modeste mignon-第33章

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wrote　another　long　letter；　this　time　to　her　father。



On　the　morrow；　Francois　Cochet；　terrified　at　seeing　the　Havre　postmark

on　the　envelope　which　Ernest　had　mailed　the　night　before；　brought　her

young　mistress　the　following　letter　and　took　away　the　one　which

Modeste　had　written：



　　To　Mademoiselle　O。　d'Este　M。；My　heart　tells　me　that　you　were　the

　　woman　so　carefully　veiled　and　disguised；　and　seated　between

　　Monsieur　and　Madame　Latournelle；　who　have　but　one　child；　a　son。

　　Ah；　my　love；　if　you　have　only　a　modest　station；　without　

　　distinction；　without　importance；　without　money　even；　you　do　not

　　know　how　happy　that　would　make　me。　You　ought　to　understand　me　by

　　this　time；　why　will　you　not　tell　me　the　truth？　I　am　no　poet；

　　except　in　heart；　through　love；　through　you。　Oh！　what　power　of

　　affection　there　is　in　me　to　keep　me　here　in　this　hotel；　instead　of

　　mounting　to　Ingouville　which　I　can　see　from　my　windows。　Will　you

　　ever　love　me　as　I　love　you？　To　leave　Havre　in　such　uncertainty！　Am

　　I　not　punished　for　loving　you　as　if　I　had　committed　a　crime？　But　I

　　obey　you　blindly。　Let　me　have　a　letter　quickly；　for　if　you　have

　　been　mysterious；　I　have　returned　you　mystery　for　mystery；　and　I

　　must　at　last　throw　off　my　disguise；　show　you　the　poet　that　I　am；

　　and　abdicate　my　borrowed　glory。



This　letter　made　Modeste　terribly　uneasy。　She　could　not　get　back　the

one　which　Francoise　had　carried　away　before　she　came　to　the　last

words；　whose　meaning　she　now　sought　by　reading　them　again　and　again；

but　she　went　to　her　own　room　and　wrote　an　answer　in　which　she　demanded

an　immediate　explanation。







CHAPTER　XIV



MATTERS　GROWN　COMPLICATED



During　these　little　events　other　little　events　were　going　on　in　Havre；

which　caused　Modeste　to　forget　her　present　uneasiness。　Dumay　went　down

to　Havre　early　in　the　morning；　and　soon　discovered　that　no　architect

had　been　in　town　the　day　before。　Furious　at　Butscha's　lie；　which

revealed　a　conspiracy　of　which　he　was　resolved　to　know　the　meaning；　he

rushed　from　the　mayor's　office　to　his　friend　Latournelle。



〃Where's　your　Master　Butscha？〃　he　demanded　of　the　notary；　when　he　saw

that　the　clerk　was　not　in　his　place。



〃Butscha；　my　dear　fellow；　has　gone　to　Paris。　He　heard　some　news　of　his

father　this　morning　on　the　quays；　from　a　Swedish　sailor。　It　seems　the

father　went　to　the　Indies　and　served　a　prince；　or　something；　and　he　is

now　in　Paris。〃



〃Lies！　it's　all　a　trick！　infamous！　I'll　find　that　damned　cripple　if

I've　got　to　go　express　to　Paris　for　him；〃　cried　Dumay。　〃Butscha　is

deceiving　us；　he　knows　something　about　Modeste；　and　hasn't　told　us。　If

he　meddles　in　this　thing　he　shall　never　be　a　notary。　I'll　roll　him　in

the　mud　from　which　he　came；　I'll〃



〃Come；　come；　my　friend；　never　hang　a　man　before　you　try　him；〃　said

Latournelle；　frightened　at　Dumay's　rage。



After　stating　the　facts　on　which　his　suspicions　were　founded；　Dumay

begged　Madame　Latournelle　to　go　and　stay　at　the　Chalet　during　his

absence。



〃You　will　find　the　colonel　in　Paris；〃　said　the　notary。　〃In　the

shipping　news　quoted　this　morning　in　the　Journal　of　Commerce；　I　found

under　the　head　of　Marseilleshere；　see　for　yourself；〃　he　said；

offering　the　paper。　〃'The　Bettina　Mignon；　Captain　Mignon；　arrived

October　6'；　it　is　now　the　17th；　and　the　colonel　is　sure　to　be　in

Paris。〃



Dumay　requested　Gobenheim　to　do　without　him　in　future；　and　then　went

back　to　the　Chalet；　which　he　reached　just　as　Modeste　was　sealing　her

two　letters；　to　her　father　and　Canalis。　Except　for　the　address　the

letters　were　precisely　alike　both　in　weight　and　appearance。　Modeste

thought　she　had　laid　that　to　her　father　over　that　to　her　Melchior；　but

had；　in　fact；　done　exactly　the　reverse。　This　mistake；　so　often　made　in

the　little　things　of　life；　occasioned　the　discovery　of　her　secret　by

Dumay　and　her　mother。　The　former　was　talking　vehemently　to　Madame

Mignon　in　the　salon；　and　revealing　to　her　his　fresh　fears　caused　by

Modeste's　duplicity　and　Butscha's　connivance。



〃Madame；〃　he　cried；　〃he　is　a　serpent　whom　we　have　warmed　in　our

bosoms；　there's　no　place　in　his　contorted　little　body　for　a　soul！〃



Modeste　put　the　letter　for　her　father　into　the　pocket　of　her　apron；

supposing　it　to　be　that　for　Canalis；　and　came　downstairs　with　the

letter　for　her　lover　in　her　hand；　to　see　Dumay　before　he　started　for

Paris。



〃What　has　happened　to　my　Black　Dwarf？　why　are　you　talking　so　loud！〃

she　said；　appearing　at　the　door。



〃Mademoiselle；　Butscha　has　gone　to　Paris；　and　you；　no　doubt；　know　why；

to　carry　on　that　affair　of　the　little　architect　with　the　sulphur

waistcoat；　who；　unluckily　for　the　hunchback's　lies；　has　never　been

here。〃



Modeste　was　struck　dumb；　feeling　sure　that　the　dwarf　had　departed　on　a

mission　of　inquiry　as　to　her　poet's　morals；　she　turned　pale；　and　sat

down。



〃I'm　going　after　him；　I　shall　find　him；〃　continued　Dumay。　〃Is　that　the

letter　for　your　father；　mademoiselle？〃　he　added；　holding　out　his　hand。

〃I　will　take　it　to　the　Mongenods。　God　grant　the　colonel　and　I　may　not

pass　each　other　on　the　road。〃



Modeste　gave　him　the　letter。　Dumay　looked　mechanically　at　the　address。



〃'Monsieur　le　Baron　de　Canalis；　rue　de　Paradis…Poissoniere；　No。　29'！〃

he　cried　out；　〃what　does　that　mean？〃



〃Ah；　my　daughter！　that　is　the　man　you　love；〃　exclaimed　Madame　Mignon；

〃the　stanzas　you　set　to　music　were　his〃



〃And　that's　his　portrait　that　you　have　in　a　frame　upstairs；〃　added

Dumay。



〃Give　me　back　that　letter；　Monsieur　Dumay；〃　said　Modeste；　erecting

herself　like　a　lioness　defending　her　cubs。



〃There　it　is；　mademoiselle；〃　he　replied。



Modeste　put　it　into　the　bosom　of　her　dress；　and　gave　Dumay　the　one

intended　for　her　father。



〃I　know　what　you　are　capable　of；　Dumay；〃　she　said；　〃and　if　you　take

one　step　against　Monsieur　de　Canalis；　I　shall　take　another　out　of　this

house；　to　which　I　will　never　return。〃



〃You　will　kill　your　mother；　mademoiselle；〃　replied　Dumay；　who　left　the

room　and　called　his　wife。



The　poor　mother　was　indeed　half…fainting；struck　to　the　heart　by

Modeste's　words。



〃Good…bye；　wife；〃　said　the　Breton；　kissing　the　American。　〃Take　care　of

the　mother；　I　go　to　save　the　daughter。〃



He　made　his　preparations　for　the　journey　in　a　few　minutes；　and　started

for　Havre。　An　hour　later　he　was　travelling　post　to　Paris；　with　the

haste　that　nothing　but　passion　or　speculation　can　get　out　of　wheels。



Recovering　herself　under　Modeste's　tender　care；　Madame　Mignon　went　up

to　her　bedroom　leaning　on　the　arm　of　her　daughter；　to　whom　she　said；

as　her　sole　reproach；　when　they　were　alone：



〃My　unfortunate　child；　see　what　you　have　done！　Why　did　you　conceal

anything　from　me？　Am　I　so　harsh？〃



〃Oh！　I　was　just　going　to　tell　it　to　you　comfortably；〃　sobbed　Modeste。



She　thereupon　related　everything　to　her　mother；　read　her　the　letters

and　their　answers；　and　shed　the　rose　of　her　poem　petal　by　petal　into

the　heart　of　the　kind　German　woman。　When　this　confidence；　which　took

half　the　day；　was　over；　when　she　saw　something　that　was　almost　a　smile

on　the　lips　of　the　too　indulgent　mother；　Modeste　fell　upon　her　breast

in　tears。



〃Oh；　mother！〃　she　said　amid　her　sobs；　〃you；　whose　heart；　all　gold　and

poetry；　is　a　chosen　vessel；　chosen　of　God　to　hold　a　sacred　love；　a

single　and　celestial　love　that　endures　for　life；　you；　whom　I　wish　to

imitate　by　loving　no　one　but　my　husband；you　will　surely　understand

what　bitter　tears　I　am　now　shedding。　This　butterfly；　this　Psyche　of　my

thoughts；　this　dual　soul　which　I　have　nurtured　with　maternal　care；　my

love；　my　sacred　love；　this　living　mystery　of　mysteriesit　is　about　to

fall　into　vulgar　hands；　and　they　will　tear　its　diaphanous　wings　and

rend　its　veil　under　the　miserable　pretext　of　enlightening　me；　of

discovering　whether　genius　is　as　prudent　as　a　banker；　whether　my

Melchior　has　saved　his　money；　or　whether　he　has　some　entanglement　to

shake　off；　they　want　to　fin