Les miserables (Abridged) - Victor Hugo [302]
“No,” said Marius.
“Oh! I understand. On account of the affair. Such scares are disagreeable. You have moved. What! why do you wear such an old hat as that? a young man like you ought to have fine clothes. Do you know, Monsieur Marius? Father Mabeuf calls you Baron Marius, I forget what more. It’s not true that you are a baron? barons are old fellows, they go to the Luxembourg Gardens in front of the château where there is the most sun, they read the Quotidienne for a sou. I went once for a letter to a baron’s like that. He was more than a hundred years old. But tell me, where do you live now?”
Marius did not answer.
“Ah!” she continued, “you have a hole in your shirt. I must mend it for you.”
She resumed with an expression which gradually grew darker:
“You don’t seem to be glad to see me?”
Marius said nothing; she herself was silent for a moment, then exclaimed:
“But if I would, I could easily make you glad!”
“How?” inquired Marius. “What does that mean?”
“Ah! you used to speak more kindly to me!” replied she.
“Well, what is it that you mean?”
She bit her lip; she seemed to hesitate, as if passing through a kind of interior struggle. At last, she appeared to decide upon her course.
“So much the worse, it makes no difference. You look sad, I want you to be glad. But promise me that you will laugh, I want to see you laugh and hear you say: Ah, well! that is good. Poor Monsieur Marius! you know, you promised me that you would give me whatever I should ask—”
“Yes! but tell me!”
She looked into Marius’ eyes and said:
“I have the address.”
Marius turned pale. All his blood flowed back to his heart.
“What address?”
“The address you asked me for.”
She added as if she were making an effort:
“The address—you know well enough!”
“Yes!” stammered Marius.
“Of the young lady!”
Having pronounced this word, she sighed deeply.
Marius sprang up from the bank on which he was sitting, and took her wildly by the hand.
“Oh! come! show me the way, tell me! ask me for whatever you will! Where is it?”
“Come with me,” she answered. “I am not sure of the street and the number; it is away on the other side from here, but I know the house very well. I will show you.”
She withdrew her hand and added in a tone which would have pierced the heart of an observer, but which did not even touch the intoxicated and transported Marius:
“Oh! how glad you are!”
A cloud passed over Marius’ brow. He seized Eponine by the arm:
“Swear to me one thing!”
“Swear?” said she, “what does that mean? Ah! you want me to swear?”
And she laughed.
“Your father! promise me, Eponine! swear to me that you will not give this address to your father!”
She turned towards him with an astounded appearance.
“Eponine! How do you know that my name is Eponine?”
“Promise what I ask you!”
But she did not seem to understand.
“That is nice! you called me Eponine!”
Marius caught her by both arms at once. “But answer me now, in heaven’s name! pay attention to what I am saying, swear to me that you will not give the address you know to your father!”
“My father?” said she. “Oh! yes, my father! Do not be concerned on his account. He is in solitary. Besides, do I busy myself about my father!”
“But you don’t promise me!” exclaimed Marius.
“Let me go then!” said she, bursting into a laugh, “how you shake me! Yes! yes! I promise you that! I swear to you that! What is it to me? I won’t give the address to my father. There! will that do? is that it?”
“Nor to anybody?” said Marius.
“Nor to anybody.”
“Now,” added Marius, “show me the way.”
“Right away?”
“Right away.”
“Come. Oh! how glad he is!” said she.
After a few steps, she stopped.
“You follow too near me, Monsieur Marius. Let me go forward, and follow me like that,