CHAPTER I--THE SOBRIQUET: MODE OF FORMATION OF FAMILY NAMES

  Marius was, at this epoch, a handsome young man, of medium stature,with thick and intensely black hair, a lofty and intelligent brow,well-opened and passionate nostrils, an air of calmness and sincerity,and with something indescribably proud, thoughtful, and innocent overhis whole countenance. His profile, all of whose lines were rounded,without thereby losing their firmness, had a certain Germanic sweetness,which has made its way into the French physiognomy by way of Alsaceand Lorraine, and that complete absence of angles which renderedthe Sicambres so easily recognizable among the Romans, and whichdistinguishes the leonine from the aquiline race. He was at that periodof life when the mind of men who think is composed, in nearly equalparts, of depth and ingenuousness. A grave situation being given, hehad all that is required to be stupid: one more turn of the key, and hemight be sublime. His manners were reserved, cold, polished, not verygenial. As his mouth was charming, his lips the reddest, and his teeththe whitest in the world, his smile corrected the severity of his face,as a whole. At certain moments, that pure brow and that voluptuous smilepresented a singular contrast. His eyes were small, but his glance waslarge.

  At the period of his most abject misery, he had observed that younggirls turned round when he passed by, and he fled or hid, with death inhis soul. He thought that they were staring at him because of his oldclothes, and that they were laughing at them; the fact is, that theystared at him because of his grace, and that they dreamed of him.

  This mute misunderstanding between him and the pretty passers-by hadmade him shy. He chose none of them for the excellent reason thathe fled from all of them. He lived thus indefinitely,--stupidly, asCourfeyrac said.

  Courfeyrac also said to him: "Do not aspire to be venerable" [theycalled each other _thou_; it is the tendency of youthful friendships toslip into this mode of address]. "Let me give you a piece of advice,my dear fellow. Don't read so many books, and look a little more at thelasses. The jades have some good points about them, O Marius! By dint offleeing and blushing, you will become brutalized."

  On other occasions, Courfeyrac encountered him and said:--"Good morning,Monsieur l'Abbé!"

  When Courfeyrac had addressed to him some remark of this nature, Mariusavoided women, both young and old, more than ever for a week to come,and he avoided Courfeyrac to boot.

  Nevertheless, there existed in all the immensity of creation, two womenwhom Marius did not flee, and to whom he paid no attention whatever. Intruth, he would have been very much amazed if he had been informedthat they were women. One was the bearded old woman who swept out hischamber, and caused Courfeyrac to say: "Seeing that his servant womanwears his beard, Marius does not wear his own beard." The other was asort of little girl whom he saw very often, and whom he never looked at.

  For more than a year, Marius had noticed in one of the walks of theLuxembourg, the one which skirts the parapet of the Pépinière, a manand a very young girl, who were almost always seated side by side on thesame bench, at the most solitary end of the alley, on the Rue de l'Ouestside. Every time that that chance which meddles with the strolls ofpersons whose gaze is turned inwards, led Marius to that walk,--and itwas nearly every day,--he found this couple there. The man appeared tobe about sixty years of age; he seemed sad and serious; his whole personpresented the robust and weary aspect peculiar to military men who haveretired from the service. If he had worn a decoration, Marius would havesaid: "He is an ex-officer." He had a kindly but unapproachable air,and he never let his glance linger on the eyes of any one. He woreblue trousers, a blue frock coat and a broad-brimmed hat, which alwaysappeared to be new, a black cravat, a quaker shirt, that is to say, itwas dazzlingly white, but of coarse linen. A grisette who passed nearhim one day, said: "Here's a very tidy widower." His hair was verywhite.

  The first time that the young girl who accompanied him came and seatedherself on the bench which they seemed to have adopted, she was a sortof child thirteen or fourteen years of age, so thin as to be almosthomely, awkward, insignificant, and with a possible promise ofhandsome eyes. Only, they were always raised with a sort of displeasingassurance. Her dress was both aged and childish, like the dress of thescholars in a convent; it consisted of a badly cut gown of black merino.They had the air of being father and daughter.

  Marius scanned this old man, who was not yet aged, and this littlegirl, who was not yet a person, for a few days, and thereafter paid noattention to them. They, on their side, did not appear even to see him.They conversed together with a peaceful and indifferent air. The girlchattered incessantly and merrily. The old man talked but little, and,at times, he fixed on her eyes overflowing with an ineffable paternity.

  Marius had acquired the mechanical habit of strolling in that walk. Heinvariably found them there.

  This is the way things went:--

  Marius liked to arrive by the end of the alley which was furthest fromtheir bench; he walked the whole length of the alley, passed in frontof them, then returned to the extremity whence he had come, and beganagain. This he did five or six times in the course of his promenade,and the promenade was taken five or six times a week, without itshaving occurred to him or to these people to exchange a greeting. Thatpersonage, and that young girl, although they appeared,--and perhapsbecause they appeared,--to shun all glances, had, naturally, caused someattention on the part of the five or six students who strolled alongthe Pépinière from time to time; the studious after their lectures,the others after their game of billiards. Courfeyrac, who was among thelast, had observed them several times, but, finding the girl homely, hehad speedily and carefully kept out of the way. He had fled, dischargingat them a sobriquet, like a Parthian dart. Impressed solely withthe child's gown and the old man's hair, he had dubbed the daughterMademoiselle Lanoire, and the father, Monsieur Leblanc, so that as noone knew them under any other title, this nickname became a law in thedefault of any other name. The students said: "Ah! Monsieur Leblanc ison his bench." And Marius, like the rest, had found it convenient tocall this unknown gentleman Monsieur Leblanc.

  We shall follow their example, and we shall say M. Leblanc, in order tofacilitate this tale.

  So Marius saw them nearly every day, at the same hour, during the firstyear. He found the man to his taste, but the girl insipid.