The Red and the Black (12 page)

chambermaid. After all, Mr Julien's father's only a carpenter; and how did he earn his living before he came to Madam's?'

M
^me
de Rênal had ceased to listen; the surfeit of happiness had almost
deprived her of her senses. She asked her maid to confirm several
times over that Julien had given a definite refusal which ruled out
the possibility of going back to a more sensible decision.

'I want to make a last attempt,' she told her maid. 'I shall speak to Mr Julien.'

After lunch the next day, M
^me
de Rênal gave herself the sweet pleasure of pleading her rival's
cause, and seeing Elisa's hand and fortune steadfastly spurned for an
hour on end.

Gradually Julien dropped his stilted replies, and ended up answering M
^me
de Rênal's sensible arguments with some degree of wit. She could not
withstand the flood of happiness which overwhelmed her after so many
days of despair. She suddenly felt quite unwell. When she had
recovered and was comfortably settled in her room, she sent everyone
away. She was deeply astonished.

Could I be in love with Julien? she asked herself at last.

This discovery, which at any other moment would have plunged her into
remorse and deep agitation, remained a matter of intellectual
contemplation for her: she was very struck by it, but somehow
indifferent. She was so exhausted by everything she had just been
through that she had no emotional energy left to experience any
feelings.

M
^me
de Rênal
tried to settle to her needlework, and fell into a deep sleep. When
she awoke, she did not experience as strong a sense of alarm as she
should have done. She was too happy to be able to put a bad
interpretation on anything. This good provincial woman was so naïve
and innocent that she had never tortured her soul to try and force it
to experience some new nuance of feeling or unhappiness. Before
Julien's arrival she had been completely absorbed by the volume of
work which, in regions remote from Paris, is the lot of a good
mother and housewife; and she thought of passions as we think of the
lottery: inevitably a confidence trick, and a source of happiness
pursued only by madmen.

The bell rang for dinner; M
^me
de Rênal blushed deeply when

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she heard Julien's voice as he brought the children in. She had
become quite cunning since falling in love, and to explain away her
flushed appearance she complained of a terrible headache.

'That's the way with all women,' M. de Rênal replied with a loud
laugh. 'There's always something needing mending with those machines!'

Though accustomed to this kind of wit, M
^me
de Rênal was shocked by his tone of voice. To distract herself, she
looked at Julien's face; had he been the ugliest of men, he would
still have been attractive to her at that moment.

Careful to copy the habits of people at Court, M. de Rênal took up
residence at Vergy as soon as the first fine days of spring arrived.
This is the village made famous by the tragic adventure of Gabrielle.
^*
A few hundred yards from the picturesque ruins of the old gothic
church, M. de Rênal owns an old château with four turrets and a garden
laid out like the one at the Tuileries,
^*
full of boxwood borders and walks lined with chestnut trees pruned
twice a year. A neighbouring field planted with apple trees provided a
place for walks. There were about ten magnificent walnut trees at the
bottom of the orchard; their great canopy of leaves rose to a height
of some eighty feet.

'Each one of
these cursed walnuts costs me half an acre's worth of harvest,' M. de
Rênal would say whenever his wife admired them. 'Wheat won't grow in
their shade.'

The sight of the countryside struck M
^me
de Rênal as quite new, and she marvelled at it to the point of
ecstasy. The feeling within her made her witty and decisive. Two days
after their arrival in Vergy, when M. de Rênal had gone back to town
on civic business, M
^me
de Rênal hired some workmen at her
own expense. Julien had given her the idea of a little sandy path
which would wind through the orchard and under the great walnut trees,
allowing the children to go for walks in the early morning without
getting their shoes drenched with dew. This idea was carried out less
than twenty-four hours after being thought up. M
^me
de Rênal spent the whole day happily in Julien's company, giving instructions to the workmen.

When the mayor of Verrières returned from town, he was most surprised to find the path finished. M
^me
de Rênal was

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equally surprised to see him back; she had forgotten about his
existence. For two months he talked peevishly about the audacity of
carrying out so important an improvement without consulting him; but M
^me
de Rênal had done it at her own expense, which consoled him a little.

She spent her days running about the orchard with her children, and
chasing after butterflies. They had made big hood-shaped nets out of
pale-coloured gauze to catch the
lepidoptera
with. This was the barbarous name that Julien taught M
^me
de Rênal to use. For she had had M. Godart's excellent study
^*
sent over from Besançon, and Julien told her all about the peculiar habits of these poor creatures.

They were mercilessly stuck with pins on to a large cardboard frame which was also set up by Julien.

This at last provided M
^me
de Rênal and Julien with a topic of conversation, and he was no
longer condemned to suffer the terrible torture inflicted on him by
moments of silence.

They talked
endlessly to each other, and with considerable interest, although
always on wholly innocent subjects. This busy and cheerful life of
activity suited everyone except M
^lle
Elisa, who found
herself overwhelmed with work. 'Not even at carnival time,' she would
say, 'when there's a ball at Verrières, has Madam ever taken so much
trouble over her appearance; she changes dresses two or three times a
day.'

As our intention is to flatter no one, we shall not deny that M
^me
de Rênal, who had lovely skin, had some dresses cut to leave her arms
and bosom very exposed. She had a very good figure, and this way of
dressing suited her wonderfully.

'You've never
been so young
, M
^me
de Rênal,' she was told by her friends from Verrières who came to dine at Vergy. (This is a local expression.)

The strange thing is--and it will scarcely be believed by people like ourselves--that M
^me
de Rênal had no conscious intention in taking so much trouble. It
afforded her pleasure; and without giving any other thought to it, she
did in fact devote all the time she was not catching butterflies with
the children and Julien to dressmaking with Elisa. The only time
she went into Verrières to shop was when she fancied some

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new summer dresses that had just been brought from Mulhouse.

She arrived back in Vergy bringing with her a young woman who was one of her relatives. Since her marriage M
^me
de Rênal had been drawn imperceptibly closer to M
^me
Derville, who had once been her companion at the Sacred Heart.

M
^me
Derville was much amused by what she called her cousin's wild ideas.
'I'd never think of that on my own,' she would say. These sudden
notions, which would have been called impulses in Paris, were
something M
^me
de Rênal felt ashamed of when she was with her husband, as though they looked foolish; but M
^me
Derville's presence encouraged her. At first she imparted her
thoughts to her in a timid voice; but when the two ladies were alone
together for some while, M
^me
de Rênal's mind became far
more adventurous, and a long morning on their own passed in a flash,
leaving the two friends in ebullient spirits. On this visit, the
sensible M
^me
Derville found her cousin much less ebullient and far happier.

Julien for his part had lived like a real child since the beginning
of his stay in the country, as happy chasing after butterflies as his
young charges were. After so much constraint and careful scheming, now
that he was alone, away from the public gaze, and instinctively quite
unafraid of M
^me
de Rênal, he gave himself up to the sheer
pleasure of living, which is so intense at that age, and when you're
in the most beautiful mountains in the world.

From the very moment she arrived, it seemed to Julien that M
^me
Derville was a friend. He lost no time in showing her the view from
the far end of the new path under the great walnuts; it is indeed
equal if not superior to the very finest that Switzerland or the
Italian lakes can offer. If you go up the steep slope which starts a
few feet from that spot, you soon find yourself overlooking deep
ravines with oak woods growing along their edges, which extend almost
to the river itself. It was to the summit of these sheer crags that
Julien, feeling happy, free and even something more--lord of the
household--would take the two ladies, and delight in their admiration
for these sublime views.

'I find it just like the music of Mozart,' said M
^me
Derville.

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His brothers' jealousy and the presence of a despotic and illtempered
father had spoilt Julien's enjoyment of the countryside round Verrières.
At Vergy he had no such bitter memories, and for the first time in his
life he found himself with no enemies. When M. de Rênal was in town,
which was a frequent occurrence, he plucked up the courage to read.
Soon, instead of reading at night, taking care at that to conceal his
lamp inside an overturned vase, he felt able to indulge in sleep.
During the day, between the children's lessons, he would come to these
rocks with the book which alone ruled his conduct and was the object
of his delight. It was at once a source of happiness, ecstasy and
consolation to him in moments of discouragement.

Certain things which Napoleon says about women, and a number of
passages discussing the merits of novels fashionable during his reign,
now gave Julien for the very first time the kind of thoughts that any
other young man of his age would have long since been entertaining.

The summer heatwave arrived. They took to spending their evenings
beneath an enormous lime tree just outside the house. It was totally
dark there. One evening, Julien was talking excitedly, deriving
intense enjoyment from the pleasure of expressing himself eloquently,
and to young women too. As he gesticulated, he touched M
^me
de Rênal's hand which was resting on the back of one of those painted wooden chairs which are often put in gardens.

The hand was withdrawn very soon; but Julien decided it was his
duty
to ensure that this hand would not be withdrawn when he touched it.
The idea of a duty to carry out, and a risk of suffering ridicule or
rather a feeling of inferiority if he failed in it, immediately
removed all pleasure from his heart.

-55-

Guérin's painting of Dido: a charming sketch.

STROMBECK
^*

HE had a strange look in his eyes the next day when he met M
^me
de Rênal; he observed her as if she were an enemy he was going to
have to fight. This look, so different from his expression the day
before, caused M
^me
de Rênal to lose her head: she had been
indulgent towards him, and he seemed angry. She could not tear her
gaze away from his.

The presence of M
^me
Derville allowed Julien to say less and spend more time on what was
preoccupying him. His sole concern throughout the whole of that day
was to fortify himself by reading the work of inspiration which always
retempered his soul.

He cut short the children's lessons considerably, and later, when M
^me
de Rênal's presence served to recall him to the single-minded pursuit
of his personal glory, he decided it was absolutely essential that
she should allow her hand to remain in his that very evening.

As the sun went down and brought the decisive moment nearer, it
caused Julien's heart to beat strangely. Night fell. He observed, with
a sense of joy which took an enormous weight off his chest, that it
was going to be a very dark one. The sky was laden with big clouds
driven by a sultry wind, and it seemed to portend a storm. The two
ladies remained out walking very late. Everything they did that
evening seemed strange to Julien. They were enjoying this weather,
which for some delicate souls seems to increase the pleasure of
affection.

Eventually they all sat down, with M
^me
de Rênal next to Julien, and M
^me
Derville by her friend. Julien's mind was quite taken up with what he
was going to attempt, and he could find nothing to say. The
conversation flagged.

Will I be as fearful and as wretched when my first duel

-56-

comes along? Julien wondered, for he was too wary both of himself and of others to fail to perceive his own state of mind.

In his mortal anguish, any form of danger would have seemed
preferable to him. How many times he longed for some sudden business
to crop up which would oblige M
^me
de Rênal to return to the
house and leave the garden! The effort which Julien had to make to
control himself was too violent for his voice not to be profoundly
affected by it. Soon M
^me
de Rênal's voice became unsteady
too, but Julien did not notice. The fearful battle being waged by his
sense of duty against his nervousness was too painful to leave him in a
state to observe anything besides himself. The chateau clock had just
struck a quarter to ten, and he had still not ventured anything.
Outraged at his own cowardice, Julien declared to himself: At the
precise moment when ten o'clock strikes, I shall carry out what I have
been promising myself all day I shall do this evening, or else I
shall go up to my room and blow my brains out.

After a final period of anxious waiting, during which Julien was
almost beside himself from excess of emotion, ten strokes rang out
from the clock above his head. Each chime of the fateful bell
reverberated in his chest, causing a kind of physical reaction there.

At last, as the final stroke of ten was still ringing, he reached out his hand and took M
^me
de Rênal's, which she immediately withdrew. Not quite knowing what he
was about, Julien grasped it again. Although thoroughly moved
himself, he was struck by the icy coldness of the hand he was taking.
He squeezed it with convulsive strength; there was one last attempt
to remove it from his grasp, but in the end the hand remained in his.

Happiness flooded over him; not that he was in love with M
^me
de Rênal--it was just that a fearful torture had ceased. To prevent M
^me
Derville from noticing anything, he felt it incumbent upon him to speak; his voice was now ringing and loud. M
^me
de Rênal's, on the other hand, betrayed so much emotion that her
friend thought she was ill and suggested going indoors. Julien sensed
the danger at once: If M
^me
de Rênal goes in to the drawing-room, I shall be back in the terrible situation I've

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