"Why are they turned out?" he asked.
"Because they do not pay their rent, and owe two quarters."
"How much is it?"
"Twenty francs," said the old woman.
Marius had thirty francs in reserve in a drawer.
"Here are twenty-five francs," he said to the woman; "pay the rent ofthe poor people, give them five francs, and do not tell them where themoney comes from."
CHAPTER VI.
THE SUBSTITUTE.
Accident decreed that the regiment to which Théodule belonged shouldbe quartered in Paris. This was an opportunity for Aunt Gillenormandto have a second idea; her first one had been to set Théodule watchingMarius, and she now plotted to make him succeed him. In the eventof the grandfather feeling a vague want for a youthful face in thehouse--for such rays of dawn are sometimes sweet to ruins--it wasexpedient to find another Marius. "Well," she thought, "it is onlya simple erratum, such as I notice in books, for _Marius_ read_Théodule._ A grand-nephew is much the same as a grandson, after all,and in default of a barrister you can take a lancer."
One morning when M. Gillenormand was going to read something like the_Quotidienne_, his daughter came in and said in her softest voice, forthe interests of her favorite were at stake,--
"Papa, Théodule is coming this morning to pay his respects to you."
"Who's Théodule?"
"Your grand-nephew."
"Ah!" said the old gentleman.
Then he began reading, thought no more of the grand-nephew, who wasonly some Théodule, and soon became angry, which nearly always happenedwhen he read. The paper he held, a Royalist one we need hardly say,announced for the morrow, without any amenity, one of the dailyevents of Paris at the time, that the pupils of the schools of lawand medicine would assemble in the Place du Panthéon--to deliberate.The affair was one of the questions of the moment, the artillery ofthe National Guard, and a conflict between the war minister and the"Citizen Militia," on the subject of guns parked in the courtyard ofthe Louvre. The students were going to "deliberate" on this, and it didnot require much more to render M. Gillenormand furious. He thought ofMarius, who was a student, and who would probably go, like the others,"to deliberate at mid-day in the Place du Panthéon."
While he was making these painful reflections lieutenant Théodule camein, dressed in mufti, which was clever, and was discreetly introducedby Mlle. Gillenormand. The lancer had reasoned thus: "The old Druid hasnot sunk all his money in annuities, and so it is worth the while todisguise one's self as a _pékin_ now and then." Mlle. Gillenormand saidaloud to her father,--
"Théodule, your grand-nephew."
And in a whisper to the Lieutenant,--"Assent to everything."
And she retired.
The Lieutenant, but little accustomed to such venerable meetings,stammered, with some timidity, "Good-morning, uncle," and made a bowwhich was composed of the involuntary and mechanical military saluteblended with a bourgeois greeting.
"Ah, it's you, very good, sit down," said the ancestor, and aftersaying this he utterly forgot the lancer. Théodule sat down, and M.Gillenormand got up. He began walking up and down the room, with hishands in his pockets, talking aloud, and feeling with his old irritatedfingers the two watches which he wore in his two fobs.
"That heap of scamps! so they are going to meet in the Place duPanthéon! _Vertu de ma mie_! little ragamuffins who were at nurseyesterday! if you were to squeeze their noses the milk would run out!And they are going to deliberate to-morrow! Where are we going? Whereare we going? It is clear that we are going to the abyss, and the_descamisados_ have led us to it. The citizen artillery! deliberateabout the citizen artillery! go and chatter in the open air about thesquibs of the National Guard! And whom will they meet there? Just letus see to what Jacobinism leads. I will wager whatever you like, amillion against a counter, that there will be only liberated convictsand pickpockets there; for the Republicans and the galley-slaves arelike one nose and one handkerchief. Carnot used to say, 'Where doyou want me to go, traitor?' and Fouché answer, 'Wherever you like,imbecile!' That is what the Republicans are."
"That is true," said Théodule.
M. Gillenormand half turned his head, saw Théodule, and went on,--
"And then to think that that scamp had the villany to become aRepublican! For what have you left my house? To become a Republican!Pest! In the first place, the people do not want your republic, forthey are sensible, and know very well that there always have beenkings, and always will be, and they know, after all, that the peopleare only the people, and they laugh at your republic, do you hear,idiot? Is not such a caprice horrible,--to fall in love with PèreDuchêne, to ogle the guillotine, to sing romances, and play theguitar under the balcony of '93? Why, all these young men ought to bespat upon, for they are so stupid! They are all caught, and not oneescapes, and they need only inhale the air of the street to go mad.The 19th century is poison; the first-comer lets his goat's beardgrow, fully believes that he is a clever dog, and looks down on hisold parents,--for that is republican, it is romantic. Just be goodenough to tell me what that word romantic means? Every folly possible.A year ago they went to see _Hernani_. Just let me ask you--_Hernani!_antitheses, abominations, which are not even written in French. Andthen there are cannon in the court-yard of the Louvre; such is thebrigand-age of the present age."
"You are right, uncle," said Théodule.
M. Gillenormand continued,--
"Guns in the court-yard of the Museum! what to do? Cannon, what do youwant of me? Do you wish to fire grape-shot at the Apollo Belvidere?What have serge-cartridges to do with the Venus de Medici? Oh, theyoung men of the present day are ragamuffins, and this BenjaminConstant is not much! And those who are not villains are gawkies!They do all they can to make themselves ugly; they dress badly, theyare afraid of women, and they have an imploring air about a petticoatthat makes the wenches burst out laughing; on my word of honor, youmight call them love's paupers, ashamed to beg. They are deformed, andperfect it by being stupid; they repeat the jokes of Tiercelin andPotier; they wear sack-coats, hostlers' waistcoats, trousers of coarsecloth, boots of coarse leather, and their chatter resembles theirplumage,--their jargon might be employed to sole their boots. And allthese silly lads have political opinions, and it ought to be strictlyprohibited. They manufacture systems, they remodel society, theydemolish the monarchy, upset all laws, put the garret in the place ofthe cellar, and my porter in the place of the king; they upset Europefrom one end to the other, build up the world again, and their amoursconsist in looking sheepishly at the legs of the washerwomen as theyget into their carts. Ah, Marius! ah, scoundrel! to go and vociferatein the public square! to discuss, debate, and form measures--they callthem measures. Great gods! why, disorder is decreasing and becomingsilly. I have seen chaos and I now see a puddle. Scholars deliberatingabout the National Guard! Why, that could not be seen among theOjibbeways or the Cadodaches! The savages who go about naked, withtheir noddles dressed like a racket-bat, and with a club in their paw,are not such brutes as these bachelors, twopenny-halfpenny brats, whodare to decree and order, deliberate and argue! Why, it is the end ofthe world; it is evidently the end of this wretched globe; it wanteda final shove, and France has given it. Deliberate, my scamps! Thesethings will happen so long as they go to read the papers under thearcades of the Odéon; it costs them a son, and their common sense,and their intelligence, and their heart, and their soul, and theirmind. They leave that place, and then bolt from their family. All thenewspapers are poison, even the _Drapeau Blanc,_ and Martainville wasa Jacobin at heart. Ah, just Heaven! you can boast of having renderedyour grandfather desperate!"
"That is quite plain," said Théodule.
And taking advantage of the moment during which M. Gillenormand wasrecovering breath, the lancer added magisterially,--
"There ought to be no other paper but the _Moniteur,_ and no other bookbut the Army List."
M. Gillenormand went on,--
"It is just like thei
r Sièyes,--a regicide who became a senator!for they always end with that. They scar themselves with citizenfamiliarity, that they may be called in the long run Monsieur le Comte.Monsieur le Comte with a vengeance! slaughterers of September! Thephilosopher Sièyes! I do myself the justice of saying that I nevercared any more for the philosophy of all these philosophers than Idid for the spectacles of the grimacers at Tivoli. One day I saw theSenators pass along the Quay Malaquais, in violet velvet cloaks studdedwith bees, and wearing Henri IV. hats; they were hideous, and lookedlike the apes of the tigers' court. Citizens, I declare to you thatyour progress is a madness, that your humanity is a dream, that yourRevolution is a crime, that your Republic is a monster, that your youngVirgin France emerges from a brothel; and I sustain it against you all.No matter whether you are journalists, social economists, lawyers, andgreater connoisseurs of liberty, equality, and fraternity, than thecut-throat of the guillotine! I tell you this plainly, my good fellows."
"Parbleu!" the Lieutenant cried, "that is admirably true!"
M. Gillenormand interrupted a gesture which he had begun, turned round,gazed intently at Théodule the lancer, between the eyes, and said tohim,--
"You are an ass!"
BOOK VI.
THE CONJUNCTION OF TWO STARS.
CHAPTER I.
NICKNAMES AND SURNAMES.
Marius at this period was a handsome young man of middle height, withvery black hair, a lofty and intelligent forehead, open and impassionednostrils, a sincere and calm air, and something haughty, pensive, andinnocent was spread over his whole face. His profile, in which allthe lines were rounded without ceasing to be firm, had that Germanicgentleness which entered France through Alsace and Lorraine, and thatabsence of angles which renders it so easy to recognize the Sicambriamong the Romans, and distinguishes the leonine from the aquiline race.He had reached the season of life when the mind of men is composed ofdepth and simplicity in nearly equal proportions. A serious situationbeing given, he had all that was necessary to be stupid, but, with onemore turn of the screw, he could be sublime. His manner was reserved,cold, polite, and unexpansive; but, as his mouth was beautiful, hislips bright vermilion, and his teeth the whitest in the world, hissmile corrected any severity in his countenance. At certain momentsthis chaste forehead and voluptuous smile offered a strange contrast.He had a small eye and a noble glance.
In the period of his greatest need he remarked that people turned tolook at him when he passed, and he hurried away or hid himself, withdeath in his soul. He thought that they were looking at his shabbyclothes and laughing at them; but the fact is, they were looking athis face, and thinking about it. This silent misunderstanding betweenhimself and pretty passers-by had rendered him savage, and he did notselect one from the simple reason that he fled from all. He lived thusindefinitely--stupidity, said Courfeyrac, who also added,--"Do notaspire to be venerable, and take one bit of advice, my dear fellow. Donot read so many books, and look at the wenches a little more, for theyhave some good about them. Oh, Marius! you will grow brutalized if yougo on shunning women and blushing."
On other occasions, Courfeyrac, when he I met him, would say,"Good-morning, Abbé." When Courfeyrac had made any remark of thisnature, Marius for a whole week would shun women, young and old morethan ever, and Courfeyrac in the bargain. There were, however, in thewhole immense creation, two women whom Marius did not shun, or to whomhe paid no attention. To tell the truth, he would have been greatlysurprised had any one told him that they were women. One was thehairy-faced old woman who swept his room, and induced Courfeyrac toremark,--"Seeing that his servant wears her beard, Marius does notwear his;" the other was a young girl whom he saw very frequently anddid not look at. For more than a year Marius had noticed in a desertedwalk of the Luxembourg--the one which is bordered by the Parapet de laPepinière--a man and a very young lady nearly always seated side byside at the most solitary end of the walk, near the Rue de l'Ouest.Whenever that chance, which mingles with the promenades of people whoseeye is turned inwards, led Marius to this walk, and that was nearlydaily, he met this couple again. The man seemed to be about sixtyyears of age; he appeared sad and serious, and the whole of his personpresented the robust and fatigued appearance of military men who haveretired from service. If he had worn a decoration, Marius would havesaid, "He is an old officer." He looked kind, but unapproachable, andnever fixed his eye on that of another person. He wore blue trousers,a coat of the same color, and a broad-brimmed hat, all of which wereconstantly new, a black cravat, and a quaker's, that is to say,dazzlingly white, but very coarse shirt. A grisette who passed him oneday said, "What a nice strong widower!" His hair was very white.
The first time that the young lady who accompanied him sat downwith him upon the bench, which they seemed to have adopted, she wasabout thirteen or fourteen, so thin as to be almost ugly, awkward,insignificant, and promising to have perhaps very fine eyes some day;still they were always raised to the old gentleman with a species ofdispleasing assurance. She wore the garb, at once old and childish,of boarders at a convent,--a badly-cut dress of coarse black merino.They looked like father and daughter. Marius examined for two or threedays the old man, who was not yet aged, and this little girl, who wasnot yet a maiden, and then paid no further attention to them. They,on their side, seemed not even to see him, and talked together with apeaceful and careless air. The girl talked incessantly and gayly, theold man spoke but little, and at times he fixed upon her eyes filledwith ineffable paternity. Marius had formed the mechanical habit ofwalking in this alley, and invariably found them there. This is howmatters went on:--
Marius generally arrived by the end of the walk farthest from thebench; he walked the whole length, passed them, then turned back tothe end by which he had arrived, and began again. He took this walkfive or six times nearly every day in the week, but these persons andhimself never even exchanged a bow. The man and the girl, though theyappeared, and perhaps because they appeared, to shun observation, hadnaturally aroused to some little extent the attention of some students,who walked from time to time along La Pepinière,--the studious afterlectures, the others after their game of billiards. Courfeyrac, whobelonged to the latter, had watched them for some time, but finding thegirl ugly, he got away from them very rapidly, firing at them like aParthian a sobriquet. Being solely struck by the dress of the girl andthe old man's hair, he christened the former Mlle. Lanoire, and thefather Monsieur Leblanc, so that, as no one knew them otherwise, thisname adhered to them in the absence of a better one. The students said,"Ah, M. Leblanc is at his bench;" and Marius, like the rest, found itconvenient to call this strange gentleman M. Leblanc. We will followtheir example. Marius saw them nearly daily, at the same hour, during ayear; he considered the man agreeable, but the girl rather insipid.
CHAPTER II.
LUX FACTA EST.
In the second year, just at the point of our story which the readerhas how reached, it happened that Marius broke off his daily walk inthe Luxembourg, without exactly knowing why, and was nearly six monthswithout setting foot in the garden. One day, however, he returned toit; it was a beauteous summer day, and Marius was joyous, as men arewhen the weather is fine. He felt as if he had in his heart all thebirds' songs that he heard, and all the patches of blue sky of which hecaught a glimpse between the leaves. He went straight to "his walk,"and when he reached the end he noticed the well-known couple seated onthe same bench; but when he drew near he found that while it was thesame man, it did not seem to be the same girl. The person he now sawwas a tall and lovely creature, possessing the charming outlines of thewoman, at the precise moment when they are still combined with the mostsimple graces of the child,--a fugitive and pure moment which can alonebe rendered by the two words "fifteen years." He saw admirable auburnhair tinted with streaks of gold, a forehead that seemed made ofmarble, cheeks that seemed made of a rose-leaf,--a pale flesh tint,--anexquisite mouth, from which a smile issued like a flash and wordslike music, and a head which Raphael would have given to a Virg
in,set upon a neck which Jean Goujon would have given to a Venus. And,that nothing might be wanting in this ravishing face, the nose was notbeautiful, but pretty, neither straight nor bent, neither Italian norGreek; it was the Parisian nose, that is to say, something witty, fine,irregular, and pure, which is the despair of painters and the charm ofpoets.
When Marius passed her he could not see her eyes, which she constantlydrooped; he only saw her long brown eyelashes, pervaded with shade andmodesty. This did not prevent the lovely girl from smiling while shelistened to the white-haired man who was speaking to her, and nothingcould be so ravishing as this fresh smile with the downcast eyes. Atthe first moment Marius thought that it was another daughter of theold gentleman's,--a sister of the former. But when the invariablehabit of his walk brought him again to the bench, and he examined herattentively, he perceived that it was the same girl. In six months thegirl had become a maiden, that was all; and nothing is more frequentthan this phenomenon. There is a moment in which girls expand inthe twinkling of an eye and all at once become roses; yesterday youleft them children, to-day, you find them objects of anxiety. Thisgirl had not only grown, but was idealized; as three days in Aprilsuffice to cover some trees with flowers, six months had sufficedto clothe her with beauty; her April had arrived. We sometimes seepoor and insignificant persons suddenly wake up, pass from indigenceto opulence, lay out money in all sorts of extravagance, and becomebrilliant, prodigal, and magnificent. The reason is that they have justreceived their dividends; and the girl had been paid six months' income.
And then she was no longer the boarding--school Miss, with her plushbonnet, merino dress, thick shoes, and red hands; taste had come to herwith beauty, and she was well dressed, with a species of simple, rich,and unaffected elegance. She wore a black brocade dress, a cloak of thesame material, and a white crape bonnet; her white gloves displayedthe elegance of her hand, which was playing with the ivory handle of aparasol, and her satin boot revealed the smallness of her foot; whenyou passed her, her whole toilette exhaled a youthful and penetratingperfume. As for the man, he was still the same. The second time thatMarius passed, the girl raised her eyelids, and he could see that hereyes were of a deep cerulean blue, but in this veiled azure there wasonly the glance of a child. She looked at Marius carelessly, as shewould have looked at the child playing under the sycamores, or themarble vase that threw a shadow over the bench; and Marius continuedhis walk, thinking of something else. He passed the bench four orfive times, but did not once turn his eyes toward the young lady. Onthe following days he returned as usual to the Luxembourg; as usualhe found the "father and daughter" there, but he paid no furtherattention to them. He thought no more of the girl now that she waslovely than he had done when she was ugly; and though he always passedvery close to the bench on which she was sitting, it was solely theresult of habit.