the notch on the ax and on being found out-第62章

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presented　itself　to　me　as　an　adequate　motive。

From　this　you　readily　gather　that　I　am　severely　taciturn　at　a　table
d'hote。　　I　refrain　from　joining　in　the　〃delightful　conversation〃
which　flies　across　the　table；　and　know　that　my　reticence　is
attributed　to　〃insular　pride。〃　　It　is　really　and　truly　nothing　but
impatience　of　commonplace。　　I　thoroughly　enjoy　good　talk；　but；　ask
yourself；　what　are　the　probabilities　of　hearing　that　rare　thing　in
the　casual　assemblage　of　forty　or　fifty　people；　not　brought
together　by　any　natural　affinities　or　interests；　but　thrown
together　by　the　accident　of　being　in　the　same　district；　and　in　the
same　hotel？　　They　are　not　〃forty　feeding　like　one；〃　but　like　forty。
They　have　no　community；　except　the　community　of　commonplace。　　No；
tables　d'hote　are　not　delightful；　and　do　not　gather　interesting
people　together。

Such　has　been　my　extensive　experience。　　But　this　at　Nuremberg　is　a
conspicuous　exception。　　At　that　table　there　was　one　guest　who；　on
various　grounds；　personal　and　incidental；　remains　the　most
memorable　man　I　ever　met。　　From　the　first　he　riveted　my　attention
in　an　unusual　degree。　　He　had　not；　as　yet；　induced　me　to　emerge
from　my　habitual　reserve；　for　in　truth；　although　he　riveted　my
attention；　he　inspired　me　with　a　strange　feeling　of　repulsion。　　I
could　scarcely　keep　my　eyes　from　him；　yet；　except　the　formal　bow　on
sitting　down　and　rising　from　the　table；　I　had　interchanged　no　sign
of　fellowship　with　him。　　He　was　a　young　Russian；　named　Bourgonef；
as　I　at　once　learned；　rather　handsome；　and　peculiarly　arresting　to
the　eye；　partly　from　an　air　of　settled　melancholy；　especially　in
his　smile；　the　amiability　of　which　seemed　breaking　from　under
clouds　of　grief；　and　still　more　so　from　the　mute　appeal　to　sympathy
in　the　empty　sleeve　of　his　right　arm；　which　was　looped　to　the
breast…button　of　his　coat。　　His　eyes　were　large　and　soft。　　He　had
no　beard　or　whisker；　and　only　delicate　moustaches。　　The　sorrow；
quiet　but　profound；　the　amiable　smile　and　the　lost　arm；　were
appealing　details　which　at　once　arrested　attention　and　excited
sympathy。　　But　to　me　this　sympathy　was　mingled　with　a　vague
repulsion；　occasioned　by　a　certain　falseness　in　the　amiable　smile；
and　a　furtiveness　in　the　eyes；　which　I　sawor　fanciedand　which；
with　an　inexplicable　reserve；　forming　as　it　were　the　impregnable
citadel　in　the　center　of　his　outwardly　polite　and　engaging　manner；
gave　me　something　of　that　vague　impression　which　we　express　by　the
words　〃instinctive　antipathy。〃

It　was；　when　calmly　considered；　eminently　absurd。　　To　see　one　so
young；　and　by　his　conversation　so　highly　cultured　and　intelligent；
condemned　to　early　helplessness；　his　food　cut　up　for　him　by　a
servant；　as　if　he　were　a　child；　naturally　engaged　pity；　and；　on　the
first　day；　I　cudgeled　my　brains　during　the　greater　part　of　dinner
in　the　effort　to　account　for　his　lost　arm。　　He　was　obviously　not　a
military　man；　the　unmistakable　look　and　stoop　of　a　student　told
that　plainly　enough。　　Nor　was　the　loss　one　dating　from　early　life：
he　used　his　left　arm　too　awkwardly　for　the　event　not　to　have　had　a
recent　date。　　Had　it　anything　to　do　with　his　melancholy？　　Here　was
a　topic　for　my　vagabond　imagination；　and　endless　were　the　romances
woven　by　it　during　my　silent　dinner。　　For　the　reader　must　be　told
of　one　peculiarity　in　me；　because　to　it　much　of　the　strange
complications　of　my　story　are　due；　complications　into　which　a　mind
less　active　in　weaving　imaginary　hypotheses　to　interpret　casual　and
trifling　facts　would　never　have　been　drawn。　　From　my　childhood　I
have　been　the　victim　of　my　constructive　imagination；　which　has　led
me　into　many　mistakes　and　some　scrapes；　because；　instead　of
contenting　myself　with　plain；　obvious　evidence；　I　have　allowed
myself　to　frame　hypothetical　interpretations；　which；　to　acts　simple
in　themselves；　and　explicable　on　ordinary　motives；　render　the
simple…seeming　acts　portentous。　　With　bitter　pangs　of　self…reproach
I　have　at　times　discovered　that　a　long　and　plausible　history
constructed　by　me；　relating　to　personal　friends；　has　crumpled　into
a　ruin　of　absurdity；　by　the　disclosure　of　the　primary　misconception
on　which　the　whole　history　was　based。　　I　have　gone；　let　us　say；　on
the　supposition　that　two　people　were　secretly　lovers；　on　this
supposition　my　imagination　has　constructed　a　whole　scheme　to
explain　certain　acts；　and　one　fine　day　I　have　discovered
indubitably　that　the　supposed　lovers　were　not　lovers；　but
confidants　of　their　passions　in　other　directions；　and；　of　course；
all　my　conjectures　have　been　utterly　false。　　The　secret　flush　of
shame　at　failure　has　not；　however；　prevented　my　falling　into
similar　mistakes　immediately　after。

When；　therefore；　I　hereafter　speak　of　my　〃constructive
imagination；〃　the　reader　will　know　to　what　I　am　alluding。　　It　was
already　busy　with　Bourgonef。　　To　it　must　be　added　that　vague
repulsion；　previously　mentioned。　　This　feeling　abated　on　the　second
day；　but；　although　lessened；　it　remained　powerful　enough　to　prevent
my　speaking　to　him。　　Whether　it　would　have　continued　to　abate　until
it　disappeared；　as　such　antipathies　often　disappear；　under　the
familiarities　of　prolonged　intercourse；　without　any　immediate
appeal　to　my　amour　propre；　I　know　not；　but　every　reflective　mind；
conscious　of　being　accessible　to　antipathies；　will　remember　that
one　certain　method　of　stifling　them　is　for　the　object　to　make　some
appeal　to　our　interest　or　our　vanity：　in　the　engagement　of　these
more　powerful　feelings；　the　antipathy　is　quickly　strangled。　　At　any
rate　it　is　so　in　my　case；　and　was　so　now。

On　the　third　day；　the　conversation　at　table　happening　to　turn；　as
it　often　turned；　upon　St。　Sebald's　Church；　a　young　Frenchman；　who
was　criticising　its　architecture　with　fluent　dogmatism；　drew
Bourgonef　into　the　discussion；　and　thereby　elicited　such　a　display
of　accurate　and　extensive　knowledge；　no　less　than　delicacy　of
appreciation；　that　we　were　all　listening　spellbound。　　In　the　midst
of　this　triumphant　exposition　the　irritated　vanity　of　the　Frenchman
could　do　nothing　to　regain　his　position　but　oppose　a　flat　denial　to
a　historical　statement　made　by　Bourgonef；　backing　his　denial　by　the
confident　assertion　that　〃all　the　competent　authorities〃　held　with
him。　　At　this　point　Bourgonef　appealed　to　me；　and　in　that　tone　of
deference　so　exquisitely　flattering　from　one　we　already　know　to　be
superior　he　requested　my　decision；　observing　that；　from　the　manner
in　which　he　had　seen　me　examine　the　details　of　the　architecture；　he
could　not　be　mistaken　in　his　confidence　that　I　was　a　connoisseur。
All　eyes　were　turned　upon　me。　　As　a　shy　man；　this　made　me　blush；　as
a　vain　man；　the　blush　was　accompanied　with　delight。　　It　might
easily　have　happened　that　such　an　appeal；　acting　at　once　upon
shyness　and　ignorance；　would　have　inflamed　my　wrath；　but　the　appeal
happening　to　be　directed　on　a　point　which　I　had　recently
investigated　and　thoroughly　mastered；　I　was　flattered　at　the
opportunity　of　a　victorious　display。

The　pleasure　of　my　triumph　diffused　itself　over　my　feelings　towards
him　who　had　been　the　occasion　of　it。　　The　Frenchman　was　silenced；
the　general　verdict　of　the　company　was　too　obviously　on　our　side。
From　this　time　the　conversation　continued　between　Bourgonef　and
myself；　and　he　not　only　succeeded　in　entirely　dissipating　my　absurd
antipathywhich　I　now　saw　to　have　been　founded　on　purely　imaginary
grounds；　for　neither　the　falseness　nor　the　furtiveness　could　now　be
detectedbut　he　succeeded　in　captivating　all　my　sympathy。　　Long
after　dinner　was　over；　and　the　salle　empty；　we　sat　smoking　our
cigars；　and　discussing　politics；　literature；　and　art　in　that
suggestive　desultory　manner　which　often　gives　a　charm　to　casual
acquaintances。

It　was　a　stirring　epoch；　that　of　February；　1848。　　The　Revolution；
at　first　so　hopeful；　and　soon　to　manifest　itself　in　failure　so
disastrous；　was　hurrying　to　an　outburst。　　France　had　been　for　many
months　agitated　by　cries　of　electoral　reform；　and　by　indignation　at
the　corruption　and　scandals　in　high　places。　　The　Praslin　murder；
and　the　dishonor　of　M。　Teste；　terminated　by　suicide；　had　been
interpreted　as　signs　of　the　coming　destruction。　　The　political
banquets