vendetta- 第5部分

Ginevra；　under　the　influence　of　an　uneasiness　she　tried　in　vain　to

disguise。　They　nodded　to　each　other　in　a　friendly　way；　but　said

nothing；　one　painted；　the　other　stood　looking　at　the　painting。　The

breathing　of　the　soldier　in　the　closet　could　be　distinctly　heard；　but

Madame　Servin　appeared　not　to　notice　it；　her　feigned　ignorance　was　so

obvious　that　Ginevra　recognized　it　at　once　for　wilful　deafness。

Presently　the　unknown　man　turned　on　his　pallet。



The　Italian　then　looked　fixedly　at　Madame　Servin；　who　said；　without

the　slightest　change　of　face：



〃Your　copy　is　as　fine　as　the　original；　if　I　had　to　choose　between　the

two　I　should　be　puzzled。〃



〃Monsieur　Servin　has　not　taken　his　wife　into　his　confidence　as　to　this

mystery；〃　thought　Ginevra；　who；　after　replying　to　the　young　wife's

speech　with　a　gentle　smile　of　incredulity；　began　to　hum　a　Corsican

〃canzonetta〃　to　cover　the　noise　that　was　made　by　the　prisoner。



It　was　so　unusual　a　thing　to　hear　the　studious　Italian　sing；　that　all

the　other　young　girls　looked　up　at　her　in　surprise。　Later；　this

circumstance　served　as　proof　to　the　charitable　suppositions　of

jealousy。



Madame　Servin　soon　went　away；　and　the　session　ended　without　further

events；　Ginevra　allowed　her　companions　to　depart；　and　seemed　to　intend

to　work　later。　But；　unconsciously　to　herself；　she　betrayed　her　desire

to　be　left　alone　by　impatient　glances；　ill…disguised；　at　the　pupils

who　were　slow　in　leaving。　Mademoiselle　Thirion；　a　cruel　enemy　to　the

girl　who　excelled　her　in　everything；　guessed　by　the　instinct　of

jealousy　that　her　rival's　industry　hid　some　purpose。　By　dint　of

watching　her　she　was　struck　by　the　attentive　air　with　which　Ginevra

seemed　to　be　listening　to　sounds　that　no　one　else　had　heard。　The

expression　of　impatience　she　now　detected　in　her　companion's　eyes　was

like　a　flash　of　light　to　her。



Amelie　was　the　last　of　the　pupils　to　leave　the　studio；　from　there　she

went　down　to　Madame　Servin's　apartment　and　talked　with　her　for　a

moment；　then　she　pretended　to　have　left　her　bag；　ran　softly　back　to

the　studio；　and　found　Ginevra　once　more　mounted　on　her　frail

scaffolding；　and　so　absorbed　in　the　contemplation　of　an　unknown　object

that　she　did　not　hear　the　slight　noise　of　her　companion's　footsteps。

It　is　true　that；　to　use　an　expression　of　Walter　Scott；　Amelie　stepped

as　if　on　eggs。　She　hastily　withdrew　outside　the　door　and　coughed。

Ginevra　quivered；　turned　her　head；　saw　her　enemy；　blushed；　hastened　to

alter　the　shade　to　give　meaning　to　her　position；　and　came　down　from

her　perch　leisurely。　She　soon　after　left　the　studio；　bearing　with　her；

in　her　memory；　the　image　of　a　man's　head；　as　beauteous　as　that　of　the

Endymion；　a　masterpiece　of　Girodet's　which　she　had　lately　copied。



〃To　banish　so　young　a　man！　Who　can　he　be？　for　he　is　not　Marshal　Ney〃



These　two　sentences　are　the　simplest　expression　of　the　many　ideas　that

Ginevra　turned　over　in　her　mind　for　two　days。　On　the　third　day；　in

spite　of　her　haste　to　be　first　at　the　studio；　she　found　Mademoiselle

Thirion　already　there；　having　come　in　a　carriage。



Ginevra　and　her　enemy　observed　each　other　for　a　long　time；　but　they

made　their　faces　impenetrable。　Amelie　had　seen　the　handsome　head　of

the　mysterious　man；　but；　fortunately；　and　unfortunately　also；　the

Imperial　eagles　and　uniform　were　so　placed　that　she　did　not　see　them

through　the　crevice　in　the　partition。　She　was　lost　in　conjectures。

Suddenly　Servin　came　in；　much　earlier　than　usual。



〃Mademoiselle　Ginevra；〃　he　said；　after　glancing　round　the　studio；　〃why

have　you　placed　yourself　there？　The　light　is　bad。　Come　nearer　to　the

rest　of　the　young　ladies　and　pull　down　that　curtain　a　little。〃



Then　he　sat　down　near　Laure；　whose　work　deserved　his　most　cordial

attention。



〃Well；　well！〃　he　cried；　〃here；　indeed；　is　a　head　extremely　well　done。

You'll　be　another　Ginevra。〃



The　master　then　went　from　easel　to　easel；　scolding；　flattering；

jesting；　and　making；　as　usual；　his　jests　more　dreaded　than　his

reprimands。　Ginevra　had　not　obeyed　the　professor's　order；　but　remained

at　her　post；　firmly　resolved　not　to　quit　it。　She　took　a　sheet　of　paper

and　began　to　sketch　in　sepia　the　head　of　the　hidden　man。　A　work　done

under　the　impulse　of　an　emotion　has　always　a　stamp　of　its　own。　The

faculty　of　giving　to　representations　of　nature　or　of　thought　their

true　coloring　constitutes　genius；　and　often；　in　this　respect；　passion

takes　the　place　of　it。　So；　under　the　circumstances　in　which　Ginevra

now　found　herself；　the　intuition　which　she　owed　to　a　powerful　effect

upon　her　memory；　or；　possibly；　to　necessity；　that　mother　of　great

things；　lent　her；　for　the　moment；　a　supernatural　talent。　The　head　of

the　young　officer　was　dashed　upon　the　paper　in　the　midst　of　an　awkward

trembling　which　she　mistook　for　fear；　and　in　which　a　physiologist

would　have　recognized　the　fire　of　inspiration。　From　time　to　time　she

glanced　furtively　at　her　companions；　in　order　to　hide　the　sketch　if

any　of　them　came　near　her。　But　in　spite　of　her　watchfulness；　there　was

a　moment　when　she　did　not　see　the　eyeglass　of　the　pitiless　Amelie

turned　full　upon　the　drawing　from　the　shelter　of　a　great　portfolio。

Mademoiselle　Thirion；　recognizing　the　portrait　of　the　mysterious　man；

showed　herself　abruptly；　and　Ginevra　hastily　covered　the　sheet　of

paper。



〃Why　do　you　stay　there　in　spite　of　my　advice；　mademoiselle？〃　asked　the

professor；　gravely。



The　pupil　turned　her　easel　so　that　no　one　but　the　master　could　see　the

sketch；　which　she　placed　upon　it；　and　said；　in　an　agitated　voice：



〃Do　you　not　think；　as　I　do；　that　the　light　is　very　good？　Had　I　not

better　remain　here？〃



Servin　turned　pale。　As　nothing　escapes　the　piercing　eyes　of　malice；

Mademoiselle　Thirion　became；　as　it　were；　a　sharer　in　the　sudden

emotion　of　master　and　pupil。



〃You　are　right；〃　said　Servin；　〃but　really；〃　he　added；　with　a　forced

laugh；　〃you　will　soon　come　to　know　more　than　I　do。〃



A　pause　followed；　during　which　the　professor　studied　the　drawing　of

the　officer's　head。



〃It　is　a　masterpiece！　worthy　of　Salvator　Rosa！〃　he　exclaimed；　with　the

energy　of　an　artist。



All　the　pupils　rose　on　hearing　this；　and　Mademoiselle　Thirion　darted

forward　with　the　velocity　of　a　tiger　on　its　prey。　At　this　instant；　the

prisoner；　awakened；　perhaps；　by　the　noise；　began　to　move。　Ginevra

knocked　over　her　stool；　said　a　few　incoherent　sentences；　and　began　to

laugh；　but　she　had　thrown　the　portrait　into　her　portfolio　before

Amelie　could　get　to　her。　The　easel　was　now　surrounded；　Servin

descanted　on　the　beauty　of　the　copy　which　his　favorite　pupil　was　then

making；　and　the　whole　class　was　duped　by　this　stratagem；　except

Amelie；　who；　slipping　behind　her　companions；　attempted　to　open　the

portfolio　where　she　had　seen　Ginevra　throw　the　sketch。　But　the　latter

took　it　up　without　a　word；　and　placed　it　in　front　of　her。　The　two

young　girls　then　looked　at　each　other　fixedly；　in　silence。



〃Come；　mesdemoiselles；　take　your　places；〃　said　Servin。　〃If　you　wish　to

do　as　well　as　Mademoiselle　di　Piombo；　you　mustn't　be　always　talking

fashions　and　balls；　and　trifling　away　your　time　as　you　do。〃



When　they　were　all　reseated　before　their　easels；　Servin　sat　down

beside　Ginevra。



〃Was　it　not　better　that　I　should　be　the　one　to　discover　the　mystery

rather　than　the　others？〃　asked　the　girl；　in　a　low　voice。



〃Yes；〃　replied　the　painter；　〃you　are　one　of　us；　a　patriot；　but　even　if

you　were　not；　I　should　still　have　confided　the　matter　to　you。〃



Master　and　pupil　understood　each　other；　and　Ginevra　no　longer　feared

to　ask：



〃Who　is　he？〃



〃An　intimate　friend　of　Labedoyere；　who　contributed　more　than　any　other

man；　except　the　unfortunate　colonel；　to　the　union　of　the　7th　regiment

with　the　grenadiers　of　Elba。　He　was　a　major　in　the　Imperial　guard　and

was　at　Waterloo。〃



〃Why　not　have　burned　his　uniform　and　shako；　and　supplied　him　with

citizen's　clothes？〃　said　Ginevra；　impatiently。



〃He　will　have　them　to…night。〃



〃You　ought　to　have　closed　the　studio　for　some　days。〃



〃He　is　going　away。〃



〃Then　they'll　kill　him；〃　said　the　girl。　〃Let　him　stay　here　with　you

till　the　present　storm　is　over。　Paris　is　still　the　only　place　in

France　where　a　man　can　be　hidden　safely。　Is　he　a　friend　of　yours？〃　she

asked。



〃No；　he　has　no　claim　upon　me　but　that　of　his　ill…luck。　He　came　into　my

hands　in　this　way。　My　father…in…law；　who　returned　to　the　army　during

the　campaign；　met　this　young　fellow；　and　very　cleverly　rescued　him

from　the　claws　of　those　who　captured　Labedoyere。　He　came　here　to

defend　the　general；　foolish　fellow！〃



〃Do　you　call　him　that！〃　cried　Ginevra；　casting　a　glance　of

astonishment　at　the　painter；　who　was　silent　for　a　moment。



〃My　father…in…law　is　too　closely　watched　to　be　able　to　keep　him　in　his

own　house；〃　he　resumed。　〃So　he　brought　him　to　me；　by　night；　about　a

week　ago。　I　hoped　to　keep　him　out　of　sight　in　this　corner；　the　only

s