Pelham Complete - Бульвер-Литтон Эдвард Джордж 10 стр.

Madame DAnville was not slow in perceiving the coldness of my behaviour. Though a Frenchwoman, she was rather grieved than resentful.

You are growing tired of me, my friend, she said: and when I consider your youth and temptations, I cannot be surprised at ityet, I own, that this thought gives me much greater pain than I could have supposed.

Bah! ma belle amie, cried I, you deceive yourselfI adore youI shall always adore you; but its getting very late.

Madame DAnville sighed, and we parted. She is not half so pretty or agreeable as she was, thought I, as I mounted my horse, and remembered my appointment at the ambassadors.

I took unusual pains with my appearance that evening, and drove to the ambassadors hotel in the Rue Faubourg St. Honore, full half an hour earlier than I had ever done before. I had been some time in the rooms without discovering my heroine of the morning. The Duchess of Hn passed by.

What a wonderfully beautiful woman, said Mr. Howard de Howard (the spectral secretary of the embassy) to Mr. Aberton.

Ay, answered Aberton, but to my taste, the Duchesse de Perpignan is quite equal to herdo you know her?

Noyes! said Mr. Howard de Howard; that is, not exactlynot well; an Englishman never owns that he does not know a duchess.

Hem! said Mr. Aberton, thrusting his large hand through his lank light hair. Hemcould one do anything, do you think, in that quarter?

I should think one might, with a tolerable person! answered the spectral secretary, looking down at a pair of most shadowy supporters.

Pray, said Aberton, what do you think of Miss? they say she is an heiress.

Think of her! said the secretary, who was as poor as he was thin, why, I have thought of her!

They say, that fool Pelham makes up to her. (Little did Mr. Aberton imagine, when he made this remark, that I was close behind him.)

I should not imagine that was true, said the secretary; he is so occupied with Madame DAnville.

Pooh! said Aberton, dictatorially, she never had any thing to say to him.

Why are you so sure? said Mr. Howard de Howard.

Why? because he never showed any notes from her, or ever even said he had a liaison with her himself!

Ah! that is quite enough! said the secretary. But, is not that the Duchesse de Perpignan?

Mr. Aberton turned, and so did Iour eyes methis fellwell they might, after his courteous epithet to my name; however, I had far too good an opinion of myself to care one straw about his; besides, at that moment, I was wholly lost in my surprise and pleasure, in finding that this Duchesse de Perpignan was no other than my acquaintance of the morning. She caught my gaze and smiled as she bowed. Now, thought I, as I approached her, let us see if we cannot eclipse Mr. Aberton.

All love-making is just the same, and, therefore, I shall spare the reader my conversation that evening. When he recollects that it was Henry Pelham who was the gallant, I am persuaded that he will be pretty certain as to the success.

VOLUME II

CHAPTER XIX

I dined the next day at the Freres Provencaux; an excellent restaurateurs, by-the-by, where one gets irreproachable gibier, and meets no English. After dinner, I strolled into the various gambling houses, with which the Palais Royal abounds.

In one of these, the crowd and heat were so great, that I should immediately have retired if I had not been struck with the extreme and intense expression of interest in the countenance of one of the spectators at the rouge et noir table. He was a man about forty years of age; his complexion was dark and sallow; the features prominent, and what are generally called handsome; but there was a certain sinister expression in his eyes and mouth, which rendered the effect of his physiognomy rather disagreeable than prepossessing. At a small distance from him, and playing, with an air which, in its carelessness and nonchalance, formed a remarkable contrast to the painful anxiety of the man I have just described, sate Mr. Thornton.

At first sight, these two appeared to be the only Englishmen present besides myself; I was more struck by seeing the former in that scene, than I was at meeting Thornton there; for there was something distingue in the mien of the stranger, which suited far worse with the appearance of the place, than the bourgeois air and dress of my ci-devant second.

What! another Englishman? thought I, as I turned round and perceived a thick, rough great coat, which could possibly belong to no continental shoulders. The wearer was standing directly opposite the seat of the swarthy stranger; his hat was slouched over his face; I moved in order to get a clearer view of his countenance. It was the same person I had seen with Thornton that morning. Never to this moment have I forgotten the stern and ferocious expression with which he was gazing upon the keen and agitated features of the gambler opposite. In the eye and lip there was neither pleasure, hatred, nor scorn, in their simple and unalloyed elements; but each seemed blent and mingled into one deadly concentration of evil passions.

This man neither played, nor spoke, nor moved. He appeared utterly insensible of every feeling in common with those around. There he stood, wrapt in his own dark and inscrutable thoughts, never, for one instant, taking his looks from the varying countenance which did not observe their gaze, nor altering the withering character of their almost demoniacal expression. I could not tear myself from the spot. I felt chained by some mysterious and undefinable interest; my attention was first diverted into a new channel, by a loud exclamation from the dark visaged gambler at the table; it was the first he had uttered, notwithstanding his anxiety; and, from the deep, thrilling tone in which it was expressed, it conveyed a keen sympathy with the overcharged feelings which it burst from.

With a trembling hand, he took from an old purse the few Napoleons that were still left there. He set them all at one hazard, on the rouge. He hung over the table with a dropping lip; his hands were tightly clasped in each other; his nerves seemed strained into the last agony of excitation. I ventured to raise my eyes upon the gaze, which I felt must still be upon the gamblerthere it was fixed, and stern as before; but it now conveyed a deeper expression of joy than of the other passions which were there met. Yet a joy so malignant and fiendish, that no look of mere anger or hatred could have so chilled my heart. I dropped my eyes. I redoubled my attention to the cardsthe last two were to be turned up. A moment more!the fortune was to the noir. The stranger had lost! He did not utter a single word. He looked with a vacant eye on the long mace, with which the marker had swept away his last hopes, with his last coin, and then, rising, left the room, and disappeared.

The other Englishman was not long in following him. He uttered a short, low, laugh, unobserved, perhaps, by any one but myself; and, pushing through the atmosphere of sacres and mille tonnerres, which filled that pandaemonium, strode quickly to the door. I felt as if a load had been taken from my bosom, when he was gone.

CHAPTER XX

I was loitering over my breakfast the next morning, and thinking of the last nights scene, when Lord Vincent was announced.

How fares the gallant Pelham? said he, as he entered the room.

Why, to say the truth, I replied, I am rather under the influence of blue devils this morning, and your visit is like a sun-beam in November.

A bright thought, said Vincent, and I shall make you a very pretty little poet soon; publish you in a neat octavo, and dedicate you to Lady De. Pray, by the by, have you ever read her plays? You know they were only privately printed?

No, said I, (for in good truth, had his lordship interrogated me touching any other literary production, I should have esteemed it a part of my present character to return the same answer.)

No! repeated Vincent; permit me to tell you, that you must never seem ignorant of any work not published. To be recherche, one must always know what other people dontand then one has full liberty to sneer at the value of what other people do know. Renounce the threshold of knowledge. There every new proselyte can meet you. Boast of your acquaintance with the sanctum, and not one in ten thousand can dispute it with you. Have you read Monsieur de Cs pamphlet?

Really, said I, I have been so busy.

Ah, mon ami! cried Vincent, the greatest sign of an idle man is to complain of being busy. But you have had a loss: the pamphlet is good. C, by the way, has an extraordinary, though not an expanded mind; it is like a citizens garden near London: a pretty parterre here, and a Chinese pagoda there; an oak tree in one corner, and a mushroom bed in the other. You may traverse the whole in a stride; it is the four quarters of the globe in a mole-hill. Yet every thing is good in its kind; and is neither without elegance nor design in its arrangement.

What do you think, said I, of the Baron de, the minister of?

Of him! replied Vincent

His soul Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole.

It is dark and bewilderedfull of dim visions of the ancient regime;it is a bat hovering about the chambers of an old ruin. Poor, antique little soul! but I will say nothing more about it,

For who would be satirical Upon a thing so very small as the soul of the Baron de ?

Finding Lord Vincent so disposed to the biting mood, I immediately directed his rabies towards Mr. Aberton, for whom I had a most inexpressible contempt.

Aberton, said Vincent, in answer to my question, if he knew that aimable attacheYes! a sort of man who, speaking of the English embassy, says wewho sticks his best cards on his chimney-piece, and writes himself billets-doux from duchesses. A duodecimo of precious conceits, bound in calf-skinI know the man well; does he not dress decently, Pelham?

His clothes are well made, said I; but no man can dress well with those hands and feet!

Ah! said Vincent, I should think he went to the best tailor, and said, give me a collar like Lord So and Sos; one who would not dare to have a new waistcoat till it had been authoritatively patronized, and who took his fashions, like his follies, from the best proficients. Such fellows are always too ashamed of themselves not to be proud of their clotheslike the Chinese mariners, they burn incense before the needle!

And Mr. Howard de Howard, said I, laughing, what do you think of him?

What! the thin secretary? cried Vincent.

He is the mathematical definition of a straight linelength without breadth. His inseparable friend, Mr. Aberton, was running up the Rue St. Honore yesterday in order to catch him.

Running! cried I, just like common peoplewhen were you or I ever seen running?

True, continued Vincent; but when I saw him chasing that meagre apparition, I said to Bennington, I have found out the real Peter Schlemil! Who? (asked his grave lordship, with serious naivete) Mr. Aberton, said I; dont you see him running after his shadow? But the pride of the lean thing is so amusing! He is fifteenth cousin to the duke, and so his favourite exordium is, Whenever I succeed to the titles of my ancestors.It was but the other day, that he heard two or three silly young men discussing church and state, and they began by talking irreligion(Mr. Howard de Howard is too unsubstantial not to be spiritually inclined)however he only fidgeted in his chair. They then proceeded to be exceedingly disloyal. Mr. Howard de Howard fidgeted again;they then passed to vituperations on the aristocracythis the attenuated pomposity (magni nominis umbra) could brook no longer. He rose up, cast a severe look on the abashed youths, and thus addressed themGentlemen, I have sate by in silence, and heard my King derided, and my God blasphemed; but now in attacking the aristocracy, I can no longer refrain from noticing so obviously intentional an insult. You have become personal. But did you know, Pelham, that he is going to be married?

No, said I. I cant say that I thought such an event likely. Who is the intended?

A Miss, a girl with some fortune. I can bring her none, said he to the father, but I can make her Mrs. Howard de Howard.

Alas, poor girl! said I, I fear that her happiness will hang upon a slender thread. But suppose we change the conversation: first, because the subject is so meagre, that we might easily wear it out, and secondly, because such jests may come home. I am not very corpulent myself.

Bah! said Vincent, but at least you have bones and muscles. If you were to pound the poor secretary in a mortar, you might take him all up in a pinch of snuff.

Pray, Vincent, said I, after a short pause, did you ever meet with a Mr. Thornton, at Paris?

Thornton, Thornton, said Vincent, musingly; what, Tom Thornton?

I should think, very likely, I replied; just the sort of man who would be Tom Thorntonhas a broad face, with a colour, and wears a spotted neckcloth; Tomwhat could his name be but Tom?

Is he about five-and-thirty? asked Vincent, rather short, and with reddish coloured hair and whiskers?

Precisely, said I; are not all Toms alike?

Ah, said Vincent, I know him well: he is a clever, shrewd fellow, but a most unmitigated rascal. He is the son of a steward in Lancashire, and received an attorneys education; but being a humorous, noisy fellow, he became a great favourite with his fathers employer, who was a sort of Mecaenas to cudgel players, boxers, and horse jockies. At his house, Thornton met many persons of rank, but of a taste similar to their hosts: and they, mistaking his vulgar coarseness for honesty, and his quaint proverbs for wit, admitted him into their society. It was with one of them that I have seen him. I believe of late, that his character has been of a very indifferent odour: and whatever has brought him among the English at Paristhose white-washed abominationsthose innocent blacknesses, as Charles Lamb calls chimney sweepers, it does not argue well for his professional occupations. I should think, however, that he manages to live here; for wherever there are English fools, there are fine pickings for an English rogue.