She was without every thing. When M. de Brevan had gone to engage this garret-room, he had thought of nothing; or rather (and such a calculation was quite in keeping with his cold-blooded rascality) he had taken his measures so that his victim must soon be in utter destitution10. Without any other clothes than those she wore on the night of her flight, she had no linen11, no shoes, not a towel even to wipe her hands, unless she borrowed them from her friend down stairs.
Accustomed as she was to all the comforts of boundless12 wealth, and to all the refinements13 of cleanliness, these privations became to her a genuine martyrdom. Thus she spent in a variety of small purchases more than a hundred and fifty francs. The sum was enormous at a time when she could already count the days to the hour when she would be without bread. In addition to that she had to pay Mrs. Chevassat five francs a day for her board. Five francs were another enormous sum which troubled her grievously; for she would have been quite willing to live on bread and water. But in that direction she thought no economizing14 was possible.
One evening she had hinted at the necessity of retrenching15, when Mrs. Chevassat had shot at her a venomous glance, which pierced her to the very marrow16 of her bones.
“It must be done,” she said to herself.
In her mind she felt as if the five francs were a kind of daily ransom17 which she paid the estimable concierge18’s wife for her good-will. It is true, that, for such a consideration, the terrible woman was all attention for her “poor little pussy-cat;” for thus she had definitely dubbed19 Henrietta, becoming daily more familiar, and adding this odious20 and irritating presumption21 to all the other tortures of the poor girl. Many a time poor Henrietta had been made so indignant and furious, that she had been on the point of rebelling; but she had never dared, submitting to this familiarity for the same reason for which she paid her five francs every day. The old woman, taking her silence for consent, put no longer any restraint upon herself. She declared she could not comprehend how her “little pussy-cat,” young and pretty as she was, could consent to live as she did. Was that a life?
Then she always came back to M. Maxime, who continued to call regularly twice a day, the poor young man!
“And more than that, poor little pussy,” she added, “you will see that one of these days he will summon courage enough to come and offer you an apology.”
But Henrietta would not believe that.
“He will never have such consummate22 impudence,” she thought.
He had it, nevertheless. One morning, when she had just finished righting up her room, somebody knocked discreetly23, at her door. Thinking that it was Mrs. Chevassat, who brought her her breakfast, she went to the door and opened it, without asking who was there. And she started back with amazement24 and with terror when she recognized M. de Brevan.
It really looked as if he were making a supreme25 effort over himself. He was deadly pale; his lips trembled; his eyes looked dim and uncertain; and he moved his lips and jaws26 as if he had gravel27 in his mouth.
“I have come, madam,” he said, “to ask if you have reconsidered.”
She made no reply, looking at him with an air of contempt which would have caused a man with some remnant of honor in his heart to flee from the spot instantly. But he had, no doubt, armed himself beforehand, against contempt.
“I know,” he continued, “that my conduct must appear abominable28 in your eyes. I have led you into this snare3, and I have meanly betrayed a friend’s confidence; but I have an excuse. My passion is stronger than my will, than my reason.”
“You may think so, madam, if you choose. I shall not even attempt to clear myself. That is not what I came for. I came solely31 for the purpose of enlightening you in regard to your own position, which you do not seem to realize.”
If she had followed her own impulses, Henrietta would have driven the wretch32 away. But she thought she ought to know his intentions and his plans. She overcame her disgust, therefore, and remained silent.
“In the first place,” said M. de Brevan, apparently33 trying to collect his thoughts, “bear this in mind, madam. You are ruined in reputation, and ruined through me. All Paris is convinced, by this time, that I have run away with you; and that I keep you concealed34 in a charming place, where we enjoy our mutual35 love; in fact, that you are my mistress.”
He seemed to expect an explosion of wrath36. By no means! Henrietta remained motionless like a statue.
“What would you have?” he went on in a tone of sarcasm37. “My coachman has been talking. Two friends of mine, who reached the palace on foot when I drove up, saw you jump into my coupe; and, as if that had not been enough, that absurd M. Elgin must needs call me out. We had a duel39, and I have wounded him.”
The manner in which the young girl shrugged40 her shoulders showed but too clearly that she did not believe M. de Brevan. He added,—
“If you doubt it, madam, pray read this, then, at the top of the second column.”
She took the paper which he offered her, and there she read,—
“Yesterday, in the woods near Vincennes, a duel with swords was fought between M. M. de B—— and one of the most distinguished41 members of our American colony. After five minutes’ close combat, M. E—— was wounded in the arm. It is said that the sudden and very surprising disappearance42 of one of the greatest heiresses of the Faubourg Saint Germain was not foreign to this duel. Lucky M. de B—— is reported to know too much of the beautiful young lady’s present home for the peace of the family. But surely these lines ought to be more than enough on the subject of an adventure which will ere long, no doubt, end in a happy and brilliant marriage.”
“You see, madam,” said M. de Brevan, when he thought Henrietta had had time enough to read the article, “you see it is not I who advise marriage. If you will become my wife, your honor is safe.”
“Ah, sir!”
In that simple utterance43 there was so much contempt, and such profound disgust, that M. de Brevan seemed to turn, if possible, whiter than before.
“Ah! I see you prefer marrying M. Thomas Elgin,” he said.
She only shrugged her shoulders; but he went on,—
“Oh, do not smile! He or I; you have no other alternative. Sooner or later you will have to choose.”
“I shall not choose, sir.”
“Oh, just wait till poverty has come! Then you think, perhaps, you will only need to implore44 your father to come to your assistance. Do not flatter yourself. Your father has no other will but that of the Countess Sarah; and the Countess Sarah will have it so, that you marry Sir Thorn.”
“I shall not appeal to my father, sir.”
“Then you probably count upon Daniel’s return? Ah, believe me! do not indulge in such dreams. I have told you Daniel loves the Countess Sarah; and, even if he did not love her, you have been too publicly disgraced for him ever to give you his name. But that is nothing yet. Go to the navy department, and they will tell you that ‘The Conquest’ is out on a cruise of two years more. At the time when Daniel returns, if he returns at all (which is very far from being certain), you will long since have become Mrs. Elgin or Madame de Brevan, unless”—
Henrietta looked at him so fixedly45, that he could not bear the glance; and then she said in a deep voice,—
“Unless I die! did you not mean that? Be it so.”
Coldly M. de Brevan bowed, as if he intended to say,—
“Yes, unless you should be dead: that was what I meant.”
Then, opening the door, he added,—
“Let me hope, madam, that this is not your last word. I shall, however, have the honor of calling every week to receive your orders.”
And, bowing, he left the room.
“What brought him here, the wretch! What does he want of me?”
Thus she questioned herself as soon as she was alone, and the door was ‘shut.’ And her anguish46 increased tenfold; for she did not believe a word of the pretexts47 which M. de Brevan had assigned for his visit. No, she could not admit that he had come to see if she had reflected, nor that he really cherished that abominable hope, that misery48, hunger, and fear would drive her into his arms.
“He ought to know me well enough,” she thought with a new access of wrath, “to be sure that I would prefer death a thousand times.”
There was no doubt in her mind that this step, which had evidently been extremely painful to himself, had become necessary through some all-powerful consideration. But what could that be? By a great effort of mind Henrietta recalled, one by one, all the phrases used by M. de Brevan, in the hope that some word might give her light; but she discovered nothing. All he had told her as to the consequences of her flight, she had foreseen before she had resolved to escape. He had told her nothing new, but his duel with Sir Thorn; and, when she considered the matter, she thought that, also, quite natural. For did they not both covet49 with equal eagerness the fortune which she would inherit from her mother as soon as she came of age? The antagonism50 of their interests explained, she thought, their hatred51; for she was well convinced that they hated each other mortally. The idea that Sir Thorn and M. de Brevan understood each other, and pursued a common purpose, never entered her mind; and, if it had suggested itself, she would have rejected it as absurd.
Must she, then, come to the conclusion that M. de Brevan had really, when he appeared before her, no other aim but to drive her to despair? But why should he do so? what advantage would that be to him? The man who wants to make a girl his own does not go to work to chill her with terror, and to inspire her with ineffable52 disgust. Still M. de Brevan had done this; and therefore he must aim at something different from that marriage of which he spoke53.
What was that something? Such abominable things are not done for the mere54 pleasure of doing them, especially if that involves some amount of danger. Now, it was very clear, that upon Daniel’s return, whether he still loved Henrietta or not, M. de Brevan would have a terrible account to give to that brave sailor who had trusted him with the care of his betrothed55. Did M. de Brevan ever think of that return? Oh, yes! he did; and with secret terror. There was proof of that in one of the phrases that had escaped him.
After having said, “When Daniel returns,” he had added, “if he ever returns, which is by no means sure.”
Why this proviso? Had he any reasons to think that Daniel might perish in this dangerous campaign? Now she remembered, yes, she remembered distinctly, that M. de Brevan had smiled in a very peculiar56 way when he had said these words. And, as she recalled this, her heart sank within her, and she felt as if she were going to faint. Was he not capable of anything, the wretched man, who had betrayed him so infamously,—capable even of arming an assassin?
“Oh, I must warn Daniel!” she exclaimed, “I must warn him, and not lose a minute.”
And, although she had written him a long letter only the day before, she wrote again, begging him to be watchful57, to mistrust everybody, because most assuredly his life was threatened. And this letter she carried herself to the post-office, convinced as she was that to confide29 it to Mrs. Chevassat would have been the same as to send it to M. de Brevan.
It was astonishing, however, how the estimable lady seemed to become day by day more attached to Henrietta, and how expansive and demonstrative her affections grew. At all hours of the day, and on the most trivial pretexts, she would come up, sit down, and for entire hours entertain her with her intolerable speeches. She did not put any restraint upon herself any longer, but talked “from the bottom of her heart” with her “dear little pussy-cat,” as if she had been her own daughter. The strange doctrines58 at which she had formerly59 only hinted, she now proclaimed without reserve, boasting of an open kind of cynicism, which betrayed a terrible moral perversity60. It looked as if the horrible Megsera had been deputed by Henrietta’s enemies for the special purpose of demoralizing and depraving her, if possible, and to drive her into the brilliant and easy life of sin in which so many unhappy women perish.
Fortunately, in this case, the messenger was ill-chosen. The eloquence61 of Mrs. Chevassat, which very likely would have inflamed62 the imagination of some poor but ambitious girl, caused nothing but disgust in Henrietta’s heart. She had gotten into the habit of thinking of other things while the old woman was holding forth63; and her noble soul floated off to regions where these vulgarities could reach her no more.
Her life was, nevertheless, a very sad one. She never went out, spending her days in her chamber64, reading, or working at a great embroidery65, a masterpiece of patience and taste, which she had undertaken with a faint hope that it might become useful in case of distress66. But a new source of trouble roused her soon after from this dull monotony. Her money grew less and less; and at last the day came when she changed the last gold-piece of her nine hundred francs. It became urgent to resort once more to the pawnbroker67; for these were the first days of April, and the honeyed words of Mrs. Chevassat had given her to understand that she had better get ready to pay on the 8th her rent, which amounted to a hundred francs.
She intrusted therefore to the concierge the remaining ring to be pawned68. Calculating from the sum she had received for the first ring, she hoped to obtain for this one, at the very least, five or six hundred francs.
The concierge brought her one hundred and ninety francs.
At first, she was convinced the man had robbed her; and she gave him to understand that she thought so. But he showed her the receipt in a perfect rage.
“Look there,” he said, “and remember to whom you are talking!”
On the receipt she read in fact these words: “Advanced, two hundred francs.” Convinced of the injustice69 of her accusations70, Henrietta had to make her apologies, and hardly succeeded by means of a ten-franc-piece in soothing71 the man’s wounded feelings.
Alas72! the poor girl did not know that one is always at liberty to pledge an article only for a given sum, a part of its real value; and she was too inexperienced in such matters to notice the reference to that mode of pawning73 on her receipt. However, it was one of those mishaps74 for poor Henrietta which cannot be mended, and from which we never recover. She lost two months’ existence, the very time, perhaps, that was needed till Daniel’s return. Still the day when the rent was due came, and she paid her hundred francs. The second day after that, she was once more without money, and, according to Mrs. Chevassat’s elegant expression, forced to “live on her poor possessions.” But the pawnbroker had too cruelly disappointed her calculations: she would not resort to him again, and risk a second disappointment.
This time she thought she would, instead of pawning, sell, her gold- dressing-case; and she requested the obliging lady below to procure75 her a purchaser. At first Mrs. Chevassat raised a host of objections.
“To sell such a pretty toy!” she said, “it’s murder! Just think, you’ll never see it again. If, on the other hand, you carry it to ‘Uncle’ you can take it out again as soon as you have a little money.”
But she lost her pains, she saw and at last consented to bring up a kind of dealer76 in toilet-articles, an excellent honest man, she declared, in whom one could put the most absolute confidence. And he really showed himself worthy77 of her warm recommendation; for he offered instantly five hundred francs for the dressing-case, which was not worth much more than three times as much. Nor was this his last bid. After an hour’s irritating discussions, after having ten times pretended to leave the room, he drew with many sighs his portemonnaie from its secret home, and counted upon the table the seven hundred francs in gold upon which Henrietta had stoutly78 insisted.
That was enough to pay Mrs. Chevassat for four months’ board.
“But no,” said the poor young girl to herself, “that would be pusillanimous79 in the highest degree.”
And that very evening she summoned all her courage, and told the formidable woman in a firm tone of voice, that henceforth she would only take one meal, dinner. She had chosen this half-way measure in order not to avoid a scene, for that she knew she could not hope for, but a regular falling-out.
Contrary to all expectations, the concierge’s wife appeared neither surprised nor angry. She only shrugged her shoulders as she said,—
“As you like, my ‘little pussy-cat.’ Only believe me, it is no use economizing in one’s eating.”
From the day of this coup38 d’etat, Henrietta went down every morning herself to buy her penny-roll and the little supply of milk which constituted her breakfast. For the rest of the day she did not leave her room, busying herself with her great work; and nothing broke in upon the distressing80 monotony of her life but the weekly visits of M. de Brevan.
For he did not forget his threat; and every week Henrietta was sure to see him come. He came in with a solemn air, and coldly asked if she had reflected since he had had the honor of presenting his respects to her. She did not answer him ordinarily, except by a look of contempt; but he did not seem in the least disconcerted. He bowed respectfully, and invariably said, before leaving the room,—
“Next time, then; I can wait. Oh! I have time; I can wait.”
If he hoped thus to conquer Henrietta more promptly82, he was entirely83 mistaken. This periodical insult acted only as an inducement to keep up her wrath and to increase her energy. Her pride rose at the thought of this unceasing struggle; and she swore that she would be victorious84. It was this sentiment which inspired her with a thought, which, in its results, was destined85 to have a decisive influence on her future.
It was now the end of June, and she saw with trembling her little treasure grow smaller and smaller; when one day she asked Mrs. Chevassat, who seemed to be of unusually good-humor, if she could not procure her some work. She told her that she was considered quite skilful86 in all kinds of needlework.
But the woman laughed at the first words, and said,—
“Leave me alone! Are hands like yours made to work?”
And when Henrietta insisted, and showed her, as a proof of what she could do, the embroidery which she had commenced, she replied,—
“That is very pretty; but embroidering87 from morning till night would not enable a fairy to keep a canary-bird.”
There was probably some truth in what she said, exaggerated as it sounded; and the poor girl hastened to add that she understood other kinds of work also. She was a first-class musician, for instance, and fully81 able to give music-lessons, or teach singing, if she could only get pupils. At these words a ray of diabolic satisfaction lighted up the old woman’s eyes; and she cried out,—
“What, my ‘pussy-cat,’ could you play dancing-music, like those artists who go to the large parties of fashionable people?”
“Certainly!”
“Well, that is a talent worth something! Why did you not tell me before? I will think of it, and you shall see.”
On the next Saturday, early in the morning, she appeared in Henrietta’s room with the bright face of a bearer of good news.
“I have thought of you,” she said as soon as she entered.
“Ah!”
“We have a tenant88 in the house who is going to give a large party to-night. I have mentioned you to her; and she says she will give you thirty francs if you will make her guests jump. Thirty francs! That’s a big sum; and besides, if they are pleased, you will get more customers.”
“In what part of the house does she live?”
“In the second story of the back building, looking upon the yard. Mrs. Hilaire, a very nice person, and so good! there is no one like her. You would have to be there at nine o’clock precisely89.”
“I’ll come.”
Quite happy, and full of hope, Henrietta spent a part of the afternoon in mending her only dress, a black silk dress, much worn unfortunately, and already often repaired. Still, by much skill and patience, she had managed to look quite respectable when she rang the bell at Mrs. Hilaire’s door. She was shown into a room furnished with odd furniture, but brilliantly lighted, in which seven or eight ladies in flaming costumes, and as many fashionable gentlemen, were smoking and taking coffee. Both ladies and gentlemen had just risen from table; there was no mistaking it from their eyes and the sound of their voices.
“Look! there is the musician from the garret!” exclaimed a large, dark-skinned woman, pretty, but very vulgar, who seemed to be Mrs. Hilaire.
And, turning to Henrietta, she asked,—
“Will you take a little glass of something, my darling?”
The poor girl blushed crimson90, and, painfully embarrassed, declined, and asked pardon for declining; when the lady broke in rather rudely, and said,—
“You are not thirsty? Very well. You’ll drink after some time. In the meantime will you play us a quadrille? and mark the time, please.”
Then imitating with distressing accuracy the barking voice of masters of ceremonies at public balls, she called out,—
“Take your positions, take your positions: a quadrille!”
Henrietta had taken her seat at the piano. She turned her back to the dancers; but she had before her a mirror, in which she saw every gesture of Mrs. Hilaire and her guests. And then she became quite sure of what she had suspected from the beginning. She understood into what company she had been inveigled91 by the concierge’s wife. She had, however, sufficient self-control to finish the quadrille. But, when the last figure had been danced, she rose; and, walking up to the mistress of the house, said, stammering92 painfully, and in extreme embarrassment,—
“Please excuse me, madam, I have to leave. I feel very unwell. I could not play any more.”
“How funny!” cried one of the gentlemen. “Here is our ball at an end!”
But the young woman said,—
“Hush, Julius! Don’t you see how pale she is,—pale like death, the poor child! What is the matter with you, darling? Is it the heat that makes you feel badly? It is stifling93 hot here.”
And, when Henrietta was at the door, she said,—
“Oh, wait! I do not trouble people for nothing. Come, Julius, turn your pockets inside out, and give the little one a twenty-franc-piece.”
The poor girl was almost outside, when she turned, and said,—
“Thank you, madam; but you owe me nothing.”
It was high time for Henrietta to leave. Her first surprise had been followed by mad anger, which drove the blood to her head, and made her weep bitter tears. She knew now that Mrs. Chevassat had caught her in this trap. What could the wretched woman have meant?
Carried away by an irresistible94 impulse, and no longer mistress of herself, Henrietta rushed down stairs, and broke like a whirlwind into the little box of the concierge, crying out,—
“How could you dare to send me to such people? You knew all about it. You are a wretch!”
Master Chevassat was the first to rise, and said,—
“What is the matter? Do you know to whom you are talking?”
But his wife interrupted him with a gesture, and, turning to Henrietta, said with cynic laughter,—
“Well, what next? Are these people not good enough for you; eh? In the first place, I am tired of your ways, my ‘pussy-cat.’ When one is a beggar, as you are, one stays at home like a good girl; and one does not run away with a young man, and gad95 about the world with lovers.”
Thereupon she took advantage of the fact that Henrietta had paused upon the threshold, to push her brutally96 out of the room at the risk of throwing her down, and fiercely banged the door. An hour afterwards the poor girl vehemently97 reproached herself for her passion.
“Alas!” she said to herself, weeping, “the weak, the unhappy, have no right to complain. Who knows what this wicked woman will now do to avenge98 herself?”
She found it out the second day afterwards.
Coming down a little before seven o’clock, in order to buy her roll and her milk for breakfast, she met at the entrance-door Mrs. Hilaire, face to face. At the sight of the poor girl, that irascible woman turned as red as a poppy, and, rushing up to her, seized her by the arm, and shook it furiously, crying out at the same time with the full force of her lungs,—
“Ah, it is you, miserable99 beggar, who go and tell stories on me! Oh, what wickedness! A beggar whom I had sent for to allow her to earn thirty francs! And I must needs think she is sick, and pity her, and ask Julius to give her a twenty-franc-piece.”
Henrietta felt that she ought not to blame this woman, who, after all, had shown her nothing but kindness. But she was thoroughly100 frightened, and tried to get away. The woman, however, held her fast, and cried still louder, till several tenants101 came to the open windows.
“They’ll make you pay for that, my darling,” she yelled, amid foul102 oaths, which her wrath carried along with it, as a torrent103 floats down stones and debris104. “They’ll make you pay for it! You’ll have to clear out of here, I tell you!”
And the threat was not an idle one. That very afternoon the same lamentable105 scene was repeated; and so it went on every morning and every day. Mrs. Hilaire had friends in the house, who took up the quarrel, and fell upon Henrietta whenever she appeared. They lay in wait for her by turns; and she no sooner ventured upon the staircase than the shouts began; so that the unfortunate girl no longer dared leave the house. Early in the morning, as soon as the door was opened, she ran out to buy her daily provisions; then, running up swiftly, she barricaded106 herself in her chamber, and never stirred out again.
Surely, there was no lack of desire on her part to leave the house. But where should she go? Besides, the unknown frightened her; might it not have still greater terrors in reserve for her?
At last she was entirely without money.
In July her rent had cost her a hundred francs, and she had been compelled to buy a dress in place of her merino dress, which was falling to pieces. In the first days of August she was at the end of her resources. Nor would she have been able to make them last so long, even if she had not, ever since that evening at Mrs. Hilaire’s, done entirely without the expensive board of Mrs. Chevassat. Even this rupture107, at which Henrietta had at first rejoiced, became now to her a source of overwhelming trouble. She had still a few things that she might sell,—a brooch, her cashmere, her watch, and her ear-rings; but she did not know how and to whom she could sell them.
All the stories by which the wicked woman down stairs had tried to frighten her from going herself to the pawnbroker came back to her mind; and she saw herself, at the first attempt, arrested by the police, examined, and carried back to her father, handed over to Sarah and Sir Thorn, and—
Still want pressed her hard; and at last, after long hesitation108, one evening, at dark, she slipped out to find a purchaser. What she was looking for was one of those dark little shops in which men lie in wait for their prey109, whom the police always suspects, and carefully watches. She found one such as she desired. An old woman with spectacles on her nose, without even asking her name, and evidently taking her to be a thief, gave her, for her brooch and her ear-rings, a hundred and forty francs.
What was this sum of money? A nothing; Henrietta understood that perfectly110. And hence, overcoming all her reserve and her reluctance111, she vowed she would try every thing in her power to obtain work.
She kept her word, sustained by a secret hope of triumphing, by dint112 of energy and perseverance113, over fate itself. She went from store to store, from door to door, so to say, soliciting114 employment, as she would have asked for alms, promising115 to do any thing that might be wanted, in return merely for her board and lodging116. But it was written that every thing should turn against her. Her beauty, her charms, her distinguished appearance, her very manner of speaking, were so many obstacles in her way. Who could think of engaging a girl as a servant, who looked like a duchess? So that all her prayers only met with cold faces, shrugging of shoulders, and ironical117 smiles. She was refused everywhere. It is true that now and then some gallant118 clerk replied to her application by a declaration of love.
Chance had thrown into her hands one of those small handbills which bill-stickers paste upon the gutters119, and in which workwomen are “wanted.” Henceforth she spent her days in looking up these handbills, and in going to places from which they were issued. But here she met with the same difficulties. There was no end of questions.
“Who are you? Where have you been? By whom have you been employed?” and finally, always the same distressing answer,—
“We cannot employ persons like you.”
Then she went to an employment agency. She had noticed one which displayed at the door a huge placard, on which places were offered from thirty-five up to a thousand francs a month. She went up stairs. A very loquacious120 gentleman made her first deposit a considerable sum, and then told her he had exactly what she wanted. She went ten times back to the office, and always in vain. After an eleventh appointment, he gave her the address of two houses, in one of which he assured her she would certainly be employed. These two houses turned out to be two small shops, where pretty young ladies were wanted to pour out absinthe, and to wait upon the customers.
This was Henrietta’s last effort. For ten months she had now been struggling with a kind of helpless fury against inconquerable difficulties, and at last the springs of her energy had lost their elasticity121. Now, crushed in body and mind, overwhelmed and conquered, she gave up.
It lacked still eighteen months before she would become of age. Since she had escaped from her father’s house, she had not received a line from Daniel, although she had constantly written to him, and she had, of course, no means of ascertaining122 the date of his return. She had once, following M. de Brevan’s advice, summoned courage enough to go to the navy department, and there to inquire if they had any news about “The Conquest.” A clerk had replied to her, with a joke, that “The Conquest” might be afloat yet “a year or two.” How could the poor girl wait till then? Why should she any longer maintain the useless struggle? She felt acute pains in her chest; she coughed; and, after walking a few yards, her legs gave way under her, and she broke out in cold perspiration123. She now spent her days almost always in bed, shivering with chills, or plunged124 in a kind of stupor125, during which her mind was filled with dismal126 visions. She felt as if the very sources of life were drying up within her, and as if all her blood was, drop by drop, oozing127 out of her through an open wound.
“If I could die thus!” she thought.
This was the last favor she asked of God. Henceforth, a miracle alone could save her; and she hardly wished to be saved. A perfect indifference128 and intense distaste of every thing filled her soul. She thought she had exhausted129 all that man can suffer; and there was nothing left for her to fear.
A last misfortune which now befell her did not elicit130 even a sigh from her. One afternoon, while she had been down stairs, she had left the window open. The wind had suddenly sprung up, slammed the blinds, and thus upset a chair. On this chair hung her cashmere; it fell into the fireplace, in which a little fire was still burning; and when she came back she found the shawl half-burnt to ashes. It was the only article of value which she still possessed131; and she might at any time have procured132 several hundred francs for it.
“Well,” she said, “what does it matter? It means three months taken from my life; that is all.”
And she did not think of it any more; she did not even trouble herself about the rent, which became due in October.
“I shall not be able to pay it,” she said to herself. “Mrs. Chevassat will give me notice, and then the hour will have come.”
Still, to her great surprise, the worthy woman from below did not scold her for not having the money ready, and even promised she would make the owner of the house give her time. This inexplicable133 forbearance gave Henrietta a week’s respite134. But at last, one morning, she woke up, having not a cent left, having nothing even, she thought, that she could get money for, and being very hungry.
“Well,” she thought, as if announcing to her own soul that the catastrophe135 had at last come, “all I need now is a few minutes’ courage.”
She said so in her mind; but in reality she was chilled to the heart by the fearful certainty that the crisis had really come: she felt as if the executioner were at the door of the room, ready to announce her sentence of death. And yet, for a month now, she had thought of suicide only; and the evening before she had thought it over with a kind of delight.
“I am surely not such a coward?” she said to herself in a fit of rage.
Yes, she was afraid. Yes, she told herself in vain that there was no other choice left to her but that between death and Sir Thorn, or M. de Brevan. She was terrified.
Alas! she was only twenty years old; she had never felt such exuberance136 of life within her; she wanted to live,—to live a month more, a week, a day!
If only her shawl had not been burnt! Then, examining with haggard eyes her chamber, she saw that exquisite137 piece of embroidery which she had undertaken. It was a dress, covered all over with work of marvellous delicacy139 and exquisite outlines. Unfortunately, it was far from being finished.
“Never mind!” she said to herself; “perhaps they will give me something for it.”
And, wrapping the dress up hastily, she hurried to offer it for sale to the old woman who had already bought her ear-rings, and then her watch. The fearful old hag seemed to be overcome with surprise when she saw this marvel138 of skill.
“That’s very fine,” she said; “why, it is magnificent! and, if it were finished, it would be worth a mint of money; but as it is no one would want it.”
She consented, however, to give twenty francs for it, solely from love of art, she said; for it was money thrown away. These twenty francs were, for Henrietta, an unexpected release.
“It will last me a month,” she thought, determined140 to live on dry bread only; “and who can tell what a month may bring forth?”
And this unfortunate girl had an inheritance from her mother of more than a million! If she had but known it, if she had but had a single friend to advise her in her inexperience! But she had been faithful to her vow6 never to let her secret be known to a living soul; and the most terrible anguish had never torn from her a single complaint.
M. de Brevan knew this full well; for he had continued his weekly visits with implacable regularity141. This perseverance, which had at first served to maintain Henrietta’s courage, had now become a source of unspeakable torture.
But he, shrugging his shoulders, had answered,—
“If you count upon that alone, you may as well surrender, and become my wife at once.”
She turned her head from him with an expression of ineffable disgust. Rather the icy arms of Death! And still the pulsations of her heart were apparently counted. Since the end of November her twenty francs had been exhausted; and to prolong her existence she had had to resort to the last desperate expedients143 of extreme poverty. All that she possessed, all that she could carry from her chamber without being stopped by the concierge, she had sold, piece by piece, bit after bit, for ten cents, for five cents, for a roll. Her linen had been sacrificed first; then the covering of her bed, her curtains, her sheets. The mattress144 had gone the way of the rest,—the wool from the inside first, carried off by handfuls; then the ticking.
Thus, on the 25th of December, she found herself in a chamber as utterly145 denuded146 as if a fire had raged there; while she herself had on her body but a single petticoat under her thin alpaca dress, without a rag to cover herself in these wintry nights. Two evenings before, when terror triumphed over her resolution for a time, she had written her father a long letter. He had made no reply. Last night she had again written in these words:—
“I am hungry, and I have no bread. If by tomorrow at noon you have not come to my assistance, at one o’clock you will have ceased to have a daughter.”
Tortured by cold and hunger, emaciated147, and almost dying, she had waited for an answer. At noon nothing had come. She gave herself time till four o’clock. Four o’clock, and no answer.
“I must make an end of it,” she said to herself.
Her preparations had been made. She had told the Cerberus below that she would be out all the evening; and she had procured a considerable stock of charcoal148. She wrote two letters,—one to her father, the other to M. de Brevan.
After that she closed hermetically all the openings in her room, kindled149 two small fires, and, having commended her soul to God, stretched herself out on her bed. It was five o’clock.
A dense150, bitter vapor151 spread slowly through the room; and the candle ceased to give a visible light. Then she felt as if an iron screw were tightening152 on her temples. She was suffocating153, and felt a desire to sleep; but in her stomach she suffered intense pains.
Then strange and incoherent thoughts arose deliriously154 in her head; her ears were filled with confused noises; her pulse beat with extraordinary vehemence155; nausea156 nearly convulsed her; and from time to time she fancied terrific explosions were breaking her skull157 to pieces.
The candle went out. Maddened by a sensation of dying, she tried to rise; but she could not. She wanted to cry; but her voice ended in a rattle158 in her throat.
Then her ideas became utterly confused. Respiration159 ceased. It was all over. She was suffering no longer.
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收听单词发音
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1
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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2
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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3
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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4
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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5
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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7
economize
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| v.节约，节省 | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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destitution
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| n.穷困，缺乏，贫穷 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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12
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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13
refinements
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| n.（生活）风雅；精炼( refinement的名词复数 )；改良品；细微的改良；优雅或高贵的动作 | |
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14
economizing
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| v.节省，减少开支( economize的现在分词 ) | |
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15
retrenching
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| v.紧缩开支( retrench的现在分词 )；削减（费用）；节省 | |
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16
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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18
concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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19
dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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20
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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21
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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22
consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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23
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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24
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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25
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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26
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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27
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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28
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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29
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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30
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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31
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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32
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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33
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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34
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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35
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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36
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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37
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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38
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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39
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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40
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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41
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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42
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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43
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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44
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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45
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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46
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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47
pretexts
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| n.借口，托辞( pretext的名词复数 ) | |
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48
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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49
covet
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| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
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50
antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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51
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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52
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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53
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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54
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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55
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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56
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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57
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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58
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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59
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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60
perversity
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| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
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61
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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62
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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64
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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65
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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66
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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67
pawnbroker
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| n.典当商，当铺老板 | |
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68
pawned
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| v.典当，抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
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69
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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70
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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71
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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72
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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73
pawning
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| v.典当，抵押( pawn的现在分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
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74
mishaps
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| n.轻微的事故，小的意外( mishap的名词复数 ) | |
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75
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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76
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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77
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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78
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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79
pusillanimous
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| adj.懦弱的，胆怯的 | |
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80
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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81
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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82
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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83
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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84
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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85
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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86
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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87
embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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88
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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89
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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90
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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91
inveigled
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| v.诱骗，引诱( inveigle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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93
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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94
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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95
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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96
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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97
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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98
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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99
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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100
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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101
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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102
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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103
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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104
debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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105
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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106
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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107
rupture
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| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
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108
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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109
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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110
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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111
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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112
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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113
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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114
soliciting
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| v.恳求( solicit的现在分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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116
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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122
ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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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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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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141
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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expedients
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| n.应急有效的，权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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denuded
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| adj.[医]变光的，裸露的v.使赤裸( denude的过去式和过去分词 )；剥光覆盖物 | |
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emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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deliriously
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| adv.谵妄（性）；发狂；极度兴奋/亢奋；说胡话 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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158
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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