The Brotherhood of Consolation Part 4

G.o.defroid bowed and went to his room, where he flung the book upon the table, exclaiming,--

"Poor, good woman! Well, so be it!"

V. THE INFLUENCE OF BOOKS

The book, like all books frequently read, opened in a particular place.

G.o.defroid sat down as if to put his ideas in order, for he had gone through more emotion during this one morning than he had often done in the agitated months of his life; but above all, his curiosity was keenly excited. Letting his eyes fall by chance, as people will when their souls are launched in meditation, they rested mechanically on the two open pages of the book; almost unconsciously he read the following heading:--

CHAPTER XII.

THE ROYAL WAY OF THE HOLY CROSS

He took up the book; a sentence of that n.o.ble chapter caught his eye like a flash of light:--

"He has walked before thee, bearing his cross; he died for thee, that thou mightest bear thy cross, and be glad to die upon it.

"Go where thou wilt, seek what thou wilt, never canst thou find a n.o.bler, surer path than the royal way of the holy cross.

"Dispose and order all things according to thy desires and thine own judgment and still thou shalt find trials to suffer, whether thou wilt or no; and so the cross is there; be it pain of body or pain of mind.

"Sometimes G.o.d will seem to leave thee, sometimes men will hara.s.s thee. But, far worse, thou wilt find thyself a burden to thyself, and no remedy will deliver thee, no consolation comfort thee: until it pleases G.o.d to end thy trouble thou must bear it; for it is G.o.d's will that we suffer without consolation, that we may go to him without one backward look, humble through tribulation."

"What a strange book!" thought G.o.defroid, turning over the leaves. Then his eyes lighted on the following words:--

"When thou hast reached the height of finding all afflictions sweet, since they have made thee love the love of Jesus Christ, then know thyself happy; for thou hast found thy paradise in this world."

Annoyed by this simplicity (the characteristic of strength), angry at being foiled by a book, he closed the volume; but even then he saw, in letters of gold on the green morocco cover, the words:--

SEEK THAT WHICH IS ETERNAL, AND THAT ONLY.

"Have they found it here?" he asked himself.

He went out to buy the handsomest copy he could find of the "Imitation of Jesus Christ" thinking that Madame de la Chanterie would wish to read her chapter that night. When he reached the street he stood a moment near the door, uncertain which way to take and debating in what direction he was likely to find a bookseller. As he stood there he heard the heavy sound of the ma.s.sive porte-cochere closing.

Two men were leaving the hotel de la Chanterie. If the reader has fully understood the character of this old house he will know that it was one of the ancient mansions of the olden time. Manon, herself, when she called G.o.defroid that morning, had asked him, smiling, how he had slept in the hotel de la Chanterie.

G.o.defroid followed the two men without the slightest intention of watching them; they took him for an accidental pa.s.ser, and spoke in tones which enabled him to hear distinctly in those lonely streets.

The two men pa.s.sed along the rue Ma.s.sillon beside the church and crossed the open s.p.a.ce in front of it.

"Well, you see, old man, it is easy enough to catch their sous. Say what they want you to say, that's all."

"But we owe money."

"To whom?"

"To that lady--"

"I'd like to see that old body try to get it; I'd--"

"You'd pay her."

"Well, you're right, for if I paid her I'd get more another time."

"Wouldn't it be better to do as they advise, and build up a good business?"

"Pooh!"

"But she said she would get some one to lend us the money."

"Then we should have to give up the life of--"

"Well, I'd rather; I'm sick of it; it isn't being a man at all to be drunk half one's time."

"Yes, but you know the abbe turned his back on old Marin the other day; he refused him everything."

"Because old Marin tried to swindle, and n.o.body can succeed in that but millionnaires."

Just then the two men, whose dress seemed to show that they were foremen in some workshop, turned abruptly round towards the place Maubert by the bridge of the Hotel-Dieu. G.o.defroid stepped aside to let them pa.s.s.

Seeing him so close behind them they looked rather anxiously at each other, and their faces expressed a regret for having spoken.

G.o.defroid was the more interested by this conversation because it reminded him of the scene between the Abbe de Veze and the workman the day of his first visit.

Thinking over this circ.u.mstance, he went as far as a bookseller's in the rue Saint-Jacques, whence he returned with a very handsome copy of the finest edition published in France of the "Imitation of Jesus Christ."

Walking slowly back, in order that he might arrive exactly at the dinner hour, he recalled his own sensations during this morning and he was conscious of a new impulse in his soul. He was seized by a sudden and deep curiosity, but his curiosity paled before an inexplicable desire.

He was drawn to Madame de la Chanterie; he felt the keenest desire to attach himself to her, to devote himself to her, to please her, to deserve her praise: in short, he felt the first emotions of platonic love; he saw glimpses of the untold grandeur of that soul, and he longed to know it in its entirety. He grew impatient to enter the inner lives of these pure Catholics. In that small company of faithful souls, the majesty of practical religion was so thoroughly blended with all that is most majestic in a French woman that G.o.defroid resolved to leave no stone unturned to make himself accepted as a true member of the little body. These feelings would have been unnaturally sudden in a busy Parisian eagerly occupied with life, but G.o.defroid was, as we have seen, in the position of a drowning man who catches at every floating branch thinking it a solid stay, and his soul, ploughed and furrowed with trial, was ready to receive all seed.

He found the four friends in the salon, and he presented the book to Madame de la Chanterie, saying:

"I did not like to deprive you of it to-night."

"G.o.d grant," she said, smiling, as she looked at the magnificent volume, "that this may be your last excess of elegance."

Looking at the clothes of the four men present and observing how in every particular they were reduced to mere utility and neatness, and seeing, too, how rigorously the same principle was applied to all the details of the house, G.o.defroid understood the value of the reproach so courteously made to him.

"Madame," he said, "the persons whom you obliged this morning are scoundrels; I overheard, without intending it, what they said to each other when they left the house; it was full of the basest ingrat.i.tude."

"They were the two locksmiths of the rue Mouffetard," said Madame de la Chanterie to Monsieur Nicolas; "that is your affair."

"The fish gets away more than once before it is caught," said Monsieur Alain, laughing.

The perfect indifference of Madame de la Chanterie on hearing of the immediate ingrat.i.tude of persons to whom she had, no doubt, given money, surprised G.o.defroid, who became thoughtful.

The dinner was enlivened by Monsieur Alain and Monsieur Joseph; but Monsieur Nicolas remained quiet, sad, and cold; he bore on his features the ineffaceable imprint of some bitter grief, some eternal sorrow.