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Domestic Peace-Part3_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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With these words the friends parted; General Montcornet made his way



to the cardroom, where he saw the Comte de Soulanges sitting at a

bouillotte table. Though there was no friendship between the two



soldiers, beyond the superficial comradeship arising from the perils

of war and the duties of the service, the Colonel of Cuirassiers was



painfully struck by seeing the Colonel of Artillery, whom he knew to

be a prudent man, playing at a game which might bring him to ruin. The



heaps of gold and notes piled on the fateful cards showed the frenzy

of play. A circle of silent men stood round the players at the table.



Now and then a few words were spoken--PASS, PLAY, I STOP, A THOUSAND

LOUIS, TAKEN--but, looking at the five motionless men, it seemed as



though they talked only with their eyes. As the Colonel, alarmed by

Soulanges' pallor, went up to him, the Count was winning. Field-



Marshal the Duc d'Isemberg, Keller, and a famous banker rose from the

table completely cleaned out of considerable sums. Soulanges looked



gloomier than ever as he swept up a quantity of gold and notes; he did

not even count it; his lips curled with bitter scorn, he seemed to



defy fortune rather than be grateful for her favors.

"Courage," said the Colonel. "Courage, Soulanges!" Then, believing he



would do him a service by dragging him from play, he added: "Come with

me. I have some good news for you, but on one condition."



"What is that?" asked Soulanges.

"That you will answer a question I will ask you."



The Comte de Soulanges rose abruptly, placing his winnings with

reckless indifference in his handkerchief, which he had been twisting



with convulsive nervousness, and his expression was so savage that

none of the players took exception to his walking off with their



money. Indeed, every face seemed to dilate with relief when his morose

and crabbed countenance was no longer to be seen under the circle of



light which a shaded lamp casts on a gaming-table.

"Those fiends of soldiers are always as thick as thieves at a fair!"



said a diplomate who had been looking on, as he took Soulanges' place.

One single pallid and fatigued face turned to the newcomer, and said



with a glance that flashed and died out like the sparkle of a diamond:

"When we say military men, we do not mean civil, Monsieur le



Ministre."

"My dear fellow," said Montcornet to Soulanges, leading him into a



corner, "the Emperor spoke warmly in your praise this morning, and

your promotion to be field-marshal is a certainty."



"The Master does not love the Artillery."

"No, but he adores the nobility, and you are an aristocrat. The Master



said," added Montcornet, "that the men who had married in Paris during

the campaign were not therefore to be considered in disgrace. Well



then?"

The Comte de Soulanges looked as if he understood nothing of this



speech.

"And now I hope," the Colonel went on, "that you will tell me if you



know a charming little woman who is sitting under a huge

candelabrum----"



At these words the Count's face lighted up; he violently" target="_blank" title="ad.强暴地；猛烈地">violently seized the

Colonel's hand: "My dear General," said he, in a perceptibly altered



voice, "if any man but you had asked me such a question, I would have

cracked his skull with this mass of gold. Leave me, I entreat you. I



feel more like blowing out my brains this evening, I assure you, than

----I hate everything I see. And, in fact, I am going. This gaiety,



this music, these stupid faces, all laughing, are killing me!"

"My poor friend!" replied Montcornet gently, and giving the Count's



hand a friendly pressure, "you are too vehement. What would you say if

I told you that Martial is thinking so little of Madame de Vaudremont



that he is quite smitten with that little lady?"

"If he says a word to her," cried Soulanges, stammering with rage, "I



will thrash him as flat as his own portfolio, even if the coxcomb were

in the Emperor's lap!"



And he sank quite overcome on an easy-chair to which Montcornet had

led him. The colonel slowly went away, for he perceived that Soulanges



was in a state of fury far too violent for the pleasantries or the

attentions of superficial friendship to soothe him.



When Montcornet returned to the ballroom, Madame de Vaudremont was the

first person on whom his eyes fell, and he observed on her face,






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