THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ ground, and deeply affected by the scene at which he had been assisting, he felt a hand laid on his shoulder with friendly roughness. He looked up and beheld Sauvaire, the master-stevedore, before him.

      “Well! my young friend, what on earth are you doing there?” Sauvaire exclaimed, with a hearty laugh. “One would think you were going to be tied to that post.” And he pointed to the scaffold.

      Sauvaire was gaily dressed: he wore a coat and trousers of fine cloth, and his partly buttoned waistcoat gave a view of his white shirt. His heavy watch-chain, with its massive charms, was displayed complacently. As it was scarcely ten o’clock, the master-stevedore was still in his slippers, with his soft felt hat cocked on his head and his beautiful meerschaum pipe between his teeth. One felt that the whole pavement of the Cannebière belonged to him; he was quite at home there, occupying as much room as possible, and watching the passersby in a familiar and patronizing way. With his hands in his pockets stretching out his trousers, his legs wide apart, he examined Marius with a look of superiority that was full of condescension.

      “You seem worried and ill,” he added. “Do as I do: keep well, eat and drink heartily, lead a merry life. Ah! as for me, I don’t know what grief is. I’m strong, I’ve got a good digestion, and I can spend a hundred francs whenever I like. I know one must be well off to do as I do. Everybody isn’t rich.”

      He eyed Marius pitifully, and found him so puny and pale, that he was delighted at feeling himself plump and red beside him. At that moment he would willingly have lent the young man a thousand francs.

      Marius was not listening to his prating. He had shaken his hand in an absent-minded way, and had then plunged again into his gloomy thoughts. He was thinking with despair that he had been vainly struggling for three months without having made the slightest headway. The post erected before him was awaiting Philippe; and it seemed to him that his feet were rooted to the pavement, and that he was unable to run to his brother’s assistance. At that moment, he would have sold himself to obtain a few thousand francs, he would have committed a mean action. Receiving no reply, Sauvaire continued prating. He liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

      “Deuce take it!” he said, “a young man should amuse himself. But poor you! you don’t amuse yourself enough, you work too hard, my young friend. Ah! it requires a lot of money: pleasures cost dear. As for myself, I some weeks spend enormous sums. You can’t amuse yourself as much as that, it’d be impossible; but yet you might have a bit of a fling. You’ve got a trifle of money, haven’t you? Listen! shall I take you some evenings to places that’ll enliven you up?”

      The master-stevedore thought himself very generous in making Marius this proposal. He waited awhile for the young man to thank him. But as he still maintained his silence of despair, he took his arm in an authoritative way and led him along the pavement.

      “I’ll take you in hand,” he exclaimed, “I’ll show you life. I intend you to be almost as lively as myself in a week’s time. I eat in the best restaurants; I know the prettiest women in Marseille, and, as you see, I stroll about all day. That’s the way to live!”

      He stopped, and, folding his arms, planted himself abruptly before Marius.

      “Do you know at what time I went to bed?” he resumed. “At three o’clock this morning! And would you like to know where I passed the night? At the Corneille Club, where there was a fine old gamble. Just fancy, there were two delightful creatures there, women attired in velvet, with jewels and lace, things so costly that one is afraid to touch them with the tips of one’s fingers. Clairon, a little dark woman, won over five thousand francs.”

      Marius looked up sharply.

      “Ah!” he said in a strange voice, “can one win five thousand francs in a single night?”

      Sauvaire burst out laughing.

      “Good heavens! what a simpleton you are! I have seen larger sums than that won. Some people have luck. Last year I knew a young man who won sixteen thousand francs in a couple of nights. He came to the club with me, and hadn’t a copper on him. I lent him five francs, and two days after he was in possession of sixteen thousand. We spent them together. Heavens! didn’t I just amuse myself during the month they lasted!”

      A red flush came to Marius’ face. He felt a tremor pass up him and burn his chest. He had never before experienced so painful a sensation.

      “Doesn’t one have to be a member of a club to be able to play there?” he asked.

      The master-stevedore smiled and winked his eye in a knowing manner, shrugging his shoulders the while.

      “I thought,” resumed Marius, “that strangers were not allowed in a club, and that only the members, who had paid a subscription, could play there.”

      “Yes, yes, that’s correct,” replied Sauvaire laughing, “only members have the right to play. But strangers, who have not that right, are generally more numerous around the gaming-table, and play for higher stakes than the members. Do you understand?”

      It was now Marius who took hold of Sauvaire’s arm, and they went a few steps in silence. Then the young man asked his companion in a stifled voice:

      “Could you take me tonight to the Corneille Club?”

      “Bravo!” exclaimed the master-stevedore. “We’ll have a laugh. I see you’re beginning to understand life. Look you, wine, love and cards, that’s the ticket for me. When I saw you looking so pale, I said to myself: ‘There’s a youngster I must take in hand!’ Try and win some money, be quick and get a sweetheart, and you’ll soon grow fat, or the devil take me! Certainly, I’ll conduct you tonight to the Corneille Club and I’ll introduce you to Clairon.”

      Marius made a movement of impatience. He cared nothing for Clairon! A fixed idea was occupying his brain. Since it was possible to win sixteen thousand francs at play in a couple of nights, he wished to tempt fortune and obtain Philippe’s ransom from chance. And he said to himself that Providence would watch over him, that he would leave the club with his hands full of gold. Something had gone wrong in his healthy, upright mind. Beneath the repeated blows of disaster the good sense he possessed had become clouded. Everything was weighing him down. In bringing him the news of M. de Cazalis’ fresh proceedings, Abbé Chastanier had dealt him the first blow. Then Douglas in the pillory, that terrible sight, had completed his perturbation, driving him mad by spreading before his eyes the spectacle of the infamous punishment that awaited his brother. He was now quite losing his wits. Reduced to powerlessness, not knowing where to turn in his supreme anguish, he looked upon gambling as a providential means which would either help him out of his difficulty or plunge him more deeply into the abyss of his despair.

      Besides, he was acting in a state of fever, no longer knowing what he was doing, obeying simply the instincts of the beast. He looked at Sauvaire, wondering whether it was virtue or crime which had placed this man across his path, at the moment when the thought of the steps the deputy was taking and of Philippe’s punishment was torturing him. At that instant, he would have accepted anything, he would have fought ill-luck with no matter what weapons.

      “Well! that’s agreed,” resumed Sauvaire, as he took leave. “Where shall I meet you, this evening?”

      “I’ll be here, on the Cannebière, at ten o’clock,” replied Marius.

      He left the master-stevedore and went to his office. He had never before been in such a state of overexcitement. He passed a terrible day, shaking with fever, his brow heated, a vacant gaze in his eyes, and full of eager desire as he thought of the night that was СКАЧАТЬ