vendetta-第4章

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action　may　now　seem　to　be；　it　was　at　that　time　a　very　natural

expression　of　the　prevailing　hatred。　Ginevra　Piombo；　one　of　Servin's

first　pupils；　had　occupied　the　place　that　was　now　taken　from　her　since

the　first　day　of　her　coming　to　the　studio。　The　aristocratic　circle　had

gradually　surrounded　her。　To　drive　her　from　a　place　that　in　some　sense

belonged　to　her　was　not　only　to　insult　her；　but　to　cause　her　a　species

of　artistic　pain；　for　all　artists　have　a　spot　of　predilection　where

they　work。



Nevertheless；　political　prejudice　was　not　the　chief　influence　on　the

conduct　of　the　Right　clique　of　the　studio。　Ginevra；　much　the　ablest　of

Servin's　pupils；　was　an　object　of　intense　jealousy。　The　master

testified　as　much　admiration　for　the　talents　as　for　the　character　of

his　favorite　pupil；　who　served　as　a　conclusion　to　all　his　comparisons。

In　fact；　without　any　one　being　able　to　explain　the　ascendancy　which

this　young　girl　obtained　over　all　who　came　in　contact　with　her；　she

exercised　over　the　little　world　around　her　a　prestige　not　unlike　that

of　Bonaparte　upon　his　soldiers。



The　aristocracy　of　the　studio　had　for　some　days　past　resolved　upon　the

fall　of　this　queen；　but　no　one　had；　as　yet；　ventured　to　openly　avoid

the　Bonapartist。　Mademoiselle　Thirion's　act　was；　therefore；　a　decisive

stroke；　intended　by　her　to　force　the　others　into　becoming；　openly；　the

accomplices　of　her　hatred。　Though　Ginevra　was　sincerely　loved　by

several　of　these　royalists；　nearly　all　of　whom　were　indoctrinated　at

home　with　their　political　ideas；　they　decided；　with　the　tactics

peculiar　to　women；　that　they　should　do　best　to　keep　themselves　aloof

from　the　quarrel。



On　Ginevra's　arrival　she　was　received；　as　we　have　said；　in　profound

silence。　Of　all　the　young　women　who　had；　so　far；　come　to　Servin's

studio；　she　was　the　handsomest；　the　tallest；　and　the　best　made。　Her

carriage　and　demeanor　had　a　character　of　nobility　and　grace　which

commanded　respect。　Her　face；　instinct　with　intelligence；　seemed　to

radiate　light；　so　inspired　was　it　with　the　enthusiasm　peculiar　to

Corsicans；which　does　not；　however；　preclude　calmness。　Her　long　hair

and　her　black　eyes　and　lashes　expressed　passion；　the　corners　of　her

mouth；　too　softly　defined；　and　the　lips；　a　trifle　too　marked；　gave

signs　of　that　kindliness　which　strong　beings　derive　from　the

consciousness　of　their　strength。



By　a　singular　caprice　of　nature；　the　charm　of　her　face　was；　in　some

degree；　contradicted　by　a　marble　forehead；　on　which　lay　an　almost

savage　pride；　and　from　which　seemed　to　emanate　the　moral　instincts　of

a　Corsican。　In　that　was　the　only　link　between　herself　and　her　native

land。　All　the　rest　of　her　person；　her　simplicity；　the　easy　grace　of

her　Lombard　beauty；　was　so　seductive　that　it　was　difficult　for　those

who　looked　at　her　to　give　her　pain。　She　inspired　such　keen　attraction

that　her　old　father　caused　her；　as　matter　of　precaution；　to　be

accompanied　to　and　from　the　studio。　The　only　defect　of　this　truly

poetic　creature　came　from　the　very　power　of　a　beauty　so　fully

developed；　she　looked　a　woman。　Marriage　she　had　refused　out　of　love　to

her　father　and　mother；　feeling　herself　necessary　to　the　comfort　of

their　old　age。　Her　taste　for　painting　took　the　place　of　the　passions

and　interests　which　usually　absorb　her　sex。



〃You　are　very　silent　to…day；　mesdemoiselles；〃　she　said；　after

advancing　a　little　way　among　her　companions。　〃Good…morning；　my　little

Laure；〃　she　added；　in　a　soft；　caressing　voice；　approaching　the　young

girl　who　was　painting　apart　from　the　rest。　〃That　head　is　strong；the

flesh　tints　a　little　too　rosy；　but　the　drawing　is　excellent。〃



Laure　raised　her　head　and　looked　tenderly　at　Ginevra；　their　faces

beamed　with　the　expression　of　a　mutual　affection。　A　faint　smile

brightened　the　lips　of　the　young　Italian；　who　seemed　thoughtful；　and

walked　slowly　to　her　easel；　glancing　carelessly　at　the　drawings　and

paintings　on　her　way；　and　bidding　good…morning　to　each　of　the　young

girls　of　the　first　group；　not　observing　the　unusual　curiosity　excited

by　her　presence。　She　was　like　a　queen　in　the　midst　of　her　court；　she

paid　no　attention　to　the　profound　silence　that　reigned　among　the

patricians；　and　passed　before　their　camp　without　pronouncing　a　single

word。　Her　absorption　seemed　so　great　that　she　sat　down　before　her

easel；　opened　her　color…box；　took　up　her　brushes；　drew　on　her　brown

sleeves；　arranged　her　apron；　looked　at　her　picture；　examined　her

palette；　without；　apparently；　thinking　of　what　she　was　doing。　All

heads　in　the　group　of　the　bourgeoises　were　turned　toward　her。　If　the

young　ladies　in　the　Thirion　camp　did　not　show　their　impatience　with

the　same　frankness；　their　sidelong　glances　were　none　the　less　directed

on　Ginevra。



〃She　hasn't　noticed　it！〃　said　Mademoiselle　Roguin。



At　this　instant　Ginevra　abandoned　the　meditative　attitude　in　which　she

had　been　contemplating　her　canvas；　and　turned　her　head　toward　the

group　of　aristocrats。　She　measured；　at　a　glance；　the　distance　that　now

separated　her　from　them；　but　she　said　nothing。



〃It　hasn't　occurred　to　her　that　they　meant　to　insult　her；〃　said

Matilde；　〃she　neither　colored　nor　turned　pale。　How　vexed　these　girls

will　be　if　she　likes　her　new　place　as　well　as　the　old！　You　are　out　of

bounds；　mademoiselle；〃　she　added；　aloud；　addressing　Ginevra。



The　Italian　pretended　not　to　hear；　perhaps　she　really　did　not　hear。

She　rose　abruptly；　walked　with　a　certain　deliberation　along　the　side

of　the　partition　which　separated　the　adjoining　closet　from　the　studio；

and　seemed　to　be　examining　the　sash　through　which　her　light　came；

giving　so　much　importance　to　it　that　she　mounted　a　chair　to　raise　the

green　serge；　which　intercepted　the　light；　much　higher。　Reaching　that

height；　her　eye　was　on　a　level　with　a　slight　opening　in　the　partition；

the　real　object　of　her　efforts；　for　the　glance　that　she　cast　through

it　can　be　compared　only　to　that　of　a　miser　discovering　Aladdin's

treasure。　Then　she　sprang　down　hastily　and　returned　to　her　place；

changed　the　position　of　her　picture；　pretended　to　be　still

dissatisfied　with　the　light；　pushed　a　table　close　to　the　partition；　on

which　she　placed　a　chair；　climbed　lightly　to　the　summit　of　this

erection；　and　again　looked　through　the　crevice。　She　cast　but　one

glance　into　the　space　beyond；　which　was　lighted　through　a　skylight；

but　what　she　saw　produced　so　strong　an　effect　upon　her　that　she

tottered。



〃Take　care；　Mademoiselle　Ginevra；　you'll　fall！〃　cried　Laure。



All　the　young　girls　gazed　at　the　imprudent　climber；　and　the　fear　of

their　coming　to　her　gave　her　courage；　she　recovered　her　equilibrium；

and　replied；　as　she　balanced　herself　on　the　shaking　chair：



〃Pooh！　it　is　more　solid　than　a　throne！〃



She　then　secured　the　curtain　and　came　down；　pushed　the　chair　and　table

as　far　as　possible　from　the　partition；　returned　to　her　easel；　and

seemed　to　be　arranging　it　to　suit　the　volume　of　light　she　had　now

thrown　upon　it。　Her　picture；　however；　was　not　in　her　mind；　which　was

wholly　bent　on　getting　as　near　as　possible　to　the　closet；　against　the

door　of　which　she　finally　settled　herself。　Then　she　began　to　prepare

her　palette　in　the　deepest　silence。　Sitting　there；　she　could　hear；

distinctly；　a　sound　which　had　strongly　excited　her　curiosity　the

evening　before；　and　had　whirled　her　young　imagination　across　vast

fields　of　conjecture。　She　recognized　the　firm　and　regular　breathing　of

a　man　whom　she　had　just　seen　asleep。　Her　curiosity　was　satisfied

beyond　her　expectations；　but　at　the　same　time　she　felt　saddled　by　an

immense　responsibility。　Through　the　opening　in　the　wall　she　had　seen

the　Imperial　eagle；　and　upon　the　flock　bed；　faintly　lighted　from

above；　lay　the　form　of　an　officer　of　the　Guard。　She　guessed　all。

Servin　was　hiding　a　proscribed　man！



She　now　trembled　lest　any　of　her　companions　should　come　near　here　to

examine　her　picture；　when　the　regular　breathing　or　some　deeper　breath

might　reveal　to　them；　as　it　had　to　he