French fiction -- Translations into English; Paris (France) -- Fiction
For a moment he wondered whether he should not leap on the platform
and kill her. Red flames shot before his eyes, and he was blinded with
frenzy.
Then, suddenly, shame and disgust seized upon him and he rushed from
the hall, overturning chairs and tables, pursued by the terror and
imprecations of all those scandalized bourgeois.
CHAPTER XXIV. SIDONIE’S VENGEANCE
Never had Sigismond Planus returned home so late without giving his
sister warning, during the twenty years and more that he had lived at
Montrouge. Consequently Mademoiselle Planus was greatly worried. Living
in community of ideas and of everything else with her brother, having
but one mind for herself and for him, the old maid had felt for several
months the rebound of all the cashier’s anxiety and indignation; and
the effect was still noticeable in her tendency to tremble and
become agitated on slight provocation. At the slightest tardiness on
Sigismond’s part, she would think:
“Ah! mon Dieu! If only nothing has happened at the factory!”
That is the reason why on the evening in question, when the hens and
chickens were all asleep on their perches, and the dinner had been
removed untouched, Mademoiselle Planus was sitting in the little
ground-floor living-room, waiting, in great agitation.
At last, about eleven o’clock, some one rang. A timid, melancholy ring,
in no wise resembling Sigismond’s vigorous pull.
“Is it you, Monsieur Planus?” queried the old lady from behind the door.
It was he; but he was not alone. A tall, bent old man accompanied him,
and, as they entered, bade her good-evening in a slow, hesitating voice.
Not till then did Mademoiselle Planus recognize Risler Aine, whom she
had not seen since the days of the New Year’s calls, that is to say,
some time before the dramas at the factory. She could hardly restrain an
exclamation of pity; but the grave taciturnity of the two men told her
that she must be silent.
“Mademoiselle Planus, my sister, you will put clean sheets on my bed.
Our friend Risler does us the honor to pass the night with us.”
The sister hastened away to prepare the bedroom with an almost
affectionate zeal; for, as we know, beside “Monsieur Planus, my
brother,” Risler was the only man excepted from the general reprobation
in which she enveloped the whole male sex.
Upon leaving the cafe concert, Sidonie’s husband had had a moment of
frantic excitement. He leaned on Planus’s arm, every nerve in his body
strained to the utmost. At that moment he had no thought of going to
Montrouge to get the letter and the package.
“Leave me--go away,” he said to Sigismond. “I must be alone.”
But the other knew better than to abandon him thus to his despair.
Unnoticed by Risler, he led him away from the factory, and as his
affectionate heart suggested to the old cashier what he had best say to
his friend, he talked to him all the time of Frantz, his little Frantz
whom he loved so dearly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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