The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖

quickly

into the carriage, which was then driven rapidly away. La Peyrade had

time to observe on his breast a perfect string of decorations. This,

combined with the powdered hair, was certain evidence of a diplomatic

individual.

 

La Peyrade had picked up his book once more, when a bell from the

inner room sounded, quickly followed by the appearance of the maid,

who invited him to follow her. The Provencal took care _not_ to

replace the volume where he found it, and an instant later he

entered the presence of the countess.

 

A pained expression was visible on the handsome face of the foreign

countess, who, however, lost nothing of her charm in the languor that

seemed to overcome her. On the sofa beside her was a manuscript

written on gilt-edged paper, in that large and opulent handwriting

which indicates an official communication from some ministerial office

or chancery. She held in her hand a crystal bottle with a gold

stopper, from which she frequently inhaled the contents, and a strong

odor of English vinegar pervaded the salon.

 

"I fear you are ill, madame," said la Peyrade, with interest.

 

"Oh! it is nothing," replied the countess; "only a headache, to which

I am very subject. But you, monsieur, what has become of you? I was

beginning to lose all hope of ever seeing you again. Have you come to

announce to me some great news? The period of your marriage with

Mademoiselle Colleville is probably so near that I think you can speak

of it."

 

This opening disconcerted la Peyrade.

 

"But, madame," he answered, in a tone that was almost tart, "you, it

seems to me, must know too well everything that goes on in the

Thuillier household not to be aware that the event you speak of is not

approaching, and, I may add, not probable."

 

"No, I assure you, I know nothing; I have strictly forbidden myself

from taking any further interest in an affair which I felt I had

meddled with very foolishly. Mademoiselle Brigitte and I talk of

everything except Celeste's marriage."

 

"And it is no doubt the desire to allow me perfect freedom in the

matter that induces you to take flight whenever I have the honor to

meet you in the Thuillier salon?"

 

"Yes," said the countess, "that ought to be the reason that makes me

leave the room; else, why should I be so distant?"

 

"Ah! madame, there are other reasons that might make a woman avoid a

man's presence. For instance, if he has displeased her; if the advice,

given to him with rare wisdom and kindness, was not received with

proper eagerness and gratitude."

 

"Oh, my dear monsieur," she replied, "I have no such ardor in

proselytizing that I am angry with those who are not docile to my

advice. I am, like others, very apt to make mistakes."

 

"On the contrary, madame, in the matter of my marriage your judgment

was perfectly correct."

 

"How so?" said the countess, eagerly. "Has the seizure of the

pamphlet, coming directly after the failure to obtain the cross, led

to a rupture?"

 

"No," said la Peyrade, "my influence in the Thuillier household rests

on a solid basis; the services I have rendered Mademoiselle Brigitte

and her brother outweigh these checks, which, after all, are not

irreparable."

 

"Do you really think so?" said the countess.

 

"Certainly," replied la Peyrade; "when the Comtesse du Bruel takes it

into her head to seriously obtain that bit of red ribbon, she can do

so, in spite of all obstacles that are put in her way."

 

The countess received this assertion with a smile, and shook her head.

 

"But, madame, only a day or two ago Madame du Bruel told Madame

Colleville that the unexpected opposition she had met with piqued her,

and that she meant to go in person to the minister."

 

"But you forget that since then this seizure has been made by the

police; it is not usual to decorate a man who is summoned before the

court of assizes. You seem not to notice that the seizure argues a

strong ill-will against Monsieur Thuillier, and, I may add, against

yourself, monsieur, for you are known to be the culprit. You have not,

I think, taken all this into account. The authorities appear to have

acted not wholly from legal causes."

 

La Peyrade looked at the countess.

 

"I must own," he said, after that rapid glance, "that I have tried in

vain to find any passage in that pamphlet which could be made a legal

pretext for the seizure."

 

"In my opinion," said the countess, "the king's servants must have a

vivid imagination to persuade themselves they were dealing with a

seditious publication. But that only proves the strength of the

underground power which is thwarting all your good intentions in favor

of Monsieur Thuillier."

 

"Madame," said la Peyrade, "do you know our secret enemies?"

 

"Perhaps I do," replied the countess, with another smile.

 

"May I dare to utter a suspicion, madame?" said la Peyrade, with some

agitation.

 

"Yes, say what you think," replied Madame de Godollo. "I shall not

blame you if you guess right."

 

"Well, madame, our enemies, Thuillier's and mine, are--a woman."

 

"Supposing that is so," said the countess; "do you know how many lines

Richelieu required from a man's hand in order to hang him?"

 

"Four," replied la Peyrade.

 

"You can imagine, then, that a pamphlet of two hundred pages might

afford a--slightly intriguing woman sufficient ground for

persecution."

 

"I see it all, madame, I understand it!" cried la Peyrade, with

animation. "I believe that woman to be one of the elite of her sex,

with as much mind and malice as Richelieu! Adorable magician! it is

she who has set in motion the police and the gendarmes; but, more than

that, it is she who withholds that cross the ministers were about to

give."

 

"If that be so," said the countess, "why struggle against her?"

 

"Ah! I struggle no longer," said la Peyrade. Then, with an assumed air

of contrition, he added, "You must, indeed, _hate_ me, madame."

 

"Not quite as much as you may think," replied the countess; "but,

after all, suppose that I do hate you?"

 

"Ah! madame," cried la Peyrade, ardently, "I should then be the

happiest of unhappy men; for that hatred would seem to me sweeter and

more precious than your indifference. But you do not hate me; why

should you feel to me that most blessed feminine sentiment which

Scribe has depicted with such delicacy and wit?"

 

Madame de Godollo did not answer immediately. She lowered her eyelids,

and the deeper breathing of her bosom gave to her voice when she did

speak a tremulous tone:--

 

"The hatred of a woman!" she said. "Is a man of your stoicism able to

perceive it?"

 

"Ah! yes, madame," replied la Peyrade, "I do indeed perceive it, but

not to revolt against it; on the contrary, I bless the harshness that

deigns to hurt me. Now that I know my beautiful and avowed enemy, I

shall not despair of touching her heart; for never again will I follow

any road but the one that she points out to me, never will I march

under any banner but hers. I shall wait--for her inspiration, to

think; for her will, to will; for her commands, to act. In all things

I will be her auxiliary,--more than that, her slave; and if she still

repulses me with that dainty foot, that snowy hand, I will bear it

resignedly, asking, in return for such obedience one only favor,--that

of kissing the foot that spurns me, of bathing with tears the hand

that threatens me."

 

During this long cry of the excited heart, which the joy of triumph

wrung from a nature so nervous and impressionable as that of the

Provencal, he had slidden from his chair, and now knelt with one knee

on the ground beside the countess, in the conventional attitude of the

stage, which is, however, much more common in real life than people

suppose.

 

"Rise, monsieur," said the countess, "and be so good as to answer me."

Then, giving him a questioning look from beneath her beautiful

frowning brows, she continued: "Have you well-weighed the outcome of

the words you have just uttered? Have you measured the full extent of

your pledge, and its depth? With your hand on your heart and on your

conscience, are you a man to fulfil those words? Or are you one of the

falsely humble and perfidious men who throw themselves at our feet

only to make us lose the balance of our will and our reason?"

 

"I!" exclaimed la Peyrade; "never can I react against the fascination

you have wielded over me from the moment of our first interview! Ah!

madame, the more I have resisted, the more I have struggled, the more

you ought to trust in my sincerity and its tardy expression. What I

have said, I think; that which I think aloud to-day I have thought in

my soul since the hour when I first had the honor of admittance to

you; and the many days I have passed in struggling against this

allurement have ended in giving me a firm and deliberate will, which

understands itself, and is not cast down by your severity."

 

"Severity?" said the countess; "possibly. But you ought to think of

the kindness too. Question yourself carefully. We foreign women do not

understand the careless ease with which a Frenchwoman enters upon a

solemn engagement. To us, our _yes_ is sacred; our word is a bond. We do

and we will nothing by halves. The arms of my family bear a motto

which seems significant under the present circumstances,--'All or

Nothing'; that is saying much, and yet, perhaps, not enough."

 

"That is how I understand my pledge," replied la Peyrade; "and on

leaving this room my first step will be to break with that ignoble

past which for an instant I seemed to hold in the balance against the

intoxicating future you do not forbid me to expect."

 

"No," said the countess, "do it calmly and advisedly; I do not like

rash conduct; you will not please me by taking open steps. These

Thuilliers are not really bad at heart; they humiliated you without

knowing that they did so; their world is not yours. Is that their

fault? Loosen the tie between you, but do not violently break it. And,

above all, reflect. Your conversion to my beliefs is of recent date.

What man is certain of what his heart will say to him to-morrow?"

 

"Madame," said la Peyrade, "I am that man. We men of Southern blood do

not love as you say a Frenchwoman loves."

 

"But," said the countess, with a charming smile, "I thought it was

hatred we were talking of."

 

"Ah, madame," cried the barrister, "explained and understood as it has

been, that word is still a thing that hurts me. Tell me rather, not

that you love me, but that the words you deigned to say to me at our

first interview were indeed the expression of your thoughts."

 

"My friend," said the countess, dwelling on the word; "one of your

moralists has said: 'There are persons who say, _that is_ or _that is

not_.' Do me the favor to count me among such persons."

 

So saying, she held out her hand to her suitor with a charming gesture

of modesty and grace. La Peyrade, quite beside himself, darted upon

that beautiful hand and devoured it with kisses.

 

"Enough, child!" said the countess, gently freeing her imprisoned

fingers; "adieu now, soon to meet again! Adieu! My headache, I think,

has disappeared."

 

La Peyrade picked up his hat, and seemed about to rush from the

apartment; but at the door he turned and cast upon the handsome

creature a look of tenderness. The countess made him, with her head, a

graceful gesture of adieu; then, seeing that la Peyrade was inclined

to return to her, she raised her forefinger as a warning to control

himself and go.

 

La Peyrade turned and left the apartment. 

CHAPTER VII (CHOW TO SHUT THE DOOR IN PEOPLE'S FACES)

On the staircase la Peyrade stopped to exhale, if we may so express

it, the happiness of which his heart was full. The words of the

countess, the ingenious preparation she had made to