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The Vicar of Tours-Part6_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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years nothing of the kind had occurred between Mademoiselle Gamard and

the venerable Abbe Chapeloud. As for himself, he might, no doubt, be



an arbitrator between the vicar and their landlady, because his

friendship for that person had never gone beyond the limits imposed by



the Church on her faithful servants; but if so, justice demanded that

he should hear both sides. He certainly saw no change in Mademoiselle



Gamard, who seemed to him the same as ever; he had always submitted to

a few of her caprices, knowing that the excellent woman was kindness



and gentleness itself; the slight fluctuations of her temper should be

attributed, he thought, to sufferings caused by a pulmonary affection,



of which she said little, resigning herself to bear them in a truly

Christian spirit." He ended by assuring the vicar that "if he stayed a



few years longer in Mademoiselle Gamard's house he would learn to

understand her better and acknowledge the real value of her excellent



nature."

Birotteau left the room confounded. In the direful necessity of



consulting no one, he now judged Mademoiselle Gamard as he would

himself, and the poor man fancied that if he left her house for a few



days he might extinguish, for want of fuel, the dislike the old maid

felt for him. He accordinglyresolved to spend, as he formerly did, a



week or so at a country-house where Madame de Listomere passed her

autumns, a season when the sky is usually pure and tender in Touraine.



Poor man! in so doing he did the thing that was most desired by his

terrible enemy, whose plans could only have been brought to nought by



the resistant patience of a monk. But the vicar, unable to divine

them, not understanding even his own affairs, was doomed to fall, like



a lamb, at the butcher's first blow.

Madame de Listomere's country-place, situated on the embankment which



lies between Tours and the heights of Saint-Georges, with a southern

exposure and surrounded by rocks, combined the charms of the country



with the pleasures of the town. It took but ten minutes from the

bridge of Tours to reach the house, which was called the "Alouette,"--



a great advantage in a region where no one will put himself out for

anything whatsoever, not even to seek a pleasure.



The Abbe Birotteau had been about ten days at the Alouette, when, one

morning while he was breakfasting, the porter came to say that



Monsieur Caron desired to speak with him. Monsieur Caron was

Mademoiselle Gamard's laywer, and had charge of her affairs.



Birotteau, not remembering this, and unable to think of any matter of

litigation between himself and others, left the table to see the



lawyer in a stage of great agitation. He found him modestly seated on

the balustrade of a terrace.



"Your intention of ceasing to reside in Mademoiselle Gamard's house

being made evident--" began the man of business.



"Eh! monsieur," cried the Abbe Birotteau, interrupting him, "I have

not the slightest intention of leaving it."



"Nevertheless, monsieur," replied the lawyer, "you must have had some

agreement in the matter with Mademoiselle, for she has sent me to ask



how long you intend to remain in the country. The event of a long

absence was not foreseen in the agreement, and may lead to a contest.



Now, Mademoiselle Gamard understanding that your board--"

"Monsieur," said Birotteau, amazed, and again interrupting the lawyer,



"I did not suppose it necessary to employ, as it were, legal means

to--"



"Mademoiselle Gamard, who is anxious to avoid all dispute," said

Monsieur Caron, "has sent me to come to an understanding with you."



"Well, if you will have the goodness to return to-morrow," said the

abbe, "I shall then have taken advice in the matter."



The quill-driver withdrew. The poor vicar, frightened at the

persistence with which Mademoiselle Gamard pursued him, returned to



the dining-room with his face so convulsed that everybody cried out

when they saw him: "What IS the matter, Monsieur Birotteau?"



The abbe, in despair, sat down without a word, so crushed was he by




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