Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER XXXVI. SUSPICIONS.

  Mdlle. de Cardoville sprang hastily to meet the visitor, and saidto her, in a voice of emotion, as she extended her arms towards her:"Come--come--there is no grating to separate us now!"

  On this allusion, which reminded her how her poor, laborious hand hadbeen respectfully kissed by the fair and rich patrician, the youngworkwoman felt a sentiment of gratitude, which was at once ineffableand proud. But, as she hesitated to respond to the cordial reception,Adrienne embraced her with touching affection. When Mother Bunch foundherself clasped in the fair arms of Mdlle. de Cardoville, when she feltthe fresh and rosy lips of the young lady fraternally pressed to her ownpale and sickly cheek, she burst into tears without being able to uttera word. Rodin, retired in a corner of the chamber, locked on this scenewith secret uneasiness. Informed of the refusal, so full of dignity,which Mother Bunch had opposed to the perfidious temptations of thesuperior of St. Mary's Convent, and knowing the deep devotion of thisgenerous creature for Agricola--a devotion which for some days she hadso bravely extended to Mdlle. de Cardoville--the Jesuit did not liketo see the latter thus laboring to increase that affection. He thought,wisely, that one should never despise friend or enemy, however smallthey may appear. Now, devotion to Mdlle. de Cardoville constituted anenemy in his eyes; and we know, moreover, that Rodin combined inhis character rare firmness, with a certain degree of superstitiousweakness, and he now felt uneasy at the singular impression of fearwhich Mother Bunch inspired in him. He determined to recollect thispresentiment.

  Delicate natures sometimes display in the smallest things the mostcharming instincts of grace and goodness. Thus, when the sewing-girl wasshedding abundant and sweet tears of gratitude, Adrienne took a richlyembroidered handkerchief, and dried the pale and melancholy face. Thisaction, so simple and spontaneous, spared the work-girl one humiliation;for, alas! humiliation and suffering are the two gulfs, along the edgeof which misfortune continually passes. Therefore, the least kindness isin general a double benefit to the unfortunate. Perhaps the reader maysmile in disdain at the puerile circumstance we mention. But poorMother Bunch, not venturing to take from her pocket her old raggedhandkerchief, would long have remained blinded by her tears, if Mdlle.de Cardoville had not come to her aid.

  "Oh! you are so good--so nobly charitable, lady!" was all that thesempstress could say, in a tone of deep emotion; for she was still moretouched by the attention of the young lady, than she would perhaps havebeen by a service rendered.

  "Look there, sir," said Adrienne to Rodin, who drew near hastily."Yes," added the young patrician, proudly, "I have indeed discovereda treasure. Look at her, sir; and love her as I love her, honor as Ihonor. She has one of those hearts for which we are seeking."

  "And which, thank heaven, we are still able to find, my dear younglady!" said Rodin, as he bowed to the needle-woman.

  The latter raised her eyes slowly, and locked at the Jesuit. At sight ofthat cadaverous countenance, which was smiling benignantly upon her, theyoung girl started. It was strange! she had never seen this man, andyet she felt instantly the same fear and repulsion that he had felt withregard to her. Generally timid and confused, the work-girl could notwithdraw her eyes from Rodin's; her heart beat violently, as at thecoming of some great danger, and, as the excellent creature feared onlyfor those she loved, she approached Adrienne involuntarily, keepingher eyes fixed on Rodin. The Jesuit was too good a physiognomist not toperceive the formidable impression he had made, and he felt an increaseof his instinctive aversion for the sempstress. Instead of casting downhis eyes, he appeared to examine her with such sustained attention, thatMdlle. de Cardoville was astonished at it.

  "I beg your pardon, my dear girl," said Rodin, as if recalling hisrecollections, and addressing himself to Mother Bunch, "I beg yourpardon--but I think--if I am not deceived--did you not go a few dayssince to St. Mary's Convent, hard by?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "No doubt, it was you. Where then was my head?" cried Rodin. "It wasyou--I should have guessed it sooner."

  "Of what do you speak, sir?" asked Adrienne.

  "Oh! you are right, my dear young lady," said Rodin, pointing to thehunchback. "She has indeed a noble heart, such as we seek. If you knewwith what dignity, with what courage this poor girl, who was out of workand, for her, to want work is to want everything--if you knew, I say,with what dignity she rejected the shameful wages that the superior ofthe convent was unprincipled enough to offer, on condition of her actingas a spy in a family where it was proposed to place her."

  "Oh, that is infamous!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, with disgust. "Sucha proposal to this poor girl--to her!"

  "Madame," said Mother Bunch, bitterly, "I had no work, I was poor, theydid not know me--and they thought they might propose anything to thelikes of me."

  "And I tell you," said Rodin, "that it was a double baseness on the partof the superior, to offer such temptation to misery, and it was doublynoble in you to refuse."

  "Sir," said the sewing-girl, with modest embarrassment.

  "Oh! I am not to be intimidated," resumed Rod in. "Praise or blame, Ispeak out roughly what I think. Ask this dear young lady," he added,with a glance at Adrienne. "I tell you plainly, that I think as well ofyou as she does herself."

  "Believe me, dear," said Adrienne, "there are some sorts of praise whichhonor, recompense, and encourage; and M. Rodin's is of the number. Iknow it,--yes, I know it."

  "Nay, my dear young lady, you must not ascribe to me all the honor ofthis judgment."

  "How so, sir?"

  "Is not this dear girl the adopted sister of Agricola Baudoin, thegallant workman, the energetic and popular poet? Is not the affection ofsuch a man the best of guarantees, and does it not enable us to judge,as it were, by the label?" added Rodin, with a smile.

  "You are right, sir," said Adrienne; "for, before knowing this deargirl, I began to feel deeply interested in her, from the day that heradopted brother spoke to me about her. He expressed himself with so muchwarmth, so much enthusiasm, that I at once conceived an esteem for theperson capable of inspiring so noble an attachment."

  These words of Adrienne, joined to another circumstance, had suchan effect upon their hearer, that her pale face became crimson. Theunfortunate hunchback loved Agricola, with love as passionate as it wassecret and painful: the most indirect allusion to this fatal sentimentoccasioned her the most cruel embarrassment. Now, the moment Mdlle. deCardoville spoke of Agricola's attachment for Mother Bunch, the latterhad encountered Rodin's observing and penetrating look fixed upon her.Alone with Adrienne, the sempstress would have felt only a momentaryconfusion on hearing the name of the smith; but unfortunately shefancied that the Jesuit, who already filled her with involuntary fear,had seen into her heart, and read the secrets of that fatal love, ofwhich she was the victim. Thence the deep blushes of the poor girl, andthe embarrassment so painfully visible, that Adrienne was struck withit.

  A subtle and prompt mind, like Rodin's on perceiving the smallesteffect, immediately seeks the cause. Proceeding by comparison, theJesuit saw on one side a deformed, but intelligent young girl, capableof passionate devotion; on the other, a young workman, handsome, bold,frank, and full of talent. "Brought up together, sympathizing with eachother on many points, there must be some fraternal affection betweenthem," said he to himself; "but fraternal affection does not blush, andthe hunchback blushed and grew troubled beneath my look; does she, then,Love Agricola?"

  Once on the scent of this discovery, Rodin wished to pursue theinvestigation. Remarking the surprise and visible uneasiness that MotherBunch had caused in Adrienne, he said to the latter, with a smile,looking significantly at the needlewoman: "You see, my dear younglady, how she blushes. The good girl is troubled by what we said of theattachment of this gallant workman."

  The needlewoman hung down her head, overcome with confusion. After thepause of a second, during which Rodin preserved silence, so as to givetime for his cruel remark to pierce the heart of the victim, the sava
geresumed: "Look at the dear girl! how embarrassed she appears!"

  Again, after another silence, perceiving that Mother Bunch from crimsonhad become deadly pale, and was trembling in all her limbs, the Jesuitfeared he had gone too far, whilst Adrienne said to her friend, withanxiety: "Why, dear child, are you so agitated?"

  "Oh! it is clear enough," resumed Rodin, with an air of perfectsimplicity; for having discovered what he wished to know, he now choseto appear unconscious. "It is quite clear and plain. This good girl hasthe modesty of a kind and tender sister for a brother. When you praisehim, she fancies that she is herself praised."

  "And she is as modest as she is excellent," added Adrienne, taking bathof the girl's hands, "the least praise, either of her adopted brother orof herself, troubles her in this way. But it is mere childishness, and Imust scold her for it."

  Mdlle. de Cardoville spoke sincerely, for the explanation given by Rodinappeared to her very plausible. Like all other persons who, dreadingevery moment the discovery of some painful secret have their courageas easily restored as shaken, Mother Bunch persuaded herself (and sheneeded to do so, to escape dying of shame), that the last words of Rodinwere sincere, and that he had no idea of the love she felt for Agricola.So her agony diminished, and she found words to reply to Mdlle. deCardoville.

  "Excuse me, madame," she said timidly, "I am so little accustomed tosuch kindness as that with which you overwhelm me, that I make a sorryreturn for all your goodness."

  "Kindness, my poor girl?" said Adrienne. "I have done nothing foryou yet. But, thank heaven! from this day I shall be able to keep mypromise, and reward your devotion to me, your courageous resignation,your sacred love of labor, and the dignity of which you have given somany proofs, under the most cruel privations. In a word, from this day,if you do not object to it, we will part no more."

  "Madame, you are too kind," said Mother Bunch, in a trembling voice;"but I--"

  "Oh! be satisfied," said Adrienne, anticipating her meaning. "If youaccept my offer, I shall know how to reconcile with my desire (nota little selfish) of having you near me, the independence of yourcharacter, your habits of labor, your taste for retirement, and youranxiety to devote yourself to those who deserve commiseration; it is,I confess, by affording you the means of satisfying these generoustendencies, that I hope to seduce and keep you by me."

  "But what have I done?" asked the other, simply, "to merit any gratitudefrom you? Did you not begin, on the contrary, by acting so generously tomy adopted brother?"

  "Oh! I do not speak of gratitude," said Adrienne; "we are quits. I speakof friendship and sincere affection, which I now offer you."

  "Friendship to me, madame?"

  "Come, come," said Adrienne, with a charming smile, "do not be proudbecause your position gives you the advantage. I have set my heart onhaving you for a friend, and you will see that it shall be so. But nowthat I think of it (a little late, you will say), what good wind bringsyou hither?"

  "This morning M. Dagobert received a letter, in which he was requestedto come to this place, to learn some news that would be of the greatestinterest to him. Thinking it concerned Marshal Simon's daughters, hesaid to me: 'Mother Bunch, you have taken so much interest in thosedear children, that you must come with me: you shall witness my joy onfinding them, and that will be your reward.'"

  Adrienne glanced at Rodin. The latter made an affirmative movement ofthe head, and answered: "Yes, yes, my dear young lady: it was I whowrote to the brave soldier, but without signing the letter, or givingany explanation. You shall know why."

  "Then, my dear girl, why did you come alone?" said Adrienne.

  "Alas, madame! on arriving here, it was your kind reception that made meforget my fears."

  "What fears?" asked Rodin.

  "Knowing that you lived here, madame, I supposed the letter was fromyou; I told M. Dagobert so, and he thought the same. When we arrived,his impatience was so great, that he asked at the door if the orphanswere in this house, and he gave their description. They told him no.Then, in spite of my supplications, he insisted on going to the conventto inquire about them."

  "What imprudence!" cried Adrienne.

  "After what took place the other night, when he broke in," added Rodin,shrugging his shoulders.

  "It was in vain to tell him," returned Mother Bunch, "that the letterdid not announce positively, that the orphans would be delivered up tohim; but that, no doubt, he would gain some information about them. Herefused to hear anything, but said to me: 'If I cannot find them, I willrejoin you. But they were at the convent the day before yesterday, andnow that all is discovered, they cannot refuse to give them up--"

  "And with such a man there is no disputing!" said Rodin, with a smile.

  "I hope they will not recognize him!" said Adrienne, rememberingBaleinier's threats.

  "It is not likely," replied Rodin; "they will only refuse himadmittance. That will be, I hope, the worst misfortune that will happen.Besides, the magistrate will soon be here with the girls. I am no longerwanted: other cares require my attention. I must seek out Prince Djalma.Only tell me, my dear young lady, where I shall find you, to keep youinformed of my discoveries, and to take measures with regard to theyoung prince, if my inquiries, as I hope, shall be attended withsuccess."

  "You will find me in my new house, Rue d'Anjou, formerly Beaulieu House.But now I think of it," said Adrienne, suddenly, after some moments ofreflection, "it would not be prudent or proper, on many accounts, tolodge the Prince Djalma in the pavilion I occupied at Saint-DizierHouse. I saw, some time ago, a charming little house, all furnished andready; it only requires some embellishments, that could be completed intwenty four hours, to make it a delightful residence. Yes, that will bea thousand times preferable," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, after a newinterval of silence; "and I shall thus be able to preserve the strictestincognito."

  "What!" cried Rodin, whose projects would be much impeded by this newresolution of the young lady; "you do not wish him to know who you are?"

  "I wish Prince Djalma to know absolutely nothing of the anonymous friendwho comes to his aid; I desire that my name should not be pronouncedbefore him, and that he should not even know of my existence--atleast, for the present. Hereafter--in a month, perhaps--I will see;circumstances will guide me."

  "But this incognito," said Rodin, hiding his disappointment, "will bedifficult to preserve."

  "If the prince had inhabited the lodge, I agree with you; theneighborhood of my aunt would have enlightened him, and this fear is oneof the reasons that have induced me to renounce my first project. Butthe prince will inhabit a distant quarter--the Rue Blanche. Who willinform him of my secret? One of my old friends, M. Norval--you, sir--andthis dear girl," pointing to Mother Bunch, "on whose discretion I candepend as on your own, will be my only confidants. My secret will thenbe quite safe. Besides, we will talk further on this subject to-morrow.You must begin by discovering the retreat of this unfortunate youngprince."

  Rodin, though much vexed at Adrienne's subtle determination withregard to Djalma, put the best face on the matter, and replied: "Yourintentions shall be scrupulously fulfilled, my dear young lady; andto-morrow, with your leave, I hope to give you a good account of whatyou are pleased to call my providential mission."

  "To-morrow, then, I shall expect you with impatience," said Adrienne, toRodin, affectionately. "Permit me always to rely upon you, as from thisday you may count upon me. You must be indulgent with me, sir; for I seethat I shall yet have many counsels, many services to ask of you--thoughI already owe you so much."

  "You will never owe me enough, my dear young lady, never enough,"said Rodin, as he moved discreetly towards the door, after bowing toAdrienne. At the very moment he was going out, he found himself face toface with Dagobert.

  "Holloa! at last I have caught one!" shouted the soldier, as he seizedthe Jesuit by the collar with a vigorous hand.