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CAPTAIN BURLE-Part1_Emile Zola(1840-1902)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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was slightly lame, but it would have been imprudent to tell him so,



as he refused to own it.

"What, you, Major?" said Mme Burle with growing astonishment.



"Yes, thunder," grumbled Laguitte, "and I must be confoundedly fond

of you to roam the streets on such a night as this. One would think



twice before sending even a parson out."

He shook himself, and little rivulets fell from his huge boots onto



the floor. Then he looked round him.

"I particularly want to see Burle. Is the lazy beggar already in



bed?"

"No, he is not in yet," said the old woman in her harsh voice.



The major looked furious, and, raising his voice, he shouted: "What,

not at home? But in that case they hoaxed me at the cafe, Melanie's



establishment, you know. I went there, and a maid grinned at me,

saying that the captain had gone home to bed. Curse the girl! I



suspected as much and felt like pulling her ears!"

After this outburst he became somewhat calmer, stamping about the



room in an undecided way, withalseeming greatly disturbed. Mme

Burle looked at him attentively.



"Is it the captain personally whom you want to see?" she said at

last.



"Yes," he answered.

"Can I not tell him what you have to say?"



"No."

She did not insist but remained standing without taking her eyes off



the major, who did not seem able to make up his mind to leave.

Finally in a fresh burst of rage he exclaimed with an oath: "It



can't be helped. As I am here yot may as well know--after all, it

is, perhaps, best."



He sat down before the chimney piece, stretching out his muddy boots

as if a bright fire had been burning. Mme Burle was about to resume



her own seat when she remarked that Charles, overcome by fatigue,

had dropped his head between the open pages of his dictionary. The



arrival of the major had at first interested him, but, seeing that

he remained unnoticed, he had been unable to struggle against his



sleepiness. His grandmother turned toward the table to slap his

frail little hands, whitening in the lamplight, when Laguitte



stopped her.

"No--no!" he said. "Let the poor little man sleep. I haven't got



anything funny to say. There's no need for him to hear me."

The old lady sat down in her armchair; deep silence reigned, and



they looked at one another.

"Well, yes," said the major at last, punctuating his words with an



angry motion of his chin, "he has been and done it; that hound Burle

has been and done it!"



Not a muscle of Mme Burle's face moved, but she became livid, and

her figure stiffened. Then the major continued: "I had my doubts.



I had intended mentioning the subject to you. Burle was spending

too much money, and he had an idiotic look which I did not fancy.



Thunder and lightning! What a fool a man must be to behave so

filthily!"



Then he thumped his knee furiously with his clenched fist and seemed

to choke with indignation. The old woman put the straightforward



question:

"He has stolen?"



"You can't have an idea of it. You see, I never examined his

accounts; I approved and signed them. You know how those things are



managed. However, just before the inspection--as the colonel is a

crotchety old maniac--I said to Burle: 'I say, old man, look to your



accounts; I am answerable, you know,' and then I felt perfectly

secure. Well, about a month ago, as he seemed queer and some nasty



stories were circulating, I peered a little closer into the books

and pottered over the entries. I thought everything looked straight



and very well kept--"

At this point he stopped, convulsed by such a fit of rage that he



had to relieve himself by a volley of appalling oaths. Finally he

resumed: "It isn't the swindle that angers me; it is his disgusting



behavior to me. He has gammoned me, Madame Burle. By God! Does he

take me for an old fool?"



"So he stole?" the mother again questioned.

"This evening," continued the major more quietly, "I had just



finished my dinner when Gagneux came in--you know Gagneux, the

butcher at the corner of the Place aux Herbes? Another dirty beast






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