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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 248/1279
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Such
of
my
readers
as
have
made
a
pedestrian
excursion
to
the
south
of
France
may
perchance
have
noticed
,
about
midway
between
the
town
of
Beaucaire
and
the
village
of
Bellegarde
--
a
little
nearer
to
the
former
than
to
the
latter
--
a
small
roadside
inn
,
from
the
front
of
which
hung
,
creaking
and
flapping
in
the
wind
,
a
sheet
of
tin
covered
with
a
grotesque
representation
of
the
Pont
du
Gard
.
This
modern
place
of
entertainment
stood
on
the
left-hand
side
of
the
post
road
,
and
backed
upon
the
Rhone
.
It
also
boasted
of
what
in
Languedoc
is
styled
a
garden
,
consisting
of
a
small
plot
of
ground
,
on
the
side
opposite
to
the
main
entrance
reserved
for
the
reception
of
guests
.
A
few
dingy
olives
and
stunted
fig-trees
struggled
hard
for
existence
,
but
their
withered
dusty
foliage
abundantly
proved
how
unequal
was
the
conflict
.
Between
these
sickly
shrubs
grew
a
scanty
supply
of
garlic
,
tomatoes
,
and
eschalots
;
while
,
lone
and
solitary
,
like
a
forgotten
sentinel
,
a
tall
pine
raised
its
melancholy
head
in
one
of
the
corners
of
this
unattractive
spot
,
and
displayed
its
flexible
stem
and
fan-shaped
summit
dried
and
cracked
by
the
fierce
heat
of
the
sub-tropical
sun
.
In
the
surrounding
plain
,
which
more
resembled
a
dusty
lake
than
solid
ground
,
were
scattered
a
few
miserable
stalks
of
wheat
,
the
effect
,
no
doubt
,
of
a
curious
desire
on
the
part
of
the
agriculturists
of
the
country
to
see
whether
such
a
thing
as
the
raising
of
grain
in
those
parched
regions
was
practicable
.
Each
stalk
served
as
a
perch
for
a
grasshopper
,
which
regaled
the
passers
by
through
this
Egyptian
scene
with
its
strident
,
monotonous
note
.
For
about
seven
or
eight
years
the
little
tavern
had
been
kept
by
a
man
and
his
wife
,
with
two
servants
--
a
chambermaid
named
Trinette
,
and
a
hostler
called
Pecaud
.
This
small
staff
was
quite
equal
to
all
the
requirements
,
for
a
canal
between
Beaucaire
and
Aiguemortes
had
revolutionized
transportation
by
substituting
boats
for
the
cart
and
the
stagecoach
.
And
,
as
though
to
add
to
the
daily
misery
which
this
prosperous
canal
inflicted
on
the
unfortunate
inn-keeper
,
whose
utter
ruin
it
was
fast
accomplishing
,
it
was
situated
between
the
Rhone
from
which
it
had
its
source
and
the
post-road
it
had
depleted
,
not
a
hundred
steps
from
the
inn
,
of
which
we
have
given
a
brief
but
faithful
description
.
The
inn-keeper
himself
was
a
man
of
from
forty
to
fifty-five
years
of
age
,
tall
,
strong
,
and
bony
,
a
perfect
specimen
of
the
natives
of
those
southern
latitudes
;
he
had
dark
,
sparkling
,
and
deep-set
eyes
,
hooked
nose
,
and
teeth
white
as
those
of
a
carnivorous
animal
;
his
hair
,
like
his
beard
,
which
he
wore
under
his
chin
,
was
thick
and
curly
,
and
in
spite
of
his
age
but
slightly
interspersed
with
a
few
silvery
threads
.
His
naturally
dark
complexion
had
assumed
a
still
further
shade
of
brown
from
the
habit
the
unfortunate
man
had
acquired
of
stationing
himself
from
morning
till
eve
at
the
threshold
of
his
door
,
on
the
lookout
for
guests
who
seldom
came
,
yet
there
he
stood
,
day
after
day
,
exposed
to
the
meridional
rays
of
a
burning
sun
,
with
no
other
protection
for
his
head
than
a
red
handkerchief
twisted
around
it
,
after
the
manner
of
the
Spanish
muleteers
.
This
man
was
our
old
acquaintance
,
Gaspard
Caderousse
.
His
wife
,
on
the
contrary
,
whose
maiden
name
had
been
Madeleine
Radelle
,
was
pale
,
meagre
,
and
sickly-looking
.
Born
in
the
neighborhood
of
Arles
,
she
had
shared
in
the
beauty
for
which
its
women
are
proverbial
;
but
that
beauty
had
gradually
withered
beneath
the
devastating
influence
of
the
slow
fever
so
prevalent
among
dwellers
by
the
ponds
of
Aiguemortes
and
the
marshes
of
Camargue
.
She
remained
nearly
always
in
her
second-floor
chamber
,
shivering
in
her
chair
,
or
stretched
languid
and
feeble
on
her
bed
,
while
her
husband
kept
his
daily
watch
at
the
door
--
a
duty
he
performed
with
so
much
the
greater
willingness
,
as
it
saved
him
the
necessity
of
listening
to
the
endless
plaints
and
murmurs
of
his
helpmate
,
who
never
saw
him
without
breaking
out
into
bitter
invectives
against
fate
;
to
all
of
which
her
husband
would
calmly
return
an
unvarying
reply
,
in
these
philosophic
words
:
--
"
Hush
,
La
Carconte
.
It
is
God
's
pleasure
that
things
should
be
so
.
"
The
sobriquet
of
La
Carconte
had
been
bestowed
on
Madeleine
Radelle
from
the
fact
that
she
had
been
born
in
a
village
,
so
called
,
situated
between
Salon
and
Lambesc
;
and
as
a
custom
existed
among
the
inhabitants
of
that
part
of
France
where
Caderousse
lived
of
styling
every
person
by
some
particular
and
distinctive
appellation
,
her
husband
had
bestowed
on
her
the
name
of
La
Carconte
in
place
of
her
sweet
and
euphonious
name
of
Madeleine
,
which
,
in
all
probability
,
his
rude
gutteral
language
would
not
have
enabled
him
to
pronounce
.
Still
,
let
it
not
be
supposed
that
amid
this
affected
resignation
to
the
will
of
Providence
,
the
unfortunate
inn-keeper
did
not
writhe
under
the
double
misery
of
seeing
the
hateful
canal
carry
off
his
customers
and
his
profits
,
and
the
daily
infliction
of
his
peevish
partner
's
murmurs
and
lamentations
.
Like
other
dwellers
in
the
south
,
he
was
a
man
of
sober
habits
and
moderate
desires
,
but
fond
of
external
show
,
vain
,
and
addicted
to
display
.
During
the
days
of
his
prosperity
,
not
a
festivity
took
place
without
himself
and
wife
being
among
the
spectators
.
He
dressed
in
the
picturesque
costume
worn
upon
grand
occasions
by
the
inhabitants
of
the
south
of
France
,
bearing
equal
resemblance
to
the
style
adopted
both
by
the
Catalans
and
Andalusians
;
while
La
Carconte
displayed
the
charming
fashion
prevalent
among
the
women
of
Arles
,
a
mode
of
attire
borrowed
equally
from
Greece
and
Arabia
.
