Chapter 125 Wu Jianlang

Above the door of the cafeteria, there is a prayer written in big black letters called the "White Lord's Prayer", which is said to have the magic power to guide righteous people into heaven: In 1827 the stylized prayer had disappeared on the wall under three coats of mortar.Up to now, it has almost disappeared from the memories of the young girls of those days and the old women of today. We seem to have already mentioned that the refectory had only one door, which opened onto the garden, and a large crucifix hung on the wall to complete the decoration in the refectory.Two narrow tables, each flanked by a wooden bench, formed two long parallel lines running from one end of the mess hall to the other.The walls were white, the table black, and these two funeral colors were the only hues in the convent.The diet is rough, and the nutrition of the children is also tightly fastened.There is only one dish, meat and vegetables put together, or salted fish, which can be regarded as a teeth-beating festival.This kind of simple meal specially prepared for board students is an exception.The children ate in silence under the watchful eye of a weekly nurse who would open a board book and snap it shut whenever a fly dared to buzz in violation of the house rules.There is a small podium under the crucifixion cross, and a monopod is placed on the podium, and someone stands on that podium to read the biography of the saint as the seasoning of the silence.The announcer is an older student, also a weekly student.On the bare table, at regular intervals, stood lacquered pointed basins, where the students themselves washed their tin plates and other tableware, sometimes throwing in unpalatable things, hard meat. Or smelly fish and the like, that will be punished.They call that pointed basin a round water bowl.

A child who eats and talks has to make the cross with his tongue.Where is the painting?on the ground.She has to lick the ground.Dust, at the end of all merriment, is responsible for punishing those rose petals who are offended by their chatter. There is a book in that monastery, and only one "solitary copy" has ever been printed, and it is forbidden to read. It is the canon of Saint Benoit, and it is a secret that the common eye cannot pry into. "Our regulations or our institutions are not humane." One day the boarding students actually stole the book and read it intently, but at the same time they were afraid of being discovered, and stopped several times to close the book.The pleasure they get from taking so much risk is limited.What they thought was "most interesting" were the few pages that were unclear about boys committing crimes.

They often played on the path in the garden, and there were some bad fruit trees planted beside the path.Despite careful supervision and severe punishment, when the wind shakes the branches, they can sometimes stealthily pick up an unripe apple, rotten apricot or a wormy pear.Now I let a letter I have at hand, written twenty-five years ago, by a boarder who is today the Duchess of ___, one of the most elegant ladies in Paris.I copied the original: "We try to hide our pears or apples as best we can. We tuck those things under our pillows when we go upstairs before dinner to put on our masks, and eat them in bed at night, if we can't." , and eat it in the toilet.” That was one of their most exciting ecstasy.

Once again, during the period when the Archbishop was visiting the convent, a Mademoiselle Bouchard, who was more or less connected with Montmorency, made a bet that she would ask for a day off, which is a big deal on such a solemn occasion. nonsense.Many people bet against her, but no one believed it was possible.When the time came, the archbishop passed before the boarders, and Mademoiselle Bouchard, to the horror of her fellow students, stepped out of the procession and said: "My lord, please give me a day off." Mademoiselle Bouchard was a glamorous woman , a girl with a tall figure and the most beautiful ruddy face in the world.Mr. de Guilan smiled and said: "Where, my dear boy, one day off! Three days, okay? I will allow three days off." The dean was helpless, and the archbishop's words had already been spoken.All the nuns thought it inappropriate, but not one of the boarders was displeased.Just think about the consequences.

However, the glaring monastery was not so tightly sealed off, and it was not impossible for the demons and demons outside to fly in.To prove this, we simply state and point out here an indisputably true fact, which has nothing to do with the story we have narrated.We have brought that up in order to give the reader a complete mental picture of what that monastery was like. At that time there was a mysterious figure in the monastery. She was not a monk, but everyone respected her very much and called her Madame Albertin.Everyone only knew that she was insane but didn't know her life experience, and the world also regarded her as a dead person.It is said that in her personal experience, there was a property dispute caused by her marriage with a famous family.

The woman was nearly thirty years old, dark-haired, quite beautiful, with long eyes and black eyes, which looked human but lifeless.Can she see it?No one is sure.She walks like floating instead of walking, she never speaks, and no one can be sure whether she is breathing or not.Her nostrils were shaved and blue, like those of a dead person.Touching her hand was like touching snow.She has a strange, ghostly air about her.Wherever she went, there was a gust of cold air.One day a nun saw her go by and said to another nun, "Everyone thinks she's dead." "She might be dead," replied the other.

There are endless legends about Madame Alberting.She was the weirdo that board students never tire of talking about.There is a platform in that chapel called "Bull's Eye Platform".There was only one round window on the dais, the "bull's-eye window," in which Madame Albertin attended her lessons.She often stayed up there alone, because the terrace was upstairs, and from it she could see the preacher or the priest, which the nuns were not allowed to see.One day a young prelate came to the pulpit, Monsieur Duc de Roanne, Minister of France, officer of the Red Fusiliers in 1815, who was also the Prince of Léon, and died after 1830 at Cardinal and Archbishop of Besançon.It was the first time that M. de Roan had preached at the Little Piccubs Convent.Madame Albertin was always quiet and motionless when she attended the sermons and classes.That day, as soon as she caught sight of M. de Rohan, she half rose, and out of the stillness of the chapel she exclaimed: "Oh! Auguste!" He glanced up, but Madame Albertine had returned to her state of complete inactivity.A breeze from the outside world, a gleam of life's gleam, passed for a moment over the chilled and icy face, but then all was gone again, and the madman became a corpse again.

But those few words called out all that could be said in the seminary. "Yo! August!" How much is hidden here!How much information has been leaked!Mr. de Roan's nickname is indeed Auguste, which shows that Mrs. Albertin was born in the upper class, because she knew Mr. de Roan, and it also shows that she herself has a high status in that society, because she Calling such a noble person in such an intimate tone also shows that she has a relationship with him, maybe a relative relationship, but it must be quite close, because she knows his "nickname". Two very severe duchesses, Madame de Choiseul and Madame Serran, who visited the convent frequently, must have entered with the special status of dame, to the great horror of the boarders.The poor young girls lowered their eyes and trembled as the two old ladies passed by.

Besides, Mr. de Rohan was still the object of the attention of the boarders, but he himself did not know it.At that time he had not long been appointed archdeacon of the Archbishop of Paris, and had hoped to be promoted to bishop.It was not uncommon for him to come and sing hymns in the chapel of the little Piccubus nuns.None of the young monks could see him because of the serge curtain, but he had a soft, slightly thinner voice that they could distinguish.He was a musketeer, and he was said to be groomed, with beautiful chestnut hair combed in a neat tumbler round his head, a gorgeous black band around his waist, and his black frock robes, the most cut in the world. beautiful.He upset the teenage girls quite a bit.

No sound from outside ever reached the monastery.But one year, someone's flute flew in.It was a big event, and the boarding students at that time still remember it. Someone is playing a flute near there.It's always been an old tune, and it seems to be quite old today: "My Zetibe girl, come and rule my soul."During the day, he could always be heard blowing for two or three bursts. Those young girls could listen to it for hours, and the nuns got anxious and used their brains, and the punishment rained down on everyone's head.This situation continued for several months.The boarding students have a little bit of admiration for the musician who never showed up.Everyone dreams of being Zetibe.The sound of the flute came from the other side of Zhibi Street. They were willing to abandon everything, risk everything, and try their best to have a look, even if it was just for a second. Wonderful, but at the same time must put the whole soul into playing the "youth".A few sneaked out through the servant's door, climbed to the third floor on the side facing Zhibi Street, and tried to look out from the nailed windows, but failed.One even stretched her arms high over the bars, and raised her white handkerchief.The other two were even more daring. They found a way, climbed up to the roof, and finally saw the "young man".It was an old exiled nobleman, blind and poor, who sat in his garret and played his flute to amuse himself.