บทที่ บทที่ 34 · 第34章

Eugene was dumb. He folded his arms and paced up and down in his

cheerless, untidy room. Father Goriot waited till the student’s back was

turned, and seized the opportunity to go to the chimney-piece and set

upon it a little red morocco case with Rastignac’s arms stamped in gold

on the leather.

“My dear boy,” said the kind soul, “I have been up to the eyes in this

business. You see, there was plenty of selfishness on my part; I have an

interested motive in helping you to change lodgings. You will not refuse

me if I ask you something; will you, eh?”

“What is it?”

“There is a room on the fifth floor, up above your rooms, that is to let

along with them; that is where I am going to live, isn’t that so? I am

getting old: I am too far from my girls. I shall not be in the way, but

I shall be there, that is all. You will come and talk to me about her

every evening. It will not put you about, will it? I shall have gone to

bed before you come in, but I shall hear you come up, and I shall say

to myself, ‘He has just seen my little Delphine. He has been to a dance

with her, and she is happy, thanks to him.’ If I were ill, it would do

my heart good to hear you moving about below, to know when you leave

the house and when you come in. It is only a step to the Champs-Elysees,

where they go every day, so I shall be sure of seeing them, whereas now

I am sometimes too late. And then--perhaps she may come to see you! I

shall hear her, I shall see her in her soft quilted pelisse tripping

about as daintily as a kitten. In this one month she has become my

little girl again, so light-hearted and gay. Her soul is recovering, and

her happiness is owing to you! Oh! I would do impossibilities for you.

Only just now she said to me, ‘I am very happy, papa!’ When they say

‘father’ stiffly, it sends a chill through me; but when they call me

‘papa,’ it brings all the old memories back. I feel most their father

then; I even believe that they belong to me, and to no one else.”

The good man wiped his eyes, he was crying.

“It is a long while since I have heard them talk like that, a long, long

time since she took my arm as she did to-day. Yes, indeed, it must be

quite ten years since I walked side by side with one of my girls. How

pleasant it was to keep step with her, to feel the touch of her gown,

the warmth of her arm! Well, I took Delphine everywhere this morning; I

went shopping with her, and I brought her home again. Oh! you must let

me live near you. You may want some one to do you a service some of

these days, and I shall be on the spot to do it. Oh! if only that great

dolt of an Alsatian would die, if his gout would have the sense to

attack his stomach, how happy my poor child would be! You would be my

son-in-law; you would be her husband in the eyes of the world. Bah! she

has known no happiness, that excuses everything. Our Father in heaven is

surely on the side of fathers on earth who love their children. How fond

of you she is!” he said, raising his head after a pause. “All the time

we were going about together she chatted away about you. ‘He is so

nice-looking, papa; isn’t he? He is kind-hearted! Does he talk to you

about me?’ Pshaw! she said enough about you to fill whole volumes;

between the Rue d’Artois and the Passage des Panoramas she poured her

heart out into mine. I did not feel old once during that delightful

morning; I felt as light as a feather. I told her how you had given the

banknote to me; it moved my darling to tears. But what can this be on

your chimney-piece?” said Father Goriot at last. Rastignac had showed no

sign, and he was dying of impatience.

Eugene stared at his neighbor in dumb and dazed bewilderment. He thought

of Vautrin, of that duel to be fought to-morrow morning, and of this

realization of his dearest hopes, and the violent contrast between the

two sets of ideas gave him all the sensations of nightmare. He went to

the chimney-piece, saw the little square case, opened it, and found

a watch of Breguet’s make wrapped in paper, on which these words were

written:

“I want you to think of me every hour, _because_...

“DELPHINE.”

That last word doubtless contained an allusion to some scene that

had taken place between them. Eugene felt touched. Inside the gold

watch-case his arms had been wrought in enamel. The chain, the key, the

workmanship and design of the trinket were all such as he had imagined,

for he had long coveted such a possession. Father Goriot was radiant. Of

course he had promised to tell his daughter every little detail of the

scene and of the effect produced upon Eugene by her present; he shared

in the pleasure and excitement of the young people, and seemed to be not

the least happy of the three. He loved Rastignac already for his own as

well as for his daughter’s sake.

“You must go and see her; she is expecting you this evening. That great

lout of an Alsatian is going to have supper with his opera-dancer. Aha!

he looked very foolish when my attorney let him know where he was. He

says he idolizes my daughter, does he? He had better let her alone, or I

will kill him. To think that my Delphine is his”--he heaved a sigh--“it

is enough to make me murder him, but it would not be manslaughter to

kill that animal; he is a pig with a calf’s brains.--You will take me

with you, will you not?”

“Yes, dear Father Goriot; you know very well how fond I am of you----”

“Yes, I do know very well. You are not ashamed of me, are you? Not you!

Let me embrace you,” and he flung his arms around the student’s neck.

“You will make her very happy; promise me that you will! You will go to

her this evening, will you not?”

“Oh! yes. I must go out; I have some urgent business on hand.”

“Can I be of any use?”

“My word, yes! Will you go to old Taillefer’s while I go to Mme. de

Nucingen? Ask him to make an appointment with me some time this evening;

it is a matter of life and death.”

“Really, young man!” cried Father Goriot, with a change of countenance;

“are you really paying court to his daughter, as those simpletons were

saying down below?... _Tonnerre de dieu!_ you have no notion what a tap

_a la Goriot_ is like, and if you are playing a double game, I shall put

a stop to it by one blow of the fist... Oh! the thing is impossible!”

“I swear to you that I love but one woman in the world,” said the

student. “I only knew it a moment ago.”

“Oh! what happiness!” cried Goriot.

“But young Taillefer has been called out; the duel comes off to-morrow

morning, and I have heard it said that he may lose his life in it.”

“But what business is it of yours?” said Goriot.

“Why, I ought to tell him so, that he may prevent his son from putting

in an appearance----”

Just at that moment Vautrin’s voice broke in upon them; he was standing

at the threshold of his door and singing:

“Oh! Richard, oh my king!

All the world abandons thee!

Broum! broum! broum! broum! broum!

The same old story everywhere,

A roving heart and a... tra la la.”

“Gentlemen!” shouted Christophe, “the soup is ready, and every one is

waiting for you.”

“Here,” Vautrin called down to him, “come and take a bottle of my

Bordeaux.”

“Do you think your watch is pretty?” asked Goriot. “She has good taste,

hasn’t she? Eh?”

Vautrin, Father Goriot, and Rastignac came downstairs in company, and,

all three of them being late, were obliged to sit together.

Eugene was as distant as possible in his manner to Vautrin during

dinner; but the other, so charming in Mme. Vauquer’s opinion, had never

been so witty. His lively sallies and sparkling talk put the whole

table in good humor. His assurance and coolness filled Eugene with

consternation.

“Why, what has come to you to-day?” inquired Mme. Vauquer. “You are as

merry as a skylark.”

“I am always in spirits after I have made a good bargain.”

“Bargain?” said Eugene.

“Well, yes, bargain. I have just delivered a lot of goods, and I shall

be paid a handsome commission on them--Mlle. Michonneau,” he went on,

seeing that the elderly spinster was scrutinizing him intently, “have

you any objection to some feature in my face, that you are making those

lynx eyes at me? Just let me know, and I will have it changed to oblige

you... We shall not fall out about it, Poiret, I dare say?” he added,

winking at the superannuated clerk.

“Bless my soul, you ought to stand as model for a burlesque Hercules,”

said the young painter.

“I will, upon my word! if Mlle. Michonneau will consent to sit as the

Venus of Pere-Lachaise,” replied Vautrin.

“There’s Poiret,” suggested Bianchon.

“Oh! Poiret shall pose as Poiret. He can be a garden god!” cried

Vautrin; “his name means a pear----”

“A sleepy pear!” Bianchon put in. “You will come in between the pear and

the cheese.”

“What stuff are you all talking!” said Mme. Vauquer; “you would do

better to treat us to your Bordeaux; I see a glimpse of a bottle there.

It would keep us all in a good humor, and it is good for the stomach

besides.”

“Gentlemen,” said Vautrin, “the Lady President calls us to order. Mme.

Couture and Mlle. Victorine will take your jokes in good part, but

respect the innocence of the aged Goriot. I propose a glass or two of

Bordeauxrama, rendered twice illustrious by the name of Laffite, no

political allusions intended.--Come, you Turk!” he added, looking at

Christophe, who did not offer to stir. “Christophe! Here! What, you

don’t answer to your own name? Bring us some liquor, Turk!”

“Here it is, sir,” said Christophe, holding out the bottle.

Vautrin filled Eugene’s glass and Goriot’s likewise, then he

deliberately poured out a few drops into his own glass, and sipped it

while his two neighbors drank their wine. All at once he made a grimace.

“Corked!” he cried. “The devil! You can drink the rest of this,

Christophe, and go and find another bottle; take from the right-hand

side, you know. There are sixteen of us; take down eight bottles.”

“If you are going to stand treat,” said the painter, “I will pay for a

hundred chestnuts.”

“Oh! oh!”

“Booououh!”

“Prrr!”

These exclamations came from all parts of the table like squibs from a

set firework.