Человек, который смеется / The Man Who Laughs. Уровень 4

”

The interior of the caravan, on the previous night, had been so dark that Ursus had not yet seen the boy’s face. The broad daylight revealed it. He placed the palms of his hands on the two shoulders of the boy, and exclaimed, -

“Do not laugh any more!”

“I am not laughing,” said the child.

Ursus was seized with a shudder from head to foot.

“You do laugh, I tell you.”

Then he asked him: roughly, -

“Who did that to you?”

The child replied, -

“I don’t know what you mean.

”

“How long have you had that laugh?”

“I have always been thus,” said the child.

Ursus turned towards the chest. Then the sun arose. The red rays gleamed through the glass, and struck against the face of the infant, which was turned towards him. Her eyeballs reflected his purple orbit like two mirrors. The eyeballs were immovable, the eyelids also.

“See!” said Ursus. “She is blind.”

LORD CLANCHARLIE AND LORD DAVID DIRRY-MOIR

There was, in those days, an old tradition.

That tradition was Lord Clancharlie. He was one of the peers of England – few in number – who accepted the republic. He had retired into Switzerland, and dwelt in a sort of lofty ruin on the banks of the Lake of Geneva. It was the sketch of a madman. Thinking of Lord Clancharlie, some laughed out aloud, others could not restrain their anger. Lord Clancharlie had never had any brains. Everyone agreed on that point.

Lord Clancharlie. was walking, his hands behind him, along the shores of the Lake of Geneva.

In London they sometimes spoke of the exile. He was accused before the tribunal of public opinion. They pleaded for and against him.

But Lord Clancharlie had not always been old and proscribed. He had had his phase of youth and passion. He had a natural child, a son. This son was born in England in the last days of the republic, just as his father was going into exile. Hence he had never seen his father. This bastard of Lord Clancharlie had grown up at the court of Charles II.

Then he prospered under James II.

The king is dead. Long live the king! It was on the accession of the Duke of York that he obtained permission to call himself Lord David Dirry-Moir, from an estate which his mother had left him.

Lord David was head of the king’s granary. He had the management of the race-horses. He was a brave lord, handsome, generous, and majestic in look and in manner. His person was like his quality.