an old maid-第32章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



it。　But　there　is　another　sorrow　of　mothers　who　alone　know　what　their

child　was　really；　who　alone　have　received　his　smiles　and　observed　the

treasures　of　a　life　too　soon　cut　short。　That　sorrow　hides　its　woe；　the

blackness　of　which　surpasses　all　other　mourning；　it　cannot　be

described；　happily　there　are　but　few　women　whose　heart…strings　are

thus　severed。



Before　Madame　du　Bousquier　returned　to　town；　Madame　du　Ronceret；　one

of　her　good　friends；　had　driven　out　to　Prebaudet　to　fling　this　corpse

upon　the　roses　of　her　joy；　to　show　her　the　love　she　had　ignored；　and

sweetly　shed　a　thousand　drops　of　wormwood　into　the　honey　of　her　bridal

month。　As　Madame　du　Bousquier　drove　back　to　Alencon；　she　chanced　to

meet　Madame　Granson　at　the　corner　of　the　rue　Val…Noble。　The　glance　of

the　mother；　dying　of　her　grief；　struck　to　the　heart　of　the　poor　woman。

A　thousand　maledictions；　a　thousand　flaming　reproaches；　were　in　that

look：　Madame　du　Bousquier　was　horror…struck；　that　glance　predicted　and

called　down　evil　upon　her　head。



The　evening　after　the　catastrophe；　Madame　Granson；　one　of　the　persons

most　opposed　to　the　rector　of　the　town；　and　who　had　hitherto　supported

the　minister　of　Saint…Leonard；　began　to　tremble　as　she　thought　of　the

inflexible　Catholic　doctrines　professed　by　her　own　party。　After

placing　her　son's　body　in　its　shroud　with　her　own　hands；　thinking　of

the　mother　of　the　Saviour；　she　went；　with　a　soul　convulsed　by　anguish；

to　the　house　of　the　hated　rector。　There　she　found　the　modest　priest　in

an　outer　room；　engaged　in　putting　away　the　flax　and　yarns　with　which

he　supplied　poor　women；　in　order　that　they　might　never　be　wholly　out

of　work；a　form　of　charity　which　saved　many　who　were　incapable　of

begging　from　actual　penury。　The　rector　left　his　yarns　and　hastened　to

take　Madame　Granson　into　his　dining…room；　where　the　wretched　mother

noticed；　as　she　looked　at　his　supper；　the　frugal　method　of　his　own

living。



〃Monsieur　l'abbe；〃　she　said；　〃I　have　come　to　implore　you〃　She　burst

into　tears；　unable　to　continue。



〃I　know　what　brings　you；〃　replied　the　saintly　man。　〃I　must　trust　to

you；　madame；　and　to　your　relation；　Madame　du　Bousquier；　to　pacify

Monseigneur　the　Bishop　at　Seez。　Yes；　I　will　pray　for　your　unhappy

child；　yes；　I　will　say　the　masses。　But　we　must　avoid　all　scandal；　and

give　no　opportunity　for　evil…judging　persons　to　assemble　in　the

church。　I　alone；　without　other　clergy；　at　night〃



〃Yes；　yes；　as　you　think　best；　if　only　he　may　lie　in　consecrated

ground；〃　said　the　poor　mother；　taking　the　priest's　hand　and　kissing

it。



Toward　midnight　a　coffin　was　clandestinely　borne　to　the　parish　church

by　four　young　men；　comrades　whom　Athanase　had　liked　the　best。　A　few

friends　of　Madame　Granson；　women　dressed　in　black；　and　veiled；　were

present；　and　half　a　dozen　other　young　men　who　had　been　somewhat

intimate　with　this　lost　genius。　Four　torches　flickered　on　the　coffin；

which　was　covered　with　crape。　The　rector；　assisted　by　one　discreet

choirboy；　said　the　mortuary　mass。　Then　the　body　of　the　suicide　was

noiselessly　carried　to　a　corner　of　the　cemetery；　where　a　black　wooden

cross；　without　inscription；　was　all　that　indicated　its　place　hereafter

to　the　mother。　Athanase　lived　and　died　in　shadow。　No　voice　was　raised

to　blame　the　rector；　the　bishop　kept　silence。　The　piety　of　the　mother

redeemed　the　impiety　of　the　son's　last　act。



Some　months　later；　the　poor　woman；　half　beside　herself　with　grief；　and

moved　by　one　of　those　inexplicable　thirsts　which　misery　feels　to　steep

its　lips　in　the　bitter　chalice；　determined　to　see　the　spot　where　her

son　was　drowned。　Her　instinct　may　have　told　her　that　thoughts　of　his

could　be　recovered　beneath　that　poplar；　perhaps；　too；　she　desired　to

see　what　his　eyes　had　seen　for　the　last　time。　Some　mothers　would　die

of　the　sight；　others　give　themselves　up　to　it　in　saintly　adoration。

Patient　anatomists　of　human　nature　cannot　too　often　enunciate　the

truths　before　which　all　educations；　laws；　and　philosophical　systems

must　give　way。　Let　us　repeat　continually：　it　is　absurd　to　force

sentiments　into　one　formula：　appearing　as　they　do；　in　each　individual

man；　they　combine　with　the　elements　that　form　his　nature　and　take　his

own　physiognomy。



Madame　Granson；　as　she　stood　on　that　fatal　spot；　saw　a　woman　approach

it；　who　exclaimed；



〃Was　it　here？〃



That　woman　wept　as　the　mother　wept。　It　was　Suzanne。　Arriving　that

morning　at　the　hotel　du　More；　she　had　been　told　of　the　catastrophe。　If

poor　Athanase　had　been　living；　she　meant　to　do　as　many　noble　souls；

who　are　moneyless；　dream　of　doing；　and　as　the　rich　never　think　of

doing；she　meant　to　have　sent　him　several　thousand　francs；　writing　up

the　envelope　the　words：　〃Money　due　to　your　father　from　a　comrade　who

makes　restitution　to　you。〃　This　tender　scheme　had　been　arranged　by

Suzanne　during　her　journey。



The　courtesan　caught　sight　of　Madame　Granson　and　moved　rapidly　away；

whispering　as　she　passed　her；　〃I　loved　him！〃



Suzanne；　faithful　to　her　nature；　did　not　leave　Alencon　on　this

occasion　without　changing　the　orange…blossoms　of　the　bride　to　rue。　She

was　the　first　to　declare　that　Madame　du　Bousquier　would　never　be

anything　but　Mademoiselle　Cormon。　With　one　stab　of　her　tongue　she

revenged　poor　Athanase　and　her　dear　chevalier。



Alencon　now　witnessed　a　suicide　that　was　slower　and　quite　differently

pitiful　from　that　of　poor　Athanase；　who　was　quickly　forgotten　by

society；　which　always　makes　haste　to　forget　its　dead。　The　poor

Chevalier　de　Valois　died　in　life；　his　suicide　was　a　daily　occurrence

for　fourteen　years。　Three　months　after　the　du　Bousquier　marriage

society　remarked；　not　without　astonishment；　that　the　linen　of　the

chevalier　was　frayed　and　rusty；　that　his　hair　was　irregularly　combed

and　brushed。　With　a　frowsy　head　the　Chevalier　de　Valois　could　no

longer　be　said　to　exist！　A　few　of　his　ivory　teeth　deserted；　though　the

keenest　observers　of　human　life　were　unable　to　discover　to　what　body

they　had　hitherto　belonged；　whether　to　a　foreign　legion　or　whether

they　were　indigenous；　vegetable　or　animal；　whether　age　had　pulled　them

from　the　chevalier's　mouth；　or　whether　they　were　left　forgotten　in　the

drawer　of　his　dressing…table。　The　cravat　was　crooked；　indifferent　to

elegance。　The　negroes'　heads　grew　pale　with　dust　and　grease。　The

wrinkles　of　the　face　were　blackened　and　puckered；　the　skin　became

parchment。　The　nails；　neglected；　were　often　seen；　alas！　with　a　black

velvet　edging。　The　waistcoat　was　tracked　and　stained　with　droppings

which　spread　upon　its　surface　like　autumn　leaves。　The　cotton　in　the

ears　was　seldom　changed。　Sadness　reigned　upon　that　brow；　and　slipped

its　yellowing　tints　into　the　depths　of　each　furrow。　In　short；　the

ruins；　hitherto　so　cleverly　hidden；　now　showed　through　the　cracks　and

crevices　of　that　fine　edifice；　and　proved　the　power　of　the　soul　over

the　body；　for　the　fair　and　dainty　man；　the　cavalier；　the　young　blood；

died　when　hope　deserted　him。　Until　then　the　nose　of　the　chevalier　was

ever　delicate　and　nice；　never　had　a　damp　black　blotch；　nor　an　amber

drop　fall　from　it；　but　now　that　nose；　smeared　with　tobacco　around　the

nostrils；　degraded　by　the　driblets　which　took　advantage　of　the　natural

gutter　placed　between　itself　and　the　upper　lip；that　nose；　which　no

longer　cared　to　seem　agreeable；　revealed　the　infinite　pains　which　the

chevalier　had　formerly　taken　with　his　person；　and　made　observers

comprehend；　by　the　extent　of　its　degradation；　the　greatness　and

persistence　of　the　man's　designs　upon　Mademoiselle　Cormon。



Alas；　too；　the　anecdotes　went　the　way　of　the　teeth；　the　clever　sayings

grew　rare。　The　appetite；　however；　remained；　the　old　nobleman　saved

nothing　but　his　stomach　from　the　wreck　of　his　hopes；　though　he

languidly　prepared　his　pinches　of　snuff；　he　ate　alarming　dinners。

Perhaps　you　will　more　fully　understand　the　disaster　that　this　marriage

was　to　the　mind　and　heart　of　the　chevalier　when　you　learn　that　his

intercourse　with　t