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第28节

an old maid-第28节

小说: an old maid 字数: 每页4000字

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Haven't you said so yourself? For my part; I listen to you; I

understand you a great deal more than you think I do;for I still

bear you in my bosom; and your every thought still stirs me as your

slightest motion did in other days。〃



〃I shall never succeed here; mamma; and I don't want you to witness

the sight of my struggles; my misery; my anguish。 Oh; mother; let me

leave Alencon! I want to suffer away from you。〃



〃And I wish to be at your side;〃 replied his mother; proudly。 〃Suffer

without your mother!that poor mother who would be your servant if

necessary; who will efface herself rather than injure you; your

mother; who will never shame you。 No; no; Athanase; we must not part。〃



Athanase clung to his mother with the ardor of a dying man who clings

to life。



〃But I wish it; nevertheless。 If not; you will lose me; this double

grief; yours and mine; is killing me。 You would rather I lived than

died?〃



Madame Granson looked at her son with a haggard eye。



〃So this is what you have been brooding?〃 she said。 〃They told me

right。 Do you really mean to go?〃



〃Yes。〃



〃You will not go without telling me; without warning me? You must have

an outfit and money。 I have some louis sewn into my petticoat; I shall

give them to you。〃



Athanase wept。



〃That's all I wanted to tell you;〃 he said。 〃Now I'll take you to the

du Roncerets'。 Come。〃



The mother and the son went out。 Athanase left his mother at the door

of the house where she intended to pass the evening。 He looked long at

the light which came through the shutters; he clung closely to the

wall; and a frenzied joy came over him when he presently heard his

mother say; 〃He has great independence of heart。〃



〃Poor mother! I have deceived her;〃 he cried; as he made his way to

the Sarthe。



He reached the noble poplar beneath which he had meditated so much for

the last forty days; and where he had placed two heavy stones on which

he now sat down。 He contemplated that beautiful nature lighted by the

moon; he reviewed once more the glorious future he had longed for; he

passed through towns that were stirred by his name; he heard the

applauding crowds; he breathed the incense of his fame; he adored that

life long dreamed of; radiant; he sprang to radiant triumphs; he

raised his stature; he evoked his illusions to bid them farewell in a

last Olympic feast。 The magic had been potent for a moment; but now it

vanished forever。 In that awful hour he clung to the beautiful tree to

which; as to a friend; he had attached himself; then he put the two

stones into the pockets of his overcoat; which he buttoned across his

breast。 He had come intentionally without a hat。 He now went to the

deep pool he had long selected; and glided into it resolutely; trying

to make as little noise as possible; and; in fact; making scarcely

any。



When; at half…past nine o'clock; Madame Granson returned home; her

servant said nothing of Athanase; but gave her a letter。 She opened it

and read these few words;



〃My good mother; I have departed; don't be angry with me。〃



〃A pretty trick he has played me!〃 she thought。 〃And his linen! and

the money! Well; he will write to me; and then I'll follow him。 These

poor children think they are so much cleverer than their fathers and

mothers。〃



And she went to bed in peace。



During the preceding morning the Sarthe had risen to a height foreseen

by the fisherman。 These sudden rises of muddy water brought eels from

their various runlets。 It so happened that a fisherman had spread his

net at the very place where poor Athanase had flung himself; believing

that no one would ever find him。 About six o'clock in the morning the

man drew in his net; and with it the young body。 The few friends of

the poor mother took every precaution in preparing her to receive the

dreadful remains。 The news of this suicide made; as may well be

supposed; a great excitement in Alencon。 The poor young man of genius

had no protector the night before; but on the morrow of his death a

thousand voices cried aloud; 〃I would have helped him。〃 It is so easy

and convenient to be charitable gratis!



The suicide was explained by the Chevalier de Valois。 He revealed; in

a spirit of revenge; the artless; sincere; and genuine love of

Athanase for Mademoiselle Cormon。 Madame Granson; enlightened by the

chevalier; remembered a thousand little circumstances which confirmed

the chevalier's statement。 The story then became touching; and many

women wept over it。 Madame Granson's grief was silent; concentrated;

and little understood。 There are two forms of mourning for mothers。

Often the world can enter fully into the nature of their loss: their

son; admired; appreciated; young; perhaps handsome; with a noble path

before him; leading to fortune; possibly to fame; excites universal

regret; society joins in the grief; and alleviates while it magnifies

it。 But there is another sorrow of mothers who alone know what their

child was really; who alone have received his smiles and observed the

treasures of a life too soon cut short。 That sorrow hides its woe; the

blackness of which surpasses all other mourning; it cannot be

described; happily there are but few women whose heart…strings are

thus severed。



Before Madame du Bousquier returned to town; Madame du Ronceret; one

of her good friends; had driven out to Prebaudet to fling this corpse

upon the roses of her joy; to show her the love she had ignored; and

sweetly shed a thousand drops of wormwood into the honey of her bridal

month。 As Madame du Bousquier drove back to Alencon; she chanced to

meet Madame Granson at the corner of the rue Val…Noble。 The glance of

the mother; dying of her grief; struck to the heart of the poor woman。

A thousand maledictions; a thousand flaming reproaches; were in that

look: Madame du Bousquier was horror…struck; that glance predicted and

called down evil upon her head。



The evening after the catastrophe; Madame Granson; one of the persons

most opposed to the rector of the town; and who had hitherto supported

the minister of Saint…Leonard; began to tremble as she thought of the

inflexible Catholic doctrines professed by her own party。 After

placing her son's body in its shroud with her own hands; thinking of

the mother of the Saviour; she went; with a soul convulsed by anguish;

to the house of the hated rector。 There she found the modest priest in

an outer room; engaged in putting away the flax and yarns with which

he supplied poor women; in order that they might never be wholly out

of work;a form of charity which saved many who were incapable of

begging from actual penury。 The rector left his yarns and hastened to

take Madame Granson into his dining…room; where the wretched mother

noticed; as she looked at his supper; the frugal method of his own

living。



〃Monsieur l'abbe;〃 she said; 〃I have come to implore you〃 She burst

into tears; unable to continue。



〃I know what brings you;〃 replied the saintly man。 〃I must trust to

you; madame; and to your relation; Madame du Bousquier; to pacify

Monseigneur the Bishop at Seez。 Yes; I will pray for your unhappy

child; yes; I will say the masses。 But we must avoid all scandal; and

give no opportunity for evil…judging persons to assemble in the

church。 I alone; without other clergy; at night〃



〃Yes; yes; as you think best; if only he may lie in consecrated

ground;〃 said the poor mother; taking the priest's hand and kissing

it。



Toward midnight a coffin was clandestinely borne to the parish church

by four young men; comrades whom Athanase had liked the best。 A few

friends of Madame Granson; women dressed in black; and veiled; were

present; and half a dozen other young men who had been somewhat

intimate with this lost genius。 Four torches flickered on the coffin;

which was covered with crape。 The rector; assisted by one discreet

choirboy; said the mortuary mass。 Then the body of the suicide was

noiselessly carried to a corner of the cemetery; where a black wooden

cross; without inscription; was all that indicated its place hereafter

to the mother。 Athanase lived and died in shadow。 No voice was raised

to blame the rector; the bishop kept silence。 The piety of the mother

redeemed the impiety of the son's last act。



Some months later; the poor woman; half beside herself with grief; and

moved by one of those inexplicable thirsts which misery feels to steep

its lips in the bitter chalice; determined to see the spot where her

son was drowned。 Her instinct may have told her that thoughts of his

could be recovered beneath that poplar; perhaps; too; she desired to

see what his eyes had seen for the last time。 Some mothers would die

of the sight; others give themselves up to it in saintly adoration。

Patient anatomists of human nature cannot too often enunciate the

truths before which all educations; laws; and philosophical systems

must give way。 L

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