ferragus-第14部分

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of　seven　or　eight　lustres　what　a　weapon　is　it　in　the　hands　of　young
women！　A　husband　gathers　with　delight　the　rewards　of　his　fidelity。

Returning　home　after　the　conversation　which　had　chilled　her　with　fear；
and　still　gave　her　the　keenest　anxiety；　Madame　Jules　took　particular
pains　with　her　toilet　for　the　night。　She　wanted　to　make　herself；　and
she　did　make　herself　enchanting。　She　belted　the　cambric　of　her
dressing…gown　round　her　waist；　defining　the　lines　of　her　bust；　she
allowed　her　hair　to　fall　upon　her　beautifully　modelled　shoulders。　A
perfumed　bath　had　given　her　a　delightful　fragrance；　and　her　little
bare　feet　were　in　velvet　slippers。　Strong　in　a　sense　of　her　advantages
she　came　in　stepping　softly；　and　put　her　hands　over　her　husband's
eyes。　She　thought　him　pensive；　he　was　standing　in　his　dressing…gown
before　the　fire；　his　elbow　on　the　mantel　and　one　foot　on　the　fender。
She　said　in　his　ear；　warming　it　with　her　breath；　and　nibbling　the　tip
of　it　with　her　teeth：

〃What　are　you　thinking　about；　monsieur？〃

Then　she　pressed　him　in　her　arms　as　if　to　tear　him　away　from　all　evil
thoughts。　The　woman　who　loves　has　a　full　knowledge　of　her　power；　the
more　virtuous　she　is；　the　more　effectual　her　coquetry。

〃About　you；〃　he　answered。

〃Only　about　me？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Ah！　that's　a　very　doubtful　'yes。'〃

They　went　to　bed。　As　she　fell　asleep；　Madame　Jules　said　to　herself：

〃Monsieur　de　Maulincour　will　certainly　cause　some　evil。　Jules'　mind　is
preoccupied；　disturbed；　he　is　nursing　thoughts　he　does　not　tell　me。〃

It　was　three　in　the　morning　when　Madame　Jules　was　awakened　by　a
presentiment　which　struck　her　heart　as　she　slept。　She　had　a　sense　both
physical　and　moral　of　her　husband's　absence。　She　did　not　feel　the　arm
Jules　passed　beneath　her　head；that　arm　in　which　she　had　slept；
peacefully　and　happy；　for　five　years；　an　arm　she　had　never　wearied。　A
voice　said　to　her；　〃Jules　suffers；　Jules　is　weeping。〃　She　raised　her
head；　and　then　sat　up；　felt　that　her　husband's　place　was　cold；　and　saw
him　sitting　before　the　fire；　his　feet　on　the　fender；　his　head　resting
against　the　back　of　an　arm…chair。　Tears　were　on　his　cheeks。　The　poor
woman　threw　herself　hastily　from　her　bed　and　sprang　at　a　bound　to　her
husband's　knees。

〃Jules！　what　is　it？　Are　you　ill？　Speak；　tell　me！　Speak　to　me；　if　you
love　me！〃　and　she　poured　out　a　hundred　words　expressing　the　deepest
tenderness。

Jules　knelt　at　her　feet；　kissed　her　hands　and　knees；　and　answered　with
fresh　tears：

〃Dear　Clemence；　I　am　most　unhappy！　It　is　not　loving　to　distrust　the
one　we　love。　I　adore　you　and　suspect　you。　The　words　that　man　said　to
me　to…night　have　struck　to　my　heart；　they　stay　there　in　spite　of
myself；　and　confound　me。　There　is　some　mystery　here。　In　short；　and　I
blush　to　say　it；　your　explanations　do　not　satisfy　me。　My　reason　casts
gleams　into　my　soul　which　my　love　rejects。　It　is　an　awful　combat。
Could　I　stay　there；　holding　your　head；　and　suspecting　thoughts　within
it　to　me　unknown？　Oh！　I　believe　in　you；　I　believe　in　you！〃　he　cried；
seeing　her　smile　sadly　and　open　her　mouth　as　if　to　speak。　〃Say
nothing；　do　not　reproach　me。　Besides；　could　you　say　anything　I　have
not　said　myself　for　the　last　three　hours？　Yes；　for　three　hours；　I　have
been　here；　watching　you　as　you　slept；　so　beautiful！　admiring　that
pure；　peaceful　brow。　Yes；　yes！　you　have　always　told　me　your　thoughts；
have　you　not？　I　alone　am　in　that　soul。　While　I　look　at　you；　while　my
eyes　can　plunge　into　yours　I　see　all　plainly。　Your　life　is　as　pure　as
your　glance　is　clear。　No；　there　is　no　secret　behind　those　transparent
eyes。〃　He　rose　and　kissed　their　lids。　〃Let　me　avow　to　you；　dearest
soul；〃　he　said；　〃that　for　the　last　five　years　each　day　has　increased
my　happiness；　through　the　knowledge　that　you　are　all　mine；　and　that　no
natural　affection　even　can　take　any　of　your　love。　Having　no　sister；　no
father；　no　mother；　no　companion；　I　am　neither　above　nor　below　any
living　being　in　your　heart；　I　am　alone　there。　Clemence；　repeat　to　me
those　sweet　things　of　the　spirit　you　have　so　often　said　to　me；　do　not
blame　me；　comfort　me；　I　am　so　unhappy。　I　have　an　odious　suspicion　on
my　conscience；　and　you　have　nothing　in　your　heart　to　sear　it。　My
beloved；　tell　me；　could　I　stay　there　beside　you？　Could　two　heads
united　as　ours　have　been　lie　on　the　same　pillow　when　one　was　suffering
and　the　other　tranquil？　What　are　you　thinking　of？〃　he　cried　abruptly；
observing　that　Clemence　was　anxious；　confused；　and　seemed　unable　to
restrain　her　tears。

〃I　am　thinking　of　my　mother；〃　she　answered；　in　a　grave　voice。　〃You
will　never　know；　Jules；　what　I　suffer　in　remembering　my　mother's　dying
farewell；　said　in　a　voice　sweeter　than　all　music；　and　in　feeling　the
solemn　touch　of　her　icy　hand　at　a　moment　when　you　overwhelm　me　with
those　assurances　of　your　precious　love。〃

She　raised　her　husband；　strained　him　to　her　with　a　nervous　force
greater　than　that　of　men；　and　kissed　his　hair；　covering　it　with　tears。

〃Ah！　I　would　be　hacked　in　pieces　for　you！　Tell　me　that　I　make　you
happy；　that　I　am　to　you　the　most　beautiful　of　womena　thousand　women
to　you。　Oh！　you　are　loved　as　no　other　man　ever　was　or　will　be。　I　don't
know　the　meaning　of　those　words　'duty；'　'virtue。'　Jules；　I　love　you
for　yourself；　I　am　happy　in　loving　you；　I　shall　love　you　more　and　more
to　my　dying　day。　I　have　pride　in　my　love；　I　feel　it　is　my　destiny　to
have　one　sole　emotion　in　my　life。　What　I　shall　tell　you　now　is
dreadful；　I　knowbut　I　am　glad　to　have　no　child；　I　do　not　wish　for
any。　I　feel　I　am　more　wife　than　mother。　Well；　then；　can　you　fear？
Listen　to　me；　my　own　beloved；　promise　to　forget；　not　this　hour　of
mingled　tenderness　and　doubt；　but　the　words　of　that　madman。　Jules；　you
/must/。　Promise　me　not　to　see　him；　not　to　go　to　him。　I　have　a　deep
conviction　that　if　you　set　one　foot　in　that　maze　we　shall　both　roll
down　a　precipice　where　I　shall　perishbut　with　your　name　upon　my
lips；　your　heart　in　my　heart。　Why　hold　me　so　high　in　that　heart　and
yet　so　low　in　reality？　What！　you　who　give　credit　to　so　many　as　to
money；　can　you　not　give　me　the　charity　of　faith？　And　on　the　first
occasion　in　our　lives　when　you　might　prove　to　me　your　boundless　trust；
do　you　cast　me　from　my　throne　in　your　heart？　Between　a　madman　and　me；
it　is　the　madman　whom　you　choose　to　believe？　oh；　Jules！〃　She　stopped；
threw　back　the　hair　that　fell　about　her　brow　and　neck；　and　then；　in　a
heart…rending　tone；　she　added：　〃I　have　said　too　much；　one　word　should
suffice。　If　your　soul　and　your　forehead　still　keep　this　cloud；　however
light　it　be；　I　tell　you　now　that　I　shall　die　of　it。〃

She　could　not　repress　a　shudder；　and　turned　pale。

〃Oh！　I　will　kill　that　man；〃　thought　Jules；　as　he　lifted　his　wife　in
his　arms　and　carried　her　to　her　bed。

〃Let　us　sleep　in　peace；　my　angel；〃　he　said。　〃I　have　forgotten　all；　I
swear　it！〃

Clemence　fell　asleep　to　the　music　of　those　sweet　words；　softly
repeated。　Jules；　as　he　watched　her　sleeping；　said　in　his　heart：

〃She　is　right；　when　love　is　so　pure；　suspicion　blights　it。　To　that
young　soul；　that　tender　flower；　a　blightyes；　a　blight　means　death。〃

When　a　cloud　comes　between　two　beings　filled　with　affection　for　each
other　and　whose　lives　are　in　absolute　unison；　that　cloud；　though　it
may　disperse；　leaves　in　those　souls　a　trace　of　its　passage。　Either
love　gains　a　stronger　life；　as　the　earth　after　rain；　or　the　shock
still　echoes　like　distant　thunder　through　a　cloudless　sky。　It　is
impossible　to　recover　absolutely　the　former　life；　love　will　either
increase　or　diminish。

At　breakfast；　Monsieur　and　Madame　Jules　showed　to　each　other　those
particular　attentions　in　which　there　is　always　something　of
affectation。　There　were　glances　of　forced　gaiety；　which　seemed　the
efforts　of　persons　endeavoring　to　deceive　themselves。　Jules　had
involuntary　doubts；　his　wife　had　positive　fears。　Still；　sure　of　each
other；　they　had　slept。　Was　this　strained　condition　the　effect　of　a
want　of　faith；　or　was　it　only　a　memory　of　their　nocturnal　scene？　They
did　not　know　themselves。　But　they　loved　each　other　so　purely　that　the
impression　of　that　scene；　both　cruel　and　beneficent；　could　not　fail　to
leave　its　traces　in　their　souls；　both　were　eager　to　make　those　traces
disappear；　each　striving　to　be　the　first　to　return　to　the　other；　and
thus　they　could　not　fail　to　think　of　the　cause　of　their　first
variance。　To　loving　souls；　this　is　not　grief；　pain　is　still　far…off；
but　it　is　a　sort　of　mourning；　which　is　difficult　to　depict。　If　there
are；　indeed；　relations　between　colors　and　the　emotions　of　the　soul；
if；　as　Locke's　blind　man　said；　scarlet　produces　on　the　sight　the
effect　produced　upon　the　hearing　by　a　blast　of　trumpets；　it　is
permissible　to　compare　this　reaction　of　melancholy　to　mourning　tones
of　gray。

But　even　so；　love　saddened；　love　in　which　remains　a　true　sentiment　of
its　happiness；　momentarily　troubled　though　it　be；　gives　enjoyments
derived　from　pain　and　pleasure　both；　which　are　all　novel。　Jules
studied　his　wife's　voice；　he　watched　her　glances　with　the　freshness　of
feeling　that　inspired　him　in　the　earliest　days　of　his　passion　for　her。
The　memory　of　five　absolutely　happy　years；　her　beauty；　the　candor　of
her　love；　quickly　effaced　in　her　husband's　mind　the　last