The Red and the Black: A Chronicle of 1830
letter, Julien took up his story. He regained a little of his
self-control as he spoke of his past life, which compared with what he
was now experiencing interested him so little. His attention was now
concentrated on the final outcome of of his visit. "You will have to
go," were the curt words he heard from time to time.
"What a disgrace for me if I am dismissed. My remorse will embitter all
my life," he said to himself, "she will never write to me. God knows
when I shall come back to this part of the country." From this moment
Julien's heart became rapidly oblivious of all the heavenly delights of
his present position.
Seated as he was close to a woman whom he adored and practically
clasping her in his arms in this room, the scene of his former
happiness, amid a deep obscurity, seeing quite clearly as he did that
she had just started crying, and feeling that she was sobbing from the
heaving of her chest, he was unfortunate enough to turn into a cold
diplomatist, nearly as cold as in those days when in the courtyard
of the seminary he found himself the butt of some malicious joke on
the part of one of his comrades who was stronger than he was. Julien
protracted his story by talking of his unhappy life since his departure
from Verrières.
"So," said Madame de Rênal to herself, "after a year's absence and
deprived almost entirely of all tokens of memory while I myself was
forgetting him, he only thought of the happy days that he had had in
Verrières." Her sobs redoubled. Julien saw the success of his story.
He realised that he must play his last card. He abruptly mentioned a
letter he had just received from Paris.
"I have taken leave of my Lord Bishop."
"What! you are not going back to Besançon? You are leaving us for ever?"
"Yes," answered Julien resolutely, "yes, I am leaving a country where I
have been forgotten even by the woman whom I loved more than anyone in
my life; I am leaving it and I shall never see it again. I am going to
Paris."
"You are going to Paris, dear," exclaimed Madame de Rênal.
Her voice was almost choked by her tears and showed the extremity of
her trouble. Julien had need of this encouragement. He was on the point
of executing a manœuvre which might decide everything against him; and
up to the time of this exclamation he could not tell what effect he was
producing as he was unable to see. He no longer hesitated. The fear of
remorse gave him complete control over himself. He coldly added as he
got up.
"Yes, madame, I leave you for ever. May you be happy. Adieu."
He moved some steps towards the window. He began to open it. Madame de
Rênal rushed to him and threw herself into his arms. So it was in this
way that, after a dialogue lasting three hours, Julien obtained what he
desired so passionately during the first two hours.
Madame de Rênal's return to her tender feelings and this overshadowing
of her remorse would have been a divine happiness had they come a
little earlier; but, as they had been obtained by artifice, they were
simply a pleasure. Julien insisted on lighting the night-light in spite
of his mistress's opposition.
"Do you wish me then," he said to her "to have no recollection of
having seen you. Is the love in those charming eyes to be lost to me
for ever? Is the whiteness of that pretty hand to remain invisible?
Remember that perhaps I am leaving you for a very long time."
Madame de Rênal could refuse him nothing. His argument made her melt
into tears. But the dawn was beginning to throw into sharp relief the
outlines of the pine trees on the mountain east of Verrières. Instead
of going away Julien, drunk with pleasure, asked Madame de Rênal to let
him pass the day in her room and leave the following night.
"And why not?" she answered. "This fatal relapse robs me of all my
respect and will mar all my life," and she pressed him to her heart.
"My husband is no longer the same; he has suspicions, he believes I led
him the way I wanted in all this business, and shows great irritation
against me. If he hears the slightest noise I shall be ruined, he will
hound me out like the unhappy woman that I am."
"Ah here we have a phrase of M. Chélan's," said Julien "you would not
have talked like that before my cruel departure to the seminary; in
those days you used to love me."
Julien was rewarded for the frigidity which he put into those words. He
saw his love suddenly forget the danger which her husband's presence
compelled her to run, in thinking of the much greater danger of seeing
Julien doubt her love. The daylight grew rapidly brighter and vividly
illuminated the room. Julien savoured once more all the deliciousness
of pride, when he saw this charming woman in his arms and almost at his
feet, the only woman whom he had ever loved, and who had been entirely
absorbed only a few hours before by her fear of a terrible God and her
devotion to her duties. Resolutions, fortified by a year's persuasion,
had failed to hold out against his courage.
They soon heard a noise in the house. A matter that Madame de Rênal had
not thought of began to trouble her.
"That wicked Elisa will come into the room. What are we to do with this
enormous ladder?" she said to her sweetheart, "where are we to hide it?
I will take it to the loft," she exclaimed suddenly half playfully.
"But you will have to pass through the servants' room," said Julien in
astonishment.
"I will leave the ladder in the corridor and will call the servant and
send him on an errand."
"Think of some explanation to have ready in the event of a servant
passing the ladder and noticing it in the corridor."
"Yes, my angel," said Madame de Rênal giving him a kiss "as for you,
dear, remember to hide under the bed pretty quickly if Elisa enters
here during my absence."
Julien was astonished by this sudden gaiety--"So" he thought, "the
approach of a real danger instead of troubling her gives her back
her spirits before she forgets her remorse. Truly a superior woman.
Yes, that's a heart over which it is glorious to reign." Julien was
transported with delight.
Madame de Rênal took the ladder, which was obviously too heavy for her.
Julien went to her help. He was admiring that elegant figure which was
so far from betokening any strength when she suddenly seized the ladder
without assistance and took it up as if it had been a chair. She took
it rapidly into the corridor of the third storey where she laid it
alongside the wall. She called a servant, and in order to give him time
to dress himself, went up into the dovecot.
Five minutes later, when she came back to the corridor, she found no
signs of the ladder. What had happened to it? If Julien had been out
of the house she would not have minded the danger in the least. But
supposing her husband were to see the ladder just now, the incident
might be awful. Madame de Rênal ran all over the house.
Madame de Rênal finally discovered the ladder under the roof where the
servant had carried it and even hid it.
"What does it matter what happens in twenty-four hours," she thought,
"when Julien will be gone?"
She had a vague idea that she ought to take leave of life but what
mattered her duty? He was restored to her after a separation which she
had thought eternal. She was seeing him again and the efforts he had
made to reach her showed the extent of his love.
"What shall I say to my husband," she said to him. "If the servant
tells him he found this ladder?" She was pensive for a moment. "They
will need twenty-four hours to discover the peasant who sold it
to you." And she threw herself into Julien's arms and clasped him
convulsively.
"Oh, if I could only die like this," she cried covering him with
kisses. "But you mustn't die of starvation," she said with a smile.
"Come, I will first hide you in Madame Derville's room which is always
locked." She went and watched at the other end of the corridor and
Julien ran in. "Mind you don't try and open if any one knocks," she
said as she locked him in. "Anyway it would only be a frolic of the
children as they play together."
"Get them to come into the garden under the window," said Julien, "so
that I may have the pleasure of seeing them. Make them speak."
"Yes, yes," cried Madame de Rênal to him as she went away. She soon
returned with oranges, biscuits and a bottle of Malaga wine. She had
not been able to steal any bread.
"What is your husband doing?" said Julien.
"He is writing out the figures of the bargains he is going to make with
the peasants."
But eight o'clock had struck and they were making a lot of noise in the
house. If Madame de Rênal failed to put in an appearance, they would
look for her all over the house. She was obliged to leave him. Soon she
came back, in defiance of all prudence, bringing him a cup of coffee.
She was frightened lest he should die of starvation.
She managed after breakfast to bring the children under the window of
Madame Derville's room. He thought they had grown a great deal, but
they had begun to look common, or else his ideas had changed. Madame de
Rênal spoke to them about Julien. The elder answered in an affectionate
tone and regretted his old tutor, but he found that the younger
children had almost forgotten him.
M. de Rênal did not go out that morning; he was going up and downstairs
incessantly engaged in bargaining with some peasants to whom he was
selling potatoes.
Madame de Rênal did not have an instant to give to her prisoner until
dinner-time. When the bell had been rung and dinner had been served,
it occurred to her to steal a plate of warm soup for him. As she
noiselessly approached the door of the room which he occupied, she
found herself face to face with the servant who had hid the ladder
in the morning. At the time he too was going noiselessly along the
corridor, as though listening for something. The servant took himself
off in some confusion.
Madame de Rênal boldly entered Julien's room. The news of this
encounter made him shudder.
"You are frightened," she said to him, "but I would brave all the
dangers in the world without flinching. There is only one thing I fear,
and that is the moment when I shall be alone after you have left," and
she left him and ran downstairs.
"Ah," thought Julien ecstatically, "remorse is the only danger which
this sublime soul is afraid of."
At last evening came. Monsieur de Rênal went to the Casino.
His wife had given out that she was suffering from an awful headache.
She went to her room, hastened to dismiss Elisa and quickly got up in
order to let Julien out.
He was literally starving. Madame de Rênal went to the pantry to fetch
some bread. Julien heard a loud cry. Madame de Rênal came back and told
him that when she went to the dark pantry and got near the cupboard
where they kept the bread, she had touched a woman's arm as she
stretched out her hand. It was Elisa who had uttered the cry Julien had
heard.
"What was she doing there?"
"Stealing some sweets or else spying on us," said Madame de Rênal with
complete indifference, "but luckily I found a pie and a big loaf of
bread."
"But what have you got there?" said Julien pointing to the pockets of
her apron.
Madame de Rênal had forgotten that they had been filled with bread
since dinner.
Julien clasped her in his arms with the most lively passion. She had
never seemed to him so beautiful. "I could not meet a woman of greater
character even at Paris," he said confusedly to himself. She combined
all the clumsiness of a woman who was but little accustomed to paying
attentions of this kind, with all the genuine courage of a person who
is only afraid of dangers of quite a different sphere and quite a
different kind of awfulness.
While Julien was enjoying his supper with a hearty appetite and his