第41章BOOKTHESECOND：THEGOLDENTHREAD(24)

第41章bookthesecond：thegoldenthread(24)

theburstwithwhichthecarriagestartedoutofthevillageanduptherisebeyond，wassooncheckedbythesteepnessofthehill.gradually，itsubsidedtoafootpace，swingingandlumberingupwardamongthemanysweetscentsofasummernight.thepostilions，withathousandgossamergnatscirclingabouttheminlieuofthefuries，quietlymendedthepointstothelashesoftheirwhips；thevaletwalkedbythehorses；thecourierwasaudible，trottingonaheadintothedimdistance.

atthesteepestpointofthehilltherewasalittleburial-ground，withacrossandanewlargefigureofoursaviouronit；itwasapoorfigureinwood，donebysomeinexperiencedrusticcarver，buthehadstudiedthefigurefromthelife—hisownlife，maybe—foritwasdreadfullyspareandthin.

tothisdistressfulemblemofagreatdistressthathadlongbeengrowingworse，andwasnotatitsworst，awomanwaskneeling.sheturnedherheadasthecarriagecameuptoher，rosequickly，andpresentedherselfatthecarriage-door.

'itisyou，monseigneur！monseigneur，apetition.'

withanexclamationofimpatience，butwithhisunchangeableface，monseigneurlookedout.

'how，then！whatisit？alwayspetitions！'

'monseigneur.fortheloveofthegreatgod！myhusband，theforester.'

'whatofyourhusband，theforester？alwaysthesamewithyoupeople.hecannotpaysomething？'

'hehaspaidall，monseigneur.heisdead.'

'well！heisquiet.canirestorehimtoyou？'

'alas，nomonseigneur！butheliesyonder，underalittleheapofpoorgrass.'

'well？'

'monseigneur，therearesomanylittleheapsofpoorgrass.'

'again，well？'

shelookedanoldwoman，butwasyoung.hermannerwasoneofpassionategrief；byturnssheclaspedherveinousandknottedhandstogetherwithwildenergy，andlaidoneofthemonthecarriage-door—tenderly，caressingly，asifithadbeenahumanbreast，andcouldbeexpectedtofeeltheappealingtouch.

'monseigneur，hearme！monseigneur，hearmypetition！myhusbanddiedofwant；somanydieofwant；somanymorewilldieofwant.'

'again，well？canifeedthem？'

'monseigneur，thegoodgodknows；butidon'taskit.mypetitionis，thatamorselofstoneorwood，withmyhusband'sname，maybeplacedoverhimtoshowwherehelies.otherwise，theplacewillbequicklyforgotten，itwillneverbefoundwheniamdeadofthesamemalady.ishallbelaidundersomeotherheapofpoorgrass.monseigneur，theyaresomany，theyincreasesofast，thereissomuchwant.monseigneur！monseigneur！'

thevalethadputherawayfromthedoor，thecarriagehadbrokenintoabrisktrot，thepostilionshadquickenedthepace，shewasleftfarbehind，andmonseigneur，againescortedbythefuries，wasrapidlydiminishingtheleagueortwoofdistancethatremainedbetweenhimandhischateau.

thesweetscentsofthesummernightroseallaroundhim，androse，astherainfalls，impartially，ontherusty，ed，andtoil-worngroupatthefountainnotfaraway；towhomthemenderofroads，withtheaidofthebluecapwithoutwhichhewasnothing，stillenlargeduponhismanlikeaspectre，aslongastheycouldbearit.bydegrees，astheycouldbearnomore，theydroppedoffonebyone，andlightstwinkledinlittlecasements；whichlights，asthecasementsdarkened，andmorestarscameout，seemedtohaveshotupintotheskyinsteadofhavingbeenextinguished.

theshadowofalargehigh-roofedhouse，andofmanyoverhangingtrees，wasuponmonsieurthemarquisbythattime；andtheshadowwasexchangedforthelightofaflambeau，ashiscarriagestopped，andthegreatdoorofhischateauwasopenedtohim.

'monsieurcharles，whomiexpect；ishearrivedfromengland？'

'monseigneur，notyet.'

xv.thegorgon'shead

itwasaheavymassofbuilding，thatchateauofmonsieurthemarquis，withalargestonecourtyardbeforeit，andtwostonesweepsofstaircasemeetinginastoneterracebeforetheprincipaldoor.astonybusinessaltogether，withheavystonebalustrades，andstoneurns，andstoneflowers，andstonefacesofmen，andstoneheadsoflions，inalldirections.asifthegorgon'sheadhadsurveyedit，whenitwasfinished，twocenturiesago.

uponthebroadflightofshallowsteps，monsieurthemarquis，flambeaupreceded，wentfromhiscarriage，sufficientlydisturbingthedarknesstoelicitloudremonstrancefromanowlintheroofofthegreatpileofstablebuildingawayamongthetrees.allelsewassoquiet，thattheflambeaucarriedupthesteps，andtheotherflambeauheldatthegreatdoor，burntasiftheywereinacloseroomofstate，insteadofbeingintheopennightair.othersoundthantheowl'svoicetherewasnone，savethefallingofthefountainintoitsstonebasin；for，itwasoneofthosedarknightsthatholdtheirbreathbythehourtogether，andthenheavealonglowsigh，andholdtheirbreathagain.

thegreatdoorclangedbehindhim，andmonsieurthemarquiscrossedahallgrimwithcertainoldboar-spears，swords，andknivesofthechase；grimmerwithcertainheavyriding-rodsandriding-whips，ofwhichmanyapeasant，gonetohisbenefactordeath，hadfelttheweightwhenhislordwasangry.

avoidingthelargerrooms，whichweredarkandmadefastforthenight，monsieurthemarquis，withhisflambeau-bearergoingonbefore，wentupthestaircasetoadoorinacorridor.thisthrownopen，admittedhimtohisownprivateapartmentofthreerooms：hisbedchamberandtwoothers.highvaultedroomswithcooluncarpetedfloors，greatdogsuponthehearthsfortheburningofwoodinwintertime，andallluxuriesbefittingthestateofamarquisinaluxuriousageandcountry.thefashionofthelastlouisbutone，ofthelinethatwasnevertobreak—thefourteenthlouis—wasconspicuousintheirrichfurniture；but，itwasdiversifiedbymanyobjectsthatwereillustrationsofoldpagesinthehistoryoffrance.