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

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СКАЧАТЬ merchants.' Well, now, Jeanike, no later than yesterday evening, the second day after my arrival, did you not hear cries of: 'Close the shops! Close the shops!' And did you not thereupon see the night-patrols, and hear the drums and the hurried steps of large numbers of men who came and went tumultuously? There were among them some whose faces were frightful to behold, with their long beards. I positively dreamed of them, Jeanike! I did!"

      "Poor Gildas!"

      "And if that were only all!"

      "What! Is there still more? Have you, perchance, anything to blame our master for?"

      "Him? He is the best man in all the world. I'm quite sure of that. Mother told me so."

      "Or Madam Lebrenn?"

      "The dear, good woman! She reminds me of my own mother with her sweet temper."

      "Or mademoiselle?"

      "Oh! As to her, Jeanike, we may say of her in the words of the Song of the Poor:[3]

      "Your mistress is handsome and brimful of kindness;

       As lovely her face, yet her deeds with it vie,

       And her looks and her kindness have won all our hearts."

      "Oh, Gildas! How I do love to hear those songs of our country. That particular one seems to have been composed expressly for Mademoiselle Velleda, and I—"

      "Tush, Jeanike!" exclaimed the shop-assistant, breaking in upon his companion. "You asked me what there is to astonish me. Tell me, do you think that mademoiselle's name is a Christian woman's name? Velleda! What can that mean?"

      "What do I know! I suppose 'tis a fancy of monsieur and madam's."

      "And their son, who went back yesterday to his business college."

      "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 СКАЧАТЬ