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diff --git a/1455-h/1455-h.htm b/1455-h/1455-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6cb2ae5 --- /dev/null +++ b/1455-h/1455-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4265 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Hated Son, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1455 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE HATED SON + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DEDICATION + + To Madame la Baronne James Rothschild. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE HATED SON</b> </a><br /> + </h3> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <b>PART I.</b> </a> + </td> + <td> + HOW THE MOTHER LIVED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </td> + <td> + A BEDROOM OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE BONESETTER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE MOTHER’S LOVE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + + </td> + <td> + + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <b>PART II.</b> </a> + </td> + <td> + HOW THE SON DIED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE HEIR + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </td> + <td> + GABRIELLE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + LOVE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE CRUSHED PEARL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + THE HATED SON + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I. HOW THE MOTHER LIVED + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. A BEDROOM OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY + </h2> + <p> + On a winter’s night, about two in the morning, the Comtesse Jeanne + d’Herouville felt such violent pains that in spite of her inexperience, + she was conscious of an approaching confinement; and the instinct which + makes us hope for ease in a change of posture induced her to sit up in her + bed, either to study the nature of these new sufferings, or to reflect on + her situation. She was a prey to cruel fears,—caused less by the + dread of a first lying-in, which terrifies most women, than by certain + dangers which awaited her child. + </p> + <p> + In order not to awaken her husband who was sleeping beside her, the poor + woman moved with precautions which her intense terror made as minute as + those of a prisoner endeavoring to escape. Though the pains became more + and more severe, she ceased to feel them, so completely did she + concentrate her own strength on the painful effort of resting her two + moist hands on the pillow and so turning her suffering body from a posture + in which she could find no ease. At the slightest rustling of the huge + green silk coverlet, under which she had slept but little since her + marriage, she stopped as though she had rung a bell. Forced to watch the + count, she divided her attention between the folds of the rustling stuff + and a large swarthy face, the moustache of which was brushing her + shoulder. When some noisier breath than usual left her husband’s lips, she + was filled with a sudden terror that revived the color driven from her + cheeks by her double anguish. + </p> + <p> + The prisoner reached the prison door in the dead of night and trying to + noiselessly turn the key in a pitiless lock, was never more timidly bold. + </p> + <p> + When the countess had succeeded in rising to her seat without awakening + her keeper, she made a gesture of childlike joy which revealed the + touching naivete of her nature. But the half-formed smile on her burning + lips was quickly suppressed; a thought came to darken that pure brow, and + her long blue eyes resumed their sad expression. She gave a sigh and again + laid her hands, not without precaution, on the fatal conjugal pillow. Then—as + if for the first time since her marriage she found herself free in thought + and action—she looked at the things around her, stretching out her + neck with little darting motions like those of a bird in its cage. Seeing + her thus, it was easy to divine that she had once been all gaiety and + light-heartedness, but that fate had suddenly mown down her hopes, and + changed her ingenuous gaiety to sadness. + </p> + <p> + The chamber was one of those which, to this day octogenarian porters of + old chateaus point out to visitors as “the state bedroom where Louis XIII. + once slept.” Fine pictures, mostly brown in tone, were framed in walnut, + the delicate carvings of which were blackened by time. The rafters of the + ceiling formed compartments adorned with arabesques in the style of the + preceding century, which preserved the colors of the chestnut wood. These + decorations, severe in tone, reflected the light so little that it was + difficult to see their designs, even when the sun shone full into that + long and wide and lofty chamber. The silver lamp, placed upon the mantel + of the vast fireplace, lighted the room so feebly that its quivering gleam + could be compared only to the nebulous stars which appear at moments + through the dun gray clouds of an autumn night. The fantastic figures + crowded on the marble of the fireplace, which was opposite to the bed, + were so grotesquely hideous that she dared not fix her eyes upon them, + fearing to see them move, or to hear a startling laugh from their gaping + and twisted mouths. + </p> + <p> + At this moment a tempest was growling in the chimney, giving to every puff + of wind a lugubrious meaning,—the vast size of the flute putting the + hearth into such close communication with the skies above that the embers + upon it had a sort of respiration; they sparkled and went out at the will + of the wind. The arms of the family of Herouville, carved in white marble + with their mantle and supporters, gave the appearance of a tomb to this + species of edifice, which formed a pendant to the bed, another erection + raised to the glory of Hymen. Modern architects would have been puzzled to + decide whether the room had been built for the bed or the bed for the + room. Two cupids playing on the walnut headboard, wreathed with garlands, + might have passed for angels; and columns of the same wood, supporting the + tester were carved with mythological allegories, the explanation of which + could have been found either in the Bible or Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Take + away the bed, and the same tester would have served in a church for the + canopy of the pulpit or the seats of the wardens. The married pair mounted + by three steps to this sumptuous couch, which stood upon a platform and + was hung with curtains of green silk covered with brilliant designs called + “ramages”—possibly because the birds of gay plumage there depicted + were supposed to sing. The folds of these immense curtains were so stiff + that in the semi-darkness they might have been taken for some metal + fabric. On the green velvet hanging, adorned with gold fringes, which + covered the foot of this lordly couch the superstition of the Comtes + d’Herouville had affixed a large crucifix, on which their chaplain placed + a fresh branch of sacred box when he renewed at Easter the holy water in + the basin at the foot of the cross. + </p> + <p> + On one side of the fireplace stood a large box or wardrobe of choice woods + magnificently carved, such as brides receive even now in the provinces on + their wedding day. These old chests, now so much in request by + antiquaries, were the arsenals from which women drew the rich and elegant + treasures of their personal adornment,—laces, bodices, high collars + and ruffs, gowns of price, alms-purses, masks, gloves, veils,—in + fact all the inventions of coquetry in the sixteenth century. + </p> + <p> + On the other side, by way of symmetry, was another piece of furniture, + somewhat similar in shape, where the countess kept her books, papers, and + jewels. Antique chairs covered with damask, a large and greenish mirror, + made in Venice, and richly framed in a sort of rolling toilet-table, + completed the furnishings of the room. The floor was covered with a + Persian carpet, the richness of which proved the gallantry of the count; + on the upper step of the bed stood a little table, on which the + waiting-woman served every night in a gold or silver cup a drink prepared + with spices. + </p> + <p> + After we have gone some way in life we know the secret influence exerted + by places on the condition of the soul. Who has not had his darksome + moments, when fresh hope has come into his heart from things that + surrounded him? The fortunate, or the unfortunate man, attributes an + intelligent countenance to the things among which he lives; he listens to + them, he consults them—so naturally superstitious is he. At this + moment the countess turned her eyes upon all these articles of furniture, + as if they were living beings whose help and protection she implored; but + the answer of that sombre luxury seemed to her inexorable. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the tempest redoubled. The poor young woman could augur nothing + favorable as she listened to the threatening heavens, the changes of which + were interpreted in those credulous days according to the ideas or the + habits of individuals. Suddenly she turned her eyes to the two arched + windows at the end of the room; but the smallness of their panes and the + multiplicity of the leaden lines did not allow her to see the sky and + judge if the world were coming to an end, as certain monks, eager for + donations, affirmed. She might easily have believed in such predictions, + for the noise of the angry sea, the waves of which beat against the castle + wall, combined with the mighty voice of the tempest, so that even the + rocks appeared to shake. Though her sufferings were now becoming keener + and less endurable, the countess dared not awaken her husband; but she + turned and examined his features, as if despair were urging her to find a + consolation there against so many sinister forebodings. + </p> + <p> + If matters were sad around the poor young woman, that face, + notwithstanding the tranquillity of sleep, seemed sadder still. The light + from the lamp, flickering in the draught, scarcely reached beyond the foot + of the bed and illumined the count’s head capriciously; so that the fitful + movements of its flash upon those features in repose produced the effect + of a struggle with angry thought. The countess was scarcely reassured by + perceiving the cause of that phenomenon. Each time that a gust of wind + projected the light upon the count’s large face, casting shadows among its + bony outlines, she fancied that her husband was about to fix upon her his + two insupportably stern eyes. + </p> + <p> + Implacable as the war then going on between the Church and Calvinism, the + count’s forehead was threatening even while he slept. Many furrows, + produced by the emotions of a warrior life, gave it a vague resemblance to + the vermiculated stone which we see in the buildings of that period; his + hair, like the whitish lichen of old oaks, gray before its time, + surrounded without grace a cruel brow, where religious intolerance showed + its passionate brutality. The shape of the aquiline nose, which resembled + the beak of a bird of prey, the black and crinkled lids of the yellow + eyes, the prominent bones of a hollow face, the rigidity of the wrinkles, + the disdain expressed in the lower lip, were all expressive of ambition, + despotism, and power, the more to be feared because the narrowness of the + skull betrayed an almost total absence of intelligence, and a mere brute + courage devoid of generosity. The face was horribly disfigured by a large + transversal scar which had the appearance of a second mouth on the right + cheek. + </p> + <p> + At the age of thirty-three the count, anxious to distinguish himself in + that unhappy religious war the signal for which was given on + Saint-Bartholomew’s day, had been grievously wounded at the siege of + Rochelle. The misfortune of this wound increased his hatred against the + partisans of what the language of that day called “the Religion,” but, by + a not unnatural turn of mind, he included in that antipathy all handsome + men. Before the catastrophe, however, he was so repulsively ugly that no + lady had ever been willing to receive him as a suitor. The only passion of + his youth was for a celebrated woman called La Belle Romaine. The distrust + resulting from this new misfortune made him suspicious to the point of not + believing himself capable of inspiring a true passion; and his character + became so savage that when he did have some successes in gallantry he owed + them to the terror inspired by his cruelty. The left hand of this terrible + Catholic, which lay on the outside of the bed, will complete this sketch + of his character. Stretched out as if to guard the countess, as a miser + guards his hoard, that enormous hand was covered with hair so thick, it + presented such a network of veins and projecting muscles, that it gave the + idea of a branch of birch clasped with a growth of yellowing ivy. + </p> + <p> + Children looking at the count’s face would have thought him an ogre, + terrible tales of whom they knew by heart. It was enough to see the width + and length of the space occupied by the count in the bed, to imagine his + gigantic proportions. When awake, his gray eyebrows hid his eyelids in a + way to heighten the light of his eye, which glittered with the luminous + ferocity of a wolf skulking on the watch in a forest. Under his lion nose, + with its flaring nostrils, a large and ill-kept moustache (for he despised + all toilet niceties) completely concealed the upper lip. Happily for the + countess, her husband’s wide mouth was silent at this moment, for the + softest sounds of that harsh voice made her tremble. Though the Comte + d’Herouville was barely fifty years of age, he appeared at first sight to + be sixty, so much had the toils of war, without injuring his robust + constitution, dilapidated him physically. + </p> + <p> + The countess, who was now in her nineteenth year, made a painful contrast + to that large, repulsive figure. She was fair and slim. Her chestnut + locks, threaded with gold, played upon her neck like russet shadows, and + defined a face such as Carlo Dolce has painted for his ivory-toned + madonnas,—a face which now seemed ready to expire under the + increasing attacks of physical pain. You might have thought her the + apparition of an angel sent from heaven to soften the iron will of the + terrible count. + </p> + <p> + “No, he will not kill us!” she cried to herself mentally, after + contemplating her husband for a long time. “He is frank, courageous, + faithful to his word—faithful to his word!” + </p> + <p> + Repeating that last sentence in her thoughts, she trembled violently, and + remained as if stupefied. + </p> + <p> + To understand the horror of her present situation, we must add that this + nocturnal scene took place in 1591, a period when civil war raged + throughout France, and the laws had no vigor. The excesses of the League, + opposed to the accession of Henri IV., surpassed the calamities of the + religious wars. License was so universal that no one was surprised to see + a great lord kill his enemy in open day. When a military expedition, + having a private object, was led in the name of the King or of the League, + one or other of these parties applauded it. It was thus that Blagny, a + soldier, came near becoming a sovereign prince at the gates of France. + Sometime before Henri III.‘s death, a court lady murdered a nobleman who + made offensive remarks about her. One of the king’s minions remarked to + him:— + </p> + <p> + “Hey! vive Dieu! sire, she daggered him finely!” + </p> + <p> + The Comte d’Herouville, one of the most rabid royalists in Normandy, kept + the part of that province which adjoins Brittany under subjection to Henri + IV. by the rigor of his executions. The head of one of the richest + families in France, he had considerably increased the revenues of his + great estates by marrying seven months before the night on which this + history begins, Jeanne de Saint-Savin, a young lady who, by a not uncommon + chance in days when people were killed off like flies, had suddenly become + the representative of both branches of the Saint-Savin family. Necessity + and terror were the causes which led to this union. At a banquet given, + two months after the marriage, to the Comte and Comtesse d’Herouville, a + discussion arose on a topic which in those days of ignorance was thought + amusing: namely, the legitimacy of children coming into the world ten + months after the death of their fathers, or seven months after the wedding + day. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said the count brutally, turning to his wife, “if you give me a + child ten months after my death, I cannot help it; but be careful that you + are not brought to bed in seven months!” + </p> + <p> + “What would you do then, old bear?” asked the young Marquis de Verneuil, + thinking that the count was joking. + </p> + <p> + “I should wring the necks of mother and child!” + </p> + <p> + An answer so peremptory closed the discussion, imprudently started by a + seigneur from Lower Normandy. The guests were silent, looking with a sort + of terror at the pretty Comtesse d’Herouville. All were convinced that if + such an event occurred, her savage lord would execute his threat. + </p> + <p> + The words of the count echoed in the bosom of the young wife, then + pregnant; one of those presentiments which furrow a track like lightning + through the soul, told her that her child would be born at seven months. + An inward heat overflowed her from head to foot, sending the life’s blood + to her heart with such violence that the surface of her body felt bathed + in ice. From that hour not a day had passed that the sense of secret + terror did not check every impulse of her innocent gaiety. The memory of + the look, of the inflections of voice with which the count accompanied his + words, still froze her blood, and silenced her sufferings, as she leaned + over that sleeping head, and strove to see some sign of a pity she had + vainly sought there when awake. + </p> + <p> + The child, threatened with death before its life began, made so vigorous a + movement that she cried aloud, in a voice that seemed like a sigh, “Poor + babe!” + </p> + <p> + She said no more; there are ideas that a mother cannot bear. Incapable of + reasoning at this moment, the countess was almost choked with the + intensity of a suffering as yet unknown to her. Two tears, escaping from + her eyes, rolled slowly down her cheeks, and traced two shining lines, + remaining suspended at the bottom of that white face, like dewdrops on a + lily. What learned man would take upon himself to say that the child + unborn is on some neutral ground, where the emotions of its mother do not + penetrate during those hours when soul clasps body and communicates its + impressions, when thought permeates blood with healing balm or poisonous + fluids? The terror that shakes the tree, will it not hurt the fruit? Those + words, “Poor babe!” were they dictated by a vision of the future? The + shuddering of this mother was violent; her look piercing. + </p> + <p> + The bloody answer given by the count at the banquet was a link + mysteriously connecting the past with this premature confinement. That + odious suspicion, thus publicly expressed, had cast into the memories of + the countess a dread which echoed to the future. Since that fatal gala, + she had driven from her mind, with as much fear as another woman would + have found pleasure in evoking them, a thousand scattered scenes of her + past existence. She refused even to think of the happy days when her heart + was free to love. Like as the melodies of their native land make exiles + weep, so these memories revived sensations so delightful that her young + conscience thought them crimes, and sued them to enforce still further the + savage threat of the count. There lay the secret of the horror which was + now oppressing her soul. + </p> + <p> + Sleeping figures possess a sort of suavity, due to the absolute repose of + both body and mind; but though that species of calmness softened but + slightly the harsh expression of the count’s features, all illusion + granted to the unhappy is so persuasive that the poor wife ended by + finding hope in that tranquillity. The roar of the tempest, now descending + in torrents of rain, seemed to her no more than a melancholy moan; her + fears and her pains both yielded her a momentary respite. Contemplating + the man to whom her life was bound, the countess allowed herself to float + into a reverie, the sweetness of which was so intoxicating that she had no + strength to break its charm. For a moment, by one of those visions which + in some way share the divine power, there passed before her rapid images + of a happiness lost beyond recall. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne in her vision saw faintly, and as if in a distant gleam of dawn, + the modest castle where her careless childhood had glided on; there were + the verdant lawns, the rippling brook, the little chamber, the scenes of + her happy play. She saw herself gathering flowers and planting them, + unknowing why they wilted and would not grow, despite her constancy in + watering them. Next, she saw confusedly the vast town and the vast house + blackened by age, to which her mother took her when she was seven years + old. Her lively memory showed her the old gray heads of the masters who + taught and tormented her. She remembered the person of her father; she saw + him getting off his mule at the door of the manor-house, and taking her by + the hand to lead her up the stairs; she recalled how her prattle drove + from his brow the judicial cares he did not always lay aside with his + black or his red robes, the white fur of which fell one day by chance + under the snipping of her mischievous scissors. She cast but one glance at + the confessor of her aunt, the mother-superior of a convent of Poor + Clares, a rigid and fanatical old man, whose duty it was to initiate her + into the mysteries of religion. Hardened by the severities necessary + against heretics, the old priest never ceased to jangle the chains of + hell; he told her of nothing but the vengeance of Heaven, and made her + tremble with the assurance that God’s eye was on her. Rendered timid, she + dared not raise her eyes in the priest’s presence, and ceased to have any + feeling but respect for her mother, whom up to that time she had made a + sharer in all her frolics. When she saw that beloved mother turning her + blue eyes towards her with an appearance of anger, a religious terror took + possession of the girl’s heart. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly the vision took her to the second period of her childhood, + when as yet she understood nothing of the things of life. She thought with + an almost mocking regret of the days when all her happiness was to work + beside her mother in the tapestried salon, to pray in the church, to sing + her ballads to a lute, to read in secret a romance of chivalry, to pluck + the petals of a flower, discover what gift her father would make her on + the feast of the Blessed Saint-John, and find out the meaning of speeches + repressed before her. Passing thus from her childish joys through the + sixteen years of her girlhood, the grace of those softly flowing years + when she knew no pain was eclipsed by the brightness of a memory precious + though ill-fated. The joyous peace of her childhood was far less sweet to + her than a single one of the troubles scattered upon the last two years of + her childhood,—years that were rich in treasures now buried forever + in her heart. + </p> + <p> + The vision brought her suddenly to that morning, that ravishing morning, + when in the grand old parlor panelled and carved in oak, which served the + family as a dining-room, she saw her handsome cousin for the first time. + Alarmed by the seditions in Paris, her mother’s family had sent the young + courtier to Rouen, hoping that he could there be trained to the duties of + the magistracy by his uncle, whose office might some day devolve upon him. + The countess smiled involuntarily as she remembered the haste with which + she retired on seeing this relation whom she did not know. But, in spite + of the rapidity with which she opened and shut the door, a single glance + had put into her soul so vigorous an impression of the scene that even at + this moment she seemed to see it still occurring. Her eye again wandered + from the violet velvet mantle embroidered with gold and lined with satin + to the spurs on the boots, the pretty lozenges slashed into the doublet, + the trunk-hose, and the rich collaret which gave to view a throat as white + as the lace around it. She stroked with her hand the handsome face with + its tiny pointed moustache, and “royale” as small as the ermine tips upon + her father’s hood. + </p> + <p> + In the silence of the night, with her eyes fixed on the green silk + curtains which she no longer saw, the countess, forgetting the storm, her + husband, and her fears, recalled the days which seemed to her longer than + years, so full were they,—days when she loved, and was beloved!—and + the moment when, fearing her mother’s sternness, she had slipped one + morning into her father’s study to whisper her girlish confidences on his + knee, waiting for his smile at her caresses to say in his ear, “Will you + scold me if I tell you something?” Once more she heard her father say, + after a few questions in reply to which she spoke for the first time of + her love, “Well, well, my child, we will think of it. If he studies well, + if he fits himself to succeed me, if he continues to please you, I will be + on your side.” + </p> + <p> + After that she had listened no longer; she had kissed her father, and, + knocking over his papers as she ran from the room, she flew to the great + linden-tree where, daily, before her formidable mother rose, she met that + charming cousin, Georges de Chaverny. + </p> + <p> + Faithfully the youth promised to study law and customs. He laid aside the + splendid trappings of the nobility of the sword to wear the sterner + costume of the magistracy. + </p> + <p> + “I like you better in black,” she said. + </p> + <p> + It was a falsehood, but by that falsehood she comforted her lover for + having thrown his dagger to the winds. The memory of the little schemes + employed to deceive her mother, whose severity seemed great, brought back + to her the soulful joys of that innocent and mutual and sanctioned love; + sometimes a rendezvous beneath the linden, where speech could be freer + than before witnesses; sometimes a furtive clasp, or a stolen kiss,—in + short, all the naive instalments of a passion that did not pass the bounds + of modesty. Reliving in her vision those delightful days when she seemed + to have too much happiness, she fancied that she kissed, in the void, that + fine young face with the glowing eyes, that rosy mouth that spoke so well + of love. Yes, she had loved Chaverny, poor apparently; but what treasures + had she not discovered in that soul as tender as it was strong! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly her father died. Chaverny did not succeed him. The flames of + civil war burst forth. By Chaverny’s care she and her mother found refuge + in a little town of Lower Normandy. Soon the deaths of other relatives + made her one of the richest heiresses in France. Happiness disappeared as + wealth came to her. The savage and terrible face of Comte d’Herouville, + who asked her hand, rose before her like a thunder-cloud, spreading its + gloom over the smiling meadows so lately gilded by the sun. The poor + countess strove to cast from her memory the scenes of weeping and despair + brought about by her long resistance. + </p> + <p> + At last came an awful night when her mother, pale and dying, threw herself + at her daughter’s feet. Jeanne could save Chaverny’s life by yielding; she + yielded. It was night. The count, arriving bloody from the battlefield was + there; all was ready, the priest, the altar, the torches! Jeanne belonged + henceforth to misery. Scarcely had she time to say to her young cousin who + was set at liberty:— + </p> + <p> + “Georges, if you love me, never see me again!” + </p> + <p> + She heard the departing steps of her lover, whom, in truth, she never saw + again; but in the depths of her heart she still kept sacred his last look + which returned perpetually in her dreams and illumined them. Living like a + cat shut into a lion’s cage, the young wife dreaded at all hours the claws + of the master which ever threatened her. She knew that in order to be + happy she must forget the past and think only of the future; but there + were days, consecrated to the memory of some vanished joy, when she + deliberately made it a crime to put on the gown she had worn on the day + she had seen her lover for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “I am not guilty,” she said, “but if I seem guilty to the count it is as + if I were so. Perhaps I am! The Holy Virgin conceived without—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped. During this moment when her thoughts were misty and her soul + floated in a region of fantasy her naivete made her attribute to that last + look with which her lover transfixed her the occult power of the + visitation of the angel to the Mother of her Lord. This supposition, + worthy of the days of innocence to which her reverie had carried her back, + vanished before the memory of a conjugal scene more odious than death. The + poor countess could have no real doubt as to the legitimacy of the child + that stirred in her womb. The night of her marriage reappeared to her in + all the horror if its agony, bringing in its train other such nights and + sadder days. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my poor Chaverny!” she cried, weeping, “you so respectful, so + gracious, YOU were always kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her eyes to her husband as if to persuade herself that that + harsh face contained a promise of mercy, dearly brought. The count was + awake. His yellow eyes, clear as those of a tiger, glittered beneath their + tufted eyebrows and never had his glance been so incisive. The countess, + terrified at having encountered it, slid back under the great counterpane + and was motionless. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you weeping?” said the count, pulling away the covering which hid + his wife. + </p> + <p> + That voice, always a terror to her, had a specious softness at this moment + which seemed to her of good augury. + </p> + <p> + “I suffer much,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my pretty one, it is no crime to suffer; why did you tremble when I + looked at you? Alas! what must I do to be loved?” The wrinkles of his + forehead between the eyebrows deepened. “I see plainly you are afraid of + me,” he added, sighing. + </p> + <p> + Prompted by the instinct of feeble natures the countess interrupted the + count by moans, exclaiming:— + </p> + <p> + “I fear a miscarriage! I clambered over the rocks last evening and tired + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing those words, the count cast so horribly suspicious a look upon his + wife, that she reddened and shuddered. He mistook the fear of the innocent + creature for remorse. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is the beginning of a regular childbirth,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What then?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “In any case, I must have a proper man here,” he said. “I will fetch one.” + </p> + <p> + The gloomy look which accompanied these words overcame the countess, who + fell back in the bed with a moan, caused more by a sense of her fate than + by the agony of the coming crisis; that moan convinced the count of the + justice of the suspicions that were rising in his mind. Affecting a + calmness which the tones of his voice, his gestures, and looks + contradicted, he rose hastily, wrapped himself in a dressing-gown which + lay on a chair, and began by locking a door near the chimney through which + the state bedroom was entered from the reception rooms which communicated + with the great staircase. + </p> + <p> + Seeing her husband pocket that key, the countess had a presentiment of + danger. She next heard him open the door opposite to that which he had + just locked and enter a room where the counts of Herouville slept when + they did not honor their wives with their noble company. The countess knew + of that room only by hearsay. Jealousy kept her husband always with her. + If occasionally some military expedition forced him to leave her, the + count left more than one Argus, whose incessant spying proved his shameful + distrust. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the attention the countess now gave to the slightest noise, + she heard nothing more. The count had, in fact, entered a long gallery + leading from his room which continued down the western wing of the castle. + Cardinal d’Herouville, his great-uncle, a passionate lover of the works of + printing, had there collected a library as interesting for the number as + for the beauty of its volumes, and prudence had caused him to build into + the walls one of those curious inventions suggested by solitude or by + monastic fears. A silver chain set in motion, by means of invisible wires, + a bell placed at the bed’s head of a faithful servitor. The count now + pulled the chain, and the boots and spurs of the man on duty sounded on + the stone steps of a spiral staircase, placed in the tall tower which + flanked the western corner of the chateau on the ocean side. + </p> + <p> + When the count heard the steps of his retainer he pulled back the rusty + bolts which protected the door leading from the gallery to the tower, + admitting into the sanctuary of learning a man of arms whose stalwart + appearance was in keeping with that of his master. This man, scarcely + awakened, seemed to have walked there by instinct; the horn lantern which + he held in his hand threw so feeble a gleam down the long library that his + master and he appeared in that visible darkness like two phantoms. + </p> + <p> + “Saddle my war-horse instantly, and come with me yourself.” + </p> + <p> + This order was given in a deep tone which roused the man’s intelligence. + He raised his eyes to those of his master and encountered so piercing a + look that the effect was that of an electric shock. + </p> + <p> + “Bertrand,” added the count laying his right hand on the servant’s arm, + “take off your cuirass, and wear the uniform of a captain of guerrillas.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth, monseigneur! What? disguise myself as a Leaguer! + Excuse me, I will obey you; but I would rather be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + The count smiled; then to efface that smile, which contrasted with the + expression of his face, he answered roughly:— + </p> + <p> + “Choose the strongest horse there is in the stable and follow me. We shall + ride like balls shot from an arquebuse. Be ready when I am ready. I will + ring to let you know.” + </p> + <p> + Bertrand bowed in silence and went away; but when he had gone a few steps + he said to himself, as he listened to the howling of the storm:— + </p> + <p> + “All the devils are abroad, jarnidieu! I’d have been surprised to see this + one stay quietly in his bed. We took Saint-Lo in just such a tempest as + this.” + </p> + <p> + The count kept in his room a disguise which often served him in his + campaign stratagems. Putting on the shabby buff-coat that looked as + thought it might belong to one of the poor horse-soldiers whose pittance + was so seldom paid by Henri IV., he returned to the room where his wife + was moaning. + </p> + <p> + “Try to suffer patiently,” he said to her. “I will founder my horse if + necessary to bring you speedy relief.” + </p> + <p> + These words were certainly not alarming, and the countess, emboldened by + them, was about to make a request when the count asked her suddenly:— + </p> + <p> + “Tell me where you keep your masks?” + </p> + <p> + “My masks!” she replied. “Good God! what do you want to do with them?” + </p> + <p> + “Where are they?” he repeated, with his usual violence. + </p> + <p> + “In the chest,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She shuddered when she saw her husband select from among her masks a + “touret de nez,” the wearing of which was as common among the ladies of + that time as the wearing of gloves in our day. The count became entirely + unrecognizable after he had put on an old gray felt hat with a broken + cock’s feather on his head. He girded round his loins a broad leathern + belt, in which he stuck a dagger, which he did not wear habitually. These + miserable garments gave him so terrifying an air and he approached the bed + with so strange a motion that the countess thought her last hour had come. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! don’t kill us!” she cried, “leave me my child, and I will love you + well.” + </p> + <p> + “You must feel yourself very guilty to offer as the ransom of your faults + the love you owe me.” + </p> + <p> + The count’s voice was lugubrious and the bitter words were enforced by a + look which fell like lead upon the countess. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” she cried sorrowfully, “can innocence be fatal?” + </p> + <p> + “Your death is not in question,” said her master, coming out of a sort of + reverie into which he had fallen. “You are to do exactly, and for love of + me, what I shall now tell you.” + </p> + <p> + He flung upon the bed one of the two masks he had taken from the chest, + and smiled with derision as he saw the gesture of involuntary fear which + the slight shock of the black velvet wrung from his wife. + </p> + <p> + “You will give me a puny child!” he cried. “Wear that mask on your face + when I return. I’ll have no barber-surgeon boast that he has seen the + Comtesse d’Herouville.” + </p> + <p> + “A man!—why choose a man for the purpose?” she said in a feeble + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho! my lady, am I not master here?” replied the count. + </p> + <p> + “What matters one horror the more!” murmured the countess; but her master + had disappeared, and the exclamation did her no injury. + </p> + <p> + Presently, in a brief lull of the storm, the countess heard the gallop of + two horses which seemed to fly across the sandy dunes by which the castle + was surrounded. The sound was quickly lost in that of the waves. Soon she + felt herself a prisoner in the vast apartment, alone in the midst of a + night both silent and threatening, and without succor against an evil she + saw approaching her with rapid strides. In vain she sought for some + stratagem by which to save that child conceived in tears, already her + consolation, the spring of all her thoughts, the future of her affections, + her one frail hope. + </p> + <p> + Sustained by maternal courage, she took the horn with which her husband + summoned his men, and, opening a window, blew through the brass tube + feeble notes that died away upon the vast expanse of water, like a bubble + blown into the air by a child. She felt the uselessness of that moan + unheard of men, and turned to hasten through the apartments, hoping that + all the issues were not closed upon her. Reaching the library she sought + in vain for some secret passage; then, passing between the long rows of + books, she reached a window which looked upon the courtyard. Again she + sounded the horn, but without success against the voice of the hurricane. + </p> + <p> + In her helplessness she thought of trusting herself to one of the women,—all + creatures of her husband,—when, passing into her oratory, she found + that the count had locked the only door that led to their apartments. This + was a horrible discovery. Such precautions taken to isolate her showed a + desire to proceed without witnesses to some horrible execution. As moment + after moment she lost hope, the pangs of childbirth grew stronger and + keener. A presentiment of murder, joined to the fatigue of her efforts, + overcame her last remaining strength. She was like a shipwrecked man who + sinks, borne under by one last wave less furious than others he has + vanquished. The bewildering pangs of her condition kept her from knowing + the lapse of time. At the moment when she felt that, alone, without help, + she was about to give birth to her child, and to all her other terrors was + added that of the accidents to which her ignorance exposed her, the count + appeared, without a sound that let her know of his arrival. The man was + there, like a demon claiming at the close of a compact the soul that was + sold to him. He muttered angrily at finding his wife’s face uncovered; + then after masking her carefully, he took her in his arms and laid her on + the bed in her chamber. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE BONESETTER + </h2> + <p> + The terror of that apparition and hasty removal stopped for a moment the + physical sufferings of the countess, and so enabled her to cast a furtive + glance at the actors in this mysterious scene. She did not recognize + Bertrand, who was there disguised and masked as carefully as his master. + After lighting in haste some candles, the light of which mingled with the + first rays of the sun which were reddening the window panes, the old + servitor had gone to the embrasure of a window and stood leaning against a + corner of it. There, with his face towards the wall, he seemed to be + estimating its thickness, keeping his body in such absolute immobility + that he might have been taken for a statue. In the middle of the room the + countess beheld a short, stout man, apparently out of breath and + stupefied, whose eyes were blindfolded and his features so distorted with + terror that it was impossible to guess at their natural expression. + </p> + <p> + “God’s death! you scamp,” said the count, giving him back his eyesight by + a rough movement which threw upon the man’s neck the bandage that had been + upon his eyes. “I warn you not to look at anything but the wretched woman + on whom you are now to exercise your skill; if you do, I’ll fling you into + the river that flows beneath those windows, with a collar round your neck + weighing a hundred pounds!” + </p> + <p> + With that, he pulled down upon the breast of his stupefied hearer the + cravat with which his eyes had been bandaged. + </p> + <p> + “Examine first if this can be a miscarriage,” he continued; “in which case + your life will answer to me for the mother’s; but, if the child is living, + you are to bring it to me.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, the count seized the poor operator by the body and placed him + before the countess, then he went himself to the depths of a bay-window + and began to drum with his fingers upon the panes, casting glances + alternately on his serving-man, on the bed, and at the ocean, as if he + were pledging to the expected child a cradle in the waves. + </p> + <p> + The man whom, with outrageous violence, the count and Bertrand had + snatched from his bed and fastened to the crupper of the latter’s horse, + was a personage whose individuality may serve to characterize the period,—a + man, moreover, whose influence was destined to make itself felt in the + house of Herouville. + </p> + <p> + Never in any age were the nobles so little informed as to natural science, + and never was judicial astrology held in greater honor; for at no period + in history was there a greater general desire to know the future. This + ignorance and this curiosity had led to the utmost confusion in human + knowledge; all things were still mere personal experience; the + nomenclatures of theory did not exist; printing was done at enormous cost; + scientific communication had little or no facility; the Church persecuted + science and all research which was based on the analysis of natural + phenomena. Persecution begat mystery. So, to the people as well as to the + nobles, physician and alchemist, mathematician and astronomer, astrologer + and necromancer were six attributes, all meeting in the single person of + the physician. In those days a superior physician was supposed to be + cultivating magic; while curing his patient he was drawing their + horoscopes. Princes protected the men of genius who were willing to reveal + the future; they lodged them in their palaces and pensioned them. The + famous Cornelius Agrippa, who came to France to become the physician of + Henri II., would not consent, as Nostradamus did, to predict the future, + and for this reason he was dismissed by Catherine de’ Medici, who replaced + him with Cosmo Ruggiero. The men of science, who were superior to their + times, were therefore seldom appreciated; they simply inspired an ignorant + fear of occult sciences and their results. + </p> + <p> + Without being precisely one of the famous mathematicians, the man whom the + count had brought enjoyed in Normandy the equivocal reputation which + attached to a physician who was known to do mysterious works. He belonged + to the class of sorcerers who are still called in parts of France + “bonesetters.” This name belonged to certain untutored geniuses who, + without apparent study, but by means of hereditary knowledge and the + effect of long practice, the observations of which accumulated in the + family, were bonesetters; that is, they mended broken limbs and cured both + men and beasts of certain maladies, possessing secrets said to be + marvellous for the treatment of serious cases. But not only had Maitre + Antoine Beauvouloir (the name of the present bonesetter) a father and + grandfather who were famous practitioners, from whom he inherited + important traditions, he was also learned in medicine, and was given to + the study of natural science. The country people saw his study full of + books and other strange things which gave to his successes a coloring of + magic. Without passing strictly for a sorcerer, Antoine Beauvouloir + impressed the populace through a circumference of a hundred miles with + respect akin to terror, and (what was far more really dangerous for + himself) he held in his power many secrets of life and death which + concerned the noble families of that region. Like his father and + grandfather before him, he was celebrated for his skill in confinements + and miscarriages. In those days of unbridled disorder, crimes were so + frequent and passions so violent that the higher nobility often found + itself compelled to initiate Maitre Antoine Beauvouloir into secrets both + shameful and terrible. His discretion, so essential to his safety, was + absolute; consequently his clients paid him well, and his hereditary + practice greatly increased. Always on the road, sometimes roused in the + dead of night, as on this occasion by the count, sometimes obliged to + spend several days with certain great ladies, he had never married; in + fact, his reputation had hindered certain young women from accepting him. + Incapable of finding consolation in the practice of his profession, which + gave him such power over feminine weakness, the poor bonesetter felt + himself born for the joys of family and yet was unable to obtain them. + </p> + <p> + The good man’s excellent heart was concealed by a misleading appearance of + joviality in keeping with his puffy cheeks and rotund figure, the vivacity + of his fat little body, and the frankness of his speech. He was anxious to + marry that he might have a daughter who should transfer his property to + some poor noble; he did not like his station as bonesetter and wished to + rescue his family name from the position in which the prejudices of the + times had placed it. He himself took willingly enough to the feasts and + jovialities which usually followed his principal operations. The habit of + being on such occasions the most important personage in the company, had + added to his natural gaiety a sufficient dose of serious vanity. His + impertinences were usually well received in crucial moments when it often + pleased him to perform his operations with a certain slow majesty. He was, + in other respects, as inquisitive as a nightingale, as greedy as a hound, + and as garrulous as all diplomatists who talk incessantly and betray no + secrets. In spite of these defects developed in him by the endless + adventures into which his profession led him, Antoine Beauvouloir was held + to be the least bad man in Normandy. Though he belonged to the small + number of minds who are superior to their epoch, the strong good sense of + a Norman countryman warned him to conceal the ideas he acquired and the + truths he from time to time discovered. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he found himself placed by the count in presence of a woman in + childbirth, the bonesetter recovered his presence of mind. He felt the + pulse of the masked lady; not that he gave it a single thought, but under + cover of that medical action he could reflect, and he did reflect on his + own situation. In none of the shameful and criminal intrigues in which + superior force had compelled him to act as a blind instrument, had + precautions been taken with such mystery as in this case. Though his death + had often been threatened as a means of assuring the secrecy of + enterprises in which he had taken part against his will, his life had + never been so endangered as at that moment. He resolved, before all + things, to find out who it was who now employed him, and to discover the + actual extent of his danger, in order to save, if possible, his own little + person. + </p> + <p> + “What is the trouble?” he said to the countess in a low voice, as he + placed her in a manner to receive his help. + </p> + <p> + “Do not give him the child—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak loud!” cried the count in thundering tones which prevented + Beauvouloir from hearing the last word uttered by the countess. “If not,” + added the count who was careful to disguise his voice, “say your ‘In + manus.’” + </p> + <p> + “Complain aloud,” said the leech to the lady; “cry! scream! Jarnidieu! + that man has a necklace that won’t fit you any better than me. Courage, my + little lady!” + </p> + <p> + “Touch her lightly!” cried the count. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is jealous,” said the operator in a shrill voice, fortunately + drowned by the countess’s cries. + </p> + <p> + For Maitre Beauvouloir’s safety Nature was merciful. It was more a + miscarriage than a regular birth, and the child was so puny that it caused + little suffering to the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin!” cried the bonesetter, “it isn’t a miscarriage, after all!” + </p> + <p> + The count made the floor shake as he stamped with rage. The countess + pinched Beauvouloir. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I see!” he said to himself. “It ought to be a premature birth, ought + it?” he whispered to the countess, who replied with an affirmative sign, + as if that gesture were the only language in which to express her + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “It is not all clear to me yet,” thought the bonesetter. + </p> + <p> + Like all men in constant practice, he recognized at once a woman in her + first trouble as he called it. Though the modest inexperience of certain + gestures showed him the virgin ignorance of the countess, the mischievous + operator exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Madame is delivered as if she knew all about it!” + </p> + <p> + The count then said, with a calmness more terrifying than his anger:— + </p> + <p> + “Give me the child.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t give it him, for the love of God!” cried the mother, whose almost + savage cry awoke in the heart of the little man a courageous pity which + attached him, more than he knew himself, to the helpless infant rejected + by his father. + </p> + <p> + “The child is not yet born; you are counting your chicken before it is + hatched,” he said, coldly, hiding the infant. + </p> + <p> + Surprised to hear no cries, he examined the child, thinking it dead. The + count, seeing the deception, sprang upon him with one bound. + </p> + <p> + “God of heaven! will you give it to me?” he cried, snatching the hapless + victim which uttered feeble cries. + </p> + <p> + “Take care; the child is deformed and almost lifeless; it is a seven + months’ child,” said Beauvouloir clinging to the count’s arm. Then, with a + strength given to him by the excitement of his pity, he clung to the + father’s fingers, whispering in a broken voice: “Spare yourself a crime, + the child cannot live.” + </p> + <p> + “Wretch!” replied the count, from whose hands the bonesetter had wrenched + the child, “who told you that I wished to kill my son? Could I not caress + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till he is eighteen years old to caress him in that way,” replied + Beauvouloir, recovering the sense of his importance. “But,” he added, + thinking of his own safety, for he had recognized the Comte d’Herouville, + who in his rage had forgotten to disguise his voice, “have him baptized at + once and do not speak of his danger to the mother, or you will kill her.” + </p> + <p> + The gesture of satisfaction which escaped the count when the child’s death + was prophesied, suggested this speech to the bonesetter as the best means + of saving the child at the moment. Beauvouloir now hastened to carry the + infant back to its mother who had fainted, and he pointed to her condition + reprovingly, to warn the count of the results of his violence. The + countess had heard all; for in many of the great crises of life the human + organs acquire an otherwise unknown delicacy. But the cries of the child, + laid beside her on the bed, restored her to life as if by magic; she + fancied she heard the voices of angels, when, under cover of the + whimperings of the babe, the bonesetter said in her ear:— + </p> + <p> + “Take care of him, and he’ll live a hundred years. Beauvouloir knows what + he is talking about.” + </p> + <p> + A celestial sigh, a silent pressure of the hand were the reward of the + leech, who had looked to see, before yielding the frail little creature to + its mother’s embrace, whether that of the father had done no harm to its + puny organization. The half-crazed motion with which the mother hid her + son beside her and the threatening glance she cast upon the count through + the eye-holes of her mask, made Beauvouloir shudder. + </p> + <p> + “She will die if she loses that child too soon,” he said to the count. + </p> + <p> + During the latter part of this scene the lord of Herouville seemed to hear + and see nothing. Rigid, and as if absorbed in meditation, he stood by the + window drumming on its panes. But he turned at the last words uttered by + the bonesetter, with an almost frenzied motion, and came to him with + uplifted dagger. + </p> + <p> + “Miserable clown!” he cried, giving him the opprobrious name by which the + Royalists insulted the Leaguers. “Impudent scoundrel! your science which + makes you the accomplice of men who steal inheritances is all that + prevents me from depriving Normandy of her sorcerer.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, and to Beauvouloir’s great satisfaction, the count replaced the + dagger in its sheath. + </p> + <p> + “Could you not,” continued the count, “find yourself for once in your life + in the honorable company of a noble and his wife, without suspecting them + of the base crimes and trickery of your own kind? Kill my son! take him + from his mother! Where did you get such crazy ideas? Am I a madman? Why do + you attempt to frighten me about the life of that vigorous child? Fool! I + defy your silly talk—but remember this, since you are here, your + miserable life shall answer for that of the mother and the child.” + </p> + <p> + The bonesetter was puzzled by this sudden change in the count’s + intentions. This show of tenderness for the infant alarmed him far more + than the impatient cruelty and savage indifference hitherto manifested by + the count, whose tone in pronouncing the last words seemed to Beauvouloir + to point to some better scheme for reaching his infernal ends. The shrewd + practitioner turned this idea over in his mind until a light struck him. + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” he said to himself. “This great and good noble does not want + to make himself odious to his wife; he’ll trust to the vials of the + apothecary. I must warn the lady to see to the food and medicine of her + babe.” + </p> + <p> + As he turned toward the bed, the count who had opened a closet, stopped + him with an imperious gesture, holding out a purse. Beauvouloir saw within + its red silk meshes a quantity of gold, which the count now flung to him + contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Though you make me out a villain I am not released from the obligation of + paying you like a lord. I shall not ask you to be discreet. This man + here,” (pointing to Bertrand) “will explain to you that there are rivers + and trees everywhere for miserable wretches who chatter of me.” + </p> + <p> + So saying the count advanced slowly to the bonesetter, pushed a chair + noisily toward him, as if to invite him to sit down, as he did himself by + the bedside; then he said to his wife in a specious voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, my pretty one, so we have a son; this is a joyful thing for us. Do + you suffer much?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” murmured the countess. + </p> + <p> + The evident surprise of the mother, and the tardy demonstrations of + pleasure on the part of the father, convinced Beauvouloir that there was + some incident behind all this which escaped his penetration. He persisted + in his suspicion, and rested his hand on that of the young wife, less to + watch her condition than to convey to her some advice. + </p> + <p> + “The skin is good, I fear nothing for madame. The milk fever will come, of + course; but you need not be alarmed; that is nothing.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the wily bonesetter paused, and pressed the hand of the + countess to make her attentive to his words. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish to avoid all anxiety about your son, madame,” he continued, + “never leave him; suckle him yourself, and beware of the drugs of + apothecaries. The mother’s breast is the remedy for all the ills of + infancy. I have seen many births of seven months’ children, but I never + saw any so little painful as this. But that is not surprising; the child + is so small. You could put him in a wooden shoe! I am certain he doesn’t + weight more than sixteen ounces. Milk, milk, milk. Keep him always on your + breast and you will save him.” + </p> + <p> + These last words were accompanied by a significant pressure of the + fingers. Disregarding the yellow flames flashing from the eyeholes of the + count’s mask, Beauvouloir uttered these words with the serious + imperturbability of a man who intends to earn his money. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho! bonesetter, you are leaving your old felt hat behind you,” said + Bertrand, as the two left the bedroom together. + </p> + <p> + The reasons of the sudden mercy which the count had shown to his son were + to be found in a notary’s office. At the moment when Beauvouloir arrested + his murderous hand avarice and the Legal Custom of Normandy rose up before + him. Those mighty powers stiffened his fingers and silenced the passion of + his hatred. One cried out to him, “The property of your wife cannot belong + to the house of Herouville except through a male child.” The other pointed + to a dying countess and her fortune claimed by the collateral heirs of the + Saint-Savins. Both advised him to leave to nature the extinction of that + hated child, and to wait the birth of a second son who might be healthy + and vigorous before getting rid of his wife and first-born. He saw neither + wife nor child; he saw the estates only, and hatred was softened by + ambition. The mother, who knew his nature, was even more surprised than + the bonesetter, and she still retained her instinctive fears, showing them + at times openly, for the courage of mothers seemed suddenly to have + doubled her strength. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE MOTHER’S LOVE + </h2> + <p> + For several days the count remained assiduously beside his wife, showing + her attentions to which self-interest imparted a sort of tenderness. The + countess saw, however, that she alone was the object of these attentions. + The hatred of the father for his son showed itself in every detail; he + abstained from looking at him or touching him; he would rise abruptly and + leave the room if the child cried; in short, he seemed to endure it living + only through the hope of seeing it die. But even this self-restraint was + galling to the count. The day on which he saw that the mother’s + intelligent eye perceived, without fully comprehending, the danger that + threatened her son, he announced his departure on the morning after the + mass for her churching was solemnized, under pretext of rallying his + forces to the support of the king. + </p> + <p> + Such were the circumstances which preceded and accompanied the birth of + Etienne d’Herouville. If the count had no other reason for wishing the + death of this disowned son poor Etienne would still have been the object + of his aversion. In his eyes the misfortune of a rickety, sickly + constitution was a flagrant offence to his self-love as a father. If he + execrated handsome men, he also detested weakly ones, in whom mental + capacity took the place of physical strength. To please him a man should + be ugly in face, tall, robust, and ignorant. Etienne, whose debility would + bow him, as it were, to the sedentary occupations of knowledge, was + certain to find in his father a natural enemy. His struggle with that + colossus began therefore from his cradle, and his sole support against + that cruel antagonist was the heart of his mother whose love increased, by + a tender law of nature, as perils threatened him. + </p> + <p> + Buried in solitude after the abrupt departure of the count, Jeanne de + Saint-Savin owed to her child the only semblance of happiness that + consoled her life. She loved him as women love the child of an illicit + love; obliged to suckle him, the duty never wearied her. She would not let + her women care for the child. She dressed and undressed him, finding fresh + pleasures in every little care that he required. Happiness glowed upon her + face as she obeyed the needs of the little being. As Etienne had come into + the world prematurely, no clothes were ready for him, and those that were + needed she made herself,—with what perfection, you know, ye mothers, + who have worked in silence for a treasured child. The days had never hours + long enough for these manifold occupations and the minute precautions of + the nursing mother; those days fled by, laden with her secret content. + </p> + <p> + The counsel of the bonesetter still continued in the countess’s mind. She + feared for her child, and would gladly not have slept in order to be sure + that no one approached him during her sleep; and she kept his cradle + beside her bed. In the absence of the count she ventured to send for the + bonesetter, whose name she had caught and remembered. To her, Beauvouloir + was a being to whom she owed an untold debt of gratitude; and she desired + of all things to question him on certain points relating to her son. If an + attempt were made to poison him, how should she foil it? In what way ought + she to manage his frail constitution? Was it well to nurse him long? If + she died, would Beauvouloir undertake the care of the poor child’s health? + </p> + <p> + To the questions of the countess, Beauvouloir, deeply touched, replied + that he feared, as much as she did, an attempt to poison Etienne; but + there was, he assured her, no danger as long as she nursed the child; and + in future, when obliged to feed him, she must taste the food herself. + </p> + <p> + “If Madame la comtesse,” he said, “feels anything strange upon her tongue, + a prickly, bitter, strong salt taste, reject the food. Let the child’s + clothes be washed under her own eye and let her keep the key of the chest + which contains them. Should anything happen to the child send instantly to + me.” + </p> + <p> + These instructions sank deep into Jeanne’s heart. She begged Beauvouloir + to regard her always as one who would do him any service in her power. On + that the poor man told her that she held his happiness in her hands. + </p> + <p> + Then he related briefly how the Comte d’Herouville had in his youth loved + a courtesan, known by the name of La Belle Romaine, who had formerly + belonged to the Cardinal of Lorraine. Abandoned by the count before very + long, she had died miserably, leaving a child named Gertrude, who had been + rescued by the Sisters of the Convent of Poor Clares, the Mother Superior + of which was Mademoiselle de Saint-Savin, the countess’s aunt. Having been + called to treat Gertrude for an illness, he, Beauvouloir, had fallen in + love with her, and if Madame la comtesse, he said, would undertake the + affair, she should not only more than repay him for what she thought he + had done for her, but she would make him grateful to her for life. The + count might, sooner or later, be brought to take an interest in so + beautiful a daughter, and might protect her indirectly by making him his + physician. + </p> + <p> + The countess, compassionate to all true love, promised to do her best, and + pursued the affair so warmly that at the birth of her second son she did + obtain from her husband a “dot” for the young girl, who was married soon + after to Beauvouloir. The “dot” and his savings enabled the bonesetter to + buy a charming estate called Forcalier near the castle of Herouville, and + to give his life the dignity of a student and man of learning. + </p> + <p> + Comforted by the kind physician, the countess felt that to her were given + joys unknown to other mothers. Mother and child, two feeble beings, seemed + united in one thought, they understood each other long before language + could interpret between them. From the moment when Etienne first turned + his eyes on things about him with the stupid eagerness of a little child, + his glance had rested on the sombre hangings of the castle walls. When his + young ear strove to listen and to distinguish sounds, he heard the + monotonous ebb and flow of the sea upon the rocks, as regular as the + swinging of a pendulum. Thus places, sounds, and things, all that strikes + the senses and forms the character, inclined him to melancholy. His + mother, too, was doomed to live and die in the clouds of melancholy; and + to him, from his birth up, she was the only being that existed on the + earth, and filled for him the desert. Like all frail children, Etienne’s + attitude was passive, and in that he resembled his mother. The delicacy of + his organs was such that a sudden noise, or the presence of a boisterous + person gave him a sort of fever. He was like those little insects for whom + God seems to temper the violence of the wind and the heat of the sun; + incapable, like them, of struggling against the slightest obstacle, he + yielded, as they do, without resistance or complaint, to everything that + seemed to him aggressive. This angelic patience inspired in the mother a + sentiment which took away all fatigue from the incessant care required by + so frail a being. + </p> + <p> + Soon his precocious perception of suffering revealed to him the power that + he had upon his mother; often he tried to divert her with caresses and + make her smile at his play; and never did his coaxing hands, his stammered + words, his intelligent laugh fail to rouse her from her reverie. If he was + tired, his care for her kept him from complaining. + </p> + <p> + “Poor, dear, little sensitive!” cried the countess as he fell asleep tired + with some play which had driven the sad memories from her mind, “how can + you live in this world? who will understand you? who will love you? who + will see the treasures hidden in that frail body? No one! Like me, you are + alone on earth.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed and wept. The graceful pose of her child lying on her knees + made her smile sadly. She looked at him long, tasting one of those + pleasures which are a secret between mothers and God. Etienne’s weakness + was so great that until he was a year and a half old she had never dared + to take him out of doors; but now the faint color which tinted the + whiteness of his skin like the petals of a wild rose, showed that life and + health were already there. + </p> + <p> + One morning the countess, giving herself up to the glad joy of all mothers + when their first child walks for the first time, was playing with Etienne + on the floor when suddenly she heard the heavy step of a man upon the + boards. Hardly had she risen with a movement of involuntary surprise, when + the count stood before her. She gave a cry, but endeavored instantly to + undo that involuntary wrong by going up to him and offering her forehead + for a kiss. + </p> + <p> + “Why not have sent me notice of your return?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “My reception would have been more cordial, but less frank,” he answered + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he saw the child. The evident health in which he found it wrung + from him a gesture of surprise mingled with fury. But he repressed his + anger, and began to smile. + </p> + <p> + “I bring good news,” he said. “I have received the governorship of + Champagne and the king’s promise to be made duke and peer. Moreover, we + have inherited a princely fortune from your cousin; that cursed Huguenot, + Georges de Chaverny is killed.” + </p> + <p> + The countess turned pale and dropped into a chair. She saw the secret of + the devilish smile on her husband’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said in a voice of emotion, “you know well that I loved my + cousin Chaverny. You will answer to God for the pain you inflict upon me.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the eye of the count glittered; his lips trembled, but he + could not utter a word, so furious was he; he flung his dagger on the + table with such violence that the metal resounded like a thunder-clap. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he said in his strongest voice, “and remember my words. I + will never see or hear the little monster you hold in your arms. He is + your child, and not mine; there is nothing of me in him. Hide him, I say, + hide him from my sight, or—” + </p> + <p> + “Just God!” cried the countess, “protect us!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” said her husband. “If you do not wish me to throttle him, see + that I never find him in my way.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said the countess gathering strength to oppose her tyrant, “swear + to me that if you never meet him you will do nothing to injure him. Can I + trust your word as a nobleman for that?” + </p> + <p> + “What does all this mean?” said the count. + </p> + <p> + “If you will not swear, kill us now together!” cried the countess, falling + on her knees and pressing her child to her breast. + </p> + <p> + “Rise, madame. I give you my word as a man of honor to do nothing against + the life of that cursed child, provided he lives among the rocks between + the sea and the house, and never crosses my path. I will give him that + fisherman’s house down there for his dwelling, and the beach for a domain. + But woe betide him if I ever find him beyond those limits.” + </p> + <p> + The countess began to weep. + </p> + <p> + “Look at him!” she said. “He is your son.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” + </p> + <p> + At that word, the frightened mother carried away the child whose heart was + beating like that of a bird caught in its nest. Whether innocence has a + power which the hardest men cannot escape, or whether the count regretted + his violence and feared to plunge into despair a creature so necessary to + his pleasures and also to his worldly prosperity, it is certain that his + voice was as soft as it was possible to make it when his wife returned. + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne, my dear,” he said, “do not be angry with me; give me your hand. + One never knows how to trust you women. I return, bringing you fresh + honors and more wealth, and yet, tete-Dieu! you receive me like an enemy. + My new government will oblige me to make long absences until I can + exchange it for that of Lower Normandy; and I request, my dear, that you + will show me a pleasant face while I am here.” + </p> + <p> + The countess understood the meaning of the words, the feigned softness of + which could no longer deceive her. + </p> + <p> + “I know my duty,” she replied in a tone of sadness which the count mistook + for tenderness. + </p> + <p> + The timid creature had too much purity and dignity to try, as some clever + women would have done, to govern the count by putting calculation into her + conduct,—a sort of prostitution by which noble souls feel degraded. + Silently she turned away, to console her despair with Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “Tete-Dieu! shall I never be loved?” cried the count, seeing the tears in + his wife’s eyes as she left the room. + </p> + <p> + Thus incessantly threatened, motherhood became to the poor woman a passion + which assumed the intensity that women put into their guilty affections. + By a species of occult communion, the secret of which is in the hearts of + mothers, the child comprehended the peril that threatened him and dreaded + the approach of his father. The terrible scene of which he had been a + witness remained in his memory, and affected him like an illness; at the + sound of the count’s step his features contracted, and the mother’s ear + was not so alert as the instinct of her child. As he grew older this + faculty created by terror increased, until, like the savages of America, + Etienne could distinguish his father’s step and hear his voice at immense + distances. To witness the terror with which the count inspired her thus + shared by her child made Etienne the more precious to the countess; their + union was so strengthened that like two flowers on one twig they bent to + the same wind, and lifted their heads with the same hope. In short, they + were one life. + </p> + <p> + When the count again left home Jeanne was pregnant. This time she gave + birth in due season, and not without great suffering, to a stout boy, who + soon became the living image of his father, so that the hatred of the + count for his first-born was increased by this event. To save her + cherished child the countess agreed to all the plans which her husband + formed for the happiness and wealth of his second son, whom he named + Maximilien. Etienne was to be made a priest, in order to leave the + property and titles of the house of Herouville to his younger brother. At + that cost the poor mother believed she ensured the safety of her hated + child. + </p> + <p> + No two brothers were ever more unlike than Etienne and Maximilien. The + younger’s taste was all for noise, violent exercises, and war, and the + count felt for him the same excessive love that his wife felt for Etienne. + By a tacit compact each parent took charge of the child of their heart. + The duke (for about this time Henri IV. rewarded the services of the + Seigneur d’Herouville with a dukedom), not wishing, he said, to fatigue + his wife, gave the nursing of the youngest boy to a stout peasant-woman + chosen by Beauvouloir, and announced his determination to bring up the + child in his own manner. He gave him, as time went on, a holy horror of + books and study; taught him the mechanical knowledge required by a + military career, made him a good rider, a good shot with an arquebuse, and + skilful with his dagger. When the boy was big enough he took him to hunt, + and let him acquire the savage language, the rough manners, the bodily + strength, and the vivacity of look and speech which to his mind were the + attributes of an accomplished man. The boy became, by the time he was + twelve years old, a lion-cub ill-trained, as formidable in his way as the + father himself, having free rein to tyrannize over every one, and using + the privilege. + </p> + <p> + Etienne lived in the little house, or lodge, near the sea, given to him by + his father, and fitted up by the duchess with some of the comforts and + enjoyments to which he had a right. She herself spent the greater part of + her time there. Together the mother and child roamed over the rocks and + the shore, keeping strictly within the limits of the boy’s domain of beach + and shells, of moss and pebbles. The boy’s terror of his father was so + great that, like the Lapp, who lives and dies in his snow, he made a + native land of his rocks and his cottage, and was terrified and uneasy if + he passed his frontier. + </p> + <p> + The duchess, knowing her child was not fitted to find happiness except in + some humble and retired sphere, did not regret the fate that was thus + imposed upon him; she used this enforced vocation to prepare him for a + noble life of study and science, and she brought to the chateau Pierre de + Sebonde as tutor to the future priest. Nevertheless, in spite of the + tonsure imposed by the will of the father, she was determined that + Etienne’s education should not be wholly ecclesiastical, and took pains to + secularize it. She employed Beauvouloir to teach him the mysteries of + natural science; she herself superintended his studies, regulating them + according to her child’s strength, and enlivening them by teaching him + Italian, and revealing to him little by little the poetic beauties of that + language. While the duke rode off with Maximilien to the forest and the + wild-boars at the risk of his life, Jeanne wandered with Etienne in the + milky way of Petrarch’s sonnets, or the mighty labyrinth of the Divina + Comedia. Nature had endowed the youth, in compensation for his + infirmities, with so melodious a voice that to hear him sing was a + constant delight; his mother taught him music, and their tender, + melancholy songs, accompanied by a mandolin, were the favorite recreation + promised as a reward for some more arduous study required by the Abbe de + Sebonde. Etienne listened to his mother with a passionate admiration she + had never seen except in the eyes of Georges de Chaverny. The first time + the poor woman found a memory of her girlhood in the long, slow look of + her child, she covered him with kisses; and she blushed when Etienne asked + her why she seemed to love him better at that moment than ever before. She + answered that every hour made him dearer to her. She found in the training + of his soul, and in the culture of his mind, pleasures akin to those she + had tasted in feeding him with her milk. She put all her pride and + self-love into making him superior to herself, and not in ruling him. + Hearts without tenderness covet dominion, but a true love treasures + abnegation, that virtue of strength. When Etienne could not at first + comprehend a demonstration, a theme, a theory, the poor mother, who was + present at the lessons, seemed to long to infuse knowledge, as formerly + she had given nourishment at the child’s least cry. And then, what joy + suffused her eyes when Etienne’s mind seized the true sense of things and + appropriated it. She proved, as Pierre de Sebonde said, that a mother is a + dual being whose sensations cover two existences. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if some woman as loving as I could infuse into him hereafter the life + of love, how happy he might be!” she often thought. + </p> + <p> + But the fatal interests which consigned Etienne to the priesthood returned + to her mind, and she kissed the hair that the scissors of the Church were + to shear, leaving her tears upon them. Still, in spite of the unjust + compact she had made with the duke, she could not see Etienne in her + visions of the future as priest or cardinal; and the absolute + forgetfulness of the father as to his first-born, enabled her to postpone + the moment of putting him into Holy Orders. + </p> + <p> + “There is time enough,” she said to herself. + </p> + <p> + The day came when all her cares, inspired by a sentiment which seemed to + enter into the flesh of her son and give it life, had their reward. + Beauvouloir—that blessed man whose teachings had proved so precious + to the child, and whose anxious glance at that frail idol had so often + made the duchess tremble—declared that Etienne was now in a + condition to live long years, provided no violent emotion came to convulse + his delicate body. Etienne was then sixteen. + </p> + <p> + At that age he was just five feet, a height he never passed. His skin, as + transparent and satiny as that of a little girl, showed a delicate tracery + of blue veins; its whiteness was that of porcelain. His eyes, which were + light blue and ineffably gentle, implored the protection of men and women; + that beseeching look fascinated before the melody of his voice was heard + to complete the charm. True modesty was in every feature. Long chestnut + hair, smooth and very fine, was parted in the middle of his head into two + bandeaus which curled at their extremity. His pale and hollow cheeks, his + pure brow, lined with a few furrows, expressed a condition of suffering + which was painful to witness. His mouth, always gracious, and adorned with + very white teeth, wore the sort of fixed smile which we often see on the + lips of the dying. His hands, white as those of a woman, were remarkably + handsome. The habit of meditation had taught him to droop his head like a + fragile flower, and the attitude was in keeping with his person; it was + like the last grace that a great artist touches into a portrait to bring + out its latent thought. Etienne’s head was that of a delicate girl placed + upon the weakly and deformed body of a man. + </p> + <p> + Poesy, the rich meditations of which make us roam like botanists through + the vast fields of thought, the fruitful comparison of human ideas, the + enthusiasm given by a clear conception of works of genius, came to be the + inexhaustible and tranquil joys of the young man’s solitary and dreamy + life. Flowers, ravishing creatures whose destiny resembled his own, were + his loves. Happy to see in her son the innocent passions which took the + place of the rough contact with social life which he never could have + borne, the duchess encouraged Etienne’s tastes; she brought him Spanish + “romanceros,” Italian “motets,” books, sonnets, poems. The library of + Cardinal d’Herouville came into Etienne’s possession, the use of which + filled his life. These readings, which his fragile health forbade him to + continue for many hours at a time, and his rambles among the rocks of his + domain, were interspersed with naive meditations which kept him motionless + for hours together before his smiling flowers—those sweet + companions!—or crouching in a niche of the rocks before some species + of algae, a moss, a seaweed, studying their mysteries; seeking perhaps a + rhythm in their fragrant depths, like a bee its honey. He often admired, + without purpose, and without explaining his pleasure to himself, the + slender lines on the petals of dark flowers, the delicacy of their rich + tunics of gold or purple, green or azure, the fringes, so profusely + beautiful, of their calyxes or leaves, their ivory or velvet textures. + Later, a thinker as well as a poet, he would detect the reason of these + innumerable differences in a single nature, by discovering the indication + of unknown faculties; for from day to day he made progress in the + interpretation of the Divine Word writing upon all things here below. + </p> + <p> + These constant and secret researches into matters occult gave to Etienne’s + life the apparent somnolence of meditative genius. He would spend long + days lying upon the shore, happy, a poet, all-unconscious of the fact. The + sudden irruption of a gilded insect, the shimmering of the sun upon the + ocean, the tremulous motion of the vast and limpid mirror of the waters, a + shell, a crab, all was event and pleasure to that ingenuous young soul. + And then to see his mother coming towards him, to hear from afar the + rustle of her gown, to await her, to kiss her, to talk to her, to listen + to her gave him such keen emotions that often a slight delay, a trifling + fear would throw him into a violent fever. In him there was nought but + soul, and in order that the weak, debilitated body should not be destroyed + by the keen emotions of that soul, Etienne needed silence, caresses, peace + in the landscape, and the love of a woman. For the time being, his mother + gave him the love and the caresses; flowers and books entranced his + solitude; his little kingdom of sand and shells, algae and verdure seemed + to him a universe, ever fresh and new. + </p> + <p> + Etienne imbibed all the benefits of this physical and absolutely innocent + life, this mental and moral life so poetically extended. A child by form, + a man in mind, he was equally angelic under either aspect. By his mother’s + influence his studies had removed his emotions to the region of ideas. The + action of his life took place, therefore, in the moral world, far from the + social world which would either have killed him or made him suffer. He + lived by his soul and by his intellect. Laying hold of human thought by + reading, he rose to thoughts that stirred in matter; he felt the thoughts + of the air, he read the thoughts on the skies. Early he mounted that + ethereal summit where alone he found the delicate nourishment that his + soul needed; intoxicating food! which predestined him to sorrow whenever + to these accumulated treasures should be added the riches of a passion + rising suddenly in his heart. + </p> + <p> + If, at times, Jeanne de Saint-Savin dreaded that coming storm, he consoled + herself with a thought which the otherwise sad vocation of her son put + into her mind,—for the poor mother found no remedy for his sorrows + except some lesser sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “He will be a cardinal,” she thought; “he will live in the sentiment of + Art, of which he will make himself the protector. He will love Art instead + of loving a woman, and Art will not betray him.” + </p> + <p> + The pleasures of this tender motherhood were incessantly held in check by + sad reflections, born of the strange position in which Etienne was placed. + The brothers had passed the adolescent age without knowing each other, + without so much as even suspecting their rival existence. The duchess had + long hoped for an opportunity, during the absence of her husband, to bind + the two brothers to each other in some solemn scene by which she might + enfold them both in her love. This hope, long cherished, had now faded. + Far from wishing to bring about an intercourse between the brothers, she + feared an encounter between them, even more than between the father and + son. Maximilien, who believed in evil only, might have feared that Etienne + would some day claim his rights, and, so fearing, might have flung him + into the sea with a stone around his neck. No son had ever less respect + for a mother than he. As soon as he could reason he had seen the low + esteem in which the duke held his wife. If the old man still retained some + forms of decency in his manners to the duchess, Maximilien, unrestrained + by his father, caused his mother many a grief. + </p> + <p> + Consequently, Bertrand was incessantly on the watch to prevent Maximilien + from seeing Etienne, whose existence was carefully concealed. All the + attendants of the castle cordially hated the Marquis de Saint-Sever (the + name and title borne by the younger brother), and those who knew of the + existence of the elder looked upon him as an avenger whom God was holding + in reserve. + </p> + <p> + Etienne’s future was therefore doubtful; he might even be persecuted by + his own brother! The poor duchess had no relations to whom she could + confide the life and interests of her cherished child. Would he not blame + her when in his violet robes he longed to be a father as she had been a + mother? These thoughts, and her melancholy life so full of secret sorrows + were like a mortal illness kept at bay for a time by remedies. Her heart + needed the wisest management, and those about her were cruelly inexpert in + gentleness. What mother’s heart would not have been torn at the sight of + her eldest son, a man of mind and soul in whom a noble genius made itself + felt, deprived of his rights, while the younger, hard and brutal, without + talent, even military talent, was chosen to wear the ducal coronet and + perpetuate the family? The house of Herouville was discarding its own + glory. Incapable of anger the gentle Jeanne de Saint-Savin could only + bless and weep, but often she raised her eyes to heaven, asking it to + account for this singular doom. Those eyes filled with tears when she + thought that at her death her cherished child would be wholly orphaned and + left exposed to the brutalities of a brother without faith or conscience. + </p> + <p> + Such emotions repressed, a first love unforgotten, so many sorrows ignored + and hidden within her,—for she kept her keenest sufferings from her + cherished child,—her joys embittered, her griefs unrelieved, all + these shocks had weakened the springs of life and were developing in her + system a slow consumption which day by day was gathering greater force. A + last blow hastened it. She tried to warn the duke as to the results of + Maximilien’s education, and was repulsed; she saw that she could give no + remedy to the shocking seeds which were germinating in the soul of her + second child. From this moment began a period of decline which soon became + so visible as to bring about the appointment of Beauvouloir to the post of + physician to the house of Herouville and the government of Normandy. + </p> + <p> + The former bonesetter came to live at the castle. In those days such posts + belonged to learned men, who thus gained a living and the leisure + necessary for a studious life and the accomplishment of scientific work. + Beauvouloir had for some time desired the situation, because his knowledge + and his fortune had won him numerous bitter enemies. In spite of the + protection of a great family to whom he had done great services, he had + recently been implicated in a criminal case, and the intervention of the + Governor of Normandy, obtained by the duchess, had alone saved him from + being brought to trial. The duke had no reason to repent this protection + given to the old bonesetter. Beauvouloir saved the life of the Marquis de + Saint-Sever in so dangerous an illness that any other physician would have + failed in doing so. But the wounds of the duchess were too deep-seated and + dated too far back to be cured, especially as they were constantly kept + open in her home. When her sufferings warned this angel of many sorrows + that her end was approaching, death was hastened by the gloomy + apprehensions that filled her mind as to the future. + </p> + <p> + “What will become of my poor child without me?” was a thought renewed + every hour like a bitter tide. + </p> + <p> + Obliged at last to keep her bed, the duchess failed rapidly, for she was + then unable to see her son, forbidden as he was by her compact with his + father to approach the house. The sorrow of the youth was equal to that of + the mother. Inspired by the genius of repressed feeling, Etienne created a + mystical language by which to communicate with his mother. He studied the + resources of his voice like an opera-singer, and often he came beneath her + windows to let her hear his melodiously melancholy voice, when Beauvouloir + by a sign informed him she was alone. Formerly, as a babe, he had consoled + his mother with his smiles, now, become a poet, he caressed her with his + melodies. + </p> + <p> + “Those songs give me life,” said the duchess to Beauvouloir, inhaling the + air that Etienne’s voice made living. + </p> + <p> + At length the day came when the poor son’s mourning began. Already he had + felt the mysterious correspondences between his emotions and the movements + of the ocean. The divining of the thoughts of matter, a power with which + his occult knowledge had invested him, made this phenomenon more eloquent + to him than to all others. During the fatal night when he was taken to see + his mother for the last time, the ocean was agitated by movements that to + him were full of meaning. The heaving waters seemed to show that the sea + was working intestinally; the swelling waves rolled in and spent + themselves with lugubrious noises like the howling of a dog in distress. + Unconsciously, Etienne found himself saying:— + </p> + <p> + “What does it want of me? It quivers and moans like a living creature. My + mother has often told me that the ocean was in horrible convulsions on the + night when I was born. Something is about to happen to me.” + </p> + <p> + This thought kept him standing before his window with his eyes sometimes + on his mother’s windows where a faint light trembled, sometimes on the + ocean which continued to moan. Suddenly Beauvouloir knocked on the door of + his room, opened it, and showed on his saddened face the reflection of + some new misfortune. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he said, “Madame la duchesse is in so sad a state that she + wishes to see you. All precautions are taken that no harm shall happen to + you in the castle; but we must be prudent; to see her you will have to + pass through the room of Monseigneur the duke, the room where you were + born.” + </p> + <p> + These words brought the tears to Etienne’s eyes, and he said:— + </p> + <p> + “The Ocean <i>did</i> speak to me!” + </p> + <p> + Mechanically he allowed himself to be led towards the door of the tower + which gave entrance to the private way leading to the duchess’s room. + Bertrand was awaiting him, lantern in hand. Etienne reached the library of + the Cardinal d’Herouville, and there he was made to wait with Beauvouloir + while Bertrand went on to unlock the other doors, and make sure that the + hated son could pass through his father’s house without danger. The duke + did not awake. Advancing with light steps, Etienne and Beauvouloir heard + in that immense chateau no sound but the plaintive groans of the dying + woman. Thus the very circumstances attending the birth of Etienne were + renewed at the death of his mother. The same tempest, same agony, same + dread of awaking the pitiless giant, who, on this occasion at least, slept + soundly. Bertrand, as a further precaution, took Etienne in his arms and + carried him through the duke’s room, intending to give some excuse as to + the state of the duchess if the duke awoke and detected him. Etienne’s + heart was horribly wrung by the same fears which filled the minds of these + faithful servants; but this emotion prepared him, in a measure, for the + sight that met his eyes in that signorial room, which he had never + re-entered since the fatal day when, as a child, the paternal curse had + driven him from it. + </p> + <p> + On the great bed, where happiness never came, he looked for his beloved, + and scarcely found her, so emaciated was she. White as her own laces, with + scarcely a breath left, she gathered up all her strength to clasp + Etienne’s hand, and to give him her whole soul, as heretofore, in a look. + Chaverny had bequeathed to her all his life in a last farewell. + Beauvouloir and Bertrand, the mother and the sleeping duke were all once + more assembled. Same place, same scene, same actors! but this was funereal + grief in place of the joys of motherhood; the night of death instead of + the dawn of life. At that moment the storm, threatened by the melancholy + moaning of the sea since sundown, suddenly burst forth. + </p> + <p> + “Dear flower of my life!” said the mother, kissing her son. “You were + taken from my bosom in the midst of a tempest, and in a tempest I am taken + from you. Between these storms all life has been stormy to me, except the + hours I have spent with you. This is my last joy, mingled with my last + pangs. Adieu, my only love! adieu, dear image of two souls that will soon + be reunited! Adieu, my only joy—pure joy! adieu, my own beloved!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me follow thee!” cried Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “It would be your better fate!” she said, two tears rolling down her livid + cheeks; for, as in former days, her eyes seemed to read the future. “Did + any one see him?” she asked of the two men. + </p> + <p> + At this instant the duke turned in his bed; they all trembled. + </p> + <p> + “Even my last joy is mingled with pain,” murmured the duchess. “Take him + away! take him away!” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, I would rather see you a moment longer and die!” said the poor + lad, as he fainted by her side. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from the duchess, Bertrand took Etienne in his arms, and, + showing him for the last time to his mother, who kissed him with a last + look, he turned to carry him away, awaiting the final order of the dying + mother. + </p> + <p> + “Love him well!” she said to the physician and Bertrand; “he has no + protectors but you and Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + Prompted by an instinct which never misleads a mother, she had felt the + pity of the old retainer for the eldest son of a house, for which his + veneration was only comparable to that of the Jews for their Holy City, + Jerusalem. As for Beauvouloir, the compact between himself and the duchess + had long been signed. The two servitors, deeply moved to see their + mistress forced to bequeath her noble child to none but themselves, + promised by a solemn gesture to be the providence of their young master, + and the mother had faith in that gesture. + </p> + <p> + The duchess died towards morning, mourned by the servants of the + household, who, for all comment, were heard to say beside her grave, “She + was a comely woman, sent from Paradise.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne’s sorrow was the most intense, the most lasting of sorrows, and + wholly silent. He wandered no more among his rocks; he felt no strength to + read or sing. He spent whole days crouched in the crevice of a rock, + caring nought for the inclemency of the weather, motionless, fastened to + the granite like the lichen that grew upon it; weeping seldom, lost in one + sole thought, immense, infinite as the ocean, and, like that ocean, taking + a thousand forms,—terrible, tempestuous, tender, calm. It was more + than sorrow; it was a new existence, an irrevocable destiny, dooming this + innocent creature to smile no more. There are pangs which, like a drop of + blood cast into flowing water, stain the whole current instantly. The + stream, renewed from its source, restores the purity of its surface; but + with Etienne the source itself was polluted, and each new current brought + its own gall. + </p> + <p> + Bertrand, in his old age, had retained the superintendence of the stables, + so as not to lose the habit of authority in the household. His house was + not far from that of Etienne, so that he was ever at hand to watch over + the youth with the persistent affection and simple wiliness characteristic + of old soldiers. He checked his roughness when speaking to the poor lad; + softly he walked in rainy weather to fetch him from his reverie in his + crevice to the house. He put his pride into filling the mother’s place, so + that her child might find, if not her love, at least the same attentions. + This pity resembled tenderness. Etienne bore, without complaint or + resistance, these attentions of the old retainer, but too many links were + now broken between the hated child and other creatures to admit of any + keen affection at present in his heart. Mechanically he allowed himself to + be protected; he became, as it were, an intermediary creature between man + and plant, or, perhaps one might say, between man and God. To what shall + we compare a being to whom all social laws, all the false sentiments of + the world were unknown, and who kept his ravishing innocence by obeying + nought but the instincts of his heart? + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, in spite of his sombre melancholy, he came to feel the need + of loving, of finding another mother, another soul for his soul. But, + separated from civilization by an iron wall, it was well-nigh impossible + to meet with a being who had flowered like himself. Instinctively seeking + another self to whom to confide his thoughts and whose life might blend + with his life, he ended in sympathizing with his Ocean. The sea became to + him a living, thinking being. Always in presence of that vast creation, + the hidden marvels of which contrast so grandly with those of earth, he + discovered the meaning of many mysteries. Familiar from his cradle with + the infinitude of those liquid fields, the sea and the sky taught him many + poems. To him, all was variety in that vast picture so monotonous to some. + Like other men whose souls dominate their bodies, he had a piercing sight + which could reach to enormous distances and seize, with admirable ease and + without fatigue, the fleeting tints of the clouds, the passing shimmer of + the waters. On days of perfect stillness his eyes could see the manifold + tints of the ocean, which to him, like the face of a woman, had its + physiognomy, its smiles, ideas, caprices; there green and sombre; here + smiling and azure; sometimes uniting its brilliant lines with the hazy + gleams of the horizon, or again, softly swaying beneath the orange-tinted + heavens. For him all-glorious fetes were celebrated at sundown when the + star of day poured its red colors on the waves in a crimson flood. For him + the sea was gay and sparkling and spirited when it quivered in repeating + the noonday light from a thousand dazzling facets; to him it revealed its + wondrous melancholy; it made him weep whenever, calm or sad, it reflected + the dun-gray sky surcharged with clouds. He had learned the mute language + of that vast creation. The flux and reflux of its waters were to him a + melodious breathing which uttered in his ear a sentiment; he felt and + comprehended its inward meaning. No mariner, no man of science, could have + predicted better than he the slightest wrath of the ocean, the faintest + change on that vast face. By the manner of the waves as they rose and died + away upon the shore, he could foresee tempests, surges, squalls, the + height of tides, or calms. When night had spread its veil upon the sky, he + still could see the sea in its twilight mystery, and talk with it. At all + times he shared its fecund life, feeling in his soul the tempest when it + was angry; breathing its rage in its hissing breath; running with its + waves as they broke in a thousand liquid fringes upon the rocks. He felt + himself intrepid, free, and terrible as the sea itself; like it, he + bounded and fell back; he kept its solemn silence; he copied its sudden + pause. In short, he had wedded the sea; it was now his confidant, his + friend. In the morning when he crossed the glowing sands of the beach and + came upon his rocks, he divined the temper of the ocean from a single + glance; he could see landscapes on its surface; he hovered above the face + of the waters, like an angel coming down from heaven. When the joyous, + mischievous white mists cast their gossamer before him, like a veil before + the face of a bride, he followed their undulations and caprices with the + joy of a lover. His thought, married with that grand expression of the + divine thought, consoled him in his solitude, and the thousand outlooks of + his soul peopled its desert with glorious fantasies. He ended at last by + divining in the motions of the sea its close communion with the celestial + system; he perceived nature in its harmonious whole, from the blade of + grass to the wandering stars which seek, like seeds driven by the wind, to + plant themselves in ether. + </p> + <p> + Pure as an angel, virgin of those ideas which degrade mankind, naive as a + child, he lived like a sea-bird, a gull, or a flower, prodigal of the + treasures of poetic imagination, and possessed of a divine knowledge, the + fruitful extent of which he contemplated in solitude. Incredible mingling + of two creations! sometimes he rose to God in prayer; sometimes he + descended, humble and resigned, to the quiet happiness of animals. To him + the stars were the flowers of night, the birds his friends, the sun was a + father. Everywhere he found the soul of his mother; often he saw her in + the clouds; he spoke to her; they communicated, veritably, by celestial + visions; on certain days he could hear her voice and see her smile; in + short, there were days when he had not lost her. God seemed to have given + him the power of the hermits of old, to have endowed him with some + perfected inner senses which penetrated to the spirit of all things. + Unknown moral forces enabled him to go farther than other men into the + secrets of the Immortal labor. His yearnings, his sorrows were the links + that united him to the unseen world; he went there, armed with his love, + to seek his mother; realizing thus, with the sublime harmonies of ecstasy, + the symbolic enterprise of Orpheus. + </p> + <p> + Often, when crouching in the crevice of some rock, capriciously curled up + in his granite grotto, the entrance to which was as narrow as that of a + charcoal kiln, he would sink into involuntary sleep, his figure softly + lighted by the warm rays of the sun which crept through the fissures and + fell upon the dainty seaweeds that adorned his retreat, the veritable nest + of a sea-bird. The sun, his sovereign lord, alone told him that he had + slept, by measuring the time he had been absent from his watery + landscapes, his golden sands, his shells and pebbles. Across a light as + brilliant as that from heaven he saw the cities of which he read; he + looked with amazement, but without envy, at courts and kings, battles, + men, and buildings. These daylight dreams made dearer to him his precious + flowers, his clouds, his sun, his granite rocks. To attach him the more to + his solitary existence, an angel seemed to reveal to him the abysses of + the moral world and the terrible shocks of civilization. He felt that his + soul, if torn by the throng of men, would perish like a pearl dropped from + the crown of a princess into mud. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + PART II. HOW THE SON DIED + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE HEIR + </h2> + <p> + In 1617, twenty and some years after the horrible night during which + Etienne came into the world, the Duc d’Herouville, then seventy-six years + old, broken, decrepit, almost dead, was sitting at sunset in an immense + arm-chair, before the gothic window of his bedroom, at the place where his + wife had so vainly implored, by the sounds of the horn wasted on the air, + the help of men and heaven. You might have thought him a body resurrected + from the grave. His once energetic face, stripped of its sinister aspect + by old age and suffering, was ghastly in color, matching the long meshes + of white hair which fell around his bald head, the yellow skull of which + seemed softening. The warrior and the fanatic still shone in those yellow + eyes, tempered now by religious sentiment. Devotion had cast a monastic + tone upon the face, formerly so hard, but now marked with tints which + softened its expression. The reflections of the setting sun colored with a + faintly ruddy tinge the head, which, in spite of all infirmities, was + still vigorous. The feeble body, wrapped in brown garments, gave, by its + heavy attitude and the absence of all movement, a vivid impression of the + monotonous existence, the terrible repose of this man once so active, so + enterprising, so vindictive. + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” he said to his chaplain. + </p> + <p> + That venerable old man was reading aloud the Gospel, standing before the + master in a respectful attitude. The duke, like an old menagerie lion + which has reached a decrepitude that is still full of majesty, turned to + another white-haired man and said, holding out a fleshless arm covered + with sparse hairs, still sinewy, but without vigor:— + </p> + <p> + “Your turn now, bonesetter. How am I to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Doing well, monseigneur; the fever has ceased. You will live many years + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could see Maximilien here,” continued the duke, with a smile of + satisfaction. “My fine boy! He commands a company in the King’s Guard. The + Marechal d’Ancre takes care of my lad, and our gracious Queen Marie thinks + of allying him nobly, now that he is created Duc de Nivron. My race will + be worthily continued. The lad performed prodigies of valor in the attack + on—” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Bertrand entered, holding a letter in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” said the old lord, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “A despatch brought by a courier sent to you by the king,” replied + Bertrand. + </p> + <p> + “The king, and not the queen-mother!” exclaimed the duke. “What is + happening? Have the Huguenots taken arms again? Tete-Dieu!” cried the old + man, rising to his feet and casting a flaming glance at his three + companions, “I’ll arm my soldiers once more, and, with Maximilien at my + side, Normandy shall—” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, my good seigneur,” said Beauvouloir, uneasy at seeing the duke + give way to an excitement that was dangerous to a convalescent. + </p> + <p> + “Read it, Maitre Corbineau,” said the old man, holding out the missive to + his confessor. + </p> + <p> + These four personages formed a tableau full of instruction upon human + life. The man-at-arms, the priest, and the physician, all three standing + before their master, who was seated in his arm-chair, were casting pallid + glances about them, each presenting one of those ideas which end by + possessing the whole man on the verge of the tomb. Strongly illumined by a + last ray of the setting sun, these silent men composed a picture of aged + melancholy fertile in contrasts. The sombre and solemn chamber, where + nothing had been changed in twenty-five years, made a frame for this + poetic canvas, full of extinguished passions, saddened by death, tinctured + by religion. + </p> + <p> + “The Marechal d’Ancre has been killed on the Pont du Louvre by order of + the king, and—O God!” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” cried the duke. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Duc de Nivron—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Is dead!” + </p> + <p> + The duke dropped his head upon his breast with a great sigh, but was + silent. At those words, at that sigh, the three old men looked at each + other. It seemed to them as though the illustrious and opulent house of + Herouville was disappearing before their eyes like a sinking ship. + </p> + <p> + “The Master above,” said the duke, casting a terrible glance at the + heavens, “is ungrateful to me. He forgets the great deeds I have performed + for his holy cause.” + </p> + <p> + “God has avenged himself!” said the priest, in a solemn voice. + </p> + <p> + “Put that man in the dungeon!” cried the duke. + </p> + <p> + “You can silence me far more easily than you can your conscience.” + </p> + <p> + The duke sank back in thought. + </p> + <p> + “My house to perish! My name to be extinct! I will marry! I will have a + son!” he said, after a long pause. + </p> + <p> + Though the expression of despair on the duke’s face was truly awful, the + bonesetter could not repress a smile. At that instant a song, fresh as the + evening breeze, pure as the sky, equable as the color of the ocean, rose + above the murmur of the waves, to cast its charm over Nature herself. The + melancholy of that voice, the melody of its tones shed, as it were, a + perfume rising to the soul; its harmony rose like a vapor filling the air; + it poured a balm on sorrows, or rather it consoled them by expressing + them. The voice mingled with the gurgle of the waves so perfectly that it + seemed to rise from the bosom of the waters. That song was sweeter to the + ears of those old men than the tenderest word of love on the lips of a + young girl; it brought religious hope into their souls like a voice from + heaven. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” asked the duke. + </p> + <p> + “The little nightingale is singing,” said Bertrand; “all is not lost, + either for him or for us.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you call a nightingale?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the name we have given to monseigneur’s eldest son,” replied + Bertrand. + </p> + <p> + “My son!” cried the old man; “have I a son?—a son to bear my name + and to perpetuate it!” + </p> + <p> + He rose to his feet and began to walk about the room with steps in turn + precipitate and slow. Then he made an imperious gesture, sending every one + away from him except the priest. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the duke, leaning on the arm of his old retainer + Bertrand, walked along the shore and among the rocks looking for the son + he had so long hated. He saw him from afar in a recess of the granite + rocks, lying carelessly extended in the sun, his head on a tuft of mossy + grass, his feet gracefully drawn up beneath him. So lying, Etienne was + like a swallow at rest. As soon as the tall old man appeared upon the + beach, the sound of his steps mingling faintly with the voice of the + waves, the young man turned his head, gave the cry of a startled bird, and + disappeared as if into the rock itself, like a mouse darting so quickly + into its hole that we doubt if we have even seen it. + </p> + <p> + “Hey! tete-Dieu! where has he hid himself?” cried the duke, reaching the + rock beside which his son had been lying. + </p> + <p> + “He is there,” replied Bertrand, pointing to a narrow crevice, the edges + of which had been polished smooth by the repeated assaults of the high + tide. + </p> + <p> + “Etienne, my beloved son!” called the old man. + </p> + <p> + The hated child made no reply. For hours the duke entreated, threatened, + implored in turn, receiving no response. Sometimes he was silent, with his + ear at the cleft of the rock, where even his enfeebled hearing could + detect the beating of Etienne’s heart, the quick pulsations of which + echoed from the sonorous roof of his rocky hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + “At least <i>he</i> lives!” said the old man, in a heartrending voice. + </p> + <p> + Towards the middle of the day, the father, reduced to despair, had + recourse to prayer:— + </p> + <p> + “Etienne,” he said, “my dear Etienne, God has punished me for disowning + you. He has deprived me of your brother. To-day you are my only child. I + love you more than I love myself. I see the wrong I have done; I know that + you have in your veins my blood with that of your mother, whose misery was + my doing. Come to me; I will try to make you forget my cruelty; I will + cherish you for all that I have lost. Etienne, you are the Duc de Nivron, + and you will be, after me, the Duc d’Herouville, peer of France, knight of + the Orders and of the Golden Fleece, captain of a hundred men-at-arms, + grand-bailiff of Bessin, Governor of Normandy, lord of twenty-seven + domains counting sixty-nine steeples, Marquis de Saint-Sever. You shall + take to wife the daughter of a prince. Would you have me die of grief? + Come! come to me! or here I kneel until I see you. Your old father prays + you, he humbles himself before his child as before God himself.” + </p> + <p> + The hated son paid no heed to this language bristling with social ideas + and vanities he did not comprehend; his soul remained under the + impressions of unconquerable terror. He was silent, suffering great agony. + Towards evening the old seigneur, after exhausting all formulas of + language, all resources of entreaty, all repentant promises, was overcome + by a sort of religious contrition. He knelt down upon the sand and made a + vow:— + </p> + <p> + “I swear to build a chapel to Saint-Jean and Saint-Etienne, the patrons of + my wife and son, and to found one hundred masses in honor of the Virgin, + if God and the saints will restore to me the affection of my son, the Duc + de Nivron, here present.” + </p> + <p> + He remained on his knees in deep humility with clasped hands, praying. + Finding that his son, the hope of his name, still did not come to him, + great tears rose in his eyes, dry so long, and rolled down his withered + cheeks. At this moment, Etienne, hearing no further sounds, glided to the + opening of his grotto like a young adder craving the sun. He saw the tears + of the stricken old man, he recognized the signs of a true grief, and, + seizing his father’s hand, he kissed him, saying in the voice of an angel:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother! forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + In the fever of his happiness the old duke lifted his feeble offspring in + his arms and carried him, trembling like an abducted girl, toward the + castle. As he felt the palpitation of his son’s body he strove to reassure + him, kissing him with all the caution he might have shown in touching a + delicate flower; and speaking in the gentlest tones he had ever in his + life used, in order to soothe him. + </p> + <p> + “God’s truth! you are like my poor Jeanne, dear child!” he said. “Teach me + what would give you pleasure, and I will give you all you can desire. Grow + strong! be well! I will show you how to ride a mare as pretty and gentle + as yourself. Nothing shall ever thwart or trouble you. Tete-Dieu! all + things bow to me as the reeds to the wind. I give you unlimited power. I + bow to you myself as the god of the family.” + </p> + <p> + The father carried his son into the lordly chamber where the mother’s sad + existence had been spent. Etienne turned away and leaned against the + window from which his mother was wont to make him signals announcing the + departure of his persecutor, who now, without his knowing why, had become + his slave, like those gigantic genii which the power of a fairy places at + the order of a young prince. That fairy was Feudality. Beholding once more + the melancholy room where his eyes were accustomed to contemplate the + ocean, tears came into those eyes; recollections of his long misery, + mingled with melodious memories of the pleasures he had had in the only + love that was granted to him, maternal love, all rushed together upon his + heart and developed there, like a poem at once terrible and delicious. The + emotions of this youth, accustomed to live in contemplations of ecstasy as + others in the excitements of the world, resembled none of the habitual + emotions of mankind. + </p> + <p> + “Will he live?” said the old man, amazed at the fragility of his heir, and + holding his breath as he leaned over him. + </p> + <p> + “I can live only here,” replied Etienne, who had heard him, simply. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, this room shall be yours, my child.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that noise?” asked the young man, hearing the retainers of the + castle who were gathering in the guard-room, whither the duke had summoned + them to present his son. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” said the father, taking him by the hand and leading him into the + great hall. + </p> + <p> + At this epoch of our history, a duke and peer, with great possessions, + holding public offices and the government of a province, lived the life of + a prince; the cadets of his family did not revolt at serving him. He had + his household guard and officers; the first lieutenant of his ordnance + company was to him what, in our day, an aide-de-camp is to a marshal. A + few years later, Cardinal de Richelieu had his body-guard. Several princes + allied to the royal house—Guise, Conde, Nevers, and Vendome, etc.—had + pages chosen among the sons of the best families,—a last lingering + custom of departed chivalry. The wealth of the Duc d’Herouville, and the + antiquity of his Norman race indicated by his name (“herus villoe”), + permitted him to imitate the magnificence of families who were in other + respects his inferiors,—those, for instance, of Epernon, Luynes, + Balagny, d’O, Zamet, regarded as parvenus, but living, nevertheless, as + princes. It was therefore an imposing spectacle for poor Etienne to see + the assemblage of retainers of all kinds attached to the service of his + father. + </p> + <p> + The duke seated himself on a chair of state placed under a “solium,” or + dais of carved word, above a platform raised by several steps, from which, + in certain provinces, the great seigneurs still delivered judgment on + their vassals,—a vestige of feudality which disappeared under the + reign of Richelieu. These thrones, like the warden’s benches of the + churches, have now become objects of collection as curiosities. When + Etienne was placed beside his father on that raised platform, he shuddered + at feeling himself the centre to which all eyes turned. + </p> + <p> + “Do not tremble,” said the duke, bending his bald head to his son’s ear; + “these people are only our servants.” + </p> + <p> + Through the dusky light produced by the setting sun, the rays of which + were reddening the leaded panes of the windows, Etienne saw the bailiff, + the captain and lieutenant of the guard, with certain of their + men-at-arms, the chaplain, the secretaries, the doctor, the majordomo, the + ushers, the steward, the huntsmen, the game-keeper, the grooms, and the + valets. Though all these people stood in respectful attitudes, induced by + the terror the old man inspired in even the most important persons under + his command, a low murmur, caused by curiosity and expectation, made + itself heard. That sound oppressed the bosom of the young man, who felt + for the first time in his life the influence of the heavy atmosphere + produced by the breath of many persons in a closed hall. His senses, + accustomed to the pure and wholesome air from the sea, were shocked with a + rapidity that proved the super-sensitiveness of his organs. A horrible + palpitation, due no doubt to some defect in the organization of his heart, + shook him with reiterated blows when his father, showing himself to the + assemblage like some majestic old lion, pronounced in a solemn voice the + following brief address:— + </p> + <p> + “My friends, this is my son Etienne, my first-born son, my heir + presumptive, the Duc de Nivron, to whom the king will no doubt grant the + honors of his deceased brother. I present him to you that you may + acknowledge him and obey him as myself. I warn you that if you, or any one + in this province, over which I am governor, does aught to displease the + young duke, or thwart him in any way whatsoever, it would be better, + should it come to my knowledge, that that man had never been born. You + hear me. Return now to your duties, and God guide you. The obsequies of my + son Maximilien will take place here when his body arrives. The household + will go into mourning eight days hence. Later, we shall celebrate the + accession of my son Etienne here present.” + </p> + <p> + “Vive monseigneur! Long live the race of Herouville!” cried the people in + a roar that shook the castle. + </p> + <p> + The valets brought in torches to illuminate the hall. That hurrah, the + sudden lights, the sensations caused by his father’s speech, joined to + those he was already feeling, overcame the young man, who fainted + completely and fell into a chair, leaving his slender womanly hand in the + broad palm of his father. As the duke, who had signed to the lieutenant of + his company to come nearer, saying to him, “I am fortunate, Baron + d’Artagnon, in being able to repair my loss; behold my son!” he felt an + icy hand in his. Turning round, he looked at the new Duc de Nivron, and, + thinking him dead, he uttered a cry of horror which appalled the + assemblage. + </p> + <p> + Beauvouloir rushed to the platform, took the young man in his arms, and + carried him away, saying to his master, “You have killed him by not + preparing him for this ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + “He can never have a child if he is like that!” cried the duke, following + Beauvouloir into the seignorial chamber, where the doctor laid the young + heir upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what think you?” asked the duke presently. + </p> + <p> + “It is not serious,” replied the old physician, showing Etienne, who was + now revived by a cordial, a few drops of which he had given him on a bit + of sugar, a new and precious substance which the apothecaries were selling + for its weight in gold. + </p> + <p> + “Take this, old rascal!” said the duke, offering his purse to Beauvouloir, + “and treat him like the son of a king! If he dies by your fault, I’ll burn + you myself on a gridiron.” + </p> + <p> + “If you continue to be so violent, the Duc de Nivron will die by your own + act,” said the doctor, roughly. “Leave him now; he will go to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, my love,” said the old man, kissing his son upon the + forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, father,” replied the youth, whose voice made the father—thus + named by Etienne for the first time—quiver. + </p> + <p> + The duke took Beauvouloir by the arm and led him to the next room, where, + having pushed him into the recess of a window, he said:— + </p> + <p> + “Ah ca! old rascal, now we will understand each other.” + </p> + <p> + That term, a favorite sign of graciousness with the duke, made the doctor, + no longer a mere bonesetter, smile. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” said the duke, continuing, “that I wish you no harm. You have + twice delivered my poor Jeanne, you cured my son Maximilien of an illness, + in short, you are a part of my household. Poor Maximilien! I will avenge + him; I take upon myself to kill the man who killed him. The whole future + of the house of Herouville is now in your hands. You alone can know if + there is in that poor abortion the stuff that can breed a Herouville. You + hear me. What think you?” + </p> + <p> + “His life on the seashore has been so chaste and so pure that nature is + sounder in him than it would have been had he lived in your world. But so + delicate a body is the very humble servant of the soul. Monseigneur + Etienne must himself choose his wife; all things in him must be the work + of nature and not of your will. He will love artlessly, and will + accomplish by his heart’s desire that which you wish him to do for the + sake of your name. But if you give your son a proud, ungainly woman of the + world, a great lady, he will flee to his rocks. More than that; though + sudden terror would surely kill him, I believe that any sudden emotion + would be equally fatal. My advice therefore is to leave Etienne to choose + for himself, at his own pleasure, the path of love. Listen to me, + monseigneur; you are a great and powerful prince, but you understand + nothing of such matters. Give me your entire confidence, your unlimited + confidence, and you shall have a grandson.” + </p> + <p> + “If I obtain a grandson by any sorcery whatever, I shall have you + ennobled. Yes, difficult as it may be, I’ll make an old rascal into a man + of honor; you shall be Baron de Forcalier. Employ your magic, white or + black, appeal to your witches’ sabbath or the novenas of the Church; what + care I how ‘tis done, provided my line male continues?” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Beauvouloir, “a whole chapter of sorcerers capable of + destroying your hopes; they are none other than <i>yourself</i>, + monseigneur. I know you. To-day you want male lineage at any price; + to-morrow you will seek to have it on your own conditions; you will + torment your son.” + </p> + <p> + “God preserve me from it!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, go away from here; go to court, where the death of the + marechal and the emancipation of the king must have turned everything + topsy turvy, and where you certainly have business, if only to obtain the + marshal’s baton which was promised to you. Leave Monseigneur Etienne to + me. But give me your word of honor as a gentleman to approve whatever I + may do for him.” + </p> + <p> + The duke struck his hand into that of his physician as a sign of complete + acceptance, and retired to his own apartments. + </p> + <p> + When the days of a high and mighty seigneur are numbered, the physician + becomes a personage of importance in the household. It is, therefore, not + surprising to see a former bonesetter so familiar with the Duc + d’Herouville. Apart from the illegitimate ties which connected him, by + marriage, to this great family and certainly militated in his favor, his + sound good sense had so often been proved by the duke that the old man had + now become his master’s most valued counsellor. Beauvouloir was the + Coyctier of this Louis XI. Nevertheless, and no matter how valuable his + knowledge might be, he never obtained over the government of Normandy, in + whom was the ferocity of religious warfare, as much influence as feudality + exercised over that rugged nature. For this reason the physician was + confident that the prejudices of the noble would thwart the desires and + the vows of the father. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. GABRIELLE + </h2> + <p> + Great physician that he was, Beauvouloir saw plainly that to a being so + delicately organized as Etienne marriage must come as a slow and gentle + inspiration, communicating new powers to his being and vivifying it with + the fires of love. As he had said to the father, to impose a wife on + Etienne would be to kill him. Above all it was important that the young + recluse should not be alarmed at the thought of marriage, of which he knew + nothing, or be made aware of the object of his father’s wishes. This + unknown poet conceived as yet only the beautiful and noble passion of + Petrarch for Laura, of Dante for Beatrice. Like his mother he was all pure + love and soul; the opportunity to love must be given to him, and then the + event should be awaited, not compelled. A command to love would have dried + within him the very sources of his life. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Antoine Beauvouloir was a father; he had a daughter brought up + under conditions which made her the wife for Etienne. It was so difficult + to foresee the events which would make a son, disowned by his father and + destined to the priesthood, the presumptive heir of the house of + Herouville that Beauvouloir had never until now noticed the resemblance + between the fate of Etienne and that of Gabrielle. A sudden idea which now + came to him was inspired more by his devotion to those two beings than by + ambition. + </p> + <p> + His wife, in spite of his great skill, had died in child-bed leaving him a + daughter whose health was so frail that it seemed as if the mother had + bequeathed to her fruit the germs of death. Beauvouloir loved his + Gabrielle as old men love their only child. His science and his incessant + care had given factitious life to this frail creature, which he cultivated + as a florist cultivates an exotic plant. He had kept her hidden from all + eyes on his estate of Forcalier, where she was protected against the + dangers of the time by the general good-will felt for a man to whom all + owed gratitude, and whose scientific powers inspired in the ignorant minds + of the country-people a superstitious awe. + </p> + <p> + By attaching himself to the house of Herouville, Beauvouloir had increased + still further the immunity he enjoyed in the province, and had thwarted + all attempts of his enemies by means of his powerful influence with the + governor. He had taken care, however, in coming to reside at the castle, + not to bring with him the flower he cherished in secret at Forcalier, a + domain more important for its landed value than for the house then upon + it, but with which he expected to obtain for his daughter an establishment + in conformity with his views. While promising the duke a posterity and + requiring his master’s word of honor to approve his acts, he thought + suddenly of Gabrielle, of that sweet child whose mother had been neglected + and forgotten by the duke as he had also neglected and forgotten his son + Etienne. + </p> + <p> + He awaited the departure of his master before putting his plan into + execution; foreseeing that, if the duke became aware of it, the enormous + difficulties in the way would be from the first insurmountable. + </p> + <p> + Beauvouloir’s house at Forcalier had a southern exposure on the slope of + one of those gentle hills which surround the vales of Normandy; a thick + wood shielded it from the north; high walls and Norman hedges and deep + ditches made the enclosure inviolable. The garden, descending by an easy + incline to the river which watered the valley, had a thick double hedge at + its foot, forming an natural embankment. Within this double hedge wound a + hidden path, led by the sinuosities of the stream, which the willows, + oaks, and beeches made as leafy as a woodland glade. From the house to + this natural rampart stretched a mass of verdure peculiar to that rich + soil; a beautiful green sheet bordered by a fringe of rare trees, the + tones of which formed a tapestry of exquisite coloring: there, the silvery + tints of a pine stood forth against the darker green of several alders; + here, before a group of sturdy oaks a slender poplar lifted its palm-like + figure, ever swaying; farther on, the weeping willows drooped their pale + foliage between the stout, round-headed walnuts. This belt of trees + enabled the occupants of the house to go down at all hours to the + river-bank fearless of the rays of the sun. + </p> + <p> + The facade of the house, before which lay the yellow ribbon of a gravelled + terrace, was shaded by a wooden gallery, around which climbing plants were + twining, and tossing in this month of May their various blossoms into the + very windows of the second floor. Without being really vast, this garden + seemed immense from the manner in which its vistas were cut; points of + view, cleverly contrived through the rise and fall of the ground, married + themselves, as it were, to those of the valley, where the eye could rove + at will. Following the instincts of her thought, Gabrielle could either + enter the solitude of a narrow space, seeing naught but the thick green + and the blue of the sky above the tree-tops, or she could hover above a + glorious prospect, letting her eyes follow those many-shaded green lines, + from the brilliant colors of the foreground to the pure tones of the + horizon on which they lost themselves, sometimes in the blue ocean of the + atmosphere, sometimes in the cumuli that floated above it. + </p> + <p> + Watched over by her grandmother and served by her former nurse, Gabrielle + Beauvouloir never left this modest home except for the parish church, the + steeple of which could be seen at the summit of the hill, whither she was + always accompanied by her grandmother, her nurse, and her father’s valet. + She had reached the age of seventeen in that sweet ignorance which the + rarity of books allowed a girl to retain without appearing extraordinary + at a period when educated women were thought phenomenal. The house had + been to her a convent, but with more freedom, less enforced prayer,—a + retreat where she had lived beneath the eye of a pious old woman and the + protection of her father, the only man she had ever known. This absolute + solitude, necessitated from her birth by the apparent feebleness of her + constitution, had been carefully maintained by Beauvouloir. + </p> + <p> + As Gabrielle grew up, such constant care and the purity of the atmosphere + had gradually strengthened her fragile youth. Still, the wise physician + did not deceive himself when he saw the pearly tints around his daughter’s + eyes soften or darken or flush according to the emotions that overcame + her; the weakness of the body and the strength of the soul were made plain + to him in that one indication which his long experience enabled him to + understand. Besides this, Gabrielle’s celestial beauty made him fearful of + attempts too common in times of violence and sedition. Many reasons had + thus induced the good father to deepen the shadows and increase the + solitude that surrounded his daughter, whose excessive sensibility alarmed + him; a passion, an assault, a shock of any kind might wound her mortally. + Though she seldom deserved blame, a mere word of reproach overcame her; + she kept it in the depths of her heart, where it fostered a meditative + melancholy; she would turn away weeping, and wept long. + </p> + <p> + Thus the moral education of the young girl required no less care than her + physical education. The old physician had been compelled to cease telling + stories, such as all children love, to his daughter; the impressions she + received were too vivid. Wise through long practice, he endeavored to + develop her body in order to deaden the blows which a soul so powerful + gave to it. Gabrielle was all of life and love to her father, his only + heir, and never had he hesitated to procure for her such things as might + produce the results he aimed for. He carefully removed from her knowledge + books, pictures, music, all those creations of art which awaken thought. + Aided by his mother he interested Gabrielle in manual exercises. Tapestry, + sewing, lace-making, the culture of flowers, household cares, the storage + of fruits, in short, the most material occupations of life, were the food + given to the mind of this charming creature. Beauvouloir brought her + beautiful spinning-wheels, finely-carved chests, rich carpets, pottery of + Bernard de Palissy, tables, prie-dieus, chairs beautifully wrought and + covered with precious stuffs, embroidered line and jewels. With an + instinct given by paternity, the old man always chose his presents among + the works of that fantastic order called arabesque, which, speaking + neither to the soul nor the senses, addresses the mind only by its + creations of pure fantasy. + </p> + <p> + Thus—singular to say!—the life which the hatred of a father + had imposed on Etienne d’Herouville, paternal love had induced Beauvouloir + to impose on Gabrielle. In both these children the soul was killing the + body; and without an absolute solitude, ordained by cruelty for one and + procured by science for the other, each was likely to succumb,—he to + terror, she beneath the weight of a too keen emotion of love. But, alas! + instead of being born in a region of gorse and moor, in the midst of an + arid nature of hard and angular shapes, such as all great painters have + given as backgrounds to their Virgins, Gabrielle lived in a rich and + fertile valley. Beauvouloir could not destroy the harmonious grouping of + the native woods, the graceful upspringing of the wild flowers, the cool + softness of the grassy slopes, the love expressed in the intertwining + growth of the clustering plants. Such ever-living poesies have a language + heard, rather than understood by the poor girl, who yielded to vague + misery among the shadows. Across the misty ideas suggested by her long + study of this beautiful landscape, observed at all seasons and through all + the variations of a marine atmosphere in which the fogs of England come to + die and the sunshine of France is born, there rose within her soul a + distant light, a dawn which pierced the darkness in which her father kept + her. + </p> + <p> + Beauvouloir had never withdrawn his daughter from the influence of Divine + love; to a deep admiration of nature she joined her girlish adoration of + the Creator, springing thus into the first way open to the feelings of + womanhood. She loved God, she loved Jesus, the Virgin and the saints; she + loved the Church and its pomps; she was Catholic after the manner of Saint + Teresa, who saw in Jesus an eternal spouse, a continual marriage. + Gabrielle gave herself up to this passion of strong souls with so touching + a simplicity that she would have disarmed the most brutal seducer by the + infantine naivete of her language. + </p> + <p> + Whither was this life of innocence leading Gabrielle? How teach a mind as + pure as the water of a tranquil lake, reflecting only the azure of the + skies? What images should be drawn upon that spotless canvas? Around which + tree must the tendrils of this bind-weed twine? No father has ever put + these questions to himself without an inward shudder. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the good old man of science was riding slowly on his mule + along the roads from Herouville to Ourscamp (the name of the village near + which the estate of Forcalier was situated) as if he wished to keep that + way unending. The infinite love he bore his daughter suggested a bold + project to his mind. One only being in all the world could make her happy; + that man was Etienne. Assuredly, the angelic son of Jeanne de Saint-Savin + and the guileless daughter of Gertrude Marana were twin beings. All other + women would frighten and kill the heir of Herouville; and Gabrielle, so + Beauvouloir argued, would perish by contact with any man in whom + sentiments and external forms had not the virgin delicacy of those of + Etienne. Certainly the poor physician had never dreamed of such a result; + chance had brought it forward and seemed to ordain it. But, under, the + reign of Louis XIII., to dare to lead a Duc d’Herouville to marry the + daughter of a bonesetter! + </p> + <p> + And yet, from this marriage alone was it likely that the lineage + imperiously demanded by the old duke would result. Nature had destined + these two rare beings for each other; God had brought them together by a + marvellous arrangement of events, while, at the same time, human ideas and + laws placed insuperable barriers between them. Though the old man thought + he saw in this the finger of God, and although he had forced the duke to + pass his word, he was seized with such fear, as his thoughts reverted to + the violence of that ungovernable nature, that he returned upon his steps + when, on reaching the summit of the hill above Ourscamp, he saw the smoke + of his own chimneys among the trees that enclosed his home. Then, changing + his mind once more, the thought of the illegitimate relationship decided + him; that consideration might have great influence on the mind of his + master. Once decided, Beauvouloir had confidence in the chances and + changes of life; it might be that the duke would die before the marriage; + besides, there were many examples of such marriage; a peasant girl in + Dauphine, Francoise Mignot, had lately married the Marechal d’Hopital; the + son of the Connetable Anne de Montmorency had married Diane, daughter of + Henri II. and a Piedmontese lady named Philippa Duc. + </p> + <p> + During this mental deliberation in which paternal love measured all + probabilities and discussed both the good and the evil chances, striving + to foresee the future and weighing its elements, Gabrielle was walking in + the garden and gathering flowers for the vases of that illustrious potter, + who did for glaze what Benvenuto Cellini did for metal. Gabrielle had put + one of these vases, decorated with animals in relief, on a table in the + middle of the hall, and was filling it with flowers to enliven her + grandmother, and also, perhaps, to give form to her own ideas. The noble + vase, of the pottery called Limoges, was filled, arranged, and placed upon + the handsome table-cloth, and Gabrielle was saying to her grandmother, + “See!” when Beauvouloir entered. The young girl ran to her father’s arms. + After this first outburst of affection she wanted him to admire her + bouquet; but the old man, after glancing at it, cast a long, deep look at + his daughter, which made her blush. + </p> + <p> + “The time has come,” he said to himself, understanding the language of + those flowers, each of which had doubtless been studied as to form and as + to color, and given its true place in the bouquet, where it produced its + own magical effect. + </p> + <p> + Gabrielle remained standing, forgetting the flower begun on her tapestry. + As he looked at his daughter a tear rolled from Beauvouloir’s eyes, + furrowed his cheeks which seldom wore a serious aspect, and fell upon his + shirt, which, after the fashion of the day, his open doublet exposed to + view above his breeches. He threw off his felt hat, adorned with an old + red plume, in order to rub his hand over his bald head. Again he looked at + his daughter, who, beneath the brown rafters of that leather-hung room, + with its ebony furniture and portieres of silken damask, and its tall + chimney-piece, the whole so softly lighted, was still his very own. The + poor father felt the tears in his eyes and hastened to wipe them. A father + who loves his daughter longs to keep her always a child; as for him who + can without deep pain see her fall under the dominion of another man, he + does not rise to worlds superior, he falls to lowest space. + </p> + <p> + “What ails you, my son?” said his old mother, taking off her spectacles, + and seeking the cause of his silence and of the change in his usually + joyous manner. + </p> + <p> + The old physician signed to the old mother to look at his daughter, + nodding his head with satisfaction as if to say, “How sweet she is!” + </p> + <p> + What father would not have felt Beauvouloir’s emotion on seeing the young + girl as she stood there in the Norman dress of that period? Gabrielle wore + the corset pointed before and square behind, which the Italian masters + give almost invariably to their saints and their madonnas. This elegant + corselet, made of sky-blue velvet, as dainty as that of a dragon-fly, + enclosed the bust like a guimpe and compressed it, delicately modelling + the outline as it seemed to flatten; it moulded the shoulders, the back, + the waist, with the precision of a drawing made by an able draftsman, + ending around the neck in an oblong curve, adorned at the edges with a + slight embroidery in brown silks, leaving to view as much of the bare + throat as was needed to show the beauty of her womanhood, but not enough + to awaken desire. A full brown skirt, continuing the lines already drawn + by the velvet waist, fell to her feet in narrow flattened pleats. Her + figure was so slender that Gabrielle seemed tall; her arms hung pendent + with the inertia that some deep thought imparts to the attitude. Thus + standing, she presented a living model of those ingenuous works of + statuary a taste for which prevailed at that period,—works which + obtained admiration for the harmony of their lines, straight without + stiffness, and for the firmness of a design which did not exclude + vitality. No swallow, brushing the window-panes at dusk, ever conveyed the + idea of greater elegance of outline. + </p> + <p> + Gabrielle’s face was thin, but not flat; on her neck and forehead ran + bluish threads showing the delicacy of a skin so transparent that the + flowing of the blood through her veins seemed visible. This excessive + whiteness was faintly tinted with rose upon the cheeks. Held beneath a + little coif of sky-blue velvet embroidered with pearls, her hair, of an + even tone, flowed like two rivulets of gold from her temples and played in + ringlets on her neck, which it did not hide. The glowing color of those + silky locks brightened the dazzling whiteness of the neck, and purified + still further by its reflections the outlines of the face already so pure. + The eyes, which were long and as if pressed between their lids, were in + harmony with the delicacy of the head and body; their pearl-gray tints + were brilliant without vivacity, candid without passion. The line of the + nose might have seemed cold, like a steel blade, without two rosy + nostrils, the movements of which were out of keeping with the chastity of + that dreamy brow, often perplexed, sometimes smiling, but always of an + august serenity. An alert little ear attracted the eye, peeping beneath + the coif and between two curls, and showing a ruby ear-drop, the color of + which stood vigorously out on the milky whiteness of the neck. This was + neither Norman beauty, where flesh abounds, nor French beauty, as fugitive + as its own expressions, nor the beauty of the North, cold and melancholy + as the North itself—it was the deep seraphic beauty of the Catholic + Church, supple and rigid, severe but tender. + </p> + <p> + “Where could one find a prettier duchess?” thought Beauvouloir, + contemplating his daughter with delight. As she stood there slightly + bending, her neck stretched out to watch the flight of a bird past the + windows, he could only compare her to a gazelle pausing to listen for the + ripple of the water where she seeks to drink. + </p> + <p> + “Come and sit here,” said Beauvouloir, tapping his knee and making a sign + to Gabrielle, which told her he had something to whisper to her. + </p> + <p> + Gabrielle understood him, and came. She placed herself on his knee with + the lightness of a gazelle, and slipped her arm about his neck, ruffling + his collar. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said, “what were you thinking of when you gathered those + flowers? You have never before arranged them so charmingly.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of many things,” she answered. “Looking at the flowers + made for us, I wondered whom we were made for; who are they who look at + us? You are wise, and I can tell you what I think; you know so much you + can explain all. I feel a sort of force within me that wants to exercise + itself; I struggle against something. When the sky is gray I am half + content; I am sad, but I am calm. When the day is fine, and the flowers + smell sweet, and I sit on my bench down there among the jasmine and + honeysuckles, something rises in me, like waves which beat against my + stillness. Ideas come into my mind which shake me, and fly away like those + birds before the windows; I cannot hold them. Well, when I have made a + bouquet in which the colors blend like tapestry, and the red contrasts + with white, and the greens and the browns cross each other, when all seems + so abundant, the breeze so playful, the flowers so many that their + fragrance mingles and their buds interlace,—well, then I am happy, + for I see what is passing in me. At church when the organ plays and the + clergy respond, there are two distinct songs speaking to each other,—the + human voice and the music. Well, then, too, I am happy; that harmony + echoes in my breast. I pray with a pleasure which stirs my blood.” + </p> + <p> + While listening to his daughter, Beauvouloir examined her with sagacious + eyes; those eyes seemed almost stupid from the force of his rushing + thoughts, as the water of a cascade seems motionless. He raised the veil + of flesh which hid the secret springs by which the soul reacts upon the + body; he studied the diverse symptoms which his long experience had noted + in persons committed to his care, and he compared them with those + contained in this frail body, the bones of which frightened him by their + delicacy, as the milk-white skin alarmed him by its want of substance. He + tried to bring the teachings of his science to bear upon the future of + that angelic child, and he was dizzy in so doing, as though he stood upon + the verge of an abyss; the too vibrant voice, the too slender bosom of the + young girl filled him with dread, and he questioned himself after + questioning her. + </p> + <p> + “You suffer here!” he cried at last, driven by a last thought which summed + up his whole meditation. + </p> + <p> + She bent her head gently. + </p> + <p> + “By God’s grace!” said the old man, with a sigh, “I will take you to the + Chateau d’Herouville, and there you shall take sea-baths to strengthen + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that true, father? You are not laughing at your little Gabrielle? I + have so longed to see the castle, and the men-at-arms, and the captains of + monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my daughter, you shall really go there. Your nurse and Jean shall + accompany you.” + </p> + <p> + “Soon?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” said the old man, hurrying into the garden to hide his + agitation from his mother and his child. + </p> + <p> + “God is my witness,” he cried to himself, “that no ambitious thought + impels me. My daughter to save, poor little Etienne to make happy,—those + are my only motives.” + </p> + <p> + If he thus interrogated himself it was because, in the depths of his + consciousness, he felt an inextinguishable satisfaction in knowing that + the success of his project would make Gabrielle some day the Duchesse + d’Herouville. There is always a man in a father. He walked about a long + time, and when he came in to supper he took delight for the rest of the + evening in watching his daughter in the midst of the soft brown poesy with + which he had surrounded her; and when, before she went to bed, they all—the + grandmother, the nurse, the doctor, and Gabrielle—knelt together to + say their evening prayer, he added the words,— + </p> + <p> + “Let us pray to God to bless my enterprise.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the grandmother, who knew his intentions, were moistened with + what tears remained to her. Gabrielle’s face was flushed with happiness. + The father trembled, so much did he fear some catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” his mother said to him, “fear not, my son. The duke would + never kill his grandchild.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied, “but he might compel her to marry some brute of a baron, + and that would kill her.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Gabrielle, mounted on an ass, followed by her nurse on foot, + her father on his mule, and a valet who led two horses laden with baggage, + started for the castle of Herouville, where the caravan arrived at + nightfall. In order to keep this journey secret, Beauvouloir had taken + by-roads, starting early in the morning, and had brought provisions to be + eaten by the way, in order not to show himself at hostelries. The party + arrived, therefore, after dark, without being noticed by the castle + retinue, at the little dwelling on the seashore, so long occupied by the + hated son, where Bertrand, the only person the doctor had taken into his + confidence, awaited them. The old retainer helped the nurse and valet to + unload the horses and carry in the baggage, and otherwise establish the + daughter of Beauvouloir in Etienne’s former abode. When Bertrand saw + Gabrielle, he was amazed. + </p> + <p> + “I seem to see madame!” he cried. “She is slim and willowy like her; she + has madame’s coloring and the same fair hair. The old duke will surely + love her.” + </p> + <p> + “God grant it!” said Beauvouloir. “But will he acknowledge his own blood + after it has passed through mine?” + </p> + <p> + “He can’t deny it,” replied Bertrand. “I often went to fetch him from the + door of the Belle Romaine, who lived in the rue Culture-Sainte-Catherine. + The Cardinal de Lorraine was compelled to give her up to monseigneur, out + of shame at being insulted by the mob when he left her house. Monseigneur, + who in those days was still in his twenties, will remember that affair; + bold he was,—I can tell it now—he led the insulters!” + </p> + <p> + “He never thinks of the past,” said Beauvouloir. “He knows my wife is + dead, but I doubt if he remembers I have a daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Two old navigators like you and me ought to be able to bring the ship to + port,” said Bertrand. “After all, suppose the duke does get angry and + seize our carcasses; they have served their time.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. LOVE + </h2> + <p> + Before starting for Paris, the Duc d’Herouville had forbidden the castle + servants under heavy pains and penalties to go upon the shore where + Etienne had passed his life, unless the Duc de Nivron took any of them + with him. This order, suggested by Beauvouloir, who had shown the duke the + wisdom of leaving Etienne master of his solitude, guaranteed to Gabrielle + and her attendants the inviolability of the little domain, outside of + which he forbade them to go without his permission. + </p> + <p> + Etienne had remained during these two days shut up in the old seignorial + bedroom under the spell of his tenderest memories. In that bed his mother + had slept; her thoughts had been confided to the furnishings of that room; + she had used them; her eyes had often wandered among those draperies; how + often she had gone to that window to call with a cry, a sign, her poor + disowned child, now master of the chateau. Alone in that room, whither he + had last come secretly, brought by Beauvouloir to kiss his dying mother, + he fancied that she lived again; he spoke to her, he listened to her, he + drank from that spring that never faileth, and from which have flowed so + many songs like the “Super flumina Babylonis.” + </p> + <p> + The day after Beauvouloir’s return he went to see his young master and + blamed him gently for shutting himself up in a single room, pointing out + to him the danger of leading a prison life in place of his former free + life in the open air. + </p> + <p> + “But this air is vast,” replied Etienne. “The spirit of my mother is in + it.” + </p> + <p> + The physician prevailed, however, by the gentle influence of affection, in + making Etienne promise that he would go out every day, either on the + seashore, or in the fields and meadows which were still unknown to him. In + spite of this, Etienne, absorbed in his memories, remained yet another day + at his window watching the sea, which offered him from that point of view + aspects so various that never, as he believed, had he seen it so + beautiful. He mingled his contemplations with readings in Petrarch, one of + his most favorite authors,—him whose poesy went nearest to the young + man’s heart through the constancy and the unity of his love. Etienne had + not within him the stuff for several passions. He could love but once, and + in one way only. If that love, like all that is a unit, were intense, it + must also be calm in its expression, sweet and pure like the sonnets of + the Italian poet. + </p> + <p> + At sunset this child of solitude began to sing, in the marvellous voice + which had entered suddenly, like a hope, into the dullest of all ears to + music,—those of his father. He expressed his melancholy by varying + the same air, which he repeated, again and again, like the nightingale. + This air, attributed to the late King Henri IV., was not the so-called air + of “Gabrielle,” but something far superior as art, as melody, as the + expression of infinite tenderness. The admirers of those ancient tunes + will recognize the words, composed by the great king to this air, which + were taken, probably, from some folk-song to which his cradle had been + rocked among the mountains of Bearn. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dawn, approach, + I pray thee; + It gladdens me to see thee; + The maiden + Whom I love + Is rosy, rosy like thee; + The rose itself, + Dew-laden, + Has not her freshness; + Ermine has not + Her pureness; + Lilies have not + Her whiteness.” + </pre> + <p> + After naively revealing the thought of his heart in song, Etienne + contemplated the sea, saying to himself: “There is my bride; the only love + for me!” Then he sang too other lines of the canzonet,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “She is fair + Beyond compare,”— +</pre> + <p> + repeating it to express the imploring poesy which abounds in the heart of + a timid young man, brave only when alone. Dreams were in that undulating + song, sung, resung, interrupted, renewed, and hushed at last in a final + modulation, the tones of which died away like the lingering vibrations of + a bell. + </p> + <p> + At this moment a voice, which he fancied was that of a siren rising from + the sea, a woman’s voice, repeated the air he had sung, but with all the + hesitations of a person to whom music is revealed for the first time. He + recognized the stammering of a heart born into the poesy of harmony. + Etienne, to whom long study of his own voice had taught the language of + sounds, in which the soul finds resources greater than speech to express + its thoughts, could divine the timid amazement that attended these + attempts. With what religious and subtile admiration had that unknown + being listened to him! The stillness of the atmosphere enabled him to hear + every sound, and he quivered at the distant rustle of the folds of a gown. + He was amazed,—he, whom all emotions produced by terror sent to the + verge of death—to feel within him the healing, balsamic sensation + which his mother’s coming had formerly brought to him. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Gabrielle, my child,” said the voice of Beauvouloir, “I forbade you + to stay upon the seashore after sundown; you must come in, my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Gabrielle,” said Etienne to himself. “Oh! the pretty name!” + </p> + <p> + Beauvouloir presently came to him, rousing his young master from one of + those meditations which resemble dreams. It was night, and the moon was + rising. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” said the physician, “you have not been out to-day, and it + is not wise of you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” replied Etienne, “can <i>I</i> go on the seashore after sundown?” + </p> + <p> + The double meaning of this speech, full of the gentle playfulness of a + first desire, made the old man smile. + </p> + <p> + “You have a daughter, Beauvouloir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monseigneur,—the child of my old age; my darling child. + Monseigneur, the duke, your father, charged me so earnestly to watch your + precious health that, not being able to go to Forcalier, where she was, I + have brought her here, to my great regret. In order to conceal her from + all eyes, I have placed her in the house monseigneur used to occupy. She + is so delicate I fear everything, even a sudden sentiment or emotion. I + have never taught her anything; knowledge would kill her.” + </p> + <p> + “She knows nothing!” cried Etienne, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “She has all the talents of a good housewife, but she has lived as the + plants live. Ignorance, monseigneur, is as sacred a thing as knowledge. + Knowledge and ignorance are only two ways of living, for the human + creature. Both preserve the soul and envelop it; knowledge is your + existence, but ignorance will save my daughter’s life. Pearls well-hidden + escape the diver, and live happy. I can only compare my Gabrielle to a + pearl; her skin has the pearl’s translucence, her soul its softness, and + until this day Forcalier has been her fostering shell.” + </p> + <p> + “Come with me,” said Etienne, throwing on a cloak. “I want to walk on the + seashore, the air is so soft.” + </p> + <p> + Beauvouloir and his master walked in silence until they reached a spot + where a line of light, coming from between the shutters of a fisherman’s + house, had furrowed the sea with a golden rivulet. + </p> + <p> + “I know not how to express,” said Etienne, addressing his companion, “the + sensations that light, cast upon the water, excites in me. I have often + watched it streaming from the windows of that room,” he added, pointing + back to his mother’s chamber, “until it was extinguished.” + </p> + <p> + “Delicate as Gabrielle is,” said Beauvouloir, gaily, “she can come and + walk with us; the night is warm, and the air has no dampness. I will fetch + her; but be prudent, monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne was too timid to propose to accompany Beauvouloir into the house; + besides, he was in that torpid state into which we are plunged by the + influx of ideas and sensations which give birth to the dawn of passion. + Conscious of more freedom in being alone, he cried out, looking at the sea + now gleaming in the moonlight,— + </p> + <p> + “The Ocean has passed into my soul!” + </p> + <p> + The sight of the lovely living statuette which was now advancing towards + him, silvered by the moon and wrapped in its light, redoubled the + palpitations of his heart, but without causing him to suffer. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said Beauvouloir, “this is monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment poor Etienne longed for his father’s colossal figure; he would + fain have seemed strong, not puny. All the vanities of love and manhood + came into his heart like so many arrows, and he remained in gloomy + silence, measuring for the first time the extent of his imperfections. + Embarrassed by the salutation of the young girl, he returned it awkwardly, + and stayed beside Beauvouloir, with whom he talked as they paced along the + shore; presently, however, Gabrielle’s timid and deprecating countenance + emboldened him, and he dared to address her. The incident of the song was + the result of mere chance. Beauvouloir had intentionally made no + preparations; he thought, wisely, that between two beings in whom solitude + had left pure hearts, love would arise in all its simplicity. The + repetition of the air by Gabrielle was a ready text on which to begin a + conversation. + </p> + <p> + During this promenade Etienne was conscious of that bodily buoyancy which + all men have felt at the moment when a first love transports their vital + principle into another being. He offered to teach Gabrielle to sing. The + poor lad was so glad to show himself to this young girl invested with some + slight superiority that he trembled with pleasure when she accepted his + offer. At that moment the moonlight fell full upon her, and enabled + Etienne to note the points of her resemblance to his mother, the late + duchess. Like Jeanne de Saint-Savin, Beauvouloir’s daughter was slender + and delicate; in her, as in the duchess, sadness and suffering conveyed a + mysterious charm. She had that nobility of manner peculiar to souls on + whom the ways of the world have had no influence, and in whom all is noble + because all is natural. But in Gabrielle’s veins there was also the blood + of “la belle Romaine,” which had flowed there from two generations, giving + to this young girl the passionate heart of a courtesan in an absolutely + pure soul; hence the enthusiasm that sometimes reddened her cheek, + sanctified her brow, and made her exhale her soul like a flash of light, + and communicated the sparkle of flame to all her motions. Beauvouloir + shuddered when he noticed this phenomenon, which we may call in these days + the phosphorescence of thought; the old physician of that period regarded + it as the precursor of death. + </p> + <p> + Hidden beside her father, Gabrielle endeavored to see Etienne at her ease, + and her looks expressed as much curiosity as pleasure, as much kindliness + as innocent daring. Etienne detected her in stretching her neck around + Beauvouloir with the movement of a timid bird looking out of its nest. To + her the young man seemed not feeble, but delicate; she found him so like + herself that nothing alarmed her in this sovereign lord. Etienne’s sickly + complexion, his beautiful hands, his languid smile, his hair parted in the + middle into two straight bands, ending in curls on the lace of his large + flat collar, his noble brow, furrowed with youthful wrinkles,—all + these contrasts of luxury and weakness, power and pettiness, pleased her; + perhaps they gratified the instinct of maternal protection, which is the + germ of love; perhaps, also, they stimulated the need that every woman + feels to find distinctive signs in the man she is prompted to love. New + ideas, new sensations were rising in each with a force, with an abundance + that enlarged their souls; both remained silent and overcome, for + sentiments are least demonstrative when most real and deep. All durable + love begins by dreamy meditation. It was suitable that these two beings + should first see each other in the softer light of the moon, that love and + its splendors might not dazzle them too suddenly; it was well that they + met by the shores of the Ocean,—vast image of the vastness of their + feelings. They parted filled with one another, fearing, each, to have + failed to please. + </p> + <p> + From his window Etienne watched the lights of the house where Gabrielle + was. During that hour of hope mingled with fear, the young poet found + fresh meanings in Petrarch’s sonnets. He had now seen Laura, a delicate, + delightful figure, pure and glowing like a sunray, intelligent as an + angel, feeble as a woman. His twenty years of study found their meaning, + he understood the mystic marriage of all beauties; he perceived how much + of womanhood there was in the poems he adored; in short, he had so long + loved unconsciously that his whole past now blended with the emotions of + this glorious night. Gabrielle’s resemblance to his mother seemed to him + an order divinely given. He did not betray his love for the one in loving + the other; this new love continued HER maternity. He contemplated that + young girl, asleep in the cottage, with the same feelings his mother had + felt for him when he was there. Here, again, was a similitude which bound + this present to the past. On the clouds of memory the saddened face of his + mother appeared to him; he saw once more her feeble smile, he heard her + gentle voice; she bowed her head and wept. The lights in the cottage were + extinguished. Etienne sang once more the pretty canzonet, with a new + expression, a new meaning. From afar Gabrielle again replied. The young + girl, too, was making her first voyage into the charmed land of amorous + ecstasy. That echoed answer filled with joy the young man’s heart; the + blood flowing in his veins gave him a strength he never yet had felt, love + made him powerful. Feeble beings alone know the voluptuous joy of that new + creation entering their life. The poor, the suffering, the ill-used, have + joys ineffable; small things to them are worlds. Etienne was bound by many + a tie to the dwellers in the City of Sorrows. His recent accession to + grandeur had caused him terror only; love now shed within him the balm + that created strength; he loved Love. + </p> + <p> + The next day Etienne rose early to hasten to his old house, where + Gabrielle, stirred by curiosity and an impatience she did not acknowledge + to herself, had already curled her hair and put on her prettiest costume. + Both were full of the eager desire to see each other again,—mutually + fearing the results of the interview. As for Etienne, he had chosen his + finest lace, his best-embroidered mantle, his violet-velvet breeches; in + short, those handsome habiliments which we connect in all memoirs of the + time with the pallid face of Louis XIII., a face oppressed with pain in + the midst of grandeur, like that of Etienne. Clothes were certainly not + the only point of resemblance between the king and the subject. Many other + sensibilities were in Etienne as in Louis XIII.,—chastity, + melancholy, vague but real sufferings, chivalrous timidities, the fear of + not being able to express a feeling in all its purity, the dread of too + quickly approaching happiness, which all great souls desire to delay, the + sense of the burden of power, that tendency to obedience which is found in + natures indifferent to material interests, but full of love for what a + noble religious genius has called the “astral.” + </p> + <p> + Though wholly inexpert in the ways of the world, Gabrielle was conscious + that the daughter of a doctor, the humble inhabitant of Forcalier, was + cast at too great a distance from Monseigneur Etienne, Duc de Nivron and + heir to the house of Herouville, to allow them to be equal; she had as yet + no conception of the ennobling of love. The naive creature thought with no + ambition of a place where every other girl would have longed to seat + herself; she saw the obstacles only. Loving, without as yet knowing what + it was to love, she only felt herself distant from her pleasure, and + longed to get nearer to it, as a child longs for the golden grapes hanging + high above its head. To a girl whose emotions were stirred at the sight of + a flower, and who had unconsciously foreseen love in the chants of the + liturgy, how sweet and how strong must have been the feelings inspired in + her breast the previous night by the sight of the young seigneur’s + feebleness, which seemed to reassure her own. But during the night Etienne + had been magnified to her mind; she had made him a hope, a power; she had + placed him so high that now she despaired of ever reaching him. + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me to sometimes enter your domain?” asked the duke, + lowing his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Seeing Etienne so timid, so humble,—for he, on his part, had + magnified Beauvouloir’s daughter,—Gabrielle was embarrassed with the + sceptre he placed in her hands; and yet she was profoundly touched and + flattered by such submission. Women alone know what seduction the respect + of their master and lover has for them. Nevertheless, she feared to + deceive herself, and, curious like the first woman, she wanted to know + all. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you promised yesterday to teach me music,” she answered, hoping + that music might be made a pretext for their meetings. + </p> + <p> + If the poor child had known what Etienne’s life really was, she would have + spared him that doubt. To him his word was the echo of his mind, and + Gabrielle’s little speech caused him infinite pain. He had come with his + heart full, fearing some cloud upon his daylight, and he met a doubt. His + joy was extinguished; back into his desert he plunged, no longer finding + there the flowers with which he had embellished it. With that prescience + of sorrows which characterizes the angel charged to soften them—who + is, no doubt, the Charity of heaven—Gabrielle instantly divined the + pain she had caused. She was so vividly aware of her fault that she prayed + for the power of God to lay bare her soul to Etienne, for she knew the + cruel pang a reproach or a stern look was capable of causing; and she + artlessly betrayed to him these clouds as they rose in her soul,—the + golden swathings of her dawning love. One tear which escaped her eyes + turned Etienne’s pain to pleasure, and he inwardly accused himself of + tyranny. It was fortunate for both that in the very beginning of their + love they should thus come to know the diapason of their hearts; they + avoided henceforth a thousand shocks which might have wounded them. + </p> + <p> + Etienne, impatient to entrench himself behind an occupation, led Gabrielle + to a table before the little window at which he himself had suffered so + long, and where he was henceforth to admire a flower more dainty than all + he had hitherto studied. Then he opened a book over which they bent their + heads till their hair touched and mingled. + </p> + <p> + These two beings, so strong in heart, so weak in body, but embellished by + all the graces of suffering, were a touching sight. Gabrielle was ignorant + of coquetry; a look was given the instant it was asked for, the soft rays + from the eyes of each never ceasing to mingle, unless from modesty. The + young girl took the joy of telling Etienne what pleasure his voice gave + her as she listened to his song; she forgot the meaning of his words when + he explained to her the position of the notes or their value; she listened + to HIM, leaving melody for the instrument, the idea for the form; + ingenuous flattery! the first that true love meets. Gabrielle thought + Etienne handsome; she would have liked to stroke the velvet of his mantle, + to touch the lace of his broad collar. As for Etienne he was transformed + under the creative glance of those earnest eyes; they infused into his + being a fruitful sap, which sparkled in his eyes, shone on his brow, + remade him inwardly, so that he did not suffer from this new play of his + faculties; on the contrary they were strengthened by it. Happiness is the + mother’s milk of a new life. + </p> + <p> + As nothing came to distract them from each other, they stayed together not + only this day but all days; for they belonged to one another from the + first hour, passing the sceptre from one to the other and playing with + themselves as children play with life. Sitting, happy and content, upon + the golden sands, they told each other their past, painful for him, but + rich in dreams; dreamy for her, but full of painful pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I never had a mother,” said Gabrielle, “but my father has been good as + God himself.” + </p> + <p> + “I never had a father,” said the hated son, “but my mother was all of + heaven to me.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne related his youth, his love for his mother, his taste for flowers. + Gabrielle exclaimed at his last words. Questioned why, she blushed and + avoided answering; then when a shadow passed across that brow which death + seemed to graze with its pinion, across that visible soul where the young + man’s slightest emotions showed, she answered:— + </p> + <p> + “Because I too love flowers.” + </p> + <p> + To believe ourselves linked far back in the past by community of tastes, + is not that a declaration of love such as virgins know how to give? Love + desires to seem old; it is a coquetry of youth. + </p> + <p> + Etienne brought flowers on the morrow, ordering his people to find rare + ones, as his mother had done in earlier days for him. Who knows the depths + to which the roots of a feeling reach in the soul of a solitary being thus + returning to the traditions of mother-love in order to bestow upon a woman + the same caressing devotion with which his mother had charmed his life? To + him, what grandeur in these nothings wherein were blended his only two + affections. Flowers and music thus became the language of their love. + Gabrielle replied to Etienne’s gifts by nosegays of her own,—nosegays + which told the wise old doctor that his ignorant daughter already knew + enough. The material ignorance of these two lovers was like a dark + background on which the faintest lines of their all-spiritual intercourse + were traced with exquisite delicacy, like the red, pure outlines of + Etruscan figures. Their slightest words brought a flood of ideas, because + each was the fruit of their long meditations. Incapable of boldly looking + forward, each beginning seemed to them an end. Though absolutely free, + they were imprisoned in their own simplicity, which would have been + disheartening had either given a meaning to their confused desires. They + were poets and poem both. Music, the most sensual of arts for loving + souls, was the interpreter of their ideas; they took delight in repeating + the same harmony, letting their passion flow through those fine sheets of + sound in which their souls could vibrate without obstacle. + </p> + <p> + Many loves proceed through opposition; through struggles and + reconciliations, the vulgar struggle of mind and matter. But the first + wing-beat of true love sends it far beyond such struggles. Where all is of + the same essence, two natures are no longer to be distinguished; like + genius in its highest expression, such love can sustain itself in the + brightest light; it grows beneath the light, it needs no shade to bring it + into relief. Gabrielle, because she was a woman, Etienne, because he had + suffered much and meditated much, passed quickly through the regions + occupied by common passions and went beyond it. Like all enfeebled + natures, they were quickly penetrated by Faith, by that celestial glow + which doubles strength by doubling the soul. For them their sun was always + at its meridian. Soon they had that divine belief in themselves which + allows of neither jealousy nor torment; abnegation was ever ready, + admiration constant. + </p> + <p> + Under these conditions, love could have no pain. Equal in their + feebleness, strong in their union, if the noble had some superiority of + knowledge and some conventional grandeur, the daughter of the physician + eclipsed all that by her beauty, by the loftiness of her sentiments, by + the delicacy she gave to their enjoyments. Thus these two white doves flew + with one wing beneath their pure blue heaven; Etienne loved, he was loved, + the present was serene, the future cloudless; he was sovereign lord; the + castle was his, the sea belonged to both of them; no vexing thought + troubled the harmonious concert of their canticle; virginity of mind and + senses enlarged for them the world, their thoughts rose in their minds + without effort; desire, the satisfactions of which are doomed to blast so + much, desire, that evil of terrestrial love, had not as yet attacked them. + Like two zephyrs swaying on the same willow-branch, they needed nothing + more than the joy of looking at each other in the mirror of the limpid + waters; immensity sufficed them; they admired their Ocean, without one + thought of gliding on it in the white-winged bark with ropes of flowers, + sailed by Hope. + </p> + <p> + Love has its moment when it suffices to itself, when it is happy in merely + being. During this springtime, when all is budding, the lover sometimes + hides from the beloved woman, in order to enjoy her more, to see her + better; but Etienne and Gabrielle plunged together into all the delights + of that infantine period. Sometimes they were two sisters in the grace of + their confidences, sometimes two brothers in the boldness of their + questionings. Usually love demands a slave and a god, but these two + realized the dream of Plato,—they were but one being deified. They + protected each other. Caresses came slowly, one by one, but chaste as the + merry play—so graceful, so coquettish—of young animals. The + sentiment which induced them to express their souls in song led them to + love by the manifold transformations of the same happiness. Their joys + caused them neither wakefulness nor delirium. It was the infancy of + pleasure developing within them, unaware of the beautiful red flowers + which were to crown its shoots. They gave themselves to each other, + ignorant of all danger; they cast their whole being into a word, into a + look, into a kiss, into the long, long pressure of their clasping hands. + They praised each other’s beauties ingenuously, spending treasures of + language on these secret idylls, inventing soft exaggerations and more + diminutives than the ancient muse of Tibullus, or the poesies of Italy. On + their lips and in their hearts love flowed ever, like the liquid fringes + of the sea upon the sands of the shore,—all alike, all dissimilar. + Joyous, eternal fidelity! + </p> + <p> + If we must count by days, the time thus spent was five months only; if we + may count by the innumerable sensations, thoughts, dreams, glances, + opening flowers, realized hopes, unceasing joys, speeches interrupted, + renewed, abandoned, frolic laughter, bare feet dabbling in the sea, hunts, + childlike, for shells, kisses, surprises, clasping hands,—call it a + lifetime; death will justify the word. There are existences that are ever + gloomy, lived under ashen skies; but suppose a glorious day, when the sun + of heaven glows in the azure air,—such was the May of their love, + during which Etienne had suspended all his griefs,—griefs which had + passed into the heart of Gabrielle, who, in turn, had fastened all her + joys to come on those of her lord. Etienne had had but one sorrow in his + life,—the death of his mother; he was to have but one love—Gabrielle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE CRUSHED PEARL + </h2> + <p> + The coarse rivalry of an ambitious man hastened the destruction of this + honeyed life. The Duc d’Herouville, an old warrior in wiles and policy, + had no sooner passed his word to his physician than he was conscious of + the voice of distrust. The Baron d’Artagnon, lieutenant of his company of + men-at-arms, possessed his utmost confidence. The baron was a man after + the duke’s own heart,—a species of butcher, built for strength, + tall, virile in face, cold and harsh, brave in the service of the throne, + rude in his manners, with an iron will in action, but supple in + manoeuvres, withal an ambitious noble, possessing the honor of a soldier + and the wiles of a politician. He had the hand his face demanded,—large + and hairy like that of a guerrilla; his manners were brusque, his speech + concise. The duke, in departing, gave to this man the duty of watching and + reporting to him the conduct of Beauvouloir toward the new + heir-presumptive. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the secrecy which surrounded Gabrielle, it was difficult to + long deceive the commander of a company. He heard the singing of two + voices; he saw the lights at night in the dwelling on the seashore; he + guessed that Etienne’s orders, repeated constantly, for flowers concerned + a woman; he discovered Gabrielle’s nurse making her way on foot to + Forcalier, carrying linen or clothes, and bringing back with her the + work-frame and other articles needed by a young lady. The spy then watched + the cottage, saw the physician’s daughter, and fell in love with her. + Beauvouloir he knew was rich. The duke would be furious at the man’s + audacity. On those foundations the Baron d’Artagnon erected the edifice of + his fortunes. The duke, on learning that his son was falling in love, + would, of course, instantly endeavor to detach him from the girl; what + better way than to force her son into a marriage with a noble like + himself, giving his son to the daughter of some great house, the heiress + of large estates. The baron himself had no property. The scheme was + excellent, and might have succeeded with other natures than those of + Etienne and Gabrielle; with them failure was certain. + </p> + <p> + During his stay in Paris the duke had avenged the death of Maximilien by + killing his son’s adversary, and he had planned for Etienne an alliance + with the heiress of a branch of the house of Grandlieu,—a tall and + disdainful beauty, who was flattered by the prospect of some day bearing + the title of Duchesse d’Herouville. The duke expected to oblige his son to + marry her. On learning from d’Artagnon that Etienne was in love with the + daughter of a miserable physician, he was only the more determined to + carry out the marriage. What could such a man comprehend of love,—he + who had let his own wife die beside him without understanding a single + sigh of her heart? Never, perhaps, in his life had he felt such violent + anger as when the last despatch of the baron told him with what rapidity + Beauvouloir’s plans were advancing,—the baron attributing them + wholly to the bonesetter’s ambition. The duke ordered out his equipages + and started for Rouen, bringing with him the Comtesse de Grandlieu, her + sister the Marquise de Noirmoutier, and Mademoiselle de Grandlieu, under + pretext of showing them the province of Normandy. + </p> + <p> + A few days before his arrival a rumor was spread about the country—by + what means no one seemed to know—of the passion of the young Duc de + Nivron for Gabrielle Beauvouloir. People in Rouen spoke of it to the Duc + d’Herouville in the midst of a banquet given to celebrate his return to + the province; for the guests were glad to deliver a blow to the despot of + Normandy. This announcement excited the anger of the governor to the + highest pitch. He wrote to the baron to keep his coming to Herouville a + close secret, giving him certain orders to avert what he considered to be + an evil. + </p> + <p> + It was under these circumstances that Etienne and Gabrielle unrolled their + thread through the labyrinth of love, where both, not seeking to leave it, + thought to dwell. One day they had remained from morn to evening near the + window where so many events had taken place. The hours, filled at first + with gentle talk, had ended in meditative silence. They began to feel + within them the wish for complete possession; and presently they reached + the point of confiding to each other their confused ideas, the reflections + of two beautiful, pure souls. During these still, serene hours, Etienne’s + eyes would sometimes fill with tears as he held the hand of Gabrielle to + his lips. Like his mother, but at this moment happier in his love than she + had been in hers, the hated son looked down upon the sea, at that hour + golden on the shore, black on the horizon, and slashed here and there with + those silvery caps which betoken a coming storm. Gabrielle, conforming to + her friend’s action, looked at the sight and was silent. A single look, + one of those by which two souls support each other, sufficed to + communicate their thoughts. Each loved with that love so divinely like + unto itself at every instant of its eternity that it is not conscious of + devotion or sacrifice or exaction, it fears neither deceptions nor delay. + But Etienne and Gabrielle were in absolute ignorance of satisfactions, a + desire for which was stirring in their souls. + </p> + <p> + When the first faint tints of twilight drew a veil athwart the sea, and + the hush was interrupted only by the soughing of the flux and reflux on + the shore, Etienne rose; Gabrielle followed his motion with a vague fear, + for he had dropped her hand. He took her in one of his arms, pressing her + to him with a movement of tender cohesion, and she, comprehending his + desire, made him feel the weight of her body enough to give him the + certainty that she was all his, but not enough to be a burden on him. The + lover laid his head heavily on the shoulder of his friend, his lips + touched the heaving bosom, his hair flowed over the white shoulders and + caressed her throat. The girl, ingenuously loving, bent her head aside to + give more place for his head, passing her arm about his neck to gain + support. Thus they remained till nightfall without uttering a word. The + crickets sang in their holes, and the lovers listened to that music as if + to employ their senses on one sense only. Certainly they could only in + that hour be compared to angels who, with their feet on earth, await the + moment to take flight to heaven. They had fulfilled the noble dream of + Plato’s mystic genius, the dream of all who seek a meaning in humanity; + they formed but one soul, they were, indeed, that mysterious Pearl + destined to adorn the brow of a star as yet unknown, but the hope of all! + </p> + <p> + “Will you take me home?” said Gabrielle, the first to break the exquisite + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Why should we part?” replied Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to be together always,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Stay with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + The heavy step of Beauvouloir sounded in the adjoining room. The doctor + had seen these children at the window locked in each other’s arms, but he + found them separated. The purest love demands its mystery. + </p> + <p> + “This is not right, my child,” he said to Gabrielle, “to stay so late, and + have no lights.” + </p> + <p> + “Why wrong?” she said; “you know we love each other, and he is master of + the castle.” + </p> + <p> + “My children,” said Beauvouloir, “if you love each other, your happiness + requires that you should marry and pass your lives together; but your + marriage depends on the will of monseigneur the duke—” + </p> + <p> + “My father has promised to gratify all my wishes,” cried Etienne eagerly, + interrupting Beauvouloir. + </p> + <p> + “Write to him, monseigneur,” replied the doctor, “and give me your letter + that I may enclose it with one which I, myself, have just written. + Bertrand is to start at once and put these despatches into monseigneur’s + own hand. I have learned to-night that he is now in Rouen; he has brought + the heiress of the house of Grandlieu with him, not, as I think, solely + for himself. If I listened to my presentiments, I should take Gabrielle + away from here this very night.” + </p> + <p> + “Separate us?” cried Etienne, half fainting with distress and leaning on + his love. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” + </p> + <p> + “Gabrielle,” said the physician, holding out to her a smelling-bottle + which he took from a table signing to her to make Etienne inhale its + contents,—“Gabrielle, my knowledge of science tells me that Nature + destined you for each other. I meant to prepare monseigneur the duke for a + marriage which will certainly offend his ideas, but the devil has already + prejudiced him against it. Etienne is Duc de Nivron, and you, my child, + are the daughter of a poor doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “My father swore to contradict me in nothing,” said Etienne, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “He swore to me also to consent to all I might do in finding you a wife,” + replied the doctor; “but suppose that he does not keep his promises?” + </p> + <p> + Etienne sat down, as if overcome. + </p> + <p> + “The sea was dark to-night,” he said, after a moment’s silence. + </p> + <p> + “If you could ride a horse, monseigneur,” said Beauvouloir, “I should tell + you to fly with Gabrielle this very evening. I know you both, and I know + that any other marriage would be fatal to you. The duke would certainly + fling me into a dungeon and leave me there for the rest of my days when he + heard of your flight; and I should die joyfully if my death secured your + happiness. But alas! to mount a horse would risk your life and that of + Gabrielle. We must face your father’s anger here.” + </p> + <p> + “Here!” repeated Etienne. + </p> + <p> + “We have been betrayed by some one in the chateau who has stirred your + father’s wrath against us,” continued Beauvouloir. + </p> + <p> + “Let us throw ourselves together into the sea,” said Etienne to Gabrielle, + leaning down to the ear of the young girl who was kneeling beside him. + </p> + <p> + She bowed her head, smiling. Beauvouloir divined all. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he said, “your mind and your knowledge can make you + eloquent, and the force of your love may be irresistible. Declare it to + monseigneur the duke; you will thus confirm my letter. All is not lost, I + think. I love my daughter as well as you love her, and I shall defend + her.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “The sea was very dark to-night,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “It was like a sheet of gold at our feet,” said Gabrielle in a voice of + melody. + </p> + <p> + Etienne ordered lights, and sat down at a table to write to his father. On + one side of him knelt Gabrielle, silent, watching the words he wrote, but + not reading them; she read all on Etienne’s forehead. On his other side + stood old Beauvouloir, whose jovial countenance was deeply sad,—sad + as that gloomy chamber where Etienne’s mother died. A secret voice cried + to the doctor, “The fate of his mother awaits him!” + </p> + <p> + When the letter was written, Etienne held it out to the old man, who + hastened to give it to Bertrand. The old retainer’s horse was waiting in + the courtyard, saddled; the man himself was ready. He started, and met the + duke twelve miles from Herouville. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me to the gate of the courtyard,” said Gabrielle to her friend + when they were alone. + </p> + <p> + The pair passed through the cardinal’s library, and went down through the + tower, in which was a door, the key of which Etienne had given to + Gabrielle. Stupefied by the dread of coming evil, the poor youth left in + the tower the torch he had brought to light the steps of his beloved, and + continued with her toward the cottage. A few steps from the little garden, + which formed a sort of flowery courtyard to the humble habitation, the + lovers stopped. Emboldened by the vague alarm which oppressed them, they + gave each other, in the shades of night, in the silence, that first kiss + in which the senses and the soul unite, and cause a revealing joy. Etienne + comprehended love in its dual expression, and Gabrielle fled lest she + should be drawn by that love—whither she knew not. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when the Duc de Nivron reascended the staircase to the + castle, after closing the door of the tower, a cry of horror, uttered by + Gabrielle, echoed in his ears with the sharpness of a flash of lightning + which burns the eyes. Etienne ran through the apartments of the chateau, + down the grand staircase, and along the beach towards Gabrielle’s house, + where he saw lights. + </p> + <p> + When Gabrielle, quitting her lover, had entered the little garden, she + saw, by the gleam of a torch which lighted her nurse’s spinning-wheel, the + figure of a man sitting in the chair of that excellent woman. At the sound + of her steps the man arose and came toward her; this had frightened her, + and she gave the cry. The presence and aspect of the Baron d’Artagnon + amply justified the fear thus inspired in the young girl’s breast. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the daughter of Beauvouloir, monseigneur’s physician?” asked the + baron when Gabrielle’s first alarm had subsided. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I have matters of the utmost importance to confide to you. I am the Baron + d’Artagnon, lieutenant of the company of men-at-arms commanded by + Monseigneur the Duc d’Herouville.” + </p> + <p> + Gabrielle, under the circumstances in which she and her lover stood, was + struck by these words, and by the frank tone with which the soldier said + them. + </p> + <p> + “Your nurse is here; she may overhear us. Come this way,” said the baron. + </p> + <p> + He left the garden, and Gabrielle followed him to the beach behind the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing!” said the baron. + </p> + <p> + That speech would have frightened any one less ignorant than Gabrielle; + but a simple young girl who loves never thinks herself in peril. + </p> + <p> + “Dear child,” said the baron, endeavoring to give a honeyed tone to his + voice, “you and your father are on the verge of an abyss into which you + will fall to-morrow. I cannot see your danger without warning you. + Monseigneur is furious against your father and against you; he suspects + you of having seduced his son, and he would rather see him dead than see + him marry you; so much for his son. As for your father, this is the + decision monseigneur has made about him. Nine years ago your father was + implicated in a criminal affair. The matter related to the secretion of a + child of rank at the time of its birth which he attended. Monseigneur, + knowing that your father was innocent, guaranteed him from prosecution by + the parliament; but now he intends to have him arrested and delivered up + to justice to be tried for the crime. Your father will be broken on the + wheel; though perhaps, in view of some services he has done to his master, + he may obtain the favor of being hanged. I do not know what course + monseigneur has decided on for you; but I do know that you can save + Monseigneur de Nivron from his father’s anger, and your father from the + horrible death which awaits him, and also save yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “What must I do?” said Gabrielle. + </p> + <p> + “Throw yourself at monseigneur’s feet, and tell him that his son loves you + against your will, and say that you do not love him. In proof of this, + offer to marry any man whom the duke himself may select as your husband. + He is generous; he will dower you handsomely.” + </p> + <p> + “I can do all except deny my love.” + </p> + <p> + “But if that alone can save your father, yourself, and Monseigneur de + Nivron?” + </p> + <p> + “Etienne,” she replied, “would die of it, and so should I.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur de Nivron will be unhappy at losing you, but he will live for + the honor of his house; you will resign yourself to be the wife of a baron + only, instead of being a duchess, and your father will live out his days,” + said the practical man. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Etienne reached the house. He did not see Gabrielle, and he + uttered a piercing cry. + </p> + <p> + “He is here!” cried the young girl; “let me go now and comfort him.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall come for your answer to-morrow,” said the baron. + </p> + <p> + “I will consult my father,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “You will not see him again. I have received orders to arrest him and send + him in chains, under escort, to Rouen,” said d’Artagnon, leaving Gabrielle + dumb with terror. + </p> + <p> + The young girl sprang to the house, and found Etienne horrified by the + silence of the nurse in answer to his question, “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “I am here!” cried the young girl, whose voice was icy, her step heavy, + her color gone. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” he said. “I heard you cry.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I hurt my foot against—” + </p> + <p> + “No, love,” replied Etienne, interrupting her. “I heard the steps of a + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Etienne, we must have offended God; let us kneel down and pray. I will + tell you afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Etienne and Gabrielle knelt down at the prie-dieu, and the nurse recited + her rosary. + </p> + <p> + “O God!” prayed the girl, with a fervor which carried her beyond + terrestrial space, “if we have not sinned against thy divine commandments, + if we have not offended the Church, not yet the king, we, who are one and + the same being, in whom love shines with the light that thou hast given to + the pearl of the sea, be merciful unto us, and let us not be parted either + in this world or in that which is to come.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” added Etienne, “who art in heaven, obtain from the Virgin that + if we cannot—Gabrielle and I—be happy here below we may at + least die together, and without suffering. Call us, and we will go to + thee.” + </p> + <p> + Then, having recited their evening prayers, Gabrielle related her + interview with Baron d’Artagnon. + </p> + <p> + “Gabrielle,” said the young man, gathering strength from his despair, “I + shall know how to resist my father.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her on the forehead, but not again upon the lips. Then he + returned to the castle, resolved to face the terrible man who had weighed + so fearfully on his life. He did not know that Gabrielle’s house would be + surrounded and guarded by soldiers the moment that he quitted it. + </p> + <p> + The next day he was struck down with grief when, on going to see her, he + found her a prisoner. But Gabrielle sent her nurse to tell him she would + die sooner than be false to him; and, moreover, that she knew a way to + deceive the guards, and would soon take refuge in the cardinal’s library, + where no one would suspect her presence, though she did not as yet know + when she could accomplish it. Etienne on that returned to his room, where + all the forces of his heart were spent in the dreadful suspense of + waiting. + </p> + <p> + At three o’clock on the afternoon of that day the equipages of the duke + and suite entered the courtyard of the castle. Madame la Comtesse de + Grandlieu, leaning on the arm of her daughter, the duke and Marquise de + Noirmoutier mounted the grand staircase in silence, for the stern brow of + the master had awed the servants. Though Baron d’Artagnon now knew that + Gabrielle had evaded his guards, he assured the duke she was a prisoner, + for he trembled lest his own private scheme should fail if the duke were + angered by this flight. Those two terrible faces—his and the duke’s—wore + a fierce expression that was ill-disguised by an air of gallantry imposed + by the occasion. The duke had already sent to his son, ordering him to be + present in the salon. When the company entered it, d’Artagnon saw by the + downcast look on Etienne’s face that as yet he did not know of Gabrielle’s + escape. + </p> + <p> + “This is my son,” said the old duke, taking Etienne by the hand and + presenting him to the ladies. + </p> + <p> + Etienne bowed without uttering a word. The countess and Mademoiselle de + Grandlieu exchanged a look which the old man intercepted. + </p> + <p> + “Your daughter will be ill-matched—is that your thought?” he said in + a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “I think quite the contrary, my dear duke,” replied the mother, smiling. + </p> + <p> + The Marquise de Noirmoutier, who accompanied her sister, laughed + significantly. That laugh stabbed Etienne to the heart; already the sight + of the tall lady had terrified him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monsieur le duc,” said the duke in a low voice and assuming a + lively air, “have I not found you a handsome wife? What do you say to that + slip of a girl, my cherub?” + </p> + <p> + The old duke never doubted his son’s obedience; Etienne, to him, was the + son of his mother, of the same dough, docile to his kneading. + </p> + <p> + “Let him have a child and die,” thought the old man; “little I care.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said the young man, in a gentle voice, “I do not understand + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come into your own room, I have a few words to say to you,” replied the + duke, leading the way into the state bedroom. + </p> + <p> + Etienne followed his father. The three ladies, stirred with a curiosity + that was shared by Baron d’Artagnon, walked about the great salon in a + manner to group themselves finally near the door of the bedroom, which the + duke had left partially open. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Benjamin,” said the duke, softening his voice, “I have selected that + tall and handsome young lady as your wife; she is heiress to the estates + of the younger branch of the house of Grandlieu, a fine old family of + Bretagne. Therefore make yourself agreeable; remember all the love-making + you have read of in your books, and learn to make pretty speeches.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, is it not the first duty of a nobleman to keep his word?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, on the day when I forgave you the death of my mother, dying + here through her marriage with you, did you not promise me never to thwart + my wishes? ‘I will obey you as the family god,’ were the words you said to + me. I ask nothing of you, I simply demand my freedom in a matter which + concerns my life and myself only,—namely, my marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “I understood,” replied the old man, all the blood in his body rushing + into his face, “that you would not oppose the continuation of our noble + race.” + </p> + <p> + “You made no condition,” said Etienne. “I do not know what love has to do + with race; but this I know, I love the daughter of your old friend + Beauvouloir, and the granddaughter of your friend La Belle Romaine.” + </p> + <p> + “She is dead,” replied the old colossus, with an air both savage and + jeering, which told only too plainly his intention of making away with + her. + </p> + <p> + A moment of deep silence followed. + </p> + <p> + The duke saw, through the half-opened door, the three ladies and + d’Artagnon. At that crucial moment Etienne, whose sense of hearing was + acute, heard in the cardinal’s library poor Gabrielle’s voice, singing, to + let her lover know she was there,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ermine hath not + Her pureness; + The lily not her whiteness.” + </pre> + <p> + The hated son, whom his father’s horrible speech had flung into a gulf of + death, returned to the surface of life at the sound of that voice. Though + the emotion of terror thus rapidly cast off had already in that instant, + broken his heart, he gathered up his strength, looked his father in the + face for the first time in his life, gave scorn for scorn, and said, in + tones of hatred:— + </p> + <p> + “A nobleman ought not to lie.” + </p> + <p> + Then with one bound he sprang to the door of the library and cried:— + </p> + <p> + “Gabrielle!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the gentle creature appeared among the shadows, like the lily + among its leaves, trembling before those mocking women thus informed of + Etienne’s love. As the clouds that bear the thunder project upon the + heavens, so the old duke, reaching a degree of anger that defies + description, stood out upon the brilliant background produced by the rich + clothing of those courtly dames. Between the destruction of his son and a + mesalliance, every other father would have hesitated, but in this + uncontrollable old man ferocity was the power which had so far solved the + difficulties of life for him; he drew his sword in all cases, as the only + remedy that he knew for the gordian knots of life. Under present + circumstances, when the convulsion of his ideas had reached its height, + the nature of the man came uppermost. Twice detected in flagrant falsehood + by the being he abhorred, the son he cursed, cursing him more than ever in + this supreme moment when that son’s despised, and to him most despicable, + weakness triumphed over his own omnipotence, infallible till then, the + father and the man ceased to exist, the tiger issued from its lair. + Casting at the angels before him—the sweetest pair that ever set + their feet on earth—a murderous look of hatred,— + </p> + <p> + “Die, then, both of you!” he cried. “You, vile abortion, the proof of my + shame—and you,” he said to Gabrielle, “miserable strumpet with the + viper tongue, who has poisoned my house.” + </p> + <p> + These words struck home to the hearts of the two children the terror that + already surcharged them. At the moment when Etienne saw the huge hand of + his father raising a weapon upon Gabrielle he died, and Gabrielle fell + dead in striving to retain him. + </p> + <p> + The old man left them, and closed the door violently, saying to + Mademoiselle de Grandlieu:— + </p> + <p> + “I will marry you myself!” + </p> + <p> + “You are young and gallant enough to have a fine new lineage,” whispered + the countess in the ear of the old man, who had served under seven kings + of France. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1455 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |