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man. Eugenie will none the less be your wife."
In a few moments the news of Grandet's magnanimous resolve was
disseminated in three houses at the same moment, and the whole town
began to talk of his fraternal devotion. Every one forgave Grandet for
the sale made in defiance of the good faith pledged to the community;
they admired his sense of honor, and began to laud a generosity of
which they had never thought him capable. It is part of the French
nature to grow enthusiastic, or angry, or fervent about some meteor of
the moment. Can it be that collective beings, nationalities, peoples,
are devoid of memory?
When Pere Grandet had shut the door he called Nanon.
"Don't let the dog loose, and don't go to bed; we have work to do
together. At eleven o'clock Cornoiller will be at the door with the
chariot from Froidfond. Listen for him and prevent his knocking; tell
him to come in softly. Police regulations don't allow nocturnal
racket. Besides, the whole neighborhood need not know that I am
starting on a journey."
So saying, Grandet returned to his private room, where Nanon heard him
moving about, rummaging, and walking to and fro, though with much
precaution, for he evidently did not wish to wake his wife and
daughter, and above all not to rouse the attention of his nephew, whom
he had begun to anathematize when he saw a thread of light under his
door. About the middle of the night Eugenie, intent on her cousin,
fancied she heard a cry like that of a dying person. It must be
Charles, she thought; he was so pale, so full of despair when she had
seen him last,--could he have killed himself? She wrapped herself
quickly in a loose garment,--a sort of pelisse with a hood,--and was
about to leave the room when a bright light coming through the chinks
of her door made her think of fire. But she recovered herself as she
heard Nanon's heavy steps and gruff voice mingling with the snorting
of several horses.
"Can my father be carrying off my cousin?" she said to herself,
opening her door with great precaution lest it should creak, and yet
enough to let her see into the corridor.
Suddenly her eye encountered that of her father; and his glance, vague
and unnoticing as it was, terrified her. The goodman and Nanon were
yoked together by a stout stick, each end of which rested on their
shoulders; a stout rope was passed over it, on which was slung a small
barrel or keg like those Pere Grandet still made in his bakehouse as
an amusement for his leisure hours.
"Holy Virgin, how heavy it is!" said the voice of Nanon.
"What a pity that it is only copper sous!" answered Grandet. "Take
care you don't knock over the candlestick."
The scene was lighted by a single candle placed between two rails of
the staircase.
"Cornoiller," said Grandet to his keeper _in partibus_, "have you
brought your pistols?"
"No, monsieur. Mercy! what's there to fear for your copper sous?"
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