CHAPTER III.

  THE EFFECT OF SPRING.

  One day the air was warm, the Luxembourg was inundated with lightand shade, the sky was as pure as if the angels had washed it thatmorning, the sparrows were twittering shrilly in the foliage of thechestnut-trees, and Marius opened his whole soul to nature. He wasthinking of nothing; he loved and breathed; he passed by the bench;the young lad; raised her eyes to him and their two glances met. Whatwas there this time in her look? Marius could not have said: there wasnothing and there was everything; it was a strange flash. She let hereyes fall, and he continued his walk. What he had just seen was not thesimple and ingenuous eye of a child, but a mysterious gulf, the mouthof which had opened and then suddenly closed again. There is a day onwhich every maiden looks in this way, and woe to the man on whom herglance falls!

  This first glance of a soul which does not yet know itself is like dawnin the heavens; it is the awakening of something radiant and unknown.Nothing can express the mysterious charm of this unexpected flash whichsuddenly illumines the adorable darkness, and is composed of all theinnocence of the present and all the passion of the future. It is asort of undecided tenderness, which reveals itself accidentally andwaits; it is a snare which innocence sets unconsciously, and in whichit captures hearts without wishing or knowing it. It is a virgin wholooks at you like a woman. It is rare for a profound reverie not tospring up wherever this flame falls; all purity and all candor areblended in this heavenly and fatal beam, which possesses, more thanthe best-managed ogles of coquettes, the magic power of suddenlycausing that dangerous flower, full of perfume and poison, called love,suddenly to expand in the soul.

  On returning to his garret in the evening, Marius took a glanceat his clothes, and perceived for the first time that he had beenguilty of the extraordinary impropriety and stupidity of walkingin the Luxembourg in his "every-day dress;" that is to say, with abroken-brimmed hat, clumsy boots, black trousers white at the knees,and a black coat pale at the elbows.

  CHAPTER IV.

  BEGINNING OF A GREAT MALADY.

  The next day, at the accustomed hour, Marius took out of the drawershis new coat, his new trousers, his new hat, and his new boots;he dressed himself in this complete panoply, put on gloves,--anextraordinary luxury,--and went off to the Luxembourg. On the road hemet Courfeyrac, and pretended not to see him. Courfeyrac on reachinghome said to his friends,--

  "I have just met Marius's new hat and new coat and Marius inside them.He was going, I fancy, to pass some examination, for he looked sostupid."

  On reaching the Luxembourg Marius walked round the basin and gazedat the swans; then he stood for a long time contemplating a statueall black with mould, and which had lost one hip. Near the basin wasa comfortable bourgeois of about forty, holding by the hand a littleboy, and saying to him,--"Avoid all excesses, my son; keep at anequal distance from despotism and anarchy." Marius listened to thisbourgeois, then walked once again round the basin, and at lengthproceeded toward "his walk" slowly, and as if regretfully. He seemedto be at once forced and prevented from going, but he did not explainthis to himself, and fancied he was behaving as he did every day. Onturning into the walk he saw M. Leblanc and the young lady at the otherend, seated on "their bench." He buttoned up his coat to the top,pulled it down so that it should make no creases, examined with somecomplacency the lustre of his trousers, and marched upon the bench.There was attack in this march, and assuredly a desire for conquest,and hence I say that he marched upon this bench, as I would sayHannibal marched on Rome.

  Still, all his movements were mechanical, and he had not in any wayaltered the habitual preoccupation of his mind and labors. He wasthinking at this moment that the _Manuel de Baccalaureat_ was a stupidbook, and that it must have been edited by wondrous ignoramuses, whoanalyzed as masterpieces of the human mind three tragedies of Racineand only one comedy of Molière. He had a shrill whistling in his ear,and while approaching the bench he pulled down his coat, and his eyeswere fixed on the maiden. He fancied that she filled the whole end ofthe walk with a vague blue light. As he drew nearer his pace graduallydecreased. On coming within a certain distance of the bench, thoughstill some distance from the end of the walk, he stopped, and did notknow how it was that he turned back. The young lady was scarce able tonotice him, and see how well he looked in his new suit. Still he heldhimself very erect, for fear any one behind might be looking at him.

  He reached the opposite end, then returned, and this time approacheda little nearer to the bench. He even got within the distance ofthree trees, but then he felt an impossibility of going farther,and hesitated. He fancied he could see the young lady's face turnedtoward him; however, he made a masculine, violent effort, subdued hishesitation, and continued to advance. A few moments after he passed infront of the bench, upright and firm, but red up to the ears, and notdaring to take a glance either to the right or left, and with his handthrust into his coat like a statesman. At the moment when he passedunder the guns of the fort he felt his heart beat violently. She wasdressed as on the previous day, and he heard an ineffable voice whichmust "be her voice." She was talking quietly, and was very beautiful;he felt it, though he did not attempt to look at her, "and yet," hethought, "she could not fail to have esteem and consideration for meif she knew that I am the real author of the dissertation on MarcosObregon de La Ronda, which M. Francois de Neufchâteau appropriated, atthe beginning of his edition of _Gil Bias_."

  He passed the bench, went to the end of the walk which was close by,then turned and again passed the young lady. This time he was verypale, and his feelings were most disagreeable. He went away from thebench and the maiden, and while turning his back, he fancied that shewas looking at him, and this made him totter. He did not again attemptto pass the bench; he stopped at about the middle of the walk and thensat down,--a most unusual thing for him,--taking side glances, andthinking in the innermost depths of his mind that after all it wasdifficult for a person whose white bonnet and black dress he admired tobe absolutely insensible to his showy trousers and new coat. At the endof a quarter of an hour he rose, as if about to walk toward this benchwhich was surrounded by a glory, but he remained motionless. For thefirst time in fifteen months he said to himself that the gentleman whosat there daily with his daughter must have noticed him, and probablyconsidered his assiduity strange. For the first time, too, he feltit was rather irreverent to designate this stranger, even in his ownthoughts, by the nickname of M. Leblanc.

  He remained thus for some minutes with hanging head, making sketches inthe sand with the stick he held in his hand. Then he suddenly turned inthe direction opposed to the bench and went home. That day he forgot togo to dinner; he noticed the fact at eight in the evening, and, as itwas too late to go to the Rue St. Jacques, he ate a lump of bread. Hedid not go to bed till he had brushed and carefully folded up his coat.

  CHAPTER V.

  MAME BOUGON IS THUNDER-STRUCK,

  The next day, Mame Bougon,--it was thus that Courfeyrac called theold portress, principal lodger, and charwoman, of No. 50-52, thoughher real name was Madame Bourgon, as we have stated; but that scampof a Courfeyrac respected nothing,--Mame Bougon, to her stupefaction,noticed that Marius again went out in his best coat. He returned tothe Luxembourg, but did not go beyond his half-way bench; he sat downthere, as on the previous day, regarding from a distance, and seeingdistinctly, the white bonnet, the black dress, and, above all, theblue radiance. He did not move or return home till the gates of theLuxembourg were closed. He did not see M. Leblanc and his daughter goaway, and hence concluded that they left the garden by the gate inthe Rue de l'Ouest. Some weeks after, when reflecting on the subject,he could never remember where he dined that day. On the next day, thethird, Mame Bougon received another thunder-stroke; Marius went out inhis new coat. "Three days running!" she exclaimed. She tried to followhim, but Marius walked quickly, and with immense strides: it was ahippopotamus attempting to overtake a chamois. She lost him out ofsight in two minutes, and went back panting, t
hree parts choked by herasthma, and furious. "What sense is there," she growled, "in putting onone's best coat every day, and making people run like that!"

  Marius had gone to the Luxembourg, where M. Leblanc and the young ladywere already. Marius approached as near to them as he could, whilepretending to read his book, though still a long distance off, andthen sat down on his bench, where he spent four hours in watching thesparrows, which he fancied were ridiculing him, hopping about in thewalk. A fortnight passed in this way; Marius no longer went to theLuxembourg to walk, but always to sit down at the same spot, withoutknowing why. Arriving, he did not stir. He every morning put on his newcoat, although he did not show himself, and began again on the morrow.She was decidedly, marvellously beautiful; the sole remark resemblinga criticism that could be made was that the contradiction between herglance, which was sad, and her smile, which was joyous, gave her facea slightly startled look, which at times caused this gentle face tobecome strange without ceasing to be charming.

  CHAPTER VI.

  TAKEN PRISONER.

  On one of the last days of the second week Marius was as usual seatedon his bench, holding in his hand an open book in which he had notturned a page for several months, when he suddenly started; an eventwas occurring at the end of the walk. M. Leblanc and his daughter hadleft their bench, the girl was holding her father's arm, and both wereproceeding slowly toward the middle of the walk where Marius was. Heshut his book, then opened it again and tried to read, but he trembled,and the glory came straight toward him. "Oh, Heaven!" he thought, "Ishall not have the time to assume an attitude." The white-haired manand the girl, however, advanced; it seemed to him as if this lastedan age, and it was only a second. "What do they want here?" he askedhimself. "What! she is going to pass here; her feet will tread thissand, this walk, two paces from me!" He was quite upset; he wouldhave liked to be very handsome, and have the cross. He heard the softmeasured sound of their footsteps approaching him, and he imaginedthat M. Leblanc glanced at him irritably. "Is this gentleman going tospeak to me?" he thought. He hung his head, and when he raised itagain they were close to him. The girl passed, and in passing lookedat him,--looked at him intently, with a thoughtful gentleness whichmade Marius shudder from head to foot. It seemed to him as if shereproached him for keeping away from her so long, and was saying, "Ihave come instead." Marius was dazzled by these eyeballs full of beamsand abysses. He felt that his brain was on fire. She had come towardhim--what joy!--and then, she had looked at him. She appeared to himlovelier than she had ever been,--lovely with a beauty at once feminineand angelic, a perfect beauty, which would have made Petrarch sing andDante kneel. He felt as if he were floating in the blue sky, but at thesame time he was horribly annoyed because he had dust on his boots, andhe felt sure that she had looked at his boots too.

  He looked after her till she disappeared, and then walked about thegarden like a maniac. He probably at times laughed to himself andtalked aloud. He was so pensive near the nursery-maids that each ofthem fancied him in love with her. He quitted the Luxembourg, hopingto meet her again in the street. He met Courfeyrac under the arcadesof the Pantheon, and said to him, "Come and dine with me." They wentto Rousseau's and spent six francs. Marius ate like an ogre, and gavesix sous to the waiter. After dinner he said to Courfeyrac, "Haveyou read the papers? What a fine speech Audry de Puyraveau made!"He was distractedly in love. He then said to Courfeyrac, "Let us goto the theatre,--I'll pay." They went to the Porte St. Martin tosee Frederick in the "Auberge des Adrets," and Marius was mightilyamused. At the same time he became more virtuous than ever. On leavingthe theatre he refused to look at the garter of a dressmaker who wasstriding across a gutter, and Courfeyrac happening to say, "I shouldlike to place that woman in my collection," he almost felt horrified.Courfeyrac invited him to breakfast next morning at the Café Voltaire.He went there, and ate even more than on the previous day. He wasthoughtful and very gay, and seemed to take every opportunity to laughnoisily. A party of students collected round the table and spoke of theabsurdities paid for by the State, which are produced from the pulpitof the Sorbonne, and then the conversation turned to the faults andgaps in dictionaries. Marius interrupted the discussion by exclaiming,"And yet it is very agreeable to have the cross."

  "That is funny!" Courfeyrac whispered to Jean Prouvaire.

  "No, it is serious," the other answered.

  It was in truth serious; Marius had reached that startling and charminghour which commences great passions. A look had effected all this. Whenthe mine is loaded, when the fire is ready, nothing is more simple,and a glance is a spark. It was all over; Marius loved a woman, andhis destiny was entering the unknown. The glance of a woman resemblescertain wheels which are apparently gentle but are formidable: youdaily pass by their side with impunity, and without suspectinganything, and the moment arrives when you even forget that the thingis there. You come, you go, you dream, you speak, you laugh, and allin a minute you feel yourself caught, and it is all over with you. Thewheel holds you, the glance has caught you; it has caught, no matterwhere or how, by some part of your thought which dragged after you, orby some inattention on your part. You are lost, and your whole bodywill be drawn in; a series of mysterious forces seizes you, and youstruggle in vain, for human aid is no longer possible. You pass fromcog-wheel to cog-wheel, from agony to agony, from torture to torture,--you and your mind, your fortune, your future, and your soul; and,according as you are in the power of a wicked creature or of a nobleheart, you will issue from this frightful machinery either disfiguredby shame or transfigured by passion.

  CHAPTER VII.

  ADVENTURES OF THE LETTER "U" LEFT TO CONJECTURES.

  Isolation, separation from everything, pride, independence, a taste fornature, the absence of daily and material labor, the soul-strugglesof chastity, and his benevolent ecstasy in the presence of creation,had prepared Marius for that possession which is called passion. Hisreverence for his father had gradually become a religion, and, like allreligions, withdrew into the depths of the soul: something was wantingfor the foreground, and love came. A whole month passed, during whichMarius went daily to the Luxembourg: when the hour arrived nothingcould stop him. "He is on duty," Courfeyrac said. Marius lived inrapture, and it is certain that the young lady looked at him. In theend he had grown bolder, and went nearer the bench; still he did notpass in front of it, obeying at once the timid instincts and prudentinstincts of lovers. He thought it advisable not to attract thefather's attention, and hence arranged his stations behind trees andthe pedestals of statues, with profound Machiavellism, so as to beseen as much as possible by the young lady and as little as possibleby the old gentleman. At times he would be standing for half an hourmotionless in the shadow of some Leonidas or Spartacus, holding in onehand a book, over which his eyes, gently raised, sought the lovelygirl; and she, for her part, turned her charming profile toward himwith a vague smile. While talking most naturally and quietly with thewhite-haired man, she fixed upon Marius all the reveries of a virginaland impassioned glance. It is an old and immemorial trick which Eveknew from the first day of the world, and which every woman knows fromthe first day of her life. Her mouth replied to the one and her eyeanswered the other.

  It must be supposed, however, that M. Leblanc eventually noticedsomething, for frequently when Marius arrived he got up and beganwalking. He left their accustomed seat, and adopted at the other end ofthe walk the bench close to the Gladiator, as if to see whether Mariuswould follow them. Marius did not understand it, and committed thisfault. "The father" began to become unpunctual, and no longer brought"his daughter" every day. At times he came alone, and then Marius didnot stop, and this was another fault. Marius paid no attention to thesesymptoms: from the timid phase he had passed by a natural and fatalprogress into a blind phase. His love was growing, and he dreamed ofit every night, and then an unexpected happiness occurred to him, likeoil on fire, and redoubled the darkness over his eyes. One evening attwilight he found on the bench which "M. Leblanc and his
daughter" hadjust quitted, a simple, unembroidered handkerchief, which, however, waswhite and pure, and seemed to him to exhale ineffable odors. He seizedit with transport, and noticed that it was marked with the letters "U.F." Marius knew nothing about the lovely girl, neither her family, hername, nor her abode; these two letters were the first thing of herswhich he seized,--adorable initials, upon which he at once began toerect his scaffolding. "U" was evidently the Christian name: "Ursule!"he thought; "what a delicious name!" He kissed the handkerchief, smeltit, placed it on his heart during the day, and at night upon his lipsto go to sleep.