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The Two Brothers-Part21_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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a housekeeper who is not yoked?"

"If the defunct Rouget was Max's father, the affair is in the family."



"Liberty of opinion now-a-days!"

"Hurrah for Max!"



"Down with all hypocrites!"

"Here's a health to the beautiful Flore!"



Such were the eleven responses, acclamations, and toasts shouted forth

by the Knights of Idleness, and characteristic, we may remark, of



their excessively relaxed morality. It is now easy to see what

interest Max had in becoming their grand master. By leading the young



men of the best families in their follies and amusements, and by doing

them services, he meant to create a support for himself when the day



for recovering his position came. He rose gracefully and waved his

glass of claret, while all the others waited eagerly for the coming



allocution.

"As a mark of the ill-will I bear you, I wish you all a mistress who



is equal to the beautiful Flore! As to this irruption of relations, I

don't feel any present uneasiness; and as to the future, we'll see



what comes--"

"Don't let us forget Fario's cart!"



"Hang it! that's safe enough!" said Goddet.

"Oh! I'll engage to settle that business," cried Max. "Be in the



market-place early, all of you, and let me know when the old fellow

goes for his cart."



It was striking half-past three in the morning as the Knights slipped

out in silence to go to their homes; gliding close to the walls of the



houses without making the least noise, shod as they were in list

shoes. Max slowly returned to the place Saint-Jean, situated in the



upper part of the town, between the port Saint-Jean and the port

Vilatte, the quarter of the rich bourgeoisie. Maxence Gilet had



concealed his fears, but the news had struck home. His experience on

the hulks at Cabrera had taught him a dissimulation as deep and



thorough as his corruption. First, and above all else, the forty

thousand francs a year from landed property which old Rouget owned



was, let it be clearly understood, the constituent element of Max's

passion for Flore Brazier. By his present bearing it is easy to see



how much confidence the woman had given him in the financial future

she expected to obtain through the infatuation of the old bachelor.



Nevertheless, the news of the arrival of the legitimate heirs was of a

nature to shake Max's faith in Flore's influence. Rouget's savings,



accumulating during the last seventeen years, still stood in his own

name; and even if the will, which Flore declared had long been made in



her favor, were revoked, these savings at least might be secured by

putting them in the name of Mademoiselle Brazier.



"That fool of a girl never told me, in all these seven years, a word

about the sister and nephews!" cried Max, turning from the rue de la



Marmouse into the rue l'Avenier. "Seven hundred and fifty thousand

francs placed with different notaries at Bourges, and Vierzon, and



Chateauroux, can't be turned into money and put into the Funds in a

week, without everybody knowing it in this gossiping place! The most



important thing is to get rid of these relations; as soon as they are

driven away we ought to make haste to secure the property. I must



think it over."

Max was tired. By the help of a pass-key, he let himself into Pere



Rouget's house, and went to bed without making any noise, saying to

himself,--



"To-morrow, my thoughts will be clear."

It is now necessary to relate where the sultana of the place Saint-



Jean picked up the nickname of "Rabouilleuse," and how she came to be

the quasi-mistress of Jean-Jacques Rouget's home.



As old Doctor Rouget, the father of Jean-Jacques and Madame Bridau,

advanced in years, he began to perceive the nonentity of his son; he



then treated him harshly, trying to break him into a routine that

might serve in place of intelligence. He thus, though unconsciously,



prepared him to submit to the yoke of the first tyranny that threw its

halter over his head.



Coming home one day from his professional round, the malignant and

vicious old man came across a bewitching little girl at the edge of



some fields that lay along the avenue de Tivoli. Hearing the horse,

the child sprang up from the bottom of one of the many brooks which



are to be seen from the heights of Issoudun, threading the meadows

like ribbons of silver on a green robe. Naiad-like, she rose suddenly



on the doctor's vision, showing the loveliest virgin head that

painters ever dreamed of. Old Rouget, who knew the whole country-side,






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