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雙語·歐也妮·葛朗臺 中產(chǎn)階級的面目

所屬教程:譯林版·歐也妮·葛朗臺

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2022年05月11日

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I

There are houses in certain provincial towns whose aspect inspires melancholy, akin to that called forth by sombre cloisters, dreary moorlands, or the desolation of ruins. Within these houses there is, perhaps, the silence of the cloister, the barrenness of moors, the skeleton of ruins; life and movement are so stagnant there that a stranger might think them uninhabited, were it not that he encounters suddenly the pale, cold glance of a motionless person, whose half-monastic face peers beyond the window-casing at the sound of an unaccustomed step.

Such elements of sadness formed the physiognomy, as it were, of a dwelling-house in Saumur which stands at the end of the steep street leading to the chateau in the upper part of the town. This street—now little frequented, hot in summer, cold in winter, dark in certain sections—is remarkable for the resonance of its little pebbly pavement, always clean and dry, for the narrowness of its tortuous road-way, for the peaceful stillness of its houses, which belong to the Old town and are over-topped by the ramparts.

Houses three centuries old are still solid, though built of wood, and their divers aspects add to the originality which commends this portion of Saumur to the attention of artists and antiquaries. It is difficult to pass these houses without admiring the enormous oaken beams, their ends carved into fantastic figures, which crown with a black bas-relief the lower floor of most of them.

In one place these transverse timbers are covered with slate and mark a bluish line along the frail wall of a dwelling covered by a roof en colombage which bends beneath the weight of years, and whose rotting shingles are twisted by the alternate action of sun and rain. In another place blackened, worn-out window-sills, with delicate sculptures now scarcely discernible, seem too weak to bear the brown clay pots from which springs the heart's-ease or the rose-bush of some poor working-woman. Farther on are doors studded with enormous nails, where the genius of our forefathers has traced domestic hieroglyphics, of which the meaning is now lost forever. Here a Protestant attested his belief; there a Leaguer cursed Henry IV.; elsewhere some bourgeois has carved the insignia of his noblesse de cloches, symbols of his long-forgotten magisterial glory. The whole history of France is there. Next to a tottering house with roughly plastered walls, where an artisan enshrines his tools, rises the mansion of a country gentleman, on the stone arch of which above the door vestiges of armorial bearings may still be seen, battered by the many revolutions that have shaken France since 1789.

In this hilly street the ground-floors of the merchants are neither shops nor warehouses; lovers of the Middle Ages will here find the ouvrouere of our forefathers in all its naive simplicity. These low rooms, which have no shop-frontage, no show-windows, in fact no glass at all, are deep and dark and without interior or exterior decoration. Their doors open in two parts, each roughly iron-bound;the upper half is fastened back within the room, the lower half, fitted with a spring-bell, swings continually to and fro. Air and light reach the damp den within, either through the upper half of the door, or through an open space between the ceiling and a low front wall, breast-high, which is closed by solid shutters that are taken down every morning, put up every evening, and held in place by heavy iron bars.This wall serves as a counter for the merchandise. No delusive display is there; only samples of the business, whatever it may chance to be—such, for instance, as three or four tubs full of codfish and salt, a few bundles of sail-cloth, cordage, copper wire hanging from the joists above, iron hoops for casks ranged along the wall, or a few pieces of cloth upon the shelves.

Enter. A neat girl, glowing with youth, wearing a white kerchief, her arms red and bare, drops her knitting and calls her father or her mother, one of whom comes forward and sells you what you want, phlegmatically, civilly, or arrogantly, according to his or her individual character, whether it be a matter of two sous’ or twenty thousand francs’ worth of merchandise.

You may see a cooper, for instance, sitting in his doorway and twirling his thumbs as he talks with a neighbor. To all appearance he owns nothing more than a few miserable boat-ribs and two or three bundles of laths; but below in the port his teeming wood-yard supplies all the cooperage trade of Anjou. He knows to a plank how many casks are needed if the vintage is good. A hot season makes him rich, a rainy season ruins him; in a single morning puncheons worth eleven francs have been known to drop to six.

In this country, as in Touraine, atmospheric vicissitudes control commercial life. Wine-growers, proprietors, wood-merchants, coopers, inn-keepers, mariners, all keep watch of the sun. They tremble when they go to bed lest they should hear in the morning of a frost in the night; they dread rain, wind, drought, and want water, heat, and clouds to suit their fancy. A perpetual duel goes on between the heavens and their terrestrial interests. The barometer smooths, saddens, or makes merry their countenances, turn and turn about.

From end to end of this street, formerly the Grand’Rue de Saumur, the words: “Here’s golden weather,” are passed from door to door; or each man calls to his neighbor: “It rains louis,” knowing well what a sunbeam or the opportune rainfall is bringing him. On Saturdays after midday, in the fine season, not one sou’s worth of merchandise can be bought from these worthy traders. Each has his vineyard, his enclosure of fields, and all spend two days in the country. This being foreseen, and purchases, sales, and profits provided for, the merchants have ten or twelve hours to spend in parties of pleasure, in making observations, in criticisms, and in continual spying. A housewife cannot buy a partridge without the neighbors asking the husband if it were cooked to a turn. A young girl never puts her head near a window that she is not seen by idling groups in the street. Consciences are held in the light; and the houses, dark, silent, impenetrable as they seem, hide no mysteries.

Life is almost wholly in the open air; every household sits at its own threshold, breakfasts, dines, and quarrels there. No one can pass along the street without being examined; in fact formerly, when a stranger entered a provincial town he was bantered and made game of from door to door. From this came many good stories, and the nickname copieux, which was applied to the inhabitants of Angers, who excelled in such urban sarcasms.

The ancient mansions of the old town of Saumur are at the top of this hilly street, and were formerly occupied by the nobility of the neighborhood. The melancholy dwelling where the events of the following history took place is one of these mansions—venerable relics of a century in which men and things bore the characteristics of simplicity which French manners and customs are losing day by day.

Follow the windings of the picturesque thoroughfare, whose irregularities awaken recollections that plunge the mind mechanically into reverie, and you will see a somewhat dark recess, in the centre of which is hidden the door of the house of Monsieur Grandet.

It is impossible to understand the force of this provincial expression—the house of Monsieur Grandet—without giving the biography of Monsieur Grandet himself.

Monsieur Grandet enjoyed a reputation in Saumur whose causes and effects can never be fully understood by those who have not, at one time or another, lived in the provinces. In 1789, Monsieur Grandet—still called by certain persons le Pere Grandet, though the number of such old persons has perceptibly diminished—was a master-cooper, able to read, write, and cipher. At the period when the French Republic offered for sale the church property in the arrondissement of Saumur, the cooper, then forty years of age, had just married the daughter of a rich wood-merchant. Supplied with the ready money of his own fortune and his wife’s dot, in all about two thousand louis-d’or, Grandet went to the newly established“district,” where, with the help of two hundred double louis given by his father-in-law to the surly republican who presided over the sales of the national domain, he obtained for a song, legally if not legitimately, one of the finest vineyards in the arrondissement, an old abbey, and several farms.

The inhabitants of Saumur were so little revolutionary that they thought Pere Grandet a bold man, a republican, and a patriot with a mind open to all the new ideas; though in point of fact it was open only to vineyards. He was appointed a member of the administration of Saumur, and his pacific influence made itself felt politically and commercially.

Politically, he protected the ci-devant nobles, and prevented, to the extent of his power, the sale of the lands and property of the emigres; commercially, he furnished the Republican armies with two or three thousand puncheons of white wine, and took his pay in splendid fields belonging to a community of women whose lands had been reserved for the last lot.

Under the Consulate Grandet became mayor, governed wisely, and harvested still better pickings. Under the Empire he was called Monsieur Grandet. Napoleon, however, did not like republicans, and superseded Monsieur Grandet (who was supposed to have worn the Phrygian cap) by a man of his own surroundings, a future baron of the Empire. Monsieur Grandet quitted office without regret. He had constructed in the interests of the town certain fine roads which led to his own property; his house and lands, very advantageously assessed, paid moderate taxes; and since the registration of his various estates, the vineyards, thanks to his constant care, had become the “head of the country,”—a local term used to denote those that produced the finest quality of wine. He might have asked for the cross of the Legion of honor.

This event occurred in 1806. Monsieur Grandet was then fifty-seven years of age, his wife thirty-six, and an only daughter, the fruit of their legitimate love, was ten years old.

Monsieur Grandet, whom Providence no doubt desired to compensate for the loss of his municipal honors, inherited three fortunes in the course of this year—that of Madame de la Gaudiniere, born de la Bertelliere, the mother of Madame Grandet;that of old Monsieur de la Bertelliere, her grandfather; and, lastly, that of Madame Gentillet, her grandmother on the mother’s side:three inheritances, whose amount was not known to any one. The avarice of the deceased persons was so keen that for a long time they had hoarded their money for the pleasure of secretly looking at it. Old Monsieur de la Bertelliere called an investment an extravagance, and thought he got better interest from the sight of his gold than from the profits of usury. The inhabitants of Saumur consequently estimated his savings according to “the revenues of the sun’s wealth,” as they said.

Monsieur Grandet thus obtained that modern title of nobility which our mania for equality can never rub out. He became the most imposing personage in the arrondissement. He worked a hundred acres of vineyard, which in fruitful years yielded seven or eight hundred hogsheads of wine. He owned thirteen farms, an old abbey, whose windows and arches he had walled up for the sake of economy—a measure which preserved them—also a hundred and twenty-seven acres of meadow-land, where three thousand poplars, planted in 1793, grew and flourished; and finally, the house in which he lived.

Such was his visible estate; as to his other property, only two persons could give even a vague guess at its value: one was Monsieur Cruchot, a notary employed in the usurious investments of Monsieur Grandet; the other was Monsieur des Grassins, the richest banker in Saumur, in whose profits Grandet had a certain covenanted and secret share.Although old Cruchot and Monsieur des Grassins were both gifted with the deep discretion which wealth and trust beget in the provinces, they publicly testified so much respect to Monsieur Grandet that observers estimated the amount of his property by the obsequious attention which they bestowed upon him.

In all Saumur there was no one not persuaded that Monsieur Grandet had a private treasure, some hiding-place full of louis, where he nightly took ineffable delight in gazing upon great masses of gold. Avaricious people gathered proof of this when they looked at the eyes of the good man, to which the yellow metal seemed to have conveyed its tints. The glance of a man accustomed to draw enormous interest from his capital acquires, like that of the libertine, the gambler, or the sycophant, certain indefinable habits—furtive, eager, mysterious movements, which never escape the notice of his co-religionists. This secret language is in a certain way the freemasonry of the passions.

Monsieur Grandet inspired the respectful esteem due to one who owed no man anything, who, skilful cooper and experienced wine-grower that he was, guessed with the precision of an astronomer whether he ought to manufacture a thousand puncheons for his vintage, or only five hundred, who never failed in any speculation, and always had casks for sale when casks were worth more than the commodity that filled them, who could store his whole vintage in his cellars and bide his time to put the puncheons on the market at two hundred francs, when the little proprietors had been forced to sell theirs for five louis. His famous vintage of 1811, judiciously stored and slowly disposed of, brought him in more than two hundred and forty thousand francs. Financially speaking, Monsieur Grandet was something between a tiger and a boa-constrictor. He could crouch and lie low, watch his prey a long while, spring upon it, open his jaws, swallow a mass of louis, and then rest tranquilly like a snake in process of digestion, impassible, methodical, and cold.

No one saw him pass without a feeling of admiration mingled with respect and fear; had not every man in Saumur felt the rending of those polished steel claws? For this one, Maitre Cruchot had procured the money required for the purchase of a domain, but at eleven per cent. For that one, Monsieur des Grassins discounted bills of exchange, but at a frightful deduction of interest. Few days ever passed that Monsieur Grandet’s name was not mentioned either in the markets or in social conversations at the evening gatherings. To some the fortune of the old wine-grower was an object of patriotic pride. More than one merchant, more than one innkeeper, said to strangers with a certain complacency: “Monsieur, we have two or three millionaire establishments; but as for Monsieur Grandet, he does not himself know how much he is worth.”

In 1816 the best reckoners in Saumur estimated the landed property of the worthy man at nearly four millions; but as, on an average, he had made yearly, from 1793 to 1817, a hundred thousand francs out of that property, it was fair to presume that he possessed in actual money a sum nearly equal to the value of his estate. So that when, after a game of boston or an evening discussion on the matter of vines, the talk fell upon Monsieur Grandet, knowing people said:“Le Pere Grandet? Le Pere Grandet must have at least five or six millions.”

“You are cleverer than I am; I have never been able to find out the amount,” answered Monsieur Cruchot or Monsieur des Grassins, when either chanced to overhear the remark.If some Parisian mentioned Rothschild or Monsieur Lafitte, the people of Saumur asked if he were as rich as Monsieur Grandet. When the Parisian, with a smile, tossed them a disdainful affirmative, they looked at each other and shook their heads with an incredulous air.

So large a fortune covered with a golden mantle all the actions of this man. If in early days some peculiarities of his life gave occasion for laughter or ridicule, laughter and ridicule had long since died away. His least important actions had the authority of results repeatedly shown. His speech, his clothing, his gestures, the blinking of his eyes, were law to the country-side, where every one, after studying him as a naturalist studies the result of instinct in the lower animals, had come to understand the deep mute wisdom of his slightest actions.

“It will be a hard winter,” said one; “Pere Grandet has put on his fur gloves.”

“Pere Grandet is buying quantities of staves; there will be plenty of wine this year.”

Monsieur Grandet never bought either bread or meat. His farmers supplied him weekly with a sufficiency of capons, chickens, eggs, butter, and his tithe of wheat. He owned a mill; and the tenant was bound, over and above his rent, to take a certain quantity of grain and return him the flour and bran. La Grande Nanon, his only servant, though she was no longer young, baked the bread of the household herself every Saturday. Monsieur Grandet arranged with kitchen-gardeners who were his tenants to supply him with vegetables. As to fruits, he gathered such quantities that he sold the greater part in the market. His fire-wood was cut from his own hedgerows or taken from the half-rotten old sheds which he built at the corners of his fields, and whose planks the farmers carted into town for him, all cut up, and obligingly stacked in his wood-house, receiving in return his thanks. His only known expenditures were for the consecrated bread, the clothing of his wife and daughter, the hire of their chairs in church, the wages of la Grand Nanon, the tinning of the saucepans, lights, taxes, repairs on his buildings, and the costs of his various industries. He had six hundred acres of woodland, lately purchased, which he induced a neighbor’s keeper to watch, under the promise of an indemnity. After the acquisition of this property he ate game for the first time.

Monsieur Grandet’s manners were very simple. He spoke little. He usually expressed his meaning by short sententious phrases uttered in a soft voice. After the Revolution, the epoch at which he first came into notice, the good man stuttered in a wearisome way as soon as he was required to speak at length or to maintain an argument. This stammering, the incoherence of his language, the flux of words in which he drowned his thought, his apparent lack of logic, attributed to defects of education, were in reality assumed, and will be sufficiently explained by certain events in the following history. Four sentences, precise as algebraic formulas, sufficed him usually to grasp and solve all difficulties of life and commerce: “I don’t know; I cannot; I will not; I will see about it.”

He never said yes, or no, and never committed himself to writing. If people talked to him he listened coldly, holding his chin in his right hand and resting his right elbow in the back of his left hand, forming in his own mind opinions on all matters, from which he never receded. He reflected long before making any business agreement. When his opponent, after careful conversation, avowed the secret of his own purposes, confident that he had secured his listener’s assent, Grandet answered: “I can decide nothing without consulting my wife.”

His wife, whom he had reduced to a state of helpless slavery, was a useful screen to him in business. He went nowhere among friends; he neither gave nor accepted dinners; he made no stir or noise, seeming to economize in everything, even movement. He never disturbed or disarranged the things of other people, out of respect for the rights of property.

Nevertheless, in spite of his soft voice, in spite of his circumspect bearing, the language and habits of a coarse nature came to the surface, especially in his own home, where he controlled himself less than elsewhere.

Physically, Grandet was a man five feet high, thick-set, square-built, with calves twelve inches in circumference, knotted knee-joints, and broad shoulders; his face was round, tanned, and pitted by the small-pox; his chin was straight, his lips had no curves, his teeth were white; his eyes had that calm, devouring expression which people attribute to the basilisk; his forehead, full of transverse wrinkles, was not without certain significant protuberances; his yellow-grayish hair was said to be silver and gold by certain young people who did not realize the impropriety of making a jest about Monsieur Grandet. His nose, thick at the end, bore a veined wen, which the common people said, not without reason, was full of malice. The whole countenance showed a dangerous cunning, an integrity without warmth, the egotism of a man long used to concentrate every feeling upon the enjoyments of avarice and upon the only human being who was anything whatever to him—his daughter and sole heiress, Eugenie. Attitude, manners, bearing, everything about him, in short, testified to that belief in himself which the habit of succeeding in all enterprises never fails to give to a man.

Thus, though his manners were unctuous and soft outwardly, Monsieur Grandet’s nature was of iron. His dress never varied;and those who saw him to-day saw him such as he had been since 1791. His stout shoes were tied with leathern thongs; he wore, in all weathers, thick woollen stockings, short breeches of coarse maroon cloth with silver buckles, a velvet waistcoat, in alternate stripes of yellow and puce, buttoned squarely, a large maroon coat with wide flaps, a black cravat, and a quaker’s hat. His gloves, thick as those of a gendarme, lasted him twenty months; to preserve them, he always laid them methodically on the brim of his hat in one particular spot.

Saumur knew nothing further about this personage.

Only six individuals had a right of entrance to Monsieur Grandet’s house. The most important of the first three was a nephew of Monsieur Cruchot. Since his appointment as president of the Civil courts of Saumur this young man had added the name of Bonfons to that of Cruchot. He now signed himself C. de Bonfons. Any litigant so ill-advised as to call him Monsieur Cruchot would soon be made to feel his folly in court. The magistrate protected those who called him Monsieur le president, but he favored with gracious smiles those who addressed him as Monsieur de Bonfons. Monsieur le president was thirty-three years old, and possessed the estate of Bonfons (Boni Fontis), worth seven thousand francs a year; he expected to inherit the property of his uncle the notary and that of another uncle, the Abbe Cruchot, a dignitary of the chapter of Saint-Martin de Tours, both of whom were thought to be very rich. These three Cruchots, backed by a goodly number of cousins, and allied to twenty families in the town, formed a party, like the Medici in Florence; like the Medici, the Cruchots had their Pazzi.

Madame des Grassins, mother of a son twenty-three years of age, came assiduously to play cards with Madame Grandet, hoping to marry her dear Adolphe to Mademoiselle Eugenie. Monsieur des Grassins, the banker, vigorously promoted the schemes of his wife by means of secret services constantly rendered to the old miser, and always arrived in time upon the field of battle. The three des Grassins likewise had their adherents, their cousins, their faithful allies.

On the Cruchot side the abbe, the Talleyrand of the family, well backed-up by his brother the notary, sharply contested every inch of ground with his female adversary, and tried to obtain the rich heiress for his nephew the president.This secret warfare between the Cruchots and des Grassins, the prize thereof being the hand in marriage of Eugenie Grandet, kept the various social circles of Saumur in violent agitation. Would Mademoiselle Grandet marry Monsieur le president or Monsieur Adolphe des Grassins?

To this problem some replied that Monsieur Grandet would never give his daughter to the one or to the other. The old cooper, eaten up with ambition, was looking, they said, for a peer of France, to whom an income of three hundred thousand francs would make all the past, present, and future casks of the Grandets acceptable. Others replied that Monsieur and Madame des Grassins were nobles, and exceedingly rich; that Adolphe was a personable young fellow;and that unless the old man had a nephew of the pope at his beck and call, such a suitable alliance ought to satisfy a man who came from nothing—a man whom Saumur remembered with an adze in his hand, and who had, moreover, worn the bonnet rouge. Certain wise heads called attention to the fact that Monsieur Cruchot de Bonfons had the right of entry to the house at all times, whereas his rival was received only on Sundays. Others, however, maintained that Madame des Grassins was more intimate with the women of the house of Grandet than the Cruchots were, and could put into their minds certain ideas which would lead, sooner or later, to success. To this the former retorted that the Abbe Cruchot was the most insinuating man in the world: pit a woman against a monk, and the struggle was even. “It is diamond cut diamond,” said a Saumur wit.

The oldest inhabitants, wiser than their fellows, declared that the Grandets knew better than to let the property go out of the family, and that Mademoiselle Eugenie Grandet of Saumur would be married to the son of Monsieur Grandet of Paris, a wealthy wholesale wine-merchant. To this the Cruchotines and the Grassinists replied: “In the first place, the two brothers have seen each other only twice in thirty years; and next, Monsieur Grandet of Paris has ambitious designs for his son. He is mayor of an arrondissement, a deputy, colonel of the National Guard, judge in the commercial courts; he disowns the Grandets of Saumur, and means to ally himself with some ducal family—ducal under favor of Napoleon.”

In short, was there anything not said of an heiress who was talked of through a circumference of fifty miles, and even in the public conveyances from Angers to Blois, inclusively!

At the beginning of 1811, the Cruchotines won a signal advantage over the Grassinists. The estate of Froidfond, remarkable for its park, its mansion, its farms, streams, ponds, forests, and worth about three millions, was put up for sale by the young Marquis de Froidfond, who was obliged to liquidate his possessions. Maitre Cruchot, the president, and the abbe, aided by their adherents, were able to prevent the sale of the estate in little lots. The notary concluded a bargain with the young man for the whole property, payable in gold, persuading him that suits without number would have to be brought against the purchasers of small lots before he could get the money for them; it was better, therefore, to sell the whole to Monsieur Grandet, who was solvent and able to pay for the estate in ready money. The fine marquisate of Froidfond was accordingly conveyed down the gullet of Monsieur Grandet, who, to the great astonishment of Saumur, paid for it, under proper discount, with the usual formalities.This affair echoed from Nantes to Orleans.

Monsieur Grandet took advantage of a cart returning by way of Froidfond to go and see his chateau. Having cast a master’s eye over the whole property, he returned to Saumur, satisfied that he had invested his money at five per cent, and seized by the stupendous thought of extending and increasing the marquisate of Froidfond by concentrating all his property there. Then, to fill up his coffers, now nearly empty, he resolved to thin out his woods and his forests, and to sell off the poplars in the meadows.

It is now easy to understand the full meaning of the term, “the house of Monsieur Grandet,”—that cold, silent, pallid dwelling, standing above the town and sheltered by the ruins of the ramparts.

The two pillars and the arch, which made the porte-cochere on which the door opened, were built, like the house itself, of tufa—a white stone peculiar to the shores of the Loire, and so soft that it lasts hardly more than two centuries. Numberless irregular holes, capriciously bored or eaten out by the inclemency of the weather, gave an appearance of the vermiculated stonework of French architecture to the arch and the side walls of this entrance, which bore some resemblance to the gateway of a jail. Above the arch was a long bas-relief, in hard stone, representing the four seasons, the faces already crumbling away and blackened. This bas-relief was surmounted by a projecting plinth, upon which a variety of chance growths had sprung up—yellow pellitory, bindweed, convolvuli, nettles, plantain, and even a little cherry-tree, already grown to some height.

The door of the archway was made of solid oak, brown, shrunken, and split in many places; though frail in appearance, it was firmly held in place by a system of iron bolts arranged in symmetrical patterns. A small square grating, with close bars red with rust, filled up the middle panel and made, as it were, a motive for the knocker, fastened to it by a ring, which struck upon the grinning head of a huge nail. This knocker, of the oblong shape and kind which our ancestors calledjaquemart, looked like a huge note of exclamation; an antiquary who examined it attentively might have found indications of the figure, essentially burlesque, which it once represented, and which long usage had now effaced.

Through this little grating—intended in olden times for the recognition of friends in times of civil war—inquisitive persons could perceive, at the farther end of the dark and slimy vault, a few broken steps which led to a garden, picturesquely shut in by walls that were thick and damp, and through which oozed a moisture that nourished tufts of sickly herbage. These walls were the ruins of the ramparts, under which ranged the gardens of several neighboring houses.

The most important room on the ground-floor of the house was a large hall, entered directly from beneath the vault of the porte-cochere. Few people know the importance of a hall in the little towns of Anjou, Touraine, and Berry. The hall is at one and the same time antechamber, salon, office, boudoir, and dining-room; it is the theatre of domestic life, the common living-room. There the barber of the neighborhood came, twice a year, to cut Monsieur Grandet’s hair; there the farmers, the cure, the under-prefect, and the miller’s boy came on business. This room, with two windows looking on the street, was entirely of wood. Gray panels with ancient mouldings covered the walls from top to bottom; the ceiling showed all its beams, which were likewise painted gray, while the space between them had been washed over in white, now yellow with age.

An old brass clock, inlaid with arabesques, adorned the mantel of the ill-cut white stone chimney-piece, above which was a greenish mirror, whose edges, bevelled to show the thickness of the glass, reflected a thread of light the whole length of a gothic frame in damascened steel-work. The two copper-gilt candelabra which decorated the corners of the chimney-piece served a double purpose:by taking off the side-branches, each of which held a socket, the main stem—which was fastened to a pedestal of bluish marble tipped with copper—made a candlestick for one candle, which was sufficient for ordinary occasions.

The chairs, antique in shape, were covered with tapestry representing the fables of La Fontaine; it was necessary, however, to know that writer well to guess at the subjects, for the faded colors and the figures, blurred by much darning, were difficult to distinguish.At the four corners of the hall were closets, or rather buffets, surmounted by dirty shelves. An old card-table in marquetry, of which the upper part was a chess-board, stood in the space between the two windows. Above this table was an oval barometer with a black border enlivened with gilt bands, on which the flies had so licentiously disported themselves that the gilding had become problematical.

On the panel opposite to the chimney-piece were two portraits in pastel, supposed to represent the grandfather of Madame Grandet, old Monsieur de la Bertelliere, as a lieutenant in the French guard, and the deceased Madame Gentillet in the guise of a shepherdess. The windows were draped with curtains of red gros de Tours held back by silken cords with ecclesiastical tassels. This luxurious decoration, little in keeping with the habits of Monsieur Grandet, had been, together with the steel pier-glass, the tapestries, and the buffets, which were of rose-wood, included in the purchase of the house.

By the window nearest to the door stood a straw chair, whose legs were raised on castors to lift its occupant, Madame Grandet, to a height from which she could see the passers-by. A work-table of stained cherry-wood filled up the embrasure, and the little armchair of Eugenie Grandet stood beside it.

In this spot the lives had flowed peacefully onward for fifteen years, in a round of constant work from the month of April to the month of November. On the first day of the latter month they took their winter station by the chimney. Not until that day did Grandet permit a fire to be lighted; and on the thirty-first of March it was extinguished, without regard either to the chills of the early spring or to those of a wintry autumn. A foot-warmer, filled with embers from the kitchen fire, which la Grande Nanon contrived to save for them, enabled Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet to bear the chilly mornings and evenings of April and October.

Mother and daughter took charge of the family linen, and spent their days so conscientiously upon a labor properly that of working-women, that if Eugenie wished to embroider a collar for her mother she was forced to take the time from sleep, and deceive her father to obtain the necessary light. For a long time the miser had given out the tallow candle to his daughter and la Grande Nanon just as he gave out every morning the bread and other necessaries for the daily consumption.

La Grande Nanon was perhaps the only human being capable of accepting willingly the despotism of her master. The whole town envied Monsieur and Madame Grandet the possession of her. La Grande Nanon, so called on account of her height, which was five feet eight inches, had lived with Monsieur Grandet for thirty-five years. Though she received only sixty francs a year in wages, she was supposed to be one of the richest serving-women in Saumur. Those sixty francs, accumulating through thirty-five years, had recently enabled her to invest four thousand francs in an annuity with Maitre Cruchot. This result of her long and persistent economy seemed gigantic. Every servant in the town, seeing that the poor sexagenarian was sure of bread for her old age, was jealous of her, and never thought of the hard slavery through which it had been won.

At twenty-two years of age the poor girl had been unable to find a situation, so repulsive was her face to almost every one. Yet the feeling was certainly unjust: the face would have been much admired on the shoulders of a grenadier of the guard; but all things, so they say, should be in keeping. Forced to leave a farm where she kept the cows, because the dwelling-house was burned down, she came to Saumur to find a place, full of the robust courage that shrinks from no labor.

Le Pere Grandet was at that time thinking of marriage and about to set up his household. He espied the girl, rejected as she was from door to door. A good judge of corporeal strength in his trade as a cooper, he guessed the work that might be got out of a female creature shaped like a Hercules, as firm on her feet as an oak sixty years old on its roots, strong in the hips, square in the back, with the hands of a cartman and an honesty as sound as her unblemished virtue. Neither the warts which adorned her martial visage, nor the red-brick tints of her skin, nor the sinewy arms, nor the ragged garments of la Grande Nanon, dismayed the cooper, who was at that time still of an age when the heart shudders. He fed, shod, and clothed the poor girl, gave her wages, and put her to work without treating her too roughly.

Seeing herself thus welcomed, la Grande Nanon wept secretly tears of joy, and attached herself in all sincerity to her master, who from that day ruled her and worked her with feudal authority. Nanon did everything. She cooked, she made the lye, she washed the linen in the Loire and brought it home on her shoulders; she got up early, she went to bed late; she prepared the food of the vine-dressers during the harvest, kept watch upon the market-people, protected the property of her master like a faithful dog, and even, full of blind confidence, obeyed without a murmur his most absurd exactions. In the famous year of 1811, when the grapes were gathered with unheard-of difficulties, Grandet resolved to give Nanon his old watch—the first present he had made her during twenty years of service. Though he turned over to her his old shoes (which fitted her), it is impossible to consider that quarterly benefit as a gift, for the shoes were always thoroughly worn-out. Necessity had made the poor girl so niggardly that Grandet had grown to love her as we love a dog, and Nanon had let him fasten a spiked collar round her throat, whose spikes no longer pricked her.

If Grandet cut the bread with rather too much parsimony, she made no complaint; she gaily shared the hygienic benefits derived from the severe regime of the household, in which no one was ever ill. Nanon was, in fact, one of the family; she laughed when Grandet laughed, felt gloomy or chilly, warmed herself, and toiled as he did. What pleasant compensations there were in such equality! Never did the master have occasion to find fault with the servant for pilfering the grapes, nor for the plums and nectarines eaten under the trees.

“Come, fall to, Nanon!” he would say in years when the branches bent under the fruit and the farmers were obliged to give it to the pigs.

To the poor peasant who in her youth had earned nothing but harsh treatment, to the pauper girl picked up by charity, Grandet’s ambiguous laugh was like a sunbeam. Moreover, Nanon’s simple heart and narrow head could hold only one feeling and one idea. For thirty-five years she had never ceased to see herself standing before the wood-yard of Monsieur Grandet, ragged and barefooted, and to hear him say: “What do you want, young one?” Her gratitude was ever new.

Sometimes Grandet, reflecting that the poor creature had never heard a flattering word, that she was ignorant of all the tender sentiments inspired by women, that she might some day appear before the throne of God even more chaste than the Virgin Mary herself—Grandet, struck with pity, would say as he looked at her,“Poor Nanon!”

The exclamation was always followed by an undefinable look cast upon him in return by the old servant. The words, uttered from time to time, formed a chain of friendship that nothing ever parted, and to which each exclamation added a link. Such compassion arising in the heart of the miser, and accepted gratefully by the old spinster, had something inconceivably horrible about it. This cruel pity, recalling, as it did, a thousand pleasures to the heart of the old cooper, was for Nanon the sum total of happiness. Who does not likewise say, “Poor Nanon!” God will recognize his angels by the inflexions of their voices and by their secret sighs.

There were very many households in Saumur where the servants were better treated, but where the masters received far less satisfaction in return. Thus it was often said: “What have the Grandets ever done to make their Grande Nanon so attached to them? She would go through fire and water for their sake!”

Her kitchen, whose barred windows looked into the court, was always clean, neat, cold—a true miser’s kitchen, where nothing went to waste. When Nanon had washed her dishes, locked up the remains of the dinner, and put out her fire, she left the kitchen, which was separated by a passage from the living-room, and went to spin hemp beside her masters. One tallow candle sufficed the family for the evening. The servant slept at the end of the passage in a species of closet lighted only by a fan-light. Her robust health enabled her to live in this hole with impunity; there she could hear the slightest noise through the deep silence which reigned night and day in that dreary house. Like a watch-dog, she slept with one ear open, and took her rest with a mind alert.

A description of the other parts of the dwelling will be found connected with the events of this history, though the foregoing sketch of the hall, where the whole luxury of the household appears, may enable the reader to surmise the nakedness of the upper floors.

In 1819, at the beginning of an evening in the middle of November, la Grande Nanon lighted the fire for the first time. The autumn had been very fine. This particular day was a fete-day well known to the Cruchotines and the Grassinists. The six antagonists, armed at all points, were making ready to meet at the Grandets and surpass each other in testimonials of friendship.

That morning all Saumur had seen Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet, accompanied by Nanon, on their way to hear Mass at the parish church, and every one remembered that the day was the anniversary of Mademoiselle Eugenie’s birth. Calculating the hour at which the family dinner would be over, Maitre Cruchot, the Abbe Cruchot, and Monsieur C. de Bonfons hastened to arrive before the des Grassins, and be the first to pay their compliments to Mademoiselle Eugenie. All three brought enormous bouquets, gathered in their little green-houses. The stalks of the flowers which the president intended to present were ingeniously wound round with a white satin ribbon adorned with gold fringe.

In the morning Monsieur Grandet, following his usual custom on the days that commemorated the birth and the fete of Eugenie, went to her bedside and solemnly presented her with his paternal gift—which for the last thirteen years had consisted regularly of a curious gold-piece.

Madame Grandet gave her daughter a winter dress or a summer dress, as the case might be. These two dresses and the gold-pieces, of which she received two others on New Year’s day and on her father’s fete-day, gave Eugenie a little revenue of a hundred crowns or thereabouts, which Grandet loved to see her amass. Was it not putting his money from one strong-box to another, and, as it were, training the parsimony of his heiress? from whom he sometimes demanded an account of her treasure (formerly increased by the gifts of the Bertellieres), saying: “It is to be your marriage dozen.”

The “marriage dozen” is an old custom sacredly preserved and still in force in many parts of central France. In Berry and in Anjou,when a young girl marries, her family, or that of the husband, must give her a purse, in which they place, according to their means, twelve pieces, or twelve dozen pieces, or twelve hundred pieces of gold. The poorest shepherd-girl never marries without her dozen, be it only a dozen coppers. They still tell in Issoudun of a certain“dozen” presented to a rich heiress, which contained a hundred and forty-four portugaises d’or. Pope Clement VII., uncle of Catherine de’ Medici, gave her when he married her to Henri II. a dozen antique gold medals of priceless value.

During dinner the father, delighted to see his Eugenie looking well in a new gown, exclaimed: “As it is Eugenie’s birthday let us have a fire; it will be a good omen.”

“Mademoiselle will be married this year, that’s certain,” said la Grande Nanon, carrying away the remains of the goose—the pheasant of tradesmen.

“I don’t see any one suitable for her in Saumur,” said Madame Grandet, glancing at her husband with a timid look which, considering her years, revealed the conjugal slavery under which the poor woman languished.

Grandet looked at his daughter and exclaimed gaily—

“She is twenty-three years old to-day, the child; we must soon begin to think of it.”

Eugenie and her mother silently exchanged a glance of intelligence.

Madame Grandet was a dry, thin woman, as yellow as a quince, awkward, slow, one of those women who are born to be down-trodden. She had big bones, a big nose, a big forehead, big eyes, and presented at first sight a vague resemblance to those mealy fruits that have neither savor nor succulence. Her teeth were black and few in number, her mouth was wrinkled, her chin long and pointed. She was an excellent woman, a true la Bertelliere. L’abbe Cruchot found occasional opportunity to tell her that she had not done ill;and she believed him. Angelic sweetness, the resignation of an insect tortured by children, a rare piety, a good heart, an unalterable equanimity of soul, made her universally pitied and respected.

Her husband never gave her more than six francs at a time for her personal expenses. Ridiculous as it may seem, this woman, who by her own fortune and her various inheritances brought Pere Grandet more than three hundred thousand francs, had always felt so profoundly humiliated by her dependence and the slavery in which she lived, against which the gentleness of her spirit prevented her from revolting, that she had never asked for one penny or made a single remark on the deeds which Maitre Cruchot brought for her signature. This foolish secret pride, this nobility of soul perpetually misunderstood and wounded by Grandet, ruled the whole conduct of the wife.

Madame Grandet was attired habitually in a gown of greenish levantine silk, endeavoring to make it last nearly a year; with it she wore a large kerchief of white cotton cloth, a bonnet made of plaited straws sewn together, and almost always a black-silk apron. As she seldom left the house she wore out very few shoes. She never asked anything for herself.

Grandet, seized with occasional remorse when he remembered how long a time had elapsed since he gave her the last six francs, always stipulated for the “wife’s pin-money” when he sold his yearly vintage. The four or five louis presented by the Belgian or the Dutchman who purchased the wine were the chief visible signs of Madame Grandet’s annual revenues.

But after she had received the five louis, her husband would often say to her, as though their purse were held in common: “Can you lend me a few sous?” and the poor woman, glad to be able to do something for a man whom her confessor held up to her as her lord and master, returned him in the course of the winter several crowns out of the “pin-money.”

When Grandet drew from his pocket the five-franc piece which he allowed monthly for the minor expenses—thread, needles, and toilet—of his daughter, he never failed to say as he buttoned his breeches’ pocket: “And you, mother, do you want anything?”

“My friend,” Madame Grandet would answer, moved by a sense of maternal dignity, “we will see about that later.”

Wasted dignity! Grandet thought himself very generous to his wife. Philosophers who meet the like of Nanon, of Madame Grandet, of Eugenie, have surely a right to say that irony is at the bottom of the ways of Providence.

After the dinner at which for the first time allusion had been made to Eugenie’s marriage, Nanon went to fetch a bottle of black-currant ratafia from Monsieur Grandet’s bed-chamber, and nearly fell as she came down the stairs.

“You great stupid!” said her master; “are you going to tumble about like other people, hey?”

“Monsieur, it was that step on your staircase which has given way.”

“She is right,” said Madame Grandet; “it ought to have been mended long ago. Yesterday Eugenie nearly twisted her ankle.”

“Here,” said Grandet to Nanon, seeing that she looked quite pale, “as it is Eugenie’s birthday, and you came near falling, take a little glass of ratafia to set you right.”

“Faith! I’ve earned it,” said Nanon; “most people would have broken the bottle; but I’d sooner have broken my elbow holding it up high.”

“Poor Nanon!” said Grandet, filling a glass.

“Did you hurt yourself?” asked Eugenie, looking kindly at her.

“No, I didn’t fall; I threw myself back on my haunches.”

“Well! as it is Eugenie’s birthday,” said Grandet, “I’ll have the step mended. You people don’t know how to set your foot in the corner where the wood is still firm.”

Grandet took the candle, leaving his wife, daughter, and servant without any other light than that from the hearth, where the flames were lively, and went into the bakehouse to fetch planks, nails, and tools.

“Can I help you?” cried Nanon, hearing him hammer on the stairs.

“No, no! I’m an old hand at it,” answered the former cooper.

At the moment when Grandet was mending his worm-eaten staircase and whistling with all his might, in remembrance of the days of his youth, the three Cruchots knocked at the door.

“Is it you, Monsieur Cruchot?” asked Nanon, peeping through the little grating.

“Yes,” answered the president.

Nanon opened the door, and the light from the hearth, reflected on the ceiling, enabled the three Cruchots to find their way into the room.

“Ha! you’ve come a-greeting,” said Nanon, smelling the flowers.

“Excuse me, messieurs,” cried Grandet, recognizing their voices; “I’ll be with you in a moment. I’m not proud; I am patching up a step on my staircase.”

“Go on, go on, Monsieur Grandet; a man’s house is his castle,”said the president sententiously.

Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet rose. The president, profiting by the darkness, said to Eugenie:

“Will you permit me, mademoiselle, to wish you, on this the day of your birth, a series of happy years and the continuance of the health which you now enjoy?”

He offered her a huge bouquet of choice flowers which were rare in Saumur; then, taking the heiress by the elbows, he kissed her on each side of her neck with a complacency that made her blush. The president, who looked like a rusty iron nail, felt that his courtship was progressing.

“Don’t stand on ceremony,” said Grandet, entering. “How well you do things on fete-days, Monsieur le president!”

“When it concerns mademoiselle,” said the abbe, armed with his own bouquet, “every day is a fete-day for my nephew.”

The abbe kissed Eugenie’s hand. As for Maitre Cruchot, he boldly kissed her on both cheeks, remarking: “How we sprout up, to be sure! Every year is twelve months.”

As he replaced the candlestick beside the clock, Grandet, who never forgot his own jokes, and repeated them to satiety when he thought them funny, said—

“As this is Eugenie’s birthday let us illuminate.”

He carefully took off the branches of the candelabra, put a socket on each pedestal, took from Nanon a new tallow candle with paper twisted round the end of it, put it into the hollow, made it firm, lit it, and then sat down beside his wife, looking alternately at his friends, his daughter, and the two candles. The Abbe Cruchot, a plump, puffy little man, with a red wig plastered down and a face like an old female gambler, said as he stretched out his feet, well shod in stout shoes with silver buckles: “The des Grassins have not come?”

“Not yet,” said Grandet.

“But are they coming?” asked the old notary, twisting his face, which had as many holes as a collander, into a queer grimace.

“I think so,” answered Madame Grandet.

“Are your vintages all finished?” said Monsieur de Bonfons to Grandet.

“Yes, all of them,” said the old man, rising to walk up and down the room, his chest swelling with pride as he said the words, “all of them.”

Through the door of the passage which led to the kitchen he saw la Grande Nanon sitting beside her fire with a candle and preparing to spin there, so as not to intrude among the guests.

“Nanon,” he said, going into the passage, “put out that fire and that candle, and come and sit with us. Pardieu! the hall is big enough for all.”

“But monsieur, you are to have the great people.”

“Are not you as good as they? They are descended from Adam, and so are you.”

Grandet came back to the president and said—

“Have you sold your vintage?”

“No, not I; I shall keep it. If the wine is good this year, it will be better two years hence. The proprietors, you know, have made an agreement to keep up the price; and this year the Belgians won’t get the better of us. Suppose they are sent off empty-handed for once, faith! they’ll come back.”

“Yes, but let us mind what we are about,” said Grandet in a tone which made the president tremble.

“Is he driving some bargain?” thought Cruchot.

At this moment the knocker announced the des Grassins family, and their arrival interrupted a conversation which had begun between Madame Grandet and the abbe.

Madame des Grassins was one of those lively, plump little women, with pink-and-white skins, who, thanks to the claustral calm of the provinces and the habits of a virtuous life, keep their youth until they are past forty. She was like the last rose of autumn—pleasant to the eye, though the petals have a certain frostiness, and their perfume is slight. She dressed well, got her fashions from Paris, set the tone to Saumur, and gave parties.

Her husband, formerly a quartermaster in the Imperial guard, who had been desperately wounded at Austerlitz, and had since retired, still retained, in spite of his respect for Grandet, the seeming frankness of an old soldier.

“Good evening, Grandet,” he said, holding out his hand and affecting a sort of superiority, with which he always crushed the Cruchots. “Mademoiselle,” he added, turning to Eugenie, after bowing to Madame Grandet, “you are always beautiful and good, and truly I do not know what to wish you.”

So saying, he offered her a little box which his servant had brought and which contained a Cape heather—a flower lately imported into Europe and very rare.

Madame des Grassins kissed Eugenie very affectionately, pressed her hand, and said: “Adolphe wishes to make you my little offering.”

A tall, blond young man, pale and slight, with tolerable manners and seemingly rather shy, although he had just spent eight or ten thousand francs over his allowance in Paris, where he had been sent to study law, now came forward and kissed Eugenie on both cheeks, offering her a workbox with utensils in silver-gilt—mere show-case trumpery, in spite of the monogram E.G. in gothic letters rather well engraved, which belonged properly to something in better taste.

As she opened it, Eugenie experienced one of those unexpected and perfect delights which make a young girl blush and quiver and tremble with pleasure. She turned her eyes to her father as if to ask permission to accept it, and Monsieur Grandet replied: “Take it, my daughter,” in a tone which would have made an actor illustrious.

The three Cruchots felt crushed as they saw the joyous, animated look cast upon Adolphe des Grassins by the heiress, to whom such riches were unheard-of. Monsieur des Grassins offered Grandet a pinch of snuff, took one himself, shook off the grains as they fell on the ribbon of the Legion of honor which was attached to the button-hole of his blue surtout; then he looked at the Cruchots with an air that seemed to say, “Parry that thrust if you can!”

Madame des Grassins cast her eyes on the blue vases which held the Cruchot bouquets, looking at the enemy’s gifts with the pretended interest of a satirical woman. At this delicate juncture the Abbe Cruchot left the company seated in a circle round the fire and joined Grandet at the lower end of the hall. As the two men reached the embrasure of the farthest window the priest said in the miser’s ear: “Those people throw money out of the windows.”

“What does that matter if it gets into my cellar?” retorted the old wine-grower.

“If you want to give gilt scissors to your daughter, you have the means,” said the abbe.

“I give her something better than scissors,” answered Grandet.

“My nephew is a blockhead,” thought the abbe as he looked at the president, whose rumpled hair added to the ill grace of his brown countenance. “Couldn’t he have found some little trifle which cost money?”

“We will join you at cards, Madame Grandet,” said Madame des Grassins.

“We might have two tables, as we are all here.”

“As it is Eugenie’s birthday you had better play loto all together,” said Pere Grandet: “the two young ones can join”; and the old cooper, who never played any game, motioned to his daughter and Adolphe. “Come, Nanon, set the tables.”

“We will help you, Mademoiselle Nanon,” said Madame des Grassins gaily, quite joyous at the joy she had given Eugenie.

“I have never in my life been so pleased,” the heiress said to her; “I have never seen anything so pretty.”

“Adolphe brought it from Paris, and he chose it,” Madame des Grassins whispered in her ear.

“Go on! go on! damned intriguing thing!” thought the president.“If you ever have a suit in court, you or your husband, it shall go hard with you.”

The notary, sitting in his corner, looked calmly at the abbe, saying to himself: “The des Grassins may do what they like; my property and my brother’s and that of my nephew amount in all to eleven hundred thousand francs. The des Grassins, at the most, have not half that; besides, they have a daughter. They may give what presents they like; heiress and presents too will be ours one of these days.”

At half-past eight in the evening the two card-tables were set out. Madame des Grassins succeeded in putting her son beside Eugenie. The actors in this scene, so full of interest, commonplace as it seems, were provided with bits of pasteboard striped in many colors and numbered, and with counters of blue glass, and they appeared to be listening to the jokes of the notary, who never drew a number without making a remark, while in fact they were all thinking of Monsieur Grandet’s millions.

The old cooper, with inward self-conceit, was contemplating the pink feathers and the fresh toilet of Madame des Grassins, the martial head of the banker, the faces of Adolphe, the president, the abbe, and the notary, saying to himself—

“They are all after my money. Hey! neither the one nor the other shall have my daughter; but they are useful—useful as harpoons to fish with.”

This family gaiety in the old gray room dimly lighted by two tallow candles; this laughter, accompanied by the whirr of Nanon’s spinning-wheel, sincere only upon the lips of Eugenie or her mother;this triviality mingled with important interests; this young girl, who, like certain birds made victims of the price put upon them, was now lured and trapped by proofs of friendship of which she was the dupe—all these things contributed to make the scene a melancholy comedy. Is it not, moreover, a drama of all times and all places, though here brought down to its simplest expression? The figure of Grandet, playing his own game with the false friendship of the two families and getting enormous profits from it, dominates the scene and throws light upon it. The modern god—the only god in whom faith is preserved—money, is here, in all its power, manifested in a single countenance.

The tender sentiments of life hold here but a secondary place;only the three pure, simple hearts of Nanon, of Eugenie, and of her mother were inspired by them. And how much of ignorance there was in the simplicity of these poor women! Eugenie and her mother knew nothing of Grandet’s wealth; they could only estimate the things of life by the glimmer of their pale ideas, and they neither valued nor despised money, because they were accustomed to do without it. Their feelings, bruised, though they did not know it,but ever-living, were the secret spring of their existence, and made them curious exceptions in the midst of these other people whose lives were purely material. Frightful condition of the human race! there is no one of its joys that does not come from some species of ignorance.

At the moment when Madame Grandet had won a loto of sixteen sous—the largest ever pooled in that house—and while la Grande Nanon was laughing with delight as she watched madame pocketing her riches, the knocker resounded on the house-door with such a noise that the women all jumped in their chairs.

“There is no man in Saumur who would knock like that,” said the notary.

“How can they bang in that way!” exclaimed Nanon; “Do they want to break in the door?”

“Who the devil is it?” cried Grandet.

Nanon took one of the candles and went to open the door, followed by her master.

“Grandet! Grandet!” cried his wife, moved by a sudden impulse of fear, and running to the door of the room.

All the players looked at each other.

“Suppose we all go?” said Monsieur des Grassins; “that knock strikes me as evil-intentioned.”

Hardly was Monsieur des Grassins allowed to see the figure of a young man, accompanied by a porter from the coach-office carrying two large trunks and dragging a carpet-bag after him, than Monsieur Grandet turned roughly on his wife and said—

“Madame Grandet, go back to your loto; leave me to speak with monsieur.”

Then he pulled the door quickly to, and the excited players returned to their seats, but did not continue the game.

“Is it any one belonging to Saumur, Monsieur des Grassins?”asked his wife.

“No. He is a traveller.”

“He must have come from Paris.”

“Just so,” said the notary, pulling out his watch, which was two inches thick and looked like a Dutch man-of-war; “it’s nine o’clock;the diligence of the Grand Bureau is never late.”

“Is the gentleman young?” inquired the Abbe Cruchot.

“Yes,” answered Monsieur des Grassins, “and he has brought luggage which must weigh nearly three tons.”

“Nanon does not come back,” said Eugenie.

“It must be one of your relations,” remarked the president.

“Let us go on with our game,” said Madame Grandet gently.“I know from Monsieur Grandet’s tone of voice that he is annoyed;perhaps he would not like to find us talking of his affairs.”

“Mademoiselle,” said Adolphe to his neighbor, “it is no doubt your cousin Grandet—a very good-looking young man; I met him at the ball of Monsieur de Nucingen.”

Adolphe did not go on, for his mother trod on his toes; and then, asking him aloud for two sous to put on her stake, she whispered:“Will you hold your tongue, you great goose!”

At this moment Grandet returned, without la Grande Nanon, whose steps, together with those of the porter, echoed up the staircase; and he was followed by the traveller who had excited such curiosity and so filled the lively imaginations of those present that his arrival at this dwelling, and his sudden fall into the midst of this assembly, can only be likened to that of a snail into a beehive, or the introduction of a peacock into some village poultry-yard.

“Sit down near the fire,” said Grandet.

Before seating himself, the young stranger saluted the assembled company very gracefully. The men rose to answer by a courteous inclination, and the women made a ceremonious bow.

“You are cold, no doubt, monsieur,” said Madame Grandet; “you have, perhaps, travelled from—”

“Just like all women!” said the old wine-grower, looking up from a letter he was reading. “Do let monsieur rest himself!”

“But, father, perhaps monsieur would like to take something,”said Eugenie.

“He has got a tongue,” said the old man sternly.

The stranger was the only person surprised by this scene; all the others were well-used to the despotic ways of the master. However, after the two questions and the two replies had been exchanged, the newcomer rose, turned his back towards the fire, lifted one foot so as to warm the sole of its boot, and said to Eugenie—

“Thank you, my cousin, but I dined at Tours. And,” he added, looking at Grandet, “I need nothing; I am not even tired.”

“Monsieur has come from the capital?” asked Madame des Grassins.

Monsieur Charles—such was the name of the son of Monsieur Grandet of Paris—hearing himself addressed, took a little eye-glass, suspended by a chain from his neck, applied it to his right eye to examine what was on the table, and also the persons sitting round it. He ogled Madame des Grassins with much impertinence, and said to her, after he had observed all he wished—

“Yes, madame. You are playing at loto, aunt,” he added. “Do not let me interrupt you, I beg; go on with your game: it is too amusing to leave.”

“I was certain it was the cousin,” thought Madame des Grassins, casting repeated glances at him.

“Forty-seven!” cried the old abbe. “Mark it down, Madame des Grassins. Isn’t that your number?”

Monsieur des Grassins put a counter on his wife’s card, who sat watching first the cousin from Paris and then Eugenie, without thinking of her loto, a prey to mournful presentiments. From time to time the young heiress glanced furtively at her cousin, and the banker’s wife easily detected acrescendo of surprise and curiosity in her mind.

中產(chǎn)階級的面目

某些內(nèi)地城市里面,有些屋子看上去像最陰沉的修道院,最荒涼的曠野,最凄涼的廢墟,令人悒郁不歡。修道院的靜寂,曠野的枯燥,和廢墟的衰敗零落,也許這類屋子都有一點。里面的生活起居是那么幽靜,要不是街上一有陌生的腳步聲,窗口會突然探出一個臉孔像僧侶般的人,一動不動的,黯淡而冰冷的目光把生客瞪上一眼的話,外地客人可能把那些屋子當作沒有人住的空屋。

索漠城里有一所住宅,外表就有這些凄涼的成分。一條起伏不平的街,直達城市高處的古堡,那所屋子便在街的盡頭?,F(xiàn)在已經(jīng)不大有人來往的那條街,夏天熱,冬天冷,有些地方暗得很,可是頗有些特點:小石子鋪成的路面,傳出清脆的回聲,永遠清潔,干燥;街面窄而多曲折;兩旁的屋子非常幽靜,坐落在城腳下,屬于老城的部分。

上了三百年的屋子,雖是木造的,還很堅固,各種不同的格式別有風(fēng)光,使索漠城的這一個區(qū)域特別引起考古學(xué)家與藝術(shù)家的注意。你走過這些屋子,不能不欣賞那些粗大的梁木,兩頭雕出古怪的形象,蓋在大多數(shù)的底層上面,成為一條黝黑的浮雕。

有些地方,屋子的橫木蓋著石板,在不大結(jié)實的墻上勾勒出藍色的圖案,木料支架的屋頂,年深月久,往下彎了;日曬雨淋,椽子已經(jīng)腐爛,翹曲。有些地方,露出破舊黝黑的窗檻,細巧的雕刻已經(jīng)看不大清,窮苦的女工放上一盆石竹或薔薇,窗檻似乎就承受不住那棕色的瓦盆。再往前走,有的門上釘著粗大的釘子,我們的祖先異想天開地刻上些奇形怪狀的文字,意義是永遠沒法知道的了;或者是一個新教徒在此表明自己的信仰,或者是一個舊教徒為反對新教而詛咒亨利四世。也有一般布爾喬亞刻些徽號,表示他們是舊鄉(xiāng)紳,掌握過當?shù)氐男姓?。這一切中間就有整部法蘭西歷史的影子。一邊是墻壁粉得很粗糙的、搖搖欲墜的屋子,還是工匠賣弄手藝的遺物;貼鄰便是一座鄉(xiāng)紳的住宅,半圓形門框上的貴族徽號,受過了一七八九年以來歷次革命的摧殘,還看得出遺跡。

這條街上,做買賣的底層既不是小鋪子,也不是大商店,喜歡中世紀文物的人,在此可以遇到一派樸素簡陋的氣象,完全像我們上代里的習(xí)藝工場[1]。寬大低矮的店堂,沒有鋪面,沒有擺在廊下的貨攤,沒有櫥窗,可是很深,黑洞洞的,里里外外沒有一點兒裝潢。滿板的大門分作上下兩截,簡陋地釘了鐵皮;上半截往里打開,下半截裝有彈簧的門鈴,老是有人開進開出。門旁半人高的墻上,一排厚實的護窗板,白天卸落,夜晚裝上,外加鐵閂好落鎖。這間地窖式的潮濕的屋子,就靠大門的上半截或者窗洞與屋頂之間的空間,透進一些空氣與陽光。半人高的墻壁下面,是陳列商品的位置。招徠顧客的玩意兒,這兒是絕對沒有的。貨色的種類要看鋪子的性質(zhì):或者擺著兩三桶鹽和鱈魚,或者是幾捆帆布與繩索,樓板的椽木上掛著黃銅索,靠墻放一排桶箍,再不然架上放些布匹。

你進門吧,一個年輕漂亮的姑娘,干干凈凈的,戴著白圍巾,手臂通紅,立刻放下編織物,叫喚她的父親或母親來招呼你,也許是兩個銅子也許是兩萬法郎的買賣,對你或者冷淡,或者殷勤,或者傲慢,那得看店主的性格了。

你也可看到一個做酒桶木材的商人,兩只大拇指繞來繞去的,坐在門口跟鄰居談天。表面上他只有些起碼的酒瓶架或兩三捆薄板;但是安育地區(qū)所有的箍桶匠,都是向他碼頭上存貨充足的工場購料的。他知道如果葡萄的收成好,他能賣掉多少桶板,估計的準確最多是一兩塊板上下。一天的好太陽叫他發(fā)財,一場雨水叫他虧本:酒桶的市價,一個上午可以從十一法郎跌到六法郎。

這個地方像都蘭區(qū)域一樣,市面是由天氣做主的。種葡萄的,有田產(chǎn)的,木材商,箍桶匠,旅店主人,船夫,都眼巴巴地盼望太陽;晚上睡覺,就怕明朝起來聽說隔夜結(jié)了冰;他們怕風(fēng),怕雨,怕旱,一忽兒要雨水,一忽兒要天時轉(zhuǎn)暖,一忽兒又要滿天的云。在天公與塵世的利益之間,爭執(zhí)是沒得完的。晴雨表能夠輪流地叫人愁,叫人笑,叫人高興。

這條街從前是索漠城的大街,從這一頭到那一頭,“黃金一般的好天氣”這句話,對每份人家都代表一個收入的數(shù)目。而且每個人會對鄰居說:“是啊,天上落金子下來了。”因為他們知道一道陽光和一場時雨帶來多少利益。在天氣美好的季節(jié),到了星期六中午,就沒法買到一個銅子的東西。做生意的人也有一個葡萄園,一方小園地,全要下鄉(xiāng)去忙他兩天。買進,賣出,賺頭,一切都是預(yù)先計算好的,生意人盡可以花大半日的工夫打哈哈,說長道短,刺探旁人的私事。某家的主婦買了一只竹雞,鄰居就要問她的丈夫是否煮得恰到好處。一個年輕的姑娘從窗口探出頭來,絕沒有辦法不讓所有的閑人瞧見。因此大家的良心是露天的,那些無從窺測的、又暗又靜的屋子,藏不了什么秘密。

一般人差不多老在露天過活:每對夫婦坐在大門口,在那里吃中飯,吃晚飯,吵架拌嘴。街上的行人,沒有一個不經(jīng)過他們研究的。所以從前一個外鄉(xiāng)人到內(nèi)地,免不了到處給人家取笑。許多有趣的故事便是這樣來的,安越人的愛尋開心也是這樣出名的,因為編這一類的市井笑料是他們的拿手好戲。

早先本地的鄉(xiāng)紳全住在這條街上,街的高頭都是古城里的老宅子,世道人心都還樸實的時代——這種古風(fēng)現(xiàn)在是一天天地消滅了——的遺物。我們這個故事中的那所凄涼的屋子,就是其中之一。

古色古香的街上,連偶然遇到的小事都足以喚起你的回憶,全部的氣息使你不由自主地沉入遐想。拐彎抹角地走過去,你可以看到一處黑魆魆的凹進去的地方,葛朗臺府上的大門便藏在這凹坑中間。

在內(nèi)地把一個人的家稱作府上是有分量的;不知道葛朗臺先生的身世,就沒法掂出這稱呼的分量。

葛朗臺先生在索漠城的名望,自有它的前因后果,那是從沒在內(nèi)地耽留過的人不能完全了解的。葛朗臺先生,有些人還稱他作葛朗臺老頭,可是這樣稱呼他的老人越來越少了。他在一七八九年上是一個很富裕的箍桶匠,識得字,能寫能算。共和政府在索漠地區(qū)標賣教會產(chǎn)業(yè)的時候,他正好四十歲,才娶了一個有錢的木板商的女兒。他拿自己的現(xiàn)款和女人的陪嫁,湊成兩千金路易,跑到區(qū)公所。標賣監(jiān)督官是一個強兇霸道的共和黨人,葛朗臺把丈人給的四百路易往他那里一送,就三錢不值兩錢地,即使不能算正當,至少是合法地買到了區(qū)里最好的葡萄園、一座老修道院和幾塊分種田。

索漠的市民很少有革命氣息,在他們眼里,葛朗臺老頭是一個激烈的家伙,前進分子,共和黨人,關(guān)切新潮流的人物;其實箍桶匠只關(guān)心葡萄園。上面派他當索漠區(qū)的行政委員,于是地方上的政治與商業(yè)都受到他溫和的影響。

在政治方面,他包庇從前的貴族,想盡方法使流亡鄉(xiāng)紳的產(chǎn)業(yè)不致被公家標賣;商業(yè)方面,他向革命軍隊承包了一兩千桶白酒,代價是把某個女修道院上好的草原,本來留作最后一批標賣的產(chǎn)業(yè),弄到了手。

拿破侖執(zhí)政的時代,好家伙葛朗臺做了區(qū)長,把地方上的公事應(yīng)付得很好,可是他葡萄的收獲更好;拿破侖稱帝的時候,他變了光桿兒的葛朗臺先生。拿破侖不喜歡共和黨人,另外派了一個鄉(xiāng)紳兼大地主,一個后來晉封為男爵的人來代替葛朗臺,因為他有紅帽子嫌疑。葛朗臺丟掉區(qū)長的榮銜,毫不惋惜。在他任內(nèi),為了本城的利益,已經(jīng)造好幾條出色的公路直達他的產(chǎn)業(yè)。他的房產(chǎn)與地產(chǎn)登記的時候,占了不少便宜,只交很輕的稅。自從他各處的莊園登記之后,靠他不斷地經(jīng)營,他的葡萄園變成地方上的頂尖兒,這個專門的形容詞是說這種園里的葡萄能夠釀成極品的好酒??偠灾?,他簡直有資格得榮譽團的勛章。

免職的事發(fā)生在一八〇六年。那時葛朗臺五十七歲,他的女人三十六,他們的獨養(yǎng)女兒才十歲。

大概是老天看見他丟了官,想安慰安慰他吧,這一年上葛朗臺接連得了三筆遺產(chǎn),先是他丈母特·拉·古地尼埃太太的,接著是太太的外公特·拉·裴德里埃先生的,最后是葛朗臺自己的外婆香蒂埃太太的:這些遺產(chǎn)數(shù)目之大,沒有一個人知道。三個老人愛錢如命,一生一世都在積聚金錢,以便私下里摩挲把玩。特·拉·裴德里埃老先生把放債叫作揮霍,覺得對黃金看上幾眼比放高利貸還實惠。所以他們積蓄的多少,索漠人只能以看得見的收入估計。

于是葛朗臺先生得了新的貴族頭銜,那是盡管我們愛講平等也消滅不了的,他成為一州里“納稅最多”的人物。他的葡萄園有一百阿爾邦[2],收成好的年份可以出產(chǎn)七八百桶酒。他還有十三處分種田,一座老修道院,修院的窗子、門洞、彩色玻璃,一齊給他從外面堵死了,既可不付捐稅,又可保存那些東西。此外還有一百二十七阿爾邦的草原,上面的三千株白楊是一七九三年種下的。他住的屋子也是自己的產(chǎn)業(yè)。

這是他看得見的家私。至于他現(xiàn)金的數(shù)目,只有兩個人知道一個大概。一個是公證人克羅旭,替葛朗臺放債的;另外一個是臺·格拉桑,索漠城中最有錢的銀行家。葛朗臺認為合適的時候跟他暗中合作一下,分些好處。在內(nèi)地要得人信任,要掙家業(yè),行事非機密不可;老克羅旭與臺·格拉桑雖然機密透頂,仍免不了當眾對葛朗臺畢恭畢敬,使旁觀的人看出前任區(qū)長的資力何等雄厚。

索漠城里個個人相信葛朗臺家里有一個私庫,一個堆滿金路易的秘窟,說他半夜里瞧著累累的黃金,快樂得無可形容。一般吝嗇鬼認為這是千真萬確的事,因為看見那好家伙連眼睛都是黃澄澄的,染上了金子的光彩。一個靠資金賺慣大利錢的人,像色鬼、賭徒或幫閑的清客一樣,眼風(fēng)自有那種說不出的神氣,一派躲躲閃閃的、饞癆的、神秘的模樣,決計瞞不過他的同道。凡是對什么東西著了迷的人,這些暗號無異幫派里的切口。

葛朗臺先生從來不欠人家什么,又是老箍桶匠,又是種葡萄的老手,什么時候需要為自己的收成準備一千只桶,什么時候只要五百只桶,他預(yù)算得像天文學(xué)家一樣準確。投機事業(yè)從沒失敗過一次,酒桶的市價比酒還貴的時候,他老是有酒桶出賣。他能夠把酒藏起來,等每桶漲到兩百法郎才拋出去,一般小地主卻早已在一百法郎的時候脫手了。這樣一個人物當然博得大家的敬重。那有名的一八一一年的收成,他乖乖地囤在家里,一點一滴地慢慢賣出去,掙了二十四萬多法郎。講起理財?shù)谋绢I(lǐng),葛朗臺先生是只老虎,是條巨蟒:他會躺在那里,蹲在那里,把俘虜打量個半天再撲上去,張開血盆大口的錢袋,倒進大堆的金銀,然后安安寧寧地去睡覺,好像一條蛇吃飽了東西,不動聲色,冷靜非凡,什么事情都按部就班的。

他走過的時候,沒有一個人看見了不覺得又欽佩,又敬重,又害怕。索漠城中,不是個個人都給他鋼鐵般的利爪干凈利落地抓過一下的嗎?某人為了買田,從克羅旭那里弄到一筆借款,利率要一分一,某人拿期票向臺·格拉桑貼現(xiàn),給先扣了一大筆利息。市場上,或是夜晚的閑談中間,不提到葛朗臺先生大名的日子很少。有些人認為,這個種葡萄老頭的財富簡直是地方上的一寶,值得夸耀。不少做買賣的,開旅店的,得意揚揚地對外客說:

“嘿,先生,上百萬的咱們有兩三家;可是葛朗臺先生哪,連他自己也不知道究竟有多少家私!”

一八一六年的時候,索漠城里頂會計算的人,估計那好家伙的地產(chǎn)大概值到四百萬;但在一七九三到一八一七年中間,平均每年的收入該有十萬法郎,由此推算,他所有的現(xiàn)金大約和不動產(chǎn)的價值差不多。因此,打完了一場牌,或是談了一會兒葡萄的情形,提到葛朗臺的時候,一般自作聰明的人就說:“葛朗臺老頭嗎?……總該有五六百萬吧。”要是克羅旭或臺·格拉桑聽到了,就會說:

“你好厲害,我倒從來不知道他的總數(shù)呢!”

遇到什么巴黎客人提到洛豈爾特或拉斐德那般大銀行家,索漠人就要問,他們是不是跟葛朗臺先生一樣有錢。如果巴黎人付之一笑,回答說是的,他們便把腦袋一側(cè),互相瞪著眼,滿臉不相信的神氣。

偌大一筆財產(chǎn)把這個富翁的行為都鍍了金。假使他的生活起居本來有什么可笑、給人家當話柄的地方,那些話柄也早已消滅得無影無蹤了。葛朗臺的一舉一動都像是欽定的,到處行得通;他的說話,衣著,姿勢,瞪眼睛,都是地方上的金科玉律;大家把他仔細研究,像自然科學(xué)家要把動物的本能研究出它的作用似的,終于發(fā)現(xiàn)他最瑣屑的動作,也有深邃而不可言傳的智慧。譬如,人家說:

“今年冬天一定很冷,葛朗臺老頭已經(jīng)戴起皮手套了:咱們該收割葡萄了吧。”

或者說:

“葛朗臺老頭買了許多桶板,今年的酒一定不少的。”

葛朗臺先生從來不買肉,不買面包。每個星期,那些佃戶給他送來一份足夠的食物:閹雞,母雞,雞子,牛油,麥子,都是抵租的。他有一所磨坊租給人家,磨坊司務(wù)除了繳付租金以外,還得親自來拿麥子去磨,再把面粉跟麩皮送回來。他的獨一無二的老媽子,叫作長腳拿儂的,雖然上了年紀,還是每星期六替他做面包。房客之中有種菜的,葛朗臺便派定他們供應(yīng)菜蔬。至于水果,收獲之多,可以大部分出售。燒火爐用的木材,是把田地四周的籬垣或爛了一半的老樹砍下來,由佃戶鋸成一段一段的,用小車裝進城,他們還有心巴結(jié),替他送進柴房,討得幾聲謝。他的開支,據(jù)人家知道的,只有教堂里座椅的租費,圣餐費,太太和女兒的衣著,家里的燈燭,拿儂的工錢,鍋子的鍍錫,國家的賦稅,莊園的修理和種植的費用。他新近買了六百阿爾邦的一片樹林,托一個近鄰照顧,答應(yīng)給一些津貼。自從他置了這個產(chǎn)業(yè)之后,他才吃野味。

這家伙動作非常簡單,說話不多,發(fā)表意見總是用柔和的聲音、簡短的句子,搬弄一些老生常談。從他出頭露面的大革命時代起,逢到要長篇大論說一番,或者跟人家討論什么,他便馬上結(jié)結(jié)巴巴的,弄得對方頭昏腦漲。這種口齒不清,理路不明,前言不對后語,以及廢話連篇把他的思想弄糊涂了的情形,人家當作是他缺少教育,其實完全是假裝的;等會故事中有些情節(jié),就足以解釋明白。而且逢到要應(yīng)付,要解決什么生活上或買賣上的難題,他就搬出四句口訣,像代數(shù)公式一樣準確,叫作:“我不知道,我不能夠,我不愿意,慢慢瞧吧。”

他從來不說一聲是或不是,也從來不把黑筆落在白紙上。人家跟他說話,他冷冷地聽著,右手托著下巴頦兒,肘子靠在左手背上;無論什么事,他一朝拿定了主意,就永遠不變。一點點兒小生意,他也得盤算半天。經(jīng)過一番鉤心斗角的談話之后,對方自以為心中的秘密保守得密不透風(fēng),其實早已吐出了真話。他卻回答道:

“我沒有跟太太商量過,什么都不能決定。”

給他壓得像奴隸般的太太,卻是他生意上最方便的遮身牌。他從來不到別人家里去,不吃人家,也不請人家;他沒有一點兒聲響,似乎什么都要節(jié)省,連動作在內(nèi)。因為沒有一刻不尊重旁人的主權(quán),他絕對不動人家的東西。

可是,盡管他聲音柔和,態(tài)度持重,仍不免露出箍桶匠的談吐與習(xí)慣,尤其在家里,不像在旁的地方那么顧忌。

至于體格,他身高五尺,臃腫,橫闊,腿肚子的圓周有一尺,多節(jié)的膝蓋骨,寬大的肩膀;臉是圓的,烏油油的,有痘瘢;下巴筆直,嘴唇?jīng)]有一點兒曲線,牙齒雪白;冷靜的眼睛好像要吃人,是一般所謂的蛇眼;腦門上布滿褶皺,一塊塊隆起的肉頗有些奧妙;青年人不知輕重,背后開葛朗臺先生玩笑,把他黃而灰白的頭發(fā)叫作金子里摻白銀;鼻尖肥大,頂著一顆布滿血筋的肉瘤,一般人不無理由地說,這顆瘤里全是刁鉆促狹的玩意兒。這副臉相顯出他那種陰險的狡猾,顯出他有計劃的誠實,顯出他的自私自利,所有的感情都集中在吝嗇的樂趣和他唯一真正關(guān)切的獨養(yǎng)女兒歐也妮身上。而且姿勢、舉動、走路的功架,他身上的一切都表示他只相信自己,這是生意上左右逢源養(yǎng)成的習(xí)慣。所以表面上雖然性情和易,很好對付,骨子里他卻硬似鐵石。

他老是同樣的裝束,從一七九一年以來始終是那身打扮。笨重的鞋子,鞋帶也是皮做的;四季都穿一雙呢襪,一條栗色的粗呢短褲,用銀箍在膝蓋下面扣緊;上身穿一件方襟的閃光絲絨背心,顏色一忽兒黃一忽兒古銅色;外面罩一件衣裾寬大的栗色外套,戴一條黑領(lǐng)帶,一頂闊邊帽子。他的手套跟警察的一樣結(jié)實,要用到一年零八個月,為保持清潔起見,他有一個一定的手勢,把手套放在帽子邊緣上一定的位置。

關(guān)于這個人物,索漠人所知道的不過這一些。

城里的居民有資格在他家出入的只有六個。前三個中頂重要的是克羅旭先生的侄子。這個年輕人,自從當了索漠初級裁判所所長之后,在本姓克羅旭之上又加了一個篷風(fēng)的姓氏,并且極力想叫篷風(fēng)出名。他的簽名已經(jīng)變作克·特·篷風(fēng)了。倘使有什么冒失的律師仍舊稱他“克羅旭先生”,包管在出庭的時候要后悔他的糊涂。凡是稱“所長先生”的,就可博得法官的庇護。對于稱他“特·篷風(fēng)先生”的馬屁鬼,他更不惜滿面春風(fēng)地報以微笑。所長先生三十三歲,有一處名叫篷風(fēng)的田莊,每年有七千法郎進款;他還在那里等兩個叔父的遺產(chǎn),一個是克羅旭公證人,一個是克羅旭神父,屬于都爾城圣馬丁大教堂的教士會的;據(jù)說這兩人都相當有錢。三位克羅旭,房族既多,城里的親戚也有一二十家,儼然結(jié)成一個黨,好像從前佛羅倫薩的那些美第奇一樣;而且正如美第奇有巴齊一族跟他們對壘似的,克羅旭也有他們的敵黨。

臺·格拉桑太太有一個二十三歲的兒子。她很熱心地來陪葛朗臺太太打牌,希望她親愛的阿道夫能夠和歐也妮小姐結(jié)婚。銀行家臺·格拉桑先生,拿出全副精神從旁協(xié)助,對吝嗇的老頭兒不斷地暗中幫忙,逢到攸關(guān)大局的緊要關(guān)頭,從來不落人后。這三位臺·格拉桑也有他們的幫手、房族和忠實的盟友。

在克羅旭方面,神父是智囊,加上那個當公證人的兄弟做后援,他竭力跟銀行家太太競爭,想把葛朗臺的大筆遺產(chǎn)留給自己的侄兒??肆_旭和臺·格拉桑兩家暗中為爭奪歐也妮的斗法,成為索漠城中大家小戶熱心關(guān)切的題目。葛朗臺小姐將來嫁給誰呢?所長先生呢還是阿道夫·臺·格拉桑?

對于這個問題,有的人的答案是兩個都不會到手。據(jù)他們說,老箍桶匠野心勃勃,想找一個貴族院議員做女婿,憑他歲收三十萬法郎的陪嫁,誰還計較葛朗臺過去、現(xiàn)在、將來的那些酒桶?另外一批人卻回答說,臺·格拉桑是世家,極有錢,阿道夫又是一個俊俏后生,這樣一門親事,一定能叫出身低微,索漠城里都眼見拿過斧頭鑿子,而且還當過革命黨的人心滿意足,除非他夾袋里有什么教皇的侄子之流??墒抢嫌谑拦实娜颂嵝涯阏f,克羅旭·特·篷風(fēng)先生隨時可以在葛朗臺家進出,而他的敵手只能在星期日受招待。有的人認為,臺·格拉桑太太跟葛朗臺家的太太們,比克羅旭一家接近得多,久而久之,一定能說動她們,達到她的目的。有的人卻認為克羅旭神父的花言巧語是天下第一,拿女人跟出家人對抗,正好勢均力敵。所以索漠城中有一個才子說:

“他們正是旗鼓相當,各有一手。”

據(jù)地方上熟知內(nèi)幕的老輩的看法,像葛朗臺那么精明的人家,絕不肯把家私落在外人手里。索漠的葛朗臺還有一個兄弟在巴黎,非常有錢的酒商;歐也妮小姐將來是嫁給巴黎葛朗臺的兒子的。對這種意見,克羅旭和臺·格拉桑兩家的黨羽都表示異議,說:

“一則兩兄弟三十年來沒有見過兩次面;二則巴黎的葛朗臺先生對兒子的期望大得很。他自己是巴黎某區(qū)的區(qū)長,兼國會議員、禁衛(wèi)軍旅長、商事裁判所推事,自稱為跟拿破侖提拔的某公爵有姻親,早已不承認索漠的葛朗臺是本家。”

周圍七八十里,甚至在安越到勃洛阿的驛車里,都在談到這個有錢的獨養(yǎng)女兒,七嘴八舌,議論紛紛,當然是應(yīng)有之事。

一八一七年初,有一樁事情使克羅旭黨彰明較著地占了臺·格拉桑黨上風(fēng)。法勞豐田產(chǎn)素來以美麗的別莊、園亭、小溪、池塘、森林出名,值到三百萬法郎。年輕的法勞豐侯爵急需現(xiàn)款,不得不把這塊產(chǎn)業(yè)出賣。克羅旭公證人,克羅旭所長,克羅旭神父,再加上他們的黨羽,居然把侯爵分段出售的意思打消了。公證人告訴他,分成小塊的標賣,勢必要跟投標落選的人打不知多少場官司,才能拿到田價;還不如整塊兒讓給葛朗臺先生,既買得起,又能付現(xiàn)錢。公證人這番話把賣主說服了,做成一樁特別便宜的好買賣。侯爵的那塊良田美產(chǎn),就這樣地給張羅著送到了葛朗臺嘴里。他出乎索漠人意料之外,竟打了些折扣當場把田價付清。這件新聞一直傳播到南德與奧萊昂。

葛朗臺先生搭著人家回鄉(xiāng)的小車,到別莊上視察,以主人的身份對產(chǎn)業(yè)瞥了一眼?;氐匠抢?,覺得這一次的投資足足有五厘利,他又馬上得了一個好主意,預(yù)備把全部的田產(chǎn)和法勞豐并在一起。隨后,他要把差不多出空了的金庫重新填滿,決意把他的樹木、森林,一齊砍下,再把草原上的白楊也出賣。

葛朗臺先生的府上這個稱呼,現(xiàn)在你們該明白它的分量了吧。那是一所灰暗、陰森、靜寂的屋子,坐落在城區(qū)上部,靠著坍毀的城腳。

門框的穹隆與兩根支柱,像正屋一樣用的混凝土,洛阿河岸特產(chǎn)的一種白石,質(zhì)地松軟,用不到兩百年以上的。寒暑的酷烈,把柱頭、門洞、門頂,都磨出無數(shù)古怪的洞眼,像法國建筑的那種蟲蛀樣兒,也有幾分像監(jiān)獄的大門。門頂上面,有一長條硬石刻成的浮雕,代表四季的形象已經(jīng)剝蝕,變黑。浮雕的礎(chǔ)石突出在外面,橫七豎八地長著野草,黃色的苦菊、五爪龍、旋覆花、車前草,一株小小的櫻桃樹已經(jīng)長得很高了。

褐色的大門是獨幅的橡木做的,沒有油水,到處開裂,看上去很單薄,其實很堅固,因為有一排對花的釘子支持。一邊的門上有扇小門,中間開一個小方洞,裝了鐵柵,排得很密的鐵梗銹得發(fā)紅,鐵柵上掛著一個環(huán),上面吊一個敲門用的鐵錘,正好敲在一顆奇形怪狀的大釘子上。鐵錘是長方形的,像古時的鐘錘,又像一個肥大的驚嘆號;一個玩古董的人仔細打量之下,可以發(fā)現(xiàn)錘子當初是一個小丑的形狀,但是年深月久,已經(jīng)磨平了。

那個小鐵柵,當初在宗教戰(zhàn)爭的時代,原是預(yù)備給屋內(nèi)的人探望來客的?,F(xiàn)在喜歡東張西望的人,可以從鐵柵中間望到黑魆魆的半綠不綠的環(huán)洞,環(huán)洞底上有幾級七零八落的磴級,通上花園:厚實而潮濕的圍墻,到處滲出水跡,生滿垂頭喪氣的雜樹,倒也另有一番景致。這片墻原是城墻的一部分,鄰近人家都利用它布置花園。

樓下最重要的房間是那間“堂屋”,從大門內(nèi)的環(huán)洞進出的。在安育、都蘭、裴里各地的小城中間,一間堂屋的重要,外方人是不大懂得的。它同時是穿堂、客廳、書房、上房、飯廳;它是日常生活的中心,全家公用的起居室。本區(qū)的理發(fā)匠替葛朗臺先生一年理兩次發(fā)是在這里,佃戶、教士、縣長、磨坊伙計上門的時候,也是在這間屋里。室內(nèi)鋪著地板,有兩扇臨街的窗;古式嵌線的灰色護壁板從上鋪到下,頂上的梁木都露在外面,也漆成灰色;梁木中間的樓板涂著白粉,已經(jīng)發(fā)黃了。

壁爐架上面掛著一面耀出青光的鏡子,兩旁的邊劃成斜面,顯出玻璃的厚度,一絲絲的閃光照在哥特式的鏤花鋼框上。壁爐架是粗糙的白石面子,擺著一座黃銅的老鐘,殼子上有螺鈿嵌成的圖案。左右放兩盞黃銅的兩用燭臺,座子是銅鑲邊的藍色大理石,矗立著好幾枝玫瑰花瓣形的燈芯盤;把這些盤子拿掉,座子又可成為一個單獨的燭臺,在平常日子應(yīng)用。

古式的座椅,花綢面子上織著拉封丹的寓言,但不是博學(xué)之士,休想認出它們的內(nèi)容:顏色褪盡,到處是補丁,人物已經(jīng)看不清楚。四邊壁角里放著三角形的酒櫥,頂上有幾格放零星小件的擱板,全是油膩。兩扇窗子中間的板壁下面,有一張嵌木細工的舊牌桌,桌面上畫著棋盤。牌桌后面的壁上掛一只橢圓形的晴雨表,黑框子四周有金漆的絲帶形花邊,蒼蠅肆無忌憚地叮在上面張牙舞爪,恐怕不會有多少金漆留下的了。

壁爐架對面的壁上,掛兩幅水粉畫的肖像,據(jù)說一個是葛朗臺太太的外公,特·拉·裴德里埃老人,穿著王家禁衛(wèi)軍連長的制服;一個是故香蒂埃太太,綰著一個古式的髻。窗簾用的是都爾紅綢,兩旁用系有大墜子的絲帶吊起。這種奢華的裝飾,跟葛朗臺一家的習(xí)慣很不調(diào)和,原來是買進這所屋子的時候就有的,連鏡框、座鐘、花綢面的家具、紅木酒櫥等等都是。

靠門的窗洞下面,一張草坐墊的椅子放在一個木座上,使葛朗臺太太坐了可以望見街上的行人。另外一張褪色櫻桃木的女紅臺,把窗洞的空間填滿了,近旁還有歐也妮的小靠椅。

十五年以來,從四月到十一月,母女倆就在這個位置上安安靜靜地消磨日子,手里永遠拿著活計。十一月初一,她們可以搬到壁爐旁邊過冬了。只有到那一天,葛朗臺才答應(yīng)在堂屋里生火,到三月三十一日就得熄掉,不管春寒不管早秋的涼意。四月和十月里最冷的日子,長腳拿儂想法從廚房里騰出些柴炭,安排一只腳爐,給太太和小姐擋擋早晚的寒氣。

全家的內(nèi)衣被服都歸母女倆負責(zé),她們專心一意,像女工一樣整天勞作,甚至歐也妮想替母親繡一方挑花領(lǐng),也只能騰出睡眠的時間來做,還得想出借口來騙取父親的蠟燭。多年來女兒與拿儂用的蠟燭,吝嗇鬼總是親自分發(fā)的,正如每天早上分發(fā)面包和食物一樣。

也許只有長腳拿儂受得了她主人的那種專制。索漠城里都羨慕葛朗臺夫婦有這樣一個老媽子。大家叫她長腳拿儂,因為她身高五尺八寸。她在葛朗臺家已經(jīng)做了三十五年。雖然一年的工薪只有六十法郎,大家已經(jīng)認為她是城里最有錢的女仆了。一年六十法郎,積了三十五年,最近居然有四千法郎存在公證人克羅旭那兒做終身年金。這筆長期不斷的積蓄,似乎是一個了不得的數(shù)目。每個女傭看見這個上了六十歲的老媽子有了老年的口糧,都十分眼熱,卻沒有想到這份口糧是辛辛苦苦做牛馬換來的。

二十二歲的時候,這可憐的姑娘到處沒有人要,她的臉丑得叫人害怕;其實這么說是過分的,把她的臉放在一個擲彈兵的脖子上,還可受到人家稱贊哩;可是據(jù)說什么東西都要相稱。她先是替農(nóng)家放牛,農(nóng)家遭了火災(zāi),她就憑著天不怕地不怕的勇氣,進城來找事。

那時葛朗臺正想自立門戶,預(yù)備娶親。他瞥見了這到處碰壁的女孩子。以箍桶匠的眼光判斷一個人的體力是準沒有錯:她體格像大力士,站在那兒仿佛一株六十年的橡樹,根牢蒂固;粗大的腰圍,四方的背脊,一雙手像個趕車的;誠實不欺的德行,正如她的貞操一般純潔無瑕。在這樣一個女人身上可以榨取多少利益,他算得清清楚楚。雄赳赳的臉上生滿了疣,紫膛膛的皮色,青筋隆起的胳膊,襤褸的衣衫,拿儂這些外表并沒嚇退箍桶匠,雖然他那時還在能夠動心的年紀。他給這個可憐的姑娘衣著、鞋襪、膳宿,出了工錢雇用她,也不過分地虐待、糟蹋。

長腳拿儂受到這樣的待遇暗中快活得哭了,就一片忠心地服侍箍桶匠。而箍桶匠當她家奴一般利用。拿儂包辦一切:煮飯,蒸洗東西,拿衣服到洛阿河邊去洗,擔(dān)在肩上回來;天一亮就起身,深夜才睡覺;收成時節(jié),所有短工的飯食都歸她料理,還不讓人家撿取掉在地下的葡萄;她像一條忠心的狗一樣保護主人的財產(chǎn)??傊龑λ欧梦弩w投地,無論他什么想入非非的念頭,她都不哼一聲地服從。一八一一那有名的一年[3]收獲季節(jié)特別辛苦,這時拿儂已經(jīng)服務(wù)了二十年,葛朗臺才發(fā)狠賞了她一只舊表,那是她到手的唯一禮物。固然他一向把穿舊的鞋子給她(她正好穿得上),但是每隔三個月得來的鞋子,已經(jīng)那么破爛,不能叫作禮物了??蓱z的姑娘因為一無所有,變得吝嗇不堪,終于使葛朗臺像喜歡一條狗一樣地喜歡她,而拿儂也甘心情愿讓人家把鏈條套上脖子,鏈條上的刺,她已經(jīng)不覺得痛了。

要是葛朗臺把面包割得過分小氣了一點,她絕不抱怨;這份人家飲食嚴格,從來沒有人鬧病,拿儂也樂于接受這衛(wèi)生的好處。而且她跟主人家已經(jīng)打成一片:葛朗臺笑,她也笑;葛朗臺發(fā)愁、挨冷、取暖、工作,她也跟著發(fā)愁、挨冷、取暖、工作。這樣不分彼此的平等,還不算甜蜜的安慰嗎?她在樹底下吃些杏子、桃子、棗子,主人從來不埋怨。

有些年份的果子把樹枝都壓彎了,佃戶拿去喂豬,于是葛朗臺對拿儂說:“吃呀,拿儂,盡吃。”

這個窮苦的鄉(xiāng)下女人,從小只受到虐待,人家為了善心才把她收留下來;對于她,葛朗臺老頭那種叫人猜不透意思的笑,真像一道陽光似的。而且拿儂單純的心、簡單的頭腦,只容得下一種感情、一個念頭。三十五年如一日,她老是看到自己站在葛朗臺先生的工場前面,赤著腳,穿著破爛衣衫,聽見箍桶匠對她說:“你要什么呀,好孩子?”她心中的感激永遠是那么新鮮。

有時候,葛朗臺想到這個可憐蟲從沒聽見一句奉承的話,完全不懂女人所能獲得的那些溫情;將來站在上帝前面受審,她比圣母瑪利亞還要貞潔。葛朗臺想到這些,不禁動了憐憫,望著她說:

“可憐的拿儂!”

老用人聽了,總是用一道難以形容的目光瞧他一下。時常掛在嘴邊的這句感嘆,久已成為他們之間不斷的友誼的鏈鎖,而每說一遍,鏈鎖總多加上一環(huán)。出于葛朗臺的心坎,而使老姑娘感激的這種憐憫,不知怎樣總有一點兒可怕的氣息。這種吝嗇鬼的殘酷的憐憫,在老箍桶匠是因為想起在用人身上刮到了多少好處而得意,在拿儂卻是全部的快樂。“可憐的拿儂!”這樣的話誰不會說?但是說話的音調(diào)、語氣之間莫測高深的惋惜,可以使上帝認出誰才是真正的慈悲。

索漠有許多家庭待用人好得多,用人卻仍然對主人不滿意。于是又有這樣的話流傳了:

“葛朗臺他們對長腳拿儂怎么的,她會這樣的忠心?簡直肯替他們拼命!”

廚房臨著院子,窗上裝有鐵柵,老是干凈,整齊,冷冰冰的,真是守財奴的灶屋,沒有一點兒糟蹋的東西。拿儂晚上洗過碗盞,收起剩菜,熄了灶火,便到跟廚房隔著一條過道的堂屋里績麻,跟主人們在一塊。這樣,一個黃昏全家只消點一支蠟燭了。老媽子睡的是過道底上的一個小房間,只消有一個墻洞漏進一些日光;躺在這樣一個窩里,她結(jié)實的身體居然毫無虧損。她可以聽見日夜都靜悄悄的屋子里的任何響動,像一條看家狗似的,她豎著耳朵睡覺,一邊休息一邊守夜。

屋子其余的部分,等故事發(fā)展下去的時候再來描寫;但全家精華所在的堂屋的景象,已可令人想見樓上的寒磣了。

一八一九年,秋季的天氣特別好;到十一月中旬某一天傍晚時分,長腳拿儂才第一次生火。那一天是克羅旭與臺·格拉桑兩家記得清清楚楚的節(jié)日。雙方六位人馬,預(yù)備全副武裝,到堂屋里交一交手,比一比誰表示得更親熱。

早上,索漠的人看見葛朗臺太太和葛朗臺小姐,后邊跟著拿儂,到教堂去望彌撒,于是大家記起了這一天是歐也妮小姐的生日。克羅旭公證人,克羅旭神父,克·特·篷風(fēng)先生,算準了葛朗臺家該吃完晚飯的時候,急急忙忙趕來,要搶在臺·格拉桑一家之前,向葛朗臺小姐拜壽。三個人都捧著從小花壇中摘來的大束的花。所長那束,花梗上很巧妙地裹著金色穗子的白緞帶。

每逢歐也妮的生日和本名節(jié)日[4],照例葛朗臺清早就直闖到女兒床邊,鄭重其事地把他為父的禮物親手交代,十三年來的老規(guī)矩,都是一枚稀罕的金洋。

葛朗臺太太總給女兒一件衣衫,或是冬天穿的,或是夏天穿的,看什么節(jié)而定。這兩件衣衫,加上父親在新年跟他自己的節(jié)日所賞賜的金洋,她每年小小的收入大概有五六百法郎,葛朗臺很高興地看她慢慢地積起來。這不過是把自己的錢換一只口袋罷了,而且可以從小培養(yǎng)女兒的吝嗇。他不時盤問一下她財產(chǎn)的數(shù)目——其中一部分是從葛朗臺太太的外婆那里來的——盤問的時候總說:

“這是你陪嫁的壓箱錢呀。”

所謂壓箱錢是一種古老的風(fēng)俗,法國中部有些地方至今還很鄭重地保存在那里。裴里、安育那一帶,一個姑娘出嫁的時候,不是娘家便是婆家,總得給她一筆金洋或銀洋,或是十二枚,或是一百四十四枚,或是一千二百枚,看家境而定。最窮的牧羊女出嫁,壓箱錢也非有不可,就是拿大銅錢充數(shù)也是好的。伊蘇屯地方,至今還談?wù)撛?jīng)有一個有錢的獨養(yǎng)女兒,壓箱錢是一百四十四枚葡萄牙金洋。凱塞琳·特·美第奇嫁給亨利二世,她的叔叔教皇克雷門七世送給她一套古代的金勛章,價值連城。

吃晚飯的時候,父親看見女兒穿了新衣衫格外漂亮,便喜歡得什么似的,嚷道:

“既然是歐也妮的生日,咱們生起火來,取個吉利吧!”

長腳拿儂撤下飯桌上吃剩的鵝,箍桶匠家里的珍品,一邊說:

“小姐今年一定要大喜了。”

“索漠城里沒有合適的人家啊。”葛朗臺太太接口道,她一眼望著丈夫的那種膽怯的神氣,以她的年齡而論,活現(xiàn)出可憐的女人是一向?qū)φ煞蚍膽T的。

葛朗臺端詳著女兒,快活地叫道:

“今天她剛好二十三了,這孩子。是咱們操心的時候了。”

歐也妮和她的母親心照不宣地彼此瞧了一眼。

葛朗臺太太是一個干枯的瘦女人,皮色黃黃的像木瓜,舉動遲緩,笨拙,就像那些生來受磨折的女人。大骨骼,大鼻子,大額角,大眼睛,一眼望去,好像既無味道又無汁水的干癟果子。黝黑的牙齒已經(jīng)不多幾顆,嘴巴全是皺裥,長長的下巴頦兒往上鉤起,像只木底靴??墒撬秊槿藰O好,真有裴德里埃家風(fēng)??肆_旭神父常常有心借機會告訴她,她當初并不怎樣難看,她居然會相信。性情柔和得像天使,忍耐功夫不下于給孩子們捉弄的蟲蟻,少有的虔誠,平靜的心境絕對不會騷亂,一片好心,每個人可憐她,敬重她。

丈夫給她的零用,每次從不超過六法郎。雖然相貌奇丑,她的陪嫁與承繼的遺產(chǎn),給葛朗臺先生帶來三十多萬法郎。然而她始終誠惶誠恐,仿佛寄人籬下似的;天性的柔和,使她擺脫不了這種奴性,她既沒要求過一個錢,也沒對克羅旭公證人叫她簽字的文件表示過異議。支配這個女人的,只有悶在肚里的那股愚不可及的傲氣,以及葛朗臺非但不了解還要加以傷害的慷慨的心胸。

葛朗臺太太永遠穿一件淡綠綢衫,照例得穿上一年;戴一條棉料的白圍巾,頭上一頂草帽,差不多永遠系一條黑紗圍身。難得出門,鞋子很省??傊?,她自己從來不想要一點兒什么。

有時,葛朗臺想起自從上次給了她六法郎以后已經(jīng)有好久,覺得過意不去,便在出售當年收成的契約上添注一筆,要買主掏出些中傭金給他太太。向葛朗臺買酒的荷蘭商人或比國商人,總得破費上百法郎,這就是葛朗臺太太一年之中最可觀的進款。

可是,她一朝拿到了上百法郎,丈夫往往對她說(仿佛他們用的錢一向是公賬似的):“借幾個子兒給我,好不好?”可憐的女人,老是聽到懺悔師說男人是她的夫君,是她的主人,所以覺得能夠幫他忙是最快活不過的,一個冬天也就還了他好些傭金。

葛朗臺掏出了做零用、買針線、付女兒衣著的六法郎月費,把錢袋扣上之后,總不忘了向他女人問一聲:

“喂,媽媽,你想要一點兒什么嗎?”

“哦,那個,慢慢再說吧。”葛朗臺太太回答,她覺得做母親的應(yīng)該保持她的尊嚴。

這種偉大真是白費!葛朗臺自以為對太太慷慨得很呢。像拿儂、葛朗臺太太、歐也妮小姐這等人物,倘使給哲學(xué)家碰到了,不是很有理由覺得上帝的本性是喜歡跟人開玩笑嗎?

在初次提到歐也妮婚事的那餐晚飯之后,拿儂到樓上葛朗臺先生房里拿一瓶果子酒,下來的時候幾乎摔了一跤。

“蠢東西,”葛朗臺先生叫道,“你也會栽斤斗嗎,你?”

“哎喲,先生,那是你的樓梯不行呀。”

“不錯,”葛朗臺太太接口,“你早該修理了,昨天晚上,歐也妮也險些兒扭壞了腳。”葛朗臺看見拿儂臉色發(fā)白,便說:

“好,既然是歐也妮的生日,你又幾乎摔跤,就請你喝一杯果子酒壓壓驚吧。”

“真是,這杯酒是我把命拼來的。換了別人,瓶子早已摔掉了;我哪怕碰斷肘子,也要把酒瓶擎得老高,不讓它砸破呢。”

“可憐的拿儂!”葛朗臺一邊說一邊替她斟酒。

“跌痛沒有?”歐也妮很關(guān)切地望著她問。

“沒有,我挺一挺腰就站住了。”

“得啦,既然是歐也妮的生日,”葛朗臺說,“我就去替你們修理踏級吧。你們這般人,就不會揀結(jié)實的地方落腳。”

葛朗臺拿了燭臺,走到烤面包的房里去拿木板、釘子和工具,讓太太、女兒、用人坐在暗里,除了壁爐的活潑的火焰之外,沒有一點兒光亮。拿儂聽見他在樓梯上敲擊的聲音,便問:

“要不要幫忙?”

“不用,不用!我會對付。”老箍桶匠回答。

葛朗臺一邊修理蟲蛀的樓梯,一邊想起少年時代的事情,直著喉嚨打呼哨。這時候,三位克羅旭來敲門了。

“是你嗎,克羅旭先生?”拿儂湊在鐵柵上張了一張。

“是的。”所長回答。

拿儂打開大門,壁爐的火光照在環(huán)洞里,三位克羅旭才看清了堂屋的門口。拿儂聞到花香,便說:

“啊!你們是來拜壽的。”

“對不起,諸位,”葛朗臺聽出了客人的聲音,嚷道,“我馬上就來!不瞞你們說,樓梯的踏級壞了,我自己在修呢。”

“不招呼,不招呼!葛朗臺先生。區(qū)區(qū)煤炭匠,在家也好當市長。”所長引經(jīng)據(jù)典地說完,獨自笑開了,卻沒有人懂得他把成語改頭換面,影射葛朗臺當過區(qū)長。

葛朗臺母女倆站了起來。所長趁堂屋里沒有燈光,便對歐也妮說道:

“小姐,今天是你的生日,我祝賀你年年快樂,歲歲康強!”

說著他獻上一大束索漠城里少有的鮮花;然后抓著獨養(yǎng)女兒的肘子,把她脖子兩邊各親了一下,那副得意的神氣把歐也妮羞得什么似的。所長像一顆生銹的大鐵釘,自以為這樣就是追求女人。

“所長先生,不用拘束啊,”葛朗臺走進來說,“過節(jié)的日子,照例得痛快一下。”

克羅旭神父也捧著他的一束花,接口說:

“跟令愛在一塊兒,舍侄覺得天天都是過節(jié)呢。”

說完話,神父吻了吻歐也妮的手。公證人克羅旭卻老實不客氣親了她的腮幫,說:

“哎,哎,歲月催人,又是一年了。”

葛朗臺有了一句笑話,輕易不肯放棄,只要自己覺得好玩,會三番四次地說個不休;他把燭臺往座鐘前面一放,說道:

“既然是歐也妮的生日,咱們就大放光明吧!”

他很小心地摘下燈臺上的管子,每根按上了燈芯盤,從拿儂手里接過一根紙卷的新蠟燭,放入洞眼,插妥了,點上了,然后走去坐在太太旁邊,把客人、女兒和兩支蠟燭,輪流打量過來。克羅旭神父矮小肥胖,渾身是肉,茶紅的假頭發(fā),像是壓扁了的,臉孔像個愛開玩笑的老太婆,套一雙銀搭扣的結(jié)實的鞋子。他把腳一伸,問道:

“臺·格拉桑他們沒有來嗎?”

“還沒有。”葛朗臺回答。

“他們會來嗎?”老公證人扭動著那張腳爐蓋似的臉問。

“我想會來的。”葛朗臺太太回答。

“府上的葡萄收割完了嗎?”特·篷風(fēng)所長問葛朗臺。

“統(tǒng)統(tǒng)完了!”葛朗臺老頭說著,站起身來在堂屋里踱步,他把胸脯一挺的那股勁兒,跟“統(tǒng)統(tǒng)完了”四個字一樣驕傲。

長腳拿儂不敢闖入過節(jié)的場面,便在廚房內(nèi)點起蠟燭,坐在灶旁預(yù)備績麻。葛朗臺從過道的門里瞥見了,踱過去嚷道:

“拿儂,你能不能滅了灶火,熄了蠟燭,上我們這兒來?嘿!這里地方大得很,怕擠不下嗎?”

“可是先生,你們那里有貴客哪。”

“怕什么?他們不跟你一樣是上帝造的嗎?”

葛朗臺說完又走過來問所長:“府上的收成脫手沒有?”

“沒有。老實說,我不想賣。現(xiàn)在的酒固然好,過兩年更好。你知道,地主都發(fā)誓要堅持公議的價格。那些比國人這次休想占便宜了。他們這回不買,下回還是要來的。”

“不錯,可是咱們要齊心啊。”葛朗臺的語調(diào),叫所長打了一個寒噤。

“他會不會跟他們暗中談判呢?”克羅旭心里想。

這時大門上錘子響了一下,報告臺·格拉桑一家來了。葛朗臺太太和克羅旭神父才開始的話題,只得擱過一邊。

臺·格拉桑太太是那種矮小活潑的女人,身材肥胖,皮膚白里泛紅,過著修道院式的內(nèi)地生活,律身謹嚴,所以在四十歲上還顯得年輕。這等女子仿佛過時的最后幾朵薔薇,叫人看了舒服,但它們的花瓣有種說不出的冰冷的感覺,香氣也淡薄得很了。她穿著相當講究,行頭都從巴黎帶來,索漠的時裝就把她做標準,而且家里經(jīng)常舉行晚會。

她的丈夫在拿破侖的禁衛(wèi)軍中當過連長,在奧斯丹列茲一役受了重傷,退伍了,對葛朗臺雖然尊敬,但是爽直非凡,不失軍人本色。

“你好,葛朗臺。”他說著向葡萄園主伸出手來,一副儼然的氣派是他一向用來壓倒克羅旭的。向葛朗臺太太行過禮,他又對歐也妮說:“小姐,你老是這樣美,這樣賢惠,簡直想不出祝賀你的話。”

然后他從跟班手里接過一口匣子遞過去,里面裝著一株好望角的鐵樹,這種花還是最近帶到歐洲而極少見的。

臺·格拉桑太太非常親熱地擁抱了歐也妮,握著她的手說:

“我的一點兒小意思,叫阿道夫代獻吧。”

一個頭發(fā)金黃、個子高大的青年,蒼白,嬌弱,舉動相當文雅,外表很羞怯,可是最近到巴黎念法律,膳宿之外,居然花掉上萬法郎。這時他走到歐也妮前面,親了親她的腮幫,獻上一個針線匣子,所有的零件都是鍍金的;匣面上哥特式的花體字,把歐也妮姓名的縮寫刻得不壞,好似做工很精巧,其實全部是騙人的起碼貨。

歐也妮揭開匣子,感到一種出乎意外的快樂,那是使所有的少女臉紅、寒戰(zhàn)、高興得發(fā)抖的快樂。她望著父親,似乎問他可不可以接受。葛朗臺說一聲:“收下吧,孩子!”那強勁有力的音調(diào)竟可以使一個角兒成名呢。

這樣貴重的禮物,獨養(yǎng)女兒還是第一遭看見,她的快活與興奮的目光,使勁盯住了阿道夫·臺·格拉桑,把三位克羅旭看呆了。臺·格拉桑先生掏出鼻煙壺,讓了一下主人,自己聞了一下,把藍外套紐孔上“榮譽團”絲帶上的煙末抖干凈了,轉(zhuǎn)過頭去望著幾位克羅旭,神氣之間仿佛說:“嘿,瞧我這一手!”

臺·格拉桑太太就像一個喜歡譏笑人家的女子,裝作特意尋找克羅旭他們的禮物,把藍瓶里的鮮花瞅了一眼。在這番微妙的比賽中,大家圍坐在壁爐前面;克羅旭神父卻丟下眾人,徑自和葛朗臺踱到堂屋那一頭,離臺·格拉桑最遠的窗洞旁邊,咬著守財奴的耳朵說:

“這些人簡直把錢往窗外扔。”

“沒有關(guān)系,反正是扔在我的地窖里。”葛朗臺回答。

“你給女兒打把金剪刀也打得起呢。”神父又道。

“金剪刀有什么稀罕,我給她的東西名貴得多哩。”

克羅旭所長那豬肝色的臉本來就不體面,加上亂蓬蓬的頭發(fā),愈顯得難看了。神父望著他,心里想:

“這位老侄真是一個傻瓜,一點兒討人喜歡的小玩意兒都想不出來!”

這時臺·格拉桑太太嚷道:

“咱們陪你玩一會兒牌吧,葛朗臺太太。”

“這么多人,好來兩局呢……”

“既然是歐也妮的生日,你們不妨來個摸彩的玩意兒,讓兩個孩子也參加。”老箍桶匠一邊說一邊指著歐也妮和阿道夫,他自己是對什么游戲都從不參加的。

“來,拿儂,擺桌子。”

“我們來幫忙,拿儂。”臺·格拉桑太太很高興地說,她因為得了歐也妮的歡心,快活得不得了。那位獨養(yǎng)女兒對她說:

“我一輩子都沒有這么快樂過,我從沒見過這樣漂亮的東西。”

臺·格拉桑太太便咬著她的耳朵:

“那是阿道夫從巴黎捎來的,他親自挑的呢。”

“好,好,你去灌迷湯吧,刁鉆促狹的鬼女人!”所長心里想,“一朝你家有什么官司落在我手中,不管是你的還是你丈夫的,哼,看你有好結(jié)果吧。”

公證人坐在一旁,神色泰然地望著神父,想道:

“臺·格拉桑他們是白費心的。我的家私,我兄弟的,侄子的,合在一起有一百一十萬。臺·格拉桑最多也不過抵得一半,何況他們還有一個女兒要嫁!好吧,他們愛送禮就送吧!終有一天,獨養(yǎng)女兒跟他們的禮物,會一股腦兒落在咱們手里的。”

八點半,兩張牌桌端整好了??∏蔚呐_·格拉桑太太居然能夠把兒子安排在歐也妮旁邊。各人拿著一塊有數(shù)目字與格子的紙板,抓著藍玻璃的碼子,開始玩了。這聚精會神的一幕,雖然表面上平淡無奇,所有的角兒裝作聽著老公證人的笑話——他摸一顆碼子,念一個數(shù)目,總要開一次玩笑——其實都念念不忘地想著葛朗臺的幾百萬家私。

老箍桶匠躊躇滿志地把臺·格拉桑太太時髦的打扮、粉紅的帽飾,銀行家威武的臉相,還有阿道夫、所長、神父、公證人的腦袋,一個個地打量過來,暗自想道:

“他們都看中我的錢,為了我女兒到這兒來受罪。哼!我的女兒,休想;我就利用這般人替我釣魚!”

灰色的老客廳里,黑魆魆地只點兩支蠟燭,居然也有家庭的歡樂;拿儂的紡車聲,替眾人的笑聲當著伴奏,可是只有歐也妮和她母親的笑才是真心的;小人的心胸都在關(guān)切重大的利益;這位姑娘受到奉承、包圍,以為他們的友誼都是真情實意,仿佛一只小鳥全不知道給人家標著高價作為賭注。這種種使那天晚上的情景顯得又可笑又可嘆。這原是古往今來到處在搬演的活劇,這兒不過表現(xiàn)得最簡單罷了。利用兩家的假殷勤而占足便宜的葛朗臺,是這一幕的主角,有了他,這一幕才有意義。單憑這個人的臉,不是就象征了法力無邊的財神,現(xiàn)代人的上帝嗎?

人生的溫情在此只居于次要地位;它只能激動拿儂、歐也妮和她母親三顆純潔的心。而且她們能有這么一點兒天真,還是因為她們蒙在鼓里,一無所知!葛朗臺的財富,母女倆全不知道;她們對人生的看法,只憑一些渺茫的觀念,對金錢既不看重也不看輕,她們一向就用不到它。她們的情感雖然無形中受了傷害,依舊很強烈,而且是她們生命的真諦,使她們在這一群唯利是圖的人中間別具一格。人類的處境就是這一點可怕!沒有一宗幸福不是靠糊涂得來的。

葛朗臺太太中了十六個銅子的彩,在這兒是破天荒第一遭的大彩;長腳拿儂看見太太有這許多錢落袋,快活地笑了。正在這時候,大門上“砰”的一聲,錘子敲得那么響,把太太們嚇得從椅子里直跳起來。

“這種敲門的氣派絕不是本地人。”公證人說。

“哪有這樣敲法的!”拿儂說,“難道想砸破大門嗎?”

“哪個混賬東西!”葛朗臺咕嚕著。

拿儂在兩支蠟燭中拿了一支去開門,葛朗臺跟著她。

“葛朗臺!葛朗臺!”他太太莫名其妙地害怕起來,往堂屋門口追上去叫。

牌桌上的人都面面相覷。

“咱們一塊兒去怎么樣?”臺·格拉桑說,“這種敲門有點兒來意不善。”

臺·格拉桑才看見一個青年人的模樣,后面跟著驛站上的腳夫,扛了兩口大箱子,拖了幾個鋪蓋卷,葛朗臺便突然轉(zhuǎn)過身來對太太說:

“玩你們的,太太,讓我來招呼客人。”

說著他把客廳的門使勁一拉。那些騷動的客人都歸了原位,卻并沒玩下去。臺·格拉桑太太問她的丈夫:

“是不是索漠城里的人?”

“不,外地來的。”

“一定是巴黎來的了。”

公證人掏出一只兩指厚的老表,形式像荷蘭戰(zhàn)艦,瞧了瞧說:“不錯,整九點。該死,驛車倒從來不脫班。”

“客人還年輕嗎?”克羅旭神父問。

“年輕,”臺·格拉桑答道,“帶來的行李至少有三百斤。”

“拿儂還不進來?”歐也妮說。

“大概是府上的親戚吧。”所長插了句嘴。

“咱們下注吧,”葛朗臺太太輕聲輕氣地叫道,“聽葛朗臺的聲音,他很不高興;也許他不愿意我們談?wù)撍氖隆?rdquo;

“小姐,”阿道夫?qū)ψ诟舯诘臍W也妮說,“一定是你的堂兄弟葛朗臺,一個挺漂亮的青年,我在紐沁根先生家的跳舞會上見過的。”

阿道夫停住不說了,他給母親踩了一腳;她高聲叫他拿出兩個銅子來押,又咬著他的耳朵:

“別多嘴,你這個傻瓜!”

這時大家聽見拿儂和腳夫走上樓梯的聲音;葛朗臺帶著客人進了堂屋。幾分鐘以來,個個人都給不速之客提足了精神,好奇得不得了,所以他的到場,他的出現(xiàn),在這些人中間,猶如蜂房里掉進了一只蝸牛,或是鄉(xiāng)下黝黑的雞場里闖進了一只孔雀。

“到壁爐這邊來坐吧。”葛朗臺招呼他。

年輕的陌生人就座之前,對眾人客客氣氣鞠了一躬。男客都起身還禮,太太們都深深地福了一福。

“你冷了吧,先生?”葛朗臺太太說,“你大概從……”

葛朗臺捧著一封信在念,馬上停下來截住了太太的話:

“嘿!娘兒腔!不用煩,讓他歇歇再說。”

“可是父親,也許客人需要什么呢。”歐也妮說。

“他會開口的。”老頭厲聲回答。

這種情形只有那位生客覺得奇怪。其余的人都看慣了這個家伙的霸道。客人聽了這兩句問答,不禁站起身子,背對著壁爐,提起一雙腳烘烤靴底,一面對歐也妮說:

“大姊,謝謝你,我在都爾吃過晚飯了。”他又望著葛朗臺說,“什么都不用費心,我也一點兒不覺得累。”

“先生是從京里來的吧?”臺·格拉桑太太問。

查理(這是巴黎葛朗臺的兒子的名字)聽見有人插嘴,便拈起用金鏈掛在項下的小小的手眼鏡,湊在右眼上瞧了瞧桌上的東西和周圍的人物,非常放肆地把眼鏡向臺·格拉桑太太一照,他把一切都看清楚了,才回答說:

“是的,太太。”他又回頭對葛朗臺太太說,“哦,你們在摸彩,伯母。請呀,請呀,玩下去吧,多有趣的玩意兒,怎么好歇手呢!……”

“我早知道他就是那個堂兄弟。”臺·格拉桑太太對他做著媚眼,心里想。

“四十七,”老神父嚷道,“哎,臺·格拉桑太太,放呀,這不是你的號數(shù)嗎?”

臺·格拉桑先生抓起一個碼子替太太放上了紙板。她卻覺得預(yù)兆不好,一忽兒望望巴黎來的堂兄弟,一忽兒望望歐也妮,想不起摸彩的事了。年輕的獨養(yǎng)女兒不時對堂兄弟瞟上幾眼,銀行家太太不難看出她越來越驚訝、越來越好奇的情緒。

注:

[1] 習(xí)藝工場:當初教會設(shè)立來救濟貧苦婦女的地方。——譯注(本書未特別注明的,都是譯注。)

[2] 阿爾邦:每個阿爾邦約等于三十至五十一畝,視地域而定。每畝約等于六百六十七平方米。

[3] 一八一一年制成的酒為法國史上有名的佳釀,是年有彗星出現(xiàn),經(jīng)濟恐慌,工商業(yè)破產(chǎn)者累累。所謂有名的一年是總括上列各項事件而言。

[4] 本名節(jié)日:西俗教徒皆以圣者之名命名。凡自己取名的紀念日,稱為本名節(jié)日。

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