Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER VII. THE TEMPTATION.

  This was the cause of Mother Bunch's emotion. Florine, when she went tosee the superior, had left the young sempstress in a passage suppliedwith benches, and forming a sort of ante-chamber on the first story.Being alone, the girl had mechanically approached a window whichlooked upon the convent garden, shut in by a half demolished wall, andterminating at one end in an open paling. This wall was connected witha chapel that was still building, and bordered on the garden of aneighboring house. The sewing-girl, at one of the windows on the groundfloor of this house--a grated window, still more remarkable by the sortof tent-like awning above it--beheld a young female, with her eyes fixedupon the convent, making signs with her hand, at once encouraging andaffectionate. From the window where she stood, Mother Bunch could notsee to whom these signs were addressed; but she admired the rare beautyof the telegrapher, the brilliancy of her complexion, the shiningblackness of her large eyes, the sweet and benevolent smile whichlingered on her lips. There was, no doubt, some answer to her gracefuland expressive pantomime, for, by a movement full of elegance, the girllaid her left hand on her bosom, and waved her right, which seemed toindicate that her heart flew towards the place on which she kept hereyes. One faint sunbeam, piercing the clouds, came at this moment toplay with the tresses of the pale countenance, which, now held closeto the bars of the window, was suddenly, as it were, illuminated bythe dazzling reflection of her splendid golden hair. At sight of thatcharming face, set in its admirable frame of red curls, Mother Bunchstarted involuntarily; the thought of Mdlle. de Cardoville crossed hermind, and she felt persuaded (nor was she, indeed, mistaken), thatthe protectress of Agricola was before her. On thus beholding, inthat gloomy asylum, this young lady, so marvellously beautiful, andremembering the delicate kindness with which a few days before she hadreceived Agricola in her luxurious little palace of dazzling splendor,the work-girl felt her heart sink within her. She believed Adrienneinsane; and yet, as she looked attentively at her, it seemed as ifintelligence and grace animated that adorable countenance. Suddenly,Mdlle. de Cardoville laid her fingers upon her lips, blew a couple ofkisses in the direction towards which she had been looking, and allat once disappeared. Reflecting upon the important revelations whichAgricola had to make to Mdlle. de Cardoville, Mother Bunch regrettedbitterly that she had no means of approaching her; for she felt surethat, if the young lady were mad, the present was a lucid interval.She was yet absorbed in these uneasy reflections, when she saw Florinereturn, accompanied by one of the nuns. Mother Bunch was obliged,therefore, to keep silence with regard to the discovery she had made,and soon after she found herself in the superior's presence. Thislatter, after a rapid and searching examination of the countenance ofthe young workwoman, judged her appearance so timid, gentle and honest,that she thought she might repose full confidence in the informationgiven by Florine.

  "My dear daughter," said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in an affectionatevoice, "Florine has told me in what a cruel situation you are placed. Isit true that you are entirely without work?"

  "Alas! yes, madame."

  "Call me mother, my dear daughter; that name is dearer to me, and it isthe rule of our house. I need not ask you what are your principles?"

  "I have always lived honestly by my labor, mother," answered the girl,with a simplicity at once dignified and modest.

  "I believe you, my dear daughter, and I have good reasons for so doing.We must thank the Lord, who has delivered you from temptation; but tellme--are you clever at your trade?"

  "I do my best, mother, and have always satisfied my employers. If youplease to try me, you will be able to judge."

  "Your affirmation is sufficient, my dear daughter. You prefer, I think,to go out by the day?"

  "Mdlle. Florine told me, mother, that I could not have work at home."

  "Why, no--not for the present, my child. If hereafter an opportunityshould offer, I will think of it. Just now I have this to propose toyou. A very respectable old lady has asked me to recommend to her aneedle-woman by the day; introduced by me, you will certainly suither. The institution will undertake to clothe you becomingly, and thisadvance we shall retain by degrees out of your wages, for you will lookto us for payment. We propose to give you two francs a day; does thatappear to you sufficient?"

  "Oh, mother! it is much more than I could have expected."

  "You will, moreover, only be occupied from nine o'clock in the morningtill six in the evening; you will thus have still some off hours, ofwhich you might make use. You see, the situation is not a hard one."

  "Oh! quite the contrary, mother."

  "I must tell you, first of all, with whom the institution intends toplace you. It is a widow lady, named Mme. de Bremant, a person of themost steadfast piety. In her house, I hope, you will meet with none butexcellent examples. If it should be otherwise, you can come and informme."

  "How so, mother?" said the sewing-girl, with surprise.

  "Listen to me, my dear daughter," said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in atone ever more and more affectionate; "the institution of St. Mary hasa double end in view. You will perfectly understand that, if it is ourduty to give to masters and mistresses every possible security as to themorality of the persons that we place in their families, we are likewisebound to give to the persons that we so place out every possiblesecurity as to the morality of their employers."

  "Nothing can be more just and of a wiser foresight, mother."

  "Naturally, my dear daughter; for even as a servant of bad morals maycause the utmost trouble in a respectable family, so the bad conduct ofa master or mistress may have the most baneful influence on the personswho serve them, or who come to work in their houses. Now, it is to offera mutual guarantee to good masters and honest servants, that we havefounded this institution."

  "Oh, madame!" cried Mother Bunch, with simplicity; "such designs meritthe thanks and blessings of every one."

  "And blessings do not fail us, my dear daughter, because we perform ourpromises. Thus, an interesting workwoman--such as you, for example--isplaced with persons that we suppose irreproachable. Should she, however,perceive, on the part of her employers, or on that of the persons whofrequent the house, any irregularity of morals, any tendency to whatwould offend her modesty, or shock her religious principles, she shouldimmediately give us a detailed account of the circumstances that havecaused her alarm. Nothing can be more proper--don't you think so?"

  "Yes, mother," answered Mother Bunch, timidly, for she began to findthis provision somewhat singular.

  "Then," resumed the superior, "if the case appears a serious one, weexhort our befriended one to observe what passes more attentively, soas to convince herself whether she had really reason to be alarmed.She makes a new report to us, and should it confirm our first fears,faithful to our pious guardianship, we withdraw her instantly from thehouse. Moreover, as the majority of our young people, notwithstandingtheir innocence and virtue, have not always sufficient experience todistinguish what may be injurious to their soul's health, we think itgreatly to their interest that they should confide to us once a week, asa child would to her mother, either in person or by letter, whatever haschanced to occur in the house in which we have placed them. Then we canjudge for them, whether to withdraw them or not. We have already abouta hundred persons, companions to ladies, young women in shops, servants,and needlewomen by the day, whom we have placed in a great numberof families, and, for the interest of all, we have every reason tocongratulate ourselves on this mode of proceeding. You understand me, doyou not, my dear daughter?"

  "Yes-yes, mother," said the sempstress, more and more embarrassed. Shehad too much uprightness and sagacity not to perceive that this plan ofmutually insuring the morality of masters and servants resembled a vastspy system, brought home to the domestic hearth, and carried on by themembers of the institution almost without their knowledge, for it wouldhave been difficult to disguise more skillfully the employment for whichthey were trained.

  "If I have entered int
o these long details my dear daughter," resumedMother Sainte-Perpetue, taking the hearer's silence for consent, "itis that you may not suppose yourself obliged to remain in the house inquestion, if, against our expectation, you should not find there holyand pious examples. I believe Mme. de Bremont's house to be a pure andgodly place; only I have heard (though I will not believe it) that Mme.de Bremont's daughter, Mme. de Noisy, who has lately come to reside withher, is not so exemplary in her conduct as could be desired, that shedoes not fulfil regularly her religious duties, and that, during theabsence of her husband, who is now in America, she receives visits,unfortunately too frequent, from one M. Hardy, a rich manufacturer."

  At the name of Agricola's master, Mother Bunch could not suppress amovement of surprise, and also blushed slightly. The superiornaturally mistook this surprise and confusion for a proof of the modestsusceptibility of the young sempstress, and added: "I have told you allthis, my dear daughter, that you might be on your guard. I have evenmentioned reports that I believe to be completely erroneous, for thedaughter of Mme. de Bremont has always had such good examples beforeher that she cannot have so forgotten them. But, being in the house frommorning to night, you will be able, better than any one, to discover ifthese reports have any foundation in truth. Should it unfortunately soturn out, my dear daughter, you would come and confide to me all thecircumstances that have led you to such a conclusion; and, should Ithen agree in your opinion, I would withdraw you instantly from thehouse--for the piety of the mother would not compensate sufficiently forthe deplorable example of the daughter's conduct. For, as soon as youform part of the institution, I am responsible for your salvation, and,in case your delicacy should oblige you to leave Mme. de Bremont's, asyou might be some time without employment, the institution will allowyou, if satisfied with your zeal and conduct, one franc a day till wecould find you another place. You see, my dear daughter, that you haveeverything to gain with us. It is therefore agreed that the day afterto-morrow you go to Mme. de Bremont's." Mother Bunch found herself in avery hard position. Sometimes she thought that her first suspicions wereconfirmed, and, notwithstanding her timidity, her pride felt hurt at thesupposition, that, because they knew her poor, they should believeher capable of selling herself as a spy for the sake of high wages.Sometimes, on the contrary, her natural delicacy revolted at the ideathat a woman of the age and condition of the superior could descend tomake a proposition so disgraceful both to the accepter and the proposer,and she reproached herself with her first doubts and asked herself ifthe superior had not wished to try her, before employing her, to see ifher probity would enable her to resist a comparatively brilliant offer.Mother Bunch was naturally so inclined to think well of every one, thatshe made up her mind to this last conclusion, saying to herself, thatif, after all, she were deceived, it would be the least offensive modeof refusing these unworthy offers. With a movement, exempt from allhaughtiness, but expressive of natural dignity, the young workman raisedher head, which she had hitherto held humbly cast down, looked thesuperior full in the face, that the latter might read in her countenancethe sincerity of her words, and said to her in a slightly agitatedvoice, forgetting this time to call her "mother": "Ah, madame! I cannotblame you for exposing me to such a trial. You see that I am very poor,and I have yet done nothing to command your confidence. But, believeme, poor as I am, I would never stoop to so despicable an action asthat which you have thought fit to propose to me, no doubt to assureyourself, by my refusal, that I am worthy of your kindness. No, no,madame--I could never bring myself to be a spy at any price."

  She pronounced these last words with so much animation that her cheeksbecame slightly flushed. The superior had too much tact and experiencenot to perceive the sincerity of the words. Thinking herself lucky thatthe young girl should put this construction upon the affair, she smiledupon her affectionately, and stretched out her arms to her, saying: "Itis well, my dear daughter. Come and embrace me!"

  "Mother--I am really confused--with so much kindness--"

  "No--you deserve it--your words are so full of truth and honesty. Onlybe persuaded that I have not put you to any trial, because there is noresemblance between the act of a spy and the marks of filial confidencethat we require of our members for the sake of watching over theirmorals. But certain persons--I see you are of the number, my deardaughter--have such fixed principles, and so mature a judgment, thatthey can do without our advice and guardianship, and can appreciatethemselves whatever might be dangerous to their salvation. I willtherefore leave the entire responsibility to yourself, and only ask youfor such communications as you may think proper to make."

  "Oh, madame! how good you are!" said poor Mother Bunch, for she wasnot aware of the thousand devices of the monastic spirit, and thoughtherself already sure of gaining just wages honorably.

  "It is not goodness--but justice!" answered Mother Sainte-Perpetue,whose tone was becoming more and more affectionate. "Too much tendernesscannot be shown to pious young women like you, whom poverty has onlypurified because they have always faithfully observed the divine laws."

  "Mother--"

  "One last question, my child! how many times a month do you approach theLord's table?"

  "Madame," replied the hunchback, "I have not taken the sacrament sincemy first communion, eight years ago. I am hardly able, by working everyday, and all day long, to earn my bread. I have no time--"

  "Gracious heaven!" cried the superior, interrupting, and clasping herhands with all the signs of painful astonishment. "Is it possible? youdo not practise?"

  "Alas, madame! I tell you that I have no time," answered Mother Bunch,looking disconcertedly at Mother Saint-Perpetue.

  "I am grieved, my dear daughter," said the latter sorrowfully, after amoment's silence, "but I told you that, as we place our friends in nonebut pious houses, so we are asked to recommend none but pious persons,who practise their religious duties. It is one of the indispensableconditions of our institution. It will, therefore, to my great regret,be impossible for me to employ you as I had hoped. If, hereafter, youshould renounce your present indifference to those duties, we will thensee."

  "Madame," said Mother Bunch, her heart swollen with tears, for shewas thus forced to abandon a cheering hope, "I beg pardon for havingdetained you so long--for nothing."

  "It is I, my dear daughter, who regret not to be able to attach youto the institution; but I am not altogether hopeless, that a person,already so worthy of interest, will one day deserve by her piety thelasting support of religious people. Adieu, my dear daughter! go inpeace, and may God be merciful to you, until the day that you returnwith your whole heart to Him!"

  So saying, the superior rose, and conducted her visitor to the door,with all the forms of the most maternal kindness. At the moment shecrossed the threshold, she said to her: "Follow the passage, go downa few steps, and knock at the second door on the right hand. It is thepress-room, and there you will find Florine. She will show you the wayout. Adieu, my dear daughter!"

  As soon as Mother Bunch had left the presence of the superior, hertears, until now restrained, gushed forth abundantly. Not wishing toappear before Florine and the nuns in this state, she stopped a momentat one of the windows to dry her eyes. As she looked mechanicallytowards the windows of the next house, where she fancied she had seenAdrienne de Cardoville, she beheld the latter come from a door in thebuilding, and advance rapidly towards the open paling that separated thetwo gardens. At the same instant, and to her great astonishment, MotherBunch saw one of the two sisters whose disappearance had caused thedespair of Dagobert, with pale and dejected countenance, approach thefence that separated her from Mdlle. de Cardoville, trembling with fearand anxiety, as though she dreaded to be discovered.