condensed novels-第17部分
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I instantly changed my tactics; and endeavored to embrace him。 He
kicked me twice; violently。 I begged permission to kiss madame's
hand。 He replied by throwing me down stairs。
I am in bed with my head bound up; and beef…steaks upon my eyes;
but still confident and buoyant。 I have not lost faith in
Macchiavelli。 Tra la la! as they sing in the opera。 I kiss
everybody's hands。
CHAPTER V。
DR。 DIGGS'S STATEMENT。
My name is David Diggs。 I am a surgeon; living at No。 9 Tottenham
Court。 On the 15th of June; 1854; I was called to see an elderly
gentleman lodging on the Kent Road。 Found him highly excited; with
strong febrile symptoms; pulse 120; increasing。 Repeated
incoherently what I judged to be the popular form of a conundrum。
On closer examination found acute hydrocephalus and both lobes of
the brain rapidly filling with water。 In consultation with an
eminent phrenologist; it was further discovered that all the organs
were more or less obliterated; except that of Comparison。 Hence
the patient was enabled to only distinguish the most common points
of resemblance between objects; without drawing upon other
faculties; such as Ideality or Language; for assistance。 Later in
the day found him sinking;being evidently unable to carry the
most ordinary conundrum to a successful issue。 Exhibited Tinct。
Val。; Ext。 Opii; and Camphor; and prescribed quiet and emollients。
On the 17th the patient was missing。
CHAPTER LAST。
STATEMENT OF THE PUBLISHER。
On the 18th of June; Mr。 Wilkie Collins left a roll of manuscript
with us for publication; without title or direction; since which
time he has not been heard from。 In spite of the care of the
proof…readers; and valuable literary assistance; it is feared that
the continuity of the story has been destroyed by some accidental
misplacing of chapters during its progress。 How and what chapters
are so misplaced; the publisher leaves to an indulgent public to
discover。
N N。
BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE。
Mademoiselle; I swear to you that I love you。
You who read these pages。 You who turn your burning eyes upon
these wordswords that I trace Ah; Heaven! the thought maddens
me。
I will be calm。 I will imitate the reserve of the festive
Englishman; who wears a spotted handkerchief which he calls a
Belchio; who eats biftek; and caresses a bulldog。 I will subdue
myself like him。
Ha! Poto…beer! All rightGoddam!
Or; I will conduct myself as the free…born Americanthe gay
Brother Jonathan! I will whittle me a stick。 I will whistle to
myself 〃Yankee Doodle;〃 and forget my passion in excessive
expectoration。
Hoho!wake snakes and walk chalks。
The world is divided into two great divisions;Paris and the
provinces。 There is but one Paris。 There are several provinces;
among which may be numbered England; America; Russia; and Italy。
N N。 was a Parisian。
But N N。 did not live in Paris。 Drop a Parisian in the provinces;
and you drop a part of Paris with him。 Drop him in Senegambia; and
in three days he will give you an omelette soufflee; or a pate de
foie gras; served by the neatest of Senegambian filles; whom he
will call Mademoiselle。 In three weeks he will give you an opera。
N N。 was not dropped in Senegambia; but in San Francisco;quite as
awkward。
They find gold in San Francisco; but they don't understand gilding。
N N。 existed three years in this place。 He became bald on the top
of his head; as all Parisians do。 Look down from your box at the
Opera Comique; Mademoiselle; and count the bald crowns of the fast
young men in the pit。 Ahyou tremble! They show where the arrows
of love have struck and glanced off。
N N。 was also near…sighted; as all Parisians finally become。 This
is a gallant provision of Nature to spare them the mortification of
observing that their lady friends grow old。 After a certain age
every woman is handsome to a Parisian。
One day; N N。 was walking down Washington street。 Suddenly he
stopped。
He was standing before the door of a mantuamaker。 Beside the
counter; at the farther extremity of the shop; stood a young and
elegantly formed woman。 Her face was turned from N N。 He entered。
With a plausible excuse; and seeming indifference; he gracefully
opened conversation with the mantuamaker as only a Parisian can。
But he had to deal with a Parisian。 His attempts to view the
features of the fair stranger by the counter were deftly combated
by the shop…woman。 He was obliged to retire。
N N。 went home and lost his appetite。 He was haunted by the
elegant basque and graceful shoulders of the fair unknown; during
the whole night。
The next day he sauntered by the mantuamaker。 Ah! Heavens! A
thrill ran through his frame; and his fingers tingled with a
delicious electricity。 The fair inconnue was there! He raised his
hat gracefully。 He was not certain; but he thought that a slight
motion of her faultless bonnet betrayed recognition。 He would have
wildly darted into the shop; but just then the figure of the
mantuamaker appeared in the doorway。
Did Monsieur wish anything?
Misfortune! Desperation。 N N。 purchased a bottle of Prussic acid;
a sack of charcoal; and a quire of pink note…paper; and returned
home。 He wrote a letter of farewell to the closely fitting basque;
and opened the bottle of Prussic acid。
Some one knocked at his door。 It was a Chinaman; with his weekly
linen。
These Chinese are docile; but not intelligent。 They are ingenious;
but not creative。 They are cunning in expedients; but deficient in
tact。 In love they are simply barbarous。 They purchase their
wives openly; and not constructively by attorney。 By offering
small sums for their sweethearts; they degrade the value of the
sex。
Nevertheless; N N。 felt he was saved。 He explained all to the
faithful Mongolian; and exhibited the letter he had written。 He
implored him to deliver it。
The Mongolian assented。 The race are not cleanly or sweet…savored;
but N N。 fell upon his neck。 He embraced him with one hand; and
closed his nostrils with the other。 Through him; he felt he
clasped the close…fitting basque。
The next day was one of agony and suspense。 Evening came; but no
Mercy。 N N。 lit the charcoal。 But; to compose his nerves; he
closed his door and first walked mildly up and down Montgomery
Steeet。 When he returned; he found the faithful Mongolian on the
steps。
All lity!
These Chinese are not accurate in their pronunciation。 They avoid
the r; like the English nobleman。
N N。 gasped for breath。 He leaned heavily against the Chinaman。
Then you have seen her; Ching Long?
Yes。 All lity。 She cum。 Top side of house。
The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs; and chuckled。
She hereimpossible! Ah; Heaven! do I dream?
Yes。 All lity;top side of house。 Good by; John。
This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian。 It is
equivalent to our au revoir。
N N。 gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant。
He placed his hand on his throbbing heart。 She here;alone
beneath this roof。 O Heavens; what happiness!
But how? Torn from her home。 Ruthlessly dragged; perhaps; from
her evening devotions; by the hands of a relentless barbarian。
Could she forgive him?
He dashed frantically up the stairs。 He opened the door。 She was
standing beside his couch with averted face。
A strange giddiness overtook him。 He sank upon his knees at the
threshold。
Pardon; pardon。 My angel; can you forgive me?
A terrible nausea now seemed added to the fearful giddiness。 His
utterance grew thick and sluggish。
Speak; speak; enchantress。 Forgiveness is all I ask。 My Love;
my Life!
She did not answer。 He staggered to his feet。 As he rose; his
eyes fell on the pan of burning charcoal。 A terrible suspicion
flashed across his mind。 This giddiness;this nausea。 The
ignorance of the barbarian。 This silence。 O merciful heavens! she
was dying!
He crawled toward her。 He touched her。 She fell forward with a
lifeless sound upon the floor。 He uttered a piercing shriek; and
threw himself beside her。
* * * * *
A file of gendarmes; accompanied by the Chef Burke; found him the
next morning lying lifeless upon the floor。 They laughed
brutally;these cruel minions of the law;and disengaged his arm
from the waist of the wooden dummy which they had come to reclaim
for the mantuamaker。
Emptying a few bucketfuls of water over his form; they finally
succeeded in robbing him; not only of his mistress; but of that
Death he had coveted without her。
Ah! we live in a strange world; Messieurs。
FANTINE。
AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO。
PROLOGUE。
As long as there shall exist three paradoxes; a moral Frenchman; a
religious Atheist; and a believing sceptic; so long; in fact; as
booksellers shall waitsay twenty…five yearsfor a new gospel; so
long as paper shall remain cheap and ink three sous a bottle; I
have no hesitation in saying that such books as these are not
utterly profitless。
VICTOR HUGO。
I。
To be good is to be queer。 What is a good man? Bishop Myriel。
My friend; you will possibly object to this。 You will say you know
what a good man is。 Perhaps you will say your clergyman is a good
man; for instance。
Bah! you are mistaken; you are an Englishman; and an Englishman is
a beast。
Englishmen think they are moral when they are only serious。 These
Englishmen also wear ill…shaped hats; and dress horribly!
Bah! they are canaille。
Still; Bishop Myriel was a good man;quite as good as you。 Better
than you; in fact。
One day M。 Myriel was in Paris。 This angel used to walk about the
streets like any other man。 He was not proud; though fine…looking。
Well; three gamins de Paris called him bad names。 Says one:
〃Ah; mon Dieu! there goes a priest; look out for your eggs and
chickens!〃
What did this good man do? He called to them kindly。
〃My children;〃 said he; 〃this is clearly not your fault。 I
recognize in this insult and irreverence only the fault of your
immediate progenitors。 Let us pray for your immediate
progenitors。〃
They knelt