Chapter 177 Yayunshi touches granite

This is where Marius came when he left Paris for the first time.This is where he came every time M. Gillenormand called him "sleeping out." Theodule suddenly faced a tomb by accident, and completely lost his mind. He felt an awkward and strange feeling in his heart, which he could not analyze. His respect for the solitary tomb was mixed with respect for a colonel.He retreated hastily, leaving Marius alone in the cemetery, with discipline in his retreat.It was as if the dead man appeared before him with broad epaulettes, forcing him to almost salute him.He didn't know what to write to his aunt, so he simply didn't write anything.The discovery of Theodule in relation to the love of Marius would have had no consequences, if this incident on the part of Vernon had not immediately set off another twist in Paris by that mysterious arrangement of the common and the accidental. .

Marius returned to his grandfather's house early in the morning of the third day.After two nights of travel fatigue, he felt that he needed an hour of swimming to compensate for his insomnia, so he hurried upstairs to his room, hurriedly took off his traveling clothes and the black belt around his neck, and arrived at the hotel. Went to the bath. M. Gillenormand, like all healthy old people, got up early in the morning, and when he heard his return, he hurried up the stairs with the top speed of his old legs to the garret where Marius lived, with the intention of embracing him. , and touched his bottom in the embrace, to know a little bit where he came back from.

But the young man came down faster than the eighty-year-old came up, and when Father Gillenormand entered the garret, Marius was no longer there. The quilt on the bed was untouched, but the travel suit and the black belt were spread out on the bed unsuspectingly. "That's better," said M. Gillenormand. After a while he came into the drawing-room, where Miss Gillenormand was sitting embroidering her wagons. M. Gillenormand entered triumphantly. He held the traveling suit in one hand and the sash around his neck in the other, and shouted: "Victory! We're about to unravel the secret! We'll be clear in no time, and the truth will be revealed! We've got the bottom of this quiet philanderer! His love story is here! I've got Her picture!"

Indeed, hanging from that strap was a round case of black cotton leather, much like a photograph case. The old man held the box and looked at it for a long time, but he was not in a hurry to open it. His expression was intoxicated, and his heart was both happy and annoyed, just like a very hungry poor looking at a plate of delicious food. Hit him under the nose and pass it, but it's not for his enjoyment. "It's obviously a picture. That's right. It's a thing that's always been sweetly attached to your heart. How stupid these people are! Maybe it's just a slut who makes people's hair stand on end and looks ugly! Today The tastes of these young people are indeed not high!"

"Let's see before we talk, Dad," said the old girl. Press the spring and the box will open.There was nothing there but a neatly folded piece of paper. "It's always the same thing," M. Gillenormand laughed aloud. "I know what it is. A letter of commitment!" "Ah! Read it quickly!" said my aunt. She quickly put on her glasses, opened the paper and read: The feelings of the father and daughter are indescribable.They felt as if they were frozen by a blast of cold air blowing from the skull.They didn't exchange a word.Only M. Gillenormand said in a low voice, as if to himself:

"This is the handwriting of the swordsman." My aunt held the paper upside down, studied it carefully, and then put it back in the box. Just then, a rectangular blue paper package fell out of one of the pockets of the traveling suit.Mademoiselle Gillenormand picked it up and opened the blue paper.Here are the hundred cards of Marius.She took out one and handed it to M. Gillenormand, who read: "Baron Marius Pontmerche." The old man rang the bell and Nicolette came in.M. Gillenormand seized up the black belt, the box, and the clothes, threw them on the floor in the middle of the drawing-room, and said:

"Take the junk back." A whole hour passed in absolute silence.The old man and the old girl sat back to back, each thinking about their own things, perhaps the same thing. An hour later, Aunt Gillenormand said: "outstanding!" After a while, Marius appeared.He just came back.Before he entered the door, he saw his grandfather holding his card in his hand, and seeing him enter, he exclaimed with the stinging, sarcastic haughtiness of gentlemen: "Excellent! Excellent! Excellent! Excellent! Excellent! You are now a lord. I congratulate you. What on earth does that mean?"

Marius blushed slightly, and replied: "That is to say, I am my father's son." M. Gillenormand put away his smile and said sharply: "Your father is me." "My father," said Marius, with lowered eyes and solemn expression, "was a humble and heroic man, who served the Republic and France with honor, and who was a great man, who lived in camp for a quarter of a century, under shells and bullets by day, under rain, snow and mud at night, captured two flags, received twenty wounds, and died But forgotten and abandoned, he made only one mistake in his life, that is: he loved two ungrateful fellows too much, the country and me!"

This was no longer acceptable to M. Gillenormand.At the mention of the word "Republic" he stood up, or, more properly, he erected himself.Everything Marius had said just now had the effect on the face of the old royalist like a gust of hot air blown from a blast furnace onto embers.His face turned from gloomy to red, from red to purple, from purple to blazing. "Marius!" he roared, "foolish boy! I don't know what your father is! I don't want to know! I don't know what he did! I don't know the man! But I do, and in this gang There ain't a man who isn't a rascal! They're all paupers, murderers, red hats, thieves! I say all! I say all! I don't know any! I say all, do you hear, Ma? Luce! Do you understand, you are my lord, just like my slippers! All those robbers who worked for Robespierre! All the robbers who worked for Bou-wan-na-ba! Traitors, traitors, traitors to their legitimate king! Cowards who ran for their lives from the Prussians and Englishmen at Waterloo! See! That's all I know. If your lord In it, then I don't know, I'm angry, and deserve it, your servant!"

Now Marius was a burning coal, M. Gillenormand a hot wind.Marius trembled all over, he did not know what to do, his head was on fire.He was like a priest who watched the wafers being thrown all over the floor, or a monk who saw passers-by spit on his idol.It is not acceptable to say such things in front of him without punishment.But what to do?His father was trampled on for a while in front of him just now, by whom?by his maternal grandfather.How can one avenge the one without offending the other?He couldn't insult his grandfather, but he couldn't help avenging his father.On the one hand is a sacred solitary tomb, on the other hand is a head full of white hair.All this was spinning and conflicting in his mind, he was top-heavy and reeling, and then he raised his eyes, stared at his grandfather fiercely, and roared like a thunderbolt:

"Down with Bourbon, down with Louis XVIII, fat pig!" Louis XVIII has been dead for four years, but he can't control so much. The old man, whose face was bright red, suddenly became whiter than his hair.He turned to a bust of the Duc de Berry on the mantelpiece, and bowed deeply with strange solemnity.Then he walked twice slowly and silently back and forth from the fireplace to the window, and from the window to the fireplace, across the living room, rattling the floorboards like a living stone man.Walking back a second time, he bent over his daughter, who was like an old sheep dazed by conflict, and said to her with an almost calm smile: "It is impossible for a lord like that gentleman and a commoner like me to live under the same roof." Then, straightening up suddenly, bluish, trembling, gnashing his brows, his brow enlarged by that frightful gleam of rage, he stretched out his arms, and pointing at Marius, he shouted: "Get out." Marius left the family. The next day M. Gillenormand said to his daughter: "You send sixty pistoles to this vampire every six months. From now on, you must never mention him to me again." Since he still had a lot of anger to dissipate, but he didn't know what to do, he called his daughter "you" for more than three months in a row. As for Marius, he stormed out of the gate.There was one incident which should be mentioned which aggravated his indignation.In the family's misfortune, we often encounter such small accidents, which make the situation more complicated.Although the mistakes did not increase, the enmity deepened.That Nicolette, who, at her grandfather's orders, had accidentally lost the round black gin case in which the Colonel's will was written, when she had hurried back to Marius's "trash" to his house, Perhaps it fell on the stairs leading up to the attic, where the sun never shines.Neither the paper nor the circular box can be found again.Marius was convinced that "Monsieur Gillenormand"—whom he no longer called him by any other name—had thrown "his father's will" into the fire.He had learned by heart the few lines written by the colonel, so he had nothing to lose.But that paper, that ink, that sacred relic, that all, was his own heart.And how do others treat it? Marius went away without saying where he was going, or knowing where he was going, with thirty francs, a watch, and a bag for everyday utensils and clothes.He hired a streetcar, agreed that it would be metered by the hour, and walked aimlessly towards the Latin Quarter. What will happen to Marius?