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diff --git a/2472-h/2472-h.htm b/2472-h/2472-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2968e07 --- /dev/null +++ b/2472-h/2472-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18735 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + White Lies, by Charles Reade + </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 White Lies, by Charles Reade + +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: White Lies + +Author: Charles Reade + +Release Date: May 16, 2006 [EBook #2472] +Last Updated: September 27, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE LIES *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + WHITE LIES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Charles Reade + </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> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </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> + Towards the close of the last century the Baron de Beaurepaire lived in + the chateau of that name in Brittany. His family was of prodigious + antiquity; seven successive barons had already flourished on this spot + when a younger son of the house accompanied his neighbor the Duke of + Normandy in his descent on England, and was rewarded by a grant of English + land, on which he dug a mote and built a chateau, and called it + Beaurepaire (the worthy Saxons turned this into Borreper without delay). + Since that day more than twenty gentlemen of the same lineage had held in + turn the original chateau and lands, and handed them down to their present + lord. + </p> + <p> + Thus rooted in his native Brittany, Henri Lionel Marie St. Quentin de + Beaurepaire was as fortunate as any man can be pronounced before he dies. + He had health, rank, a good income, a fair domain, a goodly house, a + loving wife, and two lovely young daughters, all veneration and affection. + Two months every year he visited the Faubourg St. Germain and the Court. + At both every gentleman and every lacquey knew his name, and his face: his + return to Brittany after this short absence was celebrated by a rustic + fete. + </p> + <p> + Above all, Monsieur de Beaurepaire possessed that treasure of treasures, + content. He hunted no heart-burns. Ambition did not tempt him; why should + he listen to long speeches, and court the unworthy, and descend to + intrigue, for so precarious and equivocal a prize as a place in the + Government, when he could be De Beaurepaire without trouble or loss of + self-respect? Social ambition could get little hold of him; let parvenus + give balls half in doors, half out, and light two thousand lamps, and + waste their substance battling and manoeuvring for fashionable + distinction; he had nothing to gain by such foolery, nothing to lose by + modest living; he was the twenty-ninth Baron of Beaurepaire. So wise, so + proud, so little vain, so strong in health and wealth and honor, one would + have said nothing less than an earthquake could shake this gentleman and + his house. Yet both were shaken, though rooted by centuries to the soil; + and by no vulgar earthquake. + </p> + <p> + For years France had bowed in silence beneath two galling burdens—a + selfish and corrupt monarchy, and a multitudinous, privileged, lazy, and + oppressive aristocracy, by whom the peasant was handled like a Russian + serf. [Said peasant is now the principal proprietor of the soil.] + </p> + <p> + The lower orders rose upon their oppressors, and soon showed themselves + far blacker specimens of the same breed. Law, religion, humanity, and + common sense, hid their faces; innocent blood flowed in a stream, and + terror reigned. To Monsieur de Beaurepaire these republicans—murderers + of women, children, and kings—seemed the most horrible monsters + nature had ever produced; he put on black, and retired from society; he + felled timber, and raised large sums of money upon his estate. And one day + he mounted his charger, and disappeared from the chateau. + </p> + <p> + Three months after this, a cavalier, dusty and pale, rode into the + courtyard of Beaurepaire, and asked to see the baroness. She came to him; + he hung his head and held her out a letter. + </p> + <p> + It contained a few sad words from Monsieur de Laroche-jaquelin. The baron + had just fallen in La Vendee, fighting for the Crown. + </p> + <p> + From that hour till her death the baroness wore black. + </p> + <p> + The mourner would have been arrested, and perhaps beheaded, but for a + friend, the last in the world on whom the family reckoned for any solid + aid. Dr. Aubertin had lived in the chateau twenty years. He was a man of + science, and did not care a button for money; so he had retired from the + practice of medicine, and pursued his researches at ease under the baron’s + roof. They all loved him, and laughed at his occasional reveries, in the + days of prosperity; and now, in one great crisis, the protege became the + protector, to their astonishment and his own. But it was an age of ups and + downs. This amiable theorist was one of the oldest verbal republicans in + Europe. And why not? In theory a republic is the perfect form of + government: it is merely in practice that it is impossible; it is only + upon going off paper into reality, and trying actually to self-govern + limited nations, after heating them white hot with the fire of politics + and the bellows of bombast—that the thing resolves itself into + bloodshed silvered with moonshine. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin had for years talked and written speculative republicanism. + So they applied to him whether the baroness shared her husband’s opinions, + and he boldly assured them she did not; he added, “She is a pupil of + mine.” On this audacious statement they contented themselves with laying a + heavy fine on the lands of Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + Assignats were abundant, but good mercantile paper, a notorious coward, + had made itself wings and fled, and specie was creeping into strong boxes + like a startled rabbit into its hole. The fine was paid; but Beaurepaire + had to be heavily mortgaged, and the loan bore a high rate of interest. + This, with the baron’s previous mortgages, swamped the estate. + </p> + <p> + The baroness sold her carriage and horses, and she and her daughters + prepared to deny themselves all but the bare necessaries of life, and pay + off their debts if possible. On this their dependants fell away from them; + their fair-weather friends came no longer near them; and many a flush of + indignation crossed their brows, and many an aching pang their hearts, as + adversity revealed the baseness and inconstancy of common people high or + low. + </p> + <p> + When the other servants had retired with their wages, one Jacintha + remained behind, and begged permission to speak to the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “What would you with me, my child?” asked that lady, with an accent in + which a shade of surprise mingled with great politeness. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, madame,” began Jacintha, with a formal courtesy; “but how can + I leave you, and Mademoiselle Josephine, and Mademoiselle Rose? I was born + at Beaurepaire; my mother died in the chateau: my father died in the + village; but he had meat every day from the baron’s own table, and fuel + from the baron’s wood, and died blessing the house of Beaurepaire. I + CANNOT go. The others are gone because prosperity is here no longer. Let + it be so; I will stay till the sun shines again upon the chateau, and then + you shall send me away if you are bent on it; but not now, my ladies—oh, + not now! Oh! oh! oh!” And the warm-hearted girl burst out sobbing + ungracefully. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said the baroness, “these sentiments touch me, and honor you. + But retire, if you please, while I consult my daughters.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha cut her sobs dead short, and retreated with a formal reverence. + </p> + <p> + The consultation consisted of the baroness opening her arms, and both her + daughters embracing her at once. Proud as they were, they wept with joy at + having made one friend amongst all their servants. Jacintha stayed. + </p> + <p> + As months rolled on, Rose de Beaurepaire recovered her natural gayety in + spite of bereavement and poverty; so strong are youth, and health, and + temperament. But her elder sister had a grief all her own: Captain + Dujardin, a gallant young officer, well-born, and his own master, had + courted her with her parents’ consent; and, even when the baron began to + look coldly on the soldier of the Republic, young Dujardin, though too + proud to encounter the baron’s irony and looks of scorn, would not yield + love to pique. He came no more to the chateau, but he would wait hours and + hours on the path to the little oratory in the park, on the bare chance of + a passing word or even a kind look from Josephine. So much devotion + gradually won a heart which in happier times she had been half encouraged + to give him; and, when he left her on a military service of uncommon + danger, the woman’s reserve melted, and, in that moment of mutual grief + and passion, she vowed she loved him better than all the world. + </p> + <p> + Letters from the camp breathing a devotion little short of worship fed her + attachment; and more than one public mention of his name and services made + her proud as well as fond of the fiery young soldier. + </p> + <p> + Still she did not open her heart to her parents. The baron, alive at that + time, was exasperated against the Republic, and all who served it; and, as + for the baroness, she was of the old school: a passionate love in a lady’s + heart before marriage was contrary to her notions of etiquette. Josephine + loved Rose very tenderly; but shrank with modest delicacy from making her + a confidante of feelings, the bare relation of which leaves the female + hearer a child no longer. + </p> + <p> + So she hid her heart, and delicious first love nestled deep in her nature, + and thrilled in every secret vein and fibre. + </p> + <p> + They had parted two years, and he had joined the army of the Pyrenees + about one month, when suddenly all correspondence ceased on his part. + </p> + <p> + Restless anxiety rose into terror as this silence continued; and starting + and trembling at every sound, and edging to the window at every footstep, + Josephine expected hourly the tidings of her lover’s death. + </p> + <p> + Months rolled on in silence. + </p> + <p> + Then a new torture came. He must not be dead but unfaithful. At this all + the pride of her race was fired in her. + </p> + <p> + The struggle between love and ire was almost too much for nature: + violently gay and moody by turns she alarmed both her mother and the good + Dr. Aubertin. The latter was not, I think, quite without suspicion of the + truth; however, he simply prescribed change of air and place; she must go + to Frejus, a watering-place distant about five leagues. Mademoiselle de + Beaurepaire yielded a languid assent. To her all places were alike. + </p> + <p> + But when they returned from Frejus a change had taken place. Rose had + extracted her sister’s secret, and was a changed girl. Pity, and the keen + sense of Josephine’s wrong, had raised her sisterly love to a passion. The + great-hearted girl hovered about her lovely, suffering sister like an + angel, and paid her the tender attentions of a devoted lover, and hated + Camille Dujardin with all her heart: hated him all the more that she saw + Josephine shrink even from her whenever she inveighed against him. + </p> + <p> + At last Rose heard some news of the truant lover. The fact is, this young + lady was as intelligent as she was inexperienced; and she had asked + Jacintha to tell Dard to talk to every soldier that passed through the + village, and ask him if he knew anything about Captain Dujardin of the + 17th regiment. Dard cross-examined about a hundred invalided warriors, who + did not even recognize the captain’s name; but at last, by extraordinary + luck, he actually did fall in with two, who told him strange news about + Captain Dujardin. And so then Dard told Jacintha; and Jacintha soon had + the men into the kitchen and told Rose. Rose ran to tell Josephine; but + stopped in the passage, and turned suddenly very cold. Her courage failed + her; she feared Josephine would not take the news as she ought; and + perhaps would not love her so well if SHE told her; so she thought to + herself she would let the soldiers tell their own tale. She went into the + room where Josephine was reading to the baroness and Dr. Aubertin; she sat + quietly down; but at the first opportunity made Josephine one of those + imperceptible signals which women, and above all, sisters, have reduced to + so subtle a system. This done, she went carelessly out: and Josephine in + due course followed her, and found her at the door. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said Josephine, earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you courage?” was Rose’s reply. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead?” said Josephine, turning pale as ashes. + </p> + <p> + “No, no;” said Rose hastily; “he is alive. But you will need all your + courage.” + </p> + <p> + “Since he lives I fear nothing,” said Josephine; and stood there and + quivered from head to foot. Rose, with pitying looks, took her by the hand + and drew her in silence towards the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Josephine yielded a mute submission at first; but at the very door hung + back and faltered, “He loves another; he is married: let me go.” Rose made + no reply, but left her there and went into the kitchen and found two + dragoons seated round a bottle of wine. They rose and saluted her. + </p> + <p> + “Be seated, my brave men,” said she; “only please tell me what you told + Jacintha about Captain Dujardin.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t stain your mouth with the captain, my little lady. He is a + traitor.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Marcellus! mademoiselle asks us how we know Captain Dujardin to be a + traitor. Speak.” + </p> + <p> + Marcellus, thus appealed to, told Rose after his own fashion that he knew + the captain well: that one day the captain rode out of the camp and never + returned: that at first great anxiety was felt on his behalf, for the + captain was a great favorite, and passed for the smartest soldier in the + division: that after awhile anxiety gave place to some very awkward + suspicions, and these suspicions it was his lot and his comrade’s here to + confirm. About a month later he and the said comrade and two more were + sent, well mounted, to reconnoitre a Spanish village. At the door of a + little inn they caught sight of a French uniform. This so excited their + curiosity that he went forward nearer than prudent, and distinctly + recognized Captain Dujardin seated at a table drinking between two + guerillas; then he rode back and told the others, who then came up and + satisfied themselves it was so: that if any of the party had entertained a + doubt, it was removed in an unpleasant way; he, Marcellus, disgusted at + the sight of a French uniform drinking among Spaniards, took down his + carabine and fired at the group as carefully as a somewhat restive horse + permitted: at this, as if by magic, a score or so of guerillas poured out + from Heaven knows where, musket in hand, and delivered a volley; the + officer in command of the party fell dead, Jean Jacques here got a broken + arm, and his own horse was wounded in two places, and fell from loss of + blood a few furlongs from the French camp, to the neighborhood of which + the vagabonds pursued them, hallooing and shouting and firing like + barbarous banditti as they were. + </p> + <p> + “However, here I am,” concluded Marcellus, “invalided for awhile, my lady, + but not expended yet: we will soon dash in among them again for death or + glory. Meantime,” concluded he, filling both glasses, “let us drink to the + eyes of beauty (military salute); and to the renown of France; and double + damnation to all her traitors, like that Captain Dujardin; whose neck may + the devil twist.” + </p> + <p> + Ere they could drink to this energetic toast, a low wail at the door, like + a dying hare’s, arrested the glasses on their road, and the rough soldiers + stood transfixed, and looked at one another in some dismay. Rose flew to + the door with a face full of concern. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was gone. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose had the tact and resolution to say a few kind, encouraging words + to the soldiers, and bid Jacintha be hospitable to them. This done she + darted up-stairs after Josephine; she reached the main corridor just in + time to see her creep along it with the air and carriage of a woman of + fifty, and enter her own room. + </p> + <p> + Rose followed softly with wet eyes, and turned the handle gently. But the + door was locked. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine! Josephine!” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “I want to speak to you. I am frightened. Oh, do not be alone.” + </p> + <p> + A choking voice answered, “Give me a little while to draw my breath.” Rose + sank down at the door, and sat close to it, with her head against it, + sobbing bitterly. She was hurt at not being let in; such a friend as she + had proved herself. But this personal feeling was only a fraction of her + grief and anxiety. + </p> + <p> + A good half hour elapsed ere Josephine, pale and stern as no one had ever + seen her till that hour, suddenly opened the door. She started at sight of + Rose couched sorrowful on the threshold; her stern look relaxed into + tender love and pity; she sank, blushing, on her knees, and took her + sister’s head quickly to her bosom. “Oh, my little love, have you been + here all this time?”—“Oh! oh! oh!” was all the little love could + reply. Then the deserted one, still kneeling, took Rose in her lap, and + caressed and comforted her, and poured words of gratitude and affection + over her like a warm shower. + </p> + <p> + They rose hand in hand. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose suddenly seized Josephine, and looked long and anxiously down + into her eyes. They flashed fire under the scrutiny. “Yes, it is all over; + I could not despise and love. I am dead to him, as he is dead to France.” + </p> + <p> + This was joyful news to Rose. “I hoped it would be so,” said she; “but you + frightened me. My noble sister, were I ever to lose your esteem, I should + die. Oh, how awful yet how beautiful is your scorn. For worlds I would not + be that Cam”—Josephine laid her hand imperiously on Rose’s mouth. + “To mention his name to me will be to insult me; De Beaurepaire I am, and + a Frenchwoman. Come, dear, let us go down and comfort our mother.” + </p> + <p> + They went down; and this patient sufferer, and high minded conqueror, of + her own accord took up a commonplace book, and read aloud for two mortal + hours to her mother and Aubertin. Her voice only wavered twice. + </p> + <p> + To feel that life is ended; to wish existence, too, had ceased; and so to + sit down, an aching hollow, and take a part and sham an interest in + twaddle to please others; such are woman’s feats. How like nothing at all + they look! + </p> + <p> + A man would rather sit on the buffer of a steam-engine and ride at the + Great Redan. + </p> + <p> + Rose sat at her elbow, a little behind her, and turned the leaves, and on + one pretence or other held Josephine’s hand nearly all the rest of the + day. Its delicate fibres remained tense, like a greyhound’s sinews after a + race, and the blue veins rose to sight in it, though her voice and eyes + were mastered. + </p> + <p> + So keen was the strife, so matched the antagonists, so hard the victory. + </p> + <p> + For ire and scorn are mighty. And noble blood in a noble heart is heroic. + And Love is a giant. + </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 French provinces were now organized upon a half military plan, by + which all the local authorities radiated towards a centre of government. + By-the-by, this feature has survived subsequent revolutions and political + changes. + </p> + <p> + In days of change, youth is at a premium; because, though experience is + valuable, the experience of one order of things unfits ordinary men for + another order of things. So a good many old fogies in office were shown + the door, and a good deal of youth and energy infused into the veins of + provincial government. For instance, Edouard Riviere, who had but just + completed his education with singular eclat at a military school, was one + fine day ordered into Brittany to fill a responsible post under Commandant + Raynal, a blunt, rough soldier, that had risen from the ranks, and bore a + much higher character for zeal and moral integrity than for affability. + </p> + <p> + This officer was the son of a widow that kept a grocer’s shop in Paris. + She intended him for spice, but he thirsted for glory, and vexed her. So + she yielded, as mothers will. + </p> + <p> + In the armies of the republic a good soldier rose with unparalleled + certainty, and rapidity, too; for when soldiers are being mowed down like + oats, it is a glorious time for such of them as keep their feet. Raynal + mounted fast, and used to write to his mother, and joke her about the army + being such a bad profession; and, as he was all for glory, not money, he + lived with Spartan frugality, and saved half his pay and all his prize + money for the old lady in Paris. + </p> + <p> + But this prosperous man had to endure a deep disappointment; on the very + day he was made commandant and one of the general’s aides-de-camp, came a + letter into the camp. His mother was dead after a short illness. This was + a terrible blow to the simple, rugged soldier, who had never had much time + nor inclination to flirt with a lot of girls, and toughen his heart. He + came back to Paris honored and rich, but downcast. The old home, empty of + his mother, seemed to him not to have the old look. It made him sadder. To + cheer him up they brought him much money. The widow’s trade had taken a + wonderful start the last few years, and she had been playing the same game + as he had, living on ten-pence a day, and saving all for him. This made + him sadder, if anything. + </p> + <p> + “What,” said he, “have we both been scraping all this dross together for? + I would give it all to sit one hour by the fire, with her hand in mine, + and hear her say, ‘Scamp, you made me unhappy when you were young, but I + have lived to be proud of you.’” + </p> + <p> + He applied for active service, no matter what: obtained at once this post + in Brittany, and threw himself into it with that honest zeal and activity, + which are the best earthly medicine for all our griefs. He was busy + writing, when young Riviere first presented himself. He looked up for a + moment, and eyed him, to take his measure; then put into his hand a report + by young Nicole, a subordinate filling a post of the same nature as + Riviere’s; and bade him analyze that report on the spot: with this he + instantly resumed his own work. + </p> + <p> + Edouard Riviere was an adept at this sort of task, and soon handed him a + neat analysis. Raynal ran his eye over it, nodded cold approval, and told + him to take this for the present as a guide as to his own duties. He then + pointed to a map on which Riviere’s district was marked in blue ink, and + bade him find the centre of it. Edouard took a pair of compasses off the + table, and soon discovered that the village of Beaurepaire was his centre. + “Then quarter yourself at Beaurepaire; and good-day,” said Raynal. + </p> + <p> + The chateau was in sight from Riviere’s quarters, and he soon learned that + it belonged to a royalist widow and her daughters, who all three held + themselves quite aloof from the rest of the world. “Ah,” said the young + citizen, “I see. If these rococo citizens play that game with me, I shall + have to take them down.” Thus a fresh peril menaced this family, on whose + hearts and fortunes such heavy blows had fallen. + </p> + <p> + One evening our young official, after a day spent in the service of the + country, deigned to take a little stroll to relieve the cares of + administration. He imprinted on his beardless face the expression of a + wearied statesman, and strolled through an admiring village. The men + pretended veneration from policy; the women, whose views of this great man + were shallower but more sincere, smiled approval of his airs; and the + young puppy affected to take no notice of either sex. + </p> + <p> + Outside the village, Publicola suddenly encountered two young ladies, who + resembled nothing he had hitherto met with in his district; they were + dressed in black, and with extreme simplicity; but their easy grace and + composure, and the refined sentiment of their gentle faces, told at a + glance they belonged to the high nobility. Publicola divined them at once, + and involuntarily raised his hat to so much beauty and dignity, instead of + poking it with a finger as usual. On this the ladies instantly courtesied + to him after the manner of their party, with a sweep and a majesty, and a + precision of politeness, that the pup would have laughed at if he had + heard of it; but seeing it done, and well done, and by lovely women of + rank, he was taken aback by it, and lifted his hat again, and bowed again + after he had gone by, and was generally flustered. In short, instead of a + member of the Consular Government saluting private individuals of a + decayed party that existed only by sufferance, a handsome, vain, + good-natured boy had met two self-possessed young ladies of distinction + and breeding, and had cut the usual figure. + </p> + <p> + For the next hundred yards his cheeks burned and his vanity cooled. But + bumptiousness is elastic in France, as in England, and doubtless among the + Esquimaux. “Well, they are pretty girls,” says he to himself. “I never saw + two such pretty girls together; they will do for me to flirt with while I + am banished to this Arcadia.” Banished from school, I beg to observe. + </p> + <p> + And “awful beauty” being no longer in sight, Mr. Edouard resolved he would + flirt with them to their hearts’ content. But there are ladies with whom a + certain preliminary is required before you can flirt with them. You must + be on speaking terms. How was this to be managed? + </p> + <p> + He used to watch at his window with a telescope, and whenever the sisters + came out of their own grounds, which unfortunately was not above twice a + week, he would throw himself in their way by the merest accident, and pay + them a dignified and courteous salute, which he had carefully got up + before a mirror in the privacy of his own chamber. + </p> + <p> + One day, as he took off his hat to the young ladies, there broke from one + of them a smile, so sudden, sweet, and vivid, that he seemed to feel it + smite him first on the eyes then in the heart. He could not sleep for this + smile. + </p> + <p> + Yet he had seen many smilers; but to be sure most of them smiled without + effect, because they smiled eternally; they seemed cast with their mouths + open, and their pretty teeth forever in sight; and this has a saddening + influence on a man of sense—when it has any. But here a fair, + pensive face had brightened at sight of him; a lovely countenance, on + which circumstances, not nature, had impressed gravity, had sprung back to + its natural gayety for a moment, and had thrilled and bewitched the + beholder. + </p> + <p> + The next Sunday he went to church—and there worshipped—whom? + Cupid. He smarted for his heathenism; for the young ladies went with + higher motives, and took no notice of him. They lowered their long silken + lashes over one breviary, and scarcely observed the handsome citizen. + Meantime he, contemplating their pious beauty with earthly eyes, was + drinking long draughts of intoxicating passion. And when after the service + they each took an arm of Dr. Aubertin, and he with the air of an admiral + convoying two ships choke-full of specie, conducted his precious charge + away home, our young citizen felt jealous, and all but hated the worthy + doctor. + </p> + <p> + This went on till he became listless and dejected on the days he did not + see them. Then he asked himself whether he was not a cowardly fool to keep + at such a distance. After all he was a man in authority. His friendship + was not to be despised, least of all by a family suspected of disaffection + to the state. + </p> + <p> + He put on his glossy beaver with enormous brim, high curved; his blue coat + with brass buttons; his white waistcoat, gray breeches, and top-boots; and + marched up to the chateau of Beaurepaire, and sent in his card with his + name and office inscribed. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha took it, bestowed a glance of undisguised admiration on the young + Adonis, and carried it to the baroness. That lady sent her promptly down + again with a black-edged note to this effect. + </p> + <p> + Highly flattered by Monsieur de Riviere’s visit, the baroness must inform + him that she receives none but old acquaintances, in the present grief of + the family, and of the KINGDOM. + </p> + <p> + Young Riviere was cruelly mortified by this rebuff. He went off hurriedly, + grinding his teeth with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Cursed aristocrats! We have done well to pull you down, and we will have + you lower still. How I despise myself for giving any one the chance to + affront me thus. The haughty old fool; if she had known her interest, she + would have been too glad to make a powerful friend. These royalists are in + a ticklish position; I can tell her that. She calls me De Riviere; that + implies nobody without a ‘De’ to their name would have the presumption to + visit her old tumble-down house. Well, it is a lesson; I am a republican, + and the Commonwealth trusts and honors me; yet I am so ungrateful as to go + out of the way to be civil to her enemies, to royalists; as if those + worn-out creatures had hearts, as if they could comprehend the struggle + that took place in my mind between duty, and generosity to the fallen, + before I could make the first overture to their acquaintance; as if they + could understand the politeness of the heart, or anything nobler than + curving and ducking and heartless etiquette. This is the last notice I + will ever take of that old woman, unless it is to denounce her.” + </p> + <p> + He walked home to the town very fast, his heart boiling, and his lips + compressed, and his brow knitted. + </p> + <p> + To this mood succeeded a sullen and bitter one. He was generous, but vain, + and his love had humiliated him so bitterly, he resolved to tear it out of + his heart. He absented himself from church; he met the young ladies no + more. He struggled fiercely with his passion; he went about dogged, + silent, and sighing. Presently he devoted his leisure hours to shooting + partridges instead of ladies. And he was right; partridges cannot shoot + back; whereas beautiful women, like Cupid, are all archers more or less, + and often with one arrow from eye or lip do more execution than they have + suffered from several discharges of our small shot. + </p> + <p> + In these excursions, Edouard was generally accompanied by a thick-set + rustic called Dard, who, I believe, purposes to reveal his own character + to you, and so save me that trouble. + </p> + <p> + One fine afternoon, about four o’clock, this pair burst remorselessly + through a fence, and landed in the road opposite Bigot’s Auberge; a long + low house, with “ICI ON LOGE A PIED ET A CHEVAL,” written all across it in + gigantic letters. Riviere was for moving homeward, but Dard halted and + complained dismally of “the soldier’s gripes.” The statesman had never + heard of that complaint, so Dard explained that the VULGAR name for it was + hunger. “And only smell,” said he, “the soup is just fit to come off the + fire.” + </p> + <p> + Riviere smiled sadly, but consented to deign to eat a morsel in the porch. + Thereat Dard dashed wildly into the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + They dined at one little round table, each after his fashion. When Dard + could eat no more, he proceeded to drink; and to talk in proportion. + Riviere, lost in his own thoughts, attended to him as men of business do + to a babbling brook; until suddenly from the mass of twaddle broke forth a + magic word—Beaurepaire; then the languid lover pricked up his ears + and found Mr. Dard was abusing that noble family right and left. Young + Riviere inquired what ground of offence they had given HIM. “I’ll tell + you,” said Dard; “they impose on Jacintha; and so she imposes on me.” Then + observing he had at last gained his employer’s ear, he became prodigiously + loquacious, as such people generally are when once they get upon their own + griefs. + </p> + <p> + “These Beaurepaire aristocrats,” said he, with his hard peasant + good-sense, “are neither the one thing nor the other; they cannot keep up + nobility, they have not the means; they will not come down off their + perch, they have not the sense. No, for as small as they are, they must + look and talk as big as ever. They can only afford one servant, and I + don’t believe they pay her; but they must be attended on just as + obsequious as when they had a dozen. And this is fatal to all us little + people that have the misfortune to be connected with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how are you connected with them?” + </p> + <p> + “By the tie of affection.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you hated them.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do; but I have the ill-luck to love Jacintha, and she loves + these aristocrats, and makes me do little odd jobs for them.” And at this + Dard’s eyes suddenly glared with horror. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of that?” asked Riviere. + </p> + <p> + “What of it, citizen, what? you do not know the fatal meaning of those + accursed words?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I never heard of a man’s back being broken by little odd jobs.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not his back, citizen, but his heart? if little odd jobs will not + break that, why nothing will. Torn from place to place, and from trouble + to trouble; as soon as one tiresome thing begins to go a bit smooth, off + to a fresh plague, in-doors work when it is dry, out-a-doors when it + snows; and then all bustle; no taking one’s work quietly, the only way it + agrees with a fellow. ‘Milk the cow, Dard, but look sharp; the baroness’s + chair wants mending. Take these slops to the pig, but you must not wait to + see him enjoy them: you are wanted to chop billets.’ Beat the mats, take + down the curtains, walk to church (best part of a league), and heat the + pew cushions; come back and cut the cabbages, paint the door, and wheel + the old lady about the terrace, rub quicksilver on the little dog’s back,—mind + he don’t bite you to make hisself sick,—repair the ottoman, roll the + gravel, scour the kettles, carry half a ton of water up two purostairs, + trim the turf, prune the vine, drag the fish-pond; and when you ARE there, + go in and gather water lilies for Mademoiselle Josephine while you are + drowning the puppies; that is little odd jobs: may Satan twist her neck + who invented them!” + </p> + <p> + “Very sad all this,” said young Riviere. + </p> + <p> + Dard took the little sneer for sympathy, and proceeded to “the cruellest + wrong of all.” + </p> + <p> + “When I go into their kitchen to court Jacintha a bit, instead of finding + a good supper there, which a man has a right to, courting a cook, if I + don’t take one in my pocket, there is no supper, not to say supper, for + either her or me. I don’t call a salad and a bit of cheese-rind—SUPPER. + Beggars in silk and satin! Every sou they have goes on to their backs, + instead of into their bellies.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard their income is much reduced,” said Edouard gently. + </p> + <p> + “Income! I would not change with them if they’d throw me in half a pancake + a day. I tell you they are the poorest family for leagues round; not that + they need be quite so starved, if they could swallow a little of their + pride. But no, they must have china and plate and fine linen at dinner; so + their fine plates are always bare, and their silver trays empty. Ask the + butcher, if you don’t believe ME. Just you ask him whether he does not go + three times to the smallest shopkeeper, for once he goes to Beaurepaire. + Their tenants send them a little meal and eggs, and now and then a hen; + and their great garden is chock full of fruit and vegetables, and Jacintha + makes me dig in it gratis; and so they muddle on. But, bless your heart, + coffee! they can’t afford it; so they roast a lot of horse-beans that cost + nothing, and grind them, and serve up the liquor in a silver coffee-pot, + on a silver salver. Haw, haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible? reduced to this?” said Edouard gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you be so weak as to pity them,” cried the remorseless plebeian. + “Why don’t they melt their silver into soup, and cut down their plate into + rashers of bacon? why not sell the superfluous, and buy the needful, which + it is grub? And, above all, why don’t they let their old tumble-down + palace to some rich grocer, and that accursed garden along with it, where + I sweat gratis, and live small and comfortable, and pay honest men for + their little odd jobs, and”— + </p> + <p> + Here Riviere interrupted him, and asked if it was really true about the + beans. + </p> + <p> + “True?” said Dard, “why, I have seen Rose doing it for the old woman’s + breakfast: it was Rose invented the move. A girl of nineteen beginning + already to deceive the world! But they are all tarred with the same stick. + Down with the aristocrats!” + </p> + <p> + “Dard,” said Riviere, “you are a brute.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, citizen?” inquired Dard with every appearance of genuine surprise. + </p> + <p> + Edouard Riviere rose from his seat in great excitement. Dard’s abuse of + the family he was lately so bitter against had turned him right round. He + pitied the very baroness herself, and forgave her declining his visit. + </p> + <p> + “Be silent,” said he, “for shame! There is such a thing as noble poverty; + and you have described it. I might have disdained these people in their + prosperity, but I revere them in their affliction. And I’ll tell you what, + don’t you ever dare to speak slightly of them again in my presence, or”— + </p> + <p> + He did not conclude his threat, for just then he observed that a strapping + girl, with a basket at her feet, was standing against the corner of the + Auberge, in a mighty careless attitude, but doing nothing, so most likely + listening with all her ears and soul. Dard, however, did not see her, his + back being turned to her as he sat; so he replied at his ease,— + </p> + <p> + “I consent,” said he very coolly: “that is your affair; but permit me,” + and here he clenched his teeth at remembrance of his wrongs, “to say that + I will no more be a scullery man without wages to these high-minded + starvelings, these illustrious beggars.” Then he heated himself red-hot. + “I will not even be their galley slave. Next, I have done my last little + odd job in this world,” yelled the now infuriated factotum, bouncing up to + his feet in brief fury. “Of two things one: either Jacintha quits those + aristos, or I leave Jacin—eh?—ah!—oh!—ahem! How—‘ow + d’ye do, Jacintha?” And his roar ended in a whine, as when a dog runs + barking out, and receives in full career a cut from his master’s whip, his + generous rage turns to whimper with ludicrous abruptness. “I was just + talking of you, Jacintha,” quavered Dard in conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “I heard you, Dard,” replied Jacintha slowly, softly, grimly. + </p> + <p> + Dard withered. + </p> + <p> + It was a lusty young woman, with a comely peasant face somewhat freckled, + and a pair of large black eyes surmounted by coal-black brows. She stood + in a bold attitude, her massive but well-formed arms folded so that the + pressure of each against the other made them seem gigantic, and her cheek + red with anger, and her eyes glistening like basilisks upon citizen Dard. + She looked so grand, with her lowering black brows, that even Riviere felt + a little uneasy. As for Jacintha, she was evidently brooding with more ire + than she chose to utter before a stranger. She just slowly unclasped her + arms, and, keeping her eye fixed on Dard, pointed with a domineering + gesture towards Beaurepaire. Then the doughty Dard seemed no longer master + of his limbs: he rose slowly, with his eyes fastened to hers, and was + moving off like an ill-oiled automaton in the direction indicated; but at + that a suppressed snigger began to shake Riviere’s whole body till it + bobbed up and down on the seat. Dard turned to him for sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “There, citizen,” he cried, “do you see that imperious gesture? That means + you promised to dig in the aristocrat’s garden this afternoon, so march! + Here, then, is one that has gained nothing by kings being put down, for I + am ruled with a mopstick of iron. Thank your stars, citizen, that you are + not in may place.” + </p> + <p> + “Dard,” retorted Jacintha, “if you don’t like your place, I’d quit it. + There are two or three young men down in the village will be glad to take + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t give them the chance, the vile egotists!” cried Dard. And he + returned to the chateau and little odd jobs. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha hung behind, lowered her eyes, put on a very deferential manner, + and thanked Edouard for the kind sentiments he had uttered; but at the + same time she took the liberty to warn him against believing the + extravagant stories Dard had been telling about her mistress’s poverty. + She said the simple fact was that the baron had contracted debts, and the + baroness, being the soul of honor, was living in great economy to pay them + off. Then, as to Dard getting no supper up at Beaurepaire, a complaint + that appeared to sting her particularly, she assured him she was alone to + blame: the baroness would be very angry if she knew it. “But,” said she, + “Dard is an egotist. Perhaps you may have noticed that trait in him.” + </p> + <p> + “Glimpses of it,” replied Riviere, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, he is so egotistic that he has not a friend in the world but + me. I forgive him, because I know the reason; he has never had a headache + or a heartache in his life.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard, aged twenty, and a male, did not comprehend this piece of + feminine logic one bit: and, while he puzzled over it in silence, Jacintha + went on to say that if she were to fill her egotist’s paunch, she should + never know whether he came to Beaurepaire for her, or himself. “Now, + Dard,” she added, “is no beauty, monsieur; why, he is three inches shorter + than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “You are joking! he looks a foot,” said Edouard. + </p> + <p> + “He is no scholar neither, and I have had to wipe up many a sneer and many + a sarcasm on his account; but up to now I have always been able to reply + that this five feet one of egotism loves me sincerely; and the moment I + doubt this, I give him the sack,—poor little fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “In a word,” said Riviere, a little impatiently, “the family at + Beaurepaire are not in such straits as he pretends?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, do I look like one starved?” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, no! by Ceres, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Are my young mistresses wan, and thin?” + </p> + <p> + “Treason! blasphemy! ah, no! By Venus and Hebe, no!” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha smiled at this enthusiastic denial, and also because her sex is + apt to smile when words are used they do not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Dard is a fool,” suggested Riviere, by way of general solution. He added, + “And yet, do you know I wish every word he said had been true.” + (Jacintha’s eyes expressed some astonishment.) “Because then you and I + would have concerted means to do them kindnesses, secretly; for I see you + are no ordinary servant; you love your young mistresses. Do you not?” + </p> + <p> + These simple words seemed to touch a grander chord in Jacintha’s nature. + </p> + <p> + “Love them?” said she, clasping her hands; “ah, sir, do not be offended; + but, believe me, it is no small thing to serve an old, old family. My + grandfather lived and died with them; my father was their gamekeeper, and + fed to his last from off the poor baron’s plate (and now they have killed + him, poor man); my mother died in the house and was buried in the sacred + ground near the family chapel. They put an inscription on her tomb + praising her fidelity and probity. Do you think these things do not sink + into the heart of the poor?—praise on her tomb, and not a word on + their own, but just the name, and when each was born and died, you know. + Ah! the pride of the mean is dirt; but the pride of the noble is gold.” + </p> + <p> + “For, look you, among parvenues I should be a servant, and nothing more; + in this proud family I am a humble friend; of course they are not always + gossiping with me like vulgar masters and mistresses; if they did, I + should neither respect nor love them; but they all smile on me whenever I + come into the room, even the baroness herself. I belong to them, and they + belong to me, by ties without number, by the many kind words in many + troubles, by the one roof that sheltered us a hundred years, and the grave + where our bones lie together till the day of judgment.” * + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * The French peasant often thinks half a sentence, and + utters the other half aloud, and so breaks air in the middle + of a thought. Probably Jacintha’s whole thought, if we had + the means of knowing it, would have run like this—“Besides, + I have another reason: I could not be so comfortable myself + elsewhere—for, look you”— +</pre> + <p> + Jacintha clasped her hands, and her black eyes shone out warm through the + dew. Riviere’s glistened too. + </p> + <p> + “That is well said,” he cried; “it is nobly said: yet, after all, these + are ties that owe their force to the souls they bind. How often have such + bonds round human hearts proved ropes of sand! They grapple YOU like hooks + of steel; because you are steel yourself to the backbone. I admire you, + Jacintha. Such women as you have a great mission in France just now.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha shook her head incredulously. “What can we poor women do?” + </p> + <p> + “Bring forth heroes,” cried Publicola with fervor. “Be the mothers of + great men, the Catos and the Gracchi of the future!” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha smiled. She did not know the Gracchi nor their politics; but the + name rang well. “Gracchi!” Aristocrats, no doubt. “That would be too much + honor,” replied she modestly. “At present, I must say adieu!” and she + moved off an inch at a time, in an uncertain hesitating manner, not very + difficult to read; but Riviere, you must know, had more than once during + this interview begged her to sit down, and in vain; she had always thanked + him, but said she had not a moment to stay. So he made no effort to detain + her now. The consequence was—she came slowly back of her own accord, + and sat down in a corner of the porch, where nobody could see her, and + then she sighed deeply. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter now?” said Edouard, opening his eyes. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him point-blank for one moment; and her scale turned. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said she timidly, “you have a good face, and a good heart. All + I told you was—give me your honor not to betray us.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it,” said Edouard, a little pompously. + </p> + <p> + “Then—Dard was not so far from the truth; it was but a guess of his, + for I never trusted my own sweetheart as I now trust a stranger. But to + see what I see every day, and have no one I dare breathe a word to, oh, it + is very hard! But on what a thread things turn! If any one had told me an + hour ago it was you I should open my heart to! It’s not economy: it’s not + stinginess; they are not paying off their debts. They never can. The + baroness and the Demoiselles de Beaurepaire—are paupers.” + </p> + <p> + “Paupers, Jacintha?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, paupers! their debts are greater than their means. They live here by + sufferance. They have only their old clothes to wear. They have hardly + enough to eat. Just now our cow is in full milk, you know; so that is a + great help: but, when she goes dry, Heaven knows what we shall do; for I + don’t. But that is not the worst; better a light meal than a broken heart. + Your precious government offers the chateau for sale. They might as well + send for the guillotine at once, and cut off all our heads. You don’t know + my mistress as I do. Ah, butchers, you will drag nothing out of that but + her corpse. And is it come to this? the great old family to be turned + adrift like beggars. My poor mistress! my pretty demoiselles that I played + with and nursed ever since I was a child! (I was just six when Josephine + was born) and that I shall love with my last breath”— + </p> + <p> + She could say no more, but choked by the strong feeling so long pent up in + her own bosom, fell to sobbing hysterically, and trembling like one in an + ague. + </p> + <p> + The statesman, who had passed all his short life at school and college, + was frightened, and took hold of her and pulled her, and cried, “Oh! + don’t, Jacintha; you will kill yourself, you will die; this is frightful: + help here! help!” Jacintha put her hand to his mouth, and, without leaving + off her hysterics, gasped out, “Ah! don’t expose me.” So then he didn’t + know what to do; but he seized a tumbler and filled it with wine, and + forced it between her lips. All she did was to bite a piece out of the + glass as clean as if a diamond had cut it. This did her a world of good: + destruction of sacred household property gave her another turn. “There, + I’ve broke your glass now,” she cried, with a marvellous change of tone; + and she came-to and cried quietly like a reasonable person, with her apron + to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + When Edouard saw she was better, he took her hand and said proudly, + “Secret for secret. I choose this moment to confide to you that I love + Mademoiselle Rose de Beaurepaire. Love her? I did love her; but now you + tell me she is poor and in distress, I adore her.” The effect of this + declaration on Jacintha was magical, comical. Her apron came down from one + eye, and that eye dried itself and sparkled with curiosity: the whole + countenance speedily followed suit and beamed with sacred joy. What! an + interesting love affair confided to her all in a moment! She lowered her + voice to a whisper directly. “Why, how did you manage? She never goes into + company.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but she goes to church. Besides, I have met her eleven times out + walking with her sister, and twice out of the eleven she smiled on me. O + Jacintha! a smile such as angels smile; a smile to warm the heart and + purify the soul and last forever in the mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they say ‘man is fire and woman tow:’ but this beats all. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do not jest. I did not laugh at you. Jacintha, it is no laughing + matter; I revere her as mortals revere the saints; I love her so that were + I ever to lose all hope of her I would not live a day. And now that you + have told me she is poor and in sorrow, and I think of her walking so calm + and gentle—always in black, Jacintha,—and her low courtesy to + me whenever we met, and her sweet smile to me though her heart must be + sad, oh! my heart yearns for her. What can I do for her? How shall I + surround her with myself unseen—make her feel that a man’s love + waits upon her feet every step she takes—that a man’s love floats in + the air round that lovely head?” Then descending to earth for a moment, + “but I say, you promise not to betray me; come, secret for secret.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not tell a soul; on the honor of a woman,” said Jacintha. + </p> + <p> + The form of protestation was quite new to Edouard, and not exactly the one + his study of the ancient writers would have led him to select. But the + tone was convincing: he trusted her. They parted sworn allies; and, at the + very moment of parting, Jacintha, who had cast many a furtive glance at + the dead game, told Edouard demurely, Mademoiselle Rose was very fond of + roast partridge. On this he made her take the whole bag; and went home on + wings. Jacintha’s revelation roused all that was noble and forgiving in + him. His understanding and his heart expanded from that hour, and his + fancy spread its pinions to the sun of love. Ah! generous Youth, let who + will betray thee; let who will sneer at thee; let me, though young no + longer, smile on thee and joy in thee! She he loved was sad, was poor, was + menaced by many ills; then she needed a champion. He would be her unseen + friend, her guardian angel. A hundred wild schemes whirled in his beating + heart and brain. He could not go in-doors, indeed, no room could contain + him: he made for a green lane he knew at the back of the village, and + there he walked up and down for hours. The sun set, and the night came, + and the stars glittered; but still he walked alone, inspired, exalted, + full of generous and loving schemes: of sweet and tender fancies: a heart + on fire; and youth the fuel, and the flame vestal. + </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> + This very day was the anniversary of the baron’s death. + </p> + <p> + The baroness kept her room all the morning, and took no nourishment but + one cup of spurious coffee Rose brought her. Towards evening she came + down-stairs. In the hall she found two chaplets of flowers; they were + always placed there for her on this sad day. She took them in her hand, + and went into the little oratory that was in the park; there she found two + wax candles burning, and two fresh chaplets hung up. Her daughters had + been there before her. + </p> + <p> + She knelt and prayed many hours for her husband’s soul; then she rose and + hung up one chaplet and came slowly away with the other in her hand. At + the gate of the park, Josephine met her with tender anxiety in her + sapphire eyes, and wreathed her arms round her, and whispered, “But you + have your children still.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness kissed her and they came towards the house together, the + baroness leaning gently on her daughter’s elbow. + </p> + <p> + Between the park and the angle of the chateau was a small plot of turf + called at Beaurepaire the Pleasance, a name that had descended along with + other traditions; and in the centre of this Pleasance, or Pleasaunce, + stood a wonderful oak-tree. Its circumference was thirty-four feet. The + baroness came to this ancient tree, and hung her chaplet on a mutilated + limb called the “knights’ bough.” + </p> + <p> + The sun was setting tranquil and red; a broad ruby streak lingered on the + deep green leaves of the prodigious oak. The baroness looked at it awhile + in silence. + </p> + <p> + Then she spoke slowly to it and said, “You were here before us: you will + be here when we are gone.” + </p> + <p> + A spasm crossed Josephine’s face, but she said nothing at the time. And so + they went in together. + </p> + <p> + Now as this tree was a feat of nature, and, above all, played a curious + part in our story, I will ask you to stay a few minutes and look at it, + while I say what was known about it; not the thousandth part of what it + could have told, if trees could speak as well as breathe. + </p> + <p> + The baroness did not exaggerate; the tree was far older than even this + ancient family. They possessed among other archives a manuscript written + by a monk, a son of the house, about four hundred years before our story, + and containing many of the oral traditions about this tree that had come + down to him from remote antiquity. According to this authority, the first + Baron of Beaurepaire had pitched his tent under a fair oak-tree that stood + prope rivum, near a brook. His grandson built a square tower hard by, and + dug a moat that enclosed both tree and tower, and received the waters of + the brook aforesaid. + </p> + <p> + At this time the tree seems only to have been remarked for its height. + But, a century and a half before the monk wrote, it had become famous in + all the district for its girth, and in the monk’s own day had ceased to + grow; but not begun to decay. The mutilated arm I have mentioned was once + a long sturdy bough, worn smooth as velvet in one part from a curious + cause: it ran about as high above the ground as a full-sized horse, and + the knights and squires used to be forever vaulting upon it, the former in + armor; the monk, when a boy, had seen them do it a thousand times. This + bough broke in two, A.D. 1617: but the mutilated limb was still called the + knights’ bough, nobody knew why. So do names survive their ideas. + </p> + <p> + What had not this tree seen since first it came green and tender as a + cabbage above the soil, and stood at the mercy of the first hare or rabbit + that should choose to cut short its frail existence! + </p> + <p> + Since then eagles had perched on its crown, and wild boars fed without + fear of man upon its acorns. Troubadours had sung beneath it to lords and + ladies seated round, or walking on the grass and commenting the minstrel’s + tales of love by exchange of amorous glances. Mediaeval sculptors had + taken its leaves, and wisely trusting to nature, had adorned churches with + those leaves cut in stone. + </p> + <p> + It had seen a Norman duke conquer England, and English kings invade France + and be crowned at Paris. It had seen a girl put knights to the rout, and + seen the warrior virgin burned by envious priests with common consent both + of the curs she had defended and the curs she had defeated. + </p> + <p> + Why, in its old age it had seen the rise of printing, and the first dawn + of national civilization in Europe. It flourished and decayed in France; + but it sprung in Gaul. And more remarkable still, though by all accounts + it may see the world to an end, it was a tree in ancient history: its old + age awaits the millennium; its first youth belonged to that great tract of + time which includes the birth of Christ, the building of Rome, and the + siege of Troy. + </p> + <p> + The tree had, ere this, mingled in the fortunes of the family. It had + saved their lives and taken their lives. One lord of Beaurepaire, hotly + pursued by his feudal enemies, made for the tree, and hid himself partly + by a great bough, partly by the thick screen of leaves. The foe darted in, + made sure he had taken to the house, ransacked it, and got into the + cellar, where by good-luck was a store of Malvoisie: and so the oak and + the vine saved the quaking baron. Another lord of Beaurepaire, besieged in + his castle, was shot dead on the ramparts by a cross-bowman who had + secreted himself unobserved in this tree a little before the dawn. + </p> + <p> + A young heir of Beaurepaire, climbing for a raven’s nest to the top of + this tree, lost his footing and fell, and died at its foot: and his mother + in her anguish bade them cut down the tree that had killed her boy. But + the baron her husband refused, and spake in this wise: “ytte ys eneugh + that I lose mine sonne, I will nat alsoe lose mine Tre.” In the male you + see the sober sentiment of the proprietor outweighed the temporary + irritation of the parent. Then the mother bought fifteen ells of black + velvet, and stretched a pall from the knights’ bough across the west side + to another branch, and cursed the hand that should remove it, and she + herself “wolde never passe the Tre neither going nor coming, but went + still about.” And when she died and should have been carried past the tree + to the park, her dochter did cry from a window to the bearers, “Goe about! + goe about!” and they went about, and all the company. And in time the + velvet pall rotted, and was torn and driven away by the winds: and when + the hand of Nature, and no human hand, had thus flouted and dispersed the + trappings of the mother’s grief, two pieces were picked up and preserved + among the family relics: but the black velvet had turned a rusty red. + </p> + <p> + So the baroness did nothing new in this family when she hung her chaplet + on the knights’ bough; and, in fact, on the west side, about eighteen feet + from the ground, there still mouldered one corner of an Atchievement an + heir of Beaurepaire had nailed there two centuries before, when his + predecessor died: “For,” said he, “the chateau is of yesterday, but the + tree has seen us all come and go.” The inside of the oak was hollow as a + drum; and on its east side yawned a fissure as high as a man and as broad + as a street-door. Dard used to wheel his wheelbarrow into the tree at a + trot, and there leave it. + </p> + <p> + Yet in spite of excavation and mutilation not life only but vigor dwelt in + this wooden shell. The extreme ends of the longer boughs were firewood, + touchwood, and the crown was gone this many a year: but narrow the circle + a very little to where the indomitable trunk could still shoot sap from + its cruse deep in earth, and there on every side burst the green foliage + in its season countless as the sand. The leaves carved centuries ago from + these very models, though cut in stone, were most of them mouldered, + blunted, notched, deformed: but the delicate types came back with every + summer, perfect and lovely as when the tree was but their elder brother: + and greener than ever: for, from what cause nature only knows, the leaves + were many shades richer than any other tree could show for a hundred miles + round; a deep green, fiery, yet soft; and then their multitude—the + staircases of foliage as you looked up the tree, and could scarce catch a + glimpse of the sky. An inverted abyss of color, a mound, a dome, of flake + emeralds that quivered in the golden air. + </p> + <p> + And now the sun sets; the green leaves are black; the moon rises: her cold + light shoots across one half that giant stem. + </p> + <p> + How solemn and calm stands the great round tower of living wood, half + ebony, half silver, with its mighty cloud above of flake jet leaves tipped + with frosty fire! + </p> + <p> + Now is the still hour to repeat in a whisper the words of the dame of + Beaurepaire, “You were here before us: you will be here when we are gone.” + </p> + <p> + We leave the hoary king of trees standing in the moonlight, calmly defying + time, and follow the creatures of a day; for, what they were, we are. + </p> + <p> + A spacious saloon panelled; dead but showy white picked out sparingly with + gold. Festoons of fruits and flowers finely carved in wood on some of the + panels. These also not smothered in gilding, but as it were gold speckled + here and there, like tongues of flame winding among insoluble snow. Ranged + against the walls were sofas and chairs covered with rich stuffs well + worn. And in one little distant corner of the long room a gray-haired + gentleman and two young ladies sat round a small plain table, on which + burned a solitary candle; and a little way apart in this candle’s twilight + an old lady sat in an easy-chair, thinking of the past, scarce daring to + inquire the future. Josephine and Rose were working: not fancy-work but + needle-work; Dr. Aubertin writing. Every now and then he put the one + candle nearer the girls. They raised no objection: only a few minutes + after a white hand would glide from one or other of them like a serpent, + and smoothly convey the light nearer to the doctor’s manuscript. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not supper-time?” he inquired. “I have an inward monitor; and I + think our dinner was more ethereal than usual.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Josephine, and looked uneasily towards her mother. “Wax is so + dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Wax?—ah!—pardon me:” and the doctor returned hastily to his + work. But Rose looked up and said, “I wonder Jacintha does not come; it is + certainly past the hour;” and she pried into the room as if she expected + to see Jacintha on the road. But she saw in fact very little of anything, + for the spacious room was impenetrable to her eye; midway from the candle + to the distant door its twilight deepened, and all became shapeless and + sombre. The prospect ended sharp and black, as in those out-o’-door + closets imagined and painted by a certain great painter, whose Nature + comes to a full stop as soon as he has no further commercial need of her, + instead of melting by fine expanse and exquisite gradation into genuine + distance, as nature does in Claude and in nature. To reverse the picture, + if you stood at the door you looked across forty feet of black, and the + little corner seemed on fire, and the fair heads about the candle shone + like the St. Cecilias and Madonnas in an antique stained-glass window. + </p> + <p> + At last the door opened, and another candle fired Jacintha’s comely + peasant face in the doorway. She put down her candle outside the door, and + started as crow flies for the other light. After glowing a moment in the + doorway she dived into the shadow and emerged into light again close to + the table with napkins on her arm. She removed the work-box reverentially, + the doctor’s manuscript unceremoniously, and proceeded to lay a cloth: in + which operation she looked at Rose a point-blank glance of admiration: + then she placed the napkins; and in this process she again cast a strange + look of interest upon Rose. The young lady noticed it this time, and + looked inquiringly at her in return, half expecting some communication; + but Jacintha lowered her eyes and bustled about the table. Then Rose spoke + to her with a sort of instinct of curiosity, on the chance of drawing her + out. + </p> + <p> + “Supper is late to-night, is it not, Jacintha?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle; I have had more cooking than usual,” and with this she + delivered another point-blank look as before, and dived into the palpable + obscure, and came to light in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Her return was anxiously expected; for, if the truth must be told, they + were very hungry. So rigorous was the economy in this decayed but + honorable house that the wax candles burned to-day in the oratory had + scrimped their dinner, unsubstantial as it was wont to be. Think of that, + you in fustian jackets who grumble after meat. The door opened, Jacintha + reappeared in the light of her candle a moment with a tray in both hands, + and, approaching, was lost to view; but a strange and fragrant smell + heralded her. All their eyes turned with curiosity towards the unwonted + odor, and Jacintha dawned with three roast partridges on a dish. + </p> + <p> + They were wonder-struck, and looked from the birds to her in mute + surprise, that was not diminished by a certain cynical indifference she + put on. She avoided their eyes, and forcibly excluded from her face + everything that could imply she did not serve up partridges to this family + every night of her life. + </p> + <p> + “The supper is served, madame,” said she, with a respectful courtesy and a + mechanical tone, and, plunging into the night, swam out at her own candle, + shut the door, and, unlocking her face that moment, burst out radiant, and + so to the kitchen, and, with a tear in her eye, set-to and polished all + the copper stewpans with a vigor and expedition unknown to the new-fangled + domestic. + </p> + <p> + “Partridges, mamma! What next?” + </p> + <p> + “Pheasants, I hope,” cried the doctor, gayly. “And after them hares; to + conclude with royal venison. Permit me, ladies.” And he set himself to + carve with zeal. + </p> + <p> + Now nature is nature, and two pair of violet eyes brightened and dwelt on + the fragrant and delicate food with demure desire; for all that, when + Aubertin offered Josephine a wing, she declined it. “No partridge?” cried + the savant, in utter amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day, dear friend; it is not a feast day to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! no; what was I thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not to be deprived,” put in Josephine, anxiously. “We will + not deny ourselves the pleasure of seeing you eat some.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” remonstrated Aubertin, “am I not one of you?” + </p> + <p> + The baroness had attended to every word of this. She rose from her chair, + and said quietly, “Both you and he and Rose will be so good as to let me + see you eat.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mamma,” remonstrated Josephine and Rose in one breath. + </p> + <p> + “Je le veux,” was the cold reply. + </p> + <p> + These were words the baroness uttered so seldom that they were little + likely to be disputed. + </p> + <p> + The doctor carved and helped the young ladies and himself. + </p> + <p> + When they had all eaten a little, a discussion was observed to be going on + between Rose and her sister. At last Aubertin caught these words, “It will + be in vain; even you have not influence enough for that, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” was the reply, and Rose put the wing of a partridge on a + plate and rose calmly from her chair. She took the plate and put it on a + little work-table by her mother’s side. The others pretended to be all + mouths, but they were all ears. The baroness looked in Rose’s face with an + air of wonder that was not very encouraging. Then, as Rose said nothing, + she raised her aristocratic hand with a courteous but decided gesture of + refusal. + </p> + <p> + Undaunted Rose laid her palm softly on the baroness’s shoulder, and said + to her as firmly as the baroness herself had just spoken,— + </p> + <p> + “Il le veut.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness was staggered. Then she looked with moist eyes at the fair + young face, then she reflected. At last she said, with an exquisite + mixture of politeness and affection, “It is his daughter who has told me + ‘Il le veut.’ I obey.” + </p> + <p> + Rose returning like a victorious knight from the lists, saucily exultant, + and with only one wet eyelash, was solemnly kissed and petted by Josephine + and the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Thus they loved one another in this great, old, falling house. Their + familiarity had no coarse side; a form, not of custom but affection, it + went hand-in-hand with courtesy by day and night. + </p> + <p> + The love of the daughters for their mother had all the tenderness, + subtlety, and unselfishness of womanly natures, together with a certain + characteristic of the female character. And whither that one defect led + them, and by what gradations, it may be worth the reader’s while to + observe. + </p> + <p> + The baroness retired to rest early; and she was no sooner gone than + Josephine leaned over to Rose, and told her what their mother had said to + the oak-tree. Rose heard this with anxiety; hitherto they had carefully + concealed from their mother that the government claimed the right of + selling the chateau to pay the creditors, etc.; and now both sisters + feared the old lady had discovered it somehow, or why that strange thing + she had said to the oak-tree? But Dr. Aubertin caught their remarks, and + laid down his immortal MS. on French insects, to express his hope that + they were putting a forced interpretation on the baroness’s words. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he, “she merely meant how short-lived are we all compared + with this ancient oak. I should be very sorry to adopt the other + interpretation; for if she knows she can at any moment be expelled from + Beaurepaire, it will be almost as bad for her as the calamity itself; + THAT, I think, would kill her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” said Rose, eagerly. “What is this house or that? Mamma will + still have her daughters’ love, go where she will.” + </p> + <p> + Aubertin replied, “It is idle to deceive ourselves; at her age men and + women hang to life by their habits; take her away from her chateau, from + the little oratory where she prays every day for the departed, from her + place in the sun on the south terrace, and from all the memories that + surround her here; she would soon pine, and die.” + </p> + <p> + Here the savant seeing a hobby-horse near, caught him and jumped on. He + launched into a treatise upon the vitality of human beings, and proved + that it is the mind which keeps the body of a man alive for so great a + length of time as fourscore years; for that he had in the earlier part of + his studies carefully dissected a multitude of animals,—frogs, + rabbits, dogs, men, horses, sheep, squirrels, foxes, cats, etc.,—and + discovered no peculiarity in man’s organs to account for his singular + longevity, except in the brain or organ of mind. Thence he went to the + longevity of men with contented minds, and the rapid decay of the + careworn. Finally he succeeded in convincing them the baroness was so + constituted, physically and mentally, that she would never move from + Beaurepaire except into her grave. However, having thus terrified them, he + proceeded to console them. “You have a friend,” said he, “a powerful + friend; and here in my pocket—somewhere—is a letter that + proves it.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was from Mr. Perrin the notary. It appeared by it that Dr. + Aubertin had reminded the said Perrin of his obligations to the late + baron, and entreated him to use all his influence to keep the estate in + this ancient family. + </p> + <p> + Perrin had replied at first in a few civil lines; but his present letter + was a long and friendly one. It made both the daughters of Beaurepaire + shudder at the peril they had so narrowly escaped. For by it they now + learned for the first time that one Jaques Bonard, a small farmer, to whom + they owed but five thousand francs, had gone to the mayor and insisted, as + he had a perfect right, on the estate being put up to public auction. This + had come to Perrin’s ears just in time, and he had instantly bought + Bonard’s debt, and stopped the auction; not, however, before the very + bills were printed; for which he, Perrin, had paid, and now forwarded the + receipt. He concluded by saying that the government agent was personally + inert, and would never move a step in the matter unless driven by a + creditor. + </p> + <p> + “But we have so many,” said Rose in dismay. “We are not safe a day.” + </p> + <p> + Aubertin assured her the danger was only in appearance. “Your large + creditors are men of property, and such men let their funds lie unless + compelled to move them. The small mortgagee, the petty miser, who has, + perhaps, no investment to watch but one small loan, about which he is as + anxious and as noisy as a hen with one chicken, he is the clamorous + creditor, the harsh little egoist, who for fear of risking a crown piece + would bring the Garden of Eden to the hammer. Now we are rid of that + little wretch, Bonard, and have Perrin on our side; so there is literally + nothing to fear.” + </p> + <p> + The sisters thanked him warmly, and Rose shared his hopes; and said so; + but Josephine was silent and thoughtful. Nothing more worth recording + passed that night. But the next day was the first of May, Josephine’s + birthday. + </p> + <p> + Now they always celebrated this day as well as they could; and used to + plant a tree, for one thing. Dard, well spurred by Jacintha, had got a + little acacia; and they were all out in the Pleasaunce to plant it. + Unhappily, they were a preposterous time making up their feminine minds + where to have it set; so Dard turned rusty and said the park was the best + place for it. There it could do no harm, stick it where you would. + </p> + <p> + “And who told you to put in your word?” inquired Jacintha. “You’re here to + dig the hole where mademoiselle chooses; not to argufy.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine whispered Rose, “I admire the energy of her character. Could she + be induced to order once for all where the poor thing is to be planted?” + </p> + <p> + “Then where WILL you have it, mademoiselle?” asked Dard, sulkily. + </p> + <p> + “Here, I think, Dard,” said Josephine sweetly. + </p> + <p> + Dard grinned malignantly, and drove in his spade. “It will never be much + bigger than a stinging nettle,” thought he, “for the roots of the oak have + sucked every atom of heart out of this.” His black soul exulted secretly. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha stood by Dard, inspecting his work; the sisters intertwined, a + few feet from him. The baroness turned aside, and went to look for a + moment at the chaplet she had placed yesterday on the oak-tree bough. + Presently she uttered a slight ejaculation; and her daughters looked up + directly. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, children,” said she. They glided to her in a moment; and found + her eyes fixed upon an object that lay on the knights’ bough. + </p> + <p> + It was a sparkling purse. + </p> + <p> + I dare say you have noticed that the bark on the boughs of these very + ancient trees is as deeply furrowed as the very stem of an oak tree that + boasts but a few centuries; and in one of these deep furrows lay a green + silk purse with gold coins glittering through the glossy meshes. + </p> + <p> + Josephine and Rose eyed it a moment like startled deer; then Rose pounced + on it. “Oh, how heavy!” she cried. This brought up Dard and Jacintha, in + time to see Rose pour ten shining gold pieces out of the purse into her + pink-white palm, while her face flushed and her eyes glittered with + excitement. Jacintha gave a scream of joy; “Our luck is turned,” she + cried, superstitiously. Meanwhile, Josephine had found a slip of paper + close to the purse. She opened it with nimble fingers; it contained one + line in a hand like that of a copying clerk: FROM A FRIEND: IN PART + PAYMENT OF A GREAT DEBT. + </p> + <p> + Keen, piquant curiosity now took the place of surprise. Who could it be? + The baroness’s suspicion fell at once on Dr. Aubertin. But Rose maintained + he had not ten gold pieces in the world. The baroness appealed to + Josephine. She only blushed in an extraordinary way, and said nothing. + They puzzled, and puzzled, and were as much in the dark as ever, when lo! + one of the suspected parties delivered himself into the hands of justice + with ludicrous simplicity. It happened to be Dr. Aubertin’s hour of + out-a-door study; and he came mooning along, buried in a book, and walked + slowly into the group—started, made a slight apology, and was + mooning off, lost in his book again. Then the baroness, who had eyed him + with grim suspicion all the time, said with well-affected nonchalance, + “Doctor, you dropped your purse; we have just picked it up.” And she + handed it to him. “Thank you, madame,” said he, and took it quietly + without looking at it, put it in his pocket, and retired, with his soul in + his book. They stared comically at one another, and at this cool hand. + “It’s no more his than it’s mine,” said Jacintha, bluntly. Rose darted + after the absorbed student, and took him captive. “Now, doctor,” she + cried, “be pleased to come out of the clouds.” And with the word she + whipped the purse out of his coat pocket, and holding it right up before + his eye, insisted on his telling her whether that was his purse or not, + money and all. Thus adjured, he disowned the property mighty coolly, for a + retired physician, who had just pocketed it. + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear,” said he; “and, now I think of it, I have not carried a + purse this twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness, as a last resource, appealed to his honor whether he had not + left a purse and paper on the knights’ bough. The question had to be + explained by Josephine, and then the doctor surprised them all by being + rather affronted—for once in his life. + </p> + <p> + “Baroness,” said he, “I have been your friend and pensioner nearly twenty + years; if by some strange chance money were to come into my hands, I + should not play you a childish trick like this. What! have I not the right + to come to you, and say, ‘My old friend, here I bring you back a very + small part of all I owe you?’” + </p> + <p> + “What geese we are,” remarked Rose. “Dear doctor, YOU tell us who it is.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin reflected a single moment; then said he could make a shrewd + guess. + </p> + <p> + “Who? who? who?” cried the whole party. + </p> + <p> + “Perrin the notary.” + </p> + <p> + It was the baroness’s turn to be surprised; for there was nothing romantic + about Perrin the notary. Aubertin, however, let her know that he was in + private communication with the said Perrin, and this was not the first + friendly act the good notary had done her in secret. + </p> + <p> + While he was converting the baroness to his view, Josephine and Rose + exchanged a signal, and slipped away round an angle of the chateau. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” said Rose. + </p> + <p> + “It is some one who has a delicate mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Clearly, and therefore not a notary.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose, dear, might it not be some person who has done us some wrong, and + is perhaps penitent?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; one of our tenants, or creditors, you mean; but then, the + paper says ‘a friend.’ Stay, it says a debtor. Why a debtor? Down with + enigmas!” + </p> + <p> + “Rose, love,” said Josephine, coaxingly, “think of some one that might—since + it is not the doctor, nor Monsieur Perrin, might it not be—for after + all, he would naturally be ashamed to appear before me.” + </p> + <p> + “Before you? Who do you mean?” asked Rose nervously, catching a glimpse + now. + </p> + <p> + “He who once pretended to love me.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine, you love that man still.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Spare me!” + </p> + <p> + “You love him just the same as ever. Oh, it is wonderful; it is terrible; + the power he has over you; over your judgment as well as your heart.” + </p> + <p> + “No! for I believe he has forgotten my very name; don’t you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Josephine, can you doubt it? Come, you do doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “But why? for what reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Because of what he said to me as we parted at that gate; the words and + the voice seem still to ring like truth across the weary years. He said, + ‘I am to join the army of the Pyrenees, so fatal to our troops; but say to + me what you never yet have said, Camille, I love you: and I swear I will + come back alive.’ So then I said to him, ‘I love you,’—and he never + came back.” + </p> + <p> + “How could he come here? a deserter, a traitor!” + </p> + <p> + “It is not true; it is not in his nature; inconstancy may be. Tell me that + he never really loved me, and I will believe you; but not that he is a + traitor. Let me weep over my past love, not blush for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Past? You love him to-day as you did three years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Josephine, “no; I love no one. I never shall love any one + again.” + </p> + <p> + “But him. It is that love which turns your heart against others. Oh, yes, + you love him, dearest, or why should you fancy our secret benefactor COULD + be that Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Because I was mad: because it is impossible; but I see my folly. I + am going in.” + </p> + <p> + “What! don’t you care to know who I think it was, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Josephine sadly and doggedly; she added with cold nonchalance, + “I dare say time will show.” And she went slowly in, her hand to her head. + </p> + <p> + “Her birthday!” sighed Rose. + </p> + <p> + The donor, whoever he was, little knew the pain he was inflicting on this + distressed but proud family, or the hard battle that ensued between their + necessities and their delicacy. The ten gold pieces were a perpetual + temptation: a daily conflict. The words that accompanied the donation + offered a bait. Their pride and dignity declined it; but these bright bits + of gold cost them many a sharp pang. You must know that Josephine and Rose + had worn out their mourning by this time; and were obliged to have + recourse to gayer materials that lay in their great wardrobes, and were + older, but less worn. A few of these gold pieces would have enabled the + poor girls to be neat, and yet to mourn their father openly. And it went + through and through those tender, simple hearts, to think that they must + be disunited, even in so small a thing as dress; that while their mother + remained in her weeds, they must seem no longer to share her woe. + </p> + <p> + The baroness knew their feeling, and felt its piety, and yet could not bow + her dignity to say, “Take five of these bits of gold, and let us all look + what we are—one.” Yet in this, as in everything else, they supported + each other. They resisted, they struggled, and with a wrench they + conquered day by day. At last, by general consent, Josephine locked up the + tempter, and they looked at it no more. But the little bit of paper met a + kinder fate. Rose made a little frame for it, and it was kept in a drawer, + in the salon: and often looked at and blessed. Just when they despaired of + human friendship, this paper with the sacred word “friend” written on it, + had fallen all in a moment on their aching hearts. + </p> + <p> + They could not tell whence it came, this blessed word. + </p> + <p> + But men dispute whence comes the dew? + </p> + <p> + Then let us go with the poets, who say it comes from heaven. + </p> + <p> + And even so that sweet word, friend, dropped like the dew from heaven on + these afflicted ones. + </p> + <p> + So they locked the potent gold away from themselves, and took the kind + slip of paper to their hearts. + </p> + <p> + The others left off guessing: Aubertin had it all his own way: he upheld + Perrin as their silent benefactor, and bade them all observe that the + worthy notary had never visited the chateau openly since the day the purse + was left there. “Guilty conscience,” said Aubertin dryly. + </p> + <p> + One day in his walks he met a gaunt figure ambling on a fat pony: he + stopped him, and, holding up his finger, said abruptly, “We have found you + out, Maitre Perrin.” + </p> + <p> + The notary changed color. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never be ashamed,” said Aubertin; “a good action done slyly is none + the less a good action.” + </p> + <p> + The notary wore a puzzled air. + </p> + <p> + Aubertin admired his histrionic powers in calling up this look. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, don’t overdo it,” said he. “Well, well; they cannot profit by + your liberality; but you will be rewarded in a better world, take my word + for that.” + </p> + <p> + The notary muttered indistinctly. He was a man of moderate desires; would + have been quite content if there had been no other world in perspective. + He had studied this one, and made it pay: did not desire a better; + sometimes feared a worse. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Aubertin, “I see how it is; we do not like to hear ourselves + praised, do we? When shall we see you at the chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “I propose to call on the baroness the moment I have good news to bring,” + replied Perrin; and to avoid any more compliments spurred the dun pony + suddenly; and he waddled away. + </p> + <p> + Now this Perrin was at that moment on the way to dine with a character who + plays a considerable part in the tale—Commandant Raynal. Perrin had + made himself useful to the commandant, and had become his legal adviser. + And, this very day after dinner, the commandant having done a good day’s + work permitted himself a little sentiment over the bottle, and to a man he + thought his friend. He let out that he had a heap of money he did not know + what to do with, and almost hated it now his mother was gone and could not + share it. + </p> + <p> + The man of law consoled him with oleaginous phrases: told him he very much + underrated the power of money. His hoard, directed by a judicious adviser, + would make him a landed proprietor, and the husband of some young lady, + all beauty, virtue, and accomplishment, whose soothing influence would + soon heal the sorrow caused by an excess of filial sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” shouted Raynal: “say that again in half the words.” + </p> + <p> + Perrin was nettled, for he prided himself on his colloquial style. + </p> + <p> + “You can buy a fine estate and a chaste wife with the money,” snapped this + smooth personage, substituting curt brutality for honeyed prolixity. + </p> + <p> + The soldier was struck by the propositions the moment they flew at him + small and solid, like bullets. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no time,” said he, “to be running after women. But the estate I’ll + certainly have, because you can get that for me without my troubling my + head.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a commission, then?” asked the other sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Do you think I speak for the sake of talking?” + </p> + <p> + And so Perrin received formal instructions to look out for a landed + estate; and he was to receive a handsome commission as agent. + </p> + <p> + Now to settle this affair, and pocket a handsome percentage for himself, + he had only to say “Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + Well, he didn’t. Never mentioned the place; nor the fact that it was for + sale. + </p> + <p> + Such are all our agents, when rival speculators. Mind that. Still it is a + terrible thing to be so completely in the power of any man of the world, + as from this hour Beaurepaire was in the power of Perrin the notary. + </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> + Edouard Riviere was unhappy. She never came out now. This alone made the + days dark to him. And then he began to fear it was him she shunned. She + must have seen him lie in wait for her; and so she would come out no more. + He prowled about and contrived to fall in with Jacintha; he told her his + grief. She assured him the simple fact was their mourning was worn out, + and they were ashamed to go abroad in colors. This revelation made his + heart yearn still more. + </p> + <p> + “O Jacintha,” said he, “if I could only make a beginning; but here we + might live a century in the same parish, and not one chance for a poor + wretch to make acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha admitted this, and said gentlefolks were to be pitied. “Why, if + it was the likes of me, you and I should have made friends long before + now.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha herself was puzzled what to do; she would have told Rose if she + had felt sure it would be well received; but she could not find out that + the young lady had even noticed the existence of Edouard. But her brain + worked, and lay in wait for an opportunity. + </p> + <p> + One came sooner than she expected. One morning at about six o’clock, as + she came home from milking the cow, she caught sight of young Riviere + trying to open the iron gate. “What is up now?” thought she; suddenly the + truth flashed upon her, clear as day. She put her pail down and stole upon + him. “You want to leave us another purse,” said she. He colored all over + and panted. + </p> + <p> + “How did you know? how could you know? you won’t betray me? you won’t be + so cruel? you promised.” + </p> + <p> + “Me betray you,” said Jacintha; “why, I’ll help you; and then they will be + able to buy mourning, you know, and then they will come out, and give you + a chance. You can’t open that gate, for it’s locked. But you come round to + the lane, and I’ll get you the key; it is hanging up in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + The key was in her pocket. But the sly jade wanted him away from that + gate; it commanded a view of the Pleasaunce. He was no sooner safe in the + lane, than she tore up-stairs to her young ladies, and asked them with + affected calm whether they would like to know who left the purse. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes!” screamed Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Then come with me. You ARE dressed; never mind your bonnets, or you will + be too late.” + </p> + <p> + Questions poured on her; but she waived all explanation, and did not give + them time to think, or Josephine, for one, she knew would raise + objections. She led the way to the Pleasaunce, and, when she got to the + ancestral oak, she said hurriedly, “Now, mesdemoiselles, hide in there, + and as still as mice. You’ll soon know who leaves the purses.” + </p> + <p> + With this she scudded to the lane, and gave Edouard the key. “Look sharp,” + said she, “before they get up; it’s almost their dressing time.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU’LL SOON KNOW WHO LEAVES THE PURSES!” + </p> + <p> + Curiosity, delicious curiosity, thrilled our two daughters of Eve. + </p> + <p> + This soon began to alternate with chill misgivings at the novelty of the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “She is not coming back,” said Josephine ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rose, “and suppose when we pounce out on him, it should be a + stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “Pounce on him? surely we are not to do that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, y-yes; that is the p-p-programme,” quavered Rose. + </p> + <p> + A key grated, and the iron gate creaked on its hinges. They ran together + and pinched one another for mutual support, but did not dare to speak. + </p> + <p> + Presently a man’s shadow came slap into the tree. They crouched and + quivered, and expected to be caught instead of catching, and wished + themselves safe back in bed, and all this a nightmare, and no worse. + </p> + <p> + At last they recovered themselves enough to observe that this shadow, one + half of which lay on the ground, while the head and shoulders went a + little way up the wall of the tree, represented a man’s profile, not his + front face. The figure, in short, was standing between them and the sun, + and was contemplating the chateau, not the tree. + </p> + <p> + The shadow took off its hat to Josephine, in the tree. Then would she have + screamed if she had not bitten her white hand instead, and made a red mark + thereon. + </p> + <p> + It wiped its brow with a handkerchief; it had walked fast, poor thing! The + next moment it was away. + </p> + <p> + They looked at one another and panted. They scarcely dared do it before. + Then Rose, with one hand on her heaving bosom, shook her little white fist + viciously at where the figure must be, and perhaps a comical desire of + vengeance stimulated her curiosity. She now glided through the fissure + like a cautious panther from her den; and noiseless and supple as a + serpent began to wind slowly round the tree. She soon came to a great + protuberance in the tree, and twining and peering round it with diamond + eye, she saw a very young, very handsome gentleman, stealing on tiptoe to + the nearest flower-bed. Then she saw him take a purse out of his bosom, + and drop it on the bed. This done, he came slowly past the tree again, and + was even heard to vent a little innocent chuckle of intense satisfaction: + but of brief duration; for, when Rose saw the purse leave his hand, she + made a rapid signal to Josephine to wheel round the other side of the + tree, and, starting together with admirable concert, both the daughters of + Beaurepaire glided into sight with a vast appearance of composure. + </p> + <p> + Two women together are really braver than fifteen separate; but still, + most of this tranquillity was merely put on, but so admirably that Edouard + Riviere had no chance with them. He knew nothing about their tremors; all + he saw or heard was, a rustle, then a flap on each side of him as of great + wings, and two lovely women were upon him with angelic swiftness. “Ah!” he + cried out with a start, and glanced from the first-comer, Rose, to the + gate. But Josephine was on that side by this time, and put up her hand, as + much as to say, “You can’t pass here.” In such situations, the mind works + quicker than lightning. He took off his hat, and stammered an excuse—“Come + to look at the oak.” At this moment Rose pounced on the purse, and held it + up to Josephine. He was caught. His only chance now was to bolt for the + mark and run; but it was not the notary, it was a novice who lost his + presence of mind, or perhaps thought it rude to run when a lady told him + to stand still. All he did was to crush his face into his two hands, round + which his cheeks and neck now blushed red as blood. Blush? they could both + see the color rush like a wave to the very roots of his hair and the tips + of his fingers. + </p> + <p> + The moment our heroines, who, in that desperation which is one of the + forms of cowardice, had hurled themselves on the foe, saw this, flash—the + quick-witted poltroons exchanged purple lightning over Edouard’s drooping + head, and enacted lionesses in a moment. + </p> + <p> + It was with the quiet composure of lofty and powerful natures that + Josephine opened on him. “Compose yourself, sir; and be so good as to tell + us who you are.” Edouard must answer. Now he could not speak through his + hands; and he could not face a brace of tranquil lionesses: so he took a + middle course, removed one hand, and shading himself from Josephine with + the other, he gasped out, “I am—my name is Riviere; and I—I—ladies!” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we frighten you,” said Josephine, demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be frightened,” said Rose, majestically; “we are not VERY angry, + only a LITTLE curious to know why you water our flowers with gold.” + </p> + <p> + At this point-blank thrust, and from her, Edouard was so confounded and + distressed, they both began to pity him. He stammered out that he was so + confused he did not know what to say. He couldn’t think how ever he could + have taken such a liberty; might he be permitted to retire? and with this + he tried to slip away. + </p> + <p> + “Let me detain you one instant,” said Josephine, and made for the house. + </p> + <p> + Left alone so suddenly with the culprit, the dignity, and majesty, and + valor of Rose seemed to ooze gently out; and she stood blushing, and had + not a word to say; no more had Edouard. But he hung his head, and she hung + her head. And, somehow or other, whenever she raised her eyes to glance at + him, he raised his to steal a look at her, and mutual discomfiture + resulted. + </p> + <p> + This awkward, embarrassing delirium was interrupted by Josephine’s return. + She now held another purse in her hand, and quietly poured the rest of the + coin into it. She then, with a blush, requested him to take back the + money. + </p> + <p> + At that he found his tongue. “No, no,” he cried, and put up his hands in + supplication. “Ladies, do let me speak ONE word to you. Do not reject my + friendship. You are alone in the world; your father is dead; your mother + has but you to lean on. After all, I am your neighbor, and neighbors + should be friends. And I am your debtor; I owe you more than you could + ever owe me; for ever since I came into this neighborhood I have been + happy. No man was ever so happy as I, ever since one day I was walking, + and met for the first time an angel. I don’t say it was you, Mademoiselle + Rose. It might be Mademoiselle Josephine.” + </p> + <p> + “How pat he has got our names,” said Rose, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “A look from that angel has made me so good, so happy. I used to vegetate, + but now I live. Live! I walk on wings, and tread on roses. Yet you insist + on declining a few miserable louis d’or from him who owes you so much. + Well, don’t be angry; I’ll take them back, and throw them into the nearest + pond, for they are really no use to me. But then you will be generous in + your turn. You will accept my devotion, my services. You have no brother, + you know; well, I have no sisters; let me be your brother, and your + servant forever.” + </p> + <p> + At all this, delivered in as many little earnest pants as there were + sentences, the water stood in the fair eyes he was looking into so + piteously. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was firm, but angelical. “We thank you, Monsieur Riviere,” said + she, softly, “for showing us that the world is still embellished with + hearts like yours. Here is the money;” and she held it out in her creamy + hand. + </p> + <p> + “But we are very grateful,” put in Rose, softly and earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “That we are,” said Josephine, “and we beg to keep the purse as a souvenir + of one who tried to do us a kindness without mortifying us. And now, + Monsieur Riviere, you will permit us to bid you adieu.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard was obliged to take the hint. “It is I who am the intruder,” said + he. “Mesdemoiselles, conceive, if you can, my pride and my + disappointment.” He then bowed low; they courtesied low to him in return; + and he retired slowly in a state of mixed feeling indescribable. + </p> + <p> + With all their sweetness and graciousness, he felt overpowered by their + high breeding, their reserve, and their composure, in a situation that had + set his heart beating itself nearly out of his bosom. He acted the scene + over again, only much more adroitly, and concocted speeches for past use, + and was very hot and very cold by turns. + </p> + <p> + I wish he could have heard what passed between the sisters as soon as ever + he was out of earshot. It would have opened his eyes, and given him a + little peep into what certain writers call “the sex.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy,” murmured Josephine, “he has gone away unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I dare say he hasn’t gone far,” replied Rose, gayly. “I shouldn’t if + I was a boy.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine held up her finger like an elder sister; then went on to say she + really hardly knew why she had dismissed him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dear,” said Rose, dryly, “since you admit so much, I must say I + couldn’t help thinking—while you were doing it—we were letting + ‘the poor boy’ off ridiculously cheap.” + </p> + <p> + “At least I did my duty?” suggested Josephine, inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “Magnificently; you overawed even me. So now to business, as the gentlemen + say. Which of us two takes him?” + </p> + <p> + “Takes whom?” inquired Josephine, opening her lovely eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Edouard,” murmured Rose, lowering hers. + </p> + <p> + Josephine glared on the lovely minx with wonder and comical horror. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you shall have him,” said Rose, “if you like. You are the eldest, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Fie!” + </p> + <p> + “Do now; TO OBLIGE ME.” + </p> + <p> + “For shame! Rose. Is this you? talking like that!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! there’s no compulsion, dear; I never force young ladies’ + inclinations. So you decline him?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I decline him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, oh, you dear, darling Josephine, this is the prettiest present you + ever made me,” and she kissed her vehemently. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was frightened now. She held Rose out at arm’s length with both + hands, and looked earnestly into her, and implored her not to play with + fire. “Take warning by me.” + </p> + <p> + Rose recommended her to keep her pity for Monsieur Riviere, “who had + fallen into nice hands,” she said. That no doubt might remain on that + head, she whispered mysteriously, but with much gravity and conviction, “I + am an Imp;” and aimed at Josephine with her forefinger to point the + remark. For one second she stood and watched this important statement sink + into her sister’s mind, then set-to and gambolled elfishly round her as + she moved stately and thoughtful across the grass to the chateau. + </p> + <p> + Two days after this a large tree was blown down in Beaurepaire park, and + made quite a gap in the prospect. You never know what a big thing a leafy + tree is till it comes down. And this ill wind blew Edouard good; for it + laid bare the chateau to his inquiring telescope. He had not gazed above + half an hour, when a female figure emerged from the chateau. His heart + beat. It was only Jacintha. He saw her look this way and that, and + presently Dard appeared, and she sent him with his axe to the fallen tree. + Edouard watched him hacking away at it. Presently his heart gave a violent + leap; for why? two ladies emerged from the Pleasaunce and walked across + the park. They came up to Dard, and stood looking at the tree and Dard + hacking it, and Edouard watched them greedily. You know we all love to + magnify her we love. And this was a delightful way of doing it. It is “a + system of espionage” that prevails under every form of government. How he + gazed, and gazed, on his now polar star; studied every turn, every + gesture, with eager delight, and tried to gather what she said, or at + least the nature of it. + </p> + <p> + But by and by they left Dard and strolled towards the other end of the + park. Then did our astronomer fling down his tube, and come running out in + hopes of intercepting them, and seeming to meet them by some strange + fortuity. Hope whispered he should be blessed with a smile; perhaps a word + even. So another minute and he was running up the road to Beaurepaire. But + his good heart was doomed to be diverted to a much humbler object than his + idol; as he came near the fallen tree he heard loud cries for help, + followed by groans of pain. He bounded over the hedge, and there was Dard + hanging over his axe, moaning. “What is the matter? what is the matter?” + cried Edouard, running to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! cut my foot. Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Edouard looked, and turned sick, for there was a gash right through Dard’s + shoe, and the blood welling up through it. But, recovering himself by an + effort of the will, he cried out, “Courage, my lad! don’t give in. Thank + Heaven there’s no artery there. Oh, dear, it is a terrible cut! Let us get + you home, that is the first thing. Can you walk?” + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless you, no! nor stand neither without help.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard flew to the wheelbarrow, and, reversing it, spun a lot of billet + out. “Ye must not do that,” said Dard with all the energy he was capable + of in his present condition. “Why, that is Jacintha’s wood.”—“To the + devil with Jacintha and her wood too!” cried Edouard, “a man is worth more + than a fagot. Come, I shall wheel you home: it is only just across the + park.” + </p> + <p> + With some difficulty he lifted him into the barrow. Luckily he had his + shooting-jacket on with a brandy-flask in it: he administered it with + excellent effect. + </p> + <p> + The ladies, as they walked, saw a man wheeling a barrow across the park, + and took no particular notice; but, as Riviere was making for the same + point they were, though at another angle, presently the barrow came near + enough for them to see Dard’s head and arms in it. Rose was the first to + notice this. “Look! look! if he is not wheeling Dard in the barrow now.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you ask? Who provides all our excitement?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine instantly divined there was something amiss. “Consider,” said + she, “Monsieur Riviere would not wheel Dard all across the park for + amusement.” + </p> + <p> + Rose assented; and in another minute, by a strange caprice of fate, those + Edouard had come to intercept, quickened their pace to intercept him. As + soon as he saw their intention he thrilled all over, but did not slacken + his pace. He told Dard to take his coat and throw it over his foot, for + here were the young ladies coming. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” said Dard sulkily. “No! let them see what they have done with + their little odd jobs: this is my last for one while. I sha’n’t go on two + legs again this year.” + </p> + <p> + The ladies came up with them. + </p> + <p> + “O monsieur!” said Josephine, “what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “We have met with a little accident, mademoiselle, that is all. Dard has + hurt his foot; nothing to speak of, but I thought he would be best at + home.” + </p> + <p> + Rose raised the coat which Riviere, in spite of Dard, had flung over his + foot. + </p> + <p> + “He is bleeding! Dard is bleeding! Oh, my poor Dard. Oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Rose!” + </p> + <p> + “No, don’t put him out of heart, mademoiselle. Take another pull at the + flask, Dard. If you please, ladies, I must have him home without delay.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, but I want him to have a surgeon,” cried Josephine. “And we have + no horses nor people to send off as we used to have.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have me, mademoiselle,” said Edouard tenderly. “Me, who would go + to the world’s end for you.” He said this to Josephine, but his eye sought + Rose. “I’m a famous runner,” he added, a little bumptiously; “I’ll be at + the town in half an hour, and send a surgeon up full gallop.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a good heart,” said Rose simply. + </p> + <p> + He bowed his blushing, delighted face, and wheeled Dard to his cottage + hard by with almost more than mortal vigor. How softly, how nobly, that + frolicsome girl could speak! Those sweet words rang in his ears and ran + warm round and round his heart, as he straightened his arms and his back + to the work. When they had gone about a hundred yards, a single snivel + went off in the wheelbarrow. Five minutes after, Dard was at home in + charge of his grandmother, his shoe off, his foot in a wet linen cloth; + and Edouard, his coat tied round the neck, squared his shoulders, and ran + the two short leagues out. He ran them in forty minutes, found the surgeon + at home, told the case, pooh-poohed that worthy’s promise to go to the + patient presently, darted into his stable, saddled the horse, brought him + round, saw the surgeon into the saddle, started him, dined at the + restaurateur’s, strolled back, and was in time to get a good look at the + chateau of Beaurepaire just as the sun set on it. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha came into Dard’s cottage that evening. + </p> + <p> + “So you have been at it, my man,” cried she cheerfully and rather roughly, + then sat down and rocked herself, with her apron over her head. She + explained this anomalous proceeding to his grandmother privately. “I + thought I would keep his heart up anyway, but you see I was not fit.” + </p> + <p> + Next morning, as Riviere sat writing, he received an unexpected visit from + Jacintha. She came in with her finger to her lips, and said, “You prowl + about Dard’s cottage. They are sure to go and see him every day, and him + wounded in their service.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you good girl! you dear girl!” cried Edouard. + </p> + <p> + She did not reply in words, but, after going to the door, returned and + gave him a great kiss without ceremony. “Dare say you know what that’s + for,” said she, and went off with a clear conscience and reddish cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Dard’s grandmother had a little house, a little land, a little money, and + a little cow. She could just maintain Dard and herself, and her resources + enabled Dard to do so many little odd jobs for love, yet keep his main + organ tolerably filled. + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed, my little son, since you have got hashed,” said she.—“Bed + be hanged,” cried he. “What good is bed? That’s a silly old custom wants + doing away with. It weakens you: it turns you into train oil: it is the + doctor’s friend, and the sick man’s bane. Many a one dies through taking + to bed, that could have kept his life if he had kept his feet like a man. + If I had cut myself in two I would not go to bed,—till I go to the + bed with a spade in it. No! sit up like Julius Caesar; and die as you + lived, in your clothes: don’t strip yourself: let the old women strip you; + that is their delight laying out a chap; that is the time they brighten + up, the old sorceresses.” He concluded this amiable rhapsody, the latter + part of which was levelled at a lugubrious weakness of his grandmother’s + for the superfluous embellishment of the dead, by telling her it was bad + enough to be tied by the foot like an ass, without settling down on his + back like a cast sheep. “Give me the armchair. I’ll sit in it, and, if I + have any friends, they will show it now: they will come and tell me what + is going on in the village, for I can’t get out to see it and hear it, + they must know that.” + </p> + <p> + Seated in state in his granny’s easy-chair, the loss of which after thirty + years’ use made her miserable, she couldn’t tell why, le Sieur Dard + awaited his friends. + </p> + <p> + They did not come. + </p> + <p> + The rain did, and poured all the afternoon. Night succeeded, and solitude. + Dard boiled over with bitterness. “They are a lot of pigs then, all those + fellows I have drunk with at Bigot’s and Simmet’s. Down with all + fair-weather friends.” + </p> + <p> + The next day the sun shone, the air was clear, and the sky blue. “Ah! let + us see now,” cried Dard. + </p> + <p> + Alas! no fellow-drinkers, no fellow-smokers, came to console their hurt + fellow. And Dard, who had boiled with anger yesterday, was now sad and + despondent. “Down with egotists,” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + About three in the afternoon came a tap at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! at last,” cried Dard: “come in!” + </p> + <p> + The door was slowly opened, and two lovely faces appeared at the + threshold. The demoiselles De Beaurepaire wore a tender look of interest + and pity when they caught sight of Dard, and on the old woman courtesying + to them they courtesied to her and Dard. The next moment they were close + to him, one a little to his right, the other to his left, and two pair of + sapphire eyes with the mild lustre of sympathy playing down incessantly + upon him. How was he? How had he slept? Was he in pain? Was he in much + pain? tell the truth now. Was there anything to eat or drink he could + fancy? Jacintha should make it and bring it, if it was within their means. + A prince could not have had more solicitous attendants, nor a fairy king + lovelier and less earthly ones. + </p> + <p> + He looked in heavy amazement from one to the other. Rose bent, and was by + some supple process on one knee, taking the measure of the wounded foot. + When she first approached it he winced: but the next moment he smiled. He + had never been touched like this—it was contact and no contact—she + treated his foot as the zephyr the violets—she handled it as if it + had been some sacred thing. By the help of his eye he could just know she + was touching him. Presently she informed him he was measured for a list + shoe: and she would run home for the materials. During her absence came a + timid tap to the door; and Edouard Riviere entered. He was delighted to + see Josephine, and made sure Rose was not far off. It was Dard who let out + that she was gone to Beaurepaire for some cloth to make him a shoe. This + information set Edouard fidgeting on his chair. He saw such a chance as + was not likely to occur again. He rose with feigned nonchalance, and + saying, “I leave you in good hands; angel visitors are best enjoyed + alone,” slowly retired, with a deep obeisance. Once outside the door, + dignity vanished in alacrity; he flew off into the park, and ran as hard + as he could towards the chateau. He was within fifty yards of the little + gate, when sure enough Rose emerged. They met; his heart beat violently. + “Mademoiselle,” he faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it is Monsieur Riviere, I declare,” said Rose, coolly; all over + blushes though. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle, and I am so out of breath. Mademoiselle Josephine + awaits you at Dard’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “She sent you for me?” inquired Rose, demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Not positively. But I could see I should please her by coming for you; + there is, I believe, a bull or so about.” + </p> + <p> + “A bull or two! don’t talk in that reckless way about such things. She has + done well to send you; let us make haste.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am a little out of breath.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind that! I abhor bulls.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mademoiselle, we are not come to them yet, and the faster we go now + the sooner we shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I always like to get a disagreeable thing over as soon as + possible,” said Rose, slyly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” replied Edouard, mournfully, “in that case let us make haste.” + </p> + <p> + After a little spurt, mademoiselle relaxed the pace of her own accord, and + even went slower than before. There was an awkward silence. Edouard eyed + the park boundary, and thought, “Now what I have to say I must say before + we get to you;” and being thus impressed with the necessity of immediate + action, he turned to lead. + </p> + <p> + Rose eyed him and the ground, alternately, from under her long lashes. + </p> + <p> + At last he began to color and flutter. She saw something was coming, and + all the woman donned defensive armor. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it quite decided that your family refuse my acquaintance, my services, + which I still—forgive me—press on you? Ah! Mademoiselle Rose, + am I never to have the happiness of—of—even speaking to you?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems so,” said Rose, ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Have you then decided against me too?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” asked Rose. “What have I to do with questions of etiquette? I am only + a child: so considered at least.” + </p> + <p> + “You a child—an angel like you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask any of them, they will tell you I am a child; and it is to that I owe + this conversation, no doubt; if you did not look on me as a child, you + would not take this liberty with me,” said the young cat, scratching + without a moment’s notice. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, do not be angry. I was wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! never mind. Children are little creatures without reserve, and + treated accordingly, and to notice them is to honor them.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu then, mademoiselle. Try to believe no one respects you more than I + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us part, for there is Dard’s house; and I begin to suspect that + Josephine never sent you.” + </p> + <p> + “I confess it.” + </p> + <p> + “There, he confesses it. I thought so all along; WHAT A DUPE I HAVE BEEN!” + </p> + <p> + “I will offend no more,” said poor silly Edouard. “Adieu, mademoiselle. + May you find friends as sincere as I am, and more to your taste!” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven hear your prayers!” replied the malicious thing, casting up her + eyes with a mock tragic air. + </p> + <p> + Edouard sighed; a chill conviction that she was both heartless and empty + fell on him. He turned away without another word. She called to him with a + sudden airy cheerfulness that made him start. “Stay, monsieur, I forgot—I + have a favor to ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could believe that:” and his eyes brightened. + </p> + <p> + Rose stopped, and began to play with her parasol. “You seem,” said she + softly, “to be pretty generous in bestowing your acquaintance on + strangers. I should be glad if I might secure you for a dear friend of + mine, Dr. Aubertin. He will not discredit my recommendation; and he will + not make so many difficulties as we do; shall I tell you why? Because he + is really worth knowing. In short, believe me, it will be a valuable + acquaintance for you—and for him,” added she with all the grace of + the De Beaurepaires. + </p> + <p> + Many a man, inferior in a general way to Edouard Riviere, would have made + a sensible reply to this. Such as, “Oh, any friend of yours, mademoiselle, + must be welcome to me,” or the like. But the proposal caught Edouard on + his foible, his vanity, to wit; and our foibles are our manias. He was + mortified to the heart’s core. “She refuses to know me herself,” thought + he, “but she will use my love to make me amuse that old man.” His heart + swelled against her injustice and ingratitude, and his crushed vanity + turned to strychnine. “Mademoiselle,” said he, bitterly and doggedly, but + sadly, “were I so happy as to have your esteem, my heart would overflow, + not only on the doctor but on every honest person around. But if I must + not have the acquaintance I value more than life, suffer me to be alone in + the world, and never to say a word either to Dr. Aubertin, or to any human + creature if I can help it.” + </p> + <p> + The imperious young beauty drew herself up directly. “So be it, monsieur; + you teach me how a child should be answered that forgets herself, and asks + a favor of a stranger—a perfect stranger,” added she, maliciously. + </p> + <p> + Could one of the dog-days change to mid-winter in a second, it would + hardly seem so cold and cross as Rose de Beaurepaire turned from the + smiling, saucy fairy of the moment before. Edouard felt as it were a + portcullis of ice come down between her and him. She courtesied and glided + away. He bowed and stood frozen to the spot. + </p> + <p> + He felt so lonely and so bitter, he must go to Jacintha for comfort. + </p> + <p> + He took advantage of the ladies being with Dard, and marched boldly into + the kitchen of Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never,” cried Jacintha. “But, after all, why not?” + </p> + <p> + He hurled himself on the kitchen table (clean as china), and told her it + was all over. “She hates me now; but it is not my fault,” and so poured + forth his tale, and feeling sure of sympathy, asked Jacintha whether it + was not bitterly unjust of Rose to refuse him her own acquaintance, yet + ask him to amuse that old fogy. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha stood with her great arms akimbo, taking it all in, and looking + at him with a droll expression of satirical wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Now you listen to a parable,” said she. “Once there was a little boy + madly in love with raspberry jam.” + </p> + <p> + “A thing I hate.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell me! Who hates raspberry jam? He came to the store closet, + where he knew there were jars of it, and—oh! misery—the door + was locked. He kicked the door, and wept bitterly. His mamma came and + said, ‘Here is the key,’ and gave him the key. And what did he do? Why, he + fell to crying and roaring, and kicking the door. ‘I don’t wa-wa-wa-wa-nt + the key-ey-ey. I wa-a-ant the jam—oh! oh! oh! oh!’” and Jacintha + mimicked, after her fashion, the mingled grief and ire of infancy debarred + its jam. Edouard wore a puzzled air, but it was only for a moment; the + next he hid his face in his hands, and cried, “Fool!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not contradict you,” said his Mentor. + </p> + <p> + “She was my best friend. Once acquainted with the doctor, I could visit at + Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu!” + </p> + <p> + “She had thought of a way to reconcile my wishes with this terrible + etiquette that reigns here.” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks to more purpose than you do; that is clear.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is left now but to ask her pardon, and to consent; I am off.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you are not,” and Jacintha laid a grasp of iron on him. “Will you be + quiet?—is not one blunder a day enough? If you go near her now, she + will affront you, and order the doctor not to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “O Jacintha! your sex then are fiends of malice?” + </p> + <p> + “While it lasts. Luckily with us nothing lasts very long. Now you don’t go + near her till you have taken advantage of her hint, and made the doctor’s + acquaintance; that is easy done. He walks two hours on the east road every + day, with his feet in the puddles and his head in the clouds. Them’s HIS + two tastes.” + </p> + <p> + “But how am I to get him out of the clouds and the puddles?” inquired + Riviere half peevishly. + </p> + <p> + “How?” asked Jacintha, with a dash of that contempt uneducated persons + generally have for any one who does not know some little thing they happen + to know themselves. “How? Why, with the nearest blackbeetle, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “A blackbeetle?” + </p> + <p> + “Black or brown; it matters little. Have her ready for use in your + handkerchief: pull a long face: and says you—‘Excuse me, sir, I have + THE MISFORTUNE not to know the Greek name of this merchandise here.’ Say + that, and behold him launched. He will christen you the beast in Hebrew + and Latin as well as Greek, and tell you her history down from the flood: + next he will beg her of you, and out will come a cork and a pin, and + behold the creature impaled. For that is how men love beetles. He has a + thousand pinned down at home—beetles, butterflies, and so forth. + When I go near the rubbish with my duster he trembles like an aspen. I + pretend to be going to clean them, but it is only to see the face he + makes, for even a domestic must laugh now and then—or die. But I + never do clean them, for after all he is more stupid than wicked, poor + man: I have not therefore the sad courage to make him wretched.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us return to our beetle—what will his tirades about its + antiquity advance me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! one begins about a beetle, but one ends Heaven knows where.” + </p> + <p> + Riviere profited by this advice. He even improved on it. In due course he + threw himself into Aubertin’s way. He stopped the doctor reverentially, + and said he had heard he was an entomologist. WOULD he be kind enough to + tell him what was this enormous chrysalis he had just found? + </p> + <p> + “The death’s head moth!” cried Aubertin with enthusiasm—“the death’s + head moth! a great rarity in this district. Where found you this?” Riviere + undertook to show him the place. + </p> + <p> + It was half a league distant. Coming and going he had time to make friends + with Aubertin, and this was the easier that the old gentleman, who was a + physiognomist as well as ologist, had seen goodness and sensibility in + Edouard’s face. At the end of the walk he begged the doctor to accept the + chrysalis. The doctor coquetted. “That would be a robbery. You take an + interest in these things yourself—at least I hope so.” + </p> + <p> + The young rogue confessed modestly to the sentiment of entomology, but + “the government worked him so hard as to leave him no hopes of shining in + so high a science,” said he sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + The doctor pitied him. “A young man of your attainments and tastes to be + debarred from the everlasting secrets of nature, by the fleeting politics + of the day.” + </p> + <p> + Riviere shrugged his shoulders. “Somebody must do the dirty work,” said + he, chuckling inwardly. + </p> + <p> + The chrysalis went to Beaurepaire in the pocket of a grateful man, who + that same evening told the whole party his conversation with young + Riviere, on whom he pronounced high encomiums. Rose’s saucy eyes sparkled + with fun: you might have lighted a candle at one and exploded a mine at + the other; but not a syllable did she utter. + </p> + <p> + The doctor proved a key, and opened the enchanted castle. One fine day he + presented his friend in the Pleasaunce to the baroness and her daughters. + </p> + <p> + They received him with perfect politeness. Thus introduced, and as he was + not one to let the grass grow under his feet, he soon obtained a footing + as friend of the family, which, being now advised by Josephine, he took + care not to compromise by making love to Rose before the baroness. + However, he insisted on placing his financial talent at their service. He + surveyed and valued their lands, and soon discovered that all their farms + were grossly underlet. Luckily most of the leases were run out. He + prepared a new rent roll, and showed it Aubertin, now his fast friend. + Aubertin at his request obtained a list of the mortgages, and Edouard drew + a balance-sheet founded on sure data, and proved to the baroness that in + able hands the said estate was now solvent. + </p> + <p> + This was a great comfort to the old lady: and she said to Aubertin, + “Heaven has sent us a champion, a little republican—with the face of + an angel.” + </p> + <p> + Descending to practice, Edouard actually put three of the farms into the + market, and let them at an advance of twenty per cent on the expired + leases. He brought these leases signed; and the baroness had scarcely done + thanking him, when her other secret friend, Monsieur Perrin, was + announced. Edouard exchanged civilities with him, and then retired to the + Pleasaunce. There he found both sisters, who were all tenderness and + gratitude to him. By this time he had learned to value Josephine: she was + so lovely and so good, and such a true womanly friend to him. Even Rose + could not resist her influence, and was obliged to be kind to him, when + Josephine was by. But let Josephine go, and instead of her being more + tender, as any other girl would, left alone with her lover, sauciness + resumed its empire till sweet Josephine returned. Whereof cometh an + example; for the said Josephine was summoned to a final conference with + the baroness and Monsieur Perrin. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be long,” said Rose, as Josephine glided away, and (taking the + precaution to wait till she was quite out of hearing), “I shall be so + dull, dear, till you come back.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not though,” said Edouard. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure of that. Now then.” + </p> + <p> + “Now then, what?” + </p> + <p> + “Begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Begin what?” + </p> + <p> + “Amusing me.” And she made herself look sullen and unamusable all over. + </p> + <p> + “I will try,” said Riviere. “I’ll tell you what they say of you: that you + are too young to love.” + </p> + <p> + “So I am, much.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! I made a mistake. I mean too young to be loved.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am not too young for that, not a bit.” + </p> + <p> + This point settled, she suggested that, if he could not amuse her, he had + better do THE NEXT BEST THING, and that was, talk sense. + </p> + <p> + “I think I had better not talk at all,” said he, “for I am no match for + such a nimble tongue. And then you are so remorseless. I’ll hold my + tongue, and make a sketch of this magnificent oak.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, do: draw it as it appeared on a late occasion: with two ladies flying + out of it, and you rooted with dismay.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need; that scene is engraved.” + </p> + <p> + “Where? in all the shops?” + </p> + <p> + “No; on all our memories.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on mine; not on mine. How terrified you were—ha, ha! and how + terrified we should have been if you had not. Listen: once upon a time—don’t + be alarmed: it was long after Noah—a frightened hare ran by a pond; + the frogs splashed in the water, smit with awe. Then she said, ‘Ah ha! + there are people in the world I frighten in my turn; I am the thunderbolt + of war.’ Excuse my quoting La Fontaine: I am not in ‘Charles the Twelfth + of Sweden’ yet. I am but a child.” + </p> + <p> + “And it’s a great mercy, for when you grow up, you will be too much for + me, that is evident. Come, then, Mademoiselle the Quizzer, come and adorn + my sketch.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, shall I make you a confession? You will not be angry: I could + not support your displeasure. I have a strange inclination to walk up and + down this terrace while you go and draw that tree in the Pleasaunce.” + </p> + <p> + “Resist that inclination; perhaps it will fly from you.” + </p> + <p> + “No; you fly from me, and draw. I will rejoin you in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I’m not so stupid. You will step indoors directly.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you doubt my word, sir?” asked she haughtily. + </p> + <p> + He had learned to obey all her caprices; so he went and placed himself on + the west side of the oak and took out his sketch-book, and worked + zealously and rapidly. He had done the outlines of the tree and was + finishing in detail a part of the huge trunk, when his eyes were suddenly + dazzled: in the middle of the rugged bark, deformed here and there with + great wart-like bosses, and wrinkled, seamed, and ploughed all over with + age, burst a bit of variegated color; bright as a poppy on a dungeon wall, + it glowed and glittered out through a large hole in the brown bark; it was + Rose’s face peeping. To our young lover’s eye how divine it shone! None of + the half tints of common flesh were there, but a thing all rose, lily, + sapphire, and soul. His pencil dropped, his mouth opened, he was downright + dazzled by the glowing, bewitching face, sparkling with fun, in the gaunt + tree. Tell me, ladies, did she know, even at that age, the value of that + sombre frame to her brightness? The moment she found herself detected, the + gaunt old tree rang musical with a crystal laugh, and out came the + arch-dryad. “I have been there all the time. How solemn you looked! Now + for the result of such profound study.” He showed her his work; she + altered her tone. “Oh, how clever!” she cried, “and how rapid! What a + facility you have! Monsieur is an artist,” said she gravely; “I will be + more respectful,” and she dropped him a low courtesy. “Mind you promised + it me,” she added sharply. + </p> + <p> + “You will accept it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “That I will, now it is worth having: dear me, I never reckoned on that. + Finish it directly,” cried this peremptory young person. + </p> + <p> + “First I must trouble you to stand out there near the tree.” + </p> + <p> + “Me? what for?” + </p> + <p> + “Because art loves contrasts. The tree is a picture of age and gradual + decay; by its side then I must place a personification of youth and + growing loveliness.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, but made a sort of defiant pirouette, and went where + she was bid, and stood there with her back to the artist. “That will never + do,” said he; “you really must be so good as to turn round.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well.” And when she came round, behold her color had risen + mightily. Flattery is sweet. + </p> + <p> + This child of nature was delighted, and ashamed it should be seen that she + was. + </p> + <p> + And so he drew her, and kept looking off the paper at her, and had a right + in his character of artist to look her full in the face; and he did so + with long lingering glances. To be sure, they all began severe and + businesslike with half-closed eyes, and the peculiar hostile expression + art puts on; but then they always ended open-eyed, and so full and tender, + that she, poor girl, who was all real gold, though sham brass, blushed and + blushed, and did not know which way to look not to be scorched up by his + eye like a tender flower, or blandly absorbed like the pearly dew. Ah, + happy hour! ah, happy days of youth and innocence and first love! + </p> + <p> + Trouble loves to intrude on these halcyon days. + </p> + <p> + The usually quiet Josephine came flying from the house, pale and agitated, + and clung despairingly to Rose, and then fell to sobbing and lamenting + piteously. + </p> + <p> + I shall take leave to relate in my own words what had just occurred to + agitate her so. When she entered her mother’s room, she found the baroness + and Perrin the notary seated watching for her. She sat down after the + usual civilities, and Perrin entered upon the subject that had brought + him. + </p> + <p> + He began by confessing to them that he had not overcome the refractory + creditor without much trouble; and that he had since learned there was + another, a larger creditor, likely to press for payment or for sale of the + estate. The baroness was greatly troubled by this communication: the + notary remained cool as a cucumber, and keenly observant. After a pause he + went on to say all this had caused him grave reflections. “It seems,” said + he with cool candor, “a sad pity the estate should pass from a family that + has held it since the days of Charlemagne.” + </p> + <p> + “Now God forbid!” cried the baroness, lifting her eyes and her quivering + hands to heaven. + </p> + <p> + The notary held the republican creed in all its branches. “Providence, + madame, does not interfere—in matters of business,” said he. + “Nothing but money can save the estate. Let us then be practical. Has any + means occurred to you of raising money to pay off these incumbrances?” + </p> + <p> + “No. What means can there be? The estate is mortgaged to its full value: + so they say, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “And they say true,” put in the notary quickly. “But do not distress + yourself, madame: confide in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my good friend, may Heaven reward you.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, up to the present time I have no complaint to make of Heaven. I + am on the rise: here, mademoiselle, is a gimcrack they have given me;” and + he unbuttoned his overcoat, and showed them a piece of tricolored ribbon + and a clasp. “As for me, I look to ‘the solid;’ I care little for these + things,” said he, swelling visibly, “but the world is dazzled by them. + However, I can show you something better.” He took out a letter. “This is + from the Minister of the Interior to a client of mine: a promise I shall + be the next prefect; and the present prefect—I am happy to say—is + on his death-bed. Thus, madame, your humble servant in a few short months + will be notary no longer, but prefect; I shall then sell my office of + notary: and I flatter myself when I am a prefect you will not blush to own + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, as now, monsieur,” said the baroness politely, “we shall recognize + your merit. But”— + </p> + <p> + “I understand, madame: like me you look to ‘the solid.’ Thus then it is; I + have money.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! all the better for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a good deal of money. But it is dispersed in a great many small + but profitable investments: to call it in suddenly would entail some loss. + Nevertheless, if you and my young lady there have ever so little of that + friendly feeling towards me of which I have so much towards you, all my + investments shall be called in, and two-thirds of your creditors shall be + paid off at once. A single client of mine, no less a man than the + Commandant Raynal, will, I am sure, advance me the remaining third at an + hour’s notice; and so Beaurepaire chateau, park, estate, and grounds, down + to the old oak-tree, shall be saved; and no power shall alienate them from + you, mademoiselle, and from the heirs of your body.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness clasped her hands in ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “But what are we to do for this?” inquired Josephine calmly, “for it seems + to me that it can only be effected by a sacrifice on your part.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, mademoiselle, for your penetration in seeing that I must + make sacrifices. I would never have told you, but you have seen it; and I + do not regret that you have seen it. Madame—mademoiselle—those + sacrifices appear little to me; will seem nothing; will never be + mentioned, or even alluded to after this day, if you, on your part, will + lay me under a far heavier obligation, if in short”—here the + contemner of things unsubstantial reopened his coat, and brought his + ribbon to light again—“if you, madame, will accept me for your + son-in-law—if you, mademoiselle, will take me for your husband.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness and her daughter looked at one another in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Is it a jest?” inquired the former of the latter. + </p> + <p> + “Can you think so? Answer Monsieur Perrin. He has just done us a kind + office, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall remember it. Monsieur, permit me to regret that having lately won + our gratitude and esteem, you have taken this way of modifying those + feelings. But after all,” she added with gentle courtesy, “we may well put + your good deeds against this—this error in judgment. The balance is + in your favor still, provided you never return to this topic. Come, is it + agreed?” The baroness’s manner was full of tact, and the latter sentences + were said with an open kindliness of manner. There was nothing to prevent + Perrin from dropping the subject, and remaining good friends. A gentleman + or a lover would have so done. Monsieur Perrin was neither. He said + bitterly, “You refuse me, then.” + </p> + <p> + The tone and the words were each singly too much for the baroness’s pride. + She answered coldly but civilly,— + </p> + <p> + “I do not refuse you. I do not take an affront into consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “Be calm, mamma; no affront whatever was intended.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! here is one that is more reasonable,” cried Perrin. + </p> + <p> + “There are men,” continued Josephine without noticing him, “who look to + but one thing—interest. It was an offer made politely in the way of + business: decline it in the same spirit; that is what you have to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you hear what mademoiselle says? She carries politeness a long + way. After all it is a good fault. Well, monsieur, I need not answer you, + since Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire has answered you; but I detain you no + longer.” + </p> + <p> + Strictly a weasel has no business with the temper of a tiger, but this one + had, and the long vindictiveness of a Corsican. “Ah! my little lady, you + turn me out of the house, do you?” cried he, grinding his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Turn him out of the house? what a phrase! where has this man lived?” + </p> + <p> + “A man!” snarled Perrin, “whom none ever yet insulted without repenting + it, and repenting in vain. You are under obligations to me, and you think + to turn me out! You are at my mercy, and you think I will let you turn me + to your door! In less than a mouth I will stand here, and say to you, + Beaurepaire is mine. Begone from it!” + </p> + <p> + When he uttered these terrible words, each of which was like a + sword-stroke to the baroness, the old lady, whose courage was not equal to + her strength, shrank over the side of her arm-chair, and cried piteously—“He + threatens me! he threatens me! I am frightened;” and put up her trembling + hands, for the notary’s eloquence, being accompanied with abundance of + gesture, bordered upon physical violence. His brutality received an + unexpected check. Imagine that a sparrow-hawk had seized a trembling + pigeon, and that a royal falcon swooped, and with one lightning-like + stroke of body and wing, buffeted him away, and sent him gaping and + glaring and grasping at pigeonless air with his claws. So swift and + majestic, Josephine de Beaurepaire came from her chair with one gesture of + her body between her mother and the notary, who was advancing with arms + folded in a brutal, menacing way—not the Josephine we have seen her, + the calm languid beauty, but the demoiselle de Beaurepaire—her great + heart on fire—her blood up—not her own only, but all the blood + of all the De Beaurepaires—pale as ashes with great wrath, her + purple eyes on fire, and her whole panther-like body full of spring. + “Wretch! you dare to insult her, and before me! Arriere miserable! or I + soil my hand with your face.” And her hand was up with the word, up, up, + higher it seemed than ever a hand was raised before. And if he had + hesitated one moment, I really believe it would have come down; not + heavily, perhaps—the lightning is not heavy. But there was no need. + The towering threat and the flaming eye and the swift rush buffeted the + caitiff away: he recoiled. She followed him as he went, strong, FOR A + MOMENT OR TWO, as Hercules, beautiful and terrible as Michael driving + Satan. He dared not, or could not stand before her: he writhed and cowered + and recoiled all down the room, while she marched upon him. But the driven + serpent hissed horribly as it wriggled away. + </p> + <p> + “You shall both be turned out of Beaurepaire by me, and forever; I swear + it, parole de Perrin.” + </p> + <p> + He had not been gone a minute when Josephine’s courage oozed away, and she + ran, or rather tottered, into the Pleasaunce, and clung like a drowning + thing to Rose, and, when Edouard took her hand, she clung to him. They had + to gather what had happened how they could: the account was constantly + interrupted with her sobs and self-reproaches. She said she had ruined all + she loved: ruined her sister, ruined her mother, ruined the house of + Beaurepaire. Why was she ever born? Why had she not died three years ago? + (Query, what was the date at which Camille’s letters suddenly stopped?) + “That coward,” said she, “has the heart of a fiend. He told us he never + forgave an affront; and he holds our fate in his hands. He will drive our + mother from her home, and she will die: murdered by her own daughter. + After all, why did I refuse him? What should I have sacrificed by marrying + him? Rose, write to him, and say—say—I was taken by surprise, + I—I”—a violent flood of tears interrupted the sentence. + </p> + <p> + Rose flung her arms round her neck. “My beautiful Josephine marry that + creature? Let house and lands go a thousand times sooner. I love my sister + a thousand times better than the walls of this or any other house.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” cried Edouard, “you are forgetting ME all this time. Do you + really think I am the sort of man to stand by with my hands in my pockets, + and let her marry that cur, or you be driven out of Beaurepaire? Neither, + while I live.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! dear boy,” sighed Josephine, “what can you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll soon show you. From this hour forth it is a duel between that Perrin + and me. Now, Josephine—Rose—don’t you cry and fret like that: + but just look quietly on, and enjoy the fight, both of you.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine shook her head with a sad smile: but Rose delivered herself + thus, after a sob, “La, yes; I forgot: we have got a gentleman now; that’s + one comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard rose to the situation: he saw that Perrin would lose no time; and + that every day, or even hour, might be precious. He told them that the + first thing he must do for them was to leave the company he loved best on + earth, and run down to the town to consult Picard the rival notary: he + would be back by supper-time, when he hoped they would do him the honor, + in a matter of such importance, to admit him to a family council. + </p> + <p> + Josephine assented with perfect simplicity; Rose with a deep blush, for + she was too quick not to see all the consequences of admitting so brisk a + wooer into a family council. + </p> + <p> + It was a wet evening, and a sad and silent party sat round a wood fire in + the great dining-hall. The baroness was almost prostrated by the scene + with Perrin; and a sombre melancholy and foreboding weighed on all their + spirits, when presently Edouard Riviere entered briskly, and saluted them + all profoundly, and opened the proceedings with a little favorite + pomposity. “Madame the baroness, and you Monsieur Aubertin, who honor me + with your esteem, and you Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire, whom I adore, and + you Mademoiselle Rose, whom I hoped to be permitted—you have this + day done me the honor to admit me as your adviser. I am here to lay my + plans before you. I believe, madame, I have already convinced you that + your farms are under-let, and your property lowered in value by general + mismanagement; this was doubtless known to Perrin, and set him scheming. + Well, I rely on the same circumstance to defeat him. I have consulted + Picard and shown him the rent-roll and balance-sheet I had already shown + you. He has confessed that the estate is worth more than its debts, so + capitalists can safely advance the money. To-morrow morning, then, I ride + to Commandant Raynal for a week’s leave of absence; then, armed with + Picard’s certificate, shall proceed to my uncle and ask him to lend the + money. His estate is very small compared with Beaurepaire, but he has + always farmed it himself. ‘I’ll have no go-between,’ says he, ‘to + impoverish both self and soil.’ He is also a bit of a misanthrope, and has + made me one. I have a very poor opinion of my fellow-creatures, very.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but,” said Rose, “if he is all that, he will not sympathize with + us, who have so mismanaged Beaurepaire. Will he not despise us?” + </p> + <p> + Edouard was a little staggered, but Aubertin came to his aid. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me, Josephine,” said he. “Natural history steps in here, and + teaches by me, its mouth-piece. A misanthrope hates all mankind, but is + kind to every individual, generally too kind. A philanthrope loves the + whole human race, but dislikes his wife, his mother, his brother, and his + friends and acquaintances. Misanthrope is the potato: rough and repulsive + outside, but good to the core. Philanthrope is a peach: his manner all + velvet and bloom, his words sweet juice, his heart of hearts a stone. Let + me read Philanthrope’s book, and fall into the hands of Misanthrope.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard admitted the shrewdness of this remark. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” said he, “my misanthrope will say plenty of biting words,—which, + by-the-by, will not hurt you, who will not hear them, only me,—and + then he’ll lend us the money, and Beaurepaire will be free, and I shall + have had a hand in it. Hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + Then came a delicious hour to Edouard Riviere. Young and old poured out + their glowing thanks and praises upon him till his checks burned like + fire. + </p> + <p> + The baroness was especially grateful, and expressed a gentle regret that + she could see no way of showing her gratitude except in words. “What can + we do for this little angel?” said she, turning to Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Leave that to me, mamma,” replied Josephine, turning her lovely eyes full + on Edouard, with a look the baroness misunderstood directly. + </p> + <p> + She sat and watched Josephine and Edouard with comical severity all the + rest of the time she was there; and, when she retired, she kissed Rose + affectionately, but whispered her eldest daughter, “I hope you are not + serious. A mere boy compared with you.” + </p> + <p> + “But such a sweet one,” suggested Josephine, apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “What will the world come to?” said the baroness out loud, and retreated + with a sour glance at all of them—except Rose. + </p> + <p> + She had not been gone five minutes when a letter came by messenger to + Edouard. It was from Picard. He read it out. + </p> + <p> + “Perrin has been with me, to raise money. He wants it in forty-eight + hours. Promises good legal security. I have agreed to try and arrange the + matter for him.” + </p> + <p> + They were all astonished at this. + </p> + <p> + “The double-faced traitor!” cried Edouard. “Stay; wait a minute. Let us + read it to an end.” + </p> + <p> + “This promise is, of course, merely to prevent his going elsewhere. At the + end of the forty-eight hours I shall begin to make difficulties. Meantime, + as Perrin is no fool, you had better profit to the full by this temporary + delay.” + </p> + <p> + “Well done, Picard!” shouted Edouard. “Notary cut notary. I won’t lose an + hour. I’ll start at five; Commandant Raynal is an early riser himself.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, at five he was on the road; Raynal’s quarters lay in the + direct line to his uncle’s place. He found the commandant at home, and was + well received. Raynal had observed his zeal, and liked his manners. He + gave him the week’s leave, and kept him to breakfast, and had his horse + well fed. At eight o’clock Edouard rode out of the premises in high + spirits. At the very gate he met a gaunt figure riding in on a squab pony. + It was Perrin the notary coming in hot haste to his friend and employer, + Commandant Raynal. + </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> + After Edouard’s departure, Josephine de Beaurepaire was sad, and weighed + down with presentiments. She felt as soldiers sometimes feel who know the + enemy is undermining them; no danger on the surface; nothing that can be + seen, met, baffled, attacked, or evaded; in daily peril, all the more + horrible that it imitates perfect serenity, they await the fatal match. + She imparted her misgivings to Aubertin; but he assured her she + exaggerated the danger. + </p> + <p> + “We have a friend still more zealous and active than our enemy; believe + me, your depression is really caused by his absence; we all miss the + contact of that young heroic spirit; we are a body, and he its soul.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine was silent, for she said to herself, “Why should I dash their + spirits? they are so happy and confident.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard had animated Rose and Aubertin with his own courage, and had even + revived the baroness. + </p> + <p> + It had been agreed between him and Picard that the latter should + communicate with Dr. Aubertin direct, should anything fresh occur. And on + the third day after Edouard’s departure, Picard sent up a private message: + “Perrin has just sent me a line to say he will not trouble us, as he is + offered the money in another quarter.” + </p> + <p> + This was a heavy blow, and sent them all to bed more or less despondent. + </p> + <p> + The next day brought a long letter from Edouard to Rose, telling her he + had found his uncle crusty at first; but at last with a little patience, + and the co-operation of Martha, his uncle’s old servant, and his nurse, + the old boy had come round. They might look on the affair as all but + settled. + </p> + <p> + The contents of this letter were conveyed to the baroness. The house + brightened under it: the more so that there was some hope of their + successful champion returning in person next day. Meantime Perrin had + applied to Raynal for the immediate loan of a large sum of money on + excellent security. Raynal refused plump. Perrin rode away disconsolate. + </p> + <p> + But the next day he returned to the charge with another proposal: and the + nature of this second proposal we shall learn from events. + </p> + <p> + The day Edouard was expected opened deliciously. It was a balmy morning, + and tempted the sisters out before breakfast. They strolled on the south + terrace with their arms round each other’s waists, talking about Edouard, + and wondering whether they should really see him before night. Rose owned + she had missed him, and confessed for the first time she was a proud and + happy girl. + </p> + <p> + “May I tell him so?” asked Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Not for all the world. Would you dare?” + </p> + <p> + Further discussion of that nice point was stopped by the baroness coming + out, leaning on Dr. Aubertin. + </p> + <p> + Then—how we young people of an unceremonious age should have stared—the + demoiselles de Beaurepaire, inasmuch as this was their mother’s first + appearance, lowered their fair heads at the same time like young poplars + bowing to the wind, and so waited reverently till she had slightly lifted + her hands, and said, “God bless you, my children!” + </p> + <p> + It was done in a moment on both sides, but full of grace and piety, and + the charm of ancient manners. + </p> + <p> + “How did our dear mother sleep?” inquired Josephine. Aubertin interposed + with a theory that she slept very well indeed if she took what he gave + her. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, IF,” suggested Rose, saucily. + </p> + <p> + “I slept,” said the baroness, “and I wish I had not for I dreamed an ugly + dream.” They all gathered round her, and she told her dream. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I was with you all in this garden. I was admiring the flowers + and the trees, and the birds were singing with all their might. Suddenly a + dark cloud came; it cleared almost directly; but flowers, trees, sky, and + birds were gone now, and I could see the chateau itself no more. It means + that I was dead. An ugly dream, my children, an ugly dream.” + </p> + <p> + “But only a dream, dear mother,” said Rose: then with a sweet, consoling + smile, “See, here is your terrace and your chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “And here are your daughters,” said Josephine; and they both came and + kissed her to put their existence out of doubt. “And here is your + Aesculapius,” said Aubertin. “And here is your Jacintha.” + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast, madame,” said Jacintha. “Breakfast, mesdemoiselles. Breakfast, + monsieur:” dropping each a distinct courtesy in turn. + </p> + <p> + “She has turned the conversation very agreeably,” said the baroness, and + went in leaning on her old friend. + </p> + <p> + But the sisters lagged behind and took several turns in silence. Rose was + the first to speak. “How superstitious of you!” + </p> + <p> + “I said nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but you looked volumes at me while mamma was telling her dream. For + my part I feel sure love is stronger than hate; and we shall stay all our + days in this sweet place: and O Josey! am I not a happy girl that it’s all + owing to HIM!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Jacintha came running towards them. They took it for a + summons to breakfast, and moved to meet her. But they soon saw she was + almost as white as her apron, and she came open-mouthed and wringing her + hands. “What shall I do? what shall I do? Oh, don’t let my poor mistress + know!” + </p> + <p> + They soon got from her that Dard had just come from the town, and learned + the chateau was sold, and the proprietor coming to take possession this + very day. The poor girls were stupefied by the blow. + </p> + <p> + If anything, Josephine felt it worst. “It is my doing,” she gasped, and + tottered fainting. Rose supported her: she shook it off by a violent + effort. “This is no time for weakness,” she cried, wildly; “come to the + Pleasaunce; there is water there. I love my mother. What will I not do for + her? I love my mother.” + </p> + <p> + Muttering thus wildly she made for the pond in the Pleasaunce. She had no + sooner turned the angle of the chateau than she started back with a + convulsive cry, and her momentary feebleness left her directly; she + crouched against the wall and griped the ancient corner-stone with her + tender hand till it powdered, and she spied with dilating eye into the + Pleasaunce, Rose and Jacintha panting behind her. Two men stood with their + backs turned to her looking at the oak-tree; one an officer in full + uniform, the other the human snake Perrin. Though the soldier’s back was + turned, his off-handed, peremptory manner told her he was inspecting the + place as its master. + </p> + <p> + “The baroness! the baroness!” cried Jacintha, with horror. They looked + round, and the baroness was at their very backs. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” cried she, gayly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see this nothing.” + </p> + <p> + They glanced at one another, and, idle as the attempt was, the habit of + sparing her prevailed, and they flung themselves between her and the blow. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine is not well,” said Rose. “She wants to go in.” Both girls faced + the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Jacintha,” said the baroness, “fetch Dr. Aubertin. There, I have sent her + away. So now tell me, why do you drive me back so? Something has + happened,” and she looked keenly from one to the other. + </p> + <p> + “O mamma! do not go that way: there are strangers in the Pleasaunce.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see. So there are. Call Jacintha back that I may order these + people out of my premises.” Josephine implored her to be calm. + </p> + <p> + “Be calm when impertinent intruders come into my garden?” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, they are not intruders.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “They have a right to be in our Pleasaunce. They have bought the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible. HE was to buy it for us—there is some mistake—what + man would kill a poor old woman like me? I will speak to this gentleman: + he wears a sword. Soldiers do not trample on women. Ah! that man.” + </p> + <p> + The notary, attracted by her voice, was coming towards her, a paper in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + Raynal coolly inspected the tree, and tapped it with his scabbard, and + left Perrin to do the dirty work. The notary took off his hat, and, with a + malignant affectation of respect, presented the baroness with a paper. + </p> + <p> + The poor old thing took it with a courtesy, the effect of habit, and read + it to her daughters as well as her emotion permitted, and the language, + which was as new to her as the dialect of Cat Island to Columbus. + </p> + <p> + “Jean Raynal, domiciled by right, and lodging in fact at the Chateau of + Beaurepaire, acting by the pursuit and diligence of Master Perrin, notary; + I, Guillaume Le Gras, bailiff, give notice to Josephine Aglae St. Croix de + Beaurepaire, commonly called the Baroness de Beaurepaire, having no known + place of abode”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “But lodging wrongfully at the said Chateau of Beaurepaire, that she is + warned to decamp within twenty-four hours”— + </p> + <p> + “To decamp!” + </p> + <p> + “Failing which that she will be thereto enforced in the manner for that + case made and provided with the aid of all the officers and agents of the + public force.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! no, messieurs, pray do not use force. I am frightened enough already. + I did not know I was doing anything wrong. I have been here thirty years. + But, since Beaurepaire is sold, I comprehend perfectly that I must go. It + is just. As you say, I am not in my own house. I will go, gentlemen, I + will go. Whither shall I go, my children? The house where you were born to + me is ours no longer. Excuse me, gentlemen—this is nothing to you. + Ah! sir, you have revenged yourself on two weak women—may Heaven + forgive you!” + </p> + <p> + The notary turned on his heel. The poor baroness, all whose pride the iron + law, with its iron gripe, had crushed into dismay and terror, appealed to + him. “O sir! send me from the house, but not from the soil where my Henri + is laid! is there not in all this domain a corner where she who was its + mistress may lie down and die? Where is the NEW BARON, that I may ask this + favor of him on my knees?” + </p> + <p> + She turned towards Raynal and seemed to be going towards him with + outstretched arms. But Rose checked her with fervor. “Mamma! do not lower + yourself. Ask nothing of these wretches. Let us lose all, but not forget + ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness had not her daughter’s spirit. Her very person tottered under + this blow. Josephine supported her, and the next moment Aubertin came out + and hastened to her side. Her head fell back; what little strength she had + failed her; she was half lifted, half led, into the house. + </p> + <p> + Commandant Raynal was amazed at all this, and asked what the deuce was the + matter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the notary, “we are used to these little scenes in our + business.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not,” replied the soldier. “You never told me there was to be + all this fuss.” + </p> + <p> + He then dismissed his friend rather abruptly and strode up and down the + Pleasaunce. He twisted his mustaches, muttered, and “pested,” and was ill + at ease. Accustomed to march gayly into a town, and see the regiment, that + was there before, marching gayly out, or vice versa, and to strike tents + twice a quarter at least, he was little prepared for such a scene as this. + True, he did not hear all the baroness’s words, but more than one tone of + sharp distress reached him where he stood, and the action of the whole + scene was so expressive, there was little need of words. He saw the notice + given; the dismay it caused, and the old lady turn imploringly towards him + with a speaking gesture, and above all he saw her carried away, half + fainting, her hands clasped, her reverend face pale. He was not a man of + quick sensibilities. He did not thoroughly take the scene in at first: it + grew upon him afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it,” thought he, “I am the proprietor. They all say so. Instead + of which I feel like a thief. Fancy her getting so fond of a PLACE as all + this.” + </p> + <p> + Presently it occurred to him that the shortness of the notice might have + much to do with her distress. “These notaries,” said he to himself, + “understand nothing save law: women have piles of baggage, and can’t + strike tents directly the order comes, as we can. Perhaps if I were to + give them twenty-four days instead of hours?—hum!” + </p> + <p> + With this the commandant fell into a brown study. Now each of us has his + attitude of brown study. One runs about the room like hyena in his den; + another stands stately with folded arms (this one seldom thinks to the + purpose); another sits cross-legged, brows lowered: another must put his + head into his hand, and so keep it up to thinking mark: another must + twiddle a bit of string, or a key; grant him this, he can hatch an epic. + This commandant must draw himself up very straight, and walk six paces and + back very slowly, till the problem was solved: I suspect he had done a + good bit of sentinel work in his time. + </p> + <p> + Now whilst he was guarding the old oak-tree, for all the world as if it + had been the gate of the Tuileries or the barracks, Josephine de + Beaurepaire came suddenly out from the house and crossed the Pleasaunce: + her hair was in disorder, her manner wild: she passed swiftly into the + park. + </p> + <p> + Raynal recognized her as one of the family; and after a moment’s + reflection followed her into the park with the good-natured intention of + offering her a month to clear out instead of a day. + </p> + <p> + But it was not so easy to catch her: she flew. He had to take his scabbard + in his left hand and fairly run after her. Before he could catch her, she + entered the little chapel. He came up and had his foot on the very step to + go in, when he was arrested by that he heard within. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had thrown herself on her knees and was praying aloud: praying + to the Virgin with sighs and sobs and all her soul: wrestling so in prayer + with a dead saint as by a strange perversity men cannot or will not + wrestle with Him, who alone can hear a million prayers at once from a + million different places,—can realize and be touched with a sense of + all man’s infirmities in a way no single saint with his partial experience + of them can realize and be touched by them; who unasked suspended the laws + of nature that had taken a stranger’s only son, and she a widow; and wept + at another great human sorrow, while the eyes of all the great saints that + stood around it and Him were dry. + </p> + <p> + Well, the soldier stood, his right foot on the step and his sword in his + left hand, transfixed: listening gravely to the agony of prayer the + innocent young creature poured forth within:— + </p> + <p> + “O Madonna! hear me: it is for my mother’s life. She will die—she + will die. You know she cannot live if she is taken away from her house and + from this holy place where she prays to you this many years. O Queen of + Heaven! put out your hand to us unfortunates! Virgin, hear a virgin: + mother, listen to a child who prays for her mother’s life! The doctor says + she will not live away from here. She is too old to wander over the world. + Let them drive us forth: we are young, but not her, mother, oh, not her! + Forgive the cruel men that do this thing!—they are like those who + crucified your Son—they know not what they are doing. But you, Queen + of Heaven, you know all; and, sweet mother, if you have kind sentiments + towards me, poor Josephine, ah! show them now: for you know that it was I + who insulted that wicked notary, and it is out of hatred to me he has sold + our beloved house to a hard stranger. Look down on me, a child who loves + her mother, yet will destroy her unless you pity me and help me. Oh! what + shall I say?—what shall I do? mercy! mercy! for my poor mother, for + me!” + </p> + <p> + Here her utterance was broken by sobs. + </p> + <p> + The soldier withdrew his foot quietly. Her words had knocked against his + very breast-bone. He marched slowly to and fro before the chapel, upright + as a dart, and stiff as a ramrod, and actually pale: for even our nerves + have their habits; a woman’s passionate grief shook him as a cannon fired + over his head could not. + </p> + <p> + Josephine little thought who was her sentinel. She came to the door at + last, and there he was marching backwards and forwards, upright and stiff. + She gave a faint scream and drew back with a shudder at the sight of their + persecutor. She even felt faintish at him, as women will in such cases. + </p> + <p> + Not being very quick at interpreting emotion, Raynal noticed her alarm, + but not her repugnance; he saluted her with military precision by touching + his cap as only a soldier can, and said rather gently for him, “A word + with you, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + She replied only by trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be frightened,” said Raynal, in a tone not very reassuring. “I + propose an armistice.” + </p> + <p> + “I am at your disposal, sir,” said Josephine, now assuming a calmness that + was belied by the long swell of her heaving bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you look on me as an enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I do otherwise, sir? yet perhaps I ought not. You did not know + us. You just wanted an estate, I suppose—and—oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t cry; and let us come to the point, since I am a man of few + words.” + </p> + <p> + “If you please, sir. My mother may miss me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was in position on your flank when the notary delivered his fire. + And I saw the old woman’s distress.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “When you came flying out I followed to say a good word to you. I could + not catch you. I listened while you prayed to the Virgin. That was not a + soldier-like trick, you will say. I confess it.” + </p> + <p> + “It matters little, sir, and you heard nothing I blush for.” + </p> + <p> + “No! by St. Denis; quite the contrary. Well, to the point. Young lady, you + love your mother.” + </p> + <p> + “What has she on earth now but her children’s love?” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here, young lady, I had a mother; I loved her in my humdrum way + very dearly. She promised me faithfully not to die till I should be a + colonel; and she went and died before I was a commandant, even; just + before, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I pity you,” murmured Josephine; and her soft purple eye began to + dwell on him with less repugnance. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for that word, my good young lady,” said Raynal. “Now, I + declare, you are the first that has said that word to me about my losing + the true friend, that nursed me on her knee, and pinched and pinched to + make a man of me. I should like to tell you about her and me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall feel honored,” said Josephine, politely, but with considerable + restraint. + </p> + <p> + Then he told her all about how he had vexed her when he was a boy, and + gone for a soldier, though she was all for trade, and how he had been the + more anxious to see her enjoy his honors and success. “And, mademoiselle,” + said he, appealingly, “the day this epaulet was put on my shoulder in + Italy, she died in Paris. Ah! how could you have the heart to do that, my + old woman?” + </p> + <p> + The soldier’s mustache quivered, and he turned away brusquely, and took + several steps. Then he came back to Josephine, and to his infinite + surprise saw that her purple eyes were thick with tears. “What? you are + within an inch of crying for my mother, you who have your own trouble at + this hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, our situations are so alike, I may well spare some little + sympathy for your misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my good young lady. Well, then, to business; while you were + praying to the Virgin, I was saying a word or two for my part to her who + is no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it was nothing beautiful like the things you said to the other. Can I + turn phrases? I saw her behind her little counter in the Rue Quincampoix; + for she is a woman of the people, is my mother. I saw myself come to the + other side of the counter, and I said, ‘Look here, mother, here is the + devil to pay about this new house. The old woman talks of dying if we take + her from her home, and the young one weeps and prays to all the saints in + paradise; what shall we do, eh?’ Then I thought my old woman said to me, + ‘Jean, you are a soldier, a sort of vagabond; what do you want with a + house in France? you who are always in a tent in Italy or Austria, or who + knows where. Have you the courage to give honest folk so much pain for a + caprice? Come now,’ says she, ‘the lady is of my age, say you, and I can’t + keep your fine house, because God has willed it otherwise; so give her my + place; so then you can fancy it is me you have set down at your hearth: + that will warm your heart up a bit, you little scamp,’ said my old woman + in her rough way. She was not well-bred like you, mademoiselle. A woman of + the people, nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “She was a woman of God’s own making, if she was like that,” cried + Josephine, the tears now running down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that she was, she was. So between her and me it is settled—what + are you crying for NOW? why, you have won the day; the field is yours; + your mother and you remain; I decamp.” He whipped his scabbard up with his + left hand, and was going off without another word, if Josephine had not + stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, what am I to think? what am I to hope? it is impossible that in + this short interview—and we must not forget what is due to you. You + have bought the estate.” + </p> + <p> + “True; well, we will talk over that, to-morrow; but being turned out of + the house, that was the bayonet thrust to the old lady. So you run in and + put her heart at rest about it. Tell her that she may live and die in this + house for Jean Raynal; and tell her about the old woman in the Rue + Quincampoix.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Jean Raynal!” cried Josephine, clasping her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going?” said he, peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” and she darted towards the chateau. + </p> + <p> + But when she had taken three steps she paused, and seemed irresolute. She + turned, and in a moment she had glided to Raynal again and had taken his + hand before he could hinder her, and pressed two velvet lips on it, and + was away again, her cheeks scarlet at what she had done, and her wet eyes + beaming with joy. She skimmed the grass like a lapwing; you would have + taken her at this minute for Rose, or for Virgil’s Camilla; at the gate + she turned an instant and clasped her hands together, with such a look, to + show Raynal she blessed him again, then darted into the house. + </p> + <p> + “Aha, my lady,” said he, as he watched her fly, “behold you changed a + little since you came out.” He was soon on the high road marching down to + the town at a great rate, his sword clanking, and thus ran his thoughts: + “This does one good; you are right, my old woman. Your son’s bosom feels + as warm as toast. Long live the five-franc pieces! And they pretend money + cannot make a fellow happy. They lie; it is because they do not know how + to spend it.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime at the chateau, as still befalls in emergencies and trials, the + master spirit came out and took its real place. Rose was now the mistress + of Beaurepaire; she set Jacintha, and Dard, and the doctor, to pack up + everything of value in the house. “Do it this moment!” she cried; “once + that notary gets possession of the house, it may be too late. Enough of + folly and helplessness. We have fooled away house and lands; our movables + shall not follow them.” + </p> + <p> + The moment she had set the others to work, she wrote a single line to + Riviere to tell him the chateau and lands were sold, and would he come to + Beaurepaire at once? She ran with it herself to Bigot’s auberge, the + nearest post-office, and then back to comfort her mother. + </p> + <p> + The baroness was seated in her arm-chair, moaning and wringing her hands, + and Rose was nursing and soothing her, and bathing her temples with her + last drop of eau de Cologne, and trying in vain to put some of her own + courage into her, when in came Josephine radiant with happiness, crying + “Joy! joy! joy!” and told her strange tale, with this difference, that she + related her own share in it briefly and coldly, and was more eloquent than + I about the strange soldier’s goodness, and the interest her mother had + awakened in his heart. And she told about the old woman in the Rue + Quincampoix, her rugged phrases, and her noble, tender heart. The + baroness, deaf to Rose’s consolations, brightened up directly at + Josephine’s news, and at her glowing face, as she knelt pouring the good + news, and hope, and comfort, point blank into her. But Rose chilled them + both. + </p> + <p> + “It is a generous offer,” said, she, “but one we cannot accept. We cannot + live under so great an obligation. Is all the generosity to be on the side + of this Bonapartist? Are we noble in name only? What would our father have + said to such a proposal?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine hung her head. The baroness groaned. + </p> + <p> + “No, mother,” continued Rose; “let house and land go, but honor and true + nobility remain.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do? you are cruel to me, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” cried the enthusiastic girl, “we need depend on no one. Josephine + and I have youth and spirit.” + </p> + <p> + “But no money.” + </p> + <p> + “We have plenty of jewels, and pictures, and movables. We can take a + farm.” + </p> + <p> + “A farm!” shrieked the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Why, his uncle has a farm, and we have had recourse to him for help: + better a farmhouse than an almshouse, though that almshouse were a palace + instead of a chateau.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine winced and held up her hand deprecatingly. The baroness paled: + it was a terrible stroke of language to come from her daughter. She said + sternly, “There is no answer to that. We were born nobles, let us die + farmers: only permit me to die first.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, mother,” said Rose, kneeling. “I was wrong; it is for me to + obey you, not to dictate. I speak no more.” And, after kissing her mother + and Josephine, she crept away, but she left her words sticking in both + their consciences. + </p> + <p> + “HIS uncle,” said the shrewd old lady. “She is no longer a child; and she + says his uncle. This makes me half suspect it is her that dear boy—Josephine, + tell me the truth, which of you is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear mother, who should it be? they are nearly of an age: and what man + would not love our sweet Rose, that had eyes or a heart?” + </p> + <p> + The baroness sighed deeply; and was silent. After awhile she said, “The + moment they have a lover, he detaches their hearts from their poor old + mother. She is no longer what my Josephine is to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, she is my superior. I see it more and more every day. She is + proud: she is just; she looks at both sides. As for me, I am too apt to + see only what will please those I love.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is the daughter for me,” cried the poor baroness, opening her + arms wide to her. + </p> + <p> + The next morning when they were at breakfast, in came Jacintha to say the + officer was in the dining-room and wanted to speak with the young lady he + talked to yesterday. Josephine rose and went to him. “Well, mademoiselle,” + said he gayly, “the old woman was right. Here I have just got my orders to + march: to leave France in a month. A pretty business it would have been if + I had turned your mother out. So you see there is nothing to hinder you + from living here.” + </p> + <p> + “In your house, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive us. But we feel that would be unjust to you, humiliating to us: + the poor are sometimes proud.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they are,” said Raynal: “and I don’t want to offend your pride. + Confound the house: why did I go and buy it? It is no use to me except to + give pain to worthy people.” He then, after a moment’s reflection, asked + her if the matter could not be arranged by some third party, a mutual + friend. “Then again,” said he, “I don’t know any friend of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Josephine; “we have one friend, who knows you, and + esteems you highly.” + </p> + <p> + She wanted to name Edouard; but she hesitated, and asked her conscience if + it was fair to name him: and while she blushed and hesitated, lo and + behold a rival referee hove in sight. Raynal saw him, suddenly opened a + window, and shouted, “Hallo come in here: you are wanted.” + </p> + <p> + Perrin had ridden up to complete the exodus of the De Beaurepaires, and + was strolling about inspecting the premises he had expelled them from. + </p> + <p> + Here was a pretty referee! + </p> + <p> + Josephine almost screamed—“What are you doing? that is our enemy, + our bitterest enemy. He has only sold you the estate to spite us, not for + the love of you. I had—we had—we mortified his vanity. It was + not our fault: he is a viper. Sir, pray, pray, pray be on your guard + against his counsels.” + </p> + <p> + These words spoken with rare fire and earnestness carried conviction: but + it was too late to recall the invitation. The notary entered the room, and + was going to bow obsequiously to Raynal, when he caught sight of + Josephine, and almost started. Raynal, after Josephine’s warning, was a + little at a loss how to make him available; and even that short delay gave + the notary’s one foible time to lead him into temptation. “Our foibles are + our manias.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” said he, “you have taken possession, commandant. These military men + are prompt, are they not, mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not address yourself to me, sir, I beg,” said Josephine quietly. + </p> + <p> + Perrin kept his self-command. “It is only as Commandant Raynal’s agent I + presume to address so distinguished a lady: in that character I must + inform you that whatever movables you have removed are yours: those we + find in the house on entering we keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, not so fast,” cried Raynal; “bother the chairs and tables! + that is not the point.” + </p> + <p> + “Commandant,” said the notary with dignity, “have I done anything to merit + this? have I served your interests so ill that you withdraw your + confidence from me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, my good fellow; but you exceed your powers. Just now I want you + to take orders, not give them.” + </p> + <p> + “That is only just,” said Perrin, “and I recall my hasty remark: excuse + the susceptibility of a professional man, who is honored with the esteem + of his clients; and favor me with your wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Raynal heartily. “Well, then—I want mademoiselle + and her family to stay here while I go to Egypt with the First Consul. + Mademoiselle makes difficulties; it offends her delicacy.” + </p> + <p> + “Comedy!” said the notary contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Though her mother’s life depends on her staying here.” + </p> + <p> + “Comedy!” said Perrin. Raynal frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Her pride (begging her pardon) is greater than her affection.” + </p> + <p> + “Farce!” + </p> + <p> + “I have pitched upon you to reconcile the two.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have pitched upon the wrong man,” said Perrin bluntly. He added + obsequiously, “I am too much your friend. She has been talking you over, + no doubt; but you have a friend, an Ulysses, who is deaf to the siren’s + voice. I will be no party to such a transaction. I will not co-operate to + humbug my friend and rob him of his rights.” + </p> + <p> + If Josephine was inferior to the notary in petty sharpness, she was his + superior in the higher kinds of sagacity; and particularly in instinctive + perception of character. Her eye flashed with delight at the line Perrin + was now taking with Raynal. The latter speedily justified her + expectations: he just told Perrin to be off, and send him a more + accommodating notary. + </p> + <p> + “A more accommodating notary!” screamed Perrin, stung to madness by this + reproach. “There is not a more accommodating notary in Europe. Ungrateful + man! is this the return for all my zeal, my integrity, my unselfishness? + Is there another agent in the world who would have let such a bargain as + Beaurepaire fall into your hands? It serves me right for deviating from + the rules of business. Send me another agent—oh!” + </p> + <p> + The honest soldier was confused. The lawyer’s eloquence overpowered him. + He felt guilty. Josephine saw his simplicity, and made a cut with a + woman’s two-edged sword. “Sir,” said she coolly, “do you not see it is an + affair of money? This is his way of saying, Pay me handsomely for so + unusual a commission.” + </p> + <p> + “And I’ll pay him double,” cried Raynal, catching the idea; “don’t be + alarmed, I’ll pay you for it.” + </p> + <p> + “And my zeal, my devotion?” + </p> + <p> + “Put ‘em in figures.” + </p> + <p> + “And my prob—?” + </p> + <p> + “Add it up.” + </p> + <p> + “And my integ—?” + </p> + <p> + “Add them together: and don’t bother me.” + </p> + <p> + “I see! I see! my poor soldier. You are no match for a woman’s tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor, for a notary’s. Go to h—-, and send in your bill!” roared the + soldier in a fury. “Well, will you go?” and he marched at him. + </p> + <p> + The notary scuttled out, with something between a snarl and a squeak. + </p> + <p> + Josephine hid her face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” inquired Raynal. “Not crying again, + surely!” + </p> + <p> + “Me! I never cry—hardly. I hid my face because I could not help + laughing. You frightened me, sir,” said she: then very demurely, “I was + afraid you were going to beat him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; a good soldier never leathers a civilian if he can possibly help + it; it looks so bad; and before a lady!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I would have forgiven you, monsieur,” said Josephine benignly, and + something like a little sun danced in her eye. + </p> + <p> + “Now, mademoiselle, since my referee has proved a pig, it is your turn. + Choose you a mutual friend.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine hesitated. “Ours is so young. You know him very well. You are + doubtless the commandant of whom I once heard him speak with such + admiration: his name is Riviere, Edouard Riviere.” + </p> + <p> + “Know him? he is my best officer, out and out.” And without a moment’s + hesitation he took Edouard’s present address, and accepted that youthful + Daniel as their referee; then looked at his watch and marched off to his + public duties with sabre clanking at his heels. + </p> + <p> + The notary went home gnashing his teeth. His sweet revenge was turned to + wormwood this day. Raynal’s parting commissions rang in his ear; in his + bitter mood the want of logical sequence in the two orders disgusted him. + </p> + <p> + So he inverted them. + </p> + <p> + He sent in a thundering bill the very next morning, but postponed the + other commission till his dying day. + </p> + <p> + As for Josephine, she came into the drawing-room beaming with love and + happiness, and after kissing both her mother and Rose with gentle + violence, she let them know the strange turn things had taken. + </p> + <p> + And she whispered to Rose, “Only think, YOUR Edouard to be OUR referee!” + </p> + <p> + Rose blushed and bent over her work; and wondered how Edouard would + discharge so grave an office. + </p> + <p> + The matter approached a climax; for, as the reader is aware, Edouard was + hourly expected at Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + He did not come; but it was not his fault. On receiving Rose’s letter he + declined to stay another hour at his uncle’s. + </p> + <p> + He flung himself on his horse; and, before he was well settled on the + stirrups, the animal shied violently at a wheelbarrow some fool had left + there; and threw Edouard on the stones of the courtyard. He jumped up in a + moment and laughed at Marthe’s terror; meantime a farm-servant caught the + nag and brought him back to his work. + </p> + <p> + But when Edouard went to put his hand on the saddle, he found it would not + obey him. “Wait a minute,” said he; “my arm is benumbed.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see!” said the farmer, and examined the limb himself; “benumbed? + yes; and no wonder. Jacques, get on the brute and ride for the surgeon.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad, uncle?” cried Edouard. “I can’t spare my horse, and I want + no surgeon; it will be well directly.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be worse before it is better.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what you mean, uncle; it is only numbed, ah! it hurts when I + rub it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is worse than numbed, boy; it is broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Broken? nonsense:” and he looked at it in piteous bewilderment: “how can + it be broken? it does not hurt except when I touch it.” + </p> + <p> + “It WILL hurt: I know all about it. I broke mine fifteen years ago: fell + off a haystack.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how unfortunate I am!” cried Edouard, piteously. “But I will go to + Beaurepaire all the same. I can have the thing mended there, as well as + here.” + </p> + <p> + “You will go to bed,” said the old man, quietly; “that is where YOU’LL + go.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go to blazes sooner,” yelled the young one. + </p> + <p> + The old man made a signal to his myrmidons, whom Marthe’s cries had + brought around, and four stout fellows took hold of Edouard by the legs + and the left shoulder and carried him up-stairs raging and kicking; and + deposited him on a bed. + </p> + <p> + Presently he began to feel faint, and so more reasonable. They cut his + coat off, and put him in a loose wrapper, and after considerable delay the + surgeon came, and set his arm skilfully, and behold this ardent spirit + caged. He chafed and fretted sadly. Fortitude was not his forte. + </p> + <p> + It was two days after his accident. He was lying on his back, environed by + slops and cursing his evil fate, and fretting his soul out of its fleshly + prison, when suddenly he heard a cheerful trombone saying three words to + Marthe, then came a clink-clank, and Marthe ushered into the sickroom the + Commandant Raynal. The sick man raised himself in bed, with great surprise + and joy. + </p> + <p> + “O commandant! this is kind to come and see your poor officer in + purgatory.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” cried Raynal, “you see I know what it is. I have been chained down + by the arm, and the leg, and all: it is deadly tiresome.” + </p> + <p> + “Tiresome! it is—it is—oh, dear commandant, Heaven bless you + for coming!” + </p> + <p> + “Ta! ta! ta! I am come on my own business.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better. I have nothing to do; that is what kills me. I’m eating + my own heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannibal! Well, my lad, since you are in that humor, cheer up, for I + bring you a job, and a tough one; it has puzzled me.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, commandant? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, do you know a house and a family called Beaurepaire?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I know Beaurepaire?” + </p> + <p> + And the pale youth turned very red; and stared with awe at this wizard of + a commandant. He thought he was going to be called over the coals for + frequenting a disaffected family. “Well,” said Raynal, “I have been and + bought this Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard uttered a loud exclamation. “It was YOU bought it! she never told + me that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Raynal, “I am the culprit; and we have fixed on you to undo my + work without hurting their pride too much, poor souls; but let us begin + with the facts.” + </p> + <p> + Then Raynal told him my story after his fashion. Of course I shall not go + and print his version; you might like his concise way better than my + verbose; and I’m not here to hold up any man’s coat-tails. Short as he + made it, Edouard’s eyes were moist more than once; and at the end he + caught Raynal’s hand and kissed it. Then he asked time to reflect; “for,” + said he, “I must try and be just.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give you an hour,” said Raynal, with an air of grand munificence. + The only treasure he valued was time. + </p> + <p> + In less than an hour Edouard had solved the knot, to his entire + satisfaction; he even gave the commandant particular instructions for + carrying out his sovereign decree. Raynal received these orders from his + subordinate with that simplicity which formed part of his amazing + character, and rode home relieved of all responsibility in the matter. + </p> + <p> + COMMANDANT RAYNAL TO MADEMOISELLE DE BEAUREPAIRE. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle,—Before I could find time to write to our referee, news + came in that he had just broken his arm;— + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh, dear! our poor Edouard!” + </p> + <p> + And if poor Edouard had seen the pale faces, and heard the faltering + accents, it would have reconciled him to his broken arm almost. This + hand-grenade the commandant had dropped so coolly among them, it was a + long while ere they could recover from it enough to read the rest of the + letter,— + </p> + <p> + So I rode over to him, and found him on his back, fretting for want of + something to do. I told him the whole story. He undertook the business. I + have received his instructions, and next week shall be at his quarters to + clear off his arrears of business, and make acquaintance with all your + family, if they permit. + </p> + <p> + RAYNAL. + </p> + <p> + As the latter part of this letter seemed to require a reply, the baroness + wrote a polite note, and Jacintha sent Dard to leave it for the commandant + at Riviere’s lodgings. But first they all sat down and wrote kind and + pitying and soothing letters to Edouard. Need I say these letters fell + upon him like balm? + </p> + <p> + They all inquired carelessly in their postscripts what he had decided as + their referee. He replied mysteriously that they would know that in a week + or two. Meantime, all he thought it prudent to tell them was that he had + endeavored to be just to both parties. + </p> + <p> + “Little solemn puppy,” said Rose, and was racked with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Next week Raynal called on the baroness. She received him alone. They + talked about Madame Raynal. The next day he dined with the whole party, + and the commandant’s manners were the opposite of what the baroness had + inculcated. But she had a strong prejudice in his favor. Had her feelings + been the other way his brusquerie would have shocked her. It amused her. + If people’s hearts are with you, THAT for their heads! + </p> + <p> + He came every day for a week, chatted with the baroness, walked with the + young ladies; and when after work he came over in the evening, Rose used + to cross-examine him, and out came such descriptions of battles and + sieges, such heroism and such simplicity mixed, as made the evening pass + delightfully. On these occasions the young ladies fixed their glowing eyes + on him, and drank in his character as well as his narrative, in which were + fewer “I’s” than in anything of the sort you ever read or heard. + </p> + <p> + At length Rose contrived to draw him aside, and, hiding her curiosity + under feigned nonchalance, asked him what the referee had decided. He told + her that was a secret for the present. + </p> + <p> + “Well, but,” said Rose, “not from me. Edouard and I have no secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, that’s good,” said Raynal. “Why, you are the very one he warned me + against the most; said you were as curious as Mother Eve, and as sharp as + her needle.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is a little scurrilous traitor,” cried Rose, turning very red. + “So that is how he talks of me behind my back, and calls me an angel to my + face; I’ll pay him for this. Do tell me, commandant; never mind what HE + says.” + </p> + <p> + “What! disobey orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Orders? to you from that boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Raynal, “for that matter, we soldiers are used to command one + moment, and obey the next.” + </p> + <p> + In a word, this military pedant was impracticable, and Rose gave him up in + disgust, and began to call up a sulky look when the other two sang his + praises. For the old lady pronounced him charming, and Josephine said he + was a man of crystal; never said a word he did not mean, and she wished + she was like him. But the baroness thought this was going a little too + far. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” said she hastily; “he is a man, a thorough man. He would + make an intolerable woman. A fine life if one had a parcel of women about, + all blurting out their real minds every moment, and never smoothing + matters.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, what a horrid picture!” chuckled Rose. + </p> + <p> + She then proposed that at his next visit they should all three make an + earnest appeal to him to let them know what Edouard had decided. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine begged to be excused, feared it would be hardly delicate; + and said languidly that for her part she felt they were in good hands, and + prescribed patience. The baroness acquiesced, and poor Rose and her + curiosity were baffled on every side. + </p> + <p> + At last, one fine day, her torments were relieved without any further + exertion on her part. Jacintha bounced into the drawing-room with a notice + that the commandant wanted to speak to Josephine a minute out in the + Pleasaunce. + </p> + <p> + “How droll he is,” said Rose; “fancy sending in for a young lady like + that. Don’t go, Josephine; how, he would stare.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, I no more dare disobey him than if I was one of his soldiers.” + And she laid down her work, and rose quietly to do what she was bid. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Rose, superciliously, “go to your commanding officer. And, O + Josephine, if you are worth anything at all, do get out of him what that + Edouard has settled.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine kissed her, and promised to try. After the first salutation, + there was a certain hesitation about Raynal which Josephine had never seen + a trace of in him before; so, to put him at his ease, and at the same time + keep her promise to Rose, she asked timidly if their mutual friend had + been able to suggest anything. + </p> + <p> + “What! don’t you know that I have been acting all along upon his + instructions?” answered Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed! and you have not told us what he advised.” + </p> + <p> + “Told you? why, of course not; they were secret instructions. I have + obeyed one set, and now I come to the other; and there is the difficulty, + being a kind of warfare I know nothing about.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be savage warfare, then,” suggested the lady politely. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. Now, who would have thought I was such a coward?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine was mystified; however, she made a shrewd guess. “Do you fear a + repulse from any one of us? Then, I suppose, you meditate some extravagant + act of generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I.” + </p> + <p> + “Of delicacy, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Just the reverse. Confound the young dog! why is he not here to help me?” + </p> + <p> + “But, after all,” suggested Josephine, “you have only to carry out his + instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true! that is true! but when a fellow is a coward, a poltroon, + and all that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + This repeated assertion of cowardice on the part of the living Damascus + blade that stood bolt-upright before her, struck Josephine as so funny + that she laughed merrily, and bade him fancy it was only a fort he was + attacking instead of the terrible Josephine; whom none but heroes feared, + she assured him. + </p> + <p> + This encouragement, uttered in jest, was taken in earnest. The soldier + thanked her, and rallied visibly at the comparison. “All right,” said he, + “as you say, it is only a fort—so—mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! will you lend me your hand for a moment?” + </p> + <p> + “My hand! what for? there,” and she put it out an inch a minute. He took + it, and inspected it closely. + </p> + <p> + “A charming hand; the hand of a virtuous woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Josephine as cool as a cucumber, too sublimely and absurdly + innocent even to blush. + </p> + <p> + “Is it your own?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” She blushed at that, I can tell you. + </p> + <p> + “Because if it was, I would ask you to give it me. (I’ve fired the first + shot anyway.)” + </p> + <p> + Josephine whipped her hand off his palm, where it lay like cream spilt on + a trencher. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I see; you are not free: you have a lover.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” cried Josephine in distress; “I love nobody but my mother and + sister: I never shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mother,” cried Raynal; “that reminds me; he told me to ask her; by + Jove, I think he told me to ask her first;” and Raynal up with his + scabbard and was making off. + </p> + <p> + Josephine begged him to do nothing of the kind. + </p> + <p> + “I can save you the trouble,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but my instructions! my instructions!” cried the military pedant, and + ran off into the house, and left Josephine “planted there,” as they say in + France. + </p> + <p> + Raynal demanded a private interview of the baroness so significantly and + unceremoniously that Rose had no alternative but to retire, but not + without a glance of defiance at the bear. She ran straight, without her + bonnet, into the Pleasaunce to slake her curiosity at Josephine. That + young lady was walking pensively, but turned at sight of Rose, and the + sisters came together with a clash of tongues. + </p> + <p> + “O Rose! he has”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + So nimbly does the female mind run on its little beaten tracks, that it + took no more than those syllables for even these innocent young women to + communicate that Raynal had popped. + </p> + <p> + Josephine apologized for this weakness in a hero. “It wasn’t his fault,” + said she. “It is your Edouard who set him to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “My Edouard? Don’t talk in that horrid way: I have no Edouard. You said + ‘no’ of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Something of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + “What, did you not say ‘no’ plump?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not say it brutally, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine, you frighten me. I know you can’t say ‘no’ to any one; and if + you don’t say ‘no’ plump to such a man as this, you might as well say + ‘yes.’” + </p> + <p> + “Well, love,” said Josephine, “you know our mother will relieve me of + this; what a comfort to have a mother!” + </p> + <p> + They waited for Raynal’s departure, to go to the baroness. They had to + wait a long time. Moreover, when he did leave the chateau he came straight + into the Pleasaunce. At sight of him Rose seized Josephine tight and bade + her hold her tongue, as she could not say “no” plump to any one. Josephine + was far from raising any objection to the arrangement. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Rose, before he could get a word out, “even if she had + not declined, I could not consent.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal tapped his forehead reflectively, and drew forth from memory that + he had no instructions whatever to ask HER consent. + </p> + <p> + She colored high, but returned to the charge. + </p> + <p> + “Is her own consent to be dispensed with too? She declined the honor, did + she not?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course she did; but this was anticipated in my instructions. I am to + be sure and not take the first two or three refusals.” + </p> + <p> + “O Josephine, look at that insolent boy: he has found you out.” + </p> + <p> + “Insolent boy!” cried Raynal; “why, it is the referee of your own + choosing, and as well behaved a lad as ever I saw, and a zealous officer.” + </p> + <p> + “My kind friends,” put in Josephine with a sweet languor, “I cannot let + you quarrel about a straw.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not about a straw,” said Raynal, “it is about you.” + </p> + <p> + “The distinction involves a compliment, sir,” said Josephine; then she + turned to Rose, “Is it possible you do not see Monsieur Raynal’s strange + proposal in its true light? and you so shrewd in general. He has no + personal feeling whatever in this eccentric proceeding: he wants to make + us all happy, especially my mother, without seeming to lay us under too + great an obligation. Surely good-nature was never carried so far before; + ha, ha! Monsieur, I will encumber you with my friendship forever, if you + permit me, but farther than that I will not abuse your generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here, mademoiselle,” began Raynal bluntly, “I did start with a + good motive at first, that there’s no denying. But, since I have been + every day in your company, and seen how good and kind you are to all about + you, I have turned selfish; and I say to myself, what a comfort such a + wife as you would be to a soldier! Why, only to have you to write letters + home to, would be worth half a fellow’s pay. Do you know sometimes when I + see the fellows writing their letters it gives me a knock here to think I + have no one at all to write to.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine sighed. + </p> + <p> + “So you see I am not so mighty disinterested. Now, mademoiselle, you speak + so charmingly, I can’t tell what you mean: can’t tell whether you say ‘no’ + because you could never like me, or whether it is out of delicacy, and you + only want pressing. So I say no more at present: it is a standing offer. + Take a day to consider. Take two if you like. I must go to the barracks; + good-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! this must be put an end to at once,” said Rose. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” replied Josephine; “but how?” + </p> + <p> + “Come to our mother, and settle that,” said the impetuous sister, and + nearly dragged the languid one into the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + To their surprise they found the baroness walking up and down the room + with unusual alacrity for a person of her years. She no sooner caught + sight of Josephine than she threw her arms open to her with joyful + vivacity, and kissed her warmly. “My love, you have saved us. I am a happy + old woman. If I had all France to pick from I could not have found a man + so worthy of my Josephine. He is brave, he is handsome, he is young, he is + a rising man, he is a good son, and good sons make good husbands—and—I + shall die at Beaurepaire, shall I not, Madame the Commandante?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine held her mother round the neck, but never spoke. After a silence + she held her tighter, and cried a little. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked the baroness confidentially of Rose, but without + showing any very profound concern. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma! mamma! she does not love him.” + </p> + <p> + “Love him? She would be no daughter of mine if she loved a man at sight. A + modest woman loves her husband only.” + </p> + <p> + “But she scarcely knows Monsieur Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “She knows more of him than I knew of your father when I married him. She + knows his virtues and appreciates them. I have heard her, have I not, + love? Esteem soon ripens into love when they are once fairly married.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother, does her silence then tell you nothing? Her tears—are they + nothing to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Silly child! These are tears that do not scald. The sweet soul weeps + because she now for the first time sees she will have to leave her mother. + Alas! my eldest, it is inevitable. Mothers are not immortal. While they + are here it is their duty to choose good husbands for their daughters. My + youngest, I believe, has chosen for herself—like the nation. But for + my eldest I choose. We shall see which chooses the best. Meantime we stay + at Beaurepaire, thanks to my treasure here.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine! Josephine! you don’t say one word,” cried Rose in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “What CAN I say? I love my mother and I love you. You draw me different + ways. I want you to be both happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you will not speak out I must. Mother, do not deceive yourself: + it is duty alone that keeps her silent: this match is odious to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we are ruined. Josephine, is this match odious to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly odious: but I am very, very indifferent.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” cried Rose triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “There!” cried the baroness in the same breath, triumphantly. “She esteems + his character; but his person is indifferent to her: in other words, she + is a modest girl, and my daughter; and let me tell you, Rose, that but for + the misfortunes of our house, both my daughters would be married as I was, + without knowing half as much of their husbands as Josephine knows of this + brave, honest, generous, filial gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, since she will not speak out, I will. Pity me: I love her so. + If this stranger, whom she does not love, takes her away from us, he will + kill me. I shall die; oh!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine left her mother and went to console Rose. + </p> + <p> + The baroness lost her temper at this last stroke of opposition. “Now the + truth comes out, Rose; this is selfishness. Do not deceive YOURself—selfishness!” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!” + </p> + <p> + “You are only waiting to leave me yourself. Yet your eldest sister, + forsooth, must be kept here for you,—till then.” She added more + gently, “Let me advise you to retire to your own room, and examine your + heart fairly. You will find there is a strong dash of egoism in all this.” + </p> + <p> + “If I do”— + </p> + <p> + “You will retract your opposition.” + </p> + <p> + “My heart won’t let me; but I will despise myself, and be silent.” + </p> + <p> + And the young lady, who had dried her eyes the moment she was accused of + selfishness, walked, head erect, from the room. Josephine cast a + deprecating glance at her mother. “Yes, my angel!” said the latter, “I was + harsh. But we are no longer of one mind, and I suppose never shall be + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, we shall. Be patient! Mother—you shall not leave + Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness colored faintly at these four last words of her daughter, and + hung her head. + </p> + <p> + Josephine saw that, and darted to her and covered her with kisses. + </p> + <p> + That day the doctor scolded them both. “You have put your mother into a + high fever,” said he; “here’s a pulse; I do wish you would be more + considerate.” + </p> + <p> + The commandant did not come to dinner as usual. The evening passed + heavily; their hearts were full of uncertainty. + </p> + <p> + “We miss our merry, spirited companion,” said the baroness with a grim + look at Rose. Both young ladies assented with ludicrous eagerness. + </p> + <p> + That night Rose came and slept with Josephine, and more than once she + awoke with a start and seized Josephine convulsively and held her tight. + </p> + <p> + Accused of egoism! at first her whole nature rose in arms against the + charge: but, after a while, coming as it did from so revered a person, it + forced her to serious self-examination. The poor girl said to herself, + “Mamma is a shrewd woman. Am I after all deceiving myself? Would she be + happy, and am I standing in the way?” In the morning she begged her sister + to walk with her in the park, so that they might be safe from + interruption. + </p> + <p> + There, she said sadly, she could not understand her own sister. “Why are + you so calm and cold, while am I in tortures of anxiety? Have you made + some resolve and not confided it to your Rose?” + </p> + <p> + “No, love,” was the reply; “I am scarce capable of a resolution; I am a + mere thing that drifts.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me put it in other words, then. How will this end?” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to marry Monsieur Raynal, then? answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I should not wonder if he were to marry ME.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said ‘no.’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I said ‘no’ once.” + </p> + <p> + “And don’t you mean to say it again, and again, and again, till kingdom + come?” + </p> + <p> + “What is the use? you heard him say he would not desist any the more, and + I care too little about the matter to go on persisting, and persisting, + and persisting.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, if he goes on pestering, and pestering, and pestering?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he is like you, all energy, at all hours; but I have so little where + my heart is unconcerned: he seems, too, to have a wish! I have none either + way, and my conscience says ‘marry him!’” + </p> + <p> + “Your conscience say marry one man when you love another?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid! Rose, I love no one: I HAVE loved; but now my heart is + dead and silent; only my conscience says, ‘You are the cause of all your + mother’s trouble; you are the cause that Beaurepaire was sold. Now you can + repair that mischief, and at the same time make a brave man happy, our + benefactor happy.’ It is a great temptation: I hardly know why I said ‘no’ + at all; surprise, perhaps—or to please you, pretty one.” + </p> + <p> + Rose groaned: “Are you then worth so little that you would throw yourself + away on a man who does not love you, nor want you, and is quite as happy + single?” + </p> + <p> + “No; not happy; he is only stout-hearted and good, and therefore content; + and he is a character that it would be easy—in short, I feel my + power here: I could make that man happy; he has nobody to write to even, + when he is away—poor fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall lose all patience,” cried Rose; “you are at your old trick, + thinking of everybody but yourself: I let you do it in trifles, but I love + you too well to permit it when the happiness of your whole life is at + stake. I must be satisfied on one point, or else this marriage shall never + take place: just answer me this; if Camille Dujardin stood on one side, + and Monsieur Raynal on the other, and both asked your hand, which would + you take?” + </p> + <p> + “That will never be. Whose? Not his whom I despise. Esteem might ripen + into love, but what must contempt end in?” + </p> + <p> + This reply gave Rose great satisfaction. To exhaust all awkward + contingencies, she said, “One question more, and I have done. Suppose + Camille should turn out—be not quite—what shall I say—inexcusable?” + </p> + <p> + At this unlucky gush, Josephine turned pale, then red, then pale again, + and cried eagerly, “Then all the world should not part us. Why torture me + with such a question? Ah! you have heard something.” And in a moment the + lava of passion burst wildly through its thin sheet of ice. “I was blind. + This is why you would save me from this unnatural marriage. You are + breaking the good news to me by degrees. There is no need. Quick—quick—let + me have it. I have waited three years; I am sick of waiting. Why don’t you + speak? Why don’t you tell me? Then I will tell YOU. He is alive—he + is well—he is coming. It was not he those soldiers saw; they were so + far off. How could they tell? They saw a uniform but not a face. Perhaps + he has been a prisoner, and so could not write; could not come: but he is + coming now. Why do you groan? why do you turn pale? ah! I see; I have once + more deceived myself. I was mad. He I love is still a traitor to France + and me, and I am wretched forever. Oh! that I were dead! oh! that I were + dead! No; don’t speak to me: never mind me; this madness will pass as it + has before, and leave me a dead thing among the living. Ah! sister, why + did you wake me from my dream? I was drifting so calmly, so peacefully, so + dead, and painless, drifting over the dead sea of the heart towards the + living waters of gratitude and duty. I was going to make more than one + worthy soul happy; and seeing them happy, I should have been content and + useful—what am I now?—and comforted other hearts, and died + joyful—and young. For God is good; he releases the meek and patient + from their burdens.” + </p> + <p> + With this came a flood of tears; and she leaned against a bough with her + forehead on her arm, bowed like a wounded lily. + </p> + <p> + “Accursed be that man’s name, and MY tongue if ever I utter it again in + your hearing!” cried Rose, weeping bitterly. “You are wiser than I, and + every way better. O my darling, dry your tears! Here he comes: look! + riding across the park.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose,” cried Josephine, hastily, “I leave all to you. Receive Monsieur + Raynal, and decline his offer if you think proper. It is you who love me + best. My mother would give me up for a house; for an estate, poor dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not give you for all the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it. I trust all to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but don’t go; stay and hear what I shall say.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; that poor man is intolerable to me NOW. Let me avoid his sight, + and think of his virtues.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was left alone, mistress of her sister’s fate. She put her head into + her hands and filled with anxiety and sudden doubt. + </p> + <p> + Like a good many more of us, she had been positive so long as the decision + did not rest with her. But with power comes responsibility, with + responsibility comes doubt. Easy to be an advocate in re incerta; hard to + be the judge. And she had but a few seconds to think in; for Raynal was at + hand. The last thing in her mind before he joined her was the terrible + power of that base Camille over her sister. She despaired of curing + Josephine, but a husband might. There’s such divinity doth hedge a husband + in innocent girls’ minds. + </p> + <p> + “Well, little lady,” began Raynal, “and how are you, and how is my + mother-in-law that is to be—or is not to be, as your sister pleases; + and how is SHE? have I frightened her away? There were two petticoats, and + now there is but one.” + </p> + <p> + “She left me to answer you.” + </p> + <p> + “All the worse for me: I am not to your taste.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say that,” said Rose, almost hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is no sacrilege. Not one in fifty likes me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do like you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why won’t you let me have your sister?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not quite decided that you shall not have her,” faltered poor + Rose. She murmured on, “I dare say you think me very unkind, very selfish; + but put yourself in my place. I love my sister as no man can ever love + her, I know: my heart has been one flesh and one soul with hers all my + life. A stranger comes and takes her away from me as if she was I don’t + know what; his portmanteau; takes her to Egypt, oh! oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + Raynal comforted her. + </p> + <p> + “What, do you think I am such a brute as to take that delicate creature + about fighting with me? why, the hot sand would choke her, to begin. No. + You don’t take my manoeuvre. I have no family; I try for a wife that will + throw me in a mother and sister. You will live all together the same as + before, of course; only you must let me make one of you when I am at home. + And how often will that be? Besides, I am as likely to be knocked on the + head in Egypt as not; you are worrying yourself for nothing, little lady.” + </p> + <p> + He uttered the last topic of consolation in a broad, hearty, hilarious + tone, like a trombone impregnated with cheerful views of fate. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” cried Rose: “and I will, for even I shall pray for you + now. What you will leave her at home? forgive me for not seeing all your + worth: of course I knew you were an angel, but I had no idea you were a + duck. You are just the man for my sister. She likes to obey: you are all + for commanding. So you see. Then she never thinks of herself; any other + man but you would impose on her good-nature; but you are too generous to + do that. So you see. Then she esteems you so highly. And one whom I esteem + (between you and me) has chosen you for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then say yes, and have done with it,” suggested the straightforward + soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I say ‘no?’ you will make one another happy some day: you are + both so good. Any other man but you would tear her from me; but you are + too just, too kind. Heaven will reward you. No! I will. I will give you + Josephine: ah, my dear brother-in-law, it is the most precious thing I + have to give in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, then. So that is settled. Hum! no, it is not quite; I forgot; + I have something for you to read; an anonymous letter. I got it this + morning; it says your sister has a lover.” + </p> + <p> + The letter ran to this tune: a friend who had observed the commandant’s + frequent visits at Beaurepaire wrote to warn him against traps. Both the + young ladies of Beaurepaire were doubtless at the new proprietor’s service + to pick and choose from. But for all that each of them had a lover, and + though these lovers had their orders to keep out of the way till monsieur + should be hooked, he might be sure that if he married either, the man of + her heart would come on the scene soon after, perhaps be present at the + wedding. + </p> + <p> + In short, it was one of those poisoned arrows a coarse vindictive coward + can shoot. + </p> + <p> + It was the first anonymous letter Rose had ever seen. It almost drove her + mad on the spot. Raynal was sorry he had let her see it. + </p> + <p> + She turned red and white by turns, and gasped for breath. + </p> + <p> + “Why am I not a man?—why don’t I wear a sword? I would pass it + through this caitiff’s heart. The cowardly slave!—the fiend! for who + but a fiend could slander an angel like my Josephine? Hooked? Oh! she will + never marry you if she sees this.” + </p> + <p> + “Then don’t let her see it: and why take it to heart like that? I don’t + trust to the word of a man who owns that his story is a thing he dares not + sign his name to; at all events, I shall not put his word against yours. + But it is best to understand one another in time. I am a plain man, but + not a soft one. I should not be an easygoing husband like some I see + about: I’d have no wasps round my honey; if my wife took a lover I would + not lecture THE WOMAN—what is the use?—I’d kill THE MAN then + and there, in-doors or out, as I would kill a snake. If she took another, + I’d send him after the first, and so on till one killed me.” + </p> + <p> + “And serve the wretches right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but for my own sake I don’t choose to marry a woman that loves any + other man. So tell me the plain truth; come.” + </p> + <p> + Rose turned chill in her inside. “I have no lover,” she stammered. “I have + a young fool that comes and teases me: but it is no secret. He is away, + but why? he is on a sickbed, poor little fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “But your sister? She could not have a lover unknown to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I defy her. No, sir; I have not seen her speak three words to any young + man except Monsieur Riviere this three years past.” + </p> + <p> + “That is enough;” and he tore the letter quietly to atoms. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose saw she could afford a little more candor. “Understand me; I + can’t speak of what happened when I was a child. But if ever she had a + girlish attachment, he has not followed it up, or surely I should have + seen something of him all these years.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Oh! as for flirtations, let them pass: a lovely girl does not + grow up without one or two whispering some nonsense into her ear. Why, I + myself should have flirted no doubt; but I never had the time. Bonaparte + gives you time to eat and drink, but not to sleep or flirt, and that + reminds me I have fifty miles to ride, so good-by, sister-in-law, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, brother-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + Left alone, Rose had some misgivings. She had equivocated with one whose + upright, candid nature ought to have protected him: but an enemy had + accused Josephine; and it came so natural to shield her. “Did he really + think I would expose my own sister?” said she to herself, angrily. Was not + this anger secret self-discontent? + </p> + <p> + “Well, love,” said Josephine, demurely, “have you dismissed him?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine smiled feebly. “It is easy to say ‘say no;’ but it is not so + easy to say ‘no,’ especially when you feel you ought to say ‘yes,’ and + have no wish either way except to give pleasure to others.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not such skim milk as all that,” replied Rose: “I have always a + strong wish where you are concerned, and your happiness. I hesitated + whilst I was in doubt, but I doubt no longer: I have had a long talk with + him. He has shown me his whole heart: he is the best, the noblest of + creatures: he has no littleness or meanness. And then he is a thorough + man; I know that by his being the very opposite of a woman in his ways. + Now you are a thorough woman, and so you will suit one another to a T. I + have decided: so no more doubts, love; no more tears; no more disputes. We + are all of one mind, and I do think I have secured your happiness. It will + not come in a day, perhaps, but it will come. So then in one little + fortnight you marry Monsieur Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Josephine, “you have actually settled that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But are you sure I can make him as happy as he deserves?” + </p> + <p> + “Positive.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so too; still”— + </p> + <p> + “It is settled, dear,” said Rose soothingly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the comfort of that! you relieve me of a weight; you give me peace. I + shall have duties; I shall do some good in the world. They were all for it + but you before, were they not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and now I am strongest for it of them all. Josephine, it is + settled.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked at her for a moment in silence, then said eagerly, “Bless + you, dear Rose; you have saved your sister;” then, after a moment, in a + very different voice, “O Camille! Camille! why have you deserted me?” + </p> + <p> + And with this she fell to sobbing terribly. Rose wept on her neck, but + said nothing. She too was a woman, and felt that this was the last + despairing cry of love giving up a hopeless struggle. + </p> + <p> + They sat twined together in silence till Jacintha came to tell them it was + close upon dinner-time; so then they hastened to dry their tears and wash + their red eyes, for fear their mother should see what they had been at, + and worry herself. + </p> + <p> + “Well, mademoiselle, these two consent; but what do you say? for after + all, it is you I am courting, and not them. Have you the courage to + venture on a rough soldier like me?” + </p> + <p> + This delicate question was put point-blank before the three ladies. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” replied Josephine timidly, “I will be as frank, as straightforward + as you are. I thank you for the honor you do me.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal looked perplexed. + </p> + <p> + “And does that mean ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” + </p> + <p> + “Which you please,” said Josephine, hanging her sweet head. + </p> + <p> + The wedding was fixed for that day fortnight. The next morning wardrobes + were ransacked. The silk, muslin, and lace of their prosperous days were + looked out: grave discussions were held over each work of art. Rose was + active, busy, fussy. The baroness threw in the weight of her judgment and + experience. + </p> + <p> + Josephine managed to smile whenever either Rose or the baroness looked at + all fixedly at her. + </p> + <p> + So glided the peaceful days. So Josephine drifted towards the haven of + wedlock. + </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> + At Bayonne, a garrison town on the south frontier of France, two sentinels + walked lethargically, crossing and recrossing before the governor’s house. + Suddenly their official drowsiness burst into energy; for a pale, grisly + man, in rusty, defaced, dirty, and torn regimentals, was walking into the + courtyard as if it belonged to him. The sentinels lowered their muskets, + and crossed them with a clash before the gateway. + </p> + <p> + The scarecrow did not start back. He stopped and looked down with a smile + at the steel barrier the soldiers had improvised for him, then drew + himself a little up, carried his hand carelessly to his cap, which was + nearly in two, and gave the name of an officer in the French army. + </p> + <p> + If you or I, dressed like a beggar who years ago had stolen regimentals + and worn them down to civil garments, had addressed these soldiers with + these very same words, the bayonets would have kissed closer, or perhaps + the points been turned against our sacred and rusty person: but there is a + freemasonry of the sword. The light, imperious hand that touched that + battered cap, and the quiet clear tone of command told. The sentinels + slowly recovered their pieces, but still looked uneasy and doubtful in + their minds. The battered one saw this, and gave a sort of lofty smile; he + turned up his cuffs and showed his wrists, and drew himself still higher. + </p> + <p> + The sentinels shouldered their pieces sharp, then dropped them + simultaneously with a clatter and ring upon the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “Pass, captain.” + </p> + <p> + The rusty figure rang the governor’s bell. A servant came and eyed him + with horror and contempt. He gave his name, and begged to see the + governor. The servant left him in the hall, and went up-stairs to tell his + master. At the name the governor reflected, then frowned, then bade his + servant reach him down a certain book. He inspected it. “I thought so: any + one with him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, your excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “Load my pistols, put them on the table, show him in, and then order a + guard to the door.” + </p> + <p> + The governor was a stern veteran with a powerful brow, a shaggy eyebrow, + and a piercing eye. He never rose, but leaned his chin on his hand, and + his elbow on a table that stood between them, and eyed his visitor very + fixedly and strangely. “We did not expect to see you on this side the + Pyrenees,” said he gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I myself, governor.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you come for?” + </p> + <p> + “A suit of regimentals, and money to take me to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose, instead of that, I turn out a corporal’s guard, and bid them + shoot you in the courtyard?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be the drollest thing you ever did, all things considered,” said + the other coolly, but bitterly. + </p> + <p> + The governor looked for the book he had lately consulted, found the page, + handed it to the rusty officer, and watched him keenly: the blood rushed + all over his face, and his lip trembled; but his eye dwelt stern yet + sorrowful on the governor. + </p> + <p> + “I have read your book, now read mine.” He drew off his coat and showed + his wrists and arms, blue and waled. “Can you read that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better for you: Spanish fetters, general.” He showed a white scar + on his shoulder. “Can you read that? This is what I cut out of it,” and he + handed the governor a little round stone as big and almost as regular as a + musket-ball. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! that could hardly have been fired from a French musket.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you read this?” and he showed him a long cicatrix on his other arm. + </p> + <p> + “Knife I think,” said the governor. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, sir: Spanish knife. Can you read this?” and opening his + bosom he showed a raw wound on his breast. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the devil!” cried the governor. + </p> + <p> + The wounded man put his rusty coat on again, and stood erect, and haughty, + and silent. + </p> + <p> + The general eyed him, and saw his great spirit shining through this man. + The more he looked the less could the scarecrow veil the hero from his + practised eye. He said there must be some mistake, or else he was in his + dotage; after a moment’s hesitation, he added, “Be seated, if you please, + and tell me what you have been doing all these years.” + </p> + <p> + “Suffering.” + </p> + <p> + “Not all the time, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Without intermission.” + </p> + <p> + “But what? suffering what?” + </p> + <p> + “Cold, hunger, darkness, wounds, solitude, sickness, despair, prison, all + that man can suffer.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! a man would be dead at that rate before this.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have died a dozen deaths but for one thing; I had promised her + to live.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. Then the old soldier said gravely, but more kindly, to + the young one, “Tell me the facts, captain” (the first time he had + acknowledged his visitor’s military rank). + </p> + <p> + An hour had scarce elapsed since the rusty figure was stopped by the + sentinels at the gate, when two glittering officers passed out under the + same archway, followed by a servant carrying a furred cloak. The sentinels + presented arms. The elder of these officers was the governor: the younger + was the late scarecrow, in a brand-new uniform belonging to the governor’s + son. He shone out now in his true light; the beau ideal of a patrician + soldier; one would have said he had been born with a sword by his side and + drilled by nature, so straight and smart, yet easy he was in every + movement. He was like a falcon, eye and all, only, as it were, down at the + bottom of the hawk’s eye lay a dove’s eye. That compound and varying eye + seemed to say, I can love, I can fight: I can fight, I can love, as few of + you can do either. + </p> + <p> + The old man was trying to persuade him to stay at Bayonne, until his wound + should be cured. + </p> + <p> + “No, general, I have other wounds to cure of longer standing than this + one.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, promise me to lay up at Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “General, I shall stay an hour at Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “An hour in Paris! Well, at least call at the War Office and present this + letter.” + </p> + <p> + That same afternoon, wrapped in the governor’s furred cloak, the young + officer lay at his full length in the coupe of the diligence, the whole of + which the governor had peremptorily demanded for him, and rolled day and + night towards Paris. + </p> + <p> + He reached it worn with fatigue and fevered by his wound, but his spirit + as indomitable as ever. He went to the War Office with the governor’s + letter. It seemed to create some little sensation; one functionary came + and said a polite word to him, then another. At last to his infinite + surprise the minister himself sent down word he wished to see him; the + minister put several questions to him, and seemed interested in him and + touched by his relation. + </p> + <p> + “I think, captain, I shall have to send to you: where do you stay in + Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere, monsieur; I leave Paris as soon as I can find an easy-going + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “But General Bretaux tells me you are wounded.” + </p> + <p> + “Not dangerously.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, captain, but is this prudent? is it just to yourself and your + friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I owe it to those who perhaps think me dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You can write to them.” + </p> + <p> + “I grudge so great, so sacred a joy to a letter. No! after all I have + suffered I claim to be the one to tell her I have kept my word: I promised + to live, and I live.” + </p> + <p> + “HER? then I say no more, only tell me what road you take.” + </p> + <p> + “The road to Brittany.” + </p> + <p> + As the young officer was walking his horse by the roadside about a league + and a half from Paris, he heard a clatter behind him, and up galloped an + aide-de-camp and drew up alongside, bringing his horse nearly on his + haunches. + </p> + <p> + He handed him a large packet sealed with the arms of France. The other + tore it open; and there was his brevet as colonel. His cheek flushed and + his eye glittered with joy. The aide-de-camp next gave him a parcel: “Your + epaulets, colonel! We hear you are going into the wilds where epaulets + don’t grow. You are to join the army of the Rhine as soon as your wound is + well.” + </p> + <p> + “Wherever my country calls me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your address, then, colonel, that we may know where to put our finger on + a tried soldier when we want one.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Beaurepaire? I never heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You never heard of Beaurepaire? it is in Brittany, forty-five leagues + from Paris, forty-three leagues and a half from here.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Health and honor to you, colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “The same to you, lieutenant; or a soldier’s death.” + </p> + <p> + The new colonel read the precious document across his horse’s mane, and + then he was going to put one of the epaulets on his right shoulder, bare + at present: but he reflected. + </p> + <p> + “No; she should make him a colonel with her own dear hand. He put them in + his pocket. He would not even look at them till she had seen them. Oh, how + happy he was not only to come back to her alive, but to come back to her + honored.” + </p> + <p> + His wound smarted, his limbs ached, but no pain past or present could lay + hold of his mind. In his great joy he remembered past suffering and felt + present pain—yet smiled. Only every now and then he pined for wings + to shorten the weary road. + </p> + <p> + He was walking his horse quietly, drooping a little over his saddle, when + another officer well mounted came after him and passed him at a hand + gallop with one hasty glance at his uniform, and went tearing on like one + riding for his life. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I know that face?” said Dujardin. + </p> + <p> + He cudgelled his memory, and at last he remembered it was the face of an + old comrade. At least it strongly reminded him of one Jean Raynal who had + saved his life in the Arno, when they were lieutenants together. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was certainly Raynal, only bronzed by service in some hot country. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” thought Camille; “I suppose I am more changed than he is; for he + certainly did not recognize me at all. Now I wonder what that fellow has + been doing all this time. What a hurry he was in! a moment more and I + should have hailed him. Perhaps I may fall in with him at the next town.” + </p> + <p> + He touched his horse with the spur, and cantered gently on, for trotting + shook him more than he could bear. Even when he cantered he had to press + his hand against his bosom, and often with the motion a bitterer pang than + usual came and forced the water from his eyes; and then he smiled. His + great love and his high courage made this reply to the body’s anguish. And + still his eyes looked straight forward as at some object in the distant + horizon, while he came gently on, his hand pressed to his bosom, his head + drooping now and then, smiling patiently, upon the road to Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + Oh! if anybody had told him that in five days his Josephine was to be + married; and that the bronzed comrade, who had just galloped past him, was + to marry her! + </p> + <p> + At Beaurepaire they were making and altering wedding-dresses. Rose was + excited, and even Josephine took a calm interest. Dress never goes for + nothing with her sex. The chairs and tables were covered, and the floor + was littered. The baroness was presiding over the rites of vanity, and + telling them what she wore at her wedding, under Louis XV., with strict + accuracy, and what we men should consider a wonderful effort of memory, + when the Commandant Raynal came in like a cannon-ball, without any + warning, and stood among them in a stiff, military attitude. Exclamations + from all the party, and then a kind greeting, especially from the + baroness. + </p> + <p> + “We have been so dull without you, Jean.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have missed you once or twice, mother-in-law, I can tell you. Well, + I have got bad news; but you must consider we live in a busy time. + To-morrow I start for Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + Loud ejaculations from the baroness and Rose. Josephine put down her work + quietly. + </p> + <p> + The baroness sighed deeply, and the tears came into her eyes. “Oh, you + must not be down-hearted, old lady,” shouted Raynal. “Why, I am as likely + to come back from Egypt as not. It is an even chance, to say the least.” + </p> + <p> + This piece of consolation completed the baroness’s unhappiness. She really + had conceived a great affection for Raynal, and her heart had been set on + the wedding. + </p> + <p> + “Take away all that finery, girls,” said she bitterly; “we shall not want + it for years. I shall not be alive when he comes home from Egypt. I never + had a son—only daughters—the best any woman ever had; but a + mother is not complete without a son, and I shall never live to have one + now.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate General Bonaparte,” said Rose viciously. + </p> + <p> + “Hate my general?” groaned Raynal, looking down with a sort of + superstitious awe and wonder at the lovely vixen. “Hate the best soldier + the world ever saw?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I care for his soldiership? He has put off our wedding. For how + many years did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he has put it on.” + </p> + <p> + In answer to the astonished looks this excited, he explained that the + wedding was to have been in a week, but now it must be to-morrow at ten + o’clock. + </p> + <p> + The three ladies set up their throats together. “Tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow. Why, what do you suppose I left Paris for yesterday? left my + duties even.” + </p> + <p> + “What, monsieur?” asked Josephine, timidly, “did you ride all that way, + and leave your duties MERELY TO MARRY ME?” and she looked a little + pleased. + </p> + <p> + “You are worth a great deal more trouble than that,” said Raynal simply. + “Besides, I had passed my word, and I always keep my word.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” said Josephine, a little proudly. “I will not go from it now, + if you insist; but I confess to you, that such a proposal staggers me; so + sudden—no preliminaries—no time to reflect; in short, there + are so many difficulties that I must request you to reconsider the + matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Difficulties,” shouted Raynal with merry disdain; “there are none, unless + you sit down and make them; we do more difficult things than this every + day of our lives: we passed the bridge of Arcola in thirteen minutes; and + we had not the consent of the enemy, as we have yours—have we not?” + </p> + <p> + Her only reply was a look at her mother, to which the baroness replied by + a nod; then turning to Raynal, “This empressement is very flattering; but + I see no possibility: there is an etiquette we cannot altogether defy: + there are preliminaries before a daughter of Beaurepaire can become a + wife.” + </p> + <p> + “There used to be all that, madam,” laughed Raynal, putting her down + good-humoredly; “but it was in the days when armies came out and touched + their caps to one another, and went back into winter quarters. Then the + struggle was who could go slowest; now the fight is who can go fastest. + Time and Bonaparte wait for nobody; and ladies and other strong places are + taken by storm, not undermined a foot a month as under Noah Quartorze: let + me cut this short, as time is short.” + </p> + <p> + He then drew a little plan of a wedding campaign. “The carriages will be + here at 9 A.M.,” said he; “they will whisk us down to the mayor’s house by + a quarter to ten: Picard, the notary, meets us there with the marriage + contract, to save time; the contract signed, the mayor will do the + marriage at quick step out of respect for me—half an hour—quarter + past ten; breakfast in the same house an hour and a quarter:—we + mustn’t hurry a wedding breakfast—then ten minutes or so for the old + fogies to waste in making speeches about our virtues—my watch will + come out—my charger will come round—I rise from the table—embrace + my dear old mother—kiss my wife’s hand—into the saddle—canter + to Paris—roll to Toulon—sail to Egypt. But I shall leave a + wife and a mother behind me: they will both send me a kind word now and + then; and I will write letters to you all from Egypt, and when I come + home, my wife and I will make acquaintance, and we will all be happy + together: and if I am killed out there, don’t you go and fret your poor + little hearts about it; it is a soldier’s lot sooner or later. Besides, + you will find I have taken care of you; nobody shall come and turn you out + of your quarters, even though Jean Raynal should be dead; I have got to + meet Picard at Riviere’s on that very business—I am off.” + </p> + <p> + He was gone as brusquely as he came. + </p> + <p> + “Mother! sister!” cried Josephine, “help me to love this man.” + </p> + <p> + “You need no help,” cried the baroness, with enthusiasm, “not love him, we + should all be monsters.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal came to supper looking bright and cheerful. “No more work to-day. I + have nothing to do but talk; fancy that.” + </p> + <p> + This evening Josephine de Beaurepaire, who had been silent and thoughtful, + took a quiet opportunity, and purred in his ear, “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” rang the trombone. + </p> + <p> + “Am I not to go to Egypt?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine drew back at this brusque reply like a sensitive plant. But she + returned to the attack. + </p> + <p> + “But is it not a wife’s duty to be by her husband’s side to look after his + comfort—to console him when others vex him—to soothe him when + he is harassed?” + </p> + <p> + “Her first duty is to obey him.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when I am your husband, I shall bid you stay with your mother and + sister while I go to Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall obey you.” + </p> + <p> + He told her bluntly he thought none the worse of her for making the offer; + but should not accept it. + </p> + <p> + Camille Dujardin slept that night at a roadside inn about twelve miles + from Beaurepaire, and not more than six from the town where the wedding + was to take place next day. + </p> + <p> + It was a close race. + </p> + <p> + And the racers all unconscious of each other, yet spurred impartially by + events that were now hurrying to a climax. + </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> + The next day at sharp nine two carriages were at the door. + </p> + <p> + But the ladies were not ready. Thus early in the campaign did they throw + all into disorder. For so nicely had Raynal timed the several events that + this threw him all into confusion. He stamped backwards and forwards, and + twisted his mustaches, and swore. This enforced unpunctuality was a new + torture to him. Jacintha told them he was angry, and that made them + nervous and flurried, and their fingers strayed wildly among hooks and + eyes, and all sorts of fastenings; they were not ready till half-past + nine. Conscious they deserved a scolding, they sent Josephine down first + to mollify. She dawned upon the honest soldier so radiant, so dazzling in + her snowy dress, with her coronet of pearls (an heirloom), and her bridal + veil parted, and the flush of conscious beauty on her cheek, that instead + of scolding her, he actually blurted out, “Well! by St. Denis it was worth + waiting half an hour for.” + </p> + <p> + He recovered a quarter of an hour by making the driver gallop. Then + occasional shrieks issued from the carriage that held the baroness. That + ancient lady feared annihilation: she had not come down from a galloping + age. + </p> + <p> + They drove into the town, drew up at the mayor’s house, were received with + great ceremony by that functionary and Picard, and entered the house. + </p> + <p> + When their carriages rattled into the street from the north side, Colonel + Dujardin had already entered it from the south, and was riding at a foot’s + pace along the principal street. The motion of his horse now shook him + past endurance. He dismounted at an inn a few doors from the mayor’s + house, and determined to do the rest of the short journey on foot. The + landlord bustled about him obsequiously. “You are faint, colonel; you have + travelled too far. Let me order you an excellent breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I want a carriage; have you one?” + </p> + <p> + “I have two; but, unluckily, they are both engaged for the day, and by + people of distinction. Commandant Raynal is married to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I wish him joy,” said Camille, heartily. He then asked the landlord + to open the window, as he felt rather faint. The landlord insisted on + breakfast, and Camille sat down to an omelet and a bottle of red wine. + Then he lay awhile near the window, revived by the air, and watched the + dear little street he had not seen for years. He felt languid, but happy, + celestially happy. + </p> + <p> + She was a few doors from him, and neither knew it. + </p> + <p> + A pen was put into her white hand, and in another moment she had signed a + marriage contract. + </p> + <p> + “Now to the church,” cried the baroness, gayly. To get to the church, they + must pass by the window Camille reclined at. + </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> + “Oh! there’s no time for that,” said Raynal. And as the baroness looked + horrified and amazed, Picard explained: “The state marries its citizens + now, with reason: since marriage is a civil contract.” + </p> + <p> + “Marriage a civil contract!” repeated the baroness. “What, is it then no + longer one of the holy sacraments? What horrible impiety shall we come to + next? Unhappy France! Such a contract would never be a marriage in my + eyes: and what would become of an union the Church had not blessed?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Picard, “the Church can bless it still; but it is only the + mayor here that can DO it.” + </p> + <p> + All this time Josephine was blushing scarlet, and looking this way and + that, with a sort of instinctive desire to fly and hide, no matter where, + for a week or so. + </p> + <p> + “Haw! haw! haw!” roared Raynal; “here is a pretty mother. Wants her + daughter to be unlawfully married in a church, instead of lawfully in a + house. Give me the will!” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, mother-in-law: I have left Beaurepaire to my lawful wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise,” put in Picard, “in case of death, it would pass to his + heir-at-law.” + </p> + <p> + “And HE would turn you all out, and that does not suit me. Now there + stands the only man who can make mademoiselle my LAWFUL wife. So quick + march, monsieur the mayor, for time and Bonaparte wait for no man.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay a minute, young people,” said the mayor. “We should soothe + respectable prejudices, not crush them. Madam, I am at least as old as + you, and have seen many changes. I perfectly understand your feelings.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur! oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Calm yourself, dear madam; the case is not so bad as you think. It is + perfectly true that in republican France the civil magistrate alone can + bind French citizens in lawful wedlock. But this does not annihilate the + religious ceremony. You can ask the Church’s blessing on my work; and be + assured you are not the only one who retains that natural prejudice. Out + of every ten couples that I marry, four or five go to church afterwards + and perform the ancient ceremonies. And they do well. For there before the + altar the priest tells them what it is not my business to dilate upon—the + grave moral and religious duties they have undertaken along with this + civil contract. The state binds, but the Church still blesses, and piously + assents to that”— + </p> + <p> + “From which she has no power to dissent.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Picard, do you consider it polite to interrupt the chief + magistrate of the place while he is explaining the law to a citizen?” + </p> + <p> + (This closed Picard.) + </p> + <p> + “I married a daughter last year,” continued the worthy mayor. + </p> + <p> + “What, after this fashion?” + </p> + <p> + “I married her myself, as I will marry yours, if you will trust me with + her. And after I have made them one, there is nothing to prevent them + adjourning to the church.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” cried Raynal, “there are two things to prevent it: a + couple that wait for no man: Time and Bonaparte. Come, sir; marry us, and + have done with it.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor assented. He invited Josephine to stand before him. She trembled + and wept a little: Rose clung to her and wept, and the good mayor married + the parties off hand. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked the baroness; “it is terribly soon done.” + </p> + <p> + “It is done effectively, madam,” said the mayor, with a smile. “Permit me + to tell you that his Holiness the Pope cannot undo my work.” + </p> + <p> + Picard grinned slyly, and whispered something into Raynal’s ear. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! indeed,” said Raynal aloud and carelessly. “Come, Madame Raynal, to + breakfast: follow us, the rest of you.” + </p> + <p> + They paired, and followed the bride and bridegroom into the + breakfast-room. + </p> + <p> + The light words Picard whispered were five in number. + </p> + <p> + Now if the mayor had not snubbed Picard just before, he would have uttered + those jocose but true words aloud. There was no particular reason why he + should not. And if he had,—The threads of the web of life, how + subtle they are! The finest cotton of Manchester, the finer meshes of the + spider, seem three-inch cables by comparison with those moral gossamers + which vulgar eyes cannot see at all, the “somethings, nothings,” on which + great fates have hung. + </p> + <p> + It was a cheerful breakfast, thanks to Raynal, who would be in high + spirits, and would not allow a word of regret from any one. Madame Raynal + sat by his side, looking up at him every now and then with innocent + admiration. A merry wedding breakfast. + </p> + <p> + But if men and women could see through the walls of houses! + </p> + <p> + Two doors off sat the wounded colonel alone, recruiting the small remnant + of his sore tried strength, that he might struggle on to Beaurepaire, and + lose in one moment years of separation, pain, prison, anguish, martyrdom, + in one great gush of joy without compare. + </p> + <p> + The wedding breakfast was ended. The time was drawing near to part. There + was a silence. It was broken by Madame Raynal. She asked Raynal very + timidly if he had reflected. “On what?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “About taking me to Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “No: I have not given it a thought since I said ‘no.’” + </p> + <p> + “Yet permit me to say that it is my duty to be by your side, my husband.” + And she colored at this word, being the first time she had ever used it. + Raynal was silent. She murmured on, “I would not be an encumbrance to you, + sir: I should not be useless. Gentlemen, I could add more to his comfort + than he gives me credit for.” + </p> + <p> + Warm assent of the mayor and notary to this hint. + </p> + <p> + “I give you credit for being an angel,” said Raynal warmly. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. Rose was trembling, her fork shaking in her poor little + hand. + </p> + <p> + She cast a piteous glance at him. He saw it. + </p> + <p> + “You shall go with me next time,” said he. “Let us speak of it no more.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine bowed her head. “At least give me something to do for you while + you are away. Tell me what I can do for my absent friend to show my + gratitude, my regard, my esteem.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let me think. I saw a plain gray dress at Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur. My gray silk, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “I like that dress.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you? Then the moment I reach home after losing you I shall put it on, + and it shall be my constant wear. I see; you are right; gray becomes a + wife whose husband is not dead, but is absent, and alas! in hourly + danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Now look at that!” cried Raynal to the company. “That is her all over: + she can see six meanings where another would see but one. I never thought + of that, I swear. I like modest colors, that is all. My mother used to be + all for modest wives wearing modest colors.” + </p> + <p> + “I am of her mind, sir. Is there nothing more difficult you will be so + good as give me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “No; there is only one order more, and that will be easier still to such a + woman as you. I commit to your care the name of Raynal. It is not so high + a name as yours, but it is as honest. I am proud of it: I am jealous of + it. I shall guard it for you in Egypt: you guard it in France for me.” + </p> + <p> + “With my life,” cried Josephine, lifting her eyes and her hand to heaven. + </p> + <p> + Soon after this Raynal ordered his charger. + </p> + <p> + The baroness began to cry. “The young people may hope to see you again,” + said she; “but there are two chances against your poor old mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Courage, mother!” cried the stout soldier. “No, no; you won’t play me + such a trick: once is enough for that game.” + </p> + <p> + “Brother!” cried Rose, “do not go without kissing your little sister, who + loves you and thanks you.” He kissed her. “Bravo, generous soul!” she + cried, with her arms round his neck. “God protect you, and send you back + safe to us!” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” cried all present by one impulse, even the cold notary. + </p> + <p> + Raynal’s mustache quivered. He kissed Josephine hastily on the brow, the + baroness on both cheeks; shook the men’s hands warmly but hastily, and + strode out without looking behind him. He was moved for once. + </p> + <p> + They all followed him to the door of the house. He was tightening his + horse’s girths. He flung himself with all the resolution of his steel + nature into the saddle, and, with one grand wave of his cocked hat to the + tearful group, he spurred away for Egypt. + </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 baroness took the doctor a-shopping; she must buy Rose a gray silk. In + doing this she saw many other tempting things. I say no more. + </p> + <p> + But the young ladies went up to Beaurepaire in the other carriage, for + Josephine wished to avoid the gaze of the town, and get home and be quiet. + The driver went very fast. He had drunk the bride’s health at the mayor’s, + item the bridegroom’s, the bridesmaid’s, the mayor’s, etc., and “a spur in + the head is worth two in the heel,” says the proverb. The sisters leaned + back on the soft cushions, and enjoyed the smooth and rapid motion once so + familiar to them, so rare of late. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose took her sister gently to task for having offered to go to + Egypt. She had forgotten her poor sister. + </p> + <p> + “No, love,” replied Josephine, “did you not see I dared not look towards + you? I love you better than all the world; but this was my duty. I was his + wife: I had no longer a feeble inclination and a feeble disinclination to + decide between, but right on one side, wrong on the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know where your ladyship’s strength lies: my force is—in—my + inclinations.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Rose,” continued Josephine thoughtfully, “duty is a great comfort: + it is so tangible; it is something to lay hold of for life or death; a + strong tower for the weak but well disposed.” + </p> + <p> + Rose assented, and they were silent a minute; and when she spoke again it + was to own she loved a carriage. “How fast we glide! Now lean back with + me, and take my hand, and as we glide shut your eyes and think: whisper me + all your feelings, every one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Josephine, half closing her eyes, “in the first place I + feel a great calm, a heavenly calm. My fate is decided. No more suspense. + My duties are clear. I have a husband I am proud of. There is no perfidy + with him, no deceit, no disingenuousness, no shade. He is a human sun. He + will make me a better, truer woman, and I him a happier man. Yes, is it + not nice to think that great and strong as he is I can teach him a + happiness he knows not as yet?” And she smiled with the sense of her + delicate power, but said no more; for she was not the one to talk much + about herself. But Rose pressed her. “Yes, go on, dear,” she said, “I seem + to see your pretty little thoughts rising out of your heart like a + bubbling fountain: go on.” + </p> + <p> + Thus encouraged, Josephine thought on aloud, “And then, gratitude!” said + she. “I have heard it said, or read it somewhere, that gratitude is a + burden: I cannot understand that sentiment; why, to me gratitude is a + delight, gratitude is a passion. It is the warmest of all the tender + feelings I have for dear Monsieur Raynal. I feel it glow here, in my + bosom. I think I shall love him as I ought long before he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + “BEFORE?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” murmured Josephine, her eyes still half closed. “His virtues will + always be present to me. His little faults of manner will not be in sight. + Good Raynal! The image of those great qualities I revere so, perhaps + because I fail in them myself, will be before my mind; and ere he comes + home I shall love him dearly. I’ll tell you one reason why I wished to go + home at once was—no—you must guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess?” said Rose, contemptuously. “As if I did not see it was to put on + your gray silk.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine smiled assent, and said almost with fervor, “Good Raynal! I feel + prouder of his honest name than of our noble one. And I am so calm, dear, + thanks to you, so tranquil; so pleased that my mother’s mind is at rest, + so convinced all is for the best, so contented with my own lot; so hap—py.” + </p> + <p> + A gentle tear stole from beneath her long lashes. Rose looked at her + wistfully: then laid her cheek to hers. They leaned back hand in hand, + placid and silent. + </p> + <p> + The carriage glided fast. Beaurepaire was almost in sight. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Josephine’s hand tightened on Rose’s, and she sat up in the + carriage like a person awakened from a strange dream. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Some one in uniform.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that all? Ah! you thought it was a message from Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no! on foot—walking very slowly. Coming this way, too. Coming + this way!” and she became singularly restless, and looked round in the + carriage. It was one of those old chariots with no side windows, but a + peep hole at the back. This aperture, however, had a flap over it. + Josephine undid the flap with nimble though agitated fingers; and saw—nothing. + The road had taken a turn. “Oh,” said Rose, carelessly, “for that matter + the roads are full of soldiers just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but not of officers on foot.” + </p> + <p> + Rose gave her such a look, and for the first time this many a day spoke + sternly to her, and asked her what on earth she had to do with uniforms or + officers except one, the noblest in the world, her husband. + </p> + <p> + A month ago that word was almost indifferent to Josephine, or rather she + uttered it with a sort of mild complacency. Now she started at it, and it + struck chill upon her. She did not reply, however, and the carriage rolled + on. + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to be dragging himself along.” This was the first word + Josephine had spoken for some time. “Oh, did he?” replied Rose carelessly; + “well, let him. Here we are, at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of it,” said Josephine, “very glad.” + </p> + <p> + On reaching Beaurepaire she wanted to go up-stairs at once and put on her + gray gown. But the day was so delightful that Rose begged her to stroll in + the Pleasaunce for half an hour and watch for their mother’s return. She + consented in an absent way, and presently began to walk very fast, + unconscious of her companion. Rose laid a hand upon her playfully to + moderate her, and found her skin burning. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter?” said she, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, nothing,” was the sharp reply. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a fretful tone; and how excited you look, and feel too. Well, I + thought you were unnaturally calm after such an event.” + </p> + <p> + “I only saw his back,” said Josephine. “Did not you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “See who? Oh, that tiresome officer. Why, how much more are we to hear + about him? I don’t believe there WAS one.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a cocked hat came in sight, bobbing up and down above the + palings that divided the park from the road. Josephine pointed to it + without a word. + </p> + <p> + Rose got a little cross at being practically confuted, and said coldly, + “Come, let us go in; the only cocked hat we can see is on the way to + Paris.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine assented eagerly. But she had not taken two steps towards the + house ere she altered her mind, and said she felt faint, she wanted air; + no, she should stay out a little longer. “Look, Rose,” said she, in a + strangely excited way, “what a shame! They put all manner of rubbish into + this dear old tree: I will have it all turned out.” And she looked with + feigned interest into the tree: but her eyes seemed turned inward. + </p> + <p> + Rose gave a cry of surprise. “He is waving his hat to me! What on earth + does that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he takes you for me,” said Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “IT IS HE! I knew his figure at a glance.” And she blushed and trembled + with joy; she darted behind the tree and peered round at him unseen: + turning round a moment she found Rose at her back pale and stern. She + looked at her, and said with terrible simplicity, “Ah, Rose, I forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad, Josephine? Into the house this moment; if it IS he, I will + receive him and send him about his business.” + </p> + <p> + But Josephine stood fascinated, and pale as ashes; for now the cocked hat + stopped, and a pale face with eyes whose eager fire shone even at that + distance, rose above the palings. Josephine crouched behind Rose, and + gasped out, “Something terrible is coming, terrible! terrible!” + </p> + <p> + “Say something hateful,” said Rose, trembling in her turn, but only with + anger. “The heartless selfish traitor! He never notices you till you are + married to the noblest of mankind; and then he comes here directly to ruin + your peace. No; I have altered my mind. He shall not see you, of course; + but YOU shall hear HIM. I’ll soon make you know the wretch and loathe him + as I do. There, now he has turned the corner; hide in the oak while he is + out of sight. Hide, quick, quick.” Josephine obeyed mechanically; and + presently, through that very aperture whence her sister had smiled on her + lover she hissed out, in a tone of which one would not have thought her + capable, “Be wise, be shrewd; find out who is the woman that has seduced + him from me, and has brought two wretches to this. I tell you it is some + wicked woman’s doing. He loved me once.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so loud!—one word: you are a wife. Swear to me you will not let + him see you, come what may.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! never! never!” cried Josephine with terror. “I would rather die. When + you have heard what he has to say, then tell him I am dead. No, tell him I + adore my husband, and went to Egypt this day with him. Ah! would to God I + had!” + </p> + <p> + “Sh! sh!” + </p> + <p> + “Sh!” + </p> + <p> + Camille was at the little gate. + </p> + <p> + Rose stood still, and nerved herself in silence. Josephine panted in her + hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + Rose’s only thought now was to expose the traitor to her sister, and + restore her peace. She pretended not to see Camille till he was near her. + He came eagerly towards her, his pale face flushing with great joy, and + his eyes like diamonds. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine! It is not Josephine, after all,” said he. “Why, this must be + Rose, little Rose, grown up to a fine lady, a beautiful lady.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you come here for, sir?” asked Rose in a tone of icy + indifference. + </p> + <p> + “What do I come here for? is that the way to speak to me? but I am too + happy to mind. Dear Beaurepaire! do I see you once again!” + </p> + <p> + “And madame?” + </p> + <p> + “What madame?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Dujardin that is or was to be.” + </p> + <p> + “This is the first I have ever heard of her,” said Camille, gayly. + </p> + <p> + “This is odd, for we have heard all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you jesting?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “If I understand you right, you imply that I have broken faith with + Josephine?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you lie, Mademoiselle Rose de Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Insolent!” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is you who have insulted your sister as well as me. She was not + made to be deserted for meaner women. Come, mademoiselle, affront me, and + me alone, and you shall find me more patient. Oh! who would have thought + Beaurepaire would receive me thus?” + </p> + <p> + “It is your own fault. You never sent her a line for all these years.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how could I?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, the information you did not supply others did. We know that + you were seen in a Spanish village drinking between two guerillas.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Camille. + </p> + <p> + “An honest French soldier fired at you. Why, he told us so himself.” + </p> + <p> + “He told you true,” said Camille, sullenly. “The bullet grazed my hand; + see, here is the mark. Look!” She did look, and gave a little scream; but + recovering herself, said she wished it had gone through his heart. “Why + prolong this painful interview?” said she; “the soldier told us all.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt that,” said Camille. “Did he tell you that under the table I was + chained tight down to the chair I sat in? Did he tell you that my hand was + fastened to a drinking-horn, and my elbow to the table, and two fellows + sitting opposite me with pistols quietly covering me, ready to draw the + trigger if I should utter a cry? Did he tell you that I would have uttered + that cry and died at that table but for one thing, I had promised her to + live?” + </p> + <p> + “Not he; he told me nothing so incredible. Besides, what became of you all + these years? You are a double traitor, to your country and to her.” + </p> + <p> + Camille literally gasped for breath. “You are a most cruel young lady to + insult me so,” said he, and scalding tears forced themselves from his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Rose eyed him with merciless scorn. + </p> + <p> + He fought manfully against this weakness, with which his wound and his + fatigue had something to do, as well as Rose’s bitter words; and after a + gallant struggle he returned her her haughty stare, and addressed her + thus: “Mademoiselle, I feel myself blush, but it is for you I blush, not + for myself. This is what BECAME of me. I went out alone to explore; I fell + into an ambuscade; I shot one of the enemy, and pinked another, but my arm + being broken by a bullet, and my horse killed under me, the rascals got + me. They took me about, tried to make a decoy of me as I have told you, + and ended by throwing me into a dungeon. They loaded me with chains, too, + though the walls were ten feet thick, and the door iron, and bolted and + double-bolted outside. And there for months and years, in spite of wounds, + hunger, thirst, and all the tortures those cowards made me suffer, I + lived, because, Rose, I had promised some one at that gate there (and he + turned suddenly and pointed to it) that I would come back alive. At last, + one night, my jailer came to my cell drunk. I seized him by the throat and + throttled him till he was insensible; his keys unlocked my fetters, and + locked him in the cell, and I got safely outside. But there a sentinel saw + me, and fired at me. He missed me but ran after me, and caught me. You see + I was stiff, confined so long. He gave me a thrust of his bayonet; I flung + my heavy keys fiercely in his face; he staggered; I wrested his piece from + him, and disabled him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “I crossed the frontier in the night, and got to Bayonne; and thence, day + and night, to Paris. There I met a reward for all my anguish. They gave me + the epaulets of a colonel. See, here they are. France does not give these + to traitors, young lady.” He held them out to her in both hands. She eyed + them half stupidly; all her thoughts were on the oak-tree hard by. She + began to shudder. Camille was telling the truth. She felt that; she saw + it; and Josephine was hearing it. “Ay! look at them, you naughty girl,” + said Camille, trying to be jocose over it all with his poor trembling lip. + He went on to say that from the moment he had left dark Spain, and entered + fair France everybody was so kind, so sympathizing. “They felt for the + poor worn soldier coming back to his love. All but you, Rose. You told me + I was a traitor to her and to France.” + </p> + <p> + “I was told so,” said Rose, faintly. She was almost at her wits’ end what + to say or do. + </p> + <p> + “Well, are you sorry or not sorry for saying such a cruel thing to a poor + fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, very sorry,” whispered Rose. She could not persist in injustice, + yet she did not want Josephine to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Then say no more about it; there’s my hand. You are not a soldier, and + did not know what you were talking about.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry I spoke so harshly to you. But you understand. How you + look; how you pant.” + </p> + <p> + “There, I will show you I forgive you. These epaulets, dear, I have never + put them on. I said, no; Josephine shall put them on for me. I will take + honor as well as happiness from her dear hand. But you are her sister, and + what are epaulets compared with what she will give me? You shall put them + on, dear. Come, then you will be sure I bear no malice.” + </p> + <p> + Rose, faint at heart, consented in silence, and fastened on the epaulets. + “Yes, Camille!” she cried, with sudden terror, “think of glory, now; + nothing but glory.” + </p> + <p> + “No one thinks of it more. But to-day how can I think of it, how can I + give her a rival? To-day I am all love. Rose, no man ever loved a human + creature as I love Josephine. Your mother is well, dear? All are well at + Beaurepaire? Oh, where is she all this time? in the house?” He was moving + quickly towards the house; but Rose instinctively put out her hand to stop + him. He recoiled a little and winced. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” cried she. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, dear girl; you put your hand on my wound, that is all. What is + that noise in the tree? Anybody listening to us?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll see,” said Rose, with all a woman’s wit, and whipped hastily round + to hinder Camille from going. She found Josephine white as death, + apparently fainting, and clutching at the tree convulsively with her + nails. Such was the intensity of the situation that she left her beloved + sister in that piteous state, and even hoped she would faint dead away, + and so hear no more. She came back white, and told Camille it was only a + bird got into the tree. “And to think you should be wounded,” said she, to + divert his attention from the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, “and it is rather inflamed, and has worried me all the + way. You need not go telling Josephine, though. They wanted me to stop and + lay up at Bayonne. How could I? And again at Paris. How could I? They + said, ‘You will die.’—‘Not before I get to Beaurepaire,’ said I. I + could bear the motion of a horse no longer, so at the nearest town I asked + for a carriage. Would you believe it? both his carriages were OUT AT A + WEDDING. I could not wait till they came back. I had waited an eternity. I + came on foot. I dragged my self along; the body was weak, but the heart + was strong. A little way from here my wound seemed inclined to open. I + pressed it together tight with my hand; you see I could not afford to lose + any more blood, and so struggled on. ‘Die?’ said I, ‘not before + Beaurepaire.’ And, O Rose! now I could be content to die—at her + feet; for I am happy. Oh! I am happy beyond words to utter. What I have + gone through! But I kept my word, and this is Beaurepaire. Hurrah!” and + his pale cheek flushed, and his eye gleamed, and he waved his hat feebly + over his head, “hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t!—don’t!—don’t!” cried Rose wild with pity and + dismay. + </p> + <p> + “How can I help?—I am mad with joy—hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! no! no! no!” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “And must I stab you worse than all your enemies have stabbed you?” sighed + Rose, and tears of womanly pity now streamed down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Camille’s mind began to misgive him. What was become of Josephine? she did + not appear. He faltered out, “Your mother is well; all are well I hope. + Oh, where is she?” and receiving no reply, began to tremble visibly with + the fear of some terrible calamity. + </p> + <p> + Rose, with a sister fainting close by, and this poor lover trembling + before her, lost all self-command, and began to wring her hands and cry + wildly. “Camille,” she almost screamed, “there is but one thing for you to + do; leave Beaurepaire on the instant: fly from it; it is no place for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “She is dead,” said Camille, very quietly. + </p> + <p> + When he said that, with an unnatural and monotonous calm such as precedes + deliberate suicide, it flashed in one moment across Rose that it was much + best he should think so. + </p> + <p> + She did not reply; but she drooped her head and let him think it. + </p> + <p> + “She would have come to me ere this if she was alive,” said he. “You are + all in white: they mourn in white for angels like her, that go to heaven, + virgins. Oh! I was blind. You might have told me at once; you see I can + bear it. What does it matter to one who loves as I love? It is only to + give her one more proof I lived only for her. I would have died a hundred + times but for my promise to her. Yes, I am coming, love; I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + He fell on his knees and smiled, and whispered, “I am coming, Josephine, I + am coming.” + </p> + <p> + A sob and a moan as of a creature dying in anguish answered him. + </p> + <p> + Rose screamed with terror when she heard it. + </p> + <p> + Camille rose to his feet, awestruck. “That was her voice, behind this + tree,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried Rose; “it was me.” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment a rustle and a rush was heard of some one darting out + of the tree. + </p> + <p> + Camille darted furiously round it in the same direction. Rose tried to + stop him, but was too late. The next moment Raynal’s wife was in his arms. + </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> + Josephine wrestled long and terribly with nature in that old oak-tree. But + who can so struggle forever? Anguish, remorse, horror, despair, and love + wrenched her to and fro; and O mysterious human heart! gleams of a mad + fitful joy shot through her, coming quick as lightning, going as quickly, + and leaving the despair darker. And then the fierce struggle of the soul + to make itself heard! More than once she had to close her mouth with her + hand: more than once she seized her throat not to cry out. But as the + struggle endured, she got weaker and weaker, and nature mightier and + mightier. And when the wounded hero fell on his knees so close to her; + when he who had resisted death so bravely for her, prepared to give up + life calmly for her, her bosom rose beyond all control: it seemed to fill + to choking, then to split wide open and give the struggling soul passage + in one gasping sob and heart-stricken cry. Could she have pent this in she + must have died. + </p> + <p> + It betrayed her. She felt it had: so then came the woman’s instinct—flight: + the coward’s impulse—flight: the chaste wife’s inspiration—flight. + She rushed from her hiding-place and made wildly for the house. + </p> + <p> + But, unluckily, Camille was at that moment darting round the tree: she ran + right into the danger she meant to flee. He caught her in his arms. He + held her irresistibly. “I have got her; I have got her,” he shouted in + wild triumph. “No! I will not let you go. None but God shall ever take you + from me, and he has spared you to me. You are not dead: you have kept + faith as I have: you have lived. See! look at me. I am alive, I am well, I + am happy. I told Rose that I suffered. If I had suffered I should remember + it. It is all gone at sight of you, my love! my love! Oh, my Josephine! my + love!” + </p> + <p> + His arm was firm round her waist. His glowing eyes poured love upon her. + She felt his beating heart. + </p> + <p> + All that passed in her then, what mortal can say? She seemed two women: + that part of her which could not get away from his strong arm lost all + strength to resist, it yielded and thrilled under his embrace, her bosom + heaving madly: all that was free writhed away from him; her face was + averted with a glare of terror, and both her hands put up between his eyes + and it. + </p> + <p> + “You turn away your head. Rose, she turns away. Speak for me. Scold her; + for I don’t know how to scold her. No answer from either; oh, what has + turned your hearts against me so?” + </p> + <p> + “Camille,” cried Rose—the tears streaming down her cheeks—“my + poor Camille! leave Beaurepaire. Oh, leave it at once.” + </p> + <p> + Returned towards her with a look of inquiry. + </p> + <p> + At that Josephine, like some feeble but nimble wild creature on whom a + grasp has relaxed, writhed away from him and got free: “Farewell! + Farewell!” she cried, in despair’s own voice, and made swiftly for the + house. + </p> + <p> + Camille stood aghast, and did not follow her. + </p> + <p> + Now ere she had gone many steps who should meet her right in front but + Jacintha. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Raynal, the baroness’s carriage is just in sight. I thought you’d + like to know.” Then she bawled proudly to Rose, “I was the first to call + her madame;” and off went Jacintha convinced she had done something very + clever. + </p> + <p> + This blow turned those three to stone. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had no longer the power or the wish to fly. “Better so,” she + thought, and she stood cowering. + </p> + <p> + The great passions that had spoken so loud were struck dumb, and a deep + silence fell upon the place. Madame Raynal’s quivering eye turned slowly + and askant towards Camille, but stopped in terror ere it could see him. + For she knew by this fearful stillness that the truth was creeping on + Camille. And so did Rose. + </p> + <p> + At last Camille spoke one word in a low whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Madame?” + </p> + <p> + Dead silence. + </p> + <p> + “White? both in white?” + </p> + <p> + Rose came between him and Josephine, and sobbed out, “Camille, it was our + doing. We drove her to it. O sir, look how afraid of you she is. Do not + reproach her, if you are a man.” + </p> + <p> + He waved her out of his way as if she had been some idle feather, and + almost staggered up to Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “It is for you to speak, my betrothed: are you married?” + </p> + <p> + The poor creature, true to her nature, was thinking more of him than + herself. Even in her despair it flashed across her, “If he knew all, he + too would be wretched for life. If I let him think ill of me he may be + happy one day.” She cowered the picture of sorrow and tongue-tied guilt. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + He winced and quivered as if a bullet had pierced him. + </p> + <p> + “This is how I came to be suspected; she I loved was false.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Camille.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” cried Rose; “don’t believe HER: she never suspected you. We have + brought her to this, we alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Be silent, Rose! oh, be silent!” gasped Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “I lived for you: I would have died for you; you could not even wait for + me.” + </p> + <p> + A low moan, but not a word of excuse. + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you now?” + </p> + <p> + “Forget me, Camille,” said she despairingly, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “Forget you? never, never! there is but one thing I can do to show you how + I loved you: I will forgive you, and begone. Whither shall I go? whither + shall I go now?” + </p> + <p> + “Camile, your words stab her.” + </p> + <p> + “Let none speak but I,” said Camille; “none but I have the right to speak. + Poor weak angel that loved yet could not wait: I forgive you. Be happy, if + you can; I bid you be hap-py.” + </p> + <p> + The quiet, despairing tones died away, and with them life seemed to end to + her, and hope to go out. He turned his back quickly on her. He cried + hoarsely, “To the army! Back to the army, and a soldier’s grave!” Then + with a prodigious effort he drew himself haughtily up in marching + attitude. He took three strides, erect and fiery and bold. + </p> + <p> + At the next something seemed to snap asunder in the great heart, and the + worn body that heart had held up so long, rolled like a dead log upon the + ground with a tremendous fall. + </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 baroness and Aubertin were just getting out of their carriage, when + suddenly they heard shrieks of terror in the Pleasaunce. They came with + quaking hearts as fast as their old limbs would carry them. They found + Rose and Josephine crouched over the body of a man, an officer. + </p> + <p> + Rose was just tearing open his collar and jacket. Dard and Jacintha had + run from the kitchen at the screams. Camille lay on his back, white and + motionless. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was the first to come up. “Who! what is this? I seem to know + his face.” Then shaking his head, “Whoever it is, it is a bad case. Stand + away, ladies. Let me feel his pulse.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst the old man was going stiffly down on one knee, Jacintha uttered a + cry of terror. “See, see! his shirt! that red streak! Ah, ah! it is + getting bigger and bigger:” and she turned faint in a moment, and would + have fallen but for Dard. + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked. “All the better,” said he firmly. “I thought he was + dead. His blood flows; then I will save him. Don’t clutch me so, + Josephine; don’t cling to me like that. Now is the time to show your + breed: not turn sick at the sight of a little blood, like that foolish + creature, but help me save him.” + </p> + <p> + “Take him in-doors,” cried the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Into our house, mamma?” gasped Rose; “no, no.” + </p> + <p> + “What,” said the baroness, “a wounded soldier who has fought for France! + leave him to lie and die outside my door: what would my son say to that? + He is a soldier himself.” + </p> + <p> + Rose cast a hasty look at Josephine. Josephine’s eyes were bent on the + ground, and her hands clenched and trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Jacintha, you be off,” said the doctor. “I can’t have cowards about + him to make the others as bad. Go and stew down a piece of good beef for + him. Stew it in red wine and water.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will: poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I know him,” said the baroness suddenly; “it is an old acquaintance, + young Dujardin: you remember, Josephine. I used to suspect him of a fancy + for you, poor fellow! Why, he must have come here to see us, poor soul.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter who it is; it is a man. Now, girls, have you courage, have you + humanity? Then come one on each side of him and take hands beneath his + back, while I lift his head and Dard his legs.” + </p> + <p> + “And handle him gently whatever you do,” said Dard. “I know what it is to + be wounded.” + </p> + <p> + These four carried the lifeless burden very slowly and gently across the + Pleasaunce to the house, then with more difficulty and caution up the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + All the while the sisters’ hands griped one another tight beneath the + lifeless burden, and spoke to one another. And Josephine’s arm upheld + tenderly but not weakly the hero she had struck down. She avoided Rose’s + eye, her mother’s, and even the doctor’s: one gasping sob escaped her as + she walked with head half averted, and vacant, terror-stricken eyes, and + her victim on her sustaining arm. + </p> + <p> + The doctor selected the tapestried chamber for him as being most airy. + Then he ordered the women out, and with Dard’s help undressed the still + insensible patient. + </p> + <p> + Josephine sat down on the stairs in gloomy silence, her eyes on the + ground, like one waiting for her deathblow. + </p> + <p> + Rose, sick at heart, sat silent too at some distance. At last she said + faintly, “Have we done well?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Josephine doggedly. Her eyes never left the ground. + </p> + <p> + “We could not let him die for want of care.” + </p> + <p> + “He will not thank us. Better for him to die than live. Better for me.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant Dard came running down. “Good news, mesdemoiselles, good + news! the wound runs all along; it is not deep, like mine was. He has + opened his eyes and shut them again. The dear good doctor stopped the + blood in a twinkle. The doctor says he’ll be bound to save him. I must run + and tell Jacintha. She is taking on in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who had risen eagerly from her despairing posture, clasped her + hands together, then lifted up her voice and wept. “He will live! he will + live!” + </p> + <p> + When she had wept a long while, she said to Rose, “Come, sister, help your + poor Josephine.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, love, what shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “My duty,” faltered Josephine. “An hour ago it seemed so sweet,” and she + fell to weeping patiently again. They went to Josephine’s room. She crept + slowly to a wardrobe, and took out a gray silk dress. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind for to-day,” cried Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Help me, Rose. It is for myself as well; to remind me every moment I am + Madame Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + They put the gray gown on her, both weeping patiently. It will be known at + the last day, all that honest women have suffered weeping silently in this + noisy world. + </p> + <p> + Camille soon recovered his senses and a portion of his strength: then the + irritation of his wound brought on fever. This in turn retired before the + doctor’s remedies and a sound constitution, but it left behind it a great + weakness and general prostration. And in this state the fate of the body + depends greatly on the mind. + </p> + <p> + The baroness and the doctor went constantly to see him, and soothe him: he + smiled and thanked them, but his eager eyes watched the door for one who + came not. + </p> + <p> + When he got well enough to leave his bed the largest couch was sent up to + him from the saloon; a kind hand lined the baron’s silk dressing-gown for + him warm and soft and nice; and he would sit or lie on his couch, or take + two turns in the room leaning upon Rose’s shoulder, and glad of the + support; and he looked piteously in her eyes when she came and when she + went. Rose looked down; she could do nothing, she could say nothing. + </p> + <p> + With his strength, Camille lost a portion of his pride: he pined for a + sight of her he no longer respected; pined for her, as the thirsty pine + for water in Sahara. + </p> + <p> + At last one day he spoke out. “How kind you are to me, Rose! how kind you + all are—but one.” + </p> + <p> + He waited in hopes she would say something, but she held her tongue. + </p> + <p> + “At least tell me why it is. Is she ashamed? Is she afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither.” + </p> + <p> + “She hates me: it is true, then, that we hate those whom we have wounded. + Cruel, cruel Josephine! Oh, heart of marble against which my heart has + wrecked itself forever!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! She is anything but cruel: but she is Madame Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I forgot. But have I no claim on her? Nearly four years she has been + my betrothed. What have I done? Was I ever false to her? I could forgive + her for what she has done to me, but she cannot forgive me. Does she mean + never to see me again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask yourself what good could come of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Camille, with a malicious smile. “I am in her way. I see + what she wants; she shall have it.” + </p> + <p> + Rose carried these words to Josephine. They went through her like a sword. + </p> + <p> + Rose pitied her. Rose had a moment’s weakness. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to him,” she said; “anything is better than this.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose, I dare not,” was the wise reply. + </p> + <p> + But the next day early, Josephine took Rose to a door outside the house, a + door that had long been disused. Nettles grew before it. She produced a + key and with great difficulty opened this door. It led to the tapestried + chamber, and years ago they used to steal up it and peep into the room. + </p> + <p> + Rose scarcely needed to be told that she was to watch Camille, and report + to her. In truth, it was a mysterious, vague protection against a danger + equally mysterious. Yet it made Josephine easier. But so unflinching was + her prudence that she never once could be prevailed on to mount those + stairs, and peep at Camille herself. “I must starve my heart, not feed + it,” said she. And she grew paler and more hollow-eyed day by day. + </p> + <p> + Yet this was the same woman who showed such feebleness and irresolution + when Raynal pressed her to marry him. But then dwarfs feebly drew her this + way and that. Now giants fought for her. Between a feeble inclination and + a feeble disinclination her dead heart had drifted to and fro. Now honor, + duty, gratitude,—which last with her was a passion,—dragged + her one way: love, pity, and remorse another. + </p> + <p> + Not one of these giants would relax his grasp, and nothing yielded except + her vital powers. Yes; her temper, one of the loveliest Heaven ever gave a + human creature, was soured at times. + </p> + <p> + Was it a wonder? There lay the man she loved pining for her; cursing her + for her cruelty, and alternately praying Heaven to forgive him and to + bless her: sighing, at intervals, all the day long, so loud, so deep, so + piteously, as if his heart broke with each sigh; and sometimes, for he + little knew, poor soul, that any human eye was upon him, casting aside his + manhood in his despair, and flinging himself on the very floor, and + muffling his head, and sobbing; he a hero. + </p> + <p> + And here was she pining in secret for him who pined for her? “I am not a + woman at all,” said she, who was all woman. “I am crueller to him than a + tiger or any savage creature is to the victim she tears. I must cure him + of his love for me; and then die; for what shall I have to live for? He + weeps, he sighs, he cries for Josephine.” + </p> + <p> + Her enforced cruelty was more contrary to this woman’s nature than black + is to white, or heat to cold, and the heart rebelled furiously at times. + As when a rock tries to stem a current, the water fights its way on more + sides than one, so insulted nature dealt with Josephine. Not only did her + body pine, but her nerves were exasperated. Sudden twitches came over her, + that almost made her scream. Her permanent state was utter despondency, + but across it came fitful flashes of irritation; and then she was scarce + mistress of herself. + </p> + <p> + Wherefore you, who find some holy woman cross and bitter, stop a moment + before you sum her up vixen and her religion naught: inquire the history + of her heart: perhaps beneath the smooth cold surface of duties well + discharged, her life has been, or even is, a battle against some + self-indulgence the insignificant saint’s very blood cries out for: and so + the poor thing is cross, not because she is bad, but because she is better + than the rest of us; yet only human. + </p> + <p> + Now though Josephine was more on her guard with the baroness than with + Rose, or the doctor, or Jacintha, her state could not altogether escape + the vigilance of a mother’s eye. + </p> + <p> + But the baroness had not the clew we have; and what a difference that + makes! How small an understanding, put by accident or instruction on the + right track, shall run the game down! How great a sagacity shall wander if + it gets on a false scent! + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said the baroness one day, “you are so taken up with your + patient you neglect the rest of us. Do look at Josephine! She is ill, or + going to be ill. She is so pale, and so fretful, so peevish, which is not + in her nature. Would you believe it, doctor, she snaps?” + </p> + <p> + “Our Josephine snap? This is new.” + </p> + <p> + “And snarls.” + </p> + <p> + “Then look for the end of the world.” + </p> + <p> + “The other day I heard her snap Rose: and this morning she half snarled at + me, just because I pressed her to go and console our patient. Hush! here + she is. My child, I am accusing you to the doctor. I tell him you neglect + his patient: never go near him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will visit him one of these days,” said Josephine, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “One of these days,” said the baroness, shocked. “You used not to be so + hard-hearted. A soldier, an old comrade of your husband’s, wounded and + sick, and you alone never go to him, to console him with a word of + sympathy or encouragement.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked at her mother with a sort of incredulous stare. Then, + after a struggle, she replied with a tone and manner so spiteful and icy + that it would have deceived even us who know her had we heard it. “He has + plenty of nurses without me.” She added, almost violently, “My husband, if + he were wounded, would not have so many, perhaps not have one.” + </p> + <p> + With this she rose and went out, leaving them aghast. She sat down in the + passage on a window-seat, and laughed hysterically. Rose heard her and ran + to her. Josephine told her what her mother had said to her. Rose soothed + her. “Never mind, you have your sister who understands you: don’t you go + back till they have got some other topic.” + </p> + <p> + Rose out of curiosity went in, and found a discussion going on. The doctor + was fathoming Josephine, for the benefit of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “It is a female jealousy, and of a mighty innocent kind. We are so taken + up with this poor fellow, she thinks her soldier is forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, doctor, our Josephine would not be so unreasonable, so unjust,” + suggested her mother. + </p> + <p> + “She belongs to a sex, be it said without offending you, madame, among + whose numberless virtues justice does not fill a prominent place.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness shook her head. “That is not it. It is a piece of prudery. + This young gentleman was a sort of admirer of hers, though she did not + admire him much, as far as I remember. But it was four years ago; and she + is married to a man she loves, or is going to love.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but, mamma, a trifling excess of delicacy is surely excusable.” + This from Rose. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; it is not delicacy; it is prudery. And when people are sick and + suffering, an honest woman should take up her charity and lay down her + prudery, or her coquetry: two things that I suspect are the same thing in + different shapes.” + </p> + <p> + Here Jacintha came in. “Mademoiselle, here is the colonel’s broth; Madame + Raynal has flavored it for him, and you are to take it up to him, and keep + him company while he eats it.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” cried the baroness, “my lecture has not been lost.” + </p> + <p> + Rose followed Jacintha up-stairs. + </p> + <p> + Rose was heart and head on Raynal’s side. + </p> + <p> + She had deceived him about Josephine’s attachment, and felt all the more + desirous to guard him against any ill consequences of it. Then he had been + so generous to her: he had left her her sister, who would have gone to + Egypt, and escaped this misery, but for her. + </p> + <p> + But on the other hand, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + —Gentle pity + Tugged at her heartstrings with complaining cries. +</pre> + <p> + This watching of Camille saddened even her. When she was with him his + pride bore him up: but when he was alone as he thought, his anguish and + despair were terrible, and broke out in so many ways that often Rose + shrank in terror from her peep hole. + </p> + <p> + She dared not tell Josephine the half of what she saw: what she did tell + her agitated her so terribly: and often Rose had it on the tip of her + tongue to say, “Do pray go and see if you can say nothing that will do him + good;” but she fought the impulse down. This battle of feeling, though + less severe than her sister’s, was constant; it destroyed her gayety. She, + whose merry laugh used to ring like chimes through the house, never + laughed now, seldom smiled, and often sighed. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin was the last to succumb to the deep depression, but his time + came: and he had been for a day or two as grave and as sad as the rest, + when one day that Rose was absent, spying on Camille, he took the baroness + and Josephine into his confidence; and condescended finally to ask their + advice. + </p> + <p> + “It is humiliating,” said he, “after all my experience, to be obliged to + consult unprofessional persons. Forty years ago I should have been TOO + WISE to do so. But since then I have often seen science baffled and + untrained intelligences throw light upon hard questions: and your sex in + particular has luminous instincts and reads things by flashes that we men + miss with a microscope. Our dear Madame Raynal suspected that plausible + notary, and to this day I believe she could not tell us why.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine admitted as much very frankly. + </p> + <p> + “There you see,” said the doctor. “Well, then, you must help me in this + case. And this time I promise to treat your art with more respect.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray who is it she is to read now?” asked the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Who should it be but my poor patient? He puzzles me. I never knew a + patient so faint-hearted.” + </p> + <p> + “A soldier faint-hearted!” exclaimed the baroness. “To be sure these men + that storm cities, and fire cannon, and cut and hack one another with so + much spirit, are poor creatures compared with us when they have to lie + quiet and suffer.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor walked the room in great excitement. “It is not his wound that + is killing him, there’s something on his mind. You, Josephine, with your + instincts do help me: do pray, for pity’s sake, throw off that sublime + indifference you have manifested all along to this man’s fate.” + </p> + <p> + “She has not,” cried the baroness, firing up. “Did I not see her lining + his dressing-gown for him? and she inspects everything that he eats: do + you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mother.” She then suggested in a faltering voice that time would + cure the patient, and time alone. + </p> + <p> + “Time! you speak as if time was a quality: time is only a measure of + events, favorable or unfavorable; it kills as many as it cures.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you surely would not imply his life is in any danger?” This was the + baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, if the case was not grave, should I take this unusual step? I + tell you if some change does not take place soon, he will be a dead man in + another fortnight. That is all TIME will do for him.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness uttered an exclamation of pity and distress. Josephine put + her hand to her bosom, and a creeping horror came over her, and then a + faintness. She sat working mechanically, and turning like ice within. + After a few minutes of this, she rose with every appearance of external + composure and left the room. In the passage she met Rose coming hastily + towards the salon laughing: the first time she had laughed this many a + day. Oh, what a contrast between the two faces that met there—the + one pale and horror stricken, the other rosy and laughing! + </p> + <p> + “Well, dear, at last I am paid for all my trouble, and yours, by a + discovery; he never drinks a drop of his medicine; he pours it into the + ashes under the grate; I caught him in the fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Then this is too much: I can resist no longer. Come with me,” said + Josephine doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “To him.” + </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> + Josephine paused on the landing, and laid her hand on Rose’s shoulder. It + was so cold it made Rose shudder, and exacted a promise from her not to + contradict a word she should say to Camille. “I do not go to him for my + pleasure, but for his life,” she said; “I must deceive him and save him; + and then let me lie down and die.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that the wretch had never been born!” cried Rose, in despair. But she + gave the required promise, and offered to go and tell Camille Josephine + was coming to visit him. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine declined this. “No,” said she; “give me every advantage; I + must think beforehand every word I shall say; but take him by surprise, + coward and doubleface that I am.” + </p> + <p> + Rose knocked at the door. A faint voice said, “Come in.” The sisters + entered the room very softly. Camille sat on the sofa, his head bowed over + his hands. A glance showed Josephine that he was doggedly and resolutely + thrusting himself into the grave. Thinking it was only Rose—for he + had now lost all hope of seeing Josephine come in at the door—he + never moved. Some one glided gently but rapidly up to him. He looked up. + Josephine was kneeling to him. + </p> + <p> + He lifted his head with a start, and trembled all over. + </p> + <p> + She whispered, “I am come to you to beg your pity; to appeal to your + generosity; to ask a favor; I who deserve so little of you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have waited a long time,” said Camille, agitated greatly; “and so + have I.” + </p> + <p> + “Camille, you are torturing one who loved you once, and who has been very + weak and faithless, but not so wicked as she appears.” + </p> + <p> + “How am I torturing you?” + </p> + <p> + “With remorse; do I not suffer enough? Would you make me a murderess?” + </p> + <p> + “Why have you never been near me?” retorted Camille. “I could forgive your + weakness, but not your heartlessness.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my duty. I have no right to seek your society. If you really want + mine, you have only to get well, and so join us down-stairs a week or two + before you leave us.” + </p> + <p> + “How am I to get well? My heart is broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Camille, be a man. Do not fling away a soldier’s life because a fickle, + worthless woman could not wait for you. Forgive me like a man, or else + revenge yourself like a man. If you cannot forgive me, kill me. See, I + kneel at your feet. I will not resist you. Kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could. Oh! if I could kill you with a look and myself with a + wish! No man should ever take you from me, then. We would be together in + the grave at this hour. Do not tempt me, I say;” and he cast a terrible + look of love, and hatred, and despair upon her. Her purple eye never + winced; it poured back tenderness and affection in return. He saw and + turned away with a groan, and held out his hand to her. She seized it and + kissed it. “You are great, you are generous; you will not strike me as a + woman strikes; you will not die to drive me to despair.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said he, more gently, “love is gone, but pity remains. I thought + that was gone, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Camille,” said Josephine, in a whisper, “pity remains, and remorse + and terror at what I have done to a man of whom I was never worthy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madame, as you have come at last to me, and even do me the honor to + ask me a favor—I shall try—if only out of courtesy—to—ah, + Josephine! Josephine! when did I ever refuse you anything?” + </p> + <p> + At this Josephine sank into a chair, and burst out crying. Camille, at + this, began to cry too; and the two poor things sat a long way from one + another, and sobbed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + The man, weakened as he was, recovered his quiet despair first. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry so,” said he. “But tell me what is your will, and I shall obey + you as I used before any one came between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, live, Camille. I implore you to live.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Josephine, since you care about it, I will try and live. Why did + not you come before and ask me? I thought I was in your way. I thought you + wanted me dead.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine cast a look of wonder and anguish on Camille, but she said + nothing. She rang the bell, and, on Jacintha coming up, despatched her to + Dr. Aubertin for the patient’s medicine. + </p> + <p> + “Tell the doctor,” said she, “Colonel Dujardin has let fall the glass.” + While Jacintha was gone, she scolded Camille gently. “How could you be so + unkind to the poor doctor who loves you so? Only think: to throw away his + medicines! Look at the ashes; they are wet. Camille, are you, too, + becoming disingenuous?” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha came in with the tonic in a glass, and retired with an obeisance. + Josephine took it to Camille. + </p> + <p> + “Drink with me, then,” said he, “or I will not touch it.” Josephine took + the glass. “I drink to your health, Camille, and to your glory; laurels to + your brow, and some faithful woman to your heart, who will make you forget + this folly: it is for her I am saving you.” She put the glass with + well-acted spirit to her lips; but in the very action a spasm seized her + throat and almost choked her; she lowered her head that he might not see + her face, and tried again; but the tears burst from her eyes and ran into + the liquid, and her lips trembled over the brim, and were paralyzed. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! give it me!” he cried; “there is a tear of yours in it.” He drank + off the bitter remedy now as if it had been nectar. + </p> + <p> + Josephine blushed. + </p> + <p> + “If you wanted me to live, why did you not come here before?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not think you would be so foolish, so wicked, so cruel as to do + what you have been doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and shine upon me every day, and you shall have no fresh cause of + complaint; things flourish in the sunshine that die in the dark: Rose, it + is as if the sun had come into my prison; you are pale, but you are + beautiful as ever—more beautiful; what a sweet dress! so quiet, so + modest, it sets off your beauty instead of vainly trying to vie with it.” + With this he put out his hand and took her gray silk dress, and went to + kiss it as a devotee kisses the altar steps. + </p> + <p> + She snatched it away with a shudder. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are right,” said she; “thank you for noticing my dress; it is a + beautiful dress—ha! ha! A dress I take a pride in wearing, and + always shall, I hope. I mean to be buried in it. Come, Rose. Thank you, + Camille; you are very good, you have once more promised me to live. Get + well; come down-stairs; then you will see me every day, you know—there + is a temptation. Good-by, Camille!—are you coming, Rose? What are + you loitering for? God bless you, and comfort you, and help you to forget + what it is madness to remember!” + </p> + <p> + With these wild words she literally fled; and in one moment the room + seemed to darken to Camille. + </p> + <p> + Outside the door Josephine caught hold of Rose. “Have I committed myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Over and over again. Do not look so terrified; I mean to me, but not to + him. How blind he is! and how much better you must know him than I do to + venture on such a transparent deceit. He believes whatever you tell him. + He is all ears and no eyes. Yes, love, I watched him keenly all the time. + He really thinks it is pity and remorse, nothing more. My poor sister, you + have a hard life to lead, a hard game to play; but so far you have + succeeded; yet could look poor Raynal in the face if he came home to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then God be thanked!” cried Josephine. “I am as happy to-day as I can + ever hope to be. Now let us go through the farce of dressing—it is + near dinner-time—and then the farce of talking, and, hardest of all, + the farce of living.” + </p> + <p> + From that hour Camille began to get better very slowly, yet perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, afraid of being mistaken, said nothing for some days, but at + last he announced the good news at the dinner-table. “He is to come + down-stairs in three days,” added the doctor. + </p> + <p> + But I am sorry to say that as Camille’s body strengthened some of the + worst passions in our nature attacked him. Fierce gusts of hate and love + combined overpowered this man’s high sentiments of honor and justice, and + made him clench his teeth, and vow never to leave Beaurepaire without + Josephine. She had been his four years before she ever saw this + interloper, and she should be his forever. Her love would soon revive when + they should meet every day, and she would end by eloping with him. + </p> + <p> + Then conscience pricked him, and reminded him how and why Raynal had + married her: for Rose had told him all. Should he undermine an absent + soldier, whose whole conduct in this had been so pure, so generous, so + unselfish? + </p> + <p> + But this was not all. As I have already hinted, he was under a great + personal obligation to his quondam comrade Raynal. Whenever this was + vividly present to his mind, a great terror fell on him, and he would cry + out in anguish, “Oh! that some angel would come to me and tear me by force + from this place!” And the next moment passion swept over him like a flood, + and carried away all his virtuous resolves. His soul was in deep waters; + great waves drove it to and fro. Perilous condition, which seldom ends + well. Camille was a man of honor. In no other earthly circumstance could + he have hesitated an instant between right and wrong. But such natures, + proof against all other temptations, have often fallen, and will fall, + where sin takes the angel form of her they love. Yet, of all men, they + should pray for help to stand; for when they fall they still retain one + thing that divides them from mean sinners. + </p> + <p> + Remorse, the giant that rends the great hearts which mock at fear. + </p> + <p> + The day came in which the doctor had promised his patient he should come + down-stairs. First his comfortable sofa was taken down into the saloon for + his use: then the patient himself came down leaning on the doctor’s arm, + and his heart palpitating at the thought of the meeting. He came into the + room; the baroness was alone. She greeted him kindly, and welcomed him. + Rose came in soon after and did the same. But no Josephine. Camille felt + sick at heart. At last dinner was announced; “She will surely join us at + dinner,” thought he. He cast his eyes anxiously on the table; the napkins + were laid for four only. The baroness carelessly explained this to him as + they sat down. “Madame Raynal dines in her own room. I am sorry to say she + is indisposed.” + </p> + <p> + Camille muttered polite regrets: the rage of disappointment drove its + fangs into him, and then came the heart-sickness of hope deferred. The + next day he saw her, but could not get a word with her alone. The baroness + tortured him another way. She was full of Raynal. She loved him. She + called him her son; was never weary of descanting on his virtues to + Camille. Not a day passed that she did not pester Camille to make a + calculation as to the probable period of his return, and he was obliged to + answer her. She related to him before Josephine and Rose, how this honest + soldier had come to them like a guardian angel and saved the whole family. + In vain he muttered that Rose had told him. + </p> + <p> + “Let me have the pleasure of telling it you my way,” cried she, and told + it diffusely, and kept him writhing. + </p> + <p> + The next thing was, Josephine had received no letter from him this month; + the first month he had missed. In vain did Rose represent that he was only + a few days over his time. The baroness became anxious, communicated her + anxieties to Camille among the rest; and, by a torturing interrogatory, + compelled him to explain to her before Josephine and them all, that ships + do not always sail to a day, and are sometimes delayed. But oh! he winced + at the man’s name; and Rose observed that he never mentioned it, nor + acknowledged the existence of such a person as Josephine’s husband, except + when others compelled him. Yet they were acquainted; and Rose sometimes + wondered that he did not detract or sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I should,” said she; “I feel I should.” + </p> + <p> + “He is too noble,” said Josephine, “and too wise. For, if he did, I should + respect him less, and my husband more than I do—if possible.” + </p> + <p> + Certainly Camille was not the sort of nature that detracts, but the reason + he avoided Raynal’s name was simply that his whole internal battle was to + forget such a man existed. From this dream he was rudely awakened every + hour since he joined the family, and the wound his self-deceiving heart + would fain have skinned over, was torn open. But worse than this was the + torture of being tantalized. He was in company with Josephine, but never + alone. Even if she left the room for an instant, Rose accompanied her and + returned with her. Camille at last began to comprehend that Josephine had + decided there should be no private interviews between her and him. Thus, + not only the shadow of the absent Raynal stood between them, but her + mother and sister in person, and worst of all, her own will. He called her + a cold-blooded fiend in his rage. Then the thought of all her tenderness + and goodness came to rebuke him. But even in rebuking it maddened him. + “Yes, it is her very nature to love; but since she can make her heart turn + whichever way her honor bids, she will love her husband; she does not now; + but sooner or later she will. Then she will have children—(he + writhed with anguish and fury at this thought)—loving ties between + him and her. He has everything on his side. I, nothing but memories she + will efface from her heart. Will efface? She must have effaced them, or + she could not have married him.” I know no more pitiable state of mind + than to love and hate the same creature. But when the two feelings are + both intense, and meet in an ardent bosom, such a man would do well to + spend a day or two upon his knees, praying for grace divine. For he who + with all his soul loves and hates one woman is next door to a maniac, and + is scarcely safe an hour together from suicide or even from homicide; this + truth the newspapers tell us, by examples, every month; but are + wonderfully little heeded, because newspapers do not, nor is it their + business to, analyze and dwell upon the internal feelings of the + despairing lover, whose mad and bloody act they record. With such a + tempest in his heart did Camille one day wander into the park. And soon an + irresistible attraction drew him to the side of the stream that flowed + along one side of it. He eyed it gloomily, and wherever the stagnant water + indicated a deeper pool than usual he stopped, and looked, and thought, + “How calm and peaceful you are!” + </p> + <p> + He sat down at last by the water-side, his eyes bent on a calm, green + pool. + </p> + <p> + It looked very peaceful; and it could give peace. He thought, oh! what a + blessing; to be quit of rage, jealousy, despair, and life, all in a + minute! + </p> + <p> + Yet that was a sordid death for a soldier to die, who had seen great + battles. Could he not die more nobly than that? With this he suddenly felt + in his pocket; and there sure enough fate had placed his pistols. He had + put them into this coat; and he had not worn this coat until to-day. He + had armed himself unconsciously. “Ah!” said he; “it is to be; all these + things are preordained.” (This notion of fate has strengthened many a + fatal resolution.) Then he had a cruel regret. To die without a word; a + parting word. Then he thought to himself, it was best so; for perhaps he + should have taken her with him. + </p> + <p> + “Sir! colonel!” uttered a solemn voice behind him. + </p> + <p> + Absorbed and strung up to desperation as he was, this voice seemed + unnaturally loud, and discordant with Camille’s mood; a sudden trumpet + from the world of small things. + </p> + <p> + It was Picard, the notary. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me where Madame Raynal is?” + </p> + <p> + “No. At the chateau, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “She is not there; I inquired of the servant. She was out. You have not + seen her, colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I; I never see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then perhaps I had better go back to the chateau and wait for her: stay, + are you a friend of the family? Colonel, suppose I were to tell you, and + ask you to break it to Madame Raynal, or, better still, to the baroness, + or Mademoiselle Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Camille coldly, “charge me with no messages, for I cannot + deliver them. I AM GOING ANOTHER WAY.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, I will go to the chateau once more; for what I have to say + must be heard.” + </p> + <p> + Picard returned to the chateau wondering at the colonel’s strange manner. + </p> + <p> + Camille, for his part, wondered that any one could be so mad as to talk to + him about trifles; to him, a man standing on the brink of eternity. Poor + soul, it was he who was mad and unlucky. He should have heard what Picard + had to say. The very gentleness and solemnity of manner ought to have + excited his curiosity. + </p> + <p> + He watched Picard’s retiring form. When he was out of sight, then he + turned round and resumed his thoughts as if Picard had been no more than a + fly that had buzzed and then gone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I should have taken her with me,” he said. He sat gloomy and dogged + like a dangerous maniac in his cell; never moved, scarce thought for more + than half an hour; but his deadly purpose grew in him. Suddenly he + started. A lady was at the style, about a hundred yards distant. He + trembled. It was Josephine. + </p> + <p> + She came towards him slowly, her eyes bent on the ground in a deep + reverie. She stopped about a stone’s throw from him, and looked at the + river long and thoughtfully; then casting her eye around, she caught sight + of Camille. He watched her grimly. He saw her give a little start, and + half turn round; but if this was an impulse to retreat, it was instantly + suppressed; for the next moment she pursued her way. + </p> + <p> + Camille stood gloomy and bitter, awaiting her in silence. He planted + himself in the middle of the path, and said not a word. + </p> + <p> + She looked him all over, and her color came and went. + </p> + <p> + “Out so far as this,” she said kindly; “and without your cap.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand to his head, and discovered that he was bareheaded. + </p> + <p> + “You will catch your death of cold. Come, let us go in and get your cap.” + </p> + <p> + She made as if she would pass him. He planted himself right before her. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Camille!” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you shun me as if I was a viper?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not shun you. I but avoid conferences that can lead to no good; it + is my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very wise; cold-hearted people can be wise.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I cold-hearted, Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “As marble.” + </p> + <p> + She looked him in the face; the water came into her eyes; after awhile she + whispered, sorrowfully, “Well, Camille, I am.” + </p> + <p> + “But with all your wisdom and all your coldness,” he went on to say, “you + have made a mistake; you have driven me to madness and despair.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Your prayer comes too late; you have done it.” + </p> + <p> + “Camille, let me go to the oratory, and pray for you. You terrify me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no use. Heaven has no mercy for me. Take my advice; stay where you + are; don’t hurry; for what remains of your life you gave to pass with me, + do you understand that?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” And she turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “Can you read my riddle?” + </p> + <p> + She looked him in the face. “I can read your eyes, and I know you love me. + I think you mean to kill me. I have heard men kill the thing they love.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they do; sooner than another should have it, they kill it—they + kill it.” + </p> + <p> + “God has not made them patient like us women. Poor Camille!” + </p> + <p> + “Patience dies when hope dies. Come, Madame Raynal, say a prayer, for you + are going to die.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Camille!” said the poor girl, putting her hands together + in her last prayer. At this sweet touch of affection, Camille hung his + head, and sobbed. Then suddenly lashing himself into fury, he cried,— + </p> + <p> + “You are my betrothed! you talk of duty; but you forget your duty to me. + Are you not my betrothed this four years? Answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Camille, I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I not suffer death a hundred times for you, to keep faith with you, + you cold-blooded traitress with an angel’s face?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Camille! can you speak so bitterly to me? Have I denied your right to + kill me? You shall never dishonor me, but you shall kill me, if it is your + pleasure. I do not resist. Why, then, speak to me like that; must the last + words I hear from your mouth be words of anger, cruel Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “I was wrong. But it is so hard to kill her I love in cold blood. I want + anger as well as despair to keep me to it. Come, turn your head away from + me, and all our troubles shall end.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Camille, let me look at you. Then you will be the last thing I shall + see on earth.” + </p> + <p> + At this he hesitated a moment; then, with a fierce stamp at what he + thought was weakness, he levelled a pistol at her. + </p> + <p> + She put up her hands with a piteous cry, “Oh! not my face, Camille! pray + do not disfigure my face. Here—kill me here—in my bosom—my + heart that loved you well, when it was no sin to love you.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t shoot you. I can’t spill your blood. The river will end all, and + not disfigure your beauty, that has driven me mad, and cost you, poor + wretch, your life.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, dear Camille. The water does not frighten me as a pistol does; + it will not hurt me; it will only kill me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is but a plunge, and you will be at peace forever; and so shall I. + Come, take my hand, Madame Raynal, Madame Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him her hand with a look of infinite love. She only said, “My + poor mother!” That word did not fall to the ground. It flashed like + lightning at night across the demented lover, and lighted up his egotism + (suicide, like homicide, is generally a fit of maniacal egotism), even to + his eyes blinded by fury. + </p> + <p> + “Wretch that I am,” he shrieked. “Fly, Josephine, fly! escape this moment, + that my better angel whispers to me. Do you hear? begone, while it is + time.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not leave you, Camille.” + </p> + <p> + “I say you shall. Go to your mother and Rose; go to those you love, and I + can pity; go to the chapel and thank Heaven for your escape.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but not without you, Camille. I am afraid to leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have more to fear if you stay. Well, I can’t wait any longer. Stay, + then, and live; and learn from me how to love Jean Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + He levelled the pistol at himself. + </p> + <p> + Josephine threw herself on him with a cry, and seized his arm. With the + strength excitement lent her she got the better, and all but overpowered + him. But, as usual, the man’s strength lasted longer, and with a sustained + effort he threw her off; then, pale and panting, raised the pistol to take + his life. This time she moved neither hand nor foot; but she palsied his + rash hand with a word. + </p> + <p> + “No; I LOVE YOU.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + There lie the dead corpses of those words on paper; but my art is + powerless to tell you how they were uttered, those words, potent as a + king’s, for they saved a life. + </p> + <p> + They were a cry of terror and a cry of reproach and a cry of love + unfathomable. + </p> + <p> + The weapon shook in his hand. He looked at her with growing astonishment + and joy; she at him fixedly and anxiously, her hands clasped in + supplication. + </p> + <p> + “As you used to love me?” + </p> + <p> + “More, far more. Give me the pistol. I love you, dearest. I love you.” + </p> + <p> + At these delicious words he lost all power of resistance, she saw; and her + soft and supple hand stole in and closed upon his, and gently withdrew the + weapon, and threw it into the water. “Good Camille! now give me the + other.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know there is another?” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are not the man to kill a woman and spare yourself. Come.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine, have pity on me, do not deceive me; pray do not take this, my + only friend, from me, unless you really love me.” + </p> + <p> + “I love you; I adore you,” was her reply. + </p> + <p> + She leaned her head on his shoulder, but with her hand she sought his, and + even as she uttered those loving words she coaxed the weapon from his now + unresisting grasp. + </p> + <p> + “There, it is gone; you are saved from death—saved from crime.” And + with that, the danger was over, she trembled for the first time, and fell + to sobbing hysterically. + </p> + <p> + He threw himself at her knees, and embraced them again and again, and + begged her forgiveness in a transport of remorse and self-reproach. + </p> + <p> + She looked down with tender pity on him, and heard his cries of penitence + and shame. + </p> + <p> + “Rise, Camille, and go home with me,” said she faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Josephine.” + </p> + <p> + They went slowly and in silence. Camille was too ashamed and penitent to + speak; too full of terror too at the abyss of crime from which he had been + saved. The ancients feigned that a virgin could subdue a lion; perhaps + they meant that a pure gentle nature can subdue a nature fierce but + generous. Lion-like Camille walked by Josephine’s side with his eyes bent + on the ground, the picture of humility and penitence. + </p> + <p> + “This is the last walk you and I shall take together,” said Josephine + solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said he humbly. “I have forfeited all right to be by your + side.” + </p> + <p> + “My poor, lost love,” sighed Josephine, “will you never understand me? You + never stood higher in my esteem than at this moment. It is the avowal you + have forced from ME that parts us. The man to whom I have said ‘I’—must + not remain beneath my husband’s roof. Does not your sense of honor agree + with mine?” + </p> + <p> + “It does,” faltered he. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow you must leave the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “I will obey you.” + </p> + <p> + “What, you do not resist, you do not break my heart by complaints, by + reproaches?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Josephine, all is changed. I thought you unfeeling: I thought you + were going to be HAPPY with him; that was what maddened me.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray daily YOU may be happy, no matter how. But you and I are not + alike, dear as we are to one another. Well, do not fear: I shall never be + happy—will that soothe you, Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Josephine, all is changed; the words you have spoken have driven the + fiends out of my heart. I have nothing to do now but to obey, you to + command: it is your right. Since you love me a little still, dispose of + me. Bid me live: bid me die: bid me stay: bid me go. I shall never disobey + the angel who loves me, my only friend upon the earth.” + </p> + <p> + A single deep sob from Josephine was all the answer. + </p> + <p> + Then he could not help asking her why she had not trusted him? + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not say to me long ago, ‘I love you, but I am a wife; my + husband is an honest soldier, absent, and fighting for France: I am the + guardian of his honor and my own; be just, be generous, be self-denying; + depart and love me only as angels love’? Perhaps this might have helped me + to show you that I too am a man of honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I was wrong,” sighed Josephine. “I think I should have trusted + more to you. But then, who would have thought you could really doubt my + love? You were ill; I could not bear you to go till you were well, quite + well. I saw no other way to keep you but this, to treat you with feigned + coldness. You saw the coldness, but not what it cost me to maintain it. + Yes, I was unjust; and inconsiderate, for I had many furtive joys to + sustain me: I had you in my house under my care—that thought was + always sweet—I had a hand in everything that was for your good, for + your comfort. I helped Jacintha make your soup and your chocolate every + day. I had the delight of lining the dressing-gown you were to wear. I had + always some little thing or other to do for you. These kept me up: I + forgot in my selfishness that you had none of these supports, and that I + was driving you to despair. I am a foolish, disingenuous woman: I have + been very culpable. Forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you, angel of purity and goodness? I alone am to blame. What + right had I to doubt your heart? I knew the whole story of your marriage; + I saw your sweet pale face; but I was not pure enough to comprehend + angelic virtue and unselfishness. Well, I am brought to my senses. There + is but one thing for me to do—you bade me leave you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I was very cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “No! not cruel, wise. But I will be wiser. I shall go to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “To-night, Camille?” said Josephine, turning pale. + </p> + <p> + “Ay! for to-night I am strong; to-morrow I may be weak. To-night + everything thrusts me on the right path. To-morrow everything will draw me + from it. Do not cry, beloved one; you and I have a hard fight. We must be + true allies; whenever one is weak, then is the time for the other to be + strong. I have been weaker than you, to my shame be it said; but this is + my hour of strength. A light from heaven shows me my path. I am full of + passion, but like you I have honor. You are Raynal’s wife, and—Raynal + saved my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! is it possible? When? where? may Heaven bless him for it!” + </p> + <p> + “Ask HIM; and say I told you of it—I have not strength to tell it + you, but I will go to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Then Josephine, who had resisted till all her strength was gone, whispered + with a blush that it was too late to get a conveyance. + </p> + <p> + “I need none to carry my sword, my epaulets, and my love for you. I shall + go on foot.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine said nothing, but she began to walk slower and slower. And so + the unfortunate pair came along creeping slowly with drooping heads + towards the gate of the Pleasaunce. There their last walk in this world + must end. Many a man and woman have gone to the scaffold with hearts less + heavy and more hopeful than theirs. + </p> + <p> + “Dry your eyes, Josephine,” said Camille with a deep sigh. “They are all + out on the Pleasaunce.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I will not dry my eyes,” cried Josephine, almost violently. “I care + for nothing now.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness, the doctor, and Rose, were all in the Pleasaunce: and as the + pair came in, lo! every eye was bent on Josephine. + </p> + <p> + She felt this, and her eyes sought the ground: benumbed as she was with + despondency, she began now to dread some fresh stroke or other. + </p> + <p> + Camille felt doubly guilty and confused. How they all look at us, he + thought. Do they know what a villain I have been? He determined to slip + away, and pack up, and begone. However, nobody took any notice of him. The + baroness drew Josephine apart. And Rose followed her mother and sister + with eyes bent on the ground. + </p> + <p> + There was a strange solemnity about them all. + </p> + <p> + Aubertin remained behind. But even he took no notice of Camille, but + walked up and down with his hands behind him, and a sad and troubled face. + Camille felt his utter desolation. He was nothing to any of them. He + resolved to go at once, and charge Aubertin with his last adieus to the + family. It was a wise and manly resolve. He stopped Aubertin in the middle + of his walk, and said in a faint voice of the deepest dejection,— + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, the time is come that I must once more thank you for all your + goodness to me, and bid you all farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “What, going before your strength is re-established?” said the doctor + politely, but not warmly. + </p> + <p> + “I am out of all danger, thanks to your skill.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, at another time I should insist upon your staying a day or two + longer; but now I think it would be unadvisable to press you to stay. Ah, + colonel, you came to a happy house, but you leave a sad one. Poor Madame + Raynal!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” + </p> + <p> + “You saw the baroness draw her aside.” + </p> + <p> + “Y-yes.” + </p> + <p> + “By this time she knows it.” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name what do you mean?” asked Camille. + </p> + <p> + “I forgot; you are not aware of the calamity that has fallen upon our + beloved Josephine; on the darling of the house.” + </p> + <p> + Camille turned cold with vague apprehension. But he contrived to stammer + out, “No; tell me! for Heaven’s sake tell me.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor thus pressed revealed all in a very few words. “My poor + friend,” said he solemnly, “her husband—is dead.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + The baroness, as I have said, drew Josephine aside, and tried to break to + her the sad news: but her own grief overcame her, and bursting into tears + she bewailed the loss of her son. Josephine was greatly shocked. Death!—Raynal + dead—her true, kind friend dead—her benefactor dead. She clung + to her mother’s neck, and sobbed with her. Presently she withdrew her face + and suddenly hid it in both her hands. + </p> + <p> + She rose and kissed her mother once more: and went to her own room: and + then, though there was none to see her, she hid her wet, but burning, + cheeks in her hands. + </p> + <p> + Josephine confined herself for some days to her own room, leaving it only + to go to the chapel in the park, where she spent hours in prayers for the + dead and in self-humiliation. Her “tender conscience” accused herself + bitterly for not having loved this gallant spirit more than she had. + </p> + <p> + Camille realized nothing at first; he looked all confused in the doctor’s + face, and was silent. Then after awhile he said, “Dead? Raynal dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Killed in action.” + </p> + <p> + A red flush came to Camille’s face, and his eyes went down to the ground + at his very feet, nor did he once raise them while the doctor told him how + the sad news had come. “Picard the notary brought us the Moniteur, and + there was Commandant Raynal among the killed in a cavalry skirmish.” With + this, he took the journal from his pocket, and Camille read it, with + awe-struck, and other feelings he would have been sorry to see analyzed. + He said not a word; and lowered his eyes to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Aubertin, “you will excuse me. I must go to my poor friend + the baroness. She had a mother’s love for him who is no more: well she + might.” + </p> + <p> + Aubertin went away, and left Dujardin standing there like a statue, his + eyes still glued to the ground at his feet. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was no sooner out of sight, than Camille raised his eyes + furtively, like a guilty person, and looked irresolutely this way and + that: at last he turned and went back to the place where he had meditated + suicide and murder; looked down at it a long while, then looked up to + heaven—then fell suddenly on his knees: and so remained till + night-fall. Then he came back to the chateau. + </p> + <p> + He whispered to himself, “And I am afraid it is too late to go away + to-night.” He went softly into the saloon. Nobody was there but Rose and + Aubertin. At sight of him Rose got up and left the room. But I suppose she + went to Josephine; for she returned in a few minutes, and rang the bell, + and ordered some supper to be brought up for Colonel Dujardin. + </p> + <p> + “You have not dined, I hear,” said she, very coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you were gone altogether,” said the doctor: then turning to + Rose, “He told me he was going this evening. You had better stay quiet + another day or two,” added he, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” said Camille, timidly. + </p> + <p> + He stayed upon these terms. And now he began to examine himself. “Did I + wish him dead? I hope I never formed such a thought! I don’t remember ever + wishing him dead.” And he went twice a day to that place by the stream, + and thought very solemnly what a terrible thing ungoverned passion is; and + repented—not eloquently, but silently, sincerely. + </p> + <p> + But soon his impatient spirit began to torment itself again. Why did + Josephine shun him now? Ah! she loved Raynal now that he was dead. Women + love the thing they have lost; so he had heard say. In that case, the very + sight of him would of course be odious to her: he could understand that. + The absolute, unreasoning faith he once had in her had been so rudely + shaken by her marriage with Raynal, that now he could only believe just so + much as he saw, and he saw that she shunned him. + </p> + <p> + He became moody, sad, and disconsolate: and as Josephine shunned him, so + he avoided all the others, and wandered for hours by himself, perplexed + and miserable. After awhile, he became conscious that he was under a sort + of surveillance. Rose de Beaurepaire, who had been so kind to him when he + was confined to his own room, but had taken little notice of him since he + came down, now resumed her care of him, and evidently made it her business + to keep up his heart. She used to meet him out walking in a mysterious + way, and in short, be always falling in with him and trying to cheer him + up: with tolerable success. + </p> + <p> + Such was the state of affairs when the party was swelled and matters + complicated by the arrival of one we have lost sight of. + </p> + <p> + Edouard Riviere retarded his cure by an impatient spirit: but he got well + at last, and his uncle drove him in the cabriolet to his own quarters. The + news of the house had been told him by letter, but, of course, in so vague + and general a way that, thinking he knew all, in reality he knew nothing. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had married Raynal. The marriage was sudden, but no doubt there + was an attachment: he had some reason to believe in sudden attachments. + Colonel Dujardin, an old acquaintance, had come back to France wounded, + and the good doctor had undertaken his cure: this incident appeared + neither strange nor any way important. What affected him most deeply was + the death of Raynal, his personal friend and patron. But when his tyrants, + as he called the surgeon and his uncle, gave him leave to go home, all + feelings were overpowered by his great joy at the prospect of seeing Rose. + He walked over to Beaurepaire, his arm in a sling, his heart beating. He + was coming to receive the reward of all he had done, and all he had + attempted. “I will surprise them,” thought he. “I will see her face when I + come in at the door: oh, happy hour! this pays for all.” He entered the + house without announcing himself; he went softly up to the saloon; to his + great disappointment he found no one but the baroness: she received him + kindly, but not with the warmth he expected. She was absorbed in her new + grief. He asked timidly after her daughters. “Madame Raynal bears up, for + the sake of others. You will not, however, see her: she keeps her room. My + daughter Rose is taking a walk, I believe.” After some polite inquiries, + and sympathy with his accident, the baroness retired to indulge her grief, + and Edouard thus liberated ran in search of his beloved. + </p> + <p> + He met her at the gate of the Pleasaunce, but not alone. She was walking + with an officer, a handsome, commanding, haughty, brilliant officer. She + was walking by his side, talking earnestly to him. + </p> + <p> + An arrow of ice shot through young Riviere; and then came a feeling of + death at his heart, a new symptom in his young life. + </p> + <p> + The next moment Rose caught sight of him. She flushed all over and uttered + a little exclamation, and she bounded towards him like a little antelope, + and put out both her hands at once. He could only give her one. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she cried with an accent of heavenly pity, and took his hand with + both hers. + </p> + <p> + This was like the meridian sun coming suddenly on a cold place. He was all + happiness. + </p> + <p> + When Josephine heard he was come her eye flashed, and she said quickly, “I + will come down to welcome him—dear Edouard!” + </p> + <p> + The sisters looked at one another. Josephine blushed. Rose smiled and + kissed her. She colored higher still, and said, “No, she was ashamed to go + down.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Look at my face.” + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing wrong with it, except that it eclipses other people’s, and + I have long forgiven you that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, dear Rose: look what a color it has, and a fortnight ago it was + pale as ashes.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; do you expect me to regret that?” + </p> + <p> + “Rose, I am a very bad woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you, dear? then hook this for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, love. But I sometimes think you would forgive me if you knew how + hard I pray to be better. Rose, I do try so to be as unhappy as I ought; + but I can’t, I can’t. My cold heart seems as dead to unhappiness as once + it was to happiness. Am I a heartless woman after all?” + </p> + <p> + “Not altogether,” said Rose dryly. “Fasten my collar, dear, and don’t + torment yourself. You have suffered much and nobly. It was Heaven’s will: + you bowed to it. It was not Heaven’s will that you should be blighted + altogether. Bow in this, too, to Heaven’s will: take things as they come, + and do cease to try and reconcile feelings that are too opposite to live + together.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! these are such comfortable words, Rose; but mamma will see this + dreadful color in my cheek, and what can I say to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Ten to one it will not be observed; and if it should, I will say it is + the excitement of seeing Edouard. Leave all to me.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine greeted Edouard most affectionately, drew from him his whole + history, and petted him and sympathized with him deliciously, and made him + the hero of the evening. Camille, who was not naturally of a jealous + temper, bore this very well at first, but at last he looked so bitter at + her neglect of him, that Rose took him aside to soothe him. Edouard, + missing the auditor he most valued, and seeing her in secret conference + with the brilliant colonel, felt a return of the jealous pangs that had + seized him at first sight of the man; and so they played at cross + purposes. + </p> + <p> + At another period of the evening the conversation became more general; and + Edouard took a dislike to Colonel Dujardin. A young man of twenty-eight + nearly always looks on a boy of twenty-one with the air of a superior, and + this assumption, not being an ill-natured one, is apt to be so easy and so + undefined that the younger hardly knows how to resent or to resist it. But + Edouard was a little vain as we know; and the Colonel jarred him terribly. + His quick haughty eye jarred him. His regimentals jarred him: they fitted + like a glove. His mustache and his manner jarred him, and, worst of all, + his cool familiarity with Rose, who seemed to court him rather than be + courted by him. He put this act of Rose’s to the colonel’s account, + according to the custom of lovers, and revenged himself in a small way by + telling Josephine in her ear “that the colonel produced on his mind the + effect of an intolerable puppy.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine colored up and looked at him with a momentary surprise. She said + quietly, “Military men do give themselves some airs, but he is very + amiable at bottom. You must make a better acquaintance with him, and then + he will reveal to you his nobler qualities.”—“Oh! I have no + particular desire,” sneered unlucky Edouard. Sweet as Josephine was, this + was too much for her: she said nothing; but she quietly turned Edouard + over to Aubertin, and joined Rose, and under cover of her had a sweet + timid chat with her falsely accused. + </p> + <p> + This occupied the two so entirely that Edouard was neglected. This hurt + his foible, and seemed to be so unkind on the very first day of his return + that he made his adieus to the baroness, and marched off in dudgeon + unobserved. + </p> + <p> + Rose missed him first, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + When Josephine saw he was gone, she uttered a little exclamation, and + looked at Rose. Rose put on a mien of haughty indifference, but the water + was in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked sorrowful. + </p> + <p> + When they talked over everything together at night, she reproached + herself. “We behaved ill to poor Edouard: we neglected him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a little cross, ill-tempered fellow,” said Rose pettishly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! no!” + </p> + <p> + “And as vain as a peacock.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he not some right to be vain in this house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—no. I am very angry with him. I won’t hear a word in his + favor,” said Rose pouting: then she gave his defender a kiss. “Yes, dear,” + said Josephine, answering the kiss, and ignoring the words, “he is a dear; + and he is not cross, nor so very vain, poor boy! now don’t you see what it + was?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do, you little cunning thing: you are too shrewd not to see + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed, Josephine; do tell me, don’t keep me waiting: I can’t bear + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—jealous! A little.” + </p> + <p> + “Jealous? Oh, what fun! Of Camille? Ha! ha! Little goose!” + </p> + <p> + “And,” said Josephine very seriously, “I almost think he would be jealous + of any one that occupied your attention. I watched him more or less all + the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better. I’ll torment my lord.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid you should be so cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I will not make him unhappy, but I’ll tease him a little; it is not + in nature to abstain.” + </p> + <p> + This foible detected in her lover, Rose was very gay at the prospect of + amusement it afforded her. + </p> + <p> + And I think I have many readers who at this moment are awaiting unmixed + enjoyment and hilarity from the same source. + </p> + <p> + I wish them joy of their prospect. + </p> + <p> + Edouard called the next day: he wore a gloomy air. Rose met this with a + particularly cheerful one; on this, Edouard’s face cleared up, and he was + himself again; agreeable as this was, Rose felt a little disappointed. “I + am afraid he is not very jealous after all,” thought she. + </p> + <p> + Josephine left her room this day and mingled once more with the family. + The bare sight of her was enough for Camille at first, but after awhile he + wanted more. He wanted to be often alone with her; but several causes + co-operated to make her shy of giving him many such opportunities: first, + her natural delicacy, coupled with her habit of self-denial; then her fear + of shocking her mother, and lastly her fear of her own heart, and of + Camille, whose power over her she knew. For Camille, when he did get a + sweet word alone with her, seemed to forget everything except that she was + his betrothed, and that he had come back alive to marry her. He spoke to + her of his love with an ardor and an urgency that made her thrill with + happiness, but at the same time shrink with a certain fear and + self-reproach. Possessed with a feeling no stronger than hers, but single, + he did not comprehend the tumult, the trouble, the daily contest in her + heart. The wind seemed to him to be always changing, and hot and cold the + same hour. Since he did not even see that she was acting in hourly fear of + her mother’s eye, he was little likely to penetrate her more hidden + sentiments; and then he had not touched her key-note,—self-denial. + </p> + <p> + Women are self-denying and uncandid. Men are self-indulgent and outspoken. + </p> + <p> + And this is the key to a thousand double misunderstandings; for believe + me, good women are just as stupid in misunderstanding men as honest men + are in misunderstanding women. + </p> + <p> + To Camille, Josephine’s fluctuations, joys, tremors, love, terror, + modesty, seemed one grand total, caprice. The component parts of it he saw + not; and her caprice tortured him almost to madness. Too penitent to give + way again to violent passion, he gently fretted. His health retrograded + and his temper began to sour. The eye of timid love that watched him with + maternal anxiety from under its long lashes saw this with dismay, and + Rose, who looked into her sister’s bosom, devoted herself once more to + soothe him without compromising Josephine’s delicacy. Matters were not so + bad but what a fine sprightly girl like Rose could cheer up a dejected but + manly colonel; and Rose was generally successful. + </p> + <p> + But then, unfortunately, this led to a fresh mystification. Riviere’s + natural jealousy revived, and found constant food in the attention Rose + paid Camille, a brilliant colonel living in the house while he, poor + wretch, lived in lodgings. The false position of all the parties brought + about some singular turns. I give from their number one that forms a link, + though a small one, in my narrative. + </p> + <p> + One day Edouard came to tell Rose she was making him unhappy; he had her + alone in the Pleasaunce; she received him with a radiant smile, and they + had a charming talk,—a talk all about HIM: what the family owed him, + etc. + </p> + <p> + On this, his late jealousy and sense of injury seemed a thing of three + years ago, and never to return. So hard it is for the loving heart to + resist its sun. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha came with a message from the colonel: “Would it be agreeable to + Mademoiselle Rose to walk with him at the usual hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Rose. + </p> + <p> + As Jacintha was retiring Edouard called to her to stop a minute. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to Rose, he begged her very ceremoniously to reconsider that + determination. + </p> + <p> + “What determination?” + </p> + <p> + “To sacrifice me to this Colonel Dujardin.” Still politely, only a little + grimly. + </p> + <p> + Rose opened her eyes. “Are you mad?” inquired she with quiet hauteur. + </p> + <p> + “Neither mad nor a fool,” was the reply. “I love you too well to share + your regard with any one, upon any terms; least of all upon these, that + there is to be a man in the world at whose beck and call you are to be, + and at whose orders you are to break off an interview with me. Perdition!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Edouard, what folly! Can you suspect me of discourtesy, as well as + of—I know not what. Colonel Dujardin will join us, that is all, and + we shall take a little walk with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I. I decline the intrusion; you are engaged with me, and I have + things to say to you that are not fit for that puppy to hear. So choose + between me and him, and choose forever.” + </p> + <p> + Rose colored. “I should be very sorry to choose either of you forever; but + for this afternoon I choose you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you—my whole life shall prove my gratitude for this + preference.” + </p> + <p> + Rose beckoned Jacintha, and sent her with an excuse to Colonel Dujardin. + She then turned with an air of mock submission to Edouard. “I am at + monsieur’s ORDERS.” + </p> + <p> + Then this unhappy novice, being naturally good-natured, thanked her again + and again for her condescension in setting his heart at rest. He proposed + a walk, since his interference had lost her one. She yielded a cold + assent. This vexed him, but he took it for granted it would wear off + before the end of the walk. Edouard’s heart bounded, but he loved her too + sincerely to be happy unless he could see her happy too; the malicious + thing saw this, or perhaps knew it by instinct, and by means of this good + feeling of his she revenged herself for his tyranny. She tortured him as + only a woman can torture, and as even she can torture only a worthy man, + and one who loves her. In the course of that short walk this inexperienced + girl, strong in the instincts and inborn arts of her sex, drove pins and + needles, needles and pins, of all sorts and sizes, through her lover’s + heart. + </p> + <p> + She was everything by turns, except kind, and nothing for long together. + She was peevish, she was ostentatiously patient and submissive, she was + inattentive to her companion and seemingly wrapped up in contemplation of + absent things and persons, the colonel to wit; she was dogged, repulsive, + and cold; and she never was herself a single moment. They returned to the + gate of the Pleasaunce. “Well, mademoiselle,” said Riviere very sadly, + “that interloper might as well have been with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he might, and you would have lost nothing by permitting me to + be courteous to a guest and an invalid. If you had not played the tyrant, + and taken the matter into your own hands, I should have found means to + soothe your jeal—I mean your vanity; but you preferred to have your + own way. Well, you have had it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle, you have given me a lesson; you have shown me how idle + it is to attempt to force a young lady’s inclinations in anything.” + </p> + <p> + He bade her good-day, and went away sorrowful. + </p> + <p> + She cut Camille dead for the rest of the day. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, early, Edouard called expressly to see her. “Mademoiselle + Rose,” said he, humbly, “I called to apologize for the ungentlemanly tone + of my remonstrances yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Fiddle-dee,” said Rose. “Don’t do it again; that is the best apology.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not likely to offend so again,” said he sadly. “I am going away. I + am sorry to say I am promoted; my new post is ten leagues. HE WILL HAVE IT + ALL HIS OWN WAY NOW. But perhaps it is best. Were I to stay here, I + foresee you would soon lose whatever friendly feeling you have for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I so changeable? I am not considered so,” remonstrated Rose, gently. + </p> + <p> + Riviere explained; “I am not vain,” said he, with that self-knowledge + which is so general an attribute of human beings; “no man less so, nor am + I jealous; but I respect myself, and I could never be content to share + your time and your regard with Colonel Dujardin, nor with a much better + man. See now; he has made me arrogant. Was I ever so before?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! no! and I forgive you now, my poor Edouard.” + </p> + <p> + “He has made you cold as ice to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No! that was my own wickedness and spitefulness.” + </p> + <p> + “Wickedness, spitefulness! they are not in your nature. It is all that + wretch’s doing.” + </p> + <p> + Rose sighed, but she said nothing; for she saw that to excuse Camille + would only make the jealous one more bitter against him. + </p> + <p> + “Will you deign to write to me at my new post? once a month? in answer to + my letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear. But you will ride over sometimes to see us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; but for some little time I shall not be able. The duties of a + new post.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps in a month—a fortnight?” + </p> + <p> + “Sooner perhaps; the moment I hear that man is out of the house.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard went away, dogged and sad; Rose shut herself up in her room and + had a good cry. In the afternoon Josephine came and remonstrated with her. + “You have not walked with him at all to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “No; you must pet him yourself for once. I hate the sight of him; it has + made mischief between Edouard and me, my being so attentive to him. + Edouard is jealous, and I cannot wonder. After all, what right have I to + mystify him who honors me with his affection?” + </p> + <p> + Then, being pressed with questions by Josephine, she related to her all + that had passed between Edouard and her, word for word. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Camille!” sighed Josephine the just. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, yes! poor Camille! who has the power to make us all miserable, + and who does it, and will go on doing it until he is happy himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! would to Heaven I could make him as happy as he deserves to be.” + </p> + <p> + “You could easily make him much happier than that. And why not do it?” + </p> + <p> + “O Rose,” said Josephine, shocked, “how can you advise me so?” + </p> + <p> + She then asked her if she thought it possible that Camille could be + ignorant of her heart. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine,” replied Rose, angrily, “these men are absurd: they believe + only what they see. I have done what I can for you and Camille, but it is + useless. Would you have him believe you love him, you must yourself be + kind to him; and it would be a charitable action: you would make four + unhappy people happy, or, at least, put them on the road; NOW they are off + the road, and, by what I have seen to-day, I think, if we go on so much + longer, it will be too late to try to return. Come, Josephine, for my + sake! Let me go and tell him you will consent—to all our + happinesses. There, the crime is mine.” And she ran off in spite of + Josephine’s faint and hypocritical entreaties. She returns the next minute + looking all aghast. “It is too late,” said she. “He is going away. I am + sure he is, for he is packing up his things to go. I spied through the old + place and saw him. He was sighing like a furnace as he strapped his + portmanteau. I hate him, of course, but I was sorry for him. I could not + help being. He sighed so all the time, piteously.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine turned pale, and lifted her hands in surprise and dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Depend on it, Josephine, we are wrong,” said Rose, firmly: “these + wretches will not stand our nonsense above a certain time: they are not + such fools. We are mismanaging: one gone, the other going; both losing + faith in us.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s color returned to her cheek, and then mounted high. Presently + she smiled, a smile full of conscious power and furtive complacency, and + said quietly, “He will not go.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was pleased, but not surprised, to hear her sister speak so + confidently, for she knew her power over Camille. “That is right,” said + she, “go to him, and say two honest words: ‘I bid you stay.’” + </p> + <p> + “O Rose! no!” + </p> + <p> + “Poltroon! You know he would go down on his knees, and stay directly.” + </p> + <p> + “No: I should blush all my life before you and him. I COULD not. I should + let him go sooner, almost. Oh, no! I will never ask a man to stay who + wishes to leave me. But just you go to him, and say Madame Raynal is going + to take a little walk: will he do her the honor to be her companion? Not a + word more, if you love me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go. Hypocrite!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine received Camille with a bright smile. She seemed in unusually + good spirits, and overflowing with kindness and innocent affection. On + this his high gloomy brow relaxed, and all his prospects brightened as by + magic. Then she communicated to him a number of little plans for next week + and the week after. Among the rest he was to go with her and Rose to + Frejus. “Such a sweet place: I want to show it you. You will come?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a single moment: a moment of intense anxiety to the smiling + Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! he would come: it was a great temptation, he saw so little of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will see more of me now.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I see you every day—alone, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, if you wish it,” replied Josephine, in an off-hand, indifferent + way. + </p> + <p> + He seized her hand and devoured it with kisses. “Foolish thing!” murmured + she, looking down on him with ineffable tenderness. “Should I not be + always with you if I consulted my inclination?—let me go.” + </p> + <p> + “No! consult your inclination a little longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Must I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that shall be your punishment.” + </p> + <p> + “For what? What have I done?” asked she with an air of great innocence. + </p> + <p> + “You have made me happy, me who adore you,” was the evasive reply. + </p> + <p> + Josephine came in from her walk with a high color and beaming eyes, and + screamed, “Run, Rose!” + </p> + <p> + On this concise, and to us not very clear instruction, Rose slipped up the + secret stair. She saw Camille come in and gravely unpack his little + portmanteau, and dispose his things in the drawers with soldier-like + neatness, and hum an agreeable march. She came and told Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Josephine with a little sigh of pleasure, and a gentle triumph + in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + She had not only got her desire, but had arrived at it her way,—woman’s + way, round about. + </p> + <p> + This adroit benevolence led to more than she bargained for. She and + Camille were now together every day: and their hearts, being under + restraint in public, melted together all the more in their stolen + interviews. + </p> + <p> + At the third delicious interview the modest Camille begged Josephine to be + his wife directly. + </p> + <p> + Have you noticed those half tame deer that come up to you in a park so + lovingly, with great tender eyes, and, being now almost within reach, stop + short, and with bodies fixed like statues on pedestals, crane out their + graceful necks for sugar, or bread, or a chestnut, or a + pocket-handkerchief? Do but offer to put your hand upon them, away they + bound that moment twenty yards, and then stand quite still, and look at + your hand and you, with great inquiring, suspicious, tender eyes. + </p> + <p> + So Josephine started at Camille’s audacious proposal. “Never mention such + a thing to me again: or—or, I will not walk with you any more:” then + she thrilled with pleasure at the obnoxious idea, “she Camille’s wife!” + and colored all over—with rage, Camille thought. He promised + submissively not to renew the topic: no more he did till next day. + Josephine had spent nearly the whole interval in thinking of it; so she + was prepared to put him down by calm reasons. She proceeded to do so, + gently, but firmly. + </p> + <p> + Lo and behold! what does he do, but meets her with just as many reasons, + and just as calm ones: and urges them gently, but firmly. + </p> + <p> + Heaven had been very kind to them: why should they be unkind to + themselves? They had had a great escape: why not accept the happiness, as, + being persons of honor, they had accepted the misery? with many other + arguments, differing in other things, but agreeing in this, that they were + all sober, grave, and full of common-sense. + </p> + <p> + Finding him not defenceless on the score of reason, she shifted her ground + and appealed to his delicacy. On this he appealed to her love, and then + calm reason was jostled off the field, and passion and sentiment battled + in her place. + </p> + <p> + In these contests day by day renewed, Camille had many advantages. + </p> + <p> + Rose, though she did not like him, had now declared on his side. She + refused to show him the least attention. This threw him on Josephine: and + when Josephine begged her to help reduce Camille to reason, her answer + would be,— + </p> + <p> + “Hypocrite!” with a kiss: or else she would say, with a half comic + petulance, “No! no! I am on his side. Give him his own way, or he will + make us all four miserable.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Josephine’s ally went over to the enemy. + </p> + <p> + And then this coy young lady’s very power of resistance began to give way. + She had now battled for months against her own heart: first for her + mother; then, in a far more terrible conflict for Raynal, for honor and + purity; and of late she had been battling, still against her own heart, + for delicacy, for etiquette, things very dear to her, but not so great, + holy, and sustaining as honor and charity that were her very household + gods: and so, just when the motives of resistance were lowered, the length + of the resistance began to wear her out. + </p> + <p> + For nothing is so hard to her sex as a long steady struggle. In matters + physical, this is the thing the muscles of the fair cannot stand; in + matters intellectual and moral, the long strain it is that beats them + dead. + </p> + <p> + Do not look for a Bacona, a Newtona, a Handella, a Victoria Huga. + </p> + <p> + Some American ladies tell us education has stopped the growth of these. + </p> + <p> + No! mesdames. These are not in nature. + </p> + <p> + They can bubble letters in ten minutes that you could no more deliver to + order in ten days than a river can play like a fountain. They can sparkle + gems of stories: they can flash little diamonds of poems. The entire sex + has never produced one opera nor one epic that mankind could tolerate: and + why? these come by long, high-strung labor. But, weak as they are in the + long run of everything but the affections (and there giants), they are all + overpowering while their gallop lasts. Fragilla shall dance any two of you + flat on the floor before four o’clock, and then dance on till the peep of + day. + </p> + <p> + Only you trundle off to your business as usual, and could dance again the + next night, and so on through countless ages. + </p> + <p> + She who danced you into nothing is in bed, a human jelly tipped with + headache. + </p> + <p> + What did Josephine say to Rose one day? “I am tired of saying ‘No! no! no! + no! no!’ forever and ever to him I love.” + </p> + <p> + But this was not all. She was not free from self-reproach. Camille’s faith + in her had stood firm. Hers in him had not. She had wronged him, first by + believing him false, then by marrying another. One day she asked his + pardon for this. He replied that he had forgiven that; but would she be + good enough to make him forget it? + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could.” + </p> + <p> + “You can. Marry me: then your relation to that man will seem but a hideous + dream. I shall be able to say, looking at you, my wife, ‘I was faithful: I + suffered something for her; I came home: she loved me still; the proof is, + she was my wife within three months of my return.’” + </p> + <p> + When he said that to her in the Pleasaunce, if there had been a priest at + hand—. In a word, Josephine longed to show him her love, yet wished + not to shock her mother, nor offend her own sense of delicacy; but Camille + cared for nothing but his love. To sacrifice love and happiness, even for + a time, to etiquette, seemed to him to be trifling with the substance of + great things for the shadow of petty things; and he said so: sometimes + sadly, sometimes almost bitterly. + </p> + <p> + So Josephine was a beleagured fortress, attacked with one will, and + defended by troops, one-third of which were hot on the side of the + besiegers. + </p> + <p> + When singleness attacks division, you know the result beforehand. Why then + should I spin words? I will not trace so ill-matched a contest step by + step, sentence by sentence: let me rather hasten to relate the one + peculiarity that arose out of this trite contest, where, under the names + of Camille and Josephine, the two great sexes may be seen acting the whole + world-wide distich,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It’s a man’s part to try, + And a woman’s to deny [for a while?].” + </pre> + <p> + Finding her own resolutions oozing away, Josephine caught at another + person. + </p> + <p> + She said to Camille before Rose,— + </p> + <p> + “Even if I could bring myself to snatch at happiness in this indelicate + way—scarce a month after, oh!” And there ended the lady’s sentence. + In the absence of a legitimate full stop, she put one hand before her + lovely face to hide it, and so no more. But some two minutes after she + delivered the rest in the form and with the tone of a distinct remark, + “No: my mother would never consent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she would if you could be brought to implore her as earnestly as I + implore you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now would she?” asked Josephine, turning quickly to her sister. + </p> + <p> + “No, never. Our mother would look with horror on such a proposal. A + daughter of hers to marry within a twelvemonth of her widowhood!” + </p> + <p> + “There, you see, Camille.” + </p> + <p> + “And, besides, she loved Raynal so; she has not forgotten him as we have, + almost.” + </p> + <p> + “Ungrateful creature that I am!” sighed Josephine! + </p> + <p> + “She mourns for him every day. Often I see her eyes suddenly fill; that is + for him. Josephine’s influence with mamma is very great: it is double + mine: but if we all went on our knees to her, the doctor and all, she + would never consent.” + </p> + <p> + “There you see, Camille: and I could not defy my mother, even for you.” + </p> + <p> + Camille sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I see everything is against me, even my love: for that love is too much + akin to veneration to propose to you a clandestine marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you! bless you for respecting as well as loving me, dear + Camille,” said Josephine. + </p> + <p> + These words, uttered with gentle warmth, were some consolation to Camille, + and confirmed him, as they were intended to do, in the above good + resolution. He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Maladroit!” muttered Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Why maladroit?” asked Camille, opening his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Let us talk of something else,” replied Rose, coolly. + </p> + <p> + Camille turned red. He understood that he had done something very stupid, + but he could not conceive what. He looked from one sister to the other + alternately. Rose was smiling ironically, Josephine had her eyes bent + demurely on a handkerchief she was embroidering. + </p> + <p> + That evening Camille drew Rose aside, and asked for an explanation of her + “maladroit.” + </p> + <p> + “So it was,” replied Rose, sharply. + </p> + <p> + But as this did not make the matter quite clear, Camille begged a little + further explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Was it your part to make difficulties?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it for you to tell her a secret marriage would not be delicate? Do + you think she will be behind you in delicacy? or that a love without + respect will satisfy her? yet you must go and tell her you respected her + too much to ask her to marry you secretly. In other words, situated as she + is, you asked her not to marry you at all: she consented to that directly; + what else could you expect?” + </p> + <p> + “Maladroit! indeed,” said Camille, “but I would not have said it, only I + thought”— + </p> + <p> + “You thought nothing would induce her to marry secretly, so you said to + yourself, ‘I will assume a virtue: I will do a bit of cheap self-denial: + decline to the sound of trumpets what another will be sure to deny me if I + don’t—ha! ha!’—well, for your comfort, I am by no means so + sure she might not have been brought to do ANYTHING for you, except openly + defy mamma: but now of course”— + </p> + <p> + And here this young lady’s sentence ended: for the sisters, unlike in most + things, were one in grammar. + </p> + <p> + Camille was so disconcerted and sad at what he had done, that Rose began + to pity him: so she rallied him a little longer in spite of her pity: and + then all of a sudden gave him her hand, and said she would try and repair + the mischief. + </p> + <p> + He began to smother her hand with kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said she, “I don’t deserve all that: I have a motive of my own; let + me alone, child, do. Your unlucky speech will be quoted to me a dozen + times. Never mind.” + </p> + <p> + Rose went and bribed Josephine to consent. + </p> + <p> + “Come, mamma shall not know, and as for you, you shall scarcely move in + the matter; only do not oppose me very violently, and all will be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Rose!” said Josephine; “it is delightful—terrible, I mean—to + have a little creature about one that reads one like this. What shall I + do? What shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, do the best you can under all the circumstances. His wound is + healed, you know; he must go back to the army; you have both suffered to + the limits of mortal endurance. Is he to go away unhappy, in any doubt of + your affection? and you to remain behind with the misery of self-reproach + added to the desolation of absence?—think.” + </p> + <p> + “It is cruel. But to deceive my mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say deceive our mother; that is such a shocking phrase.” + </p> + <p> + Rose then reminded Josephine that their confessor had told them a wise + reticence was not the same thing as a moral deceit. She reminded her, too, + how often they had acted on his advice and always with good effect; how + many anxieties and worries they had saved their mother by reticence. + Josephine assented warmly to this. + </p> + <p> + Was there not some reason to think they had saved their mother’s very life + by these reticences? Josephine assented. “And, Josephine, you are of age; + you are your own mistress; you have a right to marry whom you please: and, + sooner or later, you will certainly marry Camille. I doubt whether even + our mother could prevail on you to refuse him altogether. So it is but a + question of time, and of giving our mother pain, or sparing her pain. Dear + mamma is old; she is prejudiced. Why shock her prejudices? She could not + be brought to understand the case: these things never happened in her day. + Everything seems to have gone by rule then. Let us do nothing to worry her + for the short time she has to live. Let us take a course between pain to + her and cruelty to you and Camille.” + </p> + <p> + These arguments went far to convince Josephine: for her own heart + supported them. She went from her solid objections to untenable ones—a + great point gained. She urged the difficulty, the impossibility of a + secret marriage. + </p> + <p> + Camille burst in here: he undertook at once to overcome these imaginary + difficulties. “They could be married at a distance.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find no priest who will consent to do such a wicked thing as + marry us without my mother’s knowledge,” objected Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as to that,” said Rose, “you know the mayor marries people nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not be married again without a priest,” said Josephine, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Camille. “I know a mayor who will do the civil forms for me, + and a priest who will marry me in the sight of Heaven, and both will keep + it secret for love of me till it shall please Josephine to throw off this + disguise.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the priest?” inquired Josephine, keenly. + </p> + <p> + “An old cure: he lives near Frejus: he was my tutor, and the mayor is the + mayor of Frejus, also an old friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “But what on earth will you say to them?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my affair: I must give them some reasons which compel me to keep + my marriage secret. Oh! I shall have to tell them some fibs, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “There, I thought so! I will not have you telling fibs; it lowers you.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it does; but you can’t have secrecy without a fib or two.” + </p> + <p> + “Fibs that will injure no one,” said Rose, majestically. + </p> + <p> + From this day Camille began to act as well as to talk. He bought a light + caleche and a powerful horse, and elected factotum Dard his groom. Camille + rode over to Frejus and told a made-up story to the old cure and the + mayor, and these his old friends believed every word he said, and readily + promised their services and strict secrecy. + </p> + <p> + He told the young ladies what he had done. + </p> + <p> + Rose approved. Josephine shook her head, and seeing matters going as her + heart desired and her conscience did not quite approve, she suddenly + affected to be next to nobody in the business—to be resigned, + passive, and disposed of to her surprise by Queen Rose and King Camille, + without herself taking any actual part in their proceedings. + </p> + <p> + At last the great day arrived on which Camille and Josephine were to be + married at Frejus. + </p> + <p> + The mayor awaited them at eleven o’clock. The cure at twelve. The family + had been duly prepared for this excursion by several smaller ones. + </p> + <p> + Rose announced their intention over night; a part of it. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” said she, blushing a little, “Colonel Dujardin is good enough to + take us to Frejus tomorrow. It is a long way, and we must breakfast early + or we shall not be back to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so, my child. I hope you will have a fine day: and mind you take + plenty of wraps with you in case of a shower.” + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock the next morning Camille and the two ladies took a hasty + cup of coffee together instead of breakfast, and then Dard brought the + caleche round. + </p> + <p> + The ladies got in, and Camille had just taken the reins in his hand, when + Jacintha screamed to him from the hall, “Wait a moment, colonel, wait a + moment! The doctor! don’t go without the doctor!” And the next moment Dr. + Aubertin appeared with his cloak on his arm, and, saluting the ladies + politely, seated himself quietly in the vehicle before the party had + recovered their surprise. + </p> + <p> + The ladies managed to keep their countenances, but Dujardin’s discomfiture + was evident. + </p> + <p> + He looked piteously at Josephine, and then asked Aubertin if they were to + set him down anywhere in particular. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; I am going with you to Frejus,” was the quiet reply. + </p> + <p> + Josephine quaked. Camille was devoured with secret rage: he lashed the + horse and away they went. + </p> + <p> + It was a silent party. The doctor seemed in a reverie. The others did not + know what to think, much less to say. Aubertin sat by Camille’s side; so + the latter could hold no secret communication with either lady. + </p> + <p> + Now it was not the doctor’s habit to rise at this time of the morning: yet + there he was, going with them to Frejus uninvited. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was in agony; had their intention transpired through some + imprudence of Camille? + </p> + <p> + Camille was terribly uneasy. He concluded the secret had transpired + through female indiscretion. Then they all tortured themselves as to the + old man’s intention. But what seemed most likely was, that he was with + them to prevent a clandestine marriage by his bare presence, without + making a scene and shocking Josephine’s pride: and if so, was he there by + his own impulse? No, it was rather to be feared that all this was done by + order of the baroness. There was a finesse about it that smacked of a + feminine origin, and the baroness was very capable of adopting such a + means as this, to spare her own pride and her favorite daughter’s. “The + clandestine” is not all sugar. A more miserable party never went along, + even to a wedding. + </p> + <p> + After waiting a long time for the doctor to declare himself, they turned + desperate, and began to chatter all manner of trifles. This had a good + effect: it roused Aubertin from his reverie, and presently he gave them + the following piece of information: “I told you the other day that a + nephew of mine was just dead; a nephew I had not seen for many years. + Well, my friends, I received last night a hasty summons to his funeral.” + </p> + <p> + “At Frejus?” + </p> + <p> + “No, at Paris. The invitation was so pressing, that I was obliged to go. + The letter informed me, however, that a diligence passes through Frejus, + at eleven o’clock, for Paris. I heard you say you were going to Frejus; so + I packed up a few changes of linen, and my MS., my work on entomology, + which at my last visit to the capital all the publishers were mad enough + to refuse: here it is. Apropos, has Jacintha put my bag into the + carriage?” + </p> + <p> + On this a fierce foot-search, and the bag was found. Meantime, Josephine + leaned back in her seat with a sigh of thankfulness. She was more intent + on not being found out than on being married. But Camille, who was more + intent on being married than on not being found out, was asking himself, + with fury, how on earth they should get rid of Aubertin in time. + </p> + <p> + Well, of course, under such circumstances as these the diligence did not + come to its time, nor till long after; and all the while, they were + waiting for it they were failing their rendezvous with the mayor, and + making their rendezvous with the curate impossible. But, above all, there + was the risk of one or other of those friends coming up and blurting all + out, taking for granted that the doctor must be in their confidence, or + why bring him. + </p> + <p> + At last, at half-past eleven o’clock, to their great relief, up came the + diligence. The doctor prepared to take his place in the interior, when the + conductor politely informed him that the vehicle stopped there a quarter + of an hour. + </p> + <p> + “In that case I will not abandon my friends,” said the doctor, + affectionately. + </p> + <p> + One of his friends gnashed his teeth at this mark of affection. But + Josephine smiled sweetly. + </p> + <p> + At last he was gone; but it wanted ten minutes only to twelve. + </p> + <p> + Josephine inquired amiably, whether it would not be as well to postpone + matters to another day—meaning forever. “My ARDOR is chilled,” said + she, and showed symptoms of crying at what she had gone through. + </p> + <p> + Camille replied by half dragging them to the mayor. That worthy received + them with profound, though somewhat demure respect, and invited them to a + table sumptuously served. The ladies, out of politeness, were about to + assent, but Camille begged permission to postpone that part until after + the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + At last, to their astonishment, they were married. Then, with a promise to + return and dine with the mayor, they went to the cure. Lo and behold! he + was gone to visit a sick person. “He had waited a long time for them,” + said the servant. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was much disconcerted, and showed a disposition to cry again. + The servant, a good-natured girl, nosed a wedding, and offered to run and + bring his reverence in a minute. + </p> + <p> + Presently there came an old silvery-haired man, who addressed them all as + his children. He took them to the church, and blessed their union; and for + the first time Josephine felt as if Heaven consented. They took a gentle + farewell of him, and went back to the mayor’s to dine; and at this stage + of the business Rose and Josephine at last effected a downright + simultaneous cry, apropos of nothing that was then occurring. + </p> + <p> + This refreshed them mightily, and they glowed at the mayor’s table like + roses washed with dew. + </p> + <p> + But oh! how glad at heart they all were to find themselves in the carriage + once more going home to Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + Rose and Josephine sat intertwined on the back seat; Camille, the reins in + his right hand, nearly turned his back on the horse, and leaned back over + to them and purred to Rose and his wife with ineffable triumph and + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + The lovers were in Elysium, and Rose was not a little proud of her good + management in ending all their troubles. Their mother received them back + with great, and as they fancied, with singular, affection. She was + beginning to be anxious about them, she said. Then her kindness gave these + happy souls a pang it never gave them before. + </p> + <p> + Since the above events scarce a fortnight had elapsed; but such a change! + Camille sunburnt and healthy, and full of animation and confidence; + Josephine beaming with suppressed happiness, and more beautiful than Rose + could ever remember to have seen her. For a soft halo of love and + happiness shone around her head; a new and indefinable attraction bloomed + on her face. She was a wife. Her eye, that used to glance furtively on + Camille, now dwelt demurely on him; dwelt with a sort of gentle wonder and + admiration as well as affection, and, when he came or passed very near + her, a keen observer might have seen her thrill. + </p> + <p> + She kept a good deal out of her mother’s way; for she felt within that her + face must be too happy. She feared to shock her mother’s grief with her + radiance. She was ashamed of feeling unmixed heaven. But the flood of + secret bliss she floated in bore all misgivings away. The pair were + forever stealing away together for hours, and on these occasions Rose used + to keep out of her mother’s sight, until they should return. So then the + new-married couple could wander hand in hand through the thick woods of + Beaurepaire, whose fresh green leaves were now just out, and hear the + distant cuckoo, and sit on mossy banks, and pour love into one another’s + eyes, and plan ages of happiness, and murmur their deep passion and their + bliss almost more than mortal; could do all this and more, without + shocking propriety. These sweet duets passed for trios: for on their + return Rose would be out looking for them, or would go and meet them at + some distance, and all three would go up together to the baroness, as from + a joint excursion. And when they went up to their bedrooms, Josephine + would throw her arms round her sister’s neck, and sigh, “It is not + happiness, it is beatitude!” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the baroness mourned for Raynal. Her grief showed no decrease. + Rose even fancied at times she wore a gloomy and discontented look as + well; but on reflection she attributed that to her own fancy, or to the + contrast that had now sprung up in her sister’s beaming complacency. + </p> + <p> + Rose, when she found herself left day after day alone for hours, was sad + and thought of Edouard. And this feeling gained on her day by day. + </p> + <p> + At last, one afternoon, she locked herself in her own room, and, after a + long contest with her pride, which, if not indomitable, was next door to + it, she sat down to write him a little letter. Now, in this letter, in the + place devoted by men to their after-thoughts, by women to their pretended + after-thoughts; i. e., to what they have been thinking of all through the + letter, she dropped a careless hint that all the party missed him very + much, “even the obnoxious colonel, who, by-the-by, has transferred his + services elsewhere. I have forgiven him that, because he has said civil + things about you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was reading her letter over again, to make sure that all the + principal expressions were indistinct, and that the composition generally, + except the postscript, resembled a Delphic oracle, when there was a hasty + footstep, and a tap at her door, and in came Jacintha, excited. + </p> + <p> + “He is come, mademoiselle,” cried she, and nodded her head like a + mandarin, only more knowingly; then she added, “So you may burn that.” For + her quick eye had glanced at the table. + </p> + <p> + “Who is come?” inquired Rose, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, your one?” + </p> + <p> + “My one?” asked the young lady, reddening, “my what?” + </p> + <p> + “The little one—Edouard—Monsieur Riviere.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Monsieur Riviere,” said Rose, acting nonchalance. “Why could you not + say so? you use such phrases, who can conjecture what you mean? I will + come to Monsieur Riviere directly; mamma will be so glad.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha gone, Rose tore up the letter and locked up the pieces, then ran + to the glass. Etc. + </p> + <p> + Edouard had been so profoundly miserable he could stand it no longer; in + spite of his determination not to visit Beaurepaire while it contained a + rival, he rode over to see whether he had not tormented himself idly: + above all, to see the beloved face. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha put him into the salle a manger. “By that you will see her + alone,” said the knowing Jacintha. He sat down, hat and whip in hand, and + wondered how he should be received—if at all. + </p> + <p> + In glides Rose all sprightliness and good-humor, and puts out her hand to + him; the which he kisses. + </p> + <p> + “How could I keep away so long?” asked he vaguely, and self-astonished. + </p> + <p> + “How indeed, and we missing you so all the time!” + </p> + <p> + “Have YOU missed me?” was the eager inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” was the cheerful reply; “but all the rest have.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the malicious thing gave a sudden start. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! such a piece of news; you remember Colonel Dujardin, the obnoxious + colonel?” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “Transferred his attentions. Fancy!” + </p> + <p> + “Who to?” + </p> + <p> + “To Josephine and mamma. But such are the military. He only wanted to get + rid of you: this done (through your want of spirit), he scorns the rich + prize; so now I scorn HIM. Will you come for a walk?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “We will go and look for my deserter. I say, tell me now; cannot I write + to the commander-in-chief about this? a soldier has no right to be a + deserter, has he? tell me, you are a public man, and know everything + except my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not too bad to tease me to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! but please! I have had few amusements of late. I find it so dull + without you to tease.” + </p> + <p> + Formal permission to tease being conceded, she went that instant on the + opposite tack, and began to tell him how she had missed him, and how sorry + she had been anything should have occurred to vex their kind good friend. + In short, Edouard spent a delightful day, for Rose took him one way to + meet Josephine, who, she knew, was coming another. At night the last + embers of jealousy got quenched, for Josephine was a wife now, and had + already begun to tell Camille all her little innocent secrets; and she + told him all about Edouard and Rose, and gave him his orders; so he + treated Rose with great respect before Edouard; but paid her no marked + attention; also he was affable to Riviere, who, having ceased to suspect, + began to like him. + </p> + <p> + In the course of the evening, the colonel also informed the baroness that + he expected every day an order to join the army of the Rhine. + </p> + <p> + Edouard pricked his ears. + </p> + <p> + The baroness said no more than politeness dictated. She did not press him + to stay, but treated his departure as a matter of course. Riviere rode + home late in the evening in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + The next day Rose varied her late deportment; she sang snatches of melody, + going about the house; it was for all the world like a bird chirping. In + the middle of one chirp Jacintha interfered. “Hush, mademoiselle, your + mamma! she is at the bottom of the corridor.” + </p> + <p> + “What was I thinking of?” said Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I dare say you know, mademoiselle,” replied the privileged domestic. + </p> + <p> + A letter of good news came from Aubertin. That summons to his nephew’s + funeral was an era in his harmless life. + </p> + <p> + The said nephew was a rich man and an oddity; one of those who love to + surprise folk. Moreover, he had no children, and detected his nephews and + nieces being unnaturally civil to him. “Waiting to cut me up,” was his + generous reading of them. So with this he made a will, and there defied, + as far as in him lay, the laws of nature; for he set his wealth a-flowing + backwards instead of forwards; he handed his property up to an ancestor, + instead of down to posterity. + </p> + <p> + All this the doctor’s pen set down with some humor, and in the calm spirit + with which a genuine philosopher receives prosperity as well as adversity. + Yet one natural regret escaped him; that all this wealth, since it was to + come, had not come a year or two sooner. + </p> + <p> + All at Beaurepaire knew what their dear old friend meant. + </p> + <p> + His other news to them was that they might expect him any moment. + </p> + <p> + So here was another cause of rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad,” said Josephine. “Now, perhaps, he will be able to publish + his poor dear entomology, that the booksellers were all so unkind, so + unfeeling about.” + </p> + <p> + I linger on the brink of painful scenes to observe that a sweet and loving + friendship, such as this was between the good doctor and three persons of + another sex, is one of the best treasures of the human heart. Poverty had + strengthened it; yet now wealth could not weaken it. With no tie of blood + it yet was filial, sisterly, brotherly, national, chivalrous; happy, + unalloyed sentiment, free from ups and downs, from heats and chills, from + rivalry, from caprice; and, indeed, from all mortal accidents but one—and + why say one? methinks death itself does but suspend these gentle, rare, + unselfish amities a moment, then waft them upward to their abiding home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + It was a fair morning in June: the sky was a bright, deep, lovely, + speckless blue: the flowers and bushes poured perfume, and sprinkled song + upon the balmy air. On such a day, so calm, so warm, so bright, so + scented, so tuneful, to live and to be young is to be happy. With gentle + hand it wipes all other days out of the memory; it smiles, it smells, it + sings, and clouds and rain and biting wind seem as far off and impossible + as grief and trouble. + </p> + <p> + Camille and Josephine had stolen out, and strolled lazily up and down + close under the house, drinking the sweet air, fragrant with perfume and + melody; the blue sky, and love. + </p> + <p> + Rose was in the house. She had missed them; but she thought they must be + near; for they seldom took long walks early in the day. Meeting Jacintha + on the landing of the great staircase, she asked her where her sister was. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Raynal is gone for a walk. She has taken the colonel with her. You + know she always takes the colonel out with her now.” + </p> + <p> + “That will do. You can finish your work.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha went into Camille’s room. + </p> + <p> + Rose, who had looked as grave as a judge while Jacintha was present, + bubbled into laughter. She even repeated Jacintha’s words aloud, and + chuckled over them. “You know she always takes the colonel out with her + now—ha, ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Rose!” sighed a distant voice. + </p> + <p> + She looked round, and saw the baroness at some distance in the corridor, + coming slowly towards her, with eyes bent gloomily on the ground. Rose + composed her features into a settled gravity, and went to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to speak with you,” said the baroness; “let us sit down; it is + cool here.” + </p> + <p> + Rose ran and brought a seat without a back, but well stuffed, and set it + against the wall. The old lady sat down and leaned back, and looked at + Rose in silence a good while; then she said,— + </p> + <p> + “There is room for you; sit down, for I want to speak seriously to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mamma; what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Turn a little round, and let me see your face.” + </p> + <p> + Rose complied; and began to feel a little uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you can guess what I am going to say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am going to put a question to you.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, dear mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “I invite you to explain to me the most singular, the most unaccountable + thing that ever fell under my notice. Will you do this for your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “O mamma! of course I will do anything to please you that I can; but, + indeed, I don’t know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady paused. The young one, naturally enough, felt a chill of + vague anxiety strike across her frame. + </p> + <p> + “Rose,” said the old lady, speaking very gently but firmly, and leaning in + a peculiar way on her words, while her eye worked like an ice gimlet on + her daughter’s face, “a little while ago, when my poor Raynal—our + benefactor—was alive—and I was happy—you all chilled my + happiness by your gloom: the whole house seemed a house of mourning—tell + me now why was this.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!” said Rose, after a moment’s hesitation, “we could hardly be gay. + Sickness in the house! And if Colonel Raynal was alive, still he was + absent, and in danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then it was out of regard for him we were all dispirited?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I suppose so,” said Rose, stoutly; but then colored high at her own + want of candor. However, she congratulated herself that her mother’s + suspicion was confined to past events. + </p> + <p> + Her self-congratulation on that score was short; for the baroness, after + eying her grimly for a second or two in silence, put her this awkward + question plump. + </p> + <p> + “If so, tell me why is it that ever since that black day when the news of + his DEATH reached us, the whole house has gone into black, and has gone + out of mourning?” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” stammered Rose, “what DO you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Even poor Camille, who was so pale and wan, has recovered like magic.” + </p> + <p> + “O mamma! is not that fancy?” said Rose, piteously. “Of what do you + suspect me? Can you think I am unfeeling—ungrateful? I should not be + YOUR daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the baroness, “to do you justice, you attempt sorrow; as + you put on black. But, my poor child, you do it with so little skill that + one sees a horrible gayety breaking through that thin disguise: you are no + true mourners: you are like the mutes or the undertakers at a funeral, + forced grief on the surface of your faces, and frightful complacency + below.” + </p> + <p> + “Tra la! lal! la! la! Tra la! la! Tra la! la!” carolled Jacintha, in the + colonel’s room hard by. + </p> + <p> + The ladies looked at one another: Rose in great confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Tra la! la! la! Tra lal! lal! la! la! la!” + </p> + <p> + “Jacintha!” screamed Rose angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! not a word,” said the baroness. “Why remonstrate with HER? Servants + are but chameleons: they take the color of those they serve. Do not cry. I + wanted your confidence, not your tears, love. There, I will not twice in + one day ask you for your heart: it would be to lower the mother, and give + the daughter the pain of refusing it, and the regret, sure to come one + day, of having refused it. I will discover the meaning of it all by + myself.” She went away with a gentle sigh; and Rose was cut to the heart + by her words; she resolved, whatever it might cost her and Josephine, to + make a clean breast this very day. As she was one of those who act + promptly, she went instantly in search of her sister, to gain her consent, + if possible. + </p> + <p> + Now, the said Josephine was in the garden walking with Camille, and + uttering a wife’s tender solicitudes. + </p> + <p> + “And must you leave me? must you risk your life again so soon; the life on + which mine depends?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, that letter I received from headquarters two days ago, that + inquiry whether my wound was cured. A hint, Josephine—a hint too + broad for any soldier not to take.” + </p> + <p> + “Camille, you are very proud,” said Josephine, with an accent of reproach, + and a look of approval. + </p> + <p> + “I am obliged to be. I am the husband of the proudest woman in France.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! not so loud: there is Dard on the grass.” + </p> + <p> + “Dard!” muttered the soldier with a word of meaning. “Josephine,” said he + after a pause, and a little peevishly, “how much longer are we to lower + our voices, and turn away our eyes from each other, and be ashamed of our + happiness?” + </p> + <p> + “Five months longer, is it not?” answered Josephine quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Five months longer!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine was hurt at this, and for once was betrayed into a serious and + merited remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “Is this just?” said she. “Think of two months ago: yes, but two months + ago, you were dying. You doubted my love, because it could not overcome my + virtue and my gratitude: yet you might have seen it was destroying my + life. Poor Raynal, my husband, my benefactor, died. Then I could do more + for you, if not with delicacy, at least with honor; but no! words, and + looks, and tender offices of love were not enough, I must give stronger + proof. Dear Camille, I have been reared in a strict school: and perhaps + none of your sex can know what it cost me to go to Frejus that day with + him I love.” + </p> + <p> + “My own Josephine!” + </p> + <p> + “I made but one condition: that you would not rob me of my mother’s + respect: to her our hasty marriage would appear monstrous, heartless. You + consented to be secretly happy for six months. One fortnight has passed, + and you are discontented again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! do not think so. It is every word true. I am an ungrateful + villain.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you say so? and to me! No! but you are a man.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have been told; but my conduct to you, sweet one, has not been that + of a man from first to last. Yet I could die for you, with a smile on my + lips. But when I think that once I lifted this sacrilegious hand against + your life—oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be silly, Camille. I love you all the better for loving me well + enough to kill me. What woman would not? I tell you, you foolish thing, + you are a man: monseigneur is one of the lordly sex, that is accustomed to + have everything its own way. My love, in a world that is full of misery, + here are two that are condemned to be secretly happy a few months longer: + a hard fate for one of your sex, it seems: but it is so much sweeter than + the usual lot of mine, that really I cannot share your misery,” and she + smiled joyously. + </p> + <p> + “Then share my happiness, my dear wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I do; only mine is deep, not loud.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Dard is gone, and we are out of doors; will the little birds betray + us?” + </p> + <p> + “The lower windows are open, and I saw Jacintha in one of the rooms.” + </p> + <p> + “Jacintha? we are in awe of the very servants. Well, if I must not say it + loud I will say it often,” and putting his mouth to her ear, he poured a + burning whisper of love into it—“My love! my angel! my wife! my + wife! my wife!” + </p> + <p> + She turned her swimming eyes on him. + </p> + <p> + “My husband!” she whispered in return. + </p> + <p> + Rose came out, and found them billing and cooing. “You MUST not be so + happy, you two,” said she authoritatively. + </p> + <p> + “How can we help it?” asked Camille. + </p> + <p> + “You must and shall help it, somehow,” retorted this little tyrant. “Mamma + suspects. She has given me such a cross-examination, my blood runs cold. + No, on second thoughts, kiss her again, and you may both be as happy as + you like; for I am going to tell mamma all, and no power on earth shall + hinder me.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose,” said Camille, “you are a sensible girl; and I always said so.” + </p> + <p> + But Josephine was horrified. “What! tell my mother that within a month of + my husband’s death?”— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say your husband,” put in Camille wincing; “the priest never + confirmed that union; words spoken before a magistrate do not make a + marriage in the sight of Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine cut him short. “Amongst honorable men and women all oaths are + alike sacred: and Heaven’s eye is in a magistrate’s room as in a church. A + daughter of Beaurepaire gave her hand to him, and called herself his wife. + Therefore, she was his wife: and is his widow. She owes him everything; + the house you are all living in among the rest. She ought to be proud of + her brief connection with that pure, heroic spirit, and, when she is so + little noble as to disown him, then say that gratitude and justice have no + longer a place among mankind.” + </p> + <p> + “Come into the chapel,” said Camille, with a voice that showed he was + hurt. + </p> + <p> + They entered the chapel, and there they saw something that thoroughly + surprised them: a marble monument to the memory of Raynal. It leaned at + present against the wall below the place prepared to receive it. The + inscription, short, but emphatic, and full of feeling, told of the battles + he had fought in, including the last fatal skirmish, and his marriage with + the heiress of Beaurepaire; and, in a few soldier-like words, the + uprightness, simplicity, and generosity of his character. + </p> + <p> + They were so touched by this unexpected trait in Camille that they both + threw their arms round his neck by one impulse. “Am I wrong to be proud of + him?” said Josephine, triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t say too much to me,” said Camille, looking down confused. + “One tries to be good; but it is very hard—to some of us—not + to you, Josephine; and, after all, it is only the truth that we have + written on that stone. Poor Raynal! he was my old comrade; he saved me + from death, and not a soldier’s death—drowning; and he was a better + man than I am, or ever shall be. Now he is dead, I can say these things. + If I had said them when he was alive, it would have been more to my + credit.” + </p> + <p> + They all three went back towards the house; and on the way Rose told them + all that had passed between the baroness and her. When she came to the + actual details of that conversation, to the words, and looks, and tones, + Josephine’s uneasiness rose to an overpowering height; she even admitted + that further concealment would be very difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Better tell her than let her find out,” said Rose. “We must tell her some + day.” + </p> + <p> + At last, after a long and agitated discussion, Josephine consented; but + Rose must be the one to tell. “So then, you at least will make your peace + with mamma,” argued Josephine, “and let us go in and do this before our + courage fails; besides, it is going to rain, and it has turned cold. Where + have all these clouds come from? An hour ago there was not one in the + sky.” + </p> + <p> + They went, with hesitating steps and guilty looks, to the saloon. Their + mother was not there. Here was a reprieve. + </p> + <p> + Rose had an idea. She would take her to the chapel, and show her the + monument, and that would please her with poor Camille. “After that,” said + Rose, “I will begin by telling her all the misery you have both gone + through; and, when she pities you, then I will show her it was all my + fault your misery ended in a secret marriage.” + </p> + <p> + The confederates sat there in a chilly state, waiting for the baroness. At + last, as she did not come, Rose got up to go to her. “When the mind is + made up, it is no use being cowardly, and putting off,” said she, firmly. + For all that, her cheek had but little color left in it, when she left her + chair with this resolve. + </p> + <p> + Now as Rose went down the long saloon to carry out their united resolve, + Jacintha looked in; and, after a hasty glance to see who was present, she + waited till Rose came up to her, and then whipped a letter from under her + apron and gave it her. + </p> + <p> + “For my mistress,” said she, with an air of mystery. + </p> + <p> + “Why not take it to her, then?” inquired Rose. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might like to see it first, mademoiselle,” said Jacintha, + with quiet meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Is it from the dear doctor?” asked Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “La, no, mademoiselle, don’t you know the doctor is come home? Why, he has + been in the house near an hour. He is with my lady.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor proved Jacintha correct by entering the room in person soon + after; on this Rose threw down the letter, and she and the whole party + were instantly occupied in greeting him. + </p> + <p> + When the ladies had embraced him and Camille shaken hands with him, they + plied him with a thousand questions. Indeed, he had not half satisfied + their curiosity, when Rose happened to catch sight of the letter again, + and took it up to carry to the baroness. She now, for the first time, eyed + it attentively, and the consequence was she uttered an exclamation, and + took the first opportunity to beckon Aubertin. + </p> + <p> + He came to her; and she put the letter into his hand. + </p> + <p> + He put up his glasses, and eyed it. “Yes!” whispered he, “it is from HIM.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine and Camille saw something was going on; they joined the other + two, with curiosity in their faces. + </p> + <p> + Rose put her hand on a small table near her, and leaned a moment. She + turned half sick at a letter coming from the dead. Josephine now came + towards her with a face of concern, and asked what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + The reply came from Aubertin. “My poor friends,” said he, solemnly, “this + is one of those fearful things that you have not seen in your short lives, + but it has been more than once my lot to witness it. The ships that carry + letters from distant countries vary greatly in speed, and are subject to + detaining accidents. Yes, this is the third time I have seen a letter come + written by a hand known to be cold. The baroness is a little excited + to-day, I don’t know from what cause. With your approbation, Madame + Raynal, I will read this letter before I let her see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Read it, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I read it out?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. There may be some wish expressed in it; oh, I hope there is!” + </p> + <p> + Camille, from delicacy, retired to some little distance, and the doctor + read the letter in a low and solemn voice. + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR MOTHER,—I hope all are well at Beaurepaire, as I am, or I + hope soon to be. I received a wound in our last skirmish; not a very + severe one; but it put an end to my writing for some time.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow! it was his death wound. Why, when was this written?—why,” + and the doctor paused, and seemed stupefied: “why, my dears, has my memory + gone, or”—and again he looked eagerly at the letter—“what was + the date of the battle in which he was killed? for this letter is dated + the 15th of May. Is it a dream? no! this was written since the date of his + death.” + </p> + <p> + “No, doctor,” said Rose, “you deceive yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what was the date of the Moniteur, then?” asked Aubertin, in great + agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Considerably later than this,” said Camille. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so; the journal! where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “My mother has it locked up. I’ll run.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Rose; no one but me. Now, Josephine, do not you go and give way to + hopes that may be delusive. I must see that journal directly. I will go to + the baroness. I shall excuse her less than you would.” + </p> + <p> + He was scarcely gone when a cry of horror filled the room, a cry as of + madness falling like a thunderbolt on a human mind. It was Josephine, who + up to this had not uttered one word. But now she stood, white as a corpse, + in the middle of the room, and wrung her hands. “What have I done? What + shall I do? It was the 3d of May. I see it before me in letters of fire; + the 3d of May! the 3d of May!—and he writes the 15th.” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” cried Camille wildly. “It was long, long after time 3d.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the 3d of May,” repeated Josephine in a hoarse voice that none + would have known for hers. + </p> + <p> + Camille ran to her with words of comfort and hope; he did not share her + fears. He remembered about when the Moniteur came, though not the very + day. He threw his arm lovingly round her as if to protect her against + these shadowy terrors. Her dilating eyes seemed fixed on something distant + in space or time, at some horrible thing coming slowly towards her. She + did not see Camille approach her, but the moment she felt him she turned + upon him swiftly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you love me?” still in the hoarse voice that had so little in it of + Josephine. “I mean, does one grain of respect or virtue mingle in your + love for me?” + </p> + <p> + “What words are these, my wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Then leave Raynal’s house upon the instant. You wonder I can be so cruel? + I wonder too; and that I can see my duty so clear in one short moment. But + I have lived twenty years since that letter came. Oh! my brain has whirled + through a thousand agonies. And I have come back a thousand times to the + same thing; you and I must see each other’s face no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Rose, “is there no way but this?” + </p> + <p> + “Take care,” she screamed, wildly, to her and Camille, “I am on the verge + of madness; is it for you two to thrust me over the precipice? Come, now, + if you are a man of honor, if you have a spark of gratitude towards the + poor woman who has given you all except her fair name—that she will + take to the grave in spite of you all—promise that you will leave + Raynal’s house this minute if he is alive, and let me die in honor as I + have lived.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” cried Camille, terror-stricken; “it cannot be. Heaven is + merciful, and Heaven sees how happy we are. Be calm! these are idle fears; + be calm! I say. For if it is so I will obey you. I will stay; I will go; I + will die; I will live; I will obey you.” + </p> + <p> + “Swear this to me by the thing you hold most sacred,” she almost shrieked. + </p> + <p> + “I swear by my love for you,” was his touching reply. + </p> + <p> + Ere they had recovered a miserable composure after this passionate + outburst, all the more terrible as coming from a creature so tender as + Josephine, agitated voices were heard at the door, and the baroness + tottered in, followed by the doctor, who was trying in vain to put some + bounds to her emotion and her hopes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my children! my children!” cried she, trembling violently. “Here, + Rose, my hands shake so; take this key, open the cabinet, there is the + Moniteur. What is the date?” + </p> + <p> + The journal was found, and rapidly examined. The date was the 20th of May. + </p> + <p> + “There!” cried Camille. “I told you!” + </p> + <p> + The baroness uttered a feeble moan. Her hopes died as suddenly as they had + been born, and she sank drooping into a chair, with a bitter sigh. + </p> + <p> + Camille stole a joyful look at Josephine. She was in the same attitude + looking straight before her as at a coming horror. Presently Rose uttered + a faint cry, “The battle was BEFORE.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” cried the doctor. “You forget, it is not the date of the + paper we want, but of the battle it records. For Heaven’s sake, when was + the battle?” + </p> + <p> + “The 3d of May,” said Josephine, in a voice that seemed to come from the + tomb. + </p> + <p> + Rose’s hands that held the journal fell like a dead weight upon her knees, + journal and all. She whispered, “It was the 3d of May.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried the baroness, starting up, “he may yet be alive. He must be + alive. Heaven is merciful! Heaven would not take my son from me, a poor + old woman who has not long to live. There was a letter; where is the + letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Are we mad, not to read the letter?” said the doctor. “I had it; it has + dropped from my old fingers when I went for the journal.” + </p> + <p> + A short examination of the room showed the letter lying crumpled up near + the door. Camille gave it to the baroness. She tried to read it, but could + not. + </p> + <p> + “I am old,” said she; “my hand shakes and my eyes are troubled. This young + gentleman will read it to us. His eyes are not dim and troubled. Something + tells me that when I hear this letter, I shall find out whether my son + lives. Why do you not read it to me, Camille?” cried she, almost fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Camille, thus pressed, obeyed mechanically, and began to read Raynal’s + letter aloud, scarce knowing what he did, but urged and driven by the + baroness. + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR MOTHER,—I hope all are well at Beaurepaire, as I am, or I + hope soon to be. I received a wound in our last skirmish; not a very + severe one, but it put an end to my writing for some time.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, dear Camille! go on.” + </p> + <p> + “The page ends there, madame.” + </p> + <p> + The paper was thin, and Camille, whose hand trembled, had some difficulty + in detaching the leaves from one another. He succeeded, however, at last, + and went on reading and writhing. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, you must address your next letter to me as Colonel Raynal. I + was promoted just before this last affair, but had not time to tell you; + and my wound stopped my writing till now.” + </p> + <p> + “There, there!” cried the baroness. “He was Colonel Raynal, and Colonel + Raynal was not killed.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor implored her not to interrupt. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Camille. Why do you hesitate? what is the matter? Do for pity’s + sake go on, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Camille cast a look of agony around, and put his hand to his brow, on + which large drops of cold perspiration, like a death dew, were gathering; + but driven to the stake on all sides, he gasped on rather than read, for + his eye had gone down the page. + </p> + <p> + “A namesake of mine, Commandant Raynal,”— + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “has not been—so fortunate. He”— + </p> + <p> + “Go on! go on!” + </p> + <p> + The wretched man could now scarcely utter Raynal’s words; they came from + him in a choking groan. + </p> + <p> + “he was killed, poor fellow! while heading a gallant charge upon the + enemy’s flank.” + </p> + <p> + He ground the letter convulsively in his hand, then it fell all crumpled + on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, Camille!” cried the baroness, “bless you! bless you! I have a + son still.” + </p> + <p> + She stooped with difficulty, took up the letter, and, kissing it again and + again, fell on her knees, and thanked Heaven aloud before them all. Then + she rose and went hastily out, and her voice was heard crying very loud, + “Jacintha! Jacintha!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor followed in considerable anxiety for the effects of this + violent joy on so aged a person. Three remained behind, panting and pale + like those to whom dead Lazarus burst the tomb, and came forth in a + moment, at a word. Then Camille half kneeled, half fell, at Josephine’s + feet, and, in a voice choked with sobs, bade her dispose of him. + </p> + <p> + She turned her head away. “Do not speak to me; do not look at me; if we + look at one another, we are lost. Go! die at your post, and I at mine.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed his head, and kissed her dress, then rose calm as despair, and + white as death, and, with his knees knocking under him, tottered away like + a corpse set moving. + </p> + <p> + He disappeared from the house. + </p> + <p> + The baroness soon came back, triumphant and gay. + </p> + <p> + “I have sent her to bid them ring the bells in the village. The poor shall + be feasted; all shall share our joy: my son was dead, and lives. Oh, joy! + joy! joy!” + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” shrieked Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Mad woman that I am, I am too boisterous. Help me, Rose! she is going to + faint; her lips are white.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin and Rose brought a chair. They forced Josephine into it. She + was not the least faint; yet her body obeyed their hands just like a dead + body. The baroness melted into tears; tears streamed from Rose’s eyes. + Josephine’s were dry and stony, and fixed on coming horror. The baroness + looked at her with anxiety. “Thoughtless old woman! It was too sudden; it + is too much for my dear child; too much for me,” and she kneeled, and laid + her aged head on her daughter’s bosom, saying feebly through her tears, + “too much joy, too much joy!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine took no notice of her. She sat like one turned to stone looking + far away over her mother’s head with rigid eyes fixed on the air and on + coming horrors. + </p> + <p> + Rose felt her arm seized. It was Aubertin. He too was pale now, though not + before. He spoke in a terrible whisper to Rose, his eye fixed on the woman + of stone that sat there. + </p> + <p> + “IS THIS JOY?” + </p> + <p> + Rose, by a mighty effort, raised her eyes and confronted his full. “What + else should it be?” said she. + </p> + <p> + And with these words this Spartan girl was her sister’s champion once more + against all comers, friend or foe. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin received one day a note from a publishing bookseller, to + inquire whether he still thought of giving the world his valuable work on + insects. The doctor was amazed. “My valuable work! Why, Rose, they all + refused it, and this person in particular recoiled from it as if my + insects could sting on paper.” + </p> + <p> + The above led to a correspondence, in which the convert to insects + explained that the work must be published at the author’s expense, the + publisher contenting himself with the profits. The author, thirsting for + the public, consented. Then the publisher wrote again to say that the + immortal treatise must be spiced; a little politics flung in: “Nothing + goes down, else.” The author answered in some heat that he would not + dilute things everlasting with the fleeting topics of the day, nor defile + science with politics. On this his Mentor smoothed him down, despising him + secretly for not seeing that a book is a matter of trade and nothing else. + It ended in Aubertin going to Paris to hatch his Phoenix. He had not been + there a week, when a small deputation called on him, and informed him he + had been elected honorary member of a certain scientific society. The + compliment was followed by others, till at last certain ladies, with the + pliancy of their sex, find out they had always secretly cared for + butterflies. Then the naturalist smelt a rat, or, in other words, began to + scent that entomology, a form of idiocy in a poor man, is a graceful + decoration of the intellect in a rich one. + </p> + <p> + Philosopher without bile, he saw through this, and let it amuse, not shock + him. His own species, a singularly interesting one in my opinion, had + another trait in reserve for him. + </p> + <p> + He took a world of trouble to find out the circumstances of his nephew’s + nephews and nieces: then he made arrangements for distributing a large + part of his legacy among them. His intentions and the proportions of his + generosity transpired. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto they had been silent, but now they all fell-to and abused him: + each looking only to the amount of his individual share, not at the sum + total the doctor was giving way to an ungrateful lot. + </p> + <p> + The donor was greatly amused, and noted down the incident and some of the + remarks in his commonplace book, under the general head of “Bestiarium;” + and the particular head of “Homo.” + </p> + <p> + Paris with its seductions netted the good doctor, and held him two or + three months; would have detained him longer, but for alarming accounts + the baroness sent of Josephine’s health. These determined him to return to + Beaurepaire; and, must I own it, the announcement was no longer hailed at + Beaurepaire with universal joy as heretofore. + </p> + <p> + Josephine Raynal, late Dujardin, is by this time no stranger to my + intelligent reader. I wish him to bring his knowledge of her character and + her sensibility to my aid. Imagine, as the weary hours and days and weeks + roll over her head, what this loving woman feels for her lover whom she + has dismissed; what this grateful wife feels for the benefactor she has + unwittingly wronged; but will never wrong with her eyes open; what this + lady pure as snow, and proud as fire, feels at the seeming frailty into + which a cruel combination of circumstances has entrapped her. + </p> + <p> + Put down the book a moment: shut your eyes: and imagine this strange and + complicated form of human suffering. + </p> + <p> + Her mental sufferings were terrible; and for some time Rose feared for her + reason. At last her agonies subsided into a listlessness and apathy little + less alarming. She seemed a creature descending inch by inch into the + tomb. Indeed, I fully believe she would have died of despair: but one of + nature’s greatest forces stepped into the arena and fought on the side of + life. She was affected with certain bilious symptoms that added to Rose’s + uneasiness, but Jacintha assured her it was nothing, and would retire and + leave the sufferer better. Jacintha, indeed, seemed now to take a + particular interest in Josephine, and was always about her with looks of + pity and interest. + </p> + <p> + “Good creature!” thought Rose, “she sees my sister is unhappy: and that + makes her more attentive and devoted to her than ever.” + </p> + <p> + One day these three were together in Josephine’s room. Josephine was + mechanically combing her long hair, when all of a sudden she stretched out + her hand and cried, “Rose!” + </p> + <p> + Rose ran to her, and coming behind her saw in the glass that her lips were + colorless. She screamed to Jacintha, and between them they supported + Josephine to the bed. She had hardly touched it when she fainted dead + away. “Mamma! mamma!” cried Rose in her terror. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” cried Jacintha roughly, “hold your tongue: it is only a faint. + Help me loosen her: don’t make any noise, whatever.” They loosened her + stays, and applied the usual remedies, but it was some time before she + came-to. At last the color came back to her lips, then to her cheek, and + the light to her eye. She smiled feebly on Jacintha and Rose, and asked if + she had not been insensible. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, love, and frightened us—a little—not much—oh, + dear! oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be alarmed, sweet one, I am better. And I will never do it again, + since it frightens you.” Then Josephine said to her sister in a low voice, + and in the Italian language, “I hoped it was death, my sister; but he + comes not to the wretched.” + </p> + <p> + “If you hoped that,” replied Rose in the same language, “you do not love + your poor sister who so loves you.” + </p> + <p> + While the Italian was going on, Jacintha’s dark eyes glanced suspiciously + on each speaker in turn. But her suspicions were all wide of the mark. + </p> + <p> + “Now may I go and tell mamma?” asked Rose. + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle, you shall not,” said Jacintha. “Madame Raynal, do take + my side, and forbid her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is it to you?” said Rose, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “If it was not something to me, should I thwart my dear young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “No. And you shall have your own way, if you will but condescend to give + me a reason.” + </p> + <p> + This to some of us might appear reasonable, but not to Jacintha: it even + hurt her feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Rose,” she said, “when you were little and used to ask me + for anything, did I ever say to you, ‘Give me a REASON first’?” + </p> + <p> + “There! she is right,” said Josephine. “We should not make terms with + tried friends. Come, we will pay her devotion this compliment. It is such + a small favor. For my part I feel obliged to her for asking it.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s health improved steadily from that day. Her hollow cheeks + recovered their plump smoothness, and her beauty its bloom, and her person + grew more noble and statue-like than ever, and within she felt a sense of + indomitable vitality. Her appetite had for some time been excessively + feeble and uncertain, and her food tasteless; but of late, by what she + conceived to be a reaction such as is common after youth has shaken off a + long sickness, her appetite had been not only healthy but eager. The + baroness observed this, and it relieved her of a large portion of her + anxiety. One day at dinner her maternal heart was so pleased with + Josephine’s performance that she took it as a personal favor, “Well done, + Josephine,” said she; “that gives your mother pleasure to see you eat + again. Soup and bouillon: and now twice you have been to Rose for some of + that pate, which does you so much credit, Jacintha.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine colored high at this compliment. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said she, “I eat like a pig;” and, with a furtive glance at + the said pate, she laid down her knife and fork, and ate no more of + anything. The baroness had now a droll misgiving. + </p> + <p> + “The doctor will be angry with me,” said she: “he will find her as well as + ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Jacintha hastily, “when does the doctor come, if I may make + so bold, that I may get his room ready, you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well thought of, Jacintha. He comes the day after to-morrow, in the + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + At night when the young ladies went up to bed, what did they find but a + little cloth laid on a little table in Josephine’s room, and the remains + of the pate she had liked. Rose burst out laughing. “Look at that dear + duck of a goose, Jacintha! Our mother’s flattery sank deep: she thinks we + can eat her pates at all hours of the day and night. Shall I send it + away?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Josephine, “that would hurt her culinary pride, and perhaps her + affection: only cover it up, dear, for just now I am not in the humor: it + rather turns me.” + </p> + <p> + It was covered up. The sisters retired to rest. In the morning Rose lifted + the cover and found the plate cleared, polished. She was astounded. + </p> + <p> + The large tapestried chamber, once occupied by Camille Dujardin, was now + turned into a sitting-room, and it was a favorite on account of the + beautiful view from the windows. + </p> + <p> + One day Josephine sat there alone with some work in her hand; but the + needle often stopped, and the fair head drooped. She heaved a deep sigh. + To her surprise it was echoed by a sigh that, like her own, seemed to come + from a heart full of sighs. + </p> + <p> + She turned hastily round and saw Jacintha. + </p> + <p> + Now Josephine had all a woman’s eye for reading faces, and she was + instantly struck by a certain gravity in Jacintha’s gaze, and a flutter + which the young woman was suppressing with tolerable but not complete + success. + </p> + <p> + Disguising the uneasiness this discovery gave her, she looked her visitor + full in the face, and said mildly, but a little coldly, “Well, Jacintha?” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha lowered her eyes and muttered slowly,— + </p> + <p> + “The doctor—comes—to-day,” then raised her eyes all in a + moment to take Josephine off her guard; but the calm face was + impenetrable. So then Jacintha added, “to our misfortune,” throwing in + still more meaning. + </p> + <p> + “To our misfortune? A dear old friend—like him?” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha explained. “That old man makes me shake. You are never safe with + him. So long as his head is in the clouds, you might take his shoes off, + and on he’d walk and never know it; but every now and then he comes out of + the clouds all in one moment, without a word of warning, and when he does + his eye is on everything, like a bird’s. Then he is so old: he has seen a + heap. Take my word for it, the old are more knowing than the young, let + them be as sharp as you like: the old have seen everything. WE have only + heard talk of the most part, with here and there a glimpse. To know life + to the bottom you must live it out, from the soup to the dessert; and that + is what the doctor has done, and now he is coming here. And Mademoiselle + Rose will go telling him everything; and if she tells him half what she + has seen, your secret will be no secret to that old man.” + </p> + <p> + “My secret!” gasped Josephine, turning pale. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t look so, madame: don’t be frightened at poor Jacintha. Sooner or + later you MUST trust somebody besides Mademoiselle Rose.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked at her with inquiring, frightened eyes. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha drew nearer to her. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,—I beg pardon, madame,—I carried you in my arms + when I was a child. When I was a girl you toddled at my side, and held my + gown, and lisped my name, and used to put your little arms round my neck, + and kissed me, you would; and if ever I had the least pain or sickness + your dear little face would turn as sorrowful, and all the pretty color + leave it for Jacintha; and now you are in trouble, in sore trouble, yet + you turn away from me, you dare not trust me, that would be cut in pieces + ere I would betray you. Ah, mademoiselle, you are wrong. The poor can + feel: they have all seen trouble, and a servant is the best of friends + where she has the heart to love her mistress; and do not I love you? Pray + do not turn from her who has carried you in her arms, and laid you to + sleep upon her bosom, many’s and many’s the time.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine panted audibly. She held out her hand eloquently to Jacintha, + but she turned her head away and trembled. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha cast a hasty glance round the room. Then she trembled too at what + she was going to say, and the effect it might have on the young lady. As + for Josephine, terrible as the conversation had become, she made no + attempt to evade it: she remained perfectly passive. It was the best way + to learn how far Jacintha had penetrated her secret, if at all. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha looked fearfully round and whispered in Josephine’s ear, “When + the news of Colonel Raynal’s death came, you wept, but the color came back + to your cheek. When the news of his life came, you turned to stone. Ah! my + poor young lady, there has been more between you and THAT MAN than should + be. Ever since one day you all went to Frejus together, you were a changed + woman. I have seen you look at him as—as a wife looks at her man. I + have seen HIM”— + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Jacintha! Do not tell me what you have seen: oh! do not remind me + of joys I pray God to help me forget. He was my husband, then!—oh, + cruel Jacintha, to remind me of what I have been, of what I am! Ah me! ah + me! ah me!” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband!” cried Jacintha in utter amazement. + </p> + <p> + Then Josephine drooped her head on this faithful creature’s shoulder, and + told her with many sobs the story I have told you. She told it very + briefly, for it was to a woman who, though little educated, was full of + feeling and shrewdness, and needed but the bare facts: she could add the + rest from her own heart and experience: could tell the storm of feelings + through which these two unhappy lovers must have passed. Her frequent + sighs of pity and sympathy drew Josephine on to pour out all her griefs. + When the tale was ended she gave a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “It might have been worse: I thought it was worse the more fool I. I + deserve to have my head cut off.” This was Jacintha’s only comment at that + time. + </p> + <p> + It was Josephine’s turn to be amazed. “It could have been worse?” said + she. “How? tell me,” added she bitterly. “It would be a consolation to me, + could I see that.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha colored and evaded this question, and begged her to go on, to + keep nothing back from her. Josephine assured her she had revealed all. + Jacintha looked at her a moment in silence. + </p> + <p> + “It is then as I half suspected. You do not know all that is before you. + You do not see why I am afraid of that old man.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not of him in particular.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor why I want to keep Mademoiselle Rose from prattling to him?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I assure you Rose is to be trusted; she is wise—wiser than I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “You are neither of you wise. You neither of you know anything. My poor + young mistress, you are but a child still. You have a deep water to wade + through,” said Jacintha, so solemnly that Josephine trembled. “A deep + water, and do not see it even. You have told me what is past, now I must + tell you what is coming. Heaven help me! But is it possible you have no + misgiving? Tell the truth, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I am full of them; at your words, at your manner, they fly around + me in crowds.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no ONE?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then turn your head from me a bit, my sweet young lady; I am an honest + woman, though I am not so innocent as you, and I am forced against my will + to speak my mind plainer than I am used to.” + </p> + <p> + Then followed a conversation, to detail which might anticipate our story; + suffice it to say, that Rose, coming into the room rather suddenly, found + her sister weeping on Jacintha’s bosom, and Jacintha crying and sobbing + over her. + </p> + <p> + She stood and stared in utter amazement. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin, on his arrival, was agreeably surprised at Madame Raynal’s + appearance. He inquired after her appetite. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to her appetite,” cried the baroness, “that is immense.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “It was,” explained Josephine, “just when I began to get better, but now + it is as much as usual.” This answer had been arranged beforehand by + Jacintha. She added, “The fact is, we wanted to see you, doctor, and my + ridiculous ailments were a good excuse for tearing you from Paris.”—“And + now we have succeeded,” said Rose, “let us throw off the mask, and talk of + other things; above all, of Paris, and your eclat.” + </p> + <p> + “For all that,” persisted the baroness, “she was ill, when I first wrote, + and very ill too.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Raynal,” said the doctor solemnly, “your conduct has been + irregular; once ill, and your illness announced to your medical adviser, + etiquette forbade you to get well but by his prescriptions. Since, then, + you have shown yourself unfit to conduct a malady, it becomes my painful + duty to forbid you henceforth ever to be ill at all, without my permission + first obtained in writing.” + </p> + <p> + This badinage was greatly relished by Rose, but not at all by the + baroness, who was as humorless as a swan. + </p> + <p> + He stayed a month at Beaurepaire, then off to Paris again: and being now a + rich man, and not too old to enjoy innocent pleasures, he got a habit of + running backwards and forwards between the two places, spending a month or + so at each alternately. So the days rolled on. Josephine fell into a state + that almost defies description; her heart was full of deadly wounds, yet + it seemed, by some mysterious, half-healing balm, to throb and ache, but + bleed no more. Beams of strange, unreasonable complacency would shoot + across her; the next moment reflection would come, she would droop her + head, and sigh piteously. Then all would merge in a wild terror of + detection. She seemed on the borders of a river of bliss, new, divine, and + inexhaustible: and on the other bank mocking malignant fiends dared her to + enter that heavenly stream. The past to her was full of regrets; the + future full of terrors, and empty of hope. Yet she did not, could not + succumb. Instead of the listlessness and languor of a few months back, she + had now more energy than ever; at times it mounted to irritation. An + activity possessed her: it broke out in many feminine ways. Among the rest + she was seized with what we men call a cacoethes of the needle: “a raging + desire” for work. Her fingers itched for work. She was at it all day. As + devotees retire to pray, so she to stitch. On a wet day she would often + slip into the kitchen, and ply the needle beside Jacintha: on a dry day + she would hide in the old oak-tree, and sit like a mouse, and ply the + tools of her craft, and make things of no mortal use to man or woman; and + she tried little fringes of muslin upon her white hand, and held it up in + front of her, and smiled, and then moaned. It was winter, and Rose used + sometimes to bring her out a thick shawl, as she sat in the old oak-tree + stitching, but Josephine nearly always declined it. SHE WAS NEARLY + IMPERVIOUS TO COLD. + </p> + <p> + Then, her purse being better filled than formerly, she visited the poor + more than ever, and above all the young couples; and took a warm interest + in their household matters, and gave them muslin articles of her own + making, and sometimes sniffed the soup in a young housewife’s pot, and + took a fancy to it, and, if invited to taste it, paid her the compliment + of eating a good plateful of it, and said it was much better soup than the + chateau produced, and, what is stranger, thought so: and, whenever some + peevish little brat set up a yell in its cradle and the father naturally + enough shook his fist at the destroyer of his peace, Madame Raynal’s + lovely face filled with concern not for the sufferer but the pest, and she + flew to it and rocked it and coaxed it and consoled it, till the young + housewife smiled and stopped its mouth by other means. And, besides the + five-franc pieces she gave the infants to hold, these visits of Madame + Raynal were always followed by one from Jacintha with a basket of + provisions on her stalwart arm, and honest Sir John Burgoyne peeping out + at the corner. Kind and beneficent as she was, her temper deteriorated + considerably, for it came down from angelic to human. Rose and Jacintha + were struck with the change, assented to everything she said, and + encouraged her in everything it pleased her caprice to do. Meantime the + baroness lived on her son Raynal’s letters (they came regularly twice a + month). Rose too had a correspondence, a constant source of delight to + her. Edouard Riviere was posted at a distance, and could not visit her; + but their love advanced rapidly. Every day he wrote down for his Rose the + acts of the day, and twice a week sent the budget to his sweetheart, and + told her at the same time every feeling of his heart. She was less + fortunate than he; she had to carry a heavy secret; but still she found + plenty to tell him, and tender feelings too to vent on him in her own + arch, shy, fitful way. Letters can enchain hearts; it was by letters that + these two found themselves imperceptibly betrothed. Their union was looked + forward to as certain, and not very distant. Rose was fairly in love. + </p> + <p> + One day, Dr. Aubertin, coming back from Paris to Beaurepaire rather + suddenly, found nobody at home but the baroness. Josephine and Rose were + gone to Frejus; had been there more than a week. She was ailing again; so + as Frejus had agreed with her once, Rose thought it might again. “She + would send for them back directly.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the doctor, “why do that? I will go over there and see them.” + Accordingly, a day or two after this, he hired a carriage, and went off + early in the morning to Frejus. In so small a place he expected to find + the young ladies at once; but, to his surprise, no one knew them nor had + heard of them. He was at a nonplus, and just about to return home and + laugh at himself and the baroness for this wild-goose chase, when he fell + in with a face he knew, one Mivart, a surgeon, a young man of some talent, + who had made his acquaintance in Paris. Mivart accosted him with great + respect; and, after the first compliments, informed him that he had been + settled some months in this little town, and was doing a fair stroke of + business. + </p> + <p> + “Killing some, and letting nature cure others, eh?” said the doctor; then, + having had his joke, he told Mivart what had brought him to Frejus. + </p> + <p> + “Are they pretty women, your friends? I think I know all the pretty women + about,” said Mivart with levity. “They are not pretty,” replied Aubertin. + Mivart’s interest in them faded visibly out of his countenance. “But they + are beautiful. The elder might pass for Venus, and the younger for Hebe.” + </p> + <p> + “I know them then!” cried he; “they are patients of mine.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor colored. “Ah, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “In the absence of your greater skill,” said Mivart, politely; “it is + Madame Aubertin and her sister you are looking for, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + Aubertin groaned. “I am rather too old to be looking for a Madame + Aubertin,” said he; “no; it is Madame Raynal, and Mademoiselle de + Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + Mivart became confidential. “Madame Aubertin and her sister,” said he, + “are so lovely they make me ill to look at them: the deepest blue eyes you + ever saw, both of them; high foreheads; teeth like ivory mixed with pearl; + such aristocratic feet and hands; and their arms—oh!” and by way of + general summary the young surgeon kissed the tips of his fingers, and was + silent; language succumbed under the theme. The doctor smiled coldly. + </p> + <p> + Mivart added, “If you had come an hour sooner, you might have seen + Mademoiselle Rose; she was in the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Rose? who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Madame Aubertin’s sister.” + </p> + <p> + At this Dr. Aubertin looked first very puzzled, then very grave. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” said he, after a little reflection, “where do these paragons live?” + </p> + <p> + “They lodge at a small farm; it belongs to a widow; her name is Roth.” + They parted. Dr. Aubertin walked slowly towards his carriage, his hands + behind him, his eyes on the ground. He bade the driver inquire where the + Widow Roth lived, and learned it was about half a league out of the town. + He drove to the farmhouse; when the carriage drove up, a young lady looked + out of the window on the first floor. It was Rose de Beaurepaire. She + caught the doctor’s eye, and he hers. She came down and welcomed him with + a great appearance of cordiality, and asked him, with a smile, how he + found them out. + </p> + <p> + “From your medical attendant,” said the doctor, dryly. + </p> + <p> + Rose looked keenly in his face. + </p> + <p> + “He said he was in attendance on two paragons of beauty, blue eyes, white + teeth and arms.” + </p> + <p> + “And you found us out by that?” inquired Rose, looking still more keenly + at him. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly; but it was my last chance of finding you, so I came. Where is + Madame Raynal?” + </p> + <p> + “Come into this room, dear friend. I will go and find her.” + </p> + <p> + Full twenty minutes was the doctor kept waiting, and then in came Rose, + gayly crying, “I have hunted her high and low, and where do you think my + lady was? sitting out in the garden—come.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, they found Josephine in the garden, seated on a low chair. + She smiled when the doctor came up to her, and asked after her mother. + There was an air of languor about her; her color was clear, delicate, and + beautiful. + </p> + <p> + “You have been unwell, my child.” + </p> + <p> + “A little, dear friend; you know me; always ailing, and tormenting those I + love.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! but, Josephine, you know this place and this sweet air always set + you up. Look at her now, doctor; did you ever see her look better? See + what a color. I never saw her look more lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw her look SO lovely; but I have seen her look better. Your + pulse. A little languid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you stay at Beaurepaire?” inquired Rose; “if so, we will come home.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, you will stay here another fortnight,” said the doctor, + authoritatively. + </p> + <p> + “Prescribe some of your nice tonics for me, doctor,” said Josephine, + coaxingly. + </p> + <p> + “No! I can’t do that; you are in the hands of another practitioner.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter? You were at Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the etiquette in our profession to interfere with another man’s + patients.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! I am so sorry,” began Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing here that my good friend Mivart is not competent to deal + with,” said the doctor, coldly. + </p> + <p> + Then followed some general conversation, at the end of which the doctor + once more laid his commands on them to stay another fortnight where they + were, and bade them good-by. + </p> + <p> + He was no sooner gone than Rose went to the door of the kitchen, and + called out, “Madame Jouvenel! Madame Jouvenel! you may come into the + garden again.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor drove away; but, instead of going straight to Beaurepaire, he + ordered the driver to return to the town. He then walked to Mivart’s + house. + </p> + <p> + In about a quarter of an hour he came out of it, looking singularly grave, + sad, and stern. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. + </h2> + <p> + Edouard Riviere contrived one Saturday to work off all arrears of + business, and start for Beaurepaire. He had received a very kind letter + from Rose, and his longing to see her overpowered him. On the road his + eyes often glittered, and his cheek flushed with expectation. At last he + got there. His heart beat: for four months he had not seen her. He ran up + into the drawing-room, and there found the baroness alone; she welcomed + him cordially, but soon let him know Rose and her sister were at Frejus. + His heart sank. Frejus was a long way off. But this was not all. Rose’s + last letter was dated from Beaurepaire, yet it must have been written at + Frejus. He went to Jacintha, and demanded an explanation of this. The + ready Jacintha said it looked as if she meant to be home directly; and + added, with cool cunning, “That is a hint for me to get their rooms + ready.” + </p> + <p> + “This letter must have come here enclosed in another,” said Edouard, + sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Like enough,” replied Jacintha, with an appearance of sovereign + indifference. + </p> + <p> + Edouard looked at her, and said, grimly, “I will go to Frejus.” + </p> + <p> + “So I would,” said Jacintha, faltering a little, but not perceptibly; “you + might meet them on the road, if so be they come the same road; there are + two roads, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard hesitated; but he ended by sending Dard to the town on his own + horse, with orders to leave him at the inn, and borrow a fresh horse. “I + shall just have time,” said he. He rode to Frejus, and inquired at the + inns and post-office for Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire. They did not know + her; then he inquired for Madame Raynal. No such name known. He rode by + the seaside upon the chance of their seeing him. He paraded on horseback + throughout the place, in hopes every moment that a window would open, and + a fair face shine at it, and call him. At last his time was up, and he was + obliged to ride back, sick at heart, to Beaurepaire. He told the baroness, + with some natural irritation, what had happened. She was as much surprised + as he was. + </p> + <p> + “I write to Madame Raynal at the post-office, Frejus,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “And Madame Raynal gets your letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course she does, since she answers them; you cannot have inquired at + the post.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it was the first place I inquired at, and neither Mademoiselle de + Beaurepaire nor Madame Raynal were known there.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha, who could have given the clew, seemed so puzzled herself, that + they did not even apply to her. Edouard took a sorrowful leave of the + baroness, and set out on his journey home. + </p> + <p> + Oh! how sad and weary that ride seemed now by what it had been coming. His + disappointment was deep and irritating; and ere he had ridden half way a + torturer fastened on his heart. That torture is suspicion; a vague and + shadowy, but gigantic phantom that oppresses and rends the mind more + terribly than certainty. In this state of vague, sickening suspicion, he + remained some days: then came an affectionate letter from Rose, who had + actually returned home. In this she expressed her regret and + disappointment at having missed him; blamed herself for misleading him, + but explained that their stay at Frejus had been prolonged from day to day + far beyond her expectation. “The stupidity of the post-office was more + than she could account for,” said she. But, what went farthest to console + Edouard, was, that after this contretemps she never ceased to invite him + to come to Beaurepaire. Now, before this, though she said many kind and + pretty things in her letters, she had never invited him to visit the + chateau; he had noticed this. “Sweet soul,” thought he, “she really is + vexed. I must be a brute to think any more about it. Still”— + </p> + <p> + So this wound was skinned over. + </p> + <p> + At last, what he called his lucky star ordained that he should be + transferred to the very post his Commandant Raynal had once occupied. He + sought and obtained permission to fix his quarters in the little village + near Beaurepaire, and though this plan could not be carried out for three + months, yet the prospect of it was joyful all that time—joyful to + both lovers. Rose needed this consolation, for she was very unhappy: her + beloved sister, since their return from Frejus, had gone back. The flush + of health was faded, and so was her late energy. She fell into deep + depression and languor, broken occasionally by fits of nervous irritation. + </p> + <p> + She would sit for hours together at one window languishing and fretting. + Can the female reader guess which way that window looked? + </p> + <p> + Now, Edouard was a favorite of Josephine’s; so Rose hoped he would help to + distract her attention from those sorrows which a lapse of years alone + could cure. + </p> + <p> + On every account, then, his visit was looked forward to with hope and joy. + </p> + <p> + He came. He was received with open arms. He took up his quarters at his + old lodgings, but spent his evenings and every leisure hour at the + chateau. + </p> + <p> + He was very much in love, and showed it. He adhered to Rose like a leech, + and followed her about like a little dog. + </p> + <p> + This would have made her very happy if there had been nothing great to + distract her attention and her heart; but she had Josephine, whose deep + depression and fits of irritation and terror filled her with anxiety; and + so Edouard was in the way now and then. On these occasions he was too vain + to see what she was too polite to show him offensively. + </p> + <p> + But on this she became vexed at his obtuseness. + </p> + <p> + “Does he think I can be always at his beck and call?” thought she. + </p> + <p> + “She is always after her sister,” said he. + </p> + <p> + He was just beginning to be jealous of Josephine when the following + incident occurred:— + </p> + <p> + Rose and the doctor were discussing Josephine. Edouard pretended to be + reading a book, but he listened to every word. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin gave it as his opinion that Madame Raynal did not make enough + blood. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if I thought that!” cried Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, it is so, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said Rose, “do you remember, one day you said healthy blood + could be drawn from robust veins and poured into a sick person’s?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a well-known fact,” said Aubertin. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it,” said Rose, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Then you place a very narrow limit to science,” said the doctor, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see it done?” asked Rose, slyly. + </p> + <p> + “I have not only seen it done, but have done it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then do it for us. There’s my arm; take blood from that for dear + Josephine!” and she thrust a white arm out under his eye with such a bold + movement and such a look of fire and love as never beamed from common + eyes. + </p> + <p> + A keen, cold pang shot through the human heart of Edouard Riviere. + </p> + <p> + The doctor started and gazed at her with admiration: then he hung his + head. “I could not do it. I love you both too well to drain either of + life’s current.” + </p> + <p> + Rose veiled her fire, and began to coax. “Once a week; just once a week, + dear, dear doctor; you know I should never miss it. I am so full of that + health, which Heaven denies to her I love.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us try milder measures first,” said the doctor. “I have most faith in + time.” + </p> + <p> + “What if I were to take her to Frejus? hitherto, the sea has always done + wonders for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Frejus, by all means,” said Edouard, mingling suddenly in the + conversation; “and this time I will go with you, and then I shall find out + where you lodged before, and how the boobies came to say they did not know + you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose bit her lip. She could not help seeing then how much dear Edouard was + in her way and Josephine’s. Their best friends are in the way of all who + have secrets. Presently the doctor went to his study. Then Edouard let + fall a mock soliloquy. “I wonder,” said he, dropping out his words one by + one, “whether any one will ever love me well enough to give a drop of + their blood for me.” + </p> + <p> + “If you were in sickness and sorrow, who knows?” said Rose, coloring up. + </p> + <p> + “I would soon be in sickness and sorrow if I thought that.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t jest with such matters, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I am serious. I wish I was as ill as Madame Raynal is, to be loved as she + is.” + </p> + <p> + “You must resemble her in some other things to be loved as she is. + </p> + <p> + “You have often made me feel that of late, dear Rose.” + </p> + <p> + This touched her. But she fought down the kindly feeling. “I am glad of + it,” said she, out of perverseness. She added after a while, “Edouard, you + are naturally jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the least in the world, Rose, I assure you. I have many faults, but + jealous I am not.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you are, and suspicious, too; there is something in your + character that alarms me for our happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you come to that, there are things in YOUR conduct I could wish + explained.” + </p> + <p> + “There! I said so. You have not confidence in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray don’t say that, dear Rose. I have every confidence in you; only + please don’t ask me to divest myself of my senses and my reason.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t ask you to do that or anything else for me; good-by, for the + present.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going now? tic! tic! I never can get a word in peace with + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to commit murder. I’m only going up-stairs to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Madame Raynal, she makes it very hard for me not to dislike her.” + </p> + <p> + “Dislike my Josephine?” and Rose bristled visibly. + </p> + <p> + “She is an angel, but I should hate an angel if it came forever between + you and me.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, she was here long before you. It is you that came between her + and me.” + </p> + <p> + “I came because I was told I should be welcome,” said Edouard bitterly, + and equivocating a little; he added, “and I dare say I shall go when I am + told I am one too many.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad heart! who says you are one too many in the house? But you are too + exigent, monsieur; you assume the husband, and you tease me. It is + selfish; can you not see I am anxious and worried? you ought to be kind to + me, and soothe me; that is what I look for from you, and, instead of that, + I declare you are getting to be quite a worry.” + </p> + <p> + “I should not be if you loved me as I love you. I give YOU no rival. Shall + I tell you the cause of all this? you have secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “What secrets?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it me you ask? am I trusted with them? Secrets are a bond that not + even love can overcome. It is to talk secrets you run away from me to + Madame Raynal. Where did you lodge at Frejus, Mademoiselle the Reticent?” + </p> + <p> + “In a grotto, dry at low water, Monsieur the Inquisitive.” + </p> + <p> + “That is enough: since you will not tell me, I will find it out before I + am a week older.” + </p> + <p> + This alarmed Rose terribly, and drove her to extremities. She decided to + quarrel. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said she, “I thank you for playing the tyrant a little prematurely; + it has put me on my guard. Let us part; you and I are not suited to each + other, Edouard Riviere.” + </p> + <p> + He took this more humbly than she expected. “Part!” said he, in + consternation; “that is a terrible word to pass between you and me. + Forgive me! I suppose I am jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “You are; you are actually jealous of my sister. Well, I tell you plainly + I love you, but I love my sister better. I never could love any man as I + do her; it is ridiculous to expect such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think I could bear to play second fiddle to her all my life?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t ask you. Go and play first trumpet to some other lady.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak your wishes so plainly now, I have nothing to do but to obey.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her hand and went away disconsolately. + </p> + <p> + Rose, instead of going to Josephine, her determination to do which had + mainly caused the quarrel, sat sadly down, and leaned her head on her + hand. “I am cruel. I am ungrateful. He has gone away broken-hearted. And + what shall I do without him?—little fool! I love him better than he + loves me. He will never forgive me. I have wounded his vanity; and they + are vainer than we are. If we meet at dinner I will be so kind to him, he + will forget it all. No! Edouard will not come to dinner. He is not a + spaniel that you can beat, and then whistle back again. Something tells me + I have lost him, and if I have, what shall I do? I will write him a note. + I will ask him to forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down at the table, and took a sheet of notepaper and began to + write a few conciliatory words. She was so occupied in making these kind + enough, and not too kind, that a light step approached her unobserved. She + looked up and there was Edouard. She whipped the paper off the table. + </p> + <p> + A look of suspicion and misery crossed Edouard’s face. + </p> + <p> + Rose caught it, and said, “Well, am I to be affronted any more?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Rose. I came back to beg you to forget what passed just now,” said + he. + </p> + <p> + Rose’s eye flashed; his return showed her her power. She abused it + directly. + </p> + <p> + “How can I forget it if you come reminding me?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Rose, now don’t be so unkind, so cruel—I have not come back to + tease you, sweet one. I come to know what I can do to please you; to make + you love me again?” and he was about to kneel graciously on one knee. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you. Don’t come near me for a month.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard started up, white as ashes with mortification and wounded love. + </p> + <p> + “This is how you treat me for humbling myself, when it is you that ought + to ask forgiveness.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I ask what I don’t care about?” + </p> + <p> + “What DO you care about?—except that sister of yours? You have no + heart. And on this cold-blooded creature I have wasted a love an empress + might have been proud of inspiring. I pray Heaven some man may sport with + your affections, you heartless creature, as you have played with mine, and + make you suffer what I suffer now!” + </p> + <p> + And with a burst of inarticulate grief and rage he flung out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Rose sank trembling on the sofa a little while: then with a mighty effort + rose and went to comfort her sister. + </p> + <p> + Edouard came no more to Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + There is an old French proverb, and a wise one, “Rien n’est certain que + l’imprevu;” it means you can make sure of nothing but this, that matters + will not turn as you feel sure they will. And, even for this reason, you, + who are thinking of suicide because trade is declining, speculation + failing, bankruptcy impending, or your life going to be blighted forever + by unrequited love—DON’T DO IT. Whether you are English, American, + French, or German, listen to a man that knows what is what, and DON’T DO + IT. I tell you none of those horrors, when they really come, will affect + you as you fancy they will. The joys we expect are not a quarter so + bright, nor the troubles half so dark as we think they will be. Bankruptcy + coming is one thing, come is quite another: and no heart or life was ever + really blighted at twenty years of age. The love-sick girls that are + picked out of the canal alive, all, without exception, marry another man, + have brats, and get to screech with laughter when they think of sweetheart + No. 1, generally a blockhead, or else a blackguard, whom they were fools + enough to wet their clothes for, let alone kill their souls. This happens + INVARIABLY. The love-sick girls that are picked out of the canal dead have + fled from a year’s misery to eternal pain, from grief that time never + failed to cure, to anguish incurable. In this world “Rien n’est certain + que l’imprevu.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard and Rose were tender lovers, at a distance. How much happier and + more loving they thought they should be beneath the same roof. They came + together: their prominent faults of character rubbed: the secret that was + in the house did its work: and altogether, they quarrelled. L’imprevu. + </p> + <p> + Dard had been saying to Jacintha for ever so long, “When granny dies, I + will marry you.” + </p> + <p> + Granny died. Dard took possession of her little property. Up came a + glittering official, and turned him out; he was not her heir. Perrin, the + notary, was. He had bought the inheritance of her two sons, long since + dead. + </p> + <p> + Dard had not only looked on the cottage and cow, as his, but had spoken of + them as such for years. The disappointment and the irony of comrades ate + into him. + </p> + <p> + “I will leave this cursed place,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Josephine instantly sent for him to Beaurepaire. He came, and was factotum + with the novelty of a fixed salary. Jacintha accommodated him with a new + little odd job or two. She set him to dance on the oak floors with a brush + fastened to his right foot; and, after a rehearsal or two, she made him + wait at table. Didn’t he bang the things about: and when he brought a lady + a dish, and she did not instantly attend, he gave her elbow a poke to + attract attention: then she squeaked; and he grinned at her double + absurdity in minding a touch, and not minding the real business of the + table. + </p> + <p> + But his wrongs rankled in him. He vented antique phrases such as, “I want + a change;” “This village is the last place the Almighty made,” etc. + </p> + <p> + Then he was attacked with a moral disease: affected the company of + soldiers. He spent his weekly salary carousing with the military, a class + of men so brilliant that they are not expected to pay for their share of + the drink; they contribute the anecdotes and the familiar appeals to + Heaven: and is not that enough? + </p> + <p> + Present at many recitals, the heroes of which lost nothing by being their + own historians, Dard imbibed a taste for military adventure. His very + talk, which used to be so homely, began now to be tinselled with big + swelling words of vanity imported from the army. I need hardly say these + bombastical phrases did not elevate his general dialect: they lay + fearfully distinct upon the surface, “like lumps of marl upon a barren + soil, encumbering the ground they could not fertilize.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha took leave to remind him of an incident connected with warfare—wounds. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember how you were down upon your luck when you did but cut + your foot? Why, that is nothing in the army. They never go out to fight + but some come back with arms off, and some with legs off and some with + heads; and the rest don’t come back at all: and how would you like that?” + </p> + <p> + This intrusion of statistics into warfare at first cooled Dard’s + impatience for the field. But presently the fighting half of his heart + received an ally in one Sergeant La Croix (not a bad name for a military + aspirant). This sergeant was at the village waiting to march with the new + recruits to the Rhine. Sergeant La Croix was a man who, by force of + eloquence, could make soldiering appear the most delightful as well as + glorious of human pursuits. His tongue fired the inexperienced soul with a + love of arms, as do the drums and trumpets and tramp of soldiers, and + their bayonets glittering in the sun. He would have been worth his weight + in fustian here, where we recruit by that and jargon; he was superfluous + in France, where they recruited by force: but he was ornamental: and he + set Dard and one or two more on fire. Indeed, so absorbing was his sense + of military glory, that there was no room left in him for that mere verbal + honor civilians call veracity. + </p> + <p> + To speak plainly, the sergeant was a fluent, fertile, interesting, + sonorous, prompt, audacious liar: and such was his success, that Dard and + one or two more became mere human fiction pipes—of comparatively + small diameter—irrigating a rural district with false views of + military life, derived from that inexhaustible reservoir, La Croix. + </p> + <p> + At last the long-threatened conscription was levied: every person fit to + bear arms, and not coming under the allowed exceptions, drew a number: and + at a certain hour the numbers corresponding to these were deposited in an + urn, and one-third of them were drawn in presence of the authorities. + Those men whose numbers were drawn had to go for soldiers. Jacintha + awaited the result in great anxiety. She could not sit at home for it; so + she went down the road to meet Dard, who had promised to come and tell her + the result as soon as known. At last she saw him approaching in a + disconsolate way. “O Dard! speak! are we undone? are you a dead man?” + cried she. “Have they made a soldier of you?” + </p> + <p> + “No such luck: I shall die a man of all work,” grunted Dard. + </p> + <p> + “And you are sorry? you unnatural little monster! you have no feeling for + me, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I have; but glory is No. 1 with me now.” + </p> + <p> + “How loud the bantams crow! You leave glory to fools that be six feet + high.” + </p> + <p> + “General Bonaparte isn’t much higher than I am, and glory sits upon his + brow. Why shouldn’t glory sit upon my brow?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it would weigh you down, and smother you, you little fool.” She + added, “And think of me, that couldn’t bear you to be killed at any price, + glory or no glory.” + </p> + <p> + Then, to appease her fears, Dard showed her his number, 99; and assured + her he had seen the last number in the functionary’s hand before he came + away, and it was sixty something. + </p> + <p> + This ocular demonstration satisfied Jacintha; and she ordered Dard to help + her draw the water. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said he, “there is no immortal glory to be picked up to-day, + so I’ll go in for odd jobs.” + </p> + <p> + While they were at this job a voice was heard hallooing. Dard looked up, + and there was a rigid military figure, with a tremendous mustache, peering + about. Dard was overjoyed. It was his friend, his boon-companion. “Come + here, old fellow,” cried he, “ain’t I glad to see you, that is all?” La + Croix marched towards the pair. “What are you skulking here for, recruit + ninety-nine?” said he, sternly, dropping the boon-companion in the + sergeant; “the rest are on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “The rest, old fellow! what do you mean? why, I was not drawn.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you were.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I wasn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Thunder of war, but I say you were. Yours was the last number.” + </p> + <p> + “That is an unlucky guess of yours, for I saw the last number. Look here,” + and he fumbled in his pocket, and produced his number. + </p> + <p> + La Croix instantly fished out a corresponding number. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and here you are; this was the last number drawn.” + </p> + <p> + Dard burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “You goose!” said he, “that is sixty-six—look at it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sixty-six!” roared the sergeant; “no more than yours is—they are + both sixty-sixes when you play tricks with them, and turn them up like + that; but they are both ninety-nines when you look at them fair.” + </p> + <p> + Dard scratched his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said the corporal, briskly, “make up his bundle, girl, and let us + be off; we have got our marching orders; going to the Rhine.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think that I will let him go?” screamed Jacintha. “No! I will + say one word to Madame Raynal, and she will buy him a substitute + directly.” + </p> + <p> + Dard stopped her sullenly. “No! I have told all in the village that I + would go the first chance: it is come, and I’ll go. I won’t stay to be + laughed at about this too. If I was sure to be cut in pieces, I’d go. Give + over blubbering, girl, and get us a bottle of the best wine, and while we + are drinking it, the sergeant and I, you make up my bundle. I shall never + do any good here.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha knew the obstinate toad. She did as she was bid, and soon the + little bundle was ready, and the two men faced the wine; La Croix, radiant + and bellicose; Dard, crestfallen but dogged (for there was a little bit of + good stuff at the bottom of the creature); and Jacintha rocking herself, + with her apron over her head. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give you a toast,” said La Croix. “Here’s gunpowder.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha promptly honored the toast with a flood of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Drop that, Jacintha,” said Dard, angrily; “do you think that is + encouraging? Sergeant, I told this poor girl all about glory before you + came, but she was not ripe for it: say something to cheer her up, for I + can’t.” + </p> + <p> + “I can,” cried this trumpet of battle, emptying its glass. “Attention, + young woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! oh, dear! yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “A French soldier is a man who carries France in his heart”— + </p> + <p> + “But if the cruel foreign soldiers kill him? Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, in that case, he does not care a straw. Every man must die; horses + likewise, and dogs, and donkeys, when they come to the end of their + troubles; but dogs and donkeys and chaps in blouses can’t die gloriously; + as Dard may, if he has any luck at all: so, from this hour, if there was + twice as little of him, be proud of him, for from this time he is a part + of France and her renown. Come, recruit ninety-nine, shoulder your traps + at duty’s call, and let us go forth in form. Attention! Quick—march! + Halt! is that the way I showed you to march? Didn’t I tell you to start + from the left? Now try again. QUICK—march! left—right—left—right—left—right—NOW + you’ve—GOT it—DRAT ye,—KEEP it—left—right—left—right—left—right.” + And with no more ado the sergeant marched the little odd-job man to the + wars. + </p> + <p> + VIVE LA FRANCE! <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + Edouard, the moment his temper cooled, became very sad. He longed to be + friends again with Rose, but did not know how. His own pride held him + back, and so did his fear that he had gone too far, and that his offended + mistress would not listen to an offer of reconciliation from him. He sat + down alone now to all his little meals. No sweet, mellow voices in his ear + after the fatigues of the day. It was a dismal change in his life. + </p> + <p> + At last, one day, he received three lines from Josephine, requesting him + to come and speak to her. He went over directly, full of vague hopes. He + found her seated pale and languid in a small room on the ground floor. + </p> + <p> + “What has she been doing to you, dear?” began she kindly. + </p> + <p> + “Has she not told you, Madame Raynal?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she is refractory. She will tell me nothing, and that makes me fear + she is the one in fault.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if she does not accuse me, I am sure I will not accuse her. I dare + say I am to blame; it is not her fault that I cannot make her love me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can. She does.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but she loves others better, and she holds me out no hope it will + ever be otherwise. On this one point how can I hope for your sympathy; + unfortunately for me you are one of my rivals. She told me plainly she + never could love me as she loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “And you believed her?” + </p> + <p> + “I had good reason to believe her.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine smiled sadly. “Dear Edouard,” said she, “you must not attach so + much importance to every word we say. Does Rose at her age know + everything? Is she a prophet? Perhaps she really fancies she will always + love her sister as she does now; but you are a man of sense; you ought to + smile and let her talk. When you marry her you will take her to your own + house; she will only see me now and then; she will have you and your + affection always present. Each day some new tie between you and her. You + two will share every joy, every sorrow. Your children playing at your + feet, and reflecting the features of both parents, will make you one. Your + hearts will melt together in that blessed union which raises earth so near + to heaven; and then you will wonder you could ever be jealous of poor + Josephine, who must never hope—ah, me!” + </p> + <p> + Edouard, wrapped up in himself, mistook Josephine’s emotion at the picture + she had drawn of conjugal love. He soothed her, and vowed upon his honor + he never would separate Rose from her. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Raynal,” said he, “you are an angel, and I am a fiend. Jealousy + must be the meanest of all sentiments. I never will be jealous again, + above all, of you, sweet angel. Why, you are my sister as well as hers, + and she has a right to love you, for I love you myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me very happy when you talk so,” sighed Josephine. “Peace is + made?” + </p> + <p> + “Never again to be broken. I will go and ask her pardon. What is the + matter now?” + </p> + <p> + For Jacintha was cackling very loud, and dismissing with ignominy two + beggars, male and female. + </p> + <p> + She was industry personified, and had no sympathy with mendicity. In vain + the couple protested, Heaven knows with what truth, that they were not + beggars, but mechanics out of work. “March! tramp!” was Jacintha’s least + word. She added, giving the rein to her imagination, “I’ll loose the dog.” + The man moved away, the woman turned appealingly to Edouard. He and + Josephine came towards the group. She had got a sort of large hood, and in + that hood she carried an infant on her shoulders. Josephine inspected it. + “It looks sickly, poor little thing,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “What can you expect, young lady?” said the woman. “Its mother had to rise + and go about when she ought to have been in her bed, and now she has not + enough to give it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” cried Josephine. “Jacintha, give them some food and a nice + bottle of wine.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will,” cried Jacintha, changing her tone with courtier-like + alacrity. “I did not see she was nursing.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine put a franc into the infant’s hand; the little fingers closed on + it with that instinct of appropriation, which is our first and often our + last sentiment. Josephine smiled lovingly on the child, and the child + seeing that gave a small crow. + </p> + <p> + “Bless it,” said Josephine, and thereupon her lovely head reared itself + like a snake’s, and then darted down on the child; and the young noble + kissed the beggar’s brat as if she would eat it. + </p> + <p> + This won the mother’s heart more than even the gifts. + </p> + <p> + “Blessings on you, my lady!” she cried. “I pray the Lord not to forget + this when a woman’s trouble comes on you in your turn! It is a small + child, mademoiselle, but it is not an unhealthy one. See.” Inspection was + offered, and eagerly accepted. + </p> + <p> + Edouard stood looking on at some distance in amazement, mingled with + disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” said he, when she rejoined him, “how could you kiss that nasty + little brat?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Edouard, don’t speak so of a poor little innocent. Who would pity + them if we women did not? It had lovely eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Like saucers.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no compliment when you are affectionate to anybody; you overflow + with benevolence on all creation, like the rose which sheds its perfume on + the first-comer.” + </p> + <p> + “If he is not going to be jealous of me next,” whined Josephine. + </p> + <p> + She took him to Rose, and she said, “There, whenever good friends quarrel, + it is understood they were both in the wrong. Bygones are to be bygones; + and when your time comes round to quarrel again, please consult me first, + since it is me you will afflict.” She left them together, and went and + tapped timidly at the doctor’s study. + </p> + <p> + Aubertin received her with none of that reserve she had seen in him. He + appeared both surprised and pleased at her visit to his little sanctum. He + even showed an emotion Josephine was at a loss to account for. But that + wore off during the conversation, and, indeed, gave place to a sort of + coldness. + </p> + <p> + “Dear friend,” said she, “I come to consult you about Rose and Edouard.” + She then told him what had happened, and hinted at Edouard’s one fault. + The doctor smiled. “It is curious. You have come to draw my attention to a + point on which it has been fixed for some days past. I am preparing a cure + for the two young fools; a severe remedy, but in their case a sure one.” + </p> + <p> + He then showed her a deed, wherein he had settled sixty thousand francs on + Rose and her children. “Edouard,” said he, “has a good place. He is active + and rising, and with my sixty thousand francs, and a little purse of ten + thousand more for furniture and nonsense, they can marry next week, if + they like. Yes, marriage is a sovereign medicine for both of these + patients. She does not love him quite enough. Cure: marriage. He loves her + a little too much. Cure: marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “O doctor!” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t help it. I did not make men and women. We must take human nature as + we find it, and thank God for it on the whole. Have you nothing else to + confide to me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear friend. But this is very near my heart,” faltered Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The doctor sighed; then said gently, “They shall be happy: as happy as you + wish them.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, in another room, a reconciliation scene was taking place, and + the mutual concessions of two impetuous but generous spirits. + </p> + <p> + The baroness noticed the change in Josephine’s appearance. + </p> + <p> + She asked Rose what could be the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Some passing ailment,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Passing? She has been so, on and off, a long time. She makes me very + anxious.” + </p> + <p> + Rose made light of it to her mother, but in her own heart she grew more + and more anxious day by day. She held secret conferences with Jacintha; + that sagacious personage had a plan to wake Josephine from her deathly + languor, and even soothe her nerves, and check those pitiable fits of + nervous irritation to which she had become subject. Unfortunately, + Jacintha’s plan was so difficult and so dangerous, that at first even the + courageous Rose recoiled from it; but there are dangers that seem to + diminish when you look them long in the face. + </p> + <p> + The whole party was seated in the tapestried room: Jacintha was there, + sewing a pair of sheets, at a respectful distance from the gentlefolks, + absorbed in her work; but with both ears on full cock. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, holding his glasses to his eye, had just begun to read out the + Moniteur. + </p> + <p> + The baroness sat close to him, Edouard opposite; and the young ladies each + in her corner of a large luxurious sofa, at some little distance. + </p> + <p> + “‘The Austrians left seventy cannon, eight thousand men, and three colors + upon the field. Army of the North: General Menard defeated the enemy after + a severe engagement, taking thirteen field-pieces and a quantity of + ammunition.’” + </p> + <p> + The baroness made a narrow-minded renmark. “That is always the way with + these journals,” said she. “Austrians! Prussians! when it’s Egypt one + wants to hear about.”—“No, not a word about Egypt,” said the doctor; + “but there is a whole column about the Rhine, where Colonel Dujardin is—and + Dard. If I was dictator, the first nuisance I would put down is small + type.” He then spelled out a sanguinary engagement: “eight thousand of the + enemy killed. We have some losses to lament. Colonel Dujardin”— + </p> + <p> + “Only wounded, I hope,” said the baroness. + </p> + <p> + The doctor went coolly on. “At the head of the 24th brigade made a + brilliant charge on the enemy’s flank, that is described in the general + order as having decided the fate of the battle.” + </p> + <p> + “How badly you do read,” said the old lady, sharply. “I thought he was + gone; instead of that he has covered himself with glory; but it is all our + doing, is it not, young ladies? We saved his life.” + </p> + <p> + “We saved it amongst us, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, Rose?” said Edouard. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing: give me the salts, quick.” + </p> + <p> + She only passed them, as it were, under her own nostrils; then held them + to Josephine, who was now observed to be trembling all over. Rose + contrived to make it appear that this was mere sympathy on Josephine’s + part. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be silly, girls,” cried the baroness, cheerfully; “there is nobody + killed that we care about.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Aubertin read the rest to himself. + </p> + <p> + Edouard fell into a gloomy silence and tortured himself about Camille, and + Rose’s anxiety and agitation. + </p> + <p> + By and by the new servant brought in a letter. It was the long-expected + one from Egypt. + </p> + <p> + “Here is something better than salts for you. A long letter, Josephine, + and all in his own hand; so he is safe, thank Heaven! I was beginning to + be uneasy again. You frightened me for that poor Camille: but this is + worth a dozen Camilles; this is my son; I would give my old life for him.”—“My + dear Mother—(‘Bless him!’), my dear wife, and my dear sister—(‘Well! + you sit there like two rocks!’)—We have just gained a battle—fifty + colors. (‘What do you think of that?’) All the enemy’s baggage and + ammunition are in our hands. (‘This is something like a battle, this + one.’) Also the Pasha of Natolie. (‘Ah! the Pasha of Natolie; an important + personage, no doubt, though I never had the honor of hearing of him. Do + you hear?—you on the sofa. My son has captured the Pasha of Natolie. + He is as brave as Caesar.’) But this success is not one of those that lead + to important results (‘Never mind, a victory is a victory’), and I should + not wonder if Bonaparte was to dash home any day. If so, I shall go with + him, and perhaps spend a whole day with you, on my way to the Rhine.” + </p> + <p> + At this prospect a ghastly look passed quick as lightning between Rose and + Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The baroness beckoned Josephine to come close to her, and read her what + followed in a lower tone of voice. + </p> + <p> + “Tell my wife I love her more and more every day. I don’t expect as much + from her, but she will make me very happy if she can make shift to like me + as well as her family do.”—“No danger! What husband deserves to be + loved as he does? I long for his return, that his wife, his mother, and + his sister may all combine to teach this poor soldier what happiness + means. We owe him everything, Josephine, and if we did not love him, and + make him happy, we should be monsters; now should we not?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine stammered an assent. + </p> + <p> + “NOW you may read his letter: Jacintha and all,” said the baroness + graciously. + </p> + <p> + The letter circulated. Meantime, the baroness conversed with Aubertin in + quite an undertone. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, look at Josephine. That girl is ill, or else she is going to + be ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither the one nor the other, madame,” said Aubertin, looking her coolly + in the face. + </p> + <p> + “But I say she is. Is a doctor’s eye keener than a mother’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Considerably,” replied the doctor with cool and enviable effrontery. + </p> + <p> + The baroness rose. “Now, children, for our evening walk. We shall enjoy it + now.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust you may: but for all that I must forbid the evening air to one of + the party—to Madame Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness came to him and whispered, “That is right. Thank you. See + what is the matter with her, and tell me.” And she carried off the rest of + the party. + </p> + <p> + At the same time Jacintha asked permission to pass the rest of the evening + with her relations in the village. But why that swift, quivering glance of + intelligence between Jacintha and Rose de Beaurepaire when the baroness + said, “Yes, certainly”? + </p> + <p> + Time will show. + </p> + <p> + Josephine and the doctor were left alone. Now Josephine had noticed the + old people whisper and her mother glance her way, and the whole woman was + on her guard. She assumed a languid complacency, and by way of shield, if + necessary, took some work, and bent her eyes and apparently her attention + on it. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was silent and ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + She saw he had something weighty on his mind. “The air would have done me + no harm,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Neither will a few words with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, dear friend. Only I think I should have liked a little walk this + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine,” said the doctor quietly, “when you were a child I saved your + life.” + </p> + <p> + “I have often heard my mother speak of it. I was choked by the croup, and + you had the courage to lance my windpipe.” + </p> + <p> + “Had I?” said the doctor, with a smile. He added gravely, “It seems then + that to be cruel is sometimes kindness. It is the nature of men to love + those whose life they save.” + </p> + <p> + “And they love you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, our affection is not perfect. I don’t know which is most to blame, + but after all these years I have failed to inspire you with confidence.” + The doctor’s voice was sad, and Josephine’s bosom panted. + </p> + <p> + “Pray do not say so,” she cried. “I would trust you with my life.” + </p> + <p> + “But not with your secret.” + </p> + <p> + “My secret! What secret? I have no secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephine, you have now for full twelve months suffered in body and mind, + yet you have never come to me for counsel, for comfort, for an old man’s + experience and advice, nor even for medical aid.” + </p> + <p> + “But, dear friend, I assure you”— + </p> + <p> + “We DO NOT deceive our friend. We CANNOT deceive our doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine trembled, but defended herself after the manner of her sex. + “Dear doctor,” said she, “I love you all the better for this. Your regard + for me has for once blinded your science. I am not so robust as you have + known me, but there is nothing serious the matter with me. Let us talk of + something else. Besides, it is not interesting to talk about one’s self.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; since there is nothing serious or interesting in your case, we + will talk about something that is both serious and interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart;” and she smiled with a sense of relief. + </p> + <p> + But the doctor leaned over the table to her, and said in a cautious and + most emphatic whisper, “We will talk about YOUR CHILD.” + </p> + <p> + The work dropped from Josephine’s hands: she turned her face wildly on + Aubertin, and faltered out, “M—my child?” + </p> + <p> + “My words are plain,” replied he gravely. “YOUR CHILD.” + </p> + <p> + When the doctor repeated these words, when Josephine looking in his face + saw he spoke from knowledge, however acquired, and not from guess, she + glided down slowly off the sofa and clasped his knees as he stood before + her, and hid her face in an agony of shame and terror on his knees. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” she sobbed. “Pray do not expose me! Do not destroy me.” + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy young lady,” said he, “did you think you had deceived me, or that + you are fit to deceive any but the blind? Your face, your anguish after + Colonel Dujardin’s departure, your languor, and then your sudden + robustness, your appetite, your caprices, your strange sojourn at Frejus, + your changed looks and loss of health on your return! Josephine, your old + friend has passed many an hour thinking of you, divining your folly, + following your trouble step by step. Yet you never invited him to aid + you.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine faltered out a lame excuse. If she had revered him less she + could have borne to confess to him. She added it would be a relief to her + to confide in him. + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me all,” said he. + </p> + <p> + She consented almost eagerly, and told him—nearly all. The old man + was deeply affected. He murmured in a broken voice, “Your story is the + story of your sex, self-sacrifice, first to your mother, then to Camille, + now to your husband.” + </p> + <p> + “And he is well worthy of any sacrifice I can make,” said Josephine. “But + oh, how hard it is to live!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to make it less hard to you ere long,” said the doctor quietly. He + then congratulated himself on having forced Josephine to confide in him. + “For,” said he, “you never needed an experienced friend more than at this + moment. Your mother will not always be so blind as of late. Edouard is + suspicious. Jacintha is a shrewd young woman, and very inquisitive.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine was not at the end of her concealments: she was ashamed to let + him know she had made a confidant of Jacintha and not of him. She held her + peace. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” continued Aubertin, “there is the terrible chance of Raynal’s + return. But ere I take on me to advise you, what are your own plans?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Josephine helplessly. + </p> + <p> + “You—don’t—know!” cried the doctor, looking at her in utter + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “It is the answer of a mad woman, is it not? Doctor, I am little better. + My foot has slipped on the edge of a precipice. I close my eyes, and let + myself glide down it. What will become of me?” + </p> + <p> + “All shall be well,” said Aubertin, “provided you do not still love that + man.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine did not immediately reply: her thoughts turned inwards. The good + doctor was proceeding to congratulate her on being cured of a fatal + passion, when she stopped him with wonder in her face. “Not love him! How + can I help loving him? I was his betrothed. I wronged him in my thoughts. + War, prison, anguish, could not kill him; he loved me so. He struggled + bleeding to my feet; and could I let him die, after all? Could I be + crueller than prison, and torture, and despair?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor sighed deeply; but, arming himself with the necessary + resolution, he sternly replied, “A woman of your name cannot vacillate + between love and honor; such vacillations have but one end. I will not let + you drift a moral wreck between passion and virtue; and that is what it + will come to if you hesitate now.” + </p> + <p> + “Hesitate! Who can say I have hesitated where my honor was concerned? You + can read our bodies then, but not our hearts. What! you see me so pale, + forlorn, and dead, and that does not tell you I have bid Camille farewell + forever? That we might be safer still I have not even told him he is a + father: was ever woman so cruel as I am? I have written him but one + letter, and in that I must deceive him. I told him I thought I might one + day be happy, if I could hear that he did not give way to despair. I told + him we must never meet again in this world. So now come what will: show me + my duty and I will do it. This endless deceit burns my heart. Shall I tell + my husband? It will be but one pang more, one blush more for me. But my + mother!” and, thus appealed to, Dr. Aubertin felt, for the first time, all + the difficulty of the situation he had undertaken to cure. He hesitated, + he was embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Josephine, “you see.” Then, after a short silence, she said + despairingly, “This is my only hope: that poor Raynal will be long absent, + and that ere he returns mamma will lie safe from sorrow and shame in the + little chapel. Doctor, when a woman of my age forms such wishes as these, + I think you might pity her, and forgive her ill-treatment of you, for she + cannot be very happy. Ah me! ah me! ah me!” + </p> + <p> + “Courage, poor soul! All is now in my hands, and I will save you,” said + the doctor, his voice trembling in spite of him. “Guilt lies in the + intention. A more innocent woman than you does not breathe. Two courses + lay open to you: to leave this house with Camille Dujardin, or to dismiss + him, and live for your hard duty till it shall please Heaven to make that + duty easy (no middle course was tenable for a day); of these two paths you + chose the right one, and, having chosen, I really think you are not called + on to reveal your misfortune, and make those unhappy to whose happiness + you have sacrificed your own for years to come.” + </p> + <p> + “Forever,” said Josephine quietly. + </p> + <p> + “The young use that word lightly. The old have almost ceased to use it. + They have seen how few earthly things can conquer time.” + </p> + <p> + He resumed, “You think only of others, Josephine, but I shall think of you + as well. I shall not allow your life to be wasted in a needless struggle + against nature.” Then turning to Rose, who had glided into the room, and + stood amazed, “Her griefs were as many before her child was born, yet her + health stood firm. Why? because nature was on her side. Now she is sinking + into the grave. Why? because she is defying nature. Nature intended her to + be pressing her child to her bosom day and night; instead of that, a + peasant woman at Frejus nurses the child, and the mother pines at + Beaurepaire.” + </p> + <p> + At this, Josephine leaned her face on her hands on the doctor’s shoulder. + In this attitude she murmured to him, “I have never seen him since I left + Frejus.” Dr. Aubertin sighed for her. Emboldened by this, she announced + her intention of going to Frejus the very next day to see her little + Henri. But to this Dr. Aubertin demurred. “What, another journey to + Frejus?” said he, “when the first has already roused Edouard’s suspicions; + I can never consent to that.” + </p> + <p> + Then Josephine surprised them both. She dropped her coaxing voice and + pecked the doctor like an irritated pigeon. “Take care,” said she, “don’t + be too cruel to me. You see I am obedient, resigned. I have given up all I + lived for: but if I am never to have my little boy’s arms round me to + console me, then—why torment me any longer? Why not say to me, + ‘Josephine, you have offended Heaven; pray for pardon, and die’?” + </p> + <p> + Then the doctor was angry in his turn. “Oh, go then,” said he, “go to + Frejus; you will have Edouard Riviere for a companion this time. Your + first visit roused his suspicions. So before you go tell your mother all; + for since she is sure to find it out, she had better hear it from you than + from another.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, have pity on me,” said Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “You have no heart,” said Rose. “She shall see him though, in spite of + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! he has a heart,” said Josephine: “he is my best friend. He will + let me see my boy.” + </p> + <p> + All this, and the tearful eyes and coaxing yet trembling voice, was hard + to resist. But Aubertin saw clearly, and stood firm. He put his + handkerchief to his eyes a moment: then took the pining young mother’s + hand. “And, do you think,” said he, “I do not pity you and love your boy? + Ah! he will never want a father whilst I live; and from this moment he is + under my care. I will go to see him; I will bring you news, and all in + good time; I will place him where you shall visit him without imprudence; + but, for the present, trust a wiser head than yours or Rose’s; and give me + your sacred promise not to go to Frejus.” + </p> + <p> + Weighed down by his good-sense and kindness, Josephine resisted no longer + in words. She just lifted her hands in despair and began to cry. It was so + piteous, Aubertin was ready to yield in turn, and consent to any + imprudence, when he met with an unexpected ally. + </p> + <p> + “Promise,” said Rose, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked at her calmly through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Promise, dear,” repeated Rose, and this time with an intonation so fine + that it attracted Josephine’s notice, but not the doctor’s. It was + followed by a glance equally subtle. + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” said Josephine, with her eye fixed inquiringly on her sister. + </p> + <p> + For once she could not make the telegraph out: but she could see it was + playing, and that was enough. She did what Rose bid her; she promised not + to go to Frejus without leave. + </p> + <p> + Finding her so submissive all of a sudden, he went on to suggest that she + must not go kissing every child she saw. “Edouard tells me he saw you + kissing a beggar’s brat. The young rogue was going to quiz you about it at + the dinner-table; luckily, he told me his intention, and I would not let + him. I said the baroness would be annoyed with you for descending from + your dignity—and exposing a noble family to fleas—hush! here + he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Tiresome!” muttered Rose, “just when”— + </p> + <p> + Edouard came forward with a half-vexed face. + </p> + <p> + However, he turned it off into play. “What have you been saying to her, + monsieur, to interest her so? Give me a leaf out of your book. I need it.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor was taken aback for a moment, but at last he said slyly, “I + have been proposing to her to name the day. She says she must consult you + before she decides that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you wicked doctor!—and consult HIM of all people!” + </p> + <p> + “So be off, both of you, and don’t reappear before me till it is settled.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard’s eyes sparkled. Rose went out with a face as red as fire. + </p> + <p> + It was a balmy evening. Edouard was to leave them for a week the next day. + They were alone: Rose was determined he should go away quite happy. + Everything was in Edouard’s favor: he pleaded his cause warmly: she + listened tenderly: this happy evening her piquancy and archness seemed to + dissolve into tenderness as she and Edouard walked hand in hand under the + moon: a tenderness all the more heavenly to her devoted lover, that she + was not one of those angels who cloy a man by invariable sweetness. + </p> + <p> + For a little while she forgot everything but her companion. In that soft + hour he won her to name the day, after her fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine goes to Paris with the doctor in about three weeks,” murmured + she. + </p> + <p> + “And you will stay behind, all alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone? that shall depend on you, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + On this Edouard caught her for the first time in his arms. + </p> + <p> + She made a faint resistance. + </p> + <p> + “Seal me that promise, sweet one!” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!—there!” + </p> + <p> + He pressed a delicious first kiss upon two velvet lips that in their + innocence scarcely shunned the sweet attack. + </p> + <p> + For all that, the bond was no sooner sealed after this fashion, than the + lady’s cheek began to burn. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we go in NOW?” said she, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “It is late, dear Edouard.” + </p> + <p> + And with these words something returned to her mind with its full force: + something that Edouard had actually made her forget. She wanted to get rid + of him now. + </p> + <p> + “Edouard,” said she, “can you get up early in the morning? If you can, + meet me here to-morrow before any of them are up; then we can talk without + interruption.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard was delighted. + </p> + <p> + “Eight o’clock?” + </p> + <p> + “Sooner if you like. Mamma bade me come and read to her in her room + to-night. She will be waiting for me. Is it not tiresome?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we must not mind that, dear; in three weeks’ time we are to have + too much of one another, you know, instead of too little.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much! I shall never have enough of you. I shall hate the night which + will rob me of the sight of you for so many hours in the twenty-four.” + </p> + <p> + “If you can’t see me, perhaps you may hear me; my tongue runs by night as + well as by day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is a comfort,” said Edouard, gravely. “Yes, little quizzer, I + would rather hear you scold than an angel sing. Judge, then, what music it + is when you say you love me!” + </p> + <p> + “I love you, Edouard.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard kissed her hand warmly, and then looked irresolutely at her face. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said she, laughing and blushing. “How rude you are. Next time we + meet.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a bargain. But I won’t go till you say you love me again. + </p> + <p> + “Edouard, don’t be silly. I am ashamed of saying the same thing so often—I + won’t say it any more. What is the use? You know I love you. There, I HAVE + said it: how stupid!” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, then, my wife that is to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu! dear Edouard.” + </p> + <p> + “My hus—go on—my hus—” + </p> + <p> + “My huswife that shall be.” + </p> + <p> + Then they walked very slowly towards the house, and once more Rose left + quizzing, and was all tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not come in, and bid them ‘good-night’?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my own; I am in heaven. Common faces—common voices would bring + me down to earth. Let me be alone;—your sweet words ringing in my + ear. I will dilute you with nothing meaner than the stars. See how bright + they shine in heaven; but not so bright as you shine in my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Edouard, you flatter me, you spoil me. Alas! why am I not more + worthy of your love?” + </p> + <p> + “More worthy! How can that be?” + </p> + <p> + Rose sighed. + </p> + <p> + “But I will atone for all. I will make you a better—(here she + substituted a full stop for a substantive)—than you expect. You will + see else.” + </p> + <p> + She lingered at the door: a proof that if Edouard, at that particular + moment, had seized another kiss, there would have been no very violent + opposition or offence. + </p> + <p> + But he was not so impudent as some. He had been told to wait till the next + meeting for that. He prayed Heaven to bless her, and so the affianced + lovers parted for the night. + </p> + <p> + It was about nine o’clock. Edouard, instead of returning to his lodgings, + started down towards the town, to conclude a bargain with the innkeeper + for an English mare he was in treaty for. He wanted her for to-morrow’s + work; so that decided him to make the purchase. In purchases, as in other + matters, a feather turns the balanced scale. He sauntered leisurely down. + It was a very clear night; the full moon and the stars shining silvery and + vivid. Edouard’s heart swelled with joy. He was loved after all, deeply + loved; and in three short weeks he was actually to be Rose’s husband: her + lord and master. How like a heavenly dream it all seemed—the first + hopeless courtship, and now the wedding fixed! But it was no dream; he + felt her soft words still murmur music at his heart, and the shadow of her + velvet lips slept upon his own. + </p> + <p> + He had strolled about a league when he heard the ring of a horse’s hoofs + coming towards him, accompanied by a clanking noise; it came nearer and + nearer, till it reached a hill that lay a little ahead of Edouard; then + the sounds ceased; the cavalier was walking his horse up the hill. + </p> + <p> + Presently, as if they had started from the earth, up popped between + Edouard and the sky, first a cocked hat that seemed in that light to be + cut with a razor out of flint; then the wearer, phosphorescent here and + there; so brightly the keen moonlight played on his epaulets and steel + scabbard. A step or two nearer, and Edouard gave a great shout; it was + Colonel Raynal. + </p> + <p> + After the first warm greeting, and questions and answers, Raynal told him + he was on his way to the Rhine with despatches. + </p> + <p> + “To the Rhine?” + </p> + <p> + “I am allowed six days to get there. I made a calculation, and found I + could give Beaurepaire half a day. I shall have to make up for it by hard + riding. You know me; always in a hurry. It is Bonaparte’s fault this time. + He is always in a hurry too.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, colonel,” said Edouard, “let us make haste then. Mind they go early + to rest at the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not coming my way, youngster?” + </p> + <p> + “Not coming your way? Yes, but I am. Yours is a face I don’t see every + day, colonel; besides I would not miss THEIR faces, especially the + baroness’s and Madame Raynal’s, at sight of you; and, besides,”—and + the young gentleman chuckled to himself, and thought of Rose’s words, “the + next time we meet;” well, this will be the next time. “May I jump up + behind?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Raynal nodded assent. Edouard took a run, and lighted like a + monkey on the horse’s crupper. He pranced and kicked at this unexpected + addition; but the spur being promptly applied to his flanks, he bounded + off with a snort that betrayed more astonishment than satisfaction, and + away they cantered to Beaurepaire, without drawing rein. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said Edouard, “I was afraid they would be gone to bed; and they + are. The very house seems asleep—fancy—at half-past ten.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a pity,” said Raynal, “for this chateau is the stronghold of + etiquette. They will be two hours dressing before they will come out and + shake hands. I must put my horse into the stable. Go you and give the + alarm.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, colonel. Stop, first let me see whether none of them are up, + after all.” + </p> + <p> + And Edouard walked round the chateau, and soon discovered a light at one + window, the window of the tapestried room. Running round the other way he + came slap upon another light: this one was nearer the ground. A narrow but + massive door, which he had always seen not only locked but screwed up, was + wide open; and through the aperture the light of a candle streamed out and + met the moonlight streaming in. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” cried Edouard. + </p> + <p> + He stopped, turned, and looked in. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” he cried again much louder. + </p> + <p> + A young woman was sleeping with her feet in the silvery moonlight, and her + head in the orange-colored blaze of a flat candle, which rested on the + next step above of a fine stone staircase, whose existence was now first + revealed to the inquisitive Edouard. + </p> + <p> + Coming plump upon all this so unexpectedly, he quite started. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Jacintha!” + </p> + <p> + He touched her on the shoulder to wake her. No. Jacintha was sleeping as + only tired domestics can sleep. He might have taken the candle and burnt + her gown off her back. She had found a step that fitted into the small of + her back, and another that supported her head, and there she was fast as a + door. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Raynal’s voice was heard calling him. + </p> + <p> + “There is a light in that bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not a bedroom, colonel; it is our sitting-room now. We shall find + them all there, or at least the young ladies; and perhaps the doctor. The + baroness goes to bed early. Meantime I can show you one of our dramatis + personae, and an important one too. She rules the roost.” + </p> + <p> + He took him mysteriously and showed him Jacintha. + </p> + <p> + Moonlight by itself seems white, and candlelight by itself seems yellow; + but when the two come into close contrast at night, candle turns a reddish + flame, and moonlight a bluish gleam. + </p> + <p> + So Jacintha, with her shoes in this celestial sheen, and her face in that + demoniacal glare, was enough to knock the gazer’s eye out. + </p> + <p> + “Make a good sentinel—this one,” said Raynal—“an outlying + picket for instance, on rough ground, in front of the enemy’s riflemen.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! colonel! Let us see where this staircase leads. I have an idea it + will prove a short cut.” + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” + </p> + <p> + “To the saloon, or somewhere, or else to some of Jacintha’s haunts. Serve + her right for going to sleep at the mouth of her den.” + </p> + <p> + “Forward then—no, halt! Suppose it leads to the bedrooms? Mind this + is a thundering place for ceremony. We shall get drummed out of the + barracks if we don’t mind our etiquette.” + </p> + <p> + At this they hesitated; and Edouard himself thought, on the whole, it + would be better to go and hammer at the front door. + </p> + <p> + Now while they hesitated, a soft delicious harmony of female voices + suddenly rose, and seemed to come and run round the walls. The men looked + at one another in astonishment; for the effect was magical. The staircase + being enclosed on all sides with stone walls and floored with stone, they + were like flies inside a violoncello; the voices rang above, below, and on + every side of the vibrating walls. In some epochs spirits as hardy as + Raynal’s, and wits as quick as Riviere’s, would have fled then and there + to the nearest public, and told over cups how they had heard the dames of + Beaurepaire, long since dead, holding their revel, and the conscious old + devil’s nest of a chateau quivering to the ghostly strains. + </p> + <p> + But this was an incredulous age. They listened, and listened, and decided + the sounds came from up-stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Let us mount, and surprise these singing witches,” said Edouard. + </p> + <p> + “Surprise them! what for? It is not the enemy—for once. What is the + good of surprising our friends?” + </p> + <p> + Storming parties and surprises were no novelty and therefore no treat to + Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “It will be so delightful to see their faces at first sight of you. O + colonel, for my sake! Don’t spoil it by going tamely in at the front door, + after coming at night from Egypt for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal grumbled something about its being a childish trick; but to please + Edouard consented at last; only stipulated for a light: “or else,” said + he, “we shall surprise ourselves instead with a broken neck, going over + ground we don’t know to surprise the natives—our skirmishers got + nicked that way now and then in Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, colonel, I will go first with Jacintha’s candle.” Edouard mounted + the stairs on tiptoe. Raynal followed. The solid stone steps did not + prate. The men had mounted a considerable way, when puff a blast of wind + came through a hole, and out went Edouard’s candle. He turned sharply + round to Raynal. “Peste!” said he in a vicious whisper. But the other laid + his hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Look to the front.” He looked, + and, his own candle being out, saw a glimmer on ahead. He crept towards + it. It was a taper shooting a feeble light across a small aperture. They + caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a small apartment. Yet Edouard + recognized the carpet of the tapestried room—which was a very large + room. Creeping a yard nearer, he discovered that it was the tapestried + room, and that what had seemed the further wall was only the screen, + behind which were lights, and two women singing a duet. + </p> + <p> + He whispered to Raynal, “It is the tapestried room.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a sitting-room?” whispered Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! yes! Mind and not knock your foot against the wood.” + </p> + <p> + And Raynal went softly up and put his foot quietly through the aperture, + which he now saw was made by a panel drawn back close to the ground; and + stood in the tapestried chamber. The carpet was thick; the voices favored + the stealthy advance; the floor of the old house was like a rock; and + Edouard put his face through the aperture, glowing all over with + anticipation of the little scream of joy that would welcome his friend + dropping in so nice and suddenly from Egypt. + </p> + <p> + The feeling was rendered still more piquant by a sharp curiosity that had + been growing on him for some minutes past. For why was this passage opened + to-night?—he had never seen it opened before. And why was Jacintha + lying sentinel at the foot of the stairs? + </p> + <p> + But this was not all. Now that they were in the room both men became + conscious of another sound besides the ladies’ voices—a very + peculiar sound. It also came from behind the screen. They both heard it, + and showed, by the puzzled looks they cast at one another, that neither + could make out what on earth it was. It consisted of a succession of + little rustles, followed by little thumps on the floor. + </p> + <p> + But what was curious, too, this rustle, thump—rustle, thump—fell + exactly into the time of the music; so that, clearly, either the rustle + thump was being played to the tune, or the tune sung to the rustle thump. + </p> + <p> + This last touch of mystery inflamed Edouard’s impatience beyond bearing: + he pointed eagerly and merrily to the corner of the screen. Raynal obeyed, + and stepped very slowly and cautiously towards it. + </p> + <p> + Rustle, thump! rustle, thump! rustle, thump! with the rhythm of harmonious + voices. + </p> + <p> + Edouard got his head and foot into the room without taking his eye off + Raynal. + </p> + <p> + Rustle, thump! rustle, thump! rustle, thump! + </p> + <p> + Raynal was now at the screen, and quietly put his head round it, and his + hand upon it. + </p> + <p> + Edouard was bursting with expectation. + </p> + <p> + No result. What is this? Don’t they see him? Why does he not speak to + them? He seems transfixed. + </p> + <p> + Rustle, thump! rustle, thump; accompanied now for a few notes by one voice + only, Rose’s. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there burst a shriek from Josephine, so loud, so fearful, that it + made even Raynal stagger back a step, the screen in his hand. + </p> + <p> + Then another scream of terror and anguish from Rose. Then a fainter cry, + and the heavy helpless fall of a human body. + </p> + <p> + Raynal sprang forward whirling the screen to the earth in terrible + agitation, and Edouard bounded over it as it fell at his feet. He did not + take a second step. The scene that caught his eye stupefied and paralyzed + him in full career, and froze him to the spot with amazement and strange + misgivings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. + </h2> + <p> + To return for a moment to Rose. She parted from Edouard, and went in at + the front door: but the next moment she opened it softly and watched her + lover unseen. “Dear Edouard!” she murmured: and then she thought, “how sad + it is that I must deceive him, even to-night: must make up an excuse to + get him from me, when we were so happy together. Ah! he little knows how I + shall welcome our wedding-day. When once I can see my poor martyr on the + road to peace and content under the good doctor’s care. And oh! the + happiness of having no more secrets from him I love! Dear Edouard! when + once we are married, I never, never, will have a secret from you again—I + swear it.” + </p> + <p> + As a comment on these words she now stepped cautiously out, and peered in + every direction. + </p> + <p> + “St—st!” she whispered. No answer came to this signal. + </p> + <p> + Rose returned into the house and bolted the door inside. She went up to + the tapestried room, and found the doctor in the act of wishing Josephine + good-night. The baroness, fatigued a little by her walk, had mounted no + higher than her own bedroom, which was on the first floor just under the + tapestried room. Rose followed the doctor out. “Dear friend, one word. + Josephine talked of telling Raynal. You have not encouraged her to do + that?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, while he is in Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “Still less on his return. Doctor, you don’t know that man. Josephine does + not know him. But I do. He would kill her if he knew. He would kill her + that minute. He would not wait: he would not listen to excuses: he is a + man of iron. Or if he spared her he would kill Camille: and that would + destroy her by the cruellest of all deaths! My friend, I am a wicked, + miserable girl. I am the cause of all this misery!” + </p> + <p> + She then told Aubertin all about the anonymous letter, and what Raynal had + said to her in consequence. + </p> + <p> + “He never would have married her had he known she loved another. He asked + me was it so. I told him a falsehood. At least I equivocated, and to + equivocate with one so loyal and simple was to deceive him. I am the only + sinner: that sweet angel is the only sufferer. Is this the justice of + Heaven? Doctor, my remorse is great. No one knows what I feel when I look + at my work. Edouard thinks I love her so much better than I do him. He is + wrong: it is not love only, it is pity: it is remorse for the sorrow I + have brought on her, and the wrong I have done poor Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + The high-spirited girl was greatly agitated: and Aubertin, though he did + not acquit her of all blame, soothed her, and made excuses for her. + </p> + <p> + “We must not always judge by results,” said he. “Things turned + unfortunately. You did for the best. I forgive you for one. That is, I + will forgive you if you promise not to act again without my advice.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never! never!” + </p> + <p> + “And, above all, no imprudence about that child. In three little weeks + they will be together without risk of discovery. Well, you don’t answer + me.” + </p> + <p> + Rose’s blood turned cold. “Dear friend,” she stammered, “I quite agree + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Promise, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to let Josephine go to Frejus?” said Rose hastily. “Oh, yes! I + promise.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good girl,” said Aubertin. “You have a will of your own. But + you can submit to age and experience.” The doctor then kissed her, and + bade her farewell. + </p> + <p> + “I leave for Paris at six in the morning,” he said. “I will not try your + patience or hers unnecessarily. Perhaps it will not be three weeks ere she + sees her child under her friend’s roof.” + </p> + <p> + The moment Rose was alone, she sat down and sighed bitterly. “There is no + end to it,” she sobbed despairingly. “It is like a spider’s web: every + struggle to be free but multiplies the fine yet irresistible thread that + seems to bind me. And to-night I thought to be so happy; instead of that, + he has left me scarce the heart to do what I have to do.” + </p> + <p> + She went back to the room, opened a window, and put out a white + handkerchief, then closed the window down on it. + </p> + <p> + Then she went to Josephine’s bedroom-door: it opened on the tapestried + room. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine,” she cried, “don’t go to bed just yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No, love. What are you doing? I want to talk to you. Why did you say + promise? and what did you mean by looking at me so? Shall I come out to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not just yet,” said Rose; she then glided into the corridor, and passed + her mother’s room and the doctor’s, and listened to see if all was quiet. + While she was gone Josephine opened her door; but not seeing Rose in the + sitting-room, retired again. + </p> + <p> + Rose returned softly, and sat down with her head in her hand, in a calm + attitude belied by her glancing eye, and the quick tapping of her other + hand upon the table. + </p> + <p> + Presently she raised her head quickly; a sound had reached her ear,—a + sound so slight that none but a high-strung ear could have caught it. It + was like a mouse giving a single scratch against a stone wall. + </p> + <p> + Rose coughed slightly. + </p> + <p> + On this a clearer sound was heard, as of a person scratching wood with the + finger-nail. Rose darted to the side of the room, pressed against the + wall, and at the same time put her other hand against the rim of one of + the panels and pushed it laterally; it yielded, and at the opening stood + Jacintha in her cloak and bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jacintha, “under my cloak—look!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you found the things on the steps?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! I nearly tumbled over them. Have you locked that door?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I will.” And Rose glided to the door and locked it. Then she put + the screen up between Josephine’s room and the open panel: then she and + Jacintha were wonderfully busy on the other side the screen, but presently + Rose said, “This is imprudent; you must go down to the foot of the stairs + and wait till I call you.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha pleaded hard against this arrangement, and represented that there + was no earthly chance of any one coming to that part of the chateau. + </p> + <p> + “No matter; I will be guarded on every side.” + </p> + <p> + “Mustn’t I stop and just see her happy for once?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my poor Jacintha, you must hear it from my lips.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha retired to keep watch as she was bid. Rose went to Josephine’s + room, and threw her arms round her neck and kissed her vehemently. + Josephine returned her embrace, then held her out at arm’s length and + looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Your eyes are red, yet your little face is full of joy. There, you + smile.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help that; I am so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of it. Are you coming to bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I invite you to take a little walk with me first. Come!” and she + led the way slowly, looking back with infinite archness and tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “You almost frighten me,” said Josephine; “it is not like you to be all + joy when I am sad. Three whole weeks more!” + </p> + <p> + “That is it. Why are you sad? because the doctor would not let you go to + Frejus. And why am I not sad? because I had already thought of a way to + let you see Edouard without going so far.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose! O Rose! O Rose!” + </p> + <p> + “This way—come!” and she smiled and beckoned with her finger, while + Josephine followed like one under a spell, her bosom heaving, her eye + glancing on every side, hoping some strange joy, yet scarce daring to + hope. + </p> + <p> + Rose drew back the screen, and there was a sweet little berceau that had + once been Josephine’s own, and in it, sunk deep in snow-white lawn, was a + sleeping child, that lay there looking as a rose might look could it fall + upon new-fallen snow. + </p> + <p> + At sight of it Josephine uttered a little cry, not loud but deep—ay, + a cry to bring tears into the eye of the hearer, and she stood trembling + from head to foot, her hands clasped, and her eye fascinated and fixed on + the cradle. + </p> + <p> + “My child under this roof! What have you done?” but her eye, fascinated + and fixed, never left the cradle. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you languishing, dying, for want of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if anybody should come?” But her eye never stirred an inch from the + cradle. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! the door is locked. Jacintha watches below; there is no dan—Ah, + oh, poor sister!” + </p> + <p> + For, as Rose was speaking, the young mother sprang silently upon her + child. You would have thought she was going to kill him; her head reared + itself again and again like a crested snake’s, and again and again and + again and again plunged down upon the child, and she kissed his little + body from head to foot with soft violence, and murmured, through her + streaming tears, “My child! my darling! my angel! oh, my poor boy! my + child! my child!” + </p> + <p> + I will ask my female readers of every degree to tell their brothers and + husbands all the young noble did: how she sat on the floor, and had her + child on her bosom; how she smiled over it through her tears; how she + purred over it; how she, the stately one, lisped and prattled over it; and + how life came pouring into her heart from it. + </p> + <p> + Before she had had it in her arms five minutes, her pale cheek was as red + as a rose, and her eyes brighter than diamonds. + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, Rose! bless you! bless you! in one moment you have made me + forget all I ever suffered in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a cold draught,” cried she presently, with maternal anxiety; + “close the panel, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear; or I could not call to Jacintha, or she to me; but I will shift + the screen round between him and the draught. There, now, come to his aunt—a + darling!” + </p> + <p> + Then Rose sat on the floor too, and Josephine put her boy on aunt’s lap, + and took a distant view of him. But she could not bear so vast a + separation long. She must have him to her bosom again. + </p> + <p> + Presently my lord, finding himself hugged, opened his eyes, and, as a + natural consequence, his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that will never do,” cried Rose, and they put him back in the cradle + with all expedition, and began to rock it. Young master was not to be + altogether appeased even by that. So Rose began singing an old-fashioned + Breton chant or lullaby. + </p> + <p> + Josephine sang with her, and, singing, watched with a smile her boy drop + off by degrees to sleep under the gentle motion and the lulling song. They + sang and rocked till the lids came creeping down, and hid the great blue + eyes; but still they sang and rocked, lulling the boy, and gladdening + their own hearts; for the quaint old Breton ditty was tunable as the lark + that carols over the green wheat in April; and the words so simple and + motherly, that a nation had taken them to heart. Such songs bind ages + together and make the lofty and the low akin by the great ties of music + and the heart. Many a Breton peasant’s bosom in the olden time had gushed + over her sleeping boy as the young dame’s of Beaurepaire gushed now—in + this quaint, tuneful lullaby. + </p> + <p> + Now, as they kneeled over the cradle, one on each side, and rocked it, and + sang that ancient chant, Josephine, who was opposite the screen, happening + to raise her eyes, saw a strange thing. + </p> + <p> + There was the face of a man set close against the side of the screen, and + peeping and peering out of the gloom. The light of her candle fell full on + this face; it glared at her, set pale, wonder-struck, and vivid in the + surrounding gloom. + </p> + <p> + Horror! It was her husband’s face. + </p> + <p> + At first she was quite stupefied, and looked at it with soul and senses + benumbed. Then she trembled, and put her hand to her eyes; for she thought + it a phantom or a delusion of the mind. No: there it glared still. Then + she trembled violently, and held out her left hand, the fingers working + convulsively, to Rose, who was still singing. + </p> + <p> + But, at the same moment, the mouth of this face suddenly opened in a + long-drawn breath. At this, Josephine uttered a violent shriek, and sprang + to her feet, with her right hand quivering and pointing at that pale face + set in the dark. + </p> + <p> + Rose started up, and, wheeling her head round, saw Raynal’s gloomy face + looking over her shoulder. She fell screaming upon her knees, and, almost + out of her senses, began to pray wildly and piteously for mercy. + </p> + <p> + Josephine uttered one more cry, but this was the faint cry of nature, + sinking under the shock of terror. She swooned dead away, and fell + senseless on the floor ere Raynal could debarrass himself of the screen, + and get to her. + </p> + <p> + This, then, was the scene that met Edouard’s eyes. His affianced bride on + her knees, white as a ghost, trembling, and screaming, rather than crying, + for mercy. And Raynal standing over his wife, showing by the working of + his iron features that he doubted whether she was worthy he should raise + her. + </p> + <p> + One would have thought nothing could add to the terror of this scene. Yet + it was added to. The baroness rang her bell violently in the room below. + She had heard Josephine’s scream and fall. + </p> + <p> + At the ringing of this shrill bell Rose shuddered like a maniac, and + grovelled on her knees to Raynal, and seized his very knees and implored + him to show some pity. + </p> + <p> + “O sir! kill us! we are culpable”— + </p> + <p> + Dring! dring! dring! dring! dring! pealed the baroness’s bell again. + </p> + <p> + “But do not tell our mother. Oh, if you are a man! do not! do not! Show us + some pity. We are but women. Mercy! mercy! mercy!” + </p> + <p> + “Speak out then,” groaned Raynal. “What does this mean? Why has my wife + swooned at sight of me?—whose is this child?” + </p> + <p> + “Whose?” stammered Rose. Till he said that, she never thought there COULD + be a doubt whose child. + </p> + <p> + Dring! dring! dring! dring! dring! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God!” cried the poor girl, and her scared eyes glanced every way + like some wild creature looking for a hole, however small, to escape by. + </p> + <p> + Edouard, seeing her hesitation, came down on her other side. “Whose is the + child, Rose?” said he sternly. + </p> + <p> + “You, too? Why were we born? mercy! oh! pray let me go to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Dring! dring! dring! dring! dring! went the terrible bell. + </p> + <p> + The men were excited to fury by Rose’s hesitation; they each seized an + arm, and tore her screaming with fear at their violence, from her knees up + to her feet between them with a single gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Whose is the child?” + </p> + <p> + “You hurt me!” said she bitterly to Edouard, and she left crying and was + terribly calm and sullen all in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Whose is the child?” roared Edouard and Raynal, in one raging breath. + “Whose is the child?” + </p> + <p> + “It is mine.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. + </h2> + <p> + These were not words; they were electric shocks. + </p> + <p> + The two arms that gripped Rose’s arms were paralyzed, and dropped off + them; and there was silence. + </p> + <p> + Then first the thought of all she had done with those three words began to + rise and grow and surge over her. She stood, her eyes turned downwards, + yet inwards, and dilating with horror. + </p> + <p> + Silence. + </p> + <p> + Now a mist began to spread over her eyes, and in it she saw indistinctly + the figure of Raynal darting to her sister’s side, and raising her head. + </p> + <p> + She dared not look round on the other side. She heard feet stagger on the + floor. She heard a groan, too; but not a word. + </p> + <p> + Horrible silence. + </p> + <p> + With nerves strung to frenzy, and quivering ears, that magnified every + sound, she waited for a reproach, a curse; either would have been some + little relief. But no! a silence far more terrible. + </p> + <p> + Then a step wavered across the room. Her soul was in her ear. She could + hear and feel the step totter, and it shook her as it went. All sounds + were trebled to her. Then it struck on the stone step of the staircase, + not like a step, but a knell; another step, another and another; down to + the very bottom. Each slow step made her head ring and her heart freeze. + </p> + <p> + At last she heard no more. Then a scream of anguish and recall rose to her + lips. She fought it down, for Josephine and Raynal. Edouard was gone. She + had but her sister now, the sister she loved better than herself; the + sister to save whose life and honor she had this moment sacrificed her + own, and all a woman lives for. + </p> + <p> + She turned, with a wild cry of love and pity, to that sister’s side to + help her; and when she kneeled down beside her, an iron arm was promptly + thrust out between the beloved one and her. + </p> + <p> + “This is my care, madame,” said Raynal, coldly. + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking his manner. The stained one was not to touch his + wife. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in piteous amazement at his ingratitude. “It is well,” + said she. “It is just. I deserve this from you.” + </p> + <p> + She said no more, but drooped gently down beside the cradle, and hid her + forehead in the clothes beside the child that had brought all this woe, + and sobbed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + Then honest Raynal began to be sorry for her, in spite of himself. But + there was no time for this. Josephine stirred; and, at the same moment, a + violent knocking came at the door of the apartment, and the new servant’s + voice, crying, “Ladies, for Heaven’s sake, what is the matter? The + baroness heard a fall—she is getting up—she will be here. What + shall I tell her is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Raynal was going to answer, but Rose, who had started up at the knocking, + put her hand in a moment right before his mouth, and ran to the door. + “There is nothing the matter; tell mamma I am coming down to her + directly.” She flew back to Raynal in an excitement little short of + frenzy. “Help me carry her into her own room,” cried she imperiously. + Raynal obeyed by instinct; for the fiery girl spoke like a general, giving + the word of command, with the enemy in front. He carried the true culprit + in his arms, and laid her gently on her bed. + </p> + <p> + “Now put IT out of sight—take this, quick, man! quick!” cried Rose. + </p> + <p> + Raynal went to the cradle. “Ah! my poor girl,” said he, as he lifted it in + his arms, “this is a sorry business; to have to hide your own child from + your own mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Raynal,” said Rose, “do not insult a poor, despairing girl. C’est + lache.” + </p> + <p> + “I am silent, young woman,” said Raynal, sternly. “What is to be done?” + </p> + <p> + “Take it down the steps, and give it to Jacintha. Stay, here is a candle; + I go to tell mamma you are come; and, Colonel Raynal, I never injured YOU: + if you tell my mother you will stab her to the heart, and me, and may the + curse of cowards light on you!—may”— + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” said Raynal, sternly. “Do you take me for a babbling girl? I + love your mother better than you do, or this brat of yours would not be + here. I shall not bring her gray hairs down with sorrow to the grave. I + shall speak of this villany to but one person; and to him I shall talk + with this, and not with the idle tongue.” And he tapped his sword-hilt + with a sombre look of terrible significance. + </p> + <p> + He carried out the cradle. The child slept sweetly through it all. + </p> + <p> + Rose darted into Josephine’s room, took the key from the inside to the + outside, locked the door, put the key in her pocket, and ran down to her + mother’s room; her knees trembled under her as she went. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Jacintha, sleeping tranquilly, suddenly felt her throat griped, + and heard a loud voice ring in her ear; then she was lifted, and wrenched, + and dropped. She found herself lying clear of the steps in the moonlight; + her head was where her feet had been, and her candle out. + </p> + <p> + She uttered shriek upon shriek, and was too frightened to get up. She + thought it was supernatural; some old De Beaurepaire had served her thus + for sleeping on her post. A struggle took place between her fidelity and + her superstitious fears. Fidelity conquered. Quaking in every limb, she + groped up the staircase for her candle. + </p> + <p> + It was gone. + </p> + <p> + Then a still more sickening fear came over her. + </p> + <p> + What if this was no spirit’s work, but a human arm—a strong one—some + man’s arm? + </p> + <p> + Her first impulse was to dart up the stairs, and make sure that no + calamity had befallen through her mistimed drowsiness. But, when she came + to try, her dread of the supernatural revived. She could not venture + without a light up those stairs, thronged perhaps with angry spirits. She + ran to the kitchen. She found the tinderbox, and with trembling hands + struck a light. She came back shading it with her shaky hands; and, + committing her soul to the care of Heaven, she crept quaking up the + stairs. Then she heard voices above, and that restored her more; she + mounted more steadily. Presently she stopped, for a heavy step was coming + down. It did not sound like a woman’s step. It came further down; she + turned to fly. + </p> + <p> + “Jacintha!” said a deep voice, that in this stone cylinder rang like + thunder from a tomb. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! saints and angels save me!” yelled Jacintha; and fell on her knees, + and hid her head for security; and down went her candlestick clattering on + the stone. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be a fool!” said the iron voice. “Get up and take this.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her head by slow degrees, shuddering. A man was holding out a + cradle to her; the candle he carried lighted up his face; it was Colonel + Raynal. + </p> + <p> + She stared at him stupidly, but never moved from her knees, and the candle + began to shake violently in her hand, as she herself trembled from head to + foot. + </p> + <p> + Then Raynal concluded she was in the plot; but, scorning to reproach a + servant, he merely said, “Well, what do you kneel there for, gaping at me + like that? Take this, I tell you, and carry it out of the house.” + </p> + <p> + He shoved the cradle roughly down into her hands, then turned on his heel + without a word. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha collapsed on the stairs, and the cradle beside her, for all the + power was driven out of her body; she could hardly support her own weight, + much less the cradle. + </p> + <p> + She rocked herself, and moaned out, “Oh, what’s this? oh, what’s this?” + </p> + <p> + A cold perspiration came over her whole frame. + </p> + <p> + “What could this mean? What on earth had happened?” + </p> + <p> + She took up the candle, for it was lying burning and guttering on the + stairs; scraped up the grease with the snuffers, and by force of habit + tried to polish it clean with a bit of paper that shook between her + fingers; she did not know what she was doing. When she recovered her wits, + she took the child out of the cradle, and wrapped it carefully in her + shawl; then went slowly down the stairs; and holding him close to her + bosom, with a furtive eye, and brain confused, and a heart like lead, + stole away to the tenantless cottage, where Madame Jouvenel awaited her. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Rose, with quaking heart, had encountered the baroness. She + found her pale and agitated, and her first question was, “What is the + matter? what have you been all doing over my head?” + </p> + <p> + “Darling mother,” replied Rose, evasively, “something has happened that + will rejoice your heart. Somebody has come home.” + </p> + <p> + “My son? eh, no! impossible! We cannot be so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be with you directly.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady now trembled with joyful agitation. + </p> + <p> + “In five minutes I will bring him to you. Shall you be dressed? I will + ring for the girl to help you.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Rose, the scream, and that terrible fall. Ah! where is Josephine?” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you guess, mamma? Oh, the fall was only the screen; they stumbled + over it in the dark.” + </p> + <p> + “They! who?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Raynal, and—and Edouard. I will tell you, mamma, but don’t + be angry, or even mention it; they wanted to surprise us. They saw a light + burning, and they crept on tiptoe up to the tapestried room, where + Josephine and I were, and they did give us a great fright.” + </p> + <p> + “What madness!” cried the baroness, angrily; “and in Josephine’s weak + state! Such a surprise might have driven her into a fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was foolish, but let it pass, mamma. Don’t speak of it, for he is + so sorry about it.” + </p> + <p> + Then Rose slipped out, ordered a fire in the salon, and not in the + tapestried room, and the next minute was at her sister’s door. There she + found Raynal knocking, and asking Josephine how she was. + </p> + <p> + “Pray leave her to me a moment,” said she. “I will bring her down to you. + Mamma is waiting for you in the salon.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal went down. Rose unlocked the bedroom-door, went in, and, to her + horror, found Josephine lying on the floor. She dashed water in her face, + and applied every remedy; and at last she came back to life, and its + terrors. + </p> + <p> + “Save me, Rose! save me—he is coming to kill me—I heard him at + the door,” and she clung trembling piteously to Rose. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose, seeing her terror, was almost glad at the suicidal falsehood + she had told. She comforted and encouraged Josephine and—deceived + her. (This was the climax.) + </p> + <p> + “All is well, my poor coward,” she cried; “your fears are all imaginary; + another has owned the child, and the story is believed.” + </p> + <p> + “Another! impossible! He would not believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “He does believe it—he shall believe it.” + </p> + <p> + Rose then, feeling by no means sure that Josephine, terrified as she was, + would consent to let her sister come to shame to screen her, told her + boldly that Jacintha had owned herself the mother of the child, and that + Raynal’s only feeling towards HER was pity, and regret at having so + foolishly frightened her, weakened as she was by illness. “I told him you + had been ill, dear. But how came you on the ground?” + </p> + <p> + “I had come to myself; I was on my knees praying. He tapped. I heard his + voice. I remember no more. I must have fainted again directly.” + </p> + <p> + Rose had hard work to make her believe that her guilt, as she called it, + was not known; and even then she could not prevail on her to come + down-stairs, until she said, “If you don’t, he will come to you.” On that + Josephine consented eagerly, and with trembling fingers began to adjust + her hair and her dress for the interview. + </p> + <p> + All this terrible night Rose fought for her sister. She took her + down-stairs to the salon; she put her on the sofa; she sat by her and + pressed her hand constantly to give her courage. She told the story of the + surprise her own way, before the whole party, including the doctor, to + prevent Raynal from being called on to tell it his way. She laughed at + Josephine’s absurdity, but excused it on account of her feeble health. In + short, she threw more and more dust in all their eyes. + </p> + <p> + But by the time when the rising sun came faintly in and lighted the + haggard party, where the deceived were happy, the deceivers wretched, the + supernatural strength this young girl had shown was almost exhausted. She + felt an hysterical impulse to scream and weep: each minute it became more + and more ungovernable. Then came an unexpected turn. Raynal after a long + and tiring talk with his mother, as he called her, looked at his watch, + and in a characteristic way coolly announced his immediate departure, this + being the first hint he had given them that he was not come back for good. + </p> + <p> + The baroness was thunderstruck. + </p> + <p> + Rose and Josephine pressed one another’s hands, and had much ado not to + utter a loud cry of joy. + </p> + <p> + Raynal explained that he was the bearer of despatches. “I must be off: not + an hour to lose. Don’t fret, mother, I shall soon be back again, if I am + not knocked on the head.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal took leave of them all. When it came to Rose’s turn, he drew her + aside and whispered into her ear, “Who is the man?” + </p> + <p> + She started, and seemed dumfounded. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, or I ask my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “She has promised me not to betray me: I made her swear. Spare me now, + brother; I will tell you all when you come back.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a bargain: now hear ME swear: he shall marry you, or he shall die + by my hand.” + </p> + <p> + He confirmed this by a tremendous oath. + </p> + <p> + Rose shuddered, but said nothing, only she thought to herself, “I am + forewarned. Never shall you know who is the father of that child.” + </p> + <p> + He was no sooner gone than the baroness insisted on knowing what this + private communication between him and Rose was about. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Rose, “he was only telling me to keep up your courage and + Josephine’s till he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + This was the last lie the poor entangled wretch had to tell that morning. + The next minute the sisters, exhausted by their terrible struggle, went + feebly, with downcast eyes, along the corridor and up the staircase to + Josephine’s room. + </p> + <p> + They went hand in hand. They sank down, dressed as they were, on + Josephine’s bed, and clung to one another and trembled together, till + their exhausted natures sank into uneasy slumbers, from which each in turn + would wake ever and anon with a convulsive start, and clasp her sister + tighter to her breast. + </p> + <p> + Theirs was a marvellous love. Even a course of deceit had not yet + prevailed to separate or chill their sister bosoms. But still in this deep + and wonderful love there were degrees: one went a shade deeper than the + other now—ay, since last night. Which? why, she who had sacrificed + herself for the other, and dared not tell her, lest the sacrifice should + be refused. + </p> + <p> + It was the gray of the morning, and foggy, when Raynal, after taking + leave, went to the stable for his horse. At the stable-door he came upon a + man sitting doubled up on the very stones of the yard, with his head on + his knees. The figure lifted his head, and showed him the face of Edouard + Riviere, white and ghastly: his hair lank with the mist, his teeth + chattering with cold and misery. The poor wretch had walked frantically + all night round and round the chateau, waiting till Raynal should come + out. He told him so. + </p> + <p> + “But why didn’t you?—Ah! I see. No! you could not go into the house + after that. My poor fellow, there is but one thing for you to do. Turn + your back on her, and forget she ever lived; she is dead to you.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something to be done besides that,” said Edouard, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my affair, young man. When I come back from the Rhine, she will + tell me who her seducer is. She has promised.” + </p> + <p> + “And don’t you see through that?” said Edouard, gnashing his teeth; “that + is only to gain time: she will never tell you. She is young in years, but + old in treachery.” + </p> + <p> + He groaned and was silent a moment, then laying his hand on Raynal’s arm + said grimly, “Thank Heaven, we don’t depend on her for information! I know + the villain.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal’s eyes flashed: “Ah! then tell me this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “It is that scoundrel Dujardin.” + </p> + <p> + “Dujardin! What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that, while you were fighting for France, your house was turned + into a hospital for wounded soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray, sir, to what more honorable use could they put it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this Dujardin was housed by you, was nursed by your wife and all + the family; and in return has seduced your sister, my affianced.” + </p> + <p> + “I can hardly believe that. Camille Dujardin was always a man of honor, + and a good soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, there has been no man near the place but this Dujardin. I tell + you it is he. Don’t make me tear my bleeding heart out: must I tell you + how often I caught them together, how I suspected, and how she gulled me? + blind fool that I was, to believe a woman’s words before my own eyes. I + swear to you he is the villain; the only question is, which of us two is + to kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the man?” + </p> + <p> + “In the army of the Rhine.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! all the better.” + </p> + <p> + “Covered with glory and honor. Curse him! oh, curse him! curse him!” + </p> + <p> + “I am in luck. I am going to the Rhine.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it. That is why I waited here all through this night of misery. + Yes, you are in luck. But you will send me a line when you have killed + him; will you not? Then I shall know joy again. Should he escape you, he + shall not escape me.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” said Raynal, with dignity, “this rage is unmanly. Besides, we + have not heard his side of the story. He is a good soldier; perhaps he is + not all to blame: or perhaps passion has betrayed him into a sin that his + conscience and honor disapprove: if so, he must not die. You think only of + your wrong: it is natural: but I am the girl’s brother; guardian of her + honor and my own. His life is precious as gold. I shall make him marry + her.” + </p> + <p> + “What! reward him for his villany?” cried Edouard, frantically. + </p> + <p> + “A mighty reward,” replied Raynal, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “You leave one thing out of the calculation, monsieur,” said Edouard, + trembling with anger, “that I will kill your brother-in-law at the altar, + before her eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU leave one thing out of the calculation: that you will first have to + cross swords, at the altar, with me.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it. I will not draw on my old commandant. I could not; but be sure + I will catch him and her alone some day, and the bride shall be a widow in + her honeymoon.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please,” said Raynal, coolly. “That is all fair, as you have been + wronged. I shall make her an honest wife, and then you may make her an + honest widow. (This is what they call LOVE, and sneer at me for keeping + clear of it.) But neither he nor you shall keep MY SISTER what she is now, + a ——,” and he used a word out of camp. + </p> + <p> + Edouard winced and groaned. “Oh! don’t call her by such a name. There is + some mystery. She loved me once. There must have been some strange + seduction.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you deceive yourself,” said Raynal. “I never saw a girl that could + take her own part better than she can; she is not like her sister at all + in character. Not that I excuse him; it was a dishonorable act, an + ungrateful act to my wife and my mother.” + </p> + <p> + “And to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me: in four days I shall stand before him. I shall not go + into a pet like you; I am in earnest. I shall just say to him, ‘Dujardin, + I know all!’ Then if he is guilty his face will show it directly. Then I + shall say, ‘Comrade, you must marry her whom you have dishonored.’” + </p> + <p> + “He will not. He is a libertine, a rascal.” + </p> + <p> + “You are speaking of a man you don’t know. He WILL marry her and repair + the wrong he has done.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose he refuses?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should he refuse? The girl is not ugly nor old, and if she has done a + folly, he was her partner in it.” + </p> + <p> + “But SUPPOSE he refuses?” + </p> + <p> + Raynal ground his teeth. “Refuse? If he does, I’ll run my sword through + his carcass then and there, and the hussy shall go into a convent.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. + </h2> + <p> + The French army lay before a fortified place near the Rhine, which we will + call Philipsburg. + </p> + <p> + This army knew Bonaparte by report only; it was commanded by generals of + the old school. + </p> + <p> + Philipsburg was defended on three sides by the nature of the ground; but + on the side that faced the French line of march there was only a zigzag + wall, pierced, and a low tower or two at each of the salient angles. + </p> + <p> + There were evidences of a tardy attempt to improve the defences. In + particular there was a large round bastion, about three times the height + of the wall; but the masonry was new, and the very embrasures were not yet + cut. + </p> + <p> + Young blood was for assaulting these equivocal fortifications at the end + of the day’s march that brought the French advanced guard in sight of the + place; but the old generals would not hear of it; the soldiers’ lives must + not be flung away assaulting a place that could be reduced in twenty-one + days with mathematical certainty. For at this epoch a siege was looked on + as a process with a certain result, the only problem was in how many days + would the place be taken; and even this they used to settle to a day or + two on paper by arithmetic; so many feet of wall, and so many guns on the + one side; so many guns, so many men, and such and such a soil to cut the + trenches in on the other: result, two figures varying from fourteen to + forty. These two figures represented the duration of the siege. + </p> + <p> + For all that, siege arithmetic, right in general, has often been terribly + disturbed by one little incident, that occurs from time to time; viz., + Genius INside. And, indeed, this is one of the sins of genius; it goes and + puts out calculations that have stood the brunt of years. Archimedes and + Todleben were, no doubt, clever men in their way and good citizens, yet + one characteristic of delicate men’s minds they lacked—veneration; + they showed a sad disrespect for the wisdom of the ancients, deranged the + calculations which so much learning and patient thought had hallowed, + disturbed the minds of white-haired veterans, took sieges out of the grasp + of science, and plunged them back into the field of wild conjecture. + </p> + <p> + Our generals then sat down at fourteen hundred yards’ distance, and + planned the trenches artistically, and directed them to be cut at artful + angles, and so creep nearer and nearer the devoted town. Then the + Prussians, whose hearts had been in their shoes at first sight of the + French shakos, plucked up, and turned not the garrison only but the + population of the town into engineers and masons. Their fortifications + grew almost as fast as the French trenches. + </p> + <p> + The first day of the siege, a young but distinguished brigadier in the + French army rode to the quarters of General Raimbaut, who commanded his + division, and was his personal friend, and respectfully but firmly + entreated the general to represent to the commander-in-chief the propriety + of assaulting that new bastion before it should become dangerous. “My + brigade shall carry it in fifteen minutes, general,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “What! cross all that open under fire? One-half your brigade would never + reach the bastion.” + </p> + <p> + “But the other half would take it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not so certain.” + </p> + <p> + General Raimbaut refused to forward the young colonel’s proposal to + headquarters. “I will not subject you to TWO refusals in one matter,” said + he, kindly. + </p> + <p> + The young colonel lingered. He said, respectfully, “One question, general, + when that bastion cuts its teeth will it be any easier to take than now?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; it will always be easier to take it from the sap than to cross + the open under fire to it, and take it. Come, colonel, to your trenches; + and if your friend should cut its teeth, you shall have a battery in your + attack that will set its teeth on edge. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + The young colonel did not echo his chief’s humor; he saluted gravely, and + returned to the trenches. + </p> + <p> + The next morning three fresh tiers of embrasures grinned one above another + at the besiegers. The besieged had been up all night, and not idle. In + half these apertures black muzzles showed themselves. + </p> + <p> + The bastion had cut its front teeth. + </p> + <p> + Thirteenth day of the siege. + </p> + <p> + The trenches were within four hundred yards of the enemy’s guns, and it + was hot work in them. The enemy had three tiers of guns in the round + bastion, and on the top they had got a long 48-pounder, which they worked + with a swivel joint, or the like, and threw a great roaring shot into any + part of the French lines. + </p> + <p> + As to the commander-in-chief and his generals, they were dotted about a + long way in the rear, and no shot came as far as them; but in the trenches + the men began now to fall fast, especially on the left attack, which faced + the round bastion. Our young colonel had got his heavy battery, and every + now and then he would divert the general efforts of the bastion, and + compel it to concentrate its attention on him, by pounding away at it till + it was all in sore places. But he meant it worse mischief than that. + Still, as heretofore, regarding it as the key to Philipsburg, he had got a + large force of engineers at work driving a mine towards it, and to this he + trusted more than to breaching it; for the bigger holes he made in it by + day were all stopped at night by the townspeople. + </p> + <p> + This colonel was not a favorite in the division to which his brigade + belonged. He was a good soldier, but a dull companion. He was also accused + of hauteur and of an unsoldierly reserve with his brother officers. + </p> + <p> + Some loose-tongued ones even called him a milk-sop, because he was + constantly seen conversing with the priest—he who had nothing to say + to an honest soldier. + </p> + <p> + Others said, “No, hang it, he is not a milk-sop: he is a tried soldier: he + is a sulky beggar all the same.” Those under his immediate command were + divided in opinion about him. There was something about him they could not + understand. Why was his sallow face so stern, so sad? and why with all + that was his voice so gentle? somehow the few words that did fall from his + mouth were prized. One old soldier used to say, “I would rather have a + word from our brigadier than from the commander-in-chief.” Others thought + he must at some part of his career have pillaged a church, taken the + altar-piece, and sold it to a picture-dealer in Paris, or whipped the + earrings out of the Madonna’s ears, or admitted the female enemy to + quarter upon ungenerous conditions: this, or some such crime to which we + poor soldiers are liable: and now was committing the mistake of remording + himself about it. “Always alongside the chaplain, you see!” + </p> + <p> + This cold and silent man had won the heart of the most talkative sergeant + in the French army. Sergeant La Croix protested with many oaths that all + the best generals of the day had commanded him in turn, and that his + present colonel was the first that had succeeded in inspiring him with + unlimited confidence. “He knows every point of war—this one,” said + La Croix, “I heard him beg and pray for leave to storm this thundering + bastion before it was armed: but no, the old muffs would be wiser than our + colonel. So now here we are kept at bay by a place that Julius Caesar and + Cannibal wouldn’t have made two bites at apiece; no more would I if I was + the old boy out there behind the hill.” In such terms do sergeants denote + commanders-in-chief—at a distance. A voluble sergeant has more + influence with the men than the minister of war is perhaps aware: on the + whole, the 24th brigade would have followed its gloomy colonel to grim + death and a foot farther. One thing gave these men a touch of + superstitious reverence for their commander. He seemed to them free from + physical weakness. He never SAT DOWN to dinner, and seemed never to sleep. + At no hour of the day or night were the sentries safe from his visits. + </p> + <p> + Very annoying. But, after awhile, it led to keen watchfulness: the more so + that the sad and gloomy colonel showed by his manner he appreciated it. + Indeed, one night he even opened his marble jaws, and told Sergeant La + Croix that a watchful sentry was an important soldier, not to his brigade + only, but to the whole army. Judge whether the maxim and the implied + encomium did not circulate next morning, with additions. + </p> + <p> + Sixteenth day of the siege. The round bastion opened fire at eight + o’clock, not on the opposing battery, but on the right of the French + attack. Its advanced position enabled a portion of its guns to rake these + trenches slant-wise: and depressing its guns it made the round shot strike + the ground first and ricochet over. + </p> + <p> + On this our colonel opened on them with all his guns: one of these he + served himself. Among his other warlike accomplishments, he was a + wonderful shot with a cannon. He showed them capital practice this + morning: drove two embrasures into one, and knocked about a ton of masonry + off the parapet. Then taking advantage of this, he served two of his guns + with grape, and swept the enemy off the top of the bastion, and kept it + clear. He made it so hot they could not work the upper guns. Then they + turned the other two tiers all upon him, and at it both sides went ding, + dong, till the guns were too hot to be worked. So then Sergeant La Croix + popped his head up from the battery, and showed the enemy a great white + plate. This was meant to convey to them an invitation to dine with the + French army: the other side of the table of course. + </p> + <p> + To the credit of Prussian intelligence be it recorded, that this + pantomimic hint was at once taken and both sides went to dinner. + </p> + <p> + The fighting colonel, however, remained in the battery, and kept a + detachment of his gunners employed cooling the guns and repairing the + touch-holes. He ordered his two cutlets and his glass of water into the + battery. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the enemy fired a single gun at long intervals, as much as to + say, “We had the last word.” + </p> + <p> + Let trenches be cut ever so artfully, there will be a little space exposed + here and there at the angles. These spaces the men are ordered to avoid, + or whip quickly across them into cover. + </p> + <p> + Now the enemy had just got the range of one of these places with their + solitary gun, and had already dropped a couple of shot right on to it. A + camp follower with a tray, two cutlets, and a glass of water, came to this + open space just as a puff of white smoke burst from the bastion. Instead + of instantly seeking shelter till the shot had struck, he, in his + inexperience, thought the shot must have struck, and all danger be over. + He stayed there mooning instead of pelting under cover: the shot + (eighteen-pound) struck him right on the breast, knocked him into + spilikins, and sent the mutton cutlets flying. + </p> + <p> + The human fragments lay quiet, ten yards off. But a soldier that was + eating his dinner kicked it over, and jumped up at the side of “Death’s + Alley” (as it was christened next minute), and danced and yelled with + pain. + </p> + <p> + “Haw! haw! haw!” roared a soldier from the other side of the alley. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” cried Sergeant La Croix. “What do you laugh at, Private + Cadel?” said he sternly, for, though he was too far in the trench to see, + he had heard that horrible sound a soldier knows from every other, the + “thud” of a round shot striking man or horse. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant,” said Cadel, respectfully, “I laugh to see Private Dard, that + got the wind of the shot, dance and sing, when the man that got the shot + itself does not say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “The wind of the shot, you rascal!” roared Private Dard: “look here!” and + he showed the blood running down his face. + </p> + <p> + The shot had actually driven a splinter of bone out of the sutler into + Dard’s temple. + </p> + <p> + “I am the unluckiest fellow in the army,” remonstrated Dard: and he + stamped in a circle. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me you are only the second unluckiest this time,” said a young + soldier with his mouth full; and, with a certain dry humor, he pointed + vaguely over his shoulder with the fork towards the corpse. + </p> + <p> + The trenches laughed and assented. + </p> + <p> + This want of sympathy and justice irritated Dard. “You cursed fools!” + cried he. “He is gone where we must all go—without any trouble. But + look at me. I am always getting barked. Dogs of Prussians! they pick me + out among a thousand. I shall have a headache all the afternoon, you see + else.” + </p> + <p> + Some of our heads would never have ached again: but Dard had a good thick + skull. + </p> + <p> + Dard pulled out his spilikin savagely. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll wrap it up in paper for Jacintha,” said he. “Then that will learn + her what a poor soldier has to go through.” + </p> + <p> + Even this consolation was denied Private Dard. + </p> + <p> + Corporal Coriolanus Gand, a bit of an infidel from Lyons, who sometimes + amused himself with the Breton’s superstition, told him with a grave face, + that the splinter belonged not to him, but to the sutler, and, though so + small, was doubtless a necessary part of his frame. + </p> + <p> + “If you keep that, it will be a bone of contention between you two,” said + he; “especially at midnight. HE WILL BE ALWAYS COMING BACK TO YOU FOR IT.” + </p> + <p> + “There, take it away!” said the Breton hastily, “and bury it with the poor + fellow.” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant La Croix presented himself before the colonel with a rueful face + and saluted him and said, “Colonel, I beg a thousand pardons; your dinner + has been spilt—a shot from the bastion.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” said the colonel. “Give me a piece of bread instead.” + </p> + <p> + La Croix went for it himself, and on his return found Cadel sitting on one + side of Death’s Alley, and Dard with his head bound up on the other. They + had got a bottle which each put up in turn wherever he fancied the next + round shot would strike, and they were betting their afternoon rations + which would get the Prussians to hit the bottle first. + </p> + <p> + La Croix pulled both their ears playfully. + </p> + <p> + “Time is up for playing marbles,” said he. “Be off, and play at duty,” and + he bundled them into the battery. + </p> + <p> + It was an hour past midnight: a cloudy night. The moon was up, but seen + only by fitful gleams. A calm, peaceful silence reigned. + </p> + <p> + Dard was sentinel in the battery. + </p> + <p> + An officer going his rounds found the said sentinel flat instead of + vertical. He stirred him with his scabbard, and up jumped Dard. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, sergeant. O Lord! it’s the colonel. I wasn’t asleep, + colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not accused you. But you will explain what you were doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” said Dard, all in a flutter, “I was taking a squint at them, + because I saw something. The beggars are building a wall, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Between us and the bastion.” + </p> + <p> + “Show me.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t, colonel; the moon has gone in; but I did see it.” + </p> + <p> + “How long was it?” + </p> + <p> + “About a hundred yards.” + </p> + <p> + “How high?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, it was ten feet high if it was an inch.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you good sight?” + </p> + <p> + “La! colonel, wasn’t I a bit of a poacher before I took to the bayonet?” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Now reflect. If you persist in this statement, I turn out the + brigade on your information.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll stand the fire of a corporal’s guard at break of day if I make a + mistake now,” said Dard. + </p> + <p> + The colonel glided away, called his captain and first lieutenants, and + said two words in each ear, that made them spring off their backs. + </p> + <p> + Dard, marching to an fro, musket on shoulder, found himself suddenly + surrounded by grim, silent, but deadly eager soldiers, that came pouring + like bees into the open space behind the battery. The officers came round + the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Attend to two things,” said he to the captains. “Don’t fire till they are + within ten yards: and don’t follow them unless I lead you.” + </p> + <p> + The men were then told off by companies, some to the battery, some to the + trenches, some were kept on each side Death’s Alley, ready for a rush. + </p> + <p> + They were not all of them in position, when those behind the parapet saw, + as it were, something deepen the gloom of night, some fourscore yards to + the front: it was like a line of black ink suddenly drawn upon a sheet + covered with Indian ink. + </p> + <p> + It seems quite stationary. The novices wondered what it was. The veterans + muttered—“Three deep.” + </p> + <p> + Though it looked stationary, it got blacker and blacker. The soldiers of + the 24th brigade griped their muskets hard, and set their teeth, and the + sergeants had much ado to keep them quiet. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden, a loud yell on the right of the brigade, two or three + single shots from the trenches in that direction, followed by a volley, + the cries of wounded men, and the fierce hurrahs of an attacking party. + </p> + <p> + Our colonel knew too well those sounds: the next parallel had been + surprised, and the Prussian bayonet was now silently at work. + </p> + <p> + Disguise was now impossible. At the first shot, a guttural voice in front + of Dujardin’s men was heard to give a word of command. There was a sharp + rattle and in a moment the thick black line was tipped with glittering + steel. + </p> + <p> + A roar and a rush, and the Prussian line three deep came furiously like a + huge steel-pointed wave, at the French lines. A tremendous wave of fire + rushed out to meet that wave of steel: a crash of two hundred muskets, and + all was still. Then you could see through the black steel-tipped line in a + hundred frightful gaps, and the ground sparkled with bayonets and the air + rang with the cries of the wounded. + </p> + <p> + A tremendous cheer from the brigade, and the colonel charged at the head + of his column, out by Death’s Alley. + </p> + <p> + The broken wall was melting away into the night. The colonel wheeled his + men to the right: one company, led by the impetuous young Captain Jullien, + followed the flying enemy. + </p> + <p> + The other attack had been only too successful. They shot the sentries, and + bayoneted many of the soldiers in their tents: others escaped by running + to the rear, and some into the next parallel. + </p> + <p> + Several, half dressed, snatched up their muskets, killed one Prussian, and + fell riddled like sieves. + </p> + <p> + A gallant officer got a company together into the place of arms and formed + in line. + </p> + <p> + Half the Prussian force went at them, the rest swept the trenches: the + French company delivered a deadly volley, and the next moment clash the + two forces crossed bayonets, and a silent deadly stabbing match was + played: the final result of which was inevitable. The Prussians were five + to one. The gallant officer and the poor fellows who did their duty so + stoutly, had no thought left but to die hard, when suddenly a roaring + cheer seemed to come from the rear rank of the enemy. “France! France!” + Half the 24th brigade came leaping and swarming over the trenches in the + Prussian rear. The Prussians wavered. “France!” cried the little party + that were being overpowered, and charged in their turn with such fury that + in two seconds the two French corps went through the enemy’s centre like + paper, and their very bayonets clashed together in more than one Prussian + body. + </p> + <p> + Broken thus in two fragments the Prussian corps ceased to exist as a + military force. The men fled each his own way back to the fort, and many + flung away their muskets, for French soldiers were swarming in from all + quarters. At this moment, bang! bang! bang! from the bastion. + </p> + <p> + “They are firing on my brigade,” said our colonel. “Who has led his + company there against my orders? Captain Neville, into the battery, and + fire twenty rounds at the bastion! Aim at the flashes from their middle + tier.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, colonel.” + </p> + <p> + The battery opened with all its guns on the bastion. The right attack + followed suit. The town answered, and a furious cannonade roared and + blazed all down both lines till daybreak. Hell seemed broken loose. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jullien had followed the flying foe: but could not come up with + them: and, as the enemy had prepared for every contingency, the fatal + bastion, after first throwing a rocket or two to discover their position, + poured showers of grape into them, killed many, and would have killed more + but that Captain Neville and his gunners happened by mere accident to + dismount one gun and to kill a couple of gunners at the others. This gave + the remains of the company time to disperse and run back. When the men + were mustered, Captain Jullien and twenty-five of his company did not + answer to their names. At daybreak they were visible from the trenches + lying all by themselves within eighty yards of the bastion. + </p> + <p> + A flag of truce came from the fort: the dead were removed on both sides + and buried. Some Prussian officers strolled into the French lines. + Civilities and cigars exchanged: “Bon jour,” “Gooten daeg:” then at it + again, ding dong all down the line blazing and roaring. + </p> + <p> + At twelve o’clock the besieged had got a man on horseback, on top of a + hill, with colored flags in his hand, making signals. + </p> + <p> + “What are you up to now?” inquired Dard. + </p> + <p> + “You will see,” said La Croix, affecting mystery; he knew no more than the + other. + </p> + <p> + Presently off went Long Tom on the top of the bastion, and the shot came + roaring over the heads of the speakers. + </p> + <p> + The flags were changed, and off went Long Tom again at an elevation. + </p> + <p> + Ten seconds had scarcely elapsed when a tremendous explosion took place on + the French right. Long Tom was throwing red-hot shot; one had fallen on a + powder wagon, and blown it to pieces, and killed two poor fellows and a + horse, and turned an artillery man at some distance into a seeming nigger, + but did him no great harm; only took him three days to get the powder out + of his clothes with pipe clay, and off his face with raw potato-peel. + </p> + <p> + When the tumbril exploded, the Prussians could be heard to cheer, and they + turned to and fired every iron spout they owned. Long Tom worked all day. + </p> + <p> + They got into a corner where the guns of the battery could not hit them or + him, and there was his long muzzle looking towards the sky, and sending + half a hundredweight of iron up into the clouds, and plunging down a mile + off into the French lines. + </p> + <p> + And, at every shot, the man on horseback made signals to let the gunners + know where the shot fell. + </p> + <p> + At last, about four in the afternoon, they threw a forty-eight-pound shot + slap into the commander-in-chief’s tent, a mile and a half behind + trenches. + </p> + <p> + Down comes a glittering aide-de-camp as hard as he can gallop. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Dujardin, what are you about, sir? YOUR BASTION has thrown a + round shot into the commander-in-chief’s tent.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel did not appear so staggered as the aide-de-camp expected. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed!” said he quietly. “I observed they were trying distances.” + </p> + <p> + “Must not happen again, colonel. You must drive them from the gun.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, where is the difficulty?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will do me the honor to step into the battery, I will show you,” + said the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” said the aide-de-camp stiffly. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin took him to the parapet, and began, in a calm, + painstaking way, to show him how and why none of his guns could be brought + to bear upon Long Tom. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of the explanation a melodious sound was heard in the air + above them, like a swarm of Brobdingnag bees. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” inquired the aide-de-camp. + </p> + <p> + “What? I see nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “That humming noise.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that? Prussian bullets. Ah, by-the-by, it is a compliment to your + uniform, monsieur; they take you for some one of importance. Well, as I + was observing”— + </p> + <p> + “Your explanation is sufficient, colonel; let us get out of this. Ha, ha! + you are a cool hand, colonel, I must say. But your battery is a warm place + enough: I shall report it so at headquarters.” + </p> + <p> + The grim colonel relaxed. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” said he politely, “you shall not have ridden to my post in + vain. Will you lend me your horse for ten minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; and I will inspect your trenches meantime.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so; oblige me by avoiding that angle; it is exposed, and the enemy + have got the range to an inch.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin slipped into his quarters; off with his half-dress jacket + and his dirty boots, and presently out he came full fig, glittering + brighter than the other, with one French and two foreign orders shining on + his breast, mounted the aide-de-camp’s horse, and away full pelt. + </p> + <p> + Admitted, after some delay, into the generalissimo’s tent, Dujardin found + the old gentleman surrounded by his staff and wroth: nor was the danger to + which he had been exposed his sole cause of ire. + </p> + <p> + The shot had burst through his canvas, struck a table on which was a large + inkstand, and had squirted the whole contents over the despatches he was + writing for Paris. + </p> + <p> + Now this old gentleman prided himself upon the neatness of his despatches: + a blot on his paper darkened his soul. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin expressed his profound regret. The commander, however, + continued to remonstrate. “I have a great deal of writing to do,” said he, + “as you must be aware; and, when I am writing, I expect to be quiet.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin assented respectfully to the justice of this. He then + explained at full length why he could not bring a gun in the battery to + silence “Long Tom,” and quietly asked to be permitted to run a gun out of + the trenches, and take a shot at the offender. + </p> + <p> + “It is a point-blank distance, and I have a new gun, with which a man + ought to be able to hit his own ball at three hundred yards.” + </p> + <p> + The commander hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot have the men exposed.” + </p> + <p> + “I engage not to lose a man—except him who fires the gun. HE must + take his chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, colonel, it must be done by volunteers. The men must not be ORDERED + out on such a service as that.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin bowed, and retired. + </p> + <p> + “Volunteers to go out of the trenches!” cried Sergeant La Croix, in a + stentorian voice, standing erect as a poker, and swelling with importance. + </p> + <p> + There were fifty offers in less than as many seconds. + </p> + <p> + “Only twelve allowed to go,” said the sergeant; “and I am one,” added he, + adroitly inserting himself. + </p> + <p> + A gun was taken down, placed on a carriage, and posted near Death’s Alley, + but out of the line of fire. + </p> + <p> + The colonel himself superintended the loading of this gun; and to the + surprise of the men had the shot weighed first, and then weighed out the + powder himself. + </p> + <p> + He then waited quietly a long time till the bastion pitched one of its + periodical shots into Death’s Alley, but no sooner had the shot struck, + and sent the sand flying past the two lanes of curious noses, than Colonel + Dujardin jumped upon the gun and waved his cocked hat. At this + preconcerted signal, his battery opened fire on the bastion, and the + battery to his right opened on the wall that fronted them; and the colonel + gave the word to run the gun out of the trenches. They ran it out into the + cloud of smoke their own guns were belching forth, unseen by the enemy; + but they had no sooner twisted it into the line of Long Tom, than the + smoke was gone, and there they were, a fair mark. + </p> + <p> + “Back into the trenches, all but one!” roared Dujardin. + </p> + <p> + And in they ran like rabbits. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! the elevation.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin and La Croix raised the muzzle to the mark—hoo, + hoo, hoo! ping, ping, ping! came the bullets about their ears. + </p> + <p> + “Away with you!” cried the colonel, taking the linstock from him. + </p> + <p> + Then Colonel Dujardin, fifteen yards from the trenches, in full blazing + uniform, showed two armies what one intrepid soldier can do. He kneeled + down and adjusted his gun, just as he would have done in a practising + ground. He had a pot shot to take, and a pot shot he would take. He + ignored three hundred muskets that were levelled at him. He looked along + his gun, adjusted it, and re-adjusted it to a hair’s breadth. The enemy’s + bullets pattered upon it: still he adjusted it delicately. His men were + groaning and tearing their hair inside at his danger. + </p> + <p> + At last it was levelled to his mind, and then his movements were as quick + as they had hitherto been slow. In a moment he stood erect in the + half-fencing attitude of a gunner, and his linstock at the touch-hole: a + huge tongue of flame, a volume of smoke, a roar, and the iron thunderbolt + was on its way, and the colonel walked haughtily but rapidly back to the + trenches; for in all this no bravado. He was there to make a shot; not to + throw a chance of life away watching the effect. + </p> + <p> + Ten thousand eyes did that for him. + </p> + <p> + Both French and Prussians risked their own lives craning out to see what a + colonel in full uniform was doing under fire from a whole line of forts, + and what would be his fate; but when he fired the gun their curiosity left + the man and followed the iron thunderbolt. + </p> + <p> + For two seconds all was uncertain; the ball was travelling. + </p> + <p> + Tom gave a rear like a wild horse, his protruding muzzle went up sky-high, + then was seen no more, and a ring of old iron and a clatter of fragments + was heard on the top of the bastion. Long Tom was dismounted. Oh! the roar + of laughter and triumph from one end to another of the trenches; and the + clapping of forty thousand hands that went on for full five minutes; then + the Prussians, either through a burst of generous praise for an act so + chivalrous and so brilliant, or because they would not be crowed over, + clapped their tea thousand hands as loudly, and thus thundering, + heart-thrilling salvo of applause answered salvo on both sides that + terrible arena. + </p> + <p> + That evening came a courteous and flattering message from the + commander-in-chief to Colonel Dujardin; and several officers visited his + quarters to look at him; they went back disappointed. The cry was, “What a + miserable, melancholy dog! I expected to see a fine, dashing fellow.” + </p> + <p> + The trenches neared the town. Colonel Dujardin’s mine was far advanced; + the end of the chamber was within a few yards of the bastion. Of late, the + colonel had often visited this mine in person. He seemed a little uneasy + about something in that quarter; but no one knew what: he was a silent + man. The third evening, after he dismounted Long Tom, he received private + notice that an order was coming down from the commander-in-chief to + assault the bastion. He shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing. That + same night the colonel and one of his lieutenants stole out of the + trenches, and by the help of a pitch-dark, windy night, got under the + bastion unperceived, and crept round it, and made their observations, and + got safe back. About noon down came General Raimbaut. + </p> + <p> + “Well, colonel, you are to have your way at last. Your bastion is to be + stormed this afternoon previous to the general assault. Why, how is this? + you don’t seem enchanted?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it was you who pressed for the assault.” + </p> + <p> + “At the right time, general, not the wrong. In five days I undertake to + blow that bastion into the air. To assault it now would be to waste our + men.” + </p> + <p> + General Raimbaut thought this excess of caution a great piece of + perversity in Achilles. They were alone, and he said a little peevishly,— + </p> + <p> + “Is not this to blow hot and cold on the same thing?” + </p> + <p> + “No, general,” was the calm reply. “Not on the same thing. I blew hot upon + timorous counsels; I blow cold on rash ones. General, last night + Lieutenant Fleming and I were under that bastion; and all round it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my prudent colonel, I thought we should not talk long without your + coming out in your true light. If ever a man secretly enjoyed risking his + life, it is you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, general,” said Dujardin looking gloomily down; “I enjoy neither that + nor anything else. Live or die, it is all one to me; but to the lives of + my soldiers I am not indifferent, and never will be while I live. My + apparent rashness of last night was pure prudence.” + </p> + <p> + Raimbaut’s eye twinkled with suppressed irony. “No doubt!” said he; “no + doubt!” + </p> + <p> + The impassive colonel would not notice the other’s irony; he went calmly + on:— + </p> + <p> + “I suspected something; I went to confute, or confirm that suspicion. I + confirmed it.” + </p> + <p> + Rat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! was heard a drum. Relieving guard in + the mine. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin interrupted himself. + </p> + <p> + “That comes apropos,” said he. “I expect one proof more from that quarter. + Sergeant, send me the sentinel they are relieving.” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant La Croix soon came back, as pompous as a hen with one chick, + predominating with a grand military air over a droll figure that chattered + with cold, and held its musket in hands clothed in great mittens. Dard. + </p> + <p> + La Croix marched him up as if he had been a file; halted him like a file, + sang out to him as to a file, stentorian and unintelligible, after the + manner of sergeants. + </p> + <p> + “Private No. 4.” + </p> + <p> + DARD. P-p-p-present! + </p> + <p> + LA CROIX. Advance to the word of command, and speak to the colonel. + </p> + <p> + The shivering figure became an upright statue directly, and carried one of + his mittens to his forehead. Then, suddenly recognizing the rank of the + gray-haired officer, he was morally shaken, but remained physically erect, + and stammered,— + </p> + <p> + “Colonel!—general!—colonel!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be frightened, my lad. But look at the general and answer me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! general! colonel!” and he levelled his eye dead at the general, as + he would a bayonet at a foe, being so commanded. + </p> + <p> + “Now answer in as few syllables as you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! general—colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been on guard in the mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, general.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you see there?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; it was night down there.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Cold! I—was—in—water—hugh!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear nothing, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Bum! bum! bum!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you did not hear particles of earth fall at the end of the + trench?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it did, and this (touching his musket) sounded of its own + accord.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! you have answered well; go.” + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant, I did not miss a word,” cried Dard, exulting. He thought he had + passed a sort of military college examination. The sergeant was awe-struck + and disgusted at his familiarity, speaking to him before the great: he + pushed Private Dard hastily out of the presence, and bundled him into the + trenches. + </p> + <p> + “Are you countermined, then?” asked General Raimbaut. + </p> + <p> + “I think not, general; but the whole bastion is. And we found it had been + opened in the rear, and lately half a dozen broad roads cut through the + masonry.” + </p> + <p> + “To let in re-enforcements?” + </p> + <p> + “Or to let the men run out in ease of an assault. I have seen from the + first an able hand behind that part of the defences. If we assault the + bastion, they will pick off as many of us as they can with their muskets + then they will run for it, and fire a train, and blow it and us into the + air.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, this is serious. Are you prepared to lay this statement before + the commander-in-chief?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, and I do so through you, the general of my division. I even beg you + to say, as from me, that the assault will be mere suicide—bloody and + useless.” + </p> + <p> + General Raimbaut went off to headquarters in some haste, a thorough + convert to Colonel Dujardin’s opinion. Meantime the colonel went slowly to + his tent. At the mouth of it a corporal, who was also his body-servant, + met him, saluted, and asked respectfully if there were any orders. + </p> + <p> + “A few minutes’ repose, Francois, that is all. Do not let me be disturbed + for an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Attention!” cried Francois. “Colonel wants to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + The tent was sentinelled, and Dujardin was alone with the past. + </p> + <p> + Then had the fools, that took (as fools will do) deep sorrow for + sullenness, seen the fiery soldier droop, and his wan face fall into + haggard lines, and his martial figure shrink, and heard his stout heart + sigh! He took a letter from his bosom: it was almost worn to pieces. He + had read it a thousand times, yet he read it again. A part of the sweet + sad words ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + “We must bow. We can never be happy together on earth; let us make Heaven + our friend. This is still left us,—not to blush for our love; to do + our duty, and to die.” + </p> + <p> + “How tender, but how firm,” thought Camille. “I might agitate, taunt, + grieve her I love, but I could not shake her. No! God and the saints to my + aid! they saved me from a crime I now shudder at. And they have given me + the good chaplain: he prays with me, he weeps for me. His prayers still my + beating heart. Yes, poor suffering angel! I read your will in these + tender, but bitter, words: you prefer duty to love. And one day you will + forget me; not yet awhile, but it will be so. It wounds me when I think of + it, but I must bow. Your will is sacred. I must rise to your level, not + drag you to mine.” + </p> + <p> + Then the soldier that had stood between two armies in a hail of bullets, + and fired a master-shot, took a little book of offices in one hand,—the + chaplain had given it him,—and fixed his eyes upon the pious words, + and clung like a child to the pious words, and kissed his lost wife’s + letter, and tried hard to be like her he loved: patient, very patient, + till the end should come. + </p> + <p> + “Qui vive?” cried the sentinel outside to a strange officer. + </p> + <p> + “France,” was his reply. He then asked the sentinel, “Where is the colonel + commanding the brigade?” + </p> + <p> + The sentinel lowered his voice, “Asleep, my officer,” said he; for the + new-comer carried two epaulets. + </p> + <p> + “Wake him,” said the officer in a tone of a man used to command on a large + scale. + </p> + <p> + Dujardin heard, and did not choose a stranger should think he was asleep + in broad day. He came hastily out of the tent, therefore, with Josephine’s + letter in his hand, and, in the very act of conveying it to his bosom, + found himself face to face with—her husband. + </p> + <p> + Did you ever see two duellists cross rapiers? + </p> + <p> + How unlike a theatrical duel! How smooth and quiet the bright blades are! + they glide into contact. They are polished and slippery, yet they hold + each other. So these two men’s eyes met, and fastened: neither spoke: each + searched the other’s face keenly. Raynal’s countenance, prepared as he was + for this meeting, was like a stern statue’s. The other’s face flushed, and + his heart raged and sickened at sight of the man, that, once his comrade + and benefactor, was now possessor of the woman he loved. But the figures + of both stood alike haughty, erect, and immovable, face to face. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Raynal saluted Colonel Dujardin ceremoniously. Colonel Dujardin + returned the salute in the same style. + </p> + <p> + “You thought I was in Egypt,” said Raynal with grim significance that + caught Dujardin’s attention, though he did not know quite how to interpret + it. + </p> + <p> + He answered mechanically, “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sent here by General Bonaparte to take a command,” explained Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome. What command?” + </p> + <p> + “Yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine?” cried Dujardin, his forehead flushing with mortification and + anger. “What, is it not enough that you take my”—He stopped then. + </p> + <p> + “Come, colonel,” said the other calmly, “do not be unjust to an old + comrade. I take your demi-brigade; but you are promoted to Raimbaut’s + brigade. The exchange is to be made to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it then to announce to me my promotion you came to my quarters?” and + Camille looked with a strange mixture of feelings at his old comrade. + </p> + <p> + “That was the first thing, being duty, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What? have you anything else to say to me, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it important? for my own duties will soon demand me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so important that, command or no command, I should have come + further than the Rhine to say it to you.” + </p> + <p> + Let a man be as bold as a lion, a certain awe still waits upon doubt and + mystery; and some of this vague awe crept over Camille Dujardin at + Raynal’s mysterious speech, and his grave, quiet, significant manner. + </p> + <p> + Had he discovered something, and what? For Josephine’s sake, more than his + own, Camille was on his guard directly. + </p> + <p> + Raynal looked at him in silence a moment. + </p> + <p> + “What?” said he with a slight sneer, “has it never occurred to you that I + MUST have a serious word to say to you? First, let me put you a question: + did they treat you well at my house? at the chateau de Beaurepaire?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” faltered Camille. + </p> + <p> + “You met, I trust, all the kindness and care due to a wounded soldier and + an officer of merit. It would annoy me greatly if I thought you were not + treated like a brother in my house.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin writhed inwardly at this view of matters. He could not + reply in few words. This made him hesitate. + </p> + <p> + His inquisitor waited, but, receiving no reply, went on, “Well, colonel, + have you shown the sense of gratitude we had a right to look for in + return? In a word, when you left Beaurepaire, had your conscience nothing + to reproach you with?” + </p> + <p> + Dujardin still hesitated. He scarcely knew what to think or what to say. + But he thought to himself, “Who has told him? does he know all?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Dujardin, I am the husband of Josephine, the son of Madame de + Beaurepaire, and the brother of Rose. You know very well what brings me + here. Your answer?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Raynal, between men of honor, placed as you and I are, few words + should pass, for words are idle. You will never prove to me that I have + wronged you: I shall never convince you that I have not. Let us therefore + close this painful interview in the way it is sure to close. I am at your + service, at any hour and place you please.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray is that all the answer you can think of?” asked Raynal somewhat + scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what other answer can I give you?” + </p> + <p> + “A more sensible, a more honest, and a less boyish one. Who doubts that + you can fight, you silly fellow? haven’t I seen you? I want you to show me + a much higher sort of courage: the courage to repair a wrong, not the + paltry valor to defend one.” + </p> + <p> + “I really do not understand you, sir. How can I undo what is done?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course you cannot. And therefore I stand here ready to forgive + all that is past; not without a struggle, which you don’t seem to + appreciate.” + </p> + <p> + Camille was now utterly mystified. Raynal continued, “But of course it is + upon condition that you consent to heal the wound you have made. If you + refuse—hum! but you will not refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it you require of me?” inquired Camille impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Only a little common honesty. This is the case: you have seduced a young + lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” cried Camille angrily. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter? The word is not so bad as the crime, I take it. You + have seduced her, and under circumstances—But we won’t speak of + them, because I am resolved to keep cool. Well, sir, as you said just now, + it’s no use crying over spilled milk; you can’t unseduce the little fool; + so you must marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “M—m—marry her?” and Dujardin flushed all over, and his heart + beat, and he stared in Raynal’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter again? If she has played the fool, it was with + you, and no other man: it is not as if she was depraved. Come, my lad, + show a little generosity! Take the consequences of your own act—or + your share of it—don’t throw it all on the poor feeble woman. If she + has loved you too much, you are the man of all others that should forgive + her. Come, what do you say?” + </p> + <p> + This was too much for Camille; that Raynal should come and demand of him + to marry his own wife, for so he understood the proposal. He stared at + Raynal in silence ever so long, and even when he spoke it was only to + mutter, “Are you out of your senses, or am I?” + </p> + <p> + At this it cost Raynal a considerable effort to restrain his wrath. + However, he showed himself worthy of the office he had undertaken. He + contained himself, and submitted to argue the matter. “Why, colonel,” said + he, “is it such a misfortune to marry poor Rose? She is young, she is + lovely, she has many good qualities, and she would have walked straight to + the end of her days but for you.” + </p> + <p> + Now here was another surprise for Dujardin, another mystification. + </p> + <p> + “Rose de Beaurepaire?” said he, putting his hand to his head, as if to see + whether his reason was still there. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Rose de Beaurepaire—Rose Dujardin that ought to be, and that + is to be, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “One word, monsieur: is it of Rose we have been talking all this time?” + </p> + <p> + Raynal nearly lost his temper at this question, and the cold, contemptuous + tone with which it was put; but he gulped down his ire. + </p> + <p> + “It is,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “One question more. Did she tell you I had—I had”— + </p> + <p> + “Why, as to that, she was in no condition to deny she had fallen, poor + girl; the evidence was too strong. She did not reveal her seducer’s name; + but I had not far to go for that.” + </p> + <p> + “One question more,” said Dujardin, with a face of anguish. “Is it Jos—is + it Madame Raynal’s wish I should marry her sister?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” said Raynal, in all sincerity, assuming that naturally + enough as a matter of course; “if you have any respect for HER feelings, + look on me as her envoy in this matter.” + </p> + <p> + At this Camille turned sick with disgust; then rage and bitterness swelled + his heart. A furious impulse seized him to expose Josephine on the spot. + He overcame that, however, and merely said, “She wishes me to marry her + sister, does she? very well then, I decline.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal was shocked. “Oh,” said he, sorrowfully, “I cannot believe this of + you; such heartlessness as this is not written in your face; it is + contradicted by your past actions.” + </p> + <p> + “I refuse,” said Dujardin, hastily; and to tell the truth, not sorry to + inflict some pain on the honest soldier who had unintentionally driven the + iron so deep into his own soul. + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Raynal, losing his temper, “insist, in the name of my dear + Josephine”— + </p> + <p> + “Perdition!” snarled Dujardin, losing his self-command in turn. + </p> + <p> + “And of the whole family.” + </p> + <p> + “And I tell you I will never marry her. Upon my honor, never.” + </p> + <p> + “Your honor! you have none. The only question is would you rather marry + her—or die.” + </p> + <p> + “Die, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then die you shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Dujardin; “did I not tell you we were wasting time? + </p> + <p> + “Let us waste no more then. WHEN and WHERE?” + </p> + <p> + “At the rear of the commander-in-chief’s tent; when you like.” + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon, then—at five.” + </p> + <p> + “At five.” + </p> + <p> + “Seconds?” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. They are only in the way of men who carry sabres; and + besides the less gossip the better. Good-by, till five,” and the two + saluted one another with grim ceremony; and Raynal turned on his heel. + </p> + <p> + Camille stood transfixed; a fierce, guilty joy throbbed in his heart. His + rival had quarrelled with him, had insulted him, had challenged him. It + was not his fault. The sun shone bright now upon his cold despair. An hour + ago life offered nothing. A few hours more, and then joy beyond + expression, or an end of all. Death or Josephine! Then he remembered that + this very Josephine wished to marry him to Rose. Then he remembered Raynal + had saved his life. Cold chills crossed his breaking heart. Of all that + could happen to him death alone seemed a blessing without alloy. + </p> + <p> + He stood there so torn with conflicting passions, that he noted neither + the passing hours nor the flying bullets. + </p> + <p> + He was only awakened from his miserable trance by the even tread of + soldiers marching towards him; he looked up and there were several + officers coming along the edge of the trench, escorted by a corporal’s + guard. + </p> + <p> + He took a step or two to meet them. After the usual salutes, one of the + three colonels delivered a large paper, with a large seal, to Dujardin. He + read it out to his captains and lieutenants, who had assembled at sight of + the cocked hats and full uniforms. + </p> + <p> + “Attack by the army to-morrow upon all the lines. Attack of the bastion + St. Andre this evening. The 22d, the 24th, and 12th brigades will furnish + the contingents; the operation will be conducted by one of the colonels of + the second division, to be appointed by General Raimbaut.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” sounded a voice like a trombone at the reader’s elbow. “I am just + in the nick of time. When, colonel, when?” + </p> + <p> + “At five this evening, Colonel Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “There,” said Raynal, in a half-whisper, to Dujardin; “could they choose + no hour but that?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be uneasy,” replied Dujardin, under his breath. He explained aloud—“the + assault will not take place, gentlemen; the bastion is mined.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that? half of them are mined. We will take our engineers in with + us,” said Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “Such an assault will be a useless massacre,” resumed Dujardin. “I + reconnoitred the bastion last night, and saw their preparations for + blowing us to the devil; and General Raimbaut, at my request, is even now + presenting my remarks to the commander-in-chief, and enforcing them. There + will be no assault. In a day or two we shall blow the bastion, mines, and + all into the air.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Raynal caught sight of a gray-haired officer coming at some + distance. “There IS General Raimbaut,” said he. “I will go and pay my + respects to him.” General Raimbaut shook his hand warmly, and welcomed him + to the army. They were old and warm friends. “And you are come at the + right time,” said he. “It will soon be as hot here as in Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal laughed and said all the better. + </p> + <p> + General Raimbaut now joined the group of officers, and entered at once in + the business which had brought him. Addressing himself to Colonel + Dujardin, first he informs that officer he had presented his observations + to the commander-in-chief, who had given them the attention they merited. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin bowed. + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued General Raimbaut, “they are overruled by imperious + circumstances, some of which he did not reveal; they remain in his own + breast. However, on the eve of a general attack, which he cannot postpone, + that bastion must be disarmed, otherwise it would be too fatal to all the + storming parties. It is a painful necessity.” He added, “Tell Colonel + Dujardin I count greatly on the courage and discipline of his brigade, and + on his own wise measures.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin bowed. Then he whispered in the other’s ear, “Both will + alike be wasted.” + </p> + <p> + The other colonels waved their hats in triumph at the commander-in-chief’s + decision, and Raynal’s face showed he looked on Dujardin as a sort of + spoil-sport happily defeated. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, gentlemen,” said General Raimbaut, “we begin by settling the + contingents to be furnished by your several brigades. Say, an equal number + from each. The sum total shall be settled by Colonel Dujardin, who has so + long and ably baffled the bastion at this post.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin bowed stiffly and not very graciously. In his heart he + despised these old fogies, compounds of timidity and rashness. + </p> + <p> + “So, how many men in all, colonel?” asked General Raimbaut. + </p> + <p> + “The fewer the better,” replied the other solemnly, “since”—and then + discipline tied his tongue. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you,” said the old man. “Shall we say eight hundred men?” + </p> + <p> + “I should prefer three hundred. They have made a back door to the bastion, + and the means of flight at hand will put flight into their heads. They + will pick off some of our men as we go at them. When the rest jump in they + will jump out, and”—He paused. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he knows all about it before it comes,” said one of the colonels + naively. + </p> + <p> + “I do. I see the whole operation and its result before me, as I see this + hand. Three hundred men will do.” + </p> + <p> + “But, general,” objected Raynal, “you are not beginning at the beginning. + The first thing in these cases is to choose the officer to command the + storming party.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Raynal, unquestionably; but you must be aware that is a painful and + embarrassing part of my duty, especially after Colonel Dujardin’s + remarks.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bah!” cried Raynal. “He is prejudiced. He has been digging a + thundering long mine here, and now you are going to make his child + useless. We none of us like that. But when he gets the colors in his hand, + and the storming column at his back, his misgivings will all go to the + wind, and the enemy after them, unless he has been committing some crime, + and is very much changed from what I knew him four years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Raynal,” said one of the other colonels, politely but firmly, + “pray do not assume that Colonel Dujardin is to lead the column; there are + three other claimants. General Raimbaut is to select from us four.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, gentlemen, and in a service of this kind I would feel grateful to + you all if you would relieve me of that painful duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said Dujardin, with an imperceptible sneer, “the general + means to say this: the operation is so glorious that he could hardly + without partiality assign the command to either of us four claimants. + Well, then, let us cast lots.” + </p> + <p> + The proposal was received by acclamation. + </p> + <p> + “The general will mark a black cross on one lot, and he who draws it wins + the command.” + </p> + <p> + The young colonels prepared their lots with almost boyish eagerness. These + fiery spirits were sick to death of lying and skulking in the trenches. + They flung their lots into the hat. After them, who should approach the + hat, lot in hand, but Raynal. Dujardin instantly interfered, and held his + arm as he was in the act of dropping in his lot. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said Raynal, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “This is our affair, Colonel Raynal. You have no command in this army.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, sir, I have yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Not till to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you would not take such a pettifogging advantage of an old comrade + as that.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him the day ends at twelve o’clock,” said one of the colonels + interested by this strange strife. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Raynal, triumphantly; “but no,” said he, altering his tone, + “let us leave that sort of argument to lawyers. I have come a good many + miles to fight with you, general; and now you must decide to pay me this + little compliment on my arrival, or put a bitter affront on me—choose!” + </p> + <p> + While the old general hesitated, Camille replied, “Since you take that + tone there can be but one answer. You are too great a credit to the French + army for even an apparent slight to be put on you here. The rule, I think, + is, that one of the privates shall hold the hat.—Hallo! Private + Dard, come here—there—hold this hat.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, colonel.—Lord, here is my young mistress’s husband!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” + </p> + <p> + And they began to draw, and, in the act of drawing, a change of manner was + first visible in these gay and ardent spirits. + </p> + <p> + “It is not I,” said one, throwing away his lot. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I.” + </p> + <p> + “It is I,” said Raynal; then with sudden gravity, “I am the lucky one.” + </p> + <p> + And now that the honor and the danger no longer floated vaguely over four + heads, but had fixed on one, a sudden silence and solemnity took the place + of eager voices. + </p> + <p> + It was first broken by Private Dard saying, with foolish triumph, “And I + held the hat for you, colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Raynal!” said General Raimbaut, sorrowfully, “it was not worth while + to come from Egypt for this.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal made no reply to this. He drew out his watch, and said calmly, he + had no time to lose; he must inspect the detachments he was to command. + “Besides,” said he, “I have some domestic arrangements to make. Hitherto + on these occasions I was a bachelor, now I am married.” General Raimbaut + could not help sighing. Raynal read this aright, and turned to him, “A + droll marriage, my old friend; I’ll tell you all about it if ever I have + the time. It began with a purchase, general, and ends with—with a + bequest, which I might as well write now, and so have nothing to think of + but duty afterwards. Where can I write?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Dujardin will lend you his tent, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “And, messieurs,” said Raynal, “if I waste time you need not. You can pick + me my men from your brigades. Give me a strong spice of old hands.” + </p> + <p> + The colonels withdrew on this, and General Raimbaut walked sadly and + thoughtfully towards the battery. Dujardin and Raynal were left alone. + </p> + <p> + “This postpones our affair, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you writing materials in your tent?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; on the table.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure the bastion is mined, comrade?” + </p> + <p> + This unexpected word and Raynal’s gentle appeal touched Dujardin deeply. + It was in a broken voice he replied that he was unfortunately too sure of + it. + </p> + <p> + Raynal received this reply as a sentence of death, and without another + word walked slowly into Dujardin’s tent. + </p> + <p> + Dujardin’s generosity was up in arms; he followed Raynal, and said + eagerly, “Raynal, for Heaven’s sake resign this command!” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to write to my wife, colonel,” was the cold reply. + </p> + <p> + Camille winced at this affront, and drew back a moment; but his nobler + part prevailed. He seized Raynal by the wrist. “You shall not affront me, + you cannot affront me. You go to certain death I tell you, if you attack + that bastion.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be a fool, colonel,” said Raynal: “somebody must lead the men.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but not you. Who has so good a right to lead them as I, their + colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “And be killed in my place, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I know the ground better than you,” said Camille. “Besides, who cares for + me? I have no friends, no family. But you are married—and so many + will mourn if you”— + </p> + <p> + Raynal interrupted him sternly. “You forget, sir, that Rose de Beaurepaire + is my sister, when you tell me you have no tie to life.” He added, with + wonderful dignity and sobriety, “Allow me to write to my wife, sir; and, + while I write, reflect that you can embitter an old comrade’s last moments + by persisting in your refusal to restore his sister the honor you have + robbed her of.” + </p> + <p> + And leaving the other staggered and confused by this sudden blow, he + retired into Dujardin’s tent, and finding writing materials on a little + table that was there, sat down to pen a line to Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Camille knew to whom he was writing, and a jealous pang passed through + him. + </p> + <p> + What he wrote ran thus,— + </p> + <p> + “A bastion is to be attacked at five. I command. Colonel Dujardin proposed + we should draw lots, and I lost. The service is honorable, but the result + may, I fear, give you some pain. My dear wife, it is our fate. I was not + to have time to make you know, and perhaps love me. God bless you.” + </p> + <p> + In writing these simple words, Raynal’s hard face worked, and his mustache + quivered, and once he had to clear his eye with his hand to form the + letters. He, the man of iron. + </p> + <p> + He who stood there, leaning on his scabbard and watching the writer, saw + this, and it stirred all that was great and good in that grand though + passionate heart of his. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Raynal!” thought he, “you were never like that before on going into + action. He is loath to die. Ay, and it is a coward’s trick to let him die. + I shall have her, but shall I have her esteem? What will the army say? + What will my conscience say? Oh! I feel already it will gnaw my heart to + death; the ghost of that brave fellow—once my dear friend, my rival + now, by no fault of his—will rise between her and me, and reproach + me with my bloody inheritance. The heart never deceives; I feel it now + whispering in my ear: ‘Skulking captain, white-livered soldier, that stand + behind a parapet while a better man does your work! you assassinate the + husband, but the rival conquers you.’ There, he puts his hand to his eyes. + What shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” said a low voice, and at the same time a hand was laid on his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + It was General Raimbaut. The general looked pale and distressed. + </p> + <p> + “Come apart, colonel, for Heaven’s sake! One word, while he is writing. + Ah! that was an unlucky idea of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Of mine, general?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas you proposed to cast lots.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! so it was.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought of course it was to be managed so that Raynal should not be the + one. Between ourselves, what honorable excuse can we make?” + </p> + <p> + “None, general.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole division will be disgraced, and forgive me if I say a portion + of the discredit will fall on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Help me to avert that shame then,” cried Camille, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that I will: but how?” + </p> + <p> + “Take your pencil and write—‘I authorize Colonel Dujardin to save + the honor of the colonels of the second division.’” + </p> + <p> + The general hesitated. He had never seen an order so worded. But at last + he took out his pencil and wrote the required order, after his own + fashion; i.e., in milk and water:— + </p> + <p> + On account of the singular ability and courage with which Colonel Dujardin + has conducted the operations against the Bastion St. Andre, a + discretionary power is given him at the moment of assault to carry into + effect such measures, as, without interfering with the + commander-in-chief’s order, may sustain his own credit, and that of the + other colonels of the second division. + </p> + <p> + RAIMBAUT, General of Division. + </p> + <p> + Camille put the paper into his bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Now, general, you may leave all to me. I swear to you, Raynal shall not + die—shall not lead this assault.” + </p> + <p> + “Your hand, colonel. You are an honor to the French armies. How will you + do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave it to me, general, it shall be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel it will, my noble fellow: but, alas! I fear not without risking + some valuable life or other, most likely your own. Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “General, I decline.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse me, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; this order gives me a discretionary power. I will hand back the + order at your command; but modify it I will not. Come, sir, you veteran + generals have been unjust to me, and listened to me too little all through + this siege, but at last you have honored me. This order is the greatest + honor that was ever done me since I wore a sword.”. + </p> + <p> + “My poor colonel!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me wear it intact, and carry it to my grave.” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more! One word—Is there anything on earth I can do for you, + my brave soldier?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, general. Be so kind as to retire to your quarters; there are reasons + why you ought not to be near this post in half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I go. Is there NOTHING else?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, general, ask the good priest Ambrose, to pray for all those who + shall die doing their duty to their country this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + They parted. General Raimbaut looked back more than once at the firm, + intrepid figure that stood there unflinching, on the edge of the grave. + But HE never took his eye off Raynal. The next minute the sad letter was + finished, and Raynal walked out of the tent, and confronted the man he had + challenged to single combat. + </p> + <p> + I have mentioned elsewhere that Colonel Dujardin had eyes strangely + compounded of battle and love, of the dove and the hawk. And these, + softened by a noble act he meditated, now rested on Raynal with a strange + expression of warmth and goodness. This strange gaze struck Raynal, so far + at least as this; he saw it was no hostile eye. He was glad of that, for + his own heart was calmed and softened by the solemn prospect before him. + </p> + <p> + “We, too, have a little account to settle before I order out the men,” + said he, calmly, “and I can’t give you a long credit. I am pressed for + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Our quarrel is at an end. When duty sounds the recall, a soldier’s heart + leaves private feuds. See! I come to you without anger and ill-will. Just + now my voice was loud, my manner, I dare say, offensive, and menacing + even, and that always tempts a brave fellow like you to resist. But now, + you see, I am harmless as a woman. We are alone. Humbug to the winds! I + know that you are the only man in this army fit to command a division. I + know that when you say the assault of that bastion is death, death it is. + To the point then; now that my manner is no longer irritating, now that I + am going to die, Camille Dujardin, my old comrade, have you the heart to + refuse me? am I to die unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “No; no: I will do whatever you like.” + </p> + <p> + “You will marry that poor girl, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! did not I always say he was a good fellow? Clench the nail; give me + your honor.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my honor to marry her, if I live.” + </p> + <p> + “You take a load off me; may Heaven reward you. In one hour those poor + women, whose support I had promised to be, will lose their protector; but + I give them another in you. We shall not leave that family in tears, Rose + in shame, and your child without a name.” + </p> + <p> + Dujardin stared at the speaker. What new and devilish deception was this? + </p> + <p> + “My child!” he faltered. “What child?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Raynal, “what a fool I was! That is the first thing I ought to + have told you. Poor little fellow! I surprised him in his cradle; his + mother and Josephine were rocking him, and singing over him. Oh! it was a + scene, I can tell you. My poor wife had been ill for some time, and was so + weakened by it, that I frightened her into a fit, stealing a march on her + that way. She fainted away. Perhaps it is as well she did; for I—I + did not know what to think; it looked ugly; but while she lay at our feet + insensible, I forced the truth from Rose; she owned the boy was hers.” + </p> + <p> + While Raynal told him this strange story, Camille turned hot and cold. + First came a thrill of glowing joy; he had some clew to all this: he was a + father; that child was Josephine’s and his; the next moment he froze + within. So Josephine had not only gulled her husband, but him, too; she + had refused him the sad consolation of knowing he had a child. Cruelty, + calculation, and baseness unexampled! Here was a creature who could + sacrifice anything and anybody to her comfort, to the peace and sordid + smoothness of her domestic life. She stood between two men—a thing. + Between two truths—a double lie. + </p> + <p> + His heart, in one moment, turned against her like a stone. A musket-bullet + through the body does not turn life to death quicker than Raynal turned + his rival’s love to despair and scorn: that love which neither wounds, + absence, prison, nor even her want of constancy had prevailed to shake. + </p> + <p> + “Out of my bosom!” he cried—“out of it, in this world and the next!” + </p> + <p> + He forgot, in his lofty rage, who stood beside him. + </p> + <p> + “What?—what?” cried Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” said Camille; “only I esteem YOU, Raynal. You are truth; you + are a man, and deserve a better lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say that,” replied Raynal, quite misunderstanding him. “It is a + soldier’s end: I never desired nor hoped a better: only, of course, I feel + sad. You are a happy fellow, to have a child and to live to see it, and + her you love.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I am very happy,” replied the poor fellow, his lip quivering. + </p> + <p> + “Watch over all those poor women, comrade, and sometimes speak to them of + me. It is foolish, but we like to be remembered.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! but do not let us speak of that. Raynal, you and I were lieutenants + together; do you remember saving my life in the Arno?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then promise me, if you should live, to remember not our quarrel of + to-day, nor anything; but only those early days, AND THIS AFTERNOON.” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Your hand, comrade.” + </p> + <p> + “There, comrade, there.” + </p> + <p> + They wrung one another’s hands, and turned away and hid their faces from + each other, for their eyes were moist. + </p> + <p> + “This won’t do, comrade, I must go. I shall attack from your position. So + I shall go down the line, and bring the men up. Meantime, pick me your + detachment. Give me a good spice of veterans. I shall get one word with + you before we go out. God bless you!” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Raynal!” + </p> + <p> + The moment Raynal was gone, Camille beckoned a lieutenant to him, and + ordered half the brigade to form in a strong column on both sides Death’s + Alley. + </p> + <p> + His eye fell upon private Dard, as luck would have it. “Come here,” said + he. Dard came and saluted. + </p> + <p> + “Have you anybody at Beaurepaire that would be sorry if you were killed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, colonel! Jacintha, that used to make your broth, colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Take this line to Colonel Raynal. You will find him with the 12th + brigade.” + </p> + <p> + He wrote a few lines in pencil, folded them, and Dard went off with them, + little dreaming that the colonel of his brigade was taking the trouble to + save his life, because he came from Beaurepaire. Colonel Dujardin then + went into his tent, and closed the aperture, and took the good book the + priest had given him, and prayed humbly, and forgave all the world. + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down, his head in his hands, and thought of his child, and how + hard it was he must die and never see him. Then he lighted a candle, and + sealed up his orders of valor, and wrote a line, begging that they might + be sent to his sister. He also sealed up his purse, and left a memorandum + that the contents should be given to disabled soldiers of his brigade upon + their being invalided. + </p> + <p> + Then he took out Josephine’s letter. “Poor coward,” he said, “let me not + be unkind. See, I burn your letter, lest it should be found, and disturb + the peace you prize so highly. I, too, shall soon be at peace.” He lighted + the letter, and dropped it on the ground: it burned slowly away. He eyed + it, despairingly. “Ay,” said he, “you perish, last record of an unhappy + love: and even so pass away my life; my hopes of glory, and my dreams of + love; it all ends to-day: at nine and twenty.” + </p> + <p> + He put his white handkerchief to his eyes. Josephine had given it him. He + cried a little. + </p> + <p> + When he had done crying, he put his white handkerchief in his bosom, and + the whole man was transformed beyond language to express. Powder does not + change more when it catches fire. He rose that moment and went like a + flash of lightning out of the tent. The next, he came down between the + lines of the strong column that stood awaiting orders in Death’s Alley. + </p> + <p> + “Attention!” cried the sergeants; “the colonel!” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence, for the bare sight of that erect and inspired + figure made the men’s bosoms thrill with the certainty of great deeds to + come: the light of battle was in his eye. No longer the moody colonel, but + a thunderbolt of war, red-hot, and waiting to be launched. + </p> + <p> + “Officers, sergeants, soldiers, a word with you!” + </p> + <p> + La Croix. Attention! + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what passed here five minutes ago?” + </p> + <p> + “The attack of the bastion was settled!” cried a captain. + </p> + <p> + “It was; and who was to lead the assault? do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “A colonel FROM EGYPT.” + </p> + <p> + At that there was a groan from the men. + </p> + <p> + “With detachments from the other brigades.” + </p> + <p> + “AH!” an angry roar. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Dujardin walked quickly down between the two lines, looking with + his fiery eye into the men’s eyes on his right. Then he came back on the + other side, and, as he went, he lighted those men’s eyes with his own. It + was a torch passing along a line of ready gas-lights. + </p> + <p> + “The work to us!” he cried in a voice like a clarion (it fired the hearts + as his eye had fired the eyes)—“The triumph to strangers! Our + fatigues and our losses have not gained the brigade the honor of going out + at those fellows that have killed so many of our comrades.” + </p> + <p> + A fierce groan broke from the men. + </p> + <p> + “What! shall the colors of another brigade and not ours fly from that + bastion this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” in a roar like thunder. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are of my mind. Attention! the attack is fixed for five o’clock. + Suppose you and I were to carry the bastion ten minutes before the colonel + from Egypt can bring his men upon the ground.” + </p> + <p> + At this there was a fierce burst of joy and laughter; the strange laughter + of veterans and born invincibles. Then a yell of exulting assent, + accompanied by the thunder of impatient drums, and the rattle of fixing + bayonets. + </p> + <p> + The colonel told off a party to the battery. + </p> + <p> + “Level the guns at the top tier. Fire at my signal, and keep firing over + our heads, till you see our colors on the place.” + </p> + <p> + He then darted to the head of the column, which instantly formed behind + him in the centre of Death’s Alley. + </p> + <p> + “The colors! No hand but mine shall hold them to-day.” + </p> + <p> + They were instantly brought him: his left hand shook them free in the + afternoon sun. + </p> + <p> + A deep murmur of joy rolled out from the old hands at the now unwonted + sight. Out flashed the colonel’s sword like steel lightning. He pointed to + the battery. + </p> + <p> + Bang! bang! bang! bang! went his cannon, and the smoke rolled over the + trenches. At the same moment up went the colors waving, and the colonel’s + clarion voice pealed high above all:— + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-fourth brigade—FORWARD!” + </p> + <p> + They went so swiftly out of the trenches that they were not seen through + their own smoke until they had run some sixty yards. As soon as they were + seen, coming on like devils through their own smoke, two thousand muskets + were levelled at them from the Prussian line. It was not a rattle of small + arms—it was a crash, and the men fell fast: but in a moment they + were seen to spread out like a fan, and to offer less mark, and when the + fan closed again, it half encircled the bastion. It was a French attack: + part swarmed at it in front like bees, part swept round the glacis and + flanked it. They were seen to fall in numbers, shot down from the + embrasures. But the living took the place of the dead: and the fight + ranged evenly there. Where are the colors? Towards the rear there. The + colonel and a hundred men are fighting hand to hand with the Prussians, + who have charged out at the back doors of the bastion. Success there, and + the bastion must fall—both sides know this. + </p> + <p> + The colors disappeared. There was a groan from the French lines. The + colors reappeared, and close under the bastion. + </p> + <p> + And now in front the attack was so hot, that often the Prussian gunners + were seen to jump down, driven from their posts; and the next moment a + fierce hurrah from the rear told that the French had won some great + advantage there. The fire slackening told a similar tale and presently + down came the Prussian flag-staff. That might be an accident. A few + moments of thirsting expectation, and up went the colors of the 24th + brigade upon the Bastion St. Andre. + </p> + <p> + The French army raised a shout that rent the sky, and their cannon began + to play on the Prussian lines and between the bastion and the nearest + fort, to prevent a recapture. + </p> + <p> + Sudden there shot from the bastion a cubic acre of fire: it carried up a + heavy mountain of red and black smoke that looked solid as marble. There + was a heavy, sullen, tremendous explosion that snuffed out the sound of + the cannon, and paralyzed the French and Prussian gunners’ hands, and + checked the very beating of their hearts. Thirty thousand pounds of + gunpowder were in that awful explosion. War itself held its breath, and + both armies, like peaceable spectators, gazed wonder-struck, + terror-struck. Great hell seemed to burst through the earth’s crust, and + to be rushing at heaven. Huge stones, cannons, corpses, and limbs of + soldiers, were seen driven or falling through the smoke. Some of these + last came quite clear of the ruins, ay, into the French and Prussian + lines, that even the veterans put their hands to their eyes. Raynal felt + something patter on him from the sky—it was blood—a comrade’s + perhaps. + </p> + <p> + The smoke cleared. Where, a moment before, the great bastion stood and + fought, was a monstrous pile of blackened, bloody stones and timbers, with + dismounted cannon sticking up here and there. + </p> + <p> + And, rent and crushed to atoms beneath the smoking mass, lay the relics of + the gallant brigade, and their victorious colors. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. + </h2> + <p> + A few wounded soldiers of the brigade lay still till dusk. Then they crept + back to the trenches. These had all been struck down or disabled short of + the bastion. Of those that had taken the place no one came home. + </p> + <p> + Raynal, after the first stupefaction, pressed hard and even angrily for an + immediate assault on the whole Prussian line. Not they. It was on paper + that the assault should be at daybreak to-morrow. Such leaders as they + were cannot IMPROVISE. + </p> + <p> + Rage and grief in his heart, Raynal waited chafing in the trenches till + five minutes past midnight. He then became commander of the brigade, gave + his orders, and took thirty men out to creep up to the wreck of the + bastion, and find the late colonel’s body. + </p> + <p> + Going for so pious a purpose, he was rewarded by an important discovery. + The whole Prussian lines had been abandoned since sunset, and, mounting + cautiously on the ramparts, Raynal saw the town too was evacuated, and + lights and other indications on a rising ground behind it convinced him + that the Prussians were in full retreat, probably to effect that junction + with other forces which the assault he had recommended would have rendered + impossible. + </p> + <p> + They now lighted lanterns, and searched all over and round the bastion for + the poor colonel, in the rear of the bastion they found many French + soldiers, most of whom had died by the bayonet. The Prussian dead had all + been carried off. + </p> + <p> + Here they found the talkative Sergeant La Croix. The poor fellow was + silent enough now. A terrible sabre-cut on the skull. The colonel was not + there. Raynal groaned, and led the way on to the bastion. The ruins still + smoked. Seven or eight bodies were discovered by an arm or a foot + protruding through the masses of masonry. Of these some were Prussians; a + proof that some devoted hand had fired the train, and destroyed both + friend and foe. + </p> + <p> + They found the tube of Long Tom sticking up, just as he had shown over the + battlements that glorious day, with this exception, that a great piece was + knocked off his lip, and the slice ended in a long, broad crack. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers looked at this. “That is our bullet’s work,” said they. Then + one old veteran touched his cap, and told Raynal gravely, he knew where + their beloved colonel was. “Dig here, to the bottom,” said he. “HE LIES + BENEATH HIS WORK.” + </p> + <p> + Improbable and superstitious as this was, the hearts of the soldiers + assented to it. + </p> + <p> + Presently there was a joyful cry outside the bastion. A rush was made + thither. But it proved to be only Dard, who had discovered that Sergeant + La Croix’s heart still beat. They took him up carefully, and carried him + gently into camp. To Dard’s delight the surgeon pronounced him curable. + For all that, he was three days insensible, and after that unfit for duty. + So they sent him home invalided, with a hundred francs out of the poor + colonel’s purse. + </p> + <p> + Raynal reported the evacuation of the place, and that Colonel Dujardin was + buried under the bastion, and soon after rode out of the camp. + </p> + <p> + The words Camille had scratched with a pencil, and sent him from the edge + of the grave, were few but striking. + </p> + <p> + “A dead man takes you once more by the hand. My last thought, thank God, + is France. For her sake and mine, Raynal. GO FOR GENERAL BONAPARTE. Tell + him, from a dying soldier, the Rhine is a river to these generals, but to + him a field of glory. He will lay out our lives, not waste them.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to hinder Raynal from carrying out this sacred request: + for the 24th brigade had ceased to exist: already thinned by hard service, + it was reduced to a file or two by the fatal bastion. It was incorporated + with the 12th; and Raynal rode heavy at heart to Paris, with a black scarf + across his breast. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. + </h2> + <p> + You see now into what a fatal entanglement two high-minded young ladies + were led, step by step, through yielding to the natural foible of their + sex—the desire to hide everything painful from those they love, even + at the expense of truth. + </p> + <p> + A nice mess they made of it with their amiable dishonesty. And pray take + notice that after the first White Lie or two, circumstances overpowered + them, and drove them on against their will. It was no small part of all + their misery that they longed to get back to truth and could not. + </p> + <p> + We shall see presently how far they succeeded in that pious object, for + the sake of which they first entered on concealments. But first a word is + due about one of the victims of their amiable, self-sacrificing lubricity. + Edouard Riviere fell in one night, from happiness and confidence, such as + till that night he had never enjoyed, to deep and hopeless misery. + </p> + <p> + He lost that which, to every heart capable of really loving, is the + greatest earthly blessing, the woman he adored. But worse than that, he + lost those prime treasures of the masculine soul, belief in human + goodness, and in female purity. To him no more could there be in nature a + candid eye, a virtuous ready-mantling cheek: for frailty and treachery had + put on these signs of virtue and nobility. Henceforth, let him live a + hundred years, whom could he trust or believe in? + </p> + <p> + Here was a creature whose virtues seemed to make frailty impossible: + treachery, doubly impossible: a creature whose very faults—for + faults she had—had seemed as opposite to treachery as her very + virtues were. Yet she was all frailty and falsehood. + </p> + <p> + He passed in that one night of anguish from youth to age. He went about + his business like a leaden thing. His food turned tasteless. His life + seemed ended. Nothing appeared what it had been. The very landscape seemed + cut in stone, and he a stone in the middle of it, and his heart a stone in + him. At times, across that heavy heart came gushes of furious rage and + bitter mortification; his heart was broken, and his faith was gone, for + his vanity had been stabbed as fiercely as his love. “Georges Dandin!” he + would cry, “curse her! curse her!” But love and misery overpowered these + heats, and froze him to stone again. + </p> + <p> + The poor boy pined and pined. His clothes hung loose about him; his face + was so drawn with suffering, you would not have known him. He hated + company. The things he was expected to talk about!—he with his + crushed heart. He could not. He would not. He shunned all the world; he + went alone like a wounded deer. The good doctor, on his return from Paris, + called on him to see if he was ill: since he had not come for days to the + chateau. He saw the doctor coming and bade the servant say he was not in + the village. + </p> + <p> + He drew down the blind, that he might never see the chateau again. He drew + it up again: he could not exist without seeing it. “She will be miserable, + too,” he cried, gnashing his teeth. “She will see whether she has chosen + well.” At other times, all his courage, and his hatred, and his wounded + vanity, were drowned in his love and its despair, and then he bowed his + head, and sobbed and cried as if his heart would burst. One morning he was + so sobbing with his head on the table, when his landlady tapped at his + door. He started up and turned his head away from the door. + </p> + <p> + “A young woman from Beaurepaire, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “From Beaurepaire?” his heart gave a furious leap. “Show her in.” + </p> + <p> + He wiped his eyes and seated himself at a table, and, all in a flutter, + pretended to be the state’s. + </p> + <p> + It was not Jacintha, as he expected, but the other servant. She made a low + reverence, cast a look of admiration on him, and gave him a letter. His + eye darted on it: his hand trembled as he took it. He turned away again to + open it. He forced himself to say, in a tolerably calm voice, “I will send + an answer.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was apparently from the baroness de Beaurepaire; a mere line + inviting him to pay her a visit. It was written in a tremulous hand. + Edouard examined the writing, and saw directly it was written by Rose. + </p> + <p> + Being now, naturally enough, full of suspicion, he set this down as an + attempt to disguise her hand. “So,” said he, to himself, “this is the + game. The old woman is to be drawn into it, too. She is to help to make + Georges Dandin of me. I will go. I will baffle them all. I will expose + this nest of depravity, all ceremony on the surface, and voluptuousness + and treachery below. O God! who could believe that creature never loved + me! They shall none of them see my weakness. Their benefactor shall be + still their superior. They shall see me cold as ice, and bitter as gall.” + </p> + <p> + But to follow him farther just now, would be to run too far in advance of + the main story. I must, therefore, return to Beaurepaire, and show, + amongst other things, how this very letter came to be written. + </p> + <p> + When Josephine and Rose awoke from that startled slumber that followed the + exhaustion of that troubled night, Rose was the more wretched of the two. + She had not only dishonored herself, but stabbed the man she loved. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, on the other hand, was exhausted, but calm. The fearful escape + she had had softened down by contrast her more distant terrors. + </p> + <p> + She began to shut her eyes again, and let herself drift. Above all, the + doctor’s promise comforted her: that she should go to Paris with him, and + have her boy. + </p> + <p> + This deceitful calm of the heart lasted three days. + </p> + <p> + Carefully encouraged by Rose, it was destroyed by Jacintha. + </p> + <p> + Jacintha, conscious that she had betrayed her trust, was almost + heart-broken. She was ashamed to appear before her young mistress, and, + coward-like, wanted to avoid knowing even how much harm she had done. + </p> + <p> + She pretended toothache, bound up her face, and never stirred from the + kitchen. But she was not to escape: the other servant came down with a + message: “Madame Raynal wanted to see her directly.” + </p> + <p> + She came quaking, and found Josephine all alone. + </p> + <p> + Josephine rose to meet her, and casting a furtive glance round the room + first, threw her arms round Jacintha’s neck, and embraced her with many + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Was ever fidelity like yours? how COULD you do it, Jacintha? and how can + I ever repay it? But, no; it is too base of me to accept such a sacrifice + from any woman.” + </p> + <p> + Jacintha was so confounded she did not know what to say. But it was a + mystification that could not endure long between two women, who were both + deceived by a third. Between them they soon discovered that it must have + been Rose who had sacrificed herself. + </p> + <p> + “And Edouard has never been here since,” said Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “And never will, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he shall! there must be some limit even to my feebleness, and my + sister’s devotion. You shall take a line to him from me. I will write it + this moment.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was written. But it was never sent. Rose found Josephine and + Jacintha together; saw a letter was being written, asked to see it; on + Josephine’s hesitating, snatched it out of her hand, read it, tore it to + pieces, and told Jacintha to leave the room. She hated the sight of poor + Jacintha, who had slept at the very moment when all depended on her + watchfulness. + </p> + <p> + “So you were going to send to HIM, unknown to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, Rose.” Rose burst out crying. + </p> + <p> + “O Josephine! is it come to this? Would you deceive ME?” + </p> + <p> + “You have deceived ME! Yes! it has come to that. I know all. Twill not + consent to destroy ALL I love.” + </p> + <p> + She then begged hard for leave to send the letter. + </p> + <p> + Rose gave an impetuous refusal. “What could you say to him? foolish thing, + don’t you know him, and his vanity? When you had exposed yourself to him, + and showed him I had insulted him for you, do you think he would forgive + me? No! this is to make light of my love—to make me waste the + sacrifice I have made. I feel that sacrifice as much as you do, more + perhaps, and I would rather die in a convent than waste that night of + shame and agony. Come, promise me, no more attempts of that kind, or we + are sisters no more, friends no more, one heart and one blood no more.” + </p> + <p> + The weaker nature, weakened still more by ill-health and grief, was + terrified into submission, or rather temporized. “Kiss me then,” said + Josephine, “and love me to the end. Ah, if I was only in my grave!” + </p> + <p> + Rose kissed her with many sighs, but Josephine smiled. Rose eyed her with + suspicion. That deep smile; what did it mean? She had formed some + resolution. “She is going to deceive me somehow,” thought Rose. + </p> + <p> + From that day she watched Josephine like a spy. Confidence was gone + between them. Suspicion took its place. + </p> + <p> + Rose was right in her misgivings. The moment Josephine saw that Edouard’s + happiness and Rose’s were to be sacrificed for her whom nothing could make + happy, the poor thing said to herself, “I CAN DIE.” + </p> + <p> + And that was the happy thought that made her smile. + </p> + <p> + The doctor gave her laudanum: he found she could not sleep: and he thought + it all-important that she should sleep. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, instead of taking these small doses, saved them all up, + secreted them in a phial, and so, from the sleep of a dozen nights, + collected the sleep of death: and now she was tranquil. This young + creature that could not bear to give pain to any one else, prepared her + own death with a calm resolution the heroes of our sex have not often + equalled. It was so little a thing to her to strike Josephine. Death would + save her honor, would spare her the frightful alternative of deceiving her + husband, or of telling him she was another’s. “Poor Raynal,” said she to + herself, “it is so cruel to tie him to a woman who can never be to him + what he deserves. Rose would then prove her innocence to Edouard. A few + tears for a weak, loving soul, and they would all be happy and forget + her.” + </p> + <p> + One day the baroness, finding herself alone with Rose and Dr. Aubertin, + asked the latter what he thought of Josephine’s state. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she was better: had slept last night without her usual narcotic.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness laid down her knitting and said, with much meaning, “And I + tell you, you will never cure her body till you can cure her mind. My poor + child has some secret sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow!” said Aubertin, stoutly concealing the uneasiness these words + created, “what sorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she has some deep sorrow. And so have you, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, mamma! what DO you mean?” + </p> + <p> + The baroness’s pale cheek flushed a little. “I mean,” said she, “that my + patience is worn out at last; I cannot live surrounded by secrets. + Raynal’s gloomy looks when he left us, after staying but one hour; + Josephine ill from that day, and bursting into tears at every word; + yourself pale and changed, hiding an unaccountable sadness under forced + smiles—Now, don’t interrupt me. Edouard, who was almost like a son, + gone off, without a word, and never comes near us now.” + </p> + <p> + “Really you are ingenious in tormenting yourself. Josephine is ill! Well, + is it so very strange? Have you never been ill? Rose is pale! you ARE + pale, my dear; but she has nursed her sister for a month; is it a wonder + she has lost color? Edouard is gone a journey, to inherit his uncle’s + property: a million francs. But don’t you go and fall ill, like Josephine; + turn pale, like Rose; and make journeys in the region of fancy, after + Edouard Riviere, who is tramping along on the vulgar high road.” + </p> + <p> + This tirade came from Aubertin, and very clever he thought himself. But he + had to do with a shrewd old lady, whose suspicions had long smouldered; + and now burst out. She said quietly, “Oh, then Edouard is not in this part + of the world. That alters the case: where IS he?” + </p> + <p> + “In Normandy, probably,” said Rose, blushing. + </p> + <p> + The baroness looked inquiringly towards Aubertin. He put on an innocent + face and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the baroness. “It’s plain I am to learn nothing from you + two. But I know somebody who will be more communicative. Yes: this + uncomfortable smiling, and unreasonable crying, and interminable + whispering; these appearances of the absent, and disappearances of the + present; I shall know this very day what they all mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind; I am an old woman, and I am in my dotage. For all that, + perhaps you will allow me two words alone with my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “I retire, madame,” and he disappeared with a bow to her, and an anxious + look at Rose. She did not need this; she clenched her teeth, and braced + herself up to stand a severe interrogatory. + </p> + <p> + Mother and daughter looked at one another, as if to measure forces, and + then, instead of questioning her as she had intended, the baroness sank + back in her chair and wept aloud. Rose was all unprepared for this. She + almost screamed in a voice of agony, “O mamma! mamma! O God! kill me where + I stand for making my mother weep!” + </p> + <p> + “My girl,” said the baroness in a broken voice, and with the most touching + dignity, “may you never know what a mother feels who finds herself shut + out from her daughters’ hearts. Sometimes I think it is my fault; I was + born in a severer age. A mother nowadays seems to be a sort of elder + sister. In my day she was something more. Yet I loved my mother as well, + or better than I did my sisters. But it is not so with those I have borne + in my bosom, and nursed upon my knee.” + </p> + <p> + At this Rose flung herself, sobbing and screaming, at her mother’s knees. + The baroness was alarmed. “Come, dearest, don’t cry like that. It is not + too late to take your poor old mother into your confidence. What is this + mystery? and why this sorrow? How comes it I intercept at every instant + glances that were not intended for me? Why is the very air loaded with + signals and secrecy? (Rose replied only by sobs.) Is some deceit going on? + (Rose sobbed.) Am I to have no reply but these sullen sobs? will you + really tell me nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve nothing to tell,” sobbed Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, will you do something for me?” + </p> + <p> + Such a proposal was not only a relief, but a delight to the deceiving but + loving daughter. She started up crying, “Oh, yes, mamma; anything, + everything. Oh, thank you!” In the ardor of her gratitude, she wanted to + kiss her mother; but the baroness declined the embrace politely, and said, + coldly and bitterly, “I shall not ask much; I should not venture now to + draw largely on your affection; it’s only to write a few lines for me.” + </p> + <p> + Rose got paper and ink with great alacrity, and sat down all beaming, pen + in hand. + </p> + <p> + The baroness dictated the letter slowly, with an eye gimleting her + daughter all the time. + </p> + <p> + “Dear—Monsieur—Riviere.” + </p> + <p> + The pen fell from Rose’s hand, and she turned red and then pale. + </p> + <p> + “What! write to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in your own name; in mine. But perhaps you prefer to give me the + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Cruel! cruel!” sighed Rose, and wrote the words as requested. + </p> + <p> + The baroness dictated again,— + </p> + <p> + “Oblige me by coming here at your very earliest convenience.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mamma, if he is in Normandy,” remonstrated Rose, fighting every inch + of the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind where he is,” said the baroness. “Write as I request.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mamma,” said Rose with sudden alacrity; for she had recovered her + ready wit, and was prepared to write anything, being now fully resolved + the letter should never go. + </p> + <p> + “Now sign my name.” Rose complied. “There; now fold it, and address it to + his lodgings.” Rose did so; and, rising with a cheerful air, said she + would send Jacintha with it directly. + </p> + <p> + She was half across the room when her mother called her quietly back. + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle,” said she sternly. “You will give me the letter. I can + trust neither the friend of twenty years, nor the servant that stayed by + me in adversity, nor the daughter I suffered for and nursed. And why don’t + I trust you? Because YOU HAVE TOLD ME A LIE.” + </p> + <p> + At this word, which in its coarsest form she had never heard from those + high-born lips till then, Rose cowered like a hare. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, A LIE,” said the baroness. “I saw Edouard Riviere in the park but + yesterday. I saw him. My old eyes are feeble, but they are not deceitful. + I saw him. Send my breakfast to my own room. I come of an ancient race: I + could not sit with liars; I should forget courtesy; you would see in my + face how thoroughly I scorn you all.” And she went haughtily out with the + letter in her hand. + </p> + <p> + Rose for the first time, was prostrated. Vain had been all this deceit; + her mother was not happy; was not blinded. Edouard might come and tell her + his story. Then no power could keep Josephine silent. The plot was + thickening; the fatal net was drawing closer and closer. + </p> + <p> + She sank with a groan into a chair, and body and spirit alike succumbed. + But that was only for a little while. To this prostration succeeded a + feverish excitement. She could not, would not, look Edouard in the face. + She would implore Josephine to be silent; and she herself would fly from + the chateau. But, if Josephine would not be silent? Why, then she would go + herself to Edouard, and throw herself upon his honor, and tell him the + truth. With this, she ran wildly up the stairs, and burst into Josephine’s + room so suddenly, that she caught her, pale as death, on her knees, with a + letter in one hand and a phial of laudanum in the other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. + </h2> + <p> + Josephine conveyed the phial into her bosom with wonderful rapidity and + dexterity, and rose to her feet. But Rose just saw her conceal something, + and resolved to find out quietly what it was. So she said nothing about + it, but asked Josephine what on earth she was doing. + </p> + <p> + “I was praying.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that letter?” + </p> + <p> + “A letter I have just received from Colonel Raynal.” + </p> + <p> + Rose took the letter and read it. Raynal had written from Paris. He was + coming to Beaurepaire to stay a month, and was to arrive that very day. + </p> + <p> + Then Rose forgot all about herself, and even what she had come for. She + clung about her sister’s neck, and implored her, for her sake, to try and + love Raynal. + </p> + <p> + Josephine shuddered, and clung weeping to her sister in turn. For in + Rose’s arms she realized more powerfully what that sister would suffer if + she were to die. Now, while they clung together, Rose felt something hard, + and contrived just to feel it with her cheek. It was the phial. + </p> + <p> + A chill suspicion crossed the poor girl. The attitude in which she had + found Josephine; the letter, the look of despair, and now this little + bottle, which she had hidden. WHY HIDE IT? She resolved not to let + Josephine out of her sight; at all events, until she had seen this little + bottle, and got it away from her. + </p> + <p> + She helped her to dress, and breakfasted with her in the tapestried room, + and dissembled, and put on gayety, and made light of everything but + Josephine’s health. + </p> + <p> + Her efforts were not quite in vain. Josephine became more composed; and + Rose even drew from her a half promise that she would give Raynal and time + a fair trial. + </p> + <p> + And now Rose was relieved of her immediate apprehensions for Josephine, + but the danger of another kind, from Edouard, remained. So she ran into + her bedroom for her bonnet and shawl, determined to take the strong + measure of visiting Edouard at once, or intercepting him. While she was + making her little toilet, she heard her mother’s voice in the room. This + was unlucky; she must pass through that room to go out. She sat down and + fretted at this delay. And then, as the baroness appeared to be very + animated, Rose went to the keyhole, and listened. Their mother was telling + Josephine how she had questioned Rose, and how Rose had told her an + untruth, and how she had made that young lady write to Edouard, etc.; in + short, the very thing Rose wanted to conceal from Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Rose lost all patience, and determined to fly through the room and out + before anybody could stop her. She heard Jacintha come in with some + message, and thought that would be a good opportunity to slip out + unmolested. So she opened the door softly. Jacintha, it seemed, had been + volunteering some remark that was not well received, for the baroness was + saying, sharply, “Your opinion is not asked. Go down directly, and bring + him up here, to this room.” Jacintha cast a look of dismay at Rose, and + vanished. + </p> + <p> + Rose gathered from that look, as much as from the words, who the visitor + was. She made a dart after Jacintha. But the room was a long one, and the + baroness intercepted her: “No,” said she, gravely, “I cannot spare you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose stood pale and panting, but almost defiant. “Mamma,” said she, “if it + is Monsieur Riviere, I MUST ask your leave to retire. And you have neither + love nor pity, nor respect for me, if you detain me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” was the stern reply, “I FORBID you to move. Be good enough + to sit there;” with which the baroness pointed imperiously to a sofa at + the other side of the room. “Josephine, go to your room.” Josephine + retired, casting more than one anxious glance over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Rose looked this way and that in despair and terror; but ended by sinking, + more dead than alive, into the seat indicated; and even as she drooped, + pale and trembling, on that sofa, Edouard Riviere, worn and agitated, + entered the room, and bowed low to them all, without a word. + </p> + <p> + The baroness looked at him, and then at her daughter, as much as to say, + now I have got you; deceive me now if you can. “Rose, my dear,” said this + terrible old woman, affecting honeyed accents, “don’t you see Monsieur + Riviere?” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl at this challenge rose with difficulty, and courtesied + humbly to Edouard. + </p> + <p> + He bowed to her, and stealing a rapid glance saw her pallor and distress; + and that showed him she was not so hardened as he had thought. + </p> + <p> + “You have not come to see us lately,” said the baroness, quietly, “yet you + have been in the neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + These words puzzled Edouard. Was the old lady all in the dark, then? As a + public man he had already learned to be on his guard; so he stammered out, + “That he had been much occupied with public duties.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Beaurepaire despised this threadbare excuse too much to notice + it at all. She went on as if he had said nothing. “Intimate as you were + with us, you must have some reason for deserting us so suddenly.” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said Edouard, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said Edouard, sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, I cannot. This neglect, succeeding to a somewhat ardent + pursuit of my daughter, is almost an affront. You shall, of course, + withdraw yourself altogether, if you choose. But not without an + explanation. This much is due to me; and, if you are a gentleman, you will + not withhold it from me.” + </p> + <p> + “If he is a gentleman!” cried Rose; “O mamma, do not you affront a + gentleman, who never, never gave you nor me any ground of offence. Why + affront the friends and benefactors we have lost by our own fault?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, it is all your fault,” said the baroness. “I feared as much.” + </p> + <p> + “All my fault, all,” said Rose; then putting her pretty palms together, + and casting a look of abject supplication on Edouard, she murmured, “my + temper!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not you put words into his mouth,” said the shrewd old lady. “Come, + Monsieur Riviere, be a man, and tell me the truth. What has she said to + you? What has she done?” + </p> + <p> + By this time the abject state of terror the high-spirited Rose was in, and + her piteous glances, had so disarmed Edouard, that he had not the heart to + expose her to her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said he, stiffly, taking Rose’s hint, “my temper and + mademoiselle’s could not accord.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, her temper is charming: it is joyous, equal, and gentle.” + </p> + <p> + “You misunderstand me, madame; I do not reproach Mademoiselle Rose. It is + I who am to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “For what?” inquired the baroness dryly. + </p> + <p> + “For not being able to make her love me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that is it! She did not love you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask herself, madame,” said Edouard, bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Rose,” said the baroness, her eye now beginning to twinkle, “were you + really guilty of such a want of discrimination? Didn’t you love monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + Rose flung her arms round her mother’s neck, and said, “No, mamma, I did + not love Monsieur Edouard,” in an exquisite tone of love, that to a female + ear conveyed the exact opposite of the words. + </p> + <p> + But Edouard had not that nice discriminating ear. He sighed deeply, and + the baroness smiled. “You tell me that?” said she, “and you are crying!” + </p> + <p> + “She is crying, madame?” said Edouard, inquiringly, and taking a step + towards them. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you see she is, you foolish boy. Come, I must put an end to this;” + and she rose coolly from her seat, and begging Edouard to forgive her for + leaving him a moment with his deadly enemy, went off with knowing little + nods into Josephine’s room; only, before she entered it, she turned, and + with a maternal smile discharged this word at the pair. + </p> + <p> + “Babies!” + </p> + <p> + But between the alienated lovers was a long distressing silence. Neither + knew what to say; and their situation was intolerable. At last Rose + ventured in a timorous voice to say, “I thank you for your generosity. But + I knew that you would not betray me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your secret is safe for me,” sighed Edouard. “Is there anything else I + can do for you?” + </p> + <p> + Rose shook her head sadly. + </p> + <p> + Edouard moved to the door. + </p> + <p> + Rose bowed her head with a despairing moan. It took him by the heart and + held him. He hesitated, then came towards her. + </p> + <p> + “I see you are sorry for what you have done to me who loved you so; and + you loved me. Oh! yes, do not deny it, Rose; there was a time you loved + me. And that makes it worse: to have given me such sweet hopes, only to + crush both them and me. And is not this cruel of you to weep so and let me + see your penitence—when it is too late?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! how can I help my regrets? I have insulted so good a friend.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sad silence. Then as he looked at her, her looks belied the + charge her own lips had made against herself. + </p> + <p> + A light seemed to burst on Edouard from that high-minded, sorrow-stricken + face. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me it is false!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + She hid her face in her hands—woman’s instinct to avoid being read. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me you were misled then, fascinated, perverted, but that your heart + returned to me. Clear yourself of deliberate deceit, and I will believe + and thank you on my knees.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven have pity on us both!” cried poor Rose. + </p> + <p> + “On us! Thank you for saying on us. See now, you have not gained happiness + by destroying mine. One word—do you love that man?—that + Dujardin?” + </p> + <p> + “You know I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of that; since his life is forfeited; if he escapes my friend + Raynal, he shall not escape me.” + </p> + <p> + Rose uttered a cry of terror. “Hush! not so loud. The life of Camille! Oh! + if he were to die, what would become of—oh, pray do not speak so + loud.” + </p> + <p> + “Own then that you DO love him,” yelled Edouard; “give me truth, if you + have no love to give. Own that you love him, and he shall be safe. It is + myself I will kill, for being such a slave as to love you still.” + </p> + <p> + Rose’s fortitude gave way. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot bear it,” she cried despairingly; “it is beyond my strength; + Edouard, swear to me you will keep what I tell you secret as the grave!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Edouard, all radiant with hope, “I swear.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are under a delirium. I have deceived, but never wronged you; + that unhappy child is not—Hush! HERE SHE COMES.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness came smiling out, and Josephine’s wan, anxious face was seen + behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the baroness, “is the war at an end? What, are we still + silent? Let me try then what I can do. Edouard, lend me your hand.” + </p> + <p> + While Edouard hesitated, Josephine clasped her hands and mutely + supplicated him to consent. Her sad face, and the thought of how often she + had stood his friend, shook his resolution. He held out his hand, but + slowly and reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “There is my hand,” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “And here is mine, mamma,” said Rose, smiling to please her mother. + </p> + <p> + Oh! the mixture of feeling, when her soft warm palm pressed his. How the + delicious sense baffled and mystified the cold judgment. + </p> + <p> + Josephine raised her eyes thankfully to heaven. + </p> + <p> + While the young lovers yet thrilled at each other’s touch, yet could not + look one another in the face, a clatter of horses’ feet was heard. + </p> + <p> + “That is Colonel Raynal,” said Josephine, with unnatural calmness. “I + expected him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness was at the side window in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “It is he!—it is he!” + </p> + <p> + She hurried down to embrace her son. + </p> + <p> + Josephine went without a word to her own room. Rose followed her the next + minute. But in that one minute she worked magic. + </p> + <p> + She glided up to Edouard, and looked him full in the face: not the sad, + depressed, guilty-looking humble Rose of a moment before, but the old + high-spirited, and some what imperious girl. + </p> + <p> + “You have shown yourself noble this day. I am going to trust you as only + the noble are trusted. Stay in the house till I can speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + She was gone, and something leaped within Edouard’s bosom, and a flood of + light seemed to burst in on him. Yet he saw no object clearly: but he saw + light. + </p> + <p> + Rose ran into Josephine’s room, and once more surprised her on her knees, + and in the very act of hiding something in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing, Josephine, on your knees?” said she, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I have a great trial to go through,” was the hesitating answer. + </p> + <p> + Rose said nothing. She turned paler. She is deceiving me, thought she, and + she sat down full of bitterness and terror, and, affecting not to watch + Josephine, watched her. + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell them I am coming, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Josephine, I will not leave you till this terrible meeting is over. + We will encounter him hand in hand, as we used to go when our hearts were + one, and we deceived others, but never each other.” + </p> + <p> + At this tender reproach Josephine fell upon her neck and wept. + </p> + <p> + “I will not deceive you,” she said. “I am worse than the poor doctor + thinks me. My life is but a little candle that a breath may put out any + day.” + </p> + <p> + Rose said nothing, but trembled and watched her keenly. + </p> + <p> + “My little Henri,” said Josephine imploringly, “what would you do with him—if + anything should happen to me?” + </p> + <p> + “What would I do with him? He is mine. I should be his mother. Oh! what + words are these: my heart! my heart!” + </p> + <p> + “No, dearest; some day you will be married, and owe all the mother to your + children; and Henri is not ours only: he belongs to some one I have seemed + unkind to. Perhaps he thinks me heartless. For I am a foolish woman; I + don’t know how to be virtuous, yet show a man my heart. But THEN he will + understand me and forgive me. Rose, love, you will write to him. He will + come to you. You will go together to the place where I shall be sleeping. + You will show him my heart. You will tell him all my long love that lasted + to the end. YOU need not blush to tell him all. I have no right. Then you + will give him his poor Josephine’s boy, and you will say to him, ‘She + never loved but you: she gives you all that is left of her, her child. She + only prays you not to give him a bad mother.’” + </p> + <p> + Poor soul! this was her one bit of little, gentle jealousy; but it made + her eyes stream. She would have put out her hand from the tomb to keep her + boy’s father single all his life. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my Josephine, my darling sister,” cried Rose, “why do you speak of + death? Do you meditate a crime?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but it was on my heart to say it: it has done me good.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, take me to your bosom, my well-beloved, that I may not SEE your + tears.” + </p> + <p> + “There—tears? No, you have lightened my heart. Bless you! bless + you!” + </p> + <p> + The sisters twined their bosoms together in a long, gentle embrace. You + might have taken them for two angels that flowed together in one love, but + for their tears. + </p> + <p> + A deep voice was now heard in the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + Josephine and Rose postponed the inevitable one moment more, by arranging + their hair in the glass: then they opened the door, and entered the + tapestried room. + </p> + <p> + Raynal was sitting on the sofa, the baroness’s hand in his. Edouard was + not there. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Raynal had given him a strange look, and said, “What, you here?” + in a tone of voice that was intolerable. + </p> + <p> + Raynal came to meet the sisters. He saluted Josephine on the brow. + </p> + <p> + “You are pale, wife: and how cold her hand is.” + </p> + <p> + “She has been ill this month past,” said Rose interposing. + </p> + <p> + “You look ill, too, Mademoiselle Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” cried the baroness joyously, “you will revive them both.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal made no reply to that. + </p> + <p> + “How long do you stay this time, a day?” + </p> + <p> + “A month, mother.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor now joined the party, and friendly greetings passed between him + and Raynal. + </p> + <p> + But ere long somehow all became conscious this was not a joyful meeting. + The baroness could not alone sustain the spirits of the party, and soon + even she began to notice that Raynal’s replies were short, and that his + manner was distrait and gloomy. The sisters saw this too, and trembled for + what might be coming. + </p> + <p> + At last Raynal said bluntly, “Josephine, I want to speak to you alone.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness gave the doctor a look, and made an excuse for going + down-stairs to her own room. As she was going Josephine went to her and + said calmly,— + </p> + <p> + “Mother, you have not kissed me to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “There! Bless you, my darling!” + </p> + <p> + Raynal looked at Rose. She saw she must go, but she lingered, and sought + her sister’s eye: it avoided her. At that Rose ran to the doctor, who was + just going out of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! doctor,” she whispered trembling, “don’t go beyond the door. I found + her praying. My mind misgives me. She is going to tell him—or + something worse.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid to say all I dread. She could not be so calm if she meant to + live. Be near! as I shall. She has a phial hid in her bosom.” + </p> + <p> + She left the old man trembling, and went back. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said she to Raynal, “I only came to ask Josephine if she + wants anything.” + </p> + <p> + “No!—yes!—a glass of eau sucree.” + </p> + <p> + Rose mixed it for her. While doing this she noticed that Josephine shunned + her eye, but Raynal gazed gently and with an air of pity on her. + </p> + <p> + She retired slowly into Josephine’s bedroom, but did not quite close the + door. + </p> + <p> + Raynal had something to say so painful that he shrank from plunging into + it. He therefore, like many others, tried to creep into it, beginning with + something else. + </p> + <p> + “Your health,” said he, “alarms me. You seem sad, too. I don’t understand + that. You have no news from the Rhine, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” said Josephine scared. + </p> + <p> + “Do not call me monsieur, nor look so frightened. Call me your friend. I + am your sincere friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; you always were.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You will give me a dearer title before we part this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Josephine in a low whisper, and shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgiven me frightening you so that night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a shock to me, too, I can tell you. I like the boy. She professed + to love him, and, to own the truth, I loathe all treachery and deceit. If + I had done a murder, I would own it. A lie doubles every crime. But I took + heart; we are all selfish, we men; of the two sisters one was all + innocence and good faith; and she was the one I had chosen.” + </p> + <p> + At these words Josephine rose, like a statue moving, and took a phial from + her bosom and poured the contents into the glass. + </p> + <p> + But ere she could drink it, if such was her intention, Raynal, with his + eyes gloomily lowered, said, in a voice full of strange solemnity,— + </p> + <p> + “I went to the army of the Rhine.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine put down the glass directly, though without removing her hand + from it. + </p> + <p> + “I see you understand me, and approve. Yes, I saw that your sister would + be dishonored, and I went to the army and saw her seducer.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw HIM. Oh, I hope you did not go and speak to him of—of + this?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course I did.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine resolved to know the worst at once. “May I ask,” said she, “what + you told him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I told him all I had discovered, and pointed out the course he must + take; he must marry your sister at once. He refused. I challenged him. But + ere we met, I was ordered to lead a forlorn hope against a bastion. Then, + seeing me go to certain death, the noble fellow pitied me. I mean this is + how I understood it all at the time; at any rate, he promised to marry + Rose if he should live.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine put out her hand, and with a horrible smile said, “I thank you; + you have saved the honor of our family;” and with no more ado, she took + the glass in her hand to drink the fatal contents. + </p> + <p> + But Raynal’s reply arrested her hand. He said solemnly, “No, I have not. + Have you no inkling of the terrible truth? Do not fiddle with that glass: + drink it, or leave it alone; for, indeed, I need all your attention.” + </p> + <p> + He took the glass out of her patient hand, and with a furtive look at the + bedroom-door, drew her away to the other end of the room; “and,” said he, + “I could not tell your mother, for she knows nothing of the girl’s folly; + still less Rose, for I see she loves him still, or why is she so pale? + Advise me, now, whilst we are alone. Colonel Dujardin was COMPARATIVELY + indifferent to YOU. Will you undertake the task? A rough soldier like me + is not the person to break the terrible tidings to that poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + “What tidings? You confuse, you perplex me. Oh! what does this horrible + preparation mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It means he will never marry your sister; he will never see her more.” + </p> + <p> + Then Raynal walked the room in great agitation, which at once communicated + itself to his hearer. But the loving heart is ingenious in avoiding its + dire misgivings. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said she; “he told you he would never visit Beaurepaire again. He + was right.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal shook his head sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Josephine, you are far from the truth. I was to attack the bastion. + It was mined by the enemy, and he knew it. He took advantage of my back + being turned. He led his men out of the trenches; he assaulted the bastion + at the head of his brigade. He took it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, it was noble; it was like him.” + </p> + <p> + “The enemy, retiring, blew the bastion into the air, and Dujardin—is + dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” said Josephine, in stupefied tones, as if the word conveyed no + meaning to her mind, benumbed and stunned by the blow. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t speak so loud,” said Raynal; “I hear the poor girl at the door. Ay, + he took my place, and is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Swallowed up in smoke and flames, overwhelmed and crushed under the + ruins.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s whole body gave way, and heaved like a tree falling under the + axe. She sank slowly to her knees, and low moans of agony broke from her + at intervals. “Dead, dead, dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not terrible?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + She did not see him nor hear him, but moaned out wildly, “Dead, dead, + dead!” The bedroom-door was opened. + </p> + <p> + She shrieked with sudden violence, “Dead! ah, pity! the glass! the + composing draught.” She stretched her hands out wildly. Raynal, with a + face full of concern, ran to the table, and got the glass. She crawled on + her knees to meet it; he brought it quickly to her hand. + </p> + <p> + “There, my poor soul!” + </p> + <p> + Even as their hands met, Rose threw herself on the cup, and snatched it + with fury from them both. She was white as ashes, and her eyes, + supernaturally large, glared on Raynal with terror. “Madman!” she cried, + “would you kill her?” + </p> + <p> + He glared back on her: what did this mean? Their eyes were fixed on each + other like combatants for life and death; they did not see that the room + was filling with people, that the doctor was only on the other side of the + table, and that the baroness and Edouard were at the door, and all looking + wonderstruck at this strange sight—Josephine on her knees, and those + two facing each other, white, with dilating eyes, the glass between them. + </p> + <p> + But what was that to the horror, when the next moment the patient + Josephine started to her feet, and, standing in the midst, tore her hair + by handfuls, out of her head. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you snatch the kind poison from me!” + </p> + <p> + “Poison!” + </p> + <p> + “Poison!” + </p> + <p> + “Poison!” cried the others, horror-stricken. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you won’t let me die. Curse you all! curse you! I never had my own + way in anything. I was always a slave and a fool. I have murdered the man + I love—I love. Yes, my husband, do you hear? the man I love.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! daughter, respect my gray hairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Your gray hairs! You are not so old in years as I am in agony. So this is + your love, Rose! Ah, you won’t let me die—won’t you? THEN I’LL DO + WORSE—I’LL TELL.” + </p> + <p> + “He who is dead; you have murdered him amongst you, and I’ll follow him in + spite of you all—he was my betrothed. He struggled wounded, + bleeding, to my feet. He found me married. News came of my husband’s + death; I married my betrothed.” + </p> + <p> + “Married him!” exclaimed the baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my poor mother. And she kissed me so kindly just now—she will + kiss me no more. Oh, I am not ashamed of marrying him. I am only ashamed + of the cowardice that dared not do it in face of all the world. We had + scarce been happy a fortnight, when a letter came from Colonel Raynal. He + was alive. I drove my true husband away, wretch that I was. None but bad + women have an atom of sense. I tried to do my duty to my legal husband. He + was my benefactor. I thought it was my duty. Was it? I don’t know: I have + lost the sense of right and wrong. I turned from a living creature to a + lie. He who had scattered benefits on me and all this house; he whom it + was too little to love; he ought to have been adored: this man came here + one night to wife proud, joyous, and warm-hearted. He found a cradle, and + two women watching it. Now Edouard, now MONSIEUR, do you see that life is + IMPOSSIBLE to me? One bravely accused herself: she was innocent. One + swooned away like a guilty coward.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard uttered an exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Edouard, you shall not be miserable like me; she was guilty. You do + not understand me yet, my poor mother—and she was so happy this + morning—I was the liar, the coward, the double-faced wife, the + miserable mother that denied her child. Now will you let me die? Now do + you see that I can’t and won’t live upon shame and despair? Ah, Monsieur + Raynal, my dear friend, you were always generous: you will pity and kill + me. I have dishonored the name you gave me to keep: I am neither + Beaurepaire nor Raynal. Do pray kill me, monsieur—Jean, do pray + release me from my life!” + </p> + <p> + And she crawled to his knees and embraced them, and kissed his hand, and + pleaded more piteously for death, than others have begged for life. + </p> + <p> + Raynal stood like a rock: he was pale, and drew his breath audibly, but + not a word. Then came a sight scarce less terrible than Josephine’s + despair. The baroness, looking and moving twenty years older than an hour + before, tottered across the room to Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you whom I have called my son, but whom I will never presume so to + call again, I thought I had lived long enough never to have to blush + again. I loved you, monsieur. I prayed every day for you. But she who WAS + my daughter was not of my mind. Monsieur, I have never knelt but to God + and to my king, and I kneel to you: forgive us, sir, forgive us!” + </p> + <p> + She tried to go down on her knees. He raised her with his strong arm, but + he could not speak. She turned on the others. + </p> + <p> + “So this is the secret you were hiding from me! This secret has not killed + you all. Oh! I shall not live under its shame so long as you have. Chateau + of Beaurepaire—nest of treason, ingratitude, and immodesty—I + loathe you as much as once I loved you. I will go and hide my head, and + die elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, madame!” said he, in a voice whose depth and dignity was such that + it seemed impossible to disobey it. “It was sudden—I was shaken—but + I am myself again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, show some pity!” cried Rose. + </p> + <p> + “I shall try to be just.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long, trembling silence; and during that silence and terrible + agitation, one figure stood firm among those quaking, beating hearts, like + a rock with the waves breaking round it—the MAN OF PRINCIPLE among + the creatures of impulse. + </p> + <p> + He raised Josephine from her knees, and placed her all limp and powerless + in an arm-chair. To her frenzy had now succeeded a sickness and feebleness + like unto death. + </p> + <p> + “Widow Dujardin,” said he, in a broken voice, “listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + She moaned a sort of assent. + </p> + <p> + “Your mistake has been not trusting me. I was your friend, and not a + selfish friend. I was not enough in love with you to destroy your + happiness. Besides, I despise that sort of love. If you had told me all, I + would have spared you this misery. By the present law, civil contracts of + marriage can be dissolved by mutual consent.” + </p> + <p> + At this the baroness uttered some sign of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” continued Raynal, sadly, “you are aristocrats, and cannot keep pace + with the times. This very day our mere contract shall be formally + dissolved. Indeed, it ceases to exist since both parties are resolved to + withdraw from it. So, if you married Dujardin in a church, you are Madame + Dujardin at this moment, and his child is legitimate. What does she say?” + </p> + <p> + This question was to Rose, for what Josephine uttered sounded like a mere + articulate moan. But Rose’s quick ear had caught words, and she replied, + all in tears, “My poor sister is blessing you, sir. We all bless you.” + </p> + <p> + “She does not understand my position,” said Raynal. He then walked up to + Josephine, and leaning over her arm, and speaking rather loud, under the + impression that her senses were blunted by grief, he said, “Look here: + Colonel Dujardin, your husband, deliberately, and with his eyes open, + sacrificed his life for me, and for his own heroic sense of honor. Now, it + is my turn. If that hero stood here, and asked me for all the blood in my + body, I would give it him. He is gone; but, dying for me, he has left me + his widow and his child; they remain under my wing. To protect them is my + pride, and my only consolation. I am going to the mayor to annul our + unlucky contract in due form, and make us brother and sister instead. + But,” turning to the baroness, “don’t you think to escape me as your + daughter has done: no, no, old lady, once a mother, always a mother. Stir + from your son’s home if you dare!” + </p> + <p> + And with these words, in speaking which his voice had recovered its iron + firmness, he strode out at the door, superb in manhood and principle, and + every eye turned with wonder and admiration after him. Even when he was + gone they gazed at the door by which a creature so strangely noble had + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The baroness was about to follow him without taking any notice of + Josephine. But Rose caught her by the gown. “O mother, speak to poor + Josephine: bid her live.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness only made a gesture of horror and disgust, and turned her + back on them both. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who had tottered up from her seat at Rose’s words, sank heavily + down again, and murmured, “Ah! the grave holds all that love me now.” + </p> + <p> + Rose ran to her side. “Cruel Josephine! what, do not I love you? Mother, + will you not help me persuade her to live? Oh! if she dies, I will die + too; you will kill both your children.” + </p> + <p> + Stern and indignant as the baroness was, yet these words pierced her + heart. She turned with a piteous, half apologetic air to Edouard and + Aubertin. “Gentlemen,” said she, “she has been foolish, not guilty. Heaven + pardons the best of us. Surely a mother may forgive her child.” And with + this nature conquered utterly; and she held out her arms, wide, wide, as + is a mother’s heart. Her two erring children rushed sobbing violently into + them; and there was not a dry eye in the room for a long time. + </p> + <p> + After this, Josephine’s heart almost ceased to beat. Fear and misgivings, + and the heavy sense of deceit gnawing an honorable heart, were gone. Grief + reigned alone in the pale, listless, bereaved widow. + </p> + <p> + The marriage was annulled before the mayor; and, three days afterwards, + Raynal, by his influence, got the consummated marriage formally allowed in + Paris. + </p> + <p> + With a delicacy for which one would hardly have given him credit, he never + came near Beaurepaire till all this was settled; but he brought the + document from Paris that made Josephine the widow Dujardin, and her boy + the heir of Beaurepaire; and the moment she was really Madame Dujardin he + avoided her no longer; and he became a comfort to her instead of a terror. + </p> + <p> + The dissolution of the marriage was a great tie between them. So much + that, seeing how much she looked up to Raynal, the doctor said one day to + the baroness, “If I know anything of human nature, they will marry again, + provided none of you give her a hint which way her heart is turning.” + </p> + <p> + They, who have habituated themselves to live for others, can suffer as + well as do great things. Josephine kept alive. A passion such as hers, in + a selfish nature, must have killed her. + </p> + <p> + Even as it was, she often said, “It is hard to live.” + </p> + <p> + Then they used to talk to her of her boy. Would she leave him—Camille’s + boy—without a mother? And these words were never spoken to her quite + in vain. + </p> + <p> + Her mother forgave her entirely, and loved her as before. Who could be + angry with her long? The air was no longer heavy with lies. Wretched as + she was, she breathed lighter. Joy and hope were gone. Sorrowful peace was + coming. When the heart comes to this, nothing but Time can cure; but what + will not Time do? What wounds have I seen him heal! His cures are + incredible. + </p> + <p> + The little party sat one day, peaceful, but silent and sad, in the + Pleasaunce, under the great oak. + </p> + <p> + Two soldiers came to the gate. They walked feebly, for one was lame, and + leaned upon the other, who was pale and weak, and leaned upon a stick. + </p> + <p> + “Soldiers,” said Raynal, “and invalided.” + </p> + <p> + “Give them food and wine,” said Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Rose went towards them; but she had scarcely taken three steps ere she + cried out,— + </p> + <p> + “It is Dard! it is poor Dard! Come in, Dard, come in.” + </p> + <p> + Dard limped towards them, leaning upon Sergeant La Croix. A bit of Dard’s + heel had been shot away, and of La Croix’s head. + </p> + <p> + Rose ran to the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Jacintha, bring out a table into the Pleasaunce, and something for two + guests to eat.” + </p> + <p> + The soldiers came slowly to the Pleasaunce, and were welcomed, and invited + to sit down, and received with respect; for France even in that day + honored the humblest of her brave. + </p> + <p> + Soon Jacintha came out with a little round table in her hands, and + affected a composure which was belied by her shaking hands and her glowing + cheek. + </p> + <p> + After a few words of homely welcome—not eloquent, but very sincere—she + went off again with her apron to her eyes. She reappeared with the good + cheer, and served the poor fellows with radiant zeal. + </p> + <p> + “What regiment?” asked Raynal. + </p> + <p> + Dard was about to answer, but his superior stopped him severely; then, + rising with his hand to his forehead, he replied, with pride, + “Twenty-fourth brigade, second company. We were cut up at Philipsburg, and + incorporated with the 12th.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal instantly regretted his question; for Josephine’s eye fixed on + Sergeant La Croix with an expression words cannot paint. Yet she showed + more composure, real or forced, than he expected. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven sends him,” said she. “My friend, tell me, were you—ah!” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Raynal interfered hastily. “Think what you do. He can tell you + nothing but what we know, not so much, in fact, as we know; for, now I + look at him, I think this is the very sergeant we found lying insensible + under the bastion. He must have been struck before the bastion was taken + even.” + </p> + <p> + “I was, colonel, I was. I remember nothing but losing my senses, and + feeling the colors go out of my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “There, you see, he knows nothing,” said Raynal. + </p> + <p> + “It was hot work, colonel, under that bastion, but it was hotter to the + poor fellows that got in. I heard all about it from Private Dard here.” + </p> + <p> + “So, then, it was you who carried the colors?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was struck down with the colors of the brigade in my hand,” cried + La Croix. + </p> + <p> + “See how people blunder about, everything; they told me the colonel + carried the colors.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course he did. You don’t think our colonel, the fighting colonel, + would let me hold the colors of the brigade so long as he was alive. No; + he was struck by a Prussian bullet, and he had just time to hand the + colors to me, and point with his sword to the bastion, and down he went. + It was hot work, I can tell you. I did not hold them long, not thirty + seconds, and if we could know their history, they passed through more + hands than that before they got to the Prussian flag-staff.” + </p> + <p> + Raynal suddenly rose, and walked rapidly to and fro, with his hands behind + him. + </p> + <p> + “Poor colonel!” continued La Croix. “Well, I love to think he died like a + soldier, and not like some of my poor comrades, hashed to atoms, and not a + volley fired over him. I hope they put a stone over him, for he was the + best soldier and the best general in the army.” + </p> + <p> + “O sir!” cried Josephine, “there is no stone even to mark the spot where + he fell,” and she sobbed despairingly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how is this, Private Dard?” inquired La Croix, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Dard apologized for his comrade, and touching his own head significantly + told them that since his wound the sergeant’s memory was defective. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sergeant, didn’t I tell you the colonel must have got the better of + his wound, and got into the battery?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s false, Private Dard; don’t I know our colonel better than that? + Would ever he have let those colors out of his hand, if there had been an + ounce of life left in him?” + </p> + <p> + “He died at the foot of the battery, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn’t we find him?” + </p> + <p> + Here Jacintha put in a word with the quiet subdued meaning of her class. + “I can’t find that anybody ever saw the colonel dead.” + </p> + <p> + “They did not find him, because they did not look for him,” said Sergeant + La Croix. + </p> + <p> + “God forgive you, sergeant!” said Dard, with some feeling. “Not look for + OUR COLONEL! We turned over every body that lay there,—full thirty + there were,—and you were one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Only thirty! Why, we settled more Prussians than that, I’ll swear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! they carried off their dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay! but I don’t see why they should carry our colonel off. His epaulets + was all the thieves could do any good with. Stop! yet I do, Private Dard; + I have a horrible suspicion. No, I have not; it is a certainty. What! + don’t you see, ye ninny? Thunder and thousands of devils, here’s a + disgrace. Dogs of Prussians! they have got our colonel, they have taken + him prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “O God bless them!” cried Josephine; “O God bless the mouth that tells me + so! O sir, I am his wife, his poor heart-broken wife. You would not be so + cruel as to mock my despair. Say again that he may be alive, pray, say it + again!” + </p> + <p> + “His wife! Private Dard, why didn’t you tell me? You tell me nothing. Yes, + my pretty lady, I’ll say it again, and I’ll prove it. Here is an enemy in + full retreat, would they encumber themselves with the colonel? If he was + dead, they’d have whipped off his epaulets, and left him there. Alive? why + not? Look at me: I am alive, and I was worse wounded than he was. They + took me for dead, you see. Courage, madame! you will see him again, take + an old soldier’s word for it. Dard, attention! this is the colonel’s + wife.” + </p> + <p> + She gazed on the speaker like one in a trance. + </p> + <p> + Every eye and every soul had been so bent on Sergeant La Croix that it was + only now Raynal was observed to be missing. The next minute he came riding + out of the stable-yard, and went full gallop down the road. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Rose, with a burst of hope; “he thinks so too; he has hopes. + He is gone somewhere for information. Perhaps to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s excitement and alternations of hope and fear were now + alarming. Rose held her hand, and implored her to try and be calm till + they could see Raynal. + </p> + <p> + Just before dark he came riding fiercely home. Josephine flew down the + stairs. Raynal at sight of her forgot all his caution. He waved his cocked + hat in the air. She fell on her knees and thanked God. He gasped out,— + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner—exchanged for two Prussian lieutenants—sent home—they + say he is in France!” + </p> + <p> + The tears of joy gushed in streams from her. + </p> + <p> + Some days passed in hope and joy inexpressible; but the good doctor was + uneasy for Josephine. She was always listening with supernatural keenness + and starting from her chair, and every fibre of her lovely person seemed + to be on the quiver. + </p> + <p> + Nor was Rose without a serious misgiving. Would husband and wife ever + meet? He evidently looked on her as Madame Raynal, and made it a point of + honor to keep away from Beaurepaire. + </p> + <p> + They had recourse to that ever-soothing influence—her child. Madame + Jouvenel was settled in the village, and Josephine visited her every day, + and came back often with red eyes, but always soothed. + </p> + <p> + One day Rose and she went to Madame Jouvenel, and, entering the house + without ceremony, found the nurse out, and no one watching the child. + </p> + <p> + “How careless!” said Rose. + </p> + <p> + Josephine stopped eagerly to kiss him. But instead of kissing him, she + uttered a loud cry. There was a locket hanging round his neck. + </p> + <p> + It was a locket containing some of Josephine’s hair and Camille’s. She had + given it him in the happy days that followed their marriage. She stood + gasping in the middle of the room. Madame Jouvenel came running in soon + after. Josephine, by a wonderful effort over herself, asked her calmly and + cunningly,— + </p> + <p> + “Where is the gentleman who put this locket round my child’s neck? I want + to speak with him.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Jouvenel stammered and looked confused. + </p> + <p> + “A soldier—an officer?—come, tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “Woman,” cried Rose, “why do you hesitate?” + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do?” said Madame Jouvenel. “He made me swear never to + mention his coming here. He goes away, or hides whenever you come. And + since Madame does not love the poor wounded gentleman, what can he do + better?” + </p> + <p> + “Not love him!” cried Rose: “why, she is his wife, his lawful wedded wife; + he is a fool or a monster to run away for her. She loves him as no woman + ever loved before. She pines for him. She dies for him.” + </p> + <p> + The door of a little back room opened at these words of Rose, and there + stood Camille, with his arm in a sling, pale and astounded, but great joy + and wonder working in his face. + </p> + <p> + Josephine gave a cry of love that made the other two women weep, and in a + moment they were sobbing for joy upon each other’s neck. + </p> + <p> + Away went sorrow, doubt, despair, and all they had suffered. That one + moment paid for all. And in that moment of joy and surprise, so great as + to be almost terrible, perhaps it was well for Josephine that Camille, + weakened by his wound, was quite overcome, and nearly fainted. She was + herself just going into hysterics; but, seeing him quite overcome, she + conquered them directly, and nursed, and soothed, and pitied, and + encouraged him instead. + </p> + <p> + Then they sat hand in hand. Their happiness stopped their very breath. + They could not speak. So Rose told him all. He never owned why he had + slipped away when he saw them coming. He forgot it. He forgot all his hard + thoughts of her. They took him home in the carriage. His wife would not + let him out of her sight. For years and years after this she could hardly + bear to let him be an hour out of her sight. + </p> + <p> + The world is wide; there may be a man in it who can paint the sudden bliss + that fell on these two much suffering hearts; but I am not that man; this + is beyond me; it was not only heaven, but heaven after hell. + </p> + <p> + Leave we the indescribable and the unspeakable for a moment, and go to a + lighter theme. + </p> + <p> + The day Rose’s character was so unexpectedly cleared, Edouard had no + opportunity of speaking to her, or a reconciliation would have taken + place. As it was, he went home intensely happy. But he did not resume his + visits to the chateau. When he came to think calmly over it, his vanity + was cruelly mortified. She was innocent of the greater offence; but how + insolently she had sacrificed him, his love, and his respect, to another’s + interest. + </p> + <p> + More generous thoughts prevailed by degrees. And one day that her pale + face, her tears, and her remorse got the better of his offended pride, he + determined to give her a good lecture that should drown her in penitent + tears; and then end by forgiving her. For one thing he could not be happy + till he had forgiven her. + </p> + <p> + She walked into the room with a calm, dignified, stately air, and before + he could utter one word of his grave remonstrance, attacked him thus: “You + wish to speak to me, sir. If it is to apologize to me, I will save your + vanity the mortification. I forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU forgive ME!” cried Edouard furiously. + </p> + <p> + “No violence, if you please,” said the lady with cold hauteur. “Let us be + friends, as Josephine and Raynal are. We cannot be anything more to one + another now. You have wounded me too deeply by your jealous, suspicious + nature.” + </p> + <p> + Edouard gasped for breath, and was so far out-generalled that he accepted + the place of defendant. “Wasn’t I to believe your own lips? Did not + Colonel Raynal believe you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s excusable. He did not know me. But you were my lover; you + ought to have seen I was forced to deceive poor Raynal. How dare you + believe your eyes; much more your ears, against my truth, against my + honor; and then to believe such nonsense?” Then, with a grand assumption + of superior knowledge, says she, “You little simpleton, how could the + child be mine when I wasn’t married at all?” + </p> + <p> + At this reproach, Edouard first stared, then grinned. “I forgot that,” + said he. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you forgot the moon isn’t made of green cheese. However, if I + saw you very humble, and very penitent, I might, perhaps, really forgive + you—in time.” + </p> + <p> + “No, forgive me at once. I don’t understand your angelical, diabolical, + incomprehensible sex: who on earth can? forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + Lo! the tears that could not come at a remonstrance were flowing in a + stream at his generosity. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter now?” said he tenderly. She cried away, but at the + same time explained,— + </p> + <p> + “What a f—f—foolish you must be not to see that it is I who am + without excuse. You were my betrothed. It was to you I owed my duty; not + my sister. I am a wicked, unhappy girl. How you must hate me!” + </p> + <p> + “I adore you. There, no more forgiving on either side. Let our only + quarrel be who shall love the other best.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know how that will be,” said the observant toad. “You will love me + best till you have got me; and then I shall love you best; oh, ever so + much.” + </p> + <p> + However, the prospect of loving best did not seem disagreeable to her; for + with this announcement she deposited her head on his shoulder, and in that + attitude took a little walk with him up and down the Pleasaunce: sixty + times; about eight miles. + </p> + <p> + These two were a happy pair. This wayward, but generous heart never forgot + her offence, and his forgiveness. She gave herself to him heart and soul, + at the altar, and well she redeemed her vow. He rose high in political + life: and paid the penalty of that sort of ambition; his heart was often + sore. But by his own hearth sat comfort and ever ready sympathy. Ay, and + patient industry to read blue-books, and a ready hand and brain to write + diplomatic notes for him, off which the mind glided as from a ball of ice. + </p> + <p> + In thirty years she never once mentioned the servants to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let eternal honor crown her name!” + </p> + <p> + It was only a little bit of heel that Dard had left in Prussia. More + fortunate than his predecessor (Achilles), he got off with a slight but + enduring limp. And so the army lost him. + </p> + <p> + He married Jacintha, and Josephine set them up in Bigot’s, (deceased) + auberge. Jacintha shone as a landlady, and custom flowed in. For all that, + a hankering after Beaurepaire was observable in her. Her favorite stroll + was into the Beaurepaire kitchen, and on all fetes and grand occasions she + was prominent in gay attire as a retainer of the house. The last specimen + of her homely sagacity I shall have the honor to lay before you is a + critique upon her husband, which she vented six years after marriage. + </p> + <p> + “My Dard,” said she, “is very good as far as he goes. What he has felt + himself, that he can feel FOR: nobody better. You come to him with an + empty belly, or a broken head, or all bleeding with a cut, or black and + blue, and you shall find a friend. But if it is a sore heart, or trouble, + and sorrow, and no hole in your carcass to show for it, you had better + come to ME; for you might as well tell your grief to a stone wall as to my + man.” + </p> + <p> + The baroness took her son Raynal to Paris, and there, with keen eye, + selected him a wife. She proved an excellent one. It would have been hard + if she had not, for the baroness with the severe sagacity of her age and + sex, had set aside as naught a score of seeming angels, before she could + suit herself with a daughter-in-law. At first the Raynals very properly + saw little of the Dujardins; but when both had been married some years, + the recollection of that fleeting and nominal connection waxed faint, + while the memory of great benefits conferred on both sides remained lively + as ever in hearts so great, and there was a warm, a sacred friendship + between the two houses—a friendship of the ancient Greeks, not of + the modern club-house. + </p> + <p> + Camille and Josephine were blessed almost beyond the lot of humanity: none + can really appreciate sunshine but those who come out of the cold dark. + And so with happiness. For years they could hardly be said to live like + mortals: they basked in bliss. But it was a near thing; for they but just + scraped clear of life-long misery, and death’s cold touch grazed them both + as they went. + </p> + <p> + Yet they had heroic virtues to balance White Lies in the great Judge’s + eye. + </p> + <p> + A wholesome lesson, therefore, and a warning may be gathered from this + story: and I know many novelists who would have preached that lesson at + some length in every other chapter, and interrupted the sacred narrative + to do it. But when I read stories so mutilated, I think of a circumstance + related by Mr. Joseph Miller. + </p> + <p> + “An Englishman sojourning in some part of Scotland was afflicted with many + hairs in the butter, and remonstrated. He was told, in reply, that the + hairs and the butter came from one source—the cow; and that the just + and natural proportions hitherto observed, could not be deranged, and bald + butter invented—for ONE. ‘So be it,’ said the Englishman; ‘but let + me have the butter in one plate, and the hairs in another.’” + </p> + <p> + Acting on this hint, I have reserved some admirable remarks, reflections, + discourses, and tirades, until the story should be ended, and the other + plate be ready for the subsidiary sermon. + </p> + <p> + And now that the proper time is come, that love of intruding one’s own + wisdom in one’s own person on the reader, which has marred so many works + of art, is in my case restrained—first, by pure fatigue; secondly, + because the moral of this particular story stands out so clear in the + narrative, that he who runs may read it without any sermon at all. + </p> + <p> + Those who will not take the trouble to gather my moral from the living + tree, would not lift it out of my dead basket: would not unlock their + jaw-bones to bite it, were I to thrust it into their very mouths. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of White Lies, by Charles Reade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE LIES *** + +***** This file should be named 2472-h.htm or 2472-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/7/2472/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; 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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