by Corry Shores
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[Dumas. The Wolf-Leader (Le meneur de loups), entry directory]
[The following is summary. Boldface, underlining, bracketed commentary, and section subdivisions are my own. Proofreading is incomplete, so please forgive my mistakes. Text is copied from online sources (see bibliography below).]
Summary of
Alexandre Dumas
Le meneur de loups
The Wolf-Leader
16
“Une soubrette de grande dame”
“My Lady’s Lady”
(Image from archive.org)
Brief summary (collecting those below):
__(16.1)__ (Recall from section 15 that Thibault the sorcerer was whipped by Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond, who was riding swiftly to his meeting with his mistress Comtesse de Mont-Gobert. Thibault uses his pact with the devil to wish that he could be a noble for a day, upon which Raoul falls from his horse.) Thibault runs to the fallen Monsieur Raoul de Vauparfond, finding him lying unconscious. Remarkably, “this figure was not in the dress of a gentleman, but clothed like a peasant, and, what was more, the clothes he had on seemed to Thibault to be the same as he himself had been wearing only a moment before.” Moreover, he is surprised to see that he now is wearing the fine costume of a noble. Even his workman’s walking stick and staff weapon is now “a light whip, with which he gave a cut through the air, listening with a sense of aristocratic pleasure to the whistling sound it made.” He also has “a hunting-knife, half-sword, half-dagger.” He wants to see his face in the mirror, but must first get his key from the fallen person’s pocket. His hut is dark, and while trying to light his candle, which is merely, “an end stuck into an empty bottle,” he complains (like an arrogant nobleman) “ ‘Pah!’ he said, ‘what pigs these peasants are! I wonder how they can live in this dirty sort of way!’ ” When he could finally see himself in the mirror, “he uttered a cry of astonishment, it was no longer himself that he saw, or rather, although it was still Thibault in spirit, it was no longer Thibault in body. His spirit had entered into the body of a handsome young man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, with blue eyes, pink fresh cheeks, red lips, and white teeth; in short, it had entered into the body of the Baron Raoul de Vauparfond. Then Thibault re-called the wish that he had uttered in his moment of anger after the blow from the whip and his collision with the horse. His wish had been that for four and twenty hours he might be the Baron de Vauparfond, and the Baron de Vauparfond be Thibault, which now explained to him what had at first seemed inexplicable, why the unconscious man now lying in the road was dressed in his clothes and had his face.” He also realizes that the unconscious figure he left on the road is still his body. He gets it and puts it in his bed, locks the door, and hides the key in a tree hollow. __(16.2)__ Thibault is not normally an experienced rider, but he rides the horse well, because he gained some of the physical abilities of Raoul’s body. Thibault knows he is to ride to meet his mistress Comtesse de Mont-Gobert for their planned tryst, but he is not sure how it will all work, for instance how he will enter the castle; “it only remained for him to discover what to do, step by step, as he proceeded.” He then realizes he must have the letter she sent him (see section 15.1). Thibault stops to read it, but he needs a light. He asks a stable boy who first is annoyed to be awoken. Thibault, after realizing his new social power, threatens to whip the boy if he does not bring a light. The boy obeys. Thibault reads the letter, but it is cryptic and vague, particularly about where Thibault should go: “ ‘My dear Raoul, The goddess Venus has certainly taken us under her protection. A grand hunt of some kind is to take place to-morrow out in the direction of Thury; I know no particulars about it, all I do know is, that he is going away this evening. You, therefore, start at nine o’clock, so as to be here at half-past ten. Come in by the way you know; someone whom you know will be awaiting you, and will bring you, you know where. Last time you came, I don’t mean to upbraid you, but it did seem to me you stayed a long time in the corridors. Jane.” Thibault thinks it unwise to wake the Raoul in Thibault’s body, so he decides instead to trust the horse to recall the way: “He had heard a great deal about the wonderful sagacity of animals, and had himself, during his life in the country, had occasion more than once to admire their instinct, and he now determined to trust to that of his horse. Riding back into the main road, he turned the horse in the direction of Mont-Gobert, and let it have its head. The horse immediately started off at a gallop; it had evidently understood. Thibault troubled himself no further, it was now the horse’s affair to bring him safely to his destination.” When he reaches the corner of the park wall, the horse stops and is uneasy. Thibault thinks he sees two shadows, but he cannot find what made them. He thinks they might be poachers. Thibault then lets the horse continue discretely to where it knows to go. They come to a breach in the wall, which the horse climbs through, bringing them within the park. __(16.3)__ Now in the park, the horse takes him to a little hut a short distance from the castle. A girl comes out and greets him. She says to leave the horse, which will be in Cramoisi’s care, and she remarks that “we must make haste or Madame will complain again that we loiter in the corridors.” As she begins to lead Thibault to Madame Mont-Gobert, she stops, hearing someone walking on a branch. Thibault says it must be Cramoisi, and the girl notes he is her fiancé. She leads Thibault into the castle. When Thibault heads toward the great reception room, she stops him, noting that “That would give a fine opportunity to my lord the Count, truly!” As they take an alternate route, Thibault tries romancing the girl, saying “if my name this evening were Thibault instead of Raoul, I would carry you up with me to the garrets, instead of stopping on the first floor!” She hurries him up into a room at the top of the stairs.
[Thibault’s Transformation Into Raoul]
[Thibault’s Ride to the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert]
[Thibault’s Journey Into the Castle]
Summary
[Thibault’s Transformation Into Raoul]
[(Recall from section 15 that Thibault the sorcerer was whipped by Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond, who was riding swiftly to his meeting with his mistress Comtesse de Mont-Gobert. Thibault uses his pact with the devil to wish that he could be a noble for a day, upon which Raoul falls from his horse.) Thibault runs to the fallen Monsieur Raoul de Vauparfond, finding him lying unconscious. Remarkably, “this figure was not in the dress of a gentleman, but clothed like a peasant, and, what was more, the clothes he had on seemed to Thibault to be the same as he himself had been wearing only a moment before.” Moreover, he is surprised to see that he now is wearing the fine costume of a noble. Even his workman’s walking stick and staff weapon is now “a light whip, with which he gave a cut through the air, listening with a sense of aristocratic pleasure to the whistling sound it made.” He also has “a hunting-knife, half-sword, half-dagger.” He wants to see his face in the mirror, but must first get his key from the fallen person’s pocket. His hut is dark, and while trying to light his candle, which is merely, “an end stuck into an empty bottle,” he complains (like an arrogant nobleman) “ ‘Pah!’ he said, ‘what pigs these peasants are! I wonder how they can live in this dirty sort of way!’ ” When he could finally see himself in the mirror, “he uttered a cry of astonishment, it was no longer himself that he saw, or rather, although it was still Thibault in spirit, it was no longer Thibault in body. His spirit had entered into the body of a handsome young man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, with blue eyes, pink fresh cheeks, red lips, and white teeth; in short, it had entered into the body of the Baron Raoul de Vauparfond. Then Thibault re-called the wish that he had uttered in his moment of anger after the blow from the whip and his collision with the horse. His wish had been that for four and twenty hours he might be the Baron de Vauparfond, and the Baron de Vauparfond be Thibault, which now explained to him what had at first seemed inexplicable, why the unconscious man now lying in the road was dressed in his clothes and had his face.” He also realizes that the unconscious figure he left on the road is still his body. He gets it and puts it in his bed, locks the door, and hides the key in a tree hollow.]
[ditto]
En voyant l’accident qui venait d’arriver au jeune seigneur dont la main un peu légère l’avait, quelques secondes auparavant, gratifié du coup de cravache sous lequel frissonnaient encore ses épaules, Thibault, tout joyeux, prit ses jambes à son cou et courut pour voir l’état dans lequel se trouvait M. Raoul de Vauparfond.
Un corps privé de mouvement était étendu au beau travers du chemin, et le cheval renâclait tout à côté.
Mais, chose qui parut des plus extraordinaires à Thibault, c’est que le corps étendu au travers du chemin ne lui semblait plus être le même qui, cinq minutes auparavant, avait passé près de lui et lui avait cinglé un si violent coup de cravache.
D’abord, ce corps était vêtu, non plus en seigneur, mais en paysan.
En outre, il sembla à Thibault que les habits dont ce même corps était couvert étaient ceux que lui, Thibault, portait un instant auparavant.
Sa surprise alla croissant et monta jusqu’à la stupéfaction lorsqu’il aperçut que ce corps inerte, et qui paraissait complètement privé de sentiment, avait non seulement ses habits, mais encore son visage.
Dans son étonnement, Thibault reporta naturellement les yeux de ce second Thibault sur lui-même, et il remarqua qu’un changement notable s’était opéré dans son costume.
Ses jambes, au lieu de souliers et de guêtres, étaient chaussées d’une élégante paire de bottes à la française venant au genou, souples comme des bas de soie, plissées sur le cou-de-pied et ornées de fins éperons d’argent.
Sa culotte, au lieu d’être de velours à côtes, était du plus beau daim tanné qui se pût voir, serrée à la jarretière par de petites boucles d’or.
Sa redingote de gros drap de Louviers couleur olive avait fait place à un élégant habit de chasse vert, avec des brandebourgs d’or, s’ouvrant sur un fin gilet de piqué blanc, entre les revers duquel, sur une chemise artistement plissée, se jouaient les flots onduleux d’une cravate de batiste.
Il n’y avait pas jusqu’à son chapeau à lampion qui ne se fût transformé en un élégant tricorne bordé d’un galon pareil à ceux qui formaient brandebourgs sur sa redingote.
En outre, au lieu du bâton de longueur (c’est le terme sous lequel les ouvriers désignent leur canne de combat), au lieu du bâton de longueur qu’il tenait à la main tout à l’heure encore, moitié comme appui, moitié comme défense, il secouait maintenant une légère cravache au sifflement de laquelle il prenait un aristocratique plaisir.
Enfin, sa taille fine était serrée par un ceinturon auquel pendait un long couteau de chasse, moitié sabre droit, moitié épée.
Thibault fut tout joyeux de se sentir enfermé dans un si charmant costume, et, par un mouvement de coquetterie bien naturel en pareille circonstance, il fut pris du désir immédiat de voir comment ce costume allait à l’air de son visage.
Mais où Thibault pourrait-il se contempler, au milieu des ténèbres de cette nuit noire comme l’intérieur d’un four ?
Il regarda autour de lui et reconnut qu’il était à dix pas à peine de sa cabane.
– Ah ! parbleu ! dit-il, rien de plus simple. N’ai-je donc point ma glace ?
Et Thibault s’élança vers sa cabane, ayant, comme Narcisse, l’intention de savourer tout à son aise sa propre beauté.
Mais la porte de la cabane était fermée.
Thibault en chercha inutilement la clef.
Il n’avait dans ses poches qu’une bourse bien garnie, un drageoir garni de pastilles ambrées et un petit canif à manche de nacre et d’or.
Que pouvait-il donc avoir fait de la clef de sa porte ?
Une idée lumineuse lui passa par l’esprit : c’est que sa clef pourrait bien être dans la poche de l’autre Thibault qui était resté étendu sur la route.
Il y retourna, fouilla dans la poche de la culotte, et du premier coup retrouva cette clef mêlée à quelques gros sous.
Il prit du bout des doigts le grossier instrument et revint ouvrir la porte.
Seulement, il faisait encore plus nuit dans la cabane que dehors. Thibault chercha à tâtons le briquet, la pierre, l’amadou, les allumettes, et se mit à battre le briquet.
Au bout de quelques secondes, un bout de chandelle, fiché dans une bouteille vide, était allumé. Mais l’allumeur ne put accomplir cette opération sans toucher la chandelle avec ses doigts.
– Pouah ! dit-il, quels porcs que ces paysans ! et comment peuvent-ils vivre dans de pareilles saletés !
La chandelle était allumée ; c’était le principal.
Thibault décrocha la glace du mur, s’approcha de la chandelle et se regarda.
Mais à peine son regard eut-il plongé dans le réflecteur, qu’il poussa un cri de surprise.
Ce n’était pas lui, ou plutôt, c’était toujours son esprit, mais ce n’était plus son corps.
Le corps dans lequel son esprit était entré était celui d’un beau jeune homme de vingt-cinq à vingt-six ans, aux yeux bleus, aux joues roses et fraîches, aux lèvres de pourpre, aux dents blanches.
Ce corps enfin était celui du baron Raoul de Vauparfond.
Thibault se rappela alors le vœu que le coup de cravache et le choc du cheval lui avaient fait formuler dans un moment de colère.
Il avait, pour vingt-quatre heures, désiré être le baron de Vauparfond et que le baron de Vauparfond fût Thibault pour le même espace de temps.
Cela lui expliquait ce qui, au premier abord, lui avait paru inexplicable, c’est-à-dire que ce corps évanoui, qui était couché en travers de la route, fût vêtu de ses habits et orné de son visage.
– Peste ! dit-il, faisons attention à une chose ; c’est que j’ai l’air d’être ici, mais qu’en réalité je ne suis pas ici, mais là-bas. Prenons garde que, pendant les vingt-quatre heures où j’ai l’imprudence de me quitter, il ne m’arrive quelque irréparable malheur. Allons, allons, pas tant de répugnance, monsieur de Vauparfond ; transportons ici le pauvre Thibault et couchons-le moelleusement sur son lit.
Et, en effet, quoique dans ses sentiments aristocratiques, M. de Vauparfond répugnât à ce petit travail, Thibault se prit bravement entre ses bras et se transporta de la route sur son lit.
Bien posé sur ce lit, Thibault souffla sa lampe, de peur que, dans son évanouissement, il n’arrivât malheur à cet autre lui-même : puis, refermant la porte avec soin, il en cacha la clef dans le creux d’un arbre où il avait coutume de la mettre quand il ne voulait point la transporter avec lui.
(212-216)
THIBAULT was delighted at seeing what had happened to the young Baron, whose hand, anything but light, had so shortly before made use of his whip on Thibault’s shoulders, which still smarted with the blow. The latter now ran at full speed to see how far Monsieur Raoul de Vauparfond was injured; he found a body lying insensible, stretched across the road, with the horse standing and snorting beside it.
But Thibault could hardly believe his senses on perceiving that the figure lying in the road was not the same as had, but five minutes previously, ridden past him and given him the lash with the whip. In the first place, this figure was not in the dress of a gentleman, but clothed like a peasant, and, what was more, the clothes he had on seemed to Thibault to be the same as he himself had been wearing only a moment before. His surprise increased more and more and amounted almost to stupefaction on further recognising, in the inert, unconscious figure, not only his own clothes, but his own face. His astonishment naturally led him to turn his eyes from this second Thibault to his own person, when he became aware that an equally remarkable change had come over his costume. Instead of shoes and gaiters, his legs were now encased in an elegant pair of hunting boots, reaching to the knee, as soft and smooth as a pair of silk stockings, with a roll over the instep, and finished off with a pair of fine silver spurs. The knee-breeches were no longer of corduroy, but of the most beautiful buckskin, fastened with little gold buckles. His long coarse olive-coloured coat was replaced by a handsome green hunting-coat, with gold lace facings, thrown open to display a waistcoat of fine white jean, while over the artistically pleated shirt hung the soft wavy folds of a cambric cravat. Not a single article of dress about him but had been transformed, even to his old lantern-shaped hat, which was now a three-cornered one, trimmed with gold lace to match the coat. The stick also, such as workmen carry partly for walking and partly for self-defence, and which he had been holding in his hand a minute before, had now given place to a light whip, with which he gave a cut through the air, listening with a sense of aristocratic pleasure to the whistling sound it made. And finally, his slender figure was drawn in at the waist by a belt, from which hung a hunting-knife, half-sword, half-dagger.
Thibault was pleased beyond measure at finding himself clothed in such a delightful costume, and with a feeling of vanity, natural under the circumstances, he was overcome with the desire to ascertain without delay how the dress suited his face. But where could he go to look at himself, out there in the midst of pitch darkness? Then, looking about him, he saw that he was only a stone’s throw from his own hut.
“Ah! to be sure!” he said, “nothing easier, for I have my glass there.”
And he made haste towards his hut, intending, like Narcissus, to enjoy his own beauty in peace and all to himself. But the door of the hut was locked, and Thibault felt vainly for the key. All he could find in his pockets was a well-filled purse, a sweet-meat box containing scented lozenges, and a little mother-of-pearl and gold penknife. What could he have done then with his door-key? Then suddenly a bright thought occurred to him—possibly the key was in the pocket of that other Thibault who was lying out there in the road. He went back and felt in the breeches pocket, where he discovered the key at once, in company with a few sous. Holding the rough clumsy thing in the tips of his fingers, he returned to open the door. The inside of the hut was even darker that the night outside, and Thibault groped about to find the steel, the tinder and flint, and the matches, and then proceeded to try and light the candle, which consisted of an end stuck into an empty bottle. In a second or two this was accomplished, but in the course of the operation Thibault was obliged to take hold of the candle with his fingers.
“Pah!” he said, “what pigs these peasants are! I wonder how they can live in this dirty sort of way!”
However, the candle was alight, which was the chief matter, and Thibault now took down his mirror, and bringing it to the light, looked at himself in it. His eye had scarcely caught sight of the reflected image, than he uttered a cry of astonishment, it was no longer himself that he saw, or rather, although it was still Thibault in spirit, it was no longer Thibault in body. His spirit had entered into the body of a handsome young man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, with blue eyes, pink fresh cheeks, red lips, and white teeth; in short, it had entered into the body of the Baron Raoul de Vauparfond. Then Thibault re-called the wish that he had uttered in his moment of anger after the blow from the whip and his collision with the horse. His wish had been that for four and twenty hours he might be the Baron de Vauparfond, and the Baron de Vauparfond be Thibault, which now explained to him what had at first seemed inexplicable, why the unconscious man now lying in the road was dressed in his clothes and had his face.
“But I must not forget one thing,” he said, “that is, that although I seem to be here, I am not really here, but lying out there, so I must be careful to see that during the twenty-four hours, during which I shall be imprudent enough to be away from myself, no irreparable harm comes to me. Come now, Monsieur de Vauparfond, do not be so fastidious; carry the poor man in, and lay him gently on his bed here.” And, although with his aristocratic instincts Monsieur de Vauparfond found the task very repugnant to him, Thibault, nevertheless, courageously took up his own body in his arms and carried himself from the road to the bed. Having thus placed the body in safety, he blew out the light, for fear that any harm should come to this other self before he came to; then, carefully locking the door, he hid the key in the hollow of a tree, where he was in the habit of leaving it when not wishing to take it with him.
(80-81)
[Thibault’s Ride to the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert]
[Thibault is not normally an experienced rider, but he rides the horse well, because he gained some of the physical abilities of Raoul’s body. Thibault knows he is to ride to meet his mistress Comtesse de Mont-Gobert for their planned tryst, but he is not sure how it will all work, for instance how he will enter the castle; “it only remained for him to discover what to do, step by step, as he proceeded.” He then realizes he must have the letter she sent him (see section 15.1). Thibault stops to read it, but he needs a light. He asks a stable boy who first is annoyed to be awoken. Thibault, after realizing his new social power, threatens to whip the boy if he does not bring a light. The boy obeys. Thibault reads the letter, but it is cryptic and vague, particularly about where Thibault should go: “ ‘My dear Raoul, The goddess Venus has certainly taken us under her protection. A grand hunt of some kind is to take place to-morrow out in the direction of Thury; I know no particulars about it, all I do know is, that he is going away this evening. You, therefore, start at nine o’clock, so as to be here at half-past ten. Come in by the way you know; someone whom you know will be awaiting you, and will bring you, you know where. Last time you came, I don’t mean to upbraid you, but it did seem to me you stayed a long time in the corridors. Jane.” Thibault thinks it unwise to wake the Raoul in Thibault’s body, so he decides instead to trust the horse to recall the way: “He had heard a great deal about the wonderful sagacity of animals, and had himself, during his life in the country, had occasion more than once to admire their instinct, and he now determined to trust to that of his horse. Riding back into the main road, he turned the horse in the direction of Mont-Gobert, and let it have its head. The horse immediately started off at a gallop; it had evidently understood. Thibault troubled himself no further, it was now the horse’s affair to bring him safely to his destination.” When he reaches the corner of the park wall, the horse stops and is uneasy. Thibault thinks he sees two shadows, but he cannot find what made them. He thinks they might be poachers. Thibault then lets the horse continue discretely to where it knows to go. They come to a breach in the wall, which the horse climbs through, bringing them within the park.]
[ditto]
Après quoi, il attrapa son cheval par la bride et monta dessus. Le premier moment fut à l’inquiétude.
Thibault, qui avait beaucoup plus voyagé à pied qu’à cheval, n’était point un écuyer consommé.
Il craignait donc de ne point conserver bien exactement son centre de gravité au milieu des mouvements qu’allait exécuter sa monture.
Mais il paraît qu’en héritant le corps de Raoul, il avait en même temps hérité ses qualités physiques, car le cheval ayant voulu, en bête intelligente qu’il était, profiter de l’inhabileté momentanée de son cavalier pour le désarçonner, Thibault, instinctivement rassembla les rênes, serra les genoux, mit les éperons au ventre de sa monture, et lui sangla deux ou trois coups de cravache qui la rappelèrent incontinent à l’ordre.
Thibault, sans s’en douter, était passé maître en équitation.
Cette victoire qu’il venait de remporter sur son cheval l’aida à se rendre compte à lui-même de sa dualité.
Pour le corps, il était des pieds à la tête le baron Raoul de Vauparfond.
Pour l’esprit, il était resté Thibault.
Il était évident que, dans le corps du Thibault évanoui qui était demeuré dans sa cabane, dormait l’esprit du jeune seigneur qui lui prêtait son corps.
Mais cette division qui logeait son esprit dans le corps du baron, et l’esprit du baron dans le corps de Thibault, ne lui laissait qu’une assez vague appréciation de ce qu’il allait avoir à faire.
Il savait bien qu’il allait à Mont-Gobert sur une lettre de la comtesse.
Mais que disait cette lettre ?
À quelle heure était-il attendu ?
Comment pénétrerait-il dans le château ?
C’est ce qu’il ignorait complètement, et, par conséquent, ce qui lui restait à apprendre de point en point.
Alors Thibault eut une idée.
C’est qu’il avait sans doute sur lui la lettre écrite par la comtesse à Raoul.
Il se tâta de tous les côtés, et, en effet, il sentit dans la poche de côté de son habit quelque chose qui semblait avoir la forme de l’objet qu’il cherchait.
Il arrêta son cheval.
Il fouilla dans sa poche, en tira un petit portefeuille de cuir parfumé doublé de satin blanc.
Dans un des côtés de ce petit portefeuille étaient plusieurs lettres, dans l’autre une seule.
C’était cette dernière qui probablement allait lui apprendre ce qu’il ignorait.
Il s’agissait seulement de la lire.
Thibault était à trois ou quatre cents pas seulement du village de Fleury.
Il mit son cheval au galop, espérant trouver encore quelque maison éclairée.
Mais on se couche de bonne heure au village, et, dans ce temps-là, on se couchait plus tôt encore qu’aujourd’hui.
Thibault alla d’un bout à l’autre de la rue sans voir une seule lumière.
Enfin, il lui sembla entendre quelque bruit dans l’écurie d’une auberge.
Il appela.
Un valet vint avec une lanterne.
– Mon ami, lui dit Thibault oubliant qu’il était momentanément un grand seigneur, vous plairait-il de m’éclairer un instant ? Vous me rendriez service.
– C’est pour cela que vous me faites sortir de mon lit, vous ?… répondit grossièrement le garçon d’écurie. Eh bien, vous êtes bon enfant encore !
Et, tournant le dos à Thibault, il s’apprêta à rentrer.
Thibault vit qu’il avait fait fausse route.
– Voyons, drôle, dit-il en élevant la voix, approche ta lanterne et éclaire-moi, ou je te donne vingt-cinq coups de cravache !
– Oh ! excusez-moi, monseigneur, dit le valet d’écurie, je ne savais pas à qui je parlais.
Et il se dressa sur la pointe des pieds pour mettre sa lanterne au point où Thibault en avait besoin.
Thibault déplia la lettre et lut :
» Décidément, la déesse Vénus nous tient sous sa protection. Je ne sais quelle grande chasse se projette demain du côté de Thury, mais ce que je sais, c’est qu’il part ce soir.
» Partez vous-même à neuf heures, pour être ici à dix et demie.
» Entrez par où vous savez, vous serez attendu par qui vous savez et conduit où vous savez.
» Il m’a semblé, sans reproche, qu’à votre dernière visite, vous vous étiez arrêté bien longtemps dans les corridors.
« Jane. »
– Ah ! diable ! fit Thibault.
– Plaît-il, monseigneur ? dit le valet d’écurie.
– Rien, manant, sinon que je n’ai plus besoin de toi et que tu peux te retirer.
– Bon voyage, monseigneur ! dit le garçon d’écurie en saluant jusqu’à terre.
Et il rentra.
– Diable ! répéta Thibault, la lettre ne m’apprend pas grand-chose, sinon qu’il paraît que nous sommes sous la protection de la déesse Vénus, qu’il part ce soir pour Thury, que je suis attendu par la comtesse de Mont-Gobert à dix heures et demie, et que de son petit nom la comtesse s’appelle Jane. Maintenant, quant au reste, j’entre par où je sais ; je serai reçu par qui je sais, qui me conduira où je sais.
Thibault se gratta l’oreille ; ce qui, dans tous les pays du monde, est le geste des gens plongés dans un grand embarras.
Il eut envie d’aller réveiller l’esprit du seigneur de Vauparfond, qui dormait sur son lit dans le corps de Thibault.
Mais, outre que c’était bien du temps perdu, ce moyen extrême avait ses inconvénients.
L’esprit du baron Raoul, en voyant son corps si près de lui, pouvait être pris du désir d’y rentrer.
De là une lutte dans laquelle Thibault ne pouvait se défendre qu’en risquant de se faire grand mal à lui-même.
Il fallait trouver un autre moyen.
Thibault avait souvent entendu vanter la sagacité des animaux, et dans sa vie champêtre avait plus d’une fois eu l’occasion d’admirer leur instinct.
Il résolut de s’en rapporter à celui de son cheval.
Il le ramena dans son chemin, lui tourna la tête du côté de Mont-Gobert et lui lâcha les rênes.
Le cheval partit au galop.
Il était évident qu’il avait compris.
Thibault ne s’inquiéta plus de rien ; le reste était l’affaire de son cheval.
Arrivé au coin du mur du parc, l’animal s’arrêta, non point qu’il parût hésiter sur la route qu’il avait à suivre, mais il dressait les oreilles et paraissait inquiet.
Il avait semblé à Thibault, de son côté, voir deux ombres ; mais, en effet, c’étaient sans doute deux ombres, car il eut beau se dresser sur ses étriers afin de se grandir, et regarder tout autour de lui, il ne vit absolument rien.
Il pensa que c’étaient des braconniers qui cherchaient à s’introduire dans le parc pour lui faire concurrence.
Du moment où personne ne lui disputait la route, il n’avait plus qu’à rendre à sa monture son libre arbitre.
C’est ce qu’il fit en lui lâchant de nouveau les rênes.
Le cheval suivit au grand trot les murs du parc, marchant dans la terre labourée et se gardant de hennir, comme s’il eût deviné, l’intelligent animal, qu’il ne devait faire aucun bruit, ou plutôt le moins de bruit possible.
Il parcourut ainsi toute une face du mur du parc, puis tourna avec ce mur, et s’arrêta devant une petite brèche.
– Bon ! dit Thibault, c’est sans doute par ici que nous allons passer.
Le cheval flaira la brèche et gratta du pied la terre.
C’était répondre catégoriquement. Thibault lui lâcha la bride, et, au milieu des pierres roulant sous ses pieds, l’animal parvint à escalader la brèche.
(216-221)
The next thing to do was to get hold of the horse’s bridle and mount into the saddle. Once there, Thibault had a preliminary moment of some uneasiness, for, having travelled more on foot than on horseback, he was not an accomplished rider, and he naturally feared that he might not be able to keep his seat when the horse began to move. But it seemed, that, while inheriting Raoul’s body, he also inherited his physical qualities, for the horse, being an intelligent beast, and perfectly conscious of the momentary want of assurance on the part of his rider, made an effort to throw him, whereupon Thibault instinctively gathered up the reins, pressed his knees against the horse’s sides, dug his spurs into them, and gave the animal two or three cuts of the whip, which brought it to order on the spot.
Thibault, perfectly unknown to himself, was a past master in horsemanship. This little affair with the horse enabled Thibault more fully to realise his duality. As far as the body was concerned, he was the Baron Raoul de Vauparfond from top to toe; but as far as the spirit was concerned, he was still Thibault. It was, therefore, certain that the spirit of the young lord who had lent him his body was now sleeping in the form of the unconscious Thibault which he had left behind in the hut.
The division of substance and spirit between himself and the Baron, however, left him with a very vague idea of what he was going, or would have, to do. That he was going to Mont-Gobert in answer to the Countess’s letter, so much he knew. But what was in the letter? At what hour was he expected? How was he to gain admission to the Castle? Not one of these questions could he answer, and it only remained for him to discover what to do, step by step, as he proceeded. Suddenly it flashed across him that probably the Countess’s letter was somewhere on his person. He felt about his dress, and, sure enough, inside the side pocket of his coat was something, which by its shape, seemed to be the article he wanted. He stopped his horse, and putting his hand into his pocket, drew out a little scented leather case lined with white satin. In one side of the case were several letters, in the other only one; no doubt the latter would tell him what he wanted to know, if he could once get to read it. He was now only a short distance from the village of Fleury, and he galloped on hoping that he might find a house still lighted up. But villagers go to bed early, in those days even earlier than they do now, and Thibault went from one end of the street to the other without seeing a single light. At last, thinking he heard some kind of movement in the stables of an Inn, he called. A stable boy sallied out with a lantern, and Thibault, forgetting for the moment that he was a lord, said: “Friend, could you show me a light for a moment? You would be doing me a service.”
“And that’s what you go and call a chap out of bed for?”—answered the stable-boy rudely. “Well, you are a nice sort of young’un, you are!” and turning his back on Thibault he was just going to re-enter the stable, when Thibault, perceiving that he had gone on a wrong tack, now raised his voice, calling out:
“Look here, sirrah, bring your lantern here and give me a light, or I’ll lay my whip across your back!”
“Ah! pardon, my lord!” said the stable-boy. “I did not see who it was I was speaking to.” And he immediately stood on tip-toe holding the lantern up as Thibault directed him:
Thibault unfolded the letter and read:
“My dear Raoul,
“The goddess Venus has certainly taken us under her protection. A grand hunt of some kind is to take place to-morrow out in the direction of Thury; I know no particulars about it, all I do know is, that he is going away this evening. You, therefore, start at nine o’clock, so as to be here at half-past ten. Come in by the way you know; someone whom you know will be awaiting you, and will bring you, you know where. Last time you came, I don’t mean to upbraid you, but it did seem to me you stayed a long time in the corridors.
“Jane.”
“Devil take it!” muttered Thibault.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?” said the stable-boy.
“Nothing, you lout, except that I do not require you any longer and you can go.”
“A good journey to you, my lord!” said the stable-boy, bowing to the ground, and he went back to his stable.
“Devil take it!” repeated Thibault, “the letter gives me precious little information, except that we are under the protection of the Goddess Venus, that he goes away this evening, that the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert expects me at half-past ten, and that her Christian name is Jane. As for the rest, I am to go in by the way I know, I shall be awaited by someone I know, and taken where I know.” Thibault scratched his ear, which is what everybody does, in every country of the world, when plunged into awkward circumstances. He longed to go and wake up the Lord of Vauparfond’s spirit, which was just now sleeping in Thibault’s body on Thibault’s bed; but, apart from the loss of time which this would involve, it might also cause considerable inconvenience, for the Baron’s spirit, on seeing its own body so near to it, might be taken with the desire of re-entering it. This would give rise to a struggle in which Thibault could not well defend himself without doing serious harm to his own person; some other way out of the difficulty must therefore be found. He had heard a great deal about the wonderful sagacity of animals, and had himself, during his life in the country, had occasion more than once to admire their instinct, and he now determined to trust to that of his horse. Riding back into the main road, he turned the horse in the direction of Mont-Gobert, and let it have its head. The horse immediately started off at a gallop; it had evidently understood. Thibault troubled himself no further, it was now the horse’s affair to bring him safely to his destination. On reaching the corner of the park wall the animal stopped, not apparently because it was in doubt as to which road to take, but something seemed to make it uneasy, and it pricked its ears. At the same time, Thibault also fancied that he caught sight of two shadows; but they must have been only shadows, for although he stood up in his stirrups and looked all around him, he could see absolutely nothing. They were probably poachers he thought, who had reasons like himself for wishing to get inside the park. There being no longer anything to bar his passage, he had only, as before, to let the horse go its own way, and he accordingly did so. The horse followed the walls of the park at a quick trot, carefully choosing the soft edge of the road, and not uttering a single neigh; the intelligent animal seemed as if it knew that it must make no sound or at least as little sound as possible.
In this way, they went along the whole of one side of the park, and on reaching the corner, the horse turned as the wall turned, and stopped before a small breach in the same. “It’s through here, evidently,” said Thibault, “that we have to go.”
The horse answered by sniffing at the breach, and scraping the ground with its foot; Thibault gave the animal the rein, and it managed to climb up and through the breach, over the loose stones which rolled away beneath its hoof.
(81-83)
[Thibault’s Journey Into the Castle]
[Now in the park, the horse takes him to a little hut a short distance from the castle. A girl comes out and greets him. She says to leave the horse, which will be in Cramoisi’s care, and she remarks that “we must make haste or Madame will complain again that we loiter in the corridors.” As she begins to lead Thibault to Madame Mont-Gobert, she stops, hearing someone walking on a branch. Thibault says it must be Cramoisi, and the girl notes he is her fiancé. She leads Thibault into the castle. When Thibault heads toward the great reception room, she stops him, noting that “That would give a fine opportunity to my lord the Count, truly!” As they take an alternate route, Thibault tries romancing the girl, saying “if my name this evening were Thibault instead of Raoul, I would carry you up with me to the garrets, instead of stopping on the first floor!” She hurries him up into a room at the top of the stairs.]
[ditto]
Cheval et cavalier étaient dans le parc.
Il y avait déjà une des trois choses embarrassantes heureusement accomplie. Thibault était passé par où il savait.
Restait à trouver la personne qu’il savait.
Il s’en rapporta encore à son cheval pour cela.
Au bout de cinq minutes, le cheval s’arrêtait à cent pas du château, devant la porte d’une de ces petites chaumières en terre glaise et en bois grume que l’on établit dans les parcs pour faire ce que l’on appelle, en termes de peinture, fabrique dans le paysage.
Au bruit des pas du cheval, la porte s’était entrouverte et le cheval s’arrêtait à cette porte.
Une gentille chambrière sortit.
– C’est vous, monsieur Raoul ? dit-elle à voix basse.
– Oui, mon enfant, c’est moi, répondit Thibault en mettant pied à terre.
– Madame avait grand-peur que cet ivrogne de Champagne ne vous eût pas remis sa lettre.
– Elle avait tort ; Champagne a été d’une exactitude exemplaire.
– Allons ! laissez là votre cheval et venez.
– Mais qui va en avoir soin ?
– Celui qui en a soin d’habitude, maître Cramoisi.
– C’est juste, dit Thibault comme si ces détails lui étaient familiers, Cramoisi en aura soin.
– Allons, allons, répéta la suivante, dépêchons-nous, ou madame dirait encore que nous nous sommes arrêtés dans les corridors.
Et, en disant ces mots, qui rappelaient à Thibault une phrase de la lettre adressée à Raoul, la chambrière riait, et, en riant, montrait des dents blanches comme des perles.
Thibault eut bien envie cette fois de s’arrêter, non dans les corridors, mais dans le parc. Mais la chambrière resta suspendue sur un pied et l’oreille au vent.
– Qu’y a-t-il ? lui demanda Thibault.
– Il me semble que j’ai entendu crier une branche sous le pied de quelqu’un.
– Bon ! dit Thibault, c’est sous le pied de Cramoisi.
– Raison de plus pour que vous soyez sage, monsieur Raoul… ici du moins.
– Je ne comprends pas.
– Est-ce que Cramoisi n’est pas mon fiancé ? Voyons !
– Ah ! si fait ! mais, toutes les fois que je me trouve seul avec toi, ma petite Rose, je ne m’en souviens plus.
– Voilà que je m’appelle Rose, à présent ! Monsieur le baron, je n’ai jamais vu d’homme plus oublieux que vous.
– Je t’appelle Rose, ma belle enfant, parce que la rose est la reine des fleurs, comme tu es, toi, la reine des soubrettes.
– En vérité, monsieur le baron, dit la chambrière, je vous trouve toujours de l’esprit, mais je vous en trouve encore plus ce soir que les autres jours.
Thibault se rengorgea.
C’était une lettre à l’adresse du baron et qui était décachetée par le sabotier.
– Pourvu que ta maîtresse soit de ton avis, dit-il.
– Oh ! avec les grandes dames, dit la soubrette, il y a toujours moyen d’être l’homme le plus spirituel du monde : c’est de ne point parler.
– Bon ! dit-il, je me souviendrai de la recette.
– Chut ! dit la chambrière à Thibault ; voyez-vous là madame la comtesse, derrière le rideau de son cabinet de toilette ? Allons ! suivez-moi bien modestement.
En effet, il s’agissait de traverser un espace vide qui se trouvait entre les massifs du parc et le perron du château. Thibault s’avançait vers le perron.
– Eh bien, lui dit la soubrette en l’arrêtant par le bras, que faites-vous donc, malheureux ?
– Ce que je fais ? Ma foi, je t’avoue, Suzette, que je n’en sais rien.
– Bon ! voilà que je m’appelle Suzette, à présent ! Monsieur le baron me fait l’honneur, je crois, de me donner le nom de toutes ses maîtresses. Mais venez donc par ici !… N’allez-vous point passer par les grands appartements ? Fi donc ! c’est bon pour monsieur le comte.
Et la femme de chambre entraîna, en effet, Thibault par une petite porte à la droite de laquelle on trouva un escalier tournant.
Arrivé au milieu de l’escalier, Thibault enveloppa de son bras la taille de la suivante, souple comme le corps d’une couleuvre.
– Ne sommes-nous pas aux corridors ? demanda-t-il en cherchant des lèvres les joues de la belle fille.
– Pas encore, répondit-elle ; mais cela ne fait rien.
– Ma foi ! dit-il, si je m’appelais ce soir Thibault, au lieu de m’appeler Raoul, je te jure, ma chère Marton, que je monterais jusqu’aux mansardes au lieu de m’arrêter au premier.
On entendait le grincement d’une porte qui s’ouvrait.
– Eh ! vite, vite, monsieur le baron ! dit la soubrette, c’est madame qui s’impatiente.
Et, tirant Thibault après elle, elle atteignit le corridor, ouvrit une porte, poussa Thibault dans une chambre, et referma la porte derrière lui, croyant fermement l’avoir refermée sur le baron Raoul de Vauparfond, c’est-à-dire, comme elle le disait, sur l’homme le plus oublieux de la terre.
(221-224)
Horse and rider were now within the park. One of the three difficulties had been successfully overcome: Thibault had got in by the way he knew; it now remained to find the person whom he knew, and he thought it wisest to leave this also to his horse. The horse went on for another five minutes, and then stopped at a short distance from the Castle, before the door of one of those little huts of rough logs and bark and clay, which are built up in parks, as painters introduce buildings into their landscapes, solely for the sake of ornament.
On hearing the horse’s hoofs, someone partly opened the door, and the horse stopped in front of it.
A pretty girl came out, and asked in a low voice, “Is it you, Monsieur Raoul?”
“Yes, my child, it is I,” answered Thibault, dismounting.
“Madame was terribly afraid that drunken fool of a Champagne might not have given you the letter.”
“She need not have been afraid; Champagne brought it me with the most exemplary punctuality.”
“Leave your horse then and come.”
“But who will look after it?”
“Why Cramoisi, of course, the man who always does.”
“Ah, yes, to be sure,” said Thibault, as if these details were familiar to him, “Cramoisi will look after it.”
“Come, come,” said the maid, “we must make haste or Madame will complain again that we loiter in the corridors.” And as she spoke these words, which recalled a phrase in the letter which had been written to Raoul, she laughed, and showed a row of pearly white teeth, and Thibault felt that he should like to loiter in the park, before waiting to get into the corridors.
Then the maid suddenly stood still a moment with her head bent, listening.
“What is it?” asked Thibault.
“I thought I heard the sound of a branch creaking under somebody’s foot.”
“Very likely,” said Thibault, “no doubt Cramoisi’s foot.”
“All the more reason that you should be careful what you do ... at all events out here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you not know that Cramoisi is the man I am engaged to?”
“Ah! to be sure! But when I am alone with you, my dear Rose, I always forget that.”
“I am called Rose now, am I! I never knew such a forgetful man as you are, Monsieur Raoul.”
“I call you Rose, my pretty one, because the rose is the queen of flowers, as you are the queen of waiting-maids.”
“In good truth, my Lord,” said the maid, “I have always found you a lively, witty gentleman, but you surpass yourself this evening.”
Thibault drew himself up, flattered by this remark—really a letter addressed to the Baron, but which it had fallen to the shoe-maker to unseal.
“Let us hope your mistress will think the same!” he said.
“As to that,” said the waiting maid, “any man can make one of these ladies of fashion think him the cleverest and wittiest in the world, simply by holding his tongue.”
“Thank you,” he said, “I will remember what you say.”
“Hush!” said the woman to Thibault, “there is Madame behind the dressing-room curtains; follow me now staidly.”
For they had now to cross an open space that lay between the wooded part of the park and the flight of steps leading up to the Castle. Thibault began walking towards the latter.
“Now, now,” said the maid, catching hold of him by the arm, “what are you doing, you foolish man?”
“What am I doing? well, I confess Suzette, I don’t know in the least what I am doing!”
“Suzette! so that’s my name now, is it? I think Monsieur does me the honour of calling me in turn by the name of all his mistresses. But come, this way! You are not dreaming I suppose of going through the great reception rooms. That would give a fine opportunity to my lord the Count, truly!”
And the maid hurried Thibault towards a little door, to the right of which was a spiral staircase.
Half-way up, Thibault put his arm round his companion’s waist, which was as slender and supple as a snake.
“I think we must be in the corridors, now, eh?” he asked, trying to kiss the young woman’s pretty cheek.
“No, not yet,” she answered; “but never mind that.”
“By my faith,” he said, “if my name this evening were Thibault instead of Raoul, I would carry you up with me to the garrets, instead of stopping on the first floor!”
At that moment a door was heard grating on its hinges.
“Quick, quick, Monsieur!” said the maid, “Madame is growing impatient.”
And drawing Thibault after her, she ran up the remaining stairs to the corridor, opened a door, pushed Thibault into a room, and shut the door after him, firmly believing that it was the Baron Raoul de Vauparfond or, as she herself called him, the most forgetful man in the world, whom she had thus secured.
(83-84)
Dumas, Alexandre. 1868. Le meneur de loups. (Nouvelle édition). Paris: Lévy.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/det ails/bub_gb_BhlMAAAAMAAJ/page/n5
and:
https://beq.ebooksgratuits.com/vents/Dumas-meneur.pdf
Online text at:
https://fr.wikisource.org/wik i/Le_Meneur_de_loups
and
https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Dumas_- _Le_Meneur_de_loups_(1868).djvu
Dumas, Alexandre. 1921. The Wolf-Leader. Translated by Alfred Allinson. London: Methuen.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/details/wolfle ader00duma
or:
https://archive.org/details/wo lfleader00dumauoft
Online text at:
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