Scarcely had he taken a few steps in the street, when he saw his faithful friend Jean running towards him with a joyful1 face.
“What has happened?” he asked; “have you news to tell me?”
“Yes,” replied Jean; “I have to tell you that the seals have been officially broken and that you can enter your home. All your father’s debts being paid, you remain the owner of the house. It is true that all the money and all the jewels have been taken away; but at least the house belongs to you, and you have not lost everything. I have been running about for an hour, not knowing what had become of you, and I hope, my dear master, that you will now be wise enough to take a reasonable course.”
“What course do you wish me to take?”
“Sell this house, sir, it is all your fortune. It will bring you about thirty thousand francs. With that at any rate you will not die of hunger; and what is to prevent you from buying a little stock in trade, and starting business for yourself? You would surely prosper2.”
“We shall see about this,” answered Croisilles, as he hurried to the street where his home was. He was eager to see the paternal3 roof again. But when he arrived there so sad a spectacle met his gaze, that he had scarcely the courage to enter. The shop was in utter disorder4, the rooms deserted5, his father’s alcove6 empty. Everything presented to his eyes the wretchedness of utter ruin. Not a chair remained; all the drawers had been ransacked7, the till broken open, the chest taken away; nothing had escaped the greedy search of creditors8 and lawyers; who, after having pillaged9 the house, had gone, leaving the doors open, as though to testify to all passers-by how neatly10 their work was done.
“This, then,” exclaimed Croisilles, “is all that remains11 after thirty years of work and a respectable life,—and all through the failure to have ready, on a given day, money enough to honor a signature imprudently given!”
While the young man walked up and down given over to the saddest thoughts, Jean seemed very much embarrassed. He supposed that his master was without ready money, and that he might perhaps not even have dined. He was therefore trying to think of some way to question him on the subject, and to offer him, in case of need, some part of his savings12. After having tortured his mind for a quarter of an hour to try and hit upon some way of leading up to the subject, he could find nothing better than to come up to Croisilles, and ask him, in a kindly13 voice:
“Sir, do you still like roast partridges?”
The poor man uttered this question in a tone at once so comical and so touching14, that Croisilles, in spite of his sadness, could not refrain from laughing.
“And why do you ask me that?” said he.
“My wife,” replied Jean, “is cooking me some for dinner, sir, and if by chance you still liked them—”
Croisilles had completely forgotten till now the money which he was bringing back to his father. Jean’s proposal reminded him that his pockets were full of gold.
“I thank you with all my heart,” said he to the old man, “and I accept your dinner with pleasure; but, if you are anxious about my fortune, be reassured15. I have more money than I need to have a good supper this evening, which you, in your turn, will share with me.”
Saying this, he laid upon the mantel four well-filled purses, which he emptied, each containing fifty louis.
“Although this sum does not belong to me,” he added, “I can use it for a day or two. To whom must I go to have it forwarded to my father?”
“Sir,” replied Jean, eagerly, “your father especially charged me to tell you that this money belongs to you, and, if I did not speak of it before, it was because I did not know how your affairs in Paris had turned out. Where he has gone your father will want for nothing; he will lodge16 with one of your correspondents, who will receive him most gladly; he has moreover taken with him enough for his immediate17 needs, for he was quite sure of still leaving behind more than was necessary to pay all his just debts. All that he has left, sir, is yours; he says so himself in his letter, and I am especially charged to repeat it to you. That gold is, therefore, legitimately18 your property, as this house in which we are now. I can repeat to you the very words your father said to me on embarking19: ‘May my son forgive me for leaving him; may he remember that I am still in the world only to love me, and let him use what remains after my debts are paid as though it were his inheritance.’ Those, sir, are his own expressions; so put this back in your pocket, and, since you accept my dinner, pray let us go home.”
The honest joy which shone in Jean’s eyes, left no doubt in the mind of Croisilles. The words of his father had moved him to such a point that he could not restrain his tears; on the other hand, at such a moment, four thousand francs were no bagatelle20. As to the house, it was not an available resource, for one could realize on it only by selling it, and that was both difficult and slow. All this, however, could not but make a considerable change in the situation the young man found himself in; so he felt suddenly moved—shaken in his dismal21 resolution, and, so to speak, both sad and, at the same time, relieved of much of his distress22. After having closed the shutters23 of the shop, he left the house with Jean, and as he once more crossed the town, could not help thinking how small a thing our affections are, since they sometimes serve to make us find an unforeseen joy in the faintest ray of hope. It was with this thought that he sat down to dinner beside his old servant, who did not fail, during the repast, to make every effort to cheer him.
Heedless people have a happy fault. They are easily cast down, but they have not even the trouble to console themselves, so changeable is their mind. It would be a mistake to think them, on that account, insensible or selfish; on the contrary they perhaps feel more keenly than others and are but too prone24 to blow their brains out in a moment of despair; but, this moment once passed, if they are still alive, they must dine, they must eat, they must drink, as usual; only to melt into tears again at bed-time. Joy and pain do not glide25 over them but pierce them through like arrows. Kind, hot-headed natures which know how to suffer, but not how to lie, through which one can clearly read,—not fragile and empty like glass, but solid and transparent26 like rock crystal.
After having clinked glasses with Jean, Croisilles, instead of drowning himself, went to the play. Standing27 at the back of the pit, he drew from his bosom28 Mademoiselle Godeau’s bouquet29, and, as he breathed the perfume in deep meditation30, he began to think in a calmer spirit about his adventure of the morning. As soon as he had pondered over it for awhile, he saw clearly the truth; that is to say, that the young lady, in leaving the bouquet in his hands, and in refusing to take it back, had wished to give him a mark of interest; for otherwise this refusal and this silence could only have been marks of contempt, and such a supposition was not possible. Croisilles, therefore, judged that Mademoiselle Godeau’s heart was of a softer grain than her father’s and he remembered distinctly that the young lady’s face, when she crossed the drawing-room, had expressed an emotion the more true that it seemed involuntary. But was this emotion one of love, or only of sympathy? Or was it perhaps something of still less importance,—mere commonplace pity? Had Mademoiselle Godeau feared to see him die—him, Croisilles—or merely to be the cause of the death of a man, no matter what man? Although withered31 and almost leafless, the bouquet still retained so exquisite32 an odor and so brave a look, that in breathing it and looking at it, Croisilles could not help hoping. It was a thin garland of roses round a bunch of violets. What mysterious depths of sentiment an Oriental might have read in these flowers, by interpreting their language! But after all, he need not be an Oriental in this case. The flowers which fall from the breast of a pretty woman, in Europe, as in the East, are never mute; were they but to tell what they have seen while reposing33 in that lovely bosom, it would be enough for a lover, and this, in fact, they do. Perfumes have more than one resemblance to love, and there are even people who think love to be but a sort of perfume; it is true the flowers which exhale34 it are the most beautiful in creation.
While Croisilles mused35 thus, paying very little attention to the tragedy that was being acted at the time, Mademoiselle Godeau herself appeared in a box opposite.
The idea did not occur to the young man that, if she should notice him, she might think it very strange to find the would-be suicide there after what had transpired36 in the morning. He, on the contrary, bent37 all his efforts towards getting nearer to her; but he could not succeed. A fifth-rate actress from Paris had come to play Mérope, and the crowd was so dense38 that one could not move. For lack of anything better, Croisilles had to content himself with fixing his gaze upon his lady-love, not lifting his eyes from her for a moment. He noticed that she seemed pre-occupied and moody39, and that she spoke40 to every one with a sort of repugnance41. Her box was surrounded, as may be imagined, by all the fops of the neighborhood, each of whom passed several times before her in the gallery, totally unable to enter the box, of which her father filled more than three-fourths. Croisilles noticed further that she was not using her opera-glasses, nor was she listening to the play. Her elbows resting on the balustrade, her chin in her hand, with her far-away look, she seemed, in all her sumptuous42 apparel, like some statue of Venus disguised en marquise. The display of her dress and her hair, her rouge43, beneath which one could guess her paleness, all the splendor44 of her toilet, did but the more distinctly bring out the immobility of her countenance45. Never had Croisilles seen her so beautiful. Having found means, between the acts, to escape from the crush, he hurried off to look at her from the passage leading to her box, and, strange to say, scarcely had he reached it, when Mademoiselle Godeau, who had not stirred for the last hour, turned round. She started slightly as she noticed him and only cast a glance at him; then she resumed her former attitude. Whether that glance expressed surprise, anxiety, pleasure or love; whether it meant “What, not dead!” or “God be praised! There you are, living!”—I do not pretend to explain. Be that as it may; at that glance, Croisilles inwardly swore to himself to die or gain her love.
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1
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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2
prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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pillaged
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| v.抢劫，掠夺( pillage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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14
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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15
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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16
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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18
legitimately
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| ad.合法地；正当地，合理地 | |
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embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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bagatelle
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| n.琐事；小曲儿 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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30
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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31
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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32
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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33
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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34
exhale
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| v.呼气，散出，吐出，蒸发 | |
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35
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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36
transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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37
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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38
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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39
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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40
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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41
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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42
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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43
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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44
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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45
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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