a woman of thirty-第6部分

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〃Yes；　here　or　anywhere；〃　she　answered　listlessly。

〃Do　you　feel　ill？〃　asked　Colonel　d'Aiglemont。

〃No；　not　at　all；〃　she　answered　with　momentary　energy；　and；　smiling　at　her　husband；　she　added；　〃I　should　like　to　go　to　sleep。〃

Suddenly　there　came　a　sound　of　a　horse　galloping　towards　them。　Victor　d'Aiglemont　dropped　his　wife's　hand　and　turned　to　watch　the　bend　in　the　road。　No　sooner　had　he　taken　his　eyes　from　Julie's　pale　face　than　all　the　assumed　gaiety　died　out　of　it；　it　was　as　if　a　light　had　been　extinguished。　She　felt　no　wish　to　look　at　the　landscape；　no　curiosity　to　see　the　horseman　who　was　galloping　towards　them　at　such　a　furious　pace；　and；　ensconcing　herself　in　her　corner；　stared　out　before　her　at　the　hindquarters　of　the　post…horses；　looking　as　blank　as　any　Breton　peasant　listening　to　his　/recteur's/　sermon。

Suddenly　a　young　man　riding　a　valuable　horse　came　out　from　behind　the　clump　of　poplars　and　flowering　briar…rose。

〃It　is　an　Englishman；〃　remarked　the　Colonel。

〃Lord　bless　you；　yes；　General；〃　said　the　post…boy；　〃he　belongs　to　the　race　of　fellows　who　have　a　mind　to　gobble　up　France；　they　say。〃

The　stranger　was　one　of　the　foreigners　traveling　in　France　at　the　time　when　Napoleon　detained　all　British　subjects　within　the　limits　of　the　Empire；　by　way　of　reprisals　for　the　violation　of　the　Treaty　of　Amiens；　an　outrage　of　international　law　perpetrated　by　the　Court　of　St。　James。　These　prisoners；　compelled　to　submit　to　the　Emperor's　pleasure；　were　not　all　suffered　to　remain　in　the　houses　where　they　were　arrested；　nor　yet　in　the　places　of　residence　which　at　first　they　were　permitted　to　choose。　Most　of　the　English　colony　in　Touraine　had　been　transplanted　thither　from　different　places　where　their　presence　was　supposed　to　be　inimical　to　the　interests　of　the　Continental　Policy。

The　young　man；　who　was　taking　the　tedium　of　the　early　morning　hours　on　horseback；　was　one　of　these　victims　of　bureaucratic　tyranny。　Two　years　previously；　a　sudden　order　from　the　Foreign　Office　had　dragged　him　from　Montpellier；　whither　he　had　gone　on　account　of　consumptive　tendencies。　He　glanced　at　the　Comte　d'Aiglemont；　saw　that　he　was　a　military　man；　and　deliberately　looked　away；　turning　his　head　somewhat　abruptly　towards　the　meadows　by　the　Cise。

〃The　English　are　all　as　insolent　as　if　the　globe　belonged　to　them；〃　muttered　the　Colonel。　〃Luckily；　Soult　will　give　them　a　thrashing　directly。〃

The　prisoner　gave　a　glance　to　the　caleche　as　he　rode　by。　Brief　though　that　glance　was；　he　had　yet　time　to　notice　the　sad　expression　which　lent　an　indefinable　charm　to　the　Countess'　pensive　face。　Many　men　are　deeply　moved　by　the　mere　semblance　of　suffering　in　a　woman；　they　take　the　look　of　pain　for　a　sign　of　constancy　or　of　love。　Julie　herself　was　so　much　absorbed　in　the　contemplation　of　the　opposite　cushion　that　she　saw　neither　the　horse　nor　the　rider。　The　damaged　trace　meanwhile　had　been　quickly　and　strongly　repaired；　the　Count　stepped　into　his　place　again；　and　the　post…boy；　doing　his　best　to　make　up　for　lost　time；　drove　the　carriage　rapidly　along　the　embankment。　On　they　drove　under　the　overhanging　cliffs；　with　their　picturesque　vine…dressers'　huts　and　stores　of　wine　maturing　in　their　dark　sides；　till　in　the　distance　uprose　the　spire　of　the　famous　Abbey　of　Marmoutiers；　the　retreat　of　St。　Martin。

〃What　can　that　diaphanous　milord　want　with　us？〃　exclaimed　the　Colonel；　turning　to　assure　himself　that　the　horseman　who　had　followed　them　from　the　bridge　was　the　young　Englishman。

After　all；　the　stranger　committed　no　breach　of　good　manners　by　riding　along　on　the　footway；　and　Colonel　d'Aiglemont　was　fain　to　lie　back　in　his　corner　after　sending　a　scowl　in　the　Englishman's　direction。　But　in　spite　of　his　hostile　instincts；　he　could　not　help　noticing　the　beauty　of　the　animal　and　the　graceful　horsemanship　of　the　rider。　The　young　man's　face　was　of　that　pale；　fair…complexioned；　insular　type；　which　is　almost　girlish　in　the　softness　and　delicacy　of　its　color　and　texture。　He　was　tall；　thin；　and　fair…haired；　dressed　with　the　extreme　and　elaborate　neatness　characteristic　of　a　man　of　fashion　in　prudish　England。　Any　one　might　have　thought　that　bashfulness　rather　than　pleasure　at　the　sight　of　the　Countess　had　called　up　that　flush　into　his　face。　Once　only　Julie　raised　her　eyes　and　looked　at　the　stranger；　and　then　only　because　she　was　in　a　manner　compelled　to　do　so；　for　her　husband　called　upon　her　to　admire　the　action　of　the　thoroughbred。　It　so　happened　that　their　glances　clashed；　and　the　shy　Englishman；　instead　of　riding　abreast　of　the　carriage；　fell　behind　on　this；　and　followed　them　at　a　distance　of　a　few　paces。

Yet　the　Countess　had　scarcely　given　him　a　glance；　she　saw　none　of　the　various　perfections；　human　and　equine；　commended　to　her　notice；　and　fell　back　again　in　the　carriage；　with　a　slight　movement　of　the　eyelids　intended　to　express　her　acquiescence　in　her　husband's　views。　The　Colonel　fell　asleep　again；　and　both　husband　and　wife　reached　Tours　without　another　word。　Not　one　of　those　enchanting　views　of　everchanging　landscape　through　which　they　sped　had　drawn　so　much　as　a　glance　from　Julie's　eyes。

Mme。　d'Aiglemont　looked　now　and　again　at　her　sleeping　husband。　While　she　looked；　a　sudden　jolt　shook　something　down　upon　her　knees。　It　was　her　father's　portrait；　a　miniature　which　she　wore　suspended　about　her　neck　by　a　black　cord。　At　the　sight　of　it；　the　tears；　till　then　kept　back；　overflowed　her　eyes；　but　no　one；　save　perhaps　the　Englishman；　saw　them　glitter　there　for　a　brief　moment　before　they　dried　upon　her　pale　cheeks。

Colonel　d'Aiglemont　was　on　his　way　to　the　South。　Marshal　Soult　was　repelling　an　English　invasion　of　Bearn；　and　d'Aiglemont；　the　bearer　of　the　Emperor's　orders　to　the　Marshal；　seized　the　opportunity　of　taking　his　wife　as　far　as　Tours　to　leave　her　with　an　elderly　relative　of　his　own；　far　away　from　the　dangers　threatening　Paris。

Very　shortly　the　carriage　rolled　over　the　paved　road　of　Tours；　over　the　bridge；　along　the　Grande…Rue；　and　stopped　at　last　before　the　old　mansion　of　the　/ci…devant/　Marquise　de　Listomere…Landon。

The　Marquise　de　Listomere…Landon；　with　her　white　hair；　pale　face；　and　shrewd　smile；　was　one　of　those　fine　old　ladies　who　still　seem　to　wear　the　paniers　of　the　eighteenth　century；　and　affects　caps　of　an　extinct　mode。　They　are　nearly　always　caressing　in　their　manners；　as　if　the　heyday　of　love　still　lingered　on　for　these　septuagenarian　portraits　of　the　age　of　Louis　Quinze；　with　the　faint　perfume　of　/poudre　a　la　marechale/　always　clinging　about　them。　Bigoted　rather　than　pious；　and　less　of　bigots　than　they　seem；　women　who　can　tell　a　story　well　and　talk　still　better；　their　laughter　comes　more　readily　for　an　old　memory　than　for　a　new　jestthe　present　intrudes　upon　them。

When　an　old　waiting…woman　announced　to　the　Marquise　de　Listomere…　Landon　（to　give　her　the　title　which　she　was　soon　to　resume）　the　arrival　of　a　nephew　whom　she　had　not　seen　since　the　outbreak　of　the　war　with　Spain；　the　old　lady　took　off　her　spectacles　with　alacrity；　shut　the　/Galerie　de　l'ancienne　Cour/　（her　favorite　work）；　and　recovered　something　like　youthful　activity；　hastening　out　upon　the　flight　of　steps　to　greet　the　young　couple　there。

Aunt　and　niece　exchanged　a　ra