by Corry Shores
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[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
17
“Le baron de Mont-Gobert”
“The Baron De Mont-Gobert”
Brief summary (collecting those below):
__(17.1)__ (Recall from section 16 that Thibault the sorcerer has taken up the body of Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond and he is sneaking into a room with his illicit lover the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert.) The room he enters is lavishly furnished and adorned, and Thibault is deeply impressed, even wondering “Were there really men and women in the world, so blessed by fortune as to live in such surroundings as these? Had he not been carried to some wizard’s castle [le château de quelque génie], to some fairy’s palace [le palais de quelque fée]? And those who enjoyed such favour as this, what special good had they done? what special evil had they done [fait de mal], who were deprived of these advantages?” The beautiful and richly adorned Countess appears. Thibault falls to his knees before her. She thinks this is fitting given his crimes, that is, for him “having the blackest soul and the falsest heart ever hidden beneath such a gay and golden exterior. Now, get up, and come and give an account of yourself to me.” He gets up and kisses her hand. She asks what he has done since their last meeting five days ago. In their conversation where Thibault must do a lot of guessing and playing along, we learn that the Countess suspects him of romancing the girl Lisette who helps him to her room in secret, and this is what was meant by her anger over his loitering in the corridors (see section 16.2 and 16.3). She asks, “Where had you been the other night, when you were met on the road between Erneville and Villers-Cotterets?” Thibault says he was fishing at the drawing the Berval ponds and afterward dining with the Baron at Vez. She then forgives him for all this. Thibault asks if he committed an even blacker crime. She says yes, yesterday at the Duke of Orleans’ ball where Thibault “danced four times with Madame de Bonneuil.” Thibault, in trying to win over the Countess, falls to his knees before her. __(17.2)__ Just then, Lisette rushed alarmed into the room. She says urgently that Thibault (Raoul) must save himself, because the count is coming with his huntsman Lestocq. The Countess thinks that she has been set-up by her husband to catch her with her illicit lover. Thibault suggests they kill the Count. The Countess instead says he should run. Lisette takes Thibault away just before someone comes to the room. She navigates him through a series of backways until he finally exits through a window. He jumps on his horse, but instead of taking Thibault away, it collapses. Thibault realizes that the Count hamstrung it to prevent his escape. “Thibault uttered an oath: ‘If I ever meet you, Monsieur Comte de Mont-Gobert,’ he said, ‘I swear that I will hamstring you, as you have hamstrung this poor beast!’” Thibault tries to escape on foot through the breach in the wall he originally came through (see section 16.2). But as he exits, he faces the Count, who is ready for him with his sword. The Count calls for him to draw his sword to fight, but Thibault draws his hunting-knife instead (see section 16.1). They fight. Thibault fights with the great skill of Raoul’s body. They continue until Thibault finally cuts into the Count’s shoulder, causing him to drop his sword and fall to the ground, crying for help from Lestocq. Thibault, who vowed to hamstring the Count, does so, but this gives Lestocq the opportunity to put Thibault’s hunting-knife through his chest from behind. “Then he saw a cloud of blood, and knew no more.”]
[Thibault’s Defenses Against the Countess’s Accusations]
[Thibault’s Failed Escape and Gruesome Fight with the Count]
Summary
[Thibault’s Defenses Against the Countess’s Accusations]
[(Recall from section 16 that Thibault the sorcerer has taken up the body of Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond and he is sneaking into a room with his illicit lover the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert.) The room he enters is lavishly furnished and adorned, and Thibault is deeply impressed, even wondering “Were there really men and women in the world, so blessed by fortune as to live in such surroundings as these? Had he not been carried to some wizard’s castle [le château de quelque génie], to some fairy’s palace [le palais de quelque fée]? And those who enjoyed such favour as this, what special good had they done? what special evil had they done [fait de mal], who were deprived of these advantages?” The beautiful and richly adorned Countess appears. Thibault falls to his knees before her. She thinks this is fitting given his crimes, that is, for him “having the blackest soul and the falsest heart ever hidden beneath such a gay and golden exterior. Now, get up, and come and give an account of yourself to me.” He gets up and kisses her hand. She asks what he has done since their last meeting five days ago. In their conversation where Thibault must do a lot of guessing and playing along, we learn that the Countess suspects him of romancing the girl Lisette who helps him to her room in secret, and this is what was meant by her anger over his loitering in the corridors (see section 16.2 and 16.3). She asks, “Where had you been the other night, when you were met on the road between Erneville and Villers-Cotterets?” Thibault says he was fishing at the drawing the Berval ponds and afterward dining with the Baron at Vez. She then forgives him for all this. Thibault asks if he committed an even blacker crime. She says yes, yesterday at the Duke of Orleans’ ball where Thibault “danced four times with Madame de Bonneuil.” Thibault, in trying to win over the Countess, falls to his knees before her.]
[ditto]
Thibault entra dans la chambre de la comtesse.
Si la magnificence des meubles du bailli Magloire, pris dans le garde-meuble de monseigneur le duc d’Orléans avait émerveillé Thibault, la fraîcheur, l’harmonie et le goût de cette chambre de la comtesse le ravirent jusqu’à l’enivrement.
Jamais le pauvre enfant de la forêt n’avait, même en rêve, vu rien de pareil.
On ne peut rêver des choses dont on n’a jamais eu l’idée.
Les deux fenêtres de cette chambre étaient fermées par de doubles rideaux.
Les premiers, de taffetas blanc garni de dentelles.
Les seconds, de satin de Chine bleu clair, brodés de fleurs d’argent.
Le lit et la toilette étaient drapés de même étoffe que les deux fenêtres, et à peu près perdus dans des flots de valenciennes.
Les murailles étaient couvertes d’une première tenture de taffetas rose très clair, sur laquelle pendait, bouillonnée à gros plis, une mousseline des Indes, fine comme de l’air tissé, et qui, au moindre vent venant de la porte, frissonnait comme une vapeur.
Le plafond se composait d’un médaillon peint par Boucher et représentant la toilette de Vénus.
Ces Amours recevaient des mains de leur mère les différentes pièces qui composent une armure féminine ; seulement, comme toutes les pièces de l’armure étaient aux mains des Amours, Vénus était complètement désarmée, à l’exception de la ceinture.
Ce médaillon était supporté par des caissons renfermant des vues supposées de Gnide, de Paphos et d’Amathonte.
Les meubles, chaises, fauteuils, causeuses, vis-à-vis, étaient recouverts en satin de Chine pareil aux rideaux.
Le tapis, d’un fond vert d’eau très clair, était parsemé, à grande distance les uns des autres, de bouquets de bluets, de pavots roses et de marguerites blanches.
Les tables étaient en bois de rose.
Les encoignures en laque de Coromandel.
Tout cela était mollement éclairé par six bougies de cire rose posées dans deux candélabres.
Un doux parfum flottait dans l’air, vague et indéfinissable. Il eût été impossible de dire de quelle essence il était composé.
Ce n’était point un parfum, c’était une émanation.
C’est à ces effluves embaumés qu’Énée, dans l’Énéide, reconnaît la présence de sa mère.
Poussé par la chambrière, Thibault avait fait un pas dans la chambre, puis il s’était arrêté.
Il avait tout vu d’un regard, tout aspiré d’un souffle.
Tout avait passé comme une vision devant ses yeux :
La chaumière d’Agnelette, la salle de la meunière, la chambre de la baillive.
Puis tout cela avait disparu pour faire place au délicieux paradis d’amour dans lequel il venait d’être transporté comme par enchantement.
Il doutait de la vérité de ce qu’il voyait.
Il se demandait s’il existait véritablement des hommes et des femmes si privilégiés de la fortune, qu’ils habitassent dans de pareilles demeures.
N’était-il pas dans le château de quelque génie, dans le palais de quelque fée ?
Qu’avaient donc fait de bien ceux qui jouissaient d’une pareille faveur ?
Qu’avaient donc fait de mal ceux qui en étaient privés ?
Pourquoi, au lieu de souhaiter d’être Raoul de Vauparfond pendant vingt-quatre heures, n’avait-il pas souhaité d’être le petit chien de la comtesse pendant toute sa vie ?
Comment redeviendrait-il Thibault après avoir vu tout cela ?
Il en était là de ses réflexions lorsque la porte du cabinet de toilette s’ouvrit et que la comtesse parut.
C’était bien véritablement l’oiseau de ce nid charmant, la fleur de cette terre embaumée.
Ses cheveux, dénoués et soutenus seulement par trois ou quatre épingles en diamants, tombaient d’un côté derrière son épaule, tandis que, de l’autre, roulés en une seule grosse boucle, ils retombaient et se perdaient dans sa poitrine.
Son corps souple et flexible, débarrassé de ses paniers, dessinait ses lignes harmonieuses sous une robe de chambre de taffetas rose toute ruisselante de guipure.
Sa jambe était chaussée d’un bas de soie si fin et si transparent, que l’on eût dit de la chair blanche et nacrée et non d’un tissu.
Enfin, son pied d’enfant était emprisonné dans une petite mule de drap d’argent à talon cerise.
Point de parure. Pas de bracelets aux bras, pas de bagues aux doigts ; un seul fil de perles autour du cou, mais quelles perles ! une rançon de roi.
En apercevant la rayonnante apparition, Thibault tomba à genoux.
Il se courbait, écrasé sous ce luxe et sous cette beauté, qui semblaient inséparables l’un de l’autre.
– Oh ! oui, mettez-vous à genoux, bien bas, plus bas encore… Baisez mes pieds, baisez le tapis, baisez la terre… et je ne vous pardonnerai pas davantage pour cela… Vous êtes un monstre !
– Le fait est que, si je me compare à vous, madame, je suis certes encore pis que cela.
– Oh ! oui, faites semblant de vous tromper au sens de mes paroles et de croire que je parle au physique, tandis que je parle au moral ; oui, certainement, vous devriez être un monstre de laideur, si votre âme perfide transparaissait à travers votre visage ; mais non, c’est qu’il n’en est pas ainsi ; c’est que monsieur, malgré tous ses méfaits, malgré toutes ses infamies, reste le plus beau gentilhomme des environs. Allez, monsieur, vous devriez être honteux !
– D’être le plus beau gentilhomme des environs ? demanda Thibault, qui comprenait bien à l’accent de cette voix que le crime qu’il avait commis n’était point irrémissible.
– Non, monsieur, mais d’être l’âme la plus noire, le cœur le plus perfide qui se puisse cacher sous une enveloppe dorée. Allons, relevez-vous, et venez ici me rendre compte de votre conduite.
Et la comtesse tendit à Thibault une main qui tout à la fois offrait un pardon et demandait un baiser.
Thibault prit la douce main et la baisa.
Jamais ses lèvres n’avaient effleuré pareil satin.
La comtesse indiqua au faux Raoul une place sur la causeuse et s’assit la première.
– Rendez-moi compte un peu de ce que vous avez fait depuis votre dernière visite, lui dit la comtesse.
– Dites-moi d’abord, chère comtesse, fit Thibault, de quelle époque date ma dernière visite ici ?
– Bon ! vous l’avez oublié ! Ah ! par exemple ! on n’avoue pas ces choses-là, à moins que l’on ne vienne chercher une rupture.
– Tout au contraire, chère Jane, cette visite m’est si présente, qu’il me semble que c’est hier, et que j’ai beau me rappeler tous mes souvenirs, je n’ai commis depuis hier d’autre crime que de vous aimer.
– Allons, pas mal ! mais vous ne vous tirerez point d’un mauvais pas avec un compliment.
– Chère comtesse, dit Thibault, si nous remettions à plus tard les explications ?
– Non, répondez d’abord ; il y a cinq jours que je ne vous ai vu : qu’avez-vous fait ?
– J’attends que vous me le disiez, comtesse. Comment voulez-vous que, certain de mon innocence, je m’accuse moi-même ?
– Eh bien, soit ! D’abord, je ne vous parle pas de vos retards dans les corridors.
– Oh ! si ! parlons-en ; comment supposez-vous, comtesse, qu’attendu par vous, c’est-à-dire par le diamant des diamants, j’aille m’amuser à ramasser sur la route une fausse perle ?
– Eh ! mon Dieu ! les hommes sont si capricieux, et Lisette est si jolie !
– Non ; comprenez donc, chère Jane, que cette fille étant notre confidente, que cette fille sachant tous nos secrets, je ne puis point la traiter comme une servante.
– Comme c’est gracieux à se dire : « Je trompe la comtesse de Mont-Gobert et je suis le rival de M. Cramoisi ! »
– C’est bien, on ne s’arrêtera plus dans les corridors et l’on n’embrassera plus Lisette, en supposant qu’on l’ait embrassée.
– Oh ! cela n’est rien encore.
– Comment ! j’ai commis quelque chose de plus grave ?
– D’où reveniez-vous l’autre nuit, quand on vous a rencontré sur la route d’Erneville à Villers-Cotterêts ?
– Comment ! on m’a rencontré sur la route ?
– Sur la route d’Erneville ; d’où veniez-vous ?
– Je venais de la pêche.
– Comment ! de la pêche ?
– Oui, l’on pêchait dans les étangs du Berval.
– Oh ! l’on sait cela, vous êtes un grand pêcheur, monsieur. Et quelle anguille rapportiez-vous dans votre filet, monsieur, revenant de la pêche à deux heures du matin ?
– J’avais dîné chez mon ami le seigneur Jean.
– À la tour de Vez ? Je crois plutôt que vous étiez allé consoler la belle recluse que, prétend-on, le jaloux louvetier tient prisonnière. Mais enfin, cela, je vous le pardonne encore.
– Comment ! j’ai fait pis que cela ? dit Thibault, qui commençait à se rassurer en voyant avec quelle facilité le pardon suivait l’accusation, si grande qu’elle fût.
– Oui, au bal de monseigneur le duc d’Orléans.
– À quel bal ?
– À celui d’hier ! Il n’y a pas longtemps.
– À celui d’hier ? Je vous ai admirée.
– Bon ! je n’y étais pas.
– Est-il besoin que vous soyez là pour que je vous admire, Jane, et n’admire-t-on pas aussi sincèrement en souvenir qu’en réalité ? Si, absente, vous triomphez par la comparaison, la victoire n’en est que plus grande.
– Oui, et c’est pour pousser la comparaison jusqu’à ses dernières limites que vous avez dansé quatre fois avec madame de Bonneuil ? C’est donc bien joli, les brunes qui se couvrent de rouge, qui ont des sourcils comme les Chinois de mon paravent et des moustaches comme un soldat aux gardes ?
– Savez-vous de quoi nous avons parlé pendant ces quatre contredanses ?
– Mais c’est donc vrai, que vous avez dansé avec elle quatre fois ?
– C’est vrai, puisque vous le dites.
– Oh ! la bonne réponse !
– Sans doute ; qui donc voudrait démentir une si jolie bouche ? Ce n’est pas moi, moi qui la bénirais encore au moment où elle prononcerait ma sentence de mort.
Et, comme pour attendre sa sentence, Thibault tomba à genoux devant la comtesse.
(224-230)
THIBAULT found himself in the Countess’s room. If the magnificence of Bailiff Magloire’s furniture rescued from the lumber-room of his Highness the Duke of Orleans, had astonished Thibault, the daintiness, the harmony, the taste of the Countess’s room filled him with intoxicating delight. The rough child of the forest had never seen anything like it, even in dreams; for one cannot even dream of things of which we have no idea.
Double curtains were drawn across the two windows, the one set of white silk trimmed with lace, the other of pale china blue satin, embroidered with silver flowers. The bed and the toilet table were draped to match the windows, and were nearly smothered in clouds of Valenciennes lace. The walls were hung with very light rose-coloured silk, over which thick folds of Indian muslin, delicate as woven air, undulated like waves of mist at the slightest breath of air from the door. The ceiling was composed of a medallion painted by Boucher, and representing the toilet of Venus; she was handing her cupids the various articles of a woman’s apparel, and these were now all distributed, with the exception of the goddess’s girdle.
The central medallion was surrounded by a series of panels, on which were painted supposed views of Cnidos, Paphos, and Amathus. All the furniture,—chairs, armchairs, settees, sociables,—was covered with China satin similar to that of the curtains; over the groundwork of the carpet, of the colour of pale green water, were scattered bouquets of blue corn-flowers, pink poppies, and white daisies. The tables were of rose-wood; the corner-pieces of Indian lacquer; and the whole room was softly lighted by pink wax candles held in two candelabra. A vague and indescribably delicate perfume pervaded the air, one could not say from what sweet essence, for it was scarcely even a perfume, but rather an emanation, the same kind of odorous exhalation whereby Æneas, in the Æneid, recognised the presence of his mother.
Thibault pushed into the room by the waiting-maid, made one step forward, and then stopped. He had taken everything in at a glance, inhaled everything at a breath. For a second there passed before his mind’s eye like a vision,—Agnelette’s little cottage, Madame Polet’s dining-room, the bed-chamber of the Bailiff’s wife; but they disappeared as quickly to give place to this delicious paradise of love into which he had been transported as by magic. He could scarcely believe that what he looked upon was real. Were there really men and women in the world, so blessed by fortune as to live in such surroundings as these? Had he not been carried to some wizard’s castle [le château de quelque génie], to some fairy’s palace [le palais de quelque fée]? And those who enjoyed such favour as this, what special good had they done? what special evil had they done [fait de mal], who were deprived of these advantages? Why, instead of wishing to be the Baron for four and twenty hours, had he not wished to be the Countess’s lap-dog all his life? How would he bear to be Thibault again after having seen all this? He had just reached this point in his reflections, when the dressing-room door opened and the Countess herself appeared, a fit bird for such a nest, a fit flower for such a sweet scented garden.
Her hair, fastened only by four diamond pins, hung down loosely to one side, while the rest was gathered into one large curl that hung over the other shoulder and fell into her bosom. The graceful lines of her lithe and well-formed figure, no longer hidden by puffings of dress, were clearly indicated beneath her loose pink silk gown, richly covered with lace; so fine and transparent was the silk of her stockings, that it was more like pearl-white flesh than any texture, and her tiny feet were shod in little slippers made of cloth of silver, with red heels. But not an atom of jewellery—no bracelets on the arms, no rings on the fingers; just one row of pearls round the throat, that was all—but what pearls! worth a king’s ransom!
As this radiant apparition came towards him, Thibault fell on his knees; he bowed himself, feeling crushed at the sight of this luxury, of this beauty, which to him seemed inseparable.
“Yes, yes, you may well kneel—kneel lower, lower yet—kiss my feet, kiss the carpet, kiss the floor, but I shall not any the more forgive you ... you are a monster!”
“In truth, Madame, if I compare myself with you, I am even worse than that!”
“Ah! yes, pretend that you mistake my words and think I am only speaking of your outward appearance, when you know I am speaking of your behaviour ... and, indeed, if your perfidious soul were imaged in your face, you would verily and indeed be a monster of ugliness. But yet it is not so, for Monsieur, for all his wickedness and infamous doings, still remains the handsomest gentleman in all the country round. But, come now, Monsieur, ought you not to be ashamed of yourself?”
“Because I am the handsomest gentleman in the neighbourhood?” asked Thibault, detecting by the tone of the lady’s voice that his crime was not an irremediable one.
“No, Monsieur, but for having the blackest soul and the falsest heart ever hidden beneath such a gay and golden exterior. Now, get up, and come and give an account of yourself to me.”
And the Countess so speaking held out a hand to Thibault which offered pardon at the same time that it demanded a kiss.
Thibault took the soft, sweet hand in his own and kissed it; never had his lips touched anything so like satin. The Countess now seated herself on the settee and made a sign to Raoul to sit down beside her.
“Let me know something of your doings, since you were last here,” said the Countess to him.
“First tell me, dear Countess,” replied Thibault, “when I last was here.”
“Do you mean you have forgotten? One does not generally acknowledge things of that kind, unless seeking for a cause of quarrel.”
“On the contrary, dear friend, it is because the recollection of that last visit is so present with me, that I think it must have been only yesterday we were together, and I try in vain to recall what I have done, and I assure you I have committed no other crime since yesterday but that of loving you.”
“That’s not a bad speech; but you will not get yourself out of disgrace by paying compliments.”
“Dear Countess,” said Thibault, “supposing we put off explanations to another time.”
“No, you must answer me now; it is five days since I last saw you; what have you been doing all that time?”
“I am waiting for you to tell me, Countess. How can you expect me, conscious as I am of my innocence, to accuse myself?”
“Very well then! I will not begin by saying anything about your loitering in the corridors.”
“Oh, pray, let us speak of it! how can you think, Countess, that knowing you, the diamond of diamonds, was waiting for me, I should stop to pick up an imitation pearl?”
“Ah! but I know how fickle men are, and Lisette is such a pretty girl!”
“Not so, dear Jane, but you must understand that she being our confidante, and knowing all our secrets, I cannot treat her quite like a servant.”
“How agreeable it must be to be able to say to one’s-self ‘I am deceiving the Comtesse de Mont-Gobert and I am the rival of Monsieur Cramoisi!’ ”
“Very well then, there shall be no more loiterings in the corridors, no more kisses for poor Lisette, supposing of course there ever have been any!”
“Well, after all, there is no great harm in that.”
“Do you mean that I have done something even worse?”
“Where had you been the other night, when you were met on the road between Erneville and Villers-Cotterets?”
“Someone met me on the road?”
“Yes, on the Erneville Road; where were you coming from?”
“I was coming home from fishing.”
“Fishing! what fishing?”
“They had been drawing the Berval ponds.”
“Oh! we know all about that; you are such a fine fisher, are you not, Monsieur? And what sort of an eel were you bringing back in your net, returning from your fishing at two o’clock in the morning!”
“I had been dining with my friend, the Baron, at Vez.”
“At Vez? ha! I fancy you went there mainly to console the beautiful recluse, whom the jealous Baron keeps shut up there a regular prisoner, so they say. But even that I can forgive you.”
“What, is there a blacker crime still,” said Thibault, who was beginning to feel quite reassured, seeing how quickly the pardon followed on the accusation; however serious it appeared at first.
“Yes, at the ball given by his Highness the Duke of Orleans.”
“What ball?”
“Why, the one yesterday! it’s not so very along ago, is it?”
“Oh, yesterday’s ball? I was admiring you.”
“Indeed; but I was not there.”
“Is it necessary for you to be present, Jane, for me to admire you; cannot one admire you in remembrance as truly as in person? and if, when absent, you triumph by comparison, the victory is only so much the greater.”
“I daresay, and it was in order to carry out the comparison to its utmost limits that you danced four times with Madame de Bonneuil; they are very pretty, are they not, those dark women who cover themselves with rouge, and have eyebrows like the Chinese mannikins on my screens and moustaches like a grenadier.”
“Do you know what we talked about during those four dances.”
“It is true then, that you danced four times with her?”
“It is true, no doubt, since you say so.”
“Is that a proper sort of answer?”
“What other could I give? could anyone contradict what was said by so pretty a mouth? not I certainly, who would still bless it, even though it were pronouncing my sentence of death.”
And, as if to await this sentence, Thibault fell on his knees before the Countess, but at that moment, the door opened, and Lisette rushed in full of alarm.
(84-86)
[Thibault’s Failed Escape and Gruesome Fight with the Count]
[Just then, Lisette rushed alarmed into the room. She says urgently that Thibault (Raoul) must save himself, because the count is coming with his huntsman Lestocq. The Countess thinks that she has been set-up by her husband to catch her with her illicit lover. Thibault suggests they kill the Count. The Countess instead says he should run. Lisette takes Thibault away just before someone comes to the room. She navigates him through a series of backways until he finally exits through a window. He jumps on his horse, but instead of taking Thibault away, it collapses. Thibault realizes that the Count hamstrung it to prevent his escape. “Thibault uttered an oath: ‘If I ever meet you, Monsieur Comte de Mont-Gobert,’ he said, ‘I swear that I will hamstring you, as you have hamstrung this poor beast!’” Thibault tries to escape on foot through the breach in the wall he originally came through (see section 16.2). But as he exits, he faces the Count, who is ready for him with his sword. The Count calls for him to draw his sword to fight, but Thibault draws his hunting-knife instead (see section 16.1). They fight. Thibault fights with the great skill of Raoul’s body. They continue until Thibault finally cuts into the Count’s shoulder, causing him to drop his sword and fall to the ground, crying for help from Lestocq. Thibault, who vowed to hamstring the Count, does so, but this gives Lestocq the opportunity to put Thibault’s hunting-knife through his chest from behind. “Then he saw a cloud of blood, and knew no more.”]
[ditto]
Au même instant, la porte s’ouvrit et Lisette parut tout effarée.
– Ah ! monsieur le baron, dit-elle, sauvez-vous ! voilà M. le comte !
– Comment ! M. le comte ? s’écria la comtesse.
– Oui, M. le comte en personne, avec son piqueur Lestocq.
– Impossible !
– Madame la comtesse, Cramoisi les a vus comme je vous vois ; le pauvre garçon en était tout pâle.
– Ah ! cette chasse au château de Thury, c’était donc un piège ?
– Qui sait, madame ? Oh ! les hommes sont si perfides !
– Que faire ? demanda la comtesse.
– Attendre le comte et le tuer, dit résolument Thibault, furieux de voir lui échapper encore cette nouvelle bonne fortune, la plus précieuse de toutes celles qu’il avait ambitionnées.
– Le tuer ? Tuer le comte ? Mais êtes-vous fou, Raoul ? Non, non, il s’agit de fuir, de vous sauver… Lisette ! Lisette ! emmène le baron par mon cabinet de toilette.
Et Lisette, poussant Thibault malgré ses efforts, disparut avec lui dans le cabinet.
Il était temps !
On entendait le bruit de pas dans le grand escalier.
La comtesse jeta une dernière parole d’amour au faux Raoul et se glissa vivement dans sa chambre à coucher.
Thibault suivait Lisette.
Elle lui fit traverser rapidement le corridor, dont Cramoisi gardait l’autre extrémité.
Elle entra dans une chambre, de cette chambre dans une autre, puis dans un cabinet.
Le cabinet communiquait avec une petite tourelle.
Là, les fugitifs retrouvèrent, pour descendre, le pendant de l’escalier qu’ils avaient trouvé pour monter.
Seulement, arrivés au bas, ils trouvèrent la porte fermée.
Lisette, toujours suivie de Thibault, remonta quelques marches, entra dans une espèce de petit office dont la fenêtre donnait sur le jardin, et ouvrit la fenêtre.
Cette fenêtre était à quelques pieds seulement du sol. Thibault s’élança et toucha la terre sans s’être fait aucun mal.
– Vous savez où est votre cheval, s’écria Lisette ; sautez dessus, et ne vous arrêtez qu’à Vauparfond.
Thibault eût bien voulu remercier la soubrette de ses bons avis ; mais elle était à six pieds au-dessus de sa tête, et il n’avait pas de temps à perdre.
En deux bonds, il gagna le massif d’arbres sous lequel était abritée la petite fabrique qui servait d’écurie à son cheval.
Seulement, son cheval y était-il ?
Un hennissement le rassura sur ce point.
Cependant ce hennissement semblait un cri de douleur.
Thibault entra dans la petite fabrique, étendit les mains, toucha son cheval, rassembla les rênes, et sauta sur son dos sans mettre le pied à l’étrier.
Thibault, nous l’avons dit, était devenu tout à coup un écuyer consommé.
Mais, en recevant ce fardeau, auquel il devait cependant être accoutumé, le cheval plia.
Thibault lui mit les éperons au ventre afin de l’enlever.
Le cheval, en effet, tenta de s’élancer ; mais à peine eut-il levé les deux jambes de devant, qu’il poussa un de ces hennissements douloureux comme Thibault en avait déjà entendu, et se coucha sur le côté.
Thibault dégagea vivement sa jambe de dessous lui, ce qui lui fut assez facile, vu les efforts que l’animal faisait pour se relever, et il se trouva debout.
Il comprit alors que le comte, pour qu’il ne pût fuir, avait coupé ou fait couper les jarrets à son cheval.
– Ah ! mordieu ! dit-il, si je vous rencontre, M. le comte de Mont-Gobert, je vous jure bien que je vous couperai les jarrets comme vous les avez coupés à cette pauvre bête.
Et il s’élança hors de la fabrique. Thibault reconnut le chemin par où il était venu, et qui le ramenait à la brèche.
Il marcha rapidement vers l’ouverture de la muraille, l’atteignit, escalada les pierres et se trouva hors du parc.
Mais là il vit un homme immobile et l’épée à la main.
Cet homme lui barrait la route.
Thibault reconnut le comte de Mont-Gobert.
Le comte de Mont-Gobert crut reconnaître Raoul de Vauparfond.
– Tirez votre épée, baron ! dit le comte.
Toute explication était inutile. D’ailleurs, Thibault, à qui le comte arrachait des mains une proie sur laquelle il avait déjà mis l’ongle et la dent, Thibault ne le cédait point en colère au comte.
Il tira, non pas son épée, mais son couteau de chasse.
Les fers se croisèrent.
Thibault, qui jouait passablement de la canne et du bâton, n’avait aucune idée de l’escrime.
Il fut donc tout étonné lorsque, ayant mis l’épée à la main instinctivement, cela lui semblait ainsi du moins, il se trouva en garde et couvert selon toutes les règles de l’art.
Le comte lui porta les uns sur les autres deux ou trois coups qu’il para avec une admirable habileté.
– Oui, en effet, murmura le comte, les dents serrées, on m’a dit qu’au dernier assaut vous aviez touché Saint-Georges.
Thibault ne savait pas ce que c’était que Saint-Georges. Mais il se sentait une fermeté et une élasticité de poignet, grâce auxquelles il lui semblait qu’il eût touché le diable en personne.
Jusque-là, il s’était borné à la défense ; mais, tout à coup, à la suite d’un un ou deux mal attaqué par le comte, il vit un jour, se fendit et lui traversa l’épaule d’un coup droit.
Le comte laissa échapper son épée, plia sur la jambe gauche, et tomba un genou en terre en criant :
– À moi, Lestocq !
Thibault eût dû remettre son couteau de chasse au fourreau et fuir. Par malheur, il se rappela le serment qu’il avait fait, s’il rencontrait le comte, de lui couper les jarrets comme celui-ci avait fait à son cheval.
Il glissa la lame tranchante sous le genou plié et tira à lui.
Le comte jeta un cri.
Mais, en se relevant, Thibault sentit à son tour une vive douleur entre les deux épaules, puis une sensation glacée qui lui traversait la poitrine.
Puis, enfin, au-dessus de la mamelle droite, il vit sortir la pointe d’un fer.
Puis il ne vit plus rien qu’un nuage de sang.
Lestocq, que son maître avait, en tombant, appelé à son aide, y était venu et avait profité du moment où Thibault se relevait, après avoir coupé les jarrets du comte, pour lui enfoncer son couteau de chasse entre les deux épaules.
(230-234)
[And, as if to await this sentence, Thibault fell on his knees before the Countess,] but at that moment, the door opened, and Lisette rushed in full of alarm.
“Ah! Monsieur, Monsieur,” she cried “save yourself! here comes my master the Count!”
“The Count!” exclaimed the Countess.
“Yes, the Count in person, and his huntsman Lestocq, with him.”
“Impossible!”
“I assure you, Madame, Cramoisi saw them as plain as I see you; the poor fellow was quite pale with fright.”
“Ah! then the meet at Thury was all a pretence, a trap to catch me?”
“Who can tell, Madame? Alas! alas! men are such deceiving creatures!”
“What is to be done?” asked the Countess.
“Wait for the Count and kill him,” said Thibault resolutely, furious at again seeing his good fortune escaping from him, at losing what above all things it had been his ambition to possess.
“Kill him! kill the Count? are you mad, Raoul? No, no, you must fly, you must save yourself.... Lisette! Lisette! take the Baron through my dressing-room.” And in spite of his resistance, Lisette by dint of pushing got him safely away. Only just in time! steps were heard coming up the wide main staircase. The Countess, with a last word of love to the supposed Raoul, glided quickly into her bedroom, while Thibault followed Lisette. She led him rapidly along the corridor, where Cramoisi was keeping guard at the other end; then into a room, and through this into another, and finally into a smaller one which led into a little tower; here, the fugitives came again on to a staircase corresponding with the one by which they had gone up, but when they reached the bottom they found the door locked. Lisette, with Thibault still following, went back up a few steps into a sort of office in which was a window looking over the garden; this she opened. It was only a few feet from the ground, and Thibault jumped out, landing safely below.
“You know where your horse is,” called Lisette “jump on its back, and do not stop till you get to Vauparfond.”
Thibault would have liked to thank her for all her kindly warnings, but she was some six feet above him and he had no time to lose. A stride or two brought him to the clump of trees under which stood the little building which served as stable for his horse. But was the horse still there? He heard a neigh which reassured him: only the neigh sounded he thought more like a cry of pain. Thibault went in, put out his hand, felt the horse, gathered up the reins, and leaped on to its back without touching the stirrups; Thibault, as we have already said, had suddenly become a consummate horseman. But the horse no sooner felt the weight of the rider on its back than the poor beast began to totter on its legs. Thibault dug his spurs in savagely, and the horse made a frantic effort to stand. But in another instant, uttering one of those pitiful neighs which Thibault had heard when he approached the stable, it rolled helplessly over on its side. Thibault quickly disengaged his leg from under the animal, which, as the poor thing struggled to rise, he had no difficulty in doing, and he found himself again on his feet. Then it became clear to him, that in order to prevent his escape, Monsieur le Comte de Mont-Gobert had hamstrung his horse.
Thibault uttered an oath: “If I ever meet you, Monsieur Comte de Mont-Gobert,” he said, “I swear that I will hamstring you, as you have hamstrung this poor beast!”
Then he rushed out of the little building, and remembering the way he had come, turned in the direction of the breach in the wall, and walking quickly towards it, found it, climbed over the stones, and was again outside the park. But his further passage was barred, for there in front of him was the figure of a man, who stood waiting, with a drawn sword in his hand. Thibault recognised the Comte de Mont-Gobert, the Comte de Mont-Gobert thought he recognised Raoul de Vauparfond.
“Draw, Baron!” said the Count; further explanation was unnecessary. Thibault, on his side, equally enraged at having the prey, on which he had already set tooth and claw, snatched away from him, was as ready to fight as the Count. He drew, not his sword, but his hunting-knife, and the two men crossed weapons.
Thibault, who was something of an adept at quarter-staff, had no idea of fencing; what was his surprise therefore, when he found, that he knew by instinct how to handle his weapon, and could parry and thrust according to all the rules of the art. He parried the first two or three of the Count’s blows with admirable skill.
“Ah, I heard, I remember,” muttered the Count between his clenched teeth, “that at the last match you rivalled Saint-Georges himself at the foils.”
Thibault had no conception who Saint-Georges might be, but he was conscious of a strength and elasticity of wrist, thanks to which he felt he might have rivalled the devil himself.
So far, he had only been on the defensive; but the Count having aimed one or two unsuccessful lunges at him, he saw his opportunity, struck out, and sent his knife clean through his adversary’s shoulder. The Count dropped his sword, tottered, and falling on to one knee, cried “Help, Lestocq!”
Thibault ought then to have sheathed his knife and fled; but, unfortunately, he remembered the oath he had taken as regards the Count, when he had found that his horse had been hamstrung. He slipped the sharp blade of his weapon under the bent knee and drew it towards him; the Count uttered a cry; but as Thibault rose from his stooping posture, he too felt a sharp pain between his shoulder-blades, followed by a sensation as of extreme cold over the chest, and finally the point of a weapon appeared above his right breast. Then he saw a cloud of blood, and knew no more. Lestocq, called to his master’s aid as the latter fell, had run to the spot, and, as Thibault rose from hamstringing the Count, had seized that moment to dig his hunting knife into his back.
(86-87)
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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