(原版)澳大利亞語文第四冊 LESSON 24

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LESSON 24 LITTLE COSETTE

LITTLE COSETTE

II

As they drew near the inn the child said timidly—

“Will you let me take the bucket now?”

“Why?” asked the man.

“Because Madame will whip me if she sees that any one brought it for me.”

The man gave her the bucket, and the door opened.

“Well,” said the innkeeper’s wife, “you have taken your time; you have been playing.”

“Madame,” said Cosette, trembling, “here is a gentleman who was looking for the inn.”

“Is it this gentleman?” said the woman.

“Yes, Madame,” said the traveller, touching his hat. Cosette went silently to work. She dared not dry herself at the fire.

Suddenly Madame spoke: “Oh, I forgot! That bread!”

Cosette plunged her hand into her pocket, and turned white. The money was not there.

“Have you lost it?” said the innkeeper’s wife, reaching out her arm toward a whip hanging on the wall.

The man had been watching Cosette.

“Here, Madame,” said he; “here is the money.”

“Yes, that is it,” said the woman, as her fingers closed over the silver coin which he held out to her. She had seen that it was not a six pence but a shilling which he had given her.

“What is she knitting?” the man asked in a gentle voice.

“Stockings, if you please,” said Madame. “Stockings for my little girls.”

The man looked at Cosette’s poor red feet.

“When will she finish that pair of stockings?”

“It will take her at least three or four good days, the lazy thing!” said Madame.

“And how much might the stockings be worth when they are done?”

Madame looked at him.

“About one shilling and sixpence,” she said.

“Will you take four shillings for them now?” asked the man.

The innkeeper thought it was time to speak.

“Yes,” he said; “you may have the stockings for four shillings. We can refuse nothing to travellers.”

“You must pay for them now,” said Madame sharply.

“I will buy that pair of stockings,” said the man, drawing the money from his pocket. “Now your work belongs to me. Play, my child.”

Cosette trembled.

“Madame, is it true? May I play?”

“Play!” said Madame in a terrible voice.

“Thank you, Madame,” said Cosette. While she said this all her little soul was thanking the traveller.

Madame’s little girls had been playing with their doll. They had left it on the floor near the kitchen table. In the meantime Cosette had dressed up her little lead sword for a doll. She rocked it in her arms and sang it to sleep.

All at once Cosette stopped. She had turned her head and seen the doll upon the floor. She crept out upon her hands and knees, seized the doll, and in a moment more was in her old place again.

Suddenly she heard Madame’s angry voice: “Cosette!”

Cosette shuddered as if at an earthquake. She took the doll and placed it gently on the floor. Then she did what nothing else had made her do—the run in the woods, nor her fear, nor the loss of her money, nor the sight of the whip, nor Madame’s hard words. She began to cry.

The man walked straight to the door, opened it, and went out. Soon the door opened again, and he came in carrying the splendid doll of the toyshop. He went to Cosette and held it out to her, saying—

“Here, this is for you!”

Cosette raised her eyes. She saw the man coming near with the doll as she would have seen the sun coming near. She looked at him, she looked at the doll; and then she went and hid herself under the table as far as she could.

There was a silence in the room. The inn keeper looked at the traveller as he would have looked at a bag of money.

“My little Cosette,” said he in a voice which was meant to be sweet, “take your doll.”

Cosette felt as if some one had said, “Little girl, you are Queen of France.”

“May I, Madame?” she said softly.

“It is yours,” said Madame, “since the gentleman gives it to you.”

“Is it true? is it true?” cried Cosette. “Is the lady for me, sir? I will call her Katharine.”

It was a strange moment when Cosette held the ribbons and fresh pink muslins [1] of the doll against her own rags. She went to bed holding Katharine in her arms.

“MY LITTLE COSETTE, TAKE YOUR DOLL!”

Some time after, when the house was still, the stranger passed through the hall, as if looking for something. By the stairs, among all sorts of old baskets and rubbish, there was a bed, if it could be called a bed. There were neither sheets nor pillows, and the mattress lay on the floor. In this bed Cosette was sleeping.

She was sleeping soundly; she was dressed. She held the doll fast in her arms. Its wide blue eyes shone in the darkness. One of Cosette’s wooden shoes stood beside her bed. In the room beyond, by the fireplace, stood two dainty little shoes ready for the good fairy of Christmas. The man bent over them. In each was a beautiful, shining piece of silver.

The man rose and was about to go away when, at the other end of the fireplace, he saw a clumsy [2] , empty, wooden shoe, half-broken, and covered with mud. It was Cosette’s shoe. Cosette was a child and she had a child’s faith. She too had placed her shoe in the fireplace.

When the stranger went back to his room, there was a piece of yellow gold in the wooden shoe.

“Are you up so soon?” said Madame to the stranger the next morning. “Are you going to leave us already?”

“Yes,” said the man; “I am going away.”

The innkeeper’s wife handed him the bill, but though he looked at the paper his mind was on something else.

“Madame,” said he, “do you have a good business here?”

“Oh, sir,” she began, “the times are very hard, and there are few rich travellers like you. And that little girl eats us out of house and home.”

“What little girl?” said the stranger.

“Why, Cosette, the Lark, as they call her. How stupid people are! She looks more like a bat.”

The man spoke again, and his voice trembled a little—

“Suppose I should take her away. Will you let me have he?”

“Who? Cosette?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, sir, my good sir! take her and keep her, and carry her off! Will you really take her away?”

“I will.”

At this moment the innkeeper himself came into the room. He had heard every word.

“Sir,” said he, “if you take Cosette, I must have sixty pounds in money.”

The stranger took from his pocket an old, black pocket-book, opened it, and drew from it three bank notes.

“Bring Cosette,” he said simply.

While this was going on, what was Cosette doing?

As soon as she was awake she had run to her wooden shoe and found the gold piece in it. She did not know that it was a piece of gold; she had never seen one before. Still she felt a joy in the gift, and that it meant some good for her.

“Cosette,” said Madame almost gently, “come quick.” Cosette followed her.

The stranger took a bundle he had brought, and untied it. It contained a little frock and apron, warm skirts, a scarf, woollen stockings, and shoes.

“My child,” said he, “go and dress yourself.”

An hour later, there passed on the road to Paris a man leading a little girl who had a pink doll. When she was tired the man took her in his arms. Cosette laid her head on his shoulder and went to sleep.

—Translated and adapted from VICTOR HUGO’S Les Misérables

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[1] muslin: Fine, thin, cotton fabric.

[2] clumsy: Ill-shaped.