the nabob-第79章
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In the antechamber； peaceful also； two enormous lamps were burning。 A footman slept in a corner； the porter was reading before the fireplace。 He looked at the new arrival over his spectacles； made no remark； and Jansoulet dared ask no question。 Piles of newspapers lying on the table in their wrappers； addressed to the duke； seemed to have been thrown there as useless。 The Nabob took up one of them； opened it； and tried to read； but quick and gliding steps； a muttered chanting； made him lift his eyes； and he saw a white…haired and bent old man； decked out in lace as though he had been an altar； who was praying aloud as he departed with a long priestly stride； his ample red cassock spreading in a train over the carpet。 It was the Archbishop of Paris； accompanied by two assistants。 The vision； with its murmur as of an icy north wind； passed quickly before Jansoulet； plunged into the great carriage and disappeared； carrying away with it his last hope。
〃Doing the right thing； /mon cher/；〃 remarked Monpavon； appearing suddenly at his side。 〃Mora is an epicurean； brought up in the ideas of how do you sayyou knowwhat is it you call it？ Eighteenth century。 Very bad for the masses； if a man in his positionpsps ps Ah； he is the master who sets us all an examplepsps irreproachable manners！〃
〃Then； it is all over？〃 said Jansoulet； overwhelmed。 〃There is no longer any hope？〃
Monpavon signed to him to listen。 A carriage rolled heavily along the avenue on the quay。 The visitors' bell rang sharply several times in succession。 The marquis counted aloud： 〃One； two； three； four。〃 At the fifth he rose：
〃No more hope now。 Here comes the other；〃 said he； alluding to the Parisian superstition that a visit from the sovereign was always fatal to dying persons。 From every side the lackeys hastened up； opened the doors wide； ranged themselves in line； while the porter； his hat cocked forward and his staff resounding on the marble floor； announced the passage of two august shadows； of whom Jansoulet only caught a confused glimpse behind the liveried domestics； but whom he saw beyond a long perspective of open doors climbing the great staircase； preceded by a footman bearing a candelabrum。 The woman ascended； erect and proud； enveloped in a black Spanish mantilla； the man supported himself by the baluster； slower in his movements and tired； the collar of his light overcoat turned up above a rather bent back； which was shaken by a convulsive sob。
〃Let us be off； Nabob。 Nothing more to be done here；〃 said the old beau； taking Jansoulet by the arm and drawing him outside。 He paused on the threshold； with raised hand； making a little gesture of farewell in the direction of the man who lay dying upstairs。 〃Good…bye old fellow！〃 The gesture and the tone were polite； irreproachable； but the voice trembled a little。
The club in the Rue Royale； which was famous for its gambling parties； rarely saw one so desperate as the gaming of that night。 It commenced at eleven o'clock and was still going on at five in the morning。 Enormous sums were scattered over the green cloth； changing hands； moved now to one side； now to the other； heaped up； distributed； regained。 Fortunes were engulfed in this monster play； at the end of which the Nabob； who had started it to forget his terrors in the hazards of chance； after singular alternations and runs of luck enough to turn the hair of a beginner white； retired with winnings amounting to five hundred thousand francs。 On the boulevard the next day they said five millions； and everybody cried out on the scandal； especially the /Messenger/； three…quarters filled by an article against certain adventurers tolerated in the clubs； and who cause the ruin of the most honourable families。
Alas！ what Jansoulet had won hardly represented enough to meet the first Schwalbach bills。
During this wild play； of which Mora was； however； the involuntary cause； and； as it were； the soul； his name was not once uttered。 Neither Cardailhac nor Jenkins put in an appearance。 Monpavon had taken to his bed； stricken more deeply than he wished it to be thought。 Nobody had any news。
〃Is he dead？〃 Jansoulet said to himself as he left the club； and he felt a desire to make a call to inquire before going home。 It was no longer hope that urged him； but that sort of morbid and nervous curiosity which after a great fire leads the smitten unfortunate people； ruined and homeless； back to the wreck of their dwellings。
Although it was still very early； and a pink mist of dawn hung in the sky； the whole mansion stood open as if for a solemn departure。 The lamps still smoked over the fire…places； dust floated about the rooms。 The Nabob advanced amid an inexplicable solitude of desertion to the first floor； where at last he heard a voice he knew； that of Cardailhac； who was dictating names； and the scratching of pens over paper。 The clever stage…manager of the festivities in honour of the Bey was organizing with the same ardour the funeral pomps of the Duc de Mora。 What activity！ His excellency had died during the evening； when morning came already ten thousand letters were being printed； and everybody in the house who could hold a pen was busy with the writing of the addresses。 Without passing through these improvised offices； Jansoulet reached the waiting…room； ordinarily so crowded； to…day with all its arm…chairs empty。 In the middle； on a table； lay the hat； cane； and gloves of M。 le Duc； always ready in case he should go out unexpectedly； so as to save him even the trouble of giving an order。 The objects that we always wear keep about them something of ourselves。 The curve of the hat suggested that of the mustache； the light…coloured gloves were ready to grasp the supple and strong Chinese cane； the total effect was one of life and energy； as if the duke were about to appear； stretch out his hand while talking； take up those things； and go out。
Oh； no。 M。 le Duc was not going out。 Jansoulet had but to approach the half…open door of the bed…chamber to see on the bed； raised three stepsalways the platform even after deatha rigid； haughty form； a motionless and aged profile； metamorphosed by the beard's growth of a night； quite gray； near the sloping pillow； kneeling and burying her head in the white drapery； was a woman； whose fair hair lay in rippled disorder； ready to fall beneath the shears of eternal widowhood； then a priest and a nun； gathered in this atmosphere of watch by the dead； in which are mingled the fatigue of sleepless nights and the murmurs of prayer。
The chamber in which so many ambitions had strengthened their wings； so many hopes and disappointments had throbbed； was wholly given over now to the peace of passing Death。 Not a sound； not a sigh。 Only； notwithstanding the early hour； away yonder； towards the Pont de la Concorde； a little clarinet； shrill and sharp； could be heard above the rumbling of the first vehicles； but its exasperating mockery was henceforth lost on him who lay there asleep； showing to the terrified Nabob an image of his own destiny； chilled； discoloured； ready for the tomb。
Others besides Jansoulet found that death…chamber lugubrious： the windows wide open； the night and the wind entering freely from the garden； making a strong draught； a human form on a table； the body； which had just been embalmed； the hollow skull filled with a sponge； the brain in a basin。 The weight of this brain of a statesman was truly extraordinary。 It weighedit weighedthe newspapers of the period mentioned the figure。 But who remembers it to…day？
THE FUNERAL
〃Don't weep； my fairy； you rob me of all my courage。 Come； you will be a great deal happier when you no longer have your terrible demon。 You will go back to Fontainebleau and look after your chickens。 The ten thousand francs from Brahim will help to get you settled down。 And then； don't be afraid； once you are over there I shall send you money。 Since this Bey wants to have sculpture done by me； he will have to pay for it； as you may imagine。 I shall return rich； rich。 Who knows？ Perhaps a sultana。〃
〃Yes； you will be a sultana； but II shall be dead and I shall never see you again。〃 And the good Crenmitz in despair huddled herself into a corner of the cab so
