Chapter 45 Volume 6 Antoinette (4)

Staying alone at home, she spent her twilight in unbearable misery. She didn't have the strength to rekindle the extinguished fire, and she didn't have the strength to go to bed. She sat until midnight, dazed, brooding, and shivering.She brooded over her past life, always inseparable from dead people and disillusioned visions; she thought so bitterly of loveless, wasted youth.It was an ambiguous pain that I didn't admit... A child was laughing on the street, and then she was toddling on the next floor, stepping on her heart every step of the way! ... Some doubts, some evil thoughts, entrenched in her heart; this selfish, pleasure-seeking city atmosphere infected her sickly soul.She suppressed her regrets, felt that her desires were shameful, she didn't understand where these troubles came from, and thought it was caused by inferior instincts.Poor little Ophelia, afflicted with mysterious boredom, felt with disgust a wild, disturbing odor emanating from the hidden recesses of her soul.She can no longer work, and most of her teaching positions have been resigned.She, who is used to getting up early, sometimes sleeps until noon: there is no point in getting up and going to bed; at the same time, she rarely eats or drinks.Only on the days when her brother was off--Thursday afternoon and one day on Sunday--she managed to be the same as before.

He didn't notice anything, because he was too interested in his new life and didn't want to observe his sister anymore.He had just reached a certain period of youth, and it was not easy to get along with others, and he was very indifferent to things that had touched him before and would still stir him up in the future.Adults often have fresher impressions and more innocent experiences of nature and life than twenty-year-old youths.That's why some people say that the hearts of young people are not young, and their senses are not sharp.That's often wrong.Their indifference is not due to insensitivity, but because their hearts are overwhelmed with enthusiasm, ambition, desire, and certain obsessions.When the body is old, when there is no expectation of life, the unrestrained emotions regain their place, and the tears like children flow again.Olivier had innumerable little things in his mind, and above all an absurd unrequited love haunted him--(which he always had),--which made him ignore or ignore everything else.Antoinette didn't know about his psychological changes, only saw that he was becoming more and more alienated from her.It wasn't entirely Olivier's fault either.Sometimes he came home, glad to see her and talk to her, but immediately cold upon entering the door.His sister's worrying feelings, her desperate fanaticism, her overly attentiveness, and her overly concern made him so depressed that he immediately gave up the intention of telling his heartfelt songs, and even thought that Antoinard had lost his normalcy.The knowledgeable attitude she used to deal with him was completely gone.But he didn't think deeply about it, and only answered yes or no directly to her question.The more she tried to tease him, the more he remained silent, or even offended her with a harsh remark.So she also fell into an embarrassing silence.The day passed and wasted. ——As soon as he stepped out of the house and set foot on the road back to school, he regretted his actions.At night he could not help feeling sorry for himself at the thought of making his sister sad; sometimes he wrote her a warm letter as soon as he got to school--but read it over the next morning and tore it up again.Antoinette knew nothing of the situation, but thought he did not love her any more.

She had--if not the last joy--at least the last agitation of youth's affections, which revived her heart, rekindled the power of love and the hope of happiness helplessly.And that's ridiculous too, contrary to her quiet personality.She would never have been in this state if she hadn't been in a state of distraction, hyperexcitement and bewilderment in the early stages of a serious illness. She and her brother listened to music at the Chadelet.Because he was a music critic in a small magazine, he could sit in a better position than he had in the past, but the crowd around him was disgusting.They sat near the edge of the stage on two spring stools.Christopher Kraft played that day.They did not know the German musician.But as soon as he came out, the blood in her heart immediately boiled.Although her sleepy eyes could not see him clearly, she had recognized her friend from the time of suffering in Germany.She never mentioned it to her brother, and even she hardly thought of it herself: from then on all her thoughts were occupied by the problems of life.And she is a very rational French woman, unwilling to admit that kind of feeling that has no reason and no future.There is an unfathomable area in her heart, which hides many emotions that she is ashamed to see; she knows that these things exist, but she dare not face them, because she feels unspeakable terror for the life that is not supervised by reason.

-------- ① French theaters have spring stools (which can be turned up when not in use) at both ends of each row of fixed seats for temporary additional seats. When the mood calmed down a bit, she looked at Christophe through her brother's hand glasses, saw his profile standing on the podium, and recognized his violent and withdrawn look.He was wearing an old suit that didn't fit him well. —Antoinette, speechless and cold, watched Christophe being humiliated by the crowd in this deplorable concert.People didn't welcome German artists before, but now they think his music is very dull.After a symphony that seemed too long, he played a few piano pieces; the cynical attitude of the crowd evidently expressed their reluctance to see him again.He began to play, and the tireless crowd listened resignedly; two listeners in the balcony on the highest floor spoke some very rude words loudly, so that the people in the hall listened to the straight music.Unexpectedly, Christophe stopped suddenly, and with the arrogant attitude of a wild child, he played the tune of "Marlborough Going to the Battle" with one hand, stood up and said to the crowd: "This is worthy of you!" appetite!"

-------- ① Refer to Volume 5 "Jiechang". ——Original note The crowd didn't quite understand the musician's intention at first, hesitated for a while, and then made a fuss, some booed, some shouted: "Apology! I must apologize!" They thought they were really indignant, and that might be the truth; but what was closer to the truth was that they were happy to take this opportunity to let loose and make a scene, just like middle school students after two hours of class. Antoinette had no strength to move, seemed terrified, twitched a glove with her fingers.From the first few notes of the symphony, she had expected that something might happen, felt that the latent malice of the crowd was slowly expanding, and also saw through Christophe's mood, and concluded that he would explode before the end of the performance.She waited, getting more and more depressed, wishing to stop him; but what happened was exactly as expected, so the blow she received was no different from the blow of fate, as if it could not be undone by human power.She fixed her eyes on Christophe, and Christophe stared angrily at the crowd who scolded him, and for a moment their eyes met.Christophe's eyes might have recognized her for a moment, but in the frenzy of the moment his mind did not recognize her--he had long since forgotten her--and then he was booed by the crowd The sound is gone.

She wanted to shout, to speak, but she couldn't speak like a nightmare.She was relieved to see her brave little brother, unaware of her agitation and sharing her grief and anger beside her.Olivier has a great talent for music, and he has his own taste, which is never restricted by others; as long as he likes one thing, he dares to love it at the risk of the world.Hearing the first few beats of Christophe's symphony, he felt something great, which he had never encountered before.He was very enthusiastic and said to himself in a very low voice: "Oh, how beautiful! How beautiful!..."

After hearing this, my sister unconsciously leaned against his body, feeling very grateful in her heart.After the symphony was played, he applauded enthusiastically, protesting against the indifference and sarcasm of the crowd.When the whole place was in a commotion, he was even more angry: the timid boy stood up and shouted that Christophe was right, he blamed those who shouted, and wanted to run to fight with them.His voice was drowned out by the noise in the arena, and he was called a jerk with foul language.Seeing that resistance was futile, Antoinette grabbed his arm and said, "Shut up, shut up!"

He sat down helplessly, and continued to growl: "Shame, shame! These damned guys!" She was speechless and distressed; thinking she was indifferent to the music, he said to her: "Don't you, Antoinette, don't you find this beautiful?" She nodded to indicate that she felt it.She just stood there in a daze, unable to cheer up.But when the band was about to play another song, she stood up suddenly, and said bitterly to her brother's ear, "Let's go, I don't want to see these people anymore!" They left in a hurry.On the street, holding hands, Olivier spoke excitedly, but Antoinette was speechless.

For the next few days, she sat alone in her bedroom, bewildered by a certain emotion, although she avoided facing it, it was always entangled with her thoughts, like blood throbbing violently in her temples , made her very uncomfortable. After a while, Olivier brought in a collection of Christophe's songs, which he had just discovered in a bookstore.She flipped through it casually, and saw a piece of music with a German inscription on it: "For the woman who was imprisoned by me", and the year, month, and day were written underneath. She remembers that day very well. -- Panicked, she couldn't stand it anymore, so she put down the album and asked Olivier to play it to her, but she went into the bedroom and closed the door.Olivier was only delighted with this new music, and immediately played it, not noticing his sister's excitement.Antoinette sat next door, trying to suppress her heartbeat.Suddenly she went to find her little ledger in the closet and looked up the date of her departure from Germany and the mysterious date.In fact, she already knew it; after checking, it turned out that it was the evening when she and Christophe went to the theater together.So she lay on the bed, closed her eyes, blushed, clasped her hands on her chest, and listened to the beloved music, feeling extremely grateful... Ah!Why is her head hurting so badly?

Because his sister could not come out, Olivier entered the room after playing a piece and found her lying down.He asked her if she was unwell.She replied that she was tired, and got up to accompany him.They were talking, but she didn't answer his question immediately, as if she suddenly woke up from a daze.She smiled, blushed, and said sorry that she had a terrible headache and was a little confused.Olivier is gone.She asked him to keep the collection, and then sat by herself until late at night, looking at the music score in front of the piano, not playing, just playing a few notes at random, gently, lest she would offend the neighbors.Most of the time she doesn't look at it, she just thinks wildly, and is full of gratitude and tenderness to the person who pities her and peeps into her heart with mysterious intuition and compassion.She couldn't fix her thoughts, she just felt happy and sad, -- sad... ah!What a headache she had!

She had sweet and sleepy dreams all night!Very sad.During the day, in order to refresh herself, she wanted to go for a walk.Although she still had a severe headache, she insisted on having a purpose, so she went to a department store to buy some things.She didn't think about what she had done at all, she only thought about Christophe, but she didn't admit it.When she came out exhausted and desolate, she suddenly saw Christophe walking on the sidewalk opposite.He also saw her at the same time.She immediately reached out to him without thinking.This time Christophe also stopped and recognized her.He had already come down the sidewalk to meet Antoinette; Antoinette also walked to meet him.But the crowd pushed and pushed her like a weed, and a horse of the streetcar slipped and fell on the muddy street, forming a bank in front of Christophe, and the passing vehicles were blocked. It became an inextricable situation.Christophe desperately wanted to pass through: unexpectedly, he was caught in the middle of the carriage and could not advance or retreat.He managed to reach the place where he saw Antoinette, but she was gone: she tried to resist the crowd but couldn't resist, so she lost heart and stopped struggling, feeling that there was a force of fate restricting her and Christophe. Husband meets: And since it is predestined, what can be done?So she squeezed out of the crowd, not wanting to go back.She was suddenly shy: what dared she say to him, what would she do?What did he think of her?Thinking of this, she slipped home. When she got home, her heart began to settle down.Once inside, she sat in the shadows at the table, not even having the courage to take off her hat and gloves.She was distressed because she couldn't talk to him, and at the same time, she felt a light in her heart; the shadow was gone, and the illness on her body was gone.She saw herself stretching out her hand to Christophe, seeing how glad Christophe had recognized her, so she smiled and blushed.Sitting alone in the dark room, she stretched out her arms to him again.It was almost involuntary: she felt that she was going to be wiped out, and she instinctively wanted to grab a strong being who walked by and looked at her very compassionately.With all her tenderness and sorrow, she called out to him in the middle of the night: "Help me! Help me!" She got up hot all over, lit a lamp, took a pen and paper, and wrote a letter to Christophe.The timid and proud girl would never have thought of writing to him if she had not been trapped by her illness.She didn't know what to write, and she couldn't control herself at that time.She called him and told him that she loved him... In the middle of writing, she stopped in shock and wanted to write again: but the enthusiasm had receded, and her head was empty, with a fever like fire, and all the hardships were gone. Words were not easy to find; she was completely overwhelmed by fatigue and embarrassed... What was the use of all this?This is obviously lying to herself, she will not send the letter... and even if she wants to, it is impossible.She doesn't know where Christophe lives... Poor Christophe!Even if he knew this and had good intentions for her, how could he help her? ……too late!Everything is in vain.A choked bird flapped its wings desperately in a last-ditch effort.She can only accept her fate... She sat in front of the table for a long time, unable to struggle out of the paralysis.By the time she stood up bravely with all her strength, it was already midnight.She tucked the manuscript in a volume on the shelf, and had neither the courage to hide it nor tear it up.Then she fell asleep, shivering and hot.The mystery was solved: she felt that the will of God had been accomplished. So she only had a state of harmony and tranquility in her heart. On Sunday morning, Olivier came back from school and found Antoinette lying on the bed, a little unconscious.The doctor came and concluded that it was acute lung disease. During the last few days Antoinette became aware of her illness; she now found out the cause of the mental disturbance which had earlier frightened her.The poor girl was always secretly ashamed of her recent mood, and she was greatly relieved when she realized that it was the disease and not her responsibility.She still had the energy to take care of things, burn some papers, and write a letter to Mrs. Natuan begging her to spend the first few weeks after her... (she dared not write the word "death") —to take care of her brother. The doctor couldn't do anything, the condition was too dangerous, and her physical strength was worn out by years of hard work. Andonard was very calm.Since she learned that she was sorry, she was relieved instead.She recalled one by one the trials and tribulations she had suffered in the past; seeing that she had succeeded, that dear Olivier had been saved: she felt an indescribable joy."This is my grade," she thought. But she blamed her pride: "I couldn't do it alone. God helped me." So she thanked God for allowing her to live to this day so that she could fulfill her mission.Sad as she was to leave the world at this time, she dared not complain: that would be to forget the kindness of God, who might have called her years earlier.And what would have happened if she had died a year earlier? ——Thinking of this, she sighed and forbeared with a grateful heart. Although she was having difficulty breathing, she didn't complain—except when she was falling asleep, she sometimes hummed a few times like a child.At this time, she looked at people and things with an optimistic mood.And he was especially delighted to see Olivier.She didn't open her mouth, she just moved her mouth to insult him, asking him to rest his head on her pillow: then her eyes met, she silently looked at him for a long time.At last, she raised herself up, took his head tightly in her hands, and cried: "Ah! Olivier! . . . Olivier! . . . " She took the holy tablet from her neck and hung it around her brother's neck.She entrusted Olivier to her confessor, to the doctor, to everyone.Others felt that she had been entrusted to her brother since then, and had escaped into his life, as if he were an island in the sea.Sometimes, intoxicated by the mysterious excitement of passion and faith, she forgot the pain of the flesh.Sorrow turned to joy,—the joy of the gods,—shone on her mouth, and in her eyes.She said again and again: "I am very happy..." She gradually lost consciousness.The last time she was awake, she moved her lips, muttering something.Olivier went to the head of the bed and leaned over her.She still recognized him, and smiled weakly at him, her lips were still trembling, and there were tears in her eyes.People could not hear what she wanted to say... But Olivier caught a few lines like catching a breath, it was an old song she used to sing for him that they both liked very much: I will come again, my dear, I will come again... Then she fell into a coma again...she left the world. Usually, she unknowingly touched many people she didn't know, and they sympathized with her very much.Even in the same house, the tenants whose names she did not know were the same.Olivier was greeted by many complete strangers.Antoinette's funeral was not as lonely as her mother's.Olivier's friend and classmate, she has taught ①Old Christians often wear small round silver badges close to their bodies.The badge is engraved with a picture of Jesus or the Virgin Mary.Her family, as well as those she met quietly, did not know each other's life experience, but those who knew her loyalty and admired her, and even some poor people, women who worked part-time at her home, and children in the neighborhood Merchants, all came to take her to the cemetery.On the day of her death, Olivier was forcibly invited by Mrs. Natuan, and he was so miserable that he had no idea. It was indeed the only time in his life when he could bear such a calamity—only then when he was not completely overwhelmed by disappointment.He had just begun to live a new life, being in the middle of a group, being pushed by everyone involuntarily.The homework and worries in school, the enthusiasm for knowledge, the big and small exams, and the struggle for life prevented him from being mentally alone and hiding on the sidelines.For this he suffered greatly; but thanks to this he was saved.A year earlier or a few years later, he would be finished. However, he tried his best to hide and miss his sister.He was sad not to be able to keep the former home they shared: he didn't have the money.He hoped that those who seemed to care about him would understand the sadness of his inability to keep what was hers.But no one understands.He borrowed a little money, and together with the tuition fees for other people, he rented a penthouse and piled up all his sister's furniture: her bed, her table, and her armchair.He used that room as a sanctuary in memory of her, and hid there when his spirits fell.His classmates thought he was having an affair.He actually spends hours here thinking of her, his head in his hands: all he has is a small photograph of her, taken together when they were children.He was talking to the picture, crying... where did she go?Ah, as long as she is in the world, even in the remotest corners of the world, even in places that can't be reached, with what enthusiasm and joyful heart he will go to look for her, no matter how hard it is, and no matter how long he travels. Hundreds of years, as long as every step is closer to her! ... Yes, even if he had only a thousandth chance of meeting her ... but there was no way.How lonely he is!Now without her love, without her guidance and comfort, how clumsy and naive is his way of dealing with life! …Whoever has met a friendly heart once in the world, and experienced the state of utter devotion, has tasted the joy of heaven and earth—a joy that will be troubled for the rest of his life... For an ordinary weak and gentle soul, nothing is more unfortunate than a taste of the greatest happiness. The loss of a loved one early in life is sad, but not as cruel as later when the vigor declines.Olivier was in his youth; despite his natural pessimism and misfortune, he needed to live.It seems that Antoinette handed over part of her soul to her brother when she died.He believed so.Although he doesn't have faith like his sister, he also vaguely believes that her sister is not completely dead, but is reborn in his heart as she said.There is a belief in Bretagne that young men who die young do not die: they continue to float in the place where they lived until the end of their days. ——In this way, Antoinette seemed to continue to grow up beside Olivier. He read her paper again.Unfortunately she burned almost everything.And she's not one to document her inner life.She would blush to expose her thoughts.She had only a little diary, in which she kept things that no one else could understand,--days without explanation, commemorating the sad and happy trifles of her life, which she could write without writing down the details. I can recall all of them.All these days are almost related to the life of Olivier.She also kept all the letters he wrote to her, not missing a single one. —unfortunately he was not so careful: almost all she had written to him had been lost.What did he want those letters for?He thinks that his sister is always by his side, that the spring of warmth is endless, and can soak his lips and heart forever; he wasted the love he got without foresight, but now he can't wait to take it bit by bit Storing it away... He casually flipped through a collection of poems by Andonard, and suddenly saw some pencil writing on a piece of torn paper: "Olivier, dear Olivier!..." He almost read it. Son fainted.He howled, desperately kissing the invisible mouth that spoke to him in the grave. ——From that day on, he opened all her books, page by page, to see if she had left any other confidantes.He discovered the manuscript of her letter to Christophe, and only then did he know the rudimentary romance hidden in her heart; for the first time, he glimpsed her emotional life that he never knew and did not want to know. In the last few days of turmoil, I fully experienced the feeling of being abandoned by my brother and reaching out to a friend I didn't know.She never told him that she had seen Christophe.He found out from the letter that they had met in Germany before, and that Christophe had been very kind to his sister. Of course, he couldn't know the details, but he only knew that the feelings that Antoinard had not expressed until his death were aroused at that time. Olivier had already liked Christophe because of Christophe's music, and now he had an indescribable love for him.She had loved him; Olivier felt that he loved Christophe, but he loved her.He tried his best to get close to him, but it was not easy to find his trace.After that failure, Christophe disappeared in the crowd of Paris; he withdrew from society, and no one paid attention to him.A few months later, Olivier met Christophe by chance on the street, who was pale and haggard after recovering from a serious illness.But he didn't have the courage to go up to greet him, so he followed from a distance until he lived.He wanted to write to him, but couldn't make up his mind.What should I write?Olivier is not alone, there is Antoinette with him in spirit: her love, her concept of chastity, all infected him; Blushing, as if he was Antoinette.On the other hand, he did want to talk to him about her. —but no.Her secret gagged him. He tried to meet Christophe.He went wherever he thought Christophe might go.He longed passionately to be close to him.But when they met, he hid again, lest he be found out. Finally, they participated in a night party at a friend's house together, and Christophe finally noticed him.Olivier stood far away, without saying a word, just looking at him.Antoinette must have been with Olivier that night: because Christophe saw her in Olivier's eyes; The young messenger went to receive the sad and tender homage of the happy dead.