Lost Illusions (Complete Edition). Honore de Balzac

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СКАЧАТЬ You have only two presentable white waistcoats; I have mended the others already. Come, I advise you to take two thousand francs.”

      David came in as she spoke, and apparently heard the last two words, for he looked at the brother and sister and said nothing.

      “Do not keep anything from me,” he said at last.

      “Well,” exclaimed Eve, “he is going away with her.”

      Mme. Chardon came in again, and, not seeing David, began at once:

      “Postel is willing to lend you the thousand francs, Lucien,” she said, “but only for six months; and even then he wants you to let him have a bill endorsed by your brother-in-law, for he says that you are giving him no security.”

      She turned and saw David, and there was a deep silence in the room. The Chardons thought how they had abused David’s goodness, and felt ashamed. Tears stood in the young printer’s eyes.

      “Then you will not be here at our wedding,” he began. “You are not going to live with us! And here have I been squandering all that I had! Oh! Lucien, as I came along, bringing Eve her little bits of wedding jewelry, I did not think that I should be sorry I spent the money on them.” He brushed his hand over his eyes as he drew the little cases from his pocket.

      He set down the tiny morocco-covered boxes on the table in front of his mother-in-law.

      “Oh! why do you think so much for me?” protested Eve, giving him a divinely sweet smile that belied her words.

      “Mamma, dear,” said David, “just tell M. Postel that I will put my name to the bill, for I can tell from your face, Lucien, that you have quite made up your mind to go.”

      Lucien’s head sank dejectedly; there was a little pause, then he said, “Do not think hardly of me, my dear, good angels.”

      He put his arms about Eve and David, and drew them close, and held them tightly to him as he added, “Wait and see what comes of it, and you shall know how much I love you. What is the good of our high thinking, David, if it does not enable us to disregard the petty ceremonial in which the law entangles our affections? Shall I not be with you in spirit, in spite of the distance between us? Shall we not be united in thought? Have I not a destiny to fulfil? Will publishers come here to seek my Archer of Charles IX. and the Marguerites? A little sooner or a little later I shall be obliged in any case to do as I am doing to-day, should I not? And shall I ever find a better opportunity than this? Does not my success entirely depend upon my entrance on life in Paris through the Marquise d’Espard’s salon?”

      “He is right,” said Eve; “you yourself were saying, were you not, that he ought to go to Paris at once?”

      David took Eve’s hand in his, and drew her into the narrow little room where she had slept for seven years.

      “Love, you were saying just now that he would want two thousand francs?” he said in her ear. “Postel is only lending one thousand.”

      Eve gave her betrothed a look, and he read all her anguish in her eyes.

      “Listen, my adored Eve, we are making a bad start in life. Yes, my expenses have taken all my capital; I have just two thousand francs left, and half of it will be wanted to carry on the business. If we give your brother the thousand francs, it will mean that we are giving away our bread, that we shall live in anxiety. If I were alone, I know what I should do; but we are two. Decide for us.”

      Eve, distracted, sprang to her lover’s arms, and kissed him tenderly, as she answered through her tears:

      “Do as you would do if you were alone; I will work to earn the money.”

      In spite of the most impassioned kiss ever given and taken by betrothed lovers, David left Eve overcome with trouble, and went out to Lucien.

      “Do not worry yourself,” he said; “you shall have your two thousand francs.”

      “Go in to see Postel,” said Mme. Chardon, “for you must both give your signatures to the bill.”

      When Lucien and David came back again unexpectedly, they found Eve and her mother on their knees in prayer. The women felt sure that Lucien’s return would bring the realization of many hopes; but at the moment they could only feel how much they were losing in the parting, and the happiness to come seemed too dearly bought by an absence that broke up their life together, and would fill the coming days with innumerable fears for Lucien.

      “If you could ever forget this sight,” David said in Lucien’s ear, “you would be the basest of men.”

      David, no doubt, thought that these brave words were needed; Mme. de Bargeton’s influence seemed to him less to be feared than his friend’s unlucky instability of character, Lucien was so easily led for good or evil. Eve soon packed Lucien’s clothes; the Fernando Cortez of literature carried but little baggage. He was wearing his best overcoat, his best waistcoat, and one of the two fine shirts. The whole of his linen, the celebrated coat, and his manuscript made up so small a package that to hide it from Mme. de Bargeton, David proposed to send it by coach to a paper merchant with whom he had dealings, and wrote and advised him to that effect, and asked him to keep the parcel until Lucien sent for it.

      In spite of Mme. de Bargeton’s precautions, Chatelet found out that she was leaving Angouleme; and with a view to discovering whether she was traveling alone or with Lucien, he sent his man to Ruffec with instructions to watch every carriage that changed horses at that stage.

      “If she is taking her poet with her,” thought he, “I have her now.”

      Lucien set out before daybreak the next morning. David went with him. David had hired a cabriolet, pretending that he was going to Marsac on business, a little piece of deception which seemed probable under the circumstances. The two friends went to Marsac, and spent part of the day with the old “bear.” As evening came on they set out again, and in the beginning of the dawn they waited in the road, on the further side of Mansle, for Mme. de Bargeton. When the seventy-year old traveling carriage, which he had many a time seen in the coach-house, appeared in sight, Lucien felt more deeply moved than he had ever been in his life before; he sprang into David’s arms.

      “God grant that this may be for your good!” said David, and he climbed into the shabby cabriolet and drove away with a feeling of dread clutching at his heart; he had terrible presentiments of the fate awaiting Lucien in Paris.

      A DISTINGUISHED PROVINCIAL AT PARIS

       Table of Contents

       Part I

       Part II

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