the crime of sylvestre bonnard(西维斯特·博拉德的罪行)-第27章
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that garden I first learned； while playing； to feel and know some particles
of this old universe。 Magical hours！sacred hours！when the soul； all
fresh from the making； first discoveries the world； which for its sake
seems to assume such caressing brightness； such mysterious charm！ And
that； Madame； is indeed because the universe itself is only the reflection of
our soul。
〃My mother was being very happily constituted。 She rose with the sun；
like the birds； and she herself resembled the birds by her domestic industry；
by her maternal instinct； by her perpetual desire to sing； and by a sort of
brusque grace； which I could feel the of very well even as a child。 She was
the soul of the house； which she filled with her systematic and joyous
activity。 My father was just as slow as she was brisk。 I can recall very well
that placid face of his； over which at times an ironical smile used to flit。
He was fatigued with active life； and he loved his fatigue。 Seated beside
the fire in his big arm…chair； he used to read from morning till night； and it
is from him that I inherit my love of books。 I have in my library a Mably
and a Raynal； which he annotated with his own hand from beginning to
end。 But it was utterly useless attempting to interest him in anything
practical whatever。 When my mother would try； by all kinds of gracious
little ruses； to lure him out of his retirement； he would simply shake his
head with that inexorable gentleness which is the force of weak characters。
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He used in this way greatly to worry the poor woman； who could not enter
at all into his own sphere of meditative wisdom； and could understand
nothing of life except its daily duties and the merry labour of each hour。
She thought him sick； and feared he was going to become still more so。
But his apathy had a different cause。
〃My father； entering the Naval office under Monsieur Decres； in 1801；
gave early proof of high administrative talent。 There was a great deal of
activity in the marine department in those times； and in 1805 my father
was appointed chief of the Second Administrative Division。 That same
year； the Emperor； whose attention had been called to him by the Minister；
ordered him to make a report upon the organisation of the English navy。
This work； which reflected a profoundly liberal and philosophic spirit； of
which the editor himself was unconscious； was only finished in 1807
about eighteen months after the defeat of Admiral Villeneuve at Trafalgar。
Napoleon； who； from that disastrous day； never wanted to hear the word
ship mentioned in his presence； angrily glanced over a few pages of the
memoir； and then threw it in the fire； vociferating； 'Words！words！ I said
once before that I hated ideologists。' My father was told afterwards that the
Emperor's anger was so intense at the moment that he stamped the
manuscript down into the fire with his boot… heels。 At all events； it was his
habit； when very much irritated； to poke down the fire with his boot…soles。
My father never fully recovered from this disgrace； and the fruitlessness of
all his efforts towards reform was certainly the cause of the apathy which
came upon him at a later day。 Nevertheless； Napoleon； after his return
from Elba； sent for him； and ordered him to prepare some liberal and
patriotic bulletins and proclamations for the fleet。 After Waterloo； my
father； whom the event had rather saddened than surprised； retired into
private life； and was not interfered with except that it was generally
averred of him that he was a Jacobin； a buveur…de…sangone of those men
with whom no one could afford to be on intimate terms。 My mother's
eldest brother； Victor Maldent； and infantry captainretired on half…pay in
1814； and disbanded in 1815aggravated by his bad attitude the situation
in which the fall of the Empire had placed my father。 Captain Victor used
to shout in the cafes and the public balls that the Bourbons had sold France
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to the Cossacks。 He used to show everybody a tricoloured cockade hidden
in the lining of his hat； and carried with much ostentation a walking…stick；
the handle of which had been so carved that the shadow thrown by it made
the silhouette of the Emperor。
〃Unless you have seen certain lithographs by Charlet； Madame； you
could form no idea of the physiognomy of my Uncle Victor； when he used
to stride about the garden of the Tuileries with a fiercely elegant manner of
his ownbuttoned up in his frogged coat； with his cross…of…honour upon
his breast； and a bouquet of violets in his button…hole。
〃Idleness and intemperance greatly intensified the vulgar recklessness
of his political passions。 He used to insult people whom he happened to
see reading the 'Quotidienne；' or the 'Drapeau Blanc；' and compel them to
fight with him。 In this way he had the pain and the shame of wounding a
boy of sixteen in a duel。 In short； my Uncle Victor was the very reverse of
a well…behaved person； and as he came to lunch and dine at our house
every blessed day in the year； his bad reputation became attached to our
family。 My poor father suffered cruelly from some of his guest's pranks；
but being very good…natured； he never made any remarks； and continued
to give the freedom of his house to the captain； who only despised him for
it。
〃All this which I have told you； Madame； was explained to me
afterwards。 But at the time in question； my uncle the captain filled me with
the very enthusiasm of admiration； and I promised myself to try to become
some day as like him as possible。 So one fine morning； in order to begin
the likeness； I put my arms akimbo； and swore like a trooper。 My excellent
mother at once gave me such a box on the ear that I remained half
stupefied for some little while before I could even burst out crying。 I can
still see the old arm…chair； covered with yellow Utrecht velvet； behind
which I wept innumerable tears that day。
〃I was a very little fellow then。 One morning my father； lifting me
upon his knees； as he was in the habit of doing； smiled at me with that
slightly ironical smile which gave a certain piquancy to his perpetual
gentleness of manner。 As I sat on his knee； playing with his long white hair；
he told me something which I did not understand very well； but which
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interested me very much； for the simple reason that it was mysterious to
me。 I think but am not quite sure； that he related to me that morning the
story of the little King of Yvetot； according to the song。 All of a sudden we
heard a great report； and the windows rattled。 My father slipped me down
gently on the floor at his feet； he threw up his trembling arms； with a
strange gesture； his face became all inert and white； and his eyes seemed
enormous。 He tried to speak； but his teeth were chattering。 At last he
murmured； 'They have shot him！' I did not know what he meant； and felt
only a vague terror。 I knew afterwa
