The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence. Эжен Сю
Читать онлайн книгу.
Dufour, smiling sadly. "I am not the only person who regrets your departure, you see."
CHAPTER X
AFTER the servant's departure, Henri David, still under the painful impression which his friend's revelations on the subject of Marie Bastien had produced, remained silent for several minutes.
Doctor Dufour, too, was silent and thoughtful, for the servant's announcement had reminded him that he was soon to be separated from his dearest friend, perhaps for years.
Henri was the first to speak.
"You were right, Pierre, I shall take away with me a delightful recollection of this charming Madame Bastien. What you have just told me will often be a subject of pleasant thought to me, and – "
"I understand you, Henri, and you must forgive me for not having thought of it sooner," exclaimed the doctor, noting his friend's emotion, "the sight of this youth must remind you – "
"Yes, the sight of this youth does remind me of one I can never forget, my poor Fernand," said Henri, seeing the doctor hesitate. "He was about Frederick's age, so it is only natural that this handsome boy should excite my interest, an interest which is naturally increased by the admiration I feel for his brave and devoted mother. Heaven grant that, after all her love and devotion, her son is not going to be a disappointment to her. But how is it that, after he has been reared with such care and solicitude, he should now give his mother such grave cause for anxiety?"
"The fact is that this lad, whom you have just seen so pale and thin and sullen and irascible, was full of health and gaiety and good humour only a few months ago. Then the relations that existed between his mother and himself were of the most charming as well as affectionate character imaginable, while his generosity of heart could not have failed to excite your liveliest admiration."
"Poor boy," said Henri David, compassionately. "I believe you, Pierre, for there is such an expression of sadness and bitterness on his handsome face. It is evident that he is not bad at heart. It seems to me more as if he were suffering from some secret malady," added Henri, thoughtfully. "How strange it is that there should be such a remarkable change in him in so short a time!"
"I cannot understand it myself," replied the doctor, "for heart and mind and body all seem to have been attacked at the same time. A short time ago study was a pleasure to Frederick, his imagination was brilliant, his mental faculties almost precocious in their development. All this is changed now, and about a month ago his mother, distressed at the state of apathy into which her son had so suddenly relapsed, decided to employ a tutor for him, hoping that a change of instructors and new branches of study, more especially those of natural science, would act as a sort of stimulant."
"Well?"
"At the end of a week the tutor, disgusted with Frederick's dullness, rudeness, and violence, left the house."
"But to what do you attribute this remarkable change?"
"I thought and still think that it is due to natural or rather physical causes. There are many instances of similar crises in youths on attaining the age of puberty. It is a time of life when the salient traits of character begin to manifest themselves, when the man succeeding the youth begins to show what he is going to be some day. This metamorphosis nearly always causes serious disturbance throughout the entire system, and it is quite probable that Frederick is now under the influence of this phenomenon."
"Doesn't this very plausible explanation reassure Madame Bastien?"
"One can never entirely reassure a mother, at least a mother like that. The reasons I gave her calmed her fears for awhile, but the trouble increased and she took fright again. In her interview with me just now she made no attempt to disguise her fears, and even accused herself of being to blame for the recent state of things. 'I am his mother and yet I cannot divine what is the matter with him, so I certainly must be lacking in penetration and in maternal instinct. I am his mother, and yet he will not tell me the cause of the trouble that is killing him. It is my fault. It must be. I cannot have been a good mother. A mother has always done something wrong if she cannot succeed in gaining her child's confidence.'"
"Poor woman!" exclaimed Henri. "She wrongs herself, though, in considering her maternal instinct in fault."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, doesn't her instinct warn her that you are wrong, plausible as your explanation of her son's condition is, for, in spite of her confidence in you, and in spite of the desire she feels to be reassured, your assurances have not calmed her fears."
Then, after sitting silent and thoughtful for a moment, Henri asked:
"Is that large building we see there in the distance the Château de Pont Brillant?"
"Yes. Its owner, the young marquis, was in the party that passed just now. But why do you ask?"
"Does Madame Bastien's son visit there?"
"Oh, no. The Pont Brillants are a very proud and aristocratic family, and associate only with the nobility."
"So Frederick does not even know the young marquis?"
"If he does, it is only by sight, for I repeat the young marquis is much too proud to have anything to do with a youth of Frederick's humble station."
"Is this family popular?" inquired Henri David, more and more thoughtfully.
"The Pont Brillants are immensely rich, nearly all the land for six or seven leagues around belongs to them. They own, too, most of the houses in this little town. The tradespeople, too, are of course largely dependent upon their patronage, so this powerful family command at least a strong show of respect and attachment. There is also a certain amount of money given to the poor every year by the family. The mayor and the curé distribute it, however. The young marquis has nothing more to do with that than his grandmother, whose skepticism and cynicism make Baron Holbach's atheism seem pale by comparison. But why do you ask all these questions in relation to the château and its occupants?"
"Because just now when I was alone with Frederick I thought I discovered that he hated this young marquis with a deadly hatred."
"Frederick?" exclaimed the doctor, with quite as much surprise as incredulity. "That is impossible. I am sure he never spoke to M. de Pont Brillant in his life. So how could he possibly feel any such animosity against the young marquis?"
"I do not know, but I am sure, from what I have seen, that he does."
"What you have seen?"
"The horse that brought Frederick and his mother here, not being hitched, evinced an intention of joining the brillant cortège as it passed. The young marquis struck it a heavy blow with his whip and drove it back, and if I had not restrained Frederick, he would have jumped out of the window and flown at M. de Pont Brillant."
"So it was in order not to frighten Madame Bastien you told us – "
"That Frederick had imprudently leaned too far out of the window. Yes, Pierre, I repeat it, I did not lose a gesture or the slightest change of expression in the poor boy's face. It is hatred, a deadly hatred, that he feels for the other youth."
"But I tell you that Madame Bastien's son has never even spoken to Raoul de Pont Brillant. They live in two entirely different worlds. They can never have come in the slightest contact with each other."
"True. Your reasoning seems perfectly just, and I suppose I ought to acquiesce," replied Henri David, thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, something tells me that I am right, and now I almost begin to regret having met this charming woman, for the very reason that she and her son have inspired me with such a deep interest."
"What do you mean?"
"Frankly, my friend, what can be more sad than to feel a commiseration as profound as it is futile? Who could be more worthy of sympathy and respect than this most unhappily married woman, who has lived even cheerfully for years in almost complete solitude, uncomplainingly, with a son as handsome, sensible, and intelligent as herself? And suddenly at one fell swoop this life is blighted; the mother watches with growing despair the progress of the mysterious malady the cause of which she has striven in vain to discover. Ah, I can understand only too well the agony of an experience like hers,