LXVI

La Sauvage made out a preliminary statement accounting for three hundred and sixty francs, and then proceeded to prepare a dinner for four persons. And what a dinner! A fat goose (the cobbler's pheasant) by way of a substantial roast, an omelette with preserves, a salad, and the inevitable broth—the quantities of the ingredients for this last being so excessive that the soup was more like a strong meat-jelly. At nine o'clock the priest, sent by the curate to watch by the dead, came in with Cantinet, who brought four tall wax candles and some tapers. In the death-chamber Schmucke was lying with his arms about the body of his friend, holding him in a tight clasp; nothing but the authority of religion availed to separate him from his dead. Then the priest settled himself comfortably in the easy-chair and read his prayers while Schmucke, kneeling beside the couch, besought God to work a miracle and unite him to Pons, so that they might be buried in the same grave; and Mme. Cantinet went on her way to the Temple to buy a pallet and complete bedding for Mme. Sauvage. The twelve hundred and fifty francs were regarded as plunder. At eleven o'clock Mme. Cantinet came in to ask if Schmucke would not eat a morsel, but with a gesture he signified that he wished to be left in peace.

Your supper is ready, M. Pastelot, she said, addressing the priest, and they went.

Schmucke, left alone in the room, smiled to himself like a madman free at last to gratify a desire like the longing of pregnancy. He flung himself down beside Pons, and yet again he held his friend in a long, close embrace. At midnight the priest came back and scolded him, and Schmucke returned to his prayers. At daybreak the priest went, and at seven o'clock in the morning the doctor came to see Schmucke, and spoke kindly and tried hard to persuade him to eat, but the German refused.

If you do not eat now you will feel very hungry when you come back, the doctor told him, "for you must go to the mayor's office and take a witness with you, so that the registrar may issue a certificate of death."

I must go! cried Schmucke in frightened tones.

Who else?... You must go, for you were the one person who saw him die.

Mein legs vill nicht carry me, pleaded Schmucke, imploring the doctor to come to the rescue.

Take a cab, the hypocritical doctor blandly suggested. "I have given notice already. Ask some one in the house to go with you. The two women will look after the place while you are away."

No one imagines how the requirements of the law jar upon a heartfelt sorrow. The thought of it is enough to make one turn from civilization and choose rather the customs of the savage. At nine o'clock that morning Mme. Sauvage half-carried Schmucke downstairs, and from the cab he was obliged to beg Remonencq to come with him to the registrar as a second witness. Here in Paris, in this land of ours besotted with Equality, the inequality of conditions is glaringly apparent everywhere and in everything. The immutable tendency of things peeps out even in the practical aspects of Death. In well-to-do families, a relative, a friend, or a man of business spares the mourners these painful details; but in this, as in the matter of taxation, the whole burden falls heaviest upon the shoulders of the poor.

Ah! you have good reason to regret him, said Remonencq in answer to the poor martyr's moan; "he was a very good, a very honest man, and he has left a fine collection behind him. But being a foreigner, sir, do you know that you are like to find yourself in a great predicament—for everybody says that M. Pons left everything to you?"

Schmucke was not listening. He was sounding the dark depths of sorrow that border upon madness. There is such a thing as tetanus of the soul.

And you would do well to find some one—some man of business—to advise you and act for you, pursued Remonencq.

Ein mann of pizness! echoed Schmucke.

You will find that you will want some one to act for you. If I were you, I should take an experienced man, somebody well known to you in the quarter, a man you can trust.... I always go to Tabareau myself for my bits of affairs—he is the bailiff. If you give his clerk power to act for you, you need not trouble yourself any further.

Remonencq and La Cibot, prompted by Fraisier, had agreed beforehand to make a suggestion which stuck in Schmucke's memory; for there are times in our lives when grief, as it were, congeals the mind by arresting all its functions, and any chance impression made at such moments is retained by a frost-bound memory. Schmucke heard his companion with such a fixed, mindless stare, that Remonencq said no more.

If he is always to be idiotic like this, thought Remonencq, "I might easily buy the whole bag of tricks up yonder for a hundred thousand francs; if it is really his.... Here we are at the mayor's office, sir."

Remonencq was obliged to take Schmucke out of the cab and to half-carry him to the registrar's department, where a wedding-party was assembled. Here they had to wait for their turn, for, by no very uncommon chance, the clerk had five or six certificates to make out that morning; and here it was appointed that poor Schmucke should suffer excruciating anguish.

Monsieur is M. Schmucke? remarked a person in a suit of black, reducing Schmucke to stupefaction by the mention of his name. He looked up with the same blank, unseeing eyes that he had turned upon Remonencq, who now interposed.

What do you want with him? he said. "Just leave him in peace; you can plainly see that he is in trouble."

The gentleman has just lost his friend, and proposes, no doubt, to do honor to his memory, being, as he is, the sole heir. The gentleman, no doubt, will not haggle over it, he will buy a piece of ground outright for a grave. And as M. Pons was such a lover of the arts, it would be a great pity not to put Music, Painting, and Sculpture on his tomb—three handsome full-length figures, weeping—

Remonencq waved the speaker away, in Auvergnat fashion, but the man replied with another gesture, which being interpreted means "Don't spoil sport;" a piece of commercial free-masonry, as it were, which the dealer understood.

I represent the firm of Sonet and Company, monumental stone-masons; Sir Walter Scott would have dubbed me Young Mortality, continued this person. "If you, sir, should decide to intrust your orders to us, we would spare you the trouble of the journey to purchase the ground necessary for the interment of a friend lost to the arts—"

At this Remonencq nodded assent, and jogged Schmucke's elbow.

Every day we receive orders from families to arrange all formalities, continued he of the black coat, thus encouraged by Remonencq. "In the first moment of bereavement, the heir-at-law finds it very difficult to attend to such matters, and we are accustomed to perform these little services for our clients. Our charges, sir, are on a fixed scale, so much per foot, freestone or marble. Family vaults a specialty.—We undertake everything at the most moderate prices. Our firm executed the magnificent monument erected to the fair Esther Gobseck and Lucien de Rubempre, one of the finest ornaments of Pere-Lachaise. We only employ the best workmen, and I must warn you, sir, against small contractors—who turn out nothing but trash," he added, seeing that another person in a black suit was coming up to say a word for another firm of marble-workers.

六十六、看护女人趁火打劫

开了三百六十法郎的第一笔账之后，梭伐女人开始预备一顿四个人吃的夜饭。多么丰盛的夜饭！正菜有肥鹅，有果酱炒蛋，还有生菜，还有最后那个什锦砂锅，作料之多，把肉汤变成了肉冻。晚上九点，本堂神父派来守灵的教士到了，同来的还有刚蒂南，带着四支大蜡烛和教堂里的烛台。教士发觉许模克睡在死人床上，紧紧地抱着邦斯。直要人家拿出教会的威严，他才放开尸身，跪在地上祷告。他求上帝来一个奇迹，使他能够跟邦斯相会，葬在一个墓穴内。教士舒舒服服地埋在沙发里念他的祷文。这时刚蒂南太太又上修院大街替梭伐女人买了一张帆布床和全套被褥。她们想法把一千二百五十六法郎的钱袋尽量搜刮。十一点，刚蒂南太太来问许模克可要吃点东西。他做了个手势教人别打搅他。

于是她转身招呼教士：“巴德罗先生，夜饭预备好啦！”

许模克看见人都走了，便露出点笑容，好比一个疯子觉得可以为所欲为，实现像孕妇那样急切的愿望了。他又上床紧紧抱着邦斯。半夜，教士回进屋子，许模克受了埋怨，只得放开邦斯，重新做他的祷告。天一亮，教士走了。七点钟，波冷医生很亲热地来看许模克，想逼他吃东西；可是他拒绝了。

医生说：“现在要不吃，你回来就得肚子饿；因为你得带着证人上区公所报告死亡，领一张死亡证书……”

“要我去吗？”德国人骇然地问。

“不是你是谁？……这责任你逃不了的，因为看着邦斯死的只有你一个人……”

“我没有时间……”许模克向波冷带着哀求的口吻。

“你可以雇辆车，”假仁假义的医生挺和气地回答，“我已经代表公家验过死亡。你找个邻居陪你去吧。你不在的时候，这两位太太会替你看屋子的。”

法律要跟一个伤心的人找多少麻烦，真是想象不到的。那简直要教人恨文明而觉得野蛮人的风俗可爱了。到九点，梭伐太太扶着许模克下楼，他上了马车，不得不临时请雷蒙诺克陪他上区公所，去证明邦斯的死。法国人醉心平等，可是在巴黎，每样事情都显出不平等。哪怕死个人，也有这个永远消灭不了的分别。在有钱的人家，一个亲戚，一个朋友，或是经纪人，就能替悲伤的家属把这些不愉快的小事给担任了；但报告死亡等等的手续正如分派捐税一样，所有的重担都压在没人帮忙的平民与穷人身上。

雷蒙诺克听见可怜的受难者长叹了一声，便说：“啊！你可惜他真是应该的，他人多好，多正派，留下多美的收藏；可是先生，你是外国人，你可知道马上要惹是招非了吗？因为人家到处说着，你是邦斯先生的继承人。”

许模克根本没有听；他的悲伤差不多使他变了呆子，精神像肉体一样也会害“强直病”的。

“你最好还是请个顾问，找个经纪人做代表。”

“经纪人！”许模克莫名其妙地答应了一句。

“慢慢你会觉得，你不能不有个代表。我要是你，我就找个有经验的，在街坊上有名气的，可以信托的人……我平常办些小事都托执达吏泰勃罗……只要写份委托书交给他的书记，就什么都不用操心啦。”

这番暗示，原是弗莱齐埃出了主意，由西卜女人和雷蒙诺克讲妥的，从此就深深地印在许模克的脑子里。凡是因痛苦而精神停止活动的时候，一个人的记忆会接受一切无意中得来的印象。雷蒙诺克看见许模克听着他的话，眼神像白痴一般，也就不说下去了。

他心里想：“他要老是这样呆头呆脑，我可以花十万法郎把楼上那些东西统统买下来，只要是他承继——先生，区公所到了。”

雷蒙诺克不得不搀许模克下车，扶着他走到民政科，许模克一闯闯到登记结婚的一堆里。像巴黎常有的那种巧事，登记员手头有五六份死亡证书要办，许模克只能等着，那时他的受罪仿佛上了十字架的基督。

“这位是许模克先生吗？”一个穿黑衣服的人过来招呼德国人。他听见有人叫他的名字，愣了一愣，呆子似的望着来人，像他刚才望着雷蒙诺克一样。

“你找他干吗？”旧货商问陌生人，“别打搅他，你没看见他伤心得很吗？”

“我知道先生才死了个好朋友，”陌生人说，“他是继承人，一定想给朋友留点儿纪念吧。我看先生决不爱惜小钱，会买一块永久的墓地的。邦斯先生多爱艺术！他墓地上要没有三座美丽的全身神像，代表音乐、绘画、雕塑追悼他，不是太可惜了吗？……”

雷蒙诺克拿出奥弗涅人的功架，做了个手势想教那人走开；可是那人也回敬他一个生意人的手势，意思是说：“生意也得大家做！”旧货商马上明白了。

“鄙人是索南公司的伙计，”那跑街接着说，照沃尔特·司各特的笔法，他可以被称为墓园掮客[1]，“敝公司的业务是专办墓地纪念像，倘若先生向敝公司订货，我们可以向市政府代买墓地，安葬这位朋友，他的故世的确是艺术界的损失……”

雷蒙诺克摇头摆脑表示赞成，又用肘子碰了一下许模克。

跑街看见奥弗涅人好似在鼓励他，便往下说：“每天都有人委托敝公司代办一切手续。办丧事的时候，继承人往往哀伤过度，照顾不到这些小事，我们可是代客服务惯的。先生，我们的纪念像按高度计算，材料有石灰石的，有大理石的……我们也承包全家合葬的坟墓工程，大小事务都可代办，取费公道。哀斯丹·高勃萨克小姐和吕西安·特·鲁邦泼莱的纪念雕刻，就是敝公司承办的，那是拉雪兹公墓上最美的装饰。敝公司的工匠都是好手，你先生千万别上小公司的当……他们的货色都偷工减料。”他这么补上一句，因为又有个穿黑衣服的人走近前来，预备替另一家大理石铺子招揽生意。

注解：

[1]　按沃尔特·司各特有部小说叫作Old Mortality，是个专雕墓地纪念像的人的诨名。