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the crime of sylvestre bonnard-第39章

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〃Aha! my unlucky youth; you are very far from suspecting that I overheard what you said; and that I know what you think of meor; at least; what you did think of me that day; for these young minds are so fickle?  I have got you now; my friend!  You have fallen into the lion's den; and so unexpectedly; in good sooth; that the astonished old lion does not know what to do with his prey。  But come now; old lion! do not act like an idiot!  Is it not possible that you were an idiot?  If you are not one now; you certainly were one!  You were a fool to have been listening to Monsieur Gelis at the foot of the statue of Marguerite de Valois; you were doubly a fool to have heard what he said; and you were trebly a fool not to have forgotten what it would have been much better never to have heard。〃

Having thus scolded the old lion; I exhorted him to show clemency。 He did not appear to require much coaxing; and gradually became so good…natured that he had some difficulty in restraining himself from bursting out into joyous roarings。  From the way in which I had read my colleague's letter one might have supposed me a man who did not know his alphabet。  I took a long while to read it; and Monsieur Gelis might have become very tired under different circumstances; but he was watching Jeanne; and endured the trial with exemplary patience。  Jeanne occasionally turned her face in our direction。  Well you could not expect a person to remain perfectly motionless; could you?  Mademoiselle Prefere was arranging her curls; and her bosom occasionally swelled with little sighs。 It may be observed that I have myself often been honoured with those little sighs。

〃Monsieur;〃 I said; as I folded up the letter; 〃I shall be very happy to be of any service to you。  You are occupied with researches in which I myself have always felt a very lively interest。  I have done all that lay in my power。  I know; as you doand still better than you can knowhow much there remains to do。  The manuscript you asked for is at your disposal; you may take it home with you; but it is not a manuscript of the smallest kind; and I am afraid…〃

〃Oh; Monsieur;〃 said Gelis; 〃big books have never been able to make me afraid of them。〃

I begged the young man to wait for me; and I went into the next room to get the Register; which I could not find at first; and which I almost despaired of finding; as I discerned; from certain familiar signs; that Therese had been setting the room in order。  But the Register was so big and so heavy that; luckily for me; Therese had not been able to put it in order as she had doubtless wished to do。 I could scarcely lift it up myself; and I had the pleasure of finding it quite as heavy as I could have hoped。

〃Wait; my boy;〃 I said; with a smile which must have been very sarcastic〃wait!  I am going to give you something to do which will break your arms first; and afterwards your head。  That will be the first vengeance of Sylvestre Bonnard。  Later on we shall see what else there is to be done。〃

When I returned to the City of Books I heard Monsieur Gelis and Mademoiselle Jeanne chattingchatting together; if you please! as if they were the best friends in the world。  Mademoiselle Prefere; being full of decorum; did not say anything; but the other two were chatting like birds。  And what about?  About the blond tint used by Venetian painters!  Yes; about the 〃Venetian blond。〃  That little serpent of a Gelis was telling Jeanne the secret of the dye with which; according to the best authorities; the women of Titian and of Veronese tinted their hair。  And Mademoiselle Jeanne was expressing her opinion very prettily about the honey tint and the golden tint。 I understood that that scamp of a Vecellio was responsiblethat they had been bending over the book together; and that they had been admiring either that Doge's wife we had been looking at awhile before; or some other patrician woman of Venice。

Never mind!  I appeared with my enormous old book; thinking that Gelis was going to make a grimace。  It was as much as one could have asked a porter to carry; and my arms were stiff merely with lifting it。  But the young man caught it up like a feather; and slipped it under his arm with a smile。  Then he thanked me with that sort of brevity which I like; reminded me that he had need of my advice; and; having made an appointment to meet me another day; took his departure after bowing to us with the most perfect self…possession conceivable。

〃He seems quite a decent lad;〃 I said。

Jeanne turned over a few more pages of Vecellio; and made no answer。

〃Aha!〃 I thought to myself。。。。  And then we went to Saint…Cloud。


September…December。


The regularity with which visit succeeded visit to the old man's house thereafter made me feel very grateful to Mademoiselle Prefere; who succeeded at last in winning her right to occupy a special corner in the City of Books。  She now says 〃MY chair;〃 〃MY footstool;〃 〃MY pigeon hole。〃  Her pigeon hole is really a small shelf properly belonging to the poets of La Champagne; whom she expelled therefrom in order to obtain a lodging for her work…bag。  She is very amiable; and I must really be a monster not to like her。  I can only endure herin the severest signification of the word。  But what would one not endure for Jeanne's sake?  Her presence lends to the City of Books a charm which seems to hover about it even after she has gone。 She is very ignorant; but she is so finely gifted that whenever I show her anything beautiful I am astounded to find that I had never really seen it before; and that it is she who makes me see it。  I have found it impossible so far to make her follow some of my ideas; but I have often found pleasure in following the whimsical and delicate course of her own。

A more practical man than I would attempt to teach her to make herself useful; but is not the capacity of being amiable a useful think in life?  Without being pretty; she charms; and the power to charm is perhaps; after all; worth quite as much as the ability to darn stockings。  Furthermore; I am not immortal; and I doubt whether she will have become very old when my notary (who is not Maitre Mouche) shall read to her a certain paper which I signed a little while ago。

I do not wish that any one except myself should provide for her; and give her her dowry。  I am not; however; very rich; and the paternal inheritance did not gain bulk in my hands。  One does not accumulate money by poring over old texts。  But my booksat the price which such noble merchandise fetches to…dayare worth something。  Why; on that shelf there are some poets of the sixteenth century for which bankers would bid against princes!  And I think that those 〃Heures〃 of Simon Vostre would not be readily overlooked at the Hotel Sylvestre any more than would those Preces Piae compiled for the use of Queen Claude。  I have taken great pains to collect and to preserve all those rare and curious editions which people the City of Books; and for a long time I used to believe that they were as necessary to my life as air and light。  I have loved them well; and even now I cannot prevent myself from smiling at them and caressing them。  Those morocco bindings are so delightful to th
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