the two brothers-第13节

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solidarity　among　the　passions　in　a　matter　of　folly。



The　mischievous　Bixiou　was　not　long　in　revealing　to　his　grandmother

and　the　devoted　Agathe　that　Philippe；　the　cashier；　the　hero　of　heroes；

was　in　love　with　Mariette；　the　celebrated　ballet…dancer　at　the　Porte…

Saint…Martin。　The　news　was　a　thunder…clap　to　the　two　widows；　Agathe's

religious　principles　taught　her　to　think　that　all　women　on　the　stage

were　brands　in　the　burning；　moreover；　she　thought；　and　so　did　Madame

Descoings；　that　women　of　that　kind　dined　off　gold；　drank　pearls；　and

wasted　fortunes。



〃Now　do　you　suppose；〃　said　Joseph　to　his　mother；　〃that　my　brother　is

such　a　fool　as　to　spend　his　money　on　Mariette？　Such　women　only　ruin

rich　men。〃



〃They　talk　of　engaging　Mariette　at　the　Opera；〃　said　Bixiou。　〃Don't　be

worried；　Madame　Bridau；　the　diplomatic　body　often　comes　to　the　Porte…

Saint…Martin；　and　that　handsome　girl　won't　stay　long　with　your　son。　I

did　hear　that　an　ambassador　was　madly　in　love　with　her。　By　the　bye；

another　piece　of　news！　Old　Claparon　is　dead；　and　his　son；　who　has

become　a　banker；　has　ordered　the　cheapest　kind　of　funeral　for　him。

That　fellow　has　no　education；　they　wouldn't　behave　like　that　in

China。〃



Philippe；　prompted　by　mercenary　motives；　proposed　to　Mariette　that　she

should　marry　him；　but　she；　knowing　herself　on　the　eve　of　an　engagement

at　the　Grand　Opera；　refused　the　offer；　either　because　she　guessed　the

colonel's　motive；　or　because　she　saw　how　important　her　independence

would　be　to　her　future　fortune。　For　the　remainder　of　this　year；

Philippe　never　came　more　than　twice　a　month　to　see　his　mother。　Where

was　he？　Either　at　his　office；　or　the　theatre；　or　with　Mariette。　No

light　whatever　as　to　his　conduct　reached　the　household　of　the　rue

Mazarin。　Giroudeau；　Finot；　Bixiou；　Vernou；　Lousteau；　saw　him　leading　a

life　of　pleasure。　Philippe　shared　the　gay　amusements　of　Tullia；　a

leading　singer　at　the　Opera；　of　Florentine；　who　took　Mariette's　place

at　the　Porte…Saint…Martin；　of　Florine　and　Matifat；　Coralie　and

Camusot。　After　four　o'clock；　when　he　left　his　office；　until　midnight；

he　amused　himself；　some　party　of　pleasure　had　usually　been　arranged

the　night　before；a　good　dinner；　a　card…party；　a　supper　by　some　one

or　other　of　the　set。　Philippe　was　in　his　element。



This　carnival；　which　lasted　eighteen　months；　was　not　altogether

without　its　troubles。　The　beautiful　Mariette　no　sooner　appeared　at　the

Opera；　in　January；　1821；　than　she　captured　one　of　the　most

distinguished　dukes　of　the　court　of　Louis　XVIII。　Philippe　tried　to

make　head　against　the　peer；　and　by　the　month　of　April　he　was　compelled

by　his　passion；　notwithstanding　some　luck　at　cards；　to　dip　into　the

funds　of　which　he　was　cashier。　By　May　he　had　taken　eleven　hundred

francs。　In　that　fatal　month　Mariette　started　for　London；　to　see　what

could　be　done　with　the　lords　while　the　temporary　opera　house　in　the

Hotel　Choiseul；　rue　Lepelletier；　was　being　prepared。　The　luckless

Philippe　had　ended；　as　often　happens；　in　loving　Mariette

notwithstanding　her　flagrant　infidelities；　she　herself　had　never

thought　him　anything　but　a　dull…minded；　brutal　soldier；　the　first　rung

of　a　ladder　on　which　she　had　never　intended　to　remain　long。　So；

foreseeing　the　time　when　Philippe　would　have　spent　all　his　money；　she

captured　other　journalistic　support　which　released　her　from　the

necessity　of　depending　on　him；　nevertheless；　she　did　feel　the　peculiar

gratitude　that　class　of　women　acknowledge　towards　the　first　man　who

smooths　their　way；　as　it　were；　among　the　difficulties　and　horrors　of　a

theatrical　career。



Forced　to　let　his　terrible　mistress　go　to　London　without　him；　Philippe

went　into　winter　quarters；　as　he　called　it；that　is；　he　returned　to

his　attic　room　in　his　mother's　appartement。　He　made　some　gloomy

reflections　as　he　went　to　bed　that　night；　and　when　he　got　up　again。　He

was　conscious　within　himself　of　the　inability　to　live　otherwise　than

as　he　had　been　living　the　last　year。　The　luxury　that　surrounded

Mariette；　the　dinners；　the　suppers；　the　evenings　in　the　side…scenes；

the　animation　of　wits　and　journalists；　the　sort　of　racket　that　went　on

around　him；　the　delights　that　tickled　both　his　senses　and　his　vanity；

such　a　life；　found　only　in　Paris；　and　offering　daily　the　charm　of

some　new　thing；　was　now　more　than　habit；it　had　become　to　Philippe　as

much　a　necessity　as　his　tobacco　or　his　brandy。　He　saw　plainly　that　he

could　not　live　without　these　continual　enjoyments。　The　idea　of　suicide

came　into　his　head；　not　on　account　of　the　deficit　which　must　soon　be

discovered　in　his　accounts；　but　because　he　could　no　longer　live　with

Mariette　in　the　atmosphere　of　pleasure　in　which　he　had　disported

himself　for　over　a　year。　Full　of　these　gloomy　thoughts；　he　entered　for

the　first　time　his　brother's　painting…room；　where　he　found　the　painter

in　a　blue　blouse；　copying　a　picture　for　a　dealer。



〃So　that's　how　pictures　are　made；〃　said　Philippe；　by　way　of　opening

the　conversation。



〃No；〃　said　Joseph；　〃that　is　how　they　are　copied。〃



〃How　much　do　they　pay　you　for　that？〃



〃Eh！　never　enough；　two　hundred　and　fifty　francs。　But　I　study　the

manner　of　the　masters　and　learn　a　great　deal；　I　found　out　the　secrets

of　their　method。　There's　one　of　my　own　pictures；〃　he　added；　pointing

with　the　end　of　his　brush　to　a　sketch　with　the　colors　still　moist。



〃How　much　do　you　pocket　in　a　year？〃



〃Unfortunately；　I　am　known　only　to　painters。　Schinner　backs　me；　and　he

has　got　me　some　work　at　the　Chateau　de　Presles；　where　I　am　going　in

October　to　do　some　arabesques；　panels；　and　other　decorations；　for

which　the　Comte　de　Serizy；　no　doubt；　will　pay　well。　With　such　trifles

and　with　orders　from　the　dealers；　I　may　manage　to　earn　eighteen

hundred　to　two　thousand　francs　a　year　over　and　above　the　working

expenses。　I　shall　send　that　picture　to　the　next　exhibition；　if　it　hits

the　public　taste；　my　fortune　is　made。　My　friends　think　well　of　it。〃



〃I　don't　know　anything　about　such　things；〃　said　Philippe；　in　a　subdued

voice　which　caused　Joseph　to　turn　and　look　at　him。



〃What　is　the　matter？〃　said　the　artist；　seeing　that　his　brother　was

very　pale。



〃I　should　like　to　know　how　long　it　would　take　you　to　paint　my

portrait？〃



〃If　I　worked　steadily；　and　the　weather　were　clear；　I　could　finish　it

in　three　or　four　days。〃



〃That's　too　long；　I　have　only　one　day　to　give　you。　My　poor　mother

loves　me　so　much　that　I　wished　to　leave　her　my　likeness。　We　will　say

no　more　about　it。〃



〃Why！　are　you　going　away　again？〃



〃I　am　going　never　to　return；〃　replied　Philippe　with　an　air　of　forced

gayety。



〃Look　here；　Philippe；　what　is　the　matter？　If　it　is　anything　serious；　I

am　a　man　and　not　a　ninny。　I　am　accustomed　to　hard　struggles；　and　if

discretion　is　needed；　I　have　it。〃



〃Are　you　sure？〃



〃On　my　honor。〃



〃You　will　tell　no　one；　no　matter　who？〃



〃No　one。〃



〃Well；　I　am　going　to　blow　my　brains　out。〃



〃You！are　you　going　to　fight　a　duel？〃



〃I　am　going　to　kill　myself。〃



〃Why？〃



〃I　have　taken　eleven　hundred　francs　from　the　funds　in　my　hands；　I　have

got　to　send　in　my　accounts　to…morrow　morning。　Half　my　security　is

lost；　our　poor　mother　will　be　reduced　to　six　hundred　francs　a　year。

That　would　be　nothing！　I　could　make　a　fortune　for　her　later；　but　I　am

dishonored！　I　cannot　live　under　dishonor〃



〃You　will　not　be　dishonored　if　it　is　paid　back。　To　be　sure；　you　will

lose　your　place；　and　you　will　only　have　the　five　hundred　francs　a　year

from　your　cross；　but　you　can　live　on　five　hundred　francs。〃



〃Farewell！〃　said　Philippe；　running　rapidly　downstairs；　and　not　waiting

to　hear　another　word。



Joseph　left　his　studio　and　went　down　to　breakfast　with　his　mother；　but

Philippe's　confession　had　taken　away　his　appetite。　He　took　Madame

Descoings　aside　and　told　her　the　terrible　news。　The　old　woman　made　a

frightened　exclamation；　let　fall　the　saucepan　of　milk　she　had　in　her

hand；　and　flung　herself　into　a　chair。　Agathe　rushed　in；　from　one

exclamation　to　another　the　mother　gathered　the　fatal　truth。



〃He！　to　fail　in　honor！　the　son　of　Bridau　to　take　the　money　that　was

trusted　to　him！〃



The　widow　trembled　in　every　limb；　her　eyes　dilated　and　then　grew

fixed；　she　sat　down　and　burst　into　tears。



〃Where　is　he？〃　she　cried　amid　the　sobs。　〃Perhaps　he　has　flung　himself

into　the　Seine。〃



〃You　must　not　give　up　all　hope；〃　said　Madame　Descoings；　〃because　a

poor　lad　has　met　with　a　bad　woman　who　has　led　him　to　do　wrong。　Dear

me！　we　see　that　every　day。　Philippe　has　had　such　misfortunes！　he　has

had　so　little　chance　to　be　happy　and　loved　that　we　ought　not　to　be

surprised　at　his　passion　for　that　creature。　All　passions　lead　to

excess。　My　own　life　is　not　without　reproach　of　that　kind；　and　yet　I

call　myself　an　honest　woman。　A　single　fault　is　not　vice；　and　after

all；　it　is　only　those　who　do　nothing　that　are　never　deceived。〃



Agathe's　despair　overcame　her　so　much　that　Joseph