CHAPTER III.
MARIUS ATTACKS.
One day M. Gillenormand, while his daughter was arranging the phialsand cups on the marble slab of the sideboard, leaned over Marius, andsaid in his most tender accent,--
"Look you, my little Marius, in your place I would rather eat meat thanfish; a fried sole is excellent at the beginning of a convalescence;but a good cutlet is necessary to put the patient on his legs."
Marius, whose strength had nearly quite returned, sat up, rested histwo clenched fists on his sheet, looked his grandfather in the face,assumed a terrible air, and said,--
"That induces me to say one thing to you."
"What is it?"
"That I wish to marry."
"Foreseen," said the grandfather, bursting into a laugh.
"How foreseen?"
"Yes, foreseen. You shall have your little maid."
Marius, stupefied and dazzled, trembled in all his limbs, and M.Gillenormand continued,--
"Yes, you shall have the pretty little dear. She comes every day inthe form of an old gentleman to ask after you. Ever since you havebeen wounded she has spent her time in crying and making lint. I madeinquiries; she lives at No. 7, Rue de l'Homme Armé. Ah, there we are!Ah, you want her, do you? Well, you shall have her. You're tricked thistime; you had made your little plot, and had said to yourself, 'I willtell it point-blank to that grandfather, that mummy of the Regency andthe Directory, that old beau, that Dorante who has become Géronte; hehas had his frolics too, and his amourettes, and his grisettes, andhis Cosettes; he has had his fling, he has had his wings, and he haseaten the bread of spring; he must surely remember it, we shall see.Battle!' Ah, you take the cock-chafer by the horns; very good. I offeryou a cutlet, and you answer me, 'By the bye, I wish to marry,' ByJupiter! Here's a transition! Ah, you made up your mind for a quarrel,but you did not know that I was an old coward. What do you say to that?You are done; you did not expect to find your grandfather more stupidthan yourself. You have lost the speech you intended to make me, masterlawyer, and that is annoying. Well, all the worse, rage away; I do whatyou want, and that stops you, stupid! Listen! I have made my inquiries,for I too am cunning; she is charming, she is virtuous; the Lancer doesnot speak the truth, she made heaps of lint. She is a jewel; she adoresyou; if you had died there would have been three of us, and her coffinwould have accompanied mine. I had the idea as soon as you were betterof planting her there by your bedside; but it is only in romances thatgirls are introduced to the beds of handsome young wounded men in whomthey take an interest. That would not do, for what would your aunt say?You were quite naked three parts of the time, sir; ask Nicolette, whonever left you for a moment, whether it were possible for a female tobe here? And then, what would the doctor have said? for a pretty girldoes not cure a fever. Well, say no more about it; it is settled anddone; take her. Such is my fury. Look you, I saw that you did not loveme, and I said, 'What can I do to make that animal love me?' I said,'Stay, I have my little Cosette ready to hand. I will give her to him,and then he must love me a little, or tell me the reason why.' Ah! youbelieved that the old man would storm, talk big, cry no, and lift hiscane against all this dawn. Not at all. Cosette, very good; love, verygood. I ask for nothing better; take the trouble, sir, to marry; behappy, my beloved child!"
After saying this the old man burst into sobs. He took Marius's headand pressed it to his old bosom, and both began weeping. That is one ofthe forms of supreme happiness.
"My father!" Marius exclaimed.
"Ah, you love me, then!" the old man said.
There was an ineffable moment; they were choking and could not speak.At length the old man stammered,--
"Come! the stopper is taken out of him; he called me father."
Marius disengaged his head from his grandfather's arms, and saidgently,--
"Now that I am better, father, I fancy I could see her."
"Foreseen, too; you will see her to-morrow."
"Father?"
"Well, what?"
"Why not to-day?"
"Well, to-day; done for to-day. You have called me father thrice, andit's worth that. I will see about it, and she shall be brought here.Foreseen, I tell you. That has already been put in verse, and it isthe denouement of André Chénier's elegy, the 'Jeune Malade,'--AndréChénier, who was butchered by the scound--by the giants of '93."
M. Gillenormand fancied he could see a slight frown on Marius's face,though, truth to tell, he was not listening, as he had flown awayinto ecstasy, and was thinking much more of Cosette than of 1793.The grandfather, trembling at haying introduced André Chénier soinopportunely, hurriedly continued,--
"Butchered is not the word. The fact is that the great revolutionarygeniuses who were not wicked, that is incontestable, who were heroes,Pardi, found that André Chénier was slightly in their way, and theyhad him guillo--that is to say, these great men on the 7th Thermidor,in the interest of the public safety, begged André Chénier to be kindenough to go--"
M. Gillenormand, garroted by his own sentence, could not continue.Unable to terminate it or retract it, the old man rushed, with all thespeed which his age allowed, out of the bed-room, shut the door afterhim, and purple, choking, and foaming, with his eyes out of his head,found himself nose to nose with honest Basque, who was cleaning bootsin the anteroom. He seized Basque by the collar and furiously shoutedinto his face, "By the hundred thousand Javottes of the devil, thosebrigands assassinated him!"
"Whom, sir?"
"André Chénier."
"Yes, sir," said the horrified Basque,