the duchesse de langeais-第38章

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〃She　is　certainly　there！　　Tomorrow　she　will　be　mine；〃　he　said　to　himself；　and　joy　blended　with　the　slow　tinkling　of　a　bell　that　began　to　ring。

Strange　unaccountable　workings　of　the　heart！　　The　nun；　wasted　by　yearning　love；　worn　out　with　tears　and　fasting；　prayer　and　vigils；　the　woman　of　nine…and…twenty；　who　had　passed　through　heavy　trials；　was　loved　more　passionately　than　the　lighthearted　girl；　the　woman　of　four…and…twenty；　the　sylphide；　had　ever　been。　　But　is　there　not；　for　men　of　vigorous　character；　something　attractive　in　the　sublime　expression　engraven　on　women's　faces　by　the　impetuous　stirrings　of　thought　and　misfortunes　of　no　ignoble　kind？　　Is　there　not　a　beauty　of　suffering　which　is　the　most　interesting　of　all　beauty　to　those　men　who　feel　that　within　them　there　is　an　inexhaustible　wealth　of　tenderness　and　consoling　pity　for　a　creature　so　gracious　in　weakness；　so　strong　with　love？　　It　is　the　ordinary　nature　that　is　attracted　by　young；　smooth；　pink…and…white　beauty；　or；　in　one　word；　by　prettiness。　　In　some　faces　love　awakens　amid　the　wrinkles　carved　by　sorrow　and　the　ruin　made　by　melancholy；　Montriveau　could　not　but　feel　drawn　to　these。　　For　cannot　a　lover；　with　the　voice　of　a　great　longing；　call　forth　a　wholly　new　creature？　a　creature　athrob　with　the　life　but　just　begun　breaks　forth　for　him　alone；　from　the　outward　form　that　is　fair　for　him；　and　faded　for　all　the　world　besides。　　Does　he　not　love　two　women？One　of　them；　as　others　see　her；　is　pale　and　wan　and　sad；　but　the　other；　the　unseen　love　that　his　heart　knows；　is　an　angel　who　understands　life　through　feeling；　and　is　adorned　in　all　her　glory　only　for　love's　high　festivals。

The　General　left　his　post　before　sunrise；　but　not　before　he　had　heard　voices　singing　together；　sweet　voices　full　of　tenderness　sounding　faintly　from　the　cell。　　When　he　came　down　to　the　foot　of　the　cliffs　where　his　friends　were　waiting；　he　told　them　that　never　in　his　life　had　he　felt　such　enthralling　bliss；　and　in　the　few　words　there　was　that　unmistakable　thrill　of　repressed　strong　feeling；　that　magnificent　utterance　which　all　men　respect。

That　night　eleven　of　his　devoted　comrades　made　the　ascent　in　the　darkness。　　Each　man　carried　a　poniard；　a　provision　of　chocolate；　and　a　set　of　house…breaking　tools。　　They　climbed　the　outer　walls　with　scaling…ladders；　and　crossed　the　cemetery　of　the　convent。　　Montriveau　recognised　the　long；　vaulted　gallery　through　which　he　went　to　the　parlour；　and　remembered　the　windows　of　the　room。　　His　plans　were　made　and　adopted　in　a　moment。　　They　would　effect　an　entrance　through　one　of　the　windows　in　the　Carmelite's　half　of　the　parlour；　find　their　way　along　the　corridors；　ascertain　whether　the　sister's　names　were　written　on　the　doors；　find　Sister　Theresa's　cell；　surprise　her　as　she　slept；　and　carry　her　off；　bound　and　gagged。　　The　programme　presented　no　difficulties　to　men　who　combined　boldness　and　a　convict's　dexterity　with　the　knowledge　peculiar　to　men　of　the　world；　especially　as　they　would　not　scruple　to　give　a　stab　to　ensure　silence。

In　two　hours　the　bars　were　sawn　through。　　Three　men　stood　on　guard　outside；　and　two　inside　the　parlour。　　The　rest；　barefooted；　took　up　their　posts　along　the　corridor。　　Young　Henri　de　Marsay；　the　most　dexterous　man　among　them；　disguised　by　way　of　precaution　in　a　Carmelite's　robe；　exactly　like　the　costume　of　the　convent；　led　the　way；　and　Montriveau　came　immediately　behind　him。　　The　clock　struck　three　just　as　the　two　men　reached　the　dormitory　cells。　　They　soon　saw　the　position。　　Everything　was　perfectly　quiet。　　With　the　help　of　a　dark　lantern　they　read　the　names　luckily　written　on　every　door；　together　with　the　picture　of　a　saint　or　saints　and　the　mystical　words　which　every　nun　takes　as　a　kind　of　motto　for　the　beginning　of　her　new　life　and　the　revelation　of　her　last　thought。　　Montriveau　reached　Sister　Theresa's　door　and　read　the　inscription；　Sub　invocatione　sanctae　matris　Theresae；　and　her　motto；　Adoremus　in　aeternum。　　Suddenly　his　companion　laid　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　　A　bright　light　was　streaming　through　the　chinks　of　the　door。　　M。　de　Ronquerolles　came　up　at　that　moment。

〃All　the　nuns　are　in　the　church；〃　he　said；　〃they　are　beginning　the　Office　for　the　Dead。〃

〃I　will　stay　here；〃　said　Montriveau。　　〃Go　back　into　the　parlour；　and　shut　the　door　at　the　end　of　the　passage。〃

He　threw　open　the　door　and　rushed　in；　preceded　by　his　disguised　companion；　who　let　down　the　veil　over　his　face。

There　before　them　lay　the　dead　Duchess；　her　plank　bed　had　been　laid　on　the　floor　of　the　outer　room　of　her　cell；　between　two　lighted　candles。　　Neither　Montriveau　nor　de　Marsay　spoke　a　word　or　uttered　a　cry；　but　they　looked　into　each　other's　faces。　　The　General's　dumb　gesture　tried　to　say；　〃Let　us　carry　her　away！〃

〃Quickly〃　shouted　Ronquerolles；　〃the　procession　of　nuns　is　leaving　the　church。　　You　will　be　caught！〃

With　magical　swiftness　of　movement；　prompted　by　an　intense　desire；　the　dead　woman　was　carried　into　the　convent　parlour；　passed　through　the　window；　and　lowered　from　the　walls　before　the　Abbess；　followed　by　the　nuns；　returned　to　take　up　Sister　Theresa's　body。　　The　sister　left　in　charge　had　imprudently　left　her　post；　there　were　secrets　that　she　longed　to　know；　and　so　busy　was　she　ransacking　the　inner　room；　that　she　heard　nothing；　and　was　horrified　when　she　came　back　to　find　that　the　body　was　gone。　　Before　the　women；　in　their　blank　amazement；　could　think　of　making　a　search；　the　Duchess　had　been　lowered　by　a　cord　to　the　foot　of　the　crags；　and　Montriveau's　companions　had　destroyed　all　traces　of　their　work。　　By　nine　o'clock　that　morning　there　was　not　a　sign　to　show　that　either　staircase　or　wire…cables　had　ever　existed；　and　Sister　Theresa's　body　had　been　taken　on　board。　　The　brig　came　into　the　port　to　ship　her　crew；　and　sailed　that　day。

Montriveau；　down　in　the　cabin；　was　left　alone　with　Antoinette　de　Navarreins。　　For　some　hours　it　seemed　as　if　her　dead　face　was　transfigured　for　him　by　that　unearthly　beauty　which　the　calm　of　death　gives　to　the　body　before　it　perishes。

〃Look　here；〃　said　Ronquerolles　when　Montriveau　reappeared　on　deck；　〃THAT　was　a　woman　once；　now　it　is　nothing。　　Let　us　tie　a　cannon　ball　to　both　feet　and　throw　the　body　overboard；　and　if　ever　you　think　of　her　again；　think　of　her　as　of　some　book　that　you　read　as　a　boy。〃

〃Yes；〃　assented　Montriveau；　〃it　is　nothing　now　but　a　dream。〃

〃That　is　sensible　of　you。　　Now；　after　this；　have　passions；　but　as　for　love；　a　man　ought　to　know　how　to　place　it　wisely；　it　is　only　a　woman's　last　love　that　can　satisfy　a　man's　first　love。〃





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