But at that very hour the tenant1 of the fourth story, Papa Ravinet, the second-hand2 dealer3, was going to his dinner. If he had gone down as usually, by the front staircase, no noise would have reached him. But Providence4 was awake. That evening he went down the back stairs, and heard the death-rattle of the poor dying girl. In our beautiful egotistical days, many a man, in the place of this old man, would not have gone out of his way. He, on the contrary, hurried down to inform the concierge5. Many a man, again, would have been quieted by the apparent calmness of the Chevassat couple, and would have been satisfied with their assurance that Henrietta was not at home. He, however, insisted, and, in spite of the evident reluctance6 of the concierge and his wife, compelled them to go up, and brought out, by his words first, and then by his example, one tenant after another.
It was he likewise, who, while the concierge and the other people were deliberating, directed what was to be done for the dying girl, and who hastened to fetch from his magazine a mattress7, sheets, blankets, wood to make a fire, in fact, every thing that was needed in that bare chamber8.
A few moments later Henrietta opened her eyes. Her first sensation was a very strange one.
In the first place she was utterly9 amazed at feeling that she was in a warm bed,—she who had, for so many days, endured all the tortures of bitter cold. Then, looking around, she was dazzled by the candles that were burning on her table, and the beautiful, bright fire in her fireplace. And then she looked with perfect stupor10 at all the women whom she did not know, and who were bending over her, watching her movements.
Had her father at last come to her assistance?
No, for he would have been there; and she looked in vain for him among all these strange people.
Then, understanding from some words which were spoken close by her, that it was to chance alone she owed her rescue from death, she was filled with indescribable grief.
“To have suffered all that can be suffered in dying,” she said to herself, “and then not to die after all!”
She almost had a feeling of hatred12 against all these people who were busying themselves around her. Now that they had brought her back to life, would they enable her to live?
Nevertheless, she distinguished13 very clearly what was going on in her room. She recognized the wealthy ladies from the first story, who had stayed to nurse her, and between them Mrs. Chevassat, who assumed an air of great activity, while she explained to them how Henrietta had deceived her affectionate heart in order to carry out her fatal purpose.
“You see, I did not dream of any thing,” she protested in a whining14 tone. “A poor little pussy-cat, who was always merry, and this morning yet sang like a bird. I thought she might be a little embarrassed, but never suspected such misery16. You see, ladies, she was as proud as a queen, and as haughty17 as the weather. She would rather have died than ask for assistance; for she knew she had only a word to say to me. Did I not already, in October, when I saw she would not be able to pay her rent, become responsible for her?”
And thereupon the infamous18 hypocrite bent19 over the poor girl, kissed her on her forehead, and said with a tender tone of voice,—
“Did you not love me, dear little pussy-cat; did not you? I know you loved poor old Mrs. Chevassat.”
Unable to articulate a word, even if she had understood what was said, poor Henrietta shivered, shrank with horror and disgust from the contact with those lying lips. And the emotion which this feeling caused her did more for her than all the attentions that were paid her. Still, it was only after the doctor, who had been sent for, had come and bled her, that she was restored to the full use of her faculties20. Then she thanked, in a very feeble voice, the people around her, assuring them that she felt much better now, and might safely be left alone.
The two wealthy ladies, whom curiosity had carried off at the moment when they were sitting down to dinner, did not wait for more, and, very happy to be released, slipped away at once. But the concierge’s wife remained by Henrietta’s bedside till she was alone with her victim; and then every thing changed in her face, tone of voice, look, and manner.
“Well,” she commenced, “now you are happy, miss! You have advertised my house, and it will all be in the papers. Everybody will pity you, and think your lover a cold-blooded villain21, who lets you die of starvation.”
The poor young girl deprecated the charge with such a sweet, gentle expression of face, that a savage22 would have been touched; but Mrs. Chevassat was civilized23.
“And still you know very well,” she went on in a bitter tone, “that dear M. Maxime has done all he could to save you. Only day before yesterday, he offered you his whole fortune”—
Mercy—Mrs. Chevassat! What a joke!
“You would take nothing,” she continued, “from M. Maxime. Why, I ask you? To play the virtuous25 woman, was it? It was hardly worth while, if you meant, immediately afterwards, to accept that old miser15, who will make life hard enough for you. Ah, you have fallen into nice hands!”
Gathering26 up all the strength that had come back to her, Henrietta raised herself on the pillows, and asked,—
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing! I see. After all, you would have it so. Besides, he had been looking after you a long time already.”
As soon as Henrietta opened her eyes, Papa Ravinet had discreetly27 withdrawn28, in order to leave the ladies, who were about her, time to undress her. Thus she had not seen the man who had saved her, and did not understand the allusions29 of the old woman.
“Explain, madam, explain!”
“Ah, upon my word! that is not difficult. The man who has pulled you out, who has brought you all these things to make your bed, and kindle30 a fire; why, that is the second-hand dealer of the fourth story! And he will not stop there, I am sure. Patience, and you will know well enough what I mean.”
It must be borne in mind, that the woman, for fear Henrietta might sell to Papa Ravinet what she had to sell, or for some other reason, had always painted the old man to her in colors by no means flattering.
“What ought I to be afraid of?” asked Henrietta.
The woman hesitated. At last she answered,—
“If I were to tell you, you would repeat it to him when he comes back.”
“No, I promise you.”
“Swear it on your mother’s sacred memory.”
“I swear.”
Thus reassured31, the old woman came close up to her bed; and, in an animated32 but low voice, she said,—
“Well, I mean this: if you accept now what Papa Ravinet will offer you, in six months you will be worse than any of Mrs. Hilaire’s girls. Ah! don’t tell me ‘I do not mean to touch him.’ The old rascal33 has ruined more than one who was just as good as you are. That’s his business; and, upon my word! he understands it. Now, forewarned, forearmed. I am going down to make you a soup. I’ll be back at night. And above all, you hear, not a word!”
“Great God!” she said to herself, “why must the generous assistance of this old man be a new snare35 for me?”
With her elbow resting on her pillow, her forehead supported by her hand, her eyes streaming with tears, she endeavored to gather her ideas, which seemed to be scattered36 to the four winds, like the leaves of trees after a storm; when a modest, dry cough aroused her from her meditations37.
She trembled, and raised her head.
In the framework of the open door stood a man of mature age and of medium height, looking at her.
It was Papa Ravinet, who, after a long conversation with the concierge, and after some words with his amiable38 wife, had come up to inquire after his patient. She guessed at it, rather than she knew; for, although she lived in the same house with him, she was not in the same part of the building, and she scarcely recollected39 having caught a glimpse of him now and then in crossing the yard.
Now, it is true that this man, with his mournful face, his huge, brushlike eyebrows41, and his small, yellow eyes, startling by their incessant42 activity, had for the observer something enigmatical about him, and therefore did not inspire much confidence.
Nevertheless, Henrietta thanked him none the less heartily43, although greatly embarrassed, for his readiness to help her, his kind care, and his generosity44 in providing every thing she wanted.
“Oh! you owe me no thanks,” he said. “I have only done my duty, and that very imperfectly.”
And at once, in a rather grim manner, he began to tell her that what he had done was nothing in comparison with what he meant to do. He had but too well guessed what had led Henrietta to attempt suicide; he had only to look around her room. But he swore she should have nothing more to fear from want as long as he was there.
But, the more earnest and pressing the good man became in his protestations, the more Henrietta drew back within her usual reserve; her mind being filled with the prejudices instilled46 by Mrs. Chevassat. Fortunately he was a clever man, the old dealer; and by means of not saying what might shock her, and by saying much that could not fail to touch her, he gradually regained47 his position. He almost conquered her when he returned to her the letters she had written before making her dreadful preparations, and when she saw that they looked unhurt, and sealed as before. Thus, when he left her, after half an hour’s diplomatic intercourse48, he had obtained from the poor young girl the promise that she would not renew the attempt at her life, and that she would explain to him by what fatal combination of circumstances she had been reduced to such extreme suffering.
“You would not hesitate,” he said, “if you knew how easy it often is, by a little experience, to arrange the most difficult matters.”
Henrietta did not hesitate. A thought which had occurred to her as soon as she found herself alone had brought her to this conclusion: “If Papa Ravinet were really what Mrs. Chevassat says, that bad woman would not have warned me against him. If she tries to keep me from accepting the old man’s assistance, she no doubt finds it to her advantage that I should do so.”
When she tried, after that, to examine as coolly as she could the probable consequences of her decision, she found enormous chances in her favor. If Papa Ravinet was sincere, she might be enabled to wait for Daniel; if he was not sincere, what did she risk? She who had not feared death itself need not fear any thing else. Lucretia’s dagger49 will always protect a brave woman’s liberty.
But still, in spite of the pressing need she had for rest, her promise kept her awake for the greater part of the night; for she passed in her mind once more over the whole lamentable50 story of her sufferings, and asked herself what she might confess to, and what she ought to withhold51 from the old dealer. Had he not already discovered, by the address of one of her letters, that she was the daughter of Count Ville-Handry? And just that she would have liked to keep him from knowing. On the other hand, was it not foolish to ask the advice of a man to whom we will not confess the whole truth?
“I must tell him all,” she said, “or nothing.” And, after a moment’s reflection, she added,—“I will tell him all, and keep nothing back.” She was in this disposition52, when in the morning, about nine o’clock, Papa Ravinet reappeared in her room. He looked very pale, the old man; and the expression of his face, and the tone of his voice, betrayed an emotion which he could scarcely control, together with deep anxiety.
“Well?” he asked forgetting in his preoccupation to inquire even how the poor girl had passed the night.
She shook her head sadly, and replied, pointing to a chair,—
“I have made up my mind, sir; sit down, please, and listen to me.” The old dealer had been fully53 convinced that Henrietta would come to that; but he had not hoped for it so soon. He could not help exclaiming, “At last!” and intense, almost delirious54 joy shone in his eyes. Even this joy seemed to be so unnatural55, that the young girl was made quite uncomfortable by it. Fixing her eyes upon the old man with all the power of observation of which she was capable, she said,—
“I am fully aware that what I am about to do is almost unparalleled in rashness. I put myself, to a certain extent, absolutely in your power, sir,—the power of an utter stranger, of whom I am told I have every thing to fear.”
“O miss!” he declared, “believe me”—
But she interrupted him, saying with great solemnity,—
“I think, if you were to deceive me, you would be the meanest and least of men. I rely upon your honor.”
And then in a firm voice she began the account of her life, from that fatal evening on which her father had said to her,—
“I have resolved, my daughter, to give you a second mother.”
The old dealer had taken a seat facing Henrietta, and listened, fixing his eyes upon her face as if to enter into her thoughts, and to anticipate her meaning. His face was all aglow56 with excitement, like the face of a gambler who is watching the little white ball that is to make him a rich man or a beggar. It looked almost as if he had foreseen the terrible communication she was making, and was experiencing a bitter satisfaction at finding his presentiments57 confirmed,—
“That is so! Yes, of course that had to come next.”
And all these people whose abominable60 intrigues61 Henrietta was explaining to him were apparently62 better known to him than to her, as if he had frequently been in contact with them, or even lived in their intimacy63. He gave his judgment64 on each one with amazing assurance, as the occasion presented itself, saying,—
“Ah! There I recognize Sarah and Mrs. Brian.”
Or,—
“Sir Thorn never does otherwise.”
Or, again,—
“Yes, that is all over Maxime de Brevan.”
And, according to the different phases of the account, he would laugh bitterly and almost convulsively, or he would break out in imprecations.
“What a trick!” he murmured with an accent of deep horror, “what an infernal snare!”
At another point he turned deadly pale, and almost trembled on his chair, as if he were feeling ill, and were about to fall. Henrietta was telling him at that moment, from Daniel’s recital65, the circumstances under which M. de Kergrist had died, and Malgat had disappeared,—that poor cashier who had left such an immense deficit66 behind; who had been condemned67 to penal68 servitude; and whose body the police believed to have found in a wood near Paris. But, as soon as the young girl had finished, he rose all of a sudden, and cried out in a formidable voice,—
And, breaking down under his excessive excitement, he sank into his chair, covering his face with his hands. Henrietta was dumfounded; she looked aghast at the old man, in whom she now placed all her hopes. Already, the night before, she had had some suspicions that he was not what he seemed to be; now she was quite sure. But who was he? She had nothing to go by to solve that riddle70.
This only she thought she saw clearly, that Sarah Brandon, Mrs. Brian, and M. Thomas Elgin, as well as M. de Brevan, had at some time or other come in personal contact with Papa Ravinet, and that he hated them mortally.
“Unless he should try to deceive me,” she thought, not having quite shaken off all doubts yet.
“Let no one, henceforth, deny Providence!” he exclaimed. “Ah! fools and idiots alone can do so. M. de Brevan had every reason to think that this house would keep the secret of his crime as safe as the grave, and so brought you here. And here it happens I must chance to live,—of all men, I,—and he remain unaware72 of it! By a kind of miracle we are brought together under the same roof,—you, the daughter of Count Ville-Handry, and I, one after the other, without knowing each other; and, at the very moment when this Brevan is about to triumph, Providence brings us together, and this meeting ruins him!”
His voice betrayed his fierce joy at approaching vengeance73; his sallow cheeks flushed up; and his eyes shone brilliantly.
“For M. de Brevan was triumphing last night. The woman Chevassat, his confederate, had watched you, and noticing your preparations for committing suicide, had said to him, ‘Rejoice! at last we shall get rid of her.’”
“Is it possible?”
Then the old man, looking at her half surprised, said,—
“What! after all you have seen of M. de Brevan, you have never suspected him of meditating75 your death?”
“Why, yes! I sometimes thought so.”
“Well, this time you were right, madam. Ah! you do not know your enemies yet. But I know them, I; for I have had a chance of measuring the depth of their wickedness. And there your safety would lie, if you would follow my advice.”
“I will, sir.”
Papa Ravinet was evidently a little embarrassed. He said, however,—
“You see, madam, I shall have to ask you to trust me blindly.”
“I will trust you blindly.”
“It is of the utmost importance that you should escape out of reach of M. de Brevan; he must lose every trace of you. You will, consequently, have to leave this house.”
“I will leave it.”
“And in the way I say.”
“I will obey you in every point.”
The last shadow of trouble which had still overclouded the old dealer’s brow vanished as if by magic.
“Then all will go well,” he said, rubbing his hands as if he were taking off the skin; “and I guarantee the rest. Let us make haste to understand each other; for I have been here a long time, and the woman Chevassat must be on needles. Still, it is important she should not suspect that we are acting76 in concert.”
As if afraid that an indiscreet ear might be listening at the door, he drew his chair quite close to Henrietta’s bed, and whispered in a voice but just audible to her,—
“As soon as I have turned my back that woman will come up, burning with curiosity to know what has happened between us. You must pretend to be very angry with me. Give her to understand that you think me a wicked old man, who wants you to pay the price of infamy77 for the services I wish to render to you.”
“But, sir”—
“Perhaps you dislike telling a falsehood?”
“You see—I cannot, I fear. It would not be easy to lie so as to deceive Mrs. Chevassat.”
“Ah, madam, you must! it cannot be helped. If you admit the absolute necessity, you may succeed in misleading her. Remember that we must fight the enemy with his own weapons.”
“Well, then, I will try, sir.”
“So be it. The rest, you will see, is a small matter. As soon as night falls, you will dress, and watch for the moment when the concierge, as usually, goes about the house lighting79 the gas. As soon as you see him on the great staircase; you will make haste and run down. I shall take measures to have the woman Chevassat either kept engaged, or out of the house; and you will thus find it easy to slip out without being perceived. Once in the street, you will turn to the right. At the corner of the street, in front of the great Auction-Mart, you will see a cab standing11, with a plaid handkerchief like this hanging out of the window. Get into it boldly; I’ll be inside. I do not know if I have made it all clear to you?”
“Then we understand each other. Do you feel strong enough?”
“Yes, sir. You may rely on me.”
Every thing passed off just as the old dealer had foreseen; and Henrietta played her part so well, that at night, when her disappearance80 was discovered, Mrs. Chevassat was neither much surprised nor troubled.
“She was tired of life, the girl!” she said to her husband. “I saw it when I was up there. We’ll see her again at the Morgue. As the charcoal81 did not do the work, she has tried the water.”
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1
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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8
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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9
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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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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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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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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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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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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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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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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43
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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46
instilled
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| v.逐渐使某人获得（某种可取的品质），逐步灌输( instill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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51
withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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52
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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presentiments
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| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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deficit
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| n.亏空，亏损；赤字，逆差 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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shuddered
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| 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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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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