Jean-Christophe in Paris: The Market-Place, Antoinette, the House. Romain Rolland

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СКАЧАТЬ statues of gentlemen in frock-coats: all sorts of relics of a town of the Middle Ages endowed with the privilege of universal suffrage, but quite incapable of breaking free from its old vagabond existence. The fog of the preceding day had turned to a light, soaking rain. In many of the shops the gas was lit, although it was past ten o'clock.

      Christophe lost his way in the labyrinth of streets round the Place des Victoires, but eventually found the shop he was looking for in the Rue de la Banque. As he entered he thought he saw Diener at the back of the long, dark shop, arranging packages of goods, together with some of the assistants. But he was a little short-sighted, and could not trust his eyes, although it was very rarely that they deceived him. There was a general movement among the people at the back of the shop when Christophe gave his name to the clerk who approached him: and after a confabulation a young man stepped forward from the group, and said in German:

      "Herr Diener is out."

      "Out? For long?"

      "I think so. He has just gone."

      Christophe thought for a moment; then he said:

      "Very well. I will wait."

      The clerk was taken aback, and hastened to add:

      "But he won't be back before two or three."

      "Oh! That's nothing," replied Christophe calmly. "I haven't anything to do in Paris. I can wait all day if need be."

      The young man looked at him in amazement, and thought he was joking. But Christophe had forgotten him already. He sat down quietly in a corner, with his back turned towards the street: and it looked as though he intended to stay there.

      The clerk went back to the end of the shop and whispered to his colleagues: they were most comically distressed, and cast about for some means of getting rid of the insistent Christophe.

      After a few uneasy moments, the door of the office was opened and Herr Diener appeared. He had a large red face, marked with a purple scar down his cheek and chin, a fair mustache, smooth hair, parted on one side, a gold-rimmed eyeglass, gold studs in his shirt-front, and rings on his fat fingers. He had his hat and an umbrella in his hands. He came up to Christophe in a nonchalant manner. Christophe, who was dreaming as he sat, started with surprise. He seized Diener's hands, and shouted with a noisy heartiness that made the assistants titter and Diener blush. That majestic personage had his reasons for not wishing to resume his former relationship with Christophe: and he had made up his mind from the first to keep him at a distance by a haughty manner. But he had no sooner come face to face with Christophe than he felt like a little boy again in his presence: he was furious and ashamed. He muttered hurriedly:

      "In my office. … We shall be able to talk better there."

      Christophe recognized Diener's habitual prudence.

      But when they were in the office and the door was shut, Diener showed no eagerness to offer him a chair. He remained standing, making clumsy explanations:

      "Very glad. … I was just going out. … They thought I had gone. … But I must go … I have only a minute … a pressing appointment. … "

      Christophe understood that the clerk had lied to him, and that the lie had been arranged by Diener to get rid of him. His blood boiled: but he controlled himself, and said dryly:

      "There is no hurry."

      Diener drew himself up. He was shocked by such off-handedness.

      "What!" he said. "No hurry! In business … " Christophe looked him in the face.

      "No."

      Diener looked away. He hated Christophe for having so put him to shame. He murmured irritably. Christophe cut him short:

      "Come," he said. "You know … "

      (He used the "Du," which maddened Diener, who from the first had been vainly trying to set up between Christophe and himself the barrier of the "Sie")

      "You know why I am here?"

      "Yes," said Diener. "I know."

      (He had heard of Christophe's escapade, and the warrant out against him, from his friends.)

      "Then," Christophe went on, "you know that I am not here for fun. I have had to fly. I have nothing. I must live."

      Diener was waiting for that, for the request. He took it with a mixture of satisfaction—(for it made it possible for him to feel his superiority over Christophe)—and embarrassment—(for he dared not make Christophe feel his superiority as much as he would have liked).

      "Ah!" he said pompously. "It is very tiresome, very tiresome. Life here is hard. Everything is so dear. We have enormous expenses. And all these assistants … "

      Christophe cut him short contemptuously:

      "I am not asking you for money."

      Diener was abashed. Christophe went on:

      "Is your business doing well? Have you many customers?"

      "Yes. Yes. Not bad, thank God! … " said Diener cautiously. (He was on his guard.)

      Christophe darted a look of fury at him, and went on:

      "You know many people in the German colony?"

      "Yes."

      "Very well: speak for me. They must be musical. They have children. I will give them lessons."

      Diener was embarrassed at that.

      "What is it?" asked Christophe. "Do you think I'm not competent to do the work?"

      He was asking a service as though it were he who was rendering it. Diener, who would not have done a thing for Christophe except for the sake of putting him under an obligation, was resolved not to stir a finger for him.

      "It isn't that. You're a thousand times too good for it. Only … "

      "What, then?"

      "Well, you see, it's very difficult—very difficult—on account of your position."

      "My position?"

      "Yes. … You see, that affair, the warrant. … If that were to be known. …

       It is difficult for me. It might do me harm."

      He stopped as he saw Christophe's face go hot with anger: and he added quickly:

      "Not on my own account. … I'm not afraid. … Ah! If I were alone! … But my uncle … you know, the business is his. I can do nothing without him. … "

      He grew more and more alarmed at Christophe's expression, and at the thought of the gathering explosion he said hurriedly—(he was not a bad fellow at bottom: avarice and vanity were struggling in him: he would have liked to help Christophe, at a price):

      "Can I lend you fifty francs?"

      Christophe СКАЧАТЬ