THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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СКАЧАТЬ Cazalis in a choking undertone.

      The deputy started back.

      “The wet-nurse is here,” he replied, hesitating. “You know what was agreed. You must give her your child.”

      He had told her a few days before the event that the honour of the family depended on Philippe’s child being sent away from the moment of its birth. She had shown herself as pliant as usual on hearing her uncle’s brief and cruel words. But she had hoped she would have been able to keep the newborn babe with her at least for twenty-four hours, for it was on that hope she had based her plan for placing him out of harm’s way.

      When she heard M. de Cazalis insist on the child being instantly handed over to the nurse, she imagined all was lost. If they took him away at once, her plan was upset, she had no time to put him beyond the danger that she foresaw, with her motherly anxiety, would be in store for him, and she became still paler than before, if possible, as she pressed him to her bosom.

      “Oh! for mercy’s sake!” she exclaimed, “leave him me until tomorrow morning.”

      She felt herself weak, and was afraid of showing cowardice and obeying.

      The deputy continued with a voice that he endeavoured to keep calm, in order not to be overheard by the midwife:

      “You are asking me what is impossible. Your son must disappear for some time, if you do not wish to be covered with shame.”

      “I will give him you tomorrow,” pleaded Blanche, shuddering. “Be kind, permit me to gaze on him and love him until then. That cannot do you any harm, no one will see him tonight in this room.”

      “It’s much better to finish at once. Kiss him and give him to the nurse.”

      “No! I shall keep him. You are killing me, sir!”

      She uttered these last words in an heartrending tone of voice. M. de Cazalis said no more, fearing to fly into a passion: this unforeseen resistance surprised and alarmed him. He was advancing to grasp the poor little creature which the mother held folded in her arms, when the midwife, who had been listening, took him aside and told him she would not be answerable for his niece if he persevered in this odious scene. He then saw that it was necessary to give way.

      “Very well! Keep your son,” he exclaimed sharply. “The wet-nurse will wait until tomorrow.”

      Blanche placed the babe beside her, then fell back on the pillow, surprised and happy at her victory. A pink tint overspread her cheeks, she shut her eyes feigning sleep, and felt full of hope and joy.

      Shortly afterwards Madame Lambert and the midwife seeing her quiet, withdrew to take a little rest, and M. de Cazalis remained for an instant alone with his niece, who continued to keep her eyes shut. He looked at the newborn babe and said to himself that this poor creature, so weak and puny, was his most cruel enemy. As he was at last about to leave the apartment he fancied he heard a slight noise in the dressing-room. He opened the door and looked, but seeing nothing he thought he must have been mistaken. Then he made up his mind to go downstairs, but with the intention of sitting up all night, for in spite of himself, he felt secretly uneasy. If he had given way to Blanche, it was because he could not do otherwise. The infant ought already to have been far away. However, he would get rid of him tomorrow, that was understood, and it was impossible for the Cayols to come and take him between now and then. He had put bolts on the front door himself.

      As soon as Blanche was alone, she abruptly raised herself in bed and listened attentively, for she also had heard a slight noise coming from the dressing-room. She rose with an effort, took the key hidden under the bolster and staggered along, clutching hold of the articles of furniture, towards the door at the back of the house. This was an imprudence that might kill her. But she seemed borne up by superhuman strength and advanced along the tile-flooring without reflecting that she was risking her life. She simply said to herself that she was saving her son.

      There was a scratching at the old front door and that was the noise which had attracted the attention of M. de Cazalis. Blanche, who was giddy, managed to get the key into the lock, after having nearly fainted more than ten times, and turn it. The door opened and Fine entered.

      The note Blanche had given her in secret a few days before, contained these few sentences: “I have need of your affection and devotedness. I know what your heart is like, and I come to you as to a friend. When I require your assistance I will fasten a white rag to my window shutter. I shall expect you at about one o’clock on the following morning. Keep at the old front door at the back of the house and scratch against it softly to apprise me of your presence. You will be my good angel.”

      When Fine had perused this note she understood that it referred to Philippe’s child. She consulted Marius who advised her to comply precisely with the instructions Blanche gave. The next morning, the flower-girl placed a lad on the beach at about a hundred yards from the cottage, with orders to come and tell her as soon as ever he perceived the signal agreed upon. The lad remained at his post for nearly a week without seeing anything. At last, one morning, he caught sight of the white rag and ran in all haste to Marseille.

      In the evening Fine and Marius came in a cabriolet to Saint-Henri. They left the vehicle in the village and both walked towards the rocks in the midst of which stood the cottage. He remained in hiding at a few steps from the old front door, while she scratched at it, at the appointed hour.

      Blanche barely had time to let her in, before falling into her arms in a fainting fit. The flower-girl promptly carried her to her bed, covered up her shivering limbs, and then hastened to bolt the door on the landing so that no one might surprise them. After that, she threw off her long cloak and gave all her attention to the invalid whose eyes remained closed.

      Blanche, little by little, recovered consciousness. As soon as she opened her eyes and recognised Fine beside her, she raised herself up, and with her heart full of joy and hope, fell on the girl’s neck and wept tears of happiness.

      For a few moments neither was able to speak, but Fine, catching sight of the baby, took it up and kissed it. Then a stifled cry escaped Blanche’s lips.

      “You’ll love him as if you were his mother, won’t you?” she asked.

      The flower-girl gazed on the infant with that tender look of girls who are in love and dream of maternity. While contemplating Philippe’s son, she thought with a blush of Marius, and said to herself:

      “I shall have a child like that.” Then she placed the babe on the bed and sat down beside Blanche.

      “Listen,” the latter said, rapidly, “we have very little time before us. They may come upstairs and surprise us at any moment. You are quite devoted to me, are you not?”

      Fine bent forward and kissed her on the forehead.

      “I love you as a sister,” she answered.

      “I know it, and it is for that reason that I confide in you. I am going to give you the most sacred legacy that any woman can leave behind her.”

      “But you are not dead!”

      “Yes, I am dead! In a few days, when I am well again, I shall belong to the Almighty. Do not interrupt me. I quit this world, and, before leaving it, I desire to give my child a mother, for he will soon have none, and I have thought of you.”

      And Blanche gave Fine a warm pressure of the hand.

      “You СКАЧАТЬ