was seated； in a naive attitude； like the least artful woman in
existence； soft and gentle； full of a majestic serenity。 What an abyss
is human nature！ Before beginning a conversation； the baron looked
alternately at the wife and at the husband。 How many were the
reflections he made！ He recomposed the 〃Night Thoughts〃 of Young in a
second。 And yet the music was sounding through the salons； the light
was pouring from a thousand candles。 It was a banker's ball；one of
those insolent festivals by means of which the world of solid gold
endeavored to sneer at the gold…embossed salons where the faubourg
Saint…Germain met and laughed； not foreseeing the day when the bank
would invade the Luxembourg and take its seat upon the throne。 The
conspirators were now dancing； indifferent to coming bankruptcies；
whether of Power or of the Bank。 The gilded salons of the Baron de
Nucingen were gay with that peculiar animation that the world of
Paris； apparently joyous at any rate； gives to its fetes。 There； men
of talent communicate their wit to fools； and fools communicate that
air of enjoyment that characterizes them。 By means of this exchange
all is liveliness。 But a ball in Paris always resembles fireworks to a
certain extent； wit； coquetry； and pleasure sparkle and go out like
rockets。 The next day all present have forgotten their wit； their
coquetry； their pleasure。
〃Ah！〃 thought Auguste； by way of conclusion； 〃women are what the
vidame says they are。 Certainly all those dancing here are less
irreproachable actually than Madame Jules appears to be； and yet
Madame Jules went to the rue Soly！〃
The rue Soly was like an illness to him； the very word shrivelled his
heart。
〃Madame； do you ever dance？〃 he said to her。
〃This is the third time you have asked me that question this winter；〃
she answered； smiling。
〃But perhaps you have never answered it。〃
〃That is true。〃
〃I knew very well that you were false； like other women。〃
Madame Jules continued to smile。
〃Listen； monsieur；〃 she said； 〃if I told you the real reason； you
would think it ridiculous。 I do not think it false to abstain from
telling things that the world would laugh at。〃
〃All secrets demand； in order to be told； a friendship of which I am
no doubt unworthy； madame。 But you cannot have any but noble secrets；
do you think me capable of jesting on noble things？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said； 〃you； like all the rest； laugh at our purest
sentiments； you calumniate them。 Besides； I have no secrets。 I have
the right to love my husband in the face of all the world； and I say
so；I am proud of it； and if you laugh at me when I tell you that I
dance only with him； I shall have a bad opinion of your heart。〃
〃Have you never danced since your marriage with any one but your
husband？〃
〃Never。 His arm is the only one on which I have leaned； I have never
felt the touch of another man。〃
〃Has your physician never felt your pulse？〃
〃Now you are laughing at me。〃
〃No； madame； I admire you； because I comprehend you。 But you let a man
hear your voice； you let yourself be seen； youin short； you permit
our eyes to admire you〃
〃Ah！〃 she said； interrupting him； 〃that is one of my griefs。 Yes； I
wish it were possible for a married woman to live secluded with her
husband； as a mistress lives with her lover； for then〃
〃Then why were you； two hours ago； on foot； disguised； in the rue
Soly？〃
〃The rue Soly； where is that？〃
And her pure voice gave no sign of any emotion； no feature of her face
quivered； she did not blush； she remained calm。
〃What！ you did not go up to the second floor of a house in the rue des
Vieux…Augustins at the corner of the rue Soly？ You did not have a
hackney…coach waiting near by？ You did not return in it to the flower…
shop in the rue Richelieu； where you bought the feathers that are now
in your hair？〃
〃I did not leave my house this evening。〃
As she uttered that lie she was smiling and imperturbable； she played
with her fan； but if any one had passed a hand down her back they
would； perhaps； have found it moist。 At that instant Auguste
remembered the instructions of the vidame。
〃Then it was some one who strangely resembled you；〃 he said； with a
credulous air。
〃Monsieur；〃 she replied； 〃if you are capable of following a woman and
detecting her secrets； you will allow me to say that it is a wrong； a
very wrong thing； and I do you the honor to say that I disbelieve
you。〃
The baron turned away； placed himself before the fireplace and seemed
thoughtful。 He bent his head； but his eyes were covertly fixed on
Madame Jules； who； not remembering the reflections in the mirror； cast
two or three glances at him that were full of terror。 Presently she
made a sign to her husband and rising took his arm to walk about the
salon。 As she passed before Monsieur de Maulincour； who at that moment
was speaking to a friend； he said in a loud voice； as if in reply to a
remark： 〃That woman will certainly not sleep quietly this night。〃
Madame Jules stopped； gave him an imposing look which expressed
contempt； and continued her way； unaware that another look； if
surprised by her husband； might endanger not only her happiness but
the lives of two men。 Auguste； frantic with anger； which he tried to
smother in the depths of his soul； presently left the house； swearing
to penetrate to the heart of the mystery。 Before leaving； he sought
Madame Jules； to look at her again； but she had disappeared。
What a drama cast into that young head so eminently romantic； like all
who have not known love in the wide extent which they give to it。 He
adored Madame Jules under a new aspect； he loved her now with the fury
of jealousy and the frenzied anguish of hope。 Unfaithful to her
husband； the woman became common。 Auguste could now give himself up to
the joys of successful love； and his imagination opened to him a
career of pleasures。 Yes； he had lost the angel； but he had found the
most delightful of demons。 He went to bed； building castles in the
air； excusing Madame Jules by some romantic fiction in which he did
not believe。 He resolved to devote himself wholly； from that day
forth； to a search for the causes； motives； and keynote of this
mystery。 It was a tale to read； or better still； a drama to be played；
in which he had a part。
CHAPTER II
FERRAGUS
A fine thing is the task of a spy； when performed for one's own
benefit and in the interests of a passion。 Is it not giving ourselves
the pleasure of a thief and a rascal while continuing honest men？ But
there is another side to it； we must resign ourselves to boil with
anger； to roar with impatience； to freeze our feet in the mud； to be
numbed； and roasted； and torn by false hopes。 We must go； on the faith
of a mere indication； to a vague object； miss our end； curse our luck；
improvise to ourselves elegies； dithyrambics； exclaim idiotically
before inoffensive pedestrians who observe us； knock over old apple…
women and their baskets； run hither and thither； stand on guard
beneath a window； make a thousand suppositions。 But； after all； it is
a chase； a hunt； a hunt in Paris； a hunt with all its chances； minus
dogs and guns and the tally…ho！ Nothing compares with it but the life
of gamblers。 But it needs a heart big with love and vengeance to
ambush itself in Paris； like a tiger waiting to spring upon its prey；
and to enjoy the chances and contingencies of Paris； by adding one
special interest to the many that abound there。 But for this we need a
many…sided soulfor must we not live in a thousand passions； a
thousand sentiments？
Auguste de Maulincour flung himself into this ardent existence
passionately； for he felt all its pleasures and all its misery。 He
went disguised about Paris； watching at the corners of the rue Pagevin
and the rue des Vieux…Augustins。 He hurried like a hunter from the rue
de Menars to the rue Soly； and back from the rue Soly to the rue de
Menars； without obtaining either the vengeance or the knowledge which
would punish or reward such cares； such efforts； such wiles。 But he
had not yet reached that impatience which wrings our very entrails and
makes us sweat； he roamed in hope； believing that Madame Jules would
only refrain for a few days from revisiting the place where she knew
she had been detected。 He devoted the first days therefore； to a
careful study of the secrets of the street。 A novice at such work； he
dared not question either the porter or the shoemaker of the house to
which Madame Jules had gone； but he managed to obtain a post of
observation in a house directly opposite to the mysterious apartment。
He studied the ground； trying to reconcile the conflicting demands of
prudence； impatience； love； and secrecy。
Early in the month of March； while busy with plans by which he
expected to strike a decisive blow； he left his post about four in the
afternoon； after one of those patient watches from which he had
learned nothing。 He was on his way to his own house whither a matter
relating to his military service called him； when he was overtaken in
the rue Coquilliere by one of those heavy showers which instantly
flood the gutters； while each drop of rain rings loudly in the puddles
of the roadway。 A pedestrian under these circumstances is forced to
stop short and take refuge in a shop or cafe if he is rich enough to
pay for the forced hospitality； or； if in poorer circumstances； under
a /porte…cochere/； that haven of paupers or shabbily dressed persons。
Why have none of our painters ever attempted to reproduce the
physiognomies of a swarm of Parisians； grouped； under stress of
weather； in the damp /porte…cochere/ of a building？ First； there's the
musing philosophical pedestrian； who observes with interest all he
sees；whether it be the stripes made by the rain on the gray
background of the atmosphere （a species of chasing not unlike the
capricious threads of spun glass）； or the whirl of white water which
the wind is driving like a luminous dust along the roofs； or the
fitful disgorgements of the gutter…pipes； sparkling and foaming； in
short； the thousand nothings to be admired and studied with delight by
loungers； in spite of the porter's broom which pretends to be sweepin