书城公版The Brotherhood of Consolation
19557300000047

第47章

A CASE TO INVESTIGATE

Godefroid walked from the cloister of Notre-Dame to the avenue de l'Observatoire in such a state of exaltation that he never noticed the length of the way.

When he reached the rue Notre-Dame des Champs at the point where it joins the rue de l'Ouest he was amazed to find (neither of these streets being paved at the time of which we write) great mud-holes in that fine open quarter.Persons walked on planks laid down beside the houses and along the marshy gardens, or on narrow paths flanked on each side by stagnant water which sometimes turned them into rivulets.

By dint of searching he found the house he wanted, but he did not reach it without difficulty.It was evidently an abandoned factory.

The building was narrow and the side of it was a long wall with many windows and no architectural decoration whatever.None of these windows, which were square, were on the lower floor, where there was no opening but a very miserable entrance-door.

Godefroid supposed that the proprietor had turned the building into a number of small tenements to make it profitable, for a written placard above the door stated that there were "Several rooms to let."Godefroid rang, but no one came.While he was waiting, a person who went by pointed out to him that the house had another entrance on the boulevard where he might get admittance.

Godefroid followed this advice and saw at the farther end of a little garden which extended along the boulevard a second door to the house.

The garden, rather ill-kept, sloped downward, for there was enough difference in level between the boulevard and the rue Notre-Dame des Champs to make it a sort of ditch.Godefroid therefore walked along one of the paths, at the end of which he saw an old woman whose dilapidated garments were in keeping with the house.

"Was it you who rang at the other door?" she asked.

"Yes, madame.Do you show the lodgings?"

On the woman's replying that she did, Godefroid inquired if the other lodgers were quiet persons; his occupations, he said, were such that he needed silence and peace; he was a bachelor and would be glad to arrange with the portress to do his housekeeping.

On this suggestion the portress assumed a gracious manner.

"Monsieur has fallen on his feet in coming here, then," she said;"except on the Chaumiere days the boulevard is as lonely as the Pontine marshes.""Ah! you know the Pontine marshes?" said Godefroid.

"No, monsieur, I don't; but I've got an old gentleman upstairs whose daughter seems to get her living by being ill, and he says that; Ionly repeat it.The poor old man will be glad to know that monsieur likes quiet, for a noisy neighbor, he thinks, would kill his daughter.

On the second floor we have two writers; they don't come in till midnight, and are off before eight in the morning.They say they are authors, but I don't know where or when they write."While speaking, the portress was showing Godefroid up one of those horrible stairways of brick and wood so ill put together that it is hard to tell whether the wood is trying to get rid of the bricks or the bricks are trying to get away from the wood; the gaps between them were partly filled up by what was dust in summer and mud in winter.

The walls, of cracked and broken plaster, presented to the eye more inscriptions than the Academy of Belles-lettres has yet composed.The portress stopped on the first landing.

"Here, monsieur, are two rooms adjoining each other and every clean, which open opposite to those of Monsieur Bernard; that's the old gentleman I told you of,--quite a proper person.He is decorated; but it seems he has had misfortunes, for he never wears his ribbon.They formerly had a servant from the provinces, but they sent him away about three years ago; and now the young son of the lady does everything, housework and all."Godefroid made a gesture.

"Oh!" cried the Portress, "don't you be afraid; they won't say anything to you; they never speak to any one.They came here after the Revolution of July, in 1830.I think they're provincial folk ruined by the change of government; they are proud, I tell you! and dumb as fishes.For three years, monsieur, I declare they have not let me do the smallest thing for them for fear they should have to pay for it.Ahundred sous on New Year's day, that's all I get out of them.Talk to me of authors, indeed!"This gossip made Godefroid hope he should get some assistance out of the woman, who presently said, while praising the healthfulness of the two rooms she offered him, that she was not a portress, but the confidential agent of the proprietor, for whom she managed many of the affairs of the house.

"You may have confidence in me, monsieur, that you may! Madame Vauthier, it is well known, would rather have nothing than a single penny that ought to go to others."[A Vauthier was one of the accomplices of Bryond in the trial!--JB.]

Madame Vauthier soon came to terms with Godefroid who would not take the rooms unless he could have them by the single month and furnished.

These miserable rooms of students and unlucky authors were rented furnished or unfurnished as the case might be.The vast garret which extended over the whole building was filled with such furniture.But Monsieur Bernard, she said, had furnished his own rooms.

In making Madame Vauthier talk, Godefroid discovered she had intended to keep boarders in the building, but for the last five years had not obtained a single lodger of that description.She lived herself on the ground-floor facing towards the boulevard; and looked after the whole house, by the help of a huge mastiff, a stout servant-girl, and a lad who blacked the boots, took care of the rooms, and did the errands.