Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER XXXVI. THE INTERVIEW.

  After a minute's hesitation, Rose-Pompon said to Adrienne, whose heartwas beating violently: "I will tell you directly, madame, what I haveon my mind. I should not have gone out of my way to seek you, but, as Ihappen to fall in with you, it is very natural I should take advantageof it."

  "But, miss," said Adrienne, mildly, "may I at least know the subject ofthe conversation we are to have together?"

  "Yes, madame," replied Rose-Pompon, affecting an air of still moredecided confidence; "first of all, you must not suppose I am unhappy, orgoing to make a scene of jealousy, or cry like a forsaken damsel. Do notflatter yourself! Thank heaven, I have no reason to complain of PrinceCharming--that is the pet name I gave him--on the contrary, he has mademe very happy. If I left him, it was against his will, and because Ichose."

  So saying, Rose-Pompon, whose heart was swelling in spite of her fineairs, could not repress a sigh.

  "Yes, madame," she resumed, "I left him because I chose--for he quitedoted on me. If I had liked, he would have married me--yes, madame,married me--so much the worse, if that gives you pain. Though, when Isay 'so much the worse,' it is true that I meant to pain you. To be sureI did--but then, just now when I saw you so kind to poor Mother Bunch,though I was certainly in the right, still I felt something. However, tocut matters short, it is clear that I detest you, and that you deserveit," added Rose-Pompon, stamping her foot.

  From all this it resulted, even for a person much less sagacious thanAdrienne, and much less interested in discovering the truth, that RosePompon, notwithstanding her triumphant airs in speaking of him whom sherepresented as so much attached to her, and even anxious to wed her,was in reality completely disappointed, and was now taking refuge in adeliberate falsehood. It was evident that she was not loved, and thatnothing but violent jealousy had induced her to desire this interviewwith Mdlle. de Cardoville, in order to make what is vulgarly called ascene, considering Adrienne (the reason will be explained presently) asher successful rival. But Rose-Pompon, having recovered her good-nature,found it very difficult to continue the scene in question, particularlyas, for many reasons, she felt overawed by Adrienne.

  Though she had expected, if not the singular speech of the grisette, atleast something of the same result--for she felt it was impossible thatthe prince could entertain a serious attachment for this girl--Mdlle. deCardoville was at first delighted to hear the confirmation of her hopesfrom the lips of her rival; but suddenly these hopes were succeeded by acruel apprehension, which we will endeavor to explain. What Adrienne hadjust heard ought to have satisfied her completely. Sure that the heartof Djalma had never ceased to belong to her, she ought, according tothe customs and opinions of the world, to have cared little if, inthe effervescence of an ardent youth, he had chanced to yield to someephemeral caprice for this creature, who was, after all, very prettyand desirable--the more especially as he had now repaired his error byseparating from her.

  Notwithstanding these good reasons, such an error of the senses wouldnot have been pardoned by Adrienne. She did not understand that completeseparation of the body and soul that would make the one exempt from thestains of the other. She did not think it a matter of indifferenceto toy with one woman whilst you were thinking of another. Her young,chaste, passionate love demanded an absolute fealty--a fealty as just inthe eyes of heaven and nature as it may be ridiculous and foolish in theeyes of man. For the very reason that she cherished a refined religionof the senses, and revered them as an adorable and divine manifestation,Adrienne had all sorts of delicate scruples and nice repugnances,unknown to the austere spirituality of those ascetic prudes who despisevile matter too much to take notice of its errors, and allow it togrovel in filth, to show the contempt in which they hold it. Mdlle. deCardoville was not one of those wonderfully modest creatures who woulddie of confusion rather than say plainly that they wished for a youngand handsome husband, at once ardent and pure. It is true that theygenerally marry old, ugly, and corrupted men, and make up for itby taking two or three lovers six months after. But Adrienne feltinstinctively how much of virginal and celestial freshness there is inthe equal innocence of two loving and passionate beings--what guaranteesfor the future in the remembrance which a man preserves of his firstlove!

  We say, then, that Adrienne was only half-satisfied, though convinced bythe vexation of Rose-Pompon that Djalma had never entertained a seriousattachment for the grisette.

  "And why do you detest me, miss?" said Adrienne mildly, when Rose-Pomponhad finished her speech.

  "Oh! bless me, madame!" replied the latter, forgetting altogether herassumption of triumph, and yielding to the natural sincerity of hercharacter; "pretend that you don't know why I detest you!--Oh, yes!people go and pick bouquets from the jaws of a panther for people thatthey care nothing about, don't they? And if it was only that!" addedRose-Pompon, who was gradually getting animated, and whose pretty face,at first contracted into a sullen pout, now assumed an expression ofreal and yet half-comic sorrow.

  "And if it was only the nosegay!" resumed she. "Though it gave me adreadful turn to see Prince Charming leap like a kid upon the stage, Imight have said to myself: 'Pooh! these Indians have their own way ofshowing politeness. Here, a lady drops her nosegay, and a gentlemanpicks it up and gives it to her; but in India it is quite another thing;the man picks up the nosegay, and does not return it to the woman--heonly kills a panther before her eyes.' Those are good manners in thatcountry, I suppose; but what cannot be good manners anywhere is to treata woman as I have been treated. And all thanks to you, madame!"

  These complaints of Rose-Pompon, at once bitter and laughable, didnot at all agree with what she had previously stated as to Djalma'spassionate love for her; but Adrienne took care not to point out thiscontradiction, and said to her, mildly: "You must be mistaken, miss,when you suppose that I had anything to do with your troubles. But, inany case, I regret sincerely that you should have been ill-treated byany one."

  "If you think I have been beaten, you are quite wrong," exclaimed RosePompon. "Ah! well, I am sure! No, it is not that. But I am certain that,had it not been for you, Prince Charming would have got to love mea little. I am worthy of the trouble, after all--and then there aredifferent sorts of love--I am not so very particular--not even so muchas that," added Rose-Pompon, snapping her fingers.

  "Ah!" she continued, "when Ninny Moulin came to fetch me, and broughtme jewels and laces to persuade me to go with him, he was quite right insaying there was no harm in his offers."

  "Ninny Moulin?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, becoming more and moreinterested; "who is this Ninny Moulin, miss?"

  "A religious writer," answered Rose-Pompon, pouting; "the right-hand manof a lot of old sacristans, whose money he takes on pretense of writingabout morality and religion. A fine morality it is!"

  At these words--"a religious writer"--"sacristans" Adrienne instantlydivined some new plot of Rodin or Father d'Aigrigny, of which she andDjalma were to have been the victims. She began vaguely to perceive thereal state of the case, as she resumed: "But, miss, under what pretencecould this man take you away with him?"

  "He came to fetch me, and said I need not fear for my virtue, and wasonly to make myself look pretty. So I said to myself: 'Philemon's out oftown, and it's very dull here all alone: This seems a droll affair;what can I risk by it?'--Alas! I didn't know what I risked," addedRose Pompon, with a sigh. "Well! Ninny Moulin takes me away in a finecarriage. We stop in the Place du Palais-Royal. A sullen-looking man,with a yellow face, gets up in the room of Ninny Moulin, and takes me tothe house of Prince Charming. When I saw him--la! he was so handsome,so very handsome, that I was quite dizzy-like; and he had such a kind,noble air, that I said to myself, 'Well! there will be some credit ifI remain a good girl now!'--I did not know what a true word I wasspeaking. I have been good--oh! worse than good."

  "What, miss! do you regret having been so virtuous?"

  "Why, you see, I regret, at least, that I have not had the pleasu
re ofrefusing. But how can you refuse, when nothing is asked--when you arenot even thought worth one little loving word?"

  "But, miss, allow me to observe to you that the indifference of whichyou complain does not see to have prevented your making a long stay inthe house in question."

  "How should I know why the prince kept me there, or took me out ridingwith him, or to the play? Perhaps it is the fashion in his savagecountry to have a pretty girl by your side, and to pay no attention toher at all!"

  "But why, then, did you remain, miss?"

  "Why did I remain?" said Rose-Pompon, stamping her loot with vexation."I remained because, without knowing how it happened, I began to getvery fond of Prince Charming; and what is queer enough, I, who am as gayas a lark, loved him because he was so sorrowful, which shows that itwas a serious matter. At last, one day, I could hold out no longer. Isaid: 'Never mind; I don't care for the consequences. Philemon, I amsure, is having his fun in the country.' That set my mind at ease. Soone morning, I dress myself in my best, all very pretty, look in myglass, and say: 'Well, that will do--he can't stand that! and, going tohis room, I tell him all that passes through my head; I laugh, I cry--atlast I tell him that I adore him. What do you think he answers, in hismild voice, and as cold as a piece of marble? Why, 'Poor child--poorchild--poor child!'" added Rose-Pompon, with indignation; "neither morenor less than if I had come to complain to him of the toothache. Butthe worst of it is that I am sure, if he were not in love elsewhere, hewould be all fire and gunpowder. Only now he is so sad, so dejected!"

  Then, pausing a moment, Rose-Pompon added: "No, I will not tellyou that; you would be too pleased." But, after another pause, shecontinued: "Well, never mind; I will tell you, though"; and thissingular girl looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with a mixture of sympathyand deference. "Why should I keep it from you? I began by ridingthe high horse, and saying that the prince wished to marry me; and Ifinished by confessing that he almost turned me out. Well, it's not myfault; when I try to fib, I am sure to get confused. So, madame, this isthe plain truth:--When I met you at poor Mother Bunch's, I was at firstas angry as a little turkey-cock; but when I heard you, that are such afine great lady, speak so kindly to the poor girl, and treat her as yoursister, do what I would, my anger began to go away. Since we havebeen here, I have done my utmost to get it up again; but I find itimpossible, and the more I see the difference between us, the more Iperceive that Prince Charming was right in thinking so much of you. Foryou must know, madame, that he is over head and ears in love with you.I don't say so merely because he killed the panther for you at thePorte-Saint-Martin; but if you knew all the tricks he played with yourbouquet, and how he will sit up all night weeping in that room where hesaw you for the first time--and then your portrait, that he hasdrawn upon glass, after the fashion of his country, and so many otherthings--the fact is, that I, who was fond of him, and saw all this wasat first in a great rage; but afterwards it was so touching that itbrought the tears into my eyes. Yes, madame, just as it does now, whenI merely think of the poor prince. Oh, madame!" added Rose-Pompon, hereyes swimming in tears, and with such an expression of sincere interest,that Adrienne was much moved by it; "oh, madame, you look so mild andgood, that you will not make this poor prince miserable. Pray love him alittle bit; what can it matter to you?"

  So saying, Rose-Pompon, with a perfectly simple, though too familiar,gesture, took hold of Adrienne's hand, as if to enforce her request. Ithad required great self-command in Mdlle. de Cardoville to repress therush of joy that was mounting from her heart to her lips, to check thetorrent of questions which she burned to address to Rose-Pompon, and torestrain the sweet tears of happiness that for some seconds had trembledin her eyes; and, strangely enough, when Rose-Pompon took her hand,Adrienne, instead of withdrawing it, pressed the offered hand almostaffectionately, and led her towards the window, as if to examine hersweet face more attentively.

  On entering the room, the grisette had thrown her bonnet and shawl downupon the bed, so that Adrienne could admire the thick and silky massesof light hair that crowned the fresh face of the charming girl, withits firm, rosy cheeks, its mouth as red as a cherry, and its large bluelaughing eyes; and, thanks to the somewhat scanty dress of Rose-Pompon,Adrienne could fully appreciate the various graces of her nymph-likefigure. Strange as it may appear, Adrienne was delighted at findingthe girl still prettier than she had at first imagined. The stoicalindifference of Djalma to so attractive a creature was the best proof ofthe sincerity of the passion by which he was actuated.

  Having taken the hand of Adrienne, Rose-Pompon was herself confused andsurprised at the kindness with which Mdlle. de Cardoville permittedthis familiarity. Emboldened by this indulgence, and by the silence ofAdrienne, who for some moments had been contemplating her with almostgrateful benevolence, the grisette resumed: "Oh, you will not refuse,madame? You will take pity on this poor prince?"

  We cannot tell how Adrienne would have answered this indiscreet questionof Rose-Pompon, for suddenly a loud, wild, shrill, piercing sound,evidently intended to imitate the crowing of a cock, was heard close tothe door of the room.

  Adrienne started in alarm; but the countenance of Rose Pompon, just nowso sad, brightened up joyously at this signal, and, clapping her handsshe exclaimed, "It is Philemon!"

  "What--who?" said Adrienne, hastily.

  "My lover; oh, the monster! he must have come upstairs on tiptoe, totake me by surprise with his crowing. Just like him!"

  A second cock-a-doodle-doo, still louder than the first, was heard closeto the door. "What a stupid, droll creature it is! Always the same joke,and yet it always amuses me," said Rose-Pompon.

  And drying her tears with the back of her hand, she began to laughlike one bewitched at Philemon's jest, which, though well known to her,always seemed new and agreeable.

  "Do not open the door," whispered Adrienne, much embarrassed; "do notanswer, I beg of you."

  "Though the door is bolted, the key is on the outside; Philemon can seethat there is some one at home."

  "No matter--do not let him in."

  "But, madame, he lives here; the room belongs to him."

  In fact, Philemon, probably growing tired of the little effect producedby his two ornithological imitations, turned the key in the lock, andfinding himself unable to open the door, said in a deep bass voice:"What, dearest puss, have you shut yourself in? Are you praying SaintFlambard for the return of Philly?" (short for Philemon.)

  Adrienne, not coshing to increase, by prolonging it, the awkwardness ofthis ridiculous situation, went straight to the door and opened it,to the great surprise of Philemon, who recoiled two or three steps.Notwithstanding the annoyance of this incident, Mdlle. de Cardovillecould not help smiling at sight of Rose-Pompon's lover, and of thearticles he carried in his hand or under his arm.

  Philemon was a tall fellow, with dark hair and a very fresh color, and,being just arrived from a journey, he wore a white cap; his thick, blackbeard flowed down on his sky-blue waistcoat; and a short olive-coloredvelvet shooting-coat, with extravagantly large plaid trousers, completedhis costume. As for the accessories which had provoked a smile fromAdrienne, they consisted: first, of a portmanteau tucked under his arm,with the head and neck of a goose protruding from it; secondly, of acage held in his hand, with an enormous white rabbit all alive withinit.

  "Oh! the darling white rabbit! what pretty red eyes!" Such, it must beconfessed, was the first exclamation of Rose-Pompon, though Philemon,to whom it was not addressed, had returned after a long absence; but thestudent far from being shocked at seeing himself thus sacrificed to hislong-earned companion, smiled complacently, rejoicing at the success ofhis attempt to please his mistress.

  All this passed very rapidly. While Rose-Pompon, kneeling before thecage, was still occupied with her admiration of the rabbit, Philemon,struck with the lofty air of Mdlle. de Cardoville, raised his hand tohis cap, and bowed respectfully as he made way for her to pass. Adriennereturned his salutation with politeness, full of grace
and dignity, and,lightly descending the stairs, soon disappeared. Dazzled by her beauty,as well as impressed with her noble and lofty bearing, and curiousto know how in the world Rose-Pompon had fallen in with such anacquaintance, Philemon said to her, in his amorous jargon: "Dearestpuss! tell her Philly who is that fine lady?"

  "One of my school-fellows, you great satyr!" said Rose-Pompon, stillplaying with the rabbit.

  Then, glancing at a box, which Philemon deposited close to the cage andthe portmanteau, she added: "I'll wager anything you have brought mesome more preserves!"

  "Philly has brought something better to his dear puss," said thestudent, imprinting two vigorous kisses on the rosy cheeks ofRose-Pompon, who had at length, consented to stand up; "Philly hasbrought her his heart."

  "Fudge!" said the grisette, delicately placing the thumb of her lefthand on the tip of her nose, and opening the fingers, which she slightlymoved to and fro. Philemon answered this provocation by putting his armaround her waist; and then the happy pair shut their door.