ferragus-第12部分

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tear　upon　his　cheek；　and　went　away　to　thank　God　in　prayer。　The　dear
soul；　who　was　making　a　novena　for　Auguste's　safety；　believed　her
prayers　were　answered。

〃Well；〃　said　the　vidame；　〃now　you　had　better　show　yourself　at　the　ball
you　were　speaking　of。　I　oppose　no　further　objections。〃



CHAPTER　III

THE　WIFE　ACCUSED

Monsieur　de　Maulincour　was　all　the　more　anxious　to　go　to　this　ball
because　he　knew　that　Madame　Jules　would　be　present。　The　fete　was　given
by　the　Prefect　of　the　Seine；　in　whose　salons　the　two　social　worlds　of
Paris　met　as　on　neutral　ground。　Auguste　passed　through　the　rooms
without　finding　the　woman　who　now　exercised　so　mighty　an　influence　on
his　fate。　He　entered　an　empty　boudoir　where　card…tables　were　placed
awaiting　players；　and　sitting　down　on　a　divan　he　gave　himself　up　to
the　most　contradictory　thoughts　about　her。　A　man　presently　took　the
young　officer　by　the　arm；　and　looking　up　the　baron　was　stupefied　to
behold　the　pauper　of　the　rue　Coquilliere；　the　Ferragus　of　Ida；　the
lodger　in　the　rue　Soly；　the　Bourignard　of　Justin；　the　convict　of　the
police；　and　the　dead　man　of　the　day　before。

〃Monsieur；　not　a　sound；　not　a　word；〃　said　Bourignard；　whose　voice　he
recognized。　The　man　was　elegantly　dressed；　he　wore　the　order　of　the
Golden…Fleece；　and　a　medal　on　his　coat。　〃Monsieur；〃　he　continued；　and
his　voice　was　sibilant　like　that　of　a　hyena；　〃you　increase　my　efforts
against　you　by　having　recourse　to　the　police。　You　will　perish；
monsieur；　it　has　now　become　necessary。　Do　you　love　Madame　Jules？　Are
you　beloved　by　her？　By　what　right　do　you　trouble　her　peaceful　life；
and　blacken　her　virtue？〃

Some　one　entered　the　card…room。　Ferragus　rose　to　go。

〃Do　you　know　this　man？〃　asked　Monsieur　de　Maulincour　of　the　new…comer；
seizing　Ferragus　by　the　collar。　But　Ferragus　quickly　disengaged
himself；　took　Monsieur　de　Maulincour　by　the　hair；　and　shook　his　head
rapidly。

〃Must　you　have　lead　in　it　to　make　it　steady？〃　he　said。

〃I　do　not　know　him　personally；〃　replied　Henri　de　Marsay；　the　spectator
of　this　scene；　〃but　I　know　that　he　is　Monsieur　de　Funcal；　a　rich
Portuguese。〃

Monsieur　de　Funcal　had　disappeared。　The　baron　followed　but　without
being　able　to　overtake　him　until　he　reached　the　peristyle；　where　he
saw　Ferragus；　who　looked　at　him　with　a　jeering　laugh　from　a　brilliant
equipage　which　was　driven　away　at　high　speed。

〃Monsieur；〃　said　Auguste；　re…entering　the　salon　and　addressing　de
Marsay；　whom　he　knew；　〃I　entreat　you　to　tell　me　where　Monsieur　de
Funcal　lives。〃

〃I　do　not　know；　but　some　one　here　can　no　doubt　tell　you。〃

The　baron；　having　questioned　the　prefect；　ascertained　that　the　Comte
de　Funcal　lived　at　the　Portuguese　embassy。　At　this　moment；　while　he
still　felt　the　icy　fingers　of　that　strange　man　in　his　hair；　he　saw
Madame　Jules　in　all　her　dazzling　beauty；　fresh；　gracious；　artless；
resplendent　with　the　sanctity　of　womanhood　which　had　won　his　love。
This　creature；　now　infernal　to　him；　excited　no　emotion　in　his　soul　but
that　of　hatred；　and　this　hatred　shone　in　a　savage；　terrible　look　from
his　eyes。　He　watched　for　a　moment　when　he　could　speak　to　her　unheard；
and　then　he　said：

〃Madame；　your　/bravi/　have　missed　me　three　times。〃

〃What　do　you　mean；　monsieur？〃　she　said；　flushing。　〃I　know　that　you
have　had　several　unfortunate　accidents　lately；　which　I　have　greatly
regretted；　but　how　could　I　have　had　anything　to　do　with　them？〃

〃You　knew　that　/bravi/　were　employed　against　me　by　that　man　of　the　rue
Soly？〃

〃Monsieur！〃

〃Madame；　I　now　call　you　to　account；　not　for　my　happiness　only；　but　for
my　blood〃

At　this　instant　Jules　Desmarets　approached　them。

〃What　are　you　saying　to　my　wife；　monsieur？〃

〃Make　that　inquiry　at　my　own　house；　monsieur；　if　you　are　curious；〃
said　Maulincour；　moving　away；　and　leaving　Madame　Jules　in　an　almost
fainting　condition。

There　are　few　women　who　have　not　found　themselves；　once　at　least　in
their　lives；　/a　propos/　of　some　undeniable　fact；　confronted　with　a
direct；　sharp；　uncompromising　question；one　of　those　questions
pitilessly　asked　by　husbands；　the　mere　apprehension　of　which　gives　a
chill；　while　the　actual　words　enter　the　heart　like　the　blade　of　a
dagger。　It　is　from　such　crises　that　the　maxim　has　come；　〃All　women
lie。〃　Falsehood；　kindly　falsehood；　venial　falsehood；　sublime
falsehood；　horrible　falsehood；but　always　the　necessity　to　lie。　This
necessity　admitted；　ought　they　not　to　know　how　to　lie　well？　French
women　do　it　admirably。　Our　manners　and　customs　teach　them　deception！
Besides；　women　are　so　naively　saucy；　so　pretty；　graceful；　and　withal
so　true　in　lying；they　recognize　so　fully　the　utility　of　doing　so　in
order　to　avoid　in　social　life　the　violent　shocks　which　happiness　might
not　resist；that　lying　is　seen　to　be　as　necessary　to　their　lives　as
the　cotton…wool　in　which　they　put　away　their　jewels。　Falsehood　becomes
to　them　the　foundation　of　speech；　truth　is　exceptional；　they　tell　it；
if　they　are　virtuous；　by　caprice　or　by　calculation。　According　to
individual　character；　some　women　laugh　when　they　lie；　others　weep；
others　are　grave；　some　grow　angry。　After　beginning　life　by　feigning
indifference　to　the　homage　that　deeply　flatters　them；　they　often　end
by　lying　to　themselves。　Who　has　not　admired　their　apparent　superiority
to　everything　at　the　very　moment　when　they　are　trembling　for　the
secret　treasures　of　their　love？　Who　has　never　studied　their　ease；
their　readiness；　their　freedom　of　mind　in　the　greatest　embarrassments
of　life？　In　them；　nothing　is　put　on。　Deception　comes　as　the　snow　from
heaven。　And　then；　with　what　art　they　discover　the　truth　in　others！
With　what　shrewdness　they　employ　a　direct　logic　in　answer　to　some
passionate　question　which　has　revealed　to　them　the　secret　of　the　heart
of　a　man　who　was　guileless　enough　to　proceed　by　questioning！　To
question　a　woman！　why；　that　is　delivering　one's　self　up　to　her；　does
she　not　learn　in　that　way　all　that　we　seek　to　hide　from　her？　Does　she
not　know　also　how　to　be　dumb；　through　speaking？　What　men　are　daring
enough　to　struggle　with　the　Parisian　woman？a　woman　who　knows　how　to
hold　herself　above　all　dagger　thrusts；　saying：　〃You　are　very
inquisitive；　what　is　it　to　you？　Why　do　you　wish　to　know？　Ah！　you　are
jealous！　And　suppose　I　do　not　choose　to　answer　you？〃in　short；　a
woman　who　possesses　the　hundred　and　thirty…seven　methods　of　saying
/No/；　and　incommensurable　variations　of　the　word　/Yes/。　Is　not　a
treatise　on　the　words　/yes/　and　/no/；　a　fine　diplomatic；　philosophic；
logographic；　and　moral　work；　still　waiting　to　be　written？　But　to
accomplish　this　work；　which　we　may　also　call　diabolic；　isn't　an
androgynous　genius　necessary？　For　that　reason；　probably；　it　will　never
be　attempted。　And　besides；　of　all　unpublished　works　isn't　it　the　best
known　and　the　best　practised　among　women？　Have　you　studied　the
behavior；　the　pose；　the　/disinvoltura/　of　a　falsehood？　Examine　it。

Madame　Desmarets　was　seated　in　the　right…hand　corner　of　her　carriage；
her　husband　in　the　left。　Having　forced　herself　to　recover　from　her
emotion　in　the　ballroom；　she　now　affected　a　calm　demeanor。　Her　husband
had　then　said　nothing　to　her；　and　he　still　said　nothing。　Jules　looked
out　of　the　carriage　window　at　the　black　walls　of　the　silent　houses
before　which　they　passed；　but　suddenly；　as　if　driven　by　a　determining
thought；　when　turning　the　corner　of　a　street　he　examined　his　wife；　who
appeared　to　be　cold　in　spite　of　the　fur…lined　pelisse　in　which　she　was
wrapped。　He　thought　she　seemed　pensive；　and　perhaps　she　really　was　so。
Of　all　communicable　things；　reflection　and　gravity　are　the　most
contagious。

〃What　could　Monsieur　de　Maulincour　have　said　to　affect　you　so　keenly？〃
said　Jules；　〃and　why　does　he　wish　me　to　go　to　his　house　and　find　out？〃

〃He　can　tell　you　nothing　in　his　house　that　I　cannot　tell　you　here；〃
she　replied。

Then；　with　that　feminine　craft　which　always　slightly　degrades　virtue；
Madame　Jules　waited　for　another　question。　Her　husband　turned　his　face
back　to　the　houses；　and　continued　his　study　of　their　walls。　Another
question　would　imply　suspicion；　distrust。　To　suspect　a　woman　is　a
crime　in　love。　Jules　had　already　killed　a　man　for　doubting　his　wife。
Clemence　did　not　know　all　there　was　of　true　passion；　of　loyal
reflection；　in　her　husband's　silence；　just　as　Jules　was　ignorant　of
the　generous　drama　that　was　wringing　the　heart　of　his　Clemence。

The　carriage　rolled　on　through　a　silent　Paris；　bearing　the　couple；
two　lovers　who　adored　each　other；　and　who；　gently　leaning　on　the　same
silken　cushion；　were　being　parted　by　an　abyss。　In　these　elegant　coupes
returning　from　a　ball　between　midnight　and　two　in　the　morning；　how
many　curious　and　singular　scenes　must　pass；meaning　those　coupes　with
lanterns；　which　light　both　the　street　and　the　carriage；　those　with
their　windows　unshaded；　in　short；　legitimate　coupes；　in　which　couples
can　quarrel　without　caring　for　the　eyes　of　pedestrians；　because　the
civil　code　gives　a　right　to　provoke；　or　beat；　or　kiss；　a　wife　in　a
carriage　or　elsewhere；　anywhere；　everywhere！　How　many　secrets　must　be
revealed　in　this　way　to　nocturnal　pedestrians；to　those　young　fellows
who　have　gone　to　a　ball　in　a　carriage；　but　are　obliged；　for　whatever
cause　it　may　be；　to　retu