the hunchback of notre dame-第74节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



How　long　had　she　been　there？　　She　did　not　know。　　She　had　a　recollection　of　a　sentence　of　death　pronounced　somewhere；　against　some　one；　then　of　having　been　herself　carried　away；　and　of　waking　up　in　darkness　and　silence；　chilled　to　the　heart。　　She　had　dragged　herself　along　on　her　hands。　Then　iron　rings　that　cut　her　ankles；　and　chains　had　rattled。　She　had　recognized　the　fact　that　all　around　her　was　wall；　that　below　her　there　was　a　pavement　covered　with　moisture　and　a　truss　of　straw；　but　neither　lamp　nor　air…hole。　　Then　she　had　seated　herself　on　that　straw　and；　sometimes；　for　the　sake　of　changing　her　attitude；　on　the　last　stone　step　in　her　dungeon。　For　a　while　she　had　tried　to　count　the　black　minutes　measured　off　for　her　by　the　drop　of　water；　but　that　melancholy　labor　of　an　ailing　brain　had　broken　off　of　itself　in　her　head；　and　had　left　her　in　stupor。

At　length；　one　day；　or　one　night；　（for　midnight　and　midday　were　of　the　same　color　in　that　sepulchre）；　she　heard　above　her　a　louder　noise　than　was　usually　made　by　the　turnkey　when　he　brought　her　bread　and　jug　of　water。　　She　raised　her　head；　and　beheld　a　ray　of　reddish　light　passing　through　the　crevices　in　the　sort　of　trapdoor　contrived　in　the　roof　of　the　~inpace~。

At　the　same　time；　the　heavy　lock　creaked；　the　trap　grated　on　its　rusty　hinges；　turned；　and　she　beheld　a　lantern；　a　hand；　and　the　lower　portions　of　the　bodies　of　two　men；　the　door　being　too　low　to　admit　of　her　seeing　their　heads。　　The　light　pained　her　so　acutely　that　she　shut　her　eyes。

When　she　opened　them　again　the　door　was　closed；　the　lantern　was　deposited　on　one　of　the　steps　of　the　staircase；　a　man　alone　stood　before　her。　　A　monk's　black　cloak　fell　to　his　feet；　a　cowl　of　the　same　color　concealed　his　face。　　Nothing　was　visible　of　his　person；　neither　face　nor　hands。　　It　was　a　long；　black　shroud　standing　erect；　and　beneath　which　something　could　be　felt　moving。　　She　gazed　fixedly　for　several　minutes　at　this　sort　of　spectre。　　But　neither　he　nor　she　spoke。　　One　would　have　pronounced　them　two　statues　confronting　each　other。　　Two　things　only　seemed　alive　in　that　cavern；　the　wick　of　the　lantern；　which　sputtered　on　account　of　the　dampness　of　the　atmosphere；　and　the　drop　of　water　from　the　roof；　which　cut　this　irregular　sputtering　with　its　monotonous　splash；　and　made　the　light　of　the　lantern　quiver　in　concentric　waves　on　the　oily　water　of　the　pool。

At　last　the　prisoner　broke　the　silence。

〃Who　are　you？〃

〃A　priest。〃

The　words；　the　accent；　the　sound　of　his　voice　made　her　tremble。

The　priest　continued；　in　a　hollow　voice；

〃Are　you　prepared？〃

〃For　what？〃

〃To　die。〃

〃Oh！〃　said　she；　〃will　it　be　soon？〃

〃To…morrow。〃

Her　head；　which　had　been　raised　with　joy；　fell　back　upon　her　breast。

〃'Tis　very　far　away　yet！〃　she　murmured；　〃why　could　they　not　have　done　it　to…day？〃

〃Then　you　are　very　unhappy？〃　asked　the　priest；　after　a　silence。

〃I　am　very　cold；〃　she　replied。

She　took　her　feet　in　her　hands；　a　gesture　habitual　with　unhappy　wretches　who　are　cold；　as　we　have　already　seen　in　the　case　of　the　recluse　of　the　Tour…Roland；　and　her　teeth　chattered。

The　priest　appeared　to　cast　his　eyes　around　the　dungeon　from　beneath　his　cowl。

〃Without　light！　　without　fire！　　in　the　water！　　it　is　horrible！〃

〃Yes；〃　she　replied；　with　the　bewildered　air　which　unhappiness　had　given　her。　　〃The　day　belongs　to　every　one；　why　do　they　give　me　only　night？〃

〃Do　you　know；〃　resumed　the　priest；　after　a　fresh　silence；　〃why　you　are　here？〃

〃I　thought　I　knew　once；〃　she　said；　passing　her　thin　fingers　over　her　eyelids；　as　though　to　aid　her　memory；　〃but　I　know　no　longer。〃

All　at　once　she　began　to　weep　like　a　child。

〃I　should　like　to　get　away　from　here；　sir。　　I　am　cold；　I　am　afraid；　and　there　are　creatures　which　crawl　over　my　body。〃

〃Well；　follow　me。〃

So　saying；　the　priest　took　her　arm。　　The　unhappy　girl　was　frozen　to　her　very　soul。　　Yet　that　hand　produced　an　impression　of　cold　upon　her。

〃Oh！〃　she　murmured；　〃'tis　the　icy　hand　of　death。　　Who　are　you？〃

The　priest　threw　back　his　cowl；　she　looked。　　It　was　the　sinister　visage　which　had　so　long　pursued　her；　that　demon's　head　which　had　appeared　at　la　Falourdel's；　above　the　head　of　her　adored　Phoebus；　that　eye　which　she　last　had　seen　glittering　beside　a　dagger。

This　apparition；　always　so　fatal　for　her；　and　which　had　thus　driven　her　on　from　misfortune　to　misfortune；　even　to　torture；　roused　her　from　her　stupor。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　the　sort　of　veil　which　had　lain　thick　upon　her　memory　was　rent　away。　All　the　details　of　her　melancholy　adventure；　from　the　nocturnal　scene　at　la　Falourdel's　to　her　condemnation　to　the　Tournelle；　recurred　to　her　memory；　no　longer　vague　and　confused　as　heretofore；　but　distinct；　harsh；　clear；　palpitating；　terrible。　These　souvenirs；　half　effaced　and　almost　obliterated　by　excess　of　suffering；　were　revived　by　the　sombre　figure　which　stood　before　her；　as　the　approach　of　fire　causes　letters　traced　upon　white　paper　with　invisible　ink；　to　start　out　perfectly　fresh。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　all　the　wounds　of　her　heart　opened　and　bled　simultaneously。

〃Hah！〃　she　cried；　with　her　hands　on　her　eyes；　and　a　convulsive　trembling；　〃'tis　the　priest！〃

Then　she　dropped　her　arms　in　discouragement；　and　remained　seated；　with　lowered　head；　eyes　fixed　on　the　ground；　mute　and　still　trembling。

The　priest　gazed　at　her　with　the　eye　of　a　hawk　which　has　long　been　soaring　in　a　circle　from　the　heights　of　heaven　over　a　poor　lark　cowering　in　the　wheat；　and　has　long　been　silently　contracting　the　formidable　circles　of　his　flight；　and　has　suddenly　swooped　down　upon　his　prey　like　a　flash　of　lightning；　and　holds　it　panting　in　his　talons。

She　began　to　murmur　in　a　low　voice；

〃Finish！　finish！　the　last　blow！〃　and　she　drew　her　head　down　in　terror　between　her　shoulders；　like　the　lamb　awaiting　the　blow　of　the　butcher's　axe。

〃So　I　inspire　you　with　horror？〃　he　said　at　length。

She　made　no　reply。

〃Do　I　inspire　you　with　horror？〃　he　repeated。

Her　lips　contracted；　as　though　with　a　smile。

〃Yes；〃　said　she；　〃the　headsman　scoffs　at　the　condemned。　Here　he　has　been　pursuing　me；　threatening　me；　terrifying　me　for　months！　　Had　it　not　been　for　him；　my　God；　how　happy　it　should　have　been！　　It　was　he　who　cast　me　into　this　abyss！　Oh　heavens！　　it　was　he　who　killed　him！　　my　Phoebus！〃

Here；　bursting　into　sobs；　and　raising　her　eyes　to　the　priest；

〃Oh！　wretch；　who　are　you？　　What　have　I　done　to　you？　Do　you　then；　hate　me　so？　　Alas！　what　have　you　against　me？〃

〃I　love　thee！〃　cried　the　priest。

Her　tears　suddenly　ceased；　she　gazed　at　him　with　the　look　of　an　idiot。　　He　had　fallen　on　his　knees　and　was　devouring　her　with　eyes　of　flame。

〃Dost　thou　understand？　　I　love　thee！〃　he　cried　again。

〃What　love！〃　said　the　unhappy　girl　with　a　shudder。

He　resumed；

〃The　love　of　a　damned　soul。〃

Both　remained　silent　for　several　minutes；　crushed　beneath　the　weight　of　their　emotions；　he　maddened；　she　stupefied。

〃Listen；〃　said　the　priest　at　last；　and　a　singular　calm　had　come　over　him；　〃you　shall　know　all　I　am　about　to　tell　you　that　which　I　have　hitherto　hardly　dared　to　say　to　myself；　when　furtively　interrogating　my　conscience　at　those　deep　hours　of　the　night　when　it　is　so　dark　that　it　seems　as　though　God　no　longer　saw　us。　　Listen。　　Before　I　knew　you；　young　girl；　I　was　happy。〃

〃So　was　I！〃　she　sighed　feebly。

〃Do　not　interrupt　me。　　Yes；　I　was　happy；　at　least　I　believed　myself　to　be　so。　　I　was　pure；　my　soul　was　filled　with　limpid　light。　　No　head　was　raised　more　proudly　and　more　radiantly　than　mine。　　Priests　consulted　me　on　chastity；　doctors；　on　doctrines。　　Yes；　science　was　all　in　all　to　me；　it　was　a　sister　to　me；　and　a　sister　sufficed。　　Not　but　that　with　age　other　ideas　came　to　me。　　More　than　once　my　flesh　had　been　moved　as　a　woman's　form　passed　by。　　That　force　of　sex　and　blood　which；　in　the　madness　of　youth；　I　had　imagined　that　I　had　stifled　forever　had；　more　than　once；　convulsively　raised　the　chain　of　iron　vows　which　bind　me；　a　miserable　wretch；　to　the　cold　stones　of　the　altar。　　But　fasting；　prayer；　study；　the　mortifications　of　the　cloister；　rendered　my　soul　mistress　of　my　body　once　more；　and　then　I　avoided　women。　　Moreover；　I　had　but　to　open　a　book；　and　all　the　impure　mists　of　my　brain　vanished　before　the　splendors　of　science。　　In　a　few　moments；　I　felt　the　gross　things　of　earth　flee　far　away；　and　I　found　myself　once　more　calm；　quieted；　and　serene；　in　the　presence　of　the　tranquil　radiance　of　eternal　truth。　　As　long　as　the　demon　sent　to　attack　me　only　vague　shadows　of　women　who　passed　occasionally　before　my　eyes　in　church；　in　the　streets；　in　the　fields；　and　who　hardly　recurred　to　my　dreams；　I　easily　vanquished　him。　　Alas！　　if　the　victory　has　not　remained　with　me；　it　is　the　fault　of　God；　who　has　not　created　man　and　the　demon　of　equal　force。　　Listen。　　One　day

Here　the　priest　paused；　and　the　prisoner　heard　sighs　of　anguish　break　from　his　breast　with　a　sound　of　the　death　rattle。

He　resumed；

〃One　day　I　was　leaning　on　the　window　of　my　cell。　　What　book　was　I　reading　then？　　Oh！　all　that　is　a　whirlwind　in　my　head。　　I　was　reading。　　The　window　opened　upon　a　Square。　　I　heard　a　sound　of　tambourine　and　music。　　Annoyed　at　being　thus　disturbed　in　my　revery；　I　glanced　into　the　Square。　　What　I　beheld；