Chouans -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
“My good lady,” replied the commandant, with his usual grimace, “that’s
none of your business.”
Irritated by the tone and words of the old soldier, but still more at
the sort of humiliation offered to her in presence of a man who was
under the influence of her charms, Mademoiselle de Verneuil rose,
abandoning the simple and modest manner she had hitherto adopted; her
cheeks glowed and her eyes shone as she said in a quiet tone but with a
trembling voice: “Tell me, has this young man met all the requirements
of the law?”
“Yes--apparently,” said Hulot ironically.
“Then, I desire that you will leave him, _apparently_, alone,” she said.
“Are you afraid he will escape you? You are to escort him with me to
Mayenne; he will be in the coach with his mother. Make no objection; it
is my will--Well, what?” she added, noticing Hulot’s grimace; “do you
suspect him still?”
“Rather.”
“What do you want to do with him?”
“Oh, nothing; balance his head with a little lead perhaps. He’s a
giddy-pate!” said the commandant, ironically.
“Are you joking, colonel?” cried Mademoiselle de Verneuil.
“Come!” said the commandant, nodding to the young man, “make haste, let
us be off.”
At this impertinence Mademoiselle de Verneuil became calm and smiling.
“Do not go,” she said to the young man, protecting him with a gesture
that was full of dignity.
“Oh, what a beautiful head!” said the youth to his mother, who frowned
heavily.
Annoyance, and many other sentiments, aroused and struggled with, did
certainly bring fresh beauties to the young woman’s face. Francine,
Madame du Gua, and her son had all risen from their seats. Mademoiselle
de Verneuil hastily advanced and stood between them and the commandant,
who smiled amusedly; then she rapidly unfastened the frogged fastenings
of her jacket. Acting with that blindness which often seizes women when
their self-love is threatened and they are anxious to show their power,
as a child is impatient to play with a toy that has just been given to
it, she took from her bosom a paper and presented it to Hulot.
“Read that,” she said, with a sarcastic laugh.
Then she turned to the young man and gave him, in the excitement of
her triumph, a look in which mischief was mingled with an expression
of love. Their brows cleared, joy flushed each agitated face, and a
thousand contradictory thoughts rose in their hearts. Madame du Gua
noted in that one look far more of love than of pity in Mademoiselle
de Verneuil’s intervention; and she was right. The handsome creature
blushed beneath the other woman’s gaze, understanding its meaning, and
dropped her eyelids; then, as if aware of some threatening accusation,
she raised her head proudly and defied all eyes. The commandant,
petrified, returned the paper, countersigned by ministers, which
enjoined all authorities to obey the orders of this mysterious lady.
Having done so, he drew his sword, laid it across his knees, broke the
blade, and flung away the pieces.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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