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Adieu-Part2_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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Monsieur d'Albon, hearing the rumbling of a carriage on the high-road



to Ile-Adam, waved his handkerchief and shouted to its occupants for

assistance. The carriage was immediately driven up to the old



monastery, and the marquis recognized his neighbors, Monsieur and

Madame de Granville, who at once gave up their carriage to the service



of the two gentlemen. Madame de Granville had with her, by chance, a

bottle of salts, which revived the colonel for a moment. When he



opened his eyes he turned them to the meadow, where the unknown woman

was still running and uttering her distressing cries. A smothered



exclamation escaped him, which seemed to express a sense of horror;

then he closed his eyes again, and made a gesture as if to implore his



friend to remove him from that sight.

Monsieur and Madame de Granville placed their carriage entirely at the



disposal of the marquis, assuring him courteously that they would like

to continue their way on foot.



"Who is that lady?" asked the marquis, signing toward the unknown

woman.



"I believe she comes from Moulins," replied Monsieur de Granville.

"She is the Comtesse de Vandieres, and they say she is mad; but as she



has only been here two months I will not vouch for the truth of these

hearsays."



Monsieur d'Albon thanked his friends, and placing the colonel in the

carriage, started with him for Cassan.



"It is she!" cried Philippe, recovering his senses.

"Who is she?" asked d'Albon.



"Stephanie. Ah, dead and living, living and mad! I fancied I was

dying."



The prudentmarquis, appreciating the gravity of the crisis through

which his friend was passing, was careful not to question or excite



him; he was only anxious to reach the chateau, for the change which

had taken place in the colonel's features, in fact in his whole



person, made him fear for his friend's reason. As soon, therefore, as

the carriage had reached the main street of Ile-Adam, he dispatched



the footman to the village doctor, so that the colonel was no sooner

fairly in his bed at the chateau than the physician was beside him.



"If monsieur had not been many hours without food the shock would have

killed him," said the doctor.



After naming the first precautions, the doctor left the room, to

prepare, himself, a calming potion. The next day, Monsieur de Sucy was



better, but the doctor still watched him carefully.

"I will admit to you, monsieur le marquis," he said, "that I have



feared some affection of the brain. Monsieur de Sucy has received a

violent shock; his passions are strong; but, in him, the first blow



decides all. To-morrow he may be entirely out of danger."

The doctor was not mistaken; and the following day he allowed the



marquis to see his friend.

"My dear d'Albon," said Philippe, pressing his hand, "I am going to



ask a kindness of you. Go to the Bons-Hommes, and find out all you can

of the lady we saw there; and return to me as quickly as you can; I



shall count the minutes."

Monsieur d'Albon mounted his horse at once, and galloped to the old



abbey. When he arrived there, he saw before the iron gate a tall,

spare man with a very kindly face, who answered in the affirmative



when asked if he lived there. Monsieur d'Albon then informed him of

the reasons for his visit.



"What! monsieur," said the other, "was it you who fired that fatal

shot? You very nearly killed my poor patient."



"But, monsieur, I fired in the air."

"You would have done the countess less harm had you fired at her."



"Then we must not reproach each other, monsieur, for the sight of the

countess has almost killed my friend, Monsieur de Sucy."



"Heavens! can you mean Baron Philippe de Sucy?" cried the doctor,

clasping his hands. "Did he go to Russia; was he at the passage of the



Beresina?"

"Yes," replied d'Albon, "he was captured by the Cossacks and kept for



five years in Siberia; he recovered his liberty a few months ago."

"Come in, monsieur," said the master of the house, leading the marquis



into a room on the lower floor where everything bore the marks of

capricious destruction. The silken curtains beside the windows were



torn, while those of muslin remained intact.




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