首页 >出版文学> The Two Brothers>第17章

第17章

  Hetookhisleadedcane,andmoistenedacigar。
  “Ican’tacceptyourinvitation;Iamtotakeourmothertodineatatabled’hote。“
  “Ah!howisshe,thepoor,dearwoman?“
  “Sheisprettywell,“answeredthepainter,“Ihavejustrepaintedourfather’sportrait,andauntDescoings’s。Ihavealsopaintedmyown,andIshouldliketogiveourmotheryours,intheuniformofthedragoonsoftheImperialGuard。“
  “Verygood。“
  “Youwillhavetocomeandsit。“
  “I’mobligedtobeinthishen-coopfromnineo’clocktillfive。“
  “TwoSundayswillbeenough。“
  “Sobeit,littleman,“saidNapoleon’sstaffofficer,lightinghiscigarattheporter’slamp。
  WhenJosephrelatedPhilippe’spositiontohismother,ontheirwaytodinnerintheruedeBeaune,hefeltherarmtrembleinhis,andjoylightedupherwornface;thepoorsoulbreathedlikeonerelievedofaheavyweight。Thenextday,inspiredbyjoyandgratitude,shepaidJosephanumberoflittleattentions;shedecoratedhisstudiowithflowers,andboughthimtwostandsofplants。OnthefirstSundaywhenPhilippewastosit,Agathearrangedacharmingbreakfastinthestudio。Shelaiditalloutonthetable;notforgettingaflaskofbrandy,which,however,wasonlyhalffull。Sheherselfstayedbehindascreen,inwhichshemadealittlehole。Theex-dragoonsenthisuniformthenightbefore,andshehadnotrefrainedfromkissingit。
  WhenPhilippewasplaced,infulldress,ononeofthosestrawhorses,allsaddled,whichJosephhadhiredfortheoccasion,Agathe,fearingtobetrayherpresence,mingledthesoftsoundofhertearswiththeconversationofthetwobrothers。Philippeposedfortwohoursbeforeandtwohoursafterbreakfast。Atthreeo’clockintheafternoon,heputonhisordinaryclothesand,ashelightedacigar,heproposedtohisbrothertogoanddinetogetherinthePalais-Royal,jinglinggoldinhispocketashespoke。
  “No,“saidJoseph,“itfrightensmetoseegoldaboutyou。“
  “Ah!you’llalwayshaveabadopinionofmeinthishouse,“criedthecolonelinathunderingvoice。“Can’tIsavemymoney,too?“
  “Yes,yes!“criedAgathe,comingoutofherhiding-place,andkissingherson。“Letusgoanddinewithhim,Joseph!“
  Josephdarednotscoldhismother。Hewentanddressedhimself;andPhilippetookthemtotheRocherdeCancale,wherehegavethemasplendiddinner,thebillforwhichamountedtoahundredfrancs。
  “Thedevil!“mutteredJosephuneasily;“withanincomeofelevenhundredfrancsyoumanage,likePonchardinthe’DameBlance,’tosaveenoughtobuyestates。“
  “Bah,I’monarunofluck,“answeredthedragoon,whohaddrunkenormously。
  Hearingthisspeechjustastheywereonthestepsofthecafe,andbeforetheygotintothecarriagetogotothetheatre,——forPhilippewastotakehismothertotheCirque-Olympiquetheonlytheatreherconfessorallowedhertovisit,——Josephpinchedhismother’sarm。Sheatoncepretendedtofeelunwell,andrefusedtogothetheatre;
  PhilippeaccordinglytookthembacktotherueMazarin,where,assoonasshewasalonewithJosephinhergarret,Agathefellintoagloomysilence。
  ThefollowingSundayPhilippecameagain。Thistimehismotherwasvisiblypresentatthesitting。Sheservedthebreakfast,andputseveralquestionstothedragoon。ShethenlearnedthatthenephewofoldMadameHochon,thefriendofhermother,playedaconsiderablepartinliterature。PhilippeandhisfriendGiroudeaulivedamongacircleofjournalists,actresses,andbooksellers,wheretheywereregardedinthelightofcashiers。Philippe,whohadbeendrinkingkirschbeforeposing,wasloquacious。Heboastedthathewasabouttobecomeagreatman。ButwhenJosephaskedaquestionastohispecuniaryresourceshewasdumb。Itsohappenedthattherewasnonewspaperonthefollowingday,itbeingafete,andtofinishthepicturePhilippeproposedtositagainonthemorrow。JosephtoldhimthattheSalonwascloseathand,andashedidnothavethemoneytobuytwoframesforthepictureshewishedtoexhibit,hewasforcedtoprocureitbyfinishingacopyofaRubenswhichhadbeenorderedbyElieMagus,thepicture-dealer。TheoriginalbelongedtoawealthySwissbanker,whohadonlylentitfortendays,andthenextdaywasthelast;thesittingmustthereforebeputofftillthefollowingSunday。
  “Isthatit?“askedPhilippe,pointingtoapicturebyRubensonaneasel。
  “Yes,“repliedJoseph;“itisworthtwentythousandfrancs。That’swhatgeniuscando。Itwilltakemeallto-morrowtogetthetonesoftheoriginalandmakethecopylooksoolditcan’tbedistinguishedfromit。“
  “Adieu,mother,“saidPhilippe,kissingAgathe。“NextSunday,then。“
  ThenextdayElieMaguswastocomeforhiscopy。Joseph’sfriend,PierreGrassou,whowasworkingforthesamedealer,wantedtoseeitwhenfinished。Toplayhimatrick,Joseph,whenheheardhisknock,putthecopy,whichwasvarnishedwithaspecialglazeofhisown,inplaceoftheoriginal,andputtheoriginalonhiseasel。PierreGrassouwascompletelytakenin;andthenamazedanddelightedatJoseph’ssuccess。
  “DoyouthinkitwilldeceiveoldMagus?“hesaidtoJoseph。
  “Weshallsee,“answeredthelatter。
  Thedealerdidnotcomeashehadpromised。Itwasgettinglate;
  AgathedinedthatdaywithMadameDesroches,whohadlatelylostherhusband,andJosephproposedtoPierreGrassoutodineathistabled’hote。Ashewentoutheleftthekeyofhisstudiowiththeconcierge。
  AnhourlaterPhilippeappearedandsaidtotheconcierge,——
  “Iamtositthisevening;Josephwillbeinsoon,andIwillwaitforhiminthestudio。“
  Thewomangavehimthekey;Philippewentupstairs,tookthecopy,thinkingitwastheoriginal,andwentdownagain;returnedthekeytotheconciergewiththeexcusethathehadforgottensomething,andhurriedofftosellhisRubensforthreethousandfrancs。HehadtakentheprecautiontoconveyamessagefromhisbrothertoElieMagus,askinghimnottocalltillthefollowingday。
  ThateveningwhenJosephreturned,bringinghismotherfromMadameDesroches’s,theconciergetoldhimofPhilippe’sfreak,——howhehadcalledintendingtowait,andgoneawayagainimmediately。
  “Iamruined——unlesshehashadthedelicacytotakethecopy,“criedthepainter,instantlysuspectingthetheft。Heranrapidlyupthethreeflightsandrushedintohisstudio。“Godbepraised!“heejaculated。“Heis,whathealwayshasbeen,avilescoundrel。“
  Agathe,whohadfollowedJoseph,didnotunderstandwhathewassaying;butwhenhersonexplainedwhathadhappened,shestoodstill,withthetearsinhereyes。
  “HaveIbutoneson?“shesaidinabrokenvoice。
  “Wehaveneveryetdegradedhimtotheeyesofstrangers,“saidJoseph;“butwemustnowwarntheconcierge。Infutureweshallhavetokeepthekeysourselves。I’llfinishhisblackguardfacefrommemory;there’snotmuchtodotoit。“
  “Leaveitasitis;itwillpainmetoomuchevertolookatit,“
  answeredthemother,heart-strickenandstupefiedatsuchwickedness。
  Philippehadbeentoldhowthemoneyforthiscopywastobeexpended;
  moreoverheknewtheabyssintowhichhewouldplungehisbrotherthroughthelossoftheRubens;butnothingrestrainedhim。AfterthislastcrimeAgathenevermentionedhim;herfaceacquiredanexpressionofcoldandconcentratedandbitterdespair;onethoughttookpossessionofhermind。
  “Someday,“shesaidtoherself,“weshallhearofaBridauinthepolicecourts。“
  Twomonthslater,asAgathewasabouttostartforheroffice,anoldofficer,whoannouncedhimselfasafriendofPhilippeonurgentbusiness,calledonMadameBridau,whohappenedtobeinJoseph’sstudio。
  WhenGiroudeaugavehisname,motherandsontrembled,andnonethelessbecausetheex-dragoonhadthefaceofatougholdsailoroftheworsttype。Hisfishygrayeyes,hispiebaldmoustache,theremainsofhisshaggyhairfringingaskullthatwasthecoloroffreshbutter,allgaveanindescribablydebauchedandlibidinousexpressiontohisappearance。Heworeanoldiron-grayovercoatdecoratedwiththeredribbonofanofficeroftheLegionofhonor,whichmetwithdifficultyoveragastronomicstomachinkeepingwithamouththatstretchedfromeartoear,andapairofpowerfulshoulders。Thetorsowassupportedbyaspindlingpairoflegs,whiletherubicundtintsonthecheek-
  bonesboretestimonytoarollickinglife。Thelowerpartofthecheeks,whichweredeeplywrinkled,overhungacoat-collarofvelvettheworseforwear。Amongotheradornments,theex-dragoonworeenormousgoldringsinhisears。
  “Whata’noceur’!“thoughtJoseph,usingapopularexpression,meaninga“loosefish,“whichhadlatelypassedintotheateliers。
  “Madame,“saidFinot’suncleandcashier,“yoursonisinsounfortunateapositionthathisfriendsfinditabsolutelynecessarytoaskyoutosharethesomewhatheavyexpensewhichheistothem。Hecannolongerdohisworkattheoffice;andMademoiselleFlorentine,ofthePorte-Saint-Martin,hastakenhimtolodgewithher,inamiserableatticintheruedeVendome。Philippeisdying;andifyouandhisbrotherarenotabletopayforthedoctorandmedicines,weshallbeobliged,forthesakeofcuringhim,tohavehimtakentothehospitaloftheCapuchins。Forthreehundredfrancswewouldkeephimwhereheis。Buthemusthaveanurse;foratnight,whenMademoiselleFlorentineisatthetheatre,hepersistsingoingout,andtakesthingsthatareirritatingandinjurioustohismaladyanditstreatment。Aswearefondofhim,thismakesusreallyveryunhappy。
  Thepoorfellowhaspledgedthepensionofhiscrossforthenextthreeyears;heistemporarilydisplacedfromhisoffice,andhehasliterallynothing。Hewillkillhimself,madame,unlesswecanputhimintotheprivateasylumofDoctorDubois。Itisadecenthospital,wheretheywilltakehimfortenfrancsaday。FlorentineandIwillpayhalf,ifyouwillpaytherest;itwon’tbeformorethantwomonths。“