letters of two brides-第39章

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hate　that　mare！　Fool　that　I　was　to　keep　horses！　But　the　next　thing
would　have　been　to　lame　Gaston　or　imprison　him　in　the　cottage。　Wild
thoughts　like　these　filled　my　brain；　you　see　how　near　I　was　to
madness！　If　love　be　not　the　cage；　what　power　on　earth　can　hold　back
the　man　who　wants　to　be　free？

I　asked　him　point…blank；　〃Do　I　bore　you？〃

〃What　needless　torture　you　give　yourself！〃　was　his　reply；　while　he
looked　at　me　with　tender；　pitying　eyes。　〃Never　have　I　loved　you　so
deeply。〃

〃If　that　is　true；　my　beloved；　let　me　sell　Fedelta；〃　I　answered。

〃Sell　her；　by　all　means！〃

The　reply　crushed　me。　Was　it　not　a　covert　taunt　at　my　wealth　and　his
own　nothingness　in　the　house？　This　may　never　have　occurred　to　him；　but
I　thought　it　had；　and　once　more　I　left　him。　It　was　night；　and　I　would
go　to　bed。

Oh！　Renee；　to　be　alone　with　a　harrowing　thought　drives　one　to　thoughts
of　death。　These　charming　gardens；　the　starry　night；　the　cool　air；
laden　with　incense　from　our　wealth　of　flowers；　our　valley；　our　hills
all　seemed　to　me　gloomy；　black；　and　desolate。　It　was　as　though　I　lay
at　the　foot　of　a　precipice；　surrounded　by　serpents　and　poisonous
plants；　and　saw　no　God　in　the　sky。　Such　a　night　ages　a　woman。

Next　morning　I　said：

〃Take　Fedelta　and　be　off　to　Paris！　Don't　sell　her；　I　love　her。　Does
she　not　carry　you？〃

But　he　was　not　deceived；　my　tone　betrayed　the　storm　of　feeling　which　I
strove　to　conceal。

〃Trust　me！〃　he　replied；　and　the　gesture　with　which　he　held　out　his
hand；　the　glance　of　his　eye；　were　so　full　of　loyalty　that　I　was
overcome。

〃What　petty　creatures　women　are！〃　I　exclaimed。

〃No；　you　love　me；　that　is　all；〃　he　said；　pressing　me　to　his　heart。

〃Go　to　Paris　without　me；〃　I　said；　and　this　time　I　made　him　understand
that　my　suspicions　were　laid　aside。

He　went；　I　thought　he　would　have　stayed。　I　won't　attempt　to　tell　you
what　I　suffered。　I　found　a　second　self　within；　quite　strange　to　me。　A
crisis　like　this　has；　for　the　woman　who　loves；　a　tragic　solemnity　that
baffles　words；　the　whole　of　life　rises　before　you　then；　and　you　search
in　vain　for　any　horizon　to　it；　the　veriest　trifle　is　big　with　meaning；
a　glance　contains　a　volume；　icicles　drift　on　uttered　words；　and　the
death　sentence　is　read　in　a　movement　of　the　lips。

I　thought　he　would　have　paid　me　back　in　kind；　had　I　not　been
magnanimous？　I　climbed　to　the　top　of　the　chalet；　and　my　eyes　followed
him　on　the　road。　Ah！　my　dear　Renee；　he　vanished　from　my　sight　with　an
appalling　swiftness。

〃How　keen　he　is　to　go！〃　was　the　thought　that　sprang　of　itself。

Once　more　alone；　I　fell　back　into　the　hell　of　possibilities；　the
maelstrom　of　mistrust。　There　were　moments　when　I　would　have　welcomed
any　certainty；　even　the　worst；　as　a　relief　from　the　torture　of
suspense。　Suspense　is　a　duel　carried　on　in　the　heart；　and　we　give　no
quarter　to　ourselves。

I　paced　up　and　down　the　walks。　I　returned　to　the　house；　only　to　tear
out　again；　like　a　mad　woman。　Gaston；　who　left　at　seven　o'clock；　did
not　return　till　eleven。　Now；　as　it　only　takes　half　an　hour　to　reach
Paris　through　the　park　of　St。　Cloud　and　the　Bois　de　Boulogne；　it　is
plain　that　he　must　have　spent　three　hours　in　town。　He　came　back
radiant；　with　a　whip　in　his　hand　for　me；　an　india…rubber　whip　with　a
gold　handle。

For　a　fortnight　I　had　been　without　a　whip；　my　old　one　being　worn　and
broken。

〃Was　it　for　this　you　tortured　me？〃　I　said；　as　I　admired　the
workmanship　of　this　beautiful　ornament；　which　contains　a　little　scent…
box　at　one　end。

Then　it　flashed　on　me　that　the　present　was　a　fresh　artifice。
Nevertheless　I　threw　myself　at　once　on　his　neck；　not　without
reproaching　him　gently　for　having　caused　me　so　much　pain　for　the　sake
of　a　trifle。　He　was　greatly　pleased　with　his　ingenuity；　his　eyes　and
his　whole　bearing　plainly　showed　the　restrained　triumph　of　the
successful　plotter；　for　there　is　a　radiance　of　the　soul　which　is
reflected　in　every　feature　and　turn　of　the　body。　While　still　examining
the　beauties　of　this　work　of　art；　I　asked　him　at　a　moment　when　we
happened　to　be　looking　each　other　in　the　face：

〃Who　is　the　artist？〃

〃A　friend　of　mine。〃

〃Ah！　I　see　it　has　been　mounted　by　Verdier；〃　and　I　read　the　name　of　the
shop　printed　on　the　handle。

Gaston　is　nothing　but　a　child　yet。　He　blushed；　and　I　made　much　of　him
as　a　reward　for　the　shame　he　felt　in　deceiving　me。　I　pretended　to
notice　nothing；　and　he　may　well　have　thought　the　incident　was　over。

May　25th。

The　next　morning　I　was　in　my　riding…habit　by　six　o'clock；　and　by　seven
landed　at　Verdier's；　where　several　whips　of　the　same　pattern　were
shown　to　me。　One　of　the　men　serving　recognized　mine　when　I　pointed　it
out　to　him。

〃We　sold　that　yesterday　to　a　young　gentleman；〃　he　said。　And　from　the
description　I　gave　him　of　my　traitor　Gaston；　not　a　doubt　was　left　of
his　identity。　I　will　spare　you　the　palpitations　which　rent　my　heart
during　that　journey　to　Paris　and　the　little　scene　there；　which　marked
the　turning…point　of　my　life。

By　half…seven　I　was　home　again；　and　Gaston　found　me；　fresh　and
blooming；　in　my　morning　dress；　sauntering　about　with　a　make…believe
nonchalance。　I　felt　confident　that　old　Philippe；　who　had　been　taken
into　my　confidence；　would　not　have　betrayed　my　absence。

〃Gaston；〃　I　said；　as　we　walked　by　the　side　of　the　lake；　〃you　cannot
blind　me　to　the　difference　between　a　work　of　art　inspired　by
friendship　and　something　which　has　been　cast　in　a　mould。〃

He　turned　white；　and　fixed　his　eyes　on　me　rather　than　on　the　damaging
piece　of　evidence　I　thrust　before　them。

〃My　dear；〃　I　went　on；　〃this　is　not　a　whip；　it　is　a　screen　behind　which
you　are　hiding　something　from　me。〃

Thereupon　I　gave　myself　the　gratification　of　watching　his　hopeless
entanglement　in　the　coverts　and　labyrinths　of　deceit　and　the　desperate
efforts　he　made　to　find　some　wall　he　might　scale　and　thus　escape。　In
vain；　he　had　perforce　to　remain　upon　the　field；　face　to　face　with　an
adversary；　who　at　last　laid　down　her　arms　in　a　feigned　complacence。
But　it　was　too　late。　The　fatal　mistake；　against　which　my　mother　had
tried　to　warm　me；　was　made。　My　jealousy；　exposed　in　all　its　nakedness；
had　led　to　war　and　all　its　stratagems　between　Gaston　and　myself。
Jealousy；　dear；　has　neither　sense　nor　decency。

I　made　up　my　mind　now　to　suffer　in　silence；　but　to　keep　my　eyes　open；
until　my　doubts　were　resolved　one　way　or　another。　Then　I　would　either
break　with　Gaston　or　bow　to　my　misfortune：　no　middle　course　is
possible　for　a　woman　who　respects　herself。

What　can　he　be　concealing？　For　a　secret　there　is；　and　the　secret　has
to　do　with　a　woman。　Is　it　some　youthful　escapade　for　which　he　still
blushes？　But　if　so；　what？　The　word　/what/　is　written　in　letters　of
fire　on　all　I　see。　I　read　it　in　the　glassy　water　of　my　lake；　in　the
shrubbery；　in　the　clouds；　on　the　ceilings；　at　table；　in　the　flowers　of
the　carpets。　A　voice　cries　to　me　/what？/　in　my　sleep。　Dating　from　the
morning　of　my　discovery；　a　cruel　interest　has　sprung　into　our　lives；
and　I　have　become　familiar　with　the　bitterest　thought　that　can　corrode
the　heartthe　thought　of　treachery　in　him　one　loves。　Oh！　my　dear；
there　is　heaven　and　hell　together　in　such　a　life。　Never　had　I　felt
this　scorching　flame；　I　to　whom　love　had　appeared　only　in　the　form　of
devoutest　worship。

〃So　you　wished　to　know　the　gloomy　torture…chamber　of　pain！〃　I　said　to
myself。　Good；　the　spirits　of　evil　have　heard　your　prayer；　go　on　your
road；　unhappy　wretch！

May　30th。

Since　that　fatal　day　Gaston　no　longer　works　with　the　careless　ease　of
the　wealthy　artist；　whose　work　is　merely　pastime；　he　sets　himself
tasks　like　a　professional　writer。　Four　hours　a　day　he　devotes　to
finishing　his　two　plays。

〃He　wants　money！〃

A　voice　within　whispered　the　thought。　But　why？　He　spends　next　to
nothing；　we　have　absolutely　no　secrets　from　each　other；　there　is　not　a
corner　of　his　study　which　my　eyes　and　my　fingers　may　not　explore。　His
yearly　expenditure　does　not　amount　to　two　thousand　francs；　and　I　know
that　he　has　thirty　thousand；　I　can　hardly　say　laid　by；　but　scattered
loose　in　a　drawer。　You　can　guess　what　is　coming。　At　midnight；　while　he
was　sleeping；　I　went　to　see　if　the　money　was　still　there。　An　icy
shiver　ran　through　me。　The　drawer　was　empty。

That　same　week　I　discovered　that　he　went　to　Sevres　to　fetch　his
letters；　and　these　letters　he　must　tear　up　immediately；　for　though　I
am　a　very　Figaro　in　contrivances；　I　have　never　yet　seen　a　trace　of
one。　Alas！　my　sweet；　despite　the　fine　promises　and　vows　by　which　I
bound　myself　after　the　scene　of　the　whip；　an　impulse；　which　I　can　only
call　madness；　drove　me　to　follow　him　in　one　of　his　rapid　rides　to　the
post…office。　Gaston　was　appalled　to　be　thus　discovered　on　horseback；
paying　the　postage　of　a　letter　which　he　held　in　his　hand。　He　looked
fixedly　at　me；　and　then　put　spurs　to　Fedelta。　The　pace　was　so　hard
that　I　felt　shaken　to　bits　when　I　reached　the　lodge　gate；　though　my
mental　agony　was　such　at　the　time　that　it　might　well　have　dulled　all
consciousness　of　bodily　pain。　Arrived　at　the　gate；　Gaston　said
nothing；　he　rang　the　bell　and　waited　without　a　word。　I　was　more　dead
than　alive。　I　might　be　mistaken　or　I　might　not；　but　in　neither　case
was　it　fitting　for　Armande…Louise…Marie　de　Chaulieu　to　play　the　spy。　I
had　sunk　to　the　level　of　the　gutter；　by　the　side　of　courtesans；　opera…
dancers；　mere　creatures　of　instinct；　even　the　vulgar　shop…girl　or
humble　seamstress　might　look　down　on　me。

What　a　moment！　At　last　the　door　opened；　he　handed　his　horse　to　the
groom；　and　I　also　dismounted；　but　into　his　arms；　which　were　stretched
out　to　receive　me。　I　threw　my　skirt　over　my　left　arm；　gave　him　my
right；　and　we　walked　onstill　in　silence。　The　few　steps　we　thus　took
might　be　reckoned　to　me　for　a　hundred　years　of　purgatory。　A　swarm　of
thoughts　beset　me　as　I　walked；　now　seeming　to　take　visible　form　in
tongues　of　fire　before　my　eyes；　now　assailing　my　mind；　each　with　its
own　poisoned　dart。　When　the　groom　and　the　horses　were　far　away；　I
stopped　Gaston；　and；　looking　him　in　the　face；　said；　as　I　pointed；　with
a　gesture　that　you　should　have　seen；　to　the　fatal　letter　still　in　his
right　hand：

〃May　I　read　it？〃

He　gave　it　to　me。　I　opened　it　and　found　a　letter　from　Nathan；　the
dramatic　author；　informing　Gaston　that　a　play　of　his　had　been
accepted；　learned；　rehearsed；　and　would　be　produced　the　following
Saturday。　He　also　enclosed　a　box　ticket。

Though　for　me　this　was　the　opening　of　heaven's　gates　to　the　martyr；
yet　the　fiend　would　not　leave　me　in　peace；　but　kept　crying；　〃Where　are
the　thirty　thousand　francs？〃　It　was　a　question　which　self…respect；
dignity；　all　my　old　self　in　fact；　prevented　me　from　uttering。　If　my
thought　became　speech；　I　might　as　well　throw　myself　into　the　lake　at
once；　and　yet　I　could　hardly　keep　the　words　down。　Dear　friend；　was　not
this　a　trial　passing　the　strength　of　woman？

I　returned　the　letter；　saying：

〃My　poor　Gaston；　you　are　getting　bored　down　here。　Let　us　go　back　to
Paris；　won't　you？〃

〃To　Paris？〃　he　said。　〃But　why？　I　only　wanted　to　find　out　if　I　had　any
gift；　to　taste　the　flowing　bowl　of　success！〃

Nothing　would　be　easier　than　for　me　to　ransack　the　drawer　sometime
while　he　is　working　and　pretend　great　surprise　at　finding　the　money