"De Balzac, Honore - Modeste Mignon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Balzac Honore De)

Though short, thick-set, pockmarked, and speaking always in a low
voice as if listening to himself, this Breton, a former lieutenant in
the Guard, showed the evidence of such resolution, such sang-froid on
his face that throughout life, even in the army, no one had ever
ventured to trifle with him. His little eyes, of a calm blue, were
like bits of steel. His ways, the look on his face, his speech, his
carriage, were all in keeping with the short name of Dumay. His
physical strength, well-known to every one, put him above all danger
of attack. He was able to kill a man with a blow of his fist, and had
performed that feat at Bautzen, where he found himself, unarmed, face
to face with a Saxon at the rear of his company. At the present moment
the usually firm yet gentle expression of the man's face had risen to
a sort of tragic sublimity; his lips were pale as the rest of his
face, indicating a tumult within him mastered by his Breton will; a
slight sweat, which every one noticed and guessed to be cold,
moistened his brow. The notary knew but too well that these signs
might result in a drama before the criminal courts. In fact the
cashier was playing a part in connection with Modeste Mignon, which
involved to his mind sentiments of honor and loyalty of far greater
importance than mere social laws; and his present conduct proceeded
from one of those compacts which, in case disaster came of it, could
be judged only in a higher court than one of earth. The majority of
dramas lie really in the ideas which we make to ourselves about
things. Events which seem to us dramatic are nothing more than
subjects which our souls convert into tragedy or comedy according to
the bent of our characters.

Madame Latournelle and Madame Dumay, who were appointed to watch
Modeste, had a certain assumed stiffness of demeanor and a quiver in
their voices, which the suspected party did not notice, so absorbed
was she in her embroidery. Modeste laid each thread of cotton with a
precision that would have made an ordinary workwoman desperate. Her
face expressed the pleasure she took in the smooth petals of the
flower she was working. The dwarf, seated between his mistress and
Gobenheim, restrained his emotion, trying to find means to approach
Modeste and whisper a word of warning in her ear.

By taking a position in front of Madame Mignon, Madame Latournelle,
with the diabolical intelligence of conscientious duty, had isolated
Modeste. Madame Mignon, whose blindness always made her silent, was
even paler than usual, showing plainly that she was aware of the test
to which her daughter was about to be subjected. Perhaps at the last
moment she revolted from the stratagem, necessary as it might seem to
her. Hence her silence; she was weeping inwardly. Exupere, the spring
of the trap, was wholly ignorant of the piece in which he was to play
a part. Gobenheim, by reason of his character, remained in a state of
indifference equal to that displayed by Modeste. To a spectator who
understood the situation, this contrast between the ignorance of some
and the palpitating interest of others would have seemed quite poetic.