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during some few brief months of my youth； months whose memories；
though I should live a hundred years； would remain as fresh at my last
hour as in the first day they came to me。
It was； indeed； the very manuscript described by the librarian of Sir
Thomas Raleigh； it was； indeed； the manuscript of the Clerk Alexander
which I saw； which I touched！ The work of Voragine himself had been
perceptibly abridged； but that made little difference to me。 All the
inestimable additions of the monk of Saint…Germain… des…Pres were there。
That was the main point！ I tried to read the Legend of Saint Droctoveus；
but I could notall the lines of the page quivered before my eyes； and
there was a sound in my ears like the noise of a windmill in the country at
night。 Nevertheless； I was able to see that the manuscript offered every
evidence of indubitable authenticity。 The two drawings of the Purification
of the Virgin and the Coronationof Proserpine were meagre in design and
vulgar in violence of colouring。 Considerably damaged in 1824； as attested
by the catalogue of Sir Thomas； they had obtained during the interval a
new aspect of freshness。 But this miracle did not surprise me at all。 And；
besides； what did I care about the two miniatures？ The legends and the
poem of Alexanderthose alone formed the treasure I desired。 My eyes
devoured as much of it as they had the power to absorb。
I affected indifference while asking Signor Polizzi the price of the
manuscript； and； while awaiting his reply； I offered up a secret prayer that
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the price might not exceed the amount of ready money at my disposal
already much diminished by the cost of my expensive voyage。 Signor
Polizzi； however； informed me that he was not at liberty to dispose of the
article； inasmuch as it did not belong to him； and was to be sold at auction
shortly； at the Hotel des Ventes； with a number of other MSS。 and several
incunabula。
This was a severe blow to me。 It tried to preserve my calmness；
notwithstanding； and replied somewhat to this effect：
〃You surprise me； Monsieur！ Your father； whom I talked with recently
at Girgenti； told me positively that the manuscript was yours。 You cannot
now attempt to make me discredit your father's word。〃
〃I DID own the manuscript； indeed；〃 answered Signor Rafael with
absolute frankness； 〃but I do not own it any longer。 I sold that manuscript…
…the remarkable interest of which you have not failed to perceiveto an
amateur whom I am forbidden to name； and who； for reasons which I am
not at liberty to mention； finds himself obliged to sell his collection。 I am
honoured with the confidence of my customer； and was commissioned by
him to draw up the catalogue and manage the sale； which takes place the
24th of December。 Now； if you will be kind enough to give me your
address； I shall have the pleasure of sending you the catalogue； which is
already in the press。 you fill find the 'Legende Doree' described in it as 'No。
42。'〃
I gave my address； and left the shop。
The polite gravity of the son impressed me quite as disagreeably as the
impudent buffoonery of the father。 I hated； from the bottom of my heart；
the tricks of the vile hagglers！ It was perfectly evident that the two rascals
had a secret understanding； and had only devised this auction…sale； with
the aid of a professional appraiser； to force the bidding on the manuscript I
wanted so much up to an outrageous figure。 I was completely at their
mercy。 There is one evil in all passionate desires； even the noblestnamely；
that they leave us subject to the will of others； and in so far dependent。
This reflection made me suffer cruelly； but it did not conquer my longing
to won the work of Clerk Alexander。 While I was thus meditating； I heard
a coachman swear。 And I discovered it was I whom he was swearing at
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
only when I felt the pole of a carriage poke me in the ribs。 I started aside；
barely in time to save myself from being run over； and whom did I
perceive through the windows of the coupe？ Madame Trepof； being taken
by two beautiful horses； and a coachman all wrapped up in furs like a
Russian Boyard； into the very street I had just left。 She did not notice me；
she was laughing to herself with that artless grace of expression which still
preserved for her； at thirty years； all the charm of her early youth。
〃Well； well！〃 I said to myself； 〃she is laughing！ I suppose she must
have just found another match…box。〃
And I made my way back to the Ponts； feeling very miserable。
Nature； eternally indifferent； neither hastened nor hurried the twenty…
fourth day of December。 I went to the Hotel Bullion； and took my place in
Salle No。 4； immediately below the high desk at which the auctioneer
Boulouze and the expert Polizzi were to sit。 I saw the hall gradually fill
with familiar faces。 I shook hands with several old booksellers of the
quays； but that prudence which any large interest inspires in even the most
self…assured caused me to keep silence in regard to the reason of my
unaccustomed presence in the halls of the Hotel Bullion。 On the other
hand； I questioned those gentlemen at the auction sale； and I had teh
satisfaction of finding them all interested about matters in no wise related
to my affair。
Little by little the hall became thronged with interested or merely
curious spectators； and； after half an hour's delay； the auctioneer with his
ivory hammer； the clerk with his bundle of memorandum…papers； and the
crier； carrying his collection…box fixed to the end of a pole； all took their
places on the platform in the most solemn business manner。 The attendants
ranged themselves at the foot of the desk。 The presiding officer having
declared the sale open； a partial hush followed。
A commonplace series of Preces dia； with miniatures； were first sold
off at mediocre prices。 Needless to say； the illuminations of these books
were in perfect condition！
The lowness of the bids gave courage to the gathering of second…hand
booksellers present； who began to mingle with us； and become more
familiar。 The dealers in old brass and bric…a…brac pressed forward in their
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The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard
tun； waiting for the doors of an adjoining room to be opened； and the
voice of the auctioneer was drowned by the jests of the Auvergnats。
A magnificent codex of the 〃Guerre des Juifs〃 revived attention。 It was
long disputed for。 〃Five thousand francs！ five thousand！〃 called the crier；
while the bric…a…brac dealers remained silent with admiration。 Then seven
or eight antiphonaries brought us back again to low prices。 A fat old
woman； in a loose gown； bareheadeda dealer in second…hand goods
encouraged by the size of the books and the low prices bid