Chương Chương 195 · ADVENTURES OF THE LETTER U DELIVERED OVER TO CONJECTURES
Isolation, detachment, from everything, pride, independence, the taste
of nature, the absence of daily and material activity, the life within
himself, the secret conflicts of chastity, a benevolent ecstasy towards
all creation, had prepared Marius for this possession which is called
passion. His worship of his father had gradually become a religion,
and, like all religions, it had retreated to the depths of his soul.
Something was required in the foreground. Love came.
A full month elapsed, during which Marius went every day to the
Luxembourg. When the hour arrived, nothing could hold him back.—“He is
on duty,” said Courfeyrac. Marius lived in a state of delight. It is
certain that the young girl did look at him.
He had finally grown bold, and approached the bench. Still, he did not
pass in front of it any more, in obedience to the instinct of timidity
and to the instinct of prudence common to lovers. He considered it
better not to attract “the attention of the father.” He combined his
stations behind the trees and the pedestals of the statues with a
profound diplomacy, so that he might be seen as much as possible by the
young girl and as little as possible by the old gentleman. Sometimes,
he remained motionless by the half-hour together in the shade of a
Leonidas or a Spartacus, holding in his hand a book, above which his
eyes, gently raised, sought the beautiful girl, and she, on her side,
turned her charming profile towards him with a vague smile. While
conversing in the most natural and tranquil manner in the world with
the white-haired man, she bent upon Marius all the reveries of a
virginal and passionate eye. Ancient and time-honored manœuvre which
Eve understood from the very first day of the world, and which every
woman understands from the very first day of her life! her mouth
replied to one, and her glance replied to another.
It must be supposed, that M. Leblanc finally noticed something, for
often, when Marius arrived, he rose and began to walk about. He had
abandoned their accustomed place and had adopted the bench by the
Gladiator, near the other end of the walk, as though with the object of
seeing whether Marius would pursue them thither. Marius did not
understand, and committed this error. “The father” began to grow
inexact, and no longer brought “his daughter” every day. Sometimes, he
came alone. Then Marius did not stay. Another blunder.
Marius paid no heed to these symptoms. From the phase of timidity, he
had passed, by a natural and fatal progress, to the phase of blindness.
His love increased. He dreamed of it every night. And then, an
unexpected bliss had happened to him, oil on the fire, a redoubling of
the shadows over his eyes. One evening, at dusk, he had found, on the
bench which “M. Leblanc and his daughter” had just quitted, a
handkerchief, a very simple handkerchief, without embroidery, but
white, and fine, and which seemed to him to exhale ineffable perfume.
He seized it with rapture. This handkerchief was marked with the
letters U. F. Marius knew nothing about this beautiful child,—neither
her family name, her Christian name nor her abode; these two letters
were the first thing of her that he had gained possession of, adorable
initials, upon which he immediately began to construct his scaffolding.
U was evidently the Christian name. “Ursule!” he thought, “what a
delicious name!” He kissed the handkerchief, drank it in, placed it on
his heart, on his flesh, during the day, and at night, laid it beneath
his lips that he might fall asleep on it.
“I feel that her whole soul lies within it!” he exclaimed.
This handkerchief belonged to the old gentleman, who had simply let it
fall from his pocket.
In the days which followed the finding of this treasure, he only
displayed himself at the Luxembourg in the act of kissing the
handkerchief and laying it on his heart. The beautiful child understood
nothing of all this, and signified it to him by imperceptible signs.
“O modesty!” said Marius.