vendetta- 第7部分

At　this　moment　a　soft　half…light　pervaded　the　studio；　but　a　parting

ray　of　the　evening　sunlight　suddenly　illuminated　the　spot　where　the

soldier　sat；　so　that　his　noble；　blanched　face；　his　black　hair；　and　his

clothes　were　bathed　in　its　glow。　The　effect　was　simple　enough；　but　to

the　girl's　Italian　imagination　it　was　a　happy　omen。　The　stranger

seemed　to　her　a　celestial　messenger；　speaking　the　language　of　her　own

country。　He　thus　unconsciously　put　her　under　the　spell　of　childhood's

memories；　while　in　her　heart　there　dawned　another　feeling　as　fresh；　as

pure　as　her　own　innocence。　For　a　short；　very　short　moment；　she　was

motionless　and　dreamy；　as　though　she　were　plunged　in　boundless

thought。　Then　she　blushed　at　having　allowed　her　absorption　to　be

noticed；　exchanged　one　soft　and　rapid　glance　with　the　wounded　man；　and

fled　with　the　vision　of　him　still　before　her　eyes。



The　next　day　was　not　a　class…day；　but　Ginevra　came　to　the　studio；　and

the　prisoner　was　free　to　sit　beside　her　easel。　Servin；　who　had　a

sketch　to　finish；　played　the　part　of　mentor　to　the　two　young　people；

who　talked　to　each　other　chiefly　in　Corsican。　The　soldier　related　the

sufferings　of　the　retreat　from　Moscow；　for；　at　nineteen　years　of　age；

he　had　made　the　passage　of　the　Beresins；　and　was　almost　the　last　man

left　of　his　regiment。　He　described；　in　words　of　fire；　the　great

disaster　of　Waterloo。　His　voice　was　music　itself　to　the　Italian　girl。

Brought　up　as　a　Corsican；　Ginevra　was；　in　some　sense；　a　child　of

Nature；　falseness　was　a　thing　unknown　to　her；　she　gave　herself　up

without　reserve　to　her　impressions；　she　acknowledged　them；　or；　rather；

allowed　them　to　be　seen　without　the　affectations　of　petty　and

calculating　coquetry；　characteristic　of　Parisian　girlhood。　During　this

day　she　sat　more　than　once　with　her　palette　in　one　hand；　her　brushes

in　another；　without　touching　a　color。　With　her　eyes　fastened　on　the

officer；　and　her　lips　slightly　apart；　she　listened；　in　the　attitude　of

painting　a　stroke　which　was　never　painted。　She　was　not　surprised　to

see　such　softness　in　the　eyes　of　the　young　man；　for　she　felt　that　her

own　were　soft　in　spite　of　her　will　to　keep　them　stern　and　calm。　After

periods　like　this　she　painted　diligently；　without　raising　her　head；

for　he　was　there；　near　her；　watching　her　work。　The　first　time　he　sat

down　beside　her　to　contemplate　her　silently；　she　said；　in　a　voice　of

some　emotion；　after　a　long　pause：



〃Does　it　amuse　you　to　see　me　paint？〃



That　day　she　learned　that　his　name　was　Luigi。　Before　separating；　it

was　agreed　between　them　that　if；　on　class…days　when　they　could　not　see

each　other；　any　important　political　event　occurred；　Ginevra　was　to

inform　him　by　singing　certain　Corsican　melodies　then　agreed　upon。



The　following　day　Mademoiselle　Thirion　informed　all　the　members　of　the

class；　under　pledge　of　secrecy　that　Ginevra　di　Piombo　had　a　lover；　a

young　man　who　came　during　the　hours　for　the　lesson；　and　concealed

himself　in　the　garret　beyond　the　studio。



〃You；　who　take　her　part；〃　she　said　to　Mademoiselle　Roguin；　〃watch　her

carefully；　and　you　will　see　how　she　spends　her　time。〃



Ginevra　was；　therefore；　observed　with　diabolical　attention。　They

listened　to　her　songs；　they　watched　her　glances。　At　times；　when　she

supposed　that　no　one　saw　her；　a　dozen　pairs　of　eyes　were　furtively

upon　her。　Thus　enlightened；　the　girls　were　able　to　interpret　truly　the

emotions　that　crossed　the　features　of　the　beautiful　Italian；her

gestures；　the　peculiar　tones　in　which　she　hummed　a　tune；　and　the

attention　with　which　they　saw　her　listen　to　sounds　which　only　she

could　hear　through　the　partition。



By　the　end　of　a　week；　Laure　was　the　only　one　of　Servin's　fifteen

pupils　who　had　resisted　the　temptation　of　looking　at　Luigi　through　the

crevice　of　the　partition；　and　she；　through　an　instinct　of　weakness；

still　defended　her　beautiful　friend。　Mademoiselle　Roguin　endeavored　to

make　her　wait　on　the　staircase　after　the　class　dispersed；　that　she

might　prove　to　her　the　intimacy　of　Ginevra　and　the　young　man　by

entering　the　studio　and　surprising　them　together。　But　Laure　refused　to

condescend　to　an　act　of　espial　which　no　curiosity　could　justify；　and

she　consequently　became　the　object　of　much　reprobation。



Before　long　Mademoiselle　Thirion　made　known　that　she　thought　it

improper　to　attend　the　classes　of　a　painter　whose　opinions　were

tainted　with　patriotism　and　Bonapartism　（in　those　days　the　terms　were

synonymous）；　and　she　ceased　her　attendance　at　the　studio。　But；

although　she　herself　forgot　Ginevra；　the　harm　she　had　planted　bore

fruit。　Little　by　little；　the　other　young　girls　revealed　to　their

mothers　the　strange　events　which　were　happening　at　the　studio。　One　day

Matilde　Roguin　did　not　come；　the　next　day　another　girl　was　missing；

and　so　on；　till　the　last　three　or　four　who　were　left　came　no　more。

Ginevra　and　Laure；　her　little　friend；　were　the　sole　occupants　of　the

deserted　studio　for　three　or　four　days。



Ginevra　did　not　observe　this　falling　off；　nor　ask　the　cause　of　her

companions'　absence。　As　soon　as　she　had　invented　means　of

communication　with　Luigi　she　lived　in　the　studio　in　a　delightful

solitude；　alone　amid　her　own　world；　thinking　only　of　the　officer　and

the　dangers　that　threatened　him。　Though　a　sincere　admirer　of　noble

characters　that　never　betray　their　political　faiths；　she　nevertheless

urged　Luigi　to　submit　himself　to　the　royal　authority；　that　he　might　be

released　from　his　present　life　and　remain　in　France。　But　to　this　he

would　not　consent。　If　passions　are　born　and　nourished；　as　they　say；

under　the　influence　of　romantic　causes；　never　did　so　many

circumstances　of　that　kind　concur　in　uniting　two　young　souls　by　one

and　the　same　sentiment。　The　friendship　of　Ginevra　for　Luigi　and　that

of　Luigi　for　Ginevra　made　more　progress　in　a　month　than　a　friendship

in　society　would　make　in　ten　years。　Adversity　is　the　touchstone　of

character。　Ginevra　was　able；　therefore；　to　study　Luigi；　to　know　him；

and　before　long　they　mutually　esteemed　each　other。　The　girl；　who　was

older　than　Luigi；　found　a　charm　in　being　courted　by　a　youth　already　so

grand；　so　tried　by　fate；a　youth　who　joined　to　the　experience　of　a

man　the　graces　of　adolescence。　Luigi；　on　his　side；　felt　an　unspeakable

pleasure　in　allowing　himself　to　be　apparently　protected　by　a　woman；

now　twenty…five　years　of　age。　Was　it　not　a　proof　of　love？　The　union　of

gentleness　and　pride；　strength　and　weakness　in　Ginevra　were；　to　him；

irresistible　attractions；　and　he　was　utterly　subjugated　by　her。　In

short；　before　long；　they　loved　each　other　so　profoundly　that　they　felt

no　need　of　denying　to　each　other　their　love；　nor　yet　of　telling　it。



One　day；　towards　evening；　Ginevra　heard　the　accustomed　signal。　Luigi

scratched　with　a　pin　on　the　woodwork　in　a　manner　that　produced　no　more

noise　than　a　spider　might　make　as　he　fastened　his　thread。　The　signal

meant　that　he　wished　to　come　out　of　his　retreat。



Ginevra　glanced　around　the　studio；　and　not　seeing　Laure；　opened　the

door；　but　as　she　did　so　Luigi　caught　sight　of　the　little　pupil　and

abruptly　retired。　Surprised　at　his　action；　Ginevra　looked　round；　saw

Laure；　and　said；　as　she　went　up　to　the　girl's　easel：



〃You　are　staying　late；　my　dear。　That　head　seems　to　me　finished；　you

only　want　a　high…light；see！　on　that　knot　of　hair。〃



〃You　would　do　me　a　great　kindness；〃　said　Laure；　in　a　trembling　voice；

〃if　you　would　give　this　copy　a　few　touches；　for　then　I　could　carry

away　with　me　something　to　remind　me　of　you。〃



〃Willingly；〃　said　Ginevra；　painting　a　few　strokes　on　the　picture。　〃But

I　thought　it　was　a　long　way　from　your　home　to　the　studio；　and　it　is

late。〃



〃Oh！　Ginevra；　I　am　going　away；　never　to　return；〃　cried　the　poor　girl；

sadly。



〃You　mean　to　leave　Monsieur　Servin！〃　exclaimed　Ginevra；　less　affected；

however；　by　this　news　than　she　would　have　been　a　month　earlier。



〃Haven't　you　noticed；　Ginevra；　that　for　some　days　past　you　and　I　have

been　alone　in　the　studio？〃



〃True；〃　said　Ginevra；　as　if　struck　by　a　sudden　recollection。　〃Are　all

those　young　ladies　ill；　or　going　to　be　married；　or　are　their　fathers

on　duty　at　court？〃



〃They　have　left　Monsieur　Servin；〃　replied　Laure。



〃Why？〃



〃On　your　account；　Ginevra。〃



〃My　account！〃　repeated　the　Corsican；　springing　up；　with　a　threatening

brow　and　her　eyes　flashing。



〃Oh！　don't　be　angry；　my　kind　Ginevra；〃　cried　Laure；　in　deep　distress。

〃My　mother　insists　on　my　leaving　the　studio。　The　young　ladies　say　that

you　have　some　intrigue；　and　that　Monsieur　Servin　allows　the　young　man

whom　you　love　to　stay　in　the　dark　attic。　I　have　never　believed　these

calumnies　nor　said　a　word　to　my　mother　about　them。　But　last　night

Madame　Roguin　met　her　at　a　ball　and　asked　her　if　she　still　sent　me

here。　When　my　mother　answered　yes；　Madame　Roguin　told　her　the

falsehoods　of　those　young　ladies。　Mamma　scolded　me　severely；　she　said

I　must　have　known　it　all；　and　that　I　had　failed　in　prope