①见《圣经·路加福音》第七章，第四十四至四十八节。 .24

“因为你正在做一些败坏你家庭名声的事，而且你也认为是应该保持这个名声的。”

“我不明白您这些话的意思。”

“我马上跟你解释。你有一个情妇，这很好，你像一个时髦人那样养着一个妓女，这也无可非议；但是为了她你忘记了最最神圣的职责，你的丑闻一直传到了我们外省的家乡，玷辱了我家的门楣，这是不行的，以后不准这样。”

“请听我说，爸爸，那些把我的事情告诉您的人不了解情况。我是戈蒂埃小姐的情人，我和她同居，这些事极其普通。我并没有把从您那儿得到的姓氏给戈蒂埃小姐，我在她身上花的钱是我的收入允许的。我没有欠债，总之我的行动没有任何一点值得一个做父亲的向他儿子说您刚才对我说的这番话。”

“看到儿子不走正道，做父亲的总是有权把他拉回来的。

你还没有做什么坏事，但你以后会做的。”

“爸爸！”

“先生，对于人生我总比您有经验些。只有真正贞洁的女人才谈得上真正纯洁的爱情。任何一个玛侬都会有一个德·格里欧的。现在时代和风尚都不同了，人要是年纪大了仍不长进，那他也只能算是虚度岁月了。您必须离开您的情妇。”

“很遗憾我不能听从您，爸爸，这是不可能的。”

“我要强迫您同意。”

“不幸的是，爸爸，放逐妓女的圣玛格丽特岛已经没有了，而且即使它还存在，您又能把她发送到那里去的话，我也会随着戈蒂埃小姐一起去的。您说怎么办？也许是我错了，但是我只有在做这个女人的情人时才感到有幸福。”

“啊，阿尔芒，您要睁大眼睛看看清楚，您得承认您父亲一直在爱着您，他一心盼望您得到幸福。您像做丈夫似的跟一个和大家都睡过的姑娘同居，难道不觉得羞耻吗？”

“只要她以后不再跟别人睡，爸爸，那又有什么关系？只要这个姑娘爱我，只要她由于我们相互的爱情而得到新生，总之，只要她已经改邪归正，那又有什么关系！”

“啊！先生，那么您认为一个有身分的男人，他的任务就是使妓女改邪归正吗？难道您相信天主赋予人生的竟是这么一个怪诞的使命吗？一个人心里就不该有其他方面的热情吗？到您四十岁的时候，这种神乎其神的治疗将会得到什么样的结果呢？您将对您今天讲的话又会有些什么想法？如果这种爱情在您已经度过的岁月中还没有留下太深的痕迹，如果到时候您还笑得出来的话，您自己也会对这种爱情感到可笑的。如果您父亲过去也跟您一样想法，听任他的一生被这类爱情冲动所摆布，而不是以荣誉和忠诚的思想去成家立业的话，您现在又是怎么样的一个人呢？您想一想吧，阿尔芒，别再讲这些蠢话了。好吧，离开这个女人吧，您的父亲恳求您。”

我什么也不回答。

“阿尔芒，”我父亲继续说，“看在您圣洁的母亲份上，相信我，放弃这种生活，您马上会把它丢到脑后的，比您现在想象的还要快些。您对待这种生活的理论是行不通的。您已经二十四岁，想想您的前途吧。您不可能永远爱这个女人，她也不会永远爱您的。你们两个都把你们的爱情夸大了。您断送了一生的事业。再走一步您就会陷入泥坑不能自拔，一辈子都会为青年时期的失足而后悔。走吧，到您妹妹那里去，过上一两个月。休息和家庭的温暖很快就会把您这种狂热医好，因为这只不过是一种狂热而已。

“在这段时间里，您的情妇会想通的，她会另外找一个情人，而当您看到您差一点为了这样一个女人跟您父亲闹翻，失去他的慈爱，您就会对我说，我今天来找您是很有道理的，您就会感谢我的。

“好吧，阿尔芒，你会离开她的，是吗？”

我觉得我父亲的话对所有其他的女人来说是对的，但是我深信他的话对玛格丽特来说却是错的。然而他跟我说最后几句话的语气是那么温柔，那么恳切，我都不敢回答他。

“怎么样？”他用一种激动的声音问我。

“怎么样，爸爸，我什么也不能答应您。”我终于说道，“您要求我做的事超出了我的能力范围，请相信我，”我看见他作了一个不耐烦的动作，我继续说道，“您把这种关系的后果看得过于严重了。玛格丽特并不是您想象中的那种姑娘。这种爱情非但不会把我引向邪路，相反能在我身上发展成最最崇高的感情。真正的爱情始终是使人上进的，不管激起这种爱情的女人是什么人。如果您认识玛格丽特，您就会明白我没有任何危险。她像最高贵的女人一样高贵。别的女人身上有多少贪婪，她身上就有多少无私。”

“这倒并不妨碍她接受您全部财产，因为您把从母亲那儿得到的六万法郎全都给了她。这六万法郎是您仅有的财产，您要好好记住我对您讲的话。”

我父亲很可能有意把这句威胁的话留在最后讲，当作对我的最后一击。

我在威胁面前比在婉言恳求面前更加坚强。

“谁对您说我要把这笔钱送给玛格丽特的？”我接着说。

“我的公证人。一个上流社会有教养的人能不通知我就办这样一件事吗？好吧，我就是为了不让您因一个姑娘而做败家子才到巴黎来的。您母亲在临死的时候给您留下的这笔钱是让您规规矩矩地过日子，而不是让您在情妇面前摆阔气的。”

“我向您发誓，爸爸，玛格丽特根本不知道这回事。”

“那您为什么要这样做呢？”

“因为玛格丽特，这个受到您污蔑的女人，这个您要我抛弃的女人，为了和我同居牺牲了她所有的一切。”

“而您接受了这种牺牲？那么您算是什么人呢？先生，您竟同意一位玛格丽特小姐为您牺牲什么东西吗？好了，够了。您必须抛弃这个女人。刚才我是请求您，现在我是命令您。我不愿意在我家里发生这样的丑事。把您的箱子收拾好，准备跟我一起走。”

“请原谅我，爸爸，”我说，“我不走。”

“为什么？”

“因为我已经到了可以不再服从一个命令的年龄了。”

听到这个回答，我父亲的脸色都变白了。

“很好，先生，”他又说，“我知道我该怎么办。”

他拉铃。

约瑟夫走了进来。

“把我的箱子送到巴黎旅馆去，”他对我的仆人说，一面走进他的卧室里去穿衣服。

他出来时，我向他迎了上去。

“爸爸，”我对他说，“别做什么会使玛格丽特感到痛苦的事，您能答应我吗？”

我父亲站定了，轻蔑地看着我，只是回答我说：

“我想您是疯了。”

讲完他就走了出去，把身后的门使劲地关上了。

我也跟着下了楼，搭上一辆双轮马车回布吉瓦尔去了。

玛格丽特在窗口等着我。

Chapter 21

'AT last!' she cried, throwing her arms around my neck. 'You're back! You look so pale!'

Then I told her about the scene with my father.

'Oh my God! I was expecting something like this, ' she said. 'When Joseph came and told us your father had arrived, my heart stopped as though he'd brought bad news. Poor dear! And I'm to blame for all your troubles. Perhaps it would be better for you to leave me than quarrel with your father. Still, I never did him any harm. We live very quietly and we'll live more quietly still. Of course, he realizes that you must have a mistress, and he should be pleased it's me, because I love you and won't ask you for anything more than your circumstances warrant. Did you tell him what we've worked out for the future?'

'Yes, and that's what upset him most, because he took the fact that our minds were made up as a sure sign of our love for each other.'

'What do we do now?'

'Stay together, sweet Marguerite, and let the storm blow over.'

'And will it blow over?'

'Storms always do.'

'But your father won't leave it at that, will he?'

'What can he do?'

'How should I know? Everything a father can do to force his son to obey him. He'll remind you of my past life, and may even credit me with some new treachery invented for the purpose of persuading you to give me up.'

'You know how I love you.'

'Yes, but there's something else I know: sooner or later you'll have to obey your father, and in the end you may let yourself be convinced.'

'No, Marguerite, I'll do the convincing. He's furious because of the stories some of his friends have been putting about. But he's good and he's fair-minded, and he'll get over his first impressions. Anyway, even if he doesn't, it won't make any difference to me!'

'You mustn't say that, Armand. I'd rather anything than give people the idea that I've come between you and your family. Leave it for today, and return to Paris tomorrow. Your father will have thought things over and so will you, and perhaps you'll understand each other better. Don't offend his principles. Try to appear as though you're making some concessions to what he wants. Make it look as if you're not all that attached to me, and he'll leave matters as they are, Keep hoping, my dear, and be sure of one thing: whatever happens, your Marguerite will still be yours.'

'You swear it?'

'Do I need to?'

How sweet it is to let yourself be won round by a voice your love! Marguerite and I spent all day going over our plans as though we somehow knew we had to hurry them through. We were expecting something to happen at any minute but, happily, the day passed without further event.

The following morning, I set off at ten o'clock and reached the hotel around noon.

My father had already gone out.

I went to my apartment hoping that he might be there. No one had called. I went round to my solicitor's. There was no one there either!

I returned to the hotel and waited until six. Monsieur Duval did not return.

I set off back to Bougival.

I found Marguerite not waiting for me, as on the previous evening, but sitting by the fire which the season already required.

She was deep enough in her thoughts for me to come right up to her chair without her hearing me or turning round. When my lips touched her forehead, she started as though the kiss had woken her suddenly.

'You gave me a fright, ' she said. 'What did your father say?'

'I didn't see him. I can't make it out. I couldn't find him at his hotel nor in any of the places where he was likely to be.'

'Well, you'll have to try again tomorrow.'

'I've a good mind to wait for him to ask to see me. I think I've done everything that could be expected of me.'

'No, my dear, it's not enough. You must go and see your father again, and do it tomorrow.'

'Why tomorrow rather than any other day?'

'Because, ' said Marguerite, who, I thought, flushed slightly at my question, 'because then your determination will seem all the greater and consequently we shall be forgiven more quickly.'

For the remainder of that day, Marguerite seemed preoccupied, listless, downcast. I had to say everything twice to get an answer. She attributed her inattentiveness to the fears for the future which the events of the past two days had prompted.

I spent the night trying to reassure her, and she sent me off the next morning displaying a distinct uneasiness which I could not fathom.

As on the previous day, my father was out. But, before going, he had left me this letter:

'If you return to see me today, wait until four. If I'm not back by four, come back and dine with me tomorrow. I must speak with you.'

I waited until the appointed time. My father did not put in an appearance. So I left.

The evening before, I had found Marguerite downcast; now I found her feverish and agitated. When she saw me come in, she threw her arms around my neck, but she remained weeping in my arms for some time.

I questioned her about her sudden dejection which, as it worsened, alarmed me. She gave me no specific reason for it, and merely fell back on the excuses a woman falls back on when she does not want to give truthful answers.

When she was a little more herself again, I told her the outcome of my journey to town. I showed her my father's letter, and observed that some good might very well come of it.

When she saw the letter and heard my view of it, her tears began coming so fast that I called Nanine and, fearing some sort of nervous attack, we put her to bed. The poor girl wept without uttering a word, but she kept my hands clasped in hers and kissed them continually.

I asked Nanine if, during my absence, her mistress had received a letter or a visit which could account for the state she was in, but Nanine replied that no one had come and nothing had been delivered.

And yet something had been going on since the previous evening which was all the more worrying because Marguerite was hiding it from me.

She seemed to be a little calmer during the evening and, motioning me to sit at the foot of her bed, she gave me lengthy, renewed assurances that she loved me. Then she smiled, though it was an effort for her to do so, for despite herself her eyes were masked with tears.

I used every means to make her reveal the real cause of her sorrows, but she stubbornly continued to give me the same vague excuses which I have already mentioned.

In the end, she fell asleep in my arms, but her sleep was the kind which wearies the body instead of giving it rest. From time to time, she would cry out, wake with a start and, after reassuring herself that I was really by her side, would make me swear I would love her always.

I could make nothing of these fits of distress which continues until morning. Then Marguerite lapsed into a sort of torpor. She had not slept now for two nights.

Her rest was short-lived.

About eleven o'clock, Marguerite woke and, seeing that I was up and about, looked around her and exclaimed:

'Are you going already?'

'No, ' I said, taking her hands in mine, 'but I wanted to let you sleep. It's still early.'

'What time are you going to Paris?'

'Four o'clock.'

'So soon? You'll stay with me till then, won't you?'

'Of course. Don't I always?'

'I'm so glad!'

Then she went on listlessly: 'Are we going to have lunch?'

'If you want.'

'And then you'll hold me right up to the moment you go?'

'Yes, and I'll come back as soon as I can.'

'Come back?' she said, staring wild- eyed at me.

'Of course.'

'That's right, you'll come back tonight and I'll be waiting for you, as usual, and you'll love me, and we'll be happy just as we've been since we met.'

These words were said so falteringly, and seemed to hide some painful notion that was so persistent, that I feared for her reason.

'Listen, ' I told her, 'you're ill, I can't leave you like this. I'll write to my father and say he's not to expect me.'

'No! no!' she exclaimed vehemently, 'you mustn't do that. Your father would only accuse me of preventing you from going to him when he wants to see you. No! no! you must go, you must! Besides, I'm not ill, I couldn't be better. I had a bad dream, that's all, I wasn't properly awake.'

From then on, Marguerite tried to appear more cheerful. There were no more tears.

When it was time for me to leave, I kissed her and asked her if she wanted to come with me as far as the station: I hoped that the ride would take her mind off things, and that the air might do her good.

But most of all, I wanted to remain with her as long as possible.

She agreed, put her cloak on and came with me, bringing Nanine so that she would not have to return alone.

A score of times I was on the point of not going. But the hope of returning soon and fear of further antagonizing my father kept my purpose firm, and the train bore me away.

'Until tonight, ' I said to Marguerite as I said goodbye.

She did not answer.

Once before she had not answered when I had said those selfsame words, and Count de G, as you will recall, had spent the night with her. But that time was so far off that it seemed to have been erased from my memory. If I had anything to fear, it was assuredly not that Marguerite was deceiving me.

When I reached Paris, I hurried round to Prudence's to ask her to go down and see Marguerite. I hoped that her zest and good spirits would cheer her up.

I entered without waiting to be announced, and found Prudence getting dressed.

'Ah!' she said anxiously, 'is Marguerite with you?'

'No.'

'How is she?'

'She's not well.'

'So she's not coming?'

'Was she supposed to?'

Madame Duvernoy reddened and, somewhat embarrassed, answered:

'What I meant was, now you've come to Paris, isn't she going to come and join you?'

'No.'

I stared at Prudence. She lowered her eyes, and from the way she looked, I had the feeling that she was afraid of seeing me stay much longer.

'As a matter of fact, my dear Prudence, I came to ask you, if you've nothing else to do, to go down and see Marguerite this evening. You could keep her company and stay the night. I've never seen her the way she was today, and I'm terrified she's going to be ill.'

'I'm dining in town, ' Prudence replied, 'and I can't see Marguerite this evening. But I will tomorrow.'

I said goodbye to Madame Duvernoy, who seemed to me as though she was almost as preoccupied as Marguerite, and went to call on my father who, from the start, gave me studied, searching looks.

He held out his hand.

'You called twice to see me. That pleases me, Armand, ' he said. 'It's given me hope that you've reflected on your position, as I have on mine.'

'May I ask, father, what the outcome of your reflections has been?'

'The outcome, my boy, is that I realize I attached too much importance to the reports I was given, and I have made up my mind not to be quite so hard on you.'

'Do you mean it, father!' I exclaimed, overjoyed.

'What I mean, my dear boy, is that a young man needs a mistress and, after further enquiries, I would prefer to know that you were the lover of Mademoiselle Gautier than of some other woman.'