His Masterpiece, Emile Zola [read ebook pdf .TXT] 📗
- Author: Emile Zola
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Claude Was Passing In Front Of The Hotel De Ville, And The Clock Was
Striking Two O'clock In The Morning When The Storm Burst Forth. He Had
Been Roaming Forgetfully About The Central Markets, During That
Burning July Night, Like A Loitering Artist Enamoured Of Nocturnal
Paris. Suddenly The Raindrops Came Down, So Large And Thick, That He
Took To His Heels And Rushed, Wildly Bewildered, Along The Quai De La
Greve. But On Reaching The Pont Louis Philippe He Pulled Up, Ragefully
Breathless; He Considered This Fear Of The Rain To Be Idiotic; And So
Amid The Pitch-Like Darkness, Under The Lashing Shower Which Drowned
The Gas-Jets, He Crossed The Bridge Slowly, With His Hands Dangling By
His Side.
He Had Only A Few More Steps To Go. As He Was Turning On To The Quai
Bourbon, On The Isle Of St. Louis, A Sharp Flash Of Lightning
Illumined The Straight, Monotonous Line Of Old Houses Bordering The
Narrow Road In Front Of The Seine. It Blazed Upon The Panes Of The
High, Shutterless Windows, Showing Up The Melancholy Frontages Of The
Old-Fashioned Dwellings In All Their Details; Here A Stone Balcony,
There The Railing Of A Terrace, And There A Garland Sculptured On A
Frieze. The Painter Had His Studio Close By, Under The Eaves Of The
Old Hotel Du Martoy, Nearly At The Corner Of The Rue De La
Femme-Sans-Tete.* So He Went On While The Quay, After Flashing Forth
For A Moment, Relapsed Into Darkness, And A Terrible Thunder-Clap
Shook The Drowsy Quarter.
* The Street Of The Headless Woman.--Ed.
When Claude, Blinded By The Rain, Got To His Door--A Low, Rounded
Door, Studded With Iron--He Fumbled For The Bell Knob, And He Was
Exceedingly Surprised--Indeed, He Started--On Finding A Living,
Breathing Body Huddled Against The Woodwork. Then, By The Light Of A
Second Flash, He Perceived A Tall Young Girl, Dressed In Black, And
Drenched Already, Who Was Shivering With Fear. When A Second
Thunder-Clap Had Shaken Both Of Them, Claude Exclaimed:
'How You Frighten One! Who Are You, And What Do You Want?'
He Could No Longer See Her; He Only Heard Her Sob, And Stammer:
'Oh, Monsieur, Don't Hurt Me. It's The Fault Of The Driver, Whom I
Hired At The Station, And Who Left Me At This Door, After Ill-Treating
Me. Yes, A Train Ran Off The Rails, Near Nevers. We Were Four Hours
Late, And A Person Who Was To Wait For Me Had Gone. Oh, Dear Me; I
Have Never Been In Paris Before, And I Don't Know Where I Am. . . .'
Another Blinding Flash Cut Her Short, And With Dilated Eyes She
Stared, Terror-Stricken, At That Part Of The Strange Capital, That
Violet-Tinted Apparition Of A Fantastic City. The Rain Had Ceased
Falling. On The Opposite Bank Of The Seine Was The Quai Des Ormes,
With Its Small Grey Houses Variegated Below By The Woodwork Of Their
Shops And With Their Irregular Roofs Boldly Outlined Above, While The
Horizon Suddenly Became Clear On The Left As Far As The Blue Slate
Part 1 Pg 6Eaves Of The Hotel De Ville, And On The Right As Far As The
Leaden-Hued Dome Of St. Paul. What Startled Her Most Of All, However,
Was The Hollow Of The Stream, The Deep Gap In Which The Seine Flowed,
Black And Turgid, From The Heavy Piles Of The Pont Marie, To The Light
Arches Of The New Pont Louis Philippe. Strange Masses Peopled The
River, A Sleeping Flotilla Of Small Boats And Yawls, A Floating
Washhouse, And A Dredger Moored To The Quay. Then, Farther Down,
Against The Other Bank, Were Lighters, Laden With Coals, And Barges
Full Of Mill Stone, Dominated As It Were By The Gigantic Arm Of A
Steam Crane. But, Suddenly, Everything Disappeared Again.
Claude Had An Instinctive Distrust Of Women--That Story Of An
Accident, Of A Belated Train And A Brutal Cabman, Seemed To Him A
Ridiculous Invention. At The Second Thunder-Clap The Girl Had Shrunk
Farther Still Into Her Corner, Absolutely Terrified.
'But You Cannot Stop Here All Night,' He Said.
She Sobbed Still More And Stammered, 'I Beseech You, Monsieur, Take Me
To Passy. That's Where I Was Going.'
He Shrugged His Shoulders. Did She Take Him For A Fool? Mechanically,
However, He Turned Towards The Quai Des Celestins, Where There Was A
Cabstand. Not The Faintest Glimmer Of A Lamp To Be Seen.
'To Passy, My Dear? Why Not To Versailles? Where Do You Think One Can
Pick Up A Cab At This Time Of Night, And In Such Weather?'
Her Only Answer Was A Shriek; For A Fresh Flash Of Lightning Had
Almost Blinded Her, And This Time The Tragic City Had Seemed To Her To
Be Spattered With Blood. An Immense Chasm Had Been Revealed, The Two
Arms Of The River Stretching Far Away Amidst The Lurid Flames Of A
Conflagration. The Smallest Details Had Appeared: The Little Closed
Shutters Of The Quai Des Ormes, And The Two Openings Of The Rue De La
Masure, And The Rue Du Paon-Blanc, Which Made Breaks In The Line Of
Frontages; Then Near The Pont Marie One Could Have Counted The Leaves
On The Lofty Plane Trees, Which There Form A Bouquet Of Magnificent
Verdure; While On The Other Side, Beneath The Pont Louis Philippe, At
The Mail, The Barges, Ranged In A Quadruple Line, Had Flared With The
Piles Of Yellow Apples With Which They Were Heavily Laden. And There
Was Also The Ripple Of The Water, The High Chimney Of The Floating
Washhouse, The Tightened Chain Of The Dredger, The Heaps Of Sand On
The Banks, Indeed, An Extraordinary Agglomeration Of Things, Quite A
Little World Filling The Great Gap Which Seemed To Stretch From One
Horizon To The Other. But The Sky Became Dark Again, And The River
Flowed On, All Obscurity, Amid The Crashing Of The Thunder.
'Thank Heaven It's Over. Oh, Heaven! What's To Become Of Me?'
Just Then The Rain Began To Fall Again, So Stiffly And Impelled By So
Strong A Wind That It Swept Along The Quay With The Violence Of Water
Escaping Through An Open Lock.
'Come, Let Me Get In,' Said Claude; 'I Can Stand This No Longer.'
Both Were Getting Drenched. By The Flickering Light Of The Gas Lamp At
The Corner Of The Rue De La Femme-Sans-Tete The Young Man Could See
The Water Dripping From The Girl's Dress, Which Was Clinging To Her
Part 1 Pg 7Skin, In The Deluge That Swept Against The Door. He Was Seized With
Compassion. Had He Not Once Picked Up A Cur On Such A Stormy Night As
This? Yet He Felt Angry With Himself For Softening. He Never Had
Anything To Do With Women; He Treated Them All As If Ignorant Of Their
Existence, With A Painful Timidity Which He Disguised Under A Mask Of
Bravado. And That Girl Must Really Think Him A Downright Fool, To
Bamboozle Him With That Story Of Adventure--Only Fit For A Farce.
Nevertheless, He Ended By Saying, 'That's Enough. You Had Better Come
In Out Of The Wet. You Can Sleep In My Rooms.'
But At This The Girl Became Even More Frightened, And Threw Up Her
Arms.
'In Your Rooms? Oh! Good Heavens. No, No; It's Impossible. I Beseech
You, Monsieur, Take Me To Passy. Let Me Beg Of You.'
But Claude Became Angry. Why Did She Make All This Fuss, When He Was
Willing To Give Her Shelter? He Had Already Rung The Bell Twice. At
Last The Door Opened And He Pushed The Girl Before Him.
'No, No, Monsieur; I Tell You, No--'
But Another Flash Dazzled Her, And When The Thunder Growled She
Bounded Inside, Scarce Knowing What She Was About. The Heavy Door Had
Closed Upon Them, She Was Standing Under A Large Archway In Complete
Darkness.
'It's I, Madame Joseph,' Cried Claude To The Doorkeeper. Then He
Added, In A Whisper, 'Give Me Your Hand, We Have To Cross The
Courtyard.'
The Girl Did As She Was Told; She No Longer Resisted; She Was
Overwhelmed, Worn Out. Once More They Encountered The Diluvian Rain,
As They Ran Side By Side As Hard As They Could Across The Yard. It Was
A Baronial Courtyard, Huge, And Surrounded With Stone Arcades,
Indistinct Amidst The Gloom. However, They Came To A Narrow Passage
Without A Door, And He Let Go Her Hand. She Could Hear Him Trying To
Strike Some Matches, And Swearing. They Were All Damp. It Was
Necessary For Them To Grope Their Way Upstairs.
'Take Hold Of The Banisters, And Be Careful,' Said Claude; 'The Steps
Are Very High.'
The Staircase, A Very Narrow One, A Former Servants' Staircase, Was
Divided Into Three Lofty Flights, Which She Climbed, Stumbling, With
Unskilful, Weary Limbs. Then He Warned Her That They Had To Turn Down
A Long Passage. She Kept Behind Him, Touching The Walls On Both Sides
With Her Outstretched Hands, As She Advanced Along That Endless
Passage Which Bent And Came Back To The Front Of The Building On The
Quay. Then There Were Still Other Stairs Right Under The Roof
--Creaking, Shaky Wooden Stairs, Which Had No Banister, And Suggested
The Unplaned Rungs Of A Miller's Ladder. The Landing At The Top Was So
Small That The Girl Knocked Against The Young Man, As He Fumbled In
His Pocket For His Key. At Last, However, He Opened The Door.
'Don't Come In, But Wait, Else You'll Hurt Yourself Again.'
She Did Not Stir. She Was Panting For Breath, Her Heart Was Beating
Part 1 Pg 8Fast, There Was A Buzzing In Her Ears, And She Felt Indeed Exhausted
By That Ascent In The Dense Gloom. It Seemed To Her As If She Had Been
Climbing For Hours, In Such A Maze, Amidst Such A Turning And Twisting
Of Stairs That She Would
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