modeste mignon-第38部分

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begged　Madame　Latournelle　to　go　and　stay　at　the　Chalet　during　his

absence。



〃You　will　find　the　colonel　in　Paris；〃　said　the　notary。　〃In　the

shipping　news　quoted　this　morning　in　the　Journal　of　Commerce；　I　found

under　the　head　of　Marseilleshere；　see　for　yourself；〃　he　said；

offering　the　paper。　〃'The　Bettina　Mignon；　Captain　Mignon；　arrived

October　6'；　it　is　now　the　17th；　and　the　colonel　is　sure　to　be　in

Paris。〃



Dumay　requested　Gobenheim　to　do　without　him　in　future；　and　then　went

back　to　the　Chalet；　which　he　reached　just　as　Modeste　was　sealing　her

two　letters；　to　her　father　and　Canalis。　Except　for　the　address　the

letters　were　precisely　alike　both　in　weight　and　appearance。　Modeste

thought　she　had　laid　that　to　her　father　over　that　to　her　Melchior；　but

had；　in　fact；　done　exactly　the　reverse。　This　mistake；　so　often　made　in

the　little　things　of　life；　occasioned　the　discovery　of　her　secret　by

Dumay　and　her　mother。　The　former　was　talking　vehemently　to　Madame

Mignon　in　the　salon；　and　revealing　to　her　his　fresh　fears　caused　by

Modeste's　duplicity　and　Butscha's　connivance。



〃Madame；〃　he　cried；　〃he　is　a　serpent　whom　we　have　warmed　in　our

bosoms；　there's　no　place　in　his　contorted　little　body　for　a　soul！〃



Modeste　put　the　letter　for　her　father　into　the　pocket　of　her　apron；

supposing　it　to　be　that　for　Canalis；　and　came　downstairs　with　the

letter　for　her　lover　in　her　hand；　to　see　Dumay　before　he　started　for

Paris。



〃What　has　happened　to　my　Black　Dwarf？　why　are　you　talking　so　loud！〃

she　said；　appearing　at　the　door。



〃Mademoiselle；　Butscha　has　gone　to　Paris；　and　you；　no　doubt；　know　why；

to　carry　on　that　affair　of　the　little　architect　with　the　sulphur

waistcoat；　who；　unluckily　for　the　hunchback's　lies；　has　never　been

here。〃



Modeste　was　struck　dumb；　feeling　sure　that　the　dwarf　had　departed　on　a

mission　of　inquiry　as　to　her　poet's　morals；　she　turned　pale；　and　sat

down。



〃I'm　going　after　him；　I　shall　find　him；〃　continued　Dumay。　〃Is　that　the

letter　for　your　father；　mademoiselle？〃　he　added；　holding　out　his　hand。

〃I　will　take　it　to　the　Mongenods。　God　grant　the　colonel　and　I　may　not

pass　each　other　on　the　road。〃



Modeste　gave　him　the　letter。　Dumay　looked　mechanically　at　the　address。



〃'Monsieur　le　Baron　de　Canalis；　rue　de　Paradis…Poissoniere；　No。　29'！〃

he　cried　out；　〃what　does　that　mean？〃



〃Ah；　my　daughter！　that　is　the　man　you　love；〃　exclaimed　Madame　Mignon；

〃the　stanzas　you　set　to　music　were　his〃



〃And　that's　his　portrait　that　you　have　in　a　frame　upstairs；〃　added

Dumay。



〃Give　me　back　that　letter；　Monsieur　Dumay；〃　said　Modeste；　erecting

herself　like　a　lioness　defending　her　cubs。



〃There　it　is；　mademoiselle；〃　he　replied。



Modeste　put　it　into　the　bosom　of　her　dress；　and　gave　Dumay　the　one

intended　for　her　father。



〃I　know　what　you　are　capable　of；　Dumay；〃　she　said；　〃and　if　you　take

one　step　against　Monsieur　de　Canalis；　I　shall　take　another　out　of　this

house；　to　which　I　will　never　return。〃



〃You　will　kill　your　mother；　mademoiselle；〃　replied　Dumay；　who　left　the

room　and　called　his　wife。



The　poor　mother　was　indeed　half…fainting；struck　to　the　heart　by

Modeste's　words。



〃Good…bye；　wife；〃　said　the　Breton；　kissing　the　American。　〃Take　care　of

the　mother；　I　go　to　save　the　daughter。〃



He　made　his　preparations　for　the　journey　in　a　few　minutes；　and　started

for　Havre。　An　hour　later　he　was　travelling　post　to　Paris；　with　the

haste　that　nothing　but　passion　or　speculation　can　get　out　of　wheels。



Recovering　herself　under　Modeste's　tender　care；　Madame　Mignon　went　up

to　her　bedroom　leaning　on　the　arm　of　her　daughter；　to　whom　she　said；

as　her　sole　reproach；　when　they　were　alone：



〃My　unfortunate　child；　see　what　you　have　done！　Why　did　you　conceal

anything　from　me？　Am　I　so　harsh？〃



〃Oh！　I　was　just　going　to　tell　it　to　you　comfortably；〃　sobbed　Modeste。



She　thereupon　related　everything　to　her　mother；　read　her　the　letters

and　their　answers；　and　shed　the　rose　of　her　poem　petal　by　petal　into

the　heart　of　the　kind　German　woman。　When　this　confidence；　which　took

half　the　day；　was　over；　when　she　saw　something　that　was　almost　a　smile

on　the　lips　of　the　too　indulgent　mother；　Modeste　fell　upon　her　breast

in　tears。



〃Oh；　mother！〃　she　said　amid　her　sobs；　〃you；　whose　heart；　all　gold　and

poetry；　is　a　chosen　vessel；　chosen　of　God　to　hold　a　sacred　love；　a

single　and　celestial　love　that　endures　for　life；　you；　whom　I　wish　to

imitate　by　loving　no　one　but　my　husband；you　will　surely　understand

what　bitter　tears　I　am　now　shedding。　This　butterfly；　this　Psyche　of　my

thoughts；　this　dual　soul　which　I　have　nurtured　with　maternal　care；　my

love；　my　sacred　love；　this　living　mystery　of　mysteriesit　is　about　to

fall　into　vulgar　hands；　and　they　will　tear　its　diaphanous　wings　and

rend　its　veil　under　the　miserable　pretext　of　enlightening　me；　of

discovering　whether　genius　is　as　prudent　as　a　banker；　whether　my

Melchior　has　saved　his　money；　or　whether　he　has　some　entanglement　to

shake　off；　they　want　to　find　out　if　he　is　guilty　to　bourgeois　eyes　of

youthful　indiscretions；which　to　the　sun　of　our　love　are　like　the

clouds　of　the　dawn。　Oh！　what　will　come　of　it？　what　will　they　do？　See！

feel　my　hand；　it　burns　with　fever。　Ah！　I　shall　never　survive　it。〃



And　Modeste；　really　taken　with　a　chill；　was　forced　to　go　to　bed；

causing　serious　uneasiness　to　her　mother；　Madame　Latournelle；　and

Madame　Dumay；　who　took　good　care　of　her　during　the　journey　of　the

lieutenant　to　Paris；to　which　city　the　logic　of　events　compels　us　to

transport　our　drama　for　a　moment。



Truly　modest　minds；　like　that　of　Ernest　de　La　Briere；　but　especially

those　who；　knowing　their　own　value；　also　know　that　they　are　neither

loved　nor　appreciated；　can　understand　the　infinite　joy　to　which　the

young　secretary　abandoned　himself　on　reading　Modeste's　letter。　Could

it　be　that　after　thinking　him　lofty　and　witty　in　soul；　his　young；　his

artless；　his　tricksome　mistress　now　thought　him　handsome？　This

flattery　is　the　flattery　supreme。　And　why？　Beauty　is；　undoubtedly；　the

signature　of　the　master　to　the　work　into　which　he　has　put　his　soul；　it

is　the　divine　spirit　manifested。　And　to　see　it　where　it　is　not；　to

create　it　by　the　power　of　an　inward　look；is　not　that　the　highest

reach　of　love？　And　so　the　poor　youth　cried　aloud　with　all　the　rapture

of　an　applauded　author；　〃At　last　I　am　beloved！〃　When　a　woman；　be　she

maid；　wife；　or　widow；　lets　the　charming　words　escape　her；　〃Thou　art

handsome；〃　the　words　may　be　false；　but　the　man　opens　his　thick　skull

to　their　subtle　poison；　and　thenceforth　he　is　attached　by　an

everlasting　tie　to　the　pretty　flatterer；　the　true　or　the　deceived

judge；　she　becomes　his　particular　world；　he　thirsts　for　her　continual

testimony；　and　he　never　wearies　of　it；　even　if　he　is　a　crowned　prince。

Ernest　walked　proudly　up　and　down　his　room；　he　struck　a　three…quarter；

full…face；　and　profile　attitude　before　the　glass；　he　tried　to

criticise　himself；　but　a　voice；　diabol