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A Daughter of Eve-Part15_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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"Are you ill?" said her husband, coming into her room to take her to

breakfast.



"I am dreadfully worried about a matter that is happening at my

sister's," she replied, without actually telling a lie.



"Your sister has fallen into bad hands," replied Felix. "It is a shame

for any family to have a du Tillet in it,--a man without honor of any



kind. If disaster happened to her she would get no pity from him."

"What woman wants pity?" said the countess, with a convulsive motion.



"A man's sternness is to us our only pardon."

"This is not the first time that I read your noble heart," said the



count. "A woman who thinks as you do needs no watching."

"Watching!" she said; "another shame that recoils on you."



Felix smiled, but Marie blushed. When women are secretly to blame they

often show ostensibly the utmost womanly pride. It is a dissimulation



of mind for which we ought to be obliged to them. The deception is

full of dignity, if not of grandeur. Marie wrote two lines to Nathan



under the name of Monsieur Quillet, to tell him that all went well,

and sent them by a street porter to the hotel du Mail. That night, at



the Opera, Felix thought it very natural that she should wish to leave

her box and go to that of her sister, and he waited till du Tillet had



left his wife to give Marie his arm and take her there. Who can tell

what emotions agitated her as she went through the corridors and



entered her sister's box with a face that was outwardly serene and

calm!



"Well?" she said, as soon as they were alone.

Eugenie's face was an answer; it was bright with a joy which some



persons might have attributed to the satisfaction of vanity.

"He can be saved, dear; but for three months only; during which time



we must plan some other means of doing it permanently. Madame de

Nucingen wants four notes of hand, each for ten thousand francs,



endorsed by any one, no matter who, so as not to compromise you. She

explained to me how they were made, but I couldn't understand her.



Monsieur Nathan, however, can make them for us. I thought of Schmucke,

our old master. I am sure he could be very useful in this emergency;



he will endorse the notes. You must add to the four notes a letter in

which you guarantee their payment to Madame de Nucingen, and she will



give you the money to-morrow. Do the whole thing yourself; don't trust

it to any one. I feel sure that Schmucke will make no objection. To



divert all suspicion I told Madame de Nucingen you wanted to oblige

our old music-master who was in distress, and I asked her to keep the



matter secret."

"You have the sense of angels! I only hope Madame de Nucingen won't



tell of it until after she gives me the money," said the countess.

"Schmucke lives in the rue de Nevers on the quai Conti; don't forget



the address, and go yourself."

"Thanks!" said the countess, pressing her sister's hand. "Ah! I'd give



ten years of life--"

"Out of your old age--"



"If I could put an end to these anxieties," said the countess, smiling

at the interruption.



The persons who were at that moment levelling their opera-glasses at

the two sisters might well have supposed them engaged in some light-



hearted talk; but any observer who had come to the Opera more for the

pleasure of watching faces than for mere idle amusement might have



guessed them in trouble, from the anxious look which followed the

momentary smiles on their charming faces. Raoul, who did not fear the



bailiffs at night, appeared, pale and ashy, with anxious eye and

gloomy brow, on the step of the staircase where he regularly took his



stand. He looked for the Countess in her box and, finding it empty,

buried his face in his hands, leaning his elbows on the balustrade.



"Can she be here!" he thought.

"Look up, unhappy hero," whispered Mme. du Tillet.



As for Marie, at all risks she fixed on him that steady magnetic gaze,

in which the will flashes from the eye, as rays of light from the sun.



Such a look, mesmerizers say, penetrates to the person on whom it is

directed, and certainly Raoul seemed as though struck by a magic wand.






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