the hunchback of notre dame-第85部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

which　had　been　lavishing　caresses　on　her　feet　for　nearly　an　hour　past；　without　being　able　to　win　a　glance。　　The　gypsy　covered　him　with　kisses。

〃Oh！　　Djali！〃　she　said；　〃how　I　have　forgotten　thee！　　And　so　thou　still　thinkest　of　me！　　Oh！　thou　art　not　an　ingrate！〃

At　the　same　time；　as　though　an　invisible　hand　had　lifted　the　weight　which　had　repressed　her　tears　in　her　heart　for　so　long；　she　began　to　weep；　and；　in　proportion　as　her　tears　flowed；　she　felt　all　that　was　most　acrid　and　bitter　in　her　grief　depart　with　them。

Evening　came；　she　thought　the　night　so　beautiful　that　she　made　the　circuit　of　the　elevated　gallery　which　surrounds　the　church。　　It　afforded　her　some　relief；　so　calm　did　the　earth　appear　when　viewed　from　that　height。




CHAPTER　III。

DEAF。



On　the　following　morning；　she　perceived　on　awaking；　that　she　had　been　asleep。　　This　singular　thing　astonished　her。　She　had　been　so　long　unaccustomed　to　sleep！　　A　joyous　ray　of　the　rising　sun　entered　through　her　window　and　touched　her　face。　　At　the　same　time　with　the　sun；　she　beheld　at　that　window　an　object　which　frightened　her；　the　unfortunate　face　of　Quasimodo。　　She　involuntarily　closed　her　eyes　again；　but　in　vain；　she　fancied　that　she　still　saw　through　the　rosy　lids　that　gnome's　mask；　one…eyed　and　gap…toothed。　　Then；　while　she　still　kept　her　eyes　closed；　she　heard　a　rough　voice　saying；　very　gently；

〃Be　not　afraid。　　I　am　your　friend。　　I　came　to　watch　you　sleep。　　It　does　not　hurt　you　if　I　come　to　see　you　sleep；　does　it？　　What　difference　does　it　make　to　you　if　I　am　here　when　your　eyes　are　closed！　　Now　I　am　going。　　Stay；　I　have　placed　myself　behind　the　wall。　　You　can　open　your　eyes　again。〃

There　was　something　more　plaintive　than　these　words；　and　that　was　the　accent　in　which　they　were　uttered。　　The　gypsy；　much　touched；　opened　her　eyes。　　He　was；　in　fact；　no　longer　at　the　window。　　She　approached　the　opening；　and　beheld　the　poor　hunchback　crouching　in　an　angle　of　the　wall；　in　a　sad　and　resigned　attitude。　　She　made　an　effort　to　surmount　the　repugnance　with　which　he　inspired　her。　　〃Come；〃　she　said　to　him　gently。　　From　the　movement　of　the　gypsy's　lips；　Quasimodo　thought　that　she　was　driving　him　away；　then　he　rose　and　retired　limping；　slowly；　with　drooping　head；　without　even　daring　to　raise　to　the　young　girl　his　gaze　full　of　despair。　〃Do　come；〃　she　cried；　but　he　continued　to　retreat。　　Then　she　darted　from　her　cell；　ran　to　him；　and　grasped　his　arm。　On　feeling　her　touch　him；　Quasimodo　trembled　in　every　limb。　He　raised　his　suppliant　eye；　and　seeing　that　she　was　leading　him　back　to　her　quarters；　his　whole　face　beamed　with　joy　and　tenderness。　　She　tried　to　make　him　enter　the　cell；　but　he　persisted　in　remaining　on　the　threshold。　　〃No；　no；〃　said　he；　〃the　owl　enters　not　the　nest　of　the　lark。〃

Then　she　crouched　down　gracefully　on　her　couch；　with　her　goat　asleep　at　her　feet。　　Both　remained　motionless　for　several　moments；　considering　in　silence；　she　so　much　grace；　he　so　much　ugliness。　　Every　moment　she　discovered　some　fresh　deformity　in　Quasimodo。　　Her　glance　travelled　from　his　knock　knees　to　his　humped　back；　from　his　humped　back　to　his　only　eye。　　She　could　not　comprehend　the　existence　of　a　being　so　awkwardly　fashioned。　　Yet　there　was　so　much　sadness　and　so　much　gentleness　spread　over　all　this；　that　she　began　to　become　reconciled　to　it。

He　was　the　first　to　break　the　silence。　　〃So　you　were　telling　me　to　return？〃

She　made　an　affirmative　sign　of　the　head；　and　said；　〃Yes。〃

He　understood　the　motion　of　the　head。　　〃Alas！〃　he　said；　as　though　hesitating　whether　to　finish；　〃I　amI　am　deaf。〃

〃Poor　man！〃　exclaimed　the　Bohemian；　with　an　expression　of　kindly　pity。

He　began　to　smile　sadly。

〃You　think　that　that　was　all　that　I　lacked；　do　you　not？　Yes；　I　am　deaf；　that　is　the　way　I　am　made。　　'Tis　horrible；　is　it　not？　　You　are　so　beautiful！〃

There　lay　in　the　accents　of　the　wretched　man　so　profound　a　consciousness　of　his　misery；　that　she　had　not　the　strength　to　say　a　word。　　Besides；　he　would　not　have　heard　her。　　He　went　on；

〃Never　have　I　seen　my　ugliness　as　at　the　present　moment。　When　I　compare　myself　to　you；　I　feel　a　very　great　pity　for　myself；　poor　unhappy　monster　that　I　am！　　Tell　me；　I　must　look　to　you　like　a　beast。　　You；　you　are　a　ray　of　sunshine；　a　drop　of　dew；　the　song　of　a　bird！　　I　am　something　frightful；　neither　man　nor　animal；　I　know　not　what；　harder；　more　trampled　under　foot；　and　more　unshapely　than　a　pebble　stone！〃

Then　he　began　to　laugh；　and　that　laugh　was　the　most　heartbreaking　thing　in　the　world。　　He　continued；

〃Yes；　I　am　deaf；　but　you　shall　talk　to　me　by　gestures；　by　signs。　　I　have　a　master　who　talks　with　me　in　that　way。　And　then；　I　shall　very　soon　know　your　wish　from　the　movement　of　your　lips；　from　your　look。〃

〃Well！〃　she　interposed　with　a　smile；　〃tell　me　why　you　saved　me。〃

He　watched　her　attentively　while　she　was　speaking。

〃I　understand；〃　he　replied。　　〃You　ask　me　why　I　saved　you。　　You　have　forgotten　a　wretch　who　tried　to　abduct　you　one　night；　a　wretch　to　whom　you　rendered　succor　on　the　following　day　on　their　infamous　pillory。　　A　drop　of　water　and　a　little　pity；that　is　more　than　I　can　repay　with　my　life。　You　have　forgotten　that　wretch；　but　he　remembers　it。〃

She　listened　to　him　with　profound　tenderness。　　A　tear　swam　in　the　eye　of　the　bellringer；　but　did　not　fall。　　He　seemed　to　make　it　a　sort　of　point　of　honor　to　retain　it。

〃Listen；〃　he　resumed；　when　he　was　no　longer　afraid　that　the　tear　would　escape；　〃our　towers　here　are　very　high；　a　man　who　should　fall　from　them　would　be　dead　before　touching　the　pavement；　when　it　shall　please　you　to　have　me　fall；　you　will　not　have　to　utter　even　a　word；　a　glance　will　suffice。〃

Then　he　rose。　　Unhappy　as　was　the　Bohemian；　this　eccentric　being　still　aroused　some　compassion　in　her。　　She　made　him　a　sign　to　remain。

〃No；　no；〃　said　he；　〃I　must　not　remain　too　long。　　I　am　not　at　my　ease。　　It　is　out　of　pity　that　you　do　not　turn　away　your　eyes。　　I　shall　go　to　some　place　where　I　can　see　you　without　your　seeing　me：　it　will　be　better　so。〃

He　drew　from　his　pocket　a　little　metal　whistle。

〃Here；〃　said　he；　〃when　you　have　need　of　me；　when　you　wish　me　to　come；　when　you　will　not　feel　too　ranch　horror　at　the　sight　of　me；　use　this　whistle。　　I　can　hear　this　sound。〃

He　laid　the　whistle　on　the　floor　and　fled。




CHAPTER　IV。

EARTHENWARE　AND　CRYSTAL。



Day　followed　day。　　Calm　gradually　returned　to　the　soul　of　la　Esmeralda。　　Excess　of　grief；　like　excess　of　joy　is　a　violent　thing　which　lasts　but　a　short　time。　　The　heart　of　man　cannot　remain　long　in　one　extremity。　　The　gypsy　had　suffered　so　much；　that　nothing　was　left　her　but　astonishment。　　With　security；　hope　had　returned　to　her。　　She　was　outside　the　pale　of　society；　outside　the　pale　of　life；　but　she　had　a　vague　feeling　that　it　might　not　be　impossible　to　return　to　it。　　She　was　like　a　dead　person；　who　should　hold　in　reserve　the　key　to　her　tomb。

She　felt　the　terrible　images　which　had　so　long　persecuted　her；　gradually　departing。　　All　the　hideous　phantoms；　Pierrat　Torterue；　Jacques　Charmolue；　were　effaced　from　her　mind；　all；　even　the　priest。

And　then；　Phoebus　was　alive；　she　was　sure　of　it；　she　had　seen　him。　　To　her　the　fact　of　Phoebus　being　alive　was　everything。　After　the　series　of　fatal　shocks　which　had　overturned　everything　within　her；　she　had　found　but　one　thing　intact　in　her　soul；　one　sentiment；her　love　for　the　captain。　　Love　is　like　a　tree；　it　sprouts　forth　of　itself；　sends　its　roots　out　deeply　through　our　whole　being；　and　often　continues　to　flourish　greenly　over　a　heart　in　ruins。

And　the　inexplicable　point　about　it　is　that　the　more　blind　is　this　passion；　the　more　tenacious　it　is。　　It　is　never　more　solid　than　when　it　has　no　reason　in　it。

La　Esmeralda　did　not　think　of　the　captain　without　bitterness；　no　doubt。　　No　doubt　it　was　terrible　that　he　also　should　have　been　deceived；　that　he　should　have　believed　that　impossible　thing；　that　he　could　have　conceived　of　a　stab　dealt　by　her　who　would　have　given　a　thousand　lives　for　him。　　But；　after　all；　she　must　not　be　too　angry　with　him　for　it；　had　she　not　confessed　her　crime？　had　she　not　yielded；　weak　woman　that　she　was；　to　torture？　　The　fault　was　entirely　hers。　　She　should　have　allowed　her　finger　nails　to　be　torn　out　rather　than　such　a　word　to　be　wrenched　from　her。　　In　short；　if　she　could　but　see　Phoebus　once　more；　for　a　single　minute；　only　one　word　would　be　required；　one　look；　in　order　to　undeceive　him；　to　bring　him　back。　　She　did　not　doubt　it。　　She　was　astonished　also　at　many　singular　things；　at　the　accident　of　Phoebus's　presence　on　the　day　of　the　penance；　at　the　young　girl　with　whom　he　had　been。　　She　was　his　sister；　no　doubt。　An　unreasonable　explanation；　but　she　contented　herself　with　it；　because　she　needed　to　believe　that　Phoebus　still　loved　her；　and　loved　her　alone。　　Had　he　not　sworn　it　to　her？　　What　more　was　needed；　simple　and　credulous　as　she　was？　　And　then；　in　this　matter；　were　not　appearances　much　more　against　her　than　against　him？　　Accordingly；　she　waited。　　She　hoped。

Let　us　add　that　the　church；　that　vast　church；　which　surrounded　her　on　every　side；　which　guarded　her；　which　saved　her；　was　itself　a　sovereign　tranquillizer。　　The　solemn　lines　of　that　architecture；　the　religious　attitude　of　all　the　objects