บทที่ บทที่ 12 · A JOURNEY

. A JOURNEY

Elegant people are to be found in Paris. People of

character may exist in the provinces.--Sièyes

At five o'clock the following day, before Madame de Rênal was visible,

Julien obtained a three days' holiday from her husband. Contrary to his

expectation Julien found himself desirous of seeing her again. He kept

thinking of that pretty hand of hers. He went down into the garden, but

Madame de Rênal kept him waiting for a long time. But if Julien had

loved her, he would have seen her forehead glued to the pane behind the

half-closed blinds on the first floor. She was looking at him. Finally,

in spite of her resolutions, she decided to go into the garden. Her

habitual pallor had been succeeded by more lively hues. This woman,

simple as she was, was manifestly agitated; a sentiment of constraint,

and even of anger, altered that expression of profound serenity which

seemed, as it were, to be above all the vulgar interests of life and

gave so much charm to that divine face.

Julien approached her with eagerness, admiring those beautiful arms

which were just visible through a hastily donned shawl. The freshness

of the morning air seemed to accentuate still more the brilliance of

her complexion which the agitation of the past night rendered all the

more susceptible to all impressions. This demure and pathetic beauty,

which was, at the same time, full of thoughts which are never found in

the inferior classes, seemed to reveal to Julien a faculty in his own

soul which he had never before realised. Engrossed in his admiration of

the charms on which his his greedy gaze was riveted, Julien took for

granted the friendly welcome which he was expecting to receive. He was

all the more astonished at the icy coldness which she endeavoured to

manifest to him, and through which he thought he could even distinguish

the intention of putting him in his place.

The smile of pleasure died away from his lips as he remembered his

rank in society, especially from the point of view of a rich and noble

heiress. In a single moment his face exhibited nothing but haughtiness

and anger against himself. He felt violently disgusted that he could

have put off his departure for more than an hour, simply to receive so

humiliating a welcome.

"It is only a fool," he said to himself, "who is angry with others; a

stone falls because it is heavy. Am I going to be a child all my life?

How on earth is it that I manage to contract the charming habit of

showing my real self to those people simply in return for their money?

If I want to win their respect and that of my own self, I must shew

them that it is simply a business transaction between my poverty and

their wealth, but that my heart is a thousand leagues away from their

insolence, and is situated in too high a sphere to be affected by their

petty marks of favour or disdain."

While these feelings were crowding the soul of the young tutor, his

mobile features assumed an expression of ferocity and injured pride.

Madame de Rênal was extremely troubled. The virtuous coldness that she

had meant to put into her welcome was succeeded by an expression of

interest--an interest animated by all the surprise brought about by

the sudden change which she had just seen. The empty morning platitudes

about their health and the fineness of the day suddenly dried up.

Julien's judgment was disturbed by no passion, and he soon found a

means of manifesting to Madame de Rênal how light was the friendly

relationship that he considered existed between them. He said nothing

to her about the little journey that he was going to make; saluted her,

and went away.

As she watched him go, she was overwhelmed by the sombre haughtiness

which she read in that look which had been so gracious the previous

evening. Her eldest son ran up from the bottom of the garden, and said

as he kissed her,

"We have a holiday, M. Julien is going on a journey."

At these words, Madame de Rênal felt seized by a deadly coldness. She

was unhappy by reason of her virtue, and even more unhappy by reason of

her weakness.

This new event engrossed her imagination, and she was transported far

beyond the good resolutions which she owed to the awful night she had

just passed. It was not now a question of resisting that charming

lover, but of losing him for ever.

It was necessary to appear at breakfast. To complete her anguish, M. de

Rênal and Madame Derville talked of nothing but Julien's departure. The

mayor of Verrières had noticed something unusual in the firm tone in

which he had asked for a holiday.

"That little peasant has no doubt got somebody else's offer up his

sleeve, but that somebody else, even though it's M. Valenod, is bound

to be a little discouraged by the sum of six hundred francs, which the

annual salary now tots up to. He must have asked yesterday at Verrières

for a period of three days to think it over, and our little gentleman

runs off to the mountains this morning so as not to be obliged to give

me an answer. Think of having to reckon with a wretched workman who

puts on airs, but that's what we've come to."

"If my husband, who does not know how deeply he has wounded Julien,

thinks that he will leave us, what can I think myself?" said Madame de

Rênal to herself. "Yes, that is all decided." In order to be able at

any rate to be free to cry, and to avoid answering Madame Derville's

questions, she pleaded an awful headache, and went to bed.

"That's what women are," repeated M. de Rênal, "there is always

something out of order in those complicated machines," and he went off

jeering.

While Madame de Rênal was a prey to all the poignancy of the terrible

passion in which chance had involved her, Julien went merrily on his

way, surrounded by the most beautiful views that mountain scenery

can offer. He had to cross the great chain north of Vergy. The path

which he followed rose gradually among the big beech woods, and ran

into infinite spirals on the slope of the high mountain which forms

the northern boundary of the Doubs valley. Soon the traveller's view,

as he passed over the lower slopes bounding the course of the Doubs

towards the south, extends as far as the fertile plains of Burgundy and

Beaujolais. However insensible was the soul of this ambitious youth to

this kind of beauty, he could not help stopping from time to time to

look at a spectacle at once so vast and so impressive.

Finally, he reached the summit of the great mountain, near which

he had to pass in order to arrive by this cross-country route at

the solitary valley where lived his friend Fouqué, the young wood

merchant. Julien was in no hurry to see him; either him, or any other

human being. Hidden like a bird of prey amid the bare rocks which

crowned the great mountain, he could see a long way off anyone coming

near him. He discovered a little grotto in the middle of the almost

vertical slope of one of the rocks. He found a way to it, and was soon

ensconced in this retreat. "Here," he said, "with eyes brilliant with

joy, men cannot hurt me." It occurred to him to indulge in the pleasure

of writing down those thoughts of his which were so dangerous to him

everywhere else. A square stone served him for a desk; his pen flew. He

saw nothing of what was around him. He noticed at last that the sun was

setting behind the distant mountains of Beaujolais.

"Why shouldn't I pass the night here?" he said to himself. "I have

bread, and I am free." He felt a spiritual exultation at the sound of

that great word. The necessity of playing the hypocrite resulted in his

not being free, even at Fouqué's. Leaning his head on his two hands,

Julien stayed in the grotto, more happy than he had ever been in his

life, thrilled by his dreams, and by the bliss of his freedom. Without

realising it, he saw all the rays of the twilight become successively

extinguished. Surrounded by this immense obscurity, his soul wandered

into the contemplation of what he imagined that he would one day meet

in Paris. First it was a woman, much more beautiful and possessed of a

much more refined temperament than anything he could have found in the

provinces. He loved with passion, and was loved. If he separated from

her for some instants, it was only to cover himself with glory, and to

deserve to be loved still more.

A young man brought up in the environment of the sad truths of Paris

society, would, on reaching this point in his romance, even if we

assume him possessed of Julien's imagination, have been brought back

to himself by the cold irony of the situation. Great deeds would have

disappeared from out his ken together with hope of achieving them and

have been succeeded by the platitude. "If one leave one's mistress

one runs alas! the risk of being deceived two or three times a day."

But the young peasant saw nothing but the lack of opportunity between

himself and the most heroic feats.

But a deep night had succeeded the day, and there were still two

leagues to walk before he could descend to the cabin in which Fouqué

lived. Before leaving the little cave, Julien made a light and

carefully burnt all that he had written. He quite astonished his friend

when he knocked at his door at one o'clock in the morning. He found

Fouqué engaged in making up his accounts. He was a young man of high

stature, rather badly made, with big, hard features, a never-ending

nose, and a large fund of good nature concealed beneath this repulsive

appearance.

"Have you quarelled with M. de Rênal then that you turn up unexpectedly

like this?" Julien told him, but in a suitable way, the events of the

previous day.

"Stay with me," said Fouqué to him. "I see that you know M. de Rênal,

M. Valenod, the sub-prefect Maugron, the curé Chélan. You have

understood the subtleties of the character of those people. So there

you are then, quite qualified to attend auctions. You know arithmetic

better than I do; you will keep my accounts; I make a lot in my

business. The impossibility of doing everything myself, and the fear

of taking a rascal for my partner prevents me daily from undertaking

excellent business. It's scarcely a month since I put Michaud de

Saint-Amand, whom I haven't seen for six years, and whom I ran across

at the sale at Pontarlier in the way of making six thousand francs. Why

shouldn't it have been you who made those six thousand francs, or at

any rate three thousand. For if I had had you with me that day, I would

have raised the bidding for that lot of timber and everybody else would

soon have run away. Be my partner."

This offer upset Julien. It spoilt the train of his mad dreams. Fouqué

showed his accounts to Julien during the whole of the supper--which the

two friends prepared themselves like the Homeric heroes (for Fouqué

lived alone) and proved to him all the advantages offered by his timber

business. Fouqué had the highest opinion of the gifts and character of

Julien.

When, finally, the latter was alone in his little room of pinewood, he

said to himself: "It is true I can make some thousands of francs here

and then take up with advantage the profession of a soldier, or of a

priest, according to the fashion then prevalent in France. The little

hoard that I shall have amassed will remove all petty difficulties. In

the solitude of this mountain I shall have dissipated to some extent my

awful ignorance of so many of the things which make up the life of all

those men of fashion. But Fouqué has given up all thoughts of marriage,

and at the same time keeps telling me that solitude makes him unhappy.

It is clear that if he takes a partner who has no capital to put into

his business, he does so in the hopes of getting a companion who will

never leave him."

"Shall I deceive my friend," exclaimed Julien petulantly. This being

who found hypocrisy and complete callousness his ordinary means of

self-preservation could not, on this occasion, endure the idea of the

slightest lack of delicate feeling towards a man whom he loved.

But suddenly Julien was happy. He had a reason for a refusal. What!

Shall I be coward enough to waste seven or eight years. I shall get to

twenty-eight in that way! But at that age Bonaparte had achieved his

greatest feats. When I shall have made in obscurity a little money by

frequenting timber sales, and earning the good graces of some rascally

under-strappers who will guarantee that I shall still have the sacred

fire with which one makes a name for oneself?

The following morning, Julien with considerable sangfroid, said in

answer to the good Fouqué, who regarded the matter of the partnership

as settled, that his vocation for the holy ministry of the altars would

not permit him to accept it. Fouqué did not return to the subject.

"But just think," he repeated to him, "I'll make you my partner, or if

you prefer it, I'll give you four thousand francs a year, and you want

to return to that M. de Rênal of yours, who despises you like the mud

on his shoes. When you have got two hundred louis in front of you, what

is to prevent you from entering the seminary? I'll go further: I will

undertake to procure for you the best living in the district, for,"

added Fouqué, lowering his voice, I supply firewood to M. le ----, M.

le ----, M. ----. I provide them with first quality oak, but they only

pay me for plain wood, but never was money better invested.

Nothing could conquer Julien's vocation. Fouqué finished by thinking

him a little mad. The third day, in the early morning, Julien left his

friend, and passed the day amongst the rocks of the great mountain. He

found his little cave again, but he had no longer peace of mind. His

friend's offers had robbed him of it. He found himself, not between

vice and virtue, like Hercules, but between mediocrity coupled with

an assured prosperity, and all the heroic dreams of his youth. "So I

have not got real determination after all," he said to himself, and it

was his doubt on this score which pained him the most. "I am not of

the stuff of which great men are made, because I fear that eight years

spent in earning a livelihood will deprive me of that sublime energy

which inspires the accomplishment of extraordinary feats."