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maitre cornelius-第9部分

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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 concerns you;〃 replied the officer; disdainfully。 〃The

king has sent me to fetch the Comte and Comtesse de Saint…Vallier;

whom he invites to dinner。〃



The grand provost had scarcely reached the embankment leading to

Plessis; when the count and his wife; both mounted; she on her white

mule; he on his horse; and followed by two pages; joined the archers;

in order to enter Plessis…lez…Tours in company。 All were moving

slowly。 Georges was on foot; between two guards on horseback; one of

whom held him still by the leathern thong。 Tristan; the count; and his

wife were naturally in advance; the criminal followed them。 Mingling

with the archers; the young page questioned them; speaking sometimes

to the prisoner; so that he adroitly managed to say to him in a low

voice:



〃I jumped the garden wall and took a letter to Plessis from madame to

the king。 She came near dying when she heard of the accusation against

you。 Take courage。 She is going now to speak to the king about you。〃



Love had
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