modeste mignon-第19章

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window　of　the　Chalet。



〃Well；　Francoise？〃　he　heard　the　young　girl　say；　to　which　the　maid

responded；



〃Yes；　mademoiselle；　I　have　one。〃



Struck　by　the　girl's　great　beauty；　Ernest　retraced　his　steps　and　asked

a　man　on　the　street　the　name　of　the　owner　of　that　magnificent　estate。



〃That？〃　said　the　man；　nodding　to　the　villa。



〃Yes；　my　friend。〃



〃Oh；　that　belongs　to　Monsieur　Vilquin；　the　richest　shipping　merchant

in　Havre；　so　rich　he　doesn't　know　what　he　is　worth。〃



〃There　is　no　Cardinal　Vilquin　that　I　know　of　in　history；〃　thought

Ernest；　as　he　walked　back　to　Havre　for　the　night　mail　to　Paris。

Naturally　he　questioned　the　postmaster　about　the　Vilquin　family；　and

learned　that　it　possessed　an　enormous　fortune。　Monsieur　Vilquin　had　a

son　and　two　daughters；　one　of　whom　was　married　to　Monsieur　Althor；

junior。　Prudence　kept　La　Briere　from　seeming　anxious　about　the

Vilquins；　the　postmaster　was　already　looking　at　him　slyly。



〃Is　there　there　any　one　staying　with　them　at　the　present　moment；〃　he

asked；　〃besides　the　family？〃



〃The　d'Herouville　family　is　there　just　now。　They　do　talk　of　a　marriage

between　the　young　duke　and　the　remaining　Mademoiselle　Vilquin。〃



〃Ha！〃　thought　Ernest；　〃there　was　a　celebrated　Cardinal　d'Herouville

under　the　Valois；　and　a　terrible　marshal　whom　they　made　a　duke　in　the

time　of　Henri　IV。〃



Ernest　returned　to　Paris　having　seen　enough　of　Modeste　to　dream　of

her；　and　to　think　that；　whether　she　were　rich　or　whether　she　were

poor；　if　she　had　a　noble　soul　he　would　like　to　make　her　Madame　de　La

Briere；　and　so　thinking；　he　resolved　to　continue　the　correspondence。



Ah！　you　poor　women　of　France；　try　to　remain　hidden　if　you　can；　try　to

weave　the　least　little　romance　about　your　lives　in　the　midst　of　a

civilization　which　posts　in　the　public　streets　the　hours　when　the

coaches　arrive　and　depart；　which　counts　all　letters　and　stamps　them

twice　over；　first　with　the　hour　when　they　are　thrown　into　the　boxes；

and　next　with　that　of　their　delivery；　which　numbers　the　houses；　prints

the　tax　of　every　tenant　on　a　metal　register　at　the　doors　（after

verifying　its　particulars）；　and　will　soon　possess　one　vast　register　of

every　inch　of　its　territory　down　to　the　smallest　parcel　of　land；　and

the　most　insignificant　features　of　it；a　giant　work　ordained　by　a

giant。　Try；　imprudent　young　ladies；　to　escape　not　only　the　eye　of　the

police；　but　the　incessant　chatter　which　takes　place　in　a　country　town

about　the　veriest　trifles；how　many　dishes　the　prefect　has　at　his

dessert；　how　many　slices　of　melon　are　left　at　the　door　of　some　small

householder；which　strains　its　ear　to　catch　the　chink　of　the　gold　a

thrifty　man　lays　by；　and　spends　its　evenings　in　calculating　the

incomes　of　the　village　and　the　town　and　the　department。　It　was　mere

chance　that　enabled　Modeste　to　escape　discovery　through　Ernest's

reconnoitring　expedition；a　step　which　he　already　regretted；　but　what

Parisian　can　allow　himself　to　be　the　dupe　of　a　little　country　girl？

Incapable　of　being　duped！　that　horrid　maxim　is　the　dissolvent　of　all

noble　sentiments　in　man。



We　can　readily　guess　the　struggle　of　feeling　to　which　this　honest

young　fellow　fell　a　prey　when　we　read　the　letter　that　he　now　indited；

in　which　every　stroke　of　the　flail　which　scourged　his　conscience　will

be　found　to　have　left　its　trace。



This　is　what　Modeste　read　a　few　days　later；　as　she　sat　by　her　window

on　a　fine　summer's　day：



　　Mademoiselle；Without　hypocrisy　or　evasion；　YES；　if　I　had　been

　　certain　that　you　possessed　an　immense　fortune　I　should　have　acted

　　differently。　Why？　I　have　searched　for　the　reason；　here　it　is。　We

　　have　within　us　an　inborn　feeling；　inordinately　developed　by　social

　　life；　which　drives　us　to　the　pursuit　and　to　the　possession　of

　　happiness。　Most　men　confound　happiness　with　the　means　that　lead　to

　　it；　money　in　their　eyes　is　the　chief　element　of　happiness。　I

　　should；　therefore；　have　endeavored　to　win　you；　prompted　by　that

　　social　sentiment　which　has　in　all　ages　made　wealth　a　religion。　At

　　least；　I　think　I　should。　It　is　not　to　be　expected　of　a　man　still

　　young　that　he　can　have　the　wisdom　to　substitute　sound　sense　for

　　the　pleasure　of　the　senses；　within　sight　of　a　prey　the　brutal

　　instincts　hidden　in　the　heart　of　man　drive　him　on。　Instead　of　that

　　lesson；　I　should　have　sent　you　compliments　and　flatteries。　Should

　　I　have　kept　my　own　esteem　in　so　doing？　I　doubt　it。　Mademoiselle；

　　in　such　a　case　success　brings　absolution；　but　happiness？　That　is

　　another　thing。　Should　I　have　distrusted　my　wife　had　I　won　her　in

　　that　way？　Most　assuredly　I　should。　Your　advance　on　me　would　sooner

　　or　later　have　come　between　us。　Your　husband；　however　grand　your

　　fancy　may　make　him；　would　have　ended　by　reproaching　you　for　having

　　abased　him。　You；　yourself；　might　have　come；　sooner　or　later；　to

　　despise　him。　The　strong　man　forgives；　but　the　poet　whines。　Such；

　　mademoiselle；　is　the　answer　which　my　honesty　compels　me　to　make　to

　　you。



　　And　now；　listen　to　me。　You　have　the　triumph　of　forcing　me　to

　　reflect　deeply；first　on　you；　whom　I　do　not　sufficiently　know；

　　next；　on　myself；　of　whom　I　knew　too　little。　You　have　had　the　power

　　to　stir　up　many　of　the　evil　thoughts　which　crouched　in　my　heart；

　　as　in　all　hearts；　but　from　them　something　good　and　generous　has

　　come　forth；　and　I　salute　you　with　my　most　fervent　benedictions；

　　just　as　at　sea　we　salute　the　lighthouse　which　shows　the　rocks　on

　　which　we　were　about　to　perish。　Here　is　my　confession；　for　I　would

　　not　lose　your　esteem　nor　my　own　for　all　the　treasures　of　earth。



　　I　wished　to　know　who　you　are。　I　have　just　returned　from　Havre；

　　where　I　saw　Francoise　Cochet；　and　followed　her　to　Ingouville。　You

　　are　as　beautiful　as　the　woman　of　a　poet's　dream；　but　I　do　not　know

　　if　you　are　Mademoiselle　Vilquin　concealed　under　Mademoiselle

　　d'Herouville；　or　Mademoiselle　d'Herouville　hidden　under

　　Mademoiselle　Vilquin。　Though　all　is　fair　in　war；　I　blushed　at　such

　　spying　and　stopped　short　in　my　inquiries。　You　have　roused　my

　　curiosity；　forgive　me　for　being　somewhat　of　a　woman；　it　is；　I

　　believe；　the　privilege　of　a　poet。



　　Now　that　I　have　laid　bare　my　heart　and　allowed　you　to　read　it；　you

　　will　believe　in　the　sincerity　of　what　I　am　about　to　add。　Though

　　the　glimpse　I　had　of　you　was　all　too　rapid；　it　has　sufficed　to

　　modify　my　opinion　of　your　conduct。　You　are　a　poet　and　a　poem；　even

　　more　than　you　are　a　woman。　Yes；　there　is　in　you　something　more

　　precious　than　beauty；　you　are　the　beautiful　Ideal　of　art；　of

　　fancy。　The　step　you　took；　blamable　as　it　would　be　in　an　ordinary

　　young　girl；　allotted　to　an　every…day　destiny；　has　another　aspect

　　if　endowed　with　the　nature　which　I　now　attribute　to　you。　Among　the

　　crowd　of　beings　flung　by　fate　into　the　social　life　of　this　planet

　　to　make　up　a　generation　there　are　exceptional　souls。　If　your

　　letter　is　the　outcome　of　long　poetic　reveries　on　the　fate　which

　　conventions　bring　to　women；　if；　constrained　by　the　impulse　of　a

　　lofty　and　intelligent　mind；　you　have　wished　to　understand　the　life

　　of　a　man　to　whom　you　attribute　the　gift　of　genius；　to　the　end　that

　　you　may　create　a　friendship　withdrawn　from　the　ordinary　relations

　　of　life；　with　a　soul　in　communion　with　your　own；　disregarding　thus

　　the　ordinary　trammels　of　your　sex；then；　assuredly；　you　are　an

　　exception。　The　law　which　rightly　limits　the　actions　of　the　crowd

　　is　too　limited　for　you。　But　in　that　case；　the　remark　in　my　first

　　letter　returns　in　greater　force；you　have　done　too　much　or　not

　　enough。



　　Accept　once　more　my　thanks　for　the　service　you　have　rendered　me；

　　that　of　compelling　me　to　sound　my　heart。　You　have　corrected　in　me

　　the　false　idea；　only　too　common　in　France；　that　marriage　should　be

　　a　means　of　fortune。　While　I　struggled　with　my　conscience　a　sacred

　　voice　spoke　to　me。　I　swore　solemnly　to　make　my　fortune　myself；　and

　　not　be　led　by　motives　of　cupidity