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The Two Brothers-Part37_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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"Yes; unfortunately there were men like him in the armies of the

Emperor; I sent seven to the shades at Cabrera," answered Gilet.



"I do hope, Max, that you won't pick a quarrel with that fellow," said

Mademoiselle Brazier.



"He smelt so of tobacco," complained the old man.

"He was smelling after your money-bags," said Flore, in a peremptory



tone. "My advice is that you don't let him into the house again."

"I'd prefer not to," replied Rouget.



"Monsieur," said Gritte, entering the room where the Hochon family

were all assembled after breakfast, "here is the Monsieur Bridau you



were talking about."

Philippe made his entrance politely, in the midst of a dead silence



caused by general curiosity. Madame Hochon shuddered from head to foot

as she beheld the author of all Agathe's woes and the murderer of good



old Madame Descoings. Adolphine also felt a shock of fear. Baruch and

Francois looked at each other in surprise. Old Hochon kept his self-



possession, and offered a seat to the son of Madame Bridau.

"I have come, monsieur," said Philippe, "to introduce myself to you; I



am forced to consider how I can manage to live here, for five years,

on sixty francs a month."



"It can be done," said the octogenarian.

Philippe talked about things in general, with perfect propriety. He



mentioned the journalist Lousteau, nephew of the old lady, as a "rara

avis," and won her good graces from the moment she heard him say that



the name of Lousteau would become celebrated. He did not hesitate to

admit his faults of conduct. To a friendly admonition which Madame



Hochon addressed to him in a low voice, he replied that he had

reflected deeply while in prison, and could promise that in future he



would live another life.

On a hint from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon went out with him when he



took his leave. When the miser and the soldier reached the boulevard

Baron, a place where no one could overhear them, the colonel turned to



the old man,--

"Monsieur," he said, "if you will be guided by me, we will never speak



together of matters and things, or people either, unless we are

walking in the open country, or in places where we cannot be heard.



Maitre Desroches has fully explained to me the influence of the gossip

of a little town. Therefore I don't wish you to be suspected of



advising me; though Desroches has told me to ask for your advice, and

I beg you not to be chary of giving it. We have a powerful enemy in



our front, and it won't do to neglect any precaution which may help to

defeat him. In the first place, therefore, excuse me if I do not call



upon you again. A little coldness between us will clear you of all

suspicion of influencing my conduct. When I want to consult you, I



will pass along the square at half-past nine, just as you are coming

out after breakfast. If you see me carry my cane on my shoulder, that



will mean that we must meet--accidentally--in some open space which

you will point out to me."



"I see you are a prudent man, bent on success," said old Hochon.

"I shall succeed, monsieur. First of all, give me the names of the



officers of the old army now living in Issoudun, who have not taken

sides with Maxence Gilet; I wish to make their acquaintance."



"Well, there's a captain of the artillery of the Guard, Monsieur

Mignonnet, a man about forty years of age, who was brought up at the



Ecole Polytechnique, and lives in a quiet way. He is a very honorable

man, and openly disapproves of Max, whose conduct he considers



unworthy of a true soldier."

"Good!" remarked the lieutenant-colonel.



"There are not many soldiers here of that stripe," resumed Monsieur

Hochon; "the only other that I know is an old cavalry captain."



"That is my arm," said Philippe. "Was he in the Guard?"

"Yes," replied Monsieur Hochon. "Carpentier was, in 1810, sergeant-



major in the dragoons; then he rose to be sub-lieutenant in the line,

and subsequently captain of cavalry."



"Giroudeau may know him," thought Philippe.

"This Monsieur Carpentier took the place in the mayor's office which



Gilet threw up; he is a friend of Monsieur Mignonnet."

"How can I earn my living here?"



"They are going, I think, to establish a mutual insurance agency in

Issoudun, for the department of the Cher; you might get a place in it,



but the pay won't be more than fifty francs a month at the outside."

"That will be enough."






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