maitre cornelius-第8部分

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both　be　the　victims　if　the　slightest　noise　awakened　him。　But　in　the

young　man's　dream　the　gleam　of　the　lamp；　the　flame　of　their　eyes；　the

colors　of　the　stuffs　and　the　tapestries　were　more　vivid；　more　of　love

was　in　the　air；　more　fire　about　them；　than　there　had　been　in　the

actual　scene。　The　Marie　of　his　sleep　resisted　far　less　than　the　living

Marie　those　adoring　looks；　those　tender　entreaties；　those　adroit

silences；　those　voluptuous　solicitations；　those　false　generosities；

which　render　the　first　moments　of　a　passion　so　completely　ardent；　and

shed　into　the　soul　a　fresh　delirium　at　each　new　step　in　love。



Following　the　amorous　jurisprudence　of　the　period；　Marie　de　Saint…

Vallier　granted　to　her　lover　all　the　superficial　rights　of　the　tender

passion。　She　willingly　allowed　him　to　kiss　her　foot；　her　robe；　her

hands；　her　throat；　she　avowed　her　love；　she　accepted　the　devotion　and

life　of　her　lover；　she　permitted　him　to　die　for　her；　she　yielded　to　an

intoxication　which　the　sternness　of　her　semi…chastity　increased；　but

farther　than　that　she　would　not　go；　and　she　made　her　deliverance　the

price　of　the　highest　rewards　of　his　love。　In　those　days；　in　order　to

dissolve　a　marriage　it　was　necessary　to　go　to　Rome；　to　obtain　the　help

of　certain　cardinals；　and　to　appear　before　the　sovereign　pontiff　in

person　armed　with　the　approval　of　the　king。　Marie　was　firm　in

maintaining　her　liberty　to　love；　that　she　might　sacrifice　it　to　him

later。　Nearly　every　woman　in　those　days　had　sufficient　power　to

establish　her　empire　over　the　heart　of　a　man　in　a　way　to　make　that

passion　the　history　of　his　whole　life；　the　spring　and　principle　of　his

highest　resolutions。　Women　were　a　power　in　France；　they　were　so　many

sovereigns；　they　had　forms　of　noble　pride；　their　lovers　belonged　to

them　far　more　than　they　gave　themselves　to　their　lovers；　often　their

love　cost　blood；　and　to　be　their　lover　it　was　necessary　to　incur　great

dangers。　But　the　Marie　of　his　dream　made　small　defence　against　the

young　seigneur's　ardent　entreaties。　Which　of　the　two　was　the　reality？

Did　the　false　apprentice　in　his　dream　see　the　true　woman？　Had　he　seen

in　the　hotel　de　Poitiers　a　lady　masked　in　virtue？　The　question　is

difficult　to　decide；　and　the　honor　of　women　demands　that　it　be　left；

as　it　were；　in　litigation。



At　the　moment　when　the　Marie　of　the　dream　may　have　been　about　to

forget　her　high　dignity　as　mistress；　the　lover　felt　himself　seized　by

an　iron　hand；　and　the　sour　voice　of　the　grand　provost　said　to　him：



〃Come；　midnight　Christian；　who　seeks　God　on　the　roofs；　wake　up！〃



The　young　man　saw　the　black　face　of　Tristan　l'Hermite　above　him；　and

recognized　his　sardonic　smile；　then；　on　the　steps　of　the　corkscrew

staircase；　he　saw　Cornelius；　his　sister；　and　behind　them　the　provost

guard。　At　that　sight；　and　observing　the　diabolical　faces　expressing

either　hatred　or　curiosity　of　persons　whose　business　it　was　to　hang

others；　the　so…called　Philippe　Goulenoire　sat　up　on　his　pallet　and

rubbed　his　eyes。



〃Mort…Dieu！〃　he　cried；　seizing　his　dagger；　which　was　under　the　pillow。

〃Now　is　the　time　to　play　our　knives。〃



〃Ho；　ho！〃　cried　Tristan；　〃that's　the　speech　of　a　noble。　Methinks　I　see

Georges　d'Estouteville；　the　nephew　of　the　grand　master　of　the　archers。



Hearing　his　real　name　uttered　by　Tristan；　young　d'Estouteville　thought

less　of　himself　than　of　the　dangers　his　recognition　would　bring　upon

his　unfortunate　mistress。　To　avert　suspicion　he　cried　out：



〃Ventre…Mahom！　help；　help　to　me；　comrades！〃



After　that　outcry；　made　by　a　man　who　was　really　in　despair；　the　young

courtier　gave　a　bound；　dagger　in　hand；　and　reached　the　landing。　But

the　myrmidons　of　the　grand　provost　were　accustomed　to　such

proceedings。　When　Georges　d'Estouteville　reached　the　stairs　they

seized　him　dexterously；　not　surprised　by　the　vigorous　thrust　he　made

at　them　with　his　dagger；　the　blade　of　which　fortunately　slipped　on　the

corselet　of　a　guard；　then；　having　disarmed　him；　they　bound　his　hands；

and　threw　him　on　the　pallet　before　their　leader；　who　stood　motionless

and　thoughtful。



Tristan　looked　silently　at　the　prisoner's　hands；　then　he　said　to

Cornelius；　pointing　to　them：



〃Those　are　not　the　hands　of　a　beggar；　nor　of　an　apprentice。　He　is　a

noble。〃



〃Say　a　thief！〃　cried　the　torconnier。　〃My　good　Tristan；　noble　or　serf；

he　has　ruined　me；　the　villain！　I　want　to　see　his　feet　warmed　in　your

pretty　boots。　He　is；　I　don't　doubt　it；　the　leader　of　that　gang　of

devils；　visible　and　invisible；　who　know　all　my　secrets；　open　my　locks；

rob　me；　murder　me！　They　have　grown　rich　out　of　me；　Tristan。　Ha！　this

time　we　shall　get　back　the　treasure；　for　the　fellow　has　the　face　of

the　king　of　Egypt。　I　shall　recover　my　dear　rubies；　and　all　the　sums　I

have　lost；　and　our　worthy　king　shall　have　his　share　in　the　harvest。〃



〃Oh；　our　hiding…places　are　much　more　secure　than　yours！〃　said　Georges；

smiling。



〃Ha！　the　damned　thief；　he　confesses！〃　cried　the　miser。



The　grand　provost　was　engaged　in　attentively　examining　Georges

d'Estouteville's　clothes　and　the　lock　of　the　door。



〃How　did　you　get　out　those　screws？〃



Georges　kept　silence。



〃Oh；　very　good；　be　silent　if　you　choose。　You　will　soon　confess　on　the

holy　rack；〃　said　Tristan。



〃That's　what　I　call　business！〃　cried　Cornelius。



〃Take　him　off；〃　said　the　grand　provost　to　the　guards。



Georges　d'Estouteville　asked　permission　to　dress　himself。　On　a　sign

from　their　chief；　the　men　put　on　his　clothing　with　the　clever　rapidity

of　a　nurse　who　profits　by　the　momentary　tranquillity　of　her　nursling。



An　immense　crowd　cumbered　the　rue　du　Murier。　The　growls　of　the

populace　kept　increasing；　and　seemed　the　precursors　of　a　riot。　From

early　morning　the　news　of　the　robbery　had　spread　through　the　town。　On

all　sides　the　〃apprentice；〃　said　to　be　young　and　handsome；　had

awakened　public　sympathy；　and　revived　the　hatred　felt　against

Cornelius；　so　that　there　was　not　a　young　man　in　the　town；　nor　a　young

woman　with　a　fresh　face　and　pretty　feet　to　exhibit；　who　was　not

determined　to　see　the　victim。　When　Georges　issued　from　the　house；　led

by　one　of　the　provost's　guard；　who；　after　he　had　mounted　his　horse；

kept　the　strong　leathern　thong　that　bound　the　prisoner　tightly　twisted

round　his　arm；　a　horrible　uproar　arose。　Whether　the　populace　merely

wished　to　see　this　new　victim；　or　whether　it　intended　to　rescue　him；

certain　it　is　that　those　behind　pressed　those　in　front　upon　the　little

squad　of　cavalry　posted　around　the　Malemaison。　At　this　moment；

Cornelius；　aided　by　his　sister；　closed　the　door；　and　slammed　the　iron

shutters　with　the　violence　of　panic　terror。　Tristan；　who　was　not

accustomed　to　respect　the　populace　of　those　days　（inasmuch　as　they

were　not　yet　the　sovereign　people）；　cared　little　for　a　probable　riot。



〃Push　on！　push　on！〃　he　said　to　his　men。



At　the　voice　of　their　leader　the　archers　spurred　their　horses　towards

the　end　of　the　street。　The　crowd；　seeing　one　or　two　of　their　number

knocked　down　by　the　horses　and　trampled　on；　and　some　others　pressed

against　the　sides　of　the　horses　and　nearly　suffocated；　took　the　wiser

course　of　retreating　to　their　homes。



〃Make　room　for　the　king's　justice！〃　cried　Tristan。　〃What　are　you　doing

here？　Do　you　want　to　be　hanged　too？　Go　home；　my　friends；　go　home；　your

dinner　is　getting　burnt。　Hey！　my　good　woman；　go　and　darn　your

husband's　stockings；　get　back　to　your　needles。〃



Though　such　speeches　showed　that　the　grand　provost　was　in　good　humor；

they　made　the　most　obstreperous　fly　as　if　he　were　flinging　the　plague

upon　them。



At　the　moment　when　the　first　movement　of　the　crowd　took　place；　Georges

d'Estouteville　was　stupefied　at　seeing；　at　one　of　the　windows　of　the

hotel　de　Poitiers；　his　dear　Marie　de　Saint…Vallier；　laughing　with　the

count。　She　was　mocking　at　HIM；　poor　devoted　lover；　who　was　going　to

his　death　for　her。　But　perhaps　she　was　only　amused　at　seeing　the　caps

of　the　populace　carried　off　on　the　spears　of　the　archers。　We　must　be

twenty…three　years　old；　rich　in　illusions；　able　to　believe　in　a

woman's　love；　loving　ourselves　with　all　the　forces　of　our　being；

risking　our　life　with　delight　on　the　faith　of　a　kiss；　and　then

betrayed；　to　understand　the　fury　of　hatred　and　despair　which　took

possession　of　Georges　d'Estouteville's　heart　at　the　sight　of　his

laughing　mistress；　from　whom　he　received　a　cold　and　indifferent

glance。　No　doubt　she　had　been　there　some　time；　she　was　leaning　from

the　window　with　her　arms　on　a　cushion；　she　was　at　her　ease；　and　her

old　man　seemed　content。　He；　too；　was　laughing；　the　cursed　hunchback！　A

few　tears　escaped　the　eyes　of　the　young　man；　but　when　Marie　de　Saint…

Vallier　saw　them　she　turned　hastily　away。　Those　tears　were　suddenly

dried；　however；　when　Georges　beheld　the　red　and　white　plumes　of　the

page　who　was　devoted　to　his　interests。　The　count　took　no　notice　of

this　servitor；　who　advanced　to　his　mistress　on　tiptoe。　After　the　page

had　said　a　few　words　in　her　ear；　Marie　returned　to　the　window。

Escaping　for　a　moment　the　perpetual　watchfulness　of　her　tyrant；　she

cast　one　glance　upon　Georges　that　was　brilliant　with　the　fires　of　love

and　hope；　seeming　to　say：



〃I　am　watching　over　you。〃



Had　she　cried　the　words　aloud；　she　could　not　have　expressed　their

meaning　more　plainly　than　in　that　glance；　full　of　a　thousand　thoughts；

in　which　terror；　hope；　pleasure；　the　dangers　of　their　mutual　situation

all　took　part。　He　had　passed；　in　that　one　moment；　from　heaven　to

martyrdom　and　from　martyrdom　back　to　heaven！　So　then；　the　brave　young

seigneur；　light…hearted　and　content；　walked　gaily　to　his　doom；

thinking　that　the　horrors　of　the　〃question〃　were　not　sufficient

payment　for　the　delights　of　his　love。



As　Tristan　was　about　leaving　the　rue　du　Murier；　his　people　stopped

him；　seeing　an　officer　of　the　Scottish　guard　riding　towards　them　at

full　speed。



〃What　is　it？〃　asked　the　provost。



〃Nothing　that　concer