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The Double Life. Гастон Леру
Читать онлайн.Название The Double Life
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isbn 4064066168131
Автор произведения Гастон Леру
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
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CHAPTER I
M. Théophraste Longuet Wishes to Inform Him-self and Visits Historical Monuments
THE strange adventures of M. Théophraste Longuet, which ended so tragically, originated in a visit to the prison of the Conciergerie, on the 28th of June, 1899. Therefore this history is modern; but the writer would say that, having read and examined all the papers and writings of M. Théophraste Longuet, its recentness does not detract from its sensational character.
When M. Longuet rang the bell of the Conciergerie he was accompanied by his wife, Marceline, and M. Adolphe Lecamus. The latter was a close friend. It was his physique that had attracted M. Longuet. He was not handsome, but was tall and well built, and every movement showed that strength which M. Longuet lacked. His forehead was broad and convex, his eyebrows were heavy and straight. He had a habit of every now and then lifting them gracefully to express his disdain of others and his confidence in himself. His grey eyes twinkled under near-sighted spectacles, and the straight nose, the proud arch of the underlip, surmounted by a dark, flowing mustache, the square outline of his chin and his amaranthine complexion, all combined to accentuate his strong appearance.
He had been employed as postmaster at Turin, and had traveled considerably. He had crossed the sea. This was also an attraction to M. Longuet, who had never crossed anything, unless it was the Seine.
M. Longuet had been a rubber stamp manufacturer, but had made sufficient money to retire at an early age. He was the antithesis of Adolphe in build and character. His face showed no marked intelligence, and his slight build lent almost insignificance to his appearance. He had, however, imagination, and he used to laughingly say to Adolphe: “Even if I haven’t traveled, I run just as much risk in walking the streets of Paris as one who crosses the ocean in ships. Might not houses collapse or pots of flowers fall on one’s head?” Thus he lived a monotonous existence, relieved only by the morbid workings of his mind.
Before his retirement he had worked hard and had little time to study, therefore, now he had leisure, it occurred to him to occupy his time in improving his mind. It was with this intention that we find him visiting the various buildings of historic interest around Paris.
On ringing the bell of the Conciergerie the iron door turned heavily on its hinges. A warden shaking the keys demanded of Théophraste his permit. He had anticipated this and had received it that morning from the Prefect of Police. He tendered it with satisfaction, looking around at his companion with the confidence of anticipations realized.
The gate-keeper turned the little company over to the Chief Warden, who was passing at the time. Marceline was much impressed, and as she leaned on Adolphe’s arm, thought of Marie Antoinette’s dungeon, the Grevin Museum, and all the mysteries of this famous prison. The Chief Warden said: “Are you French?” to which Théophraste replied, laughingly, for he was typically French: “Do we look like English people?”
“This is the first time,” explained the Chief Warden, “that any French people have asked permission to visit the Conciergerie. French people are indifferent to things of interest in their own country.” “They are wrong, sir,” replied Théophraste, wiping his spectacles. “In the monuments of the past we have foundations of the future.” This idea rather pleased him, and he looked for approval to Adolphe and Marceline. He continued following the Warden. “As for me, I am an old Parisian and would have visited all these places of interest long ago but for my work. I have worked hard at my trade and the only leisure I got was when I went to bed. That time is over now, sir, and now is the time for me to educate myself,” and he struck the century-old pavement with the end of his green umbrella.
Passing a small door and a large wicket, they descended some steps and were in the guard-room. The first thing to draw attention made Adolphe laugh, Marceline blush, and Théophraste turn in disgust. It was the capital of a Gothic column carved to symbolize the story of Abelard and Heloise. Abelard was pleading with the Carion Fulbert for his clemency, while the latter was taking the child from Heloise.
“It is strange,” said M. Longuet, “that in the name of art the Government should tolerate such obscenities. That capital is a disgrace to the Conciergerie and should be removed.” M. Lecamus did not agree, and said: “Many things are excusable in art if they are done in the right spirit.”
However, the subject was dropped and they were soon interested in other parts of these