the trampling of the lilies-第31节

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dipping　his　quill；　he　began　to　write。

》From　the　street　came　the　dull　roll　of　beaten　drums　and　the　rhythmical
fall　of　marching　feet。　　But　the　sound　was　too　common　in　revolutionary
Paris　to　arrest　attention；　and　he　wrote　on；　heeding　it　as　little　as
he　did　the　gruff　voice　of　a　pastry…cook　crying　his　wares；　the
shriller　call　of　a　milkman；　or　the　occasional　rumblings　of　passing
vehicles。　　But　of　a　sudden　one　of　those　rumblings　ceased　abruptly　at
his　door。　　He　heard　the　rattle　of　hoofs　and　the　grind　of　the　wheel
against　the　pavement；　and　looking　up；　he　glanced　across　at　the　ormolu
timepiece　on　his　overmantel。　　It　was　not　yet　four　o'clock。

Wondering　whether　the　visitor　might　be　for　him　or　for　the　tenant　of
the　floor　above；　he　sat　listening　until　his　door　opened　and　his
official　…　the　euphemism　of　〃servant〃　in　the　revolutionary　lexicon
　…　came　to　announce　that　a　woman　was　below；　asking　to　see　him。

Now　for　all　that　he　believed　himself　to　have　become　above　emotions
where　Mademoiselle　de　Bellecour　was　concerned；　he　felt　his　pulses
quicken　at　the　very　thought　that　this　might　be　she　at　last。

〃What　manner　of　woman；　Brutus？〃　he　asked。

〃A　pretty　woman；　Citizen；〃　answered　Brutus；　with　a　grin。　　〃It　is
the　Citoyenne　Deshaix。〃

La　Boulaye　made　an　impatient　gesture。

〃Fool。　　why　did　you　not　say　so；〃　he　cried　sharply。

〃Fool；　you　did　not　ask　me；〃　answered　the　servant；　with　that　touching；
fraternal　frankness　adopted　by　all　true　patriots。　　He　was　a　thin；
under…sized　man　of　perhaps　thirty　years　of　age；　and　dressed　in　black；
with　a　decency　…　under　La　Boulaye's　suasion　…　that　was　rather　at
variance　with　his　extreme　democracy。　　His　real　name　was　Ferdinand；
but；　following　a　fashion　prevailing　among　the　ultra…republicans；　he
had　renamed　himself　after　the　famous　Roman　patriot。

La　Boulaye　toyed　a　moment　with　his　pen；　a　frown　darkening　his　brow。
Then：

〃Admit　her；〃　he　sighed　wearily。

And　presently　she　came；　a　pretty　woman；　as　Brutus　had　declared；　very
fair；　and　with　the　innocent　eyes　of　a　baby。　　She　was　small　of
stature；　and　by　the　egregious　height　of　her　plume…crowned　head…dress
it　would　seem　as　if　she　sought　by　art　to　add　to　the　inches　she　had
received　from　Nature。　　For　the　rest　she　wore　a　pink　petticoat；　very
extravagantly　beflounced；　and　a　pink　corsage　cut　extravagantly　low。
In　one　hand　she　carried　a　fan　…　hardly　as　a　weapon　against　heat；
seeing　that　the　winter　was　not　yet　out　…　in　the　other　a　huge　bunch
of　early　roses。

〃Te　voile！〃　was　her　greeting；　merrily　…　roguishly　…　delivered；　and
if　the　Revolution　had　done　nothing　else　for　her；　it　had；　at　least；
enabled　her　to　address　La　Boulaye　by　the　〃Thou〃　of　intimacy　which
the　new　vocabulary　prescribed。

La　Boulaye　rose；　laid　aside　his　pen；　and　politely；　if　coolly；
returned　her　greeting　and　set　a　chair　for　her。

〃You　are；〃　said　he；　〃a　very　harbinger　of　Spring；　Citoyenne；　with
your　flowers　and　your　ravishing　toilette。〃

〃Ah！　　I　please　you；　then；　for　once；〃　said　she　without　the　least
embarrassment。　　〃Tell　me　…　how　do　you　find　me？〃　　And；　laughing；　she
turned　about　that　he　might　admire　her　from　all　points　of　view。

He　looked　at　her　gravely　for　a　moment；　so　gravely　that　the　laughter
began　to　fade　from　her　eyes。

〃I　find　you　charming；　Citoyenne；〃　he　answered　at　last。　　〃You　remind
me　of　Diana。〃

〃Compliments？〃　quoth　she；　her　eyebrows　going　up　and　her　eyes　beaming
with　surprise　and　delight。　　〃Compliments　from　La　Boulaye！　　But
surely　it　is　the　end　of　the　world。　　Tell　me；　mon　ami；〃　she　begged；
greedily　angling　for　more；　〃in　what　do　I　remind　you　of　the　sylvan
goddess？〃

〃In　the　scantiness　of　your　raiment；　Citoyenne；〃　he　answered　acidly。
〃It　sorts　better　with　Arcadia　than　with　Paris。〃

Her　eyebrows　came　down；　her　cheeks　flushed　with　resentment　and
discomfiture。　　To　cover　this　she　flung　her　roses　among　the　papers　of
his　writing…table；　and　dropping　into　a　chair　she　fanned　herself
vigorously。

〃Citoyenne；　you　relieve　my　anxieties；〃　said　he。　　〃I　feared　that
you　stood　in　danger　of　freezing。〃

〃To　freeze　is　no　more　than　one　might　expect　in　your　company；〃　she
answered；　stifling　her　anger。

He　made　no　reply。　　He　moved　to　the　window；　and　stood　drumming
absently　on　the　panes。　　He　was　inured　to　these　invasions　on　the　part
of　Cecile　Deshaix　and　to　the　bold；　unwomanly　advances　that　repelled
him。　　To…day　his　patience　with　her　was　even　shorter　than　its　wont；
haply　because　when　his　official　had　announced　a　woman　he　had　for　a
moment　permitted　himself　to　think　that　it　might　be　Suzanne。　　The
silence　grew　awkward；　and　at　last　he　broke　it。

〃The　Citizen　Robespierre　is　well？〃　he　asked；　without　turning。

〃Yes；〃　said　she；　and　for　all　that　there　was　chagrin　to　spare　in
the　glance　with　which　she　admired　the　back　of　his　straight　and
shapely　figure；　she　contrived　to　render　her　voice　airily　indifferent。
〃We　were　at　the　play　last　night。〃

〃Ah！〃　he　murmured　politely。　　〃And　was　Talma　in　veine？〃

〃More　brilliant　than　ever；〃　answered　she。

〃He　is　a　great　actor；　Citoyenne。〃

A　shade　of　annoyance　crossed　her　face。

〃Why　do　you　always　address　me　as　Citoyenne？〃　she　asked；　with　some
testiness。

He　turned　at　last　and　looked　at　her　a　moment。

〃We　live　in　a　censorious　world；　Citoyenne；〃　he　answered　gravely。

She　tossed　her　head　with　an　exclamation　of　impatience。

〃We　live　in　a　free　world；　Citizen。　　Freedom　is　our　motto。　　Is　it　for
nothing　that　we　are　Republicans？〃

〃Freedom　of　action　begets　freedom　of　words；〃　said　he；　〃and　freedom
of　words　leads　to　freedom　of　criticism　…　and　that　is　a　thing　to
which　no　wise　woman　will　expose　herself；　no　matter　under　what　regime
we　live。　　You　would　be　well…advised；　Citoyenne；　in　thinking　of　that
when　you　come　here。〃

〃But　you　never　come　to　us；　Caron；〃　she　returned；　in　a　voice　of　mild
complaint。　　〃You　have　not　been　once　to　Duplay's　since　your　return
from　Belgium。　　And　you　seem　different；　too；　since　your　journey　to
the　army。〃　　She　rose　now　and　approached　him。　　〃What　is　it；　cher
Caron？〃　she　asked；　her　voice　a　very　caress　of　seductiveness；　her
eyes　looking　up　into　his。　　〃Is　something　troubling　you？〃

〃Troubling　me？〃　he　echoed；　musingly。　　〃No。　　But　then　I　am　a　busy
man；　Citoyenne。〃

A　wave　of　red　seemed　to　sweep　across　her　face；　and　her　heel　beat
the　parquet　floor。

〃If　you　call　me　Citoyenne　again　I　shall　strike　you；〃　she　threatened
him。

He　looked　down　at　her；　and　she　had　the　feeling　that　behind　the
inscrutable　mask　of　his　countenance　he　was　laughing　at　her。

〃It　would　sort　well　with　your　audacity；〃　he　made　answer　coolly。

She　felt　in　that　moment　that　she　hated　him；　and　it　was　a　miracle
that　she　did　not　do　as　she　had　threatened；　for　with　all　her　meek
looks　she　owned　a　very　fiercest　of　tempers。　　She　drew　back　a
pace　or　two；　and　her　glance　fell。

〃I　shall　not　trouble　you　in　future；〃　she　vowed。　　〃I　shall　not　come
here　again。〃

He　bowed　slightly。

〃I　applaud　the　wisdom　of　your　resolve　…　Cit　…　Cecile。　　The　world；
as　I　have　said；　is　censorious。〃

She　looked　at　him　a　second；　then　she　laughed；　but　it　was　laughter
of　the　lips　only；　the　eyes　looked　steely　as　daggers　and　as　capable
of　mischief。

〃Adieu；　Citizen　La　Boulaye；〃　she　murmured　mockingly。

〃Au　revoir；　Citoyenne　Deshaix；〃　he　replied　urbanely。

〃Ough！〃　she　gasped；　and　with　that　sudden　exclamation　of　pent…up
wrath；　she　whisked　about　and　went　rustling　to　the　door。

〃Citoyenne；〃　he　called　after　her；　〃you　are　forgetting　your　flowers。〃

She　halted；　and　seemed　for　a　second　to　hesitate；　looking　at　him
oddly。　　Then　she　came　back　to　the　table　and　took　up　her　roses。
Again　she　looked　at　him；　and　let　the　bouquet　fall　back　among　the
papers。

〃I　brought　them　for　you；　Caron；〃　she　said；　〃and　I'll　leave　them
with　you。　　We　can　at　least　be　friends；　can　we　not？〃

〃Friends？　　But　were　we　ever　aught　else？〃　he　asked。

〃Alas！　no；〃　she　said　to　herself；　whilst　aloud　she　murmured：〃　I
thought　that　you　would　like　them。　　Your　room　has　such　a　gloomy；
sombre　air；　and　a　few　roses　seem　to　diffuse　some　of　the　sunshine
on　which　they　have　been　nurtured。〃

〃You　are　too　good；　Cecile''　he　answered；　and；　for　all　his　coldness；
he　was　touched　a　little　by　this　thoughtfulness。

She　looked　up　at　the　altered　tone；　and　the　expression　of　her　face
seemed　to　soften。　　But　before　she　could　make　answer　there　was
a　rap　at　the　door。　　It　opened；　and　Brutus　stood　in　the　doorway。

〃Citizen；〃　he　announced；　in　his　sour　tones；〃　there　is　another
woman　below　asking　to　see　you。〃

La　Boulaye　started；　as　again　his　thoughts　flew　to　Suzanne；　and　a
dull　flush　crept　into　his　pale　cheeks　and　mounted　to　his　brow。
Cecile's　eyes　were　upon　him；　her　glance　hardening　as　she　observed
these　signs。　　Bitter　enough　had　it　been　to　endure　his　coldness
whilst　she　had　imagined　that　it　sprang　from　the　austerity　of　his
nature　and　the　absorption　of　his　soul　in　matters　political。　　But
now　that　it　seemed　she　might　have　cause　to　temper　her　bitterness
with　jealousy　her　soul　was　turned　to　gall。

〃What　manner　of　woman；　Brutus？〃　he　asked　after　a　second's　pause。

〃Tall；　pale；　straight；　black　hair；　black　eyes；　silk　gown　…　and
savours　the　aristocrat　a　league　off；〃　answered　Brutus。

〃Your　official　seems　gifted　with　a　very　comprehensive　eye；〃　said
Cecile　tartly。

But　La　Boula