesteputitintothebosomofherdress,andgaveDumaytheoneintendedforherfather。
"Iknowwhatyouarecapableof,Dumay,"shesaid;"andifyoutakeonestepagainstMonsieurdeCanalis,Ishalltakeanotheroutofthishouse,towhichIwillneverreturn。"
"Youwillkillyourmother,mademoiselle,"repliedDumay,wholefttheroomandcalledhiswife。
Thepoormotherwasindeedhalf—fainting,——strucktotheheartbyModeste’swords。
"Good—bye,wife,"saidtheBreton,kissingtheAmerican。"Takecareofthemother;Igotosavethedaughter。"
Hemadehispreparationsforthejourneyinafewminutes,andstartedforHavre。AnhourlaterhewastravellingposttoParis,withthehastethatnothingbutpassionorspeculationcangetoutofwheels。
RecoveringherselfunderModeste’stendercare,MadameMignonwentuptoherbedroomleaningonthearmofherdaughter,towhomshesaid,ashersolereproach,whentheywerealone:——
"Myunfortunatechild,seewhatyouhavedone!Whydidyouconcealanythingfromme?AmIsoharsh?"
"Oh!Iwasjustgoingtotellittoyoucomfortably,"sobbedModeste。
Shethereuponrelatedeverythingtohermother,readherthelettersandtheiranswers,andshedtheroseofherpoempetalbypetalintotheheartofthekindGermanwoman。Whenthisconfidence,whichtookhalftheday,wasover,whenshesawsomethingthatwasalmostasmileonthelipsofthetooindulgentmother,Modestefelluponherbreastintears。
"Oh,mother!"shesaidamidhersobs,"you,whoseheart,allgoldandpoetry,isachosenvessel,chosenofGodtoholdasacredlove,asingleandcelestiallovethatenduresforlife;you,whomIwishtoimitatebylovingnoonebutmyhusband,——youwillsurelyunderstandwhatbittertearsIamnowshedding。Thisbutterfly,thisPsycheofmythoughts,thisdualsoulwhichIhavenurturedwithmaternalcare,mylove,mysacredlove,thislivingmysteryofmysteries——itisabouttofallintovulgarhands,andtheywilltearitsdiaphanouswingsandrenditsveilunderthemiserablepretextofenlighteningme,ofdiscoveringwhethergeniusisasprudentasabanker,whethermyMelchiorhassavedhismoney,orwhetherhehassomeentanglementtoshakeoff;theywanttofindoutifheisguiltytobourgeoiseyesofyouthfulindiscretions,——whichtothesunofourlovearelikethecloudsofthedawn。Oh!whatwillcomeofit?whatwilltheydo?See!
feelmyhand,itburnswithfever。Ah!Ishallneversurviveit。"
AndModeste,reallytakenwithachill,wasforcedtogotobed,causingseriousuneasinesstohermother,MadameLatournelle,andMadameDumay,whotookgoodcareofherduringthejourneyofthelieutenanttoParis,——towhichcitythelogicofeventscompelsustotransportourdramaforamoment。
Trulymodestminds,likethatofErnestdeLaBriere,butespeciallythosewho,knowingtheirownvalue,alsoknowthattheyareneitherlovednorappreciated,canunderstandtheinfinitejoytowhichtheyoungsecretaryabandonedhimselfonreadingModeste’sletter。Coulditbethatafterthinkinghimloftyandwittyinsoul,hisyoung,hisartless,histricksomemistressnowthoughthimhandsome?Thisflatteryistheflatterysupreme。Andwhy?Beautyis,undoubtedly,thesignatureofthemastertotheworkintowhichhehasputhissoul;itisthedivinespiritmanifested。Andtoseeitwhereitisnot,tocreateitbythepowerofaninwardlook,——isnotthatthehighestreachoflove?Andsothepooryouthcriedaloudwithalltheraptureofanapplaudedauthor,"AtlastIambeloved!"Whenawoman,beshemaid,wife,orwidow,letsthecharmingwordsescapeher,"Thouarthandsome,"thewordsmaybefalse,butthemanopenshisthickskulltotheirsubtlepoison,andthenceforthheisattachedbyaneverlastingtietotheprettyflatterer,thetrueorthedeceivedjudge;shebecomeshisparticularworld,hethirstsforhercontinualtestimony,andheneverweariesofit,evenifheisacrownedprince。
Ernestwalkedproudlyupanddownhisroom;hestruckathree—quarter,full—face,andprofileattitudebeforetheglass;hetriedtocriticisehimself;butavoice,diabolicallypersuasive,whisperedtohim,"Modesteisright。"Hetookupherletterandre—readit;hesawhisfairestofthefair;hetalkedwithher;then,inthemidstofhisecstacy,adreadfulthoughtcametohim:——
"ShethinksmeCanalis,andshehasamillionofmoney!"
Downwenthishappiness,justasasomnambulist,havingattainedthepeakofaroof,hearsavoice,awakes,andfallscrusheduponthepavement。
"WithoutthehalooffameIshallbehideousinhereyes,"hecried;
"whatamaddeningsituationIhaveputmyselfin!"
LaBrierewastoomuchthemanofhisletterswhichwehaveread,hisheartwastoonobleandpuretoallowhimtohesitateatthecallofhonor。HeatonceresolvedtofindModeste’sfather,ifhewereinParis,andconfessalltohim,andtoletCanalisknowtheseriousresultsoftheirParisianjest。Toasensitivenaturelikehis,Modeste’slargefortunewasinitselfadeterminingreason。Hecouldnotallowittobeevensuspectedthattheardorofthecorrespondence,sosincereonhispart,hadinviewthecaptureofa"dot。"TearswereinhiseyesashemadehiswaytotherueChantereinetofindthebankerMongenod,whosefortuneandbusinessconnectionswerepartlytheworkoftheministertowhomErnestowedhisstartinlife。
AtthehourwhenLaBrierewasinquiringaboutthefatherofhisbelovedfromtheheadofthehouseofMongenod,andgettinginformationthatmightbeusefultohiminhisstrangeposition,ascenewastakingplaceinCanalis’sstudywhichtheex—lieutenant’shastydeparturefromHavremayhaveledthereadertoforesee。
Likeatruesoldieroftheimperialschool,Dumay,whoseBretonbloodhadboiledallthewaytoParis,consideredapoettobeapoorstickofafellow,ofnoconsequencewhatever,——abuffoonaddictedtochoruses,livinginagarret,dressedinblackclothesthatwerewhiteateveryseam,wearingbootsthatwereoccasionallywithoutsoles,andlinenthatwasunmentionable,andwhosefingersknewmoreaboutinkthansoap;inshort,onewholookedalwaysasifhehadtumbledfromthemoon,exceptwhenscribblingatadesk,likeButscha。ButtheseethingoftheBreton’sheartandbrainreceivedaviolentapplicationofcoldwaterwhenheenteredthecourtyardoftheprettyhouseoccupiedbythepoetandsawagroomwashingacarriage,andalso,throughthewindowsofahandsomedining—room,avaletdressedlikeabanker,towhomthegroomreferredhim,andwhoanswered,lookingthestrangeroverfromheadtofoot,thatMonsieurlebaronwasnotvisible。"Thereis,"addedtheman,"ameetingofthecouncilofstateto—day,atwhichMonsieurlebaronisobligedtobepresent。"
"IsthisreallythehouseofMonsieurCanalis,"saidDumay,"awriterofpoetry?"
"MonsieurlebarondeCanalis,"repliedthevalet,"isthegreatpoetofwhomyouspeak;butheisalsothepresidentofthecourtofClaimsattachedtotheministryofforeignaffairs。"
Dumay,whohadcometoboxtheearsofascribblingnobody,foundhimselfconfrontedbyahighfunctionaryofthestate。Thesalonwherehewastoldtowaitoffered,asatopicforhismeditations,theinsigniaoftheLegionofhonorglitteringonablackcoatwhichthevalethadleftuponachair。Presentlyhiseyeswereattractedbythebeautyandbrilliancyofasilver—giltcupbearingthewords"GivenbyMADAME。"Thenhebeheldbeforehim,onapedestal,aSevresvaseonwhichwasengraved,"ThegiftofMadamelaDAUPHINE。"
ThesemuteadmonitionsbroughtDumaytohissenseswhilethevaletwenttoaskhismasterifhewouldreceiveapersonwhohadcomefromHavreexpresslytoseehim,——astrangernamedDumay。
"Whatsortofaman?"askedCanalis。
"Heiswell—dressed,andwearstheribbonoftheLegionofhonor。"
Canalismadeasignofassent,andthevaletretreated,andthenreturnedandannounced,"MonsieurDumay。"
Whenheheardhimselfannounced,whenhewasactuallyinpresenceofCanalis,inastudyasgorgeousasitwaselegant,withhisfeetonacarpetfarhandsomerthananyinthehouseofMignon,andwhenhemetthestudiedglanceofthepoetwhowasplayingwiththetasselsofasumptuousdressing—gown,Dumaywassocompletelytakenabackthatheallowedthegreatpoettohavethefirstword。
"TowhatdoIowethehonorofyourvisit,monsieur?"
"Monsieur,"beganDumay,whoremainedstanding。
"Ifyouhaveagooddealtosay,"interruptedCanalis,"Imustaskyoutobeseated。"
AndCanalishimselfplungedintoanarmchairalaVoltaire,crossedhislegs,raisedtheupperonetothelevelofhiseyeandlookedfixedlyatDumay,whobecame,tousehisownmartialslang,"bayonetted。"
"Iamlistening,monsieur,"saidthepoet;"mytimeisprecious,——theministersareexpectingme。"
"Monsieur,"saidDumay,"Ishallbebrief。Youhaveseduced——how,Idonotknow——ayoungladyinHavre,young,beautiful,andrich;thelastandonlyhopeoftwonoblefamilies;andIhavecometoaskyourintentions。"
Canalis,whohadbeenbusyduringthelastthreemonthswithseriousmattersofhisown,andwastryingtogethimselfmadecommanderoftheLegionofhonorandministertoaGermancourt,hadcompletelyforgottenModeste’sletter。"
"I!"heexclaimed。
"You!"repeatedDumay。
"Monsieur,"answeredCanalis,smiling;"IknownomoreofwhatyouaretalkingaboutthanifyouhadsaiditinHebrew。Iseduceayounggirl!I,who——"andasuperbsmilecrossedhisfeatures。"Come,come,monsieur,I’mnotsuchachildastostealfruitoverthehedgeswhenIhaveorchardsandgardensofmyownwherethefinestpeachesripen。
AllParisknowswheremyaffectionsareset。VerylikelytheremaybesomeyounggirlinHavrefullofenthusiasmformyverses,——ofwhichtheyarenotworthy;thatwouldnotsurprisemeatall;nothingismorecommon。See!lookatthatlovelycofferofebonyinlaidwithmother—of—pearl,andedgedwiththatiron—workasfineaslace。ThatcofferbelongedtoPopeLeoX。,andwasgiventomebytheDuchessedeChaulieu,whoreceiveditfromthekingofSpain。IuseittoholdthelettersIreceivefromladiesandyounggirlslivingineveryquarterofEurope。Oh!IassureyouIfeeltheutmostrespectfortheseflowersofthesoul,cutandsentinmomentsofenthusiasmthatareworthyofallreverence。Yes,tometheimpulseofaheartisanobleandsublimething!Others——scoffers——lighttheircigarswithsuchletters,orgivethemtotheirwivesforcurl—papers;butI,whoamabachelor,monsieur,Ihavetoomuchdelicacynottopreservetheseartlessofferings——sofresh,sodisinterested——inatabernacleoftheirown。Infact,Iguardthemwithaspeciesofveneration,andatmydeaththeywillbeburnedbeforemyeyes。Peoplemaycallthatridiculous,butIdonotcare。Iamgrateful;theseproofsofdevotionenablemetobearthecriticismsandannoyancesofaliterarylife。
WhenIreceiveashotinthebackfromsomeenemylurkingundercoverofadailypaper,Ilookatthatcasketandthink,——hereandthereinthiswideworldthereareheartswhosewoundshavebeenhealed,orsoothed,ordressedbyme!"
Thisbitofpoetry,declaimedwithallthetalentofagreatactor,petrifiedthelieutenant,whoseeyesopenedtotheirutmostextent,andwhoseastonishmentdelightedthepoet。
"Iwillpermityou,"continuedthepeacock,spreadinghistail,"outofrespectforyourposition,whichIfullyappreciate,toopenthatcofferandlookfortheletterofyouryounglady。ThoughIknowIamright,Iremembernames,andIassureyouyouaremistakeninthinking——"
"AndthisiswhatapoorchildcomestointhisgulfofParis!"criedDumay,——"thedarlingofherparents,thejoyofherfriends,thehopeofall,pettedbyall,theprideofafamily,whohassixpersonssodevotedtoherthattheywouldwillinglymakearampartoftheirlivesandfortunesbetweenherandsorrow。Monsieur,"Dumayremarkedafterapause,"youareagreatpoet,andIamonlyapoorsoldier。ForfifteenyearsIservedmycountryintheranks;Ihavehadthewindofmanyabulletinmyface;IhavecrossedSiberiaandbeenaprisonerthere;theRussiansflungmeonakibitka,andGodknowswhatI
suffered。Ihaveseenthousandsofmycomradesdie,——butyou,youhavegivenmeachilltothemarrowofmybones,suchasIneverfeltbefore。"
Dumayfanciedthathiswordsmovedthepoet,butinfacttheyonlyflatteredhim,——athingwhichatthisperiodofhislifehadbecomealmostanimpossibility;forhisambitiousmindhadlongforgottenthefirstperfumedphialthatpraisehadbrokenoverhishead。
"Ah,mysoldier!"hesaidsolemnly,layinghishandonDumay’sshoulder,andthinkingtohimselfhowdrollitwastomakeasoldieroftheempiretremble,"thisyounggirlmaybeallinalltoyou,buttosocietyatlargewhatisshe?nothing。AtthismomentthegreatestmandarininChinamaybeyieldinguptheghostandputtinghalftheuniverseinmourning,andwhatisthattoyou?TheEnglisharekillingthousandsofpeopleinIndiamoreworthythanweare;why,atthisverymomentwhileIamspeakingtoyousomeravishingwomanisbeingburnedalive,——didthatmakeyoucarelessforyourcupofcoffeethismorningatbreakfast?NotadaypassesinParisthatsomemotherinragsdoesnotcastherinfantontheworldtobepickedupbywhoeverfindsit;andyetsee!hereisthisdeliciousteainacupthatcostfivelouis,andIwriteverseswhichParisianwomenrushtobuy,exclaiming,’Divine!delicious!charming!foodforthesoul!’Socialnature,likeNatureherself,isagreatforgetter。Youwillbequitesurprisedtenyearshenceatwhatyouhavedoneto—day。Youarehereinacitywherepeopledie,wheretheymarry,wheretheyadoreeachotheratanassignation,whereyounggirlssuffocatethemselves,wherethemanofgeniuswithhiscargoofthoughtsteemingwithhumanebeneficencegoestothebottom,——allsidebyside,sometimesunderthesameroof,andyetignorantofeachother,ignorantandindifferent。
Andhereyoucomeamongusandaskustoexpirewithgriefatthiscommonplaceaffair。"
"Youcallyourselfapoet!"criedDumay,"butdon’tyoufeelwhatyouwrite?"
"Goodheavens!ifweenduredthejoysorthewoeswesingweshouldbeaswornoutinthreemonthsasapairofoldboots,"saidthepoet,smiling。"Butstay,youshallnotcomefromHavretoParistoseeCanaliswithoutcarryingsomethingbackwithyou。Warrior!"(CanalishadtheformandactionofanHomerichero)"learnthisfromthepoet:
Everynoblesentimentinmanisapoemsoexclusivelyindividualthathisnearestfriend,hisotherself,caresnothingforit。Itisatreasurewhichishisalone,itis——"
"Forgivemeforinterruptingyou,"saidDumay,whowasgazingatthepoetwithhorror,"butdidyouevercometoHavre?"
"Iwasthereforadayandanightinthespringof1824onmywaytoLondon。"
"Youareamanofhonor,"continuedDumay;"willyougivemeyourwordthatyoudonotknowMademoiselleModesteMignon?"
"Thisisthefirsttimethatnameeverstruckmyear,"repliedCanalis。
"Ah,monsieur!"saidDumay,"intowhatdarkintrigueamIabouttoplunge?CanIcountuponyoutohelpmeinmyinquiries?——forIamcertainthatsomeonehasbeenusingyourname。YououghttohavehadaletteryesterdayfromHavre。"
"Ireceivednone。Besure,monsieur,thatIwillhelpyou,"saidCanalis,"sofarasIhavetheopportunityofdoingso。"
Dumaywithdrew,hishearttornwithanxiety,believingthatthewretchedButschahadworntheskinofthepoettodeceiveModeste;
whereasButschahimself,keen—wittedasaprinceseekingrevenge,andfarclevererthananypaidspy,wasferrettingoutthelifeandactionsofCanalis,escapingnoticebyhisinsignificance,likeaninsectthatboresitswayintothesapofatree。
TheBretonhadscarcelyleftthepoet’shousewhenLaBriereenteredhisfriend’sstudy。Naturally,CanalistoldhimofthevisitofthemanfromHavre。
"Ha!"saidErnest,"ModesteMignon;thatisjustwhatIhavecometospeakof。"
"Ah,bah!"criedCanalis;"haveIhadatriumphbyproxy?"
"Yes;andhereisthekeytoit。Myfriend,Iamlovedbythesweetestgirlinalltheworld,——beautifulenoughtoshinebesidethegreatestbeautiesinParis,withaheartandmindworthyofClarissa。Shehasseenme;Ihavepleasedher,andshethinksmethegreatCanalis。Butthatisnotall。ModesteMignonisofhighbirth,andMongenodhasjusttoldmethatherfather,theComtedeLaBastie,hassomethinglikesixmillions。Thefatherisherenow,andIhaveaskedhimthroughMongenodforaninterviewattwoo’clock。Mongenodistogivehimahint,justaword,thatitconcernsthehappinessofhisdaughter。ButyouwillreadilyunderstandthatbeforeseeingthefatherIfeelIoughttomakeacleanbreastofittoyou。"
"Amongtheplantswhoseflowersbloominthesunshineoffame,"saidCanalis,impressively,"thereisone,andthemostmagnificent,whichbearsliketheorange—treeagoldenfruitamidthemingledperfumesofbeautyandofmind;alovelyplant,atruetenderness,aperfectbliss,and——iteludesme。"CanalislookedatthecarpetthatErnestmightnotreadhiseyes。"CouldI,"hecontinuedafterapausetoregainhisself—possession,"howcouldIhavedivinedthatflowerfromaprettysheetofperfumedpaper,thattrueheart,thatyounggirl,thatwomaninwhomlovewearstheliveryofflattery,wholovesusforourselves,whooffersusfelicity?Itneededbutanangelorademontoperceiveher;andwhatamIbuttheambitiousheadofaCourtofClaims!Ah,myfriend,famemakesusthetargetofathousandarrows。
Oneofusoweshisrichmarriagetoanhydraulicpieceofpoetry,whileI,moreseductive,moreawoman’smanthanhe,havemissedmine,——for,doyouloveher,poorgirl?"hesaid,lookingupatLaBriere。
"Oh!"ejaculatedtheyoungman。
"Wellthen,"saidthepoet,takinghissecretary’sarmandleaningheavilyuponit,"behappy,Ernest。ByamereaccidentIhavebeennotungratefultoyou。Youarerichlyrewardedforyourdevotion,andI
willgenerouslyfurtheryourhappiness。"
Canaliswasfurious;buthecouldnotbehaveotherwisethanwithpropriety,andhemadethebestofhisdisappointmentbymountingitasapedestal。
"Ah,Canalis,Ihaveneverreallyknownyoutillthismoment。"
"Didyouexpectto?Ittakessometimetogoroundtheworld,"repliedthepoetwithhispompousirony。
"Butthink,"saidLaBriere,"ofthisenormousfortune。"
"Ah,myfriend,isitnotwellinvestedinyou?"criedCanalis,accompanyingthewordswithacharminggesture。
"Melchior,"saidLaBriere,"Iamyoursforlifeanddeath。"
Hewrungthepoet’shandandlefthimabruptly,forhewasinhastetomeetMonsieurMignon。
CHAPTERXV
AFATHERSTEPSIN
TheComtedeLaBastiewasatthismomentoverwhelmedwiththesorrowswhichlayinwaitforhimastheirprey。Hehadlearnedfromhisdaughter’sletterofBettina’sdeathandofhiswife’sinfirmity,andDumayrelatedtohim,whentheymet,histerribleperplexityastoModeste’sloveaffairs。
"Leavemetomyself,"hesaidtohisfaithfulfriend。
Asthelieutenantclosedthedoor,theunhappyfatherthrewhimselfonasofa,withhisheadinhishands,weepingthoseslow,scantytearswhichsuffusetheeyesofamanofsixty,butdonotfall,——tearssoondried,yetquicktostartagain,——thelastdewsofthehumanautumn。
"Tohavechildren,tohaveawife,toadorethem——whatisitbuttohavemanyheartsandbarethemtoadagger?"hecried,springingupwiththeboundofatigerandwalkingupanddowntheroom。"Tobeafatheristogiveone’sselfover,boundhandandfoottosorrow。IfI
meetthatD’EstournyIwillkillhim。Tohavedaughters!——onegivesherlifetoascoundrel,theother,myModeste,fallsavictimtowhom?acoward,whodeceivesherwiththegildedpaperofapoet。IfitwereCanalishimselfitmightnotbesobad;butthatScapinofalover!——Iwillstranglehimwithmytwohands,"hecried,makinganinvoluntarygestureoffuriousdetermination。"Andwhatthen?supposemyModesteweretodieofgrief?"
HegazedmechanicallyoutofthewindowsofthehoteldesPrinces,andthenreturnedtothesofa,wherehesatmotionless。ThefatiguesofsixvoyagestoIndia,theanxietiesofspeculation,thedangershehadencounteredandevaded,andhismanygriefs,hadsilveredCharlesMignon’shead。Hishandsomesoldierlyface,sopureinoutlineandnowbronzedbythesunsofChinaandthesouthernseas,hadacquiredanairofdignitywhichhispresentgriefrenderedalmostsublime。
"Mongenodtoldmehefeltconfidenceintheyoungmanwhoiscomingtoaskmeformydaughter,"hethoughtatlast;andatthismomentErnestdeLaBrierewasannouncedbyoneoftheservantswhomMonsieurdeLaBastiehadattachedtohimselfduringthelastfouryears。
第9章