The reason of Mme. Blanche had sustained a frightful1 shock, when Chupin was obliged to lift her and carry her from Marie-Anne’s chamber2.
But she lost consciousness entirely3 when she saw the old poacher stricken down by her side.
On and after that night Aunt Medea took her revenge for all the slights she had received.
Scarcely tolerated until then at Courtornieu, she henceforth made herself respected, and even feared.
She, who usually swooned if a kitten hurt itself, did not utter a cry. Her extreme fear gave her the courage that not unfrequently animates4 cowards when they are in some dire5 extremity6.
She seized the arm of her bewildered niece, and, by dint7 of dragging and pushing, had her back at the chateau8 in much less time than it had taken them to go to the Borderie.
It was half-past one o’clock when they reached the little garden-gate, by which they had left the grounds.
No one in the chateau was aware of their long absence.
This was due to several different circumstances. First, to the precautions taken by Blanche, who had given orders, before going out, that no one should come to her room, on any pretext9 whatever, unless she rang.
It also chanced to be the birthday of the marquis’s valet de chambre. The servants had dined more sumptuously10 than usual. They had toasts and songs over their dessert; and at the conclusion of the repast, they amused themselves by an extempore ball.
They were still dancing at half-past one; all the doors were open, and the two ladies succeeded in gaining the chamber of Blanche without being observed.
When the doors of the apartment had been securely closed, and when there was no longer any fear of listeners, Aunt Medea attacked her niece.
“Now will you explain what happened at the Borderie; and what you were doing there?” she inquired.
“Why do you wish to know?” she asked.
“Because I suffered agony during the three hours that I spent in waiting for you. What was the meaning of those despairing cries that I heard? Why did you call for aid? I heard a death-rattle that made my hair stand on end with terror. Why was it necessary for Chupin to bring you out in his arms?”
Aunt Medea would have packed her trunks, perhaps, that very evening, had she seen the glance which her niece bestowed12 upon her.
Blanche longed for power to annihilate13 this relative — this witness who might ruin her by a word, but whom she would ever have beside her, a living reproach for her crime.
“You do not answer me,” insisted Aunt Medea.
Blanche was trying to decide whether it would be better for her to reveal the truth, horrible as it was, or to invent some plausible14 explanation.
To confess all! It would be intolerable. She would place herself, body and soul, in Aunt Medea’s power.
But, on the other hand, if she deceived her, was it not more than probable that her aunt would betray her by some involuntary exclamation15 when she heard of the crime which had been committed at the Borderie?
“For she is so stupid!” thought Blanche.
She felt that it would be the wisest plan, under such circumstances, to be perfectly16 frank, to teach her relative her lesson, and to imbue17 her with some of her own firmness.
Having come to this conclusion, she disdained18 all concealment19.
“Ah, well!” she said, “I was jealous of Marie-Anne. I thought she was Martial20’s mistress. I was half crazed, and I killed her.”
She expected despairing cries, or a fainting fit; nothing of the kind. Stupid though Aunt Medea was, she had divined the truth before she interrogated21 her niece. Besides, the insults she had received for years had extinguished every generous sentiment, dried up the springs of emotion, and destroyed every particle of moral sensibility she had ever possessed22.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, “it is terrible! What if it should be discovered!”
Then she shed a few tears, but not more than she had often wept for some trifle.
Blanche breathed more freely. Surely she could count upon the silence and absolute submission23 of her dependent relative. Convinced of this, she began to recount all the details of the frightful drama which had been enacted24 at the Borderie.
She yielded to a desire which was stronger than her own will; to the wild longing25 that sometimes unbinds the tongue of the worst criminals, and forces them — irresistibly26 impels27 them — to talk of their crimes, even when they distrust their confidant.
But when she came to the proofs which had convinced her of her lamentable28 mistake, she suddenly paused in dismay.
That certificate of marriage signed by the Cure of Vigano; what had she done with it? where was it? She remembered holding it in her hands.
She sprang up, examined the pocket of her dress and uttered a cry of joy. She had it safe. She threw it into a drawer, and turned the key.
Aunt Medea wished to retire to her own room, but Blanche entreated29 her to remain. She was unwilling30 to be left alone — she dared not — she was afraid.
And as if she desired to silence the inward voice that tormented31 her, she talked with extreme volubility, repeating again and again that she was ready to do anything in expiation32 of her crime, and that she would brave impossibilities to recover Marie-Anne’s child.
And certainly, the task was both difficult and dangerous.
If she sought the child openly, it would be equivalent to a confession33 of guilt34. She would be compelled to act secretly, and with great caution.
“But I shall succeed,” she said. “I will spare no expense.”
And remembering her vow35, and the threats of her dying victim, she added:
“I must succeed. I have sworn — and I was forgiven under those conditions.”
Astonishment36 dried the ever ready tears of Aunt Medea.
That her niece, with her dreadful crime still fresh in her mind, could coolly reason, deliberate, and make plans for the future, seemed to her incomprehensible.
“What an iron will!” she thought.
But in her bewilderment she quite overlooked something that would have enlightened any ordinary observer.
Blanche was seated upon her bed, her hair was unbound, her eyes were glittering with delirium37, and her incoherent words and her excited gestures betrayed the frightful anxiety that was torturing her.
And she talked and talked, exclaiming, questioning Aunt Medea, and forcing her to reply, only that she might escape from her own thoughts.
Morning had dawned some time before, and the servants were heard bustling38 about the chateau, and Blanche, oblivious39 to all around her, was still explaining how she could, in less than a year, restore Marie-Anne’s child to Maurice d’Escorval.
She paused abruptly40 in the middle of a sentence.
Instinct had suddenly warned her of the danger she incurred41 in making the slightest change in her habits.
She sent Aunt Medea away, then, at the usual hour, rang for her maid.
It was nearly eleven o’clock, and she was just completing her toilet, when the ringing of the bell announced a visitor.
Almost immediately a maid appeared, evidently in a state of great excitement.
“What is it?” inquired Blanche, eagerly. “Who has come?”
“Ah, Madame — that is, Mademoiselle, if you only knew ——”
“Will you speak?”
“The Marquis de Sairmeuse is below, in the blue drawing-room; and he begs Mademoiselle to grant him a few moments’ conversation.”
Had a thunder-bolt riven the earth at the feet of the murderess, she could not have been more terrified.
“All must have been discovered!” this was her first thought. That alone would have brought Martial there.
She almost decided42 to reply that she was not at home, or that she was extremely ill; but reason told her that she was alarming herself needlessly, perhaps, and that, in any case, the worst was preferable to suspense43.
“Tell the marquis that I will be there in a moment,” she replied.
She desired a few minutes of solitude44 to compose her features, to regain45 her self-possession, if possible, and to conquer the nervous trembling that made her shake like a leaf.
But just as she was most disquieted46 by the thought of her peril47, a sudden inspiration brought a malicious48 smile to her lip.
“Ah!” she thought, “my agitation49 will seem perfectly natural. It may even be made of service.”
As she descended50 the grand staircase, she could not help saying to herself:
“Martial’s presence here is incomprehensible.”
It was certainly very extraordinary; and it had not been without much hesitation51 that he resolved upon this painful step.
But it was the only means of procuring52 several important documents which were indispensable in the revision of M. d’Escorval’s case.
These documents, after the baron53’s condemnation54, had been left in the hands of the Marquis de Courtornieu. Now that he had lost his reason, it was impossible to ask him for them; and Martial was obliged to apply to the daughter for permission to search for them among her father’s papers.
This was why Martial said to himself that morning:
“I will carry the baron’s safe-conduct to Marie-Anne, and then I will push on to Courtornieu.”
He arrived at the Borderie gay and confident, his heart full of hope. Alas55! Marie-Anne was dead.
No one would ever know what a terrible blow it had been to Martial; and his conscience told him that he was not free from blame; that he had, at least, rendered the execution of the crime an easy matter.
For it was indeed he who, by abusing his influence, had caused the arrest of Maurice at Turin.
But though he was capable of the basest perfidy56 when his love was at stake, he was incapable57 of virulent58 animosity.
Marie-Anne was dead; he had it in his power to revoke59 the benefits he had conferred, but the thought of doing so never once occurred to him. And when Jean and Maurice insulted him, he revenged himself only by overwhelming them by his magnanimity. When he left the Borderie, pale as a ghost, his lips still cold from the kiss pressed on the brow of the dead, he said to himself:
“For her sake, I will go to Courtornieu. In memory of her, the baron must be saved.”
By the expression on the faces of the valets when he dismounted in the court-yard of the chateau and asked to see Mme. Blanche, the marquis was again reminded of the profound sensation which this unexpected visit would produce. But, what did it matter to him? He was passing through one of those crises in which the mind can conceive of no further misfortune, and is therefore indifferent to everything.
Still he trembled when they ushered60 him into the blue drawing-room. He remembered the room well. It was here that Blanche had been wont61 to receive him in days gone by, when his fancy was vacillating between her and Marie-Anne.
How many pleasant hours they had passed together here! He seemed to see Blanche again, as she was then, radiant with youth, gay and laughing. Her naivete was affected62, perhaps, but was it any the less charming on that account?
At this very moment Blanche entered the room. She looked so careworn63 and sad that he scarcely knew her. His heart was touched by the look of patient sorrow imprinted64 upon her features.
“How much you must have suffered, Blanche,” he murmured, scarcely knowing what he said.
It cost her an effort to repress her secret joy. She saw that he knew nothing of her crime. She noticed his emotion, and saw the profit she could derive65 from it.
“I can never cease to regret having displeased66 you,” she replied, humbly67 and sadly. “I shall never be consoled.”
She had touched the vulnerable spot in every man’s heart.
For there is no man so sceptical, so cold, or so blase68 that his vanity is not pleased with the thought that a woman is dying for his sake.
There is no man who is not moved by this most delicious flattery, and who is not ready and willing to give, at least, a tender pity in exchange for such devotion.
“Is it possible that you could forgive me?” stammered69 Martial.
The wily enchantress averted70 her face as if to prevent him from reading in her eyes a weakness of which she was ashamed. It was the most eloquent71 of replies.
But Martial said no more on this subject. He made known his petition, which was granted, then fearing, perhaps, to promise too much, he said:
“Since you do not forbid it, Blanche, I will return — to-morrow — another day.”
As he rode back to Montaignac, Martial’s thoughts were busy.
“She really loves me,” he thought; “that pallor, that weakness could not be feigned72. Poor girl! she is my wife, after all. The reasons that influenced me in my rupture73 with her father exist no longer, and the Marquis de Courtornieu may be regarded as dead.”
All the inhabitants of Sairmeuse were congregated74 on the public square when Martial passed through the village. They had just heard of the murder at the Borderie, and the abbe was now closeted with the justice of the peace, relating the circumstances of the poisoning.
After a prolonged inquest the following verdict was rendered: “That a man known as Chupin, a notoriously bad character, had entered the house of Marie-Anne Lacheneur, and taken advantage of her absence to mingle75 poison with her food.”
The report added that: “Said Chupin had been himself assassinated76, soon after his crime, by a certain Balstain, whose whereabouts were unknown.”
But this affair interested the community much less than the visits which Martial was paying to Mme. Blanche.
It was soon rumored77 that the Marquis and the Marquise de Sairmeuse were reconciled, and in a few weeks they left for Paris with the intention of residing there permanently78. A few days after their departure, the eldest79 of the Chupins announced his determination of taking up his abode80 in the same great city.
Some of his friends endeavored to dissuade81 him, assuring him that he would certainly die of starvation.
“Nonsense!” he replied, with singular assurance; “I, on the contrary, have an idea that I shall not want for anything there.”
1 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 animates | |
v.使有生气( animate的第三人称单数 );驱动;使栩栩如生地动作;赋予…以生命 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 chateau | |
n.城堡,别墅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 sumptuously | |
奢侈地,豪华地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 annihilate | |
v.使无效;毁灭;取消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 plausible | |
adj.似真实的,似乎有理的,似乎可信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 imbue | |
v.灌输(某种强烈的情感或意见),感染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 disdained | |
鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 ); 不屑于做,不愿意做 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 martial | |
adj.战争的,军事的,尚武的,威武的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 interrogated | |
v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 );审问;(在计算机或其他机器上)查询 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 submission | |
n.服从,投降;温顺,谦虚;提出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 enacted | |
制定(法律),通过(法案)( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 irresistibly | |
adv.无法抵抗地,不能自持地;极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 impels | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 lamentable | |
adj.令人惋惜的,悔恨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 entreated | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 tormented | |
饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 expiation | |
n.赎罪,补偿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 confession | |
n.自白,供认,承认 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 delirium | |
n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 bustling | |
adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 oblivious | |
adj.易忘的,遗忘的,忘却的,健忘的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 incurred | |
[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 suspense | |
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 regain | |
vt.重新获得,收复,恢复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 disquieted | |
v.使不安,使忧虑,使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 procuring | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的现在分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 condemnation | |
n.谴责; 定罪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 perfidy | |
n.背信弃义,不忠贞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 virulent | |
adj.有毒的,有恶意的,充满敌意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 revoke | |
v.废除,取消,撤回 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 careworn | |
adj.疲倦的,饱经忧患的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 imprinted | |
v.盖印(imprint的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 derive | |
v.取得;导出;引申;来自;源自;出自 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 displeased | |
a.不快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 humbly | |
adv. 恭顺地,谦卑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 blase | |
adj.厌烦于享乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 averted | |
防止,避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 ); 转移 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 feigned | |
a.假装的,不真诚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 rupture | |
n.破裂;(关系的)决裂;v.(使)破裂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 congregated | |
(使)集合,聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 assassinated | |
v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 );中伤;诋毁;破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 rumored | |
adj.传说的,谣传的v.传闻( rumor的过去式和过去分词 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 permanently | |
adv.永恒地,永久地,固定不变地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 dissuade | |
v.劝阻,阻止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |