酷兔英语

章节正文

him and demanded to see his papers."

At that instant, the clocks of Carentan struck half-past nine; the
lanterns were lighted in Madame de Dey's antechamber; the servants

were helping their masters and mistresses to put on their clogs, their
cloaks, and their mantles; the card-players had paid their debts, and

all the guests were preparing to leave together after the established
customs of provincial towns.

"The prosecutor, it seems, has stayed behind," said a lady, perceiving
that that important personage was missing, when the company parted in

the large square to go to their several houses.
That terrible magistrate was, in fact, alone with the countess, who

waited, trembling, till it should please him to depart.
"Citoyenne," he said, after a long silence in which there was

something terrifying, "I am here to enforce the laws of the Republic."
Madame de Dey shuddered.

"Have you nothing to reveal to me?" he demanded.
"Nothing," she replied, astonished.

"Ah! madame," cried the prosecutor, changing his tone and seating
himself beside her, "at this moment, for want of a word between us,

you and I may be risking our heads on the scaffold. I have too long
observed your character, your soul, your manners, to share the error

into which you have persuaded your friends this evening. You are, I
cannot doubt, expecting your son."

The countess made a gesture of denial; but she had turned pale, the
muscles of her face contracted from the effort that she made to

exhibit firmness, and the implacable eye of the public prosecutor lost
none of her movements.

"Well, receive him," continued the functionary of the Revolution, "but
do not keep him under your roof later than seven o'clock in the

morning. To-morrow, at eight, I shall be at your door with a
denunciation."

She looked at him with a stupid air that might have made a tiger
pitiful.

"I will prove," he continued in a kindly voice, "the falsity of the
denunciation, by making a careful search of the premises; and the

nature of my report will protect you in future from all suspicions. I
will speak of your patriotic gifts, your civic virtues, and that will

save you."
Madame de Dey feared a trap, and she stood motionless; but her face

was on fire, and her tongue stiff in her mouth. A rap sounded on the
door.

"Oh!" cried the mother, falling on her knees, "save him! save him!"
"Yes, we will save him," said the official, giving her a look of

passion; "if it costs us our life, we will save him."
"I am lost!" she murmured, as the prosecutor raised her courteously.

"Madame," he said, with an oratorical movement, "I will owe you only--
to yourself."

"Madame, he has come," cried Brigitte, rushing in and thinking her
mistress was alone.

At sight of the public prosecutor, the old woman, flushed and joyous
as she was, became motionless and livid.

"Who has come?" asked the prosecutor.
"A recruit, whom the mayor has sent to lodge here," replied Brigitte,

showing the billet.
"True," said the prosecutor, reading the paper. "We expect a

detachment to-night."
And he went away.

The countess had too much need at this moment to believe in the
sincerity of her former attorney, to distrust his promise. She mounted

the stairs rapidly, though her strength seemed failing her; then she
opened the door, saw her son, and fell into his arms half dead,--

"Oh! my child! my child!" she cried, sobbing, and covering him with
kisses in a sort of frenzy.

"Madame!" said an unknown man.
"Ah! it is not he!" she cried, recoiling in terror, and standing erect

before the recruit, at whom she gazed with a haggard eye.
"Holy Father! what a likeness!" said Brigitte.

There was silence for a moment. The recruit himself shuddered at the
aspect of Madame de Dey.

"Ah! monsieur," she said, leaning on Brigitte's husband, who had
entered the room, and feeling to its fullest extent an agony the fear

of which had already nearly killed her. "Monsieur, I cannot stay with
you longer. Allow my people to attend upon you."

She returned to her own room, half carried by Brigitte and her old
servant.

"Oh! madame," said Brigitte, as she undressed her mistress, "must that
man sleep in Monsieur Auguste's bed, and put on Monsieur Auguste's

slippers, and eat the pate I made for Monsieur Auguste? They may
guillotine me if I--"

"Brigitte!" cried Madame de Dey.
Brigitte was mute.

"Hush!" said her husband in her ear, "do you want to kill madame?"
At that moment the recruit made a noise in the room above by sitting

down to his supper.
"I cannot stay here!" cried Madame de Dey. "I will go into the

greenhouse; there I can hear what happens outside during the night."
She still floated between the fear of having lost her son and the hope

of his suddenly appearing.
The night was horribly silent. There was one dreadful moment for the

countess, when the battalion of recruits passed through the town, and
went to their several billets. Every step, every sound, was a hope,--

and a lost hope. After that the stillness continued. Towards morning
the countess was obliged to return to her room. Brigitte, who watched

her movements, was uneasy when she did not reappear, and entering the
room she found her dead.

"She must have heard that recruit walking about Monsieur Auguste's
room, and singing their damned Marseillaise, as if he were in a

stable," cried Brigitte. "That was enough to kill her!"
The death of the countess had a far more solemn cause; it resulted, no

doubt, from an awful vision. At the exact hour when Madame de Dey died
at Carentan, her son was shot in the Morbihan. That tragic fact may be

added to many recorded observations on sympathies that are known to
ignore the laws of space: records which men of solitude are collecting

with far-seeing curiosity, and which will some day serve as the basis
of a new science for which, up to the present time, a man of genius

has been lacking.
End


文章标签:翻译  译文  翻译文  

章节正文