One night, some two months after his arrival at Paris, he accompanied three of his new acquaintances to the Jardin Mabille, at that time a well-known rendezvous4 of the jeunesse doree and of the demi-mondaines of every class.
FREDERICK AT THE JARDIN MABILLE.
He was standing5 near the orchestra, leaning against one of the artificial palm trees loaded with fantastically colored glass fruits, each of which contained a tiny gas jet, and was watching the gay throng6 of dancers as they bounded through the intricate figures of a disheveled can-can, when suddenly a woman, who was conspicuous8 by the enormous amount of satin, lace, and flowers which she had managed to accumulate about the lower part of her person, and by the extraordinary scantiness9 of her corsage, stopped in front of him, and with the tip of her satin-slippered foot delicately knocked his hat from off his head to the ground. This being by no means an unusual feat10 among the female habitues of Mabille, the incident did not attract much attention and no one noticed the start of surprise and consternation11 with which Frederick recognized in the painted creature with dyed hair his wife Rose—Countess of Waldberg.
As his hat fell to the ground, the mocking smile on Rose's face disappeared. Her features assumed a hard, stony12 expression; there was a dangerous glitter in her eyes, and she gave one or two convulsive little shivers, as if striving to control her feelings. Then, rapidly bending toward him, she murmured:
“Come with me, quickly. I must speak to you at once.”
Frederick, realizing that the recognition had been mutual13 [Pg 79] and afraid that if he made any attempt to resist she would create a disturbance14 and reveal his identity to all the bystanders, followed her without a word. They soon reached a part of the gardens which was comparatively deserted15, and Rose led the way to a small arbor16. Throwing herself down on one of the wooden benches, she crossed her arms, and, looking insolently17 into her husband's face, exclaimed, in a hard, rasping voice:
“Concealment is useless with me. I would have recognized you fifty years hence. If love is blind, hatred18 is not. I have a little account to square with you, mon cher, and you had better hear me out. I am not surprised at your look of alarm when you realized who it was that had kicked at your hat. It is unpleasant to be recognized when one has so very much to keep dark.”
“What do you mean? I do not understand you.”
“Oh, yes, you do. The newspapers have hinted at your doings in India, and a man who had made your acquaintance out there caught sight of one of your portraits in my rooms about a fortnight ago. From him—I forget his name, but he was an English captain—I heard the whole story of your connection with the murder of——”
“Hush, for Heavens sake! not so loud!” interrupted Frederick, terror-stricken. “You don't know what you are saying! If any one were to hear you!”
“What do I care if the whole world hears?” retorted Rose. “You didn't take the trouble of thinking about the world's opinion when you thrust your wife out into the street in the middle of the night and suffered her to be locked up at St. Lazarre as a common street-walker. Every dog has its day, Monsieur le Comte, and I mean to show you that I can be as cruel and relentless19 as you are yourself.”
“You surely will not betray me, Rose. You loved me once. I am a rich man now, and can do much for you, if [Pg 80] you will only be reasonable,” exclaimed Frederick, imploringly20.
He saw that his safety depended on Rose's silence and determined21 to do everything that he could to propitiate22 her and to gain time. She looked up with something like relenting in her hard blue eyes. The mention of his wealth had evidently created some impression on her mercenary nature.
“Why, why,” laughed she, “misfortunes seem to have rendered you more reasonable, and to have softened23 your temper somewhat. It's more than they have done for me. I don't think that I ever had what you can call un c?ur sensible (a soft heart), but now I have none left at all. Give me money, jewels, an easy life, and I am easy enough to manage! A fig7 for sentiment! It's all bosh!”
Frederick, shuddering24 at the vulgarity displayed by the woman who was still legally his wife, and fearing that his friends, missing him, might hunt him up and insist on being introduced to his companion, touched her lightly on the shoulder, saying:
“Come, Rose, let me take you home. It is impossible to talk quietly here, and I have much to say to you. This is no place for you.”
The woman shook his hand off, with a sneer25.
“How very particular you have become! This place is decidedly more pleasant than the “violon” (cell at police station) or St. Lazarre. It is true that the society which one meets at the Jardin Mabille is slightly mixed, but by far not so much as in the two places I have just mentioned. Come home with me, if you like. It will show you what you have made of me—of me, the Countess von Waldberg. I wonder if your conscience ever troubles you. You have a good deal to answer for, my dear Frederick!”
Frederick having dispatched a waiter to fetch her wraps from the cloak-room, for she had been sitting all this time [Pg 81] with bared shoulders, offered her his arm and led her away. As they were stepping forth26 into the street, the young man felt a slight tap on his shoulder, and, turning quickly around, found himself face to face with one of his American friends, who laughingly exclaimed:
“I see you have met your fate, my dear Wolff; I congratulate you. Don't forget that we have those two men to lunch at the hotel to-morrow.”
And with a parting “au revoir, baron,” he jumped into a fiacre, and in a loud, cheery tone of voice, bade the coachman drive home to the Hotel Kensington. A couple of minutes later, Frederick, who was greatly put out at thus having his alias and his residence made known to Rose, hailed a passing cab, and a quarter of an hour afterward27 arrived at her apartments in the Rue de Constantinople. They consisted of four rooms, the tawdry ornaments28, greasy29 furniture, vulgar attempts at display and false elegance30 of which denoted that their tenant31 had sunk to the level of a third-rate cocotte.
Before Frederick left Rose that night he succeeded in exacting32 a promise from her that as long as he maintained her in luxury and gave her all the money she wanted, she would make no attempt to reveal his identity or to injure him in any way. He handed her a couple of thousand-franc bank-notes on his departure, and, promising33 to call on the following afternoon, strolled back to his hotel.
“She knows too much! She is dangerous! This will never do!” he muttered to himself, as he walked along under the arcades34 of the Rue de Rivoli.
He knew full well that as he was able to provide her with money, he would not have much to fear from her. She was far too careful of her own interests to kill the goose that laid the golden eggs by forcing him to take to flight. But, unfortunately, he was ever of a spendthrift disposition35. His tastes, pleasures, and mode of life were extravagant36; [Pg 82] gold escaped like water through his fingers, and he realized that as soon as the last penny of the money which he had abstracted from the murdered widow's apartments at Baroda had been spent he would find himself powerless to silence Rose, whose revelations would inevitably37 result in a demand for his extradition38 on the part of the Anglo-Indian Government.
Several days went by. He had installed Rose in a very handsomely furnished apartment on the Avenue de l'Imperatrice, and had presented her with a carriage and pair, besides providing her with jewels and handsome dresses. It became noised abroad among the demi-monde that she had become the mistress of a wealthy Austrian named Baron Wolff, and both Frederick and Rose were careful to avoid any allusion39 to the real relationship which existed between them.
Rose found that by means of a few judicious40 taunts41 and threats she was able to get anything she wanted out of him. Of love between this curiously42 assorted43 couple there was none, and with each additional demand for money on her part the hatred and loathing44 with which he regarded her increased.
One evening, about a month after his meeting with Rose at the Jardin Mabille, Frederick entered her drawing-room half an hour before dinner, carrying in his hand a large bouquet45 of gardenias46 and white lilac. It was her birthday, and after having duly congratulated her he handed her a blue velvet47 box, which she opened with a cry of delight. It contained a bracelet48 composed of superb sapphires49 which a few months previously50 had figured on the wrist of the murdered widow at Baroda. Kissing her hand with old-fashioned courtesy, Frederick clasped the jewel round Rose's shapely arm, and then led her before one of the huge mirrors which gleamed here and there between the plush hangings of the luxuriously51 appointed room. They were indeed a [Pg 83] handsome couple as they stood there gazing at their reflections in the glass. Rose was now dressed in perfect taste, and her pale-blue satin dinner dress set off her beauty to perfection. Suddenly she looked up at him with a mocking smile, and exclaimed, with a sneer:
“What a charming pair we are to be sure! No wonder we love each other so tenderly.”
They remained a long time at table that night, sipping52 their wine, and for a wonder chatting peacefully and pleasantly. Suddenly Rose jumped up and exclaimed:
“By the by, Frederick, I must show you a letter which I received to-day. There is a kind of East Indian nabob who is staying here at the Grand Hotel. He has seen me at the opera, and writes to make me the most dazzling proposals,” added she, cynically53.
It was one of Rose's chief delights to show her husband what she had now become; and without giving him time to say a word she ran lightly out of the room in quest of the letter.
Hardly had she disappeared behind the portiere which hung before the door than Frederick, who had suddenly grown very pale, took from his waistcoat-pocket a small cut-glass bottle filled with a colorless and transparent54 fluid. Bending over the table, he dropped part of its contents in the half-finished glass of green chartreuse which stood in front of Rose's plate. With an almost supernatural coolness he shook the mixture, so as to amalgamate55 it properly, and then sank back into his chair and lit a cigar, as if to give himself what the French call a “countenance.”
At this moment Rose reappeared, holding in her hand an open letter.
“Let me read this to you. It will show you that if you don't behave I can do without you, sir,” she said.
“Nonsense, Rose! What pleasure can it afford you to be always teasing me? You are not half so bad as you try to [Pg 84] make yourself out to be. Here, let me drink your health again. That will be much more to the purpose!”
Rose laughed a harsh, unlovely laugh, and seizing hold of her glass clinked it against her husband's and tossed the liquor down her throat with a “cranerie” which showed that she was not afraid of a stiff drink!
“What a peculiar56 taste this chartreuse has,” she said, as she threw herself back in her chair.
Frederick laughed rather uneasily.
“You swallowed it too quickly. It is a pity, for it is good stuff, and I prefer taking mine more quietly,” continued he, raising his own glass to his lips.
“I feel awfully57 jolly to-night,” exclaimed Rose, jumping up from her chair again and beginning to restlessly pace the floor. “We ought to go out. Why don't you take me to some theater? Oh! it's too late for that! Let us go to my boudoir and have some music; it will remind us of past times.”
She left the room, beckoning58 him to follow. He did so, but as soon as she rose from the table he quietly pocketed the glass from which she had been drinking. He found Rose in the act of opening all the windows in her boudoir. She was unusually flushed, and he noticed that the pupils of her bright blue eyes were greatly contracted. This gave her so strange and wild a look that he started back as she turned toward him.
“How oppressively hot it is to-night, Frederick!” said she, in a muffled59 voice, and breathing heavily.
“Why, no; it is not warmer than usual. You must have been drinking too much, Rose. Compose yourself. Come here and lie down on the sofa, while I play you some of your favorite melodies.”
Saying this, he sat down at the piano and began to play at random60, watching her intently all the time as she flitted about the room. At the end of a few minutes she flung [Pg 85] herself down on a lounge and closed her eyes. She breathed more heavily than before, and from time to time passed her hand across her forehead, which was bathed in cold perspiration61.
All at once she opened her eyes again. They were now dilated62 as if by pain.
“Frederick,” she cried, in a low, oppressed kind of tone, “please come here. I am not feeling well. I wish you would give me a glass of water.”
He walked to a side table and brought her a large glass filled to the brim with iced water, which she drank eagerly.
“I am so sleepy,” murmured she, lying down again on the cushions.
Frederick sat down near her on the edge of the lounge, and watched her curiously. Her face had assumed a cadaverous aspect, and now and again she shuddered63 from head to foot. She appeared to be suffocating64, and there was a bluish tint65 round her drawn66 mouth and sunken eyes. Frederick did not move. His face was nearly as white as that of his victim. But he made no attempt to help or to assist her. He cruelly, and in cold blood this time, allowed the poison to take definite hold of her system, and his pitiless eyes remained fastened on her distorted face without once relenting.
Gradually her breathing became less and less audible, and a few moments later it had entirely67 ceased. Placing his hand to her bosom68 he convinced himself that the beating of the heart had stopped forever.
Then arising from the couch he calmly removed his picture from its place on the table, and then, loudly ringing the bell, he summoned the servants.
The violence of the peal69 brought two or three of them to the door. They found Baron Wolff apparently70 in a state of extreme excitement, trying with all his might to revive their mistress as she lay unconscious on the sofa.
[Pg 86]
“Quick! For Heaven's sake! Run for a doctor! Madam is very ill. She is in a fit!” exclaimed he, wringing71 his hands.
点击收听单词发音
1 alias | |
n.化名;别名;adv.又名 | |
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2 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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3 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
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4 rendezvous | |
n.约会,约会地点,汇合点;vi.汇合,集合;vt.使汇合,使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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5 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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6 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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7 fig | |
n.无花果(树) | |
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8 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
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9 scantiness | |
n.缺乏 | |
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10 feat | |
n.功绩;武艺,技艺;adj.灵巧的,漂亮的,合适的 | |
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11 consternation | |
n.大为吃惊,惊骇 | |
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12 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
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13 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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14 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
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15 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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16 arbor | |
n.凉亭;树木 | |
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17 insolently | |
adv.自豪地,自傲地 | |
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18 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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19 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
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20 imploringly | |
adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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21 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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22 propitiate | |
v.慰解,劝解 | |
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23 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
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24 shuddering | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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25 sneer | |
v.轻蔑;嘲笑;n.嘲笑,讥讽的言语 | |
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26 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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27 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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28 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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29 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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30 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
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31 tenant | |
n.承租人;房客;佃户;v.租借,租用 | |
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32 exacting | |
adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
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33 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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34 arcades | |
n.商场( arcade的名词复数 );拱形走道(两旁有商店或娱乐设施);连拱廊;拱形建筑物 | |
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35 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
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36 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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37 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
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38 extradition | |
n.引渡(逃犯) | |
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39 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
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40 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
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41 taunts | |
嘲弄的言语,嘲笑,奚落( taunt的名词复数 ) | |
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42 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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43 assorted | |
adj.各种各样的,各色俱备的 | |
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44 loathing | |
n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
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45 bouquet | |
n.花束,酒香 | |
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46 gardenias | |
n.栀子属植物,栀子花( gardenia的名词复数 ) | |
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47 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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48 bracelet | |
n.手镯,臂镯 | |
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49 sapphires | |
n.蓝宝石,钢玉宝石( sapphire的名词复数 );蔚蓝色 | |
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50 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
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51 luxuriously | |
adv.奢侈地,豪华地 | |
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52 sipping | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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53 cynically | |
adv.爱嘲笑地,冷笑地 | |
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54 transparent | |
adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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55 amalgamate | |
v.(指业务等)合并,混合 | |
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56 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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57 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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58 beckoning | |
adj.引诱人的,令人心动的v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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59 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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60 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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61 perspiration | |
n.汗水;出汗 | |
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62 dilated | |
adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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64 suffocating | |
a.使人窒息的 | |
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65 tint | |
n.淡色,浅色;染发剂;vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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66 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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67 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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68 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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69 peal | |
n.钟声;v.鸣响 | |
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70 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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71 wringing | |
淋湿的,湿透的 | |
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