The Ink-Stain (Tache d'encre) — Volume 2Bazin, René
General
The Ink-Stain (Tache d'encre) — Volume 2
Bazin, René
Paris (France) -- Fiction
"I am certain of it, and he has the thirty-seven of the gens Cassia, one
hundred and eighteen to one hundred and twenty-one of the gens Cornelia,
the eleven Farsuleia, and dozens of Numitoria, Pompeia, and Scribonia,
all in perfect condition, as if fresh from the die. Besides these, he
has some large medals of the greatest rarity; the Marcus Aurelius with
his son on the reverse side, Theodora bearing the globe, and above all
the Annia Faustina with Heliogabalus on the reverse side, an incomparable
treasure, of which there is only one other example, and that an imperfect
one, in the world--a marvel which I would give a day of my life to see;
yes, my dear, a day of my life!"
Such talk as this, in French, in such an inn as this!
I felt a presentiment, and stepped softly to the right-hand door.
In the darkened room, lighted only by a few rays filtered between the
slats of the shutters, sat a young girl. Her hat was hung upon a nail
above her head; one arm rested on a wretched white wood table; her head
was bent forward in mournful resignation. On the other side of the
table, her father was leaning back in his chair against the whitewashed
wall, with folded arms, heightened color, and every sign of extreme
disgust. Both rose as I entered--Jeanne first, M. Charnot after her.
They were astonished at seeing me.
I was no less astounded than they.
We stood and stared at each other for some time, to make sure that we
were not dreaming.
M. Charnot was the first to break the silence. He did not seem
altogether pleased at my appearance, and turned to his daughter, whose
face had grown very red and yet rather chilling:
"Jeanne, put your hat on; it is time to go to the station." Then he
addressed me:
"We shall leave you the room to yourself, sir; and since the most
extraordinary coincidence"--he emphasized the words--"has brought you to
this damnable village, I hope you will enjoy your visit."
"Have you been here long, Monsieur?"
"Two hours, Monsieur, two mortal hours in this inn, fried by the sun,
bored to death, murdered piecemeal by flies, and infuriated by the want
of hospitality in this out-of-the-way hole in Lombardy."
"Yes, I noticed that the host was nowhere to be seen, and that is the
reason why I came in here; I had no idea that I should have the honor of
meeting you."
"Good God! I'm not complaining of him! He's asleep in his barn over
there. You can wake him up; he doesn't mind showing himself; he even
makes himself agreeable when he has finished his siesta."
"I only wish to ask him one question, which perhaps you could answer,
Monsieur; then I need not waken him. Could you tell me the way to the
Villa Dannegianti?"
M. Charnot walked up to me, looked me straight in the eyes, shrugged his
shoulders, and burst out laughing.
"The Villa Dannegianti!"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Are you going to the Villa Dannegianti?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Then you may as well turn round and go home again."
"Why?"
"Because there's no admission."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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