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diff --git a/2470-h/2470-h.htm b/2470-h/2470-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6de715e --- /dev/null +++ b/2470-h/2470-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9159 @@ +<?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> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Samuel Brohl and Company, by Victor Cherbuliez + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Samuel Brohl & Company, by Victor Cherbuliez + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Samuel Brohl & Company + +Author: Victor Cherbuliez + +Release Date: March 28, 2006 [EBook #2470] +Last Updated: November 3, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMUEL BROHL & COMPANY *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SAMUEL BROHL & COMPANY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Victor Cherbuliez + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + Were the events of this nether sphere governed by the calculus of + probabilities, Count Abel Larinski and Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz would + almost unquestionably have arrived at the end of their respective careers + without ever having met. Count Larinski lived in Vienna, Austria; Mlle. + Moriaz never had been farther from Paris than Cormeilles, where she went + every spring to remain throughout the fine weather. Neither at Cormeilles + nor at Paris had she ever heard of Count Larinski; and he, on his part, + was wholly unaware of the existence of Mlle. Moriaz. His mind was occupied + with a gun of his own invention, which should have made his fortune, and + which had not made it. He had hoped that this warlike weapon, a true <i>chef-d’oeuvre</i>, + in his opinion superior in precision and range to any other known, would + be appreciated, according to its merits, by competent judges, and would + one day be adopted for the equipment of the entire Austro-Hungarian + infantry. By means of unremitting perseverance, he had succeeded in + obtaining the appointment of an official commission to examine it. The + commission decided that the Larinski musket possessed certain advantages, + but that it had three defects: it was too heavy, the breech became choked + too rapidly with oil from the lubricator, and the cost of manufacture was + too high. Count Abel did not lose courage. He gave himself up to study, + devoted nearly two years to perfecting his invention, and applied all his + increased skill to rendering his gun lighter and less costly. When put + under test, the new firearm burst, and this vexatious incident ruined + forever the reputation of the Larinski gun. Far from becoming enriched, + the inventor had sunk his expenses, his advances of every kind; he had + recklessly squandered both revenue and capital, which, to be sure, was not + very considerable. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz had a more fortunate destiny than Count Larinski. + She did not plume herself on having invented a new gun, nor did she depend + upon her ingenuity for a livelihood; she had inherited from her mother a + yearly income of about a hundred thousand livres, which enabled her to + enjoy life and make others happy, for she was very charitable. She loved + the world without loving it too much; she knew how to do without it, + having abundant resources within herself, and being of a very independent + disposition. During the winter she went out a great deal into society, and + received freely at home. Her father, member of the Institute and Professor + of Chemistry at the College of France, was one of those <i>savants</i> who + enjoy dining out; he had a taste also for music and for the theatre. + Antoinette accompanied him everywhere; they scarcely ever remained at home + except upon their reception evenings; but with the return of the swallows + it was a pleasure to Mlle. Moriaz to fly to Cormeilles and there pass + seven months, reduced to the society of Mlle. Moiseney, who, after having + been her instructress, had become her <i>demoiselle de compagnie</i>. She + lived pretty much in the open air, walking about in the woods, reading, or + painting; and the woods, her books, and her paint-brushes, to say nothing + of her poor people, so agreeably occupied her time that she never + experienced a quarter of an hour’s <i>ennui</i>. She was too content with + her lot to have the slightest inclination to change it; therefore she was + in no hurry to marry. She had completed twenty-four years of her + existence, had refused several desirable offers, and wished nothing better + than to retain her maidenhood. It was the sole article concerning which + this heiress had discussions with those around her. When her father took + it into his head to grow angry and cry, “You must!” she would burst out + laughing; whereupon he would laugh also, and say: “I’m not the master + here; in fact, I am placed in the position of a ploughman arguing with a + priest.” + </p> + <p> + It is very dangerous to tax one’s brains too much when one dines out + frequently. During the winter of 1875, M. Moriaz had undertaken an excess + of work; he was overdriven, and his health suffered. He was attacked by + one of those anemic disorders of which we hear so much nowadays, and which + may be called <i>la maladie a la mode</i>. He was obliged to break in upon + his daily routine, employ an assistant, and early in July his physician + ordered him to set out for Engadine, and try the chalybeate water-cure at + Saint Moritz. The trip from Paris to Saint Moritz cannot be made without + passing through Chur. It was at Chur that Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz, who + accompanied her father, met for the first time Count Abel Larinski. When + the decree of Destiny goes forth, the spider and the fly must inevitably + meet. + </p> + <p> + Abel Larinski had arrived at Chur from Vienna, having taken the route + through Milan and across the Splugen Pass. Although he was very short of + funds, upon reaching the capital of the canton of Grisons he had put up at + the Hotel Steinbock, the best and most expensive in the place. It was his + opinion that he owed this mark of respect to Count Larinski; such duties + he held to be very sacred, and he fulfilled them religiously. He was in a + very melancholy mood, and set out for a promenade in order to divert his + mind. In crossing the Plessur Bridge, he fixed his troubled eyes on the + muddy waters of the stream, and he felt almost tempted to take the fatal + leap; but in such a project there is considerable distance between the + dream and its fulfilment, and Count Larinski experienced at this juncture + that the most melancholy man in the world may find it difficult to conquer + his passion for living. + </p> + <p> + He had no reason to feel very cheerful. He had quitted Vienna in order to + betake himself to the Saxon Casino, where <i>roulette</i> and <i>trente-et-quarante</i> + are played. His ill-luck would have it that he stopped on the way at + Milan, and fell in with a circle of ill repute, where this most imprudent + of men played and lost. There remained to him just enough cash to carry + him to Saxon; but what can be accomplished in a casino when one has empty + pockets? Before crossing the Splugen he had written to a petty Jew banker + of his acquaintance for money. He counted but little on the compliance of + this Hebrew, and this was why he paused five minutes to contemplate the + Plessur, after which he retraced his steps. Twenty minutes later he was + crossing a public square, ornamented with a pretty Gothic fountain, and + seeing before him a cathedral, he hastened to enter it. + </p> + <p> + The cathedral of Chur possesses, among other curiosities, a painting by + Albert Durer, a St. Lawrence on the gridiron, attributed to Holbein, a + piece of the true cross, and some relics of St. Lucius and his sister + Ernesta. Count Abel only accorded a wandering attention to either St. + Lucius or St. Lawrence. Scarcely had he made his way into the nave of the + building, when he beheld something that appeared to him far more + interesting than paintings or relics. An English poet has said that at + times there is revealed to us a glimpse of paradise in a woman’s face, and + it was such a rare blessing that was at this moment vouchsafed unto Count + Larinski. He was not a romantic man, and yet he remained for some moments + motionless, rooted to the spot in admiration. Was it a premonition of his + destiny? The fact is that, in beholding for the first time Mlle. + Antoinette Moriaz, for it was none other than she who thus riveted his + attention, he experienced an inexplicable surprise, a thrilling of the + heart, such as he never before had experienced. In his first impression of + this charming girl he made one slight mistake. He divined at once that the + man by whom she was accompanied, who had gray hair, a broad, open brow, + vivacious eyes, shaded by beautiful, heavy eye-brows, belonged to some + learned fraternity; but he imagined that this individual with a white + cravat, who had evidently preserved his freshness of heart, although past + sixty years of age, was the fortunate suitor of the beautiful girl by his + side. + </p> + <p> + There are some women whom it is impossible not to gaze upon. Wherever + Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz appeared she was the object of universal + observation: first, because she was charming; and, then, because she had a + way of her own of dressing and of arranging her hair, a peculiar movement + of the head, a grace of carriage, which inevitably must attract notice. + There were those who made so bold as to assert that she assumed certain + little peculiarities solely for the purpose of attracting the chance + observer. Do not believe a word of it. She was altogether indifferent to + public opinion and consulted her own taste alone, which was certainly + impregnated with a touch of audacity; but she did not seek to appear + audacious—she merely acted according to her natural bent. Observing + her from a distance, people were apt to fancy her affected, and somewhat + inclined to be fantastic; but on approaching her, their minds were + speedily disabused of this fancy. The purity of her countenance, her air + of refinement and thorough modesty, speedily dispelled any suspicious + thoughts, and those who had for a moment harboured them would say + mentally, “Pardon me, mademoiselle, I mistook.” Such, at least, was the + mental comment of Count Abel, as she passed close by him on leaving the + church. Her father was telling her something that made her smile; this + smile was that of a young girl just budding into womanhood, who has + nothing yet to conceal from her guardian angel. Count Larinski left the + church after her, and followed her with his eyes as she crossed the + square. On returning to the hotel he had a curiosity to satisfy. He + questioned one of the <i>garcons</i>, who pointed out to him in the hotel + register for travellers the following entry: “M. Moriaz, member of the + Institute of France, and his daughter, from Paris, <i>en route</i> for + Saint Moritz.” “And where then?” he asked himself; then dismissed the + subject from his mind. + </p> + <p> + When he had dined, he repaired to the post-office to inquire for a letter + he was expecting from Vienna. He found it, and returned to shut himself up + in his chamber, where he tore open the envelope with a feverish hand. This + letter, written in a more peculiar than felicitous French, was the reply + of the Jew banker. It read as follows: + </p> + <p> + “M. LE COMTE: + </p> + <p> + “Although you both write and understand German very well, you do not like + to read it, and therefore I write to you in French. It grieves me deeply + not to have it in my power to satisfy your honoured demand. Business is + very dull. It is impossible for me to advance you another florin, or even + to renew your note, which falls due shortly. I am the father of a family; + it pains me to be compelled to remind you of this. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to tell you quite freely what I think. I did believe in your gun, + but I believe in it no longer, no one believes in it any more. When + strong, it was too heavy; when you made it lighter, it was no longer + strong. What came next? You know it burst. Beware how you further perfect + it, or it will explode whenever it becomes aware that any one is looking + at it. This accursed gun has eaten up the little you had, and some of my + savings besides, although I have confidence that you will, at least, pay + me the interest due on that. It grieves me to tell you so, M. de Comte, + but all inventors are more or less crack-brained, and end in the hospital. + For the love of God, leave guns as they are, and invent nothing more, or + you will go overboard, and there will be no one to fish you out.” + </p> + <p> + Abel Larinski paused at this place. He put his letter down on the table, + and, turning round in his arm-chair, with a savage air, his eye fixed on a + distant corner of the room, he fell to thus soliloquizing in a sepulchral + voice: + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear, idiot? This old knave is right. Accursed be the day when the + genius of invention thrilled your sublime brain! A grand discovery you + have made, forsooth! What have I gained from it? Grand illusions, grand + discomfitures! What hath it availed me that I passed whole nights + discussing with you breech-loaders, screw-plates, tumbrels, sockets, + bridges, ovoid balls, and spring-locks? What fruits have I gained from + these refreshing conversations? You foresaw everything, my great man, + except that one little thing which great men so often fail to see, that + mysterious something, I know not what, which makes success. When you spoke + to me, in your slow, monotonous tones, when you fixed upon me your + melancholy gaze, I should have been able to read in your eyes that you + were only a fool. The devil take thee and thy gun, thy gun and thee; + hollow head, head full of chimeras, true Pole, true Larinski!” + </p> + <p> + To whom was Count Abel speaking? To a phantom? To his double? He alone + knew. When he had uttered the last words, he resumed the perusal of his + letter, which ended thus: + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me to give you a piece of advice, M. le Comte, a good + little piece of advice? I have known you for three years, and have taken + much interest in your welfare. You invent guns, which, when they are + strong, lack lightness. I beg your pardon, but I do not comprehend you, M. + le Comte. The name you bear is excellent; the head you carry on your + shoulders is superb, and it is the general opinion that you resemble <i>Faust</i>; + but neither name nor head does you any good. Leave the guns as they are, + and bestow your attention upon women; they, and they alone, can draw you + out of the deep waters where you are now floundering. There is no time to + lose. I beg your pardon, but you must be thirty years old, and perhaps a + little more. This <i>diable</i> of a gun has made you lose three valuable + years. + </p> + <p> + “It pains me, M. le Comte, to be compelled to remind you that the little + note falls due shortly. I have had the value of the bracelet you left with + me as a pledge estimated; it is not worth a thousand florins, as you + believed; it is a piece of antiquity that has a value to only those who + can indulge in a caprice for fancy articles, and such caprices are rare + nowadays, the time for such is past. + </p> + <p> + “I am, M. le Comte, with much respect, your humble and obedient servant, + </p> + <p> + “MOSES GULDENTHAL.” + </p> + <p> + Abel Larinski turned once more in his chair. He crumpled up between his + fingers the letter of M. Moses Guldenthal, saying to himself as he did so, + that the Guldenthals are often very clear-sighted folks. “Ay, to be sure,” + thought he, “this Hebrew is right, I have lost three valuable years. I + have had fever, and my eyes have been clouded; but, Heaven be praised! The + charm is broken, the illusion fled, I am cured—saved! Farewell, my + chimera, I am no longer thy dupe! Many thanks, my dear friend: I return to + you your gun; do with it as it seemeth best to you.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes suddenly fell on his own reflection in the mirror above the + chimney-piece, and he regarded it fixedly for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “The semblance truly of an inventor,” he resumed, mournfully smiling. + “This pale, emaciated face; these deep-set eyes, with dark circles about + them; these hollow, cadaverous cheeks! The three years have indeed left + their traces. Bah! a little rest in the Alpine pastures, and <i>Faust</i> + will become rejuvenated.” + </p> + <p> + He seized a pen, and wrote the following reply: + </p> + <p> + “You are truly kind, my dear Guldenthal: you refuse me the miserable + florins, but you give me in their stead a little piece of advice that is + worth a fortune. Unluckily, I am not capable of following it. Noble souls + like ours comprehend each other with half a word, and you are a poet + whenever it suits you. When in the course of the day you have transacted a + neat little piece of business, after having rubbed your hands until you + have almost deprived them of skin, you tune your violin, which you play + like an angel, and you draw from it such delightful strains that your + ledger and your cash-box fall to weeping with emotion. I, too, am a + musician, and my music is the fair sex. But, alas! women never can be for + me other than an adorable inutility, a part of the dream of my life. Your + dreams yield you a handsome percentage, as I have sorrowfully experienced; + my dreams yield me nothing, and therefore it is that they are dear to me. + </p> + <p> + “I must prohibit—understand me clearly—your disposing of the + trinket I left with you; we have the weakness, we Poles, of clinging to + our family relics. Set your mind at rest; before the end of the month I + shall have returned to Vienna, and will honour the dear little note. One + day you will go down on your knees to beg of me to loan you a thousand + florins, and I will astonish you with my ingratitude. May the God of + Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, have you in his holy keeping, my dear + Guldenthal!” + </p> + <p> + As he finished his letter, he heard the sound of harps and violins. Some + itinerant musicians were giving a concert in the hotel-garden, which was + lit up as bright as day. Abel opened his window, and leaned on his elbows, + looking out. The first object that presented itself to his eyes was Mlle. + Moriaz, promenading one of the long garden-walks, leaning on her father’s + arm. Many eyes were fixed on her—we have already said it was + difficult not to gaze upon her—but no one contemplated her with such + close attention as Count Larinski. He never once lost sight of her. + </p> + <p> + “Is she beautiful? Is she even pretty?” he queried within himself. “I + cannot quite make up my mind, but I am very sure that she is charming. + Like my bracelet, this is a fancy article. She is a little thin, and her + shoulders are too vigorously fashioned for her waist, which is slender and + supple as a reed; but, such as she is, she has not her equal. Her walk, + her carriage, resemble nothing I ever have seen before. I can well imagine + that when she appears in the streets of Paris people turn to look after + her, but no one would have the audacity to follow her. How old is she? + Twenty-four or twenty-five years, I should say. Why is she not married? + Who is this withered, pinched-looking fright of a personage who trots at + her side like a poodle-dog? Probably some <i>demoiselle de compagnie</i>. + And there comes her <i>femme de chambre</i>, a very spruce little lass, + bringing her a shawl, which the <i>demoiselle de compagnie</i> hastens to + put over her shoulders. She allows it to be done with the air of one who + is accustomed to being waited upon. Mlle. Moriaz is an heiress. Why, then, + is she not married?” + </p> + <p> + Count Larinski pursued his soliloquy as long as Mlle. Moriaz promenaded in + the garden. As soon as she re-entered the hotel, it appeared to him that + the garden had become empty, and that the musicians were playing out of + tune. He closed his window. He gave up his plan of starting the next day + for Saxon. He had decided that he would set out for Saint Moritz, to pass + there at least two or three days. He said to himself, “It seems absurd; + but who can tell?” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he proceeded to investigate the state of his finances, and he + weighed and re-weighed his purse, which was very light. Formerly Count + Larinski had possessed a very pretty collection of jewellery. He had + looked upon this as a reserve fund, to which he would have recourse only + in cases of extreme distress. Alas! there remained to him now only two + articles of his once considerable store—the bracelet that was in the + hands of M. Guldenthal, and a diamond ring that he wore on his finger. He + decided that, before quitting Chur, he would borrow money on this ring, or + that he would try to sell it. + </p> + <p> + He remained some time seated at the foot of his bed, dangling his legs to + and fro, his eyes closed. He had closed them, in order to better call up a + vision of Mlle. Moriaz, and he repeated the words: “It seems absurd; but + who can tell? The fact is, we can know nothing of a surety, and anything + may happen.” Then he recalled one of Goethe’s poems, entitled “Vanitas! + vanitatum vanitas!” and he recited several time in German these two lines: + </p> + <p> + “Nun hab’ ich mein’ Sach’ auf nichts gestellt, Und mein gehort die ganze + Welt!” + </p> + <p> + This literally signifies, “Now that I no longer count on anything, the + whole world is mine.” Abel Larinski recited these lines with a purity of + accent that would have astonished M. Moses Guldenthal. + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz, after wishing his daughter good-night, and imprinting a kiss + upon her brow, as was his custom, had retired to his chamber. He was + preparing for bed, when there came a knock at his door. Opening this, he + saw before him a fair-haired youth, who rushed eagerly towards him, seized + both his hands, and pressed them with effusion. M. Moriaz disengaged his + hands, and regarded the intruder with a bewildered air. + </p> + <p> + “How?” cried the latter. “You do not know me? So sure as you are one of + the most illustrious chemists of the day, I am Camille Langis, son of your + best friend, a young man of great expectations, who admires you truly, who + has followed you here, and who is now ready to begin all over again. + There, my dear master, do you recognise me?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, to be sure I recognise you, my boy,” replied M. Moriaz, “although, to + tell the truth, you have greatly changed. When you left us you were a mere + youth.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” + </p> + <p> + “And now you have the air of a young man; but, I beg of you, where have + you come from? I thought you were in the heart of Transylvania.” + </p> + <p> + “It is possible to return from there, as you see. Three days ago I arrived + in Paris and flew to Maisons-Lafitte. Mme. De Lorcy, who bears the double + insignia of honour of being my aunt and the godmother of Antoinette—I + beg your pardon, I mean Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz—informed me that you + were in ill-health, and that your physician had sent you to Switzerland, + to Saint Moritz, to recruit. I hastened after you; this morning I missed + you by one hour at Zurich; but I have you now, and you will listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I warn you, my dear child, that I am at this moment a most detestable + auditor. We have done to-day one <i>hotel de ville</i>, one episcopal + palace, one cathedral, and some relics of St. Lucius. To speak plainly, I + am overpowered with sleep. Is there any great haste for what you have to + say to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any great haste? Why, I arrive breathless from Hungary to demand + your daughter in marriage.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz threw up his arms; then, seating himself on the edge of his bed, + he piteously gasped: + </p> + <p> + “You could not wait until to-morrow? If a judge is desired to take a + favourable view of a case, he surely should not be disturbed in his first + sleep to consider it.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear master, I am truly distressed to be compelled to be disagreeable + to you, but it is absolutely necessary that you should listen to me. Two + years ago, for the first time, I asked of you your daughter’s hand. After + having consulted Antoinette—you will permit me to call her + Antoinette, will you not?—after having consulted her, you told me + that I was too young, that she would not listen seriously to my proposal, + and you gave me your permission to try again in two years. I have employed + these two mortal years in constructing a railroad and a wire bridge in + Hungary, and, believe me, I took infinite pains to forget Antoinette. In + vain! She is the romance of my youth, I never can have another. On July 5, + 1873, did you not tell me to return in two years? We are now at July 5, + 1875, and I return. Am I a punctual man?” + </p> + <p> + “As punctual as insupportable,” rejoined M. Moriaz, casting a melancholy + look at his pillow. “Now, candidly, is it the thing to seek the presence + of the President of the Academy of Sciences between eleven o’clock and + midnight, to pour such silly stuff into his ear? You are wanting in + respect for the Institute. Besides, my dear boy, people change in two + years; you are a proof of it. You have developed from boyhood almost into + manhood, and you have done well to let your imperial grow; it gives you + quite a dashing military air—one would divine at first sight that + you were fresh from Hungary. But, while you have changed for the better, + are you sure that Antoinette has not changed for the worse? Are you sure + that she is still the Antoinette of your romance?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon; I saw her just now, without her seeing me. She was + promenading on your arm in the hotel-garden, which was lit up in her + honour. Formerly she was enchanting, she has become adorable. If you would + have the immense goodness to give her to me, I would be capable of doing + anything agreeable to you. I would relieve you of all your little + troublesome jobs; I would clean your retorts; I would put labels on your + bottles and jars; I would sweep out your laboratory. I know German very + well—I would read all the large German books it might please you to + consult; I would read them, pen in hand; I would make extracts—written + extracts—and such extracts! <i>Grand Dieu!</i> they would be like + copperplate. My dear master, will you give her to me?” + </p> + <p> + “The absurd creature! He imagines that it only depends upon me to give him + my daughter. I could as easily dispose of the moon. Since she has had + teeth, she had made me desire everything she desires.” + </p> + <p> + “At least you will give me permission to pay my addresses to her + to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Beware, unlucky youth!” cried M. Moriaz. “You will ruin your case + forever. Since you have been away she has refused two offers, one of them + from a second secretary of legation, Viscount de R—-, and at the + present moment she holds in holy horror all suitors. She is accompanying + me to Saint Moritz in order to gather flowers and paint aquarelle sketches + of them. Should you presume to interrupt her in her favourite occupations, + should you present yourself before her like a creditor on the day of + maturity, I swear to you that your note would be protested, and that you + would have nothing better to do than return to Hungary.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of it?” + </p> + <p> + “As sure as that sulphuric acid will turn litmus red.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have the heart to sent me back to Paris without having spoken + with her?” + </p> + <p> + “What I have said is for your good, and you know whether I mean you well + or not.” + </p> + <p> + “It is agreed, then, that you will take charge of my interests; that you + will plead my cause?” + </p> + <p> + “It is understood that I will sound the premises, that I will prepare the + way—” + </p> + <p> + “And that you will send me tidings shortly, and that these tidings will be + good. I shall await them here, at the Hotel Steinbock.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please; but, for the love of Heaven, let me sleep!” + </p> + <p> + M. Camille Langis pressed his two arms and said, with much emotion: “I + place myself in your hands; take care how you answer for my life!” + </p> + <p> + “O youth!” murmured M. Moriaz, actually thrusting Camille from the room. + “One might search in vain for a more beautiful invention.” + </p> + <p> + Ten hours later, a post-chaise bore in the direction of Engadine Mlle. + Antoinette Moriaz, her father, her <i>demoiselle de compagnie</i>, and her + <i>femme de chambre</i>. They breakfasted tolerably well in a village + situated in the lower portion of a notch, called Tiefenkasten, which + means, literally, <i>deep chest</i>, and certainly a deeper never has been + seen. After breakfast they pursued their way farther, and towards four + o’clock in the afternoon they reached the entrance of the savage defile of + Bergunerstein, which deserves to be compared with that of Via Mala. The + road lies between a wall of rocks and a precipice of nearly two hundred + metres, at the bottom of which rush the swift waters of the Albula. This + wild scenery deeply moved Mlle. Moriaz; she never had seen anything like + it at Cormeilles or anywhere about Paris. She alighted, and, moving + towards the parapet, leaned over it, contemplating at her ease the depths + below, which the foaming torrent beneath filled with its roars. + </p> + <p> + Her father speedily joined her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not find this music charming?” she asked of him. + </p> + <p> + “Charming, I grant,” he replied; “but more charming still are those brave + workmen who, at the risk of their necks, have engineered such a suspended + highway as we see here. I think you admire the torrent too much, and the + road not enough.” And after a pause he added, “I wish that our friend + Camille Langis had had fewer dangers to contend with in constructing his.” + Antoinette turned quickly and looked at her father; then she bestowed her + attention once more upon the Albula. “To be sure,” resumed M. Moriaz, + stroking his whiskers with the head of his cane, “Camille is just the man + to make his way through difficulties. He has a youthful air that is very + deceptive, but he always has been astonishingly precocious. At twenty + years of age he became head of his class at the Central School; but the + best thing about him is that, although in possession of a fortune, yet he + has a passion for work. The rich man who works accepts voluntary poverty.” + </p> + <p> + There arose from the precipice a damp, chill breeze; Mlle. Moriaz drew + over her head a red hood that she held in her hand, and scraping off with + her finger some of the facing of the parapet, which glittered with scales + of mica, she asked: “What do you call this?” + </p> + <p> + “It is gneiss, a sort of sheet-granite; but do not you too admire people + who work when they are not compelled to do anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must admire yourself a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I! In my early youth I worked from necessity, and then I formed a + habit which I cannot now get rid of; while Camille Langis—” + </p> + <p> + “Once more?” she ejaculated, with a gesture of impatience. “What prompts + you to speak to me of Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I often think of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not let us two play at diplomacy. You have had news of him lately?” + </p> + <p> + “You just remind me that I have, through a letter from Mme. De Lorcy.” + </p> + <p> + “Mme de Lorcy, my godmother, would do better to meddle with what concerns + her. That woman is incorrigible.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what would you have her correct herself?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply of her mania for making my happiness after her own fashion. I read + in your eyes that Camille has returned to Paris. What is his object?” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about it. How should I know? I only presume—that is, + I suppose——” + </p> + <p> + “You do not suppose—you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. At the same time, since hypothesis is the road which leads to + science, a road we <i>savants</i> travel every day, I—” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well,” she again interposed, “that I promised him nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Strictly speaking, I admit; but you requested me to tell him that you + found him too young. He has laboured conscientiously since then to correct + that fault.” Then playfully pinching her cheeks, he added: “You are a + great girl for objections. Soon you will be twenty-five years old, and you + have refused five eligible offers. Have you taken a vow to remain + unmarried?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you have no mercy,” she cried. “What! you cannot even spare me on the + Albula! You know that, of all subjects of conversation, I have most + antipathy for this.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come; you are slandering me now, my child. I spoke to you of + Camille as I might have spoken of the King of Prussia; and you rose in + arms at once, taking it wholly to yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette was silent for some moments. + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly, you are very fond of Camille,” she presently said. + </p> + <p> + “Of all the sons-in-law you could propose to me——” + </p> + <p> + “But I do not propose any.” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what I find fault with.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; since you think so much of him, this Camille, suppose you + command me to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “If I were to command, would you obey?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, just for the curiosity of the thing,” she rejoined, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Naughty girl, to mock at her father!” said he. “If these twenty years I + have been in servitude, I can scarcely emancipate myself in a day. + However, since the great king deigns to hold parley with his ministers, I + am Pomponne—let us argue.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well! you know as well as I that I have a real friendship for + Camille, as the playmate of my childhood. I remember him when he was ever + so small, and he remembers me, too, when I was a tiny creature. We played + hide-and-seek together, and he humoured me in my ten thousand little + caprices. Delightful reminiscences these, but unfortunately I think of + them too much when I see him.” + </p> + <p> + “He has passed two years among the Magyars; two years is a good while.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! he could never possibly have any authority over me. I intend that my + husband shall be my government.” + </p> + <p> + “So that you may have the pleasure of governing your government?” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, I know Camille too well. I could only fall in love with a + stranger,” said she, heedless of the last sally. + </p> + <p> + “Was not the Viscount R—- a stranger?” + </p> + <p> + “At the end of five minutes I knew him by heart. He is precisely like all + other second secretaries of legation in the world. You may be sure that + there is not a single idea in his head that is really his own. Even his + figure does not belong to himself; it is the <i>chef-d’oeuvre</i> of the + united efforts of his tailor and his shirt-maker.” + </p> + <p> + “According to this, a prime requisite in the man whom you could love is to + be poorly clad.” + </p> + <p> + “If ever my heart is touched, it will be because I have met a man who is + not like all the other men of my acquaintance. After that I will not + positively forbid him to have decent clothing.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz made a little gesture of impatience, and then set out to regain + the chaise, which was some distance in advance. When he had proceeded + about twenty steps, he paused, and, turning towards Antoinette, who was + engaged in readjusting her hood and rebuttoning her twelve-button gloves, + he said: + </p> + <p> + “I have drawn an odd number in the great lottery of this world. In our day + there are no romantic girls; the last remaining one is mine.” + </p> + <p> + “That is it; I am a romantic girl!” she cried, tossing her pretty, curly + head with an air of defiance; “and if you are wise you will not urge me to + marry, for I never shall make any but an ineligible match.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, speak lower!” he exclaimed, casting a hurried glance around him, and + adding: “Thank Heaven! there is no one here but the Albula to hear you.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz mistook. Had he raised his eyes a little higher he would have + discovered, above the rock cornice bordering the highway, a foot-path, and + in this foot-path a pedestrian tourist, who had paused beneath a fir-tree. + This tourist had set out from Chur in the diligence. At the entrance of + the defile, leaving his luggage to continue without him to Saint Moritz, + he had alighted, and with his haversack on his back had set forward on + foot for Bergun, where he proposed passing the night, as did also M. + Moriaz. Of the conversation between Antoinette and her father he had + caught only one word. This word, however, sped like an arrow into his ear, + and from his ear into the innermost recesses of his brain, where it long + quivered. It was a treasure, this word; and he did not cease to meditate + upon it, to comment on it, to extract from it all its essence, until he + had reached the first houses of Bergun, like a mendicant who has picked up + in a dusty road a well-filled purse, and who opens it, closes it, opens it + again, counts his prize piece by piece, and adds up its value twenty times + over. Our tourist dined at the <i>table d’hote</i>; he was so preoccupied + that he ate the trout caught in the Albula without suspecting that they + possessed a marvellous freshness, an exquisite flavour and delicacy, and + yet it is notorious that the trout of the Albula are the first trout of + the universe. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moiseney, the duties of whose office consisted in serving as + chaperon to Mlle. Moriaz, was not a great genius. This worthy and + excellent personage had, in fact, rather a circumscribed mind, and she had + not the least suspicion of it. Her physiognomy was not pleasing to M. + Moriaz; he had several times besought his daughter to part with her. In + the goodness of her soul Antoinette always refused; she was not one who + could countenance rebuffs to old domestics, old dogs, old horses, or + worn-out governesses. Young Candide arrived at the conclusion, as the + result of his observations, that the first degree of happiness would be to + be Mlle. Gunegonde, and the second to contemplate her throughout life. + Mlle. Moiseney believed that it would be the first degree of superhuman + felicity to be Mlle. Moriaz, the second to pass one’s life near this + queen, who, arbitrary and capricious though she might be, was most + thoughtful of the happiness of her subjects, and to be able to say: “It + was I that hatched the egg whence arose this phoenix; I did something for + this marvel; I taught her English and music.” She had boundless admiration + for her queen, amounting actually to idolatry. The English profess that + their sovereigns can do nothing amiss: “The king can do no wrong.” Mlle. + Moiseney was convinced that Mlle. Moriaz could neither do wrong nor make + mistakes about anything. She saw everything with her eyes, espoused her + likes and her dislikes, her sentiments, her opinions, her rights, and her + wrongs; she lived, as it were, a reflected existence. Every morning she + said to her idol, “How beautiful we are to-day!” precisely as the + bell-ringer who, puffing out his cheeks, cried: “We are in voice; we have + chanted vespers well to-day!” M. Moriaz excused her for finding his + daughter charming, but could not so readily approve of her upholding + Antoinette’s ideas, her decisions, her prejudices. “This woman is no + chaperon,” said he; “she is an admiration-point!” He would have been very + glad to have routed her from the field, and to give her place to a person + of good sound sense and judgment, one who might gain some influence over + Antoinette. It would have greatly surprised Mlle. Moiseney had he + represented to her that she lacked good sense. This good creature + flattered herself that she had an inexhaustible stock of this commodity; + she placed the highest estimate on her own judgment; she believed herself + to be well-nigh infallible. She discoursed in the tone of an oracle on + future contingencies; she prided herself on being able to divine all + things, to foresee all things, to predict all things—in a word, to + be in the secret of the gods. As her Christian name was Joan, M. Moriaz, + who set little store by his calendar, sometimes called her Pope Joan, + which wounded her deeply. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moiseney had two weaknesses; she was a gormand, and she admired + handsome men. Let us understand the case: she knew perfectly well that + they were not created for her; that she had no attractions to offer them; + that they had nothing to give her. She admired them naively and + innocently, as a child might admire a beautiful Epinal engraving; she + would willingly have cut out their likenesses to hang on a nail on her + wall, and contemplate while rereading “Gonzalve de Cordue” and “Le Dernier + des Cavaliers,” her two favourite romances. At Bergun, during the repast, + her brain had been working, and she had made two reflections. The first + was, that the trout of Albula were incomparable, the second that the + stranger seated opposite her had a remarkably handsome head, and was + altogether a fine-looking man. Several times, with fork halfway to mouth, + and nose in the air, she had forgotten herself in her scrutiny of him. + </p> + <p> + Antoinette, rather weary, had retired early to her chamber. Mlle. Moiseney + repaired thither to see if she needed anything, and, as she was about + leaving her for the night, candle in hand, she suddenly inquired, “Do not + you think, as I do, that this stranger is a remarkable-looking person?” + </p> + <p> + “Of whom do you speak?” rejoined Antoinette. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of the traveller who sat opposite me.” + </p> + <p> + “I confess that I scarcely looked at him.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! He has superb eyes, nearly green, with fawn-coloured tinting.” + </p> + <p> + “Most astonishing! And his hair, is it green also?” + </p> + <p> + “Chestnut brown, almost hazel.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray be more exact; is it hazel or not?” + </p> + <p> + “You need not laugh at me—his whole appearance is striking, his + figure singular, but full of character, full of expression, and as + handsome as singular.” + </p> + <p> + “What enthusiasm! It seemed to me, so far as I noticed, that he was + inclined to stoop, and that his head was very badly poised.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say?” cried Mlle. Moiseney, greatly scandalized. “How came + you to think his head badly poised?” + </p> + <p> + “There—there! Don’t let us quarrel about it; I am ready to retract. + Good-night, mademoiselle. Apropos, did you know that M. Camille Langis had + returned to Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know it, but I am not surprised. I had surmised it; in fact, I + was quite sure that he would be back about this time, perfectly sure. And, + of course, you think he has returned with the intention—” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” interrupted Antoinette, “that it costs me more to pain M. + Langis than any other man in the world. I think, also, that he possesses + most tiresome fidelity; it is always the way, one never loses one’s dog + when one wants to lose him; and I think, moreover, that a woman makes a + poor bargain when she marries a man for whom she feels friendship; for, if + she gains a husband, she is very sure to lose a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “How true your words are!” exclaimed Mlle. Moiseney. “But you are always + right. Has M. Langis forgotten that you thought him too young—only + twenty-three?” + </p> + <p> + “He has so little forgotten it that he has managed, I don’t know how, to + be at present twenty-five. How resist such a mark of affection? I shall be + compelled to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + “That will never do. People do not marry for charity,” replied Mlle. + Moiseney, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my dear,” said Antoinette, dismissing her. “Do not dream too much + about your unknown charmer. I assure you he had a decided stoop in his + shoulders. However, that makes small difference; if your heart speaks, I + will see to arranging this affair for you.” And she added, musingly, “How + amusing it must be to marry other people!” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mlle. Moiseney made the acquaintance of her unknown + charmer. Before leaving Bergun Mlle. Moriaz wished to make a sketch, and + she had gone out early with her father. Mlle. Moiseney descended to the + hotel <i>salon</i>, and, espying a piano, she opened it and played a <i>fantasia</i> + by Schumann; she was a tolerably good musician. When she had finished, + Count Abel Larinski, the man with green eyes, who had entered the <i>salon</i> + without her hearing him, approached to thank her for the pleasure he had + had in listening to her; but he begged to take the liberty to tell her + that she failed to properly observe the movement, and had taken an <i>andantino</i> + for an <i>andante</i>. At her solicitation he took her place at the + instrument, and executed the <i>andantino</i> as few but professional + artists could do. Mlle. Moiseney, ever ready with her enthusiasm, declared + that he must be a Liszt or a Chopin, and implored him to play her + something else, to which he consented with good grace. After this they + talked about music and many other things. The man with the green eyes + possessed one quality in common with Socrates, he was master in the art of + interrogating, and Mlle. Moiseney loved to talk. The subject on which she + discoursed most willingly was Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz; when she was + started under this heading she became eloquent. At the end of half an hour + Count Abel was thoroughly <i>au fait</i> on the character and position of + Mlle. Moriaz. He knew that she had a heart of gold, a mind free from all + narrow prejudices, a generous soul, and a love for all that was chivalrous + and heroic; he knew that two days of every week were devoted by her to + visiting the poor, and that she looked upon these as natural creditors to + whom it was her duty to make restitution. He knew also that Mlle. Moriaz + could all the better satisfy her charitable inclinations, as her mother + had left her an income of one hundred thousand livres. He learned that she + danced to perfection, that she drew like an angel, and that she read + Italian and spoke English. This last seemed of mediocre importance to + Count Abel. St. Paul said: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of + angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling + cymbal.” The count was of St. Paul’s opinion, and had Mlle. Moriaz known + neither how to speak English, nor to draw, nor yet to dance, it would not + in the least have diminished the esteem with which he honoured her. The + main essential in his eyes was that she was benevolent to the poor, and + that she cherished a little tenderness for heroes. + </p> + <p> + When he had learned, with an air of indifference, all that he cared to + learn, he respectfully bowed himself away from Mlle. Moiseney, to whom he + had not mentioned his name, and, buckling his haversack, he put it on his + back, paid his bill, and set out on foot to make a hasty ascent of the + culminating point of the Albula Pass, which leads into the Engadine + Valley. One would have difficulty in finding throughout the Alps a more + completely barren, rugged, desolate spot, than this portion of the Albula + Pass. The highway lies among masses of rocks, heaped up in terrible + disorder. Arrived at the culminating point, Count Abel felt the necessity + of taking breath. He clambered up a little hillock, where he seated + himself. At his feet were wide open the yawning jaws of a cavern, + obstructed by great tufts of aconite (wolf’s-bane), with sombre foliage; + one would have said that they kept guard over some crime in which they had + been accomplices. Count Abel contemplated the awful silence that + surrounded him; everywhere enormous boulders, heaped together, or + scattered about in isolated grandeur; some pitched on their sides, others + standing erect, still others suspended, as it were, in mid-air. It seemed + to him that these boulders had formerly served for the games of + bacchanalian Titans, who, after having used them as skittles or + jack-stones, had ended by hurling them at one another’s heads. It is most + probable that He who constructed the Albula Pass, alarmed and confused by + the hideous aspect of his work, did justice to it by breaking it into + fragments with his gigantic hammer. + </p> + <p> + Count Abel heard a tinkling of bells, and, looking up, he saw approaching + a post-chaise, making its way from Engadine to Bergun. It was a large, + uncovered berlin, and in it sat a woman of about sixty years of age, + accompanied by her attendants and her pug-dog. This woman had rather a + bulky head, a long face, a snub-nose, high cheek-bones, a keen, bright + eye, a large mouth, about which played a smile, at the same time <i>spirituel</i>, + imperious, and contemptuous. Abel grew pale, and became at once convulsed + with terror; he could not withdraw his eyes from this markedly Mongolian + physiognomy, which from afar he had recognised. “Ah, yes,” he said, “it is + she!” He drew over his face the cape of his mantle, and disappeared as + completely as it is possible to disappear when one is perched upon a + hillock. It was six years since he had seen this woman, and he had + promised himself never to see her again; but man is the plaything of + circumstances, and his happiness as well as his pride is at the mercy of a + chance encounter. Count Abel was no longer proud; for some moments he had + humbled himself, he had ceased to exist. + </p> + <p> + Happily he discovered that he had not been recognised; that the woman of + sixty years of age was not looking his way. She had good taste; + discovering the hideous aspect of the country, which is usually known as + the Vallee du Diable, she had opened a volume, bound in morocco, which her + waiting-woman had placed in her hands. This volume was not a new novel; it + was a German book, entitled “The History of Civilization, viewed in + Accordance with the Doctrines of Evolution, from the most Remote Period to + the Present Day.” She neither had made much progress in the pages of the + book nor in the history of civilization; she had not got beyond the age of + stone or of bronze; she was still among primitive animal life, among the + protozoa, the monads, the infusoria, the vibratiles—in the age of + albumen, or gelatinous civilization, as it was called by the author, the + sagacity of whose views charmed her. She only interrupted her reading at + intervals to lightly stroke the nose of her pug, who lay snoring in her + lap, and she was a thousand leagues from suspecting that Count Abel + Larinski was at hand, watching her. + </p> + <p> + The berlin passed by him without stopping, and soon it had begun the + descent towards Bergun. Then he felt a great weight roll from his heart, + which beat freely once more. The berlin moved rapidly away; the count + followed it with his prayers, smoothing its course, removing every stone + or other obstacle that might retard its progress. It was just disappearing + round one of the curves of the road, when it crossed another post-chaise, + making the ascent in a walk, and in it Count Abel perceived something red: + it was the hood of Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz. A moment more and the berlin + was gone; it seemed to him that the shadow of his sorrowful youth, emerged + suddenly from the realm of shades, had been plunged back there forever, + and that the fay of hope—she who holds in her keeping the secrets of + the future—was ascending toward him, red-hooded, flowers in her + hands, sunshine in her eyes. The clouds parted, the deep shadow covering + the Vallee du Diable cleared away, and the dismal solitude began to smile. + Count Abel arose, picked up his staff, and shook himself. As he passed + before the cavern, he discovered, among the tufts of aconite which covered + it, a mossy hollow, and he perceived that this hollow was ornamented with + beautiful blue campanulas, whose little bells gracefully waved in the + gentle breeze which was stirring. He gathered one of these campanulas, + carried it to his lips, and found its taste most agreeable. Half an hour + later he turned from the highway into a foot-path which led through green + pastures and forests of larch-trees. + </p> + <p> + By the time he had reached the heart of the valley it was nightfall. He + traversed the hamlet of Cresta, crossed a bridge, found himself at the + entrance of the village of Cellarina, about twenty-five minutes’ walk form + Saint Moritz. After taking counsel with himself, he resolved to proceed no + farther; and so he put up at a neat, pretty inn, which had just been + freshly white-washed. + </p> + <p> + The air of the Engadine is so keen and bracing that the first nights + passed there are apt to be sleepless ones. Count Larinski scarcely slept + at all in his new quarters. Would he have slept better on the plains? He + became worn out with his thoughts. Of what was he thinking? Of the + cathedral at Chur, of the Vallee du Diable, of the tufts of aconite, the + campanulas, and the meeting of the two post-chaises, one ascending, the + other descending. After that he saw no longer anything but a red hood, and + his eyes were open when the first blush of the morning penetrated his + modest chamber. Eagles sleep little when they are preparing for the chase. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The Baths of Saint Moritz are, according to the verdict of a large number + of people, by no means an enlivening resort, and here tarry chiefly + genuine invalids, who cherish a sincere desire to recover health and + strength. The invigorating atmosphere, the chalybeate waters, which are + unquestionably wholesome, although they do taste like ink, have wrought + more than one actual miracle; nevertheless, it is said to require no + little philosophy to tolerate existence there. “I am charmed to have had + the experience of visiting the Baths,” we once heard an invalid say, “for + I know now that I am capable of enduring anything and everything.” But + this, let us hasten to assure the reader, is an exaggeration—the + mere babbling of an ingrate. + </p> + <p> + The Upper Engadine Valley, in which Saint Moritz is situated, has, as well + as the Baths, its detractors and its admirers. This narrow valley, + throughout whose whole length flows the Inn, shut in by glacier-capped + mountains, whose slopes are covered with spruce, pine, and larch trees, + lies at an altitude of some five thousand feet above the level of the sea. + It often snows there in the month of August, but spring and early summer + in the locality are delightful; and dotted about are numerous little + romantic green lakes, glittering like emeralds in the sunshine. Those who + slander these by comparing them to wash-bowls and cisterns, are simply + troubled with the spleen, a malady which neither iron, iodine, nor yet + sulphur, can cure. + </p> + <p> + One thing these discontented folks cannot deny, and that is that it would + be difficult, not to say impossible, to find anywhere in the mountains + more flowery and highly perfumed mossy banks than those of the Engadine. + We do not make this assertion because of the rhododendrons that abound on + the borders of the lakes: we are not fond of this showy, pretentious + shrub, whose flowers look as if they were moulded in wax for the + decoration of some altar; but is it not delightful to walk on a + greensward, almost black with rich satyrion and vanilla? And what would + you think of a wealth of gentians, large and small; great yellow arnicas; + beautiful Martagon lilies; and St.-Bruno lilies; of every variety of + daphne; of androsace, with its rose-coloured clusters; of the + flame-coloured orchis; of saxifrage; of great, velvety campanulas; of + pretty violet asters, wrapped in little, cravat-like tufting, to protect + them from the cold? Besides, near the runnels, following whose borders the + cattle have tracked out graded paths, there grows that species of + immortelle called <i>Edelweiss</i>, an object of covetousness to every + guest at the Baths. Higher up, near the glacier approach, may be found the + white heart’s-ease, the anemone, and the glacial ranunculus (spearwort); + higher still, often buried beneath the snow, flourishes that charming + little lilac flower, delicately cut, sensitive, quivering, as it were, + with a cold, known as the soldanella. To scrape away the snow and find + beneath it a flower! Are there often made such delightful discoveries in + life? + </p> + <p> + Having said thus much, we must admit that the Rue de Saint Moritz does not + resemble the Rue de la Paix of Paris. We must also admit that the markets + of the place are poorly supplied, and that in an atmosphere well + calculated to stimulate the appetite the wherewithal to supply this cannot + always be obtained. We cannot have everything in this world; but it is by + no means our intention to advise any one to take up his residence for life + in the Engadine. There must, however, be some charm in this valley, since + those of its inhabitants who emigrate from it in their youth are very apt, + after they have made some money, to return to pass their old age in their + natal place, where they build some very pretty houses. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz did not find Saint Moritz disagreeable; the wildness of the + scenery and the rugged pines pleased her. From the terrace of Hotel + Badrutt she loved to gaze upon the green lake, slumbering at her feet, and + it never occurred to her to grumble because it had the form of a + wash-bowl. She loved to see the cows returning at evening from the + pasture. The cowherd in charge marshalled home in the most orderly manner + his little drove, which announced its coming from afar by the tinkling of + the cow-bells. Each one of the creatures stopped of itself at the entrance + to its stall and demanded admittance by its lowing. In the morning, when + they were turned out again, they awaited the arrival of the entire herd, + and fell into rank and file, each in its proper place. The first time + Mlle. Moriaz witnessed this ceremony, she found it as interesting as a + first presentation at the theatre or opera. + </p> + <p> + There were several rainy days, which she employed in reading, painting, + and making observations on the human animals of both sexes whom she + encountered at the <i>table d’hote</i>. She soon gained an increase of + occupation. With her, mind and heart were so constantly on the alert that + it was impossible for her to remain a week in a place without discovering + some work of charity to be performed. A woman to whom she had taken a + fancy, a little shopkeeper of the place, interested her in her daughter, + who was destined to be a governess, and who desired to learn drawing. + Antoinette undertook to give her drawing-lessons, making her come every + day to the hotel, and often keeping her there several hours. Her pupil was + rather dull of comprehension, and caused her to grow a little cross + sometimes; but she always made amends to the girl by her caresses and + sprightly talk. + </p> + <p> + The weather became fine again. Antoinette availed herself of the + opportunity to take long promenades; she clambered up the mountain-slopes, + over slippery turf, in the hope of carrying home some rare plant; but her + strength was not equal to her valour—she could not succeed in + scaling those heights where flourished the <i>Edelweiss</i>. A week after + her arrival she had a surprise, we might even say a pleasurable emotion, + which was not comprised in the programme of amusements that the proprietor + of Hotel Badrutt undertook to procure for his guests. Returning from an + excursion to Lake Silvaplana, she found in her chamber a basket containing + a veritable sheaf of Alpine flowers, freshly gathered, and among them not + only <i>Edelweiss</i> in profusion, but several very rare plants, and the + rarest of all a certain bell-flower creeper, which smells like the + apricot, and which, except in some districts of the Engadine, is only + found now in Siberia. This splendid bouquet was accompanied by a note, + thus conceived: + </p> + <p> + “A man who had had enough of life, resolved to hang himself. To execute + his dolorous design, he selected a lonely and dismal spot, where there + grew a solitary oak, whose sap was nearly exhausted. As he was engaged in + securing his cord, a bird alighted on the half-dead tree and began to + sing. The man said to himself: ‘Since there is no spot so miserable that a + bird will not deign to sing in it, I will have the courage to live.’ And + he lived. + </p> + <p> + “I arrived in this village disgusted with life, sorrowful and so weary + that I longed to die. I saw you pass by, and I know not what mysterious + virtue entered into me. I will live. + </p> + <p> + “‘What matters it to me?’ you will say, in reading these lines; and you + will be right. My sole excuse for having written them is, that I will + leave here in a few days; that you never will see me again, never know who + I am!” + </p> + <p> + The first impression of Antoinette was one of profound astonishment. She + would have taken it for granted that there was some mistake had not her + name been written in full on the envelope. Her second impulse was to laugh + at her adventure. She accorded full justice to Mlle. Moriaz; she knew very + well that she did not resemble the first chance comer; but that her beauty + would work miracles, resurrections; that a hypochondriac, merely from + seeing her pass by, was likely to regain his taste for existence, scarcely + appeared admissible to her. So great was her curiosity, that she took the + pains to make inquiries; the flowers and the letter had been left by a + little peasant, who was not of the place, and who could not be found. + Antoinette examined the hotel-register; she did not see there the + handwriting of the letter. She studied the faces which surrounded her; + there was not in Hotel Badrutt a single romantic-looking person. Very + speedily she renounced her search. The bouquet pleased her; she kept it as + a present fallen from the skies, and preserved the letter as a curiosity, + without long troubling herself to know who had written it. “Do not let us + talk about it any more, it is doubtless some lunatic,” she replied one day + to Mlle. Moiseney, who kept constantly recurring to the incident whose + mystery she burned to fathom. The good demoiselle had been tempted to stop + people in the road to ask, “Was it you?” Perchance she might have + suspected her Bergun unknown to have a hand in the affair, had she had the + least idea that he was at Saint Moritz, where she never had met him. He + came there, nevertheless, every day, but at his own time; besides, the + hotels were full to overflowing, and it was very easy to lose one’s self + in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + To tell the truth, when Count Abel Larinski came to Saint Moritz he was + far less occupied with Mlle. Moriaz than with a certain illustrious + chemist. The air of the Engadine and the waters that tasted like ink had + worked marvels: in a week M. Moriaz felt like a new man. There had come to + him a most formidable appetite, and he could walk for hours at a time + without becoming weary. He abused his growing strength by constantly + strolling through the mountains without a guide, hammer in hand; and every + day, in spite of the remonstrances of his daughter, he increased the + length of his excursions. The more people know, the more inquisitive they + become; and, when one is inquisitive, one can go to great lengths without + feeling fatigue; one only becomes conscious of this after the exertion is + over. M. Moriaz never for a moment suspected that he was accompanied, at a + respectful distance, on these solitary expeditions, by a stranger, who, + with eyes and ears both on the alert, watched over him like a providence. + The most peculiar part of the affair was that this providence would gladly + have caused him to take a misstep, or thrust him into some quagmire, in + order to have the pleasure of drawing him out, and bearing him in his arms + to the Hotel Badrutt. “If only he could fall into a hole and break his + leg!” Such was the daily wish of Count Abel Larinski; but <i>savants</i> + have great license allowed them. Although M. Moriaz was both corpulent and + inclined to be absent-minded, he plunged into more than one quagmire + without sticking fast, more than one marsh without having his progress + impeded. + </p> + <p> + One morning he conceived the project of climbing up as high as a certain + fortress of mountains whose battlements overhang a forest of pine and + larch trees. He was not yet sufficiently accustomed to the mountains to + realize how deceptive distances become there. After having drained two + glasses of the chalybeate waters, and breakfasted heartily, he set out, + crossed the Inn, and began the ascent to the forest. The slope grew more + and more abrupt, and ere long he discovered that he had wandered from the + foot-path. He was not one to be easily disheartened; he continued + climbing, laying hold of the brushwood with his hands, planting his feet + among perfidious pine-needles, which form a carpet as smooth as a mirror, + making three steps forward and two backward. Great drops of perspiration + started out on his brow, and he sat down for a moment to wipe them away, + hoping that some wood-cutter might appear and show him the way back to the + path, if there was one. But no human soul came within sight; and plucking + up his courage again he resumed the ascent, until he had nearly reached a + breastwork of rock, in which he vainly sought an opening. He was about + retracing his steps when he remembered that from the gallery of the hotel + he had observed this breastwork of reddish rock, and it seemed to him that + he remembered also that it formed the buttress of the mountain-stronghold + of which he was in quest; and so he concluded that this would be the last + obstacle he would have to overcome. He thought that it would be actually + humiliating to be so near the goal and yet renounce it. The rock, worn by + the frost, presented sundry crevices and indentures, forming a natural + stairway. Arming himself with all his strength, and making free use of his + nails, he undertook to scale it, and in five minutes had gained a sort of + plateau, which, unluckily for him, he found to be commanded by a smooth + granite wall of a fearful height. The only satisfactory procedure for him + now was to return whence he had come; but in these perilous passages to + ascend is easier than to descend; it being impossible to choose one’s + steps, descent might lead to a rather undesirable adventure. M. Moriaz did + not dare to risk this adventure. + </p> + <p> + He walked the whole length of the plateau where he found himself in the + hope of discovering some outlet; but the sole outlet he could discover had + already been monopolized by a mountain-torrent whose troubled waters + noisily precipitated themselves through it to the depths below. This + torrent was much too wide to wade, and to think of leaping over it would + have been preposterous. All retreat being cut off, M. Moriaz began to + regret his audacity. Seized by a sudden agony of alarm, he began to ask + himself if he was not condemned to end his days in this eagle’s-nest; he + thought with envy of the felicity of the inhabitants of the plains; he + cast piteous glances at the implacable wall whose frowning visage seemed + to reproach him with his imprudence. It seemed to him that the human mind + never had devised anything more beautiful than a great highway; and it + would have taken little to make him exclaim with Panurge, “Oh, thrice—ay, + quadruply—happy those who plant cabbages!” + </p> + <p> + Although there seemed small chance of his being heard in this solitude, he + called aloud several times; he had great difficulty in raising his voice + above the noise of the cataract. Suddenly he believed that he heard below + him a distant voice replying to his call. He redoubled his cries, and it + seemed to him that the voice drew nearer, and soon he saw emerging from + the thicket bordering the opposite bank of the torrent a pale face with + chestnut beard, which he remembered having beheld in the cathedral at + Chur, and to have seen again at Bergun. + </p> + <p> + “You are a prisoner, monsieur,” was the salutation of Count Larinski; for, + of course, the newcomer was none other than he. “One moment’s patience, + and I am with you.” And his face beamed with joy. He had him at last, this + precious game which has caused him so many steps. + </p> + <p> + He turned away, bounding from rock to rock with the agility of a chamois. + In about twenty minutes he reappeared, bearing on his shoulder a long + plank which he had detached from the inclosure of a piece of pasture-land. + He threw it across the torrent, secured it as well as he could, crossed + this impromptu foot-bridge of his own device, and joined M. Moriaz, who + was quite ready to embrace him. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is more perfidious than the mountains,” said the count. “They are + haunted by some mysterious sprite, who fairly delights in playing tricks + with venturesome people; but ‘all’s well that ends well.’ Before setting + out from here you need something to revive you. The rarefied atmosphere of + these high regions makes the stomach frightfully hollow. More prudent than + you, I never undertake these expeditions without providing myself with + some refreshment. But how pale you are!” he added, looking at him with + sympathetic, almost tender, eyes. “Put on, I beg of you, my overcoat, and + I will wrap myself up in my plaid, and then we will both be warm.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he took off his overcoat and handed it to M. Moriaz, who, + feeling almost frozen, offered feeble objections to donning the garment, + although he had some difficulty in getting into the sleeves. + </p> + <p> + During this time Count Abel had thrown down on the rock the wallet he + carried slung to a leathern strap over his shoulders. He drew forth from + it a loaf of light bread, some hard-boiled eggs, a <i>pate</i> of venison, + and a bottle of excellent burgundy. These provisions he spread out around + him, and then presented to M. Moriaz a cup cut from a cocoanut-shell, and + filled it to the brim, saying, “Here is something that will entirely + restore you.” M. Moriaz drained the cup, and soon felt his weakness + disappear. His natural good spirits returned to him, and he gaily narrated + to his Amphitryon his deplorable Odyssey. In return, Abel recounted to him + a similar adventure he had had in the Carpathian Mountains. It is very + easy to take a liking to a man who helps you out of a scrape, who gives + you drink when you are thirsty, and food when you are hungry; but, even + had not M. Moriaz been under great obligations to Count Larinski, he could + not have avoided the discovery that this amiable stranger was a man of + good address and agreeable conversation. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, so soon as the repast was finished, he said: “We have + forgotten ourselves in our talk. I am the happy father of a charming + daughter who has a vivid imagination. She will believe that I have met + with an untimely end if I do not hasten as speedily as possible to + reassure her.” + </p> + <p> + Count Abel hereupon gave his hand to M. Moriaz to aid him in preserving + his equilibrium as he crossed the plank, which was not wide. Throughout + the descent he overwhelmed him with attentions, sustaining him with his + arm when the descent became too abrupt. So soon as they had made their way + to a foot-path, they resumed their conversation. Abel was very + clear-sighted, and, like Socrates, as we said before, he was master in the + art of interrogating. He turned the conversation to erratic glaciers and + boulders. M. Moriaz was enchanted with his manner of asking questions; as + Professor of the College of France, he was well pleased to owe his life to + an intelligent man. + </p> + <p> + As they traversed a pine-forest, they heard a voice hailing them, and they + were shortly joined by a guide whom Mlle. Moriaz, mortally disquieted at + the prolonged absence of her father, had sent in quest of him. Pale with + emotion, trembling in every fibre, she had seated herself on the bank of a + stream. She was completely a prey to terror, and in her imagination + plainly saw her father lying half dead at the bottom of some precipice or + rocky crevasse. On perceiving him she uttered a cry of joy and ran to meet + him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! truly, my love,” said he, “I have been more fortunate than wise. And + I shall have to ask my deliverer his name in order to present him to you.” + </p> + <p> + Count Abel appeared not to have heard these last words. He stammered out + something about M. Moriaz having exaggerated the worth of the little + service it had been his good fortune to render him, and then with a cold, + formal, dignified air, he bowed to Antoinette and moved hurriedly away, as + a man who cares little to make new acquaintances, and who longs to get + back to his solitude. + </p> + <p> + He was already at some distance when M. Moriaz, who had been busily + recounting his adventures to his daughter, bethought him that he had kept + his deliverer’s overcoat. He searched in the pockets, and there found a + memorandum-book and some visiting-cards bearing the name of Count Abel + Larinski. Before dinner he made the tour of all the hotels in Saint Moritz + without discovering where M. Larinski lodged. He learned it in the evening + from a peasant who came over from Cellarina for the overcoat. + </p> + <p> + The good Mlle. Moiseney was quite taken with Count Abel; first, because he + was handsome, and then because he played the piano bewitchingly. There + could be no doubt that Antoinette would feel grateful to this good-looking + musician who had restored to her her father. Certain of being no longer + thwarted in her enthusiasm, she said to her that evening, with a smile + which was meant to be excessively ironical: + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, do you still think that Count Larinski has a stoop in his + shoulders, and that his head is badly poised?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of small import, but I do not gainsay it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if you had only heard him play one of Schumann’s romances!” + </p> + <p> + “A talent for music is a noble one. Nevertheless, the man’s chief merit, + in my eyes, is that he has a taste for saving life.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was sure from the first, perfectly sure, that this man had a large + heart and a noble soul. I read physiognomies very correctly, and I never + need to see people twice to know how far they can be relied on.” After a + pause she added, “I wonder if I dare tell you, my dear, of an idea that + has occurred to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, by all means. Your ideas sometimes amuse me.” + </p> + <p> + “Might it not turn out that the author of a certain note, and sender of a + certain thing, was M. le Comte Abel Larinski?” + </p> + <p> + “Why he rather than any other?” queried Antoinette. “I believe you do him + wrong: he appears to be a gentleman, and gentlemen do not write anonymous + letters.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that was a very innocent one, and you may be sure that he wrote it in + perfect good faith.” + </p> + <p> + “You believe, then, mademoiselle, that in good faith a man about to put a + halter about his neck would renounce his project because he had + encountered Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz on a public highway?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” cried Mlle. Moiseney, looking at her with eyes wide open with + admiration. “Besides, you know the Poles are a hot-headed people, whose + hearts are open to all noble enthusiasms. One could pardon in Count + Larinski what could not be overlooked in a Parisian.” + </p> + <p> + “I will pardon him on condition that he will keep his promise and never + make himself known to me, for this is unquestionably the first duty of a + mysterious unknown. Just now he refused to let my father present him to + me, which is a good mark in his favour. If he alters his mind, he becomes + at once a condemned man. I pity you, my dear Joan,” added Antoinette, + laughingly. “You are dying with longing to hear one of those romances + without words, which M. Larinski plays so divinely; and if M. Larinski be + the man of the letter, his own avowal prohibits him from appearing before + me again. How can you extricate yourself from this dilemma? The case is + embarrassing.” + </p> + <p> + It was M. Moriaz who undertook the solution of this embarrassing dilemma. + Three days later, some moments before dinner, he was walking in the + hotel-grounds, smoking a cigar. He saw passing along the road Count Abel, + on his way back to Cellarina. A storm was coming up; already great drops + of rain were beginning to fall. M. Moriaz ran after the count and seized + him by the button, saying: “You have saved my life—permit me, at + least, to save you from the rain. Do me the honour to share our dinner; we + will have it served in my apartment.” + </p> + <p> + Abel strongly resisted this proposition, giving reasons that sounded like + mere pretences. A rumbling of thunder was heard. M. Moriaz took his man by + the arm, and led him in by force. He presented him to his daughter, + saying: “Antoinette, let me present to you M. le Comte Larinski, a most + excellent man, but little inclined to sociability. I was compelled to use + violence in bringing him here.” + </p> + <p> + The count acknowledged these remarks with a constrained smile. He wore the + manner of a prisoner; but, as he prided himself on his good-breeding and + on his philosophy, he seemed to be endeavouring to make the best of his + prison. During dinner he was grave. He treated Antoinette with frigid + politeness, paid some attention to Mlle. Moiseney, but reserved his chief + assiduities for Mr. Moriaz. He addressed his conversation more + particularly to him, and listened to him with profound respect. A + professor is always sensible to this kind of courtesy. + </p> + <p> + After the coffee was served, the crusting of ice in which Count Abel had + incased himself began to thaw. He had been all over the world; he knew the + United States and Turkey, New Orleans and Bucharest, San Francisco and + Constantinople. His travels had been profitable to him: he had observed + men and things, countries and institutions, customs and laws, the + indigenous races and the settlers, all but the transient visitors, with + whom he seemed to have had no time to occupy himself; at least they formed + no part of his conversation. He related several anecdotes, with some show + of sprightliness; his melancholy began to melt away, he even indulged in + little bursts of gaiety, and Antoinette could not avoid comparing him and + his discourse to some of the more rigorous passages of the Engadine, + where, amid the black shades of the pines, among frowning rocks, there are + to be found lilies, gentians, and lakes. + </p> + <p> + He resumed his gravity to reply to a question of M. Moriaz concerning + Poland. “Unhappy Poland!” cried he. “To-day the Jew is its master. Active, + adroit, inventive, little scrupulous, he makes capital out of our + indolence and our improvidence. He has over us one great advantage, which + is simply that, while we live from day to day, he possesses a notion of a + to-morrow; we despise him, and we could not do without him. We are always + thirsty, and he supplies us with drink; we never have ready money, and he + loans it to us at an enormous rate of interest; we cannot return it to + him, and he reimburses himself by seizing our goods and chattels, our + jewels, our land, and our castles. We take out our revenge in insolence, + and from time to time in petty persecutions, and we gradually arrive at + the conclusion that the sole means of freeing ourselves from the yoke of + the Jew would be to conquer the vices by which he lives.” Count Abel added + that for his part he had no prejudice against these children of Abraham, + and he quoted the words of an Austrian publicist who said that each + country had the kind of Jews it deserved. “In fact,” he continued, “in + England, as in France, and in every country where they are placed on a + footing of equality, they become one of the most wholesome, most vigorous + elements of the nation, while they are the scourge, the leeches, of the + countries that persecute them.” + </p> + <p> + “And, truly, justice demands that it should be so,” cried Mlle. Moriaz. + </p> + <p> + For the first time the count addressed himself directly to her, saying, + with a smile: “How is this, mademoiselle? You are a woman, and you love + justice!” + </p> + <p> + “This astonishes you, monsieur?” she rejoined. “You do not think justice + one of our virtues?” + </p> + <p> + “A woman of my acquaintance,” he replied, “always maintained that it would + be rendering a very bad service to this poor world of ours to suppress all + injustice, because with the same stroke would also be suppressed all + charity.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not my opinion,” said she. “When I give, it seems to me that I + make restitution.” + </p> + <p> + “She is somewhat of a socialist,” cried M. Moriaz. “I perceive it every + January in making out her accounts, and it is fortunate that she intrusts + this to me, for she never takes the trouble to look at the memorandum her + banker sends her.” + </p> + <p> + “I am proud for Poland that Mlle. Moriaz has a Polish failing,” said Abel + Larinski, gallantly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it a failing?” queried Antoinette. + </p> + <p> + “Arithmetic is the most beautiful of the sciences and the mother of + certainty,” said M. Moriaz. And turning towards the count, he added: “She + is very wrong-headed, this girl of mine; she holds absolutely + revolutionary principles, dangerous to public order and the preservation + of society. Why, she maintains that people who are in need have a right to + the superfluities of others!” + </p> + <p> + “This appears to me self-evident,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “And, for example,” further continued M. Moriaz, “she has among her <i>proteges</i> + a certain Mlle. Galard—” + </p> + <p> + “Galet,” said Mlle. Moiseney, bridling up, for she had been impatiently + awaiting an opportunity to put in a word. + </p> + <p> + “This Mlle. Leontine Galet, who lives at No. 25 Rue Mouffetard—” + </p> + <p> + “No. 27,” again interposed Mlle. Moiseney, in a magisterial tone. + </p> + <p> + “As usual, you are sure of it, perfectly sure. Very good! This Mlle. + Galard or Galet, residing at No. 25 or No. 27 Rue Mouffetard, was formerly + a florist by trade, and now she has not a sou. I do not wish to fathom the + mysteries of her past—it is very apt to be ‘lightly come, lightly + go’ with the money of these people—but certain it is that Mlle. + Galard—” + </p> + <p> + “Galet,” put in Mlle. Moiseney, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Is to-day an infirm old woman, a worthy object of the compassion of + charitable people,” continued M. Moriaz, heedless of this last + interruption. “Mlle. Moriaz allows her a pension, with which I find no + fault; but Mlle. Galet—I mistake, Mlle. Galard—has retained + from her former calling her passion for flowers, and during the winter + Mlle. Moriaz sends her every week a bouquet costing from ten to twelve + francs, which shows, according to my opinion, a lack of common-sense. In + the month of January last, she sent for Parma violets for this <i>protégé</i> + of hers. Now, I appeal to M. Larinski—is this reasonable, or is it + absurd?” + </p> + <p> + “It is admirably absurd and foolishly admirable,” replied the count. + </p> + <p> + “The flowers I give her are never so beautiful as some that were sent me + the other day,” exclaimed Mlle. Moriaz. + </p> + <p> + She went then into the next room, and returned, carrying the vase of water + containing the mysterious bouquet. “What do you think of these?” she asked + the count. “They are already much faded, and yet I think they are + beautiful still.” + </p> + <p> + He admired the bouquet; but, although Antoinette regarded him fixedly, she + detected neither blush nor confusion on his face. “It was not he,” she + said to herself. + </p> + <p> + There was a piano in the room where they had dined. As Count Abel was + taking leave, Mlle. Moiseney begged him to give Mlle. Moriaz proof of his + talent. He slightly knit his brows at this request, and resumed that + sombre, almost savage, air he had worn when he met Antoinette at the foot + of the mountain. He urged in excuse the lateness of the hour, but he + allowed the promise to be wrested from him that he would be more + complaisant the next day. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, accompanied by M. Moriaz, who said he would walk a + little distance with him, Antoinette exclaimed: “You see, my dear—it + was not he.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I was wrong,” replied Mlle. Moiseney, in a piqued tone—“you + will at least grant that he is handsome?” + </p> + <p> + “As handsome as you please. Do you know what I think of when I look at + him? A haunted castle. And I feel curious to make the acquaintance of the + goblins that visit it.” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding his promise, Count Larinski did not reappear before the + lapse of three days; but this time he gave all the music that was asked of + him. His memory was surprising, and his whole soul seemed to be at the + ends of his fingers; and he drew marvellous strains from an instrument + which, in itself, was far from being a marvel. He sang, too; he had a + barytone voice, mellow and resonant. After having hummed in a low tone + some Roumanic melodies, he struck up one of his own national songs. This + he failed to finish; tears started in his eyes, emotion overpowered his + voice. He broke off abruptly, asking pardon for the weakness that had + caused him to make himself ridiculous; but one glance at Mlle. Moriaz + convinced him that she did not find him ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + A most invaluable resource, indeed, in a mountain-country where the + evenings are long, is a Pole who knows how to talk and to sing. M. Moriaz + liked music; but he liked something else besides. When he could not go + into society and was forbidden to work, he grew sleepy after dinner; in + order to rouse himself he was glad to play a hand of <i>bezique</i> or <i>ecarte</i>. + For want of some one better, he played with Mlle. Moiseney; but this + make-shift was little to his taste; he disliked immensely coming into too + close proximity with the pinched visage and yellow ribbons of Pope Joan. + He proposed to Count Larinski to take a hand with him, and his proposal + was accepted with the best grace in the world. “Decidedly this man is good + for everything,” thought M. Moriaz, and he conceived a great liking for + him. The result was, that during an entire week Count Abel passed every + evening at the Hotel Badrutt. + </p> + <p> + “Your father is a most peculiar man,” said Mlle. Moiseney, indignantly, to + Antoinette. “He is shockingly egotistical. He has confiscated M. Larinski. + The idea of employing such a man as that to play <i>bezique</i>! He will + stop coming.” + </p> + <p> + But the count’s former savageness seemed wholly subdued. He did not stop + coming. + </p> + <p> + One evening M. Moriaz committed an imprudence. In making an odd trick, he + carelessly asked M. Larinski who had been his piano professor. + </p> + <p> + “One whose portrait I always carry about me,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + And, drawing from his vest-pocket a medallion, he presented it to M. + Moriaz, who, after having looked at it, passed it over to his daughter. + The medallion contained the portrait of a woman with blond hair, blue + eyes, a refined, lovely mouth, a fragile, delicate being with countenance + at the same time sweet and sad, the face of an angel, but an angel who had + lived and suffered. + </p> + <p> + “What an exquisite face!” cried Mlle. Moriaz. + </p> + <p> + Truly it was exquisite. Some one has asserted that a Polish woman is like + punch made with holy-water. One may like neither the punch nor the + holy-water, and yet be very fond of Polish women. They form one of the + best chapters in the great book of the Creator. + </p> + <p> + “It is the portrait of my mother,” said Count Larinski. + </p> + <p> + “Are you so fortunate as to still possess her?” asked Antoinette. + </p> + <p> + “She was a tender flower,” he replied; “and tender flowers never live + long.” + </p> + <p> + “Her portrait shows it plainly; one can see that she suffered much, but + was resigned to live.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time the count departed from the reserve he had shown + towards Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz. “I have no words to tell you,” he + exclaimed, “how happy I am that my mother pleases you!” + </p> + <p> + Othello was accused of having employed secret philters to win Desdemona’s + love. Brabantio had only himself to blame; he had taken a liking to + Othello, and often invited him to come to him; he did not make him play <i>bezique</i>, + but he questioned him on his past. The Moor recounted his life, his + sufferings, his adventures, and Desdemona wept. The fathers question, the + heroes or adventurers recount, and the daughters weep. Such are the + outlines of a history as old as the world. Abel Larinski had left the + card-table. He had taken his seat in an arm-chair, facing Mlle. Moiseney. + He was questioned; he replied. + </p> + <p> + His destiny had been neither light nor easy. He was quite young when his + father, Count Witold Larinski, implicated in a conspiracy, had been + compelled to flee from Warsaw. His property was confiscated, but luckily + he had some investments away from home, which prevented him from being + left wholly penniless. He was a man of projects. He emigrated to America + with his wife and his son; he dreamed of making a name and a fortune by + cutting a canal through the Isthmus of Panama. He repaired to New Granada, + there to make his studies and his charts. He made them so thoroughly that + he died of yellow fever before having begun his work, having come to the + end of his money and leaving his widow in the most cruel destitution. + Countess Larinski said to her son: “We have nothing more to live on; but, + then, is it so necessary to live?” She uttered these words with an angelic + smile about her lips. Abel set out for California. He undertook the most + menial services; he swept the streets, acted as porter; what cared he, so + long as his mother did not die of hunger? All that he earned he sent to + her, enduring himself the most terrible privations, making her think that + he denied himself nothing. In the course of time Fortune favoured him; he + had acquired a certain competency. The countess came to rejoin him in San + Francisco; but angels cannot live in the rude, exciting atmosphere of the + gold-seekers; they suffer, spread their wings, and fly away. Some weeks + after having lost his mother—it was in 1863—Count Abel learned + from a journal that fell into his hands that Poland had risen again. He + was twenty-one years of age. He thought he heard a voice calling him, and + another voice from the skies whispered: “She calls thee. Go; it is thy + duty.” And he went. Two months later he crossed the frontier of Galicia to + join the bands of Langiewicz. + </p> + <p> + Othello spoke to Desdemona of caverns, deserts, quarries, rocks, and hills + whose heads touch heaven; of cannibals, the anthropophagi, and men whose + heads do grow beneath their shoulders. Count Abel spoke to Mlle. Moriaz of + the fortunes and vicissitudes of partisan warfare, of vain exploits, of + obscure glories, of bloody encounters that never are decisive, of defeats + from which survive hope, hunger, thirst, cold, snow stained with blood, + and long captivities in forests, tracked by the enemy; then disasters, + discouragements, the vanishing of the last hope, punishment, the gallows, + and finally a mute, feverish resignation, swallowed up in that vast + solitude with which silence surrounds misfortune. After the dispersion of + the band whose destinies he had followed, he had gone over to Roumania. + </p> + <p> + This narration, exact and precise, bore the impress of truth. Count Abel + made it in a simple, modest tone, keeping himself as much as possible in + the background, and growing persuasive without apparent effort. There were + moments when his face would flame up with enthusiasm, when his voice would + become husky and broken, when he would seek for a word, become impatient + because he could not find it, find it at last, and this effort added to + the energy of his spasmodic and disjointed eloquence. In conclusion, he + said: “In his youth man believes himself born to roll; the day comes when + he experiences the necessity of being seated. I am seated; my seat is a + little hard, but when I am tempted to murmur, I think of my mother and + refrain.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do in Roumania?” inquired M. Moriaz, who liked to have + stories circumstantially detailed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I beg of you to excuse me from recounting to you the worst employed + years of my life. I am my father’s own son. He dreamed of cutting through + an isthmus, I of inventing a gun. I spent four years of my life in + fabricating it, and the first time it was used it burst.” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon he plunged into a somewhat humorous description of his + invention, his hopes, his golden dreams, his disappointments, and his + chagrin. “The only admirable thing in the whole affair,” he concluded, + “and something that I believe never has happened to any other inventor, is + that I am cured entirely of my chimera; I defy it to take possession of me + again. I propose to put myself under discipline in order to expiate my + extravagance. So soon as my cure is entirely finished I will set out for + Paris, where I will do penance.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of penance?” asked M. Moriaz. “Paris is not a hermitage.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor is it my intention to live there as a hermit,” was the reply, given + with perfect simplicity. “I go to give lessons in music and in the + languages.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” exclaimed M. Moriaz. “Do you see no other career open to you, my + dear count?” + </p> + <p> + “I am no longer a count,” he replied, with an heroic smile. “Counts do not + run about giving private lessons.” And a strange light flashed in his eyes + as he spoke. “I shall run about giving private lessons until I hear anew + the voice that spoke to me in California. It will find me ever ready; my + reply will be: ‘I belong to thee; dispose of me at thy pleasure.’ Ah! this + chimera is one that I never will renounce!” + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly he started as one just awakening from a dream; he drew his + hand over his brow, looked confusedly around him, and said: “<i>Grand + Dieu!</i> here I have been talking to you of myself for two hours! It is + the most stupid way of passing one’s time, and I promise you it shall not + happen again.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he rose, took up his hat, and left. + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz paced the floor for some moments, his hands behind his back; + presently he said: “This <i>diable</i> of a man has strangely moved me. + One thing alone spoils his story for me—that is the gun. A man who + once has drunk will drink again; one who has invented will invent again. + No man in the world ever remained satisfied with his first gun.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, monsieur,” cried Mlle. Moiseney, “could you not speak to + the Minister of War about adopting the Larinski musket?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you your country’s enemy?” he asked. “Do you wish its destruction? + Have you sworn that after Alsace we must lose Champagne?” + </p> + <p> + “I am perfectly sure,” she replied, mounting on her high horse, “that the + Larinski musket is a <i>chef-d’oeuvre</i>, and I would pledge my life that + he who invented it is a man of genius.” + </p> + <p> + “If you would pledge your word of honour to that, mademoiselle,” he + replied, making her a profound bow, “you may well feel assured that the + French Government would not hesitate a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz took no part in this conversation. Her face slightly + contracted, buried in her thoughts as in a solitude inaccessible to + earthly sounds, her cheek resting in the palm of her left hand, she held + in her right hand a paper-cutter, and she kept pricking the point into one + of the grooves of the table on which her elbow rested, while her + half-closed eyes were fixed on a knot of the mahogany. She saw in this + knot the Isthmus of Panama, San Francisco, the angelic countenance of the + beautiful Polish woman who had given birth to Count Abel Larinski; she saw + there also fields of snow, ambuscades, retreats more glorious than + victories, and, beyond all else, the bursting of a gun and of a man’s + heart. + </p> + <p> + She arose, and saluted her father without a word. In crossing the <i>salon</i> + she perceived that M. Larinski had forgotten a book he had left on the + piano when he came in. She opened the volume; he had written his name on + the top of the first page, and Antoinette recognised the handwriting of + the note. + </p> + <p> + Shut up in her own room, while taking down and combing her hair, her + imagination long wandered through California and Poland. She compared M. + Larinski with all the other men she ever had known, and she concluded that + he resembled none of them. And it was he who had written: “I arrived in + this village disgusted with life, sorrowful and so weary that I longed to + die. I saw you pass by, and I know not what mysterious virtue entered into + me. I will live.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her that for long years she had been seeking some one, and + that she had done well to come to the Engadine, because here she had found + the object of her search. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Two, three, four days passed without Count Larinski reappearing at the + Hotel Badrutt, where every evening he was expected. This prolonged absence + keenly affected Mlle. Moriaz. She sought an explanation thereof; the + search occupied part of her days, and troubled her sleep. She had too much + character not to conceal her trouble and anxiety. Those about her had not + the least suspicion that she asked herself a hundred times in the + twenty-four hours: “Why does he not come? will he never come again? is it + a fixed resolution? Does he blame us for drawing out, by our questions, + the secret of his life? or does he suspect that I have discovered him to + be the writer of the anonymous letter? Will he leave Engadine without + bidding us good-bye? Perhaps he has already gone, and we shall never see + him again.” This thought caused Mlle. Moriaz a heart-burn that she had + never before experienced. Her day had come; her heart was no longer free: + the bird had allowed itself to be caught. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moiseney said to her one evening: “It seems certain to me that we + never shall see Count Larinski again.” + </p> + <p> + She replied in an almost indifferent tone, “No doubt he has found people + at Cellarina, or elsewhere, who are more entertaining than we.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say,” said Mlle. Moiseney, “that M. Moriaz and the <i>bezique</i> + has frightened him away. I would not for worlds speak ill of your father; + he has all the good qualities imaginable, except a certain delicacy of + sentiment, which is not to be learned in dealing with acids. Think of + condemning a Count Larinski to play <i>bezique</i>! There are some things + that your father does not and never will understand.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz had entered meanwhile. “Please oblige me by explaining what it + is that I do not understand,” said he to Mlle. Moiseney. + </p> + <p> + She replied with some embarrassment, “You do not understand, monsieur, + that certain visits were a charming diversion to us, and that now we miss + them.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think that I do not miss them? It has been four days since I + have had a game of cards. But how can it be helped? Poles are fickle—more + fools they who trust them.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be simply that M. Larinski has been ill,” interrupted Antoinette, + with perfect tranquility. “I think, father, that it would be right for us + to make inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + The following day M. Moriaz went to Cellarina. He brought back word that + M. Larinski had gone on a walking-excursion through the mountains; that he + had started out with the intention of climbing to the summit of + Piz-Morteratsch, and of attempting the still more difficult ascent of + Piz-Roseg. Mlle. Moriaz found it hard to decide whether this news was good + or bad news. All depended on what point of view was taken, and she changed + hers every hour. + </p> + <p> + Since his mishap, M. Moriaz had become less rash than formerly. Experience + had taught him that there are treacherous rocks that can be climbed + without much difficulty, but from which it is impossible to descend—rocks + exposing one to the danger of ending one’s days in their midst, if there + is no Pole near at hand. Certain truths stamp themselves indelibly on the + mind; so M. Moriaz never ventured again on the mountains without being + attended by a guide, who received orders from Antoinette not to leave him, + and not to let him expose himself. One day he came in later than usual, + and his daughter reproached him, with some vivacity, for the continual + anxiety he caused her. “The glaciers and precipices will end by giving me + the nightmare,” she said to him. + </p> + <p> + “Pray on whose account, my dear?” he playfully rejoined. “I assure you the + ascent that I have just made was neither more difficult nor more dangerous + than that of Montmartre, nor of the Sannois Hill, and as to glaciers, I + have firmly resolved to keep shy of them. I have passed the age of + prowess. My guide has been making me tremble by relating the dangers to + which he was exposed in 1864 on Morteratsch, where he had accompanied + Professor Tyndall and another English tourist. They were all swept away by + an avalanche. Attached to the same rope, they went down with the snow. A + fall of three hundred metres! They would have been lost, if, through the + presence of mind of one of the guides, they had not succeeded in stopping + themselves two feet from a frightful precipice, which was about to swallow + them up. I am a father, and I do not despise life. Let him ascend + Morteratsch who likes! I wish our friend Larinski had made the descent + safe and sound. If he has met an avalanche on the way, he will invent no + more guns.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette was no longer mistress of her nerves: during the entire evening + she was so preoccupied that M. Moriaz could not fail to notice it; but he + had no suspicion of the cause. He was profoundly versed in qualitative and + quantitative analysis, but less skilled in the analysis of his daughter’s + heart. “How pale you are!” he said to her. “Are you not well? You are + cold.—Pray, Mlle. Moiseney, make yourself useful and prepare her a + mulled egg; you know I do not permit her to be sick.” + </p> + <p> + It was not the mulled egg that restored Mlle. Moriaz’s color. The next + morning as she was giving a drawing lesson to her <i>protegee</i>, Count + Abel was announced. She trembled; the blood rose in her cheeks, and she + could not conceal her agitation from the penetrating gaze of the audacious + charmer. It might easily be seen that he had just descended from where the + eagles themselves seldom ascend. His face was weather-beaten by the ice + and snow. He had successfully accomplished the double ascent, of which he + was compelled to give an account. In descending from Morteratsch he had + been overtaken by a storm, and had come very near never again seeing the + valley or Mlle. Moriaz. He owed his life to the presence of mind and + courage of his guide, on whom he could not bestow sufficient praise. + </p> + <p> + While he modestly narrated his exploits, Antoinette had dismissed her + pupil. He seemed embarrassed by the <i>tete-a-tete</i> which, + nevertheless, he had sought. He rose, saying: “I regret not being able to + see M. Moriaz; I came to bid him farewell. I leave this evening.” + </p> + <p> + She summoned courage and replied: “You did well to come; you left a volume + of Shakespeare—here it is.” Then drawing from her notebook a paper—“I + have still another restitution to make to you. I have had the misfortune + to discover that it was you who wrote this letter.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she handed him the anonymous note. He changed + countenance, and it was now his turn to grow red. “Who can prove to you,” + he demanded, “that I am the author of this offence, or rather crime?” + </p> + <p> + “Every bad case may be denied, but do not you deny.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s silence, he replied: “I will not lie, I am not capable of + lying. Yes, I am the guilty one; I confess it with sorrow, because you are + offended by my audacity.” + </p> + <p> + “I never liked madrigals, either in prose or verse, signed or anonymous,” + she returned, rather dryly. + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed, “You took this letter for a madrigal?” Then, having reread + it, he deliberately tore it up, throwing the pieces into the fireplace, + and added, smiling: “It certainly lacked common-sense; he who wrote it is + a fool, and I have nothing to say in his defence.” + </p> + <p> + Crossing her hands on her breast, and uplifting to him her brown eyes, + that were as proud as gentle, she softly murmured, “What more?” + </p> + <p> + “I came to Chur,” he replied, “I entered a church, I there saw a fair + unknown, and I forgot myself in gazing at her. That evening I saw her + again; she was walking in a garden where there was music, and this music + of harps and violins was grateful to me. I said within myself: ‘What a + thing is the heart of man! The woman who has passed me by without seeing + me does not know me, will never know of my existence; I am ignorant of + even her name, and I wish to remain so, but I am conscious that she + exists, and I am glad, content, almost happy. She will be for me the fair + unknown; she cannot prevent me from remembering her. I will think + sometimes of the fair unknown of Chur.’” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said she, “but this does not explain the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “We are coming to that,” he continued. “I was seated in a copse, by the + roadside. I had the blues—was profoundly weary; there are times when + life weighs on me like a torturing burden. I thought of disappointed + expectations, of dissipated illusions, of the bitterness of my youth and + of my future. You passed by on the road, and I said to myself, ‘There is + good in life, because of such encounters, in which we catch renewed + glimpses of what was once pleasant for us to see.’” + </p> + <p> + “And the note?” she asked again, in a dreamy tone. + </p> + <p> + He went on: “I never was a philosopher; wisdom consists in performing only + useful actions, and I was born with a taste for the useless. That evening + I saw you climb a hill, in order to gather some flowers; the hill was + steep and you could not reach the flowers. I gathered them for you, and, + in sending my bouquet, I could not resist the temptation of adding a word. + ‘Before doing penance,’ I said to myself, ‘let me commit this one folly; + it shall be the last.’ We always flatter ourselves that each folly will be + our last. The unfortunate note had scarcely gone, when I regretted having + sent it; I would have given much to have had it back; I felt all its + impropriety; I have dealt justly by it in tearing it to pieces. My only + excuse was my firm resolution not to meet you, not to make your + acquaintance. Chance ordered otherwise: I was presented to you, you know + by whom, and how; I ended by coming here every evening, but I rebelled + against my own weakness, I condemned myself to absence for a few days, so + as to break a dangerous habit, and, thank God! I have broken my chain.” + </p> + <p> + She lightly tapped the floor with the tip of her foot, and demanded with + the air of a queen recalling a subject to his allegiance, “Are you to be + believed?” + </p> + <p> + He had spoken in a half-serious, half-jesting tone, tinged with the + playful melancholy that was natural to him. He changed countenance, his + face flushed, and he cried out abruptly, “I regained my strength and will + on the summit of Morteratsch, and I only return to bid you farewell, and + to give you the assurance that I never will see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a strange case,” she replied; “but I pardon you, on condition that + you do not execute your threat. You are resolved to be wise; the wise + avoid extremes. You will remember that you have friends in Paris. My + father has many connections; if we can be of service to you in any way—” + </p> + <p> + He did not permit her to finish, and responded proudly: “I thank you, with + all my heart. I have sworn to be under obligations to none but myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she replied, “you will visit us for our pleasure. In a month + we shall be at Cormeilles.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head in sign of refusal. She looked fixedly at him, and said, + “It must be so.” + </p> + <p> + This look, these words, sent to Count Abel’s brain such a thrill of joy + and of hope that for a moment he thought he had betrayed himself. He + nearly fell on his knees before Mlle. Moriaz, but, speedily mastering his + emotions, he bowed gravely, casting down his eyes. She herself immediately + resumed her usual voice and manner, and questioned him on his journey. He + told her, in reply, that he proposed to go by the route of Soleure, and to + stay there a day in order to visit in Gurzelengasse the house where + Kosciuszko, the greatest of Poles, had died. He had thought of this + pilgrimage for a long time. He added: “Still another useless action. Ah! + when shall I improve?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t improve too much,” she said, smiling. And then he went away. + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz returned to the hotel about noon: his guide being engaged + elsewhere, he had taken only a short ramble. After breakfast his daughter + proposed to him that he should go down with her to the banks of the lake. + They made the descent, which is not difficult. This pretty piece of water, + that has been falsely accused of resembling a shaving-dish, is said to be + not less than a mile in length. When the father and daughter reached the + entrance of the woods that pedestrians pass through in going to + Pontresina, they seated themselves on the grass at the foot of a larch. + They remained some time silent. Antoinette watched the cows grazing, and + stroked the smooth, glossy leaves of a yellow gentian with the end of her + parasol. M. Moriaz busied himself with neither the cows nor the yellow + gentian—he thought of M. Camille Langis, and felt more than a little + guilty in that quarter; he had not written to him, having nothing + satisfactory to tell him. He could see the young man waiting in vain, at + the Hotel Steinbock. To pass a fortnight at Chur is a torture that the + most robust constitution scarcely can endure, and it is an increased + torture to watch every evening and every morning for a letter that never + comes. M. Moriaz resolved to open hostilities, to begin a new assault on + the impregnable place. He was seeking in his mind for a beginning for his + first phrase. He had just found it, when suddenly Antoinette said to him, + in a low, agitated, but distinct voice: “I have a question for you. What + would you think if I should some day marry M. Abel Larinski?” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz started up, and his cane, slipping from his hand, rolled to the + bottom of the declivity. He looked at his daughter, and said to her: “I + beg of you to repeat what you just said to me. I fear I have misunderstood + you.” + </p> + <p> + She answered in a firmer voice, “I am curious to know what you would think + if I should marry, some day or other, Count Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + He was startled, thunderstruck. He never had foreseen that such a + catastrophe could occur, nor had the least suspicion that anything had + passed between his daughter and M. Larinski. Of all the ideas that had + suggested themselves to him, this seemed the least admissible, the most + improbable and ridiculous. After a long silence, he said to Antoinette, + “You want to frighten me—this is not serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you dislike M. Larinski?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not; I by no means dislike him. He has good manners, he speaks + well, and I must acknowledge that he had a very graceful way of taking me + from off my rock, where I should still be had it not been for him. I am + grateful to him for it; but, from that to giving him my daughter, there is + a wide margin. If he wanted me to give him a medal he should have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us talk seriously,” said she. “What objections have you to make?” + </p> + <p> + “First, M. Larinski is a stranger, and I mistrust strangers. Then, I know + him but slightly. I naturally demand additional information. Finally, I + own that the state of his affairs—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is the main point,” she interrupted. “He is poor; that is his + crime, which he has not disguised. How differently we think! I have some + fortune; its only advantage that I can see is that it makes me free to + marry the man I esteem, though he be poor.” + </p> + <p> + “And perhaps a little because of that very reason,” interrupted M. Moriaz, + in his turn. “Come, I entreat you, let me explain the anxieties arising + from my miserable good sense. M. Larinski has related his history to us. + Frankly, do you not think that it is rather that—what shall I say—of + an adventurer? The word shocks you—I take it back—but you must + admit that this Pole belongs to the—ambulatory family.” + </p> + <p> + “Or family of heroes,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “That is it, of wandering heroes. I wish all manner of good to heroes, + although I never have clearly discovered their use. At all events, I am + not sure that they are the best qualified men in the world to make a wife + happy, and I intend that my daughter shall be happy.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not convinced as I am that M. Larinski has a superior mind, and a + heart of gold?” + </p> + <p> + “A heart of gold! I should be glad to believe it. I have no reason to + doubt it; but many very skilful persons are deceived by false jewellery. + Ah! my dear, if you were better versed in chemistry, you would know how + easy it is to manufacture a false trinket. Formerly, after having cleaned + the piece to be gilded, a gold amalgam was applied. Now, the brass or + copper trinket is steeped in a solution of perchloride of gold and + bicarbonate of potash, and in less than a minute the thing is + accomplished. It is called gilding by immersion. There is another process + in which galvanism—But let us admit that M. Larinski’s heart is real + gold. In the purest gold there is usually some alloy, to dispense with + which resort must be had to the cupel. Do you not know what a cupel is? It + is a small capsule or cup of a porous substance, used in the refining + process, and possessing the property of absorbing the fused oxides and + retaining the refined metal. What is the proportion of lead or of gold ore + in M. Larinski’s heart? Neither you nor I know.” + </p> + <p> + She was no longer listening; her chin in her hand, her glances wandered + over the glade. He touched her arm gently to rouse her, and said: “It is + all over? You love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why will you make me say so?” she replied, blushing. + </p> + <p> + “And he has declared himself? He has dared——” + </p> + <p> + “He has dared nothing. Ah! how little you know him! If you were to offer + me to him, his pride would say no, and I would have to go down on my knees + to get the better of his refusal.” + </p> + <p> + “We will say, at once, that he is unique, that he is a marvel, that there + is not a second Pole like him; the mould has been broken. And yet are you + sure that he loves you?” + </p> + <p> + She replied by a motion of the head. + </p> + <p> + “I should confess,” he resumed, “that the passion that is called the grand + passion is for me a sealed letter, the mystery of mysteries. I am + completely ignorant of it. Yet that did not prevent my marrying, and + making a choice that brought me great happiness. Your method is different, + and I must believe that you have yielded to an irresistible force. It + seems to me, however, that resistance can always be made. You have will, + character—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him, murmuring, “It is either he or no one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if it comes to that,” he continued, “you are of age, and mistress of + your actions; there is nothing for me but to submit. Still, it will be + painful to you, I like to believe, to marry in opposition to my wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you doubt it? I am willing not to marry.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad solution! It is worse than the other. Let us come to terms. The + positive has its place only in science. It is absolutely true that borax + is a salt composed of boracic acid and soda. Beyond such facts all is + uncertain. Does this happy man surmise the sentiments he has inspired?” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you that you do not know him? Do you take him for a coxcomb? When + he came this morning to announce his departure, his serious intention was + to bid us an eternal farewell, and never to see me again.” + </p> + <p> + “A most excellent idea that,” sighed M. Moriaz. “Unfortunately, you + represented to him that it took but two hours to go from Paris to + Cormeilles.” + </p> + <p> + “I had trouble to persuade him of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, since the matter stands thus, nothing is yet lost. You know, my + dear, that my physician advised me to beware of abrupt transitions, and + not to change too suddenly from the keen air of Engadine to the heavy + atmosphere of the plains. On leaving Saint Moritz, we will descend five + hundred metres lower, and remain three weeks at Churwalden; consequently, + we will not be in Paris for a month. You will employ this month in + somewhat calming your imagination. It is very easy for it to become + excited in these mountain-holes, without taking into account the + wearisomeness of hotel-life. From the very day after our arrival you took + a dislike to the paper in our little <i>salon</i>, and its squares, I + confess, are very ugly. In every square, a thrush stretching out its neck + to peck a currant. Two hundred thrushes and two hundred currants—it + was enough to weary you to death. Suddenly there appears a Pole—” + </p> + <p> + “The thrushes had nothing to do with it,” she replied, smiling. “A month + hence I shall say as I do to-day. ‘It is either he or no one.’ And you + shall choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not repeat that formula, I beg. Fixed resolves are the prison-house of + the will. Promise me to reflect; reflection is an excellent thing. One + thing more—grant me in advance what I am going to ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is granted.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a godmother—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! now we are coming to the point,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot deny that Mme. De Lorcy is a woman of the world, a woman of + good sense, a woman of experience, who is deeply interested in your + welfare—” + </p> + <p> + “And who has decided from time immemorial, that I can only be happy on + condition that I marry her nephew, M. Camille Langis.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I admit that she is partial. That is no reason why we should not + send her our Pole. She will inspect him, she will tell us her opinion; it + will be a new element in the argument.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I know her opinion without asking it. This woman of experience and + good sense is incapable of recognising merit in a man who is sufficiently + impertinent to make Mlle. Moriaz love him, without having at least fifty + thousand livres a year to offer her.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter? We will let her speak—we need not question + her, an oracle; but she knows false jewellery. If she discover—” + </p> + <p> + “I would require proofs,” she interrupted, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “And if she furnish them?” + </p> + <p> + She was silent an instant, then she said: “Let it be so; do as you + please.” + </p> + <p> + With these words they ended the conversation; then arose, and retook the + road to Saint Moritz. M. Moriaz scarcely had reached there, when he + entered a carriage to drive to Cellarina, provided with a portfolio given + him by Antoinette. He found M. Larinski busy strapping his trunks, and + waiting for the mail-coach that made the journey between Samaden and Chur + by the Col du Julier. + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz expressed his regret at having missed his visit, and asked if he + would consent to charge himself with a commission for his daughter, who + desired to send to her godmother, Mme. De Lorcy, a sketch of Saint Moritz. + </p> + <p> + “Cheerfully,” coldly replied Count Abel, and he promised, so soon as he + reached Paris, to send the portfolio to Maisons Lafitte. + </p> + <p> + “Do better than that,” rejoined M. Moriaz, “and carry your good-nature so + far as to take it yourself to its address. Mme. de Lorcy is an amiable + woman, who will be charmed to make your acquaintance, and hear from you of + us.” + </p> + <p> + The count bowed with a submissive air. There was so little ardour in this + submission that M. Moriaz queried if his daughter had not been dreaming, + if M. Larinski was as much in love with her as she fancied. He had not + read the anonymous letter; Antoinette had refrained from even mentioning + it to him. + </p> + <p> + He was returning to Saint Moritz, when he met midway a pedestrian, who, + lost in thought, neither looked at him nor recognised him. M. Moriaz + ordered the coachman to stop, sprang out of the carriage, went up to the + traveller whom he seized by both shoulders, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “What, you! you again! I can go nowhere in Grisons without meeting you. I + ask as I did at Chur, ‘Where do you come from?’” + </p> + <p> + “Did you think I would stay there forever?” rejoined M. Camille Langis, + reproachfully. “You have not kept your word, you have forgotten me; you + did not write to me. I am tired of waiting, so here I am.” + </p> + <p> + “And where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Hotel Badrutt, to plead my own cause, because my advocate has + failed me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you have chosen an excellent time,” cried M. Moriaz; “you have a real + genius for arriving in season. Go, hurry, plead, moan, weep, entreat; you + will be well received; you can come and tell me all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked Camille; “is it all over? Have you spoken, and + did she silence you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; she listened to me, without enthusiasm, it is true, but with + attention and deference, when suddenly—Ah! my poor friend, how can + it be helped? This sad world is full of accidents and Poles.” + </p> + <p> + M. Langis looked at him in amazement, as if to ask for an explanation. M. + Moriaz continued: “Do yourself justice. You are the most honest fellow + upon earth, I grant; you are a charming man, and an engineer of the + highest merit. But, unfortunately, there is no mystery of blood and tears + in your existence; you are perfectly unpretending, frank, unaffected, and + as transparent as crystal; in short, you are not a stranger. Had you a + delicate, blond, and romantic mother, and do you wear her portrait on your + heart? have you unfathomable green eyes? have you adventures to relate? + have you visited California? have you swept the streets of San Francisco? + have you exchanged bullets with the Cossacks? have you been killed in + three combats and in ten skirmishes? I fear you have not even thought of + dying once. Have you tried all professions, without succeeding in one? + have you invented a gun which burst? and, above all, are you as poor as a + church-mouse? What! is it possible that you possess none of these fine + advantages, and yet are audacious enough to ask me for my daughter’s + hand?” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz ended this harangue as the Samaden mail-coach passed. Count + Abel, seated on the outside, bowed and waved his hand to them. + </p> + <p> + “Look well at that man,” said M. Moriaz to Camille, “for he is the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + And then, instead of giving him the remaining information that the youth + desired, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Go away and forget; it is the best thing that you can do.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know me yet,” replied Camille. “I am obstinate, I fire to the + last cartridge. I will follow your steps. Oh! don’t be afraid, I will lie—deceive + Antoinette; let her think that I have relinquished my claims. I shall pay + her only a friendly visit; but my eyes hunger to see her, and I will see + her.” + </p> + <p> + The morning of the following day the enemy arrived at Chur, whence he + proceeded to Berne. Deponent saith not why he failed to turn aside at + Soleure, as he had expressed his intention of doing in order to pay + tribute there to the memory of the great Kosciuszko. The facts of the case + are, that from Berne he went direct to Lausanne, and that immediately on + reaching there he hastened to the Saxon Casino. When he seated himself at + the gaming-table, he experienced a violent palpitation of the heart. His + ears tingled, his brain was on fire, and the cold sweat started out on his + forehead. He cast fierce glances right and left; he seemed to see in his + partner’s eyes his past, his future, and Mlle. Moriaz life-size. Fortune + made amends for the harshness she had shown him at Milan. After a night of + anguish and many vicissitudes, at daybreak Count Abel had twenty thousand + francs in his pocket. It was sufficient to pay his debts, which he was + anxious to do, and to enable him to await without too much impatience the + moment for executing his projects. + </p> + <p> + He left the casino, his face flushed and radiant; he was so joyful that he + became tender and affectionate, and, had M. Guldenthal himself come in his + way, he could have embraced him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Although he had said nothing about it to Mlle. Moriaz in narrating to her + his voyages and Odysseys, Count Abel was already acquainted with Paris, + having made several long sojourns there. This may seem improbable. Gone in + his early youth to America, he had not recrossed the ocean until he + returned to fight in Poland; since then he had lived in Roumania and + Vienna. Where, then, had he found time to visit France? Certain it is, + however, that he was at home on the boulevard, and that he knew well the + streets that led to the places where Paris amuses itself; but he had no + thoughts now for amusements. Notwithstanding the fact that his purse was + full, he proposed to live a retired and austere life. He found suitable + apartments in one of the lodging-houses of Rue Mont-Thabor. These + apartments, on the fifth floor, were pleasant but modest; they consisted + of two rooms having a view of the chestnut-trees in the garden of the + Tuileries. The portress was a nice woman, whose good-will Count Abel + gained on the very first day. He considered it useful, in the affairs of + this world, to be at peace with both conscience and portress. + </p> + <p> + After getting installed in his garret his first care was to write to M. + Moses Guldenthal. He informed him that he was ready to refund interest and + capital, and he commissioned him to pay off some trifling debts that he + had left in Vienna; he also desired him to send him the bracelet, which he + hoped to make use of. He felt a genuine relief in the thought that he owed + no man anything, that his condition was clear and transparent. When a man + is proud he likes to be out of debt, and when he is clever he foresees all + possible contingencies. His second care was to go to the Passage de + l’Opera and buy a bouquet for sixty francs, which he carried to No. 27 Rue + Mouffetard. He had one of those memories that retain everything and let + nothing escape them. This bouquet—the most beautiful Mlle. Galet + ever had received—caused her great astonishment. She did not know to + whom to attribute it, the modest donor having escaped from the effusions + of her gratitude by not making himself known. She supposed that Mlle. + Moriaz had sent it to her, and, as she had taste for composition, she + wrote to her a four page letter of thanks. + </p> + <p> + Count Abel had not forgotten that he was the bearer of a commission from + Mlle Moriaz. A few days after his arrival, he decided to go to Maisons, + but to take the longest route there; he wanted to see Cormeilles in + passing, and a certain villa in which he was particularly interested. He + went in the Argenteuil cars, got out at Sannois, climbed that pretty hill + that commands the loveliest of views, and stopped at the inn of Trouillet + mills in order to breakfast there. The morning was charming—it was + in the middle of August—and the approach of autumn was already felt, + which enhances the beauty of all things. The sky was flecked with small + gray clouds; a light, silvery mist hung on the brow of the hills; in two + places the Seine appeared glittering in the sunshine. Abel breakfasted in + the open air; while eating he gazed on the sky and on the great + garden-plain extending at his feet, covered with vegetables, grape-vines, + and asparagus, interspersed with fruit-trees. The wooded hills bordering + it formed an admirable frame. In his present mood Count Larinski was + charmed with the landscape, which was at once grand and smiling. Then he + questioned himself as to how much a bed of asparagus would yield at the + gates of Paris, and, having finished his calculation, he surveyed with the + eye of a poet the heather and broom that surrounded him. He decided that + the Sannois Hill is more beautiful than Koseg; and indeed it is not + necessary to be in love with Mlle. Moriaz to hold that opinion. + </p> + <p> + After having had a good breakfast, he again set out, following the crest + of the hill and going through the woods. As he approached Cormeilles, he + saw in the distance, beyond a grove of oaks, the white walls of a pretty + villa. His heart beat faster, and by a sort of divination he said within + himself, “That must be it.” He inquired; he had made no mistake. Five + minutes later he stood before a railing, through which he saw a green + lawn. At the entrance of the porter’s lodge a woman sat knitting. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me where M. Moriaz lives?” asked Count Larinski. + </p> + <p> + “Here, monsieur,” she replied; “but M. Moriaz is absent; he will not + return for a month. If you come from a distance, monsieur,” she added, + graciously, “perhaps you would like to rest awhile on the terrace. The + view is beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + This hospitable reception seemed a good omen, for, sensible as he was, he + believed in presentiments and prognostics. He entered without waiting to + be urged. When he had crossed the lawn he stood facing two detached + buildings, separated by a mass of verdure: to the right, an old + summer-house, used from time immemorial for M. Moriaz’s collections, + laboratory, and library; to the left, a new two-story house, part stone, + part brick, built in an elegant but unobtrusive style, without ornament or + pretension, and flanked by a turret covered with ivy and clematis, which + served for a dove-cote. The house was not a palace, but there was an air + about it of well-being, comfort, and happiness. In looking at it you felt + like saying, “The inmates here ought to be happy!” This was about what + Count Abel said to himself; in fact, he could hardly refrain from + exclaiming, “Dieu! how happy I shall be here!” The situation, the terrace, + the garden, everything pleased him infinitely. It seemed to him that the + air here was fresher, more delightful than elsewhere, that it was + exhilarating in the extreme; it seemed to him that the grass on the lawn + was greener than any grass he ever had seen before, that the flowers in + the carefully tended borders exhaled an unusually delicious perfume. He + espied an open window on the ground-floor. He drew near it; the room into + which he gazed, full of <i>bric-a-brac</i> of exquisite choice, was Mlle. + Moriaz’s study. There was in the appearance of this little sanctuary, hung + with white silken drapery, and as elegant as the divinity whose favourite + tarrying-place it was, something of purity, chastity, and maidenliness. It + opened its windows to the fresh breezes and to the perfume of the flowers; + but it seemed as if nothing could penetrate there that was coarse or + suspicious; that the entrance was forbidden to all doubtful or malignant + beings who might have a secret crime to hide, to all pilgrims through life + who had travelled its highways and had brought hence dust and mud on the + soles of their shoes. Strange to say, Count Abel experienced an attack of + timidity and embarrassment. He felt that he was indiscreet; he averted his + eyes and went away. + </p> + <p> + This impression was soon dispelled. He regained his assurance, and walked + around the terrace twice, treading the gravel with the step of a + conqueror, making it feel the full weight of his foot. He finally seated + himself on a bench; he had the nonchalant attitude of a man who is at + home. Five or six doves were billing and cooing on the ledge of the roof; + he could readily understand that they were talking of him, and that they + were saying, “Here he is—we have been waiting for him.” A beautiful + Angora cat, white as snow, with delicate nose and silky hair, came, + arching her back and waving her bushy tail, from out a grove, and advanced + towards him. She examined him curiously an instant, rubbed herself against + the bench, and then sat coquettishly at the feet of the intruder. He + caressed her, saying: “You are as white and graceful as your mistress; you + are an intelligent animal; you understand, my dear, that I come from her. + Shall I tell you a secret? She loves Count Abel Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he rose and left, after thanking the portress, who would + have been extremely astonished had she been aware of the reflections that + had just been occupying his mind. He went a short distance on the highway, + then finding, to the right, a road that led to Cormeilles, he took it, but + soon struck into a path that wound through the woods. He was sorry to + leave a spot that spoke vividly to his heart, and even more so to his + imagination. He seated himself on the turf, in the midst of a grove of + oaks; around him stretched a blooming heath. Through an opening in the + grove, he could see Saint-Germain, its forests, and the Seine glittering + in the sunshine, with the two bridges of Maisons Lafitte spanning it with + their arches. Through another opening he caught a glimpse, to his left, of + the proud bastions of Mont-Valerien, and, in the distance, Paris, the Arc + de l’Etoile, the gilt dome of the Invalides, and the smoke of the + factories rising slowly in the air, then by turns remaining stiff and + motionless, or being swept away by the wind. + </p> + <p> + The place was retired, solitary, very still. No sound was to be heard save + the singing of a lark, and at intervals the melancholy cry of a peacock. + Abel Larinski was overcome by a mysterious emotion; he felt a voluptuous + languor steal through his veins. He watched the smoke over Paris, and he + saw floating in it an ethereal form whose face was partly concealed by a + red hood. It smiled on him, and he read in this smile a promise of all the + joys of the land of Canaan. + </p> + <p> + He turned away his eyes, partially closing them, and there appeared + another form to him—in truth, very different from the first. It was + that of a man whom he had known intimately, of a man whom he had deeply + loved. In vain the lark sang aloud, in vain the peacock wailed—Abel + Larinski no longer heard them. He was thinking of a certain Samuel Brohl; + he was reviewing in his mind all the history of this Samuel, a man who + never had had a secret from him. This history was quite as sad a one as + that of Abel Larinski, but much less brilliant, much less heroic. Samuel + Brohl prided himself neither on being a patriot nor a paladin; his mother + had not been a noble woman with the smile of an angel, and the thought + never had occurred to him of fighting for any cause or any person. He was + not a Pole, although born in a Polish province of the Austrian Empire. His + father was a Jew, of German extraction, as indicated by his name, which + signifies a place where one sinks in the mire, a bog, swamp, or something + of that nature; and he kept a tavern in a wretched little market-town near + the eastern frontier of Galicia—a forlorn tavern, a forlorn + tavern-keeper. Although always on the alert to sell adulterated brandy to + his neighbour, and to seize the opportunity to lend him money on usury, he + did not thrive: he was a coward of whose timidity every one took advantage + to make him disgorge his ill-gotten gains. His creed consisted in three + doctrines: he firmly believed that the arts of lying well, of stealing + well, and of receiving a blow in the face without apparently noticing it, + were the most useful arts to human life; but, of the three, the last was + the only one that he practised successfully. His intentions were good, but + his intellect deficient. This arrant rogue was only a petty knave that any + one could dupe. + </p> + <p> + Abel Larinski transported himself, in thought, to the tavern in which + Samuel Brohl had spent his first youth, and which was as familiar to him + as though he had lived there himself. The smoky hovel rose before him: he + could smell the odour of garlic and tallow; he could see the drunken + guests—some seated round the long table, others lying under it—the + damp and dripping walls, and the rough, dirty ceiling. He remembered a + panel in the wainscoting against which a bottle had been broken, in the + heat of some dispute; it had left a great stain of wine that resembled a + human face. He remembered, too, the tavern-keeper, a little man with a + dirty, red beard, whose demeanour was at once timid and impudent. He saw + him as he went and came, then saw him suddenly turn, lift the end of his + caftan and wipe his cheek on it. What had happened? An insolvent debtor + had spit in his face; he bore it smilingly. This smile was more repulsive + to Count Abel than the great stain that resembled a human face. + </p> + <p> + “Children should be permitted to choose their fathers,” he thought. And + yet this poor Samuel Brohl came very near living as happy and contented in + the paternal mire as a fish in water. Habit and practice reconcile one + even to dirt; and there are people who eat and digest it. What made Samuel + Brohl think of reading Shakespeare? Poets are corrupters. + </p> + <p> + The way it happened was this. Samuel had picked up, somewhere, a volume + which had dropped from a traveller’s pocket. It was a German translation + of <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>. He read it, and did not understand it; + he reread it, and ended by understanding it. It produced a wild confusion + of ideas in his mind; he thought that he was becoming insane. Little by + little, the chaos became less tumultuous; order began to reign, light to + dawn. Samuel Brohl felt that he had had a film over his eyes, and that it + was now removed. He saw things that he never had seen before, and he felt + joy mingled with terror. He learned <i>The Merchant of Venice</i> by + heart. He shut himself up in the barn, so that he might cry out with + Shylock: “Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, + senses, affections, passions? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you + tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you + wrong us, shall we not revenge?” He repeated, too, with Lorenzo: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven + Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold. + There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st + But in his motion like an angel sings, + Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: + Such harmony is in immortal souls; + But whilst this muddy vesture of decay + Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.” + </pre> + <p> + Samuel sometimes rose at night to watch the heavens, and he fancied he + heard the voices of the “young-eyed cherubins.” He dreamed of a world + where Jessicas and Portias were to be met, of a world where Jews were as + proud as Shylock, as vindictive as Shylock, and, as Shylock, ate the + hearts of their enemies for revenge. He also dreamed, poor fool, that + there was in Samuel Brohl’s mind or bosom an immortal soul, and that in + this soul there was music, but that he could not hear it because the muddy + vesture of decay too grossly closed it in. Then he experienced a feeling + of disgust for Galicia, for the tavern, for the tavern-keeper, and for + Samuel Brohl himself. An old schoolmaster, who owned a harpsichord, taught + him to play on it, and, believing he was doing good, lent him books. One + day, Samuel modestly expressed to his father a desire to go to the + gymnasium at Lemberg to learn various things that seemed good to him to + know. It was then that he received from the paternal hand a great blow, + which made him see all the stars of heaven in broad daylight. Old Jeremiah + Brohl had taken a dislike to his son Samuel Brohl, because he thought he + saw something in his eyes that seemed to say that Samuel despised his + father. + </p> + <p> + “Poor devil!” murmured Count Abel, picking up a pebble and tossing it into + the air. “Fate owes him compensation, it has dealt so roughly with him + thus far. He fell from the frying-pan into the fire; he exchanged his + servitude for a still worse slavery. When he left the land of Egypt, he + fancied he saw the palms of the promised land. Alas! it was not long + before he regretted Egypt and Pharaoh! Why was not this woman Portia? why + was she neither young nor beautiful?” And he added: “Ah! old fairy, you + made him suffer!” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Count Larinski that this woman, this ugly fairy who had made + Samuel Brohl suffer so much, stood there, before him, and that she scanned + him from head to foot, as a fairy, whether old or young, might scan a + worm. She had an imperious, contemptuous smile on her lips, the smile of a + czarina; so Catharine II smiled, when she was dissatisfied with Potemkin, + and said to herself, “I made him what he is, and to-morrow I can ruin + him.” “Yes, it was she, it was surely she,” thought Count Larinski. “I + cannot mistake. I saw her five weeks ago, in the Vallee du Diable; she + made me tremble!” + </p> + <p> + This woman who had taken Samuel Brohl from out of the land of Egypt, and + had showered attentions upon him, was a Russian princess. She owned an + estate of Podolia, and chance would have it that one day, in passing, she + stopped at the tavern where young Samuel was growing up in the shadow of + the tabernacle. He was then sixteen. In spite of his squalid rags, she was + struck by his figure. She was a woman of intelligence, and had no + prejudices. “When he is well washed and cared for,” she thought, “when he + is divested of his native impurities, when he has seen the world and had + communication with honest people, he certainly will be a noble fellow.” + She made him talk, and found him intelligent; she liked intelligent men. + She made him sing, assured herself that he had a voice; she adored music. + She questioned him; he told her all his misery, and while he talked she + said to herself: “No, I do not mistake; he has a future before him; in two + or three years he will be superb. Three years is not long: the gardener + who grafts a young tree is often condemned to wait longer than that.” When + he had ended his narrative, she told him that she was in want of a + secretary, that she had had several, but that she had soon tired of them, + on account of their not having the desired qualifications; she asked him + if he would like to accept the position. He replied only by pointing his + finger to his father, who was smoking his pipe on the door-step. A moment + later she was closeted with Jeremiah Brohl. + </p> + <p> + She at once proposed to him to buy his son; he dropped his arms in + astonishment, then felt delighted and charmed. He declared, at first, that + his son was not for sale; and then he insinuated that if ever he did sell + him he would sell him dear; he was, according to his opinion, merchandise + of the best quality, a rich and rare article. He raised his demands + ridiculously; she exclaimed; he affirmed he could not put them lower, that + he had his terms, and that he always sold at a fixed price. They disputed + a long time; she was about to give up; he yielded, and they ended by + making the transaction. She sent for Samuel and said to him: “My boy, you + belong to me—I have bought you for cash. You are satisfied with the + bargain, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + He was stupefied to learn that he had a commercial value; he never had + suspected it. He wanted very much to know what he was worth; but the + princess was discreet upon the subject, and desired that he should believe + that he had cost her a fabulous sum. After reflection, he made his + conditions; he stipulated that he should belong to himself for three + years, which time he would employ in study and in satisfying a multitude + of curious longings. + </p> + <p> + She readily consented, as that had been her own intention: it would take + fully three years before the fruit was ripe and ready to be served at the + princely table. She gave him instructions and advice, all bearing the + stamp of a superior mind; she understood the world, the state of public + affairs, and physiology, all that can be learned, and all that cannot be + learned. Thus Samuel Brohl set out, his pocket well filled, for the + University of Prague, which he soon left to settle at Heidelberg, whence + he went to Bonn, then to Berlin, then to Paris. He was restless, he did + not know what he wanted, but wherever he went he studied semiquavers, + naturals, and flats; it was part of the conditions. + </p> + <p> + The princess was herself a great traveller; two or three times a year + Samuel Brohl received a visit from her. She questioned him, examined him, + felt him, as we feel a peach to be certain it is ripe. Samuel was very + happy; he was free, he enjoyed his life, he did as he pleased. One single + thing spoiled his happiness; when he looked in the glass, he would + sometimes say within himself: “These are the features of a man who is + sold, and the woman who bought him is neither young nor beautiful.” + Several times he determined to learn a trade, so that he might be in a + position to refund the debt and break the bargain. But he never did. He + was both ambitious and idle. He wanted to fly at once; he had a horror of + beginnings of apprenticeships. His early education had been so neglected + that in order to recover lost time he would have been compelled to study + hard—all the more so because, although he was quick-witted, and had + a marvellous facility for entering into the thoughts of others, his own + stock was poor; he had no ideas of his own, nor individuality of mind. He + possessed a collection of half-talents; even in music, he was incapable of + originating; when he attempted to compose, his inspirations proved mere + reminiscences. He did himself justice; he felt that, strive as he might, + his half-talents never would aid him to secure the first position, and he + disdained the second. In fact, what he most needed was will, which, after + all, makes the man. He tried to fling himself from his horse, which + carried him where he did not desire to go; but he felt that his feet held + firm in the stirrup; he had not strength to disengage them, and he + remained in the saddle. Not being able to be a great man, he abandoned + himself to his fate, which condemned him to be only a knave. At the + expiration of his term of freedom, he declared himself solvent, and the + princess took possession of her merchandise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, poets are corrupters,” thought Count Abel Larinski. “If Samuel Brohl + never had read <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>, or <i>Egmont</i>, a tragedy + in five acts, or Schiller’s ballads, he would have been resigned to his + new position; he would have seen its good sides, and would have eaten and + drunk his shame in peace, without experiencing any uncomfortable + sensations; but he had read the poets, and he grew disgusted, nauseated. + He was dying with desire to get away, and the princess suspected it. She + kept him always in sight, she held him close, she paid him quarterly, + shilling by shilling, his meagre allowance. She said to herself: ‘So long + as he has nothing, he cannot escape.’ She mistook; he did escape, and he + was so afraid of being retaken that for some time he hid like a criminal, + pursued by the police. He fancied that this woman was always on his track. + It was then, for the first time, that he felt hunger, for they eat in the + land of Egypt. He lived by all sorts of expedients, and cursed the poets. + One day he learned that his father was dead; he hastened to the old tavern + in order to succeed to the inheritance. He was not aware that for two + years old Jeremiah Brohl had been in his dotage, and that his debtors + mocked him while devouring his substance. A fine inheritance! it was + diminished to two or three rickety chairs, four cracked walls that + scarcely could stand upright, and some jewellery concealed in a + hiding-place that Samuel knew of. Old Jeremiah never had been able to + dispose of it for the price he required, and he preferred to keep it + rather than lower his charge. He had principles, which was well for + Samuel, as the jewellery was useful to him. He sold a necklace, and set + out for Bucharest, some one having told him that he certainly would make + his fortune there. He gave music-lessons; this wearisome profession did + not suit him, he could not endure the constraint and the regular hours. + The boys plagued him—he would willingly have wrung their necks; the + girls treated him like a dog—they never thought of his being + handsome, because they suspected him of being a Jew. Why had he gone to + Bucharest—a city where all Germans are Jews, and where Jews are not + considered men? Although he had earned a little money, he grew melancholy, + and he began to think seriously of killing himself.” + </p> + <p> + Count Abel Larinski leaned forward, plucked a spray of heather, tickled + his lips with it, and began to laugh; then, striking his breast, he said, + in an undertone, “Thank God, Samuel Brohl is not dead, for he is here!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the truth: Samuel Brohl was not dead, and life was of value to + him, since he had met Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz in the cathedral in Chur. It + was Samuel Brohl who had come to Cormeilles, and who was seated, at this + moment, in the midst of a grove of oaks. Perhaps the lark that he had + heard singing a quarter of an hour before had recognised him, for it had + ceased singing. The peacock continued its screaming, and its doleful cries + sounded like a warning. Yes, the man seated among the heather, employed in + narrating his own history to himself, was indeed Samuel Brohl, and the + proof of this was that he had laughed, while Count Abel Larinski never + laughed; moreover, for four years the latter had been out of the world. + The second reason is, perhaps, the better. + </p> + <p> + He whom, with or without his consent, we shall call henceforth Samuel + Brohl, reproached himself for this access of levity, as he would have + reproached himself for a false note that had escaped him in executing a + Mozart sonata. He resumed his grave, dignified air, in order to salute + with a wave of his hand the phantom that had just appeared before him. It + was the same that he had summoned one evening at the Hotel Steinbock, and + treated there as an addle-brain, as a visionary, and even as an imbecile; + but this time he gave him a more indulgent and gracious reception. He bore + him no ill-will, he wished him well, he was under essential obligations to + him, and Samuel Brohl was no ingrate. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, my poor friend, I am here,” he said, in that mute language that + phantoms understand. “I have taken your place, and almost your form; I + play your part in the great fair of this world, and, although your noble + body has rested for four years, six feet underground, thanks to me you + still live. I always have had a most sincere admiration for you. I + considered you a phenomenon, a prodigy. You were courageous, devoted, + generosity itself; you esteemed honour above all the gold deposits in + California; you detested all coarse thoughts and doubtful actions; your + mother had nourished you in all sublime follies. You were a true + chevalier, a true Pole, the last Don Quixote in this age of sceptics, + plunderers, and interlopers. Blessed be the chance that made us + acquainted! You lived retired, solitary, unknown, in a miserable hovel + just outside of Bucharest. So goes the world! You were in hiding—you + who had nothing to hide from either God or man—you who deserved a + crown. Alas! the Russian Government had the poor taste not to appreciate + your exploits, and you feared that it would claim and obtain your + extradition. At our first meeting I pleased you, and you took me into your + friendship; I spoke Polish, and you loved music. I became your intimate + friend, your sole companion, your confidant. You must grant that you owe + to me the last happy moments of your short existence. I soon knew your + origin, the history of your youth, of your enterprises, and of your + misfortunes. You initiated me into the secret of the great invention that + you had just made; you explained to me in detail the mechanism of your + famous gun. I was intelligent; I understood, or thought I understood. This + gun, you said, would one day make my fortune, for, on your own account, + you had renounced all hope; you had heart-disease, and you knew that you + were condemned to a speedy end. My imagination was kindled. Through my + entreaty you decided to leave with me for Vienna. This expedition was + fatal to you, but I swear to you I did not foresee it.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel crossed his hands on his knee; then he continued: “May my tongue + cleave to the roof of my mouth, may my blood cease to flow in my veins, + may the marrow dry up in my bones, if ever I forget to be grateful for + what I owe to you, Abel Larinski, or cease to remember the forlorn hovel + in which we passed the first night of our journey! You were attacked by + suffocation. You had only time to call and wake me. I hastened to you. You + gave me, in a dying voice, your last instructions. You delivered into my + hands your last fifty florins, which were as acceptable as an orange would + have been to the shipwrecked passengers of the Medusa. Then you pointed + with your finger to a box, in which were inclosed family relics, letters, + your journal, and papers. You said: ‘Destroy all that; Poland is dead, let + no one remember that I have lived!’ After that you breathed your last. + Well! I confess that I did not fulfil your orders. I kept your mother’s + portrait, the papers, all; and, in announcing your decease to the police, + I made them believe that the man who was dead was named Samuel Brohl, and + that Count Larinski still lived. What would you have me do? The temptation + was too great. Samuel Brohl had disgraceful antecedents, he was base-born, + he had been sold; there was a stain on his past that never could be wiped + away, and, as he had had the misfortune to read the poets, it had come + about that he often despised himself. It was, indeed, time that he should + be thrown into the shade, and my joy was extreme to know that he was dead, + and to feel that I was alive. As soon as I succeeded in persuading myself + that I was indeed Count Abel Larinski, I was as happy as a child whose + parents have dressed him in new clothes, and who struts about to show + them. With your name I acquired a noble past; in thought, I roamed through + it with delight; I visited its every nook and corner, as a poor devil + would make the circuit of a park that he has just come to inherit. You + bequeathed me your relations, your adventures, your exploits. When you + fought for your country, I was there; when you received a gun-shot-wound + near Dubrod, it was into my flesh that the bullet penetrated. Of what do + you complain? Between friends is not everything in common? I left my own + skin, I entered yours; I was satisfied there, and desired to remain. + To-day I resemble you in everything; I assure you that if we were seen + together it would be difficult to tell us apart. I have assumed your + habits, your manners, your language, the poise of your head, your playful + melancholy, your pride, your opinions, all, even to the colour of your + hair and your handwriting. Abel Larinski, I have become you: I mistake, I + am more Pole, more Larinski, than you were yourself.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Samuel Brohl had a singular expression of countenance; his + gaze was fixed. He was no longer of this world—he conversed with a + spirit; but he was neither terrified nor awed, as was Hamlet in talking to + the shade of his father. He treated familiarly the shade of the true Abel + Larinski; it was precisely as we treat a partner that has transacted + business with us in the same firm. + </p> + <p> + “It is very true, my dear Abel,” he continued, “that the principle of + partnership accomplishes wonders; one man alone is a small affair. But, of + all partnerships, the most useful and convenient is the one that we have + made together. The living and the dead can render each other important + services, and they never quarrel. You should be satisfied; you play a fine + role; you are the signature of the house. We will not speak of your gun; + that was a poor speculation, for which I scarcely can pardon you. It was + the fault of your disordered brain that we wandered off on that bypath, + but, thanks be to Heaven! we have at last gained the highway. Five weeks + ago we met a woman, and what a woman! She has velvety-brown eyes, whence + glances well forth like fresh and living waters. To praise her grace + properly, I must borrow the language of the ‘Song of Solomon’: ‘Thy lips, + O my spouse! drop as the honey-comb; honey and milk are under thy tongue; + and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon. This thy + stature is like to a palm-tree. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no + spot in thee. A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse: a spring shut up—a + fountain sealed.’ Some day she will cry out, with the Shulamite, ‘Let my + beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.’ She belongs to + us, my dear Larinski—my dear partner; she had yielded, and you and I + share the honour of the victory. I presented myself before her, and my + presence did not displease her. I related to her your history, as you + would have related it yourself, with delicacy and simplicity, neither + adding nor omitting. Her heart was touched; her heart was taken captive. + You will wed her—she will bear your name; but you will marry her by + proxy, and I shall be your proctor. I promise to consider myself your + mandatory, or, to express it better, you will own the property and I will + have the usufruct. Never fear that I shall forget what I owe to you, or + the modesty proper to my estate.” + </p> + <p> + At these words, he made a grand gesture, as if to banish the phantom that + he had conjured up, and that fled away trembling with sorrow, shame, and + indignation. The peacock cried anew a mournful shriek. “Stupid bird!” + thought Samuel Brohl, quaking with sudden dread. + </p> + <p> + He looked at his watch, and reflected that the hour was advancing—that + he was losing time with the spirits. He rose hastily, and wended his way + toward Cormeilles; thence he wished to come upon a sunny path that led to + the banks of the Seine, and Sartrouville, the belfry of which was plainly + visible. When he reached the foot of the declivity, he turned his head and + saw, on the summit of the hill, through the space left by the crooked + branches of two plantains, a white wall, that seemed to laugh amid the + verdure, and a little higher the pointed roof of the dove-cote, where + Mlle. Moriaz’s doves had their nests. He did not need to look long at this + roof to recognise it. He threw a burning kiss in the air—a kiss that + was sent to the doves as well as to the dove-cote—to the house as + well as to the woman—to the woman as well as the house. For the + first time in his life, Samuel Brohl was in love; but Samuel Brohl’s love + differed from Abel Larinski’s. When they adore a woman, be she as + beautiful as a picture, the frame, if it is a rich one, pleases them as + much as the painting; and they propose to possess their mistress with all + her appendages and appurtenances. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy was a woman of about fifty years of age, who still possessed + remains of beauty. She had been a widow for long years, and never had + thought of marrying again. Although her wedded life had been a happy one, + she considered that liberty is to be prized above all else; she employed + hers in a most irreproachable manner. She was self-possessed, even better + acquainted with numbers than with dress, and managed her property herself, + which was by no means a trifling thing to do. Liking to make good use of + her time, she thought to do it by busying herself in the affairs of + others. She had a real vocation for the profession of a consulting lawyer. + Usually her advice was sensible and judicious—nothing better could + be done than to follow it; only her clients complained that she pronounced + her sentences with too little tenderness, without granting any appeal. She + was good, charitable, but lacked unction, and she had no sympathy with the + illusions of others. A German poet, in making his New-Year offerings, + wishes that the rich may be kind-hearted, that the poor may have bread, + that the ladies may have pretty dresses, that the men may have patience, + that the foolish may get a little reason, and that sensible people may + grow poetic. Mme. de Lorcy was kind-hearted, she had pretty dresses and a + great deal of reason; but her reason was wanting in poetry, and poetic + people to whom she gave advice required a good deal of patience to listen + to the end. Those who permitted themselves to despise her counsel, and who + were happy after their own fashion, incurred her lasting displeasure. She + obstinately asserted to them that their seeming happiness was all a + deceit; that they had fastened a stone about their necks; and that, + without appearing to do so, at the bottom of their hearts they bitterly + repented. She added, “It is not my fault; I told you, but you would not + believe me.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy had an almost maternal affection for her nephew, M. Camille + Langis. Confident that he could not be otherwise than successful in a + love-affair, she promised him that he should marry Mlle. Moriaz. To be + sure, he was rather young; but she had decided that the question of age + made no difference, and that in all else there was a perfect fitness + between the parties. M. Langis hesitated a long time about declaring + himself. He said to Mme. de Lorcy: “If she refuse me, I shall no longer be + able to see her; and so long as I can see her, I am only half-wretched.” + It was Mme. de Lorcy who forced him to draw his sword and open the + campaign, in which she was to act as second. This campaign had not been a + successful one. Deeply wounded at the refusal, which she had in vain + attempted to prevent, she was ready to force Mlle. Moriaz into compliance. + They made her believe, to pacify her, that the sentence was not definite, + or at least that a period of grace would be granted to the condemned. M. + Langis set out for Hungary, and he had now returned. In the mean time, + Antoinette had refused two offers. Mme. de Lorcy had inferred this to be a + favourable omen for her projects. Thus she felt annoyance mingled with + anger on receiving the following letter from M. Moriaz: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR MADAME: + </p> + <p> + “You will be charmed to learn that I am extremely well. My cheeks are + full, my complexion florid, my legs as nimble as a chamois, my appetite + like that of an ogre. If ever you become anemic, which God forbid, you + should set out forthwith for Saint Moritz, and I shall soon have good news + from you. Saint Moritz is a place where you find what you want, but you + find, besides, what you do not want. I do not speak of bears; I have not + seen any, and should I meet one, I am strong enough to strangle it. + Besides, bears are taciturn animals, they never relate their histories, + and the only animals I fear are those that have the gift of narrating, and + that one is not allowed to strangle. I will say no more. Have I made + myself intelligible? You are so intelligent. + </p> + <p> + “Apropos, Antoinette sends you a sketch or a painting, I do not know + which, that will be handed to you by Count Abel Larinski. He is a Pole, of + that there can be no doubt; you will perceive it at once. I wish him well; + he was obliging enough to extricate me from a breakneck position into + which I had foolishly thrust myself. That I have a pair of legs to walk + on, and a hand to write with, I owe to him. I recommend him to your kind + reception, and I beg you to get him to relate his history. He is one of + those who narrate, not every day, it is true, but when you touch the right + spring, he starts, and cannot be stopped. Seriously, M. Larinski is no + ordinary man; you will find pleasure in his acquaintance. I have + discovered that he is in rather embarrassed circumstances. He is the son + of an emigrant, whose property has been confiscated. His father was a half + fool, who made great attempts to cut a channel through the Isthmus of + Panama, and never succeeded in cutting his way through anything. He was + himself beginning to earn money in San Francisco, when, in 1863, he gave + everything up to go and fight against the Russians. This enthusiastic + patriot has since adopted the calling of an inventor, in which he has been + unsuccessful; he is now in search of a livelihood. Do not think he will + ask for anything; he is an hidalgo; he wraps himself proudly in his + poverty, as a Castilian does in his cloak. I am interested in him; I want + to assist him, give him a lift; but, first, I wish to feel sure that he is + worthy of my sympathy. Examine him closely, sift him well; I trust your + eyes rather than my own; I have the greatest faith in your skill in this + kind of valuation. + </p> + <p> + “Antoinette sends you her most affectionate greetings. She adores Saint + Moritz; you would think that she had found something here which has + wrought a charm over her. For my own part, I am delighted to have + recovered my appetite, my sleep, and all the rest, and yet I regret having + come; can you reconcile that? Let me know as soon as possible what you + think of my Pole; but, pray do not condemn him unheard. No hasty decision, + I entreat; an expert is bound not to be influenced by his prejudices, but + to weigh his judgments as his words. Adieu, dear madame; pity me in spite + of my full cheeks.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Lorcy replied in these words, by return mail: + </p> + <p> + “You are indeed innocent, my dear professor, and your finesse is but too + apparent; I could not help understanding. Is she, indeed so foolish. I did + not think her overwise; but here she astonishes me more than I would have + believed. You can tell her, for me—or rather don’t say anything to + her; I will only speak to you, I am too angry to reason with her. I will + see your Pole, I await him resolutely; but, in truth, I have seen him + already. I am well acquainted with him, I know him by heart; I have no + doubt that he is some impostor. I will examine him without prejudice, with + religious impartiality. You are so good as to remind me that an expert + suspends his judgment. I will hold my police force in reserve, and I will + let you know before long what I think of your adventurer. Ah! yes, I do + pity you, poor man. After all, however, you alone are to blame; is it my + fault that you did not know how to act? God bless you!” + </p> + <p> + At the time when Samuel Brohl, seated amid the heather, in an oak-grove, + was conversing with phantoms, Mme. de Lorcy, alone in her <i>salon</i>, + was occupied with her needlework, and her thoughts, which revolved in a + circle, like a horse in a riding-school. She had for several days been + expecting Count Abel Larinski’s visit; she wondered at his want of + promptness, and suspected that he was afraid of her. This suspicion + pleased her. Several times she fancied she heard a man’s step in the + antechamber, at which she started nervously, and the rose-coloured strings + of her cap fluttered on her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, while she was counting her stitches, with head bent down, some + one entered without her perceiving it, seized her hand, and, devoutly + kissing it, threw his hat on the table, and then dropped into a chair, + where he remained motionless, with his legs stretched out, and his eyes + riveted on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! It is you, Camille,” exclaimed Mme. de Lorcy. “You come apropos. + Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well! yes, madame, that is it,” replied M. Langis; “and you see before + you the most unhappy of men. Why is your pond dry? I want to fling myself + into it head foremost.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy laid down her embroidery, and crossed her arms. “So you have + returned?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Would to God I never had gone there! It is a land where poison is sold, + and I have drunk of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t abuse metaphors. You have seen her? What did you say to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, madame—nothing of what is in my heart. I made her believe + that I had reflected, and changed my views; that I was entirely cured of + my foolish passion for her; that I was simply making her a friendly visit. + Yes, madame, I remained half a day with her, and during the half day I + never once betrayed myself. I convinced her that the mask was a face. Tell + me, conscientiously, have you ever read of a more heroic act in Plutarch’s + <i>Lives of Great Men</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “She herself, what did she say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “She was so enchanted, so delighted with the change, that she was dying to + embrace me.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall pay for it. And he, did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Just caught a glimpse of him, looked up to him as was befitting the + humility of my position. This fortunate man, this glorious mortal, was + enthroned on the top of the mail-coach.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he really so fascinating?” + </p> + <p> + “He has, I assure you, a certain look of deep profundity, and he bears his + exploits inscribed on his brow. What am I, to contend against him! You + must allow that I have the appearance of a school-boy. And yet, if I were + to boast. This road in Transylvania for which I had the contract was by no + means easy to construct. We had to cut through the solid rock, working in + the air, suspended by ropes. This perilous labour so disheartened our + workmen that some of them left us; to encourage the rest, I was slung up + like them, and like them handled the pickaxe. One day, in the explosion of + a charge a piece of stone struck the rope of one of my men with such + violence that it cut it as clean in two as the edge of a razor would have + done. The man fell—I believed him to be lost; by a miracle, his + clothes caught in some brushwood, to which he succeeded in clinging. It + was I who went to his assistance, and I swear to you that in this rescue I + proved the strength of my muscles, and ran the risk twenty times of + breaking my neck. The workmen had mistrusted me on account of my youth; + from that day, I can assure you, they held me in respect.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you relate this incident to Antoinette?” + </p> + <p> + “What would have been the use? With women it does not suffice to be a + great man; you must have the look of one too.” And Camille Langis cried + out, clinching his hands: “Ah! madame, I entreat you, do you know where I + can procure a Polish head, a Polish mustache, a Polish smile? Pray, where + are these articles to be had, and what is their market price? I will not + haggle! O women! what a set you are—plague on you!” + </p> + <p> + “And are aunts the same?” gravely asked Mme. de Lorcy. + </p> + <p> + He answered more calmly: “No, madame, you are a woman without an equal, + and I name you every day in my prayers. You are my only resource, my + consolation, my counsel. Do not refuse me your precious instructions! What + ought I to do?” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy gazed up at the ceiling for an instant, and then said: “Love + elsewhere, my dear; abandon this foolish girl to her fate and her Pole.” + </p> + <p> + He started and replied: “You demand what is impossible. I am no longer my + own master; she has taken possession of me—she holds me. Love + elsewhere? Can you think of it? I detest her—I curse her—but I + adore her!” + </p> + <p> + She rejoined: “You should not use hyperbole any more than metaphors. Both + are unsolid food. When you decide not to love, you will love no more.” + </p> + <p> + “That supposes that I have several hearts to choose from. I never had but + one, and that no longer belongs to me. So you refuse me your advice?” + </p> + <p> + “What advice would you have me give you before having seen M. Larinski—before + having taken the measure of this hero?” + </p> + <p> + “What! you expect to see him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting for him to call, and I am sorry he keeps me waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, will you receive this man?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been asked to examine him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am lost, if you feel the need of hearing before condemning him. Our + most sacred duty is to be resolutely unjust towards the enemies of our + friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! I shall not be indulgent towards him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do as you like; I have my plan.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall seek some groundless quarrel with this contraband, this poacher, + and I will blow his brains out.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine scheme, my dear Camille! And afterward, when you have killed him, + you will have gained a great deal. Have you confidence in me? I have + already begun to work for you. The Abbe Miollens, as you know, is well + acquainted in the society of Polish emigrants; I have sent to him for + information. I have also written to Vienna for intelligence concerning + him. Antoinette is foolish in forming such an acquaintance, it must be + admitted; but, in matters of honour, she is as delicate as an ermine in + tending the whiteness of her robe; if there be in M. Larinski’s past a + stain no larger than a ten-sou piece, she will forever discard him. Let me + act; be wise, do not blow out any one’s brains. <i>Grand Dieu!</i> what + would become of us, if the only way to get rid of people was by killing + them?” + </p> + <p> + As she pronounced these words a servant entered, bearing a card on a + silver salver. She took the card and exclaimed: “When you speak of the + wolf—Here is our man!” She begged M. Langis to retire; he implored + permission to remain, promising to be a model of discretion. She was + insisting on his leaving when Count Abel Larinski appeared. + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl had scarcely taken three steps in Mme. de Lorcy’s <i>salon</i> + before he conjectured why M. Moriaz had asked him to go there, and what + was the significance of the commission with which he was charged. + Notwithstanding the <i>salon</i> had a southern exposure, and that it was + then the middle of the month of August, it seemed to him to be cold there. + He thought that he felt a draught of chilly air, an icy wind, which + pierced him through and through, and caused him an unpleasant shiver. He + did not need to look very attentively at Mme. de Lorcy to be convinced + that he was before his judge, and that this judge was not a friendly one; + and, as soon as his gaze met that of M. Camille Langis, something warned + him that this young man was his enemy. Samuel Brohl had the gift of + observation. + </p> + <p> + He delivered his message, and handed Mme. de Lorcy the little portfolio + that contained Mlle. Moriaz’s painting, expressing his regret that + business had prevented his coming sooner. Mme. de Lorcy thanked him for + his kindness, with rather a cool politeness, and asked him for news of her + goddaughter. He did not expatiate on this topic. + </p> + <p> + “The valley of Saint Moritz is a dreary country,” she next said. + </p> + <p> + “Rather say, madame, that it is a dreary country possessing a great charm + for those who love it.” + </p> + <p> + “It appears that Mlle. Moriaz is almost wearied to death there. I should + think she would die of ennui.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think her capable of yielding to ennui in any place?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, do not doubt it; but she has recourse to her imagination to + dispel the tedium. She has a marvellous talent for procuring herself + diversion and for varying her pleasures. Hers is an imagination having + many relays: no sooner is one horse exhausted than there is another to + take its place.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a precious gift,” he replied, briefly. “I assure you, however, + that you calumniate the Engadine. The trees there are not so well grown as + those in your park; but the Alpine fir and pine have their beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “You went to this hole for your health, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and no, madame. I was not ill, but any physician contended that I + should be still better if I breathed the air of the Alps for three weeks. + It was taking a cure as a preventive.” + </p> + <p> + “M. Larinski made the ascent of the Morteratsch,” said Camille, who, + seated on a divan with his arms extended on his knees, never had ceased to + look at Samuel Brohl with a hard and hostile glance. “That is an exploit + that can be performed only by well people.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no exploit,” replied Samuel; “it is a work of patience, easy for + those who are not subject to vertigo.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too modest,” rejoined the young man. “Had I done as much, I would + sound a trumpet.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you attempted the ascent?” asked Samuel. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I do not care about having feats of prowess to relate,” he + replied, in an almost challenging tone. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy hastened to interrupt the conversation by saying, “Is this + the first time you have been in Paris, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame,” replied Samuel, who withdrew more and more into his shell. + </p> + <p> + “And does Paris please you as much as a pine-grove?” + </p> + <p> + “Much more, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any acquaintances?” + </p> + <p> + “None; and the truth is, I have no desire to make any.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you my reason? I am not fond of breaking ice, and Poles + complain that there is nothing in the world so icy as Parisian coldness.” + </p> + <p> + “That explains itself,” cried Camille. “Paris, that is Paris proper, is a + small city of a hundred thousand souls, and this small city is invaded + more and more, by strangers who come here to seek pleasure or fortune. It + is but natural that Paris should protect itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Parisians pride themselves on their penetration,” replied Samuel. “It + does not require much of it to distinguish an honest man from an + adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! permit me,” returned M. Langis, “that depends a good deal on + practice. The most skillful are deceived.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl rose and made a movement to leave. Mme. de Lorcy insisted on + his sitting down again. She saw that she had made a bad beginning in the + fulfilment of her office of examining magistrate, and of gaining the + prisoner’s confidence. Fearing that Camille, in spite of his promise, + would spoil everything by some insult, she found a pretext to send him + away; she begged that he would go and examine a pair of horses that were a + recent acquisition. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was gone, she changed her manner; she grew amiable, she + endeavoured to remove the ill impression of her first welcome; she put + Count Abel at his ease, who felt that the air lost its chilliness about + him. Without appearing to do so, she made him undergo an examination—she + asked him many questions; he replied promptly. Visitors came in; it was an + hour before he took leave, after having promised Mme. de Lorcy to dine + with her the next day. + </p> + <p> + She did not wait until then to write to M. Moriaz. Her letter was thus + conceived: + </p> + <p> + “August 16, 1875. + </p> + <p> + “You recommend me to be impartial, my dear friend. Why should I not be? It + is true that I have dreamed of a certain marriage: one of the parties + would not listen to my propositions, and the other had abandoned the idea. + My project has come to nothing. Camille has enjoined me never to speak of + it to him again. You see I am no longer interested in the question, or, + rather, I have in the matter no other interest than that which I feel for + Antoinette, whose happiness is as dear to me as it is to you. Apropos, do + not give her my letters; read to her the passages that you judge suitable + to communicate to her—I leave that to your discretion. + </p> + <p> + “First of all, let me unfold to you my humble opinions. I am charged with + having prejudices; it is a shocking calumny. I will make you a profession + of faith, and you shall judge. I am at war with more than one point of our + French morals; I deplore the habit that we have formed of considering + marriage as a business transaction, of esteeming it as a financial or + commercial partnership, and making everything subordinate to the equality + of the personal estates. This principle is revolting to me, my dear + friend. We are accused in foreign countries of being an immoral people. + Heavens! it seems to me that we understand and practise virtue quite as + much as the English or Germans, and, to speak the whole truth, I am not + afraid to advance the opinion that this, of all the countries of the + universe, is the one where there is the most virtue. It is not at that + point that we sin. Our misfortune is, that we are too rational in our + habits of life, too circumspect, too prudent; we lack boldness in our + undertakings; we wish, as it is said, to have one foot on firm land and + the other not far off. We must have security; we do not like risk; + doubtful affairs do not please us; we are too prone to look ahead, and to + look ahead is to fear. That is one reason why we send out no colonies, and + that is the reason we have no more children. Are you satisfied with me? + </p> + <p> + “Napoleon I was in the habit of saying that, in fighting a battle, he so + ordered matters as to have seventy chances out of a hundred in his favour; + he left the rest to Fate. Ah! brave people, life is a battle, but the + French of to-day will not risk anything. They are the most honest, the + least romantic of men, and I regret it. Read Antoinette this passage of my + letter. Our young people think that they have a right to the paternal + fortune; they consider that their father is wanting in his duty if he does + not leave them a settled position, a certain future. Their second + preconceived notion is that they must find a wife who will bring them as + much at least as they have to offer her. I have so much, you have so much—we + are evidently created for each other; let us marry. All this is + deplorable. I like better to hear of the young American who only expects + from his parents the education necessary for a man to make his way; he has + his tools given to him and the method of using them, but not a sou. You + have learned to swim, my friend—swim. After that he marries, most + frequently a woman who has nothing, and who loves to spend money. May the + God Dollar protect him! he will gaily make an opening for himself in life, + and his wife will give him ten children, who will follow the same course + as their father. Where it is customary for hunger to marry thirst, there + are happy marriages, and a hardy race of people. In all conscience, am I + not romantic enough? + </p> + <p> + “Let me consider another case. Take a man who has fortune: he profits + thereby to consult his heart only, and offer his name and revenues to the + woman he loves and who has no dower. I clap my hands, I think it the best + of examples, and I regret that it is so seldom practised among us. In + France princes never are seen marrying shepherdesses; on the contrary, one + too often sees penniless sons-in-law carrying off heiresses, and that is + precisely the most objectionable case. In a romance, or at the theatre, + the poor young man who marries a million is a very noble person; in life + it is different. Not if the poor young man had a profession or a trade, if + he could procure by his own work a sufficient income to render him + independent of his wife; but if he submit to be dependent on her, if he + expect from her his daily bread, to roll in her carriage, to ask her for + the expenses of his toilet, for his pocket-money, and perhaps for sundry + questionable outlays—frankly, this young man lacks pride; and what + is a man who has no pride? Besides, what surety is there that in marrying + it is, indeed, the woman he is in love with and not the dower? Who assures + me that Count Abel Larinski?—I name no one, personalities are + odious, and I own there are exceptions. <i>Dieu</i>, how rare they are! If + I were Antoinette, I would love the poor, but in their own interest. I + would not marry them. The interest of the whole human race is at stake. + Beggars are inventive; let them have their own way to make, and they will + be sure to invent some means of livelihood; give them the key of a + cash-box, and they will cease to strive, you have destroyed their genius. + My dear professor, in fifteen years I have brought about a great many + marriages. Three times I have married hunger to thirst, and, thank God, I + once decided a millionaire to marry a poor girl who had not a sou, but I + never aided a beggar to marry a rich girl. Now you have my principles and + ideas—Are you listening to me still? You fall asleep sometimes while + listening to a sermon. Good! you open your eyes—I proceed: + </p> + <p> + “I have seen your man. Well, sincerely, he only half pleases me. I do not + deny that he has a handsome head; a sculptor might use it as a model. I + will add that his eyes are very interesting, by turns grave, gentle, gay, + or melancholy. I have nothing to say against his manners or his language; + his address is excellent, and he is no booby—far from it. With all + this there is something about him that shocks me—I scarcely know + what—a mingling of two natures that I cannot explain. He might be + said to resemble, according to circumstances, a lion or a fox; I believe + that the fox-nature predominates, that the lion is supplementary. I simply + give you my impressions, which I am perfectly willing to be induced to + change. I am inclined to fancy that M. Larinski passed his first youth + amid vulgar surroundings, that later he came into contact with good + society, and being intelligent soon shook off the force of early + influences; but there still remain some traces of these. While he was in + my <i>salon</i> his eyes twice took an inventory of its contents, and that + with a rapidity which would have done credit to a practised appraiser. It + was then, especially, that he had the air of a fox. + </p> + <p> + “Nor is this all. I read the other day the story of a princess who was + travelling over the world, and asked hospitality, one evening, at the door + of a palace. Was she a real princess or an adventuress? The queen who + received her judged it well to ascertain. For this purpose she prepared + for her, with her own hands, a soft bed, composed of two mattresses, on + which she piled five feather-beds; between the two mattresses she slipped + three peas. The next day the traveller was asked how she had slept. ‘Very + badly,’ she replied. ‘I do not know what was in my bed, but my whole body + is bruised; I am black and blue, and I never closed my eyes until dawn!’ + ‘She is a true princess,’ cried the queen. Is M. Larinski a true prince? I + made him undergo the test of the three peas. I allowed myself to question + him with indiscreet, urgent, improper curiosity; he did not appear to feel + the indiscretion. He replied promptly and submissively; he endeavoured to + satisfy me, and I was not satisfied. I shall see him again to-morrow—he + comes to dine at Maisons. I only wish to be able to prove to myself that + he is a true prince. + </p> + <p> + “My dear professor, you are the most imprudent of men, and, whatever + happens, you have only yourself to blame. People do not open their doors + so easily to strangers. You tell me that, thanks to M. Larinski’s + kindness, you did not break your leg. Mercy on me! a father would better + break his leg in three places than expose his daughter to the risk of + marrying an adventurer; his leg could be easily set. There is nothing so + frightful in that. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Postscriptum</i>.—I open my letter. I want to prove to you how + much I desire to be just, and how far my impartiality goes. You know that + my neighbour, Abbe Miollens, lived a long time in Poland, and has + correspondents there. I begged him to get me information concerning the + count—of course, without explaining anything to him. He reports that + Count Abel Larinski is a true count. His father, the confiscation of the + property, the emigration to America, the Isthmus of Panama—all is + true; the history is authentic. Countess Larinski was a saint. Concerning + the son, nothing is known; he must have been three or four years old when + he landed in New York. No one ever saw him; no one seems to know anything + about his taking part in the insurrection of 1863. Having spoken the truth + about his parents, it is to be presumed that he told the truth about + himself. Very well, but one can fight for one’s country, and have a saint + for one’s mother, and yet possess none of the qualities that go towards + making a happy household. I take back the word adventurer, but I still + hold to all I have said about him. Why did he take an inventory of my + furniture with his eyes? Why did he sleep so soundly in a bed where there + were three peas? This requires an explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Kiss Antoinette for me. Give my regards to Mlle. Moiseney, without + telling her that I think her a simpleton; it is a conviction in which I + shall die. Was it, indeed, very difficult to descend from that terrible + rock of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Three days later, Mme. de Lorcy wrote a second letter: + </p> + <p> + “August 19th. + </p> + <p> + “I have received this very moment, my dear monsieur, the reply from Vienna + that I have been expecting, and which I hasten to share with you. I had + applied to our friend Baron B—-, first secretary of the embassy from + France to Vienna, in order to try to learn what reputation Count Larinski + had left there. He is esteemed there as a most worthy man; as an inventor + who was more daring than wise; as a devoted patriot; as one of those Poles + whose only thought is of Poland and of their Utopia, and who would set + fire to the four corners of the earth without wincing, for the sole + purpose of procuring embers at which to roast their chestnuts. I will not + return to the subject of the gun; you know all about it. It seems that + there was some good in this explosive gun, and that he who invented it + united a sort of genius with ingenuousness, inexperience, and ignorance + enough to make one weep. Nothing can be said against the private character + of the man. He had a few debts, and his tradespeople felt considerable + anxiety when he left Vienna one morning on foot. He had no sooner reached + Switzerland than he sent back money to settle everything. Here we have an + admirable trait. However, his tastes were simple, and he led a steady + life; it was the gun that brought his finances into disorder. I will add + that M. Larinski visited in Vienna at several of the most distinguished + houses, where he is remembered most kindly. He was sought everywhere on + account of his talents as a musician, which were far more to be relied on + than his talent as a gunsmith. He plays the piano to perfection, and has a + very beautiful voice. Had he employed these talents, he could have made + his way to the opera, but his dignity held him back. Now you know what has + been communicated to me by Baron B—-. On the faith of an honest + woman, I have neither added nor omitted anything. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to astonish you. Would you believe that I am beginning to be + reconciled to Count Larinski? What shocked me in him is explained and + excused by his long residence in America. He is a mixed breed of Yankee + and Pole. Far from having prejudices against him, I now have them in his + favour. Do you know, I am by no means sure that he cherishes in his heart + any serious sentiment for your daughter? As a man of taste he admires her. + I should like to know who would not admire her! I suspect Antoinette of + allowing her imagination to become excited about nothing. He talks of her + on all occasions in as free and tranquil a fashion as he would talk of a + work of art. I find it impossible to believe that he is in love. I have in + vain watched his green eyes. I never have seen a suspicious look. + </p> + <p> + “As I announced to you, he came to Maisons yesterday to dine. I had + invited Abbe Miollens, and Camille had invited himself, promising that he + would act like a philosopher; he only half kept his promise: for I must + inform you that my nephew has conceived, I do not know why, an + insurmountable antipathy to M. Larinski; he is subject to taking dislikes + to people. During dinner, Abbe Miollens, who is a great linguist and a + great traveller, and who has at the ends of his fingers everything + concerning Poland and the Poles, led the conversation to the insurrection + of 1863. M. Larinski, at first, refrained from discussing this sad + subject; little by little the flood-gates were opened: he related his + adventures or campaigns without boasting, praising others rather than + himself; when suddenly his voice grew husky and his eyes dim, he + interrupted himself, and begged we would speak of other things. + Fortunately, at this moment, he did not see Camille, whose lips were a + sinister smile. Young Frenchmen have become such sceptics! I made eyes at + the bad boy, and on leaving the table I sent him to smoke a cigar in the + park. + </p> + <p> + “I should confess to you that M. Larinski has made a conquest of Abbe + Miollens, who of all men is the most difficult to please, and who disputes + with Providence the privilege of fathoming the depths of the human heart. + You are aware that the abbe is a remarkable violinist: he sent for his + instrument; M. Larinski seated himself at the piano, and the two gentlemen + played a concert by Mozart—divine music performed by two angels of + the first class. The conversation that followed charmed me more than the + concerto. I do not know by what fatality we came to speak of marriage. I + did not miss the opportunity to disclose with a most innocent air, my + little theories, with which you are acquainted. Would you believe that the + count concurred, more than concurred, with my views? He is more royalist + than the king; he does not admit that a good rule allows of any exception. + According to him, a poor man who marries a rich woman forfeits his honour, + debases himself, sells himself; he is a man in bondage. He developed this + theme with sombre eloquence. I assure you that the lion no longer bore + resemblance to the fox. + </p> + <p> + “After the departure of this fine musician and great orator, Abbe + Miollens, remaining alone with me, told me how much he was charmed with + his conversation and manners; he could not cease to sing his praises. I + think he went a little too far. However, I joined with him in regretting + that a man of his merit should be reduced to live by expedients. The + abbe’s arm reaches a long way; he promised me that he would busy himself, + at the expense of all other business, to find some employment for M. + Larinski. He remembered that there was some talk of establishing in London + an international school for the living languages. One of the founders of + this institute had applied to him to learn if he could recommend some + professor of the Slavonian languages. It would be exactly the thing, and I + should be delighted to procure for your <i>protégé</i> an occupation that + would insure all the happiness that it is possible to enjoy on the other + side of the Channel. After this, will you still accuse me of being + prejudiced against him? + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my dear monsieur. Give my tender love to my amiable goddaughter. I + rely on you to read my letters to her with care and discretion. Little + girls should have only a part of the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Eight days afterward Mme. de Lorcy wrote a third letter, which was thus + expressed: + </p> + <p> + “August 27th. + </p> + <p> + “I am more and more content with M. Larinski. I blame myself for the + suspicions with which he inspired me. The Viennese were right to consider + him a worthy man, and Abbe Miollens has not valued him too highly. You + write, on your part, my dear friend, that you are not dissatisfied with + Antoinette. She is gay, tranquil; she walks, paints, never speaks of Count + Abel Larinski, and, when you speak to her of him, she smiles and does not + reply. You claim that she has reflected; that time and absence have + wrought their effect. ‘Out of sight, out of mind,’ you say. Take care! I + am more mistrustful than you. Are you very sure that Antoinette may not be + a slyboots? + </p> + <p> + “What is certain is, that I received a charming epistle from her, in which + there is no more mention of M. Larinski than if Poland and the Pole did + not exist. She praises Engadine; she pretends that she would ask for + nothing better than to end her days in a pine-forest. I can read between + the lines that it would be a pine-forest after her own heart, where there + would be reunions, balls, guests to dinner, small parties, a conservatory + of music, and the opera. The last paragraph of her letter is devoted to + the insurrection in Herzegovina, and it is hardly worth while to say that + all her sympathies are with the insurgents. ‘If I were a man,’ she writes, + ‘I would go and fight for them.’ That is very well; she always took the + part of thieves against the police. I remember long ago—she was ten + years old—I told her the story of an unfortunate traveller besieged + in a forest by an army of wolves. He made a barricade about himself, and + around it he lighted great fires. The wolves fell into the flames, where + they roasted, one after the other. Antoinette began to weep bitterly, and + I imagined that she was lamenting the terror of the unfortunate man. ‘Not + at all,’ she cried: ‘the poor beasts!’ She was made so; we cannot remake + her. She will always side with the wolves, especially with the lean ones + who scarcely can make two ends meet. + </p> + <p> + “I told you that Count Larinski was a worthy man. He came to see me the + day before yesterday. We have become very good friends. I asked him if + Paris still pleased him, and he replied, with the most gracious smile, + ‘What I like best in Paris is Maisons Lafitte.’ Thereupon he said some + exceedingly pretty things, which I will not repeat. We walked <i>tete-a-tete</i> + around the park. Heaven be praised that I returned heart-whole! We talked + politics; he bears the reputation of being hot-headed, but he is not + wanting in good sense. I wished to know if he was in favour of the Turks + or of the Bosnians. He replied: + </p> + <p> + “‘As a Christian, as a Catholic, I am interested in the Christians of the + East, and I am for the Cross against the Crescent.’ He pronounced these + words, Christian, Catholic, and cross, in a tone full of unction. I + surmise that he is a devotee. He added, ‘As a Pole, I am for Turkey.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I believed,’ said I, ‘that the Poles had sympathy with all the + oppressed.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Poles,’ he replied, ‘cannot like those who like their oppressors, and + they cannot forget that the Osmanlis are their natural allies, and, on + occasions, their refuge.’ + </p> + <p> + “I gave him Antoinette’s letter to read. I was very glad, at any hazard, + to prove to him that she could write four pages without asking about him. + He read it with extreme attention: but when he came to the famous passage—‘If + I were a man, I would go and fight for them!’—he smiled, and + returned me the letter, saying, in a disdainful and rather a dry tone: + </p> + <p> + “‘Write for me to Mlle. Moriaz that I believe I am a man, yet that I will + not fight for the Bosnians, and that the Turks are my greatest friends.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘She is foolish,’ I said. ‘Fortunately, she changes her folly with every + new moon!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What would you have?’ he replied; ‘in order not to be insipid, it is + well to be a little foolish. My poor mother used often to say: “My son, + youth should be employed in laying by a great store of extravagant + enthusiasm; otherwise, at the end of life’s journey the heart will be + void, for much is left on the road.”’ + </p> + <p> + “Calm, <i>seigneur</i>, your excited fears, no one has designs on your + daughter; we evidently find her charming, but are by no means in love with + her. With much precaution and circumlocution I gently proceeded to + question Count Larinski on the state of his affairs, about which he never + has opened his mouth. He frowned. I did not lose courage. I offered him + this place of professor of the Slavonian languages of which the abbe had + again spoken. I saw in an instant that his sensitive pride had taken + alarm. However, upon reflection, he softened, thanked me, declined my kind + offer, and announced—guess what! How much is my news worth? what + will you give for it? He announced, I tell you, that in two weeks—you + understand me—he will return to Vienna, where he has been promised a + post in the archives of the Minister of War. I did not dare to ask what + was the salary; after all, if he is satisfied, it is not for us to be + harder to please than he. When I affirm that Count Larinski is a good, + worthy man!—In two weeks! you understand me perfectly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, I am enchanted to know that the water of Saint Moritz and + the air of the Engadine have entirely re-established your health; but do + not be imprudent. Half-cures are fatal. Be careful not to leave Churwalden + too soon, for the descent into the heavy atmosphere of the plains. Your + physician, whom I have just seen, declares that, if you hasten your return + he will not answer for the consequences. Antoinette, I am sure, will join + her entreaties to ours. Do not let us see you before the end of three + weeks! Follow my orders, my dear professor, and all will go well. Camille + is about to leave; he has become insupportable. He had the audacity to + assert to me that I was a good woman, but very credulous, which in my + estimation is not very polite. He no longer acts as a nephew, and respect + is dead.” + </p> + <p> + Ten days later M. Moriaz received at Churwalden a fourth and last letter: + </p> + <p> + “September 6th. + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly my dear friend, Count Larinski is a delightful man, and I never + will pardon myself for having judged ill of him. The day before yesterday + I did not know the extent of his merit and of his virtues. His beautiful + soul is like a country where one passes from one pleasing discovery to + another, and at each step a new scene is revealed. Between ourselves, + Antoinette is a dreamer: where has she got the idea that this man is in + love with her? These Counts Larinski have artists’ enthusiasm, tender and + sensitive hearts, and poetic imaginations; they love everything, and they + love nothing; they admire a pretty woman as they admire a beautiful + flower, a humming-bird, a picture of Titian’s. Did I tell you that the + other day, as I was showing him through my park, he almost fainted before + my purple beech—which assuredly is a marvel? He was in ecstasy; I + truly believe there were tears in his eyes. I might have supposed he was + in love with my beech; yet he has not asked my permission to marry it. + </p> + <p> + “Moreover, if he were up to his eyes in love with your daughter, have no + fear; he will not marry her, and this is the reason—Wait a little, I + must go further back. + </p> + <p> + “Abbe Miollens came to see me yesterday afternoon; he was distressed that + M. Larinski had not approved of his proposition. + </p> + <p> + “‘The evil is not so great,’ I said; ‘let him go back to Vienna, where all + his acquaintances are; he will be happier there.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The evil that I see in it,’ he replied, ‘is that he will be lost to us + forever. Vienna is so far away! Professor in London, only ten hours’ + journey from Paris, he could cross the Channel sometimes, and we could + have our music together.’ + </p> + <p> + “You can understand that this reasoning did not touch me in the least; + whatever it cost me I will bear it, and resign myself to lose M. Larinski + forever; but the abbe is obstinate. + </p> + <p> + “‘I fear,’ he said, ‘that the Austrians pay their archivists badly; the + English manage matters better, and Lord C—- gave me <i>carte blanche</i>.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh! but that,’ rejoined I, ‘is a delicate point to touch. As soon as you + approach the bread-and-butter question, our man assumes a rigid, formal + manner, as if an attack had been made on his dignity.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I truly believe,’ he replied, ‘that there is a fundamental basis of + incomparable nobility of sentiment in his character; he is not proud, he + is pride itself.’ + </p> + <p> + “The abbe is passionately fond of Horace; he assets that it is to this + great poet that he owes that profound knowledge of men for which he is + distinguished. He quoted a Latin verse that he was kind enough to + translate for me, and that signified something equivalent to the statement + that certain horses rear and kick when you touch the sensitive spot. ‘That + is like the Poles,’ he said. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile, M. Larinski entered, and I retained the two gentlemen to + dinner. In the evening they again gave me a concert. Why was Antoinette + not there? I fancied I was at the Conservatoire. Then we conversed, and + the abbe, who never can let go his idea, said, without any reserve, to the + count: + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear count, have you reflected? If you go to London, we could hope to + see you often; and, besides, the salary—well, as this terrible word + has been spoken, listen to me; I will do all in my power to obtain + conditions for you in every way worthy of your merit, your learning, your + character, your position.’ + </p> + <p> + “He was not permitted to finish the list; the count reared like the horse + in Horace, exclaiming, ‘O Mozart! what a horrid subject of conversation!’ + Then he added, gravely: ‘M. l’Abbe, you are a thousand times too good, but + the place offered to me in Vienna seems to me better adapted to my kind of + ability; I would make, I fear, a detestable professor, and the salary, + were it double, would in my opinion have but little weight.’ + </p> + <p> + “The abbe still insisted. ‘In our century,’ said he, ‘less than any other, + can one live on air.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I have lived on it sometimes,’ replied the count, gaily, ‘and I did not + find it bad. My health is proof against accidents. Ah! where money is + concerned, you have no idea how far my indifference goes. It is not a + virtue with me, it is an infirmity; it is because of my nationality, + because I am my father’s son. I feel myself incapable of thinking of the + future, of practising thoroughly French habits of economy. If my purse is + full, I soon empty it; after which I condemn myself to privations—no, + that does not express it—I enjoy them. According to me, there is no + true happiness into which a little suffering does not enter. Besides, I + have a taste for contrasts. At times I believe myself a millionaire, I + have the pretensions of a nabob; I give full scope to my fancies; the next + day, my bed is hard and I live on bread-and-water, and am perfectly happy. + In short, I am a fool once in the year, and a philosopher the rest of the + time.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The trouble is,’ returned the abbe, ‘that one day of folly will + sometimes suffice to compromise forever the future of a philosopher.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, reassure yourself,’ replied he; ‘my extravagances never are very + dangerous. There was method in Hamlet’s madness, and there is always a + little reason in mine.’ + </p> + <p> + “While making this declaration of principles, he had seated himself at the + piano, and idly began running his fingers over the keys. Suddenly he began + to sing a German song, which I got Abbe Miollens to translate for me, and + which is not long. The hero of the song is an amorous pine, standing on + the summit of a barren mountain of the north. He is alone; he is weary; + the snow and ice wrap him in a white mantle, and he spends his dreary + hours of leisure in dreaming of a palm, which in days of yore he met, it + seems, in his travels. + </p> + <p> + “M. Larinski sang this little melody with so much pathos that the good + abbe was touched, and I became anxious. Anxiety, once felt, is apt to be + constantly returning. I asked myself if he had met his palm in the + Engadine, and added aloud, rather dryly: ‘Is the day of your departure + definitely fixed? will you not do us the favour of granting us a + reprieve?’ + </p> + <p> + “He executed the most pearly chromatic scale, and replied: ‘Alas! madame, + I am only deferring my departure on account of a letter that cannot be + much longer delayed; in less than a week, I shall have the distress of + bidding you farewell.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You shall not leave,’ said Abbe Miollens, ‘without letting us hear once + again the poem of the pine. You sang it with so much soul that it seemed + to me you must be relating an episode of your own history. My dear count, + did you ever chance to dream of a palm?’ + </p> + <p> + “He answered: ‘I have no longer the right to dream; I am no longer free.’ + </p> + <p> + “The abbe started and cried out, in his simple-hearted way, ‘Ah! what, are + you married?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I thought I had told you so,’ replied he with a melancholy smile, and he + hastened to speak of a ballet that he had seen the evening before at the + opera, and with which he was only half pleased. + </p> + <p> + “You can readily believe that when he pronounced the words, ‘I thought I + had told you so,’ I was on the point of falling on his neck; I was so + happy, that I was afraid he would read in my eyes my joy, astonishment, + and profound gratitude. I think that he is very keen, and that he has + conjectured for some time the mistrust with which he inspired me. If he + wanted to mock me a little, I will pardon him; a good man unjustly + suspected has a perfect right to revenge himself by a little irony. I + ordered the horses to be put to my carriage to take him over to the + railroad, and the abbe and I accompanied him as far as the station. There + cannot be too much regard shown to honest people who have been abused by + fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Well! what do you say, my dear friend? Was I wrong in claiming that M. + Larinski is a delightful man? He will leave before the end of a week, and + he is married, unhappily married, I fear, for his smile was melancholy. + You see he may have married out of gratitude some <i>grisette</i>, some + little working-woman, who nursed him through illness, one of those women + who are not presentable; that would be thoroughly in character. Happily, + in law there are no good or bad marriages; this one I hold to be + unimpeachable. + </p> + <p> + “The reaction was violent: I am so rejoiced that I feel tempted to + illuminate Cormeilles and Maisons Lafitte. In what way will your undeceive + our dreamer? In your place I would use some precautions. Be prudent; go + bridle in hand; and in the future, believe me, climb no more among the + rocks; you see what it may lead to. + </p> + <p> + “Once more, do not hasten your departure. We have had for some days + stifling heat; we literally suffocate. You need to spend a fortnight + longer amid the shade of the pine-trees, and four thousand feet above the + level of the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my dear professor! I am interrupted in my writing by the + incredulous, the sceptical, the suspicious, the absurd, the ridiculous + Camille, who respectfully recommends himself to your indulgent + friendship.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + In reading the fourth letter of Mme. de Lorcy, M. Moriaz experienced a + feeling of satisfaction and deliverance, over which he was not master. His + daughter had gone to pay a visit in the neighbourhood, and he was alone + with Mlle. Moiseney, who said to him, “You have received good news, + monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “It is excellent,” he replied; then, promptly correcting himself, he + added: “Excellent, or to be regretted, or vexatious; I leave that to our + powers of discernment.” + </p> + <p> + When he had finished reading the letter, and replaced it in the envelope, + he remained thoughtful for some moments; he was wondering how he should + proceed to announce the excellent news. For three weeks his daughter had + been a mystery to him. She never once had pronounced the name of Count + Larinski. Churwalden pleased her as much as Saint Moritz; apparently, she + was gay, tranquil, perfectly happy. Had her delusion passed away? Had she + changed her mind? M. Moriaz did not know; but he surmised that still + waters should be mistrusted, and that a young girl’s imagination is like + an abyss. One thoroughly good warning is worth two indifferent ones; + henceforth, he feared everything. “If I speak to her,” thought he, “I + shall not be able to dissimulate my joy, and perhaps she will go into + hysterics.” He had a horror of hysterics; he resolved to have recourse to + Mlle. Moiseney, and he said to her, abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose, mademoiselle, that you are acquainted with all that has + passed, and that Antoinette has given you her confidence?” + </p> + <p> + She opened her eyes wide, and was on the point of answering that she knew + nothing; but she restrained herself, and setting her little pointed head + erect on her thin shoulders, she said, proudly, “Can you imagine that + Antoinette would keep any secrets from me?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” replied he. “And do you approve, do you encourage her + sentiments for M. Larinski?” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moiseney started; she had been far from suspecting that Count + Larinski had specially impressed Mlle. Moriaz, and, as on certain + occasions her mind worked rapidly, she understood immediately all the + consequences of this prodigious event. There was a cloud before her eyes, + and in this cloud she beheld all manner of things, both pleasing and + displeasing to her; her mouth open, she strove to clear her ideas. She + said to herself: “It is an imprudent act; not only that, it cannot be;” + but she also said: “Mlle. Antoinette can no more make a mistake than the + Queen of England can; because she wishes it, she is right in wishing it.” + Mlle. Moiseney ended by regaining her self-possession; her lips formed the + most pleasant smile, as she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “He has no fortune, but he has a beautiful name. Mme. la Comtesse + Larinski! it sounds well to the ear.” + </p> + <p> + “Like music; I grant, it is perfect,” rejoined M. Moriaz. “Unfortunately, + music is not everything in the affairs of this world.” + </p> + <p> + She was not listening to him. Full of her own idea, without taking time to + breathe: “You jest, monsieur,” she continued, with extraordinary + volubility. “Believe me or not, I have foreseen this marriage for some + time. I have presentiments that never deceive me. I was sure that it would + be thus. What a handsome couple! Fancy them driving in an open carriage + through the park, or entering a proscenium-box at the opera! They will + make a sensation. And truly, without boasting, I think I may call your + attention to the fact that I have been of some account in the affair. The + first time I saw Count Larinski, you know, at the <i>table d’hote</i> in + Bergun, I recognised at once that he was beyond comparison—” + </p> + <p> + “By-the-way, he ate trout?” interrupted M. Moriaz; “it does honour to your + discernment.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better ask Antoinette,” replied she, “if that very evening I did + not praise the handsome stranger. She maintained that he stooped, and that + his head was badly poised; would you believe it?—his head badly + poised! Ah! I was sure it would end so. Do you wish to prove my + discernment? Shall I tell you where your letter comes from that contains + such excellent news? The count wrote it; he has at last proposed. I + guessed it at once. Ah! monsieur, I sympathize in your joy. He is, indeed, + the son-in-law that I have dreamed of for you. A superior man, so + open-hearted, so unaffected and frank!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think so?” asked M. Moriaz, fanning himself with the + letter. + </p> + <p> + “He related to us his whole life,” rejoined she, in a pedantic tone. “How + many people could do as much?” + </p> + <p> + “A delightful narration. I only regret that he was silent concerning one + detail which was of a nature to interest us.” + </p> + <p> + “An unpleasant detail?” she asked, raising her gooseberry-coloured eyes to + him. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, a circumstance that does him honour, and for which I am + obliged to him. Believe me, my dear demoiselle, I should be charmed to + receive a son-in-law from your hands, and to give my daughter to a man + whose genius and noble sentiments you divined from merely seeing him eat. + Unfortunately, I fear this marriage will not come about; there is one + little difficulty.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Count Larinski forgot to apprise us that he was already married.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moiseney sent forth a doleful cry. M. Moriaz handed her Mme. de + Lorcy’s letter; after reading it, she remained in a state of deep + dejection; a pitiless finger had burst the iris bubble that she had just + blown, and that she saw resplendent at the end of her pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Do not give way to your despair,” said M. Moriaz; “take courage, follow + the example I set you, imitate my resignation. But tell me, how do you + think Antoinette will take the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “It will be a terrible blow to her,” replied Mlle. Moiseney; “she loves + him so much!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know, since she has not judged it best to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “I know from circumstances. Poor dear Antoinette! The greatest + consideration must be used in announcing to her this intelligence; and I + alone, I believe—” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you,” M. Moriaz hastened to interpose; “you alone are + capable of operating on our patient without causing her suffering. You are + so skilful! your hand is so light! Make the best of the situation, + mademoiselle—I leave it to you.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he took up his hat and cane, and hastened to get away, + rather anxious about what had passed, yet feeling too happy, too much + rejoiced, to be a good consoler. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before Mlle. Moriaz returned from her walk. She came + humming a ballad; she was joyous, her complexion brilliant, her eyes + sparkling, and she carried an armful of heather and ferns. Mlle. Moiseney + went to meet her, her face mournful, her head bent down, her glance + tearful. + </p> + <p> + “Why! what is the matter, my dear Joan?” she said; “you look like a + funeral.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” sighed Mlle. Moiseney, “I have sad news to communicate.” + </p> + <p> + “What! have they written to you from Cormeilles that your parrot is dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear child, be reasonable, be strong; summon up all your courage.” + </p> + <p> + “For the love of God, what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! would that I could spare you this trouble! Your father has just + received a letter from Mme. de Lorcy.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette grew more attentive, her breath came quickly. “And what was + there in this letter that is so terrible, so heart-rending?” she asked, + forcing a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately, I am here,” replied Mlle. Moiseney. “You know that your joys + and your sorrows are mine. All the consolation that I can lavish upon you, + the tenderest sympathy—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Joan, in the name of Heaven, explain first, and then console!” + </p> + <p> + “You told me nothing, my child—I have a right to complain; but I + have divined all. I can read your heart. I am sure that you love him.” + </p> + <p> + “Of whom do you speak?” replied Antoinette, whose colour rose in her + cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Of a most charming man, who, either through inconceivable stupidity, or + through most criminal calculation, neglected to tell us that he was + married.” + </p> + <p> + And with these words, Mlle. Moiseney extended both arms, that she might + receive into them Mlle. Moriaz, whom she believed to be already swooning. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz did not swoon. She flushed crimson, then grew very pale; but + she remained standing, her head proudly erect, and she said, in a tone of + well-feigned indifference: “Oh! M. Larinski is married? My very sincere + compliments to the Countess Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + After which she busied herself arranging in a vase the heather and ferns + she had brought back with her. Mlle. Moiseney stood lost in astonishment + at her calm; she gazed in a stupor at her, and suddenly exclaimed: “Thank + God! you do not love him! Your father has mistaken, he often mistakes; he + sometimes gets the strangest ideas into his mind; he was persuaded that + this would be a death-blow to you; he does not know you at all. Ah! + unquestionably, M. Larinski is far from being disagreeable; I do not + dispute his having some merit; but I always thought that there was + something suspicious about him; his manners were a little equivocal; I + suspected him of hiding something from us. As it appears, he has made a <i>mesalliance</i> + that he did not care to acknowledge. It is deplorable that a man of such + excellent address should have low tastes and doubtful morality. His duty + was to tell us all; he was neither loyal nor delicate.” + </p> + <p> + “You dream, my dear,” replied Antoinette. “What law, human or divine, + obliged M. Larinski to tell us everything? Did you expect him to render an + account of his deeds and misdeeds to us as to a tribunal of penance?” + </p> + <p> + In speaking thus, she took off her hat and mantilla, seated herself in the + embrasure of a window, and opened a book which she began to read with + great attention. + </p> + <p> + “God be praised! she does not love him,” thought Mlle. Moiseney, who was + not aware that Mlle. Moriaz was turning two or three pages at a time with + perceiving it. + </p> + <p> + Deeply absorbed as she was, she still recognised her father’s step as he + came upstairs to his room. She hurried out to meet him. He noticed with + pleasure that her face was not wan, nor were her eyes red. He was less + satisfied when she said, in a calm, clear voice: + </p> + <p> + “Please show me the letter that you have received from Mme. de Lorcy.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the use?” he rejoined. “I know it by heart. I am ready to recite + it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a letter that cannot be shown?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed; but as I tell you that I am ready to give you an account of + it—” + </p> + <p> + “I would prefer to read it with my own eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “After all, you have a right. There! take it. But I beg of you do not be + offended by unfortunate expressions.” + </p> + <p> + “Mme. de Lorcy always knows how to choose the proper word to express her + thought,” she responded. + </p> + <p> + When she had run her eye rapidly over Mme. de Lorcy’s eight closely + written pages, she looked at her father and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You must own that you found a very useful and a very zealous ally in Mme. + de Lorcy; do her this justice, she has worked hard, and you owe her many + thanks for having busied herself so actively in ridding you of ‘this + worthy man, this good man, this delightful man’; those are her own words, + if you remember.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz exclaimed: “I hope you do not imagine that it was a matter + arranged between us. Do you really suspect me of having some dark plot + with Mme. de Lorcy! Do you believe me capable of being implicated in an + act of perfidy?” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid! I only accuse you of being too joyous, and of not knowing how + to conceal it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a crime?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is an indiscretion.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, my dear child, that I only consider your happiness, and + Mme. de Lorcy herself—Since M. Langis no longer thinks of you, what + reason could she have—” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” interrupted Antoinette; “but her prejudice would take the + place of reason.” + </p> + <p> + “So you will not believe that Count Larinski is married?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it, without being certain, and I wish to be assured of it. Have + I not acted in good faith through all this matter? was I not ready to + comply with your conditions? I consented to refer to the judgment of Mme. + de Lorcy. She has deigned to be gracious to the accused. She has admitted + that M. Larinski is a perfectly honourable and even a delightful man; but + she has discovered, at intervals of several days, first, that he does not + love me, and then, that he has deceived me by letting me believe that he + was still free. I wish to satisfy my own mind, and convince myself that I + am not being played with.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have concluded——” + </p> + <p> + “I have concluded that, with your permission, we shall leave to-morrow + morning for Cormeilles.” + </p> + <p> + This conclusion was by no means agreeable to M. Moriaz, whose face grew + sensibly longer. + </p> + <p> + “Of what are you afraid? You know that I have character, and you ought to + know, no matter what Mme. de Lorcy says, that I am not wanting in good + sense. When it is proved to me that I have deceived myself, I will make + the sign of the cross over my romance; it will be dead and buried, and I + promise you not to wear mourning for it.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it,” said he; “I believe in your good sense, I have faith in your + reason: we shall leave to-morrow for Cormeilles.” + </p> + <p> + Four days later, Mme. de Lorcy was walking in an alley in her park. She + was joined there by M. Langis, to whom she said, in a good-humoured tone: + “Always grave and melancholy, my dear Camille! When will you cease your + drooping airs? I cannot understand you. I do my best to be agreeable to + you, to settle matters satisfactorily. Nothing seems to cheer you. You + make me think of the hare in La Fontaine: + </p> + <p> + “‘Cet animal est triste, et la Crainte le ronge.’” + </p> + <p> + “Fear and hate, madame,” replied he. “I hate this man; he is insupportable + to me. I will give up coming to Maisons if I always must meet him here. + Has he paid you his adieux for the last time?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet; a little patience—we shall not count the minutes. Besides, + what harm can this man do you? The lion has lost his claws—what do I + say?—he has carried his good-nature to the point of muzzling + himself. It is not generous to pursue with hate a disarmed enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, madame, if he is not gone in three days, I return to my first + idea; it was the best.” + </p> + <p> + “You will cut his throat?” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “For the love of art?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not a very bloodthirsty individual, but I would take a singular + delight in slashing at the skin of this gloomy personage.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy shrugged her shoulders. “What makes you think him gloomy, my + dear? You are perfectly reasonable. You ought to adore M. Larinski; you + are under the greatest obligations to him. He has been the first to + succeed in touching the heart of our dear, hitherto insensible girl; he + has broken the charm. She was the Sleeping Beauty; he has awakened her, + and, through the favour of Heaven, he cannot marry her. I can see her in + Churwalden, a prey to the gloomiest ennui, weeping over her illusions, + furious at having been deceived. Do you not divine all the advantage that + can be derived from a woman’s anger?” + </p> + <p> + “You know that I love her, and yet I do not wish to owe anything to her + spite.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a child: be guided. The moment is come for you to propose. In a + few days you will start for Churwalden, and you will say to this angry + woman, ‘I have lied—I love you.’ In short, you will talk to her of + your amorous flame; and you may, freely, under these circumstances, + exhaust all your treasure-store of hyperbole. She will listen to you, I + can promise you, and she will say to herself, ‘I seek vengeance—here + it is.’” + </p> + <p> + “I would like to believe you, madame,” he replied, “but are you very + certain that Mlle. Moriaz is still at Churwalden?” + </p> + <p> + And, pointing with his finger, he showed her at the end of the avenue a + figure coming towards them clad in a pretty nut-brown dress with a long + train sweeping the gravel. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, I believe that it is she,” cried Mme. de Lorcy. “M. Moriaz is the + most unskilful person; but, after all, not much harm is done.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz had arrived the evening previous at Cormeilles. After resting + somewhat from the fatigues of the journey, she had nothing more urgent to + do than to order the horses put to her coupe and to come and pay her + respects to her godmother, who could not fail to be touched by this + attention. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy ran to Antoinette and embraced her several times, saying: + “You are here at last! How charmed I am to see you again! You made us wait + long enough; I began to fear that you had taken root in the Grisons. Is it + indeed an enchanted land? I rather believe that your father is a cruel + egotist, that he shamefully sacrificed you to his own convenience in + prolonging his cure; but here you are—I will pardon him. Your poor, + your <i>proteges</i>, are clamorous for you. Who do you think asked after + you, the other day? Mlle. Galet, whom, according to your orders, I + supplied with her quarter’s allowance. How you spoil her! I found on her + table a bouquet fit for a duchess; she insisted that you had sent it to + her from where you were, and I had all the trouble in the world to make + her understand that double camellias are not gathered among the glaciers + of Roseg. Strew with flowers, if you will, Mlle. Galet’s existence and + garret; but do not fling at her head a bushel of double camellias, + streaked with white; it is madness. I seriously propose to have you put + under restraint. Never mind, I am very happy to see you again. You are + looking very well.—Don’t you think, Camille, that she appears + extremely well?” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz coldly received Mme. de Lorcy’s embraces; but she smiled + graciously on M. Langis, and pressed his hand affectionately. Mme. de + Lorcy led them into her <i>salon</i>, where they talked on indifferent + subjects. Antoinette was waiting for M. Langis’s departure to broach the + subject that she had at heart. At the end of twenty minutes, he rose, but + immediately reseated himself. A door had just opened, giving admittance to + Count Abel Larinski. + </p> + <p> + At the unexpected apparition of Samuel Brohl, the two women changed + colour; the one flushed from the effort that she made to dissimulate her + vexation, the other turned pale from emotion. Samuel Brohl crossed the <i>salon</i> + with deliberate step, without appearing to recognise the person who was + with Mme. de Lorcy. Suddenly he trembled, as if he had been touched by a + torpedo, and, profoundly agitated, almost lost countenance. Was he as much + astonished as he seemed? For some time the Sannois Hill had become his + favourite promenade, and he never went there without going as far as a + certain spot whence he could see the front of a certain house, the + window-shutters of which had remained during two months as though + hermetically sealed. It might be that the evening before he had found them + open. Induction is a scientific process with which Samuel Brohls are + familiar. + </p> + <p> + He had abundant will and self-control. He was not long in recovering + himself; he raised his head like one who feels himself strong enough to + defy all dangers. After greeting Mme. de Lorcy, he drew near Antoinette, + and asked how she was, in a grave, almost ceremonious tone. + </p> + <p> + “Your visit distresses me, my dear count,” said Mme. de Lorcy to him; “I + fear it is the last. Have you come to bid us farewell?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes, madame,” he replied. “The letter for which I have been waiting + has not yet arrived; but this delay will not alter my plans: in three days + I shall leave Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Without a desire to return, without regret?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I shall only regret Maisons, and the kind reception I have received + there. Paris is too large; little people like myself feel their smallness + more here than elsewhere; it does not require an excess of pride for one + to dislike being reduced to the state of an atom. Residing in Vienna suits + me better; I breathe freer there; it is a city better adapted to my size + and taste. Birds do wrong to change their nests.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, he began to describe and warmly extol the Prater and its fine + walks, Schonbrunn, its botanical gardens and the Gloriette, the church of + St. Stephen’s, and the limpid waters of the Danube; sometimes addressing + himself to Antoinette, who listened without a word, and sometimes to Mme. + de Lorcy, whose eyes were turned at intervals towards M. Langis, seeming + to say to him: “Was I not right? Confess that your apprehensions lacked + common-sense. Do you hear him? he has only half an hour to spend with her, + and he describes the Prater. Are you still thinking of cutting his throat? + Please say one polite and civil word to him. It is not he, it is you who + are gloomy. Throw off your sinister air. How long will this taciturn + reverie last in which you are sunk? You make yourself a laughing-stock—you + act like a fool. You resemble a sphinx of the desert engaged in meditating + upon a serpent, and who mistakes an innocent adder for a viper.” M. Langis + understood what she wished to say to him, but he did not throw off his + sinister air. + </p> + <p> + After praising Vienna and its environs, Samuel Brohl eulogized the easy, + careless character of the Viennese. He told, in a sprightly way, several + anecdotes. His gaiety was rather feverish—somewhat forced studied, + and abrupt; but, nevertheless, it was gaiety. Mme. de Lorcy responded to + him, Mlle. Moriaz continued silent; she crumpled between her fingers the + guipure lace of her Marie-Antoinette fichu, and, with fixed eye, she + seemed to be counting the stitches. Samuel Brohl interrupted himself in + the midst of a sentence, and rose suddenly. He turned towards Antoinette; + in a hollow voice he begged her to tell M. Moriaz how much he regretted + that his early departure would deprive him of the honour and pleasure of + visiting him at Cormeilles; then he bowed to Mme. de Lorcy, thanked her + for the happy moments that he had spent with her, and charged her to + commend him to the kind remembrance of Abbe Miollens. + </p> + <p> + “We shall meet again, my dear count,” she said to him, in a clear voice, + emphasizing her words; “and I hope that, before long, we shall make the + acquaintance of the Countess Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in astonishment, and murmured, “I lost my mother ten + years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately, without giving Mme. de Lorcy time to explain herself, he + directed his steps hastily towards the door, followed by three glances, + all three of which spoke, although they did not all say the same thing. + The room was large; during the thirty seconds that it took him to cross + it, the angel of silence hovered in the air. + </p> + <p> + He was about passing through the door, when, as fatality ordained, there + occurred to him an unfortunate and disastrous thought. He could not resist + the desire to see Mlle. Moriaz once more, to impress forever on his memory + her adored image. He turned, and their eyes met. He paid dearly for this + weakness of the will. Apparently the violent restraint that he had + exercised over himself for an hour had exhausted his strength. It seemed + to him that his heart ceased to beat; he felt his legs stiffen, and refuse + to serve him; his teeth clinched, his pupils dilated, consciousness + forsook him. Suddenly, heavily as a mass of lead, he fell prone upon the + floor, where he remained in a senseless condition. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz could not suppress a cry, and seemed for a moment on the + point of fainting herself. Mme. de Lorcy drew her arm around her waist, + and hurried her into the next room, throwing to M. Langis a bottle of + salts as she did so, and saying, “Take care of Count Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + The first thing that M. Langis did was to set the bottle on the table, + after which he went close up to Samuel Brohl, who, fainting and inanimate, + bore almost the appearance of death. He examined him an instant, bent over + him, then, folding his arms and shrugging his shoulders, he said to him, + “Monsieur, Mlle. Moriaz is no longer here.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl did not stir. “You did not hear me,” continued Camille. “You + are superb, M. le Comte; you are very handsome; your attitude is + irreproachable, and you might well be taken for a dead person. You fell + admirably; I swear I never saw at the theatre a more successful + fainting-fit; but spare yourself further trouble for the performance. I + repeat, Mlle. Moriaz is no longer here.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl remained inert and rigid. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you want to try the strength of my wrists,” continued Camille. + “Very well, I will give you that satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + And, with these words, he seized him round his waist, summoned all his + strength in order to lift him, and deposited him at full length on the + sofa. + </p> + <p> + He examined him again, and said: “Will this tragi-comedy last much longer? + Shall I not find a secret to resuscitate you? Listen to me, monsieur. I + love with all my soul the woman that you pretend to love. Does that not + suffice? Monsieur, you are a Polish adventurer, and I have as much + admiration for your social talents as I have little esteem for yourself. + Does that not suffice yet? I would not, however, lift my hand to you. I + entreat you to consider the affront received.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if the dead man trembled slightly, and Camille exclaimed: + “Thank God! this time you have given sign of life, and the insult found + the way to your heart. I would be charmed to restore you to your senses. I + await your commands. The day, the place, and the weapons, I leave to your + choice. And, stay! You can count on my absolute discretion. No one, I give + you my word, shall learn from me that your fainting-fit had ears, and + resented insults. Here is my address, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And, drawing from his pocket a visiting-card, he tried to slip it into the + cold, listless, pendent hand, which let it fall to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “What obstinacy!” he said. “As you will, M. le Comte; I am at the end of + my eloquence.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his back, seated himself in a chair, and taking a paper, he + unfolded it. Meanwhile the door opened, and Mme. de Lorcy appeared. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, Camille?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You see, madame,” he answered, “I am waiting until this great comedian + has finished playing his piece.” + </p> + <p> + He was not aware that Mlle. Moriaz also had just entered the <i>salon</i>. + She cast him an angry, indignant, threatening glance, in which he read his + condemnation. He tried to find some word of excuse or explanation to + disarm her anger, but his voice failed him. He bowed low, took his hat, + and went away. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy, very much agitated, opened a window; then she threw water + into Samuel Brohl’s face, rubbed his temples with a vivacity that was not + altogether exempt from roughness, and made him smell English salts. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear! pray go away,” she said to Antoinette; “this is no place for + you.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette did not go away; her face contracted, her lips trembling, she + seated herself aside at some distance from the sofa. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy’s energetic exertions at last produced their effect. Samuel + Brohl was not dead; a quiver ran through his frame, his limbs relaxed, and + at the end of a few instants he reopened his eyes, then his mouth; he sat + up, and stammered: “Where am I? What has happened? Ah, my God! it was but + a moment ago that she was here!” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy laid her hand on his mouth, and, bending over his ears, she + said, in a severe, imperious tone, “She is here still!” + </p> + <p> + She did not succeed in making herself understood. One only recovers by + degrees from such a fainting-fit. Samuel Brohl was again overcome by + weakness; his eyes closed once more, and he let his head sink between his + hands. After a silence of a few moments he said, in a choked voice: “Ah! + pardon me, madame. I am ashamed of myself. My courage failed me; my + strength betrayed me. I love her madly, and I had sworn never to see her + again. It was in order to fly from her that I was going away.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his head; he saw Antoinette; he looked wildly at her, as though + he did not recognise her. + </p> + <p> + He recognised her at last, made a gesture of alarm, rose precipitately, + and fled. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz drew near Mme. de Lorcy, and said to her, “Well, what do you + think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think, my dear,” she replied, “that Mme. de Lorcy is a fool, and that + Count Larinski is a powerful man.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette looked at her with a bitter smile, and touched her arm lightly. + “Admit, madame,” she said, “that if he had a hundred thousand livres’ + income, you would not think of doubting his sincerity.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy did not reply; she could not say “No,” and she was enraged + to feel that she was both right and wrong. It is an accident that happens + sometimes to women of the world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + On her entering her coupe to return to Cormeilles, Mlle. Moriaz was the + prey of an agitation that did not calm down during the entire drive. Her + whole soul was stirred by a tender, passionate sentiment for the man who + had swooned away in taking farewell of her; she was filled with anger + against the foolish prejudices and the petty finesse of the people of the + world; filled with joy at having baffled a monstrous conspiracy against + her happiness; filled with pride because she had seen clearly, because she + had not mistaken in her choice, and because the man whom she loved was + worthy of being loved. During several days she had suffered cruelly from + anxiety, from actual agony of mind, and over and over again she had said + to herself, “Perhaps they are right.” A woman’s heart believes itself to + be at the mercy of error, and it is torture to it to be obliged to doubt + itself and its own clairvoyance. When it is unmistakably demonstrated to + it that its god is only an idol of wood or of stone, that what was once + adored must henceforth be despised, it feels ready to die, and imagines + that some spring must give way in the vast machine of the universe, that + the sky must fall, the earth crumble away; and yet a woman’s error of + judgment is not a matter of such very grave import. The sun continues to + shine, the earth to revolve upon its axis, as though it had not occurred. + The machine of the universe would be subject to quite too many accidents + should it become unsettled every time a woman made a mistake. + </p> + <p> + “It was I who was right; they were incapable of comprehending him,” though + Mlle. Moriaz, as she crossed the Seine, and she contemplated with a + delighted eye the lovely blue sky, the tranquil waters, the verdant banks + of the river, with their long range of poplar-trees. It seemed to her that + all was going well, that order reigned everywhere, that the Great + Mechanician was at his post, that the world was in good hands, and that + travellers therein had no cause to fear untoward mischance. + </p> + <p> + When she arrived at Cormeilles, M. Moriaz was shut up in his laboratory, + which he had been overjoyed to find just as he had left it. A velvet + skull-cap perched on one side of his head, his sleeves turned up, a brown + holland apron tied round his neck and his waist, a feather brush in his + hand, he had proceeded at once to examine his precious stock in detail—his + furnaces, his long-necked, big-bellied matrasses, the curved necks and the + tubulures of his retorts, his cucurbits, and his alembics. Balloons, + tubes, pipettes, pneumatic vats, receivers, cupels, lamps, bell-glasses, + blow-pipes, and mortars, he passed in review to assure himself that during + his absence nothing had been damaged. He carefully dusted his jars, + examined the labels, made sure that none of his treasures were cracked, + that his gauges were not out of order. He was as happy as a king who has + his troops pass in review before him, and feels convinced that they bear + themselves well; that they will stand fire and do honour to their master. + </p> + <p> + Agreeable as was the occupation to which for two hours he had devoted + himself, M. Moriaz had not forgotten the existence of his daughter and of + M. Larinski. He knew that Antoinette had repaired to Maisons Lafitte to + have an explanation with Mme. de Lorcy, and this thought cast a shadow + over his felicity. He hoped, however, that this interview might turn out + according to his wishes; that the Pole star, which had caused him so much + disquietude, might disappear forever from his horizon. + </p> + <p> + Some one knocked at the door of his laboratory. “Come in!” he cried, and + turning he saw Antoinette standing upon the threshold. He gazed at her + fixedly. Her eye was so animated, her countenance so beaming, so luminous, + that involuntarily he dropped his arms and let fall, as he did so, a + little vial he held in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Naughty girl, to cause such havoc in her father’s laboratory!” she cried, + gaily. + </p> + <p> + “The harm done is not very great,” he replied; and he began diligently + brushing up the fragments of the vial. It was his way of gaining time, but + he did it so awkwardly that she snatched the brush from his hands: “This + is the way to sweep,” said she. + </p> + <p> + He watched her, saying to himself: “This is the reverse of the scene at + Churwalden. It is now I who wear a long face, and she cannot dissemble her + joy. Just requital of things here below.” + </p> + <p> + So soon as she had finished her brushing she looked around and remarked: + “Well, here you are once more in your paradise—this enchanted spot, + where you taste such ineffable delights.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I am happy here—happy enough that is,” he replied, with + modesty. + </p> + <p> + “Fastidious creature! It is altogether charming in your laboratory.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is suitable. Nevertheless, I often reflect that there is + something wanting. Do you know what my dream is? I should like to have + over in yonder corner a transparent <i>chapelle</i>. You, perhaps, are + unacquainted with a <i>chapelle</i>. It is a framework or basket-funnel + above a chimney, for facilitating the release of volatiles and pernicious + vapours, and having one side of glass. It enables the chemist to watch the + process taking place within. German chemists have nearly always + transparent <i>chapelles</i> in their laboratories.” + </p> + <p> + “How can any one accuse you of lack of imagination?” she exclaimed. “You + are a very romantic man, and your romance is a transparent <i>chapelle</i>. + Now I know why you are so indulgent to the romances of others.” + </p> + <p> + Then carelessly drawing the brush in her hand over an arm-chair, she + seated herself in it, placed another seat facing her, and said: “Come, sit + down here near me on this stool; I will put a cushion on it to make you + more comfortable. Come, I must talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + He drew near, seated himself, and put his ear towards her. “Must I take + off my apron?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “I foresee that our conversation will revolve about matters pertaining to + the height of romance. I wish to make a suitable appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! your apron is very becoming. All that I desire and stipulate + is, that you will accord me most religious attention.” + </p> + <p> + She then proceeded to recount to him, point by point, all that had + occurred at Mme. de Lorcy’s. She began her recital in a tranquil tone; she + grew animated; she warmed up by degrees; her eyes sparkled. He listened to + her with deep chagrin; but he gazed on her with pride as he did so, + thinking, “<i>Mon Dieu</i>, how beautiful she is, and what a lucky rascal + is this Pole!” + </p> + <p> + When she had ended, there was a moment’s pause, during which she left him + to his reflections. As he maintained an ominous silence, she grew + impatient. “Speak,” she exclaimed. “I wish to know your innermost + thoughts.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are adorable.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! please, do for once be serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously,” he rejoined, “I am not certain that you are wrong, nor has it + been proved to me that you are right; there remain some doubts.” + </p> + <p> + She cried out eagerly: “According to this, the sole realities of this + world are things that can be seen, touched, felt—a retort and its + contents. Beyond this all is null and void, a lie, a cheat. Ah! your + wretched retorts and crucibles! If I followed out this thought, I should + be ready to break every one of them.” + </p> + <p> + She cast about her as she spoke so ferocious and threatening a look, that + M. Moriaz trembled for his laboratory, “I beg of you,” he protested, “have + mercy on my poor crucibles, my honest retorts, my innocent jars! They have + nothing to do with this affair. Is it their fault that the stories you + narrate to me so disturb my usual train of thoughts that I find it wholly + impossible to make adroit replies?” + </p> + <p> + “You do not, then, believe in the extraordinary?” + </p> + <p> + “The extraordinary! Every time I encounter it, I salute it,” replied he, + drawing off his cap and bowing low; “but at the same time I demand its + papers.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! there we are. I really imagined that the investigation had been + made.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not conclusive, since it failed to convince Mme. de Lorcy.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! who could convince Mme. de Lorcy? Do you forget how people of the + world are constituted, and how they detest all that astonishes, all that + exceeds their limits, all that they cannot weight with their small + balances, measure with their tiny compasses?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Peste!</i> you are severe on the world; I always fancied that you were + fond of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know whether I am fond of it or not; it is certain that I + scarcely should know how to live without it; but I surely may be permitted + to pass an opinion on it, and I often tell myself that if Christ should + reappear among us with his train of publicans and fisherman—are you + listening?—that if the meek and the lowly Jesus should come to + preach his Sermon on the Mount in the Boulevard des Italiens—” + </p> + <p> + “To make a show of probability,” he interrupted, “suppose you were to + place the scene at Montmartre. Frankly, I cannot see what possible + connection there can be between the Christ and your Count Larinski; and, + pray, do not let us enter into a theological discussion; you know it is + wholly out of my line. Religion seems to me an excellent thing, a most + useful thing, and I freely accept Christianity, minus the romantic side, + with which I have no time to occupy myself. You will at least grant me + that, if there are true miracles, there are also false ones. How + distinguish them?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the heart that must decide,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the infallibility of the heart!” exclaimed he. “There never was + council yet that voted that.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, after which M. Moriaz resumed: “And so, my dear, you + are persuaded that M. Larinski is still free, and that Mme. de Lorcy + lied?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; if she had lied, she would not have betrayed herself so + naively just now. I accuse her of deceiving herself, or rather of having + wished to deceive herself. Do you know what you are going to do—I + mean this evening—after dinner? You are going to order up the + carriage, and you are going—” + </p> + <p> + “To Paris, Rue Mont-Thabor!” he exclaimed, bounding up in his seat. “Very + good, I will put on a dress-coat, and I will say to Count Larinski: ‘My + dear monsieur, I come to demand your hand for my daughter, who adores you. + Certain malicious tongues assert that you are no longer free; I do not + believe them; besides, this would be a mere bagatelle.’ On the whole, I + believe you would do better to put it down in writing for me; left to + myself I never will get through with it; out of my professor’s chair I + have considerable difficulty in finding words!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, how hasty you are! Who suggests such a thing? Abbe Miollens is + our friend; he is a worthy man, whose testimony would be reliable.” + </p> + <p> + “Now this is something like! I see what you mean. At this rate you will + not need to prepare my harangue. Here we have an acceptable idea, a + possible interview. This evening, after my dinner, I shall go see Abbe + Miollens; but it is clearly understood, I presume, that if he confirms the + sentence—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not ask for its repeal, and I promise you that I will be + courageous beyond anything that you can imagine; you shall not so much as + suspect that I even regret my chimera. But, as a fair exchange, you on + your side must make me a promise. If Abbe Miollens—” + </p> + <p> + “You know as well as I that you are of age.” + </p> + <p> + “I know as well as you that I never will be content without your consent. + Here once more as in the Engadine, I say, ‘Either he or no one.’” + </p> + <p> + “Did I not warn you that when once a formula has been pronounced, one is + apt to keep on repeating it forever?” + </p> + <p> + “Either he or no one: that is my last word. Would you not rather that it + should be he? Are you willing to accept him?” + </p> + <p> + “I will submit.” + </p> + <p> + “With a good grace?” + </p> + <p> + “With resignation.” + </p> + <p> + “With cheerful resignation?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall certainly do my best to acquire it; or, rather, if he makes you + happy, I shall welcome him all the days of my life; in the contrary case, + I will repeat, morning and evening, like Mme. de Lorcy: ‘You would not + listen to me; you ought to have believed me.’” + </p> + <p> + “It is agreed; you are a good father, and now we are in perfect harmony,” + she replied, impulsively seizing his two hands, and pressing them in her + own. + </p> + <p> + He watched her a moment between his half-closed eyes, and then he cried, + half resentfully: + </p> + <p> + “But, <i>mon Dieu</i> why do you love this man?” + </p> + <p> + She replied, in a low voice: “Because I love him; this is my sole reason; + but I find it good.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly most decisive. But, come, let us go quickly,” he replied, + rising. “I fear that my retorts and crucibles, if they listen to you much + longer, will fall into a syncope as prolonged as that of M. Larinski. Was + ever such a debate heard of in a chemical laboratory?” + </p> + <p> + As soon as dinner was over, M. Moriaz made ready to repair to Maisons, + where Abbe Miollens passed the summer in the vicinity of Mme. de Lorcy. + Mlle. Moiseney followed him to the carriage, and said: + </p> + <p> + “You have a remarkable daughter, monsieur! With what courage she has + assumed her role! With what resolution she has renounced an impossible + happiness! Did you observe her during dinner? How tranquil she was! how + attentive! Is she not astonishing?” + </p> + <p> + “As astonishing as you are sagacious,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! undoubtedly; I never thought that she loved him so much as you + imagine I did: but he pleased her; she admired him. Did she ever utter a + word of complaint, or a sigh, on learning the cruel truth? what strength + of mind! what equability of temperament! what nobility of sentiment! You + do not admire her enough, monsieur; you are not proud enough of having + such a daughter. As to me, I glory in having been of some value in her + education. I always made a point of developing her judgment, and putting + her on her guard against all erratic tendencies. Yes, I can safely say + that I took great pains to cultivate and fortify her reason.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you with all my heart,” rejoined M. Moriaz, leaning back in one + corner of the carriage; “you can most assuredly boast of having + accomplished a marvellous work; but I beg of you, mademoiselle, when you + have finished your discourse, will you kindly say to the coachman that I + am ready to start?” + </p> + <p> + During the drive, M. Moriaz gave himself up to the most melancholy + reflections; he even tormented himself with sundry reproaches. “We have + acted contrary to good sense,” he thought. “Her imagination has been taken + by storm; in time it would have calmed down. We should have left her to + herself, to her natural defence—her own good judgment, for she has a + large stock of it. I fell on the unlucky idea of calling Mme. de Lorcy to + my aid, and she has spoiled everything by her boasted <i>finesse</i>. As + soon as Antoinette had reason to suspect that her choice was condemned by + us, and that we were plotting the enemy’s destruction, the sympathy, + mingled with admiration, which she accorded to M. Larinski, became + transformed into love; the fire smouldering beneath ashes leaped up into + flames. We neglected to count on that passion which is innate in women, + and which phrenologists call combativeness. With her there is now a cause + to be gained, and, when love unites its interests with cards or with war, + it becomes irresistible. Truly our campaign is greatly jeopardized, unless + Heaven or M. Larinski interfere.” + </p> + <p> + Thus reasoned M. Moriaz, whom paternal misadventures and recent + experiences had rendered a better psychologist than he ever had been. + While busied with his reflections the carriage drove rapidly onward, and + thirty-five minutes sufficed to reach the little <i>maison de campagne</i> + occupied by Abbe Miollens. He found him in his cabinet, installed in a + cushioned arm-chair embroidered by Mme. de Lorcy, slowly sipping a cup of + excellent tea brought him by the missionaries from China. On his left was + his violin-box, on his right his beloved Horace, Orelli’s edition, Zurich, + 1844. + </p> + <p> + Conversation began. As soon as M. Moriaz had pronounced the name of Count + Larinski, the abbe assumed the charmed and contented countenance of a dog + lying in wait for its favourite game. + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed, “A most truly admirable man!” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy upon us!” thought M. Moriaz. “Here we have an exordium strangely + similar to that of Mlle. Moiseney. Do they think to condemn me to a state + of perpetual admiration of their prodigy? I fear there must be some + kinship of spirit between our friend the abbe and that crack-brained + woman; that he is cousin-german to her at least.” + </p> + <p> + “How grateful I am to you, my dear monsieur,” continued Abbe Miollens, + lying back in his chair, “for having given us the pleasure of the + acquaintance of this rare man! It is you who sent him to us; to you + belongs the merit of having discovered him, or invented him, if you + choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I beg of you not to exaggerate,” humbly rejoined M. Moriaz. “He + invented himself, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “At all events it was you who patronized him, who made him known to us; + without you the world never would have suspected the existence of this + superb genius, this noble character, who was hidden from sight like the + violet in the grass.” + </p> + <p> + “He is unquestionably her cousin-german,” thought M. Moriaz. + </p> + <p> + “Only think,” continued the abbe, “I have found M. Larinski all over again + in Horace! Yes, Horace has represented him, trait for trait, in the person + of Lollius. You know Marcus Lollius, to whom he addressed Ode ix. of book + iv., and who was consul in the year 733 after the foundation of Rome. The + resemblance is striking; pay attention!” + </p> + <p> + Depositing his cup on the table he took the book in his right hand, and + placing the forefinger of his left by turns on his lips or complacently + following with it the lines of especial beauty in the text, he exclaimed: + “Now what do you say to this? ‘Thy soul is wise,’ wrote Horace to Lollius, + ‘and resists with the same constancy the temptations of happiness as those + of adversity—<i>est animus tibi et secundis temporibus dubusque + rectus</i>.’ Is not this Count Larinski? Listen further: ‘Lollius detested + fraud and cupidity; he despised money which seduces most men—<i>abstinens + ducentis ad se cuncta pecuniae</i>.’ This trait is very striking; I find + even, between ourselves, that our dear count despises money entirely too + much, he turns from it in horror, its very name is odious to him; he is an + Epictetus, he is a Diogenes, he is an anchorite of ancient times who would + live happily in a Thebaid. He told us himself that it made little + difference to him whether he dined on a piece of bread and a glass of + water, or in luxury at the Café Anglais. But I have not finished. ‘Happy + be those,’ exclaimed Horace, ‘who know how to suffer uncomplainingly the + hardships of poverty—<i>qui duram que callet pauperiem pati</i>!’ Of + whom does he speak—of Lollius, or of our friend, who not only + endures his poverty but who loves it, cherishes it as a lover adores his + mistress? And the final trait, what to you think of it? Lollius was always + ready to die for his country—‘<i>non ille pro patria timidus perire</i>.’ + In good faith, is it not curious? Does it not seem as though Horace had + known Count Larinski at Rome or at Tibur?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not doubt it for an instant,” replied M. Moriaz, taking the book + from the hands of Abbe Miollens and placing it respectfully on the table. + “Luckily, our friend Larinski, as you call him, fell upon the excellent + idea of resuscitating himself some thirty years ago, which procured for us + the great joy of meeting him at Saint Moritz; and while we are on the + subject—My dear abbe, have you a free, impartial mind? Can you + listen to me? I have a question to propound, an elucidation to demand. It + is not only the friend to whom I address myself, it is the confessor, the + director of consciences, the man of the whole universe in whose discretion + I place most reliance.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all ears,” responded the abbe, crossing the shapely legs in which he + took no little pride. + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz entered at once into the subject that troubled him. It was some + moments before Abbe Miollens divined whither he was tending. As soon as he + had grasped a ray of light, his face contracted, and uncrossing his limbs, + he cried: “Ah, what a misfortune! You will have to renounce your + delightful dream, my dear Monsieur, and, believe me, no one can be more + grieved than I. I fully comprehend with what joy you would have seen your + charming daughter consecrate, I will not say her fortune, for you know as + well as I how little Count Larinski would care for that, but consecrate, I + say, her graces, her beauty, and all the qualities of her angelic + character to the happiness of a man of rare merit who has been cruelly + scourged by Providence. She loves him, she is loved by him; Heaven would + have blest their union. Ah, what a misfortune! I must repeat it, this + marriage is impossible; our friend is already married.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of it?” cried M. Moriaz, in a burst of enthusiasm that the + good abbe mistook for an access of despair. + </p> + <p> + “I scarcely can pardon myself for causing you this pain. You ask if I am + sure of it! I have it from our friend himself. One evening, apropos of I + scarcely remember what, it occurred to me to ask if he were married, and + he replied, briefly: ‘I thought I had told you so.’ Ah! my dear professor, + it were needless to discuss whether such a marriage would be a happy one, + for it never can take place.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now we have something positive,” M. Moriaz hastened to observe, + “and there is nothing to do but yield to evidence.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes,” rejoined the abbe; and, then, after a pause, during which he + wore a reflective air, he added, “However—” + </p> + <p> + “There is no ‘however,’ M. l’Abbe. Believe me, your word suffices.” + </p> + <p> + “But I might possibly have misunderstood.” + </p> + <p> + “I have entire confidence in your ears—they are excellent.” + </p> + <p> + “But pray allow me to observe that it is never worth while to despair too + soon. Do you know what? Count Larinski came recently to see me without + finding me at home. I owe him a farewell visit. To-morrow morning, I + promise you, I will call on him.” + </p> + <p> + “For what purpose?” interrupted M. Moriaz. “I thank you a thousand times + for your kindly intentions, but God forbid that I should uselessly + interfere with your daily pursuits; your time is too precious! I declare + myself completely edified. I consider the proof firmly established; there + is no further doubt.” + </p> + <p> + As Madame de Lorcy had remarked, Abbe Miollens was not one to easily relax + his hold upon an idea he had once deemed good. In vain M. Moriaz combated + his proposition, bestowing secret maledictions on his excess of zeal; the + abbe would not give up, and M. Moriaz was forced to be resigned. It was + agreed that the next day the worthy man should call on Count Larinski, and + that from Paris he should repair to Cormeilles, in order to communicate to + the proper person the result of his mission. M. Moriaz perceived the + advantage of having Antoinette learn from the abbe’s own lips the fatal + truth; and he did not leave without impressing upon him to be very + circumspect, as prudent as a serpent, as discreet as a father confessor. + He started for home with quite a contented mind, seeing the future lie + smoothly and pleasantly before him, and it really seemed to him that the + drive from Maisons to Cormeilles was a much shorter and more agreeable one + than that from Cormeilles to Maisons. + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl was seated before an empty trunk, which he was apparently + about to pack, when he heard some one knock at his door. He went to open + it and found himself face to face with Abbe Miollens. From the moment of + their first meeting, Samuel Brohl had conceived for the abbe that warm + sympathy, that strong liking, with which he was always inspired by people + in whom he believed he recognised useful animals who might be of advantage + to him, whom he considered destined to render him some essential service. + He seldom mistook; he was a admirable diagnostician; he recognised at + first sight the divine impress of predestination. He gave the most cordial + reception to his reverend friend, and ushered him into his modest quarters + with all the more <i>empressement</i>, because he detected at once the + mysterious, rather agitated air he wore. “Does he come in the quality of a + diplomatic agent, charged with some mission extraordinary?” he asked + himself. On his side the abbe studied Samuel Brohl without seeming to do + so. He was struck with his physiognomy, which expressed at this moment a + manly yet sorrowful pride. His eyes betrayed at intervals the secret of + some heroic grief that he had sworn to repress before men, and to confess + to God alone. + </p> + <p> + He sat down with his guest, and they began to talk; but the abbe directed + the conversation into topics of the greatest indifference. Samuel Brohl + listened to him and replied with a melancholy grace. Lively as was his + curiosity he well knew how to hold it in check. Samuel Brohl never had + been in a hurry; during the month that had elapsed he had proved that he + knew how to wait—a faculty lacking in more diplomates than one. + </p> + <p> + Abbe Miollens’s call had lasted during the usual time allotted to a polite + visit, and the worthy man seemed about to depart, when, pointing with his + forefinger to the open valise, he remarked: “I see here preparations that + grieve me. I did dream, my dear count, of inviting you to Maisons. I have + a spare chamber there which I might offer to you. <i>Hoc erat in votis</i>, + I should indeed have been happy to have had you for a guest. We should + have chatted and made music to our hearts’ content, close by a window + opening on a garden. ‘Hae latebrae dulces, etiam, si credis, amoenae.’ + But, alas! you are going to leave us; you do not care for the friendship + accorded you here. Has Vienna such superior attractions for you? But I + remember, you will doubtless be restored there to a pleasant home, a + charming wife, children perhaps who——” + </p> + <p> + Samuel looked at him with an astonished, confused air, as he had viewed + Mme. de Lorcy when she undertook to speak to him of the Countess Larinski. + “What do you mean?” he finally asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, did you not confide to me yourself that you were married?” + </p> + <p> + Samuel opened wide his eyes; during some moments he seemed to be in a + dream; then, suddenly putting his hand to his brow and beginning to smile, + he said: “Ah! I see—I see. Did you take me literally? I thought you + understood what I said. No, my dear abbe, I am not married, and I never + shall marry; but there are free unions as sacred, as indissoluble as + marriage.” + </p> + <p> + The abbe knit his brows, his countenance assumed an expression of chagrin + and disapproval. He was about delivering to his dear count a sermon on the + immorality and positive danger of free unions, but Samuel Brohl gave him + no time. “I am not going to Vienna to rejoin my mistress,” he interposed. + “She never leaves me, she accompanies me everywhere; she is here.” + </p> + <p> + Abbe Miollens cast about him a startled, bewildered gaze, expecting to see + a woman start out of some closet or come forward from behind some curtain. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you that she is here,” repeated Samuel Brohl, pointing to an + alabaster statuette, posed on a <i>piedouche</i>. The statuette + represented a woman bound tightly, on whom two Cossacks were inflicting + the knout; the socle bore the inscription, “Polonia vincta et flagellata.” + </p> + <p> + The abbe’s countenance became transformed in the twinkling of an eye, the + wrinkles smoothed away from his brow, his mouth relaxed, a joyous light + shone in his eyes. “How well it is that I came!” thought he. “And under + what obligations M. Moriaz will be to me!” + </p> + <p> + Turning towards Samuel he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I am simply a fool; I imagined—Ah! I comprehend, your mistress is + Poland; this is delightful, and it is truly a union that is as sacred as + marriage. It has, besides, this advantage—that it interferes with + nothing else. Poland is not jealous, and if, peradventure, you should meet + a woman worthy of you whom you would like to marry, your mistress would + have nothing to say against it. To speak accurately, however, she is not + your mistress; one’s country is one’s mother, and reasonable mothers never + prevent their sons from marrying.” + </p> + <p> + It was now Samuel’s turn to assume a stern and sombre countenance. His eye + fixed upon the statuette, he replied: + </p> + <p> + “You deceive yourself, M. l’Abbe, I belong to her, I have no longer the + right to dispose of either my heart, or my soul, or my life; she will have + my every thought and my last drop of blood. I am bound to her by my vows + quite as much, I think, as is the monk by his.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, my dear count,” said the abbe; “this is fanaticism, or I + greatly mistake. Since when have patriots come to take the vow of + celibacy? Their first duty is to become the fathers of children who will + become good citizens. The day when there will cease to be Poles, there + will cease also to be a Poland.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl interrupted him, pressing his arm earnestly, and saying: + </p> + <p> + “Look at me well; have I not the appearance of an adventurer?” The abbe + recoiled. “This word shocks you?” continued Samuel. “Yes, I am a man of + adventures, born to be always on my feet, and ready to start off at a + moment’s warning. Marriage was not instituted for those whose lives are + liable at any time to be in jeopardy.” With a tragic accent, he added: + “You know what occurred in Bosnia. How do we know that war may not very + shortly be proclaimed, and who can foresee the consequences? I must hold + myself in readiness for the great day. Perhaps an inscrutable Providence + may ere long offer me a new occasion to risk my life for my country; + perhaps Poland will call me, crying, ‘Come, I have need of thee!’ If I + should respond: ‘I belong no more to myself, I have given my heart to a + woman who holds me in chains; I have henceforth a roof, a family, a + hearthstone, dear ties that I dare not break!’ I ask you, M. l’Abbe, would + not Poland have a right to say to me, ‘Thou hast violated thy vow; thou + hast denied me; upon thy head rest forever my maledictions?’” + </p> + <p> + Abbe Miollens had just taken a pinch of snuff, and he hearkened to this + harangue, tapping his fingers impatiently on the lid of his handsome gold + snuff-box, which had been presented to him by the most amiable of his + penitents. + </p> + <p> + “If this be the way you view it,” replied he, “is your conscience quite + tranquil, my dear friend? for you will permit me, I trust, to call you so. + Ay, is it sure that from your standpoint your conscience has no + accusations to make you? Is it certain that your heart has not been + unfaithful to its mistress? If I may believe a certain rumour that has + reached my ear, there took place a most singular scene yesterday at the + house of Mme. de Lorcy.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl trembled violently; he changed colour; he buried his face in + his hands, doubtless to hide from the abbe the blushes remorse had caused + to mantle his cheeks. In a faint voice he murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Not a word more! you know not how deep a wound you have probed.” + </p> + <p> + “It is, then, true that you love Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz?” asked the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “I have sworn that she never shall know it,” replied Samuel, in accents of + the most humble contrition. “Yesterday I had the unworthy weakness to + betray myself. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> what must she have thought of me?” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke thus, his face buried in his hands, he slightly moved apart + his fingers, and fixed upon the abbe two glittering eyes that, like cats’ + eyes, were capable of seeing clearly in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “What she thinks of you!” echoed the abbe, taking a fresh pinch of snuff. + “Bah! my dear count, women never are angry when a man swoons away because + of their bright eyes, especially when this man is a noble chevalier, a + true knight of the Round Table. I have reason to believe that Mlle. Moriaz + did not take your accident unkindly. Shall I tell you my whole thought? I + should not be surprised if you had touched her heart, and that, if you + take the pains, you may flatter yourself with the hope of one day being + loved by her.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the voice of his worthy friend appeared to Samuel Brohl the + most harmonious of all music. He felt a delicious thrill quiver through + his frame. The abbe was telling him nothing he had not known before; but + there are things of which we are certain, things that we have told + ourselves a hundred times, and yet that seem new when told us for the + first time by another. + </p> + <p> + “You are not misleading me?” ejaculated Samuel Brohl, overwhelmed with + joy, transported beyond himself. “Can it really be true!—One day I + may flatter myself—one day she may judge me worthy—Ah! what a + glorious vision you cause to pass before my eyes! How good and cruel + together you are to me! What bitterness is intermingled with the ineffable + sweetness of your words! No, I never could have believed that there could + be so much joy in anguish, so much anguish in joy.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you imply, my dear count?” interposed Abbe Miollens. “Have you + need of a negotiator? I can boast of having had some experience in that + line. I am wholly at your service.” + </p> + <p> + These words calmed Samuel Brohl. Quickly recovering himself, he coldly + rejoined: + </p> + <p> + “A negotiator? What occasion would I have for a negotiator? Do not delude + me with a chimera, and above all do not tempt me to sacrifice my honour to + it. This height of felicity that you offer to me I must renounce forever; + I have told you why.” + </p> + <p> + Abbe Miollens was at first inclined to be indignant; he even took the + liberty to rebuke, to expostulate with his noble friend. He endeavoured to + prove to him that his principles were too rigorous, that such a thing is + possible as exaggeration in virtue, too great refinement in delicacy of + conscience. He represented to him that noble souls should beware of + exaltation of sentiment. He cited the Gospels, he cited Bossuet, he also + cited his well-beloved Horace, who censored all that was ultra or + excessive, and recommended the sage to flee all extremities. His reasoning + was weak against the unwavering resolution of Samuel, who resisted, with + the firmness of a rock, all his remonstrances, and finally ended these + with the words: + </p> + <p> + “Peace, I implore you! Respect my folly, which is surely wisdom in the + eyes of God. I repeat it to you, I am no longer free, and, even if I were, + do you not know that there is between Mlle. Moriaz and myself an + insurmountable barrier?” + </p> + <p> + “And pray, what is that?” demanded the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Her fortune and my pride,” said Samuel. “She is rich, I am poor; this + adorable being is not made for me. I told Mme. de Lorcy one day what I + thought of this kind of alliances, or, to speak more clearly, of bargains. + Yes, my revered friend, I love Mlle. Moriaz with an ardour of passion with + which I reproach myself as though it were a crime. Nothing remains to me + but to avoid seeing her, and I never will see her again. Let me follow to + its end my solitary and rugged path. One consolation will accompany me: I + can say that happiness has not been denied to me: that it is my + conscience, admonished from on high, which has refused to accept it, and + there is a divine sweetness in great trials religiously accepted. Believe + me, it is God who speaks to me, as he spoke to me of old in San Francisco, + to enjoin me to forsake everything and give my blood for my country. I + recognise his voice, which to-day bids my heart be silent and immolate + itself on the altar of its chosen cause. God and Poland! Beyond this, my + watch-word, I have no longer the right to yield to anything.” + </p> + <p> + And, turning towards the statuette, he exclaimed: “It is at her feet that + I lay down my dolorous offering; she it is who will cure my bruised and + broken heart.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl spoke in a voice thrilling with emotion; the breath of the + Divine Spirit seemed to play through his hair, and make his eyes grow + humid. The eyes of the good abbe also grew moist: he was profoundly moved; + he gazed with veneration upon this hero; he was filled with respect for + this antique character, for this truly celestial soul. He never had seen + anything like it, either in the odes or in the epistles of Horace. Lollius + himself was surpassed. Transported with admiration, he opened wide his + arms to Samuel Brohl, spreading them out their full length, as though + otherwise they might fail to accomplish their object, and, clasping him to + his bosom, he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear count, how grand you are! You are immense as the world!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Abbe Miollens hastened to repair to Cormeilles, where he gave a faithful + circumstantial account of his conference with Count Larinski. He was still + warm from the interview, and he gave free vent to the effusions of his + enthusiasm. He struck up a Canticle of Zion in honour of the antique soul, + the celestial soul, which had just been revealing to him all its hidden + treasures. M. Moriaz, both astonished and scandalized, observed, dryly: + </p> + <p> + “You are right, this Pole is a prodigy; he should either be canonized or + hanged, I do not know which.” + </p> + <p> + Antoinette said not a word; she kept her reflections to herself. She + retired to her chamber, where she paced to and fro for some time, + uncertain regarding what she was about to do, or, rather more restless + than uncertain. Several times she approached her writing-table, and gazed + earnestly at her inkstand; then, seized with a sudden scruple, she would + move away. At last she formed a resolute decision, seized her pen, and + wrote the following lines: + </p> + <p> + “MONSIEUR: Before setting out for Vienna, will you be so good as to come + and pass some moments at Cormeilles? I desire to have a conversation with + you in the presence of my father. + </p> + <p> + “Accept, monsieur, I beg of you, the expression of my most profound + esteem. + </p> + <p> + “ANTOINETTE MORIAZ.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning she received by the first mail the response she awaited, + and which was thus fashioned: + </p> + <p> + “This test would be more than my courage could endure. I never shall see + you again, for, should I do so, I would be a lost man.” + </p> + <p> + This short response caused Mlle. Moriaz a disappointment full of + bitterness, and blended with no little wrath. She held in her hand a + pencil, which she deliberately snapped in two, apparently to console + herself for not having broken the proud and obstinate will of Count Abel + Larinski. And yet can one break iron or a diamond? The carrier had brought + her at the same time another letter, which she opened mechanically, merely + to satisfy her conscience. She ran through the first lines without + succeeding in comprehending a single word that she read. Suddenly her + attention became riveted, her face brightened up, her eyes kindled. This + letter, which a kind Providence had sent her as a supreme resource in her + distress, was from the hand of Mlle. Galet, and here was what this retired + florist of the Rue Mouffetard wrote: + </p> + <p> + “MA CHERE DEMOISELLE: I learn that you have returned. What happiness for + me! and how I long to see you! You are my good angel, whom I should like + to see every day of my life, and the time has seemed so long to me without + you. When you enter the garret of the poor, infirm old woman, it seems to + her as though there were three suns in the heavens; when you abandon her, + the blackness of midnight surrounds her. Mme. de Lorcy has been very good + to me. As my angel requested her, she came a fortnight since to pay me the + quarter due of my pension. She is a very charitable lady, and she dresses + beautifully; but she is a little hard on poor people. She asks a great + many questions; she wants to know everything. She reproached me with + spending too much, being too fond of luxury, and you know how that is. She + forgets that everything is higher priced than it used to be, that meat and + vegetables are exorbitant, and that just now eggs cost one franc and fifty + centimes a dozen. Besides, a poor creature, deprived of the use of her + limbs, as I am, cannot go to market herself, and it is quite possible that + my <i>femme de menage</i> does not purchase as wisely as she might. I know + I have great scenes with her sometimes for bringing me early vegetables; + <i>le bon Dieu</i> can, at least, bear me witness that I am no glutton. + </p> + <p> + “The good Mme. de Lorcy scolded me about a bouquet of camellias she saw on + my table, just like those for which I have been grateful to my angel. I + don’t know what notions she got into her head about them. Ah! well, <i>ma + chere demoiselle</i>, I have learned since that these double camellias—they + are variegated, red and white—came to me from a man, for, at + present, as it would appear, men have taken to give me bouquets and making + me visits; it is rather late in the day. The particular man to whom I + refer presented himself one fine morning, and, telling me that you had + spoken to him of me, said that he wished to assure himself that I was well + and wanted nothing. He returned several times, always pampering me with + some attention or other. But the best of all was when he came to tell me + that my angel had returned. What a man he is! he has surely dropped right + down from the skies! One evening when I was sick he gave me my medicine + himself, and would have sat up with me all night if I had been willing to + let him. You must tell me who he is, for it puzzles me greatly. He has the + head of some grand lion; he is as generous as he is handsome, but very + sad. He must have some great sorrow on his heart. The misfortune, so far + as I am concerned, is that he cannot spoil me much longer—it is + almost over now. He expects to leave here in two days; and he has + announced to me that he will come to make his adieus, to-morrow afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “You will come soon, won’t you, <i>ma chere demoiselle</i>? I burn with + impatience to embrace you, since you permit me to embrace you. You are my + angel and my sunshine, and I am your very humble and devoted servant, + </p> + <p> + “LOUISE GALET.” + </p> + <p> + This letter of Mlle. Louise Galet continued nothing definite, beyond, + perhaps, the passage relative to the early vegetables, and the supposed + scenes with her <i>chambriere</i>. Whatever may have been the good + demoiselle’s past record, she certainly was not void of principles, and + she prided herself on her truthfulness; only she did not always see the + necessity of telling everything she knew; in her narratives she frequently + omitted certain details. She had written at the instigation of Samuel + Brohl, who had not explained to her his motives. To be sure, she had + partially divined these, being shrewd and sly. He had commended himself to + her discretion, for which he had paid liberally. Mlle. Galet had at first + refused the round sum he had offered her; she had ended by accepting it + with tender gratitude. These little pampering attentions make good + friends. + </p> + <p> + An audacious idea suddenly came to Mlle. Moriaz; there was no time to + recoil from it. She ordered up her coupe. M. Moriaz had just gone out to + make a call in the neighbourhood. She determined to profit by his absence, + and besought Mlle. Moiseney to make ready in haste to accompany her to + Paris, where she had to confer with her dressmaker. Ten minutes later she + stepped into her carriage, having ordered her coachman to drive like the + wind. + </p> + <p> + Her dressmaker did not detain her long; from the Rue de la Paix she + ordered to be driven to No. 27 Rue Mouffetard. She never was in the habit + of permitting Mlle. Moiseney, who was very short of breath, to climb with + her to the fifth story, where Mlle. Galet lodged; upon this occasion she + indicated to her an express order to remain peaceably below in the coupe + to await her return. + </p> + <p> + She slowly mounted the stairs; on her way up she encountered a servant, + who informed her that Mlle. Galet was lying down taking a nap, being + somewhat indisposed, but that the key was in the door. The apartment of + which Mlle. Moriaz was in quest was composed of three rooms, a vestibule + serving as a kitchen, a tiny <i>salon</i>, and a bed-chamber. She paused a + few moments in the vestibule to regain her breath, to gather together all + her courage, to compose her mind; she had at once divined that there was + some one in the <i>salon</i>. She entered; Mlle. Galet was not there, but + he was there, the man whom she had come to seek. Apparently, he awaited + the awakening of the mistress of the place. In perceiving the woman whom + he had sworn never to see again, he trembled violently, and his eyes + sought some loophole of escape; there was none. Standing upon the + threshold, Antoinette barred the passage. She looked fixedly at him and + felt certain of her victory; he had the air of one vanquished, and his + defeat resembled a complete routing. + </p> + <p> + She crossed her arms, she smiled, and, in a firm, half-mocking tone, said: + </p> + <p> + “So this is the way you rob me of my poor people! They flourish under it, + I am well aware. Confess now that there is a little hypocrisy in your + virtue. Mlle. Galet never for a moment doubted that these famous camellias + were given for my sake. Bouquets costing sixty francs! absolute folly! How + you despise money! Why, then, do you not despise mine? You are afraid of + it, you fear to burn your fingers by touching it. You will not aid me to + throw it out of the windows? Your poor and mine will surely pick it up. + Say, will you not? My fortune is not such a great affair; but it is + certain that I alone do not suffice to spend it properly; there is plenty + for two—for two would really only be one. You cannot consent to + share it with me? You are too proud—that is it. The day before + yesterday you were playing comedy; you do not love me. It costs little to + owe something to those we love.” + </p> + <p> + He made a gesture of despair and cried: + </p> + <p> + “I implore you, let me go!” + </p> + <p> + “Presently; I propose telling you first all that is in my mind. I do not + place much reliance on your boasted nobility of spirit; it is pride, + egotistical pride. Yes, your pride is your god—a pitiful sort of a + god! And as to Poland—” He winced at this word. After a pause, + Antoinette continued: “It is she herself who will give, or rather lend, + you to me. I solemnly promise that if ever she has need of you I will say + to her, ‘Here he is, take him’; and to you, yourself, I will say, ‘She + calls you—go.’ But speak to me and look at me; you will not die of + so doing. Are you so very much afraid of me? Come, have courage to repeat + to me what you have said to others?” + </p> + <p> + He fell back into a chair, where he remained, his arms hanging helplessly + at his sides, his head drooping on his breast, and he murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I knew well that if I saw you again I should be lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, rather, saved. Your mind was sick; I have cured you. I work + miracles; you once took the pains to write me so. Will you touch my hand? + That will not bind you to anything; you can return it to me if you + choose.” + </p> + <p> + He took the hand she extended to him; he did not carry it to his lips, but + he held it within his own. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” she resumed. “To-day, this very hour, you will set out for + Cormeilles, and you will say to my father: ‘She has given me her hand; it + has seemed good to me to keep it; allow me to do so?’ Is it agreed upon? + Will you obey me?” + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed: “You are here, you speak to me, the world has disappeared; + henceforth I believe only in you!” + </p> + <p> + “Well done! You see when two people frankly discuss matters they soon come + to an understanding; but the main essential is to see each other. Since + you are so wise when you see me, I naturally desire to have you see me + always. There—take that!” And she handed him a medallion containing + her portrait; then she moved towards the door. On the threshold she + turned. “Please tell Mlle. Galet,” said she, “that I respect her nap, and + will return to-morrow. Mlle. Moiseney awaits me, and must be growing + impatient. I have your word of honour? Adieu, then, until this evening. I + must hasten away.” + </p> + <p> + And she did hasten, or, rather, she flew away. + </p> + <p> + Returning from as well as driving into Paris, the coachman put his horses + to full speed, and Cormeilles was reached before the soup was cold. + Nevertheless, M. Moriaz had had abundant time for anxiety. He did not take + his seat at table without first questioning Mlle. Moiseney; knowing + nothing, she could give him no information; but she responded indefinitely + to his queries with that air of mystery beneath which it was her wont to + disguise her ignorance. He resolved to question Antoinette after dinner. + She anticipated him, taking him aside and recounting to him what had + occurred. + </p> + <p> + “I presume,” said she, “that henceforth you will believe in his pride and + his disinterestedness. Did I not foretell you that I should have to put + myself on my knees to compel him to marry me?” + </p> + <p> + He could not repress a movement of indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, reassure yourself!” she resumed; “that is only my way of speaking. He + was at my feet and I was standing.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz opened his lips and closed them again three times without + speaking. He finally contented himself with a gesture, which signified, + “The die is cast, let come what must.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl religiously kept his word. After having made a most faultless + toilet, he repaired by the railway to Argenteuil, where he took a + carriage. He reached Cormeilles as the clock struck nine. He was ushered + into the <i>salon</i>, where M. Moriaz was reading his journal. Samuel was + pale, and his lips trembled with emotion. He greeted M. Moriaz with + profound respect, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I feel, monsieur, like a criminal. Be merciful, and refuse her to me.” + </p> + <p> + M. Moriaz replied: “The fact is, you come, monsieur, in the words of the + evangelist, ‘like a thief in the night’; but I have nothing to refuse you. + You are not the son-in-law I frankly avow, whom I should have chosen. This + matters not; my daughter belongs to herself, she is mistress of her own + actions, and I have no reason to believe that she errs in her choice. You + are a man of taste and of honour, and you know the worth of what she has + given you. If you render Antoinette happy, you will find in me a warm + friend. I have said all that is necessary; let us suppose that you have + replied to me, and talk of something else.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl considered the matter settled; he insisted no longer, and + entered at once upon another topic. He knew how to be agreeable and + dignified at the same time. He was as amiable and gracious as his lively + emotion would permit. M. Moriaz was obliged to confess to himself that + Count Larinski was as good company at Cormeilles as he had been at Saint + Moritz, and had no other fault than having taken it into his head to + become his son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + Their interview was a prolonged one. During this time Antoinette had been + promenading the walk in front of the house, inhaling the jasmine-perfumed + air, pouring out her heart to the night and to the stars. Her happy + reverie was troubled only by the presence of a bat, flitting incessantly + from one end of the terrace to the other, flapping its wings about her + head. The loathsome creature seemed to be especially in quest of her, + circling around and above her with obstinate persistency, even venturing + to graze her hair in passing; Antoinette even fancied that she could + distinguish its hideous face, with deep pouches and long ears, and she + moved away, quivering with disgust. + </p> + <p> + She heard a step on the gravel-walk. Samuel Brohl had taken leave of M. + Moriaz and was crossing the terrace to regain his carriage. He recognised + Antoinette, approached her and clasped on her wrist a bracelet he held in + his hand, saying as he did so: “What could I give you that would equal in + value the medallion you deigned to offer me and that should never leave + me? However, here is a trinket by which I set great store. My mother loved + it; she always refused to part with it, even in the time of her greatest + distress; she wore it on her arm when she died.” + </p> + <p> + We are not all moulded alike; and there is no human clay in which are not + intermingled some spangles of gold. Intriguers as well as downright knaves + are often capable of experiencing moments of sincere and pure sentiments; + in certain encounters every human being rises superior to him-or herself. + The upper part of Mlle. Moriaz’s face was shaded by her red hood, the + lower part lit up by the moon, which was slowly rising above the hills. + Samuel Brohl contemplated her in silence; she seemed to him as beautiful + as a dream. During two entire minutes he forgot that she had an income of + a hundred thousand livres, and that, according to all probabilities, M. + Moriaz would die one day. His head was completely turned by the thought + that this woman loved him, that soon she would be his. Yes, for precisely + two minutes, Samuel Brohl was as passionately in love with Mlle. Moriaz as + might, perchance, have been Count Larinski. + </p> + <p> + He could not resist the impulse that transported him. He folded in his + arms the slender, supple form of Antoinette, and imprinted upon her hair a + kiss of flame, a true Polish kiss. She offered no resistance; but at this + moment the bat that had already forced upon her its distasteful company + renewed the attack, struck her full in the face, and stuck fast in her + hood. Antoinette felt the touch of its cold, clammy wings, of its hooked + claws. She tore the hood from her head and flung it away in horror. Samuel + Brohl sprang forward to pick it up, pressed it to his lips, and made his + escape, like a thief carrying off his booty. + </p> + <p> + When Antoinette re-entered the <i>salon</i>, she found there Mlle. + Moiseney, whose boisterous, overwhelming joy had just put M. Moriaz to + flight. This time Mlle. Moiseney knew everything. She had seen Samuel + Brohl arrive, she had been unable to control her overweening curiosity, + and, without the slightest scruples, she had listened at the door. She + cast herself into Antoinette’s arms, pressed her to her heart, and cried: + “Ah, my dear! oh, my dear! Did I not always say that it would end thus?” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz hastened to free herself from her embraces; she felt the need + of being alone. On entering her chamber she took a hasty survey of it: her + furniture, her pretty knick-knacks, her rose-tined tapestry, the muslin + hangings of her bed, the large silver crucifix hanging on the extreme + wall, all seemed to regard her with astonishment, asking, “What has + happened?” And she replied: + </p> + <p> + “You are right, something has happened.” + </p> + <p> + She remained in contemplation before a portrait of her mother, whom she + had lost very young. + </p> + <p> + “I have been told,” she mused, “that you were a great romance-reader. I do + not care for romances at all—I scarcely ever read them; but I have + just been making one myself, with which you would not be discontented. + This man would astonish you a little; he would please you still more. Some + hours ago he seemed lost to me forever. I brazened it out. I went in + search of him, and when he saw me he surrendered. Only now he was with me + on the terrace; his lips touched me here on my hair, and thrilled me from + head to foot. Do not feel displeased with me—his are pure and royal + lips! They have been touched by the sacred fire; they never have lied; + never have there fallen from them other than proud and noble words; they + modestly recount the history of a life without blemish Ah! why are you not + here? I have a thousand things to say to you, which you alone could + comprehend; others do not comprehend me.” + </p> + <p> + She began her toilet for the night. When she had unfastened her hair, she + remembered that there was One in her chamber who could comprehend + everything, and to whom she had yet said nothing. She knelt down, her + wealth of hair streaming over her beautiful shoulders, her hands + reverently clasped, her eyes fixed on the silver crucifix, and she said, + in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me that I have forgotten thee, thou who never hast forgotten me! + I return thanks to thee that thou hast granted my desires; thou hast given + me the happiness of which I have dreamed without daring to ask it. Ah, + yes, I am happy, perfectly happy! I promise thee that I will cast the + reflection of my joy among the poor and unfortunate of this world: I will + love them as I have never loved them before! When we give them food and + drink, we give it also unto thee; and when we give them flowers, this + crown of thorns that has wounded thy brow bursts into bloom. I will give + them flowers and bread. It is vain to say that thou art a jealous God. + Full as may be my heart, thou knowest that there is always room for thee, + and that thou never canst knock at the door without my crying: ‘Enter; the + house and all that therein is belong unto thee! My happiness blesses thee: + oh, bless thou it!’” + </p> + <p> + While Mlle. Moriaz thus held communion with her crucifix, Samuel Brohl was + rolling along the great highway from Cormeilles to Argenteuil, a distance + of six kilometres. His head was held erect, his face was radiant, his eyes + were like balls of fire, his temples throbbed, and it seemed to him that + his dilated chest might have held the world. He was speaking to himself—murmuring + over and over again the same phrase. “She is mine!” he repeated to the + vines bordering the road, to the mill of Trouillet, to the Sannois Hills, + whose vague outlines loomed up against the sky. “She is mine!” he cried to + the moon, which this evening shone for him alone, whose sole occupation + was to gaze upon Samuel Brohl. It was plain to see that she was in the + secret, that she knew that before long Samuel Brohl would marry Mlle. + Moriaz. She had donned her festal garments to celebrate this marvellous + adventure; her great gleaming face expressed sympathy and joy. + </p> + <p> + Although he had exhorted his coachman to make haste, Samuel missed the + train, which was the last. He decided to put up for the night at + Argenteuil, and sought hospitality at the inn of the Coeur-Volant, where + he ordered served forthwith a great bowl of punch, his favourite drink. He + betook himself to bed in the full expectation of enjoying most delicious + dreams; but his sleep was troubled by a truly disagreeable incident. + Glorious days are at times succeeded by most wretched nights, and the inn + of Coeur-Volant was destined to leave most disagreeable reminiscences with + Samuel Brohl. + </p> + <p> + Towards four o’clock he heard some one knocking at his door, and a voice + not unknown to him cried: + </p> + <p> + “Open, I beseech you!” + </p> + <p> + He was seized with an insupportable anguish; he felt like one paralyzed, + and it was with great difficulty that he rose up in a sitting posture. He + remembered that the bolt was drawn, and this reassured him. What was not + his stupefied amazement to see the bolt glide back in its shaft! The door + opened; some one entered, slowly approached Samuel, drew back the curtains + of his bed, and bent towards him, fixing upon him great eager eyes that he + recognised. They were singular eyes, these, at once full of sweetness and + full of fire, of audacity and of candour; a child, a grand soul, an + unbalanced weakling—all this in one was in this gaze. + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl quailed with horror. He tried to speak, but his tongue was + powerless to move. He made desperate efforts to unloose it; he finally + succeeded in moving his lips, and he murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Abel? I believed you dead.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently Count Abel, the veritable Abel Larinski, was not dead. He was on + his feet, his eyes were terribly wide open, and his face never had worn + more life-like colouring. Nothing remained but to believe that he had been + buried alive, and that he had been resuscitated. In coming forth from the + tomb, he had carried with him a portion of its dust; his hair was covered + with a singular powder of an earthy hue, and at intervals he shook himself + as though to make it fall from him. + </p> + <p> + With the exception of this there was nothing alarming in his appearance; + but a mocking, half-crafty smile played about his lips. After a long + pause, he said to Samuel: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is indeed I. You did not expect me?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure that you are not dead?” rejoined Samuel. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly sure,” he replied, once more shaking a mass of dust from his + head. “Does my return incommode you, Samuel Brohl?” he added. “Your name + is Samuel, I believe; it is a pretty name. Why have you taken mine? You + must give it back to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day,” pleaded Samuel, in a stifled voice, “nor to-morrow, nor the + day after to-morrow; but after the marriage.” + </p> + <p> + Count Abel burst out laughing, which was by no means his habit, and which + therefore greatly surprised Samuel. Then he cried: + </p> + <p> + “It is I she will marry—she will be the Countess Larinski.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the door opened again, and Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz appeared, + robed in white like a bride, a crown on her head, a bouquet in her hand. + She bent her steps towards Samuel, but the apparition arrested her + progress, saying: + </p> + <p> + “It is not he whom you love; it is my history. Do you not see that this is + a false Pole? His father was a German Jew, who kept a tavern. Here it was + that this hero grew up. I will relate to you how.” + </p> + <p> + Here Samuel put his hand over his mouth, and stammered: “Oh, for mercy’s + sake, say nothing!” + </p> + <p> + Heeding him not, the apparition continued: “Yes, Samuel Brohl is a hero. + For five years he was the pledged lover of an old woman, and he fulfilled + all the duties of his post. This cherished hero well earned his money. Are + you not eager to be called Mme. Brohl?” + </p> + <p> + With these words, he opened wide his arms to Mlle. Moriaz, who fixed upon + him a gaze at the same time astonishing and tender, and straining her to + his bosom, kissed her hair and her crown. + </p> + <p> + Then Samuel Brohl recovered strength, life, movement; clinching his hands, + he sprang forward to dispute with Abel Larinski his prey. Suddenly, with a + shiver of terror and dismay, he paused; he had heard proceeding from a + distant corner of the chamber a shrill, malignant laugh. He turned, and + distinctly perceived his father—a greasy cap on his head, wrapped in + a forlorn, threadbare, dirty caftan. This was unquestionably Jeremiah + Brohl, and this night it seemed truly that the whole world had arisen from + the dead. The little old man continued to laugh jeeringly; then in a + sharp, peevish voice, he cried: “<i>Schandbube! vermaledeiter Schlingel! + ich will dich zu Brei schlagen!</i>” which signifies: “Scoundrel! accursed + blackguard! I will beat you to a jelly!” It was a mode of address that + Samuel had heard often in his infancy; but familiar though he might be + with paternal amenities, when he saw his father uplift a withered, + claw-like hand, a cry escaped his lips; he started back to evade the blow, + entangled his feet in the legs of a chair, stumbled, and flung himself + violently against a table. + </p> + <p> + He opened his eyes and saw no one. He ran to the window and threw open the + shutter; the growing dawn illumined the chamber with its grayish light. + Thank God! there was no one there. The vision had been so real that it was + some time before Samuel Brohl could fully regain his senses, and persuade + himself that his nightmare was forever dissipated, that phantoms were + phantoms, that cemeteries do not surrender their prey. When he had once + acquired this rejoicing conviction, he spoke to the dead man who had + appeared to him, and whose provoking visit had indiscreetly troubled his + sleep, and with considerable hauteur he said, in a tone of superb + defiance: “We must be resigned, my poor Abel; we shall see each other + again only in the valley of Jehosaphat; I have seen twenty shovelfuls of + earth cast upon you—you are dead; I live, and she is mine!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he hastened to settle his account, and to quit the Coeur-Volant, + within whose walls he promised himself never again to set foot. + </p> + <p> + At the very same moment, M. Moriaz, who had risen early, was engaged in + writing the following letter: + </p> + <p> + “It is done, my dear friend—I have yielded. Pray, do not reproach me + with my weakness; what else could I do? When one has been for twenty years + the most submissive of fathers, one does not emancipate one’s self in a + day; I never have been in the habit of erecting barriers, and it is + scarcely likely that I could learn to do so at my age. Ah! <i>mon Dieu!</i> + who knows if, after all, her heart has not counselled her well, if one day + she will not satisfy us all that she was in the right. It must be + confessed that this <i>diable</i> of a man has an indescribable charm + about him. I can detect only one fault in him: he has committed the error + of existing at all; it is a grave error, I admit, but thus far I have + nothing else with which to reproach him. + </p> + <p> + “When one loses a battle, nothing remains but to plan an orderly retreat. + Count Larinski, I regret to inform you, is armed with all needful weapons; + he carries with him his certificate of birth, and certificate of the + registry of death of both his parents. No pretext can be made on this + score, and my future son-in-law will not aid me to gain time. The sole + point upon which we must henceforth direct our attention is the contract. + We scarcely can take too many precautions; we must see that this Pole’s + hands are absolutely tied. If you will permit me, I will one day ask you + to confer with me and my notary, who is also yours. I venture to hope that + upon this point Antoinette will consent to be guided by our counsels. + </p> + <p> + “I am not gay, my friend; but, having been born a philosopher, I bear my + misfortunes patiently, and I will forthwith reread <i>Le Monde comme il + va, ou la Vision de Babouc</i>, in order to endeavour to persuade myself + that, if all is not well, all is at least supportable.” + </p> + <p> + The evening of the same day, M. Moriaz received the following response: + </p> + <p> + “I never will pardon you. You are a great chemist, I grant, but a pitiful, + a most deplorable father. Your weakness, which well merits another name, + is without excuse. You should have resisted; you should have stood your + ground firmly. Antoinette, although she is of age, never in the world + would have decided to address to you a formal request of consent to this + marriage. She would have made some scenes; she would have pouted; she + would have endeavoured to soften you by assuming the airs of a tearful, + heart-broken widow; she would have draped herself in black crape. And + after that? Desperate case! These Artemisias are very tiresome, I admit; + but one can accustom one’s self to anything. Should philosophers, who + plead such sublime indifference about the affairs of this mundane sphere, + be at the mercy of a fit of the sulks, or a dress of black crape? Besides, + black is all the fashion just now, even for those who are not in mourning. + </p> + <p> + “You speak of contracts! You are surely jesting! What! distrustful of a + Pole? take precautions against an antique man?—I quote from Abbe + Miollens—against a soul as noble as great? Think what you are doing! + At the mere thought of his disinterestedness being called into question, + M. Larinski would swoon away as he did in my <i>salon</i>. It is a little + way he has, which is most excellent, since it proves successful. Do not + think of such trifles as contracts; marry them with equal rights, and + leave the consequences to Providence! Follies have neither beauty nor + merit, unless they are complete. Ah, my good friend, Poland has its charm, + has it? Admirable! But you must swallow the whole thing. I am your + obedient servant.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + The pitiless sentence pronounced by Mme. de Lorcy grieved M. Moriaz, but + did not discourage him. It was his opinion that, let her say what she + might, precautions were good; that, well though it might be to bear our + misfortunes patiently, there was no law forbidding us to assuage them; + that it was quite permissible to prefer to complete follies those of a + modified character, and that a bad cold or an influenza was decidedly + preferable to inflammation of the lungs, which is so apt to prove fatal. + “Time and myself will suffice for all things,” proudly said Philip II. M. + Moriaz said, with perhaps less pride: “To postpone a thing so long as + possible, and to hold deliberate counsel with one’s notary, are the best + correctives of a dangerous marriage that cannot be prevented.” His notary, + M. Noirot, in whom he reposed entire confidence, was absent; a case of + importance had carried him to Italy. Nothing remained but to await his + return, until which everything stood in suspense. + </p> + <p> + In the first conversation he had with his daughter on the subject, M. + Moriaz found her very reasonable, very well disposed to enter into his + views, to accede to his desires. She was too thoroughly pleased with his + resignation not to be willing to reward him for it with a little + complaisancy; besides, she was too happy to be impatient; she had gained + the main points of her case—it cost her little to yield in matters + of secondary detail. + </p> + <p> + “You will be accused of having taken a most inconsiderate step,” said her + father to her. “You are little sensible to the judgment of the world, to + what people say; I am much more so. Humour my weakness or cowardice. Let + us endeavour to keep up appearances; do not let us appear to be in a + hurry, or to have something to hide; let us act with due deliberation. + Just at present no one is in Paris; let us give our friends time to return + there. We will present Count Larinski to them. Great happiness does not + fear being discussed. Your choice will be regarded unfavourably by some, + approved by others. M. Larinski has the gift of pleasing; he will please, + and all the world will pardon my resignation, which Mme. de Lorcy esteems + a crime.” + </p> + <p> + “You promised me that your resignation would be mingled with cheerfulness: + I find it somewhat melancholy.” + </p> + <p> + “You scarcely could expect me to be intoxicated with joy.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you at least assure me that you have taken your part bravely, and + that you will think of no further appeal?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it to you!” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; then we will honour your weakness,” she replied, and she said + Amen to all that he proposed. + </p> + <p> + It was agreed that the marriage should take place during the winter, and + that two months should be allowed to elapse before proceeding to the + preliminary formalities. M. Moriaz undertook to explain matters to Samuel + Brohl, who found the arrangement little to his taste. He took pains, + however, to give no signs of this. He told M. Moriaz that he was still in + the first bewildering surprise of his happiness, that he was not sorry to + have time to recover from it; but he secretly promised himself to devise + some artifice for abridging delays, for hastening the <i>denoument</i>. He + was apprehensive of accidents, unforeseen occurrences, squalls, storms, + tornadoes, sudden blights, in short everything that might damage or + destroy a harvest; he impatiently longed to gather in his, and to have it + carefully stowed away in his granary. In the interim he wrote to his old + friend M. Guldenthal a letter at once majestic and confidential, which + produced a most striking effect. M. Guldenthal concluded that a good + marriage was much better security than a poor gun. Besides, he had had the + agreeable surprise of being completely reimbursed for his loan, capital + and interest. He was charmed to have so excellent a debtor return to him, + and he hastened to advance to him all that he could possibly want, even + more. + </p> + <p> + A month passed peaceably by, during which time Samuel Brohl repaired two + or three times each week to Cormeilles. He made himself adored by the + entire household, including the gardener, the porter and his family, and + the Angora cat that had welcomed him at the time of his first visit. This + pretty, soft white puss had conceived for Samuel Brohl a most deplorable + sympathy; perhaps she had recognised that he possessed the soul of a cat, + together with all the feline graces. She lavished on him the most + flattering attentions; she loved to rub coaxingly against him, to spring + on his knee, to repose in his lap. In retaliation, the great, tawny + spaniel belonging to Mlle. Moriaz treated the newcomer with the utmost + severity and was continually looking askance at him; when Samuel attempted + a caress, he would growl ominously and show his teeth, which called forth + numerous stern corrections from his mistress. Dogs are born gendarmes or + police agents; they have marvellous powers of divination and instinctive + hatred of people whose social status is not orthodox, whose credentials + are irregular, or who have borrowed the credentials of others. As to Mlle. + Moiseney, who had not the scent of a spaniel, she had gone distracted over + this noble, this heroic, this incomparable Count Larinski. In a <i>tete-a-tete</i> + he had contrived to have with her, he had evinced much respect for her + character, so much admiration for her natural and acquired enlightenment, + that she had been moved to tears; for the first time she felt herself + understood. What moved her, however, still more was that he asked her as a + favour never to quit Mlle. Moriaz and to consider as her own the house he + hoped one day to possess. “What a man!” she ejaculated, with as much + conviction as Mlle. Galet. + </p> + <p> + The principal study of Samuel Brohl was to insinuate himself into the good + graces of M. Moriaz, whose mental reservations he dreaded. He succeeded in + some measure, or at least he disarmed any lingering suspicions by the + irreproachable adjustment of his manners, by the reserve of his language, + by his great show of lack of curiosity regarding all questions that might + have a proximate or remote connection with his interests. How, then, had + Mme. de Lorcy come to take it into her head that there was something of + the appraiser about Samuel Brohl, and that his eyes took an inventory of + her furniture? If he had forgotten himself at Maisons, he never forgot + himself at Cormeilles. What cared he for the sordid affairs of the + sublunary sphere? He floated in ether; heaven had opened to him its + portals; the blessed are too absorbed in their ecstasy to pay heed to + details or to take an inventory of paradise. Nevertheless, Samuel’s + ecstasies did not prevent him from embracing every opportunity to render + himself useful or agreeable to M. Moriaz. He frequently asked permission + to accompany him into his laboratory. M. Moriaz flattered himself that he + had discovered a new body to which he attributed most curious properties. + Since his return he had been occupied with some very delicate experiments, + which he did not always carry out to his satisfaction; his movements were + brusque, his hands all thumbs; very often he chanced to ruin everything by + breaking his vessels. Samuel proposed to assist him in a manipulation + requiring considerable dexterity; he had very flexible fingers, was as + expert as a juggler, and the manipulation succeeded beyond all hopes. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy was furious at having been outwitted by Count Larinski; she + retracted all the concessions she had made concerning him; her rancour had + decided that the man of fainting-fits could not be other than an imposter. + She had disputes on this subject with M. Langis, who persisted in + maintaining that M. Larinski was a great comedian, but that this, strictly + considered, did not prevent his being a true count; in the course of his + travels he had met specimens of them who cheated at cards and pocketed + affronts. Mme. de Lorcy, in return, accused him of being a simpleton. She + had written again to Vienna, in hopes of obtaining some further + intelligence; she had been able to learn nothing satisfactory. She did not + lose courage; she well knew that, in the important affairs of life, M. + Moriaz found it difficult to dispense with her approbation, and she + promised herself to choose with discretion the moment to make a decisive + assault upon him. In the meanwhile she gave herself the pleasure of + tormenting him by her silence, and of grieving him by her long-continued + pouting. One day M. Moriaz said to his daughter: + </p> + <p> + “Mme. de Lorcy is displeased with us; this grieves me. I fear you have + dropped some word that has wounded her. I shall be greatly obliged to you + if you will go and see her and coax her into good-humour.” + </p> + <p> + “You gave me a far from agreeable commission,” she rejoined, “but I can + refuse you nothing; I shall go to-morrow to Maisons.” + </p> + <p> + At the precise moment when this conversation was taking place, Mme. de + Lorcy, who was passing the day in Paris, entered the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. + The exhibition of the work of a celebrated painter, recently deceased, had + attracted thither a great throng of people. Mme. de Lorcy moved to and + fro, when suddenly she descried a little old woman, sixty years of age, + with a snub nose, whose little gray eyes gleamed with malice and + impertinence. Her chin in the air, holding up her eye-glasses with her + hand, she scrutinized all the pictures with a critical, disdainful air. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! truly it is the Princess Gulof,” said Mme. de Lorcy to herself, and + turned away to avoid an encounter. It was at Ostend, three years previous, + during the season of the baths, that she had made the acquaintance of the + princess; she did not care to renew it. This haughty, capricious Russian, + with whom a chance occurrence at the <i>table d’hote</i> had thrown her + into intercourse, had not taken a place among her pleasantest + reminiscences. + </p> + <p> + Princess Gulof was the wife of a governor-general whom she had wedded in + second marriage after a long widowhood. He did not see her often, two or + three times a year, that was all. Floating about from one end of Europe to + another, they kept up a regular exchange of letters; the prince never took + any step without consulting his wife, who usually gave him sound advice. + During the first years of their marriage, he had committed the error of + being seriously in love with her: there are some species of ugliness that + inspire actually insane passions. The princess found this in the most + wretched taste, and soon brought Dimitri Paulovitch to his senses. From + that moment perfect concord reigned between this wedded couple, who were + parted by the entire continent of Europe, united by the mail-bags. The + princess did not bear a very irreproachable record. She looked upon + morality as pure matter of conventionality, and she made no secret of her + thoughts. She was always on the alert for new discoveries, fresh + experiences; she never waited to read a book to the end before flinging it + into the waste-paper basket, most frequently the first chapter sufficed; + she had met with many disappointments, she had wearied of many caprices, + and she had arrived at the conclusion that man is, after all, of but small + account. Nevertheless, there had come to her late in life a comparatively + lasting caprice; during nearly five years she had flattered herself that + she had found what she sought. Alas! for the first time she had been + abandoned, forsaken, and that before she had herself grown tired of her + fancy. This desertion had inflicted a sharp wound on her pride; she had + conceived an implacable hatred for the faithless one, and then she had + forgotten him. She had plunged into the natural sciences, she had made + dissections—it was her way of being avenged. She held very advanced + ideas; she believed in the most radical of the doctrines of evolution; she + deemed it a clearly demonstrated fact that man is a development of the + monkey, the monkey of the monad. She profoundly despised any one who + permitted himself to doubt this. She did not count melancholy; to analyze + or dissect everything, that was her way of being happy. + </p> + <p> + During their common sojourn at Ostend, Mme. de Lorcy had gained the good + graces of the Princess Gulof through the dexterity with which she had + dressed the wounds of Moufflard, her lapdog, whose paw had been injured by + some awkward individual. She had been quite pleased with Mme. de Lorcy, + her sympathy and her kindly services, and she had bestowed her most + amiable attentions upon her. Mme. de Lorcy had done her best to respond to + her advances; but she found herself revolted by this old magpie whose + prattling never ceased, and whose chief delight was in the recital of the + secret chronicles of every capital of Europe; Mme. de Lorcy, in fact, soon + grew disgusted with her cosmopolitan gossip and her physiology; she found + her cynical and evil-minded. In meeting her at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, + her first impulse was to evade her; but suddenly she changed her mind. For + some weeks past she had been governed by a fixed idea, about which all + else revolved; an inspiration came over her, which doubtless fell directly + from the skies. + </p> + <p> + “Princess Gulof,” said she to herself, “has passed her life in running + around the world; her real home is a railroad-car; there is not a large + city where she has failed to make a sojourn; she is acquainted with the + whole world: is it not possible that she knows Count Larinski?” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy retraced her steps, cut her way through the crowd, succeeded + in approaching the princess, and, taking her by the arm, exclaimed: “Ah! + is it you, princess! How is Moufflard?” + </p> + <p> + The princess turned her head, regarded her fixedly a moment, and then + pressing her hand between her thumb and forefinger she rejoined with as + little ceremony as though they had met the day before: “Moufflard does + very poorly indeed, my dear. He died two months ago of indigestion.” + </p> + <p> + “How you must have mourned his loss!” + </p> + <p> + “I am still inconsolable.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, princess, I shall undertake to console you. I own a lapdog, not + yet six months old: you never saw a more charming one or one with a + shorter nose or whiter and more delicate hair. I am a great utilitarian, + as you know. I only care for large dogs that are of some use. Will you + accept of me Moufflard II? But you must come and fetch him yourself, which + will procure me the pleasure of seeing you at Maisons.” + </p> + <p> + The princess replied that she was on her way to England; that she was + merely taking Paris in passing; that her hours were numbered; and two + minutes later she announced to Mme. de Lorcy that she would call on her + the following day, in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + True to her appointment, Princess Gulof entered Mme. de Lorcy’s <i>salon</i> + the following day. The ladies occupied themselves first of all with the + lapdog, which was found charming and quite worthy to succeed to Moufflard + I. Mme. de Lorcy watched all the time for a suitable opportunity of + introducing the subject nearest to her heart; when she thought it had + come, she observed: + </p> + <p> + “Apropos, princess, you who know everything, you who are a true + cosmopolitan, have you ever heard of a mysterious personage who calls + himself Count Abel Larinski?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that I am aware of, my dear, although his name may not be absolutely + unknown to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Search among your reminiscences; you must have encountered him somewhere; + you have visited all the countries of the world—” + </p> + <p> + “Of the habitable world,” she interposed; “but according to my especial + point of view Siberia scarcely can be called so, and it is there, if I + mistake not, that your Count Larinski must have been sent.” + </p> + <p> + “Would to heaven!—Perhaps there was question of procuring this + little pleasure for his father; but, unfortunately, he took the precaution + to emigrate to America. The inconvenience of America is, that people can + return from there, for my Larinski has returned, and it is that that + grieves me.” + </p> + <p> + “What has he done to you?” inquired the princess pinching the ears of the + dog who was slumbering in her lap. + </p> + <p> + “I spoke to you at Ostend about my goddaughter Mlle. Moriaz, who is an + adorable creature. I proposed to marry her to my nephew, M. Langis, a most + highly accomplished young man. This Larinski came suddenly on the scene, + he cast a charm over the child, and he will marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pity! Is he handsome?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that, to tell the truth, is his sole merit.” + </p> + <p> + “It is merit sufficient,” replied the princess, whose gray eyes twinkled + as she spoke. “There is nothing certain but a man’s beauty; all else is + open to discussion.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray, allow me to consider matters from a more matter-of-fact point of + view,” said Mme. de Lorcy. “Also I may as well confide to you my whole + perplexity: I suspect Count Larinski of being neither a true Larinski nor + a true count; I would stake my life that the Larinskis are all dead, and + that this man is some adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + “You will end by interesting me,” rejoined the princess. “Do not speak too + severely of adventurers, however; they are one of the most curious + varieties of the human family. Let your goddaughter marry hers; it will + bring a piquant element into her life; the poor world is so generally a + prey to ennui.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you! my goddaughter was not born to marry an adventurer. I detest + this Larinski, and I have vowed that I will play him some abominable + trick!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not become excited, my dear. What colour are his eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “Green as those of the cats or of the owls.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the eyes of Princess Gulof flashed and twinkled, and she cried: + “An adventurer with green eyes! Why, it is a superb match, and I find you + hard to please.” + </p> + <p> + “You grieve me, princess,” said Mme. de Lorcy. “I had promised myself that + you would lend me the assistance of your judgment, your incomparable + penetration, your experienced eye; that you would aid me in unmasking this + Pole, in detecting in him some irremediable vice that would at once prove + an insurmountable obstacle to the marriage. Be good, for once in your + life; may I present him to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I repeat to you that I am merely taking Paris in passing,” replied the + princess, “and I am expected in England. Besides, you do too much honour + to my incomparable penetration. I swear to you that I am no connoisseur in + Larinskis; you may as well spare yourself the pains of presenting to me + yours. I am a good-natured woman, who has often been made a good dupe, and + I do not complain of it. The best reminiscences of my past are of sundry + agreeable errors, and of men skilled in deception. I have found it the + wisest way to judge by the labels, and never to ask any one to show me the + contents of his sack, for I long ago discovered that sacks are very apt to + be empty or at best only poorly filled. Let your goddaughter act according + to her own head; if she deceives herself, it is because she wishes to be + deceived, and she knows better than you what suits her. <i>Eh! bon Dieu</i>, + what matters it if there be one more unhappy household under the broad + canopy of heaven? Besides, it is only fools who are unhappy, and who + stupidly pause before a closed portal; others manage in some way to find a + loop-hole of escape. Marriage, my dear, is an institution worn threadbare. + Ten years hence there will be only free women and husbands on trial. Ten + years hence the Countess Larinski will be a liberated countess. Let her + serve her time as a galley-slave, and she will come out entirely cured of + her follies.” + </p> + <p> + Just as Princess Gulof was finishing this remarkable declaration of her + principles, the door opened and Mlle. Moriaz entered. Whatever it might + cost her to do so, the future Countess Larinski faithfully kept the + promise she had made to her father. Mme. de Lorcy was strictly on her + guard; she hastened to meet her, held out both hands, kissed her on both + cheeks, and reproached her, in the most affectionate tone in the world, + for the rarity of her visits. Then she presented her to the princess, who + said: “Come here, my beauty, that I may look at you; I have been told that + you are adorable.” + </p> + <p> + When Antoinette approached, she fixed on her a keen, penetrating glance, + examined her from head to foot, passed all her perfections in review: one + might have taken her for some Normandy farmer at a cattle-fair. The result + of this investigation was satisfactory; the princess cried, “Truly she + does very well!” and proceeded to assert that Mlle. Moriaz greatly + resembled a certain person who had played a certain role in a certain + adventure that she undertook to narrate. She had scarcely finished this + recital when she entered on another. Mme. de Lorcy was on thorns. She knew + by experience that the anecdotes of Princess Gulof were ordinarily + somewhat indelicate and ill-suited to maiden ears. She watched Antoinette + anxiously, and, when she saw the approach of an especially objectionable + passage, she was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing. The princess, + comprehending the significance of that, made an effort to gloss over, but + her glossings were very transparent. Mme. de Lorcy coughed anew, and the + princess ended by losing patience, and, brusquely interrupting herself, + exclaimed: “And this, that, and the other, etc. Thus ended the adventure.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz listened with an astonished air, not in the least + understanding these attacks of coughing and these interruptions, nor + divining the significance of the constant repetition of “this, that, and + the other, etc.” Princess Gulof struck her as a very eccentric and + unpleasantly brusque person; she even suspected her of being slightly + deranged or at least rather crack-brained; yet she was pleased with her + for being present upon this especial occasion and sparing her a <i>tete-a-tete</i> + with Mme. de Lorcy with its disagreeable explanations and unpleasant + discussions. + </p> + <p> + She remained nearly an hour, planted on a chair, watching with a sort of + stupor the turning of the fan of this word-mill, whose clapper kept up + such an incessant noise. After having criticised to her heart’s content + her neighbours, including under that title emperors and grand-dukes, and + having abundantly multiplied the et ceteras, Princess Gulof suddenly + turned the conversation to physiology: this science, whose depths she + believed herself to have fathomed, was, in her estimation, the secret of + everything, the Alpha and Omega of human life. She exposed certain + materialistic views, making use of expressions that shocked the modest and + delicate ears of Mlle. Moriaz. The astonishment the latter had at first + experienced became now blended with horror and disgust; she judged that + her visit had lasted long enough, and she proceeded to beat a retreat, + which Mme. de Lorcy made no effort to prevent. + </p> + <p> + Upon arriving at Cormeilles, her carriage crossed with a young man on + horseback, who with his head bowed down allowed his animal full liberty to + take his own course. This young man trembled when a clear, soprano voice, + which he preferred to the most beautiful music in the world, cried to him, + “Where are you going, Camille?” + </p> + <p> + He bowed over his horse’s neck, drew down his hat over his eyes, and + replied, “To Maisons.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not go there. I have just left because there is a dreadful old woman + there who says horrid things.” Then Mlle. Moriaz added, in a queenly tone, + “You cannot pass—you are my prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + She obliged him to turn back; ten minutes later she had alighted from her + coupe, he had sprung from his saddle, and they were seated side by side on + a rustic bench. + </p> + <p> + A few days previous M. Langis had met M. Moriaz, who had complained + bitterly of being forsaken by him as well as by Mme. de Lorcy, and who had + extracted from him the promise to come and see him. Camille had kept this + promise. Had he chosen well his time of doing so? The truth is, he had + been both rejoiced and heart-broken to learn that Mlle. Moriaz was absent. + Man is a strange combination of contradictions, especially a man who is in + love. In the same way he had bestowed both blessings and imprecations upon + Heaven for permitting him to meet Antoinette. During some moments he had + lost countenance, but had quickly recovered himself; he had formed the + generous resolution to act out consistently his role of friend and + brother. He had acquitted himself of it so well at Saint Moritz, that + Antoinette believed him cured of the caprice of a day with which she had + inspired him and which she had never taken seriously. + </p> + <p> + “The last time I saw you,” said she, “you dropped a remark that pained me, + but I am pleased to think that you did not mean to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a terrible culprit,” he rejoined, “and I smite myself upon the + breast therefore. I was wanting in respect to your idol.” + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately, my idol knew nothing about it, and, if he had known, I would + have appeased him by saying: ‘Pardon this young man; he does not always + know what he is saying.’” + </p> + <p> + “He even seldom knows it; but what help is there for it? A man given to + fainting always did seem a curiosity to me. I know we should endeavour to + conquer our prejudices; every country has its customs, and, since Poland + is a country that pleases you, I will make an effort to see only its good + sides.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that is the right way to talk. I hope this very day to reconcile you + with Count Larinski; stay and dine with us—he will be here very + soon; the first duty of the people whom I love is to love one another.” + </p> + <p> + M. Langis at first energetically declined accepting this invitation; + Antoinette insisted: he ended by bowing in sign of obedience. Youth has a + taste for suffering. + </p> + <p> + Tracing figures in the gravel with a stick he had picked up, M. Langis + said, in a wholly unconstrained voice: “I do not wish M. Larinski any + harm, and yet you must admit that I would have the right to detest him + cordially, for I had the honour two years ago, if I mistake not, of asking + your hand in marriage. Do you remember it?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” she replied, fixing upon him her pure, clear eyes; “but I + ought to avow to you that this fancy of yours never seemed to me either + very reasonable or very serious.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong; I can certify to you that your refusal plunged me for as + much as forty-eight hours into the depths of despair—I mean one of + those genuine despairs that neither eat, drink, nor sleep, and that speak + openly of suicide!” + </p> + <p> + “And at the end of forty-eight hours were you consoled?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Eh! bon Dieu</i>, it surely was time to come to reason. I had + hesitated a long time before asking your hand, because I thought, ‘If she + refuses me, I cannot see her any more.’ But I still do see you, so all is + well!” + </p> + <p> + “And how soon do you mean to marry?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Never! I shall die a bachelor. An aspirant to the hand of Mlle. + Moriaz, being unable to win her, could not care for another woman. Nothing + remains but to strike the attitude of the inconsolable lover.” + </p> + <p> + “And when this ceases to hinder one from eating, drinking, or sleeping—what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “One becomes interesting without being inconvenienced by the + consequences,” he gaily interposed. Then, letting his eyes wander idly + around for a moment, he added: “It seems to me that you have in some way + changed the order of this terrace; put to the right what was at the left, + thinned out the shrubbery, cut the trees; I feel completely lost here.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake greatly; nothing is changed here; it is you who have become + forgetful. How! you now longer recognise this terrace, scene of so many + exploits? I was a thorough tyrant; I did with you what I pleased. You + revolted sometimes, but in his heart the slave adored his chains. Open + your eyes. See! here is the sycamore you climbed one day to escape me when + I wanted you to make believe that you were a girl, as you said, and you + had little fancy for such a silly role. There is the alley where we played + ball, and yonder the hedge and the grove where we played hide-and-seek.” + </p> + <p> + “Say rather, <i>cligne-musette</i>; it is more poetical,” he rejoined. + “When I was down in Transylvania I made a <i>chanson</i> about it all, and + set it myself to music.” + </p> + <p> + “Sing me your <i>chanson</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mocking at me; my voice is false, as you well know; but I will + consent to recite it to you. The rhymes are not rich—I am no son of + Parnassus.” + </p> + <p> + With these words, lowering his voice, not daring to look her in the face, + he recited the couplets. + </p> + <p> + “Your <i>chanson</i> is very pretty,” said she; “but it does not tell the + truth, for here we are sitting together on this bench; we have not lost + each other at all.” + </p> + <p> + She was so innocent that she had no idea of the torture she was + inflicting, and he saw this so plainly that he could not so much as have + the satisfaction of finding fault with her; yet he asked himself whether + in the best woman’s heart there was not a foundation of cruelty, of + unconscious ferocity. He felt the tears start to his eyes; he scarcely + could restrain them; he abruptly bowed his head, and began to examine a + beautiful horned beetle, which was just crossing the gravel-path at a + quick pace, apparently having some very important affairs to regulate. + When M. Langis raised his head his eyes were dry, his face serene, his + lips smiling. + </p> + <p> + “It is very certain,” he observed, “that two years ago I must have + appeared supremely ridiculous to you. This little playmate of old, this + foolish little Camille, to attempt to transform himself into a husband! + The pretension was absurd indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” she replied; “but I thought at once that it was a mistake. + Little Camilles are apt to be hot-headed and fanciful; they are subject to + self-deceptions regarding their sentiments. Friendship and love, however, + are two entirely different things! I once said to Mlle. Moiseney that a + woman never should marry an intimate friend, because it would be a sure + way of losing him as such, and friends are good to keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! How much do you care now for yours? I find my role very modest, very + insignificant. Open the trap-door—it is time for me to disappear.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad counsel! I shall not open the trap-door. One always has need of + friends. I can readily imagine the possibility of the very happiest + married woman needing some advice or assistance that she could not ask of + her husband, for husbands do not understand everything. If ever such a + thing happens to me, Camille, I shall turn to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed!” he cried; “to help you out of embarrassment, I would run, if + necessary, all the way from Transylvania.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his right hand, which she shook warmly. + </p> + <p> + At this moment they heard a step that Mlle. Moriaz at once recognised, and + Count Larinski appeared from the walk bordering the house. Antoinette + hastened to meet him, and led him forward by laying hold of the tip of his + glove, which he was in the act of drawing off. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said she, “I do not need to present you to each other; you + are already acquainted.” + </p> + <p> + It is a very difficult thing to lead two men who do not like each other + into conversation: the present effort proved a total failure. Fortunately + for all parties, M. Moriaz shortly made his appearance at the end of the + terrace, and M. Langis arose to join him. Antoinette remained alone with + Samuel Brohl, who at once rather brusquely asked: + </p> + <p> + “Has M. Langis the intention of remaining here forever?” + </p> + <p> + “He has only just arrived,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “And you will send him away soon?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so little of sending him away that I asked him to dinner, in + order to give you an opportunity of becoming more fully acquainted with + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for your amiable intentions, but M. Langis pleases me + little.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you against him?” + </p> + <p> + “I have met him sometimes at Mme. de Lorcy’s, and he always has shown me a + most dubious politeness. I scent in him an enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Pure imagination! M. Langis has been my friend from childhood up, and I + have forewarned him that it is his duty to love the people whom I love.” + </p> + <p> + “I mistrust these childhood’s friends,” said he, growing excited. “I + should not wonder if this youth was in love with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed! then you should have heard him but now. He has been reminding + me, this youth, that two years ago he sought my hand, and he assured me + that forty-eight hours sufficed to console him for my refusal.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know that the case was so grave, or the personage so dangerous. + Truly, do you mean to keep him to dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “I invited him; can I retract?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I will leave the place,” he cried, rising. + </p> + <p> + She uplifted her eyes to his face and remained transfixed with + astonishment, so completely was his face transformed. His contracted brows + formed an acute angle, and he had a sharp, hard, evil air. This was a + Larinski with whom she was not yet acquainted, or rather it was Samuel + Brohl who had just appeared to her—Samuel Brohl, who had entered + upon the scene as suddenly as though he had emerged from a magic + surprise-box. She could not remove her eyes from him, and he at once + perceived the impression he was making on her. Forthwith Samuel Brohl + re-entered his box, whose cover closed over him, and it was a true Pole + who said to Mlle. Moriaz, in a grave, melancholy, and respectful tone: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, I am not always master of my impressions.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right,” said she; “and you will remain, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible,” he replied; “I should be cross, and you would not be + pleased.” + </p> + <p> + She urged him; he opposed her entreaties with a polite but firm + resistance. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu,” said she. “When shall I see you again?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow—or the day after—I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, do you not know?” + </p> + <p> + He perceived that her eyes were full of tears. Tenderly kissing her hand + he said, with a smile that consoled her: + </p> + <p> + “This is the first time we have had any dispute; it is possible that I may + be wrong, but it seems to me that if I were a woman I would not willingly + marry a man who was always right.” + </p> + <p> + These words uttered, he assured himself anew that her eyes were humid, and + then he left, charmed to have proved the extent of the empire he held over + her. + </p> + <p> + When she rejoined M. Langis, the young man asked: + </p> + <p> + “Does it chance to be I who put Count Larinski to flight? If so, I should + be quite heart-broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Reassure yourself,” said she, “he came expressly to inform me that his + evening was not free.” + </p> + <p> + The dinner was only passably lively. Mlle. Moiseney owed M. Langis a + grudge; she could not forgive him for having made fun of her more than + once—in her eyes an unpardonable sin. M. Moriaz was enchanted to + find himself once more in company with his dear Camille; but he kept + asking himself, mournfully, “Why is not he to be my son-in-law?” + Antoinette had several attacks of abstraction; she did not, however, omit + the least friendly attention to Camille. Love had become master of this + generous soul; it might cause it to commit many imprudences, but it was + not in its power to cause it to commit an injustice. + </p> + <p> + At nine o’clock M. Langis mounted his horse and took his departure. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mlle. Moriaz, her arm resting on the ledge of her window, was + meditating on the strange conduct of Count Larinski as she gazed on the + stars; the sky was without clouds, unless a little black speck above + Mount-Valerien might be so called. Mlle. Moriaz’s heart swelled with + emotion, and she felt implicit confidence that all would be arranged the + next day. What is one black spot in the immensity of a starry sky? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + In all that Samuel Brohl did, even in his wildest freaks, there was + somewhat of calculation, or contrivance. Unquestionably, he had + experienced intense displeasure at encountering M. Camille Langis at + Cormeilles; he had, doubtless, very particular and very personal reasons + for not liking him. He knew, however, that there was need for controlling + his temper, his impressions, his rancour; and, if he ceased to do so for a + moment, it was because he counted upon deriving advantage therefrom. He + was impatient to enter into possession, to feel his good-fortune sheltered + from all hazards; delays, procrastinations, long waiting, displeased and + irritated him. He suspected M. Moriaz of purposely putting his shoulder to + the wheel of time, and of preparing a contract that would completely tie + the hands of Count Larinski. He resolved to seize the first opportunity of + proving that he was mistrustful, stormy, susceptible, in the hope that + Mlle. Moriaz would become alarmed and say to her father, “I intend to + marry in three weeks, and without any conditions.” The opportunity had + presented itself, and Samuel Brohl had taken good care not to lose it. + </p> + <p> + The next day he received the following note: + </p> + <p> + “You have caused me pain, a great deal of pain. Already! I passed a + sorrowful evening, and slept wretchedly all night. I have reflected + seriously upon our dispute; I have endeavoured to persuade myself that I + was in the wrong: I have neither been able to succeed, nor to comprehend + you. Ah! how your lack of confidence astonishes me! It is so easy to + believe when one loves. Please write me word quickly that you also have + reflected, and that you have acknowledged your misdemeanour. I will not + insist upon your doing penance, your face humbled to the ground; but I + will condemn you to love me to-day more than yesterday, to-morrow more + than to-day. Upon these conditions, I will pass a sponge across your grave + error, and we shall speak of it no more. + </p> + <p> + “Ever yours. It is agreed, is it not?” Samuel Brohl had the surprise of + receiving at the same time another letter, thus worded: + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR COUNT: I cannot explain to myself your conduct; you no longer + give me any signs of life. I believed that I had some claims upon you, and + that you would hasten to announce to me in person the great event of + events, and seek my congratulations. Come, I beg of you, and dine this + evening at Maisons with Abbe Miollens, who is dying to embrace you; he + studies men in Horace, you know, and he finds none whom he prefers to you. + </p> + <p> + “You need not answer, but come; else I will be displeased with you as long + as I live.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel replied as follows to Mlle. Moriaz: + </p> + <p> + “Be assured I have suffered more than you. Forgive me; much should be + forgiven a man who has suffered much. My imagination is subject to the + wildest alarms. Great, unlooked-for joy has rendered me mistrustful. I + have been especially low-spirited of late. After having resolutely fought + against my happiness, I tremble now lest it escape me; it appears to me + too beautiful not to prove only a dream. To be loved by you! How can I + help fearing to lose the great boon? Each evening I ask myself: ‘Will she + still love me to-morrow?’ Perhaps my anxiety is blended with secret + remorse. My pride, ever on the alert to take umbrage, has often been my + torment; you can tell me it is only self-love: I will endeavour to cure + myself of it, but this cannot be done in a day. During these long months + of waiting there will come to me more than one suspicion, more than one + troubled thought. I promise you, however, that I shall maintain a rigid + silence concerning them, and, if possible, hide them. + </p> + <p> + “You condemn me, for my punishment, to love you to-day more than + yesterday; you know well this were impossible. No; I shall inflict upon + myself another chastisement. Mme. de Lorcy has invited me to dinner. I + suspect her of having a very mediocre feeling of good-will for me, and I + also accuse her of being cold and insensible; of understanding nothing + whatever of the heart’s unreasonableness, which is true wisdom. + Nevertheless, I will refrain from declining her invitation. It is at + Maisons and not at Cormeilles that I shall this day pass my evening. Are + you content with me? Is not the penance severe enough? + </p> + <p> + “But to-morrow—oh! I shall arrive at your home to-morrow by two + o’clock, and I shall enter by the little green gate at the foot of the + orchard. Will you do me a favour? Promenade about two o’clock in the + gravel-walk that I adore. The wall being low at that place, I shall + perceive from afar, before entering, the white silk of your sun-umbrella. + I am counting, you see, upon sunshine. How very childish! Yet, even this + is not strange; I was born three months and a half ago; I commenced to + live July 5th of this year; at four o’clock in the afternoon, in the + cathedral at Chur. Forgive me all my errors, my suspicions, my childish + absurdities.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz concluded that it would be well to shorten the term of + waiting, and that she would ask Count Larinski to fix the date of their + marriage himself. As to the contract, she had immediate occasion to speak + of it to her father, who announced to her that he had invited his notary, + Maitre Noirot, to dine with him the next day. + </p> + <p> + She was silent a few moments, and then said, “Can you explain to me the + use of notaries?” + </p> + <p> + He replied about as did <i>le Philosophe sans le savoir</i>: “We only see + the present; notaries foresee the future and possible contingencies.” + </p> + <p> + She replied that she did not believe in contingencies, and that she did + not like precautions, because they presupposed distrust, and might appear + offensive. + </p> + <p> + “We have charming weather to-day,” said her father; “nevertheless there is + a possibility of rain to-morrow. If I started this evening on a journey, I + should carry my umbrella, without fearing to insult Providence. Who speaks + to you of offending M. Larinski? Not content with approving of the step I + propose taking, he will thank me for it. Why did he at first refuse to + marry you? Because you are rich, and he is poor. The contract I wish to + have drawn up will thoroughly set at ease his disinterestedness and his + pride.” + </p> + <p> + “The question of money no longer exists for him,” she eagerly replied; “it + is my desire that it should not be started again. And since you like + comparisons, let us suppose that you invited one of your friends to take a + turn in your garden. Your espaliers are laden with fruit, and you know + that your friend is an honest man, and that, besides, he does not care for + pears. Suppose you were to put handcuffs on him, would he or would he not + be insulted?” + </p> + <p> + He answered in an exceedingly vexed tone, that this was entirely + different, and Mlle. Moiseney having taken the liberty to interfere in the + discussion in Antoinette’s behalf, declaring that Counts Larinski are not + to be distrusted, and that men of science are incapable of comprehending + delicacy of sentiment, he gave full vent to his wrath, telling the worthy + demoiselle to meddle with what concerned her. For the first time in his + life he was seriously angry. Antoinette caressed him into good-humour, + promised that she would put on the best possible face to Maitre Noirot, + that she would pay religious attention to his counsels, and that she would + endeavour to profit by them. + </p> + <p> + While M. Moriaz was engaged in this stormy interview with his daughter, + Samuel Brohl was <i>en route</i> for Maisons. After the first flush of + astonishment, the note and invitation of Mme. de Lorcy had pleased him + immensely; he saw in it the proof that she had ceased to struggle against + the inevitable—against Samuel Brohl and destiny; that she had + resolved to bear her disappointment with a cheerful countenance. He formed + the generous resolution to console her for her vexation; to gain her + good-will by force of modesty and graceful attentions. + </p> + <p> + Alone in his compartment of the cars, Samuel Brohl was happy, perfectly + happy. He was nearing port; he held it for an established fact that, + before a fortnight, the banns would be published. Was he alone in his + compartment? An adored image kept him company; he spoke to it, it replied + to him. Blended with a rather uncommon frigidity of soul, Samuel Brohl had + an imagination that readily took fire, and, when his imagination was + kindled, he felt within him something warm, which he took for a heart, and + sincerely persuaded himself that he had such an organ. At this moment he + saw Antoinette as he had left her the evening previous, her face animated, + her cheeks flushed, her countenance full of reproach, her eyes tearful. + She never had appeared to him so charming. He believed himself so madly in + love that he was inclined to mock a little at himself. He teased in + anticipation the joys that were in reserve for him; he revelled in thought + of the day and the hour when this superb creature would be his, when he + could view her as his own undisputed possession, and devour page after + page, chapter after chapter, of this elegantly printed, richly bound book. + </p> + <p> + However, he was not the man to wholly absorb himself in such a reverie. + His thoughts travelled farther; in idea he embraced his entire future, + which he fashioned out at pleasure. He took leave of his sorrowful past as + a blind man who by some miracle recovers his sight, parts from his dog and + his staff—troublesome witnesses of evil days. He had done with petty + employments, with ungrateful toil, with humiliating servitude, with + anxiety about the morrow, with the necessity for counting every sou, with + meagre repasts, with sordid expedients, with sorrow, distress, and + usuries; to all these he said farewell. Henceforth he would pick up silver + and gold by the shovelful; he would have a share in abundance of festivals—the + joy of doing nothing—the pleasure of commanding—all the + sweetness and all the calm satisfaction of delightful egotism—reposing + in a bed of eider-down—fed upon delicate birds—owning two or + three houses, a carriage, horses, and a box at the opera. What a future! + At intervals Samuel Brohl passed his tongue over his lips; they were + parched with thirst. + </p> + <p> + Alnaschar the Lazy received one hundred drachms of silver as his entire + patrimony, and he promised himself that he would one day marry the + daughter of the grand-vizier. He meant to clothe himself like a prince, to + mount upon a horse with a saddle of fine gold and housings of gold, richly + embroidered with diamonds and pearls. He proposed to see that his wife + formed good habits, to train her to obedience, to teach her to stand + before him and be always ready to wait upon him; he resolved to discipline + her with his looks, his hand, and his foot. Samuel Brohl possessed a + calmer spirit than the Athenian Hippoclide; he was less brutal than + Alnaschar of Bagdad: was he much less ferocious? He proposed, he also, to + educate his wife; he intended that the daughter of the grand-vizier should + consecrate herself wholly to his happiness, to his service. To possess a + beautiful slave, with velvety eyes, chestnut hair, tinged with gold, who + would make of Samuel Brohl her padishah and her god, who would pass her + life at his knees on the alert for his wishes, reading his good pleasure + in his face, attentive to his fancies and to his eye-brows, belonging to + him body and soul, uplifting to him the gaze of a timid gazelle or a + faithful spaniel—such was his dream of conjugal felicity. And little + need would he have to exert himself much in the education of Mlle. + Antoinette Moriaz. Love would charge itself with that. She adored Samuel + Brohl, and he relied upon her devotion; it were impossible that she could + refuse him anything! She was prepared in advance for every compliance, + every obedience; she was ready to be his humble servant in all things. + Knaves make it their boast that they can readily fathom honest people; the + truth is, they only half comprehend them. Honest people have sentiments, + as do certain languages, reputed easy, which are full of mystery, of + refined delicacy, inaccessible to the vulgar mind. A commercial traveller + often learns to speak Italian in three weeks, and yet never really knows + the language; Samuel Brohl had gained a superficial knowledge of Mlle. + Moriaz in a few days, and yet he was far from having a true comprehension + of her. + </p> + <p> + He arrived at Maisons in the most cheerful, self-satisfied frame of mind. + As he walked through the park, he remembered that Mme. de Lorcy had lost + her only two children when they were still of a tender age; that she was + therefore free to will her property as she pleased; that she had a short + neck, an apoplectic temperament; that Antoinette was her goddaughter; that + although she was piqued with Count Larinski the count was adroit, and + would find a way to regain her sympathies. The park appeared to him + magnificent; he admired its long, regular alleys, which had the appearance + of extending as far as Peking; he paused some moments before the purple + beech, and it seemed to him that there must be some resemblance between + this beautiful tree and himself. He contemplated with the eyes of + proprietorship the terrace planted with superb lindens, and he decided + that he would establish himself in his Maisons chateau, that his pretty + Cormeilles villa would merely be his country-seat. As it may be seen, his + imagination refused him nothing; it placed happiness and wealth untold at + his command. + </p> + <p> + We are unable to state whether Mme. de Lorcy actually had an apoplectic + temperament; the one thing certain is, that she was not dead. Samuel Brohl + perceived her from afar on the veranda, which she had just stepped out + upon in order to watch for his arrival. He had forgotten himself in the + park, which should one day be his park, and she was beginning to be uneasy + about his coming. + </p> + <p> + She cried out to him: “At last! You always make us wait for you,” adding, + in a most affable tone, “We meet to-day under less tragic circumstances + than the last time you were here, and I hope you will bear away a + pleasanter remembrance of Maisons.” + </p> + <p> + He respectfully kissed her hand, saying: “Happiness must be purchased; I + cannot pay too dearly for mine.” + </p> + <p> + She ushered him into the <i>salon</i>, where he had scarcely set foot, + when he descried an old woman lounging on a <i>causeuse</i>, fanning + herself as she chatted with Abbe Miollens. He remained motionless, his + eyes fixed, scarcely breathing, cold as marble; it seemed to him that the + four walls of the <i>salon</i> swayed from right to left, and left to + right, and that the floor was sliding from under his feet like the deck of + a pitching vessel. + </p> + <p> + The previous day, Antoinette once departed, Mme. de Lorcy had resumed her + attack on Princess Gulof, and the princess had ended by consenting to + delay her departure, to dine with the adventurer of the green eyes, and to + subject him to a close scrutiny. There she was; yes, it was indeed she! + The first impulse of Samuel Brohl was to regain the door as speedily as + possible; but he did nothing of the kind. He looked at Mme. de Lorcy: she + herself was regarding him with astonishment; she wondered what could + suddenly have overcome him; she could find no explanation for the + bewilderment apparent in his countenance. “It is a mere chance,” he + thought at last; “she has not intentionally drawn me into a snare.” This + thought was productive of a sort of half relief. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Eh bien!</i> what is it?” she asked. “Has my poor <i>salon</i> still + the misfortune to be hurtful to you?” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to a <i>jardiniere</i>, saying: “You are fond of hyacinths and + tuberoses; their perfume overpowered me for a moment. I fear you think me + very effeminate.” + </p> + <p> + She replied in a caressing voice: “I take you for a most worthy man who + has terrible nerves; but you know by experience that if you have + weaknesses I have salts. Will you have my smelling-bottle?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a thousand times too good,” he rejoined, and bravely marched + forward to face the danger. It is a well-known fact that dangers in a + silken robe are the most formidable of all. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy presented him to the princess, who raised her chin to + examine him with her little glittering eyes. It seemed to him that those + gray orbs directed at him were two balls, which struck him in the heart; + he quivered from head to foot and asked himself confusedly whether he were + dead or living. He soon perceived that he was still living; the princess + had remained impassible—not a muscle of her face had moved. She + ended by bestowing upon Samuel a smile that was almost gracious, and + addressing to him some insignificant words, which he only half understood, + but which seemed to him exquisite—delicious. He fancied that she was + saying to him: “You have a chance, you were born lucky; my sight has been + impaired for some years, and I do not recognise you. Bless your star, you + are saved!” He experienced such a transport of joy that he could have + flung his arms about the neck of Abbe Miollens, who came up to him with + extended hand, saying: + </p> + <p> + “What have you been thinking about, my dear count? Since we last met a + very great event has been accomplished. What woman wishes, God wishes; + but, after all, my own humble efforts were not without avail, and I am + proud of it.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy requested Count Larinski to offer his arm to Princess Gulof + and lead her out to dinner. He mechanically complied; but he had not the + strength to utter a syllable as he conducted the princess to table. She + herself said nothing; she seemed wholly busied in arranging with her + unoccupied hand a lock of her gray hair, which had strayed too far over + her forehead. He looked fixedly at this short, plump hand, which one day + in a fit of jealous fury had administered to him two smart blows; his + cheeks recognised it. + </p> + <p> + During dinner the princess was very gay: she paid more attention to Abbe + Miollens than to Count Larinski; she took pleasure in teasing the good + priest—in endeavouring to shock him a little. It was not easy to + shock him; to his natural, easy good-nature he united an innate respect + for grandeurs and for princesses. She did not neglect so good an + opportunity to air her monkey-development theories. He merrily flung back + the ball; he declared that he should prefer to be a fallen angel rather + than a perfected monkey; that in his estimation a parvenu made a much + sorrier figure in the world than the descendent of an old family of ruined + nobility. She replied that she was more democratic than he. “It is + pleasant to me,” said she, “to think that I am a progressive ape, who has + a wide future before him, and who, by taking proper pains, may hope to + attain new advancement.” + </p> + <p> + While they were thus chatting, Samuel Brohl was striving with all his + might to recover from the terrible blow he had received. He noted with + keen satisfaction that the eyesight of the princess was considerably + impaired; that the microscopic studies, for which she had always had a + taste, had resulted in rendering her somewhat near-sighted; that she was + obliged to look out carefully to find her way among her wine-glasses. “She + has not seen me for six years,” thought he, “and I have become a different + man, I have undergone a complete metamorphosis; I have difficulty + sometimes in recognising myself. Formerly, my face was close-shaven, now I + have let my entire beard grow. My voice, my accent, the poise of my head, + my manners, the expression of my countenance, all are changed; Poland has + entered my blood—I am Samuel no longer, I am Larinski.” He blessed + the microscope, which enfeebled the sight of old women; he blessed Count + Abel Larinski, who had made of him his twin brother. Before the end of the + repast he had recovered all his assurance, all his aplomb. He began to + take part in the conversation: he recounted in a sorrowful tone a + sorrowful little story; he retailed sundry playful anecdotes with a + melancholy grace and sprightliness; he expressed the most chivalrous + sentiments; shaking his lion’s mane, he spoke of the prisoner at the + Vatican with tears in his voice. It were impossible to be a more thorough + Larinski. + </p> + <p> + The princess manifested, in listening to him, an astonished curiosity; she + concluded by saying to him: “Count, I admire you; but I believe only in + physiology, and you are a little too much of a Pole for me.” + </p> + <p> + After they had left the table and repaired to the <i>salon</i>, several + callers dropped in. It was like a deliverance to Samuel. If the society + was not numerous enough for him to lose himself in it, at least it served + him as a shield. He held it for a certainty that the princess had not + recognised him; yet he did not cease feeling in her presence unutterably + ill at ease. This Calmuck visage of hers recalled to him all the miseries, + the shame, the hard, grinding slavery of his youth; he could not look at + her without feeling his brow burn as though it were being seared with a + hot iron. + </p> + <p> + He entered into conversation with a supercilious, haughty, and pedantic + counsellor-at-law, whose interminable monologues distilled ennui. This + fine speaker seemed charming to Samuel, who found in him wit, knowledge, + scholarship, and taste; he possessed the (in his eyes) meritorious quality + of not knowing Samuel Brohl. For Samuel had come to divide the human race + into two categories: the first comprehended those well-to-do, thriving + people who did not know a certain Brohl; he placed in the second old women + who did know him. He interrogated the counsellor with deference, he hung + upon his words, he smiled with an air of approbation at all the + absurdities that escaped him; he would have been willing to have his + discourse last three hours by the watch; if this charming bore had shown + symptoms of escaping him, he would have held him back by the button. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he heard a harsh voice, saying to Mme. de Lorcy: “Where is Count + Larinski? Bring him to me; I want to have a discussion with him.” + </p> + <p> + He could not do otherwise than comply; he quitted his counsellor with + regret, went over and took a seat in the arm-chair that Mme. de Lorcy drew + up for him at the side of the princess, and which had for him the effect + of a stool of repentance. Mme. de Lorcy moved away, and he was left <i>tete-a-tete</i> + with Princess Gulof, who said to him, “I have been told that + congratulations are due to you, and I must make them at once—although + we are enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “By what right are we enemies, princess?” he asked with a slightly + troubled feeling, which quickly passed away as she answered: + </p> + <p> + “I am a Russian and you are a Pole, but we shall have no time for + fighting; I leave for London to-morrow morning at seven o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + He was on the point of casting himself at her feet and tenderly kissing + her two hands, in testimony of his gratitude. “To-morrow at seven + o’clock,” he mentally ejaculated. “I have slandered her; she has some good + in her.” + </p> + <p> + “When I say that I am a Russian,” resumed the princess, “it is merely a + formal speech. Love of country is a prejudice, an idea that has had its + day, that had sense in the times of Epaminondas or of Theseus, but that + has it no longer. We live in the age of the telegraph, the locomotive; and + I know of nothing more absurd now than a frontier, or more ridiculous than + a patriot. Rumour says that you fought like a hero in the insurrection of + 1863; that you gave proof of incomparable prowess, and that you killed + with your own hand ten Cossacks? What harm had they done you, those poor + Cossacks? Do they not sometimes haunt your dreams? Can you think of your + victims without disquietude and without remorse?” + </p> + <p> + He replied, in a dry, haughty tone: “I really do not know, princess, how + many Cossacks I have killed; but I do know that there are some subjects on + which I do not love to expatiate.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right—I should not comprehend you. Don Quixote did not do + Sancho the honour to explain himself to him every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I beg of you, let us talk a little of the man-monkey,” he observed, + in a rather more pliant tone than he had at first assumed. “That is a + question that has the advantage of being neither Russian nor Polish.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not succeed that way in throwing me off the track. I mean to + tell you all the evil I think of you, no matter how it may incense you. + You uttered, at table, theories that displeased me. You are not only a + Polish patriot; you are an idealist, a true disciple of Plato, and you do + not know how I always have detested this man. In all these sixty years + that I have been in this world, I have seen nothing but selfishness, and + grasping after self-gratification. Twice during dinner you spoke of an + ideal world. What is an ideal world? Where is it situated? You speak of it + as of a house whose inhabitants you are well acquainted with, whose key is + in your pocket. Can you show me the key? I promise not to steal it from + you. O poet!—for you are quite as much of a poet as of a Pole, which + is not saying much—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing remains but to hang me,” he interposed, smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I shall not hang you. Opinions are free, and there is room enough in + the world for all, even idealists. Besides, if you were to be hanged, it + would bring to the verge of despair a charming girl who adores you, who + was created expressly for you, and whom you will shortly marry. When will + the ceremony take place?” + </p> + <p> + “If I dared hope that you would do me the honour of being present, + princess, I should postpone it until your return from England.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too amiable; but I could not on any consideration retard the + happiness of Mlle. Moriaz. There, my dear count, I congratulate you + sincerely. I had the pleasure to meet here the future Countess Larinski. + She is adorable! It is an exquisite nature, hers—a true poet’s wife. + She must have brains, discernment; she has chosen you—that says + everything. As to her fortune, I dare not ask you if she has any; you + would turn away from me in disgust. Do idealists trouble their heads with + such vile questions?” + </p> + <p> + She leaned towards him, and, fanning herself excitedly, added: “These poor + idealists! they have one misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that, princess?” + </p> + <p> + “They dream with open eyes, and the awakening is sometimes disagreeable. + Ah, my dear Count Larinski, this, that, and the other, <i>et cetera</i>. + Thus endeth the adventure.” + </p> + <p> + Then, stretching out her neck until her face was close to his, she darted + at him a venomous, viper-like look, and, in a voice that seemed to cut + into his tympanum like a sharp-toothed saw, she hissed, “Samuel Brohl, the + man with the green eyes, sooner or later the mountains must meet!” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him that the candelabra on the mantel-piece darted out jets + of flame, whose green, blue, and rose-coloured tongues ascended to the + ceiling; and it appeared to him as though his heart was beating as noisily + as a clock-pendulum, and that every one would turn to inquire whence came + the noise. But every one was occupied; no one turned round; no one + suspected that there was a man present on whom a thunderbolt had just + fallen. + </p> + <p> + The man passed his hand over his brow, which was covered with a cold + sweat; then dispelling, by an effort of will, the cloud that veiled his + eyes, he, in turn, leaned towards the princess, and with quivering lip and + evil, sardonic glance, said to her, in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Princess, I have a slight acquaintance with this Samuel Brohl of whom you + speak. He is not a man who will allow himself to be strangled without a + great deal of outcry. You are not much in the habit of writing, + nevertheless he received from you two letters, which he copied, placing + the originals in safety. If ever he sees the necessity of appearing in a + court of justice, these two letters can be made to create quite a + sensation, and unquestionably they will be the delight of all the petty + journals of Paris.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he made a profound bow, respectfully took leave of Mme. de + Lorcy, and retired, followed by Abbe Miollens, who inflicted a real + torture by insisting on accompanying him to the station. + </p> + <p> + No longer restrained by Mme. de Lorcy’s presence, the abbe spoke freely of + the happy event in which he prided himself to have been a co-operator; he + overwhelmed him with congratulation, and all the good wishes he could + possibly think of for his happiness. During a quarter of an hour he + lavished on him his myrrh and honey. Samuel would gladly have wrung his + neck. He could not breathe until the abbe had freed him from his obtrusive + society. + </p> + <p> + A storm muttered in the almost cloudless sky. It was a dry storm; the rain + fell elsewhere. The incessant lightning, accompanied by distant thunder, + gleamed from all quarters of the horizon, and darted its luminous flashes + over the whole extent of the plain. At intervals the hills seemed to be on + fire. Several times Samuel, who stood with his nose against the glass of + the car-door, thought that he saw in the direction of Cormeilles the + flaring light of a conflagration, in which were blazing his dream and two + millions, to say nothing of his great expectations. + </p> + <p> + He bitterly reproached himself for his folly of the previous day. “If I + had passed yesterday evening with her,” he thought, “surely she would have + spoken of the Princess Gulof. I would have taken measures accordingly, and + nothing would have happened.” It was all M. Langis’s fault; it was to him + that he imputed the disaster, and he hated him all the more. + </p> + <p> + However, as he approached Paris, he felt his courage returning. + </p> + <p> + “Those two letters frightened the old fairy,” he thought. “She will think + twice before she declares war with me. No, she will not dare.” He added: + “And if she dared, Antoinette loves me so much that I can make her believe + what I please.” + </p> + <p> + And he prepared in his mind what he should say, in case the event + occurred. + </p> + <p> + At that very moment Mme. de Lorcy, who was alone with Princess Gulof, was + saying: “Well, my dear, you have talked with my man. What do you think of + him?” + </p> + <p> + The princess distressed her by her reply. “I think, my dear,” she + rejoined, “that Count Larinski is the last of the heroes of romance—or, + if you like better, the last of the troubadours; but I have no reason to + believe him to be an adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Lorcy could get nothing further from Princess Gulof; she had + invited her to remain overnight; she got no pay for her hospitality. The + princess spent part of the night in reflecting and deliberating. Samuel + Brohl’s insolent menace had produced some effect. She sought to remember + the exact purport of the two letters that formerly she had had the + imprudence to write him from London, while he was fulfilling a business + commission for her in Paris. On his return she had required Samuel to burn + these two compromising epistles, in her presence; he had deceived her; he + burned the envelopes and blank paper. The thought of some day having her + composition quoted in court, and printed verbatim in the petty journals, + terrified her, and made her blood boil in her veins; she hardly cared to + take Paris and St. Petersburg into her confidence concerning an experience + the recollection of which caused her disgust—but to let such an + admirable opportunity of vengeance escape her! renounce the delight of the + gods and of princesses! permit this man who had just defied her to + accomplish his underhand intrigue! She could not resign herself to the + idea, and the consequence was that, during the night she spent at Maisons, + she scarcely closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + The following day, after breakfast, Mlle. Moriaz was walking alone on the + terrace. The weather was delightfully mild. She was bare-headed, and had + opened her white silk umbrella to protect herself from the sun; for Samuel + Brohl had been a true prophet—there was sunshine. She looked up at + the sky, where no trace was left of the wind-storm of the preceding + evening, and it seemed to her that she never had seen the sky so blue. She + looked at her flower-beds, and the flowers that she saw were perhaps not + there. She looked at the orchard, growing on the slope that bordered the + terrace, and she admired the foliage of the apple-trees, over which + Autumn, with liberal hand, had scattered gold and purple; the grass there + was as high as her knee, and was fragrant and glossy. Above the + apple-trees she saw the spire of the church at Cormeilles; it seemed to + amuse itself watching the flying clouds. It was a high-festival day. The + bells were ringing out a full peal; they spoke to this happy girl of that + far-off, mysterious land which we remember, without ever having seen it. + Their silvery voices were answered by the cheerful cackling of the hens. + She at once understood that a joyful event was occurring in the + poultry-yard, as well as in the belfry; that below, as well as above, an + arrival was being celebrated. But what pleased her more than all the rest + was the little deep-set gateway with its ivy-hung arch at the end of the + orchard. It was through this gate that he would come. + </p> + <p> + She walked several times around the terrace. The gravel was elastic, and + rebounded under her step. Never had Mlle. Moriaz felt so light: life, the + present, the future, weighed no heavier on her brow than a bird in the + hand that holds it and feels it tremble. Her heart fluttered like a bird; + like a bird it had wings, and only asked to fly. She believed that there + was happiness everywhere; there seemed to be joy diffused through the air, + in the wind, in every sound, and in all silences. She gazed smilingly on + the vast landscape that was spread out before her eyes, and the sparkling + Seine sent back her smile. + </p> + <p> + Some one came to announce that a lady, a stranger, had called, who wished + to speak with her. Immediately thereupon the stranger appeared, and Mlle. + Moriaz was most disagreeably surprised to find herself in the presence of + the Princess Gulof, whom she would willingly never have seen again. “This + is an unpleasant visit,” she thought, as she asked her guest to be seated + on a rustic bench. “What can this woman want with me?” + </p> + <p> + “It was M. Moriaz whom I desired to speak with,” began the princess. “I am + told that he is out. I shall leave in a few hours for Calais; I cannot + await his return, and I have, therefore, decided to address myself to you, + mademoiselle. I have come here to render you one of those little services + that one woman owes to another; but, first of all, I would like to be + assured that I may rely on your absolute discretion; I do not desire to + appear in this affair.” + </p> + <p> + “In what affair, madame?” + </p> + <p> + “One of no little consequence; it concerns your marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “You are extremely kind to concern yourself with my marriage; but I do not + understand——” + </p> + <p> + “You will understand in a few moments. So you promise me——” + </p> + <p> + “I promise nothing, madame, before I understand.” + </p> + <p> + The princess looked in amazement at Mlle. Moriaz. She had anticipated + talking with a dove; she found that the dove had a less accommodating + temper and a much stiffer neck than she had believed. She hesitated for a + moment whether she would not at once end the interview; she decided, + however, to proceed: + </p> + <p> + “I have a story to relate to you,” she continued, in a familiar tone; + “listen with attention, I beg of you. I err if in the end you do not find + it interesting. Thirteen or fourteen years ago, one of those unlucky + chances, common in travelling, obliged me to pass several hours in a + miserable little town in Galicia. The inn, or rather the tavern, where I + stopped, was very dirty; the tavern-keeper, an ill-looking little German + Jew, was still dirtier than his tavern, and he had a son who was in no + better condition. I am given to forming illusions about people. In spite + of his filth, this youth interested me. His stupid father refused him all + instruction, and beat him unmercifully; he appeared intelligent; he made + me think of a fresh-water fish condemned to live in a quagmire. He was + called Samuel Brohl: remember the name. I pitied him and I saw no other + way of saving him than to buy him of his father. This horrid little man + demanded an exorbitant price. I assure you his pretensions were absurd. + Well, my dear, I was out of cash; I had with me just the money sufficient + for the expenses of the rest of the journey; but I wore on my arm a + bracelet that had the advantage of pleasing him. It was a Persian trinket, + more singular than beautiful. I can see it now; it was formed of three + large plates of gold ornamented with grotesque animals, and joined by a + filigree network. I valued this bracelet; it had been brought to me from + Teheran. By means of a secret spring, one of the plates opened, and I had + had engraved inside the most interesting dates of my life, and underneath + them my profession of faith, with which you have no concern. Ah! my dear, + when one has once been touched by that dangerous passion called + philanthropy, one becomes capable of exchanging a Persian bracelet for a + Samuel Brohl, and I swear to you that it was a real fool’s bargain that I + made. This miserable fellow paid me badly for my kindness to him. I sent + him to the university, and later I took him into my service as secretary. + He had a black heart. One fine morning, he took to his heels and + disappeared.” + </p> + <p> + “That was revolting ingratitude,” interrupted Antoinette, “and your good + work, madame, was poorly recompensed; but I do not see what relation + Samuel Brohl can have to my marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too impatient, my darling. If you had given me time I would have + told you that I had had the very unexpected pleasure of dining yesterday + with him at Mme. de Lorcy’s. This German has made great advances since I + lost sight of him; not content with becoming a Pole, he is now a person of + vast importance. He is called Count Abel Larinski, and he is to marry very + soon Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rushed into Antoinette’s cheeks, and her eyes flashed fire. + Princess Gulof entirely mistook the sentiment that animated her, and said: + “My dear, don’t be angry, don’t be indignant, your indignation will not + help you at all. Without doubt, a rascal capable of deceiving such a + charming girl as you deserves death ten times over; but be careful not to + make an exposure! My dear, scandal always splashes mud over every one + concerned, and there is a rather vulgar but exceedingly sensible Turkish + proverb that says that the more garlic is crushed, the stronger becomes + its odour. Believe me, you would not come off without a tinge of ridicule; + certain mistakes always appear a little ridiculous, and it is useless to + proclaim them to the universe. Thank Heaven! you are not yet the Countess + Larinski—I arrived in time to save you. Be silent about the + discovery you have just made; by no means mention it to Samuel Brohl, and + seek a proper pretext to break with him. You would not be a woman if you + could not find ten for one.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz could no longer refrain her anger. “Madame,” she exclaimed + excitedly, “will you declare to M. Larinski, in my presence, that his name + is Samuel Brohl?” + </p> + <p> + “I made that declaration to him yesterday—it is useless to repeat + it. He was nearer dead than alive, and I was truly sorry for the state + into which I had thrown him. I cannot disguise from myself that I am the + cause of all this; why did I take the boy from his father’s tavern and his + natal mud? Perhaps there he would have remained honest. It was I who + launched him into the world and gave him the desire to advance, I put the + trump-cards into his hand, but he found that he could not win fast enough + by fair play, so he ended by cheating. It is not my place to overwhelm the + poor devil—we owe some consideration to those who are under + obligations to us; and, once more, I desire not to appear further in this + business. Promise me that Samuel Brohl never will be informed of the + measures I have taken.” + </p> + <p> + She replied, in a haughty tone: “I promise you, madame, that I never will + do Count Larinski the wrong to repeat to him a single word of the very + likely story you have related to me.” + </p> + <p> + The princess rose hastily, remained standing before Mlle. Moriaz, and + contemplated her in silence; finally she said, in tones of the most + cutting sarcasm: “Ah! you do not believe me, my dear. Decidedly you do not + believe me. You are right; you should not put faith in an old woman’s + childish chatter. No, my darling, there is no Samuel Brohl: I dined + yesterday at Maisons with the most authentic of Counts Larinski, and + nothing remains for me to say but to present my best wishes for the + certain happiness of the Countess Larinski, <i>et cetera</i>—of the + Countess Larinski and company.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she bowed, turned on her heels, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz remained an instant as if stunned by a blow. She questioned + herself as to whether she had not seen a vision, or had had the nightmare. + Was it, indeed, a Russian princess of flesh and blood who had just been + there, who had been seated close beside her, and had conversed so + strangely with her that the belfry of Cormeilles could not hear it without + falling into a profound stupor? In fact, the belfry of Cormeilles had + become silent, its bells no longer rang; an appalling silence reigned for + two leagues round. + </p> + <p> + Antoinette soon controlled her emotions. “The day before yesterday,” she + thought, “this woman appeared to me to be deranged: she is a lunatic; I + wish that Abel were here, he could tell me what happened at dinner between + him and this dotard, and we should laugh over it together. Perhaps nothing + happened at all. The Princess Gulof should be confined. They do very wrong + to let maniacs like that go at large. It is dangerous; the bells of + Cormeilles have ceased ringing. Ah! <i>bon Dieu</i>, who knows? Mme. de + Lorcy surely has a hand in this business; it is the result of some grand + plot. How many acts are there in the play? Here we are at the second or + third; but there are some jokes that are very provoking. I shall end by + being seriously angry.” + </p> + <p> + Princess Gulof appeared to have entirely failed in her object. It seemed + to Mlle. Moriaz that for the last twenty minutes she loved Count Larinski + more than ever before. + </p> + <p> + The hour drew near; he was on the way; she had never been so impatient to + see him. She saw some one at the end of the terrace. It was M. Camille + Langis, who was going towards the laboratory. + </p> + <p> + He turned his head, retraced his steps, and came to her. M. Moriaz had + asked him to translate two pages of a German memoir which he had not been + able to understand. Camille was bringing the translation; perhaps that was + the reason of his coming back to Cormeilles after two days; perhaps, too, + it was only a pretext. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz could not help thinking that his visit was inopportune; that + he had chose an unfortunate time for it. “If the count finds him still + here,” thought she, “I am not afraid that he will make a scene, but all + his pleasure will be spoiled.” There was a tinge of coldness in her + welcome to M. Langis, of which he was sensible. + </p> + <p> + “I am in the way,” he said, making a movement to retire. + </p> + <p> + She kept him, and altered her tone: “You are never in the way, Camille. + Sit there.” + </p> + <p> + He seated himself, and talked of the races at Chantilly, that he had + attended the day before. + </p> + <p> + She listened to him, bowed her head in sign of approval; but she heard his + voice through a mist that veiled her senses. She lifted her hand to brush + away a wasp that annoyed her by its buzzing. The lace of her cuff, in + falling back, left her wrist exposed. + </p> + <p> + “What a curious bracelet you have!” said M. Langis. + </p> + <p> + “Have you not seen it before?” she replied. “It is some time since——” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted herself, a sudden idea occurring to her. She looked at her + wrist. This bracelet from which she never was parted—this bracelet + that Count Larinski had given to her—this bracelet that he loved + because it had belonged to his mother, and that the late Countess Larinski + had worn as long as she lived—resembled none other; but Mlle. Moriaz + observed that it had a strong resemblance to the Persian bracelet that the + Princess Gulof had described to her, and which she had exchanged for + Samuel Brohl. The three gold plates, the grotesque animals, the filigree + network—nothing was wanting. She took it from her arm and handed it + to M. Langis, saying to him: “There is, it seems, something written on the + interior of one of these plates; but you must know the secret to be able + to open it. Can you guess secrets?” + </p> + <p> + He carefully examined the bracelet. “Two of these plates,” said he, “are + solid, and of heavy gold; the third is hollow, and might serve as a case. + I see a little hinge that is almost invisible; but I seek in vain for the + secret—I cannot find it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the hinge strong?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very, and the lid easily could be forced open.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I want you to do,” she rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of? I would not spoil a trinket that you value.” + </p> + <p> + She replied: “I have made the acquaintance of a Russian princess who has a + mania for physiology and dissection. I have caught the disease, and I want + to begin to dissect. I am fond of this trinket, but I want to know what is + inside. Do as I tell you,” she continued. “You will find in the laboratory + the necessary instruments. Go; the key is in the door.” + </p> + <p> + He consulted her look; her eye was burning, her voice broken, and she + repeated: “Go—go! Do you not understand me?” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed, went to the laboratory, taking the bracelet with him. After + five minutes he returned saying: “I am very unskilful; I crushed the lid + in raising it; but you wished it, and your curiosity will be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + She could, in truth, satisfy her curiosity. She eagerly seized the + bracelet, and on the back of the plate, now left bare, she saw engraved in + the gold, characters almost microscopic in size. Through the greatest + attention she succeeded in deciphering them. She distinguished several + dates, marking the year, the month, and the day, when some important event + had occurred to the Princess Gulof. These dates, accompanied by no + indication of any kind, formerly sufficed to recall the principal + experiments that she had practised on mankind before having discovered + Samuel Brohl. The result had not been very cheerful, for beneath this form + of calendar stood a confession of faith, thus expressed, “Vanity of + vanities, all is vanity!” This melancholy declaration was signed, and the + signature was perfectly legible. Mlle. Moriaz spelled it out readily, + although at that moment her sight was dim, and she was convinced that the + trinket, which Count Larinski had presented to her as a family relic, had + belonged to Anna Petrovna, Princess Gulof. + </p> + <p> + She grew mortally pale, and lost consciousness; she seemed on the verge of + an attack of delirium. In the agitation of her mind, she imagined that she + saw herself at a great distance, at the end of the world, and very small; + she was climbing a mountain, on the other side of which there was a man + awaiting her. She questioned herself, “Am I, or is this traveller, Mlle. + Moriaz?” She closed her eyes, and saw a blank abyss open before her, in + which her life was ingulfed, whirled about, like the leaf of a tree in a + whirlpool. + </p> + <p> + M. Langis drew near her, and, lightly slapping the palms of her hands, + said, “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + She roused herself, made an effort to lift her head, and let it sink + again. The trouble that lay in the depths of her heart choked her; she + experienced an irresistible need of confiding in some one, and she judged + that the man who was talking to her was one of those men to whom a woman + can tell her secret, one of those souls to whom she could pour out her + shame without blushing. She began, in a broken voice, a confused, + disconnected recital that Camille could scarcely follow. However, he + finally understood; he felt himself divided between an immense pity for + her despair, and a fierce lover’s joy that tightened his throat and + well-nigh strangled him. + </p> + <p> + The belfry of Cormeilles had recovered its voice; two o’clock rang out on + the air. Antoinette rose and exclaimed: “I was to meet him at the pretty + little gate that you see from here! He will have the right to be angry if + I keep him waiting.” + </p> + <p> + At once she hastened towards the balustered steps that led from the + terrace to the orchard. M. Langis followed her, seeking to detain her. + “You need not see him again,” said he. “I will meet him. Pray, charge me + with your explanations.” + </p> + <p> + She repelled him and replied, in a voice of authority: “I wish to see him, + no one but I can say to him what I have in my heart. I command you to + remain here; I intend that he shall blame no one but me.” She added with a + curl of the lips meant for a smile: “You must remember, I do not believe + yet that I have been deceived; I will not believe it until I have read the + lie in his eyes.” + </p> + <p> + She hastily descended into the orchard, and, during five minutes, her eye + fixed on the gate, she waited for Samuel Brohl. Her impatience counted the + seconds, and yet Mlle. Moriaz could have wished the gate would never open. + There was near by an old apple-tree that she loved; in the old days she + had more than once suspended her hammock from one of its arched and + drooping branches. She leaned against the gnarled trunk of the old tree. + It seemed to her that she was not alone; some one protected her. + </p> + <p> + At last the gate opened and admitted Samuel Brohl, who had a smile on his + lips. His first words were: “And your umbrella! You have forgotten it?” + </p> + <p> + She replied: “Do you not see that there is no sunshine?” And she remained + leaning against the apple-tree. + </p> + <p> + He uplifted his hand to show her the blue sky; he let it fall again. He + looked at Antoinette, and he was afraid. He guessed immediately that she + knew all. At once he grew audacious. + </p> + <p> + “I spent a dull day yesterday,” said he. “Mme. de Lorcy invited me to dine + with a crazy woman; but the night made up for it. I saw Engadine in my + dreams—the firs, the Alpine pines, the emerald lakes, and a red + hood.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, dreamed last night. I dreamed that the bracelet you gave me + belonged to the crazy woman of whom you speak, and that she had her name + engraved on it.” + </p> + <p> + She threw him the bracelet: he picked it up, examined it, turned and + returned it in his trembling fingers. She grew impatient. “Look at the + place that has been forced open. Don’t you know how to read?” + </p> + <p> + He read, and became stupefied. Who would have believed that this trinket + that he had found among his father’s old traps had come to him from + Princess Gulof? that it was the price she had paid for Samuel Brohl’s + ignominy and shame? Samuel was a fatalist; he felt that his star had set, + that Fate had conspired to ruin his hopes, that he was found guilty and + condemned. His heart grew heavy within him. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me what I ought to think of a certain Samuel Brohl?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + That name, pronounced by her, fell on him like a mass of lead; he never + would have believed that there could be so much weight in a human word. He + trembled under the blow; then he struck his brow with his clinched hand + and replied: + </p> + <p> + “Samuel Brohl is a man as worthy of your pity as he is of mine. If you + knew all that he has suffered, all that he has dared, you could not help + deeply pitying him and admiring him. Listen to me; Samuel Brohl is an + unfortunate man—” + </p> + <p> + “Or a wretch!” she interrupted, in a terrible voice. She was seized by a + fit of nervous laughter; she cried out: “Mme. Brohl! I will not be called + Mme. Brohl. Ah! that poor Countess Larinski!” + </p> + <p> + He had a spasm of rage that would have terrified her had she conjectured + what agitated him. He raised his head, crossed his arms on his breast, and + said, with a bitter smile: + </p> + <p> + “It was not the man that you loved, it was the count.” + </p> + <p> + She replied, “The man whom I loved never lied.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I lied!” he cried, gasping for breath. “I drank that cup of shame + without remorse or disgust. I lied because I loved you madly. I lied + because you were dearer to me than my honour. I lied because I despaired + of touching your heart, and any road seemed good that led to you. Why did + I meet you? why could I not see you without recognising in you the dream + of my whole life? Happiness had passed me by, it was about to take flight; + I caught it in a trap—I lied. Who would not lie, to be loved by + you?” + </p> + <p> + Samuel Brohl never had looked so handsome. Despair and passion kindled a + sombre flame in his eyes; he had the sinister charm of a fiery Satan. He + fixed on Antoinette a fascinating glance that said: “What matter my name, + my lies, and the rest? My face is not a mask, and I am the man who pleased + you.” He had not the least suspicion of the astonishing facility with + which Antoinette had taken back the heart that she had given away so + easily; he did not suspect that miracles can be wrought by contempt. In + the middle ages people believed in golems, figures in clay of an + entrancing beauty, which had all the appearance of life. Under a lock of + hair was written, in Hebrew characters, on their brow, the word “Truth.” + If they chanced to lie, the word was obliterated; they lost all their + charm, the clay was no longer anything but clay. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Moriaz divined Samuel Brohl’s thought; she exclaimed: “The man I + loved was he whose history you related to me.” + </p> + <p> + He would have liked to kill her, so that she never should belong to + another. Behind Antoinette, not twenty steps distant, he descried the curb + of a well, and grew dizzy at the sight. He discovered, with despair, that + he was not made of the stuff for crime. He dropped down on his knees in + the grass, and cried, “If you will not pardon me, nothing remains for me + but to die!” She stood motionless and impassive. She repeated between her + teeth Camille Langis’s phrase: “I am waiting until this great comedian has + finished playing his piece.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and started to run towards the well. She was in front of him and + barred the passage, but at the same moment she felt two hands clasp her + waist, and the breath of two lips that sought her lips and that murmured, + “You love me still, since you do not want me to die.” + </p> + <p> + She struggled with violence and horror; she succeeded, by a frantic + effort, in disengaging herself from his grasp. She fled towards the house. + Samuel Brohl rushed after her in mad pursuit; he was just reaching her, + when he suddenly stopped. He had caught sight of M. Langis, hurrying from + out a thicket, where he had been hidden. Growing uneasy, he had approached + the orchard through a path concealed by the heavy foliage. Antoinette, out + of breath, ran to him, gasping, “Camille, save me from this man!” and she + threw herself into his arms, which closed about her with delight. He felt + her sink; she would have fallen had he not supported her. + </p> + <p> + At the same instant a menacing voice saluted him with the words, + “Monsieur, we will meet again!” + </p> + <p> + “To-day, if you will,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Antoinette’s wild excitement had given place to insensibility; she neither + saw nor heard; her limbs no longer sustained her. Camille had great + difficulty in bringing her to the house; she could not ascend the steps of + the terrace; he was obliged to carry her. Mlle. Moiseney saw him, and + filled the air with her cries. She ran forward, she lavished her best care + on her queen. All the time she was busy in bringing her to her senses she + was asking Camille for explanations, to which she did not pay the least + attention; she interrupted him at every word to exclaim: “This has been + designed, and you are at the bottom of the plot. I have suspected you—you + owe Antoinette a grudge. Your wounded vanity never has recovered from her + refusal, and you are determined to be revenged. Perhaps you flatter + yourself that she will end by loving you. She does not love you, and she + never will love you. Who are you, to dare compare yourself with Count + Larinski? Be silent! Do I believe in Samuel Brohl? I do not know Samuel + Brohl. I venture my head that there is no such person as Samuel Brohl.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much of a venture, mademoiselle,” replied M. Moriaz, who had arrived + in the meantime. + </p> + <p> + Antoinette remained during an hour in a state of mute languor; then a + violent fever took possession of her. When the physician who had been sent + for arrived, M. Langis accompanied him into the chamber of the sick girl. + She was delirious: seated upright, she kept continually passing her hand + over her brow; she sought to efface the taint of a kiss she had received + one moonlight night, and the impression in her hair of the flapping of a + bat’s wings that had caught in her hood. These two things were confounded + in her memory. From time to time she said: “Where is my portrait? Give me + my portrait.” + </p> + <p> + It was about ten o’clock when M. Langis called on Samuel Brohl, who was + not astonished to see him appear; he had hoped he would come. Samuel had + regained self-possession. He was calm and dignified. However, the tempest + through which he had gone had left on his features some vestige of its + passage. His lips quivered, and his beautiful chestnut locks curled like + serpents about his temples, and gave his head a Medusa-like appearance. + </p> + <p> + He said to Camille: “Where and when? Our seconds will undertake the + arrangement of the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake, monsieur, the motive of my visit,” replied M. Langis. “I am + grieved to destroy your illusions, but I did not come to arrange a meeting + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you refuse to give me satisfaction?” + </p> + <p> + “What satisfaction do I owe you?” + </p> + <p> + “You insulted me.” + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “And you said: ‘The day, the place, the weapons. I leave all to your + choice.’” + </p> + <p> + M. Langis could not refrain from smiling. “Ah! you at last acknowledge + that your fainting-fit was comedy?” he rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Acknowledge on your part,” replied Samuel, “that you insult persons when + you believe that they are not in a state to hear you. Your courage likes + to take the safe side.” + </p> + <p> + “Be reasonable,” replied Camille. “I placed myself at Count Larinski’s + disposal: you cannot require me to fight with a Samuel Brohl!” + </p> + <p> + Samuel sprang to his feet; with fierce bearing and head erect he advanced + to the young man, who awaited him unflinchingly, and whose resolute manner + awed him. He cast upon him a sinister look, turned, and reseated himself, + bit his lips until the blood came; then said in a placid voice: + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the favour of telling me, monsieur, to what I owe the + honour of this visit?” + </p> + <p> + “I came to demand of you a portrait that Mlle. Moriaz is desirous of + having returned.” + </p> + <p> + “If I refuse to give it up, you will doubtless appeal to my delicacy?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you doubt it?” ironically replied Camille. + </p> + <p> + “That proves, monsieur, that you still believe in Count Larinski; that it + is to him you speak at this moment?” + </p> + <p> + “You deceive yourself. I came to see Samuel Brohl, who is a business-man, + and it is a commercial transaction that I intend to hold with him.” And + drawing from his pocket a porte-monnaie, he added: “You see I do not come + empty-handed.” + </p> + <p> + Samuel settled himself in his arm-chair. Half closing his eyes, he watched + M. Langis through his eye-lashes. A change passed over his features; his + nose became more crooked, and his chin more pointed; he no longer + resembled a lion, he was a fox. His lips wore the sugared smile of a + usurer, one who lays snares for the sons of wealthy families, and who + scents out every favourable case. If at this moment Jeremiah Brohl had + seen him from the other world, he would have recognised his own flesh and + blood. + </p> + <p> + He said at last to Camille: “You are a man of understanding, monsieur; I + am ready to listen to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad of it, and, to speak frankly, I had no doubts about it. I + knew you to be very intelligent, very much disposed to make the best of an + unpleasant conjuncture.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! spare my modesty. I thank you for your excellent opinion of me; I + should warn you that I am accused of being greedy after gain. You will + leave some of the feathers from your wings between my fingers.” + </p> + <p> + For a reply M. Langis significantly patted the porte-monnaie which he held + in his hand, and which was literally stuffed with bank-notes. Immediately + Samuel took from a locked drawer a casket, and proceeded to open it. + </p> + <p> + “This is a very precious gem,” he said. “The medallion is gold, and the + work on the miniature is exquisite. It is a master-piece—the colour + equals the design. The mouth is marvellously rendered. Mengs or Liotard + could not have done better. At what do you value this work of art?” + </p> + <p> + “You are more of a connoisseur than I. I will leave it to your own + valuation.” + </p> + <p> + “I will let you have the trinket for five thousand francs; it is almost + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Camille began to draw out the five thousand francs from his porte-monnaie. + “How prompt you are!” remarked Samuel. “The portrait has not only a value + as a work of art; I am sure you attach a sentimental value to it, for I + suspect you of being head and ears in love with the original.” + </p> + <p> + “I find you too greedy,” replied Camille, casting on him a crushing + glance. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be angry. I am accustomed to exercise methodical precision in + business affairs. My father always sold at a fixed price, and I, too, + never lower my charges. You will readily understand that what is worth + five thousand francs to a friend is worth double to a lover. This gem is + worth ten thousand francs. You can take it or leave it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take it,” replied M. Langis. + </p> + <p> + “Since we agree,” continued Samuel, “I possess still other articles which + might suit you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, do you think of selling me your clothing?” + </p> + <p> + “Let us come to an understanding. I have other articles of the same lot.” + </p> + <p> + And he brought from a closet the red hood, which he spread out on the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Here is an article of clothing—to use your own words—that may + be of interest to you. Its colour is beautiful; if you saw it in the + sunshine, it would dazzle you. I grant that the stuff is common—it + is very ordinary cashmere—but if you deign to examine it closely, + you will be struck by the peculiar perfume that it exhales. The Italians + call it ‘<i>l’odor femminino</i>.’” + </p> + <p> + “And what is your rate of charge for the ‘<i>odor femminino</i>?’” + </p> + <p> + “I will be moderate. I will let you have this article and its perfume for + five thousand francs. It is actually giving it away.” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly. We will say ten and five—that makes fifteen thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment. You can pay for all together. I have other things to offer + you. One would say that the floor burned your feet, and that you could not + endure being in this room.” + </p> + <p> + “I allow that I long to leave this—what shall I say?—this + shop, lair, or den.” + </p> + <p> + “You are young, monsieur; it never does to hurry; haste causes us acts of + forgetfulness that we afterwards regret. You would be sorry not to take + away with you these two scraps of paper.” + </p> + <p> + At these words he drew from his note-book two letters, which he unfolded. + </p> + <p> + “Is there much more?” demanded Camille. “I fear that I shall become short + of funds, and be obliged to go back for more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! these two letters, I will not part with them for a trifle, the second + especially. It is only twelve lines in length; but what pretty English + handwriting! Only see! and the style is loving and tender. I will add that + it is signed. Ah! monsieur, Mlle. Moriaz will be charmed to see these + scrawls again. Under what obligations she will be to you! You will make + the most of it; you will tell her that you wrested them from me, your + dagger at my throat—that you terrified me. With what a gracious + smile she will reward your heroism! According to my opinion, that smile is + as well worth ten thousand francs as the medallion—the two gems are + of equal value.” + </p> + <p> + “If you want more, it makes no difference.” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; I have told you I have only one price.” + </p> + <p> + “At this rate, it is twenty-five thousand francs that I owe you. You have + nothing more to sell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you swear it?” + </p> + <p> + “What, monsieur! you admit, then, that Samuel Brohl has a word of honour—that + when he has sworn, he can be believed?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right; I am still very young.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all, then, I swear to you,” affirmed Samuel, sighing. “My shop is + poorly stocked; I had begun laying in a supply, but an unfortunate + accident deranged my little business.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! be consoled,” replied M. Langis; “you will find another opportunity; + a genius of such lofty flights as yours never is at a loss. You have been + unfortunate; some day Fortune will compensate you for the wrongs she has + done you, and the world will accord justice to your fine talents.” + </p> + <p> + Speaking thus, he laid on the table twenty-five notes of a thousand francs + each. He counted them; Samuel counted them after him, and at once + delivered to him the medallion, the hood, and the two letters. + </p> + <p> + Camille rose to leave. “Monsieur Brohl,” he said, “from the first day I + saw you, I formed the highest opinion of your character. The reality + surpasses my expectations. I am charmed to have made your acquaintance, + and I venture to hope that you are not sorry to have made mine. However, I + shall not say, <i>au revoir</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” replied Samuel, suddenly changing his countenance and + attitude. And he added, “If you are fond of being astonished, monsieur, + will you remain still another instant in this den?” + </p> + <p> + He rolled and twisted the twenty-five one-thousand-franc notes into + lamp-lighters; then, with a grand gesture, <i>a la Poniatowski</i>, he + approached the candle, held them in the flame until they blazed, and then + threw them on the hearth, where they were soon consumed. + </p> + <p> + Turning towards M. Langis, he cried, “Will you now do me the honour of + fighting with me?” + </p> + <p> + “After such a noble act as that, I can refuse you nothing,” returned + Camille. “I will do you that signal honour.” + </p> + <p> + “Just what I desire,” replied Samuel. “I am the offended; I have the + choice of arms.” And, in showing M. Langis out, he said, “I will not + conceal from you that I have frequented the shooting-galleries, and that I + am a first-class pistol-shot.” + </p> + <p> + Camille bowed and went out. + </p> + <p> + The next day, in a lucid interval, Mlle. Moriaz saw at the foot of her bed + a medallion laid on a red hood. From that moment the physician announced + an improvement in her symptoms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + Six days after these events, Samuel Brohl, having passed through Namur and + Liege without stopping at either place, arrived by rail at + Aix-la-Chapelle. He went directly to the Hotel Royal, close to the + railroad-station; he ordered a hearty dinner to be served him, which he + washed down with foaming champagne. He had an excellent appetite; his soul + kept holiday; his heart was expanded, inflated with joy, and his brain + intoxicated. He had revenged himself; he had meted out justice to that + insolent fellow, his rival. Mlle. Moriaz did not belong to Samuel Brohl, + but she never would belong to Camille Langis. Near the Franco-Belgian + frontier, on the verge of a forest, a man had been shot in the breast; + Samuel Brohl had seen him fall; and some one had cried, “He is dead!” It + is asserted that Aix-la-Chapelle is a very dull city, that the very dogs + suffer so sadly from ennui that they piteously beg passers-by to kick + them, with a view to having a little excitement. Samuel never felt one + moment’s ennui during the evening that he spent in Charlemagne’s city. He + had constantly in mind a certain spot in a forest, and a man falling; and + he experienced a thrill of delight. + </p> + <p> + After the champagne, he drank punch, an after that he slept like a + dormouse; unfortunately, sleep dissipated his exhilaration, and when he + awoke his gaiety had left him. He had the fatal custom of reflecting; his + reflections saddened him; he was revenged, but what then? He thought for a + long while of Mlle. Moriaz; he gazed with melancholy eye at his two hands, + which had allowed her and good fortune to elude their grasp. + </p> + <p> + He recited in a low voice some German verses, signifying: + </p> + <p> + “I have resolved to bury my songs and my dreams; bring me a large coffin. + Why is this coffin so heavy? Because in it with my dreams I have laid away + my love and my sorrows.” + </p> + <p> + When he had recited these verses Samuel felt sadder than before, and he + cursed the poets. “They did me great harm,” he said, bitterly. “Without + them I had spent days interwoven with gold and silk. My future was secure: + it was they who gave me a distaste for my position. I believed in them; I + was the dupe of their hollow declamation; they taught me thoughtless + contempt, and they gave me the sickly ambition to play the silly part of a + man of fine sentiments. I despised the mud. Where am I now?” + </p> + <p> + He had formed the project of going to Holland and of embarking thence for + America. What would he do in the United States? He did not know yet. He + passed in review all the professions that at all suited him; they all + required an outlay for first expenses. Thanks to God and to M. Guldenthal, + whose loan was in the greatest danger, he was not destitute of all + supplies. But a week previous he had held into the flames and burned + twenty-five one-thousand-franc bills of the Bank of France. He felt some + remorse for the act; he could not help thinking that a revenge that cost + twenty-five thousand francs was an article of luxury of which poor devils + should deprive themselves. In thinking over this adventure, it seemed to + him that it was another than himself who had burned those bills, or at + least that he had mechanically executed this <i>auto-da-fe</i> through a + sort of thoughtless impulse, like a puppet moved by an invisible string. + Suddenly the phantom with whom he had had frequent conversations appeared, + and there was a sneer on its lips. Samuel addressed it once more—this + was to be the last time; he said: + </p> + <p> + “Imbecile! You are my evil genius. It was you who caused me to commit this + extravagance. You yourself lighted the candle, you put the bills into my + hands, you guided my arm, extended it, held it above the fatal flame. This + act of supreme heroism was your work; it is not I, it is you, who paid so + dearly for the pleasure of astonishing one who wantonly insulted me, and + of killing him. Cursed forever be the day when I assumed your name, and + when I conceived the foolish notion of becoming your second self! I made + myself a Pole: did Poland ever have the least idea of government? You of + all men were the most incapable of making your way; I aped a poor model + indeed. Abel Larinski, I break off all connection with you; I wind up the + affairs of our firm, I put the key under the door, or drop it down the + well. O my great Pole! I return to you your title, your name, and with + your name all that you gave me—your pride, your pretensions, your + dangerous delicacy, your attitudes, your sentimental grimaces, and your + waving plume.” + </p> + <p> + It was thus that Samuel Brohl took a decisive farewell of Count Abel + Larinski, who might henceforth rest quietly in his grave; there was no + further danger of a dead man being compromised by a living one. What name + did Samuel Brohl mean now to assume? Out of spite to his destiny, he chose + for the time the humblest of all; he decided to call himself Kicks, which + was his mother’s name. + </p> + <p> + His melancholy would have known no bounds, had he suspected that Camille + Langis was still in the world. Camille Langis for two weeks lay between + life and death, but the ball had finally been successfully extracted. Mme. + de Lorcy hastened to Mons and nursed him like a mother; she had the joy of + bringing him back alive to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Care was taken that no mention of the duel should be made to Mlle. Moriaz, + and not a word concerning it reached her; her condition for a long time + caused the gravest anxiety. After she became convalescent she remained + sunk in a gloomy, taciturn sadness. She never made the least allusion to + what had passed, and would not permit any one to speak of it to her. She + had been deceived, and a mortification, mingled with dread, was the result + of her mistake. It seemed to her that nothing remained in life for her but + remembrance and silence. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of November, M. Moriaz proposed to her that they should + return to Paris. She expressed her desire not to leave Cormeilles—to + pass the winter in solitude; the human face terrified her. M. Moriaz tried + to represent to her that she was unreasonable. + </p> + <p> + “Will you wear eternal mourning for a stranger?” he asked; “for, in + reality, the man that you loved you never saw. Ah! <i>mon Dieu</i>, you + deceived, you deluded yourself. Is there, I will not say a single woman, + but a single member of the Institute, who has not once been grossly + imposed on? It is through the means of failures in experiments that + science progresses.” + </p> + <p> + And he rose to still higher considerations; he endeavoured to prove to her + that, if it is bad to have erred, an excessive fear of erring is a still + worse evil, because it is better to lose one’s way than not to walk at + all. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his harangue, she said, shaking her head, “I have no + longer faith in any one.” + </p> + <p> + “What! not even in the brave fellow to whom you owe the recovery of your + portrait and your letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Of whom do you speak?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Then he declared to her how M. Langis had effected the descent into the + den, without telling her what had resulted therefrom. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that was kind, very kind,” she said. “I never doubted that Camille + was a true friend.” + </p> + <p> + “A friend? Are you very sure that it is only friendship that he feels for + you?” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon M. Moriaz told her all the rest. She grew pensive and sank into + a reverie. Suddenly the door of the <i>salon</i> opened, and Camille + entered. After inquiring after her health, he informed her that in + consequence of a cold he, too, had been sick; and, as he was now free from + business engagements, his physician was sending him to pass the winter in + Sorrento. + </p> + <p> + She replied: “That is a journey that I would like to make. Will you take + me with you?” + </p> + <p> + She gazed fixedly at him; there was everything in her gaze. He bent his + knee before her, and for some moments they remained hand-in-hand, and eye + to eye. In the midst of this, Mlle. Moiseney appeared, who, at sight of + this <i>tableau vivant</i>, stood perfectly confounded. + </p> + <p> + “You are very much astonished, mademoiselle,” said M. Moriaz to her. + </p> + <p> + “Not so much as you fancy, monsieur,” replied she, recovering herself. “I + did not dare to say it, but in my heart I always believed, always thought—Yes, + I always was sure that it would end thus.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless Pope Joan!” he cried; “I shall cease to correct her.” + </p> + <p> + We have failed to learn what Samuel Brohl is doing in America. In waiting + for something better, has he become an humble teacher? has he attempted a + new matrimonial enterprise? has he become a reporter of the <i>New York + Herald</i>, or a politician in one of the Northern States, or a + carpet-bagger in South Carolina? does he dream of being some day President + of the glorious republic with the starry banner? + </p> + <p> + Up to the present time, no American journal has devoted the shortest + paragraph to him. Adventurers are beings who constantly vanish and + reappear; they belong to the family of divers; but, after many plunges, + they always end by some catastrophe. The wave supports the drowning man an + instant, then bears him away and drags him down to the depths of the briny + abyss; there is heard a splash, a ripple, a hoarse cry, followed by a + smothered groan, and Samuel Brohl is no more! For some days the question + is agitated whether his real name is Brohl, Kicks, or Larinski; soon + something else is talked about, and his memory becomes a prey to eternal + silence. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Samuel Brohl & Company, by Victor Cherbuliez + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMUEL BROHL & COMPANY *** + +***** This file should be named 2470-h.htm or 2470-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/7/2470/ + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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