ferragus-第31章
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their frail boat on their way to their work。
〃/Tiens/！ fifty francs earned！〃 said one of them。
〃True；〃 said the other。
They approached the body。
〃A handsome girl！ We had better go and make our statement。〃
And the two dredgers； after covering the body with their jackets； went
to the house of the village mayor； who was much embarrassed at having
to make out the legal papers necessitated by this discovery。
The news of this event spread with the telegraphic rapidity peculiar
to regions where social communications have no distractions； where
gossip； scandal； calumny； in short； the social tale which feasts the
world has no break of continuity from one boundary to another。 Before
long； persons arriving at the mayor's office released him from all
embarrassment。 They were able to convert the /proces…verbal/ into a
mere certificate of death； by recognizing the body as that of the
Demoiselle Ida Gruget； corset…maker； living rue de la Corderie…du…
Temple； number 14。 The judiciary police of Paris arrived； and the
mother； bearing her daughter's last letter。 Amid the mother's moans； a
doctor certified to death by asphyxia； through the injection of black
blood into the pulmonary system；which settled the matter。 The
inquest over； and the certificates signed； by six o'clock the same
evening authority was given to bury the grisette。 The rector of the
parish； however； refused to receive her into the church or to pray for
her。 Ida Gruget was therefore wrapped in a shroud by an old peasant…
woman； put into a common pine…coffin； and carried to the village
cemetery by four men； followed by a few inquisitive peasant…women； who
talked about the death with wonder mingled with some pity。
The widow Gruget was charitably taken in by an old lady who prevented
her from following the sad procession of her daughter's funeral。 A man
of triple functions； the bell…ringer； beadle； and grave…digger of the
parish； had dug a grave in the half…acre cemetery behind the church；
a church well known； a classic church； with a square tower and pointed
roof covered with slate； supported on the outside by strong corner
buttresses。 Behind the apse of the chancel； lay the cemetery； enclosed
with a dilapidated wall；a little field full of hillocks； no marble
monuments； no visitors； but surely in every furrow； tears and true
regrets； which were lacking to Ida Gruget。 She was cast into a corner
full of tall grass and brambles。 After the coffin had been laid in
this field； so poetic in its simplicity； the grave…digger found
himself alone； for night was coming on。 While filling the grave； he
stopped now and then to gaze over the wall along the road。 He was
standing thus； resting on his spade； and looking at the Seine； which
had brought him the body。
〃Poor girl！〃 cried the voice of a man who suddenly appeared。
〃How you made me jump； monsieur；〃 said the grave…digger。
〃Was any service held over the body you are burying？〃
〃No； monsieur。 Monsieur le cure wasn't willing。 This is the first
person buried here who didn't belong to the parish。 Everybody knows
everybody else in this place。 Does monsieurWhy； he's gone！〃
Some days had elapsed when a man dressed in black called at the house
of Monsieur Jules Desmarets； and without asking to see him carried up
to the chamber of his wife a large porphyry vase； on which were
inscribed the words：
INVITA LEGE
CONJUGI MOERENTI
FILIOLAE CINERES
RESTITUIT
AMICIS XII。 JUVANTIBUS
MORIBUNDUS PATER。
〃What a man！〃 cried Jules； bursting into tears。
Eight days sufficed the husband to obey all the wishes of his wife；
and to arrange his own affairs。 He sold his practice to a brother of
Martin Falleix； and left Paris while the authorities were still
discussing whether it was lawful for a citizen to dispose of the body
of his wife。
*****
Who has not encountered on the boulevards of Paris； at the turn of a
street； or beneath the arcades of the Palais…Royal； or in any part of
the world where chance may offer him the sight； a being； man or woman；
at whose aspect a thousand confused thoughts spring into his mind？ At
that sight we are suddenly interested； either by features of some
fantastic conformation which reveal an agitated life； or by a singular
effect of the whole person； produced by gestures； air； gait； clothes；
or by some deep； intense look； or by other inexpressible signs which
seize our minds suddenly and forcibly without our being able to
explain even to ourselves the cause of our emotion。 The next day other
thoughts and other images have carried out of sight that passing
dream。 But if we meet the same personage again； either passing at some
fixed hour； like the clerk of a mayor's office； or wandering about the
public promenades； like those individuals who seem to be a sort of
furniture of the streets of Paris； and who are always to be found in
public places； at first representations or noted restaurants；then
this being fastens himself or herself on our memory； and remains there
like the first volume of a novel the end of which is lost。 We are
tempted to question this unknown person； and say； 〃Who are you？〃 〃Why
are you lounging here？〃 〃By what right do you wear that pleated
ruffle； that faded waistcoat； and carry that cane with an ivory top；
why those blue spectacles； for what reason do you cling to that cravat
of a dead and gone fashion？〃 Among these wandering creations some
belong to the species of the Greek Hermae； they say nothing to the
soul； /they are there/； and that is all。 Why？ is known to none。 Such
figure are a type of those used by sculptors for the four Seasons； for
Commerce； for Plenty； etc。 Some othersformer lawyers； old merchants；
elderly generalsmove and walk； and yet seem stationary。 Like old
trees that are half uprooted by the current of a river； they seem
never to take part in the torrent of Paris； with its youthful； active
crowd。 It is impossible to know if their friends have forgotten to
bury them； or whether they have escaped out of their coffins。 At any
rate； they have reached the condition of semi…fossils。
One of these Parisian Melmoths had come within a few days into a
neighborhood of sober； quiet people； who； when the weather is fine；
are invariably to be found in the space which lies between the south
entrance of the Luxembourg and the north entrance of the Observatoire；
a space without a name； the neutral space of Paris。 There； Paris is
no longer； and there； Paris still lingers。 The spot is a mingling of
street； square； boulevard； fortification； garden； avenue； high…road；
province； and metropolis； certainly； all of that is to be found there；
and yet the place is nothing of all that；it is a desert。 Around this
spot without a name stand the Foundling hospital； the Bourbe； the
Cochin hospital； the Capucines； the hospital La Rochefoucauld； the
Deaf and Dumb Asylum； the hospital of the Val…de…Grace； in short； all
the vices and all the misfortunes of Paris find their asylum there。
And （that nothing may lack in this philanthropic centre） Science there
studies the tides and longitudes； Monsieur de Chateaubriand has
erected the Marie…Therese Infirmary； and the Carmelites have founded a
convent。 The great events of life are represented by bells which ring
incessantly through this desert；for the mother giving birth； for the
babe that is born； for the vice that succumbs； for the toiler who
dies； for the virgin who prays； for the old man shaking with cold； for
genius self…deluded。 And a few steps off is the cemetery of Mont…
Parnasse； where； hour after hour； the sorry funerals of the faubourg
Saint…Marceau wend their way。 This esplanade； which commands a view of
Paris； has been taken possession of by bowl…players； it is； in fact； a
sort of bowling green frequented by old gray faces； belonging to
kindly； worthy men； who seem to continue the race of our ancestors；
whose countenances must only be compared with those of their
surroundings。
The man who had become； during the last few days； an inhabitant of
this desert region； proved an assiduous attendant at these games of
bowls； and must； undoubtedly； be considered the most striking creature
of these various gro
