The Galley Slave's Ring; or, The Family of Lebrenn. Эжен Сю

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "Well?"

      "What another devil's own name is that which he also has? One ever seems to be about to swear when pronouncing it. Just pronounce that name, Jeanike. Come, pronounce it."

      "It is very simple. The name of our master's son is Sacrovir."

      "Ha! ha! I knew it would be so. You did look as if you were swearing – Sacr-r-r-rovir."

      "Not at all! I did not roll the r's like you."

      "They roll of themselves, my lassy. But, after all, do you call that a name?"

      "That also is a fancy of monsieur and madam's."

      "Very well, and what about the green door?"

      "The green door?"

      "Yes, in the rear of the room. Yesterday, at broad noon, I saw our master go in with a light in his hand."

      "Quite natural, seeing the shutters are always kept closed – "

      "And you find that natural, do you, Jeanike? And why should the shutters always be kept closed?"

      "How do I know! It may be another – "

      "Notion of monsieur and madam's, are you going to tell me?"

      "Sure!"

      "And what is kept in that apartment where it is night in broad day?"

      "How do I know, Gildas! Only madam and monsieur ever go in there; never their children."

      "And nothing of all that seems to you at all surprising, Jeanike!"

      "No, because I have become accustomed to it. You will presently feel about it as I do."

      The girl stopped short, and after casting a furtive look in the direction of the street, she said to her companion:

      "Did you see that?"

      "What?"

      "The dragoon."

      "A dragoon, Jeanike!"

      "Yes; and I beg you go out and see if he is coming back – towards the shop. I shall tell you more about it later. Go, quick! quick!"

      "The dragoon has not come back," answered the lad, naïvely. "But what can you have in common with the dragoon, Jeanike?"

      "Nothing at all, thank God; but they have their barracks near by."

      "A bad neighborhood for young girls, close to these men with helmets and sabers," remarked Gildas sententiously. "A bad neighborhood. That reminds me of the song, The Demand:

      "In my dove-cote a little dove

      Once had I,

      When low the sparrow hawk swooped down

      Upon her like a gust of wind;

      He frightened my wee dove away

      And now none

      Knows what has become of her.4

      "Do you understand, Jeanike? The doves are young girls; the sparrow-hawk – "

      "Is the dragoon. You are speaking more wisely than you know, Gildas."

      "What, Jeanike! Can you have realized that the neighborhood of sparrow-hawks – that is, dragoons – is unwholesome for you?"

      "I was not thinking of myself."

      "Of whom, then?"

      "Tush, Gildas! You are a loyal fellow. I must ask your advice. This is what has happened: Four days ago, mademoiselle, who usually stays in the rear of the shop, was at the desk in the absence of madam. I happened to look out on the street, when I saw a military man stop before our windows."

      "A dragoon? A sparrow-hawk of a dragoon? Was it, Jeanike?"

      "Yes; but he was not a soldier; he wore large gold epaulettes, and a cockade on his hat. He must have been at least a colonel. He stopped before the shop, and looked in."

      The conversation of the two Breton country folks was interrupted by the brusque entrance of a man of about forty years, clad in a cutaway coat and trousers of black velvet, the usual railway employees' garb. His energetic face was partially covered with a thick brown beard. He seemed uneasy, and stepped into the shop precipitately, saying to Jeanike:

      "Where is your master, my child? I must see him immediately. Pray, go and tell him that Dupont wants him. Remember my name well – Dupont."

      "Monsieur Lebrenn went out this morning at daybreak, monsieur," answered Jeanike. "He has not yet come back."

      "A thousand devils! Can he have gone there?" the new arrival muttered to himself.

      He was about to leave the shop as precipitately as he had stepped in when a new thought struck him, and turning back to Jeanike he said:

      "My child, tell Monsieur Lebrenn, the moment he comes back, that Dupont has arrived."

      "Yes, monsieur."

      "And that if he – Monsieur Lebrenn," added Dupont, hesitating like one hunting for a word; and then having found it, he proceeded saying: "Say to your master that, if he did not go this morning to inspect his supply of grain– you catch those words: his supply of grain– he should not go there before seeing Dupont. Can you remember that, my child?"

      "Yes, monsieur. But if you would like to leave a note for Monsieur Lebrenn – "

      "Not at all!" answered Dupont impatiently. "That's unnecessary – only tell him – "

      "Not to go and inspect his supply of grain before seeing Monsieur Dupont," Jeanike completed the sentence. "Is that it, monsieur?"

      "Exactly," the latter answered. "Good-bye, my child." So saying, he went away in hot haste.

      "Well, now, Monsieur Lebrenn, it seems, is also a groceryman," observed Gildas in amazement to his companion. "He seems to keep supplies of grain in store."

      "That's the first I heard of it."

      "And that man! He looked very much disconcerted. Did you notice him? Oh, Jeanike! There is no doubt about it, this is a puzzling sort of a house."

      "You have just landed from the country. Everything surprises you. But let me finish my story about the dragoon."

      "The story of that sparrow-hawk with gold epaulettes and a cockade in his hat, who stopped to look at you through the show-window, Jeanike?"

      "It was not me he looked at."

      "Whom, then?"

      "Mademoiselle Velleda."

      "Indeed?"

      "Mademoiselle was busy sewing. She did not notice that the military man was devouring her with his eyes. And I felt so ashamed for her sake that I did not dare notify her that she was being glowered at."

      "Oh, Jeanike, that reminds me of a song that – "

      "Let СКАЧАТЬ