the nabob-第52章
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er a porch。
The dull roll of the wheels over the wooden bridge told the poor Nabob； motionless and silent in a corner of his carriage； that they were almost there。 〃At last！〃 he said； looking through the clouded windows at the foaming waters of the Rhone； whose tempestuous rush seemed calm after what he had just suffered。 But at the end of the bridge； when the first carriage reached the great triumphal arch； rockets went off； drums beat； saluting the monarch as he entered the estates of his faithful subject。 To crown the irony； in the gathering darkness a gigantic flare of gas suddenly illuminated the roof of the castle； and in spite of the wind and the rain； these fiery letters could still be seen very plainly； 〃Long liv' th' B'Y 'HMED！〃
〃Thatthat is the wind…up；〃 said the poor Nabob； who could not help laughing； though it was a very piteous and bitter laugh。 But no； he was mistaken。 The end was the bouquet waiting at the castle door。 Amy Ferat came to present it； leaving the group of country maidens under the veranda； where they were trying to shelter the shining silks of their skirts and the embroidered velvets of their caps as they waited for the first carriage。 Her bunch of flowers in her hand； modest； her eyes downcast； but showing a roguish leg； the pretty actress sprang forward to the door in a low courtesy； almost on her knees； a pose she had worked at for a week。 Instead of the Bey； Jansoulet got out； stiff and troubled； and passed without even seeing her。 And as she stayed there； bouquet in hand； with the silly look of a stage fairy who has missed her cue； Cardailhac said to her with the ready chaff of the Parisian who is never at a loss： 〃Take away your flowers； my dear。 The Bey is not coming。 He had forgotten his handkerchief； and as it is only with that he speaks to ladies； you understand〃
Now it is night。 Everything is asleep at Saint…Romans after the tremendous uproar of the day。 Torrents of rain continue to fall； and in the park； where the triumphal arches and the Venetian masts still lift vaguely their soaking carcasses； one can hear streams rushing down the slopes transformed into waterfalls。 Everything streams or drips。 A noise of water； an immense noise of water。 Alone in his sumptuous room； with its lordly bed all hung with purple silks； the Nabob is still awake； turning over his own black thoughts as he strides to and fro。 It is not the affront； that public outrage before all these people； that occupies him； it is not even the gross insult the Bey had flung at him in the presence of his mortal enemies。 No； this southerner； whose sensations were all physical and as rapid as the firing of new guns； had already thrown off the venom of his rancour。 And then； court favourites； by famous examples； are always prepared for these sudden falls。 What terrifies him is that which he guesses to lie behind this affront。 He reflects that all his possessions are over there； firms； counting…houses； ships； all at the mercy of the Bey； in that lawless East； that country of the ruler's good…pleasure。 Pressing his burning brow to the streaming windows； his body in a cold sweat； his hands icy； he remains looking vaguely out into the night； as dark； as obscure as his own future。
Suddenly a noise of footsteps； of precipitate knocks at the door。
〃Who is there？〃
〃Sir；〃 said Noel； coming in half dressed； 〃it is a very urgent telegram that has been sent from the post…office by special messenger。〃
〃A telegram！ What can there be now？〃
He takes the envelope and opens it with shaking fingers。 The god； struck twice already； begins to feel himself vulnerable； to know the fears； the nervous weakness of other men。 Quickto the signature。 MORA！ Is it possible？ The dukethe duke to him！ Yes； it is indeed M…O…R…A。 And above it： 〃Popolasca is dead。 Election coming in Corsica。 You are official candidate。〃
Deputy！ It was salvation。 With that； nothing to fear。 No one dares treat a representative of the great French nation as a mere swindler。 The Hemerlingues were finely defeated。
〃Oh； my duke； my noble duke！〃
He was so full of emotion that he could not sign his name。 Suddenly： 〃Where is the man who brought this telegram？〃
〃Here； M。 Jansoulet；〃 replied a jolly south…country voice from the corridor。
He was lucky； that postman。
〃Come in；〃 said the Nabob。 And giving him the receipt； he took in a heap from his pocketsever fullas many gold pieces as his hands could hold； and threw them into the cap of the poor fellow； who stuttered； distracted and dazzled by the fortune showered upon him； in the night of this fairy palace。
A CORSICAN ELECTION
Pozzonegronear Sartene。
At last I can give you my news； dear M。 Joyeuse。 During the five days we have been in Corsica we have rushed about so much； made so many speeches； so often changed carriages and mountsnow on mules； now on asses； or even on the backs of men for crossing the torrentswritten so many letters； noted so many requests； visited so many schools； presented chasubles； altar…cloths； renewed cracked bells； and founded kindergartens； we have inaugurated so many things； proposed so many toasts； listened to so many harangues； consumed so much Talano wine and white cheese； that I have not found time to send even a greeting to the little family circle round the big table； from which I have been missing these two months。 Happily my absence will not be for much longer； as we expect to leave the day after to…morrow； and are coming straight back to Paris。 From the electioneering point of view； I think our journey has been a success。 Corsica is an admirable country； indolent and poor； a mixture of poverty and pride； which makes both the nobles and the middle classes strive to keep up an appearance of easy circumstances at the price of the most painful privations。 They speak quite seriously of Popolasca's fortunethat needy deputy whom death robbed of the four thousand pounds his resignation in favour of the Nabob would have brought him。 All these people have； as well； an administrative mania； a thirst for places which give them any sort of uniform； and a cap to wear with the words 〃Government official〃 written on it。 If you gave a Corsican peasant the choice between the richest farm in France and the shabbiest sword…belt of a village policeman； he would not hesitate and would take the belt。 In that conditions of things； you may imagine what chances of election a candidate has who can dispose of a personal fortune and the Government favours。 Thus； M。 Jansoulet will be elected； and especially if he succeeds in his present undertaking； which has brought us here to the only inn of a little place called Pozzonegro （black well）。 It is a regular well； black with foliage； consisting of fifty small red…stone houses clustered round a long Italian church； at the bottom of a ravine between rigid hills and coloured sandstone rocks； over which stretch immense forests of larch and juniper trees。 From my open window； at which I am writing； I see up above there a bit of blue sky； the orifice of the well； down below on the little squarewhich a huge nut…tree shades as though the shadows were not already thick enough two shepherds clothed in sheep…skins are playing at cards； with their elbows on the stone of a fountain。 Gambling is the bane of this land of idleness； where they get men from Lucca to do their harvesting。 The two poor wretches I see probably haven't a farthing between them； but one bets his knife against a cheese wrapped up in vine leaves； and the stakes lie between them on the bench。 A little priest smokes his cigar as he watches them； and seems to take the liveliest interest in their game。
And that is not all。 Not a sound anywhere except the drops of water on the stone； the oaths of one of the players who swears by the /sango del seminaro/； and from underneath my room in the inn parlour the eager voice of our friend mingling with the sputterings of the illustrious Paganetti； who is interpreter； in his conversation with the not less illustrious Piedigriggio。
M。 Piedigriggio （gray feet） is a local celebrity。 He is a tall； old man of seventy…five； with a flowing beard and a straight back。 He wears a little pilot coat； a brown wool Catalonian cap on his white locks。 At
