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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wandering Jew, Complete, by Eugene Sue
+
+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: The Wandering Jew, Complete
+
+Author: Eugene Sue
+
+Last Updated: February 27, 2009
+Release Date: September 2, 2006 [EBook #3350]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WANDERING JEW, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger and Pat Castevens
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WANDERING JEW
+
+By Eugene Sue
+
+
+
+A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR OF THE WANDERING JEW: EUGENE SUE
+
+(1804-1857)
+
+Time and again physicians and seamen have made noteworthy reputations as
+novelists. But it is rare in the annals of literature that a man trained
+in both professions should have gained his greatest fame as a writer of
+novels. Eugene Sue began his career as a physician and surgeon, and then
+spent six years in the French Navy. In 1830, when he returned to
+France, he inherited his father's rich estate and was free to follow
+his inclination to write. His first novel, "Plick et Plock", met with
+an unexpected success, and he at once foreswore the arts of healing and
+navigation for the precarious life of a man of letters. With varying
+success he produced books from his inexhaustible store of personal
+experiences as a doctor and sailor. In 1837, he wrote an authoritative
+work on the French Navy, "Histoire de la marine Francaise".
+
+More and more the novel appealed to his imagination and suited his
+gifts. His themes ranged from the fabulous to the strictly historical,
+and he became popular as a writer of romance and fictionized fact.
+His plays, however, were persistent failures. When he published "The
+Mysteries of Paris", his national fame was assured, and with the writing
+of "The Wandering Jew" he achieved world-wide renown. Then, at the
+height of his literary career, Eugene Sue was driven into exile after
+Louis Napoleon overthrew the Constitutional Government in a coup d'etat
+and had himself officially proclaimed Emperor Napoleon III. The author
+of "The Wandering Jew" died in banishment five years later.
+
+
+
+  Book I.
+
+       Part First.--The Transgression.
+       Prologue.--The Lands End of the World.
+  I.        Morok
+  II.       The Travellers
+  III.      The Arrival
+  IV.       Morok and Dagobert
+  V.        Rose and Blanche
+  VI.       The Secret
+  VII.      The Traveller
+  VIII.     Extracts from General Simon's Diary
+  IX.       The Cages
+  X.        The Surprise
+  XI.       Jovial and Death
+  XII.      The Burgomaster
+  XIII.     The Judgment
+  XIV.      The Decision
+  XV.       The Despatches
+  XVI.      The Orders
+
+
+
+  Book II.
+
+       Interval.--The Wandering Jew's Sentence.
+
+  XVII.     The Ajoupa
+  XVIII.    The Tattooing
+  XIX.      The Smuggler
+  XX.       M. Joshua Van Dael
+  XXI.      The Ruins of Tchandi
+  XXII.     The Ambuscade
+  XXIII.    M. Rodin
+  XXIV.     The Tempest
+  XXV.      The Shipwreck
+  XXVI.     The Departure for Paris
+  XXVII.    Dagobert's Wife
+  XXVIII.   The Sister of the Bacchanal Queen
+  XXIX.     Agricola Baudoin
+  XXX.      The Return
+  XXXI.     Agricola and Mother Bunch
+  XXXII.    The Awakening
+  XXXIII.   The Pavilion
+  XXXIV.    Adrienne at her Toilet
+  XXXV.     The Interview
+
+
+
+  Book III.
+
+  XXXVI.    A Female Jesuit
+  XXXVII.   The Plot
+  XXXVIII.  Adrienne's  Enemies
+  XXXIX.    The Skirmish
+  XL.       The Revolt
+  XLI.      Treachery
+  XLII.     The Snare
+  XLIII.    A False Friend
+  XLIV.     The Minister's Cabinet
+  XLV.      The Visit
+  XLVI.     Presentiments
+  XLVII.    The Letter
+  XLVIII.   The Confessional
+  XLIX.     My Lord and Spoil-sport
+  L.        Appearances
+  LI.       The Convent
+  LII.      The Influence of a Confessor
+  LIII.     The Examination
+
+
+
+  Book IV.
+
+  Part Second.--The Chastisement.
+  Prologue.--The Bird's-Eye View of Two Worlds.
+
+  I.        The Masquerade
+  II.       The Contrast
+  III.      The Carouse
+  IV.       The Farewell
+  V.        The Florine
+  VI.       Mother Sainte-Perpetue
+  VII.      The Temptation
+  VIII.     Mother Bunch and Mdlle. De Cardoville
+  IX.       The Encounters--The Meeting
+  XI.       Discoveries
+  XII.      The Penal Code
+  XIII.     Burglary
+
+
+
+  Book V.
+
+  XIV.      The Eve of a Great Day
+  XV.       The Thug
+  XVI.      The Two Brothers of the Good Work
+  XVII.     The House in the Rue Saint-Francois
+  XVIII.    Debit and Credit
+  XIX.      The Heir
+  XX.       The Rupture
+  XXI.      The Change
+  XXII.     The Red Room
+  XXIII.    The Testament
+  XXIV.     The Last Stroke of Noon
+  XXV.      The Deed of Gift
+
+
+  Book VI.
+
+  Part Second.--The Chastisement. (Concluded.)
+
+  XXVI.     A Good Genius
+  XXVII.    The First Last, And the Last First
+  XXVIII.   The Stranger
+  XXIX.     The Den
+  XXX.      An Unexpected Visit
+  XXXI.     Friendly Services
+  XXXII.    The Advice
+  XXXIII.   The Accuser
+  XXXIV.    Father d'Aigrigny's Secretary
+  XXXV.     Sympathy
+  XXXVI.    Suspicions
+  XXXVII.   Excuses
+  XXXVIII.  Revelations
+  XXXIX.    Pierre Simon
+
+
+
+  Book VII.
+
+  XL.       The East Indian in Paris
+  XLI.      Rising
+  XLII.     Doubts
+  XLIII.    The Letter
+  XLIV.     Adrienne and Djalma
+  XLV.      The Consultation
+  XLVI.     Mother Bunch's Diary
+  XLVII.    The Diary Continued
+  XLVIII.   The Discovery
+  XLIX.     The Trysting-Place of the Wolves
+  L.        The Common Dwelling-House
+  LI.       The Secret
+  LII.      Revelations
+
+  Book VIII.
+
+  Part Third.--The Redemption.
+
+  I.        The Wandering Jew's Chastisement
+  II.       The Descendants of the Wandering Jew
+  III.      The Attack
+  IV.       The Wolves and the Devourers
+  V.        The Return
+  VI.       The Go-Between
+  VII.      Another Secret
+  VIII.     The Confession
+  IX.       Love
+  X.        The Execution
+  XI.       The Champs-Elysees
+  XII.      Behind the Scenes
+  XIII.     Up with the Curtain
+  XIV.      Death
+
+
+
+  Book IX.
+
+  XV.       The Constant Wanderer
+  XVI.      The Luncheon
+  XVII.     Rendering the Account
+  XVIII.    The Square of Notre Dame
+  XIX.      The Cholera Masquerade
+  XX.       The Defiance
+  XXI.      Brandy to the Rescue
+  XXII.     Memories
+  XXIII.    The Poisoner
+  XXIV.     In the Cathedral
+  XXV.      The Murderers
+  XXVI.     The Patient
+  XXVII.    The Lure
+  XXVIII.   Good News
+  XXIX.     The Operation
+  XXX.      The Torture
+  XXXI.     Vice and Virtue
+  XXXII.    Suicide
+
+
+
+  Book X.
+
+  XXXIII.   Confessions
+  XXXIV.    More Confessions
+  XXXV.     The Rivals
+  XXXVI.    The Interview
+  XXXVII.   Soothing Words
+  XXXVIII.  The Two Carriages
+  XXXIX.    The Appointment
+  XL.       Anxiety
+  XLI.      Adrienne and Djalma
+  XLII.     "The Imitation"
+  XLIII.    Prayer
+  XLIV.     Remembrances
+  XLV.      The Blockhead
+  XLVI.     The Anonymous Letters
+  XLVII.    The Golden City
+  XLVIII.   The Stung Lion
+  XLIX.     The Test
+
+
+
+  Book XI.
+
+  L.        The Ruins of the Abbey of St. John the Baptist
+  LI.       The Calvary
+  LII.      The Council
+  LIII.     Happiness
+  LIV.      Duty
+  LV.       The Improvised Hospital
+  LVI.      Hydrophobia
+  LVII.     The Guardian Angel
+  LVIII.    Ruin
+  LIX.      Memories
+  LX.       The Ordeal
+  LXI.      Ambition
+  LXII.     To a Socius, a Socius and a Half
+  LXIII.    Faringhea's Affection
+  LXIV.     An Evening at St. Colombe's
+  LXV.      The Nuptial Bed
+  LXVI.     A Duel to the Death
+  LXVII.    A Message
+  LXVIII.   The First of June
+
+
+  Epilogue.
+
+  I.        Four Years After
+  II.       The Redemption
+
+
+
+
+THE WANDERING JEW.
+
+
+
+
+First Part.--The Transgression.
+
+
+
+
+Prologue.
+
+
+
+
+The Land's End of Two Worlds.
+
+The Arctic Ocean encircles with a belt of eternal ice the desert
+confines of Siberia and North America--the uttermost limits of the Old
+and New worlds, separated by the narrow, channel, known as Behring's
+Straits.
+
+The last days of September have arrived.
+
+The equinox has brought with it darkness and Northern storms, and night
+will quickly close the short and dismal polar day. The sky of a dull
+and leaden blue is faintly lighted by a sun without warmth, whose
+white disk, scarcely seen above the horizon, pales before the dazzling,
+brilliancy of the snow that covers, as far as the eyes can reach, the
+boundless steppes.
+
+To the North, this desert is bounded by a ragged coast, bristling with
+huge black rocks.
+
+At the base of this Titanic mass lied enchained the petrified ocean,
+whose spell-bound waves appear fired as vast ranges of ice mountains,
+their blue peaks fading away in the far-off frost smoke, or snow vapor.
+
+Between the twin-peaks of Cape East, the termination of Siberia, the
+sullen sea is seen to drive tall icebergs across a streak of dead green.
+There lies Behring's Straits.
+
+Opposite, and towering over the channel, rise the granite masses of Cape
+Prince of Wales, the headland of North America.
+
+These lonely latitudes do not belong to the habitable world; for the
+piercing cold shivers the stones, splits the trees, and causes the earth
+to burst asunder, which, throwing forth showers of icy spangles seems
+capable of enduring this solitude of frost and tempest, of famine and
+death.
+
+And yet, strange to say, footprints may be traced on the snow, covering
+these headlands on either side of Behring's Straits.
+
+On the American shore, the footprints are small and light, thus
+betraying the passage of a woman.
+
+She has been hastening up the rocky peak, whence the drifts of Siberia
+are visible.
+
+On the latter ground, footprints larger and deeper betoken the passing
+of a man. He also was on his way to the Straits.
+
+It would seem that this man and woman had arrived here from opposite
+directions, in hope of catching a glimpse of one another, across the arm
+of the sea dividing the two worlds--the Old and the New.
+
+More strange still! the man and the woman have crossed the solitudes
+during a terrific storm! Black pines, the growth of centuries, pointing
+their bent heads in different parts of the solitude like crosses in a
+churchyard, have been uprooted, rent, and hurled aside by the blasts!
+
+Yet the two travellers face this furious tempest, which has plucked up
+trees, and pounded the frozen masses into splinters, with the roar of
+thunder.
+
+They face it, without for one single instant deviating from the straight
+line hitherto followed by them.
+
+Who then are these two beings who advance thus calmly amidst the storms
+and convulsions of nature?
+
+Is it by chance, or design, or destiny, that the seven nails in the sole
+of the man's shoe form a cross--thus:
+
+               *
+             * * *
+               *
+               *
+               *
+
+Everywhere he leaves this impress behind him.
+
+On the smooth and polished snow, these footmarks seem imprinted by a
+foot of brass on a marble floor.
+
+Night without twilight has soon succeeded day--a night of foreboding
+gloom.
+
+The brilliant reflection of the snow renders the white steppes still
+visible beneath the azure darkness of the sky; and the pale stars
+glimmer on the obscure and frozen dome.
+
+Solemn silence reigns.
+
+But, towards the Straits, a faint light appears.
+
+At first, a gentle, bluish light, such as precedes moonrise; it
+increases in brightness, and assumes a ruddy hue.
+
+Darkness thickens in every other direction; the white wilds of the
+desert are now scarcely visible under the black vault of the firmament.
+
+Strange and confused noises are heard amidst this obscurity.
+
+They sound like the flight of large night--birds--now flapping
+now-heavily skimming over the steppes-now descending.
+
+But no cry is heard.
+
+This silent terror heralds the approach of one of those imposing
+phenomena that awe alike the most ferocious and the most harmless, of
+animated beings. An Aurora Borealis (magnificent sight!) common in the
+polar regions, suddenly beams forth.
+
+A half circle of dazzling whiteness becomes visible in the horizon.
+Immense columns of light stream forth from this dazzling centre, rising
+to a great height, illuminating earth, sea, and sky. Then a brilliant
+reflection, like the blaze of a conflagration, steals over the snow of
+the desert, purples the summits of the mountains of ice, and imparts a
+dark red hue to the black rocks of both continents.
+
+After attaining this magnificent brilliancy, the Northern Lights fade
+away gradually, and their vivid glow is lost in a luminous fog.
+
+Just then, by a wondrous mirage an effect very common in high latitudes,
+the American Coast, though separated from Siberia by a broad arm of the
+sea, loomed so close that a bridge might seemingly be thrown from one
+world to other.
+
+Then human forms appeared in the transparent azure haze overspreading
+both forelands.
+
+On the Siberian Cape, a man on his knees, stretched his arms towards
+America, with an expression of inconceivable despair.
+
+On the American promontory, a young and handsome woman replied to the
+man's despairing gesture by pointing to heaven.
+
+For some seconds, these two tall figures stood out, pale and shadowy, in
+the farewell gleams of the Aurora.
+
+But the fog thickens, and all is lost in the darkness.
+
+Whence came the two beings, who met thus amidst polar glaciers, at the
+extremities of the Old and New worlds?
+
+Who were the two creatures, brought near for a moment by a deceitful
+mirage, but who seemed eternally separated?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MOROK.
+
+The month of October, 1831, draws to its close.
+
+Though it is still day, a brass lamp, with four burners, illumines the
+cracked walls of a large loft, whose solitary window is closed against
+outer light. A ladder, with its top rungs coming up through an open trap
+leads to it.
+
+Here and there at random on the floor lie iron chains, spiked collars,
+saw-toothed snaffles, muzzles bristling with nails, and long iron rods
+set in wooden handles. In one corner stands a portable furnace, such as
+tinkers use to melt their spelter; charcoal and dry chips fill it, so
+that a spark would suffice to kindle this furnace in a minute.
+
+Not far from this collection of ugly instruments, putting one in mind
+of a torturer's kit of tools, there are some articles of defence and
+offence of a bygone age. A coat of mail, with links so flexible, close,
+and light, that it resembles steel tissue, hangs from a box beside iron
+cuishes and arm-pieces, in good condition, even to being properly fitted
+with straps. A mace, and two long three-cornered-headed pikes, with ash
+handles, strong, and light at the same time; spotted with lately-shed
+blood, complete the armory, modernized somewhat by the presence of two
+Tyrolese rifles, loaded and primed.
+
+Along with this arsenal of murderous weapons and out-of-date
+instruments, is strangely mingled a collection of very different
+objects, being small glass-lidded boxes, full of rosaries, chaplets,
+medals, AGNUS DEI, holy water bottles, framed pictures of saints, etc.,
+not to forget a goodly number of those chapbooks, struck off in Friburg
+on coarse bluish paper, in which you can hear about miracles of our own
+time, or "Jesus Christ's Letter to a true believer," containing awful
+predictions, as for the years 1831 and '32, about impious revolutionary
+France.
+
+One of those canvas daubs, with which strolling showmen adorn their
+booths, hangs from a rafter, no doubt to prevent its being spoilt by too
+long rolling up. It bore the following legend:
+
+ "THE DOWNRIGHT TRUE AND MOST MEMORABLE CONVERSION OF IGNATIUS MOROK,
+ KNOWN AS THE PROPHET, HAPPENING IN FRIBURG, 1828TH YEAR OF GRACE."
+
+This picture, of a size larger than natural, of gaudy color, and in bad
+taste, is divided into three parts, each presenting an important phase
+in the life of the convert, surnamed "The Prophet." In the first, behold
+a long-bearded man, the hair almost white, with uncouth face, and clad
+in reindeer skin, like the Siberian savage. His black foreskin cap is
+topped with a raven's head; his features express terror. Bent forward in
+his sledge, which half-a-dozen huge tawny dogs draw over the snow, he
+is fleeing from the pursuit of a pack of foxes, wolves, and big bears,
+whose gaping jaws, and formidable teeth, seem quite capable of devouring
+man, sledge, and dogs, a hundred times over. Beneath this section,
+reads:
+
+ "IN 1810, MOROK, THE IDOLATER, FLED FROM WILD BEASTS."
+
+In the second picture, Morok, decently clad in a catechumen's white gown
+kneels, with clasped hands, to a man who wears a white neckcloth, and
+flowing black robe. In a corner, a tall angel, of repulsive aspect,
+holds a trumpet in one hand, and flourishes a flaming sword with the
+other, while the words which follow flow out of his mouth, in red
+letters on a black ground:
+
+ "MOROK, THE IDOLATER, FLED FROM WILD BEASTS; BUT WILD BEASTS WILL FLEE
+ FROM IGNATIUS MOROK, CONVERTED AND BAPTIZED IN FRIBURG."
+
+Thus, in the last compartment, the new convert proudly, boastfully, and
+triumphantly parades himself in a flowing robe of blue; head up, left
+arm akimbo, right hand outstretched, he seems to scare the wits out of a
+multitude of lions, tigers, hyenas, and bears, who, with sheathed claws,
+and masked teeth, crouch at his feet, awestricken, and submissive.
+
+Under this, is the concluding moral:
+
+ "IGNATIUS MOROK BEING CONVERTED, WILD BEASTS CROUCH BEFORE HIM."
+
+Not far from this canvas are several parcels of halfpenny books,
+likewise from the Friburg press, which relate by what an astounding
+miracle Morok, the Idolater, acquired a supernatural power almost
+divine, the moment he was converted--a power which the wildest animal
+could not resist, and which was testified to every day by the lion
+tamer's performances, "given less to display his courage than to show
+his praise unto the Lord."
+
+Through the trap-door which opens into the loft, reek up puffs of a
+rank, sour, penetrating odor. From time to time are heard sonorous
+growls and deep breathings, followed by a dull sound, as of great bodies
+stretching themselves heavily along the floor.
+
+A man is alone in this loft. It is Morok, the tamer of wild beasts,
+surnamed the Prophet.
+
+He is forty years old, of middle height, with lank limbs, and an
+exceedingly spare frame; he is wrapped in a long, blood-red pelisse,
+lined with black fur; his complexion, fair by nature is bronzed by the
+wandering life he has led from childhood; his hair, of that dead yellow
+peculiar to certain races of the Polar countries, falls straight
+and stiff down his shoulders; and his thin, sharp, hooked nose, and
+prominent cheek-bones, surmount a long beard, bleached almost to
+whiteness. Peculiarly marking the physiognomy of this man is the wide
+open eye, with its tawny pupil ever encircled by a rim of white.
+This fixed, extraordinary look, exercises a real fascination over
+animals--which, however, does not prevent the Prophet from also
+employing, to tame them, the terrible arsenal around him.
+
+Seated at a table, he has just opened the false bottom of a box, filled
+with chaplets and other toys, for the use of the devout. Beneath this
+false bottom, secured by a secret lock, are several sealed envelopes,
+with no other address than a number, combined with a letter of the
+alphabet. The Prophet takes one of these packets, conceals it in the
+pocket of his pelisse, and, closing the secret fastening of the false
+bottom, replaces the box upon a shelf.
+
+This scene occurs about four o'clock in the afternoon, in the White
+Falcon, the only hostelry in the little village of Mockern, situated
+near Leipsic, as you come from the north towards France.
+
+After a few moments, the loft is shaken by a hoarse roaring from below.
+
+"Judas! be quiet!" exclaims the Prophet, in a menacing tone, as he turns
+his head towards the trap door.
+
+Another deep growl is heard, formidable as distant thunder.
+
+"Lie down, Cain!" cries Morok, starting from his seat.
+
+A third roar, of inexpressible ferocity, bursts suddenly on the ear.
+
+"Death! Will you have done," cries the Prophet, rushing towards the trap
+door, and addressing a third invisible animal, which bears this ghastly
+name.
+
+Notwithstanding the habitual authority of his voice--notwithstanding
+his reiterated threats--the brute-tamer cannot obtain silence: on the
+contrary, the barking of several dogs is soon added to the roaring of
+the wild beasts. Morok seizes a pike, and approaches the ladder; he is
+about to descend, when he sees some one issuing from the aperture.
+
+The new-comer has a brown, sun-burnt face; he wears a gray hat, bell
+crowned and broad-brimmed, with a short jacket, and wide trousers of
+green cloth; his dusty leathern gaiters show that he has walked some
+distance; a game-bag is fastened by straps to his back.
+
+"The devil take the brutes!" cried he, as he set foot on the floor;
+"one would think they'd forgotten me in three days. Judas thrust his paw
+through the bars of his cage, and Death danced like a fury. They don't
+know me any more, it seems?"
+
+This was said in German. Morok answered in the same language, but with a
+slightly foreign accent.
+
+"Good or bad news, Karl?" he inquired, with some uneasiness.
+
+"Good news."
+
+"You've met them!"
+
+"Yesterday; two leagues from Wittenberg."
+
+"Heaven be praised!" cried Morok, clasping his hands with intense
+satisfaction.
+
+"Oh, of course, 'tis the direct road from Russia to France, 'twas a
+thousand to one that we should find them somewhere between Wittenberg
+and Leipsic."
+
+"And the description?"
+
+"Very close: two young girls in mourning; horse, white; the old man has
+long moustache, blue forage-cap; gray topcoat and a Siberian dog at his
+heels."
+
+"And where did you leave them?"
+
+"A league hence. They will be here within the hour."
+
+"And in this inn--since it is the only one in the village," said Morok,
+with a pensive air.
+
+"And night drawing on," added Karl.
+
+"Did you get the old man to talk?"
+
+"Him!--you don't suppose it!"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Go, and try yourself."
+
+"And for what reason?"
+
+"Impossible."
+
+"Impossible--why?"
+
+"You shall know all about it. Yesterday, as if I had fallen in with
+them by chance, I followed them to the place where they stopped for the
+night. I spoke in German to the tall old man, accosting him, as is usual
+with wayfarers, 'Good-day, and a pleasant journey, comrade!' But, for an
+answer, he looked askant at me, and pointed with, the end of his stick
+to the other side of the road."
+
+"He is a Frenchman, and, perhaps, does not understand German."
+
+"He speaks it, at least as well as you; for at the inn I heard him ask
+the host for whatever he and the young girls wanted."
+
+"And did you not again attempt to engage him in conversation?"
+
+"Once only; but I met with such a rough reception, that for fear of
+making mischief, I did not try again. Besides, between ourselves, I can
+tell you this man has a devilish ugly look; believe me, in spite of his
+gray moustache, he looks so vigorous and resolute, though with no more
+flesh on him than a carcass, that I don't know whether he or my mate
+Giant Goliath, would have the best of it in a struggle. I know not your
+plans: only take care, master--take care!"
+
+"My black panther of Java was also very vigorous and very vicious," said
+Morok, with a grim, disdainful, smile.
+
+"What, Death? Yes; in truth; and she is vigorous and vicious as ever.
+Only to you she is almost mild."
+
+"And thus I will break this tall old man; notwithstanding his strength
+and surliness."
+
+"Humph! humph! be on your guard, master. You are clever, you are as
+brave as any one; but, believe me, you will never make a lamb out of the
+old wolf that will be here presently."
+
+"Does not my lion, Cain--does not my tiger, Judas, crouch in terror
+before me?"
+
+"Yes, I believe you there--because you have means--"
+
+"Because I have faith: that is all--and it is all," said Morok,
+imperiously interrupting Karl, and accompanying these words with such a
+look, that the other hung his head and was silent.
+
+"Why should not he whom the Lord upholds in his struggle with wild
+beasts, be also upheld in his struggle with men, when those men are
+perverse and impious?" added the Prophet, with a triumphant, inspired
+air.
+
+Whether from belief in his master's conviction, or from inability to
+engage in a controversy with him on so delicate a subject, Karl answered
+the Prophet, humbly: "you are wiser than I am, master; what you do must
+be well done."
+
+"Did you follow this old man and these two young girls all day long?"
+resumed the Prophet, after a moment's silence.
+
+"Yes; but at a distance. As I know the country well, I sometimes cut
+across a valley, sometimes over a hill, keeping my eye upon the road,
+where they were always to be seen. The last time I saw them, I was hid
+behind the water-mill by the potteries. As they were on the highway for
+this place, and night was drawing on, I quickened my pace to get here
+before them, and be the bearer of what you call good news."
+
+"Very good--yes--very good: and you shall be rewarded; for if these
+people had escaped me--"
+
+The Prophet started, and did not conclude the sentence. The expression
+of his face, and the tones of his voice, indicated the importance of the
+intelligence which had just been brought him.
+
+"In truth," rejoined Karl, "it may be worth attending to; for that
+Russian courier, all plastered with lace, who came, without slacking
+bridle, from St. Petersburg to Leipsic, only to see you, rode so fast,
+perhaps, for the purpose--"
+
+Morok abruptly interrupted Karl, and said:
+
+"Who told you that the arrival of the courier had anything to do with
+these travellers? You are mistaken; you should only know what I choose
+to tell you."
+
+"Well, master, forgive me, and let's say no more about it. So! I will
+get rid of my game-bag, and go help Goliath to feed the brutes, for
+their supper time draws near, if it is not already past. Does our big
+giant grow lazy, master?"
+
+"Goliath is gone out; he must not know that you are returned; above all,
+the tall old man and the maidens must not see you here--it would make
+them suspect something."
+
+"Where do you wish me to go, then?"
+
+"Into the loft, at the end of the stable, and wait my orders; you may
+this night have to set out for Leipsic."
+
+"As you please; I have some provisions left in my pouch, and can sup in
+the loft whilst I rest myself."
+
+"Go."
+
+"Master, remember what I told you. Beware of that old fellow with
+the gray moustache; I think he's devilish tough; I'm up to these
+things--he's an ugly customer--be on your guard!"
+
+"Be quite easy! I am always on my guard," said Morok.
+
+"Then good luck to you, master!"--and Karl, having reached the ladder,
+suddenly disappeared.
+
+After making a friendly farewell gesture to his servant, the Prophet
+walked up and down for some time, with an air of deep meditation; then,
+approaching the box which contained the papers, he took out a pretty
+long letter, and read it over and over with profound attention. From
+time to time he rose and went to the closed window, which looked upon
+the inner court of the inn, and appealed to listen anxiously; for he
+waited with impatience the arrival of the three persons whose approach
+had just been announced to him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE TRAVELLERS.
+
+While the above scene was passing in the White Falcon at Mockern, the
+three persons whose arrival Morok was so anxiously expecting, travelled
+on leisurely in the midst of smiling meadows, bounded on one side by
+a river, the current of which turned a mill; and on the other by the
+highway leading to the village, which was situated on an eminence, at
+about a league's distance.
+
+The sky was beautifully serene; the bubbling of the river, beaten by the
+mill-wheel and sparkling with foam, alone broke upon the silence of an
+evening profoundly calm. Thick willows, bending over the river, covered
+it with their green transparent shadow; whilst, further on, the stream
+reflected so splendidly the blue heavens and the glowing tints of the
+west, that, but for the hills which rose between it and the sky, the
+gold and azure of the water would have mingled in one dazzling sheet
+with the gold and azure of the firmament. The tall reeds on the bank
+bent their black velvet heads beneath the light breath of the breeze
+that rises at the close of day--for the sun was gradually sinking behind
+a broad streak of purple clouds, fringed with fire. The tinkling bells
+of a flock of sheep sounded from afar in the clear and sonorous air.
+
+Along a path trodden in the grass of the meadow, two girls, almost
+children--for they had but just completed their fifteenth year--were
+riding on a white horse of medium size, seated upon a large saddle with
+a back to it, which easily took them both in, for their figures were
+slight and delicate.
+
+A man of tall stature, with a sun-burnt face, and long gray moustache,
+was leading the horse by the bridle, and ever and anon turned towards
+the girls, with an air of solicitude at once respectful and paternal. He
+leaned upon a long staff; his still robust shoulders carried a soldier's
+knapsack; his dusty shoes, and step that began to drag a little, showed
+that he had walked a long way.
+
+One of those dogs which the tribes of Northern Siberia harness to their
+sledges--a sturdy animal, nearly of the size, form, and hairy coat of
+the wolf--followed closely in the steps of the leader of this little
+caravan, never quitting, as it is commonly said, the heels of his
+master.
+
+Nothing could be more charming than the group formed by the girls. One
+held with her left hand the flowing reins, and with her right encircled
+the waist of her sleeping sister, whose head reposed on her shoulder.
+Each step of the horse gave a graceful swaying to these pliant forms,
+and swung their little feet, which rested on a wooden ledge in lieu of a
+stirrup.
+
+These twin sisters, by a sweet maternal caprice, had been called Rose
+and Blanche; they were now orphans, as might be seen by their sad
+mourning vestments, already much worn. Extremely, like in feature, and
+of the same size, it was necessary to be in the constant habit of seeing
+them, to distinguish one from the other. The portrait of her who slept
+not, might serve them for both of them; the only difference at the
+moment being, that Rose was awake and discharging for that day the
+duties of elder sister--duties thus divided between then, according to
+the fancy of their guide, who, being an old soldier of the empire, and a
+martinet, had judged fit thus to alternate obedience and command between
+the orphans.
+
+Greuze would have been inspired by the sight of those sweet faces,
+coifed in close caps of black velvet, from beneath which strayed a
+profusion of thick ringlets of a light chestnut color, floating down
+their necks and shoulders, and setting, as in a frame, their round,
+firm, rosy, satin like cheeks. A carnation, bathed in dew, is of no
+richer softness than their blooming lips; the wood violet's tender blue
+would appear dark beside the limpid azure of their large eyes, in which
+are depicted the sweetness of their characters, and the innocence of
+their age; a pure and white forehead, small nose, dimpled chin, complete
+these graceful countenances, which present a delightful blending of
+candor and gentleness.
+
+You should have seen them too, when, on the threatening of rain or
+storm, the old soldier carefully wrapped them both in a large pelisse
+of reindeer fur, and pulled over their heads the ample hood of this
+impervious garment; then nothing could be more lovely than those fresh
+and smiling little faces, sheltered beneath the dark-colored cowl.
+
+But now the evening was fine and calm; the heavy cloak hung in folds
+about the knees of the sisters, and the hood rested on the back of their
+saddle.
+
+Rose, still encircling with her right arm the waist of her sleeping
+sister, contemplated her with an expression of ineffable tenderness,
+akin to maternal; for Rose was the eldest for the day, and an elder
+sister is almost a mother.
+
+Not only, did the orphans idolize each other; but, by a psychological
+phenomenon, frequent with twins, they were almost always simultaneously
+affected; the emotion of one was reflected instantly in the countenance
+of the other; the same cause would make both of them start or blush, so
+closely did their young hearts beat in unison; all ingenuous joys, all
+bitter griefs were mutually felt, and shared in a moment between them.
+
+In their infancy, simultaneously attacked by a severe illness, like two
+flowers on the same steam, they had drooped, grown pale, and languished
+together; but together also had they again found the pure, fresh hues of
+health.
+
+Need it be said, that those mysterious, indissoluble links which united
+the twins, could not have been broken without striking a mortal blow at
+the existence of the poor children?
+
+Thus the sweet birds called love-birds, only living in pairs, as if
+endowed with a common life, pine, despond, and die, when parted by a
+barbarous hand.
+
+The guide of the orphans, a man of about fifty-five, distinguished by
+his military air and gait, preserved the immortal type of the warriors
+of the republic and the empire--some heroic of the people, who became,
+in one campaign, the first soldiers in the world--to prove what the
+people can do, have done, and will renew, when the rulers of their
+choice place in them confidence, strength, and their hope.
+
+This soldier, guide of the sisters, and formerly a horse-grenadier
+of the Imperial Guard, had been nicknamed Dagobert. His grave, stern
+countenance was strongly marked; his long, gray, and thick moustache
+completely concealed his upper lip, and united with a large imperial,
+which almost covered his chin; his meagre cheeks, brick-colored, and
+tanned as parchment, were carefully shaven; thick eyebrows, still black,
+overhung and shaded his light blue eyes; gold ear-rings reached down to
+his white-edged military stock; his topcoat, of coarse gray cloth, was
+confined at the waist by a leathern belt; and a blue foraging cap, with
+a red tuft falling on his left shoulder, covered his bald head.
+
+Once endowed with the strength of Hercules, and having still the
+heart of a lion--kind and patient, because he was courageous and
+strong--Dagobert, notwithstanding his rough exterior, evinced for his
+orphan charges an exquisite solicitude, a watchful kindness, and a
+tenderness almost maternal. Yes, motherly; for the heroism of affection
+dwells alike in the mother's heart and the soldiers.
+
+Stoically calm, and repressing all emotion, the unchangeable coolness of
+Dagobert never failed him; and, though few were less given to drollery,
+he was now and then highly comic, by reason of the imperturbable gravity
+with which he did everything.
+
+From time to time, as they journeyed on, Dagobert would turn to bestow
+a caress or friendly word on the good white home upon which the orphans
+were mounted. Its furrowed sides and long teeth betrayed a venerable
+age. Two deep scars, one on the flank and the other on the chest, proved
+that his horse had been present in hot battles; nor was it without an
+act of pride that he sometimes shook his old military bridle, the brass
+stud of which was still adorned with an embossed eagle. His pace was
+regular, careful, and steady; his coat sleek, and his bulk moderate; the
+abundant foam, which covered his bit, bore witness to that health which
+horses acquire by the constant, but not excessive, labor of a long
+journey, performed by short stages. Although he had been more than six
+months on the road, this excellent animal carried the orphans, with a
+tolerably heavy portmanteau fastened to the saddle, as freely as on the
+day they started.
+
+If we have spoken of the excessive length of the horse's teeth--the
+unquestionable evidence of great age--it is chiefly because he often
+displayed them, for the sole purpose of acting up to his name (he was
+called Jovial), by playing a mischievous trick, of which the dog was the
+victim.
+
+This latter, who, doubtless for the sake of contrast, was called
+Spoil-sport (Rabat-joie), being always at his master's heels, found
+himself within the reach of Jovial, who from time to time nipped him
+delicately by the nape of the neck, lifted him from the ground, and
+carried him thus for a moment. The dog, protected by his thick coat,
+and no doubt long accustomed to the practical jokes of his companion,
+submitted to all this with stoical complacency; save that, when he
+thought the jest had lasted long enough, he would turn his head and
+growl. Jovial understood him at the first hint, and hastened to set him
+down again. At other times, just to avoid monotony, Jovial would gently
+bite the knapsack of the soldier, who seemed, as well as the dog, to be
+perfectly accustomed to his pleasantries.
+
+These details will give a notion of the excellent understanding that
+existed between the twin sisters, the old soldier, the horse, and the
+dog.
+
+The little caravan proceeded on its ways anxious to reach, before night,
+the village of Mockern, which was now visible on the summit of a hill.
+Ever and anon, Dagobert looked around him, and seemed to be gathering up
+old recollections; by degrees, his countenance became clouded, and
+when he was at a little distance from the mill, the noise of which had
+arrested his attention, he stopped, and drew his long moustache several
+times between his finger and thumb, the only sign which revealed in him
+any strong and concentrated feeling.
+
+Jovial, having stopped short behind his master, Blanche, awakened
+suddenly by the shock, raised her head; her first look sought her
+sister, on whom she smiled sweetly; then both exchanged glances of
+surprise, on seeing Dagobert motionless, with his hands clasped and
+resting on his long staff, apparently affected by some painful and deep
+emotion.
+
+The orphans just chanced to be at the foot of a little mound, the summit
+of which was buried in the thick foliage of a huge oak, planted half
+way down the slope. Perceiving that Dagobert continued motionless and
+absorbed in thought, Rose leaned over her saddle, and, placing her
+little white hand on the shoulder of their guide, whose back was turned
+towards her, said to him, in a soft voice, "Whatever is the matter with
+you, Dagobert?"
+
+The veteran turned; to the great astonishment of the sisters, they
+perceived a large tear, which traced its humid furrow down his tanned
+cheek, and lost itself in his thick moustache.
+
+"You weeping--you!" cried Rose and Blanche together, deeply moved. "Tell
+us, we beseech, what is the matter?"
+
+After a moments hesitation, the soldier brushed his horny hand across
+his eyes, and said to the orphans in a faltering voice, whilst he
+pointed to the old oak beside them: "I shall make you sad, my poor
+children: and yet what I'm going to tell you has something sacred in it.
+Well, eighteen years ago, on the eve of the great battle of Leipsic,
+I carried your father to this very tree. He had two sabre-cuts on the
+head, a musket ball in his shoulder; and it was here that he and I--who
+had got two thrust of a lance for my share--were taken prisoners; and by
+whom, worse luck?--why, a renegado! By a Frenchman--an emigrant marquis,
+then colonel in the service of Russia--and who afterwards--but one day
+you shall know all."
+
+The veteran paused; then, pointing with his staff to the village of
+Mockern, he added: "Yes, yes, I can recognize the spot. Yonder are the
+heights where your brave father--who commanded us, and the Poles of
+the Guard--overthrew the Russian Cuirassiers, after having carried
+the battery. Ah, my children!" continued the soldier, with the utmost
+simplicity, "I wish you had, seen your brave father, at the head of our
+brigade of horse, rushing on in a desperate charge in the thick of a
+shower of shells!--There was nothing like it--not a soul so grand as
+he!"
+
+Whilst Dagobert thus expressed, in his own way, his regrets and
+recollections, the two orphans--by a spontaneous movement, glided gently
+from the horse, and holding each other by the hand, went together to
+kneel at the foot of the old oak. And there, closely pressed in each
+other's arms, they began to weep; whilst the soldier, standing behind
+them, with his hands crossed on his long staff, rested his bald front
+upon it.
+
+"Come, come you must not fret," said he softly, when, after a pause of
+a few minutes, he saw tears run down the blooming cheeks of Rose and
+Blanche, still on their knees. "Perhaps we may find General Simon in
+Paris," added he; "I will explain all that to you this evening at the
+inn. I purposely waited for this day, to tell you many things about
+your father; it was an idea of mine, because this day is a sort of
+anniversary."
+
+"We weep because we think also of our mother," said Rose.
+
+"Of our mother, whom we shall only see again in heaven," added Blanche.
+
+The soldier raised the orphans, took each by the hand, and gazing from
+one to the other with ineffable affection, rendered still the more
+touching by the contrast of his rude features, "You must not give way
+thus, my children," said he; "it is true your mother was the best of
+women. When she lived in Poland, they called her the Pearl of Warsaw--it
+ought to have been the Pearl of the Whole World--for in the whole world
+you could not have found her match. No--no!"
+
+The voice of Dagobert faltered; he paused, and drew his long gray
+moustache between finger and thumb, as was his habit. "Listen, my
+girls," he resumed, when he had mastered his emotion; "your mother could
+give you none but the best advice, eh?"
+
+"Yes Dagobert."
+
+"Well, what instructions did she give you before she died? To think
+often of her, but without grieving?"
+
+"It is true; she told us than our Father in heaven, always good to poor
+mothers whose children are left on earth, would permit her to hear us
+from above," said Blanche.
+
+"And that her eyes would be ever fixed upon us," added Rose.
+
+And the two, by a spontaneous impulse, replete with the most touching
+grace, joined hands, raised their innocent looks to heaven, and
+exclaimed, with that beautiful faith natural to their age: "Is it not
+so, mother?--thou seest us?--thou hearest us?"
+
+"Since your mother sees and hears you," said Dagobert, much moved, "do
+not grieve her by fretting. She forbade you to do so."
+
+"You are right, Dagobert. We will not cry any more."--And the orphans
+dried their eyes.
+
+Dagobert, in the opinion of the devout, would have passed for a very
+heathen. In Spain, he had found pleasure in cutting down those monks of
+all orders and colors, who, bearing crucifix in one hand, and poniard
+in the other, fought not for liberty--the Inquisition had strangled her
+centuries ago--but, for their monstrous privileges. Yet, in forty years,
+Dagobert had witnessed so many sublime and awful scenes--he had been
+so many times face to face with death--that the instinct of natural
+religion, common to every simple, honest heart, had always remained
+uppermost in his soul. Therefore, though he did not share in the
+consoling faith of the two sisters, he would have held as criminal any
+attempt to weaken its influence.
+
+Seeing them this downcast, he thus resumed: "That's right, my
+pretty ones: I prefer to hear you chat as you did this morning and
+yesterday--laughing at times, and answering me when I speak, instead of
+being so much engrossed with your own talk. Yes, yes, my little ladies!
+you seem to have had famous secrets together these last two days--so,
+much the better, if it amuses you."
+
+The sisters colored, and exchanged a subdued smile, which contrasted
+with the tears that yet filled their eyes, and Rose said to the soldier,
+with a little embarrassment. "No, I assure you, Dagobert, we talk of
+nothing in particular."
+
+"Well, well; I don't wish to know it. Come, rest yourselves, a few
+moments more, and then we must start again; for it grows late, and we
+have to reach Mockern before night, so that we may be early on the road
+to-morrow."
+
+"Have we still a long, long way to go?" asked Rose.
+
+"What, to reach Paris? Yes, my children; some hundred days' march. We
+don't travel quick, but we get on; and we travel cheap, because we have
+a light purse. A closet for you, a straw mattress and a blanket at your
+door for me, with Spoil-sport on my feet, and a clean litter for old
+Jovial, these are our whole traveling expenses. I say nothing about
+food, because you two together don't eat more than a mouse, and I have
+learnt in Egypt and Spain to be hungry only when it suits."
+
+"Not forgetting that, to save still more, you do all the cooking for us,
+and will not even let us assist."
+
+"And to think, good Dagobert, that you wash almost every evening at our
+resting-place. As if it were not for us to--"
+
+"You!" said the soldier, interrupting Blanche, "I, allow you to chap
+your pretty little hands in soap-suds! Pooh! don't a soldier on a
+campaign always wash his own linen? Clumsy as you see me, I was the best
+washerwoman in my squadron--and what a hand at ironing! Not to make a
+brag of it."
+
+"Yes, yes--you can iron well--very well."
+
+"Only sometimes, there will be a little singe," said Rose, smiling.
+
+"Hah! when the iron is too hot. Zounds! I may bring it as near my cheek
+as I please; my skin is so tough that I don't feel the heat," said
+Dagobert, with imperturbable gravity.
+
+"We are only jesting, good Dagobert!"
+
+"Then, children, if you think that I know my trade as a washerwoman, let
+me continue to have your custom: it is cheaper; and, on a journey, poor
+people like us should save where we can, for we must, at all events,
+keep enough to reach Paris. Once there, our papers and the medal you
+wear will do the rest--I hope so, at least."
+
+"This medal is sacred to us; mother gave it to us on her death-bed."
+
+"Therefore, take great care that you do not lose it: see, from time to
+time, that you have it safe."
+
+"Here it is," said Blanche, as she drew from her bosom a small bronze
+medal, which she wore suspended from her neck by a chain of the same
+material. The medal bore on its faces the following inscriptions:
+
+                 Victim
+                  of
+               L. C. D. J.
+               Pray for me!
+                   ----
+                  Paris
+            February the, 13th, 1682.
+
+                At Paris.
+            Rue Saint Francois, No. 3,
+            In a century and a half
+               you will be.
+            February the 13th, 1832.
+                   ----
+                PRAY FOR ME!
+
+"What does it mean, Dagobert?" resumed Blanche, as she examined the
+mournful inscriptions. "Mother was not able to tell us."
+
+"We will discuss all that this evening; at the place where we sleep,"
+answered Dagobert. "It grows late, let us be moving. Put up the medal
+carefully, and away!--We have yet nearly an hour's march to arrive at
+quarters. Come, my poor pets, once more look at the mound where your
+brave father fell--and then--to horse! to horse!"
+
+The orphans gave a last pious glance at the spot which had recalled to
+their guide such painful recollections, and, with his aid, remounted
+Jovial.
+
+This venerable animal had not for one moment dreamed of moving; but,
+with the consummate forethought of a veteran, he had made the best use
+of his time, by taking from that foreign soil a large contribution of
+green and tender grass, before the somewhat envious eyes of Spoil-sport,
+who had comfortably established himself in the meadow, with his snout
+protruding between his fore-paws. On the signal of departure, the dog
+resumed his post behind his master, and Dagobert, trying the ground with
+the end of his long staff, led the horse carefully along by the bridle,
+for the meadow was growing more and more marshy; indeed, after advancing
+a few steps, he was obliged to turn off to the left, in order to regain
+the high-road.
+
+On reaching Mockern, Dagobert asked for the least expensive inn, and was
+told there was only one in the village--the White Falcon.
+
+"Let us go then to the White Falcon," observed the soldier.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE ARRIVAL.
+
+Already had Morok several times opened with impatience the window
+shutters of the loft, to look out upon the inn-yard, watching for the
+arrival of the orphans and the soldier. Not seeing them, he began once
+more to walk slowly up and down, with his head bent forward, and his
+arms folded on his bosom, meditating on the best means to carry out
+the plan he had conceived. The ideas which possessed his mind, were,
+doubtless, of a painful character, for his countenance grew even more
+gloomy than usual.
+
+Notwithstanding his ferocious appearance, he was by no means deficient
+in intelligence. The courage displayed in his taming exercises (which
+he gravely attributed to his recent conversion), a solemn and mystical
+style of speech, and a hypocritical affectation of austerity, had given
+him a species of influence over the people he visited in his travels.
+Long before his conversion, as may well be supposed, Morok had been
+familiar with the habits of wild beasts. In fact born in the north of
+Siberia, he had been, from his boyhood, one of the boldest hunters of
+bears and reindeer; later, in 1810, he had abandoned this profession, to
+serve as guide to a Russian engineer, who was charged with an exploring
+expedition to the Polar regions. He afterwards followed him to St.
+Petersburg, and there, after some vicissitudes of fortune, Morok became
+one of the imperial couriers--these iron automata, that the least
+caprice of the despot hurls in a frail sledge through the immensity of
+the empire, from Persia to the Frozen Sea. For these men, who travel
+night and day, with the rapidity of lightning there are neither seasons
+nor obstacles, fatigues nor danger; living projectiles, they must either
+be broken to pieces, or reach the intended mark. One may conceive the
+boldness, the vigor, and the resignation, of men accustomed to such a
+life.
+
+It is useless to relate here, by what series of singular circumstances
+Morok was induced to exchange his rough pursuit for another profession,
+and at last to enter, as catechumen, a religious house at Friburg;
+after which, being duly and properly converted, he began his nomadic
+excursions, with his menagerie of unknown origin.
+
+Morok continued to walk up and down the loft. Night had come. The three
+persons whose arrival he so impatiently expected had not yet made their
+appearance. His walk became more and more nervous and irregular.
+
+On a sudden he stopped abruptly; leaned his head towards the window; and
+listened. His ear was quick as a savage's.
+
+"They are here!" he exclaimed and his fox like eye shone with diabolic
+joy. He had caught the sound of footsteps--a man's and a horse's.
+Hastening to the window-shutter of the loft, he opened it cautiously,
+and saw the two young girls on horseback, and the old soldier who served
+them as a guide, enter the inn-yard together.
+
+The night had set in, dark and cloudy; a high wind made the lights
+flicker in the lanterns which were used to receive the new guests. But
+the description given to Morok had been so exact, that it was impossible
+to mistake them. Sure of his prey, he closed the window. Having remained
+in meditation for another quarter of an hour--for the purpose, no doubt,
+of thoroughly digesting his projects--he leaned over the aperture, from
+which projected the ladder, and called, "Goliath!"
+
+"Master!" replied a hoarse voice.
+
+"Come up to me."
+
+"Here I am--just come from the slaughter-house with the meat."
+
+The steps of the ladder creaked as an enormous head appeared on a level
+with the floor. The new-comer, who was more than six feet high, and
+gifted with herculean proportions, had been well-named Goliath. He was
+hideous. His squinting eyes were deep set beneath a low and projecting
+forehead; his reddish hair and beard, thick and coarse as horse-hair,
+gave his features a stamp of bestial ferocity; between his broad jaws,
+armed with teeth which resembled fangs, he held by one corner a piece of
+raw beef weighing ten or twelve pounds, finding it, no doubt, easier to
+carry in that fashion, whilst he used his hands to ascend the ladder,
+which bent beneath his weight.
+
+At length the whole of this tall and huge body issued from the aperture.
+Judging by his bull-neck, the astonishing breadth of his chest and
+shoulders, and the vast bulk of his arms and legs, this giant need not
+have feared to wrestle single-handed with a bear. He wore an old pair
+of blue trousers with red stripes, faced with tanned sheep's-skin, and
+a vest, or rather cuirass, of thick leather, which was here and there
+slashed by the sharp claws of the animals.
+
+When he was fairly on the floor, Goliath unclasped his fangs, opened his
+mouth, and let fall the great piece of beef, licking his blood-stained
+lips with greediness. Like many other mountebanks, this species of
+monster had began by eating raw meat at the fairs for the amusement of
+the public. Thence having gradually acquired a taste for this barbarous
+food, and uniting pleasure with profit, he engaged himself to perform
+the prelude to the exercises of Morok, by devouring, in the presence of
+the crowd, several pounds of raw flesh.
+
+"My share and Death's are below stairs, and here are those of Cain
+and Judas," said Goliath, pointing to the chunk of beef. "Where is
+the cleaver, that I may cut it in two?--No preference here--beast or
+man--every gullet must have it's own."
+
+Then, rolling up one of the sleeves of his vest, he exhibited a fore-arm
+hairy as skin of a wolf, and knotted with veins as large as one's thumb.
+
+"I say, master, where's the cleaver?"--He again began, as he cast round
+his eyes in search of that instrument. But instead of replying to this
+inquiry, the Prophet put many questions to his disciple.
+
+"Were you below when just now some new travellers arrived at the inn?"
+
+"Yes, master; I was coming from the slaughter-house."
+
+"Who are these travellers?"
+
+"Two young lasses mounted on a white horse, and an old fellow with a
+big moustache. But the cleaver?--my beasts are hungry and so am I--the
+cleaver!"
+
+"Do you know where they have lodged these travellers?"
+
+"The host took them to the far end of the court-yard."
+
+"The building, which overlooks the fields?"
+
+"Yes, master--but the cleaver--"
+
+A burst of frightful roaring shook the loft, and interrupted Goliath.
+
+"Hark to them!" he exclaimed; "hunger has driven the beasts wild. If I
+could roar, I should do as they do. I have never seen Judas and Cain as
+they are to-night; they leap in their cages as if they'd knock all to
+pieces. As for Death, her eyes shine more than usual like candles--poor
+Death!"
+
+"So these girls are lodged in the building at the end of the
+court-yard," resumed Morok, without attending to the observations of
+Goliath.
+
+"Yes, yes--but in the devil's name, where is the cleaver? Since Karl
+went away I have to do all the work, and that makes our meals very
+late."
+
+"Did the old man remain with the young girls?" asked Morok.
+
+Goliath, amazed that, notwithstanding his importunities, his master
+should still appear to neglect the animals' supper, regarded the Prophet
+with an increase of stupid astonishment.
+
+"Answer, you brute!"
+
+"If I am a brute, I have a brute's strength," said Goliath, in a surly
+tone, "and brute against brute, I have not always come the worst off."
+
+"I ask if the old man remained with the girls," repeated Morok.
+
+"Well, then--no!" returned the giant. "The old man, after leading his
+horse to the stable, asked for a tub and some water, took his stand
+under the porch--and there--by the light of a lantern--he is washing
+out clothes. A man with a gray moustache!--paddling in soap-suds like
+a washerwoman--it's as if I were to feed canaries!" added Goliath,
+shrugging his shoulders with disdain. "But now I've answered you,
+master, let me attend to the beasts' supper,"--and, looking round for
+something, he added, "where is the cleaver?"
+
+After a moment of thoughtful silence, the Prophet said to Goliath, "You
+will give no food to the beasts this evening."
+
+At first the giant could not understand these words, the idea was so
+incomprehensible to him.
+
+"What is your pleasure, master?" said he.
+
+"I forbid you to give any food to the beasts this evening."
+
+Goliath did not answer, but he opened wide his squinting eyes, folded
+his hands, and drew back a couple of steps.
+
+"Well, dost hear me?" said Morok, with impatience. "Is it plain enough?"
+
+"Not feed? when our meat is there, and supper is already three hours
+after time!" cried Goliath, with ever-increasing amazement.
+
+"Obey, and hold your tongue."
+
+"You must wish something bad to happen this evening. Hunger makes the
+beasts furious--and me also."
+
+"So much the better!"
+
+"It'll drive 'em mad."
+
+"So much the better!"
+
+"How, so much the better?--But--"
+
+"It is enough!"
+
+"But, devil take me, I am as hungry as the beasts!"
+
+"Eat then--who prevents it? Your supper is ready, as you devour it raw."
+
+"I never eat without my beasts, nor they without me."
+
+"I tell you again, that, if you dare give any food to the beasts--I will
+turn you away."
+
+Goliath uttered a low growl as hoarse as a bear's, and looked at the
+Prophet with a mixture of anger and stupefaction.
+
+Morok, having given his orders, walked up and down the loft, appearing
+to reflect. Then, addressing himself to Goliath, who was still plunged
+in deep perplexity, he said to him.
+
+"Do you remember the burgomaster's, where I went to get my passport
+signed?--To-day his wife bought some books and a chaplet."
+
+"Yes," answered the giant shortly.
+
+"Go and ask his servant if I may be sure to find the burgomaster early
+to-morrow morning."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"I may, perhaps, have something important to communicate; at all events,
+say that I beg him not to leave home without seeing me."
+
+"Good! but may I feed the beasts before I go to the burgomaster's?--only
+the panther, who is most hungry? Come, master; only poor Death? just a
+little morsel to satisfy her; Cain and I and Judas can wait."
+
+"It is the panther, above all, that I forbid you to feed. Yes, her,
+above all the rest."
+
+"By the horns of the devil!" cried Goliath, "what is the matter with you
+to-day? I can make nothing of it. It is a pity that Karl's not here; he,
+being cunning, would help me to understand why you prevent the beasts
+from eating when they are hungry."
+
+"You have no need to understand it."
+
+"Will not Karl soon come back?"
+
+"He has already come back."
+
+"Where is he, then?"
+
+"Off again."
+
+"What can be going on here? There is something in the wind. Karl goes,
+and returns, and goes again, and--"
+
+"We are not talking of Karl, but of you; though hungry as a wolf you
+are cunning as a fox, and, when it suits you, as cunning as Karl." And,
+changing on the sudden his tone and manner, Morok slapped the giant
+cordially on the shoulder.
+
+"What! am I cunning?"
+
+"The proof is, that there are ten florins to earn to-night--and you will
+be keen enough to earn them, I am sure."
+
+"Why, on those terms, yes--I am awake," said the giant, smiling with a
+stupid, self-satisfied air. "What must I do for ten florins?"
+
+"You shall see."
+
+"Is it hard work?"
+
+"You shall see. Begin by going to the burgomaster's--but first light the
+fire in that stove." He pointed to it with his finger.
+
+"Yes, master," said Goliath, somewhat consoled for the delay of his
+supper by the hope of gaining ten florins.
+
+"Put that iron bar in the stove," added the Prophet, "to make it
+red-hot."
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+"You will leave it there; go to the burgomaster's, and return here to
+wait for me."
+
+"Yes, master.
+
+"You will keep the fire up in the stove."
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+Morok took a step away, but recollecting himself, he resumed: "You say
+the old man is busy washing under the porch?"
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+"Forget nothing: the iron bar in the fire--the burgomaster--and return
+here to wait my orders." So saying, Morok descended by the trap-door and
+disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. MOROK and DAGOBERT
+
+Goliath had not been mistaken, for Dagobert was washing with that
+imperturbable gravity with which he did everything else.
+
+When we remember the habits of a soldier a-field, we need not be
+astonished at this apparent eccentricity. Dagobert only thought of
+sparing the scanty purse of the orphans, and of saving them all care and
+trouble; so every evening when they came to a halt he devoted himself
+to all sorts of feminine occupations. But he was not now serving his
+apprenticeship in these matters; many times, during his campaigns, he
+had industriously repaired the damage and disorder which a day of battle
+always brings to the garments of the soldier; for it is not enough to
+receive a sabre-cut--the soldier has also to mend his uniform; for the
+stroke which grazes the skin makes likewise a corresponding fissure in
+the cloth.
+
+Therefore, in the evening or on the morrow of a hard-fought engagement,
+you will see the best soldiers (always distinguished by their fine
+military appearance) take from their cartridge-box or knapsack a
+housewife, furnished with needles, thread, scissors, buttons, and other
+such gear, and apply themselves to all kinds of mending and darning,
+with a zeal that the most industrious workwoman might envy.
+
+We could not find a better opportunity to explain the name of Dagobert,
+given to Francis Baudoin (the guide of the orphans) at a time when he
+was considered one of the handsomest and bravest horse-grenadiers of the
+Imperial Guard.
+
+They had been fighting hard all day, without any decisive advantage. In
+the evening, the company to which our hero belonged was sent as outliers
+to occupy the ruins of a deserted village. Videttes being posted, half
+the troopers remained in saddle, whilst the others, having picketed
+their horses, were able to take a little rest. Our hero had charged
+valiantly that day without receiving any wound--for he counted as a mere
+memento the deep scratch on his thigh, which a kaiserlitz had inflicted
+in awkwardly attempting an upward thrust with the bayonet.
+
+"You donkey! my new breeches!" the grenadier had exclaimed, when he
+saw the wide yawning rent, which he instantly avenged by running the
+Austrian through, with a thrust scientifically administered. For, if he
+showed a stoical indifference on the subject of injury to his skin, it
+was not so with regard to the ripping up of his best parade uniform.
+
+He undertook, therefore, the same evening, at the bivouac, to repair
+this accident. Selecting his best needle and thread from the stores of
+his housewife, and arming his finger with a thimble, he began to play
+the tailor by the light of the watch-fire, having first drawn off his
+cavalry-boots, and also (if it must be confessed) the injured garment
+itself, which he turned the wrong side out the better to conceal the
+stitches.
+
+This partial undress was certainly a breach of discipline: but the
+captain, as he went his round, could not forbear laughing at the sight
+of the veteran soldier, who, gravely seated, in a squatting position,
+with his grenadier cap on, his regimental coat on his back, his boots
+by his side, and his galligaskins in his lap, was sewing with all the
+coolness of a tailor upon his own shop-board.
+
+Suddenly, a musket-shot is heard, and the videttes fall back upon the
+detachment, calling to arms. "To horse!" cries the captain, in a voice
+of thunder.
+
+In a moment, the troopers are in their saddles, the unfortunate clothes
+mender having to lead the first rank; there is no time to turn the
+unlucky garment, so he slips it on, as well as he can, wrong side out,
+and leaps upon his horse, without even stopping to put on his boots.
+
+A party of Cossacks, profiting by the cover of a neighboring wood, had
+attempted to surprise the detachment: the fight was bloody, and our hero
+foamed with rage, for he set much value on his equipments, and the day
+had been fatal to him. Thinking of his torn clothes and lost boots, he
+hacked away with more fury than ever; a bright moon illumined the scene
+of action, and his comrades were able to appreciate the brilliant valor
+of our grenadier, who killed two Cossacks, and took an officer prisoner,
+with his own hand.
+
+After this skirmish, in which the detachment had maintained its
+position, the captain drew up his men to compliment them on their
+success, and ordered the clothes-mender to advance from the ranks, that
+he might thank him publicly for his gallant behavior. Our hero could
+have dispensed with this ovation, but he was not the less obliged to
+obey.
+
+Judge of the surprise of both captain and troopers, when they saw this
+tall and stern-looking figure ride forward at a slow pace, with his
+naked feet in the stirrups, and naked legs pressing the sides of his
+charger.
+
+The captain drew near in astonishment; but recalling the occupation of
+the soldier at the moment when the alarm was given, he understood the
+whole mystery. "Ha, my old comrade!" he exclaimed, "thou art like King
+Dagobert--wearing thy breeches inside out."
+
+In spite of discipline, this joke of the captain's was received with
+peals of ill-repressed laughter. But our friend, sitting upright in his
+saddle, with his left thumb pressing the well adjusted reins, and his
+sword-hilt carried close to his right thigh, made a half-wheel, and
+returned to his place in the ranks without changing countenance, after
+he had duly received the congratulations of his captain. From that day,
+Francis Baudoin received and kept the nickname of Dagobert.
+
+Now Dagobert was under the porch of the inn, occupied in washing, to the
+great amazement of sundry beer-drinkers, who observed him with curious
+eyes from the large common room in which they were assembled.
+
+In truth, it was a curious spectacle. Dagobert had laid aside his gray
+top-coat, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt; with a vigorous hand,
+and good supply of soap, he was rubbing away at a wet handkerchief,
+spread out on the board, the end of which rested in a tub full of
+water. Upon his right arm, tattooed with warlike emblems in red and
+blue colors, two scars, deep enough to admit the finger, were distinctly
+visible. No wonder then, that, while smoking their pipes, and emptying
+their pots of beer, the Germans should display some surprise at the
+singular occupation of this tall, moustached, bald-headed old man, with
+the forbidding countenance--for the features of Dagobert assumed a harsh
+and grim expression, when he was no longer in presence of the two girls.
+
+The sustained attention, of which he saw himself the object, began
+to put him out of patience, for his employment appeared to him quite
+natural. At this moment, the Prophet entered the porch, and, perceiving
+the soldier, eyed him attentively for several seconds; then approaching,
+he said to him in French, in a rather sly tone: "It would seem, comrade,
+that you have not much confidence in the washerwomen of Mockern?"
+
+Dagobert, without discontinuing his work, half turned his head with a
+frown, looked askant at the Prophet, and made him no answer.
+
+Astonished at this silence, Morok resumed: "If I do not deceive myself,
+you are French, my fine fellow. The words on your arm prove it, and your
+military air stamps you as an old soldier of the Empire. Therefore I
+find, that, for a hero, you have taken rather late to wear petticoats."
+
+Dagobert remained mute, but he gnawed his moustache, and plied the soap,
+with which he was rubbing the linen, in a most hurried, not to say angry
+style; for the face and words of the beast-tamer displeased him
+more than he cared to show. Far from being discouraged, the Prophet
+continued: "I am sure, my fine fellow, that you are neither deaf nor
+dumb; why, then, will you not answer me?"
+
+Losing all patience, Dagobert turned abruptly round, looked Morok full
+in the face, and said to him in a rough voice: "I don't know you: I
+don't wish to know you! Chain up your curb!" And he betook himself again
+to his washing.
+
+"But we may make acquaintance. We can drink a glass of Rhine-wine
+together, and talk of our campaigns. I also have seen some service, I
+assure you; and that, perhaps, will induce you to be more civil."
+
+The veins on the bald forehead of Dagobert swelled perceptibly; he saw
+in the look and accent of the man, who thus obstinately addressed him,
+something designedly provoking; still he contained himself.
+
+"I ask you, why should you not drink a glass of wine with me--we could
+talk about France. I lived there a long time; it is a fine country; and
+when I meet Frenchmen abroad, I feel sociable--particularly when they
+know how to use the soap as well as you do. If I had a housewife I'd
+send her to your school."
+
+The sarcastic meaning was no longer disguised; impudence and bravado
+were legible in the Prophet's looks. Thinking that, with such an
+adversary, the dispute might become serious, Dagobert, who wished to
+avoid a quarrel at any price, carried off his tub to the other end of
+the porch, hoping thus to put an end to the scene which was a sore
+trial of his temper. A flash of joy lighted up the tawny eyes of the
+brute-tamer. The white circle, which surrounded the pupil seemed to
+dilate. He ran his crooked fingers two or three times through his yellow
+beard, in token of satisfaction; then he advanced slowly towards the
+soldier, accompanied by several idlers from the common-room.
+
+Notwithstanding his coolness, Dagobert, amazed and incensed at the
+impudent pertinacity of the Prophet, was at first disposed to break
+the washing-board on his head; but, remembering the orphans, he thought
+better of it.
+
+Folding his arms upon his breast, Morok said to him, in a dry and
+insolent tone: "It is very certain you are not civil, my man of suds!"
+Then, turning to the spectators, he continued in German: "I tell this
+Frenchman, with his long moustache, that he is not civil. We shall
+see what answer he'll make. Perhaps it will be necessary to give him
+a lesson. Heaven preserve me from quarrels!" he added, with mock
+compunction; "but the Lord has enlightened me--I am his creature, and I
+ought to make his work respected."
+
+The mystical effrontery of this peroration was quite to the taste of
+the idlers; the fame of the Prophet had reached Mockern, and, as a
+performance was expected on the morrow, this prelude much amused the
+company. On hearing the insults of his adversary, Dagobert could not
+help saying in the German language: "I know German. Speak in German--the
+rest will understand you."
+
+New spectators now arrived, and joined the first comers; the adventure
+had become exciting, and a ring was formed around the two persons most
+concerned.
+
+The Prophet resumed in German: "I said that you were not civil, and I
+now say you are grossly rude. What do you answer to that?"
+
+"Nothing!" said Dagobert, coldly, as he proceeded to rinse out another
+piece of linen.
+
+"Nothing!" returned Morok; "that is very little. I will be less brief,
+and tell you, that, when an honest man offers a glass of wine civilly
+to a stranger, that stranger has no right to answer with insolence, and
+deserves to be taught manners if he does so."
+
+Great drops of sweat ran down Dagobert's forehead and cheeks; his
+large imperial was incessantly agitated by nervous trembling--but he
+restrained himself. Taking, by two of the corners, the handkerchief
+which he had just dipped in the water, he shook it, wrung it, and began
+to hum to himself the burden of the old camp ditty:
+
+     "Out of Tirlemont's flea-haunted den,
+     We ride forth next day of the sen,
+     With sabre in hand, ah!
+     Good-bye to Amanda," etc.
+
+The silence to which Dagobert had condemned himself, almost choked him;
+this song afforded him some relief.
+
+Morok, turning towards the spectators, said to them, with an air of
+hypocritical restraint: "We knew that the soldiers of Napoleon were
+pagans, who stabled their horses in churches, and offended the Lord a
+hundred times a day, and who, for their sins, were justly drowned in the
+Beresino, like so many Pharaohs; but we did not know that the Lord,
+to punish these miscreants, had deprived them of courage--their single
+gift. Here is a man, who has insulted, in me, a creature favored by
+divine grace, and who affects not to understand that I require an
+apology; or else--"
+
+"What?" said Dagobert, without looking at the Prophet.
+
+"Or you must give me satisfaction!--I have already told you that I have
+seen service. We shall easily find somewhere a couple of swords, and to
+morrow morning, at peep of day, we can meet behind a wall, and show the
+color of our blood--that is, if you have any in your veins!"
+
+This challenge began to frighten the spectators, who were not prepared
+for so tragical a conclusion.
+
+"What, fight?--a very, fine idea!" said one. "To get yourself both
+locked up in prison: the laws against duelling are strict."
+
+"Particularly with relation to strangers or nondescripts," added
+another. "If they were to find you with arms in your hands, the
+burgomaster would shut you up in jail, and keep you there two or three
+months before trial."
+
+"Would you be so mean as to denounce us?" asked Morok.
+
+"No, certainly not," cried several; "do as you like. We are only giving
+you a friendly piece of advice, by which you may profit, if you think
+fit."
+
+"What care I for prison?" exclaimed the Prophet. "Only give me a couple
+of swords, and you shall see to-morrow morning if I heed what the
+burgomaster can do or say."
+
+"What would you do with two swords?" asked Dagobert, quietly.
+
+"When you have one in your grasp, and I one in mine, you'd see. The Lord
+commands us to have a care of his honor!"
+
+Dagobert shrugged his shoulders, made a bundle of his linen in his
+handkerchief, dried his soap, and put it carefully into a little
+oil-silk bag--then, whistling his favorite air of Tirlemont, moved to
+depart.
+
+The Prophet frowned; he began to fear that his challenge would not be
+accepted. He advanced a step or so to encounter Dagobert, placed himself
+before him, as if to intercept his passage, and, folding his arms, and
+scanning him from head to foot with bitter insolence, said to him:
+"So! an old soldier of that arch-robber, Napoleon, is only fit for a
+washerwoman, and refuses to fight!"
+
+"Yes, he refuses to fight," answered Dagobert, in a firm voice, but
+becoming fearfully pale. Never, perhaps, had the soldier given to his
+orphan charge such a proof of tenderness and devotion. For a man of
+his character to let himself be insulted with impunity, and refuse to
+fight--the sacrifice was immense.
+
+"So you are a coward--you are afraid of me--and you confess it?"
+
+At these words Dagobert made, as it were, a pull upon himself--as if a
+sudden thought had restrained him the moment he was about to rush on
+the Prophet. Indeed, he had remembered the two maidens, and the fatal
+hindrance which a duel, whatever might be the result, would occasion
+to their journey. But the impulse of anger, though rapid, had been so
+significant--the expression of the stern, pale face, bathed in sweat,
+was so daunting, that the Prophet and the spectators drew back a step.
+
+Profound silence reigned for some seconds, and then, by a sudden
+reaction, Dagobert seemed to have gained the general interest. One of
+the company said to those near him; "This man is clearly not a coward."
+
+"Oh, no! certainly not."
+
+"It sometimes requires more courage to refuse a challenge than to accept
+one."
+
+"After all the Prophet was wrong to pick a quarrel about nothing--and
+with a stranger, too."
+
+"Yes, for a stranger, if he fought and was taken up, would have a good
+long imprisonment."
+
+"And then, you see," added another, "he travels with two young girls.
+In such a position, ought a man to fight about trifles? If he should be
+killed or put in prison, what would become of them, poor children?"
+
+Dagobert turned towards the person who had pronounced these last words.
+He saw a stout fellow, with a frank and simple countenance; the soldier
+offered him his hand, and said with emotion:
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+The German shook cordially the hand, which Dagobert had proffered, and,
+holding it still in his own, he added: "Do one thing, sir--share a bowl
+of punch with us. We will make that mischief-making Prophet acknowledge
+that he has been too touchy, and he shall drink to your health."
+
+Up to this moment the brute-tamer, enraged at the issue of this scene,
+for he had hoped that the soldier would accept his challenge, looked on
+with savage contempt at those who had thus sided against him. But now
+his features gradually relaxed; and, believing it useful to his projects
+to hide his disappointment, he walked up to the soldier, and said to
+him, with a tolerably good grace: "Well, I give way to these gentlemen.
+I own I was wrong. Your frigid air had wounded me, and I was not master
+of myself. I repeat, that I was wrong," he added, with suppressed
+vexation; "the Lord commands humility--and--I beg your pardon."
+
+This proof of moderation and regret was highly appreciated and loudly
+applauded by the spectators. "He asks your pardon; you cannot expect
+more, my brave fellow?" said one of them, addressing Dagobert. "Come,
+let us all drink together; we make you this offer frankly--accept it in
+the same spirit."
+
+"Yes, yes; accept it, we beg you, in the name of your pretty little
+girls," said the stout man, hoping to decide Dagobert by this argument.
+
+"Many thanks, gentlemen," replied he, touched by the hearty advances of
+the Germans; "you are very worthy people. But, when one is treated, he
+must offer drink in return."
+
+"Well, we will accept it--that's understood. Each his turn, and all
+fair. We will pay for the first bowl, you for the second."
+
+"Poverty is no crime," answered Dagobert; "and I must tell you honestly
+that I cannot afford to pay for drink. We have still a long journey to
+go, and I must not incur any useless expenses."
+
+The soldier spoke these words with such firm, but simple dignity, that
+the Germans did not venture to renew their offer, feeling that a man of
+Dagobert's character could not accept it without humiliation.
+
+"Well, so much the worse," said the stout man. "I should have liked to
+clink glasses with you. Good-night, my brave trooper!--Good-night--for
+it grows late, and mine host of the Falcon will soon turn us out of
+doors."
+
+"Good-night, gentlemen," replied Dagobert, as he directed his steps
+towards the stable, to give his horse a second allowance of provender.
+
+Morok approached him, and said in a voice even more humble than before:
+"I have acknowledged my error, and asked your pardon. You have not
+answered me; do you still bear malice?"
+
+"If ever I meet you," said the veteran, in a suppressed and hollow tone,
+"when my children have no longer need of me, I will just say two words
+to you, and they will not be long ones."
+
+Then he turned his back abruptly on the Prophet, who walked slowly out
+of the yard.
+
+The inn of the White Falcon formed a parallelogram. At one end rose
+the principal dwelling; at the other was a range of buildings, which
+contained sundry chambers, let at a low price to the poorer sort of
+travellers; a vaulted passage opened a way through this latter into
+the country; finally, on either side of the court-yard were sheds and
+stables, with lofts and garrets erected over them.
+
+Dagobert, entering one of these stables, took from off a chest the
+portion of oats destined for his horse, and, pouring it into a winnowing
+basket, shook it as he approached Jovial.
+
+To his great astonishment, his old travelling companion did not respond
+with a joyous neigh to the rustle of the oats rattling on the wicker
+work. Alarmed, he called Jovial with a friendly voice; but the animal,
+instead of turning towards his master a look of intelligence, and
+impatiently striking the ground with his fore-feet, remained perfectly
+motionless.
+
+More and more surprised, the soldier went up to him. By the dubious
+light of a stable-lantern, he saw the poor animal in an attitude which
+implied terror--his legs half bent, his head stretched forward, his ears
+down, his nostrils quivering; he had drawn tight his halter, as if
+he wished to break it, in order to get away from the partition that
+supported his rack and manger; abundant cold-sweat had speckled his hide
+with bluish stains, and his coat altogether looked dull and bristling,
+instead of standing out sleek and glossy from the dark background of
+the stable; lastly, from time to time, his body shook with convulsive
+starts.
+
+"Why, old Jovial!" said the soldier, as he put down the basket, in
+order to soothe his horse with more freedom, "you are like thy
+master--afraid!--Yes," he added with bitterness, as he thought of the
+offence he had himself endured, "you are afraid--though no coward in
+general."
+
+Notwithstanding the caresses and the voice of his master, the horse
+continued to give signs of terror; he pulled somewhat less violently
+at his halter, and approaching his nostrils to the hand of Dagobert,
+sniffed audibly, as if he doubted it were he.
+
+"You don't know me!" cried Dagobert. "Something extraordinary must be
+passing here."
+
+The soldier looked around him with uneasiness. It was a large stable,
+faintly lighted by the lantern suspended from the roof, which was
+covered with innumerable cobwebs; at the further end, separated from
+Jovial by some stalls with bars between, were the three strong, black,
+horses of the brute-tamer--as tranquil as Jovial was frightened.
+
+Dagobert, struck with this singular contrast, of which he was soon
+to have the explanation, again caressed his horse; and the animal,
+gradually reassured by his master's presence, licked his hands, rubbed
+his head against him, uttered a low neigh, and gave him his usual tokens
+of affection.
+
+"Come, come, this is how I like to see my old Jovial!" said Dagobert,
+as he took up the winnowing-basket, and poured its contents into the
+manger. "Now eat with a good appetite, for we have a long day's march
+tomorrow; and, above all, no more of these foolish fears about nothing!
+If thy comrade, Spoil-sport, was here, he would keep you in heart; but
+he is along with the children, and takes care of them in my absence.
+Come, eat! Instead of staring at me in that way."
+
+But the horse, having just touched the oats with his mouth, as if in
+obedience to his master, returned to them no more, and began to nibble
+at the sleeve of Dagobert's coat.
+
+"Come, come, my poor Jovial! there is something the matter with you. You
+have generally such a good appetite, and now you leave your corn. 'Tis
+the first time this has happened since our departure," said the soldier,
+who was now growing seriously uneasy, for the issue of his journey
+greatly depended on the health and vigor of his horse.
+
+Just then a frightful roaring, so near that it seemed to come from the
+stable in which they were, gave so violent a shock to Jovial, that with
+one effort he broke his halter, leaped over the bar that marked his
+place, and rushing at the open door, escaped into the court-yard.
+
+Dagobert had himself started at the suddenness of this wild and fearful
+sound, which at once explained to him the cause of his horse's terror.
+The adjoining stable was occupied by the itinerant menagerie of the
+brute-tamer, and was only separated by the partition, which supported
+the mangers. The three horses of the Prophet, accustomed to these
+howlings, had remained perfectly quiet.
+
+"Good!" said the soldier, recovering himself; "I understand it now.
+Jovial has heard another such roar before, and he can scent the animals
+of that insolent scoundrel. It is enough to frighten him," added he,
+as he carefully collected the oats from the manger; "once in another
+stable, and there must be others in this place, he will no longer leave
+his peck, and we shall be able to start early to-morrow morning!"
+
+The terrified horse, after running and galloping about the yard,
+returned at the voice of the soldier, who easily caught him by the
+broken halter; and a hostler, whom Dagobert asked if there was another
+vacant stable, having pointed out one that was only intended for a
+single animal, Jovial was comfortably installed there.
+
+When delivered from his ferocious neighbors, the horse became tranquil
+as before, and even amused himself much at the expense of Dagobert's
+top coat, which, thanks to his tricks, might have afforded immediate
+occupation for his master's needle, if the latter had not been fully
+engaged in admiring the eagerness with which Jovial dispatched his
+provender. Completely reassured on his account, the soldier shut the
+door of the stable, and proceeded to get his supper as quickly as
+possible, in order to rejoin the orphans, whom he reproached himself
+with having left so long.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. ROSE AND BLANCHE.
+
+The orphans occupied a dilapidated chamber in one of the most remote
+wings of the inn, with a single window opening upon the country. A bed
+without curtains, a table, and two chairs, composed the more than modest
+furniture of this retreat, which was now lighted by a lamp. On the
+table, which stood near the window, was deposited the knapsack of the
+soldier.
+
+The great Siberian dog, who was lying close to the door, had already
+twice uttered a deep growl, and turned his head towards the window--but
+without giving any further affect to this hostile manifestation.
+
+The two sisters, half recumbent in their bed, were clad in long white
+wrappers, buttoned at the neck and wrists. They wore no caps, but their
+beautiful chestnut hair was confined at the temples by a broad piece
+of tape, so that it might not get tangled during the night. These white
+garments, and the white fillet that like a halo encircled their brows,
+gave to their fresh and blooming faces a still more candid expression.
+
+The orphans laughed and chatted, for, in spite of some early sorrows,
+they still retained the ingenuous gayety of their age. The remembrance
+of their mother would sometimes make them sad, but this sorrow had in it
+nothing bitter; it was rather a sweet melancholy, to be sought instead
+of shunned. For them, this adored mother was not dead--she was only
+absent.
+
+Almost as ignorant as Dagobert, with regard to devotional exercises, for
+in the desert where they had lived there was neither church nor priest,
+their faith, as was already said, consisted in this--that God, just and
+good, had so much pity for the poor mothers whose children were left
+on earth, that he allowed them to look down upon them from highest
+heaven--to see them always, to hear them always, and sometimes to
+send fair guardian angels to protect therein. Thanks to this guileless
+illusion, the orphans, persuaded that their mother incessantly watched
+over them, felt, that to do wrong would be to afflict her, and to
+forfeit the protection of the good angels.--This was the entire theology
+of Rose and Blanche--a creed sufficient for such pure and loving souls.
+
+Now, on the evening in question, the two sisters chatted together whilst
+waiting for Dagobert. Their theme interested them much, for, since
+some days, they had a secret, a great secret, which often quickened the
+beatings of their innocent hearts, often agitated their budding bosoms,
+changed to bright scarlet the roses on their cheeks, and infused a
+restless and dreamy langour into the soft blue of their large eyes.
+
+Rose, this evening, occupied the edge of the couch, with her rounded
+arms crossed behind her head, which was half turned towards her sister;
+Blanche, with her elbow resting on the bolster, looked at her smilingly,
+and said: "Do you think he will come again to-night?"
+
+"Oh, yes! certainly. He promised us yesterday."
+
+"He is so good, he would not break his promise."
+
+"And so handsome, with his long fair curls."
+
+"And his name--what a charming name!--How well it suits his face."
+
+"And what a sweet smile and soft voice, when he says to us, taking us by
+the hand: 'My children, bless God that he has given you one soul. What
+others seek elsewhere, you will find in yourselves.'"
+
+"'Since your two hearts,' he added, 'only make one.'"
+
+"What pleasure to remember his words, sister!"
+
+"We are so attentive! When I see you listening to him, it is as if I
+saw myself, my dear little mirror!" said Rose, laughing, and kissing her
+sister's forehead. "Well--when he speaks, your--or rather our eyes--are
+wide, wide open, our lips moving as if we repeated every word after him.
+It is no wonder we forget nothing that he says."
+
+"And what he says is so grand, so noble, and generous."
+
+"Then, my sister, as he goes on talking, what good thoughts rise within
+us! If we could but always keep them in mind."
+
+"Do not be afraid! they will remain in our hearts, like little birds in
+their mother's nests."
+
+"And how lucky it is, Rose, that he loves us both at the same time!"
+
+"He could not do otherwise, since we have but one heart between us."
+
+"How could he love Rose, without loving Blanche?"
+
+"What would have become of the poor, neglected one?"
+
+"And then again he would have found it so difficult to choose."
+
+"We are so much like one another."
+
+"So, to save himself that trouble," said Rose, laughing, "he has chosen
+us both."
+
+"And is it not the best way? He is alone to love us; we are two together
+to think of him."
+
+"Only he must not leave us till we reach Paris."
+
+"And in Paris, too--we must see him there also."
+
+"Oh, above all at Paris; it will be good to have him with us--and
+Dagobert, too--in that great city. Only think, Blanche, how beautiful it
+must be."
+
+"Paris!--it must be like a city all of gold."
+
+"A city, where every one must be happy, since it is so beautiful."
+
+"But ought we, poor orphans, dare so much as to enter it? How people
+will look at us!"
+
+"Yes--but every one there is happy, every one must be good also."
+
+"They will love us."
+
+"And, besides, we shall be with our friend with the fair hair and blue
+eyes."
+
+"He has yet told us nothing of Paris."
+
+"He has not thought of it; we must speak to him about it this very
+night."
+
+"If he is in the mood for talking. Often you know, he likes best to gaze
+on us in silence--his eyes on our eyes."
+
+"Yes. In those moments, his look recalls to me the gaze of our dear
+mother."
+
+"And, as she sees it all, how pleased she must be at what has happened
+to us!"
+
+"Because, when we are so much beloved, we must, I hope, deserve it."
+
+"See what a vain thing it is!" said Blanche, smoothing with her slender
+fingers the parting of the hair on her sister's forehead.
+
+After a moment's reflection, Rose said to her: "Don't you think we
+should relate all this to Dagobert?"
+
+"If you think so, let us do it."
+
+"We tell him everything, as we told everything to mother. Why should we
+conceal this from him?"
+
+"Especially as it is something which gives us so much pleasure."
+
+"Do you not find that, since we have known our friend, our hearts beat
+quicker and stronger?"
+
+"Yes, they seem to be more full."
+
+"The reason why is plain enough; our friend fills up a good space in
+them."
+
+"Well, we will do best to tell Dagobert what a lucky star ours is."
+
+"You are right--" At this moment the dog gave another deep growl.
+
+"Sister," said Rose, as she pressed closer to Blanche, "there is the dog
+growling again. What can be the matter with him?"
+
+"Spoil-sport, do not growl! Come hither," said Blanche, striking with
+her little hand on the side of the bed.
+
+The dog rose, again growled deeply, and came to lay his great,
+intelligent looking head on the counterpane, still obstinately casting
+a sidelong glance at the window; the sisters bent over him to pat
+his broad forehead, in the centre of which was a remarkable bump, the
+certain sign of extreme purity of race.
+
+"What makes you growl so, Spoil-sport?" said Blanche, pulling him gently
+by the ears--"eh, my good dog?"
+
+"Poor beast! he is always so uneasy when Dagobert is away."
+
+"It is true; one would think he knows that he then has a double charge
+over us."
+
+"Sister, it seems to me, Dagobert is late in coming to say good-night."
+
+"No doubt he is attending to Jovial."
+
+"That makes me think that we did not bid good-night to dear old Jovial.
+
+"I am sorry for it."
+
+"Poor beast! he seems so glad when he licks our hands. One would think
+that he thanked us for our visit."
+
+"Luckily, Dagobert will have wished him good-night for us."
+
+"Good Dagobert! he is always thinking of us. How he spoils us! We remain
+idle, and he has all the trouble."
+
+"How can we prevent it?"
+
+"What a pity that we are not rich, to give him a little rest."
+
+"We rich! Alas, my sister! we shall never be anything but poor orphans."
+
+"Oh, there's the medal!"
+
+"Doubtless, there is some hope attached to it, else we should not have
+made this long journey."
+
+"Dagobert has promised to tell us all, this evening."
+
+She was prevented from continuing, for two of the windowpanes flew to
+pieces with a loud crash.
+
+The orphans, with a cry of terror, threw themselves into each other's
+arms, whilst the dog rushed towards the window, barking furiously.
+
+Pale, trembling, motionless with affright, clasping each other in a
+close embrace, the two sisters held their breath; in their extreme fear,
+they durst not even cast their eyes in the direction of the window.
+The dog, with his forepaws resting on the sill, continued to bark with
+violence.
+
+"Alas! what can it be?" murmured the orphans. "And Dagobert not here!"
+
+"Hark!" cried Rose, suddenly seizing Blanche by the arm; "hark!--some
+one coming up the stairs!"
+
+"Good heaven! it does not sound like the tread of Dagobert. Do you not
+hear what heavy footsteps?"
+
+"Quick! come, Spoil-sport, and defend us!" cried the two sisters at
+once, in an agony of alarm.
+
+The boards of the wooden staircase really creaked beneath the weight
+of unusually heavy footsteps, and a singular kind of rustling was
+heard along the thin partition that divided the chamber from the
+landing-place. Then a ponderous mass, falling against the door of the
+room, shook it violently; and the girls, at the very height of terror,
+looked at each other without the power of speech.
+
+The door opened. It was Dagobert.
+
+At the sight of him Rose and Blanche joyfully exchanged a kiss, as if
+they had just escaped from a great danger.
+
+"What is the matter? why are you afraid?" asked the soldier in surprise.
+
+"Oh, if you only knew!" said Rose, panting as she spoke, for both her
+own heart and her sister's beat with violence.
+
+"If you knew what has just happened! We did not recognize your
+footsteps--they seemed so heavy--and then that noise behind the
+partition!"
+
+"Little frightened doves that you are! I could not run up the stairs
+like a boy of fifteen, seeing that I carried my bed upon my back--a
+straw mattress that I have just flung down before your door, to sleep
+there as usual."
+
+"Bless me! how foolish we must be, sister, not to have thought of
+that!" said Rose, looking at Blanche. And their pretty faces, which had
+together grown pale, together resumed their natural color.
+
+During this scene the dog, still resting against the window, did not
+cease barking a moment.
+
+"What makes Spoil-sport bark in that direction, my children?" said the
+soldier.
+
+"We do not know. Two of our windowpanes have just been broken. That is
+what first frightened us so much."
+
+Without answering a word Dagobert flew to the window, opened it quickly,
+pushed back the shutter, and leaned out.
+
+He saw nothing; it was a dark night. He listened; but heard only the
+moaning of the wind.
+
+"Spoil-sport," said he to his dog, pointing to the open window, "leap
+out, old fellow, and search!" The faithful animal took one mighty spring
+and disappeared by the window, raised only about eight feet above the
+ground.
+
+Dagobert, still leaning over, encouraged his dog with voice and gesture:
+"Search, old fellow, search! If there is any one there, pin him--your
+fangs are strong--and hold him fast till I come."
+
+But Spoil-sport found no one. They heard him go backwards and forwards,
+snuffing on every side, and now and then uttering a low cry like a hound
+at fault.
+
+"There is no one, my good dog, that's clear, or you would have had him
+by the throat ere this." Then, turning to the maidens, who listened to
+his words and watched his movements with uneasiness: "My girls," said
+he, "how were these panes broken? Did you not remark?"
+
+"No, Dagobert; we were talking together when we heard a great crash, and
+then the glass fell into the room."
+
+"It seemed to me," added Rose, "as if a shutter had struck suddenly
+against the window."
+
+Dagobert examined the shutter, and observed a long movable hook,
+designed to fasten it on the inside.
+
+"It blows hard," said he; "the wind must have swung round the shutter,
+and this hook broke the window. Yes, yes; that is it. What interest
+could anybody have to play such a sorry trick?" Then, speaking to Spoil
+sport, he asked, "Well, my good fellow, is there no one?"
+
+The dog answered by a bark, which the soldier no doubt understood as a
+negative, for he continued: "Well, then, come back! Make the round--you
+will find some door open--you are never at a loss."
+
+The animal followed this advice. After growling for a few seconds
+beneath the window, he set off at a gallop to make the circuit of the
+buildings, and come back by the court-yard.
+
+"Be quite easy, my children!" said the soldier, as he again drew near
+the orphans; "it was only the wind."
+
+"We were a good deal frightened," said Rose.
+
+"I believe you. But now I think of it, this draught is likely to give
+you cold." And seeking to remedy this inconvenience, he took from a
+chair the reindeer pelisse, and suspended it from the spring-catch
+of the curtainless window, using the skirts to stop up as closely as
+possible the two openings made by the breaking of the panes.
+
+"Thanks, Dagobert, how good you are! We were very uneasy at not seeing
+you."
+
+"Yes, you were absent longer than usual. But what is the matter with
+you?" added Rose, only just then perceiving that his countenance was
+disturbed and pallid, for he was still under the painful influence of
+the brawl with Morok; "how pale you are!"
+
+"Me, my pets?--Oh, nothing."
+
+"Yes, I assure you, your countenance is quite changed. Rose is right."
+
+"I tell you there is nothing the matter," answered the soldier, not
+without some embarrassment, for he was little used to deceive; till,
+finding an excellent excuse for his emotion, he added: "If I do look at
+all uncomfortable, it is your fright that has made me so, for indeed it
+was my fault."
+
+"Your fault!"
+
+"Yes; for if I had not lost so much time at supper, I should have been
+here when the window was broken, and have spared you the fright."
+
+"Anyhow, you are here now, and we think no more of it."
+
+"Why don't you sit down?"
+
+"I will, my children, for we have to talk together," said Dagobert, as
+he drew a chair close to the head of the bed.
+
+"Now tell me, are you quite awake?" he added, trying to smile in order
+to reassure them. "Are those large eyes properly open?"
+
+"Look, Dagobert!" cried the two girls, smiling in their turn, and
+opening their blue eyes to the utmost extent.
+
+"Well, well," said the soldier, "they are yet far enough, from shutting;
+besides, it is only nine o'clock."
+
+"We also have something to tell, Dagobert," resumed Rose, after
+exchanging glances with her sister.
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"A secret to tell you."
+
+"A secret?"
+
+"Yes, to be sure."
+
+"Ah, and a very great secret!" added Rose, quite seriously.
+
+"A secret which concerns us both," resumed Blanche.
+
+"Faith! I should think so. What concerns the one always concerns the
+other. Are you not always, as the saying goes, 'two faces under one
+hood?'"
+
+"Truly, how can it be otherwise, when you put our heads under the great
+hood of your pelisse?" said Rose, laughing.
+
+"There they are again, mocking-birds! One never has the last word with
+them. Come, ladies, your secret, since a secret there is."
+
+"Speak, sister," said Rose.
+
+"No, miss, it is for you to speak. You are to-day on duty, as eldest,
+and such an important thing as telling a secret like that you talk of
+belongs of right to the elder sister. Come, I am listening to you,"
+added the soldier, as he forced a smile, the better to conceal from
+the maidens how much he still felt the unpunished affronts of the brute
+tamer.
+
+It was Rose (who, as Dagobert said, was doing duty as eldest) that spoke
+for herself and for her sister.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. THE SECRET.
+
+"First of all, good Dagobert," said Rose, in a gracefully caressing
+manner, "as we are going to tell our secret--you must promise not to
+scold us."
+
+"You will not scold your darlings, will you?" added Blanche, in a no
+less coaxing voice.
+
+"Granted!" replied Dagobert gravely; "particularly as I should not well
+know how to set about it--but why should I scold you."
+
+"Because we ought perhaps to have told you sooner what we are going to
+tell you."
+
+"Listen, my children," said Dagobert sententiously, after reflecting a
+moment on this case of conscience; "one of two things must be. Either
+you were right, or else you were wrong, to hide this from me. If you
+were right, very well; if you were wrong, it is done: so let's say no
+more about it. Go on--I am all attention."
+
+Completely reassured by this luminous decision, Rose resumed, while she
+exchanged a smile with her sister.
+
+"Only think, Dagobert; for two successive nights we have had a visitor."
+
+"A visitor!" cried the soldier, drawing himself up suddenly in his
+chair.
+
+"Yes, a charming visitor--he is so very fair."
+
+"Fair--the devil!" cried Dagobert, with a start.
+
+"Yes, fair--and with blue eyes," added Blanche.
+
+"Blue eyes--blue devils!" and Dagobert again bounded on his seat.
+
+"Yes, blue eyes--as long as that," resumed Rose, placing the tip of one
+forefinger about the middle of the other.
+
+"Zounds! they might be as long as that," said the veteran, indicating
+the whole length of his term from the elbow, "they might be as long as
+that, and it would have nothing to do with it. Fair, and with blue eyes.
+Pray what may this mean, young ladies?" and Dagobert rose from his seat
+with a severe and painfully unquiet look.
+
+"There now, Dagobert, you have begun to scold us already."
+
+"Just at the very commencement," added Blanche.
+
+"Commencement!--what, is there to be a sequel? a finish?"
+
+"A finish? we hope not," said Rose, laughing like mad.
+
+"All we ask is, that it should last forever," added Blanche, sharing in
+the hilarity of her sister.
+
+Dagobert looked gravely from one to the other of the two maidens, as if
+trying to guess this enigma; but when he saw their sweet, innocent faces
+gracefully animated by a frank, ingenuous laugh, he reflected that they
+would not be so gay if they had any serious matter for self-reproach,
+and he felt pleased at seeing them so merry in the midst of their
+precarious position.
+
+"Laugh on, my children!" he said. "I like so much to see you laugh."
+
+Then, thinking that was not precisely the way in which he ought to treat
+the singular confession of the young girls, he added in a gruff voice:
+"Yes, I like to see you laugh--but not when you receive fair visitors
+with blue eyes, young ladies!--Come, acknowledge that I'm an old fool to
+listen to such nonsense--you are only making game of me."
+
+"Nay, what we tell you is quite true."
+
+"You know we never tell stories," added Rose.
+
+"They are right--they never fib," said the soldier, in renewed
+perplexity.
+
+"But how the devil is such a visit possible? I sleep before your
+door--Spoil-sport sleeps under your window--and all the blue eyes and
+fair locks in the world must come in by one of those two ways--and, if
+they had tried it, the dog and I, who have both of us quick ears, would
+have received their visits after our fashion. But come, children! pray,
+speak to the purpose. Explain yourselves!"
+
+The two sisters, who saw, by the expression of Dagobert's countenance,
+that he felt really uneasy, determined no longer to trifle with his
+kindness. They exchanged a glance, and Rose, taking in her little hand
+the coarse, broad palm of the veteran, said to him: "Come, do not plague
+yourself! We will tell you all about the visits of our friend, Gabriel."
+
+"There you are again!--He has a name, then?"
+
+"Certainly, he has a name. It is Gabriel."
+
+"Is it not a pretty name, Dagobert? Oh, you will see and love, as we do,
+our beautiful Gabriel!"
+
+"I'll love your beautiful Gabriel, will I?" said the veteran, shaking
+his head--"Love your beautiful Gabriel?--that's as it may be. I must
+first know--" Then, interrupting himself, he added: "It is queer. That
+reminds me of something."
+
+"Of what, Dagobert?"
+
+"Fifteen years ago, in the last letter that your father, on his return
+from France, brought me from my wife: she told me that, poor as she was,
+and with our little growing Agricola on her hands, she had taken in
+a poor deserted child, with the face of a cherub, and the name of
+Gabriel--and only a short time since I heard of him again."
+
+"And from whom, then?"
+
+"You shall know that by and by."
+
+"Well, then--since you have a Gabriel of your own--there is the more
+reason that you should love ours."
+
+"Yours! but who is yours? I am on thorns till you tell me."
+
+"You know, Dagobert," resumed Rose, "that Blanche and I are accustomed
+to fall asleep, holding each other by the hand."
+
+"Yes, yes, I have often seen you in your cradle. I was never tired of
+looking at you; it was so pretty."
+
+"Well, then--two nights ago, we had just fallen asleep, when we
+beheld--"
+
+"Oh, it was in a dream!" cried Dagobert. "Since you were asleep, it was
+in a dream!"
+
+"Certainly, in a dream--how else would you have it?"
+
+"Pray let my sister go on with her tale!"
+
+"All, well and good!" said the soldier with a sigh of satisfaction;
+"well and good! To be sure, I was tranquil enough in any
+case--because--but still--I like it better to be a dream. Continue, my
+little Rose."
+
+"Once asleep, we both dreamt the same thing."
+
+"What! both the same?"
+
+"Yes, Dagobert; for the next morning when we awoke we related our two
+dreams to each other."
+
+"And they were exactly alike."
+
+"That's odd enough, my children; and what was this dream all about?"
+
+"In our dream, Blanche and I were seated together, when we saw enter a
+beautiful angel, with a long white robe, fair locks, blue eyes, and so
+handsome and benign a countenance, that we elapsed our hands as if
+to pray to him. Then he told us, in a soft voice, that he was called
+Gabriel; that our mother had sent him to be our guardian angel, and that
+he would never abandon us."
+
+"And, then," added Blanche, "he took us each by the hand, and, bending
+his fair face over us, looked at us for a long time in silence, with
+so much goodness--with so much goodness, that we could not withdraw our
+eyes from his."
+
+"Yes," resumed Rose, "and his look seemed, by turns, to attract us, or
+to go to our hearts. At length, to our great sorrow, Gabriel quitted us,
+having told us that we should see him again the following night."
+
+"And did he make his appearance?"
+
+"Certainly. Judge with what impatience we waited the moment of sleep, to
+see if our friend would return, and visit us in our slumbers."
+
+"Humph!" said Dagobert, scratching his forehead; "this reminds me, young
+ladies, that you kept on rubbing your eyes last evening, and pretending
+to be half asleep. I wager, it was all to send me away the sooner, and
+to get to your dream as fast as possible."
+
+"Yes, Dagobert."
+
+"The reason being, you could not say to me, as you would to Spoil-sport:
+Lie down, Dagobert! Well--so your friend Gabriel came back?"
+
+"Yes, and this time he talked to us a great deal, and gave us, in the
+name of our mother, such touching, such noble counsels, that the next
+day, Rose and I spent our whole time in recalling every word of our
+guardian angel--and his face, and his look--"
+
+"This reminds me again, young ladies, that you were whispering all along
+the road this morning; and that when I spoke of white, you answered
+black."
+
+"Yes, Dagobert, we were thinking of Gabriel."
+
+"And, ever since, we love him as well as he loves us."
+
+"But he is only one between both of you!"
+
+"Was not our mother one between us?"
+
+"And you, Dagobert--are you not also one for us both?"
+
+"True, true! And yet, do you know, I shall finish by being jealous of
+that Gabriel?"
+
+"You are our friend by day--he is our friend by night."
+
+"Let's understand it clearly. If you talk of him all day, and dream of
+him all night, what will there remain for me?"
+
+"There will remain for you your two orphans, whom you love so much,"
+said Rose.
+
+"And who have only you left upon earth," added Blanche, in a caressing
+tongue.
+
+"Humph! humph! that's right, coax the old man over, Nay, believe me, my
+children," added the soldier, tenderly, "I am quite satisfied with my
+lot. I can afford to let you have your Gabriel. I felt sure that Spoil
+sport and myself could take our rest in quiet. After all, there is
+nothing so astonishing in what you tell me; your first dream struck your
+fancy, and you talked so much about it that you had a second; nor should
+I be surprised if you were to see this fine fellow a third time."
+
+"Oh, Dagobert! do not make a jest of it! They are only dreams, but
+we think our mother sends them to us. Did she not tell us that orphan
+children were watched over by guardian angels? Well, Gabriel is our
+guardian angel; he will protect us, and he will protect you also."
+
+"Very kind of him to think of me; but you see, my dear children, for the
+matter of defence, I prefer the dog; he is less fair than your angel,
+but he has better teeth, and that is more to be depended on."
+
+"How provoking you are, Dagobert--always jesting!"
+
+"It is true; you can laugh at everything."
+
+"Yes, I am astonishingly gay; I laugh with my teeth shut, in the style
+of old Jovial. Come, children, don't scold me: I know I am wrong. The
+remembrance of your dear mother is mixed with this dream, and you do
+well to speak of it seriously. Besides," added he, with a grave air,
+"dreams will sometimes come true. In Spain, two of the Empress's
+dragoons, comrades of mine, dreamt, the night before their death, that
+they would be poisoned by the monks--and so it happened. If you continue
+to dream of this fair angel Gabriel, it is--it is--why, it is, because
+you are amused by it; and, as you have none too many pleasures in the
+daytime, you may as well get an agreeable sleep at night. But, now, my
+children, I have also much to tell you; it will concern your mother;
+promise me not to be sad."
+
+"Be satisfied! when we think of her we are not sad, though serious."
+
+"That is well. For fear of grieving you, I have always delayed the
+moment of telling what your poor mother would have confided to you as
+soon as you were no longer children. But she died before she had time to
+do so, and that which I have to tell broke her heart--as it nearly
+did mine. I put off this communication as long as I could, taking for
+pretext that I would say nothing till we came to the field of battle
+where your father was made prisoner. That gave me time; but the moment
+is now come; I can shuffle it off no longer."
+
+"We listen, Dagobert," responded the two maidens, with an attentive and
+melancholy air.
+
+After a moment's silence, during which he appeared to reflect, the
+veteran thus addressed the young girls:
+
+"Your father, General Simon, was the son of a workman, who remained a
+workman; for, notwithstanding all that the general could say or do, the
+old man was obstinate in not quitting his trade. He had a heart of gold
+and a head of iron, just like his son. You may suppose, my children,
+that when your father, who had enlisted as a private soldier, became a
+general and a count of the empire, it was not without toil or without
+glory."
+
+"A count of the Empire! what is that, Dagobert?"
+
+"Flummery--a title, which the Emperor gave over and above the promotion,
+just for the sake of saying to the people, whom he loved because he was
+one of them: Here, children! You wish to play at nobility! You shall be
+nobles. You wish to play at royalty! You shall be kings. Take what you
+like--nothing is too good for you--enjoy yourselves!"
+
+"Kings!" said the two girls, joining their hands in admiration.
+
+"Kings of the first water. Oh, he was no niggard of his crowns, our
+Emperor! I had a bed-fellow of mine, a brave soldier, who was afterwards
+promoted to be king. This flattered us; for, if it was not one, it was
+the other. And so, at this game, your father became count; but, count or
+not, he was one of the best and bravest generals of the army."
+
+"He was handsome, was he not, Dagobert?--mother always said so."
+
+"Oh, yes! indeed he was--but quite another thing from your fair guardian
+angel. Picture to yourself a fine, dark man, who looked splendid in his
+full uniform, and could put fire into the soldiers' hearts. With him to
+lead, we would have charged up into Heaven itself--that is, if Heaven
+had, permitted it," added Dagobert, not wishing to wound in any way the
+religious beliefs of the orphans.
+
+"And father was as good as he was brave, Dagobert."
+
+"Good, my children? Yes, I should say so!--He could bend a horse-shoe in
+his hand as you would bend a card, and the day he was taken prisoner
+he had cut down the Prussian artillerymen on their very cannon. With
+strength and courage like that, how could he be otherwise than good? It
+is then about nineteen years ago, not far from this place--on the spot
+I showed you before we arrived at the village--that the general,
+dangerously wounded, fell from his horse. I was following him at
+the time, and ran to his assistance. Five minutes after we were made
+prisoners--and by whom think you?--by a Frenchman."
+
+"A Frenchman?"
+
+"Yes, an emigrant marquis, a colonel in the service of Russia," answered
+Dagobert, with bitterness. "And so, when this marquis advanced towards
+us, and said to the general: 'Surrender, sir, to a countryman!'--'A
+Frenchman, who fights against France,' replied the general, 'is no
+longer my countryman; he is a traitor, and I'd never surrender to a
+traitor!' And, wounded though he was, he dragged himself up to a Russian
+grenadier, and delivered him his sabre, saying: 'I surrender to you my
+brave fellow!' The marquis became pale with rage at it."
+
+The orphans looked at each other with pride, and a rich crimson mantled
+their cheeks, as they exclaimed: "Oh, our brave father!"
+
+"Ah, those children," said Dagobert, as he proudly twirled his
+moustache. "One sees they have soldier's blood in their veins! Well,"
+he continued, "we were now prisoners. The general's last horse had been
+killed under him; and, to perform the journey, he mounted Jovial, who
+had not been wounded that day. We arrived at Warsaw, and there it was
+that the general first saw your mother. She was called the Pearl of
+Warsaw; that is saying everything. Now he, who admired all that is good
+and beautiful, fell in love with her almost immediately; and she loved
+him in return; but her parents had promised her to another--and that
+other was the same--"
+
+Dagobert was unable to proceed. Rose uttered a piercing cry, and pointed
+in terror to the window.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE TRAVELER.
+
+Upon the cry of the young girl, Dagobert rose abruptly.
+
+"What is the matter, Rose?"
+
+"There--there!" she said, pointing to the window. "I thought I saw a
+hand move the pelisse."
+
+She had not concluded these words before Dagobert rushed to the window
+and opened it, tearing down the mantle, which had been suspended from
+the fastening.
+
+It was still dark night, and the wind was blowing hard. The soldier
+listened, but could hear nothing.
+
+Returning to fetch the lamp from the table, he shaded the flame with
+his hand, and strove to throw the light outside. Still he saw nothing.
+Persuaded that a gust of wind had disturbed and shaken the pelisse: and
+that Rose had been deceived by her own fears he again shut the window.
+
+"Be satisfied, children! The wind is very high; it is that which lifted
+the corner of the pelisse."
+
+"Yet methought I saw plainly the fingers which had hold of it," said
+Rose, still trembling.
+
+"I was looking at Dagobert," said Blanche, "and I saw nothing."
+
+"There was nothing to see, my children; the thing is clear enough. The
+window is at least eight feet above the ground; none but a giant could
+reach it without a ladder. Now, had any one used a ladder, there would
+not have been time to remove it; for, as soon as Rose cried out, I ran
+to the window, and, when I held out the light, I could see nothing."
+
+"I must have been deceived," said Rose.
+
+"You may be sure, sister, it was only the wind," added Blanche.
+
+"Then I beg pardon for having disturbed you, my good Dagobert."
+
+"Never mind!" replied the soldier musingly, "I am only sorry that Spoil
+sport is not come back. He would have watched the window, and that would
+have quite tranquillized you. But he no doubt scented the stable of his
+comrade, Jovial, and will have called in to bid him good-night on the
+road. I have half a mind to go and fetch him."
+
+"Oh, no, Dagobert! do not leave us alone," cried the maidens; "we are
+too much afraid."
+
+"Well, the dog is not likely to remain away much longer, and I am sure
+we shall soon hear him scratching at the door, so we will continue our
+story," said Dagobert, as he again seated himself near the head of the
+bed, but this time with his face towards the window.
+
+"Now the general was prisoner at Warsaw," continued he, "and in love
+with your mother, whom they wished to marry to another. In 1814, we
+learned the finish of the war, the banishment of the Emperor to the Isle
+of Elba, and the return of the Bourbons. In concert with the Prussians
+and Russians, who had brought them back, they had exiled the Emperor.
+Learning all this, your mother said to the general: 'The war is
+finished; you are free, but your Emperor is in trouble. You owe
+everything to him; go and join him in his misfortunes. I know not when
+we shall meet again, but I shall never marry any one but you, I am yours
+till death!'--Before he set out the general called me to him, and said:
+'Dagobert, remain here; Mademoiselle Eva may have need of you to
+fly from her family, if they should press too hard upon her; our
+correspondence will have to pass through your hands; at Paris, I shall
+see your wife and son; I will comfort them, and tell them you are my
+friend.'"
+
+"Always the same," said Rose, with emotion, as she looked affectionately
+at Dagobert.
+
+"As faithful to the father and mother as to their children," added
+Blanche.
+
+"To love one was to love them all," replied the soldier. "Well, the
+general joined the Emperor at Elba; I remained at Warsaw, concealed in
+the neighborhood of your mother's house; I received the letters, and
+conveyed them to her clandestinely. In one of those letters--I feel
+proud to tell you of it my children--the general informed me that the
+Emperor himself had remembered me."
+
+"What, did he know you?"
+
+"A little, I flatter myself--'Oh! Dagobert!' said he to your father,
+who was talking to him about me; 'a horse-grenadier of my old guard--a
+soldier of Egypt and Italy, battered with wounds--an old dare-devil,
+whom I decorated with my own hand at Wagram--I have not forgotten
+him!'--I vow, children, when your mother read that to me, I cried like a
+fool."
+
+"The Emperor--what a fine golden face he has on the silver cross with
+the red ribbon that you would sometimes show us when we behaved well."
+
+"That cross--given by him--is my relic. It is there in my knapsack, with
+whatever we have of value--our little purse and papers. But, to return
+to your mother; it was a great consolation to her, when I took her
+letters from the general, or talked with her about him--for she suffered
+much--oh, so much! In vain her parents tormented and persecuted her;
+she always answered: 'I will never marry any one but General Simon.' A
+spirited woman, I can tell you--resigned, but wonderfully courageous.
+One day she received a letter from the general; he had left the Isle of
+Elba with the Emperor; the war had again broken out, a short campaign,
+but as fierce as ever, and heightened by soldiers' devotion. In that
+campaign of France; my children, especially at Montmirail, your father
+fought like a lion, and his division followed his example it was no
+longer valor--it was frenzy. He told me that, in Champagne, the peasants
+killed so many of those Prussians, that their fields were manured with
+them for years. Men, women, children, all rushed upon them. Pitchforks,
+stones, mattocks, all served for the slaughter. It was a true wolf
+hunt!"
+
+The veins swelled on the soldier's forehead, and his cheeks flushed as
+he spoke, for this popular heroism recalled to his memory the sublime
+enthusiasm of the wars of the republic--those armed risings of a whole
+people, from which dated the first steps of his military career, as the
+triumphs of the Empire were the last days of his service.
+
+The orphans, too, daughters of a soldier and a brave woman, did not
+shrink from the rough energy of these words, but felt their cheeks glow,
+and their hearts beat tumultuously.
+
+"How happy we are to be the children of so brave a father!" cried
+Blanche.
+
+"It is a happiness and an honor too, my children--for the evening of the
+battle of Montmirail, the Emperor, to the joy of the whole army, made
+your father Duke of Ligny and Marshal of France."
+
+"Marshal of France!" said Rose in astonishment, without understanding
+the exact meaning of the words.
+
+"Duke of Ligny!" added Blanche with equal surprise.
+
+"Yes; Peter Simon, the son of a workman, became duke and marshal--there
+is nothing higher except a king!" resumed Dagobert, proudly. "That's how
+the Emperor treated the sons of the people, and, therefore, the people
+were devoted to him. It was all very fine to tell them 'Your Emperor
+makes you food for cannon.' 'Stuff!' replied the people, who are no
+fools, 'another would make us food for misery. We prefer the cannon,
+with the chance of becoming captain or colonel, marshal, king--or
+invalid; that's better than to perish with hunger, cold, and age, on
+straw in a garret, after toiling forty years for others.'"
+
+"Even in France--even in Paris, that beautiful city--do you mean to say
+there are poor people who die of hunger and misery, Dagobert?"
+
+"Even in Paris? Yes, my children; therefore, I come back to the point,
+the cannon is better. With it, one has the chance of becoming, like your
+father, duke and marshal: when I say duke and marshal, I am partly right
+and partly wrong, for the title and the rank were not recognized in
+the end; because, after Montmirail, came a day of gloom, a day of great
+mourning, when, as the general has told me, old soldiers like myself
+wept--yes, wept!--on the evening of a battle. That day, my children, was
+Waterloo!"
+
+There was in these simple words of Dagobert an expression of such deep
+sorrow, that it thrilled the hearts of the orphans.
+
+"Alas!" resumed the soldier, with a sigh, "there are days which seem
+to have a curse on them. That same day, at Waterloo, the general fell,
+covered with wounds, at the head of a division of the Guards. When he
+was nearly cured, which was not for a long time, he solicited permission
+to go to St. Helena--another island at the far end of the world, to
+which the English had carried the Emperor, to torture him at their
+leisure; for if he was very fortunate in the first instance, he had to
+go through a deal of hard rubs at last, my poor children."
+
+"If you talk in that way, you will make us cry, Dagobert."
+
+"There is cause enough for it--the Emperor suffered so much! He bled
+cruelly at the heart believe me. Unfortunately, the general was not with
+him at St. Helena; he would have been one more to console him; but
+they would not allow him to go. Then, exasperated, like so many others,
+against the Bourbons, the general engaged in a conspiracy to recall the
+son of the Emperor. He relied especially on one regiment, nearly all
+composed of his old soldiers, and he went down to a place in Picardy,
+where they were then in garrison; but the conspiracy had already been
+divulged. Arrested the moment of his arrival, the general was taken
+before the colonel of the regiment. And this colonel," said the soldier,
+after a brief pause, "who do you think it was again? Bah! it would be
+too long to tell you all, and would only make you more sad; but it was
+a man whom your father had many reasons to hate. When he found himself
+face to face with him, he said: 'if you are not a coward, you will give
+me one hour's liberty, and we will fight to the death; I hate you for
+this, I despise you for that'--and so on. The colonel accepted the
+challenge, and gave your father his liberty till the morrow. The duel
+was a desperate one; the colonel was left for dead on the spot."
+
+"Merciful heaven!"
+
+"The general was yet wiping his sword, when a faithful friend came to
+him, and told him he had only just time to save himself. In fact, he
+happily succeeded in leaving France--yes, happily--for a fortnight
+after, he was condemned to death as a conspirator."
+
+"What misfortunes, good heaven!"
+
+"There was some luck, however, in the midst of his troubles. Your mother
+had kept her promise bravely, and was still waiting for him. She had
+written to him: 'The Emperor first, and me next!' both unable to do
+anything more for the Emperor, nor even for his son, the general,
+banished from France, set out for Warsaw. Your mother had lost her
+parents, and was now free; they were married--and I am one of the
+witnesses to the marriage."
+
+"You are right, Dagobert; that was great happiness in the midst of great
+misfortunes!"
+
+"Yes, they were very happy; but, as it happened with all good hearts,
+the happier they were themselves, the more they felt for the sorrows
+of others--and there was quite enough to grieve them at Warsaw. The
+Russians had again begun to treat the Poles as their slaves; your brave
+mother, though of French origin, was a Pole in heart and soul; she spoke
+out boldly what others did not dare speak in a whisper, and all the
+unfortunate called her their protecting angel. That was enough to
+excite the suspicions of the Russian governor. One day, a friend of the
+general's, formerly a colonel in the lancers, a brave and worthy man,
+was condemned to be exiled to Siberia for a military plot against the
+Russians. He took refuge in your father's house, and lay hid there; but
+his retreat was discovered. During the next night, a party of Cossacks,
+commanded by an officer, and followed by a travelling-carriage, arrive
+at our door; they rouse the general from his sleep and take him away
+with them."
+
+"Oh, heaven! what did they mean to do with him?"
+
+"Conduct him out of the Russian dominions, with a charge never to
+return, on pain of perpetual imprisonment. His last words were:
+'Dagobert, I entrust to thee my wife and child!'--for it wanted yet some
+months of the time when you were to be born. Well, notwithstanding that,
+they exiled your mother to Siberia; it was an opportunity to get rid of
+her; she did too much good at Warsaw, and they feared her accordingly.
+Not content with banishing her, they confiscated all her property; the
+only favor she could obtain was, that I should accompany her, and, had
+it not been for Jovial, whom the general had given to me, she would have
+had to make the journey on foot. It was thus, with her on horseback,
+and I leading her as I lead you, my children, that we arrived at the
+poverty-stricken village, where, three months after, you poor little
+things were born!"
+
+"And our father?"
+
+"It was impossible for him to return to Russia; impossible for your
+mother to think of flight, with two children; impossible for the general
+to write to her, as he knew not where she was."
+
+"So, since that time, you have had no news of him?"
+
+"Yes, my children--once we had news."
+
+"And by whom?"
+
+After a moment's silence, Dagobert resumed with a singular expression of
+countenance: "By whom?--by one who is not like other men. Yes--that
+you may understand me better, I will relate to you an extraordinary
+adventure, which happened to your father during his last French
+campaign. He had been ordered by the Emperor to carry a battery, which
+was playing heavily on our army; after several unsuccessful efforts,
+the general put himself at the head of a regiment of cuirassiers, and
+charged the battery, intending, as was his custom, to cut down the men
+at their guns. He was on horseback, just before the mouth of a cannon,
+where all the artillerymen had been either killed or wounded, when one
+of them still found strength to raise himself upon one knee, and to
+apply the lighted match to the touchhole--and that when your father was
+about ten paces in front of the loaded piece."
+
+"Oh! what a peril for our father!"
+
+"Never, he told me, had he run such imminent danger for he saw the
+artilleryman apply the match, and the gun go off--but, at the very nick,
+a man of tall stature, dressed as a peasant, and whom he had not before
+remarked, threw himself in front of the cannon."
+
+"Unfortunate creature! what a horrible death!"
+
+"Yes," said Dagobert, thoughtfully; "it should have been so. He ought by
+rights to have been blown into a thousand pieces. But no--nothing of the
+kind!"
+
+"What do you tell us?"
+
+"What the general told me. 'At the moment when the gun went off,' as he
+often repeated to me, 'I shut my eyes by an involuntary movement, that
+I might not see the mutilated body of the poor wretch who had sacrificed
+himself in my place. When I again opened them, the first thing I saw in
+the midst of the smoke, was the tall figure of this man, standing
+erect and calm on the same spot, and casting a sad mild look on the
+artilleryman, who, with one knee on the ground, and his body thrown
+backward, gazed on him in as much terror as if he had been the devil.
+Afterwards, I lost sight of this man in the tumult,' added your father."
+
+"Bless me Dagobert! how can this be possible?"
+
+"That is just what I said to the general. He answered me that he had
+never been able to explain to himself this event, which seemed as
+incredible as it was true. Moreover, your father must have been greatly
+struck with the countenance of this man, who appeared, he said, about
+thirty years of age--for he remarked, that his extremely black eyebrows
+were joined together, and formed, as it were, one line from temple to
+temple, so that he seemed to have a black streak across his forehead.
+Remember this, my children; you will soon see why."
+
+"Oh, Dagobert! we shall not forget it," said the orphans, growing more
+and more astonished as he proceeded.
+
+"Is it not strange--this man with a black seam on his forehead?"
+
+"Well, you shall hear. The general had, as I told you, been left for
+dead at Waterloo. During the night which he passed on the field of
+battle, in a sort of delirium brought on by the fever of his wounds, he
+saw, or fancied he saw, this same man bending over him, with a look
+of great mildness and deep melancholy, stanching his wounds, and using
+every effort to revive him. But as your father, whose senses were still
+wandering, repulsed his kindness saying, that after such a defeat, it
+only remained to die--it appeared as if this man replied to him; 'You
+must live for Eva!' meaning your mother, whom the general had left at
+Warsaw, to join the Emperor, and make this campaign of France."
+
+"How strange, Dagobert!--And since then, did our father never see this
+man?"
+
+"Yes, he saw him--for it was he who brought news of the general to your
+poor mother."
+
+"When was that? We never heard of it."
+
+"You remember that, on the day your mother died, you went to the pine
+forest with old Fedora?"
+
+"Yes," answered Rose, mournfully; "to fetch some heath, of which our
+mother was so fond."
+
+"Poor mother!" added Blanche; "she appeared so well that morning, that
+we could not dream of the calamity which awaited us before night."
+
+"True, my children; I sang and worked that morning in the garden,
+expecting, no more than you did, what was to happen. Well, as I was
+singing at my work, on a sudden I heard a voice ask me in French:
+'Is this the village of Milosk?'--I turned round, and saw before me a
+stranger; I looked at him attentively, and, instead of replying, fell
+back two steps, quite stupefied."
+
+"Ah, why?"
+
+"He was of tall stature, very pale, with a high and open forehead; but
+his eyebrows met, and seemed to form one black streak across it."
+
+"Then it was the same man who had twice been with our father in battle?"
+
+"Yes--it was he."
+
+"But, Dagobert," said Rose, thoughtfully, "is it not a long time since
+these battles?"
+
+"About sixteen years."
+
+"And of what age was this stranger?"
+
+"Hardly more than thirty."
+
+"Then how can it be the same man, who sixteen years before, had been
+with our father in the wars?"
+
+"You are right," said Dagobert, after a moment's silence, and shrugging
+his shoulders: "I may have been deceived by a chance likeness--and
+yet--"
+
+"Or, if it were the same, he could not have got older all that while."
+
+"But did you ask him, if he had not formerly relieved our father?"
+
+"At first I was so surprised that I did not think of it; and afterwards,
+he remained so short a time, that I had no opportunity. Well, he asked
+me for the village of Milosk. 'You are there, sir,' said I, 'but how
+do you know that I am a Frenchman?' 'I heard you singing as I passed,'
+replied he; 'could you tell me the house of Madame Simon, the general's
+wife?' 'She lives here, sir.' Then looking at me for some seconds in
+silence, he took me by the hand and said: 'You are the friend of General
+Simon--his best friend?' Judge of my astonishment, as I answered: 'But,
+sir, how do you know?' 'He has often spoken of you with gratitude.' 'You
+have seen the general then?' 'Yes, some time ago, in India. I am also
+his friend: I bring news of him to his wife, whom I knew to be exiled
+in Siberia. At Tobolsk, whence I come, I learned that she inhabits this
+village. Conduct me to her!'"
+
+"The good traveller--I love him already," said Rose.
+
+"Yes, being father's friend."
+
+"I begged him to wait an instant, whilst I went to inform your mother,
+so that the surprise might not do her harm; five minutes after, he was
+beside her."
+
+"And what kind of man was this traveller, Dagobert?"
+
+"He was very tall; he wore a dark pelisse, and a fur cap, and had long
+black hair."
+
+"Was he handsome?"
+
+"Yes, my children--very handsome; but with so mild and melancholy an
+air, that it pained my heart to see him."
+
+"Poor man! he had doubtless known some great sorrow."
+
+"Your mother had been closeted with him for some minutes, when she
+called me to her and said that she had just received good news of the
+general. She was in tears, and had before her a large packet of papers;
+it was a kind of journal, which your father had written every evening to
+console himself; not being able to speak to her, he told the paper all
+that he would have told her."
+
+"Oh! where are these papers, Dagobert?"
+
+"There, in the knapsack, with my cross and our purse. One day I will
+give them to you: but I have picked out a few leaves here and there for
+you to read presently. You will see why."
+
+"Had our father been long in India?"
+
+"I gathered from the few words which your mother said, that the general
+had gone to that country, after fighting for the Greeks against the
+Turks--for he always liked to side with the weak against the strong.
+In India he made fierce war against the English, they had murdered our
+prisoners in pontoons, and tortured the Emperor at St. Helena, and the
+war was a doubly good one, for in harming them he served a just cause."
+
+"What cause did he serve then?"
+
+"That of one of the poor native princes, whose territories the English,
+lay waste, till the day when they can take possession of them against
+law and right. You see, my children, it was once more the weak against
+the strong, and your father did not miss this opportunity. In a few
+months he had so well-trained and disciplined the twelve or fifteen
+thousand men of the prince, that, in two encounters, they cut to pieces
+the English sent against them, and who, no doubt, had in their reckoning
+left out your brave father, my children. But come, you shall read some
+pages of his journal, which will tell you more and better than I
+can. Moreover, you will find in them a name which you ought always to
+remember; that's why I chose this passage."
+
+"Oh, what happiness! To read the pages written by our father, is almost
+to hear him speak," said Rose.
+
+"It is as if he were close beside us," added Blanche.
+
+And the girls stretched out their hands with eagerness, to catch hold
+of the leaves that Dagobert had taken from his pocket. Then, by a
+simultaneous movement, full of touching grace, they pressed the writing
+of their father in silence to their lips.
+
+"You will see also, my children, at the end of this letter, why I
+was surprised that your guardian angel, as you say, should be called
+Gabriel. Read, read," added the soldier, observing the puzzled air of
+the orphans. "Only I ought to tell you that, when he wrote this,
+the general had not yet fallen in with the traveller who brought the
+papers."
+
+Rose, sitting up in her bed, took the leaves, and began to read in a
+soft and trembling voice, Blanche, with her head resting on her sister's
+shoulder, followed attentively every word. One could even see, by
+the slight motion of her lips, that she too was reading, but only to
+herself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. EXTRACTS FROM GENERAL SIMON'S DIARY.
+
+Bivouac on the Mountains of Avers February the 20th, 1830.
+
+"Each time I add some pages to this journal, written now in the heart
+of India, where the fortune of my wandering and proscribed existence has
+thrown me--a journal which, alas! my beloved Eva, you may never read--I
+experience a sweet, yet painful emotion; for, although to converse thus
+with you is a consolation, it brings back the bitter thought that I am
+unable to see or speak to you.
+
+"Still, if these pages should ever meet your eyes, your generous heart
+will throb at the name of the intrepid being, to whom I am this day
+indebted for my life, and to whom I may thus perhaps owe the happiness
+of seeing you again--you and my child--for of course our child lives.
+Yes, it must be--for else, poor wife, what an existence would be yours
+amid the horrors of exile! Dear soul! he must now be fourteen. Whom
+does he resemble? Is he like you? Has he your large and beautiful blue
+eyes?--Madman that I am! how many times, in this long day-book, have
+I already asked the same idle question, to which you can return no
+answer!--How many times shall I continue to ask it?--But you will teach
+our child to speak and love the somewhat savage name of Djalma."
+
+"Djalma!" said Rose, as with moist eyes she left off reading.
+
+"Djalma!" repeated Blanche, who shared the emotion of her sister. "Oh,
+we shall never forget that name."
+
+"And you will do well, my children; for it seems to be the name of a
+famous soldier, though a very young one. But go on, my little Rose!"
+
+"I have told you in the preceding pages, my dear Eva, of the two
+glorious days we had this month. The troops of my old friend, the
+prince, which daily make fresh advances in European discipline, have
+performed wonders. We have beaten the English, and obliged them to
+abandon a portion of this unhappy country, which they had invaded in
+contempt of all the rights of justice, and which they continue to
+ravage without mercy, for, in these parts, warfare is another name for
+treachery, pillage, and massacre. This morning, after a toilsome march
+through a rocky and mountainous district, we received information from
+our scouts, that the enemy had been reinforced, and was preparing to act
+on the offensive; and, as we were separated from them by a distance of
+a few leagues only, an engagement became inevitable. My old friend
+the prince, the father of my deliverer, was impatient to march to the
+attack. The action began about three o'clock; it was very bloody
+and furious. Seeing that our men wavered for a moment, for they were
+inferior in number, and the English reinforcements consisted of fresh
+troops, I charged at the head of our weak reserve of cavalry. The old
+prince was in the centre, fighting, as he always fights, intrepidly; his
+son, Djalma, scarcely eighteen, as brave as his father, did not leave my
+side. In the hottest part of the engagement, my horse was killed under
+me, and rolling over into a ravine, along the edge of which I was
+riding, I found myself so awkwardly entangled beneath him, that for an
+instant I thought my thigh was broken."
+
+"Poor father!" said Blanche.
+
+"This time, happily, nothing more dangerous ensued thanks to Djalma!
+You see, Dagobert," added Rose, "that I remember the name." And she
+continued to read,
+
+"The English thought--and a very flattering opinion it was--that, if
+they could kill me, they would make short work of the prince's army.
+So a Sepoy officer, with five or six irregulars--cowardly, ferocious
+plunderers--seeing me roll down the ravine, threw themselves into it
+to despatch me. Surrounded by fire and smoke, and carried away by their
+ardor, our mountaineers had not seen me fall; but Djalma never left me.
+He leaped into the ravine to my assistance, and his cool intrepidity
+saved my life. He had held the fire of his double-barrelled carbine;
+with one load, he killed the officer on the spot; with the other he
+broke the arm of an irregular, who had already pierced my left hand
+with his bayonet. But do not be alarmed, dear Eva; it is nothing--only a
+scratch."
+
+"Wounded--again wounded--alas!" cried Blanche, clasping her hands
+together, and interrupting her sister.
+
+"Take courage!" said Dagobert: "I dare say it was only a scratch, as
+the general calls it. Formerly, he used to call wounds, which did not
+disable a man from fighting, blank wounds. There was no one like him for
+such sayings."
+
+"Djalma, seeing me wounded," resumed Rose, wiping her eyes, "made use
+of his heavy carbine as a club, and drove back the soldiers. At that
+instant, I perceived a new assailant, who, sheltered behind a clump of
+bamboos which commanded the ravine, slowly lowered his long gun, placed
+the barrel between two branches, and took deliberate aim at Djalma.
+Before my shouts could apprise him of his danger, the brave youth
+had received a ball in his breast. Feeling himself hit, he fell bark
+involuntarily two paces, and dropped upon one knee: but he still
+remained firm, endeavoring to cover me with his body. You may conceive
+my rage and despair, whilst all my efforts to disengage myself were
+paralyzed by the excruciating pain in my thigh. Powerless and disarmed,
+I witnessed for some moments this unequal struggle.
+
+"Djalma was losing blood rapidly; his strength of arm began to fail him;
+already one of the irregulars, inciting his comrades with his voice,
+drew from his belt a huge, heavy kind of bill-hook, when a dozen of
+our mountaineers made their appearance, borne towards the spot by the
+irresistible current of the battle. Djalma was rescued in his turn, I
+was released, and, in a quarter of an hour, I was able to mount a horse.
+The fortune of the day is ours, though with severe loss; but the fires
+of the English camp are still visible, and to-morrow the conflict will
+be decisive. Thus, my beloved Eva, I owe my life to this youth. Happily,
+his wound occasions us no uneasiness; the ball only glanced along the
+ribs in a slanting direction."
+
+"The brave boy might have said: 'A blank wound,' like the general,"
+observed Dagobert.
+
+"Now, my dear Eva," continued Rose, "you must become acquainted, by
+means of this narrative at least, with the intrepid Djalma. He is but
+just eighteen. With one word, I will paint for you his noble and valiant
+nature; it is a custom of this country to give surnames, and, when only
+fifteen, he was called 'The Generous'--by which was, of course, meant
+generous in heart and mind. By another custom, no less touching than
+whimsical, this name was reverted to his parent, who is called 'The
+Father of the Generous,' and who might, with equal propriety, be called
+'The Just,' for this old Indian is a rare example of chivalrous honor
+and proud independence. He might, like so many other poor princes of
+this country, have humbled himself before the execrable despotism of
+the English, bargained for the relinquishment of sovereign power,
+and submitted to brute force--but it was not in his nature. 'My whole
+rights, or a grave in my native mountains!'--such is his motto. And this
+is no empty boast; it springs from the conviction of what is right and
+just. 'But you will be crushed in the struggle,' I have said to him--'My
+friend,' he answered, 'what if, to force you to a disgraceful act, you
+were told to yield or die?'--From that day I understood him, and have
+devoted myself, mind and body, to the ever sacred cause of the weak
+against the strong. You see, my Eva, that Djalma shows himself worthy of
+such a father. This young Indian is so proud, so heroic in his bravery,
+that, like a young Greek of Leonidas' age, he fights with his breast
+bare; while other warriors of his country (who, indeed, usually have
+arms, breast, and shoulders uncovered) wear, in time of battle, a thick,
+impenetrable vest. The rash daring of this youth reminds me of Murat,
+King of Naples, who, I have so often told you, I have seen a hundred
+times leading the most desperate charges with nothing but a riding-whip
+in his hand."
+
+"That's another of those kings I was telling you of, whom the Emperor
+set up for his amusement," said Dagobert. "I once saw a Prussian officer
+prisoner, whose face had been cut across by that mad-cap King of Naples'
+riding-whip; the mark was there, a black and blue stripe. The
+Prussian swore he was dishonored, and that a sabre-cut would have been
+preferable. I should rather think so! That devil of a king; he only
+had one idea: 'Forward, on to the cannon!' As soon as they began to
+cannonade, one would have thought the guns were calling him with all
+their might, for he was soon up to them with his 'Here I am!' If I
+speak to you about him, my children, it's because he was fond of
+repeating,--'No one can break through a square of infantry, if General
+Simon or I can't do it.'"
+
+Rose continued:
+
+"I have observed with pain, that, notwithstanding his youth, Djalma
+is often subject to fits of deep melancholy. At times, I have seen
+him exchange with his father looks of singular import. In spite of our
+mutual attachment, I believe that both conceal from me some sad family
+secret, in so far as I can judge from expressions which have dropped
+from them by chance.
+
+"It relates to some strange event which their vivid imaginations have
+invested with a supernatural character.
+
+"And yet, my love, you and I have no longer the right to smile at the
+credulity of others. I, since the French campaign, when I met with
+that extraordinary adventure, which, to this day, I am quite unable to
+understand--"
+
+"This refers to the man who threw himself before the mouth of the
+cannon," said Dagobert.
+
+"And you," continued the maiden, still reading, "you, my dear Eva,
+since the visits of that young and beautiful woman, whom, as your mother
+asserted, she had seen at her mother's house forty years before."
+
+The orphans, in amazement, looked at the soldier.
+
+"Your mother never spoke to me of that, nor the general either, my
+children; this is as strange to me as it is to you."
+
+With increasing excitement and curiosity, Rose continued:
+
+"After all, my dear Eva, things which appear very extraordinary, may
+often be explained by a chance resemblance or a freak of nature. Marvels
+being always the result of optical illusion or heated fancy, a time must
+come, when that which appeared to be superhuman or supernatural, will
+prove to be the most simple and natural event in the world. I doubt not,
+therefore, that the things, which we denominate our prodigies, will one
+day receive this commonplace solution."
+
+"You see, my children--things appear marvelous, which at bottom are
+quite simple--though for a long time we understand nothing about them."
+
+"As our father relates this, we must believe it, and not be
+astonished--eh, sister?"
+
+"Yes, truly--since it will all be explained one day."
+
+"For example," said Dagobert, after a moment's reflection, "you two
+are so much alike, that any one, who was not in the habit of seeing you
+daily, might easily take one for the other. Well! if they did not know
+that you are, so to speak,'doubles,' they might think an imp was at work
+instead of such good little angels as you are."
+
+"You are right, Dagobert; in this way many things may be explained, even
+as our father says." And Rose continued to read:
+
+"Not without pride, my gentle Eva, have I learned that Djalma has French
+blood in his veins. His father married, some years ago, a young girl,
+whose family, of French origin, had long been settled at Batavia in the
+island of Java. This similarity of circumstances between my old friend
+and myself--for your family also, my Eva, is of French origin, and long
+settled in a foreign land--has only served to augment my sympathy for
+him. Unfortunately, he has long had to mourn the loss of the wife whom
+he adored.
+
+"See, my beloved Eva! my hand trembles as I write these words. I am
+weak--I am foolish--but, alas! my heart sinks within me. If such a
+misfortune were to happen to me--Oh, my God!--what would become of our
+child without thee--without his father--in that barbarous country?
+But no! the very fear is madness; and yet what a horrible torture is
+uncertainty! Where may you now be? What are you doing? What has become
+of you? Pardon these black thoughts, which are sometimes too much for
+me. They are the cause of my worst moments--for, when free from them,
+I can at least say to myself: I am proscribed, I am every way
+unfortunate--but, at the other end of the world, two hearts still beat
+for me with affection--yours, my Eva, and our child's!"
+
+Rose could hardly finish this passage; for some seconds her voice was
+broken by sobs. There was indeed a fatal coincidence between the fears
+of General Simon and the sad reality; and what could be more touching
+than these outpourings of the heart, written by the light of a watch
+fire, on the eve of battle, by a soldier who thus sought to soothe the
+pangs of a separation, which he felt bitterly, but knew not would be
+eternal?
+
+"Poor general! he is unaware of our misfortune," said Dagobert, after
+a moment's silence; "but neither has he heard that he has two children,
+instead of one. That will be at least some consolation. But come,
+Blanche; do go on reading: I fear that this dwelling on grief fatigues
+your sister, and she is too much affected by it. Besides, after all, it
+is only just, that you should take your share of its pleasure and its
+sorrow."
+
+Blanche took the letter, and Rose, having dried her eyes, laid in her
+turn her sweet head on the shoulder of her sister, who thus continued:
+
+"I am calmer now, my dear Eva; I left off writing for a moment,
+and strove to banish those black presentiments. Let us resume our
+conversation! After discoursing so long about India, I will talk to
+you a little of Europe. Yesterday evening, one of our people (a trusty
+fellow) rejoined our outposts. He brought me a letter, which had arrived
+from France at Calcutta; at length, I have news of my father, and am no
+longer anxious on his account. This letter is dated in August of last
+year. I see by its contents, that several other letters, to which he
+alludes, have either been delayed or lost; for I had not received
+any for two years before, and was extremely uneasy about him. But my
+excellent father is the same as ever! Age has not weakened him; his
+character is as energetic, his health as robust, as in times past--still
+a workman, still proud of his order, still faithful to his austere
+republican ideas, still hoping much.
+
+"For he says to me, 'the time is at hand,' and he underlines those
+words. He gives me also, as you will see, good news of the family of old
+Dagobert, our friend--for in truth, my dear Eva, it soothes my grief
+to think, that this excellent man is with you, that he will have
+accompanied you in your exile--for I know him--a kernel of gold beneath
+the rude rind of a soldier! How he must love our child!"
+
+Here Dagobert coughed two or three times, stooped down, and appeared
+to be seeking on the ground the little red and blue check-handkerchief
+spread over his knees. He remained thus bent for some seconds, and, when
+he raised himself, he drew his hand across his moustache.
+
+"How well father knows you!"
+
+"How rightly has he guessed that you would love us!"
+
+"Well, well, children; pass over that!--Let's come to the part where the
+general speaks of my little Agricola, and of Gabriel, my wife's adopted
+child. Poor woman! when I think that in three months perhaps--but
+come, child, read, read," added the old soldier, wishing to conceal his
+emotion.
+
+"I still hope against hope, my dear Eva, that these pages will one
+day reach you, and therefore I wish to insert in them all that can be
+interesting to Dagobert. It will be a consolation to him, to have some
+news of his family. My father, who is still foreman at Mr. Hardy's,
+tells me that worthy man has also taken into his house the son of old
+Dagobert. Agricola works under my father, who is enchanted with him.
+He is, he tells me, a tall and vigorous lad, who wields the heavy
+forge hammer as if it were a feather, and is light-spirited as he is
+intelligent and laborious. He is the best workman on the establishment;
+and this does not prevent him in the evening, after his hard day's work,
+when he returns home to his mother, whom he truly loves, from making
+songs and writing excellent patriotic verses. His poetry is full of fire
+and energy; his fellow-workmen sing nothing else, and his lays have the
+power to warm the coldest and the most timid hearts."
+
+"How proud you must be of your son, Dagobert," said Rose, in admiration;
+"he writes songs."
+
+"Certainly, it is all very fine--but what pleases me best is, that he is
+good to his mother, and that he handles the hammer with a will. As
+for the songs, before he makes a 'Rising of the People,' or a
+'Marseillaise,' he will have had to beat a good deal of iron; but where
+can this rascally sweet Agricola have learned to make songs at all?--No
+doubt, it was at school, where he went, as you will see, with his
+adopted brother Gabriel."
+
+At this name of Gabriel, which reminded them of the imaginary being whom
+they called their guardian angel, the curiosity of the young girls was
+greatly excited. With redoubled attention, Blanche continued in these
+words:
+
+"The adopted brother of Agricola, the poor deserted child whom the wife
+of our good Dagobert so generously took in, forms, my father tells me, a
+great contrast with Agricola; not in heart, for they have both excellent
+hearts; but Gabriel is as thoughtful and melancholy as Agricola is
+lively, joyous, and active. Moreover, adds my father, each of them, so
+to speak, has the aspect, which belongs to his character. Agricola
+is dark, tall, and strong, with a gay and bold air; Gabriel, on
+the contrary, is weak, fair, timid as a girl, and his face wears an
+expression of angelic mildness."
+
+The orphans looked at each other in surprise; then, as they turned
+towards the soldier their ingenuous countenances, Rose said to him;
+"Have you heard, Dagobert? Father says, that your Gabriel is fair, and
+has the face of an angel. Why, 'tis exactly like ours!"
+
+"Yes, yes, I heard very well; it is that which surprised me, in your
+dream."
+
+"I should like to know, if he has also blue eyes," said Rose.
+
+"As for that, my children, though the general says nothing about it, I
+will answer for it: your fair boys have always blue eyes. But, blue or
+black, he will not use them to stare at young ladies; go on, and you
+will see why."
+
+Blanche resumed:
+
+"His face wears an expression of angelic mildness. One of the Brothers
+of the Christian Schools, where he went with Agricola and other children
+of his quarter, struck with his intelligence and good disposition, spoke
+of him to a person of consequence, who, becoming interested in the lad,
+placed him in a seminary for the clergy, and, since the last two years,
+Gabriel is a priest. He intends devoting himself to foreign missions,
+and will soon set out for America."
+
+"Your Gabriel is a priest, it appears?" said Rose, looking at Dagobert.
+
+"While ours is an angel," added Blanche.
+
+"Which only proves that yours is a step higher than mine. Well, every
+one to his taste; there are good people in all trades; but I prefer that
+it should be Gabriel who has chosen the black gown. I'd rather see my
+boy with arms bare, hammer in hand, and a leathern apron round him,
+neither more nor less than your old grandfather, my children--the father
+of Marshal Simon, Duke of Ligny--for, after all, marshal and duke he is
+by the grace of the Emperor. Now finish your letter."
+
+"Soon, alas, yes!" said Blanche; "there are only a few lines left." And
+she proceeded:
+
+"Thus, my dear, loving Eva, if this journal should ever reach its
+destination, you will be able to satisfy Dagobert as to the position of
+his wife and son, whom he left for our sakes. How can we ever repay such
+a sacrifice? But I feel sure, that your good and generous heart will
+have found some means of compensation.
+
+"Adieu!--Again adieu, for to-day, my beloved Eva; I left off writing
+for a moment, to visit the tent of Djalma. He slept peacefully, and
+his father watched beside him; with a smile, he banished my fears. This
+intrepid young man is no longer in any danger. May he still be spared in
+the combat of to-morrow! Adieu, my gentle Eva! the night is silent
+and calm; the fires of the bivouac are slowly dying out, and our poor
+mountaineers repose after this bloody day; I can hear, from hour to
+hour, the distant all's well of our sentinels. Those foreign words
+bring back my grief; they remind me of what I sometimes forget in
+writing--that I am faraway, separated from you and from my child! Poor,
+beloved beings! what will be your destiny? Ah! if I could only send you,
+in time, that medal, which, by a fatal accident, I carried away with
+me from Warsaw, you might, perhaps, obtain leave to visit France, or
+at least to send our child there with Dagobert; for you know of what
+importance--But why add this sorrow to all the rest? Unfortunately, the
+years are passing away, the fatal day will arrive, and this last hope,
+in which I live for you, will also be taken from me: but I will not
+close the evening by so sad a thought. Adieu, my beloved Eva! Clasp our
+child to your bosom, and cover it with all the kisses which I send to
+both of you from the depths of exile!"
+
+"Till to-morrow--after the battle!"
+
+The reading of this touching letter was followed by long silence. The
+tears of Rose and Blanche flowed together. Dagobert, with his head
+resting on his hand, was absorbed in painful reflections.
+
+Without doors, the wind had now augmented in violence; a heavy rain
+began to beat on the sounding panes; the most profound silence reigned
+in the interior of the inn. But, whilst the daughters of General Simon
+were reading with such deep emotion, these fragments of their father's
+journal, a strange and mysterious scene transpired in the menagerie of
+the brute-tamer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. THE CAGES.
+
+Morok had prepared himself. Over his deer-skin vest he had drawn
+the coat of mail--that steel tissue, as pliable as cloth, as hard as
+diamonds; next, clothing his arms and legs in their proper armor,
+and his feet in iron-bound buskins, and concealing all this defensive
+equipment under loose trousers and an ample pelisse carefully buttoned,
+he took in his hand a long bar of iron, white-hot, set in a wooden
+handle.
+
+Though long ago daunted by the skill and energy of the Prophet, his
+tiger Cain, his lion Judas, and his black panther Death, had sometimes
+attempted, in a moment of rebellion, to try their fangs and claws on
+his person; but, thanks to the armor concealed beneath his pelisse, they
+blunted their claws upon a skin of steel, and notched their fangs upon
+arms or legs of iron, whilst a slight touch of their master's metallic
+wand left a deep furrow in their smoking, shrivelled flesh.
+
+Finding the inutility of their efforts, and endowed with strong memory,
+the beasts soon learned that their teeth and claws were powerless
+when directed against this invulnerable being. Hence, their terrified
+submission reached to such a point that, in his public representations,
+their master could make them crouch and cower at his feet by the least
+movement of a little wand covered with flame-colored paper.
+
+The Prophet, thus armed with care, and holding in his hand the iron made
+hot by Goliath, descended by the trapdoor of the loft into the large
+shed beneath, in which were deposited the cages of his animals. A mere
+wooden partition separated this shed from the stable that contained his
+horses.
+
+A lantern, with a reflector, threw a vivid light on the cages. They were
+four in number. A wide iron grating formed their sides, turning at one
+end upon hinges like a door, so as to give ingress to the animal; the
+bottom of each den rested on two axle-trees and four small iron castors,
+so that they could easily be removed to the large covered wagon in which
+they were placed during a journey. One of them was empty; the other
+three contained, as already intimated, a panther, a tiger, and a lion.
+
+The panther, originally from Java, seemed to merit the gloomy name
+of Death, by her grim, ferocious aspect. Completely black, she lay
+crouching and rolled up in the bottom of her cage, and her dark hues
+mingling with the obscurity which surrounded her, nothing was distinctly
+visible but fixed and glaring eyes--yellow balls of phosphoric light,
+which only kindled, as it were, in the night-time; for it is the nature
+of all the animals of the feline species to enjoy entire clearness of
+vision but in darkness.
+
+The Prophet entered the stable in silence: the dark red of his long
+pelisse contrasted with the pale yellow of his straight hair and beard;
+the lantern, placed at some height above the ground, threw its rays full
+upon this man, and the strong light, opposed to the deep shadows around
+it, gave effect to the sharp proportions of his bony and savage looking
+figure.
+
+He approached the cage slowly. The white rim, which encircled his
+eyeball, appeared to dilate, and his look rivaled in motionless
+brilliancy the steadily sparkling gaze of the panther. Still crouching
+in the shade, she felt already the fascination of that glance; two
+or three times she dropped her eyelids, with a low, angry howl; then,
+reopening her eyes, as if in spite of herself, she kept them fastened
+immovably on those of the Prophet. And now her rounded ears clung to
+her skull, which was flattened like a viper's; the skin of her forehead
+became convulsively wrinkled; she drew in her bristling, but silky
+muzzle, and twice silently opened her jaws, garnished with formidable
+fangs. From that moment a kind of magnetic connection seemed to be
+established between the man and the beast.
+
+The Prophet extended his glowing bar towards the cage, and said, in a
+sharp, imperious tone: "Death! come here."
+
+The panther rose, but so dragged herself along that her belly and the
+bend of her legs touched the ground. She was three feet high, and nearly
+five in length; her elastic and fleshy spine, the sinews of her thighs
+as well developed as those of a race-horse, her deep chest, her enormous
+jutting shoulders, the nerve and muscle in her short, thick paws--all
+announced that this terrible animal united vigor with suppleness, and
+strength with agility.
+
+Morok, with his iron wand still extended in the direction of the cage,
+made a step towards the panther. The panther made a stride towards the
+Prophet. Morok stopped; Death stopped also.
+
+At this moment the tiger, Judas, to whom Morok's back was turned,
+bounded violently in his cage, as if jealous of the attention, which his
+master paid to the panther. He growled hoarsely, and, raising his head,
+showed the under-part of his redoubtable triangular jaw, and his broad
+chest of a dirty white, with which blended the copper color, streaked
+with black, of his sides; his tail, like a huge red serpent, with rings
+of ebony, now clung to his flanks, now lashed them with a slow and
+continuous movement: his eyes, of a transparent, brilliant green, were
+fixed upon the Prophet.
+
+Such was the influence of this man over his animals, that Judas almost
+immediately ceased growling, as if frightened at his own temerity; but
+his respiration continued loud and deep. Morok turned his face towards
+him, and examined him very attentively during some seconds. The panther,
+no longer subject to the influence of her master's look, slunk back to
+crouch in the shade.
+
+A sharp cracking, in sudden breaks, like that which great animals make
+in gnawing hard substances, was now heard from the cage of the lion.
+It drew the attention of the Prophet, who, leaving the tiger, advanced
+towards the other den.
+
+Nothing could be seen of the lion but his monstrous croup of a reddish
+yellow. His thighs were gathered under him, and his thick mane served
+entirely to conceal his head. But by the tension and movement of the
+muscles of his loins, and the curving of his backbone, it was easy to
+perceive that he was making violent efforts with his throat and his
+forepaws. The Prophet approached the cage with same uneasiness, fearing
+that, notwithstanding his orders, Goliath had given the lion some bones
+to gnaw. To assure himself of it, he said in a quick and firm voice:
+"Cain!"
+
+The lion did not change his position.
+
+"Cain! come here!" repeated Morok in a louder tone. The appeal was
+useless; the lion did not move, and the noise continued.
+
+"Cain! come here!" said the Prophet a third time; but, as he pronounced
+these words, he applied the end of the glowing bar to the haunch of the
+lion.
+
+Scarcely did the light track of smoke appear on the reddish hide of
+Cain, when, with a spring of incredible agility, he turned and
+threw himself against the grating, not crouching, but at a single
+bound--upright, superb, terrifying. The Prophet being at the angle of
+the cage, Cain, in his fury, had raised himself sideways to face his
+master, and, leaning his huge flank against the bars, thrust between
+them his enormous fore leg, which, with his swollen muscles, was as
+large as Goliath's thigh.
+
+"Cain! down!" said the Prophet, approaching briskly.
+
+The lion did not obey immediately. His lips, curling with rage,
+displayed fangs as long, as large, and as pointed as the tusks of a wild
+boar. But Morok touched those lips with the end of the burning metal;
+and, as he felt the smart, followed by an unexpected summons of his
+master, the lion, not daring to roar, uttered a hollow growl, and his
+great body sank down at once in an attitude of submission and fear.
+
+The Prophet took down the lantern to see what Cain had been gnawing. It
+was one of the planks from the floor of his den, which he had succeeded
+in tearing up, and was crunching between his teeth in the extremity of
+his hunger. For a few moments the most profound silence reigned in the
+menagerie. The Prophet, with his hands behind his back, went from one
+cage to the other, observing the animals with a restless contemplative
+look, as if he hesitated to make between them an important and difficult
+choice.
+
+From time to time he listened at the great door of the shed, which
+opened on the court-yard of the inn. At length this door turned on its
+hinges, and Goliath appeared, his clothes dripping with water.
+
+"Well! is it done?" said the Prophet.
+
+"Not without trouble. Luckily, the night is dark, it blows hard, and it
+pours with rain."
+
+"Then there is no suspicion?"
+
+"None, master. Your information was good. The door of the cellar opens
+on the fields, just under the window of the lasses. When you whistled to
+let me know it was time, I crept out with a stool I had provided; I put
+it up against the wall, and mounted upon it; with my six feet, that made
+nine, and I could lean my elbows on the window-ledge; I took the shutter
+in one hand, and the haft of my knife in the other, and, whilst I broke
+two of the panes, I pushed the shutter with all my might."
+
+"And they thought it was the wind?"
+
+"Yes, they thought it was the wind. You see, the 'brute' is not such a
+brute, after all. That done, I crept back into my cellar, carrying my
+stool with me. In a little time, I heard the voice of the old man; it
+was well I had made haste."
+
+"Yes, when I whistled to you, he had just entered the supper-room. I
+thought he would have been longer."
+
+"That man's not built to remain long at supper," said the giant,
+contemptuously. "Some moments after the panes had been broken, the old
+man opened the window, and called his dog, saying: 'Jump out!'--I went
+and hid myself at the further end of the cellar, or that infernal dog
+would have scented me through the door."
+
+"The dog is now shut up in the stable with the old man's horse."
+
+"Go on!"
+
+"When I heard them close shutter and window, I came out of my cellar,
+replaced my stool, and again mounted upon it. Unfastening the shutter,
+I opened it without noise, but the two broken panes were stopped up with
+the skirts of a pelisse. I heard talking, but I could see nothing; so I
+moved the pelisse a little, and then I could see the two lasses in bed
+opposite to me, and the old man sitting down with his back to where I
+stood."
+
+"But the knapsack--the knapsack?--That is the most important."
+
+"The knapsack was near the window, on a table, by the side of a lamp; I
+could have reached it by stretching out my arm."
+
+"What did you hear said?"
+
+"As you told me to think only of the knapsack, I can only remember what
+concerns the knapsack. The old man said he had some papers in it--the
+letter of a general--his money--his cross."
+
+"Good--what next?"
+
+"As it was difficult for me to keep the pelisse away from the hole, it
+slipped through my fingers. In trying to get hold of it again, I put
+my hand too much forward. One of the lasses saw it, and screamed out,
+pointing to the window."
+
+"Dolt!" exclaimed the Prophet, becoming pale with rage, "you have ruined
+all."
+
+"Stop a bit! there is nothing broken yet. When I heard the scream, I
+jumped down from my stool, and got back into the cellar; as the dog was
+no longer about, I left the door ajar, so that I could hear them open
+the window, and see, by the light, that the old man was looking out with
+the lamp; but he could find no ladder, and the window was too high for
+any man of common size to reach it!"
+
+"He will have thought, like the first time, that it was the wind. You
+are less awkward than I imagined."
+
+"The wolf has become a fox, as you said. Knowing where the knapsack was
+to be found with the money and the papers, and not being able to do more
+for the moment, I came away--and here I am."
+
+"Go upstairs and fetch me the longest pike."
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+"And the red blanket."
+
+"Yes, master."
+
+"Go!"
+
+Goliath began to mount the ladder; half-way up he stopped. "Master,"
+said he, "may I not bring down a bit of meat for Death?--you will see
+that she'll bear me malice; she puts it all down to my account; she
+never forgets, and on the first occasion--"
+
+"The pike and the cloth!" repeated the Prophet, in an imperious tone.
+And whilst Goliath, swearing to himself, proceeded to execute his
+instructions, Morok opened the great door of the shed, looked out into
+the yard, and listened.
+
+"Here's the pike and the cloth," said the giant, as he descended the
+ladder with the articles. "Now what must I do next?"
+
+"Return to the cellar, mount once more by the window, and when the old
+man leaves the room--"
+
+"Who will make him leave the room?"
+
+"Never mind! he will leave it."
+
+"What next?"
+
+"You say the lamp is near the window?"
+
+"Quite near--on the table next to the knapsack."
+
+"Well, then, as soon as the old man leaves the room, push open the
+window, throw down the lamp, and if you accomplish cleverly what remains
+to do--the ten florins are yours--you remember it all?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"The girls will be so frightened by the noise and darkness, that they
+will remain dumb with terror."
+
+"Make yourself easy! The wolf turned into a fox; why not a serpent?"
+
+"There is yet something."
+
+"Well, what now?"
+
+"The roof of this shed is not very high, the window of the loft is easy
+of access, the night is dark--instead of returning by the door--"
+
+"I will come in at the window."
+
+"Ay, and without noise."
+
+"Like a regular snake!" and the giant departed.
+
+"Yes!" said the Prophet to himself, after a long silence, "these means
+are sure. It was not for me to hesitate. A blind and obscure instrument,
+I know not the motives of the orders I have received: but from the
+recommendations which accompany them--but from the position of him who
+sends them--immense interests must be involved--interests connected with
+all that is highest and greatest upon earth!--And yet how can these
+two girls, almost beggars, how can this wretched soldier represent such
+interests?--No matter," added he, with humility; "I am the arm which
+acts--it is for the head, which thinks and orders, to answer for its
+work."
+
+Soon after the Prophet left the shed, carrying with him the red cloth,
+and directed his steps towards the little stable that contained Jovial.
+The crazy door, imperfectly secured by a latch, was easily opened. At
+sight of a stranger Spoil-sport threw himself upon him; but his teeth
+encountered the iron leggings of the Prophet, who, in spite of the
+efforts of the dog took Jovial by his halter, threw the blanket over
+his head to prevent his either seeing or smelling, and led him from the
+stable into the interior of the menagerie, of which he closed the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. THE SURPRISE.
+
+The orphans, after reading the journal of their father, remained for
+some moments silent, sad, and pensive, contemplating the leaves yellowed
+by time. Dagobert, also plunged in a reverie, thought of his wife and
+son, from whom he had been so long separated, and hoped soon to see
+again.
+
+The soldier was the first to break the silence, which had lasted for
+several minutes. Taking the leaves from the hand of Blanche, he folded
+them carefully, put them into his pocket, and thus addressed the
+orphans:
+
+"Courage, my children! you see what a brave father you have. Think only
+of the pleasure of greeting him, and remember always the name of the
+gallant youth, to whom you will owe that pleasure--for without him your
+father would have been killed in India."
+
+"Djalma! we shall never forget him," said Rose.
+
+"And if our guardian angel Gabriel should return," added Blanche, "we
+will ask him to watch over Djalma as over ourselves."
+
+"Very well, my children; I am sure that you will forget nothing that
+concerns good feeling. But to return to the traveller, who came to visit
+your poor mother in Siberia, he had seen the general a month after the
+events of which you have read, and at a moment when he was about to
+enter on a new campaign against the English. It was then that your
+father entrusted him with the papers and medal."
+
+"But of what use will this medal be to us, Dagobert?"
+
+"And what is the meaning of these words engraved upon it?" added Rose,
+as she drew it from her bosom.
+
+"Why it means, my children, that on the 13th of February, 1832, we must
+be at No. 3, Rue Saint Francois, Paris."
+
+"But what are we to do there?"
+
+"Your poor mother was seized so quickly with her last illness, that she
+was unable to tell me. All I know is, that this medal came to her from
+her parents, and that it had been a relic preserved in her family for
+more than a century."
+
+"And how did our father get it?"
+
+"Among the articles which had been hastily thrown into the coach,
+when he was removed by force from Warsaw, was a dressing-case of your
+mother's, in which was contained this medal. Since that time the general
+had been unable to send it back, having no means of communicating with
+us, and not even knowing where we were."
+
+"This medal is, then, of great importance to us?"
+
+"Unquestionably; for never, during fifteen years, had I seen your mother
+so happy, as on the day the traveller brought it back to her. 'Now,'
+said she to me, in the presence of the stranger, and with tears of joy
+in her eyes, 'now may my children's future be brilliant as their life
+has hitherto been miserable. I will entreat of the governor of Siberia
+permission to go to France with my daughters; it will perhaps be thought
+I have been sufficiently punished, by fifteen years of exile, and the
+confiscation of my property. Should they refuse, I will remain here; but
+they will at least allow me to send my children to France, and you must
+accompany them, Dagobert. You shall set out immediately, for much time
+has been already lost; and, if you were not to arrive before the 13th
+of next February, this cruel separation and toilsome journey would have
+been all in vain.'"
+
+"Suppose we were one day after?"
+
+"Your mother told me that if we arrived the 14th instead of the 13th, it
+would be too late. She also gave me a thick letter, to put into the
+post for France, in the first town we should pass through--which I have
+done."
+
+"And do you think we shall be at Paris in time?"
+
+"I hope so; still, if you are strong enough, we must sometimes make
+forced marches--for, if we only travel our five leagues a day, and that
+without accident, we shall scarcely reach Paris until the beginning of
+February, and it is better to be a little beforehand."
+
+"But as father is in--India, and condemned to death if he return to
+France, when shall we see him?"
+
+"And where shall we see him?"
+
+"Poor children! there are so many things you have yet to learn. When the
+traveller quitted him, the general could not return to France, but now
+he can do so."
+
+"And why is that?"
+
+"Because the Bourbons, who had banished him, were themselves turned out
+last year. The news must reach India, and your father will certainly
+come to meet you at Paris, because he expects that you and your mother
+will be there on the 13th of next February."
+
+"Ah! now I understand how we may hope to see him," said Rose with a
+sigh.
+
+"Do you know the name of this traveller, Dagobert?"
+
+"No, my children; but whether called Jack or John, he is a good sort.
+When he left your mother, she thanked him with tears for all his
+kindness and devotion to the general, herself, and the children; but he
+pressed her hands in his, and said to her, in so gentle a voice that
+I could not help being touched by it: 'Why do you thank me? Did He not
+Say--LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER!'"
+
+"Who is that, Dagobert?"
+
+"Yes, of whom did the traveller speak?"
+
+"I know nothing about it; only the manner in which he pronounced those
+words struck me, and they were the last he spoke."
+
+"Love one another!" repeated Rose, thoughtfully.
+
+"How beautiful are those words!" added Blanche.
+
+"And whither was the traveller going?"
+
+"Far, very far into the North, as he told your mother. When she saw
+him depart, she said to me: 'His mild, sad talk has affected me even to
+tears; whilst I listened to him, I seemed to be growing better--I
+seemed to love my husband and my children more--and yet, to judge by the
+expression of his countenance, one would think that this stranger had
+never either smiled or wept!' She and I watched him from the door as
+long as we could follow him with our eyes; he carried his head down, and
+his walk was slow, calm, and firm; one might fancy that he counted his
+steps. And, talking of steps, I remarked yet another thing."
+
+"What was it, Dagobert?"
+
+"You know that the road which led to our house way, always damp, because
+of the overflowing of the little spring."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, then, the mark of the traveller's footsteps remained in the clay,
+and I saw that he had nails under his shoe in the form of a cross."
+
+"How in the form of a cross?"
+
+"Look!" said Dagobert, placing the tip of his finger seven times on the
+coverlet of the bed; "they were arrange: thus beneath his heel:"
+
+          *
+        * * *
+          *
+          *
+          *
+
+"You see it forms a cross."
+
+"What could it mean, Dagobert?"
+
+"Chance, perhaps--yes, chance--and yet, in spite of myself, this
+confounded cross left behind him struck me as a bad omen, for hardly was
+he gone when misfortune after misfortune fell upon us."
+
+"Alas! the death of our mother!"
+
+"Yes--but, before that, another piece of ill-luck. You had not yet
+returned, and she was writing her petition to ask leave to go to France
+or to send you there, when I heard the gallop of a horse. It was a
+courier from the governor general of Siberia. He brought us orders to
+change our residence; within three days we were to join other condemned
+persons, and be removed with them four hundred leagues further north.
+Thus, after fifteen years of exile, they redoubled in cruelty towards
+your mother."
+
+"Why did they thus torment her?"
+
+"One would think that some evil genius was at work against her. A few
+days later, the traveller would no longer have found us at Milosk; and
+if he had joined us further on, it would have been too far for the medal
+and papers to be of use--since, having set out almost immediately, we
+shall hardly arrive in time at Paris. 'If they had some interest to
+prevent me and my children from going to France,' said your mother,
+'they would act just as they have done. To banish us four hundred
+leagues further, is to render impossible this journey, of which the term
+is fixed.' And the idea overwhelmed her with grief."
+
+"Perhaps it was this unexpected sorrow that was the cause of her sudden
+illness."
+
+"Alas! no, my children; it was that infernal cholera, who arrives
+without giving you notice--for he too is a great traveller--and strikes
+you down like a thunderbolt. Three hours after the traveller had left
+us, when you returned quite pleased and gay from the forest, with your
+large bunches of wild-flowers for your mother, she was already in the
+last agony, and hardly to be recognized. The cholera had broken out in
+the village, and that evening five persons died of it. Your mother had
+only time to hang the medal about your neck, my dear little Rose,
+to recommend you both to my care, and to beg that we should set out
+immediately. When she was gone, the new order of exile could not apply
+to you; and I obtained permission from the governor to take my departure
+with you for France, according to the last wishes--"
+
+The soldier could not finish the sentence; he covered his eyes with his
+hand, whilst the orphans embraced him sobbing.
+
+"Oh! but," resumed Dagobert, with pride, after a moment of painful
+silence, "it was then that you showed yourselves the brave daughters of
+the general. Notwithstanding the danger, it was impossible to tear
+you from your mother's bedside; you remained with her to the last, you
+closed her eyes, you watched there all night, and you would not leave
+the village till you had seen me plant the little wooden cross over the
+grave I had dug for her."
+
+Dagobert paused abruptly. A strange, wild neighing, mingled with
+ferocious roarings, made the soldier start from his seat. He grew pale,
+and cried: "It is Jovial! my horse! What are they doing to my horse?"
+With that, opening the door he rushed down the stairs precipitately.
+
+The two sisters clung together, so terrified at the sudden departure of
+the soldier, that they saw not an enormous hand pass through the broken
+panes, unfasten the catch of the window, push it violently open,
+and throw down the lamp placed on the little table, on which was the
+soldiers's knapsack. The orphans thus found themselves plunged into
+complete darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. JOVIAL and DEATH.
+
+Morok had led Jovial into the middle of the menagerie, and then removed
+the cloth which prevented him from seeing and smelling. Scarcely had
+the tiger, lion, and panther caught a glimpse of him than they threw
+themselves, half famished, against the bars of their dens.
+
+The horse struck with stupor, his neck stretched out, his eye fixed, and
+trembling through all his limbs, appeared as if nailed to the ground;
+an abundant icy sweat rolled suddenly down his flanks. The lion and the
+tiger uttered fearful roarings, and struggled violently in their dens.
+The panther did not roar, but her mute rage was terrific.
+
+With a tremendous bound, at the risk of breaking her skull, she sprang
+from the back of the cage against the bars; then, still mute, still
+furious, she crawled back to the extreme corner of the den, and with a
+new spring, as impetuous as it was blind, she again strove to force
+out the iron grating. Three times had she thus bounded--silent,
+appalling--when the horse, passing from the immobility of stupor to the
+wild agony of fear, neighed long and loud, and rushed in desperation at
+the door by which he had entered. Finding it closed he hung his head,
+bent his knees a little, and rubbed his nostrils against the opening
+left between the ground and the bottom of the door, as if he wished
+to inhale the air from the outside; then, more and more affrighted, he
+began to neigh with redoubled force, and struck out violently with his
+fore-feet.
+
+At the moment when Death was about once more to make her spring, the
+Prophet approached her cage. The heavy bolt which secured the grating
+was pushed from its staple by the pike of the brute-tamer, and, in
+another second, Morok was half way up the ladder that communicated with
+the loft.
+
+The roaring of the lion and tiger, mingled with the neighing of Jovial,
+now resounded through all parts of the inn. The panther had again
+thrown herself furiously on the grating, and this time yielding with one
+spring, she was in the middle of the shed.
+
+The light of the lantern was reflected from the glossy ebon of her
+hide, spotted with stains of a duller black. For an instant she remained
+motionless, crouching upon her thick-set limbs, with her head close to
+the floor, as if calculating the distance of the leap by which she was
+to reach the horse; then suddenly she darted upon him.
+
+On seeing her break from her cage Jovial had thrown himself violently
+against the door, which was made to open inwards, and leaned against
+it with all his might, as though he would force it down. Then, at
+the moment when Death took her leap, he reared up in almost an erect
+position; but she, rapid as lightning, had fastened upon his throat and
+hung there, whilst at the same time she buried the sharp claws of her
+fore-feet in his chest. The jugular vein of the horse opened; a torrent
+of bright red blood spouted forth beneath the tooth of the panther, who,
+now supporting herself on her hind legs, squeezed her victim up against
+the door, whilst she dug into his flank with her claws, and laid bare
+the palpitating flesh. Then his half-strangled neighing became awful.
+
+Suddenly these words resounded: "Courage, Jovial!--I am at hand!
+Courage!"
+
+It was the voice of Dagobert, who was exhausting himself in desperate
+exertions to force open the door that concealed this sanguinary
+struggle. "Jovial!" cried the soldier, "I am here. Help! Help!"
+
+At the sound of that friendly and well-known voice, the poor animal,
+almost at its last gasp, strove to turn its head in the direction whence
+came the accents of his master, answered him with a plaintive neigh,
+and, sinking beneath the efforts of the panther, fell prostrate, first
+on its knees, then upon its flank, so that its backbone lay right
+across the door, and still prevented its being opened. And now all was
+finished. The panther, squatting down upon the horse, crushed him with
+all her paws, and, in spite of some last faint kicks, buried her bloody
+snout in his body.
+
+"Help! help! my horse!" cried Dagobert, as he vainly shook the door.
+"And no arms!" he added with rage; "no arms!"
+
+"Take care!" exclaimed the brute-tamer, who appeared at the window
+of the loft; "do not attempt to enter it might cost you your life. My
+panther is furious."
+
+"But my horse! my horse!" cried Dagobert, in a voice of agony.
+
+"He must have strayed from his stable during the night, and pushed open
+the door of the shed. At sight of him the panther must have broken out
+of her cage and seized him. You are answerable for all the mischief that
+may ensue," added the brute-tamer, with a menacing air; "for I shall
+have to run the greatest danger, to make Death return to her den."
+
+"But my horse! only save my horse!" cried Dagobert, in a tone of
+hopeless supplication.
+
+The Prophet disappeared from the window.
+
+The roaring of the animals and the shouts of Dagobert, had roused from
+sleep every one in the White Falcon. Here and there lights were seen
+moving and windows were thrown open hurriedly. The servants of the
+inn soon appeared in the yard with lanterns, and surrounding Dagobert,
+inquired of him what had happened.
+
+"My horse is there," cried the soldier, continuing to shake the door,
+"and one of that scoundrel's animals has escaped from its cage."
+
+At these words the people of the inn, already terrified by the frightful
+roaring, fled from the spot and ran to inform the host. The soldier's
+anguish may be conceived, as pale, breathless, with his ear close to
+the chink of the door, he stood listening. By degrees the roaring had
+ceased, and nothing was heard but low growls, accompanied by the stern
+voice of the Prophet, repeating in harsh, abrupt accents: "Death! come
+here! Death!"
+
+The night was profoundly dark, and Dagobert did not perceive Goliath,
+who, crawling carefully along the tiled roof entered the loft by the
+attic window.
+
+And now the gate of the court-yard was again opened, and the landlord of
+the inn appeared, followed by a number of men. Armed with a carbine, he
+advanced with precaution; his people carried staves and pitchforks.
+
+"What is the row here?" said he, as he approached Dagobert. "What a
+hubbub in my house! The devil take wild beast showmen, and negligent
+fellows who don't know how to tie a horse to the manger! If your beast
+is hurt, so much the worse for you; you should have taken more care of
+it."
+
+Instead of replying to these reproaches, the soldier, who still listened
+attentively to what was going on in the shed, made a sign to entreat
+silence. Suddenly a ferocious roar was heard, followed by a loud scream
+from the Prophet; and, almost immediately after, the panther howled
+piteously.
+
+"You are no doubt the cause of some great accident," said the frightened
+host to the soldier; "did you not hear that cry? Morok is, perhaps,
+dangerously wounded."
+
+Dagobert was about to answer, when the door opened, and Goliath appeared
+on the threshold.
+
+"You may enter now," said he; "the danger is over."
+
+The interior of the menagerie presented a singular spectacle. The
+Prophet, pale, and scarcely able to conceal his agitation beneath an
+apparent air of calmness, was kneeling some paces from the cage of the
+panther, in the attitude of one absorbed in himself; the motion of his
+lips indicating that he was praying. At sight of the host and the people
+of the inn, he rose, and said in a solemn voice: "I thank thee, my
+Preserver, that I have been able to conquer, by the strength which Thou
+hast given me."
+
+Then folding his arms, with haughty brow and imperious glance, he seemed
+to enjoy the triumph he had achieved over Death, who, stretched on the
+bottom of her den, continued to utter plaintive howlings. The spectators
+of this scene, ignorant that the pelisse of the brute-tamer covered a
+complete suit of armor, and attributing the cries of the panther solely
+to fear, were struck with astonishment and admiration at the intrepidity
+and almost supernatural power of this man. A few steps behind him stood
+Goliath, leaning upon the ashen pikestaff. Finally, not far from the
+cage, in the midst of a pool of blood, lay the dead body of Jovial.
+
+At sight of the blood-stained and torn remains, Dagobert stood
+motionless, and his rough countenance assumed an expression of the
+deepest grief: then, throwing himself on his knees, he lifted the head
+of Jovial; and when he saw those dull, glassy, and half-closed eyes,
+once so bright and intelligent, as they turned towards a much-loved
+master, the soldier could not suppress an exclamation of bitter anguish.
+Forgetting his anger, forgetting the deplorable consequences of this
+accident, so fatal to the interests of the two maidens, who would thus
+be prevented from continuing their journey--he thought only of the
+horrible death of his poor old horse, the ancient companion of his
+fatigues and wars, the faithful animal, twice wounded like himself, and
+from whom for so many years he had never been separated. This poignant
+emotion was so cruelly, so affectingly visible in the soldier's
+countenance, that the landlord and his people felt themselves for a
+moment touched with pity, as they gazed on the tall veteran kneeling
+beside his dead horse.
+
+But, when following the course of his regrets, he thought how Jovial had
+also been the companion of his exile, how the mother of the orphans had
+formerly (like her daughters) undertaken a toilsome journey with the aid
+of this unfortunate animal, the fatal consequences of his loss presented
+themselves on a sudden to his mind. Then, fury succeeding to grief,
+he rose, with anger flashing from his eyes, and threw himself on the
+Prophet; with one hand he seized him by the throat, and with the other
+administered five or six heavy blows, which fell harmlessly on the coat
+of mail.
+
+"Rascal! you shall answer to me for my horse's death!" said the soldier,
+as he continued his correction. Morok, light and sinewy, could not
+struggle with advantage against Dagobert, who, aided by his tall
+stature, still displayed extraordinary vigor. It needed the intervention
+of Goliath and the landlord to rescue the Prophet from the hands of the
+old grenadier. After some moments, they succeeded in separating the two
+champions. Morok was white with rage. It needed new efforts to prevent
+his seizing the pike to attack Dagobert.
+
+"It is abominable!" cried the host, addressing the soldier, who pressed
+his clinched fists in despair against his bald forehead. "You expose
+this good man to be devoured by his beasts, and then you wish to beat
+him into the bargain. Is this fitting conduct for a graybeard? Shall
+we have to fetch the police? You showed yourself more reasonable in the
+early part of the evening."
+
+These words recalled the soldier to himself. He regretted his
+impetuosity the more, as the fact of his being a stranger might augment
+the difficulty of his position. It was necessary above all to obtain
+the price of his horse, so as to be enabled to continue his journey, the
+success of which might be compromised by a single day's delay. With a
+violent effort, therefore, he succeeded in restraining his wrath.
+
+"You are right--I was too hasty," said he to the host, in an agitated
+voice, which he tried to make as calm as possible. "I had not the same
+patience as before. But ought not this man be responsible for the loss
+of my horse? I make you judge in the matter."
+
+"Well, then, as judge, I am not of your opinion. All this has been your
+own fault. You tied up your horse badly, and he strayed by chance into
+this shed, of which no doubt the door was half-open," said the host,
+evidently taking the part of the brute-tamer.
+
+"It was just as you say," answered Goliath. "I can remember it. I left
+the door ajar, that the beasts might have some air in the night. The
+cages were well shut, and there was no danger."
+
+"Very true," said one of the standers-by.
+
+"It was only the sight of the horse," added another, "that made the
+panther furious, so as to break out of its cage."
+
+"It is the Prophet who has the most right to complain," observed a
+third.
+
+"No matter what this or that person says," returned Dagobert, whose
+patience was beginning to fail him, "I say, that I must have either
+money or a horse on the instant--yes, on the instant--for I wish to quit
+this unlucky house."
+
+"And I say, it is you that must indemnify me," cried Morok, who had kept
+this stage-trick for the last, and who now exhibited his left hand all
+bloody, having hitherto concealed it beneath the sleeve of his pelisse.
+"I shall perhaps be disabled for life," he added; "see what a wound the
+panther has made here!"
+
+Without having the serious character that the Prophet ascribed to it,
+the wound was a pretty deep one. This last argument gained for him the
+general sympathy. Reckoning no doubt upon this incident, to secure the
+winning of a cause that he now regarded as his own, the host said to the
+hostler: "There is only one way to make a finish. It is to call up the
+burgomaster, and beg him to step here. He will decide who is right or
+wrong."
+
+"I was just going to propose it to you," said the soldier, "for, after
+all, I cannot take the law into my own hands."
+
+"Fritz, run to the burgomaster's!"--and the hustler started in all
+haste. His master, fearing to be compromised by the examination of the
+soldier, whose papers he had neglected to ask for on his arrival, said
+to him: "The burgomaster will be in a very bad humor, to be disturbed so
+late. I have no wish to suffer by it, and I must therefore beg you to
+go and fetch me your papers, to see if they are in rule. I ought to have
+made you show them, when you arrived here in the evening."
+
+"They are upstairs in my knapsack; you shall have them," answered the
+soldier--and turning away his head, and putting his hand before his
+eyes, as he passed the dead body of Jovial, he went out to rejoin the
+sisters.
+
+The Prophet followed him with a glance of triumph, and said to himself:
+"There he goes!--without horse, without money, without papers. I could
+not do more--for I was forbidden to do more--I was to act with as much
+cunning as possible and preserve appearances. Now every one will think
+this soldier in the wrong. I can at least answer for it, that he will
+not continue his journey for some days--since such great interests
+appear to depend on his arrest, and that of the young girls."
+
+A quarter of an hour after this reflection of the brute-tamer, Karl,
+Goliath's comrade, left the hiding-place where his master had concealed
+him during the evening, and set out for Leipsic, with a letter which
+Morok had written in haste, and which Karl, on his arrival, was to put
+immediately into the post.
+
+The address of this letter was as follows:
+
+"A Monsieur Rodin, Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins, No, 11, A Paris, France."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE BURGOMASTER.
+
+Dagobert's anxiety increased every moment. Certain that his horse had
+not entered the shed of its own accord, he attributed the event which
+had taken place to the spite of the brute-tamer; but he sought in vain
+for the motive of this wretch's animosity, and he reflected with dismay,
+that his cause, however just, would depend on the good or bad humor of
+a judge dragged from his slumbers and who might be ready to condemn upon
+fallacious appearances.
+
+Fully determined to conceal, as long as possible, from the orphans the
+fresh misfortunes, which had befallen them, he was proceeding to open
+the door of their chamber, when he stumbled over Spoil-sport--for the
+dog had run back to his post, after vainly trying to prevent the Prophet
+from leading away Jovial. "Luckily the dog has returned; the poor little
+things have been well guarded," said the soldier, as he opened the door.
+To his great surprise, the room was in utter darkness.
+
+"My children," cried he, "why are you without a light?" There was no
+answer. In terror he groped his way to the bed, and took the hand of one
+of the sisters; the hand was cold as ice.
+
+"Rose, my children!" cried he. "Blanche! Give me some answer! you
+frighten me." Still the same silence continued; the hand which he held
+remained cold and powerless, and yielded passively to his touch.
+
+Just then, the moon emerged from the black clouds that surrounded her,
+and threw sufficient light into the little room, and upon the bed,
+which faced the window, for the soldier to see that the two sisters
+had fainted. The bluish light of the moon added to the paleness of the
+orphans; they held each other in a half embrace, and Rose had buried her
+head on Blanche's bosom.
+
+"They must have fainted through fear," exclaimed Dagobert, running to
+fetch his gourd. "Poor things! after a day of so much excitement, it is
+not surprising." And moistening the corner of a handkerchief with a few
+drops of brandy, the soldier knelt beside the bed, gently chafed the
+temples of the two sisters, and held the linen, wet with the spirituous
+liquor, to their little pink nostrils.
+
+Still on his knees, and bending his dark, anxious face over the orphans,
+he waited some moments before again resorting to the only restorative in
+his power. A slight shiver of Rose gave him renewed hope; the young girl
+turned her head on the pillow with a sigh; then she started, and
+opened her eyes with an expression of astonishment and alarm; but, not
+immediately recognizing Dagobert, she exclaimed: "Oh, sister!" and threw
+herself into the arms of Blanche.
+
+The latter also was beginning to experience the effect of the soldier's
+care. The exclamation of Rose completely roused her from her lethargy,
+and she clung to her sister, again sharing the fright without knowing
+its cause.
+
+"They've come to--that's the chief point," said Dagobert, "now we shall
+soon get rid of these foolish fears." Then softening his voice, he
+added: "Well, my children, courage? You are better. It is I who am
+here--me, Dagobert!"
+
+The orphans made a hasty movement, and, turning towards the soldier
+their sweet faces, which were still full of dismay and agitation, they
+both, by a graceful impulse, extended their arms to him and cried: "It
+is you, Dagobert--then we are safe!"
+
+"Yes, my children, it is I," said the veteran, taking their hands in
+his, and pressing them joyfully. "So you have been much frightened
+during my absence?"
+
+"Oh, frightened to death!"
+
+"If you knew--oh, goodness! if you knew--"
+
+"But the lamp is extinguished--why is that?"
+
+"We did not do it."
+
+"Come--recover yourselves, poor children, and tell me all about it. I
+have no good opinion of this inn; but, luckily, we shall soon leave it.
+It was an ill wind that blew me hither--though, to be sure, there was no
+other in the village. But what has happened?"
+
+"You were hardly gone, when the window flew open violently, and the lamp
+and table fell together with a loud crash."
+
+"Then our courage failed--we screamed and clasped each other, for we
+thought we could hear some one moving in the room."
+
+"And we were so frightened, that we fainted away."
+
+Unfortunately, persuaded that it was the violence of the wind which had
+already broken the glass, and shaken the window, Dagobert attributed
+this second accident to the same cause as the first, thinking that he
+had not properly secured the fastening and that the orphans had been
+deceived by a false alarm. "Well, well--it is over now," said he to
+them: "Calm yourselves, and don't think of it any more."
+
+"But why did you leave us so hastily, Dagobert?"
+
+"Yes, now I remember--did we not hear a great noise, sister, and see
+Dagobert run to the staircase, crying: 'My horse! what are they doing to
+my horse?'"
+
+"It was then Jovial who neighed?"
+
+These questions renewed the anguish of the soldier; he feared to answer
+them, and said, with a confused air: "Yes--Jovial neighed--but it was
+nothing. By the by, we must have a light here. Do you know where I put
+my flint and steel last evening? Well, I have lost my senses; it is here
+in my pocket. Luckily, too, we have a candle, which I am going to light;
+I want to look in my knapsack for some papers I require."
+
+Dagobert struck a few sparks, obtained a light, and saw that the window
+was indeed open, the table thrown down, and the lamp lying by the side
+of the knapsack. He shut the window, set the little table on its feet
+again, placed the knapsack upon it, and began to unbuckle this last in
+order to take out his portfolio, which had been deposited along with his
+cross and purse, in a kind of pocket between the outside and the lining.
+The straps had been readjusted with so much care, that there was no
+appearance of the knapsack having been disturbed; but when the soldier
+plunged his hand into the pocket above-mentioned, he found it empty.
+Struck with consternation, he grew pale, and retreated a step, crying:
+"How is this?--Nothing!"
+
+"What is the matter?" said Blanche. He made her no answer. Motionless,
+he leaned against the table, with his hand still buried in the pocket.
+Then, yielding to a vague hope--for so cruel a reality did not appear
+possible--he hastily emptied the contents of the knapsack on the
+table--his poor half-worn clothes--his old uniform-coat of the
+horse-grenadiers of the Imperial Guard, a sacred relic for the
+soldiers--but, turn and return them as he would, he found neither his
+purse, nor the portfolio that contained his papers, the letters of
+General Simon, and his cross.
+
+In vain, with that serious childishness which always accompanies a
+hopeless search, he took the knapsack by the two ends, and shook it
+vigorously; nothing came out. The orphans looked on with uneasiness, not
+understanding his silence or his movements, for his back was turned
+to them. Blanche ventured to say to him in a timid voice: "What ails
+you--you don't answer us.--What is it you are looking for in your
+knapsack?"
+
+Still mute, Dagobert searched his own person, turned out all his
+pockets--nothing!--For the first time in his life, perhaps, his two
+children, as he called them, had spoken to him without receiving a
+reply. Blanche and Rose felt the big tears start into their eyes;
+thinking that the soldier was angry, they darst not again address him.
+
+"No, no! it is impossible--no!" said the veteran, pressing his hand to
+his forehead, and seeking in his memory where he might have put those
+precious objects, the loss of which he could not yet bring himself to
+believe. A sudden beam of joy flashed from his eyes. He ran to a chair,
+and took from it the portmanteau of the orphans; it contained a little
+linen, two black dresses, and a small box of white wood, in which were
+a silk handkerchief that had belonged to their mother, two locks of her
+hair, and a black ribbon she had worn round her neck. The little she
+possessed had been seized by the Russian government, in pursuance of
+the confiscation. Dagobert searched and researched every article--peeped
+into all the corners of the portmanteau--still nothing!
+
+This time, completely worn out, leaning against the table, the strong,
+energetic man felt himself giving way. His face was burning, yet bathed
+in a cold sweat; his knees trembled under him. It is a common saying,
+that drowning men will catch at straws; and so it is with the
+despair that still clings to some shred of hope. Catching at a last
+chance--absurd, insane, impossible--he turned abruptly towards the
+orphans, and said to them, without considering the alteration in
+his voice and features: "I did not give them to you--to keep for
+me?--speak?"
+
+Instead of answering, Rose and Blanche, terrified at his paleness and
+the expression of his countenance, uttered a cry. "Good heavens! what is
+the matter with you?" murmured Rose.
+
+"Have you got them--yes, or no?" cried in a voice of thunder the
+unfortunate, distracted man. "If you have not--I'll take the first knife
+I meet with, and stick it into my body!"
+
+"Alas! You are so good: pardon us if we have done anything to afflict
+you! You love us so much, you would not do us any harm." The orphans
+began to weep, as they stretched forth their hands in supplication
+towards the soldier.
+
+He looked at them with haggard eye, without even seeing them; till, as
+the delusion passed away, the reality presented itself to his mind with
+all its terrible consequences. Then he clasped his hands together, fell
+on his knees before the bed of the orphans, leaned his forehead upon
+it, and amid his convulsive sobs--for the man of iron sobbed like a
+child--these broken words were audible: "Forgive me--forgive!--I do not
+know how it can be!--Oh! what a misfortune!--what a misfortune!--Forgive
+me!"
+
+At this outbreak of grief, the cause of which they understood not, but
+which in such a man was heart-rending, the two sisters wound their arms
+about his old gray head, and exclaimed amid their tears: "Look at us!
+Only tell us what is the matter with you?--Is it our fault?"
+
+At this instant, the noise of footsteps resounded from the stairs,
+mingled with the barking of Spoil-sport, who had remained outside the
+door. The nearer the steps approached, the more furious became the
+barking; it was no doubt accompanied with hostile demonstrations, for
+the host was heard to cry out in an angry tone: "Hollo! you there! Call
+off your dog, or speak to him. It is Mr. Burgomaster who is coming up."
+
+"Dagobert--do you hear?--it is the burgomaster," said Rose.
+
+"They are coming upstairs--a number of people," resumed Blanche.
+
+The word burgomaster recalled whatever had happened to the mind of
+Dagobert, and completed, so to express it, the picture of his terrible
+position. His horse was dead, he had neither papers nor money, and
+a day, a single day's detention, might defeat the last hope of the
+sisters, and render useless this long and toilsome journey.
+
+Men of strong minds, and the veteran was of the number, prefer great
+perils, positions of danger accurately defined, to the vague anxieties
+which precede a settled misfortune. Guided by his good sense and
+admirable devotion, Dagobert understood at once, that his only resource
+was now in the justice of the burgomaster, and that all his efforts
+should tend to conciliate the favor of that magistrate. He therefore
+dried his eyes with the sheet, rose from the ground, erect, calm, and
+resolute, and said to the orphans: "Fear nothing, my children; it is our
+deliverer who is at hand."
+
+"Will you call off your dog or no?" cried the host, still detained on
+the stairs by Spoil-sport, who, as a vigilant sentinel, continued to
+dispute the passage. "Is the animal mad, I say? Why don't you tie him
+up? Have you not caused trouble enough in my house? I tell you, that Mr.
+Burgomaster is waiting to examine you in your turn, for he has finished
+with Morok."
+
+Dagobert drew his fingers through his gray locks and across his
+moustache, clasped the collar of his top-coat, and brushed the sleeves
+with his hand, in order to give himself the best appearance possible;
+for he felt that the fate of the orphans must depend on his interview
+with the magistrate. It was not without a violent beating of the heart,
+that he laid his hand upon the door-knob, saying to the young girls, who
+were growing more and more frightened by such a succession of events:
+"Hide yourselves in your bed, my children; if any one must needs enter,
+it shall be the burgomaster alone."
+
+Thereupon, opening the door, the soldier stepped out on the landing
+place, and said: "Down, Spoil-sport!--Here!"
+
+The dog obeyed, but with manifest repugnance. His master had to speak
+twice, before he would abstain from all hostile movements towards the
+host. This latter, with a lantern in one hand and his cap in the other,
+respectfully preceded the burgomaster, whose magisterial proportions
+were lost in the half shadows of the staircase. Behind the judge, and
+a few steps lower, the inquisitive faces of the people belonging to the
+inn were dimly visible by the light of another lantern.
+
+Dagobert, having turned the dog into the room, shut the door after him,
+and advanced two steps on the landing-place, which was sufficiently
+spacious to hold several persons, and had in one corner a wooden bench
+with a back to it. The burgomaster, as he ascended the last stair, was
+surprised to see Dagobert close the door of the chamber, as though he
+wished to forbid his entrance. "Why do you shut that door?" asked he in
+an abrupt tone.
+
+"First, because two girls, whom I have the charge of, are in bed in
+that room; secondly, because your examination would alarm them," replied
+Dagobert. "Sit down upon this bench, Mr. Burgomaster, and examine me
+here; it will not make any difference, I should think."
+
+"And by what right," asked the judge, with a displeased air, "do you
+pretend to dictate to me the place of your examination?"
+
+"Oh, I have no such pretension, Mr. Burgomaster!" said the soldier
+hastily, fearing above all things to prejudice the judge against him:
+"only, as the girls are in bed, and already much frightened, it would be
+a proof of your good heart to examine me where I am."
+
+"Humph!" said the magistrate, with ill-humor; "a pretty state of things,
+truly!--It was much worth while to disturb me in the middle of the
+night. But, come, so be it; I will examine you here." Then, turning to
+the landlord, he added: "Put your lantern upon this bench, and leave
+us."
+
+The innkeeper obeyed, and went down, followed by his people, as
+dissatisfied as they were at being excluded from the examination. The
+veteran was left alone with the magistrate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. THE JUDGEMENT.
+
+The worthy burgomaster of Mockern wore a cloth cap, and was enveloped in
+a cloak. He sat down heavily on the bench. He was a corpulent man, about
+sixty, with an arrogant, morose countenance; and he frequently rubbed
+with his red, fat fist, eyes that were still swollen and blood shot,
+from his having been suddenly roused from sleep.
+
+Dagobert stood bareheaded before him, with a submissive, respectful air,
+holding his old foraging cap in his hands, and trying to read in the
+sullen physiognomy of his judge what chance there might be to interest
+him in his favor--that is, in favor of the orphans.
+
+In this critical juncture, the poor soldier summoned to his aid all his
+presence of mind, reason, eloquence and resolution. He, who had twenty
+times braved death with the utmost coolness--who, calm and serene,
+because sincere and tried, had never quailed before the eagle-glance
+of the Emperor, his hero and idol--now felt himself disconcerted and
+trembling before the ill-humored face of a village burgomaster. Even
+so, a few hours before, he had submitted, impassive and resigned, to the
+insults of the Prophet--that he might not compromise the sacred mission
+with which a dying mother had entrusted him--thus showing to what a
+height of heroic abnegation it is possible for a simple and honest heart
+to attain.
+
+"What have you to say in your justification? Come, be quick!" said the
+judge roughly, with a yawn of impatience.
+
+"I have not got to justify myself--I have to make a complaint, Mr.
+Burgomaster," replied Dagobert in a firm voice.
+
+"Do you think you are to teach me in what terms I am to put my
+questions?" exclaimed the magistrate, in so sharp a tone that the
+soldier reproached himself with having begun the interview so badly.
+Wishing to pacify his judge, he made haste to answer with submission:
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Burgomaster, I have ill-explained my meaning. I only
+wished to say that I was not wrong in this affair."
+
+"The Prophet says the contrary."
+
+"The Prophet?" repeated the soldier, with an air of doubt.
+
+"The Prophet is a pious and honest man," resumed the judge, "incapable
+of falsehood."
+
+"I cannot say anything upon that subject; but you are too just, and have
+too good a heart, Mr. Burgomaster, to condemn without hearing me. It is
+not a man like you that would do an injustice; oh, one can see that at a
+glance!"
+
+In resigning himself thus to play the part of a courtier, Dagobert
+softened as much as possible his gruff voice, and strove to give to his
+austere countenance a smiling, agreeable, and flattering expression.
+"A man like you," he added, with redoubled suavity of manner, "a
+respectable judge like you, never shuts his ears to one side or the
+other."
+
+"Ears are not in question, but eyes; and, though mine smart as if I had
+rubbed them with nettles, I have seen the hand of the brute-tamer, with
+a frightful wound on it."
+
+"Yes, Mr. Burgomaster, it is very true; but consider, if he had shut his
+cages and his door, all this would not have happened."
+
+"Not so; it is your fault. You should have fastened your horse securely
+to the manger."
+
+"You are right, Mr. Burgomaster, certainly, you are right," said the
+soldier, in a still more affable and conciliating voice. "It is not for
+a poor devil like me to contradict you. But supposing my horse was
+let loose out of pure malice, in order that he might stray into the
+menagerie--you will then acknowledge that it was not my fault. That is,
+you will acknowledge it if you think fit," hastily added the soldier "I
+have no right to dictate to you in anything."
+
+"And why the devil should any one do you this ill-turn?"
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Burgomaster--but--"
+
+"You do not know--well, nor I either," said the burgomaster impatiently.
+"Zounds! what a many words about the carcass of an old horse!"
+
+The countenance of the soldier, losing on a sudden its expression of
+forced suavity, became once more severe; he answered in a grave voice,
+full of emotion: "My horse is dead--he is no more than a carcass--that
+is true; but an hour ago, though very old, he was full of life and
+intelligence. He neighed joyously at my voice--and, every evening, he
+licked the hands of the two poor children, whom he had carried all the
+day--as formerly he had carried their mother. Now he will never
+carry any one again; they will throw him to the dogs, and all will
+be finished. You need not have reminded me harshly of it, Mr.
+Burgomaster--for I loved my horse!"
+
+By these words, pronounced with noble and touching simplicity, the
+burgomaster was moved in spite of himself, and regretted his hasty
+speech. "It is natural that you should be sorry for your horse,"
+said he, in a less impatient tone; "but what is to be done?--It is a
+misfortune."
+
+"A misfortune?--Yes, Mr. Burgomaster, a very great misfortune. The
+girls, who accompany me, were too weak to undertake a long journey on
+foot, too poor to travel in a carriage--and yet we have to arrive in
+Paris before the month of February. When their mother died, I promised
+her to take them to France, for these children have only me to take care
+of them."
+
+"You are then their--"
+
+"I am their faithful servant, Mr. Burgomaster; and now that my horse
+has been killed, what can I do for them? Come, you are good, you have
+perhaps children of your own; if, one day, they should find themselves
+in the position of my two little orphans--with no wealth, no resources
+in the world, but an old soldier who loves them, and an old horse
+to carry them along--if, after being very unfortunate from their
+birth--yes, very unfortunate, for my orphans are the daughters of
+exiles--they should see happiness before them at the end of a
+journey, and then, by the death of their horse, that journey become
+impossible--tell me, Mr. Burgomaster, if this would not touch your
+heart? Would you not find, as I do, that the loss of my horse is
+irreparable?"
+
+"Certainly," answered the burgomaster, who was not ill natured at
+bottom, and who could not help taking part in Dagobert's emotion; "I now
+understand the importance of the loss you have suffered. And then your
+orphans interest me: how old are they?"
+
+"Fifteen years and two months. They are twins."
+
+"Fifteen years and two months--that is about the age of my Frederica."
+
+"You have a young lady of that age?" cried Dagobert, once more awaking
+to hope; "ah, Mr. Burgomaster! I am really no longer uneasy about my
+poor children. You will do us justice."
+
+"To do justice is my duty. After all, in this affair, the faults are
+about equal on both sides. You tied up your horse badly, and the brute
+tamer left his door open. He says: 'I am wounded in the hand.' You
+answer: 'My horse has been killed--and, for a thousand reasons, the loss
+of my horse is irreparable.'"
+
+"You make me speak better than I could ever speak on my own account, Mr.
+Burgomaster," said the soldier, with a humble, insinuating smile; "but
+'tis what I meant to express--and, as you say yourself, Mr. Burgomaster,
+my horse being my whole fortune, it is only fair--"
+
+"Exactly so," resumed the magistrate, interrupting the soldier; "your
+reasons are excellent. The Prophet--who is a good and pious man with all
+has related the facts to me in his own way; and then, you see, he is an
+old acquaintance. We are nearly all zealous Catholics here, and he sells
+to our wives such cheap and edifying little books, with chaplets and
+amulets of the best manufacture, at less than the prime cost. All this,
+you will say, has nothing to do with the affair; and you will be right
+in saying so: still I must needs confess that I came here with the
+intention--"
+
+"Of deciding against me, eh, Mr. Burgomaster?" said Dagobert, gaining
+more and more confidence. "You see, you were not quite awake, and your
+justice had only one eye open."
+
+"Really, master soldier," answered the judge with good humor, "it is not
+unlikely; for I did not conceal from Morok that I gave it in his favor.
+Then he said to me (very generously, by the way): 'Since you condemn
+my adversary, I will not aggravate his position by telling you certain
+things--'"
+
+"What! against me?"
+
+"Apparently so; but, like a generous enemy, when I told him that I
+should most likely condemn you to pay him damages, he said no more about
+it. For I will not hide from you, that, before I heard your reasons,
+I fully intended that you should make compensation for the Prophet's
+wound."
+
+"See, Mr. Burgomaster, how the most just and able persons are subject
+to be deceived," said Dagobert, becoming once more the courtier; then,
+trying to assume a prodigiously knowing look, he added: "But such
+persons find out the truth at last, and are not to be made dupes of,
+whatever prophets may say."
+
+This poor attempt at a jest--the first and only one, perhaps, that
+Dagobert had ever been guilty of--will show the extremity to which he
+was reduced, and the desperate efforts of all kinds he was making to
+conciliate the good graces of his judge. The burgomaster did not at
+first see the pleasantry; he was only led to perceive it by the self
+satisfied mien of Dagobert, and by his inquiring glance, which seemed to
+say: "Is it not good, eh?--I am astonished at it myself."
+
+The magistrate began, therefore, to smile with a patronizing air, and,
+nodding his head, replied in the same jocular spirit: "Ha! Ha! Ha! You
+are right; the Prophet is out in his prophecy. You shall not pay him any
+damages. The faults on both sides are equal, and the injuries balance
+one another. He has been wounded, your horse has been killed; so you may
+cry quits, and have done with it."
+
+"But how much then, do you think he owes me?" asked the soldier, with
+singular simplicity.
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Burgomaster, what sum will he have to pay me? Yes--but, before
+you decide, I must tell you one thing, Mr. Burgomaster. I think I shall
+be entitled to spend only part of the money in buying a horse. I am
+sure, that, in the environs of Leipsic, I could get a beast very cheap
+from some of the peasants; and, between ourselves, I will own to you,
+that, if I could meet with only a nice little donkey--I should not be
+over particular--I should even like it just as well; for, after my poor
+Jovial, the company of another horse would be painful to me. I must also
+tell you--"
+
+"Hey-day!" cried the burgomaster, interrupting Dagobert, "of what money,
+what donkey, and what other horse are you talking? I tell you, that you
+owe nothing to the Prophet, and that he owes you nothing!"
+
+"He owes me nothing?"
+
+"You are very dull of comprehension, my good man. I repeat, that, if the
+Prophet's animals have killed your horse, the Prophet himself has
+been badly wounded; so you may cry quits. In other words, you owe him
+nothing, and he owes you nothing. Now do you understand?"
+
+Dagobert, confounded, remained for some moments without answering,
+whilst he looked at the burgomaster with an expression of deep anguish.
+He saw that his judgment would again destroy all his hopes.
+
+"But, Mr. Burgomaster," resumed he, in an agitated voice, "you are too
+just not to pay attention to one thing: the wound of the brute-tamer
+does not prevent him from continuing his trade; the death of my horse
+prevents me from continuing my journey; therefore, he ought to indemnify
+me."
+
+The judge considered he had already done a good deal for Dagobert, in
+not making him responsible for the wound of the Prophet, who, as we have
+already said, exercised a certain influence over the Catholics of the
+country by the sale of his devotional treasures, and also from its being
+known that he was supported by some persons of eminence. The soldier's
+pertinacity, therefore, offended the magistrate, who, reassuming his
+lofty air, replied, in a chilling tone: "You will make me repent my
+impartiality. How is this? Instead of thanking me, you ask for more."
+
+"But, Mr. Burgomaster, I ask only for what is just. I wish I were
+wounded in the hand, like the Prophet, so that I could but continue my
+journey."
+
+"We are not talking of what you wish. I have pronounced sentence--there
+is no more to say."
+
+"But, Mr. Burgomaster--"
+
+"Enough, enough. Let us go to the next subject. Your papers?"
+
+"Yes, we will speak about my papers; but I beg of you, Mr. Burgomaster,
+to have pity on those two children. Let us have the means to continue
+our journey, and--"
+
+"I have done all I could for you--perhaps, more than I ought. Once
+again, your papers!"
+
+"I must first explain to you--"
+
+"No! No explanation--your papers!--Or would you like me to have you
+arrested as a vagabond?"
+
+"Me---arrested!"
+
+"I tell you that, if you refuse to show me your papers, it will be as if
+you had none. Now, those people who have no papers we take into custody
+till the authorities can dispose of them. Let me see your papers, and
+make haste!--I am in a hurry to get home."
+
+Dagobert's position was the more distressing, as for a moment he had
+indulged in sanguine hope. The last blow was now added to all the
+veteran had suffered since the commencement of this scene, which was a
+cruel as well as dangerous trial, for a man of his character--upright,
+but obstinate--faithful, but rough and absolute--a man who, for a long
+time a soldier, and a victorious one, had acquired a certain despotic
+mariner of treating with civilians.
+
+At these words--"your papers," Dagobert became very pale; but he tried
+to conceal his anguish beneath an air of assurance, which he thought
+best calculated to gain the magistrate's good opinion. "I will tell you
+all about it, Mr. Burgomaster," said he. "Nothing can be clearer. Such
+a thing might happen to any one. I do not look like a beggar and a
+vagabond, do I? And yet--you will understand, that an honest man who
+travels with two young girls--"
+
+"No more words! Your papers!"
+
+At this juncture two powerful auxiliaries arrived to the soldier's aid.
+The orphans, growing more and more uneasy, and hearing Dagobert still
+talking upon the landing-place, had risen and dressed themselves; so
+that just at the instant, when the magistrate said in a rough voice--"No
+more words! Your papers!"--Rose and Blanche holding each other by the
+hand, came forth from the chamber.
+
+At sight of those charming faces, which their poor mourning vestments
+only rendered more interesting, the burgomaster rose from his seat,
+struck with surprise and admiration. By a spontaneous movement, each
+sister took a hand of Dagobert, and pressed close to him, whilst they
+regarded the magistrate with looks of mingled anxiety and candor.
+
+It was so touching a picture, this of the old soldier presenting as
+it were to his judge the graceful children, with countenances full of
+innocence and beauty, that the burgomaster, by a sudden reaction, found
+himself once more disposed to sentiments of pity. Dagobert perceived it;
+and, still holding the orphans by the hand, he advanced towards him, and
+said in a feeling voice: "Look at these poor children, Mr. Burgomaster!
+Could I show you a better passport?" And, overcome by so many
+painful sensations--restrained, yet following each other in quick
+succession--Dagobert felt, in spite of himself, that the tears were
+starting to his eyes.
+
+Though naturally rough, and rendered still more testy by the
+interruption of his sleep, the burgomaster was not quite deficient in
+sense of feeling. He perceived at once, that a man thus accompanied,
+ought not to inspire any great distrust. "Poor dear children!" said he,
+as he examined them with growing interest; "orphans so young, and they
+come from far--"
+
+"From the heart of Siberia, Mr. Burgomaster, where their mother was an
+exile before their birth. It is now more than five months that we have
+been travelling on by short stages--hard enough, you will say, for
+children of their age. It is for them that I ask your favor and support
+for them against whom everything seems to combine to-day for, only just
+now, when I went to look for my papers, I could not find in my knapsack
+the portfolio in which they were, along with my purse and cross--for you
+must know, Mr. Burgomaster--pardon me, if I say it--'tis not from vain
+glory--but I was decorated by the hand of the Emperor; and a man whom
+he decorated with his own hand, you see, could not be so bad a fellow,
+though he may have had the misfortune to lose his papers--and his
+purse. That's what has happened to me, and made me so pressing about the
+damages."
+
+"How and where did you suffer this loss?"
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Burgomaster; I am sure that the evening before
+last, at bed-time, I took a little money out of the purse, and saw the
+portfolio in its place; yesterday I had small change sufficient, and did
+not undo the knapsack."
+
+"And where then has the knapsack been kept?"
+
+"In the room occupied by the children: but this night--"
+
+Dagobert was here interrupted by the tread of some one mounting the
+stairs: it was the Prophet. Concealed in the shadow of the staircase, he
+had listened to this conversation, and he dreaded lest the weakness of
+the burgomaster should mar the complete success of his projects.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE DECISION.
+
+Morok, who wore his left arm in a sling, having slowly ascended the
+staircase, saluted the burgomaster respectfully. At sight of the
+repulsive countenance of the lion-tamer, Rose and Blanche, affrighted,
+drew back a step nearer to the soldier. The brow of the latter grew
+dark, for he felt his blood boil against Morok, the cause of all
+his difficulties--though he was yet ignorant that Goliath, at the
+instigation of the Prophet, had stolen his portfolio and papers.
+
+"What did you want, Morok?" said the burgomaster, with an air half
+friendly and half displeased. "I told the landlord that I did not wish
+to be interrupted."
+
+"I have come to render you a service, Mr. Burgomaster."
+
+"A service?"
+
+"Yes, a great service; or I should not have ventured to disturb you. My
+conscience reproaches me."
+
+"Your conscience."
+
+"Yes, Mr. Burgomaster, it reproaches me for not having told you all that
+I had to tell about this man; a false pity led me astray."
+
+"Yell, but what have you to tell?"
+
+Morok approached the judge, and spoke to him for sometime in a low
+voice.
+
+At first apparently much astonished, the burgomaster became by degrees
+deeply attentive and anxious; every now and then be allowed some
+exclamation of surprise or doubt to escape him, whilst he glanced
+covertly at the group formed by Dagobert and the two young girls. By
+the expression of his countenance, which grew every moment more unquiet,
+severe, and searching, it was easy to perceive that the interest
+which the magistrate had felt for the orphans and for the soldier, was
+gradually changed, by the secret communications of the Prophet, into a
+sentiment of distrust and hostility.
+
+Dagobert saw this sudden revolution, and his fears, which had been
+appeased for an instant, returned with redoubled force; Rose and
+Blanche, confused, and not understanding the object of this mute scene,
+looked at the soldier with increased perplexity.
+
+"The devil!" said the burgomaster, rising abruptly; "all of this never
+occurred to me. What could I have been thinking of?--But you see, Morok,
+when one is roused up in the middle of the night, one has not always
+presence of mind. You said well: it is a great service you came to
+render me."
+
+"I assert nothing positively, but--"
+
+"No matter; 'tis a thousand to one that you are right."
+
+"It is only a suspicion founded upon divers circumstances; but even a
+suspicion--"
+
+"May give you scent of the truth. And here was I, going like a gull into
+the snare!--Once more, what could I have been thinking of?"
+
+"It is so difficult to be on guard against certain appearances."
+
+"You need not tell me so, my dear Morok, you need not tell me so."
+
+During this mysterious conversation, Dagobert was on thorns; he saw
+vaguely that a violent storm was about to burst. He thought only of how
+he should still keep his anger within bounds.
+
+Morok again approached the judge, and glancing at the orphans,
+recommenced speaking in a low voice. "Oh" cried the burgomaster, with,
+indignation, "you go too far now."
+
+"I affirm nothing," said Morok, hastily; "it is a mere supposition
+founded on--" and he again brought his lips close to the ear of the
+judge.
+
+"After all, why not?" resumed the magistrate, lifting up his hands;
+"such people are capable of anything. He says that he brings them from
+the heart of Siberia: why may not all this prove to be a tissue of
+impudent falsehoods?--But I am not to be made a dupe twice," cried
+the burgomaster, in an angry tone, for, like all persons of a weak
+and shifting character, he was without pity for those whom he thought
+capable of having beguiled his compassion.
+
+"Do not be in a hurry to decide--don't give to my words more weight
+than they deserve," resumed Morok with a hypocritical affectation of
+humility. "I am unhappily placed in so false a position with regard to
+this man,"--pointing to Dagober--"that I might be thought to have acted
+from private resentment for the injury he has done me; perhaps I may so
+act without knowing it, while I fancy that I am only influenced by love
+of justice, horror of falsehood, and respect for our holy religion.
+Well--who lives long enough will know--and may heaven forgive me if I
+am deceived!--In any case, the law will pronounce upon it; and if they
+should prove innocent, they will be released in a month or two."
+
+"And, for that reason, I need not hesitate. It is a mere measure of
+precaution; they will not die of it. Besides, the more I think of it,
+the more it seems probable. Yes this man is doubtless a French spy
+or agitator, especially when I compare these suspicions with the late
+demonstration of the students at Frankfort."
+
+"And, upon that theory, nothing is better fitted to excite and stir
+up those hot-headed youths than--" He glanced significantly at the two
+sisters; then, after a pause, he added with a sigh, "Satan does not care
+by what means he works out his ends!"
+
+"Certainly, it would be odious, but well-devised."
+
+"And then, Mr Burgomaster, look at him attentively: you will see that
+this man has a dangerous face. You will see--"
+
+In continuing thus to speak in a low tone, Morok had evidently pointed
+to Dagobert. The latter, notwithstanding his self-command, felt that the
+restraint he had imposed upon himself, since his arrival at this unlucky
+inn, and above all wince the commencement of the conversation between
+Morok and the burgomaster, was becoming no longer bearable; besides, he
+saw clearly that all his efforts to conciliate the favor of the judge
+were rendered completely null by the fatal influence of the brute-tamer;
+so, losing patience, he advanced towards him with his arms folded on his
+breast, and said to him in a subdued voice: "Was it of me that you were
+whispering to Mr. Burgomaster?"
+
+"Yes," said Morok, looking fixedly at him.
+
+"Why did you not speak out loud?" Having said this, the almost
+convulsive movement of his thick moustache, as he stood looping Morok
+full in the face, gave evidence of a severe internal conflict. Seeing
+that his adversary preserved a contemptuous silence, he repeated in
+a sterner voice: "I ask you, why you did not speak out loud to Mr.
+Burgomaster, when you were talking of me?"
+
+"Because there are some things so shameful, that one would blush to
+utter them aloud," answered Morok insolently.
+
+Till then Dagobert had kept his arms folded; he now extended them
+violently, clenching his fists. This sudden movement was so expressive
+that the two sisters uttered a cry of terror, and drew closer to him.
+
+"Hark ye, Mr. Burgomaster!" said the soldier, grinding his teeth with
+rage: "bid that man go down, or I will not answer for myself!"
+
+"What!" said the burgomaster, haughtily; "do you dare to give orders to
+me?"
+
+"I tell you to make that man go down," resumed Dagobert, quite beside
+himself, "or there will be mischief!"
+
+"Dagobert!--good heaven!--be calm," cried the children, grasping his
+hands.
+
+"It becomes you, certainly--miserable vagabond that you are--not to say
+worse," returned the burgomaster, in a rage: "it becomes you to give
+orders to me!--Oh! you think to impose upon me, by telling me you have
+lost your papers!--It will not serve your turn, for which you carry
+about with you these two girls, who, in spite of their innocent looks,
+are perhaps after all--"
+
+"Wretch!" cried Dagobert, with so terrible a voice and gesture that the
+official did not dare to finish. Taking the children by the arm before
+they could speak a word, the soldier pushed them back into the chamber;
+then, locking the door, and putting the key into his pocket, he returned
+precipitately towards the burgomaster, who, frightened at the menacing
+air and attitude of the veteran, retreated a couple of steps, and held
+by one hand to the rail of the staircase.
+
+"Listen to me!" said the soldier, seizing the judge by the arm. "Just
+now, that scoundrel insulted me--I bore with it--for it only concerned
+myself. I have heard patiently all your idle talk, because you seemed
+for a moment to interest yourself in those poor children. But since you
+have neither soul, nor pity, nor justice--I tell you that, burgomaster
+though you are--I will spurn you as I would spurn that dog," pointing
+again to the Prophet, "if you have the misfortune to mention those
+two young girls, in any other way than you would speak of your own
+child!--Now, do you mark me?"
+
+"What!--you dare to say," cried the burgomaster, stammering with rage,
+"that if I happen to mention two adventuresses--"
+
+"Hats off!--when you speak of the daughters of the Duke of Ligny," cried
+the soldier, snatching the cap of the burgomaster and flinging it on
+the ground. On this act of aggression, Morok could not restrain his joy.
+Exasperated and losing all hope, Dagobert had at length yielded to the
+violence of his anger, after struggling so painfully against it for some
+hours.
+
+When the burgomaster saw his cap at his feet, he looked at the brute
+tamer with an air of stupefaction, as if he hesitated to believe so
+great an enormity. Dagobert, regretting, his violence, and feeling that
+no means of conciliation note remained, threw a rapid glance around
+him, and, retreating several paces, gained the topmost steps of the
+staircase. The burgomaster stood near the bench, in a corner of the
+landing-place, whilst Morok, with his arm in the sling, to give the more
+serious appearance to his wound, was close beside him. "So!" cried the
+magistrate, deceived by the backward movement of Dagobert, "you think to
+escape, after daring to lift hand against me!--Old villain!"
+
+"Forgive me, Mr. Burgomaster! It was a burst of rashness that I was not
+able to control. I am sorry for it," said Dagobert in a repentant voice,
+and hanging his head humbly.
+
+"No pity for thee, rascal! You would begin again to smooth me over with
+your coaxing ways, but I have penetrated your secret designs. You are
+not what you appear to be, and there is perhaps an affair of state at
+the bottom of all this," added the magistrate, in a very diplomatic
+tone. "All means are alike to those who wish to set Europe in flames."
+
+"I am only a poor devil, Mr. Burgomaster; you, that have a good heart,
+will show me some mercy."
+
+"What! when you have pulled off my cap?"
+
+"And you," added the soldier, turning towards Morok, "you, that
+have been the cause of all this--have same pity upon me--do not bear
+malice!--You, a holy man, speak a word in my favor to Mr. Burgomaster."
+
+"I have spoken to him what I was bound to speak," answered the Prophet
+ironically.
+
+"Oho! you can look foolish enough now, you old vagabond! Did you think
+to impose on me with lamentations?" resumed the burgomaster, advancing
+towards Dagobert. "Thanks be, I am no longer your dupe!--You shall see
+that we have good dungeons at Leipsic for French agitators and female
+vagrants, for your damsels are no better than you are. Come," added he,
+puffing out his cheeks with an important air, "go down before me--and as
+for you, Morok--"
+
+The burgomaster was unable to finish. For some minutes Dagobert had only
+sought to gain time, and had cast many a side-glance at a half-open
+door on the landing-place, just opposite to the chamber occupied by the
+orphans: finding the moment favorable, he now rushed quick as lightning
+on the burgomaster, seized him by the throat, and dashed him with such
+violence against the door in question, that the magistrate, stupefied
+by this sudden attack, and unable to speak a word or utter a cry, rolled
+over to the further end of the room, which was completely dark. Then,
+turning towards Morok, who, with his arm encumbered by the sling, made
+a rush for the staircase, the soldier caught him by his long, streaming
+hair, pulled him back, clasped him with hands of iron, clapped his hand
+over his mouth to stifle his outcries, and notwithstanding his desperate
+resistance, dragged him into the chamber, on the floor of which the
+burgomaster lay bruised and stunned.
+
+Having double-locked the door, and put the key in his pocket, Dagobert
+descended the stairs at two bounds, and found himself in a passage, that
+opened on the court-yard. The gate of the inn was shut, and there was no
+possibility of escape on that side. The rain fell in torrents. He could
+see through the window of a parlor, in which a fire was burning, the
+host and his people waiting for the decision of the burgomaster. To bolt
+the door of the passage, and thus intercept all communication with the
+yard, was for the soldier the affair of an instant, and he hastened
+upstairs again to rejoin the orphans.
+
+Morok, recovering from his surprise, was calling for help with all his
+might; but, even if the distance had permitted him to be heard, the
+noise of the wind and rain would have drowned his outcries. Dagobert
+had about an hour before him, for it would require some time to elapse
+before the length of his interview with the magistrate would excite
+astonishment; and, suspicion or fear once awakened, it would be
+necessary to break open two doors--that which separated the passage from
+the court-yard, and that of the room in which the burgomaster and the
+Prophet were confined.
+
+"My children, it is now time to prove that you have a soldier's blood
+in your veins," said Dagobert, as he entered abruptly the chamber of the
+young girls, who were terrified at the racket they had heard for some
+minutes.
+
+"Good heaven, Dagobert! what has happened?" cried Blanche.
+
+"What do you wish us to do?" added Rose.
+
+Without answering, the soldier ran to the bed, tore off the sheets, tied
+them strongly together, made a knot at one end, passed it over the top
+of the left half of the casement, and so shut it in. Thus made fast by
+the size of the knot, which could not slip through, the sheets, floating
+on the outside, touched the ground. The second half of the window was
+left open, to afford a passage to the fugitives.
+
+The veteran next took his knapsack, the children's portmanteau, and the
+reindeer pelisse, and threw them all out of the window, making a sign to
+Spoil-sport to follow, to watch over them. The dog did not hesitate, but
+disappeared at a single bound. Rose and Blanche looked at Dagobert in
+amazement, without uttering a word.
+
+"Now, children," said he to them, "the doors of the inn are shut, and it
+is by this way," pointing to the window, "that we must pass--if we
+would not be arrested, put in prison--you in one place, and I in the
+other--and have our journey altogether knocked on the head."
+
+"Arrested! put in prison!" cried Rose.
+
+"Separated from you!" exclaimed Blanche.
+
+"Yes, my poor children!--They have killed Jovial--we must make our
+escape on foot, and try to reach Leipsic--when you are tired, I will
+carry you, and, though I have to beg my way, we will go through with it.
+But a quarter of an hour later, and all will be lost. Come, children,
+have trust in me--show that the daughters of General Simon are no
+cowards--and there is yet hope."
+
+By a sympathetic movement, the sisters joined hands, as though they
+would meet the danger united. Their sweet faces, pale from the effect of
+so many painful emotions, were now expressive of simple resolve, founded
+on the blind faith they reposed in the devotion of the soldier.
+
+"Be satisfied, Dagobert! we'll not be frightened," said Rose, in a firm
+voice.
+
+"We will do what must be done," added Blanche, in a no less resolute
+tone.
+
+"I was sure of it," cried Dagobert; "good blood is ever thicker than
+water. Come! you are light as feathers, the sheet is strong, it is
+hardly eight feet to the ground, and the pup is waiting for you."
+
+"It is for me to go first--I am the eldest for to-day," cried Rose, when
+she had tenderly embraced Blanche; and she ran to the window, in order,
+if there were any danger, to expose herself to it before her sister.
+
+Dagobert easily guessed the cause of this eagerness. "Dear children!"
+said he, "I understand you. But fear nothing for one another--there is
+no danger. I have myself fastened the sheet. Quick, my little Rose!"
+
+As light as a bird, the young girl mounted the ledge of the window,
+and assisted by Dagobert, took hold of the sheet, and slid gently down
+according to the recommendation of the soldier, who, leaning out his
+whole body, encouraged her with his voice.
+
+"Don't be afraid, sister!" said she, as soon as she touched the ground,
+"it is very easy to come down this way. And Spoil-sport is here, licking
+my hands." Blanche did not long keep her waiting; as courageous as her
+sister, she descended with the same success.
+
+"Dear little creatures! what have they done to be so
+unfortunate?--Thousand thunders! there must be a curse upon the family,"
+cried Dagobert, as, with heavy heart, he saw the pale, sweet face of
+the young girl disappear amid the gloom of the dark night, which violent
+squalls of wind and torrents of rain rendered still more dismal.
+
+"Dagobert, we are waiting for you; come quickly!" said the orphans in
+a low voice, from beneath the window. Thanks to his tall stature, the
+soldier rather leaped than glided to the ground.
+
+Dagobert and the two young girls had not fled from the inn of the White
+Falcon more than a quarter of an hour, when a long crash resounded
+through the house. The door had yielded to the efforts of the
+burgomaster and Morok, who had made use of a heavy table as a battering
+ram. Guided by the light, they ran to the chamber of the orphans, now
+deserted. Morok saw the sheets floating from the casement, and cried:
+"Mr. Burgomaster, they have escaped by the window--they are on foot--in
+this dark and stormy night, they cannot be far."
+
+"No doubt, we shall catch them, the miserable tramps! Oh, I will be
+revenged! Quick, Morok; your honor is concerned as well as mine."
+
+"My honor?--Much more is concerned than that, Mr. Burgomaster," answered
+the Prophet, in a tone of great irritation. Then, rapidly descending the
+stairs, he opened the door of the court-yard, and shouted in a voice of
+thunder:
+
+"Goliath! unchain the dogs!--and, landlord! bring us lanterns,
+torches--arm your people--open the doors!--We must pursue the fugitives;
+they cannot escape us; we must have them--alive or dead!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. THE DESPATCHES.
+
+When we read, in the rules of the order of the Jesuits, under the title
+De formula scribendi (Institut. 2, 11, p. 125, 129), the development
+of the 8th part of the constitutions, we are appalled by the number of
+letters, narratives, registers, and writings of all kinds, preserved in
+the archives of the society.
+
+It is a police infinitely more exact and better informed than has ever
+been that of any state. Even the government of Venice found itself
+surpassed by the Jesuits: when it drove them out in 1606, it seized
+all their papers, and reproached them for their great and laborious
+curiosity. This police, this secret inquisition, carried to such
+a degree of perfection, may give some idea of the strength of a
+government, so well-informed so persevering in its projects, so powerful
+by its unity, and, as the constitutions have it, by the union of its
+members. It is not hard to understand, what immense force must belong to
+the heads of this society, and how the general of the Jesuits could say
+to the Duke de Brissac: "From this room, your grace, I govern not only
+Paris, but China--not only China, but the whole world--and all without
+any one knowing how it is done:" (Constitution of the Jesuits, edited by
+Paulin, Paris, 1843.)
+
+Morok, the lion-tamer, seeing Dagobert deprived of his horse, and
+stripped of his money and papers, and thinking it was thus out of his
+power to continue his journey, had, previous to the arrival of the
+burgomaster, despatched Karl to Leipsic, as the bearer of a letter which
+he was to put immediately into the post. The address of this letter was
+as follows: "A Monsieur Rodin, Rue du Milieu des Ursins, Paris."
+
+About the middle of this obscure and solitary street, situate below the
+level of the Quai Napoleon, which it joins not far from the Rue Saint
+Landry, there stood a house of unpretentious appearance, at the bottom
+of a dark and narrow court-yard, separated from the street by a low
+building in front, with arched doorway, and two windows protected by
+thick iron bars. Nothing could be more simple than the interior of this
+quiet dwelling, as was sufficiently shown by the furniture of a pretty
+large room on the ground floor. The walls of this apartment were lined
+with old gray wainscot; the tiled floor was painted red, and carefully
+polished; curtains of white calico shaded the windows.
+
+A sphere of about four feet in diameter, raised on a pedestal of massive
+oak, stood at one end of the room, opposite to the fireplace. Upon this
+globe, which was painted on a large scale, a host of little red crosses
+appeared scattered over all parts of the world--from the North to the
+South, from the rising to the setting sun, from the most barbarous
+countries, from the most distant isles, to the centres of civilization,
+to France itself. There was not a single country which did not present
+some spots marked with these red crosses, evidently indicative of
+stations, or serving as points of reference.
+
+Before a table of black wood, loaded with papers, and resting against
+the wall near the chimney, a chair stood empty. Further on, between the
+two windows, was a large walnut-wood desk, surmounted by shelves full of
+pasteboard boxes.
+
+At the end of the month of October, 1831, about eight o'clock in
+the morning, a man sat writing at this desk. This was M. Rodin, the
+correspondent of Morok, the brute-tamer.
+
+About fifty years of age, he wore an old, shabby, olive greatcoat, with
+a greasy collar, a snuff-powdered cotton handkerchief for a cravat, and
+waistcoat and trousers of threadbare black cloth. His feet, buried in
+loose varnished shoes, rested on a petty piece of green baize upon
+the red, polished floor. His gray hair lay flat on his temples, and
+encircled his bald forehead; his eyebrows were scarcely marked; his
+upper eyelid, flabby and overhanging, like the membrane which shades the
+eyes of reptiles, half concealed his small, sharp, black eye. His thin
+lips, absolutely colorless, were hardly distinguishable from the wan hue
+of his lean visage, with its pointed nose and chin; and this livid mask
+(deprived as it were of lips) appeared only the more singular, from
+its maintaining a death-like immobility. Had it not been for the rapid
+movement of his fingers, as, bending over the desk, he scratched along
+with his pen, M. Rodin might have been mistaken for a corpse.
+
+By the aid of a cipher (or secret alphabet) placed before him he was
+copying certain passages from a long sheet full of writing, in a manner
+quite unintelligible to those who did not possess the key to the system.
+Whilst the darkness of the day increased the gloom of the large, cold,
+naked-looking apartment, there was something awful in the chilling
+aspect of this man, tracing his mysterious characters in the midst of
+profound silence.
+
+The clock struck eight. The dull sound of the knocker at the outer door
+was heard, then a bell tinkled twice, several doors opened and shut, and
+a new personage entered the chamber. On seeing him, M. Rodin rose
+from the desk, stuck his pen between his teeth, bowed with a deeply
+submissive air, and sat down again to his work without uttering a word.
+
+The two formed a striking contrast to one another. The newcomer, though
+really older than he seemed, would have passed for thirty-six or thirty
+eight years of age at most. His figure was tall and shapely, and few
+could have encountered the brightness of his large gray eye, brilliant
+as polished steel. His nose, broad at the commencement, formed a
+well-cut square at its termination; his chin was prominent, and the
+bluish tints of his close-shaved beard were contrasted with the bright
+carnation of his lips, and the whiteness of his fine teeth. When he took
+off his hat to change it for a black velvet cap which he found on the
+small table, he displayed a quantity of light chestnut hair, not yet
+silvered by time. He was dressed in a long frock-coat, buttoned up to
+the neck in military fashion.
+
+The piercing glance and broad forehead of this man revealed a powerful
+intellect, even as the development of his chest and shoulders announced
+a vigorous physical organization; whilst his gentlemanly appearance, the
+perfection of his gloves and boots, the light perfume which hung about
+his hair and person, the grace and ease of his least movements, betrayed
+what is called the man of the world, and left the impression that he
+had sought or might still seek every kind of success, from the most
+frivolous to the most serious. This rare combination of strength of
+mind, strength of body, and extreme elegance of manners, was in this
+instance rendered still more striking by the circumstance, that whatever
+there might be of haughtiness or command in the upper part of that
+energetic countenance, was softened down, and tempered by a constant
+but not uniform smile--for, as occasion served, this smile became
+either kind or sly, cordial or gay, discreet or prepossessing, and thus
+augmented the insinuating charm of this man, who, once seen, was never
+again forgotten. But, in yielding to this involuntary sympathy, the
+doubt occurred if the influence was for good--or for evil.
+
+M. Rodin, the secretary of the newcomer, continued to write.
+
+"Are there any letters from Dunkirk, Rodin?" inquired his master.
+
+"Post not yet in."
+
+"Without being positively uneasy as to my mother's health, since she
+was already convalescent," resumed the other, "I shall only be quite
+reassured by a letter from my excellent friend, the Princess de Saint
+Dizier. I shall have good news this morning, I hope."
+
+"It is to be desired," said the secretary, as humble and submissive as
+he was laconic and impassible.
+
+"Certainly it is to be desired," resumed his master; "for one of
+the brightest days of my life was when the Princess de Saint-Dizier
+announced to me that this sudden and dangerous illness had yielded to
+the care and attention with which she surrounds my mother. Had it not
+been for that I must have gone down to her instantly, though my presence
+here is very necessary."
+
+Then, approaching the desk, he added: "Is the summary of the foreign
+correspondence complete?"
+
+"Here is the analysis."
+
+"The letters are still sent under envelope to the places named, and are
+then brought here as I directed?"
+
+"Always."
+
+"Read to me the notes of this correspondence; if there are any letters
+for me to answer, I will tell you." And Rodin's master began to walk
+up and down the room, with his hands crossed behind his back, dictating
+observations of which Rodin took careful note.
+
+The secretary turned to a pretty large pile of papers, and thus began:
+
+"Don Raymond Olivarez acknowledges from Cadiz receipt of letter No.19;
+he will conform to it, and deny all share in the abduction."
+
+"Very well; file it."
+
+"Count Romanoff, of Riga, finds himself in a position of pecuniary
+embarrassment."
+
+"Let Duplessis send him fifty louis; I formerly served as captain in his
+regiment, and he has since given us good information."
+
+"They have received at Philadelphia the last cargo of Histories of
+France, expurgated for the use of the faithful they require some more of
+the same sort."
+
+"Take note of it, and write to Duplessis. Go on."
+
+"M. Spindler sends from Namur the secret report on M. Ardouin."
+
+"To be examined."
+
+"M. Ardouin sends from the same town the secret report on M. Spindler."
+
+"To be examined."
+
+"Doctor Van Ostadt, of the same town, sends a confidential note on the
+subject of Messrs. Spindler and Ardouin."
+
+"To be compared. Go on!"
+
+"Count Malipierri, of Turin, announces that the donation of 300,000
+francs is signed."
+
+"Inform Duplessis. What next?"
+
+"Don Stanislaus has just quitted the waters of Baden with Queen Marie
+Ernestine. He informs us that her majesty will receive with gratitude
+the promised advices, and will answer them with her own hand."
+
+"Make a note of it. I will myself write to the queen."
+
+Whilst Rodin was inscribing a few remarks on the margin of the paper,
+his master, continuing to walk up and down the room, found himself
+opposite to the globe marked with little red crosses, and stood
+contemplating it for a moment with a pensive air.
+
+Rodin continued: "In consequence of the state of the public mind in
+certain parts of Italy, where sundry agitators have turned their eyes in
+the direction of France, Father Arsenio writes from Milan, that it would
+be of importance to distribute profusely in that country, some little
+book, in which the French would be represented as impious and debauched,
+rapacious and bloody."
+
+"The idea is excellent. We might turn to good account the excesses
+committed by our troops in Italy during the wars of the Republic. You
+must employ Jacques Dumoulin to write it. He is full of gall, spite,
+and venom: the pamphlet will be scorching. Besides, I may furnish a
+few notes; but you must not pay Dumoulin till after delivery of the
+manuscript."
+
+"That is well understood: for, if we were to pay him beforehand, he
+would be drunk for a week in some low den. It was thus we had to pay
+him twice over for his virulent attack on the pantheistic tendencies of
+Professor Martin's philosophy."
+
+"Take note of it--and go on!"
+
+"The merchant announces that the clerk is about to send the banker to
+give in his accounts. You understand?' added Rodin, after pronouncing
+these words with a marked emphasis.
+
+"Perfectly," said the other, with a start; "they are but the expressions
+agreed on. What next?"
+
+"But the clerk," continued the secretary, "is restrained by a last
+scruple."
+
+After a moment's silence, during which the features of Rodin's master
+worked strongly, he thus resumed: "They must continue to act on the
+clerk's mind by silence and solitude; then, let him read once more the
+list of cases in which regicide is authorized and absolved. Go on!"
+
+"The woman Sydney writes from Dresden, that she waits for instructions.
+Violent scenes of jealousy on her account have again taken place between
+the father and son; but neither from these new bursts of mutual hatred,
+nor from the confidential communications which each has made to her
+against his rival, has she yet been able to glean the information
+required. Hitherto, she has avoided giving the preference to one or the
+other; but, should this situation be prolonged, she fears it may rouse
+their suspicion. Which ought she then to choose--the father or the son?"
+
+"The son--for jealous resentment will be much more violent and cruel in
+the old man, and, to revenge himself for the preference bestowed upon
+his son, he will perhaps tell what they have both such an interest to
+conceal. The next?"
+
+"Within the last three years, two maid-servants of Ambrosius whom
+we placed in that little parish in the mountains of the Valais, have
+disappeared, without any one knowing what has become of them. A third
+has just met with the same fate. The Protestants of the country are
+roused--talk of murder with frightful attendant circumstances--"
+
+"Until there is proof positive and complete of the fact, Ambrosius must
+be defended against these infamous calumnies, the work of a party that
+never shrinks from; monstrous inventions. Go on!"
+
+"Thompson, of Liverpool, has at length succeeded in procuring for Justin
+the place of agent or manager to Lord Stewart, a rich Irish Catholic,
+whose head grows daily weaker."
+
+"Let the fact be once verified, and Thompson shall have a premium of
+fifty louis. Make a note of it for Duplessis. Proceed."
+
+"Frantz Dichstein, of Vienna," resumed Rodin, "announces that his father
+has just died of the cholera, in a little village at some leagues from
+that city: for the epidemic continues to advance slowly, coming from the
+north of Russia by way of Poland."
+
+"It is true," said Rodin's master, interrupting him; "may its terrible
+march be stayed, and France be spared."
+
+"Frantz Dichstein," resumed Rodin, "says that his two brothers are
+determined to contest the donation made by his father, but that he is of
+an opposite opinion."
+
+"Consult the two persons that are charged with all matters of
+litigation. What next?"
+
+"The Cardinal Prince d'Amalfi will conform to the three first points of
+the proposal: he demands to make a reservation upon the fourth point."
+
+"No reserve!--Either full and absolute acceptance--or else war--and
+(mark me well) war without mercy--on him and his creatures. Go on!"
+
+"Fra Paolo announces that the Prince Boccari, chief of a redoubtable
+secret society, in despair at seeing his friends accuse him of
+treachery, in consequence of suspicions excited in their minds by Fra
+Paolo himself, has committed suicide."
+
+"Boccari! is it possible?" cried Rodin's master. "Boccari! the patriot
+Boccari! so dangerous a person!"
+
+"The patriot Boccari," repeated the impassible secretary.
+
+"Tell Duplessis to send an order for five-and-twenty louis to Fra Paolo.
+Make a note of it."
+
+"Hausman informs us that the French dancer, Albertine Ducornet, is the
+mistress of the reigning prince; she has the most complete influence
+over him, and it would be easy through her means to arrive at the end
+proposed, but that she is herself governed by her lover (condemned in
+France as a forger), and that she does nothing without consulting him."
+
+"Let Hausman get hold of this man--if his claims are reasonable, accede
+to them--and learn if the girl has any relations in Paris."
+
+"The Duke d'Orbano announces, that the king his master will authorize
+the new establishment, but on the conditions previously stated."
+
+"No condition!--either a frank adhesion or a positive refusal. Let
+us know our friends from our enemies. The more unfavorable the
+circumstances, the more we must show firmness, and overbear opposition
+by confidence in ourselves."
+
+"The same also announces, that the whole of the corps diplomatique
+continues to support the claims of the father of that young Protestant
+girl, who refuses to quit the convent where she has taken refuge, unless
+it be to marry her lover against her father's will."
+
+"Ah! the corps diplomatique continues to remonstrate in the father's
+name?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then, continue to answer, that the spiritual power has nothing to do
+with the temporal."
+
+At this moment, the bell of the outer door again sounded twice. "See who
+it is," said Rodin's master; and the secretary rose and left the room.
+The other continued to walk thoughtfully up and down, till, coming near
+to the huge globe, he stopped short before it.
+
+For some time he contemplated, in profound silence, the innumerable
+little red crosses, which appeared to cover, as with an immense net, all
+the countries of the earth. Reflecting doubtless on the invisible action
+of his power, which seemed to extend over the whole world, the features
+of this man became animated, his large gray eye sparkled, his nostrils
+swelled, and his manly countenance assumed an indescribable expression
+of pride, energy, and daring. With haughty brow and scornful lip, he
+drew still nearer to the globe, and leaned his strong hand upon the
+pole.
+
+This powerful pressure, an imperious movement, as of one taking
+possession, seemed to indicate, that he felt sure of governing this
+globe, on which he looked down from the height of his tall figure,
+and on which he rested his hand with so lofty and audacious an air of
+sovereignty.
+
+But now he no longer smiled. His eye threatened, and his large forehead
+was clad with a formidable scowl. The artist, who had wished to
+paint the demon of craft and pride, the infernal genius of insatiable
+domination, could not have chosen a more suitable model.
+
+When Rodin returned, the face of his master had recovered its ordinary
+expression. "It is the postman," said Rodin, showing the letters which
+he held in his hand; "there is nothing from Dunkirk."
+
+"Nothing?" cried his master--and his painful emotion formed a
+strange contrast to his late haughty and implacable expression of
+countenance--"nothing? no news of my mother?--Thirty-six hours more,
+then, of anxiety."
+
+"It seems to me, that, if the princess had bad news to give, she would
+have written. Probably the improvement goes on."
+
+"You are doubtless right, Rodin--but no matter--I am far from easy. If,
+to-morrow, the news should not be completely satisfactory, I set out for
+the estate of the princess. Why would my mother pass the autumn in that
+part of the country? The environs of Dunkirk do not, I fear, agree with
+her."
+
+After a few moments' silence, he added, as he continued to walk:
+"Well--these letters--whence are they?"
+
+Rodin looked at the post-marks, and replied: "Out of the four there are
+three relative to the great and important affairs of the medals."
+
+"Thank heaven!--provided the news be favorable," cried his master,
+with an expression of uneasiness, which showed how much importance he
+attached to this affair.
+
+"One is from Charlestown, and no doubt relative to Gabriel, the
+missionary," answered Rodin; "this other from Batavia, and no doubt
+concerns the Indian, Djalma. The third is from Leipsic, and will
+probably confirm that received yesterday, in which the lion-tamer,
+Morok, informed us, that, in accordance with his orders, and without his
+being compromised in any way, the daughters of General Simon would not
+be able to continue their journey."
+
+At the name of General Simon, a cloud passed over the features of
+Rodin's master.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE ORDERS.
+
+The principal houses correspond with that in Paris; they are also
+in direct communication with the General, who resides at Rome. The
+correspondence of the Jesuits so active, various, and organized in so
+wonderful a manner, has for its object to supply the heads with all the
+information they can require. Every day, the General receives a host
+of reports, which serve to check one another. In the central house, at
+Rome, are immense registers, in which are inscribed the names of all
+the Jesuits, of their adherents, and of all the considerable persons,
+whether friends or enemies, with whom they have any connection. In these
+registers are reported, without alteration, hatred or passion the
+facts relating to the life of each individual. It is the most gigantic
+biographical collection that has ever been formed. The frailties of a
+woman, the secret errors of a statesman, are chronicled in this book
+with the same cold impartiality. Drawn up for the purpose of being
+useful, these biographies are necessarily exact. When the Jesuits wish
+to influence an individual, they have but to turn to this book, and they
+know immediately his life, his character, his parts, his faults, his
+projects, his family, his friends, his most sacred ties. Conceive,
+what a superior facility of action this immense police-register, which
+includes the whole world, must give to any one society! It is not
+lightly that I speak of these registers; I have my facts from a person
+who has seen this collection, and who is perfectly well acquainted with
+the Jesuits. Here then, is matter to reflect on for all those families,
+who admit freely into their houses the members of a community that
+carries its biographical researches to such a point. (Libri, Member of
+the Institute. Letters on the Clergy.)
+
+When he had conquered the involuntary emotion which the name or
+remembrance of General Simon had occasioned, Rodin's master said to the
+secretary: "Do not yet open the letters from Leipsic, Charlestown, and
+Batavia; the information they contain will doubtless find its place
+presently. It will save our going over the same ground twice."
+
+The secretary looked inquiringly at his master.
+
+The latter continued--"Have you finished the note relating to the
+medals?"
+
+"Here it is," replied the secretary; "I was just finishing my
+interpretation of the cipher."
+
+"Read it to me, in the order of the facts. You can append to it the news
+contained in those three letters."
+
+"True," said Rodin; "in that way the letters will find their right
+place."
+
+"I wish to see," rejoined the other, "whether this note is clear and
+fully explanatory; you did not forget that the person it is intended for
+ought not to know all?"
+
+"I bore it in mind, and drew up the paper accordingly."
+
+"Read," said the master.
+
+M. Rodin read as follows, slowly and deliberately:
+
+"'A hundred and fifty years ago, a French Protestant family, foreseeing
+the speedy--revocation of the edict of Nantes, went into voluntary
+exile, in order to avoid the just and rigorous decrees already issued
+against the members of the reformed church--those indomitable foes of
+our holy religion.
+
+"'Some members of this family sought refuge in Holland, and afterwards
+in the Dutch colonies; others in Poland, others in Germany; some in
+England, and some in America.
+
+"'It is supposed that only seven descendants remain of this family,
+which underwent strange vicissitudes since; its present representatives
+are found in all ranks of society, from the sovereign to the mechanic.
+
+"'These descendants, direct or indirect, are:
+
+"'On the mother's side,
+
+"'Rose and Blanche Simon--minors.
+
+"'General Simon married, at Warsaw, a descendant of the said family.
+
+"'Francois Hardy, manufacturer at Plessis, near Paris.
+
+"'Prince Djalma, son of Kadja-sing, King of Mondi.
+
+"'Kadja-sing, married, in 1802, a descendant of the said family, then
+settled at Batavia, in the Island of Java, a Dutch colony.
+
+"'On the father's side--Jacques Rennepont, surnamed Sleepinbuff,
+mechanic.
+
+"'Adrienne de Cardoville, daughter of the Count of Rennepont, Duke of
+Cardoville.
+
+"'Gabriel Rennepont, priest of the foreign missions.
+
+"'All the members of this family possess, or should possess, a bronze
+medal bearing the following inscriptions:
+
+                Victim
+                  of
+               L. C. D. J.
+               Pray for me!
+                 Paris
+            February the 13th, 1682.
+
+                At Paris,
+            Rue Saint Francois, No. 3,
+            In a century and a half
+               you will be.
+            February the 13th, 1832.
+               Pray For Me!
+
+"'These words and dates show that all of them have a great interest to
+be at Paris on the 13th of February, 1832; and that, not by proxy, but
+in person, whether they are minors, married or single.
+
+"'But other persons have an immense interest that none of the
+descendants of this family be at Paris on the 13th February, except
+Gabriel Rennepont, priest of the foreign missions.
+
+"'At all hazards, therefore, Gabriel must be the only person present at
+the appointment made with the descendants of this family, a century and
+a half ago.
+
+"'To prevent the other six persons from reaching Paris on the said day,
+or to render their presence of no effect, much has been already done;
+but much remains to be done to ensure the success of this affair,
+which is considered as the most vital and most important of the age, on
+account of its probable results.'"
+
+"'Tis but too true," observed Rodin's master, interrupting him, and
+shaking his head pensively. "And, moreover, that the consequences of
+success are incalculable, and there is no forseeing what may follow
+failure. In a word, it almost involves a question of existence or non
+existence during several years. To succeed, therefore, 'all possible
+means must be employed. Nothing must be shunned,' except, however, that
+appearances must be skillfully maintained."
+
+"I have written it," said Rodin, having added the words his master had
+just dictated, who then said,
+
+"Continue."
+
+Rodin read on:
+
+"'To forward or secure the affair in question, it is necessary to give
+some private and secret particulars respecting the seven persons who
+represent this family.
+
+"'The truth of these particulars may be relied on. In case of need
+they might be completed in the most minute degree for contradictory
+information having been given, very lengthened evidence has been
+obtained. The order in which the names of the persons stand will be
+observed, and events that have happened up to the present time will only
+be mentioned.
+
+"'NOTE, No. I. "'Rose and Blanche Simon, twin sisters, about fifteen
+years of age; very pretty, so much alike, one might be taken for the
+other; mild and timid disposition, but capable of enthusiasm. Brought
+up in Siberia by their mother, a woman of strong mind and deistical
+sentiments, they are wholly ignorant of our holy religion.
+
+"'General Simon, separated from his wife before they were born, is not
+aware, even now, that he has two daughters.
+
+"'It was hoped that their presence in Paris, on the 13th of February,
+would be prevented, by sending their mother to a place of exile, much
+more distant than the one first allotted her; but their mother dying,
+the Governor of Siberia, who is wholly ours, supposing, by a deplorable
+mistake, that the measure only affected the wife of General Simon
+personally, unfortunately allowed the girls to return to France, under
+the guidance of an old soldier.
+
+"'This man is enterprising, faithful, and determined. He is noted down
+as dangerous.
+
+"'The Simon girls are inoffensive. It is hoped, on fair grounds, that
+they are now detained in the neighborhood of Leipsic.'"
+
+Rodin's master interrupted him, saying:
+
+"Now, read the letter just received from Leipsic; it may complete the
+information."
+
+Rodin read it, and exclaimed:
+
+"Excellent news! The maidens and their guide had succeeded in escaping
+during the night from the White Falcon Tavern, but all three were
+overtaken and seized about a league from Mockern. They have been
+transferred to Leipsic, where they are imprisoned as vagabonds;
+their guide, the soldier, is accused and condemned of resisting the
+authorities, and using violence to a magistrate."
+
+"It is almost certain, then, considering the tedious mode of proceeding
+in Germany (otherwise we would see to it), that the girls will not be
+able to be here on the 13th February," added Rodin's master. "Append
+this to the note on the back."
+
+The secretary obeyed, and endorsed "An abstract of Morok's letter."
+
+"It is written," he then added.
+
+"Go on," resumed his master.
+
+Rodin continued reading.
+
+"'NOTE, No. II. "'Francois Hardy, manufacturer at Plessis, near
+Paris, forty years old; a steady, rich, intelligent, active, honest,
+well-informed man, idolized by his workmen--thanks to numberless
+innovations to promote their welfare. Never attending to the duties of
+our holy religion. Noted down as a very dangerous man: but the hatred
+and envy he excites among other manufacturers, especially in M. le Baron
+Tripeaud, his competitor, may easily be turned against him. If other
+means of action on his account, and against him, are necessary, the
+evidence may be consulted; it is very voluminous. This man has been
+marked and watched for a long time.
+
+"'He has been so effectually misguided with respect to the medal, that
+he is completely deceived as to the interests it represents. He
+is, however, constantly watched, surrounded, and governed, without
+suspecting it; one of his dearest friends deceives him, and through his
+means we know his secret thoughts.
+
+"'NOTE, No. III. "'Prince Djalma; eighteen; energetic and generous,
+haughty, independent and wild; favorite of General Simon, who commanded
+the troops of his father, Kadja-sing, in the struggle maintained by the
+latter against the English in India. Djalma is mentioned only by way of
+reminder, for his mother died young, while her parents were living. They
+resided at Batavia. On the death of the latter, neither Djalma nor
+the king, his father, claimed their little property. It is, therefore,
+certain that they are ignorant of the grave interests connected with the
+possession of the medal in question, which formed part of the property
+of Djalma's mother."'"
+
+Rodin's master interrupted him.
+
+"Now read the letter from Batavia, and complete the information
+respecting Djalma."
+
+Rodin read, and then observed:
+
+"Good news again. Joshua Van Dael, merchant at Batavia (he was educated
+in our Pondicherry establishment), learns from his correspondent at
+Calcutta that the old Indian king was killed in the last battle with
+the English. His son, Djalma, deprived of the paternal throne, is
+provisionally detained as a prisoner of state in an Indian fortress."
+
+"We are at the end of October," said Rodin's master. "If Prince Djalma
+were to leave India now, he could scarcely reach Paris by the month of
+February."
+
+"Van Dael," continued Rodin, "regrets that he has not been able to prove
+his zeal in this case. Supposing Prince Djalma set at liberty, or having
+effected his escape, it is certain he would come to Batavia to claim his
+inheritance from his mother, since he has nothing else left him in the
+world. In that case, you may rely on Van Dael's devotedness. In return,
+he solicits very precise information, by the next post, respecting the
+fortune of M. le Baron Tripeaud, banker and manufacturer, with whom he
+has business transactions."
+
+"Answer that point evasively. Van Dael as yet has only shown zeal;
+complete the information respecting Djalma from these new tidings."
+
+Rodin wrote.
+
+But in a few minutes his master said to him with a singular expression:
+
+"Does not Van Dael mention General Simon in connection with Djalma's
+imprisonment and his father's death?"
+
+"He does not allude to him," said the secretary, continuing his task.
+
+Rodin's master was silent, and paced the room.
+
+In a few moments Rodin said to him: "I have done it."
+
+"Go on, then."
+
+"'NOTE, No. IV. "'Jacques Rennepont, surnamed "Sleepinbuff," i.e. Lie
+naked, workman in Baron Tripeaud's factory. This artisan is drunken,
+idle, noisy, and prodigal; he is not without sense, but idleness and
+debauch have ruined him. A clever agent, on whom we rely, has become
+acquainted with his mistress, Cephyse Soliveau, nicknamed the Bacchanal
+Queen. Through her means, the agent has formed such ties with him that
+he may even now be considered beyond the reach of the interests that
+ought to insure his presence in Paris on the 13th of February.
+
+"'NOTE, No. V. "'Gabriel Rennepont, priest of foreign missions, distant
+relation of the above, but he is alike ignorant of the existence of his
+relative and the relationship. An orphan foundling, he was adopted by
+Frances Baudoin, the wife of a soldier going by the name Dagobert.
+
+"'Should this soldier, contrary to expectation, reach Paris, his wife
+would be a powerful means of influencing him. She is an excellent
+creature, ignorant and credulous, of exemplary piety, over whom we have
+long had unlimited control. She prevailed on Gabriel to take orders,
+notwithstanding his repugnance.
+
+"'Gabriel is five-and-twenty; disposition as angelic as his countenance;
+rare and solid virtues; unfortunately he was brought up with his
+adopted brother, Agricola, Dagobert's son. This Agricola is a poet
+and workman--but an excellent workman; he is employed by M. Hardy;
+has imbibed the most detestable doctrines; fond of his mother; honest,
+laborious, but without religious feeling. Marked as very dangerous. This
+causes his intimacy with Gabriel to be feared.
+
+"'The latter, notwithstanding his excellent qualities, sometimes causes
+uneasiness. We have even delayed confiding in him fully. A false step
+might make him, too, one of the most dangerous. Much precaution must be
+used then, especially till the 13th of February; since, we repeat it,
+on him, on his presence in Paris at that time, depend immense hopes and
+equally important interests.
+
+"'Among other precautions, we have consented to his taking part in the
+American mission, for he unites with angelic sweetness of character a
+calm intrepidity and adventurous spirit which could only be satisfied
+by allowing him to engage in the perilous existence of the missionaries.
+Luckily, his superiors at Charlestown have received the strictest orders
+not to endanger, on any account, so precious a life. They are to send
+him to Paris, at least a month or two before February 13th."'
+
+Rodin's master again interrupted him, and said: "Read the letter
+from Charlestown, and see what it tells you in order to complete the
+information upon this point also."
+
+When he had read the letter, Rodin went on: "Gabriel is expected every
+day from the Rocky Mountains, whither he had absolutely insisted on
+going alone upon a mission."
+
+"What imprudence!"
+
+"He has no doubt escaped all danger, as he himself announces his speedy
+return to Charlestown. As soon as he arrives, which cannot (they write)
+be later than the middle of this month, he will be shipped off for
+France."
+
+"Add this to the note which concerns him," said Rodin's master.
+
+"It is written," replied the secretary, a few moments later.
+
+"Proceed, then," said his master. Rodin continued
+
+"'NOTE, No. VI. "'ADRIENNE RENNEPONT DE CARDOVILLE.
+
+"'Distantly related (without knowing it) to Jacques Rennepont, alias
+Sleepinbuff, and Gabriel Rennepont, missionary priest. She will soon
+be twenty-one years of age, the most attractive person in the
+world--extraordinary beauty, though red-haired--a mind remarkable
+for its originality--immense fortune--all the animal instincts. The
+incredible independence of her character makes one tremble for the
+future fate of this young person. Happily, her appointed guardian, Baron
+Tripeaud (a baron of 1829 creation, formerly agent to the late Count of
+Rennepont, Duke of Cardoville), is quite in the interest, and almost in
+the dependence, of the young lady's aunt. We count, with reason, upon
+this worthy and respectable relative, and on the Baron Tripeaud, to
+oppose and repress the singular, unheard-of designs which this young
+person, as resolute as independent, does not fear to avow--and which,
+unfortunately, cannot be turned to account in the interest of the affair
+in question--for--"
+
+Rodin was here interrupted by two discreet taps at the door. The
+secretary rose, went to see who knocked, remained a moment without, and
+then returned with two letters in his hand, saying: "The princess has
+profited by the departure of a courier to--"
+
+"Give me the letter!" cried his master, without leaving him time to
+finish. "At length," he added, "I shall have news of my mother--"
+
+He had scarcely read the first few lines of the letter, when he grew
+deadly pale, and his features took an expression of painful astonishment
+and poignant grief. "My mother!" he cried, "oh, heavens! my mother!"
+
+"What misfortune has happened!" asked Rodin, with a look of alarm, as he
+rose at the exclamation of his master.
+
+"The symptoms of improvement were fallacious," replied the other,
+dejectedly; "she has now relapsed into a nearly hopeless state. And
+yet the doctor thinks my presence might save her, for she calls for me
+without ceasing. She wishes to see me for the last time, that she
+may die in peace. Oh, that wish is sacred! Not to grant it would be
+matricide. If I can but arrive in time! Travelling day and night, it
+will take nearly two days."
+
+"Alas! what a misfortune!" said Rodin, wringing his hands, and raising
+his eyes to heaven.
+
+His master rang the bell violently, and said to the old servant that
+opened the door: "Just put what is indispensable into the portmanteau
+of my travelling-carriage. Let the porter take a cab, and go for
+post horses instantly. Within an hour, I must be on the road. Mother!
+mother!" cried he, as the servant departed in haste. "Not to see her
+again--oh, it would be frightful!" And sinking upon a chair, overwhelmed
+with sorrow, he covered his face with his hands.
+
+This great grief was sincere--he loved tenderly his mother that divine
+sentiment had accompanied him, unalterable and pure, through all the
+phases of a too often guilty life.
+
+After a few minutes, Rodin ventured to say to his master, as he showed
+him the second letter: "This, also, has just been brought from M.
+Duplessis. It is very important--very pressing--"
+
+"See what it is, and answer it. I have no head for business."
+
+"The letter is confidential," said Rodin, presenting it to his master.
+"I dare not open it, as you may see by the mark on the cover."
+
+At sight of this mark, the countenance of Rodin's master assumed an
+indefinable expression of respect and fear. With a trembling hand he
+broke the seal. The note contained only the following words: "Leave all
+business, and without losing a minute, set out and come. M. Duplessis
+will replace you. He has orders."
+
+"Great God!" cried this man in despair. "Set out before I have seen my
+mother! It is frightful, impossible--it would perhaps kill her--yes, it
+would be matricide!"
+
+Whilst he uttered these words, his eyes rested on the huge globe, marked
+with red crosses. A sudden revolution seemed to take place within him;
+he appeared to repent of the violence of his regrets; his face, though
+still sad, became once more calm and grave. He handed the fatal letter
+to his secretary, and said to him, whilst he stifled a sigh: "To be
+classed under its proper number."
+
+Rodin took the letter, wrote a number upon it, and placed it in a
+particular box. After a moment's silence, his master resumed: "You will
+take orders from M. Duplessis, and work with him. You will deliver to
+him the note on the affair of the medals; he knows to whom to address
+it. You will write to Batavia, Leipsic, and Charlestown, in the sense
+agreed. Prevent, at any price, the daughters of General Simon from
+quitting Leipsic; hasten the arrival of Gabriel in Paris; and should
+Prince Djalma come to Batavia, tell M. Joshua Van Dael, that we count on
+his zeal and obedience to keep him there."
+
+And this man, who, while his dying mother called to him in vain, could
+thus preserve his presence of mind, entered his own apartments; whilst
+Rodin busied himself with the answers he had been ordered to write, and
+transcribed them in cipher.
+
+In about three quarters of an hour, the bells of the post-horses were
+heard jingling without. The old servant again entered, after discreetly
+knocking at the door, and said:
+
+"The carriage is ready."
+
+Rodin nodded, and the servant withdrew. The secretary, in his turn, went
+to knock at the door of the inner room. His master appeared, still grave
+and cold, but fearfully pale, and holding a letter in his hand.
+
+"This for my mother," said he to Rodin; "you will send a courier on the
+instant."
+
+"On the instant," replied the secretary.
+
+"Let the three letters for Leipsic, Batavia and Charlestown, leave
+to-day by the ordinary channel. They are of the last importance. You
+know it."
+
+Those were his last words. Executing merciless orders with a merciless
+obedience, he departed without even attempting to see his mother. His
+secretary accompanied him respectfully to his carriage.
+
+"What road, sir?" asked the postilion, turning round on his saddle.
+
+"The road to ITALY!" answered Rodin's master, with so deep a sigh that
+it almost resembled a sob.
+
+As the horses started at full gallop, Rodin made a low bow; then he
+returned to the large, cold, bare apartment. The attitude, countenance,
+and gait of this personage seemed to have undergone a sudden change. He
+appeared to have increased in dimensions. He was no longer an automaton,
+moved by the mechanism of humble obedience. His features, till now
+impassible, his glance, hitherto subdued, became suddenly animated with
+an expression of diabolical craft; a sardonic smile curled his thin,
+pale lips, and a look of grim satisfaction relaxed his cadaverous face.
+
+In turn, he stopped before the huge globe. In turn, he contemplated
+it in silence, even as his master had done. Then, bending over it, and
+embracing it, as it were, in his arms, he gloated with his reptile-eye
+on it for some moments, drew his coarse finger along its polished
+surface, and tapped his flat, dirty nail on three of the places dotted
+with red crosses. And, whilst he thus pointed to three towns, in very
+different parts of the world, he named them aloud, with a sneer.
+
+"Leipsic--Charlestown--Batavia."
+
+"In each of these three places," he added, "distant as they are from one
+another, there exist persons who little think that here, in this
+obscure street, from the recesses of this chamber, wakeful eyes are
+upon them--that all their movements are followed, all their actions
+known--and that hence will issue new instructions, which deeply concern
+them, and which will be inexorably executed; for an interest is at
+stake, which may have a powerful influence on Europe--on the world.
+Luckily, we have friends at Leipsic, Charlestown, and Batavia."
+
+This funny, old, sordid, ill-dressed man, with his livid and death-like
+countenance, thus crawling over the sphere before him, appeared still
+more awful than his master, when the latter, erect and haughty, had
+imperiously laid his hand upon that globe, which he seemed desirous of
+subjecting by the strength of his pride and courage. The one resembled
+the eagle, that hovers above his prey--the other the reptile, that
+envelops its victim in its inextricable folds.
+
+After some minutes, Rodin approached his desk, rubbing his hands briskly
+together, and wrote the following epistle in a cipher unknown even to
+his master:
+
+"Paris, 3/4 past 9 A.M.
+
+"He is gone--but he hesitated!
+
+"When he received the order, his dying mother had just summoned him
+to her. He might, they told him, save her by his presence; and he
+exclaimed: 'Not to go to my mother would be matricide!'
+
+"Still, he is gone--but he hesitated. I keep my eye upon him
+continually. These lines will reach Rome at the same time as himself.
+
+"P.S.--Tell the Cardinal-Prince that he may rely on me, but I hope for
+his active aid in return."
+
+When he had folded and sealed this letter, Rodin put it into his pocket.
+The clock struck ten, M. Rodin's hour for breakfast. He arranged and
+locked up his papers in a drawer, of which he carried away the key,
+brushed his old greasy hat with his sleeve, took a patched umbrella in
+his hand, and went out. (1)
+
+Whilst these two men, in the depths of their obscure retreat, were thus
+framing a plot, which was to involve the seven descendants of a race
+formerly proscribed--a strange mysterious defender was planning how to
+protect this family, which was also his own.
+
+1 Having cited the excellent, courageous letters of M. Libri, and the
+curious work edited by M. Paulin, it is our duty likewise to mention
+many bold and conscientious writings on the subject of the "Society of
+Jesus," recently published by the elder Dupin, Michelet, Quinet, Genin,
+and the Count de Saint Priest--works of high and impartial intellects,
+in which the fatal theories of the order are admirably exposed and
+condemned. We esteem ourselves happy, if we can bring one stone towards
+the erection of the strong, and, we hope, durable embankment which these
+generous hearts and noble minds are raising against the encroachments of
+an impure and always menacing flood.--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II. INTERVAL.--THE WANDERING JEW'S SENTENCE.
+
+     XVII. The Ajoupa XVIII. The Tattooing XIX. The Smuggler XX.
+     M. Joshua Van Dael XXI. The Ruins of Tchandi XXII. The
+     Ambuscade XXIII. M. Rodin XXIV. The Tempest XXV. The
+     Shipwreck XXVI. The Departure for Paris XXVII. Dagobert's
+     Wife XXVIII. The Sister of the Bacchanal Queen XXIX.
+     Agricola Baudoin XXX. The Return XXXI. Agricola and Mother
+     Bunch XXXII. The Awakening XXXIII. The Pavilion XXXIV.
+     Adrienne at her Toilet XXXV. The Interview
+
+
+
+
+INTERVAL.
+
+THE WANDERING JEW'S SENTENCE.
+
+The site is wild and rugged. It is a lofty eminence covered with huge
+boulders of sandstone, between which rise birch trees and oaks, their
+foliage already yellowed by autumn. These tall trees stand out from the
+background of red light, which the sun has left in the west, resembling
+the reflection of a great fire.
+
+From this eminence the eye looks down into a deep valley, shady,
+fertile, and half-veiled in light vapor by the evening mist. The rich
+meadows, the tufts of bushy trees the fields from which the ripe corn
+has been gathered in, all blend together in one dark, uniform tint,
+which contrasts with the limpid azure of the heavens. Steeples of gray
+stone or slate lift their pointed spires, at intervals, from the midst
+of this valley; for many villages are spread about it, bordering a
+high-road which leads from the north to the west.
+
+It is the hour of repose--the hour when, for the most part, every
+cottage window brightens to the joyous crackling of the rustic hearth,
+and shines afar through shade and foliage, whilst clouds of smoke issue
+from the chimneys, and curl up slowly towards the sky. But now, strange
+to say, every hearth in the country seems cold and deserted. Stranger
+and more fatal still, every steeple rings out a funeral knell. Whatever
+there is of activity, movement, or life, appears concentrated in that
+lugubrious and far-sounding vibration.
+
+Lights begin to show themselves in the dark villages, but they rise not
+from the cheerful and pleasant rustic hearth. They are as red as the
+fires of the herdsmen, seen at night through the midst of the fog. And
+then these lights do not remain motionless. They creep slowly towards
+the churchyard of every village. Louder sounds the death-knell, the air
+trembles beneath the strokes of so many bells, and, at rare intervals,
+the funeral chant rises faintly to the summit of the hill.
+
+Why so many interments? What valley of desolation is this, where the
+peaceful songs which follow the hard labors of the day are replaced by
+the death dirge? where the repose of evening is exchanged for the repose
+of eternity? What is this valley of the shadow, where every village
+mourns for its many dead, and buries them at the same hour of the same
+night?
+
+Alas! the deaths are so sudden and numerous and frightful that there is
+hardly time to bury the dead. During day the survivors are chained to
+the earth by hard but necessary toil; and only in the evening, when they
+return from the fields, are they able, though sinking with fatigue, to
+dig those other furrows, in which their brethren are to lie heaped like
+grains of corn.
+
+And this valley is not the only one that has seen the desolation. During
+a series of fatal years, many villages, many towns, many cities, many
+great countries, have seen, like this valley, their hearths deserted and
+cold--have seen, like this valley, mourning take the place of joy, and
+the death-knell substituted for the noise of festival--have wept in
+the same day for their many dead, and buried them at night by the lurid
+glare of torches.
+
+For, during those fatal years, an awful wayfarer had slowly journeyed
+over the earth, from one pole to the other--from the depths of India and
+Asia to the ice of Siberia--from the ice of Siberia to the borders of
+the seas of France.
+
+This traveller, mysterious as death, slow as eternity, implacable as
+fate, terrible as the hand of heaven, was the CHOLERA!
+
+The tolling of bells and the funeral chants still rose from the depths
+of the valley to the summit of the hill, like the complaining of a
+mighty voice; the glare of the funeral torches was still seen afar
+through the mist of evening; it was the hour of twilight--that strange
+hour, which gives to the most solid forms a vague, indefinite fantastic
+appearance--when the sound of firm and regular footsteps was heard on
+the stony soil of the rising ground, and, between the black trunks of
+the trees, a man passed slowly onward.
+
+His figure was tall, his head was bowed upon his breast; his countenance
+was noble, gentle, and sad; his eyebrows, uniting in the midst, extended
+from one temple to the other, like a fatal mark on his forehead.
+
+This man did not seem to hear the distant tolling of so many funeral
+bells--and yet, a few days before, repose and happiness, health and joy,
+had reigned in those villages through which he had slowly passed, and
+which he now left behind him, mourning and desolate. But the traveller
+continued on his way, absorbed in his own reflections.
+
+"The 13th of February approaches," thought he; "the day approaches, in
+which the descendants of my beloved sister, the last scions of our race,
+should meet in Paris. Alas! it is now a hundred and fifty years since,
+for the third time, persecution scattered this family over all the
+earth--this family, that I have watched over with tenderness for
+eighteen centuries, through all its migrations and exiles, its changes
+of religion, fortune, and name!
+
+"Oh! for this family, descended from the sister of the poor
+shoemaker,(2) what grandeur and what abasement, what obscurity and what
+splendor, what misery and what glory! By how many crimes has it been
+sullied, by how many virtues honored! The history of this single family
+is the history of the human race!
+
+"Passing, in the course of so many generations, through the veins of the
+poor and the rich, of the sovereign and the bandit, of the wise man and
+the fool, of the coward and the brave, of the saint and the atheist, the
+blood of my sister has transmitted itself to this hour.
+
+"What scions of this family are now remaining? Seven only.
+
+"Two orphans, the daughters of proscribed parents--a dethroned prince--a
+poor missionary priest--a man of the middle class--a young girl of a
+great name and large fortune--a mechanic.
+
+"Together, they comprise in themselves the virtues, the courage, the
+degradation, the splendor, the miseries of our species!
+
+"Siberia--India--America--France--behold the divers places where fate
+has thrown them!
+
+"My instinct teaches me when one of them is in peril. Then, from the
+North to the South, from the East to the West, I go to seek them.
+Yesterday amid the polar frosts--to-day in the temperate zone--to-morrow
+beneath the fires of the tropics--but often, alas! at the moment when
+my presence might save them, the invisible hand impels me, the whirlwind
+carries me away, and the voice speaks in my ear: 'GO ON! GO ON!'
+
+"Oh, that I might only finish my task!--'GO ON!'--A single hour--only
+a single hour of repose!--'GO ON!'--Alas! I leave those I love on the
+brink of the abyss!--'GO ON! GO ON!'
+
+"Such is my punishment. If it is great, my crime was greater still! An
+artisan, devoted to privations and misery, my misfortunes had made me
+cruel.
+
+"Oh, cursed, cursed be the day, when, as I bent over my work, sullen
+with hate and despair, because, in spite of my incessant labor, I and
+mine wanted for everything, the Saviour passed before my door.
+
+"Reviled, insulted, covered with blows, hardly able to sustain the
+weight of his heavy cross, He asked me to let Him rest a moment on my
+stone bench. The sweat poured from His forehead, His feet were bleeding,
+He was well-nigh sinking with fatigue, and He said to me, in a mild,
+heart piercing voice: 'I suffer!' 'And I too suffer,' I replied, as with
+harsh anger I pushed Him from the place; 'I suffer, and no one comes to
+help me! I find no pity, and will give none. Go on! go on!' Then, with
+a deep sigh of pain, He answered, and spake this sentence: 'Verily,
+thou shalt go on till the day of thy redemption, for so wills the Father
+which art in heaven!'
+
+"And so my punishment began. Too late I opened these eyes to the light,
+too late I learned repentance and charity, too late I understood those
+divine words of Him I had outraged, words which should be the law of the
+whole human race. 'LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER.'
+
+"In vain through successive ages, gathering strength and eloquence from
+those celestial words, have I labored to earn my pardon, by filling
+with commiseration and love hearts that were overflowing with envy and
+bitterness, by inspiring many a soul with a sacred horror of oppression
+and injustice. For me the day of mercy has not yet dawned!
+
+"And even as the first man, by his fall, devoted his posterity to
+misfortune, it would seem as if I, the workman, had consigned the whole
+race of artisans to endless sorrows, and as if they were expiating my
+crime: for they alone, during these eighteen centuries, have not yet
+been delivered.
+
+"For eighteen centuries, the powerful and the happy of this world have
+said to the toiling people what I said to the imploring and suffering
+Saviour: 'Go on! go on!' And the people, sinking with fatigue, bearing
+their heavy cross, have answered in the bitterness of their grief:
+'Oh, for pity's sake! a few moments of repose; we are worn out with
+toil.'--Go on!'--'And if we perish in our pain, what will become of
+our little children and our aged mothers?'--'Go on! go on!' And, for
+eighteen centuries, they and I have continued to struggle forward and to
+suffer, and no charitable voice has yet pronounced the word 'Enough!'
+
+"Alas! such is my punishment. It is immense, it is two-fold. I suffer
+in the name of humanity, when I see these wretched multitudes consigned
+without respite to profitless and oppressive toil. I suffer in the name
+of my family, when, poor and wandering, I am unable to bring aid to
+the descendants of my dear sister. But, when the sorrow is above my
+strength, when I foresee some danger from which I cannot preserve my
+own, then my thoughts, travelling over the world, go in search of that
+woman like me accursed, that daughter of a queen, who, like me, the
+son of a laborer, wanders, and will wander on, till the day of her
+redemption.(3)
+
+"Once in a century, as two planets draw nigh to each other in their
+revolutions, I am permitted to meet this woman during the dread week of
+the Passion. And after this interview, filled with terrible remembrances
+and boundless griefs, wandering stars of eternity, we pursue our
+infinite course.
+
+"And this woman, the only one upon earth who, like me, sees the end of
+every century, and exclaims: 'What another?' this woman responds to my
+thought, from the furthest extremity of the world. She, who alone shares
+my terrible destiny, has chosen to share also the only interest that has
+consoled me for so many ages. Those descendants of my dear sister, she
+too loves, she too protects them. For them she journeys likewise from
+East to West and from North to South.
+
+"But alas! the invisible hand impels her, the whirlwind carries her
+away, and the voice speaks in her ear: 'Go on!'--'Oh that I might finish
+my sentence!' repeats she also,--'Go on!'--'A single hour--only a single
+hour of repose!'--Go on!'--'I leave those I love on the brink of the
+abyss.'--'Go on! Go on!--'"
+
+Whilst this man thus went over the hill absorbed in his thoughts, the
+light evening breeze increased almost to a gale, a vivid flash streamed
+across the sky, and long, deep whistlings announced the coming of a
+tempest.
+
+On a sudden this doomed man, who could no longer weep or smile, started
+with a shudder. No physical pain could reach him, and yet he pressed his
+hand hastily to his heart, as though he had experienced a cruel pang.
+"Oh!" cried he; "I feel it. This hour, many of those whom I love--the
+descendants of my dear sister--suffer, and are in great peril. Some in
+the centre of India--some in America--some here in Germany. The struggle
+recommences, the detestable passions are again awake. Oh, thou that
+hearest me--thou, like myself wandering and accursed--Herodias! help
+me to protect them! May my invocation reach thee, in those American
+solitudes where thou now lingerest--and may we arrive in time!"
+
+Thereon an extraordinary event happened. Night was come. The man made
+a movement; precipitately, to retrace his steps--but an invisible force
+prevented him, and carried him forward in the opposite direction.
+
+At this moment, the storm burst forth in its murky majesty. One of those
+whirlwinds, which tear up trees by the roots and shake the foundations
+of the rocks, rushed over the hill rapid and loud as thunder.
+
+In the midst of the roaring of the hurricane, by the glare of the fiery
+flashes, the man with the black mark on his brow was seen descending the
+hill, stalking with huge strides among the rocks, and between trees bent
+beneath the efforts of the storm.
+
+The tread of this man was no longer slow, firm, and steady--but
+painfully irregular, like that of one impelled by an irresistible power,
+or carried along by the whirl of a frightful wind. In vain he extended
+his supplicating hands to heaven. Soon he disappeared in the shades of
+night, and amid the roar of the tempest.
+
+(2) It is known that, according to the legend, the Wandering Jew was a
+shoemaker at Jerusalem. The Saviour, carrying his cross, passed before
+the house of the artisan, and asked him to be allowed to rest an instant
+on the stone bench at his door. "Go on! go on!" said the Jew harshly,
+pushing him away. "Thou shalt go on till the end of time," answered the
+Saviour, in a stern though sorrowful tone. For further details, see
+the eloquent and learned notice by Charles Magnin, appended to the
+magnificent poem "Ahasuerus," by Ed. Quinet.--E. S.
+
+(3) According to a legend very little known, for we are indebted to
+the kindness of M. Maury, the learned sub-librarian of the Institute,
+Herodias was condemned to wander till the day of judgement, for having
+asked for the death of John the Baptist--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. THE AJOUPA.
+
+While Rodin despatched his cosmopolite correspondence, from his retreat
+in the Rue du Milieu des Ursins, in Paris--while the daughters of
+General Simon, after quitting as fugitives the White Falcon, were
+detained prisoners at Leipsic along with Dagobert--other scenes, deeply
+interesting to these different personages, were passing, almost as it
+were at the same moment, at the other extremity of the world, in the
+furthermost parts of Asia--that is to say, in the island of Java, not
+far from the city of Batavia, the residence of M. Joshua Van Dael, one
+of the correspondents of Rodin.
+
+Java! magnificent and fatal country, where the most admirable flowers
+conceal hideous reptiles, where the brightest fruits contain subtle
+poisons, where grow splendid trees, whose very shadow is death--where
+the gigantic vampire bat sucks the blood of its victims whilst it
+prolongs their sleep, by surrounding them with a fresh and balmy air, no
+fan moving so rapidly as the great perfumed wings of this monster!
+
+The month of October, 1831, draws near its close. It is noon--an hour
+well nigh mortal to him who encounters the fiery heat of the sun, which
+spreads a sheet of dazzling light over the deep blue enamel of the sky.
+
+An ajoupa, or hut, made of cane mats, suspended from long bamboos, which
+are driven far into the ground, rises in the midst of the bluish shadows
+cast by a tuft of trees, whose glittering verdure resembles green
+porcelain. These quaintly formed trees, rounded into arches, pointing
+like spires, overspreading like parasols, are so thick in foliage, so
+entangled one with the other, that their dome is impenetrable to the
+rain.
+
+The soil, ever marshy, notwithstanding the insupportable heat,
+disappears beneath an inextricable mass of creepers, ferns, and tufted
+reeds, of a freshness and vigor of vegetation almost incredible,
+reaching nearly to the top of the ajoupa, which lies hid like a nest
+among the grass.
+
+Nothing can be more suffocating than the atmosphere, heavily laden with
+moist exhalations like the steam of hot water, and impregnated with
+the strongest and sharpest scents; for the cinnamon-tree, ginger-plant,
+stephanotis and Cape jasmine, mixed with these trees and creepers,
+spread around in puffs their penetrating odors. A roof, formed of large
+Indian fig-leaves, covers the cabin; at one end is a square opening,
+which serves for a window, shut in with a fine lattice-work of vegetable
+fibres, so as to prevent the reptiles and venomous insects from creeping
+into the ajoupa. The huge trunk of a dead tree, still standing, but much
+bent, and with its summit reaching to the roof of the ajoupa, rises from
+the midst of the brushwood. From every crevice in its black, rugged,
+mossy bark, springs a strange, almost fantastic flower; the wing of a
+butterfly is not of a finer tissue, of a more brilliant purple, of a
+more glossy black: those unknown birds we see in our dreams, have no
+more grotesque forms than these specimens of the orchis--winged flowers,
+that seem always ready to fly from their frail and leafless stalks. The
+long, flexible stems of the cactus, which might be taken for reptiles,
+encircle also this trunk, and clothe it with their bunches of silvery
+white, shaded inside with bright orange. These flowers emit a strong
+scent of vanilla.
+
+A serpent, of a brick-red, about the thickness of a large quill, and
+five or six inches long, half protrudes its flat head from one of those
+enormous, perfumed calyces, in which it lies closely curled up.
+
+Within the ajoupa, a young man is extended on a mat in a profound sleep.
+His complexion of a clear golden yellow, gives him the appearance of a
+statue of pale bronze, on which a ray of sun is playing. His attitude
+is simple and graceful; his right arm sustains his head, a little raised
+and turned on one side; his ample robe of white muslin, with hanging
+sleeves, leaves uncovered his chest and arms worthy of the Antoinous.
+Marble is not more firm, more polished than his skin, the golden hue of
+which contracts strongly with the whiteness of his garments. Upon his
+broad manly chest a deep scar is visible--the mark of the musket-ball he
+received in defending the life of General Simon, the father of Rose and
+Blanche.
+
+Suspended from his neck, he wears a medal similar to that in the
+possession of the two sisters. This Indian is Djalma.
+
+His features are at once very noble and very beautiful. His hair of a
+blue black, parted upon his forehead, falls waving, but not curled over
+his shoulders; whilst his eyebrows, boldly and yet delicately defined,
+are of as deep a jet as the long eyelashes, that cast their shadow upon
+his beardless cheek. His bright, red lips are slightly apart, and he
+breathes uneasily; his sleep is heavy and troubled, for the heat becomes
+every moment more and more suffocating.
+
+Without, the silence is profound. Not a breath of air is stirring.
+Yet now the tall ferns, which cover the soil, begin to move almost
+imperceptibly, as though their stems were shaken by the slow progress
+of some crawling body. From time to time, this trifling oscillation
+suddenly ceases, and all is again motionless. But, after several of
+these alternations of rustling and deep silence, a human head appears
+in the midst of the jungle, a little distance from the trunk of the dead
+tree.
+
+The man to whom it belonged was possessed of a grim countenance, with a
+complexion the color of greenish bronze, long black hair bound about his
+temples, eyes brilliant with savage fire, and an expression remarkable
+for its intelligence and ferocity. Holding his breath, he remained quite
+still for a moment; then, advancing upon his hands and knees, pushing
+aside the leaves so gently, that not the slightest noise could be heard,
+he arrived cautiously and slowly at the trunk of the dead tree, the
+summit of which nearly touched the roof of the ajoupa.
+
+This man, of Malay origin, belonging to the sect of the Lughardars
+(Stranglers), after having again listened, rose almost entirely from
+amongst the brushwood. With the exception of white cotton drawers,
+fastened around his middle by a parti-colored sash, he was completely
+naked. His bronze, supple, and nervous limbs were overlaid with a
+thick coat of oil. Stretching himself along the huge trunk on the side
+furthest from the cabin, and thus sheltered by the whole breadth of the
+tree with its surrounding creepers, he began to climb silently, with
+as much patience as caution. In the undulations of his form, in the
+flexibility of his movements, in the restrained vigor, which fully
+put forth would have been alarming, there was some resemblance to the
+stealthy and treacherous advance of the tiger upon its prey.
+
+Having reached, completely unperceived, the inclined portion of the
+tree, which almost touched the roof of the cabin, he was only separated
+from the window by a distance of about a foot. Cautiously advancing his
+head, he looked down into the interior, to see how he might best find an
+entrance.
+
+At sight of Djalma in his deep sleep, the Thug's bright eyes glittered
+with increased brilliancy; a nervous contraction, or rather a mute,
+ferocious laugh, curling the corners of his mouth, drew them up towards
+the cheekbones, and exposed rows of teeth, filed sharp like the points
+of a saw, and dyed of a shining black.
+
+Djalma was lying in such a manner and so near the door of the ajoupa,
+which opened inwards, that, were it moved in the least, he must be
+instantly awakened. The Strangler, with his body still sheltered by the
+tree, wishing to examine more attentively the interior of the cabin,
+leaned very forward, and in order to maintain his balance, lightly
+rested his hand on the ledge of the opening that served for a window.
+This movement shook the large cactus-flowers, within which the little
+serpent lay curled, and, darting forth it twisted itself rapidly round
+the wrist of the Strangler. Whether from pain or surprise, the man
+uttered a low cry; and as he drew back swiftly, still holding by the
+trunk of the tree, he perceived that Djalma had moved.
+
+The young Indian, though retaining his supine posture, had half opened
+his eyes, and turned his head towards the window, whilst his breast
+heaved with a deep-drawn sigh, for, beneath that thick dome of moist
+verdure, the concentrated heat was intolerable.
+
+Hardly had he moved, when, from behind the tree, was heard the shrill,
+brief, sonorous note, which the bird of paradise titters when it takes
+its flight--a cry which resembles that of the pheasant. This note was
+soon repeated, but more faintly, as though the brilliant bird were
+already at a distance. Djalma, thinking he had discovered the cause of
+the noise which had aroused him for an instant, stretched out the arm
+upon which his head had rested, and went to sleep again, with scarcely
+any change of position.
+
+For some minutes, the most profound silence once more reigned in this
+solitude, and everything remained motionless.
+
+The Strangler, by his skillful imitation of the bird, had repaired the
+imprudence of that exclamation of surprise and pain, which the reptile
+bite had forced from him. When he thought all was safe, he again
+advanced his head, and saw the young Indian once more plunged in sleep.
+Then he descended the tree with the same precautions, though his left
+hand was somewhat swollen from the sting of the serpent, and disappeared
+in the jungle.
+
+At that instant a song of monotonous and melancholy cadence was heard
+in the distance. The Strangler raised himself, and listened attentively,
+and his face took an expression of surprise and deadly anger. The song
+came nearer and nearer to the cabin, and, in a few seconds, an Indian,
+passing through an open space in the jungle, approached the spot where
+the Thug lay concealed.
+
+The latter unwound from his waist a long thin cord, to one of the ends
+of which was attached a leaden ball, of the form and size of an egg;
+having fastened the other end of this cord to his right wrist, the
+Strangler again listened, and then disappeared, crawling through the
+tall grass in the direction of the Indian, who still advanced slowly,
+without interrupting his soft and plaintive song.
+
+He was a young fellow scarcely twenty, with a bronzed complexion, the
+slave of Djalma, his vest of blue cotton was confined at the waist by a
+parti-colored sash; he wore a red turban, and silver rings in his ears
+and about his wrists. He was bringing a message to his master, who,
+during the great heat of the day was reposing in the ajoupa, which stood
+at some distance from the house he inhabited.
+
+Arriving at a place where two paths separated, the slave, without
+hesitation took that which led to the cabin, from which he was now
+scarce forty paces distant.
+
+One of those enormous Java butterflies, whose wings extend six or eight
+inches in length, and offer to the eye two streaks of gold on a ground
+of ultramarine, fluttering from leaf to leaf, alighted on a bush of Cape
+jasmine, within the reach of the young Indian. The slave stopped in his
+song, stood still, advanced first a foot, then a hand, and seized the
+butterfly.
+
+Suddenly he sees a dark figure rise before him; he hears a whizzing
+noise like that of a sling; he feels a cord, thrown with as much
+rapidity as force, encircle his neck with a triple band; and, almost in
+the same instant, the leaden ball strikes violently against the back of
+his head.
+
+This attack was so abrupt and unforseen, that Djalma's servant could not
+even utter a single cry, a single groan. He tottered--the Strangler gave
+a vigorous pull at the cord--the bronzed countenance of the slave became
+purple, and he fell upon his knees, convulsively moving his arms. Then
+the Strangler threw him quite down, and pulled the cord so violently,
+that the blood spurted from the skin. The victim struggled for a
+moment--and all was over.
+
+During his short but intense agony, the murderer, kneeling before his
+victim, and watching with ardent eye his least convulsions, seemed
+plunged into an ecstasy of ferocious joy. His nostrils dilated, the
+veins of his neck and temples were swollen, and the same savage laugh,
+which had curled his lips at the aspect of the sleeping Djalma, again
+displayed his pointed black teeth, which a nervous trembling of the jaws
+made to chatter. But soon he crossed his arms upon his heaving breast,
+bowed his forehead, and murmured some mysterious words, which sounded
+like an invocation or a prayer. Immediately after, he returned to the
+contemplation of the dead body. The hyena and the tiger-cat, who, before
+devouring, crouch beside the prey that they have surprised or hunted
+down, have not a wilder or more sanguinary look than this man.
+
+But, remembering that his task was not yet accomplished tearing himself
+unwillingly from the hideous spectacle, he unbound the cord from the
+neck of his victim, fastened it round his own body, dragged the corpse
+out of the path, and, without attempting to rob it of its silver rings,
+concealed it in a thick part of the jungle.
+
+Then the Strangler again began to creep on his knees and belly, till he
+arrived at the cabin of Djalma--that cabin constructed of mats suspended
+from bamboos. After listening attentively, he drew from his girdle a
+knife, the sharp-pointed blade of which was wrapped in a fig-leaf, and
+made in the matting an incision of three feet in length. This was done
+with such quickness, and with so fine a blade, that the light touch of
+the diamond cutting glass would have made more noise. Seeing, by means
+of this opening, which was to serve him for a passage, that Djalma was
+still fast asleep, the Thug, with incredible temerity, glided into the
+cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE TATTOOING
+
+The heavens, which had been till now of transparent blue, became
+gradually of a greenish tint, and the sun was veiled in red, lurid
+vapor. This strange light gave to every object a weird appearance, of
+which one might form an idea, by looking at a landscape through a piece
+of copper colored glass. In those climates, this phenomenon, when united
+with an increase of burning heat, always announces the approach of a
+storm.
+
+From time to time there was a passing odor of sulphur; then the leaves,
+slightly shaken by electric currents, would tremble upon their stalks;
+till again all would return to the former motionless silence. The weight
+of the burning atmosphere, saturated with sharp perfumes, became almost
+intolerable. Large drops of sweat stood in pearls on the forehead of
+Djalma, still plunged in enervating sleep--for it no longer resembled
+rest, but a painful stupor.
+
+The Strangler glided like a reptile along the sides of the ajoupa, and,
+crawling on his belly, arrived at the sleeping-mat of Djalma, beside
+which he squatted himself, so as to occupy as little space as possible.
+Then began a fearful scene, by reason of the mystery and silence which
+surrounded it.
+
+Djalma's life was at the mercy of the Strangler. The latter, resting
+upon his hands and knees, with his neck stretched forward, his eye fixed
+and dilated, continued motionless as a wild beast about to spring. Only
+a slight nervous trembling of the jaws agitated that mask of bronze.
+
+But soon his hideous features revealed a violent struggle that was
+passing within him--a struggle between the thirst, the craving for the
+enjoyment of murder, which the recent assassination of the slave had
+made still more active, and the orders he had received not to attempt
+the life of Djalma, though the design, which brought him to the ajoupa,
+might perhaps be as fatal to the young Indian as death itself. Twice did
+the Strangler, with look of flame, resting only on his left hand, seize
+with his right the rope's end; and twice his hand fell--the instinct of
+murder yielding to a powerful will, of which the Malay acknowledged the
+irresistible empire.
+
+In him, the homicidal craving must have amounted to madness, for, in
+these hesitations, he lost much precious time: at any moment, Djalma,
+whose vigor, skill, and courage were known and feared, might awake from
+his sleep, and, though unarmed, he would prove a terrible adversary. At
+length the Thug made up his mind; with a suppressed sigh of regret, he
+set about accomplishing his task.
+
+This task would have appeared impossible to any one else. The reader may
+judge.
+
+Djalma, with his face turned towards the left, leaned his head upon his
+curved arm. It was first necessary, without waking him, to oblige him to
+turn his face towards the right (that is, towards the door), so that, in
+case of his being half-roused, his first glance might not fall upon the
+Strangler. The latter, to accomplish his projects, would have to remain
+many minutes in the cabin.
+
+The heavens became darker; the heat arrived at its last degree of
+intensity; everything combined to increase the torpor of the sleeper,
+and so favor the Strangler's designs. Kneeling down close to Djalma, he
+began, with the tips of his supple, well-oiled fingers, to stroke the
+brow, temples, and eyelids of the young Indian, but with such extreme
+lightness, that the contact of the two skins was hardly sensible. When
+this kind of magnetic incantation had lasted for some seconds, the
+sweat, which bathed the forehead of Djalma, became more abundant:
+he heaved a smothered sigh, and the muscles of his face gave several
+twitches, for the strokings, although too light to rouse him, yet caused
+in him a feeling of indefinable uneasiness.
+
+Watching him with his restless and burning eye, the Strangler continued
+his maneuvers with so much patience, that Djalma, still sleeping, but
+no longer able to bear this vague, annoying sensation, raised his right
+hand mechanically to his face, as if he would have brushed away an
+importunate insect. But he had not strength to do it; almost immediately
+after, his hand, inert and heavy, fell back upon his chest. The
+Strangler saw, by this symptom, that he was attaining his object, and
+continued to stroke, with the same address, the eyelids, brow, and
+temples.
+
+Whereupon Djalma, more and more oppressed by heavy sleep, and having
+neither strength nor will to raise his hand to his face, mechanically
+turned round his head, which fell languidly upon his right shoulder,
+seeking by this change of attitude, to escape from the disagreeable
+sensation which pursued him. The first point gained, the Strangler could
+act more freely.
+
+To render as profound as possible the sleep he had half interrupted, he
+now strove to imitate the vampire, and, feigning the action of a fan,
+he rapidly moved his extended hands about the burning face of the young
+Indian. Alive to a feeling of such sudden and delicious coolness, in the
+height of suffocating heat, the countenance of Djalma brightened, his
+bosom heaved, his half-opened lips drank in the grateful air, and he
+fell into a sleep only the more invincible, because it had been at first
+disturbed, and was now yielded to under the influence of a pleasing
+sensation.
+
+A sudden flash of lightning illumined the shady dome that sheltered the
+ajoupa: fearing that the first clap of thunder might rouse the young
+Indian, the Strangler hastened to complete his Task. Djalma lay on his
+back, with his head resting on his right shoulder, and his left arm
+extended; the Thug, crouching at his left side, ceased by degrees the
+process of fanning; then, with incredible dexterity, he succeeded in
+rolling up, above the elbow, the long wide sleeve of white muslin that
+covered the left arm of the sleeper.
+
+He next drew from the pocket of his drawers a copper box, from which he
+took a very fine, sharp-pointed needle, and a piece of a black-looking
+root. He pricked this root several times with the needle, and on each
+occasion there issued from it a white, glutinous liquid.
+
+When the Strangler thought the needle sufficiently impregnated with this
+juice, he bent down, and began to blow gently over the inner surface of
+Djalma's arm, so as to cause a fresh sensation of coolness; then, with
+the point of his needle, he traced almost imperceptibly on the skin of
+the sleeping youth some mysterious and symbolical signs. All this was
+performed so cleverly and the point of the needle was so fine and keen,
+that Djalma did not feel the action of the acid upon the skin.
+
+The signs, which the Strangler had traced, soon appeared on the surface,
+at first in characters of a pale rose-color, as fine as a hair; but
+such was the slowly corrosive power of the juice, that, as it worked and
+spread beneath the skin, they would become in a few hours of a violet
+red, and as apparent as they were now almost invisible.
+
+The Strangler, having so perfectly succeeded in his project, threw a
+last look of ferocious longing on the slumbering Indian, and creeping
+away from the mat, regained the opening by which he had entered the
+cabin; next, closely uniting the edges of the incision, so as to obviate
+all suspicion, he disappeared just as the thunder began to rumble
+hoarsely in the distance.(4)
+
+(4) We read in the letters of the late Victor Jacquemont upon India,
+with regard to the incredible dexterity of these men: "They crawl on the
+ground, ditches, in the furrows of fields, imitate a hundred different
+voices, and dissipate the effect of any accidental noise by raising the
+yelp of the jackal or note of some bird--then are silent, and another
+imitates the call of the same animal in the distance. They can molest a
+sleeper by all sorts of noises and slight touches, and make his body
+and limbs take any position which suits their purpose." Count Edward
+de Warren, in his excellent work on English India, which we shall have
+again occasion to quote, expresses himself in the same manner as to the
+inconceivable address of the Indians: "They have the art," says he, "to
+rob you, without interrupting your sleep, of the very sheet in which
+you are enveloped. This is not 'a traveller's tale.' but a fact. The
+movements of the bheel are those of the serpent. If you sleep in your
+tent, with a servant lying across each entrance, the bheel will come
+and crouch on the outside, in some shady corner, where he can hear the
+breathing of those within. As soon as the European sleeps, he feels
+sure of success, for the Asiatic will not long resist the attraction of
+repose. At the proper moment, he makes a vertical incision in the cloth
+of the tent, on the spot where he happens to be, and just large enough
+to admit him. He glides through like a phantom, without making the least
+grain of sand creak beneath his tread. He is perfectly naked, and all
+his body is rubbed over with oil; a two-edged knife is suspended from
+his neck. He will squat down close to your couch, and, with incredible
+coolness and dexterity, will gather up the sheet in very little folds,
+so as to occupy the least surface possible; then, passing to the other
+side, he will lightly tickle the sleeper, whom he seems to magnetize,
+till the latter shrinks back involuntarily, and ends by turning round,
+and leaving the sheet folded behind him. Should he awake, and strive to
+seize the robber, he catches at a slippery form, which slides through
+his hands like an eel; should he even succeed in seizing him, it would
+be fatal--the dagger strikes him to the heart, he falls bathed in his
+blood, and the assassin disappears."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. THE SMUGGLER
+
+The tempest of the morning has long been over. The sun is verging
+towards the horizon. Some hours have elapsed, since the Strangler
+introduced himself into Djalma's cabin, and tattooed him with a
+mysterious sign during his sleep.
+
+A horseman advances rapidly down a long avenue of spreading trees.
+Sheltered by the thick and verdant arch, a thousand birds salute the
+splendid evening with songs and circlings; red and green parrots climb,
+by help of their hooked beaks, to the top of pink-blossomed acacias;
+large Morea birds of the finest and richest blue, whose throats and
+long tails change in the light to a golden brown, are chasing the prince
+oriels, clothed in their glossy feathers of black and orange; Kolo
+doves, of a changeable violet hue, are gently cooing by the side of the
+birds of paradise, in whose brilliant plumage are mingled the prismatic
+colors of the emerald and ruby, the topaz and sapphire.
+
+This avenue, a little raised, commanded a view of a small pond, which
+reflected at intervals the green shade of tamarind trees. In the calm,
+limpid waters, many fish were visible, some with silver scales and
+purple fins, others gleaming with azure and vermilion; so still were
+they that they looked as if set in a mass of bluish crystal, and, as
+they dwelt motionless near the surface of the pool, on which played a
+dazzling ray of the sun, they revelled in the enjoyment of the light
+and heat. A thousand insects--living gems, with wings of flame--glided,
+fluttered and buzzed over the transparent wave, in which, at an
+extraordinary depth, were mirrored the variegated tints of the aquatic
+plants on the bank.
+
+It is impossible to give an adequate idea of the exuberant nature of
+this scene, luxuriant in the sunlight, colors, and perfumes, which
+served, so to speak, as a frame to the young and brilliant rider, who
+was advancing along the avenue. It was Djalma. He had not yet perceived
+the indelible marks, which the Strangler had traced upon his left arm.
+
+His Japanese mare, of slender make, full of fire and vigor, is black
+as night. A narrow red cloth serves instead of saddle. To moderate the
+impetuous bounds of the animal, Djalma uses a small steel bit, with
+headstall and reins of twisted scarlet silk, fine as a thread.
+
+Not one of those admirable riders, sculptured so masterly on the frieze
+of the Parthenon, sits his horse more gracefully and proudly than this
+young Indian, whose fine face, illumined by the setting sun, is radiant
+with serene happiness; his eyes sparkle with joy, and his dilated
+nostrils and unclosed lips inhale with delight the balmy breeze, that
+brings to him the perfume of flowers and the scent of fresh leaves, for
+the trees are still moist from the abundant rain that fell after the
+storm.
+
+A red cap, similar to that worn by the Greeks, surmounting the
+black locks of Djalma, sets off to advantage the golden tint of his
+complexion; his throat is bare; he is clad in his robe of white muslin
+with large sleeves, confined at the waist by a scarlet sash; very full
+drawers, in white cotton stuff, leave half uncovered his tawny and
+polished legs; their classic curve stands out from the dark sides of the
+horse, which he presses tightly between his muscular calves. He has no
+stirrups; his foot, small and narrow, is shod with a sandal of morocco
+leather.
+
+The rush of his thoughts, by turns impetuous and restrained, was
+expressed in some degree by the pace he imparted to his horse--now bold
+and precipitate, like the flight of unbridled imagination--now calm and
+measured, like the reflection which succeeds an idle dream. But, in
+all this fantastic course, his least movements were distinguished by a
+proud, independent and somewhat savage grace.
+
+Dispossessed of his paternal territory by the English, and at first
+detained by them as a state-prisoner after the death of his father--who
+(as M. Joshua Van Dael had written to M. Rodin) had fallen sword in
+hand--Djalma had at length been restored to liberty. Abandoning the
+continent of India, and still accompanied by General Simon, who had
+lingered hard by the prison of his old friend's son, the young Indian
+came next to Batavia, the birthplace of his mother, to collect the
+modest inheritance of his maternal ancestors. And amongst this property,
+so long despised or forgotten by his father, he found some important
+papers, and a medal exactly similar to that worn by Rose and Blanche.
+
+General Simon was not more surprised than pleased at this discovery,
+which not only established a tie of kindred between his wife and
+Djalma's mother, but which also seemed to promise great advantages for
+the future. Leaving Djalma at Batavia, to terminate some business there,
+he had gone to the neighboring island of Sumatra, in the hope of finding
+a vessel that would make the passage to Europe directly and rapidly;
+for it was now necessary that, cost what it might, the young Indian also
+should be at Paris on the 13th February, 1832. Should General Simon
+find a vessel ready to sail for Europe, he was to return immediately, to
+fetch Djalma; and the latter, expecting him daily, was now going to the
+pier of Batavia, hoping to see the father of Rose and Blanche arrive by
+the mail boat from Sumatra.
+
+A few words are here necessary on the early life of the son of Kadja
+sing.
+
+Having lost his mother very young, and brought up with rude simplicity,
+he had accompanied his father, whilst yet a child, to the great tiger
+hunts, as dangerous as battles; and, in the first dawn of youth, he had
+followed him to the stern bloody war, which he waged in defence of his
+country. Thus living, from the time of his mother's death, in the
+midst of forests and mountains and continual combats, his vigorous and
+ingenuous nature had preserved itself pure, and he well merited the name
+of "The Generous" bestowed on him. Born a prince, he was--which by no
+means follows--a prince indeed. During the period of his captivity,
+the silent dignity of his bearing had overawed his jailers. Never a
+reproach, never a complaint--a proud and melancholy calm was all that
+he opposed to a treatment as unjust as it was barbarous, until he was
+restored to freedom.
+
+Having thus been always accustomed to a patriarchal life, or to a war of
+mountaineers, which he had only quitted to pass a few months in prison,
+Djalma knew nothing, so to speak, of civilized society. Without its
+exactly amounting to a defect, he certainly carried his good qualities
+to their extreme limits. Obstinately faithful to his pledged word,
+devoted to the death, confiding to blindness, good almost to a complete
+forgetfulness of himself, he was inflexible towards ingratitude,
+falsehood, or perfidy. He would have felt no compunction to sacrifice
+a traitor, because, could he himself have committed a treason, he would
+have thought it only just to expiate it with his life.
+
+He was, in a word, the man of natural feelings, absolute and entire.
+Such a man, brought into contact with the temperaments, calculations,
+falsehoods, deceptions, tricks, restrictions, and hollowness of a
+refined society, such as Paris, for example, would, without doubt,
+form a very curious subject for speculation. We raise this hypothesis,
+because, since his journey to France had been determined on, Djalma had
+one fixed, ardent desire--to be in Paris.
+
+In Paris--that enchanted city--of which, even in Asia, the land of
+enchantment, so many marvelous tales were told.
+
+What chiefly inflamed the fresh, vivid imagination of the young Indian,
+was the thought of French women--those attractive Parisian beauties,
+miracles of elegance and grace, who eclipsed, he was informed, even the
+magnificence of the capitals of the civilized world. And at this very
+moment, in the brightness of that warm and splendid evening, surrounded
+by the intoxication of flowers and perfumes, which accelerated the
+pulses of his young fiery heart, Djalma was dreaming of those exquisite
+creatures, whom his fancy loved to clothe in the most ideal garbs.
+
+It seemed to him as if, at the end of the avenue, in the midst of that
+sheet of golden light, which the trees encompassed with their full,
+green arch, he could see pass and repass, white and sylph-like, a host
+of adorable and voluptuous phantoms, that threw him kisses from the tips
+of their rosy fingers. Unable to restrain his burning emotions, carried
+away by a strange enthusiasm, Djalma uttered exclamations of joy, deep,
+manly, and sonorous, and made his vigorous courser bound under him in
+the excitement of a mad delight. Just then a sunbeam, piercing the dark
+vault of the avenue, shone full upon him.
+
+For several minutes, a man had been advancing rapidly along a path,
+which, at its termination, intersected the avenue diagonally. He stopped
+a moment in the shade, looking at Djalma with astonishment. It was
+indeed a charming sight, to behold, in the midst of a blaze of dazzling
+lustre, this youth, so handsome, joyous, and ardent, clad in his white
+and flowing vestments, gayly and lightly seated on his proud black mare,
+who covered her red bridle with her foam, and whose long tail and thick
+mane floated on the evening breeze.
+
+But, with that reaction which takes place in all human desires, Djalma
+soon felt stealing over him a sentiment of soft, undefinable melancholy.
+He raised his hand to his eyes, now dimmed with moisture, and allowed
+the reins to fall on the mane of his docile steed, which, instantly
+stopping, stretched out its long neck, and turned its head in the
+direction of the personage, whom it could see approaching through the
+coppice.
+
+This man, Mahal the Smuggler, was dressed nearly like European sailors.
+He wore jacket and trousers of white duck, a broad red sash, and a
+very low-crowned straw hat. His face was brown, with strongly-marked
+features, and, though forty years of age, he was quite beardless.
+
+In another moment, Mahal was close to the young Indian. "You are Prince
+Djalma?" said he, in not very good French, raising his hand respectfully
+to his hat.
+
+"What would you?" said the Indian.
+
+"You are the son of Kadja-sing?"
+
+"Once again, what would you?"
+
+"The friend of General Simon?"
+
+"General Simon?" cried Djalma.
+
+"You are going to meet him, as you have gone every evening, since you
+expect his return from Sumatra?"
+
+"Yes, but how do you know all this?" said the Indian looking at the
+Smuggler with as much surprise as curiosity.
+
+"Is he not to land at Batavia, to-day or to-morrow?"
+
+"Are you sent by him?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Mahal, with a distrustful air. "But are you really the
+son of Kadja-sing?"
+
+"Yes, I tell you--but where have you seen General Simon?"
+
+"If you are the son of Kadja-sing," resumed Mahal, continuing to regard
+Djalma with a suspicious eye, "what is your surname?"
+
+"My sire was called the 'Father of the Generous,'" answered the young
+Indian, as a shade of sorrow passed over his fine countenance.
+
+These words appeared in part to convince Mahal of the identity of
+Djalma; but, wishing doubtless to be still more certain, he resumed:
+"You must have received, two days ago, a letter from General Simon,
+written from Sumatra?"
+
+"Yes; but why so many questions?"
+
+"To assure myself that you are really the son of Kadja-sing, and to
+execute the orders I have received."
+
+"From whom?"
+
+"From General Simon."
+
+"But where is he?"
+
+"When I have proof that you are Prince Djalma, I will tell you. I was
+informed that you would be mounted on a black mare, with a red bridle.
+But--"
+
+"By the soul of my mother! speak what you have to say!"
+
+"I will tell you all--if you can tell me what was the printed paper,
+contained in the last letter that General Simon wrote you from Sumatra."
+
+"It was a cutting from a French newspaper."
+
+"Did it announce good or bad news for the general?"
+
+"Good news--for it related that, during his absence, they had
+acknowledged the last rank and title bestowed on him by the Emperor, as
+they had done for others of his brothers in arms, exiled like him."
+
+"You are indeed Prince Djalma," said the Smuggler, after a moment's
+reflection. "I may speak. General Simon landed last night in Java, but
+on a desert part of the coast."
+
+"On a desert part?"
+
+"Because he has to hide himself."
+
+"Hide himself!" exclaimed Djalma, in amazement; "why?"
+
+"That I don't know."
+
+"But where is he?" asked Djalma, growing pale with alarm.
+
+"He is three leagues hence--near the sea-shore--in the ruins of
+Tchandi."
+
+"Obliged to hide himself!" repeated Djalma, and his countenance
+expressed increasing surprise and anxiety.
+
+"Without being certain, I think it is because of a duel he fought in
+Sumatra," said the Smuggler, mysteriously.
+
+"A duel--with whom?"
+
+"I don't know--I am not at all certain on the subject. But do you know
+the ruins of Tchandi?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The general expects you there; that is what he ordered me to tell you."
+
+"So you came with him from Sumatra?"
+
+"I was pilot of the little smuggling coaster, that landed him in the
+night on a lonely beach. He knew that you went every day to the mole,
+to wait for him; I was almost sure that I should meet you. He gave me
+details about the letter you received from him as a proof that he had
+sent me. If he could have found the means of writing, he would have
+written."
+
+"But he did not tell you why he was obliged to hide himself?"
+
+"He told me nothing. Certain words made me suspect what I told you--a
+duel."
+
+Knowing the mettle of General Simon, Djalma thought the suspicions of
+the Smuggler not unfounded. After a moment's silence he said to him:
+"Can you undertake to lead home my horse? My dwelling is without the
+town--there, in the midst of those trees--by the side of the new mosque.
+In ascending the mountain of Tchandi, my horse would be in my way; I
+shall go much faster on foot."
+
+"I know where you live; General Simon told me. I should have gone there
+if I had not met you. Give me your horse."
+
+Djalma sprang lightly to the ground, threw the bridle to Mahal, unrolled
+one end of his sash, took out a silk purse, and gave it to the Smuggler,
+saying: "You have been faithful and obedient. Here!--it is a trifle--but
+I have no more."
+
+"Kadja-sing was rightly called the 'Father of the Generous,'" said
+the Smuggler, bowing with respect and gratitude. He took the road to
+Batavia, leading Djalma's horse. The young Indian, on the contrary,
+plunged into the coppice, and, walking with great strides, he directed
+his course towards the mountain, on which were the ruins of Tchandi,
+where he could not arrive before night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL.
+
+M. Joshua Van Dael a Dutch merchant, and correspondent of M. Rodin, was
+born at Batavia, the capital of the island of Java; his parents had sent
+him to be educated at Pondicherry, in a celebrated religious house, long
+established in that place, and belonging to the "Society of Jesus."
+It was there that he was initiated into the order as "professor of the
+three vows," or lay member, commonly called "temporal coadjutor."
+
+Joshua was a man of probity that passed for stainless; of strict
+accuracy in business, cold, careful, reserved, and remarkably skillful
+and sagacious; his financial operations were almost always successful,
+for a protecting power gave him ever in time, knowledge of events
+which might advantageously influence his commercial transactions. The
+religious house of Pondicherry was interested in his affairs, having
+charged him with the exportation and exchange of the produce of its
+large possessions in this colony.
+
+Speaking little, hearing much, never disputing, polite in the
+extreme--giving seldom, but with choice and purpose--Joshua, without
+inspiring sympathy, commanded generally that cold respect, which is
+always paid to the rigid moralist; for instead of yielding to the
+influence of lax and dissolute colonial manners, he appeared to live
+with great regularity, and his exterior had something of austerity about
+it, which tended to overawe.
+
+The following scene took place at Batavia, while Djalma was on his way
+to the ruins of Tchandi in the hope of meeting General Simon.
+
+M. Joshua had just retired into his cabinet, in which were many shelves
+filled with paper boxes, and huge ledgers and cash boxes lying open upon
+desks. The only window of this apartment, which was on the ground floor,
+looked out upon a narrow empty court, and was protected externally by
+strong iron bars; instead of glass, it was fitted with a Venetian blind,
+because of the extreme heat of the climate.
+
+M. Joshua, having placed upon his desk a taper in a glass globe, looked
+at the clock. "Half-past nine," said he. "Mahal ought soon to be here."
+
+Saying this, he went out, passing through an antechamber, opened a
+second thick door, studded with nail-heads, in the Dutch fashion,
+cautiously entered the court (so as not to be heard by the people in
+the house), and drew back the secret bolt of a gate six feet high,
+formidably garnished with iron spikes. Leaving this gate unfastened, he
+regained his cabinet, after he had successively and carefully closed the
+two other doors behind him.
+
+M. Joshua next seated himself at his desk, and took from a drawer a long
+letter, or rather statement, commenced some time before, and continued
+day by day. It is superfluous to observe, that the letter already
+mentioned, as addressed to M. Rodin, was anterior to the liberation of
+Djalma and his arrival at Batavia.
+
+The present statement was also addressed to M. Rodin, and Van Dael thus
+went on with it:
+
+"Fearing the return of General Simon, of which I had been informed by
+intercepting his letters--I have already told you, that I had succeeded
+in being employed by him as his agent here; having then read his
+letters, and sent them on as if untouched to Djalma, I felt myself
+obliged, from the pressure of the circumstances, to have recourse
+to extreme measures--taking care always to preserve appearances, and
+rendering at the same time a signal service to humanity, which last
+reason chiefly decided me.
+
+"A new danger imperiously commanded these measures. The steamship
+'Ruyter' came in yesterday, and sails tomorrow in the course of the day.
+She is to make the voyage to Europe via the Arabian Gulf; her passengers
+will disembark at Suez, cross the Isthmus, and go on board another
+vessel at Alexandria, which will bring them to France. This voyage, as
+rapid as it is direct, will not take more than seven or eight weeks. We
+are now at the end of October; Prince Djalma might then be in France
+by the commencement of the month of January; and according to your
+instructions, of which I know not the motive, but which I execute with
+zeal and submission, his departure must be prevented at all hazards,
+because, you tell me, some of the gravest interests of the Society would
+be compromised, by the arrival of this young Indian in Paris before the
+13th of February. Now, if I succeed, as I hope, in making him miss this
+opportunity of the 'Ruyter' it will be materially impossible for him to
+arrive in France before the month of April; for the 'Ruyter' is the only
+vessel which makes the direct passage, the others taking at least four
+or five months to reach Europe.
+
+"Before telling you the means which I have thought right to employ,
+to detain Prince Djalma--of the success of which means I am yet
+uncertain--it is well that you should be acquainted with the following
+facts.
+
+"They have just discovered, in British India, a community whose members
+call themselves 'Brothers of the Good Work,' or 'Phansegars,' which
+signifies simply 'Thugs' or 'Stranglers;' these murderers do not shed
+blood, but strangle their victims, less for the purpose of robbing
+them, than in obedience to a homicidal vocation, and to the laws of an
+infernal divinity named by them 'Bowanee.'
+
+"I cannot better give you an idea of this horrible sect, than by
+transcribing here some lines from the introduction of a report
+by Colonel Sleeman, who has hunted out this dark association with
+indefatigable zeal. The report in question was published about two
+months ago. Here is the extract; it is the colonel who speaks:
+
+"'From 1822 to 1824, when I was charged with the magistracy and civil
+administration of the district of Nersingpore, not a murder, not the
+least robbery was committed by an ordinary criminal, without my being
+immediately informed of it; but if any one had come and told me at this
+period, that a band of hereditary assassins by profession lived in the
+village of Kundelie, within about four hundred yards of my court of
+justice--that the beautiful groves of the village of Mundesoor, within
+a day's march of my residence, formed one of the most frightful marts of
+assassination in all India--that numerous bands of 'Brothers of the Good
+Work,' coming from Hindostan and the Deccan, met annually beneath these
+shades, as at a solemn festival, to exercise their dreadful vocation
+upon all the roads which cross each other in this locality--I should
+have taken such a person for a madman, or one who had been imposed upon
+by idle tales. And yet nothing could be truer; hundreds of travellers
+had been buried every year in the groves of Mundesoor; a whole tribe
+of assassins lived close to my door, at the very time I was supreme
+magistrate of the province, and extended their devastations to the
+cities of Poonah and Hyderabad. I shall never forget, when, to convince
+me of the fact, one of the chiefs of the Stranglers, who had turned
+informer against them, caused thirteen bodies to be dug up from the
+ground beneath my tent, and offered to produce any number from the soil
+in the immediate vicinity.'(5)
+
+"These few words of Colonel Sleeman will give some idea of this dread
+society, which has its laws, duties, customs, opposed to all other
+laws, human and divine. Devoted to each other, even to heroism,
+blindly obedient to their chiefs, who profess themselves the immediate
+representatives of their dark divinity, regarding as enemies all who do
+not belong to them, gaining recruits everywhere by a frightful system of
+proselytising--these apostles of a religion of murder go preaching their
+abominable doctrines in the shade, and spreading their immense net over
+the whole of India.
+
+"Three of their principal chiefs, and one of their adepts, flying from
+the determined pursuit of the English governor-general, having succeeded
+in making their escape, had arrived at the Straits of Malacca, at no
+great distance from our island; a smuggler, who is also something of a
+pirate, attached to their association, and by name Mahal, took them on
+board his coasting vessel, and brought them hither, where they think
+themselves for some time in safety--as, following the advice of the
+smuggler, they lie concealed in a thick forest, in which are many ruined
+temples and numerous subterranean retreats.
+
+"Amongst these chiefs, all three remarkably intelligent, there is one
+in particular, named Faringhea, whose extraordinary energy and eminent
+qualities make him every way redoubtable. He is of the mixed race,
+half white and Hindoo, has long inhabited towns in which are European
+factories and speaks English and French very well. The other two chiefs
+are a Negro and a Hindoo; the adept is a Malay.
+
+"The smuggler, Mahal, considering that he could obtain a large reward
+by giving up these three chiefs and their adept, came to me, knowing, as
+all the world knows, my intimate relations with a person who has great
+influence with our governor. Two days ago, he offered me, on certain
+conditions, to deliver up the Negro, the half-caste, the Hindoo, and
+the Malay. These conditions are--a considerable sum of money, and a free
+passage on board a vessel sailing for Europe or America, in order to
+escape the implacable vengeance of the Thugs.
+
+"I joyfully seized the occasion to hand over three such murderers to
+human justice, and I promised Mahal to arrange matters for him with the
+governor, but also on certain conditions, innocent in themselves, and
+which concerned Djalma. Should my project succeed, I will explain myself
+more at length; I shall soon know the result, for I expect Mahal every
+minute.
+
+"But before I close these despatches, which are to go tomorrow by the
+'Ruyter'--in which vessel I have also engaged a passage for Mahal the
+Smuggler, in the event of the success of my plans--I must include in
+parentheses a subject of some importance.
+
+"In my last letter, in which I announced to you the death of Djalma's
+father, and his own imprisonment by the English, I asked for
+some information as to the solvency of Baron Tripeaud, banker and
+manufacturer at Paris, who has also an agency at Calcutta. This
+information will now be useless, if what I have just learned should,
+unfortunately, turn out to be correct, and it will be for you to act
+according to circumstances.
+
+"This house at Calcutta owes considerable sums both to me and our
+colleague at Pondicherry, and it is said that M. Tripeaud has involved
+himself to a dangerous extent in attempting to ruin, by opposition, a
+very flourishing establishment, founded some time ago by M. Francois
+Hardy, an eminent manufacturer. I am assured that M. Tripeaud has
+already sunk and lost a large capital in this enterprise: he has no
+doubt done a great deal of harm to M. Francois Hardy; but he has also,
+they say, seriously compromised his own fortune--and, were he to fail,
+the effects of his disaster would be very fatal to us, seeing that he
+owes a large sum of money to me and to us.
+
+"In this state of things it would be very desirable if, by the
+employment of the powerful means of every kind at our disposal, we could
+completely discredit and break down the house of M. Francois Hardy,
+already shaken by M. Tripeaud's violent opposition. In that case, the
+latter would soon regain all he has lost; the ruin of his rival would
+insure his prosperity, and our demands would be securely covered.
+
+"Doubtless, it is painful, it is sad, to be obliged to have recourse to
+these extreme measures, only to get back our own; but, in these days,
+are we not surely justified in sometimes using the arms that are
+incessantly turned against us? If we are reduced to such steps by the
+injustice and wickedness of men, we may console ourselves with the
+reflection that we only seek to preserve our worldly possessions, in
+order to devote them to the greater glory of God; whilst, in the hands
+of our enemies, those very goods are the dangerous instruments of
+perdition and scandal.
+
+"After all it is merely a humble proposition that I submit to you. Were
+it in my power to take an active part in the matter, I should do nothing
+of myself. My will is not my own. It belongs, with all I possess, to
+those whom I have sworn absolute obedience."
+
+Here a slight noise interrupted M. Joshua, and drew his attention from
+his work. He rose abruptly, and went straight to the window. Three
+gentle taps were given on the outside of one of the slats of the blind.
+
+"Is it you, Mahal?" asked M. Joshua, in a low voice.
+
+"It is I," was answered from without, also in a low tone.
+
+"And the Malay?"
+
+"He has succeeded."
+
+"Really!" cried M. Joshua, with an expression of great satisfaction;
+"are you sure of it?"
+
+"Quite sure: there is no devil more clever and intrepid."
+
+"And Djalma?"
+
+"The parts of the letter, which I quoted, convinced him that I came from
+General Simon, and that he would find him at the ruins of Tchandi."
+
+"Therefore, at this moment--"
+
+"Djalma goes to the ruins, where he will encounter the black, the half
+blood, and the Indian. It is there they have appointed to meet the
+Malay, who tattooed the prince during his sleep."
+
+"Have you been to examine the subterraneous passage?"
+
+"I went there yesterday. One of the stones of the pedestal of the statue
+turns upon itself; the stairs are large; it will do."
+
+"And the three chiefs have no suspicion?"
+
+"None--I saw them in the morning--and this evening the Malay came to
+tell me all, before he went to join them at the ruins of Tchandi--for
+he had remained hidden amongst the bushes, not daring to go there in the
+daytime."
+
+"Mahal--if you have told the truth, and if all succeed--your pardon and
+ample reward are assured to you. Your berth has been taken on board the
+'Ruyter;' you will sail to-morrow; you will thus be safe from the malice
+of the Stranglers, who would follow you hither to revenge the death of
+their chiefs, Providence having chosen you to deliver those three great
+criminals to justice. Heaven will bless you!--Go and wait for me at the
+door of the governor's house; I will introduce you. The matter is so
+important that I do not hesitate to disturb him thus late in the night.
+Go quickly!--I will follow on my side."
+
+The steps of Mahal were distinctly audible, as he withdrew
+precipitately, and then silence reigned once more in the house. Joshua
+returned to his desk, and hastily added these words to the despatch,
+which he had before commenced:
+
+"Whatever may now happen, it will be impossible for Djalma to leave
+Batavia at present. You may rest quite satisfied; he will not be at
+Paris by the 13th of next February. As I foresaw, I shall have to be up
+all night.--I am just going to the governor's. To-morrow I will add
+a few lines to this long statement, which the steamship 'Ruyter' will
+convey to Europe."
+
+Having locked up his papers, Joshua rang the bell loudly, and, to the
+great astonishment of his servants, not accustomed to see him leave home
+in the middle of the night, went in all haste to the residence of the
+governor of the island.
+
+We now conduct the reader to the ruins of Tchandi.
+
+(5) This report is extracted from Count Edward de Warren's excellent
+work, "British India in 1831."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. THE RUINS OF TCHANDI. To the storm in the middle of the
+day, the approach of which so well served the Strangler's designs upon
+Djalma, has succeeded a calm and serene night. The disk of the moon
+rises slowly behind a mass of lofty ruins, situated on a hill, in the
+midst of a thick wood, about three leagues from Batavia.
+
+Long ranges of stone, high walls of brick, fretted away by time,
+porticoes covered with parasitical vegetation, stand out boldly from the
+sheet of silver light which blends the horizon with the limpid blue of
+the heavens. Some rays of the moon, gliding through the opening on one
+of these porticoes, fall upon two colossal statues at the foot of
+an immense staircase, the loose stones of which are almost entirely
+concealed by grass, moss, and brambles.
+
+The fragments of one of these statues, broken in the middle, lie
+strewed upon the ground; the other, which remains whole and standing, is
+frightful to behold. It represents a man of gigantic proportions, with
+a head three feet high; the expression of the countenance is ferocious,
+eyes of brilliant slaty black are set beneath gray brows, the large,
+deep mouth gapes immoderately, and reptiles have made their nest between
+the lips of stone; by the light of the moon, a hideous swarm is
+there dimly visible. A broad girdle, adorned with symbolic ornaments,
+encircles the body of this statue, and fastens a long sword to its right
+side. The giant has four extended arms, and, in his great hands, he
+bears an elephant's head, a twisted serpent, a human skull, and a bird
+resembling a heron. The moon, shedding her light on the profile of this
+statue, serves to augment the weirdness of its aspect.
+
+Here and there, enclosed in the half-crumbling walls of brick, are
+fragments of stone bas-reliefs, very boldly cut; one of those in the
+best preservation represents a man with the head of an elephant, and the
+wings of a bat, devouring a child. Nothing can be more gloomy than these
+ruins, buried among thick trees of a dark green, covered with frightful
+emblems, and seen by the moonlight, in the midst of the deep silence of
+night.
+
+Against one of the walls of this ancient temple, dedicated to some
+mysterious and bloody Javanese divinity, leans a kind of hut, rudely
+constructed of fragments of brick and stone; the door, made of woven
+rushes, is open, and a red light streams from it, which throws its rays
+on the tall grass that covers the ground. Three men are assembled in
+this hovel, around a clay-lamp, with a wick of cocoanut fibre steeped in
+palm-oil.
+
+The first of these three, about forty years of age, is poorly clad in
+the European fashion; his pale, almost white, complexion, announces
+that he belongs to the mixed race, being offspring of a white father and
+Indian mother.
+
+The second is a robust African negro, with thick lips, vigorous
+shoulders, and lank legs; his woolly hair is beginning to turn gray;
+he is covered with rags, and stands close beside the Indian. The third
+personage is asleep, and stretched on a mat in the corner of the hovel.
+
+These three men are the three Thuggee chiefs, who, obliged to fly from
+the continent of India, have taken refuge in Java, under the guidance of
+Mahal the Smuggler.
+
+"The Malay does not return," said the half-blood, named Faringhea, the
+most redoubtable chief of this homicidal sect: "in executing our orders,
+he has perhaps been killed by Djalma."
+
+"The storm of this morning brought every reptile out of the earth," said
+the negro; "the Malay must have been bitten, and his body ere now a nest
+of serpents."
+
+"To serve the good work," proceeded Faringhea, with a gloomy air, "one
+must know how to brave death."
+
+"And to inflict it," added the negro.
+
+A stifled cry, followed by some inarticulate words, here drew the
+attention of these two men, who hastily turned their heads in the
+direction of the sleeper. This latter was thirty years old at most. His
+beardless face, of a bright copper color, his robe of coarse stuff, his
+turban striped brown and yellow, showed that he belonged to the pure
+Hindoo race. His sleep appeared agitated by some painful vision; an
+abundant sweat streamed over his countenance, contracted by terror; he
+spoke in his dream, but his words were brief and broken, and accompanied
+with convulsive starts.
+
+"Again that dream!" said Faringhea to the negro. "Always the remembrance
+of that man."
+
+"What man?"
+
+"Do you not remember, how, five years ago, that savage, Colonel Kennedy,
+butcher of the Indians, came to the banks of the Ganges, to hunt the
+tiger, with twenty horses, four elephants, and fifty servants?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said the negro; "and we three, hunters of men, made a better
+day's sport than he did. Kennedy, his horses, his elephants, and his
+numerous servants did not get their tiger--but we got ours," he added,
+with grim irony. "Yes; Kennedy, that tiger with a human face, fell into
+our ambush, and the brothers of the good work offered up their fine prey
+to our goddess Bowanee."
+
+"If you remember, it was just at the moment when we gave the last tug to
+the cord round Kennedy's neck, that we perceived on a sudden a traveller
+close at hand. He had seen us, and it was necessary to make away with
+him. Now, since that time," added Faringhea, "the remembrance of the
+murder of that man pursues our brother in his dreams," and he pointed to
+the sleeping Indian.
+
+"And even when he is awake," said the negro, looking at Faringhea with a
+significant air.
+
+"Listen!" said the other, again pointing to the Indian, who, in the
+agitation of his dream, recommenced talking in abrupt sentences;
+"listen! he is repeating the answers of the traveller, when we told
+him he must die, or serve with us on Thuggee. His mind is still
+impressed--deeply impressed--with those words."
+
+And, in fact, the Indian repeated aloud in his sleep, a sort of
+mysterious dialogue, of which he himself supplied both questions and
+answers.
+
+"'Traveller,' said he, in a voice broken by sudden pauses, 'why that
+black mark on your forehead, stretching from one temple to the other? It
+is a mark of doom and your look is sad as death. Have you been a victim?
+Come with us; Kallee will avenge you. You have suffered?'--'Yes, I
+have greatly suffered.'--'For a long time?'--'Yes, for a very long
+time.'--'You suffer even now?'--'Yes, even now.'--What do you reserve
+for those who injure you?'--'My pity.'--'Will you not render blow for
+blow?'--'I will return love for hate.'--'Who are you, then, that render
+good for evil?'--'I am one who loves, and suffers, and forgives.'"
+
+"Brother, do you hear?" said the negro to Faringhea; "he has not
+forgotten the words of the traveller before his death."
+
+"The vision follows him. Listen! he will speak again. How pale he is!"
+Still under the influence of his dream, the Indian continued:
+
+"'Traveller, we are three; we are brave; we have your life in our
+hands--you have seen us sacrifice to the good work. Be one of us, or
+die--die--die! Oh, that look! Not thus--do not look at me thus!'" As he
+uttered these last words, the Indian made a sudden movement, as if to
+keep off some approaching object, and awoke with a start. Then, passing
+his hand over his moist forehead, he looked round him with a bewildered
+eye.
+
+"What! again this dream, brother?" said Faringhea. "For a bold hunter of
+men, you have a weak head. Luckily, you have a strong heart and arm."
+
+The other remained a moment silent, his face buried in his hands; then
+he replied: "It is long since I last dreamed of that traveller."
+
+"Is he not dead?" said Faringhea, shrugging his shoulders. "Did you not
+yourself throw the cord around his neck?"
+
+"Yes," replied the Indian shuddering.
+
+"Did we not dig his grave by the side of Colonel Kennedy's? Did we not
+bury him with the English butcher, under the sand and the rushes?" said
+the negro.
+
+"Yes, we dug his grave," said the Indian, trembling; "and yet, only a
+year ago, I was seated one evening at the gate of Bombay, waiting for
+one of our brothers--the sun was setting behind the pagoda, to the right
+of the little hill--the scene is all before me now--I was seated under a
+figtree--when I heard a slow, firm, even step, and, as I turned round my
+head--I saw him--coming out of the town."
+
+"A vision," said the negro; "always the same vision!"
+
+"A vision," added Faringhea, "or a vague resemblance."
+
+"I knew him by the black mark on his forehead; it was none but he.
+I remained motionless with fear, gazing at him with eyes aghast. He
+stopped, bending upon me his calm, sad look. In spite of myself, I
+could not help exclaiming: 'It is he!'--'Yes,' he replied, in his gentle
+voice, 'it is I. Since all whom thou killest must needs live again,' and
+he pointed to heaven as he spoke, 'why shouldst thou kill?--Hear me! I
+have just come from Java; I am going to the other end of the world, to a
+country of never-melting snow; but, here or there, on plains of fire or
+plains of ice, I shall still be the same. Even so is it with the souls
+of those who fall beneath thy kalleepra; in this world or up above, in
+this garb or in another, the soul must still be a soul; thou canst not
+smite it. Why then kill?'--and shaking his head sorrowfully, he went on
+his way, walking slowly, with downcast eyes; he ascended the hill of
+the pagoda; I watched him as he went, without being able to move: at the
+moment the sun set, he was standing on the summit of the hill, his tall
+figure thrown out against the sky--and so he disappeared. Oh! it was
+he!" added the Indian with a shudder, after a long pause: "it was none
+but he."
+
+In this story the Indian had never varied, though he had often
+entertained his companions with the same mysterious adventure. This
+persistency on his part had the effect of shaking their incredulity, or
+at least of inducing them to seek some natural cause for this apparently
+superhuman event.
+
+"Perhaps," said Faringhea, after a moment's reflection, "the knot round
+the traveller's neck got jammed, and some breath was left him, the air
+may have penetrated the rushes with which we covered his grave, and so
+life have returned to him."
+
+"No, no," said the Indian, shaking his head, "this man is not of our
+race."
+
+"Explain."
+
+"Now I know it!"
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"Listen!" said the Indian, in a solemn voice; "the number of victims
+that the children of Bowanee have sacrificed since the commencement of
+ages, is nothing compared to the immense heap of dead and dying, whom
+this terrible traveller leaves behind him in his murderous march."
+
+"He?" cried the negro and Faringhea.
+
+"Yes, he!" repeated the Hindoo, with a convinced accent, that made its
+impression upon his companions. "Hear me and tremble!--When I met this
+traveller at the gates of Bombay, he came from Java, and was going
+towards the north, he said. The very next day, the town was a prey to
+the cholera, and we learned sometime after, that this plague had first
+broken out here, in Java."
+
+"That is true," said the negro.
+
+"Hear me still further!" resumed the other. "'I am going towards the
+north, to a country of eternal snow,' said the traveller to me.
+The cholera also went towards the north, passing through
+Muscat--Ispahan--Tauris--Tiflis--till it overwhelmed Siberia."
+
+"True," said Faringhea, becoming thoughtful:
+
+"And the cholera," resumed the Indian, "only travelled its five or six
+leagues a day--a man's tramp--never appeared in two places at once--but
+swept on slowly, steadily,--even as a man proceeds."
+
+At the mention of this strange coincidence, the Hindoo's companions
+looked at each other in amazement. After a silence of some minutes,
+the awe-struck negro said to the last speaker: "So you think that this
+man--"
+
+"I think that this man, whom we killed, restored to life by some
+infernal divinity, has been commissioned to bear this terrible scourge
+over the earth, and to scatter round his steps that death, from which he
+is himself secure. Remember!" added the Indian, with gloomy enthusiasm,
+"this awful wayfarer passed through Java--the cholera wasted Java. He
+passed through Bombay--the cholera wasted Bombay. He went towards the
+north--the cholera wasted the north."
+
+So saying, the Indian fell into a profound reverie. The negro and
+Faringhea were seized with gloomy astonishment.
+
+The Indian spoke the truth as to the mysterious march (still
+unexplained) of that fearful malady, which has never been known to
+travel more than five or six leagues a day, or to appear simultaneously
+in two spots. Nothing can be more curious, than to trace out, on the
+maps prepared at the period in question, the slow, progressive course of
+this travelling pestilence, which offers to the astonished eye all the
+capricious incidents of a tourist's journey. Passing this way rather
+than that--selecting provinces in a country--towns in a province--one
+quarter in a town--one street in a quarter--one house in a
+street--having its place of residence and repose, and then continuing
+its slow, mysterious, fear inspiring march.
+
+The words of the Hindoo, by drawing attention to these dreadful
+eccentricities, made a strong impression upon the minds of the negro and
+Faringhea--wild natures, brought by horrible doctrines to the monomania
+of murder.
+
+Yes--for this also is an established fact--there have been in India
+members of an abominable community, who killed without motive, without
+passion--killed for the sake of killing--for the pleasure of murder--to
+substitute death for life--to make of a living man a corpse, as they
+have themselves declared in one of their examinations.
+
+The mind loses itself in the attempt to penetrate the causes of these
+monstrous phenomena. By what incredible series of events, have men been
+induced to devote themselves to this priesthood of destruction? Without
+doubt, such a religion could only flourish in countries given up, like
+India, to the most atrocious slavery, and to the most merciless iniquity
+of man to man.
+
+Such a creed!--is it not the hate of exasperated humanity, wound up to
+its highest pitch by oppression?--May not this homicidal sect, whose
+origin is lost in the night of ages, have been perpetuated in these
+regions, as the only possible protest of slavery against despotism? May
+not an inscrutable wisdom have here made Phansegars, even as are made
+tigers and serpents?
+
+What is most remarkable in this awful sect, is the mysterious bond,
+which, uniting its members amongst themselves, separates them from all
+other men. They have laws and customs of their own, they support and
+help each other, but for them there is neither country nor family; they
+owe no allegiance save to a dark, invisible power, whose decrees they
+obey with blind submission, and in whose name they spread themselves
+abroad, to make corpses, according to their own savage expression.(6)
+
+For some moments the three Stranglers had maintained a profound silence.
+
+Outside the hut, the moon continued to throw great masses of white
+radiance, and tall bluish shadows, over the imposing fabric of the
+ruins; the stars sparkled in the heavens; from time to time, a faint
+breeze rustled through the thick and varnished leaves of the bananas and
+the palms.
+
+The pedestal of the gigantic statue, which, still entire, stood on the
+left side of the portico, rested upon large flagstones, half hidden with
+brambles. Suddenly, one of these stones appeared to fall in; and from
+the aperture, which thus formed itself without noise, a man, dressed
+in uniform, half protruded his body, looked carefully around him, and
+listened.
+
+Seeing the rays of the lamp, which lighted the interior of the hovel,
+tremble upon the tall grass, he turned round to make a signal, and
+soon, accompanied by two other soldiers, he ascended, with the greatest
+silence and precaution, the last steps of the subterranean staircase,
+and went gliding amongst the ruins. For a few moments, their moving
+shadows were thrown upon the moonlit ground; then they disappeared
+behind some fragments of broken wall.
+
+At the instant when the large stone resumed its place and level, the
+heads of many other soldiers might have been seen lying close in the
+excavation. The half-caste, the Indian, and the negro, still seated
+thoughtfully in the hut, did not perceive what was passing.
+
+(6) The following are some passages from the Count de Warren's very
+curious book, "British India in 1831:" "Besides the robbers, who kill
+for the sake of the booty they hope to find upon travellers, there is a
+class of assassins, forming an organized society, with chiefs of their
+own, a slang-language, a science, a free-masonry, and even a religion,
+which has its fanaticism and its devotion, its agents, emissaries,
+allies, its militant forces, and its passive adherents, who contribute
+their money to the good work. This is the community of the Thugs or
+Phansegars (deceivers or stranglers, from thugna, to deceive, and
+phansna, to strangle), a religious and economical society, which
+speculates with the human race by exterminating men; its origin is lost
+in the night of ages.
+
+"Until 1810 their existence was unknown, not only to the European
+conquerors, but even to the native governments. Between the years 1816
+and 1830, several of their bands were taken in the act, and punished:
+but until this last epoch, all the revelations made on the subject by
+officers of great experience, had appeared too monstrous to obtain the
+attention or belief of the public; they had been rejected and despised
+as the dreams of a heated imagination. And yet for many years, at the
+very least for half a century, this social wound had been frightfully
+on the increase, devouring the population from the Himalayas to Cape
+Comorin and from Cutch to Assam.
+
+"It was in the year 1830 that the revelations of a celebrated chief,
+whose life was spared on condition of his denouncing his accomplices,
+laid bare the whole system. The basis of the Thuggee Society is a
+religious belief--the worship of Bowanee, a gloomy divinity, who is only
+pleased with carnage, and detests above all things the human race. Her
+most agreeable sacrifices are human victims, and the more of these
+her disciple may have offered up in this world the more he will be
+recompensed in the next by all the delights of soul and sense, by women
+always beautiful, and joys eternally renewed. If the assassin meets the
+scaffold in his career, he dies with the enthusiasm of a martyr, because
+he expects his reward. To obey his divine mistress, he murders, without
+anger and without remorse, the old man, woman and child; whilst, to his
+fellow-religionists, he may be charitable, humane, generous, devoted,
+and may share all in common with them, because, like himself, they are
+the ministers and adopted children of Bowanee. The destruction of his
+fellow-creatures, not belonging to his community--the diminution of the
+human race--that is the primary object of his pursuit; it is not as a
+means of gain, for though plunder may be a frequent, and doubtless an
+agreeable accessory, it is only secondary in his estimation. Destruction
+is his end, his celestial mission, his calling; it is also a delicious
+passion, the most captivating of all sports--this hunting of men!--'You
+find great pleasure,' said one of those that were condemned, 'in
+tracking the wild beast to his den, in attacking the boar, the tiger,
+because there is danger to brave, energy and courage to display. Think
+how this attraction must be redoubled, when the contest is with man,
+when it is man that is to be destroyed. Instead of the single faculty
+of courage, all must be called into action--courage, cunning, foresight,
+eloquence, intrigue. What springs to put in motion! what plans to
+develop! To sport with all the passions, to touch the chords of love
+and friendship, and so draw the prey into one's net--that is a glorious
+chase--it is a delight, a rapture, I tell you!'
+
+"Whoever was in India in the years 1831 and 1832, must remember the
+stupor and affright, which the discovery of this vast infernal machine
+spread through all classes of society. A great number of magistrates and
+administrators of provinces refused to believe in it, and could not be
+brought to comprehend that such a system had so long preyed on the body
+politic, under their eyes as it were, silently, and without betraying
+itself."--See "British India in 183," by Count Edward de Warren, 2 vols.
+in 8vo. Paris, 1844.--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE AMBUSCADE
+
+The half-blood Faringhea, wishing doubtless to escape from the dark
+thoughts which the words of the Indian on the mysterious course of
+the Cholera had raised within him, abruptly changed the subject of
+conversation. His eye shone with lurid fire, and his countenance took an
+expression of savage enthusiasm, as he cried: "Bowanee will always watch
+over us, intrepid hunters of men! Courage, brothers, courage! The world
+is large; our prey is everywhere. The English may force us to quit
+India, three chiefs of the good work--but what matter? We leave there
+our brethren, secret, numerous, and terrible, as black scorpions, whose
+presence is only known by their mortal sting. Exiles will widen our
+domains. Brother, you shall have America!" said he to the Hindoo, with
+an inspired air. "Brother, you shall have Africa!" said he to the negro.
+"Brothers, I will take Europe! Wherever men are to be found, there must
+be oppressors and victims--wherever there are victims, there must be
+hearts swollen with hate--it is for us to inflame that hate with all the
+ardor of vengeance! It is for us, servants of Bowanee, to draw towards
+us, by seducing wiles, all whose zeal, courage, and audacity may be
+useful to the cause. Let us rival each other in devotion and sacrifices;
+let us lend each other strength, help, support! That all who are not
+with us may be our prey, let us stand alone in the midst of all, against
+all, and in spite of all. For us, there must be neither country nor
+family. Our family is composed of our brethren; our country is the
+world."
+
+This kind of savage eloquence made a deep impression on the negro
+and the Indian, over whom Faringhea generally exercised considerable
+influence, his intellectual powers being very superior to theirs, though
+they were themselves two of the most eminent chiefs of this bloody
+association. "Yes, you are right, brother!" cried the Indian, sharing
+the enthusiasm of Faringhea; "the world is ours. Even here, in Java, let
+us leave some trace of our passage. Before we depart, let us establish
+the good work in this island; it will increase quickly, for here also
+is great misery, and the Dutch are rapacious as the English. Brother,
+I have seen in the marshy rice-fields of this island, always fatal to
+those who cultivate them, men whom absolute want forced to the deadly
+task--they were livid as corpses--some of them worn out with sickness,
+fatigue, and hunger, fell--never to rise again. Brothers, the good work
+will prosper in this country!"
+
+"The other evening," said the half-caste, "I was on the banks of the
+lake, behind a rock; a young woman came there--a few rags hardly covered
+her lean and sun-scorched body--in her arms she held a little child,
+which she pressed weeping to her milkless breast. She kissed it three
+times, and said to it: 'You, at least, shall not be so unhappy as
+your father'--and she threw it into the lake. It uttered one wail, and
+disappeared. On this cry, the alligators, hidden amongst the reeds,
+leaped joyfully into the water. There are mothers here who kill their
+children out of pity.--Brothers, the good work will prosper in this
+country!"
+
+"This morning," said the negro, "whilst they tore the flesh of one of
+his black slaves with whips, a withered old merchant of Batavia left
+his country-house to come to the town. Lolling in his palanquin, he
+received, with languid indolence, the sad caresses of two of those
+girls, whom he had bought, to people his harem, from parents too poor to
+give them food. The palanquin, which held this little old man, and the
+girls, was carried by twelve young and robust men. There are here, you
+see, mothers who in their misery sell their own daughters--slaves
+that are scourged--men that carry other men, like beasts of
+burden.--Brothers, the good work will prosper in this country!"
+
+"Yes, in this country--and in every land of oppression, distress,
+corruption, and slavery."
+
+"Could we but induce Djalma to join us, as Mahal the Smuggler advised,"
+said the Indian, "our voyage to Java would doubly profit us; for we
+should then number among our band this brave and enterprising youth, who
+has so many motives to hate mankind."
+
+"He will soon be here; let us envenom his resentments."
+
+"Remind him of his father's death!"
+
+"Of the massacre of his people!"
+
+"His own captivity!"
+
+"Only let hatred inflame his heart, and he will be ours."
+
+The negro, who had remained for some time lost in thought, said
+suddenly: "Brothers, suppose Mahal the Smuggler were to betray us?"
+
+"He" cried the Hindoo, almost with indignation; "he gave us an asylum on
+board his bark; he secured our flight from the Continent; he is again
+to take us with him to Bombay, where we shall find vessels for America,
+Europe, Africa."
+
+"What interest would Mahal have to betray us?" said Faringhea. "Nothing
+could save him from the vengeance of the sons of Bowanee, and that he
+knows."
+
+"Well," said the black, "he promised to get Djalma to come hither this
+evening, and, once amongst us, he must needs be our own."
+
+"Was it not the Smuggler who told us to order the Malay to enter the
+ajoupa of Djalma, to surprise him during his sleep, and, instead of
+killing him as he might have done, to trace the name of Bowanee upon his
+arm? Djalma will thus learn to judge of the resolution, the cunning and
+obedience of our brethren, and he will understand what he has to hope or
+fear from such men. Be it through admiration or through terror, he must
+become one of us."
+
+"But if he refuses to join us, notwithstanding the reasons he has to
+hate mankind?"
+
+"Then--Bowanee will decide his fate," said Faringhea, with a gloomy
+look; "I have my plan."
+
+"But will the Malay succeed in surprising Djalma during his sleep?" said
+the negro.
+
+"There is none nobler, more agile, more dexterous, than the Malay,"
+said Faringhea. "He once had the daring to surprise in her den a black
+panther, as she suckled her cub. He killed the dam, and took away the
+young one, which he afterwards sold to some European ship's captain."
+
+"The Malay has succeeded!" exclaimed the Indian, listening to a singular
+kind of hoot, which sounded through the profound silence of the night
+and of the woods.
+
+"Yes, it is the scream of the vulture seizing its prey," said the negro,
+listening in his turn; "it is also the signal of our brethren, after
+they have seized their prey."
+
+In a few minutes, the Malay appeared at the door of the hut. He had
+wound around him a broad length of cotton, adorned with bright colored
+stripes.
+
+"Well," said the negro, anxiously; "have you succeeded?"
+
+"Djalma must bear all his life the mark of the good work," said the
+Malay, proudly. "To reach him, I was forced to offer up to Bowanee a man
+who crossed my path--I have left his body under the brambles, near the
+ajoupa. But Djalma is marked with the sign. Mahal the Smuggler was the
+first to know it."
+
+"And Djalma did not awake?" said the Indian, confounded by the Malay's
+adroitness.
+
+"Had he awoke," replied the other, calmly, "I should have been a dead
+man--as I was charged to spare his life."
+
+"Because his life may be more useful to us than his death," said the
+half-caste. Then, addressing the Malay, he added: "Brother, in risking
+life for the good work, you have done to-day what we did yesterday,
+what we may do again to-morrow. This time, you obey; another you will
+command."
+
+"We all belong to Bowanee," answered the Malay. "What is there yet to
+do?--I am ready." Whilst he thus spoke, his face was turned towards the
+door of the hut; on a sudden, he said in a low voice: "Here is Djalma.
+He approaches the cabin. Mahal has not deceived us."
+
+"He must not see me yet," said Faringhea, retiring to an obscure corner
+of the cabin, and hiding himself under a mat; "try to persuade him. If
+he resists--I have my project."
+
+Hardly had Faringhea disappeared, saying these words, when Djalma
+arrived at the door of the hovel. At sight of those three personages
+with their forbidding aspect, Djalma started in surprise. But ignorant
+that these men belonged to the Phansegars, and knowing that, in a
+country where there are no inns, travellers often pass the night under
+a tent, or beneath the shelter of some ruins, he continued to advance
+towards them. After the first moment, he perceived by the complexion and
+the dress of one of these men, that he was an Indian, and he accosted
+him in the Hindoo language: "I thought to have found here a European--a
+Frenchman--"
+
+"The Frenchman is not yet come," replied the Indian; "but he will not be
+long."
+
+Guessing by Djalma's question the means which Mahal had employed to
+draw him into the snare, the Indian hoped to gain time by prolonging his
+error.
+
+"You knew this Frenchman?" asked Djalma of the Phansegar.
+
+"He appointed us to meet here, as he did you," answered the Indian.
+
+"For what?" inquired Djalma, more and more astonished.
+
+"You will know when he arrives."
+
+"General Simon told you to be at this place?"
+
+"Yes, General Simon," replied the Indian.
+
+There was a moment's pause, during which Djalma sought in vain to
+explain to himself this mysterious adventure. "And who are you?" asked
+he, with a look of suspicion; for the gloomy silence of the Phansegar's
+two companions, who stared fixedly at each other, began to give him some
+uneasiness.
+
+"We are yours, if you will be ours," answered the Indian.
+
+"I have no need of you--nor you of me."
+
+"Who knows?"
+
+"I know it."
+
+"You are deceived. The English killed your father, a king; made you a
+captive; proscribed you, you have lost all your possessions."
+
+At this cruel reminder, the countenance of Djalma darkened. He started,
+and a bitter smile curled his lip. The Phansegar continued:
+
+"Your father was just and brave--beloved by his subjects--they called
+him 'Father of the Generous,' and he was well named. Will you leave his
+death unavenged? Will the hate, which gnaws at your heart, be without
+fruit?"
+
+"My father died with arms in his hand. I revenged his death on the
+English whom I killed in war. He, who has since been a father to me, and
+who fought also in the same cause, told me, that it would now be madness
+to attempt to recover my territory from the English. When they gave me
+my liberty, I swore never again to set foot in India--and I keep the
+oaths I make."
+
+"Those who despoiled you, who took you captive, who killed your
+father--were men. Are there not other men, on whom you can avenge
+yourself! Let your hate fall upon them!"
+
+"You, who speak thus of men, are not a man!"
+
+"I, and those who resemble me, are more than men. We are, to the rest of
+the human race, what the bold hunter is to the wild beasts, which they
+run down in the forest. Will you be, like us, more than a man? Will you
+glut surely, largely, safely--the hate which devours your heart, for all
+the evil done you?"
+
+"Your words become more and more obscure: I have no hatred in my heart,"
+said Djalma. "When an enemy is worthy of me, I fight with him; when he
+is unworthy, I despise him. So that I have no hate--either for brave men
+or cowards."
+
+"Treachery!" cried the negro on a sudden, pointing with rapid gesture to
+the door, for Djalma and the Indian had now withdrawn a little from it,
+and were standing in one corner of the hovel.
+
+At the shout of the negro, Faringhea, who had not been perceived by
+Djalma, threw off abruptly the mat which covered him, drew his crease,
+started up like a tiger, and with one bound was out of the cabin. Then,
+seeing a body of soldiers advancing cautiously in a circle, he dealt one
+of them a mortal stroke, threw down two others, and disappeared in
+the midst of the ruins. All this passed so instantaneously, that, when
+Djalma turned round, to ascertain the cause of the negro's cry of alarm,
+Faringhea had already disappeared.
+
+The muskets of several soldiers, crowding to the door, were immediately
+pointed at Djalma and the three Stranglers, whilst others went in
+pursuit of Faringhea. The negro, the Malay, and the Indian, seeing the
+impossibility of resistance, exchanged a few rapid words, and offered
+their hands to the cords, with which some of the soldiers had provided
+themselves.
+
+The Dutch captain, who commanded the squad, entered the cabin at this
+moment. "And this other one?" said he, pointing out Djalma to the
+soldiers, who were occupied in binding the three Phansegars.
+
+"Each in his turn, captain!" said an old sergeant. "We come to him
+next."
+
+Djalma had remained petrified with surprise, not understanding what
+was passing round him; but, when he saw the sergeant and two soldiers
+approach with ropes to bind him, he repulsed them with violent
+indignation, and rushed towards the door where stood the officer. The
+soldiers, who had supposed that Djalma would submit to his fate with the
+same impassibility as his companions, were astounded by this resistance,
+and recoiled some paces, being struck in spite of themselves, with the
+noble and dignified air of the son of Kadja-sing.
+
+"Why would you bind me like these men?" cried Djalma, addressing himself
+in Hindostanee to the officer, who understood that language from his
+long service in the Dutch colonies.
+
+"Why would we bind you, wretch?--because you form part of this band of
+assassins. What?" added the officer in Dutch, speaking to the soldiers,
+"are you afraid of him?--Tie the cord tight about his wrists; there will
+soon be another about his neck."
+
+"You are mistaken," said Djalma, with a dignity and calmness which
+astonished the officer; "I have hardly been in this place a quarter of
+an hour--I do not know these men. I came here to meet a Frenchman."
+
+"Not a Phansegar like them?--Who will believe the falsehood?"
+
+"Them!" cried Djalma, with so natural a movement and expression of
+horror, that with a sign the officer stopped the soldiers, who were
+again advancing to bind the son of Kadja-sing; "these men form part
+of that horrible band of murderers! and you accuse me of being their
+accomplice!--Oh, in this case, sir! I am perfectly at ease," said the
+young man, with a smile of disdain.
+
+"It will not be sufficient to say that you are tranquil," replied the
+officer; "thanks to their confessions, we now know by what mysterious
+signs to recognize the Thugs."
+
+"I repeat, sir, that I hold these murderers in the greatest horror, and
+that I came here--"
+
+The negro, interrupting Djalma, said to the officer with a ferocious
+joy: "You have hit it; the sons of the good work do know each other by
+marks tattooed on their skin. For us, the hour has come--we give our
+necks to the cord. Often enough have we twined it round the necks of
+those who served not with us the good work. Now, look at our arms, and
+look at the arms of this youth!"
+
+The officer, misinterpreting the words of the negro, said to Djalma: "It
+is quite clear, that if, as this negro tells us, you do not bear on
+your arm the mysterious symbol--(we are going to assure ourselves of
+the fact), and if you can explain your presence here in a satisfactory
+manner, you may be at liberty within two hours."
+
+"You do not understand me," said the negro to the officer; "Prince
+Djalma is one of us, for he bears on his left arm the name of Bowanee."
+
+"Yes! he is like us, a son of Kale!" added the Malay.
+
+"He is like us, a Phansegar," said the Indian.
+
+The three men, irritated at the horror which Djalma had manifested on
+learning that they were Phansegars, took a savage pride in making
+it believed that the son of Kadja-sing belonged to their frightful
+association.
+
+"What have you to answer?" said the officer to Djalma. The latter again
+gave a look of disdainful pity, raised with his right hand his long,
+wide left sleeve, and displayed his naked arm.
+
+"What audacity!" cried the officer, for on the inner part of the fore
+arm, a little below the bend, the name of the Bowanee, in bright red
+Hindoo characters, was distinctly visible. The officer ran to the Malay,
+and uncovered his arm; he saw the same word, the same signs. Not
+yet satisfied, he assured himself that the negro and the Indian were
+likewise so marked.
+
+"Wretch!" cried he, turning furiously towards Djalma; "you inspire even
+more horror than your accomplices. Bind him like a cowardly assassin,"
+added he to the soldiers; "like a cowardly assassin, who lies upon the
+brink of the grave, for his execution will not be long delayed."
+
+Struck with stupor, Djalma, who for some moments had kept his eye
+riveted on the fatal mark, was unable to pronounce a word, or make the
+least movement: his powers of thought seemed to fail him, in presence of
+this incomprehensible fact.
+
+"Would you dare deny this sign?" said the officer to him, with
+indignation.
+
+"I cannot deny what I see--what is," said Djalma, quite overcome.
+
+"It is lucky that you confess at last," replied the officer. "Soldiers,
+keep watch over him and his accomplices--you answer for them."
+
+Almost believing himself the sport of some wild dream. Djalma offered no
+resistance, but allowed himself to be bound and removed with mechanical
+passiveness. The officer, with part of his soldiers, hoped still to
+discover Faringhea amongst the ruins; but his search was vain, and,
+after spending an hour in fruitless endeavors, he set out for Batavia,
+where the escort of the prisoners had arrived before him.
+
+Some hours after these events, M. Joshua van Dael thus finished his long
+despatch, addressed to M. Rodin, of Paris:
+
+"Circumstances were such, that I could not act otherwise; and, taking
+all into consideration, it is a very small evil for a great good. Three
+murderers are delivered over to justice, and the temporary arrest of
+Djalma will only serve to make his innocence shine forth with redoubled
+luster.
+
+"Already this morning I went to the governor, to protest in favor of our
+young prince. 'As it was through me,' I said, 'that those three great
+criminals fell into the hands of the authorities, let them at least
+show me some gratitude, by doing everything to render clear as day the
+innocence of Prince Djalma, so interesting by reason of his misfortunes
+and noble qualities. Most certainly,' I added, 'when I came yesterday to
+inform the governor, that the Phansegars would be found assembled in
+the ruins of Tchandi, I was far from anticipating that any one would
+confound with those wretches the adopted son of General Simon, an
+excellent man, with whom I have had for some time the most honorable
+relations. We must, then, at any cost, discover the inconceivable
+mystery that has placed Djalma in this dangerous position;' and, I
+continued, 'so convinced am I of his innocence, that, for his own sake,
+I would not ask for any favor on his behalf. He will have sufficient
+courage and dignity to wait patiently in prison for the day of justice.'
+In all this, you see, I spoke nothing but the truth, and had not to
+reproach myself with the least deception, for nobody in the world is
+more convinced than I am of Djalma's innocence.
+
+"The governor answered me as I expected, that morally he felt as certain
+as I did of the innocence of the young prince, and would treat him with
+all possible consideration; but that it was necessary for justice to
+have its course, because it would be the only way of demonstrating
+the falsehood of the accusation, and discovering by what unaccountable
+fatality that mysterious sign was tattooed upon Djalma's arm.
+
+"Mahal the Smuggler, who alone could enlighten justice on this subject,
+will in another hour have quitted Batavia, to go on board the 'Ruyter,'
+which will take him to Egypt; for he has a note from me to the captain,
+to certify that he is the person for whom I engaged and paid the
+passage. At the same time, he will be the bearer of this long despatch,
+for the 'Ruyter' is to sail in an hour, and the last letter-bag for
+Europe was made up yesterday evening. But I wished to see the governor
+this morning, before closing the present.
+
+"Thus, then, is Prince Djalma enforced detained for a month, and, this
+opportunity of the 'Ruyter' once lost, it is materially impossible that
+the young Indian can be in France by the 13th of next February. You see,
+therefore, that, even as you ordered, so have I acted according to the
+means at my disposal--considering only the end which justifies them--for
+you tell me a great interest of the society is concerned.
+
+"In your hands, I have been what we all ought to be in the hands of our
+superiors--a mere instrument: since, for the greater glory of God, we
+become corpses with regard to the will.(7) Men may deny our unity
+and power, and the times appear opposed to us; but circumstances only
+change; we are ever the same.
+
+"Obedience and courage, secrecy and patience, craft and audacity, union
+and devotion--these become us, who have the world for our country, our
+brethren for family, Rome for our Queen!
+
+                       "J. V."
+
+About ten o'clock in the morning, Mahal the Smuggler set out with this
+despatch (sealed) in his possession, to board the "Ruyter." An hour
+later, the dead body of this same Mahal, strangled by Thuggee, lay
+concealed beneath some reeds on the edge of a desert strand, whither he
+had gone to take boat to join the vessel.
+
+When at a subsequent period, after the departure of the steamship,
+they found the corpse of the smuggler, M. Joshua sought in vain for the
+voluminous packet, which he had entrusted to his care. Neither was there
+any trace of the note which Mahal was to have delivered to the captain
+of the "Ruyter," in order to be received as passenger.
+
+Finally, the searches and bushwhacking ordered throughout the country
+for the purpose of discovering Faringhea, were of no avail. The
+dangerous chief of the Stranglers was never seen again in Java.
+
+(7) It is known that the doctrine of passive and absolute obedience,
+the main-spring of the Society of Jesus, is summed up in those terrible
+words of the dying Loyola: "Every member of the Order shall be, in the
+hands of his superiors, even as a corpse (Perinde ac Cadaver)."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. M. RODIN.
+
+Three months have elapsed since Djalma was thrown into Batavia Prison
+accused of belonging to the murderous gang of Megpunnas. The following
+scene takes place in France, at the commencement of the month of
+February, 1832, in Cardoville Manor House, an old feudal habitation
+standing upon the tall cliffs of Picardy, not far from Saint Valery,
+a dangerous coast on which almost every year many ships are totally
+wrecked, being driven on shore by the northwesters, which render the
+navigation of the Channel so perilous.
+
+From the interior of the Castle is heard the howling of a violent
+tempest, which has arisen during the night; a frequent formidable
+noise, like the discharge of artillery, thunders in the distance, and
+is repeated by the echoes of the shore; it is the sea breaking with fury
+against the high rocks which are overlooked by the ancient Manor House.
+
+It is about seven o'clock in the morning. Daylight is not yet visible
+through the windows of a large room situated on the ground-floor. In
+this apartment, in which a lamp is burning, a woman of about sixty years
+of age, with a simple and honest countenance, dressed as a rich
+farmer's wife of Picardy, is already occupied with her needle-work,
+notwithstanding the early hour. Close by, the husband of this woman,
+about the same age as herself, is seated at a large table, sorting and
+putting up in bags divers samples of wheat and oats. The face of this
+white-haired man is intelligent and open, announcing good sense
+and honesty, enlivened by a touch of rustic humor; he wears a
+shooting-jacket of green cloth, and long gaiters of tan-colored leather,
+which half conceal his black velveteen breeches.
+
+The terrible storm which rages without renders still more agreeable
+the picture of this peaceful interior. A rousing fire burns in a broad
+chimney-place faced with white marble, and throws its joyous light on
+the carefully polished floor; nothing can be more cheerful than the old
+fashioned chintz hangings and curtains with red Chinese figures upon a
+white ground, and the panels over the door painted with pastoral scenes
+in the style of Watteau. A clock of Sevres china, and rosewood furniture
+inlaid with green--quaint and portly furniture, twisted into all sorts
+of grotesque shapes--complete the decorations of this apartment.
+
+Out-doors, the gale continued to howl furiously, and sometimes a gust
+of wind would rush down the chimney, or shake the fastenings of the
+windows. The man who was occupied in sorting the samples of grain was M.
+Dupont, bailiff of Cardoville manor.
+
+"Holy Virgin!" said his wife; "what dreadful weather, my dear! This
+M. Rodin, who is to come here this morning, as the Princess de Saint
+Dizier's steward announced to us, picked out a very bad day for it."
+
+"Why, in truth, I have rarely heard such a hurricane. If M. Rodin has
+never seen the sea in its fury, he may feast his eyes to-day with the
+sight."
+
+"What can it be that brings this M. Rodin, my dear?"
+
+"Faith! I know nothing about it. The steward tells me in his letter to
+show M. Rodin the greatest attention, and to obey him as if he were my
+master. It will be for him to explain himself, and for me to execute his
+orders, since he comes on the part of the princess."
+
+"By rights he should come from Mademoiselle Adrienne, as the land
+belongs to her since the death of the duke her father."
+
+"Yes; but the princess being aunt to the young lady, her steward manages
+Mademoiselle Adrienne's affairs--so whether one or the other, it amounts
+to the same thing."
+
+"May be M. Rodin means to buy the estate. Though, to be sure, that
+stout lady who came from Paris last week on purpose to see the chateau
+appeared to have a great wish for it."
+
+At these words the bailiff began to laugh with a sly look.
+
+"What is there to laugh at, Dupont?" asked his wife, a very good
+creature, but not famous for intelligence or penetration.
+
+"I laugh," answered Dupont, "to think of the face and figure of that
+enormous woman: with such a look, who the devil would call themselves
+Madame de la Sainte-Colombe--Mrs. Holy Dove? A pretty saint, and a
+pretty dove, truly! She is round as a hogshead, with the voice of a
+town-crier; has gray moustachios like an old grenadier, and without
+her knowing it, I heard her say to her servant: 'Stir your stumps, my
+hearty!'--and yet she calls herself Sainte-Colombe!"
+
+"How hard on her you are, Dupont; a body don't choose one's name. And,
+if she has a beard, it is not the lady's fault."
+
+"No--but it is her fault to call herself Sainte-Colombe. Do you imagine
+it her true name? Ah, my poor Catherine, you are yet very green in some
+things."
+
+"While you, my poor Dupont, are well read in slander! This lady seems
+very respectable. The first thing she asked for on arriving was the
+chapel of the Castle, of which she had heard speak. She even said that
+she would make some embellishments in it; and, when I told her we had
+no church in this little place, she appeared quite vexed not to have a
+curate in the village."
+
+"Oh, to be sure! that's the first thought of your upstarts--to play the
+great lady of the parish, like your titled people."
+
+"Madame de la Sainte-Colombe need not play the great lady, because she
+is one."
+
+"She! a great lady? Oh, lor'!"
+
+"Yes--only see how she was dressed, in scarlet gown, and violet gloves
+like a bishop's; and, when she took off her bonnet, she had a diamond
+band round her head-dress of false, light hair, and diamond ear-drops
+as large as my thumb, and diamond rings on every finger! None of your
+tuppenny beauties would wear so many diamonds in the middle of the day."
+
+"You are a pretty judge!"
+
+"That is not all."
+
+"Do you mean to say there's more?"
+
+"She talked of nothing but dukes, and marquises, and counts, and very
+rich gentlemen, who visit at her house, and are her most intimate
+friends; and then, when she saw the summer house in the park, half-burnt
+by the Prussians, which our late master never rebuilt, she asked, 'What
+are those ruins there?' and I answered: 'Madame, it was in the time of
+the Allies that the pavilion was burnt.'--'Oh, my clear,' cried she;
+'our allies, good, dear allies! they and the Restoration began my
+fortune!' So you see, Dupont, I said to myself directly: 'She was no
+doubt one of the noble women who fled abroad--'"
+
+"Madame de la Sainte-Colombe!" cried the bailiff, laughing heartily.
+"Oh, my poor, poor wife!"
+
+"Oh, it is all very well; but because you have been three years at
+Paris, don't think yourself a conjurer!"
+
+"Catherine, let's drop it: you will make me say some folly, and there
+are certain things which dear, good creatures like you need never know."
+
+"I cannot tell what you are driving at, only try to be less
+slanderous--for, after all, should Madame de la Sainte-Colombe buy the
+estate, will you be sorry to remain as her bailiff, eh?"
+
+"Not I--for we are getting old, my good Catherine; we have lived here
+twenty years, and we have been too honest to provide for our old days
+by pilfering--and truly, at our age, it would be hard to seek another
+place, which perhaps we should not find. What I regret is, that
+Mademoiselle Adrienne should not keep the land; it seems that she wished
+to sell it, against the will of the princess."
+
+"Good gracious, Dupont! is it not very extraordinary that Mademoiselle
+Adrienne should have the disposal of her large fortune so early in
+life?"
+
+"Faith! simple enough. Our young lady, having no father or mother, is
+mistress of her property, besides having a famous little will of her
+own. Dost remember, ten years ago, when the count brought her down here
+one summer?--what an imp of mischief! and then what eyes! eh?--how they
+sparkled, even then!"
+
+"It is true that Mademoiselle Adrienne had in her look--an expression--a
+very uncommon expression for her age."
+
+"If she has kept what her witching, luring face promised, she must be
+very pretty by this time, notwithstanding the peculiar color of her
+hair--for, between ourselves, if she had been a tradesman's daughter,
+instead of a young lady of high birth, they would have called it red."
+
+"There again! more slander."
+
+"What! against Mademoiselle Adrienne? Heaven forbid--I always thought
+that she would be as good as pretty, and it is not speaking ill of her
+to say she has red hair. On the contrary, it always appears to me so
+fine, so bright, so sunny, and to suit so well her snowy complexion and
+black eyes, that in truth I would not have had it other than it was;
+and I am sure, that now this very color of her hair, which would be
+a blemish in any one else, must only add to the charm of Mademoiselle
+Adrienne's face. She must have such a sweet vixen look!"
+
+"Oh! to be candid, she really was a vixen--always running about the
+park, aggravating her governess, climbing the trees--in fact, playing
+all manner of naughty tricks."
+
+"I grant you, Mademoiselle Adrienne was a chip of the old block; but
+then what wit, what engaging ways, and above all, what a good heart!"
+
+"Yes--that she certainly had. Once I remember she gave her shawl and
+her new merino frock to a poor little beggar girl, and came back to the
+house in her petticoat, and bare arms."
+
+"Oh, an excellent heart--but headstrong--terribly headstrong!"
+
+"Yes--that she was; and 'tis likely to finish badly, for it seems that
+she does things at Paris--oh! such things--"
+
+"What things?"
+
+"Oh, my dear; I can hardly venture--"
+
+"Fell, but what are they?"
+
+"Why," said the worthy dame, with a sort of embarrassment and confusion,
+which showed how much she was shocked by such enormities, "they say,
+that Mademoiselle Adrienne never sets foot in a church, but lives in a
+kind of heathen temple in her aunt's garden, where she has masked women
+to dress her up like a goddess, and scratches them very often, because
+she gets tipsy--without mentioning, that every night she plays on a
+hunting horn of massive gold--all which causes the utmost grief and
+despair to her poor aunt the princess."
+
+Here the bailiff burst into a fit of laughter, which interrupted his
+wife.
+
+"Now tell me," said he, when this first access of hilarity was over,
+"where did you get these fine stories about Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"From Rene's wife, who went to Paris to look for a child to nurse; she
+called at Saint-Dizier House, to see Madame Grivois, her godmother.--Now
+Madame Grivois is first bedchamber woman to the princess--and she it
+was who told her all this--and surely she ought to know, being in the
+house."
+
+"Yes, a fine piece of goods that Grivois! once she was a regular bad
+'un, but now she professes to be as over-nice as her mistress; like
+master like man, they say. The princess herself, who is now so stiff and
+starched, knew how to carry on a lively game in her time. Fifteen years
+ago, she was no such prude: do you remember that handsome colonel of
+hussars, who was in garrison at Abbeville? an exiled noble who had
+served in Russia, whom the Bourbons gave a regiment on the Restoration?"
+
+"Yes, yes--I remember him; but you are really too backbiting."
+
+"Not a bit--I only speak the truth. The colonel spent his whole time
+here, and every one said he was very warm with this same princess, who
+is now such a saint. Oh! those were the jolly times. Every evening, some
+new entertainment at the chateau. What a fellow that colonel was, to set
+things going; how well he could act a play!--I remember--"
+
+The bailiff was unable to proceed. A stout maid-servant, wearing the
+costume and cap of Picardy, entered in haste, and thus addressed her
+mistress: "Madame, there is a person here that wants to speak to master;
+he has come in the postmaster's calash from Saint-Valery, and he says
+that he is M. Rodin."
+
+"M. Rodin?" said the bailiff rising. "Show him in directly!"
+
+A moment after, M. Rodin made his appearance. According to his custom,
+he was dressed even more than plainly. With an air of great humility,
+he saluted the bailiff and his wife, and at a sign from her husband,
+the latter withdrew. The cadaverous countenance of M. Rodin, his almost
+invisible lips, his little reptile eyes, half concealed by their flabby
+lids, and the sordid style of his dress, rendered his general aspect
+far from prepossessing; yet this man knew how, when it was necessary,
+to affect, with diabolical art, so much sincerity and good-nature--his
+words were so affectionate and subtly penetrating--that the disagreeable
+feeling of repugnance, which the first sight of him generally inspired,
+wore off little by little, and he almost always finished by involving
+his dupe or victim in the tortuous windings of an eloquence as pliant
+as it was honeyed and perfidious; for ugliness and evil have their
+fascination, as well as what is good and fair.
+
+The honest bailiff looked at this man with surprise, when he thought
+of the pressing recommendation of the steward of the Princess de Saint
+Dizier; he had expected to see quite another sort of personage, and,
+hardly able to dissemble his astonishment, he said to him: "Is it to M.
+Rodin that I have the honor to speak?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and here is another letter from the steward of the Princess
+de Saint-Dizier."
+
+"Pray, sir, draw near the fire, whilst I just see what is in this
+letter. The weather is so bad," continued the bailiff, obligingly, "may
+I not offer you some refreshment?"
+
+"A thousand thanks, my dear sir; I am off again in an hour."
+
+Whilst M. Dupont read, M. Rodin threw inquisitive glances round the
+chamber; like a man of skill and experience, he had frequently drawn
+just and useful inductions from those little appearances, which,
+revealing a taste or habit, give at the same time some notion of a
+character; on this occasion, however, his curiosity was at fault.
+
+"Very good, sir," said the bailiff, when he had finished reading; "the
+steward renews his recommendation, and tells me to attend implicitly to
+your commands."
+
+"Well, sir, they will amount to very little, and I shall not trouble you
+long."
+
+"It will be no trouble, but an honor."
+
+"Nay, I know how much your time must be occupied, for, as soon as one
+enters this chateau, one is struck with the good order and perfect
+keeping of everything in it--which proves, my dear sir, what excellent
+care you take of it."
+
+"Oh, sir, you flatter me."
+
+"Flatter you?--a poor old man like myself has something else to think
+of. But to come to business: there is a room here which is called the
+Green Chamber?"
+
+"Yes, sir; the room which the late Count-Duke de Cardoville used for a
+study."
+
+"You will have the goodness to take me there."
+
+"Unfortunately, it is not in my power to do so. After the death of the
+Count-Duke, and when the seals were removed, a number of papers were
+shut up in a cabinet in that room, and the lawyers took the keys with
+them to Paris."
+
+"Here are those keys," said M. Rodin, showing to the bailiff a large and
+a small key tied together.
+
+"Oh, sir! that is different. You come to look for papers?"
+
+"Yes--for certain papers--and also far a small mahogany casket, with
+silver clasps--do you happen to know it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I have often seen it on the count's writing-table. It must be
+in the large, lacquered cabinet, of which you have the key."
+
+"You will conduct me to this chamber, as authorized by the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier?"
+
+"Yes, sir; the princess continues in good health?"
+
+"Perfectly so. She lives altogether above worldly things."
+
+"And Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"Alas, my dear sir!" said M. Rodin, with a sigh of deep contrition and
+grief.
+
+"Good heaven, sir! has any calamity happened to Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"In what sense do you mean it?"
+
+"Is she ill?"
+
+"No, no--she is, unfortunately, as well as she is beautiful."
+
+"Unfortunately!" cried the bailiff, in surprise.
+
+"Alas, yes! for when beauty, youth, and health are joined to an evil
+spirit of revolt and perversity--to a character which certainly has not
+its equal upon earth--it would be far better to be deprived of those
+dangerous advantages, which only become so many causes of perdition. But
+I conjure you, my dear sir, let us talk of something else: this subject
+is too painful," said M. Rodin, with a voice of deep emotion, lifting
+the tip of his little finger to the corner of his right eye, as if to
+stop a rising tear.
+
+The bailiff did not see the tear, but he saw the gesture, and he was
+struck with the change in M. Rodin's voice. He answered him, therefore,
+with much sympathy: "Pardon my indiscretion, sir; I really did not
+know--"
+
+"It is I who should ask pardon for this involuntary display of
+feeling--tears are so rare with old men--but if you had seen, as I have,
+the despair of that excellent princess, whose only fault has been too
+much kindness, too much weakness, with regard to her niece--by which she
+has encouraged her--but, once more, let us talk of something else, my
+dear sir!"
+
+After a moment's pause, during which M. Rodin seemed to recover from his
+emotion, he said to Dupont: "One part of my mission, my dear sir--that
+which relates to the Green Chamber--I have now told you; but there
+is yet another. Before coming to it, however, I must remind you of a
+circumstance you have perhaps forgotten--namely, that some fifteen or
+sixteen years ago, the Marquis d'Aigrigny, then colonel of the hussars
+in garrison at Abbeville, spent some time in this house."
+
+"Oh, sir! what a dashing officer was there! It was only just now, that
+I was talking about him to my wife. He was the life of the house!--how
+well he could perform plays--particularly the character of a scapegrace.
+In the Two Edmonds, for instance, he would make you die with laughing,
+in that part of a drunken soldier--and then, with what a charming voice
+he sang Joconde, sir--better than they could sing it at Paris!"
+
+Rodin, having listened complacently to the bailiff, said to him:
+"You doubtless know that, after a fierce duel he had with a furious
+Bonapartist, one General Simon, the Marquis d'Aigrigny (whose private
+secretary I have now the honor to be) left the world for the church."
+
+"No, sir! is it possible? That fine officer!"
+
+"That fine officer--brave, noble, rich, esteemed, and
+flattered--abandoned all those advantages for the sorry black gown; and,
+notwithstanding his name, position, high connections, his reputation as
+a great preacher, he is still what he was fourteen years ago--a plain
+abbe--whilst so many, who have neither his merit nor his virtues, are
+archbishops and cardinals."
+
+M. Rodin expressed himself with so much goodness, with such an air of
+conviction, and the facts he cited appeared to be so incontestable,
+that M. Dupont could not help exclaiming: "Well, sir, that is splendid
+conduct!"
+
+"Splendid? Oh, no!" said M. Rodin, with an inimitable expression of
+simplicity; "it is quite a matter of course when one has a heart like
+M. d'Aigrigny's. But amongst all his good qualities, he has particularly
+that of never forgetting worthy people--people of integrity, honor,
+conscience--and therefore, my dear M. Dupont, he has not forgotten you."
+
+"What, the most noble marquis deigns to remember--"
+
+"Three days ago, I received a letter from him, in which he mentions your
+name."
+
+"Is he then at Paris?"
+
+"He will be there soon, if not there now. He went to Italy about three
+months ago, and, during his absence, he received a very sad piece of
+news--the death of his mother, who was passing the autumn on one of the
+estates of the Princess de Saint-Dizier."
+
+"Oh, indeed! I was not aware of it."
+
+"Yes, it was a cruel grief to him; but we must all resign ourselves to
+the will of Providence!"
+
+"And with regard to what subject did the marquis do me the honor to
+mention my name?"
+
+"I am going to tell you. First of all, you must know that this house
+is sold. The bill of sale was signed the day before my departure from
+Paris."
+
+"Oh, sir! that renews all my uneasiness."
+
+"Pray, why?"
+
+"I am afraid that the new proprietors may not choose to keep me as their
+bailiff."
+
+"Now see what a lucky chance! It is just on that subject that I am going
+to speak to you."
+
+"Is it possible?"
+
+"Certainly. Knowing the interest which the marquis feels for you, I am
+particularly desirous that you should keep this place, and I will do all
+in my power to serve you, if--"
+
+"Ah, sir!" cried Dupont, interrupting Rodin; "what gratitude do I not
+owe you! It is Heaven that sends you to me!'
+
+"Now, my dear sir, you flatter me in your turn; but I ought to tell you,
+that I'm obliged to annex a small condition to my support."
+
+"Oh, by all means! Only name it, sir--name it!"
+
+"The person who is about to inhabit this mansion, is an old lady in
+every way worthy of veneration; Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is the name
+of this respectable--"
+
+"What, sir?" said the bailiff, interrupting Rodin; "Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe the lady who has bought us out?"
+
+"Do you know her?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she came last week to see the estate. My wife persists that
+she is a great lady; but--between ourselves--judging by certain words
+that I heard her speak--"
+
+"You are full of penetration, my dear M. Dupont. Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe is far from being a great lady. I believe she was neither more
+nor less than a milliner, under one of the wooden porticoes of the
+Palais Royal. You see, that I deal openly with you."
+
+"And she boasted of all the noblemen, French and foreign, who used to
+visit her!"
+
+"No doubt, they came to buy bonnets for their wives! However, the fact
+is, that, having gained a large fortune and, after being in youth and
+middle age--indifferent--alas! more than indifferent to the salvation
+of her soul--Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is now in a likely way
+to experience grace--which renders her, as I told you, worthy
+of veneration, because nothing is so respectable as a sincere
+repentance--always providing it to be lasting. Now to make the good work
+sure and effectual, we shall need your assistance, my dear M. Dupont."
+
+"Mine, sir! what can I do in it?"
+
+"A great deal; and I will explain to you how. There is no church in this
+village, which stands at an equal distance from either of two parishes.
+Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, wishing to make choice of one of the two
+clergymen, will naturally apply to you and Madame Dupont, who have long
+lived in these parts, for information respecting them."
+
+"Oh! in that case the choice will soon be made. The incumbent of
+Danicourt is one of the best of men."
+
+"Now that is precisely what you must not say to Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"You must, on the contrary, much praise, without ceasing, the curate
+of Roiville, the other parish, so as to decide this good lady to trust
+herself to his care."
+
+"And why, sir, to him rather than to the other?"
+
+"Why?--because, if you and Madame Dupont succeed in persuading Madame de
+la Sainte-Colombe to make the choice I wish, you will be certain to keep
+your place as bailiff. I give you my word of it, and what I promise I
+perform."
+
+"I do not doubt, sir, that you have this power," said Dupont, convinced
+by Rodin's manner, and the authority of his words; "but I should like to
+know--"
+
+"One word more," said Rodin, interrupting him; "I will deal openly with
+you, and tell you why I insist on the preference which I beg you to
+support. I should be grieved if you saw in all this the shadow of an
+intrigue. It is only for the purpose of doing a good action. The
+curate of Roiville, for whom I ask your influence, is a man for whom M.
+d'Aigrigny feels a deep interest. Though very poor, he has to support
+an aged mother. Now, if he had the spiritual care of Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe, he would do more good than any one else, because he is full
+of zeal and patience; and then it is clear he would reap some little
+advantages, by which his old mother might profit--there you see is the
+secret of this mighty scheme. When I knew that this lady was disposed to
+buy an estate in the neighborhood of our friend's parish, I wrote about
+it to the marquis; and he, remembering you, desired me to ask you
+to render him this small service, which, as you see, will not remain
+without a recompense. For I tell you once more, and I will prove it,
+that I have the power to keep you in your place as bailiff."
+
+"Well, sir," replied Dupont, after a moment's reflection, "you are so
+frank and obliging, that I will imitate your sincerity. In the same
+degree that the curate of Danicourt is respected and loved in this
+country, the curate of Roiville, whom you wish me to prefer to him, is
+dreaded for his intolerance--and, moreover--"
+
+"Well, and what more?"
+
+"Why, then, they say--"
+
+"Come, what do they say?"
+
+"They say--he is a Jesuit."
+
+Upon these words, M. Rodin burst into so hearty a laugh that the bailiff
+was quite struck dumb with amazement--for the countenance of M. Rodin
+took a singular expression when he laughed. "A Jesuit!" he repeated,
+with redoubled hilarity; "a Jesuit!--Now really, my dear M. Dupont, for
+a man of sense, experience, and intelligence, how can you believe such
+idle stories?--A Jesuit--are there such people as Jesuits?--in our time,
+above all, can you believe such romance of the Jacobins, hobgoblins of
+the old freedom lovers?--Come, come; I wager, you have read about them
+in the Constitutionnel!"
+
+"And yet, sir, they say--"
+
+"Good heavens! what will they not say?--But wise men, prudent men like
+you, do not meddle with what is said--they manage their own little
+matters, without doing injury to any one, and they never sacrifice, for
+the sake of nonsense, a good place, which secures them a comfortable
+provision for the rest of their days. I tell you frankly, however much I
+may regret it, that should you not succeed in getting the preference for
+my man, you will not remain bailiff here.
+
+"But, sir," said poor Dupont, "it will not be my fault, if this lady,
+hearing a great deal in praise of the other curate, should prefer him to
+your friend."
+
+"Ah! but if, on the other hand, persons who have long lived in the
+neighborhood--persons worthy of confidence, whom she will see every
+day--tell Madame de la Sainte-Colombe a great deal of good of my friend,
+and a great deal of harm of the other curate, she will prefer the
+former, and you will continue bailiff."
+
+"But, sir--that would be calumny!" cried Dupont.
+
+"Pshaw, my dear M. Dupont!" said Rodin, with an air of sorrowful and
+affectionate reproach, "how can you think me capable of giving you evil
+counsel?--I was only making a supposition. You wish to remain bailiff
+on this estate. I offer you the certainty of doing so--it is for you to
+consider and decide."
+
+"But, sir--"
+
+"One word more--or rather one more condition--as important as the other.
+Unfortunately, we have seen clergymen take advantage of the age and
+weakness of their penitents, unfairly to benefit either themselves or
+others: I believe our protege incapable of any such baseness--but, in
+order to discharge my responsibility--and yours also, as you will have
+contributed to his appointment--I must request that you will write to me
+twice a week, giving the most exact detail of all that you have remarked
+in the character, habits, connections, pursuits, of Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe--for the influence of a confessor, you see, reveals itself in
+the whole conduct of life, and I should wish to be fully edified by the
+proceedings of my friend, without his being aware of it--or, if anything
+blameable were to strike you, I should be immediately informed of it by
+this weekly correspondence."
+
+"But, sir--that would be to act as a spy?" exclaimed the unfortunate
+bailiff.
+
+"Now, my dear M. Dupont! how can you thus brand the sweetest, most
+wholesome of human desires--mutual confidence?--I ask of you nothing
+else--I ask of you to write to me confidentially the details of all that
+goes on here. On these two conditions, inseparable one from the other,
+you remain bailiff; otherwise, I shall be forced, with grief and regret,
+to recommend some one else to Madame de la Sainte-Colombe."
+
+"I beg you, sir," said Dupont, with emotion, "Be generous without any
+conditions!--I and my wife have only this place to give us bread, and we
+are too old to find another. Do not expose our probity of forty
+years' standing to be tempted by the fear of want, which is so bad a
+counsellor!"
+
+"My dear M. Dupont, you are really a great child: you must reflect upon
+this, and give me your answer in the course of a week."
+
+"Oh, sir! I implore you--" The conversation was here interrupted by a
+loud report, which was almost instantaneously repeated by the echoes of
+the cliffs. "What is that?" said M. Rodin. Hardly had he spoken, when
+the same noise was again heard more distinctly than before.
+
+"It is the sound of cannon," cried Dupont, rising; "no doubt a ship in
+distress, or signaling for a pilot."
+
+"My dear," said the bailiffs wife, entering abruptly, "from the terrace,
+we can see a steamer and a large ship nearly dismasted--they are
+drifting right upon the shore--the ship is firing minute gulls--it will
+be lost."
+
+"Oh, it is terrible!" cried the bailiff, taking his hat and preparing to
+go out, "to look on at a shipwreck, and be able to do nothing!"
+
+"Can no help be given to these vessels?" asked M. Rodin.
+
+"If they are driven upon the reefs, no human power can save them; since
+the last equinox two ships have been lost on this coast."
+
+"Lost with all on board?--Oh, very frightful," said M. Rodin.
+
+"In such a storm, there is but little chance for the crew; no matter,"
+said the bailiff, addressing his wife, "I will run down to the rocks
+with the people of the farm, and try to save some of them, poor
+creatures!--Light large fires in several rooms--get ready linen,
+clothes, cordials--I scarcely dare hope to save any, but we must do our
+best. Will you come with me, M. Rodin?"
+
+"I should think it a duty, if I could be at all useful, but I am too
+old and feeble to be of any service," said M. Rodin, who was by no means
+anxious to encounter the storm. "Your good lady will be kind enough to
+show me the Green Chamber, and when I have found the articles I require,
+I will set out immediately for Paris, for I am in great haste."
+
+"Very well, sir. Catherine will show you. Ring the big bell," said the
+bailiff to his servant; "let all the people of the farm meet me at the
+foot of the cliff, with ropes and levers."
+
+"Yes, my dear," replied Catherine; "but do not expose yourself."
+
+"Kiss me--it will bring me luck," said the bailiff; and he started at a
+full run, crying: "Quick! quick; by this time not a plank may remain of
+the vessels."
+
+"My dear madam," said Rodin, always impassible, "will you be obliging
+enough to show me the Green Chamber?"
+
+"Please to follow me, sir," answered Catherine, drying her tears--for
+she trembled on account of her husband, whose courage she well knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE TEMPEST
+
+The sea is raging. Mountainous waves of dark green, marbled with white
+foam, stand out, in high, deep undulations, from the broad streak of red
+light, which extends along the horizon. Above are piled heavy masses
+of black and sulphurous vapor, whilst a few lighter clouds of a reddish
+gray, driven by the violence of the wind, rush across the murky sky.
+
+The pale winter sun, before he quite disappears in the great clouds,
+behind which he is slowly mounting, casts here and there some oblique
+rays upon the troubled sea, and gilds the transparent crest of some of
+the tallest waves. A band of snow-white foam boils and rages as far
+as the eye can reach, along the line of the reefs that bristle on this
+dangerous coast.
+
+Half-way up a rugged promontory, which juts pretty far into the sea,
+rises Cardoville Castle; a ray of the sun glitters upon its windows; its
+brick walls and pointed roofs of slate are visible in the midst of this
+sky loaded with vapors.
+
+A large, disabled ship, with mere shreds of sail still fluttering from
+the stumps of broken masts, drives dead upon the coast. Now she rolls
+her monstrous hull upon the waves--now plunges into their trough. A
+flash is seen, followed by a dull sound, scarcely perceptible in
+the midst of the roar of the tempest. That gun is the last signal of
+distress from this lost vessel, which is fast forging on the breakers.
+
+At the same moment, a steamer, with its long plume of black smoke, is
+working her way from east to west, making every effort to keep at a
+distance from the shore, leaving the breakers on her left. The dismasted
+ship, drifting towards the rocks, at the mercy of the wind and tide,
+must some time pass right ahead of the steamer.
+
+Suddenly, the rush of a heavy sea laid the steamer upon her side; the
+enormous wave broke furiously on her deck; in a second the chimney
+was carried away, the paddle box stove in, one of the wheels rendered
+useless. A second white-cap, following the first, again struck the
+vessel amidships, and so increased the damage that, no longer answering
+to the helm, she also drifted towards the shore, in the same direction
+as the ship. But the latter, though further from the breakers, presented
+a greater surface to the wind and sea, and so gained upon the steamer
+in swiftness that a collision between the two vessels became imminent--a
+new clanger added to all the horrors of the now certain wreck.
+
+The ship was an English vessel, the "Black Eagle," homeward bound from
+Alexandria, with passengers, who arriving from India and Java, via
+the Red Sea, had disembarked at the Isthmus of Suez, from on board
+the steamship "Ruyter." The "Black Eagle," quitting the Straits of
+Gibraltar, had gone to touch at the Azores. She headed thence for
+Portsmouth, when she was overtaken in the Channel by the northwester.
+The steamer was the "William Tell," coming from Germany, by way of the
+Elbe, and bound, in the last place, for Hamburg to Havre.
+
+These two vessels, the sport of enormous rollers, driven along by tide
+and tempest, were now rushing upon the breakers with frightful speed.
+The deck of each offered a terrible spectacle; the loss of crew and
+passengers appeared almost certain, for before them a tremendous sea
+broke on jagged rocks, at the foot of a perpendicular cliff.
+
+The captain of the "Black Eagle," standing on the poop, holding by the
+remnant of a spar, issued his last orders in this fearful extremity
+with courageous coolness. The smaller boats had been carried away by
+the waves; it was in vain to think of launching the long-boat; the only
+chance of escape in case the ship should not be immediately dashed to
+pieces on touching the rocks, was to establish a communication with the
+land by means of a life-line--almost the last resort for passing between
+the shore and a stranded vessel.
+
+The deck was covered with passengers, whose cries and terror augmented
+the general confusion. Some, struck with a kind of stupor, and clinging
+convulsively to the shrouds, awaited their doom in a state of stupid
+insensibility. Others wrung their hands in despair, or rolled upon the
+deck uttering horrible imprecations. Here, women knelt down to pray;
+there, others hid their faces in their hands, that they might not see
+the awful approach of death. A young mother, pale as a specter, holding
+her child clasped tightly to her bosom, went supplicating from sailor
+to sailor, and offering a purse full of gold and jewels to any one that
+would take charge of her son.
+
+These cries, and tears, and terror contrasted with the stern and silent
+resignation of the sailors. Knowing the imminence of the inevitable
+danger, some of them stripped themselves of part of their clothes,
+waiting for the moment to make a last effort, to dispute their lives
+with the fury of the waves; others renouncing all hope, prepared to meet
+death with stoical indifference.
+
+Here and there, touching or awful episodes rose in relief, if one may so
+express it, from this dark and gloomy background of despair.
+
+A young man of about eighteen or twenty, with shiny black hair, copper
+colored complexion, and perfectly regular and handsome features,
+contemplated this scene of dismay and horror with that sad calmness
+peculiar to those who have often braved great perils; wrapped in a
+cloak, he leaned his back against the bulwarks, with his feet resting
+against one of the bulkheads. Suddenly, the unhappy mother, who, with
+her child in her arms, and gold in her hand, had in vain addressed
+herself to several of the mariners, to beg them to save her boy,
+perceiving the young man with the copper-colored complexion, threw
+herself on her knees before him, and lifted her child towards him with
+a burst of inexpressible agony. The young man took it, mournfully shook
+his head, and pointed to the furious waves--but, with a meaning gesture,
+he appeared to promise that he would at least try to save it. Then the
+young mother, in a mad transport of hope, seized the hand of the youth,
+and bathed it with her tears.
+
+Further on, another passenger of the "Black Eagle," seemed animated
+by sentiments of the most active pity. One would hardly have given him
+five-and-twenty years of age. His long, fair locks fell in curls on
+either side of his angelic countenance. He wore a black cassock and
+white neck-band. Applying himself to comfort the most desponding, he
+went from one to the other, and spoke to them pious words of hope and
+resignation; to hear him console some, and encourage others, in language
+full of unction, tenderness, and ineffable charity, one would have
+supposed him unaware or indifferent to the perils that he shared.
+
+On his fine, mild features, was impressed a calm and sacred intrepidity,
+a religious abstraction from every terrestrial thought; from time to
+time, he raised to heaven his large blue eyes, beaming with gratitude,
+love, and serenity, as if to thank God for having called him to one of
+those formidable trials in which the man of humanity and courage may
+devote himself for his brethren, and, if not able to rescue them at all,
+at least die with them, pointing to the sky. One might almost have
+taken him for an angel, sent down to render less cruel the strokes of
+inexorable fate.
+
+Strange contrast! not far from this young man's angelic beauty, there
+was another being, who resembled an evil spirit!
+
+Boldly mounted on what was left of the bowsprit, to which he held on by
+means of some remaining cordage, this man looked down upon the terrible
+scene that was passing on the deck. A grim, wild joy lighted up his
+countenance of a dead yellow, that tint peculiar to those who spring
+from the union of the white race with the East. He wore only a shirt and
+linen drawers; from his neck was suspended, by a cord, a cylindrical tin
+box, similar to that in which soldiers carry their leave of absence.
+
+The more the danger augmented, the nearer the ship came to the
+breakers, or to a collision with the steamer, which she was now rapidly
+approaching--a terrible collision, which would probably cause the two
+vessels to founder before even they touched the rocks--the more did the
+infernal joy of this passenger reveal itself in frightful transports. He
+seemed to long, with ferocious impatience, for the moment when the work
+of destruction should be accomplished. To see him thus feasting with
+avidity on all the agony, the terror, and the despair of those around
+him, one might have taken him for the apostle of one of those sanguinary
+deities, who, in barbarous countries, preside over murder and carnage.
+
+By this time the "Black Eagle," driven by the wind and waves, came so
+near the "William Tell" that the passengers on the deck of the nearly
+dismantled steamer were visible from the first-named vessel.
+
+These passengers were no longer numerous. The heavy sea, which stove
+in the paddle-box and broke one of the paddles, had also carried away
+nearly the whole of the bulwarks on that side; the waves, entering
+every instant by this large opening, swept the decks with irresistible
+violence, and every time bore away with them some fresh victims.
+
+Amongst the passengers, who seemed only to have escaped this danger
+to be hurled against the rocks, or crushed in the encounter of the two
+vessels, one group was especially worthy of the most tender and painful
+interest. Taking refuge abaft, a tall old man, with bald forehead and
+gray moustache, had lashed himself to a stanchion, by winding a piece of
+rope round his body, whilst he clasped in his arms, and held fast to his
+breast, two girls of fifteen or sixteen, half enveloped in a pelisse of
+reindeer-skin. A large, fallow, Siberian dog, dripping with water, and
+barking furiously at the waves, stood close to their feet.
+
+These girls, clasped in the arms of the old man, also pressed close to
+each other; but, far from being lost in terror, they raised their
+eyes to heaven, full of confidence and ingenuous hope, as though they
+expected to be saved by the intervention of some supernatural power.
+
+A frightful shriek of horror and despair, raised by the passengers of
+both vessels, was heard suddenly above the roar of the tempest. At the
+moment when, plunging deeply between two waves, the broadside of the
+steamer was turned towards the bows of the ship, the latter, lifted to
+a prodigious height on a mountain of water, remained, as it were,
+suspended over the "William Tell," during the second which preceded the
+shock of the two vessels.
+
+There are sights of so sublime a horror, that it is impossible to
+describe them. Yet, in the midst of these catastrophes, swift as
+thought, one catches sometimes a momentary glimpse of a picture, rapid
+and fleeting, as if illumined by a flash of lightning.
+
+Thus, when the "Black Eagle," poised aloft by the flood, was about
+to crash down upon the "William Tell," the young man with the angelic
+countenance and fair, waving locks bent over the prow of the ship, ready
+to cast himself into the sea to save some victim. Suddenly, he perceived
+on board the steamer, on which he looked down from the summit of
+the immense wave, the two girls extending their arms towards him in
+supplication. They appeared to recognize him, and gazed on him with a
+sort of ecstacy and religious homage!
+
+For a second, in spite of the horrors of the tempest, in spite of the
+approaching shipwreck, the looks of those three beings met. The features
+of the young man were expressive of sudden and profound pity; for the
+maidens with their hands clasped in prayer, seemed to invoke him as
+their expected Saviour. The old man, struck down by the fall of a plank,
+lay helpless on the deck. Soon all disappeared together.
+
+A fearful mass of water dashed the "Black Eagle" down upon the "William
+Tell," in the midst of a cloud of boiling foam. To the dreadful crash
+of the two great bodies of wood and iron, which splintering against one
+another, instantly foundered, one loud cry was added--a cry of agony and
+death--the cry of a hundred human creatures swallowed up at once by the
+waves!
+
+And then--nothing more was visible!
+
+A few moments after, the fragments of the two vessels appeared in the
+trough of the sea, and on the caps of the waves--with here and there
+the contracted arms, the livid and despairing faces of some unhappy
+wretches, striving to make their way to the reefs along the shore, at
+the risk of being crushed to death by the shock of the furious breakers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE SHIPWRECK.
+
+While the bailiff was gone to the sea-shore, to render help to those of
+the passengers who might escape from the inevitable shipwreck, M.
+Rodin, conducted by Catherine to the Green Chamber, had there found the
+articles that he was to take with him to Paris.
+
+After passing two hours in this apartment, very indifferent to the fate
+of the shipwrecked persons, which alone absorbed the attention of
+the inhabitants of the Castle, Rodin returned to the chamber commonly
+occupied by the bailiff, a room which opened upon a long gallery. When
+he entered it he found nobody there. Under his arm he held a casket,
+with silver fastenings, almost black from age, whilst one end of a
+large red morocco portfolio projected from the breast-pocket of his half
+buttoned great coat.
+
+Had the cold and livid countenance of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's secretary
+been able to express joy otherwise than by a sarcastic smile, his
+features would have been radiant with delight; for, just then, he was
+under the influence of the most agreeable thoughts. Having placed
+the casket upon a table, it was with marked satisfaction that he thus
+communed with himself:
+
+"All goes well. It was prudent to keep these papers here till this
+moment, for one must always be on guard against the diabolical spirit of
+that Adrienne de Cardoville, who appears to guess instinctively what it
+is impossible she should know. Fortunately, the time approaches when we
+shall have no more need to fear her. Her fate will be a cruel one; it
+must be so. Those proud, independent characters are at all times our
+natural enemies--they are so by their very essence--how much more when
+they show themselves peculiarly hurtful and dangerous! As for La Sainte
+Colombe, the bailiff is sure to act for us; between what the fool
+calls his conscience, and the dread of being at his age deprived of a
+livelihood, he will not hesitate. I wish to have him because he will
+serve us better than a stranger; his having been here twenty years will
+prevent all suspicion on the part of that dull and narrow-minded woman.
+Once in the hands of our man at Roiville, I will answer for the result.
+The course of all such gross and stupid women is traced beforehand:
+in their youth, they serve the devil; in riper years, they make others
+serve him; in their old age, they are horribly afraid of him; and this
+fear must continue till she has left us the Chateau de Cardoville,
+which, from its isolated position, will make us an excellent college.
+All then goes well. As for the affair of the medals, the 13th of
+February approaches, without news from Joshua--evidently, Prince Djalma
+is still kept prisoner by the English in the heart of India, or I must
+have received letters from Batavia. The daughters of General Simon will
+be detained at Leipsic for at least a month longer. All our foreign
+relations are in the best condition. As for our internal affairs--"
+
+ Here M. Rodin was interrupted in the current of his reflections by the
+entrance of Madame Dupont, who was zealously engaged in preparations to
+give assistance in case of need.
+
+"Now," said she to the servant, "light a fire in the next room; put this
+warm wine there; your master may be in every minute."
+
+"Well, my dear madam," said Rodin to her, "do they hope to save any of
+these poor creatures?"
+
+"Alas! I do not know, sir. My husband has been gone nearly two hours. I
+am terribly uneasy on his account. He is so courageous, so imprudent, if
+once he thinks he can be of any service."
+
+"Courageous even to imprudence," said Rodin to himself, impatiently; "I
+do not like that."
+
+"Well," resumed Catherine, "I have here at hand my hot linen, my
+cordials--heaven grant it may all be of use!"
+
+"We may at least hope so, my dear madam. I very much regretted that my
+age and weakness did not permit me to assist your excellent husband. I
+also regret not being able to wait for the issue of his exertions,
+and to wish him joy if successful--for I am unfortunately compelled to
+depart, my moments are precious. I shall be much obliged if you will
+have the carriage got ready."
+
+"Yes, Sir; I will see about it directly."
+
+"One word, my dear, good Madame Dupont. You are a woman of sense, and
+excellent judgment. Now I have put your husband in the way to keep, if
+he will, his situation as bailiff of the estate--"
+
+"Is it possible? What gratitude do we not owe you! Without this place
+what would become of us at our time of life?"
+
+"I have only saddled my promise with two conditions--mere trifles--he
+will explain all that to you."
+
+"Ah, sir! we shall regard you as our deliverer."
+
+"You are too good. Only, on two little conditions--"
+
+"If there were a hundred, sir we should gladly accept them. Think what
+we should be without this place--penniless--absolutely penniless!"
+
+"I reckon upon you then; for the interest of your husband, you will try
+to persuade him."
+
+"Missus! I say, missus! here's master come back," cried a servant,
+rushing into the chamber.
+
+"Has he many with him?"
+
+"No, missus; he is alone."
+
+"Alone! alone?"
+
+"Quite alone, missus."
+
+A few moments after, M. Dupont entered the room; his clothes were
+streaming with water; to keep his hat on in the midst of the storm, he
+had tied it down to his head by means of his cravat, which was knotted
+under his chin; his gaiters were covered with chalky stains.
+
+"There I have thee, my dear love!" cried his wife, tenderly embracing
+him. "I have been so uneasy!"
+
+"Up to the present moment--THREE SAVED."
+
+"God be praised, my dear M. Dupont!" said Rodin; "at least your efforts
+will not have been all in vain."
+
+"Three, only three?" said Catherine. "Gracious heaven!"
+
+"I only speak of those I saw myself, near the little creek of Goelands.
+Let us hope there may be more saved on other parts of the coast."
+
+"Yes, indeed; happily, the shore is not equally steep in all parts."
+
+"And where are these interesting sufferers, my dear sir?" asked Rodin,
+who could not avoid remaining a few instants longer.
+
+"They are mounting the cliffs, supported by our people. As they cannot
+walk very fast, I ran on before to console my wife, and to take the
+necessary measures for their reception. First of all, my dear, you must
+get ready some women's clothes."
+
+"There is then a woman amongst the persons saved?"
+
+"There are two girls--fifteen or sixteen years of age at the most--mere
+children--and so pretty!"
+
+"Poor little things!" said Rodin, with an affectation of interest.
+
+"The person to whom they owe their lives is with them. He is a real
+hero!"
+
+"A hero?"
+
+"Yes; only fancy--"
+
+"You can tell me all this by and by. Just slip on this dry warm
+dressing-gown, and take some of this hot wine. You are wet through."
+
+"I'll not refuse, for I am almost frozen to death. I was telling you
+that the person who saved these young girls was a hero; and certainly
+his courage was beyond anything one could have imagined. When I left
+here with the men of the farm, we descended the little winding path,
+and arrived at the foot of the cliff--near the little creek of Goelands,
+fortunately somewhat sheltered from the waves by five or six enormous
+masses of rock stretching out into the sea. Well, what should we find
+there? Why, the two young girls I spoke of, in a swoon, with their feet
+still in the water, and their bodies resting against a rock, as though
+they had been placed there by some one, after being withdrawn from the
+sea."
+
+"Dear children! it is quite touching!" said M. Rodin, raising, as usual,
+the tip of his little finger to the corner of his right eye, as though
+to dry a tear, which was very seldom visible.
+
+"What struck me was their great resemblance to each other," resumed
+the bailiff; "only one in the habit of seeing them could tell the
+difference."
+
+"Twin--sisters, no doubt," said Madame Dupont.
+
+"One of the poor things," continued the bailiff, "held between her
+clasped hands a little bronze medal, which was suspended from her neck
+by a chain of the same material."
+
+Rodin generally maintained a very stooping posture; but at these last
+words of the bailiff, he drew himself up suddenly, whilst a faint color
+spread itself over his livid cheeks. In any other person, these symptoms
+would have appeared of little consequence; but in Rodin, accustomed for
+long years to control and dissimulate his emotions, they announced
+no ordinary excitement. Approaching the bailiff, he said to him in a
+slightly agitated voice, but still with an air of indifference: "It was
+doubtless a pious relic. Did you see what was inscribed on this medal?"
+
+"No, sir; I did not think of it."
+
+"And the two young girls were like one another--very much like, you
+say?"
+
+"So like, that one would hardly know which was which. Probably they are
+orphans, for they are dressed in mourning."
+
+"Oh! dressed in mourning?" said M. Rodin, with another start.
+
+"Alas! orphans so young!" said Madame Dupont, wiping her eyes.
+
+"As they had fainted away, we carried them further on to a place where
+the sand was quite dry. While we were busy about this, we saw the head
+of a man appear from behind one of the rocks, which he was trying to
+climb, clinging to it by one hand; we ran to him, and luckily in the
+nick of time, for he was clean worn out, and fell exhausted into the
+arms of our men. It was of him I spoke when I talked of a hero; for, not
+content with having saved the two young girls by his admirable courage,
+he had attempted to rescue a third person, and had actually gone back
+amongst the rocks and breakers--but his strength failed him, and,
+without the aid of our men, he would certainly have been washed away
+from the ridge to which he clung."
+
+"He must indeed be a fine fellow!" said Catherine.
+
+Rodin, with his head bowed upon his breast, seemed quite indifferent to
+this conversation. The dismay and stupor, in which he had been plunged,
+only increased upon reflection. The two girls, who had just been saved,
+were fifteen years of age; were dressed in mourning; were so like, that
+one might be taken for the other; one of them wore round her neck a
+chain with a bronze medal; he could scarcely doubt that they were the
+daughters of General Simon. But how could those sisters be amongst the
+number of shipwrecked passengers? How could they have escaped from the
+prison at Leipsic? How did it happen, that he had not been informed of
+it? Could they have fled, or had they been set at liberty? How was
+it possible that he should not be apprise of such an event? But these
+secondary thoughts, which offered themselves in crowds to the mind of
+M. Rodin, were swallowed up in the one fact: "the daughters of General
+Simon are here!"--His plan, so laboriously laid, was thus entirely
+destroyed.
+
+"When I speak of the deliverer of these young girls," resumed the
+bailiff, addressing his wife, and without remarking M. Rodin's absence
+of mind, "you are expecting no doubt to see a Hercules?--well, he is
+altogether the reverse. He is almost a boy in look, with fair, sweet
+face, and light, curling locks. I left him a cloak to cover him, for he
+had nothing on but his shirt, black knee-breeches, and a pair of black
+worsted stockings--which struck me as singular."
+
+"Why, it was certainly not a sailor's dress."
+
+"Besides, though the ship was English, I believe my hero is a Frenchman,
+for he speaks our language as well as we do. What brought the tears to
+my eyes, was to see the young girls, when they came to themselves. As
+soon as they saw him, they threw themselves at his feet, and seemed to
+look up to him and thank him, as one would pray. Then they cast their
+eyes around them, as if in search of some other person, and, having
+exchanged a few words, they fell sobbing into each other's arms."
+
+"What a dreadful thing it is! How many poor creatures must have
+perished!"
+
+"When we quitted the rocks, the sea had already cast ashore seven dead
+bodies, besides fragments of the wrecks, and packages. I spoke to some
+of the coast-guard, and they will remain all day on the look-out; and
+if, as I hope, any more should escape with life, they are to be
+brought here. But surely that is the sound of voices!--yes, it is our
+shipwrecked guests!"
+
+The bailiff and his wife ran to the door of the room--that door, which
+opened on the long gallery--whilst Rodin, biting convulsively his flat
+nails, awaited with angry impatience the arrival of the strangers. A
+touching picture soon presented itself to his view.
+
+From the end of the dark some gallery, only lighted on one side by
+several windows, three persons, conducted by a peasant, advanced slowly.
+This group consisted of the two maidens, and the intrepid young man
+to whom they owed their lives. Rose and Blanche were on either side of
+their deliverer, who, walking with great difficulty, supported himself
+lightly on their arms.
+
+Though he was full twenty-five years of age, the juvenile countenance
+of this man made him appear younger. His long, fair hair, parted on
+the forehead, streamed wet and smooth over the collar of a large brown
+cloak, with which he had been covered. It would be difficult to describe
+the adorable expression of goodness in his pale, mild face, as pure as
+the most ideal creations of Raphael's pencil--for that divine artist
+alone could have caught the melancholy grace of those exquisite
+features, the serenity of that celestial look, from eyes limpid and blue
+as those of an archangel, or of a martyr ascended to the skies.
+
+Yes, of a martyr! for a blood-red halo already encircled that beauteous
+head. Piteous sight to see! just above his light eyebrows, and rendered
+still more visible by the effect of the cold, a narrow cicatrix, from
+a wound inflicted many months before, appeared to encompass his fair
+forehead with a purple band; and (still more sad!) his hands had
+been cruelly pierced by a crucifixion--his feet had suffered the same
+injury--and, if he now walked with so much difficulty, it was that his
+wounds had reopened, as he struggled over the sharp rocks.
+
+This young man was Gabriel, the priest attached to the foreign mission,
+the adopted son of Dagobert's wife. He was a priest and martyr--for, in
+our days, there are still martyrs, as in the time when the Caesars flung
+the early Christians to the lions and tigers of the circus.
+
+Yes, in our days, the children of the people--for it is almost always
+amongst them that heroic and disinterested devotion may still be
+found--the children of the people, led by an honorable conviction,
+because it is courageous and sincere, go to all parts of the world, to
+try and propagate their faith, and brave both torture and death with the
+most unpretending valor.
+
+How many of them, victims of some barbarous tribe, have perished,
+obscure and unknown, in the midst of the solitudes of the two
+worlds!--And for these humble soldiers of the cross, who have nothing
+but their faith and their intrepidity, there is never reserved on their
+return (and they seldom do return) the rich and sumptuous dignities of
+the church. Never does the purple or the mitre conceal their scarred
+brows and mutilated limbs; like the great majority of other soldiers,
+they die forgotten.(8)
+
+In their ingenuous gratitude, the daughters of General Simon, as soon
+as they recovered their senses after the shipwreck, and felt themselves
+able to ascend the cliffs, would not leave to any other person the
+care of sustaining the faltering steps of him who had rescued them from
+certain death.
+
+The black garments of Rose and Blanche streamed with water; their faces
+were deadly pale, and expressive of deep grief; the marks of recent
+tears were on their cheeks, and, with sad, downcast eyes, they trembled
+both from agitation and cold, as the agonizing thought recurred to them,
+that they should never again see Dagobert, their friend and guide; for
+it was to him that Gabriel had stretched forth a helping hand, to assist
+him to climb the rocks. Unfortunately the strength of both had failed,
+and the soldier had been carried away by a retreating wave.
+
+The sight of Gabriel was a fresh surprise for Rodin, who had retired on
+one side, in order to observe all; but this surprise was of so pleasant
+a nature, and he felt so much joy in beholding the missionary safe after
+such imminent peril, that the painful impression, caused by the view
+of General Simon's daughters, was a little softened. It must not
+be forgotten, that the presence of Gabriel in Paris, on the 13th of
+February, was essential to the success of Rodin's projects.
+
+The bailiff and his wife, who were greatly moved at sight of the
+orphans, approached them with eagerness. Just then a farm-boy entered
+the room, crying: "Sir! sir! good news--two more saved from the wreck!"
+
+"Blessing and praise to God for it!" said the missionary.
+
+"Where are they?" asked the bailiff, hastening towards the door.
+
+"There is one who can walk, and is following behind me with Justin;
+the other was wounded against the rocks, and they are carrying him on a
+litter made of branches."
+
+"I will run and have him placed in the room below," said the bailiff, as
+he went out. "Catherine, you can look to the young ladies."
+
+"And the shipwrecked man who can walk--where is he?" asked the bailiff's
+wife.
+
+"Here he is," said the peasant, pointing to some one who came rapidly
+along the gallery; "when he heard that the two young ladies were safe
+in the chateau--though he is old, and wounded in the head, he took such
+great strides, that it was all I could do to get here before him."
+
+Hardly had the peasant pronounced these words, when Rose and Blanche,
+springing up by a common impulse, flew to the door. They arrived there
+at the same moment as Dagobert.
+
+The soldier, unable to utter a syllable, fell on his knees at the
+threshold, and extended his arms to the daughters of General Simon;
+while Spoil-sport, running to them licked their hands.
+
+But the emotion was too much for Dagobert; and, when he had clasped the
+orphans in his arms, his head fell backward, and he would have sunk
+down altogether, but for the care of the peasants. In spite of the
+observations of the bailiff's wife, on their state of weakness and
+agitation, the two young girls insisted on accompanying Dagobert, who
+was carried fainting into an adjoining apartment.
+
+At sight of the soldier, Rodin's face was again violently contracted,
+for he had till then believed that the guide of General Simon's
+daughters was dead. The missionary, worn out with fatigue, was leaning
+upon a chair, and had not yet perceived Rodin.
+
+A new personage, a man with a dead yellow complexion, now entered the
+room, accompanied by another peasant, who pointed out Gabriel to him.
+This man, who had just borrowed a smock-frock and a pair of trousers,
+approached the missionary, and said to him in French but with a foreign
+accent: "Prince Djalma has just been brought in here. His first word was
+to ask for you."
+
+"What does that man say?" cried Rodin, in a voice of thunder; for, at
+the name of Djalma, he had sprung with one bound to Gabriel's side.
+
+"M. Rodin!" exclaimed the missionary, falling back in surprise.
+
+"M. Rodin," cried the other shipwrecked person; and from that moment, he
+kept his eye fixed on the correspondent of M. Van Dael.
+
+"You here, sir?" said Gabriel, approaching Rodin with an air of
+deference, not unmixed with fear.
+
+"What did that man say to you?" repeated Rodin, in an excited tone. "Did
+he not utter the name of Prince Djalma?"
+
+"Yes, sir; Prince Djalma was one of the passengers on board the English
+ship, which came from Alexandria, and in which we have just been
+wrecked. This vessel touched at the Azores, where I then was; the ship
+that brought me from Charlestown having been obliged to put in there,
+and being likely to remain for some time, on account of serious damage,
+I embarked on board the 'Black Eagle,' where I met Prince Djalma. We
+were bound to Portsmouth, and from thence my intention was to proceed to
+France."
+
+Rodin did not care to interrupt Gabriel. This new shock had completely
+paralyzed his thoughts. At length, like a man who catches at a last
+hope, which he knows beforehand to be vain, he said to Gabriel: "Can you
+tell me who this Prince Djalma is?"
+
+"A young man as good as brave--the son of an East Indian king,
+dispossessed of his territory by the English."
+
+Then, turning towards the other shipwrecked man, the missionary said
+to him with anxious interest: "How is the Prince? are his wounds
+dangerous?"
+
+"They are serious contusions, but they will not be mortal," answered the
+other.
+
+"Heaven be praised!" said the missionary, addressing Rodin; "here, you
+see, is another saved."
+
+"So much the better," observed Rodin, in a quick, imperious tone.
+
+"I will go see him," said Gabriel, submissively. "You have no orders to
+give me?"
+
+"Will you be able to leave this place in two or three hours,
+notwithstanding your fatigue?"
+
+"If it be necessary--yes."
+
+"It is necessary. You will go with me."
+
+Gabriel only bowed in reply, and Rodin sank confounded into a chair,
+while the missionary went out with the peasant. The man with the sallow
+complexion still lingered in a corner of the room, unperceived by Rodin.
+
+This man was Faringhea, the half-caste, one of the three chiefs of the
+Stranglers. Having escaped the pursuit of the soldiers in the ruins
+of Tchandi, he had killed Mahal the Smuggler, and robbed him of the
+despatches written by M. Joshua Van Dael to Rodin, as also of the letter
+by which the smuggler was to have been received as passenger on board
+the "Ruyter." When Faringhea left the hut in the ruins of Tchandi,
+he had not been seen by Djalma; and the latter, when he met him on
+shipboard, after his escape (which we shall explain by and by), not
+knowing that he belonged to the sect of Phansegars, treated him during
+the voyage as a fellow-countryman.
+
+Rodin, with his eye fixed and haggard, his countenance of a livid hue,
+biting his nails to the quick in silent rage, did not perceive the half
+caste, who quietly approached him and laying his hand familiarly on his
+shoulder, said to him: "Your name is Rodin?"
+
+"What now?" asked the other, starting, and raising his head abruptly.
+
+"Your name is Rodin?" repeated Faringhea.
+
+"Yes. What do you want?"
+
+"You live in the Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins, Paris?"
+
+"Yes. But, once more, what do you want?"
+
+"Nothing now, brother: hereafter, much!"
+
+And Faringhea, retiring, with slow steps, left Rodin alarmed at what
+had passed; for this man, who scarcely trembled at anything, had quailed
+before the dark look and grim visage of the Strangler.
+
+(8) We always remember with emotion the end of a letter written, two or
+three years ago, by one of these young and valiant missionaries, the son
+of poor parents in Beauce. He was writing to his mother from the heart
+of Japan, and thus concluded his letter: "Adieu, my dear mother! they
+say there is much danger where I am now sent to. Pray for me, and tell
+all our good neighbors that I think of them very often." These few
+words, addressed from the centre of Asia to poor peasants in a hamlet of
+France, are only the more touching from their very simplicity--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. THE DEPARTURE FOR PARIS.
+
+The most profound silence reigns throughout Cardoville House. The
+tempest has lulled by degrees, and nothing is heard from afar but the
+hoarse murmur of the waves, as they wash heavily the shore.
+
+Dagobert and the orphans have been lodged in warm and comfortable
+apartments on the first-floor of the chateau. Djalma, too severely hurt
+to be carried upstairs, has remained in a room below. At the moment of
+the shipwreck, a weeping mother had placed her child in his arms. He
+had failed in the attempt to snatch this unfortunate infant from certain
+death, but his generous devotion had hampered his movements, and when
+thrown upon the rocks, he was almost dashed to pieces. Faringhea, who
+has been able to convince him of his affection, remains to watch over
+him.
+
+Gabriel, after administering consolation to Djalma, has rescinded to the
+chamber allotted to him; faithful to the promise he made to Rodin, to be
+ready to set out in two hours, he has not gone to bed; but, having dried
+his clothes, he has fallen asleep in a large, high-backed arm-chair,
+placed in front of a bright coal-fire. His apartment is situated near
+those occupied by Dagobert and the two sisters.
+
+Spoil-sport, probably quite at his ease in so respectable a dwelling,
+has quitted the door of Rose and Blanche's chamber, to lie down and warm
+himself at the hearth, by the side of which the missionary is sleeping.
+There, with his nose resting on his outstretched paws, he enjoys a
+feeling of perfect comfort and repose, after so many perils by land and
+sea. We will not venture to affirm, that he thinks habitually of poor
+old Jovial; unless we recognize as a token of remembrance on his part,
+his irresistible propensity to bite all the white horses he has met
+with, ever since the death of his venerable companion, though before, he
+was the most inoffensive of dogs with regard to horses of every color.
+
+Presently one of the doors of the chamber opened, and the two sisters
+entered timidly. Awake for some minutes, they had risen and dressed
+themselves, feeling still some uneasiness with respect to Dagobert;
+though the bailiff's wife, after showing them to their room, had
+returned again to tell them that the village doctor found nothing
+serious in the hurt of the old soldier, still they hoped to meet some
+one belonging to the chateau, of whom they could make further inquiries
+about him.
+
+The high back of the old-fashioned arm-chair, in which Gabriel was
+sleeping, completely screened him from view; but the orphans, seeing
+their canine friend lying quietly at his feet, thought it was Dagobert
+reposing there, and hastened towards him on tip-toe. To their great
+astonishment, they saw Gabriel fast asleep, and stood still in
+confusion, not daring to advance or recede, for fear of waking him.
+
+The long, light hair of the missionary was no longer wet, and now curled
+naturally round his neck and shoulders; the paleness of his complexion
+was the more striking, from the contrast afforded by the deep purple
+of the damask covering of the arm-chair. His beautiful countenance
+expressed a profound melancholy, either caused by the influence of some
+painful dream, or else that he was in the habit of keeping down, when
+awake, some sad regrets, which revealed themselves without his knowledge
+when he was sleeping. Notwithstanding this appearance of bitter grief,
+his features preserved their character of angelic sweetness, and seemed
+endowed with an inexpressible charm, for nothing is more touching than
+suffering goodness. The two young girls cast down their eyes, blushed
+simultaneously, and exchanged anxious glances, as if to point out to
+each other the slumbering missionary.
+
+"He sleeps, sister," said Rose in a low voice.
+
+"So much the better," replied Blanche, also in a whisper, making a sign
+of caution; "we shall now be able to observe him well."
+
+"Yes, for we durst not do so, in coming from the sea hither."
+
+"Look! what a sweet countenance!"
+
+"He is just the same as we saw him in our dreams."
+
+"When he promised he would protect us."
+
+"And he has not failed us."
+
+"But here, at least, he is visible."
+
+"Not as it was in the prison at Leipsic, during that dark night."
+
+"And so--he has again rescued us."
+
+"Without him, we should have perished this morning."
+
+"And yet, sister, it seems to me, that in our dreams his countenance
+shone with light."
+
+"Yes, you know it dazzled us to look at him."
+
+"And then he had not so sad a mien."
+
+"That was because he came then from heaven; now he is upon earth."
+
+"But, sister, had he then that bright red scar round his forehead?"
+
+"Oh, no! we should have certainly perceived it."
+
+"And these other marks on his hands?"
+
+"If he has been wounded, how can he be an archangel?"
+
+"Why not, sister? If he received those wounds in preventing evil, or in
+helping the unfortunate, who, like us, were about to perish?"
+
+"You are right. If he did not run any danger for those he protects, it
+would be less noble."
+
+"What a pity that he does not open his eye!"
+
+"Their expression is so good, so tender!"
+
+"Why did he not speak of our mother, by the way?"
+
+"We were not alone with him; he did not like to do so."
+
+"But now we are alone."
+
+"If we were to pray to him to speak to us?"
+
+The orphans looked doubtingly at each other, with charming simplicity; a
+bright glow suffused their cheeks, and their young bosoms heaved gently
+beneath their black dresses.
+
+"You are right. Let us kneel down to him."
+
+"Oh, sister! our hearts beat so!" said Blanche, believing rightly, that
+Rose felt exactly as she did. "And yet it seems to do us good. It is as
+if some happiness were going to befall us."
+
+The sisters, having approached the arm-chair on tip-toe, knelt down
+with clasped hands, one to the right the other to the left of the young
+priest. It was a charming picture. Turning their lovely faces towards
+him, they said in a low whisper, with a soft, sweet voice, well suited
+to their youthful appearance: "Gabriel! speak to us of our mother!"
+
+On this appeal, the missionary gave a slight start, half-opened his
+eyes, and, still in a state of semi-consciousness, between sleep and
+waking, beheld those two beauteous faces turned towards him, and heard
+two gentle voices repeat his name.
+
+"Who calls me?" said he, rousing himself, and raising his head.
+
+"It is Blanche and Rose."
+
+It was now Gabriel's turn to blush, for he recognized the young girls he
+had saved. "Rise, my sisters!" said he to them; "you should kneel only
+unto God."
+
+The orphans obeyed, and were soon beside him, holding each other by the
+hand. "You know my name, it seems," said the missionary with a smile.
+
+"Oh, we have not forgotten it!"
+
+"Who told it you?"
+
+"Yourself." "I?"
+
+"Yes--when you came from our mother."
+
+"I, my sisters?" said the missionary, unable to comprehend the words of
+the orphans. "You are mistaken. I saw you to-day for the first time."
+
+"But in our dreams?"
+
+"Yes--do you not remember?--in our dreams."
+
+"In Germany--three months ago, for the first time. Look at us well."
+
+Gabriel could not help smiling at the simplicity of Rose and Blanche,
+who expected him to remember a dream of theirs; growing more and more
+perplexed, he repeated: "In your dreams?"
+
+"Certainly; when you gave us such good advice."
+
+"And when we were so sorrowful in prison, your words, which we
+remembered, consoled us, and gave us courage."
+
+"Was it not you, who delivered us from the prison at Leipsic, in that
+dark night, when we were not able to see you?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"What other but you would thus have come to our help, and to that of our
+old friend?"
+
+"We told him, that you would love him, because he loved us, although he
+would not believe in angels."
+
+"And this morning, during the tempest, we had hardly any fear."
+
+"Because we expected you."
+
+"This morning--yes, my sisters--it pleased heaven to send me to your
+assistance. I was coming from America, but I have never been in
+Leipsic. I could not, therefore, have let you out of prison. Tell me, my
+sisters," added he, with a benevolent smile, "for whom do you take me?"
+
+"For a good angel whom we have seen already in dreams, sent by our
+mother from heaven to protect us."
+
+"My dear sisters, I am only a poor priest. It is by mere chance, no
+doubt, that I bear some resemblance to the angel you have seen in your
+dreams, and whom you could not see in any other manner--for angels are
+not visible to mortal eye.
+
+"Angels are not visible?" said the orphans, looking sorrowfully at each
+other.
+
+"No matter, my dear sisters," said Gabriel, taking them affectionately
+by the hand; "dreams, like everything else, come from above. Since the
+remembrance of your mother was mixed up with this dream, it is twice
+blessed."
+
+At this moment a door opened, and Dagobert made his appearance. Up to
+this time, the orphans, in their innocent ambition to be protected by an
+archangel, had quite forgotten the circumstance that Dagobert's wife
+had adopted a forsaken child, who was called Gabriel, and who was now a
+priest and missionary.
+
+The soldier, though obstinate in maintaining that his hurt was only a
+blank wound (to use a term of General Simon's), had allowed it to be
+carefully dressed by the surgeon of the village, and now wore a black
+bandage, which concealed one half of his forehead, and added to the
+natural grimness of his features. On entering the room, he was not a
+little surprised to see a stranger holding the hands of Rose and Blanche
+familiarly in his own. This surprise was natural, for Dagobert did not
+know that the missionary had saved the lives of the orphans, and had
+attempted to save his also.
+
+In the midst of the storm, tossed about by the waves, and vainly
+striving to cling to the rocks, the soldier had only seen Gabriel
+very imperfectly, at the moment when, having snatched the sisters from
+certain death, the young priest had fruitlessly endeavored to come to
+his aid. And when, after the shipwreck, Dagobert had found the orphans
+in safety beneath the roof of the Manor House, he fell, as we have
+already stated, into a swoon, caused by fatigue, emotion, and the
+effects of his wound--so that he had again no opportunity of observing
+the features of the missionary.
+
+The veteran began to frown from beneath his black bandage and thick,
+gray brows, at beholding a stranger so familiar with Rose and Blanche;
+but the sisters ran to throw themselves into his arms, and to cover him
+with filial caresses. His anger was soon dissipated by these marks of
+affection, though he continued, from time to time, to cast a suspicious
+glance at the missionary, who had risen from his seat, but whose
+countenance he could not well distinguish.
+
+"How is your wound?" asked Rose, anxiously. "They told us it was not
+dangerous."
+
+"Does it still pain?" added Blanche.
+
+"No, children; the surgeon of the village would bandage me up in this
+manner. If my head was carbonadoes with sabre cuts, I could not have
+more wrappings. They will take me for an old milksop; it is only a blank
+wound, and I have a good mind to--" And therewith the soldier raised one
+of his hands to the bandage.
+
+"Will you leave that alone?" cried Rose catching his arm. "How can you
+be so unreasonable--at your age?"
+
+"Well, well! don't scold! I will do what you wish, and keep it on."
+Then, drawing the sisters to one end of the room, he said to them in a
+low voice, whilst he looked at the young priest from the corner of his
+eye: "Who is that gentleman who was holding your hands when I came in?
+He has very much the look of a curate. You see, my children, you must be
+on your guard; because--"
+
+"He?" cried both sisters at once, turning towards Gabriel. "Without him,
+we should not now be here to kiss you."
+
+"What's that?" cried the soldier, suddenly drawing up his tall figure,
+and gazing full at the missionary.
+
+"It is our guardian angel," resumed Blanche.
+
+"Without him," said Rose, "we must have perished this morning in the
+shipwreck."
+
+"Ah! it is he, who--" Dagobert could say no more. With swelling heart,
+and tears in his eyes, he ran to the missionary, offered him both his
+hands, and exclaimed in a tone of gratitude impossible to describe:
+"Sir, I owe you the lives of these two children. I feel what a debt
+that service lays upon me. I will not say more--because it includes
+everything!"
+
+Then, as if struck with a sudden recollection, he cried: "Stop! when
+I was trying to cling to a rock, so as not to be carried away by the
+waves, was it not you that held out your hand to me? Yes--that light
+hair--that youthful countenance--yes--it was certainly you--now I am
+sure of it!"
+
+"Unhappily, sir, my strength failed me, and I had the anguish to see you
+fall back into the sea."
+
+"I can say nothing more in the way of thanks than what I have already
+said," answered Dagobert, with touching simplicity: "in preserving these
+children you have done more for me than if you had saved my own life.
+But what heart and courage!" added the soldier, with admiration; "and so
+young, with such a girlish look!"
+
+"And so," cried Blanche, joyfully, "our Gabriel came to your aid also?"
+
+"Gabriel!" said Dagobert interrupting Blanche, and addressing himself to
+the priest. "Is your name Gabriel?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Gabriel!" repeated the soldier, more and more surprised. "And a
+priest!" added he.
+
+"A priest of the foreign missions."
+
+"Who--who brought you up?" asked the soldier, with increasing
+astonishment.
+
+"An excellent and generous woman, whom I revere as the best of mothers:
+for she had pity on me, a deserted infant, and treated me ever as her
+son."
+
+"Frances Baudoin--was it not?" said the soldier, with deep emotion.
+
+"It was, sir," answered Gabriel, astonished in his turn. "But how do you
+know this?"
+
+"The wife of a soldier, eh?" continued Dagobert.
+
+"Yes, of a brave soldier--who, from the most admirable devotion, is even
+now passing his life in exile--far from his wife--far from his son, my
+dear brother--for I am proud to call him by that name--"
+
+"My Agricola!--my wife!--when did you leave them?"
+
+"What! is it possible! You the father of Agricola?--Oh! I knew not,
+until now," cried Gabriel, clasping his hands together, "I knew not all
+the gratitude that I owed to heaven!"
+
+"And my wife! my child!" resumed Dagobert, in a trembling voice; "how
+are they? have you news of them?"
+
+"The accounts I received, three months ago, were excellent."
+
+"No; it is too much," cried Dagobert; "it is too much!" The veteran
+was unable to proceed; his feelings stifled his words, and fell back
+exhausted in a chair.
+
+And now Rose and Blanche recalled to mind that portion of their father's
+letter which related to the child named Gabriel, whom the wife of
+Dagobert had adopted; then they also yielded to transports of innocent
+joy.
+
+"Our Gabriel is the same as yours--what happiness!" cried Rose.
+
+"Yes, my children! he belongs to you as well as to me. We have all
+our part in him." Then, addressing Gabriel, the soldier added with
+affectionate warmth: "Your hand, my brave boy! give me your hand!"
+
+"Oh, sir! you are too good to me."
+
+"Yes--that's it--thank me!--after all thou has done for us!"
+
+"Does my adopted mother know of your return?" asked Gabriel, anxious to
+escape from the praises of the soldier.
+
+"I wrote to her five months since, but said that I should come alone;
+there was a reason for it, which I will explain by and by. Does she
+still live in the Rue Brise-Miche? It was there Agricola was born."
+
+"She still lives there."
+
+"In that case, she must have received my letter. I wished to write to
+her from the prison at Leipsic, but it was impossible."
+
+"From prison! Have you just come out of prison?"
+
+"Yes; I come straight from Germany, by the Elbe and Hamburg, and I
+should be still at Leipsic, but for an event which the Devil must have
+had a hand in--a good sort of devil, though."
+
+"What do you mean? Pray explain to me."
+
+"That would be difficult, for I cannot explain it to myself. These
+little ladies," he added, pointing with a smile to Rose and Blanche,
+"pretended to know more about it than I did, and were continually
+repeating: 'It was the angel that came to our assistance, Dagobert--the
+good angel we told thee of--though you said you would rather have Spoil
+sport to defend us--'"
+
+"Gabriel, I am waiting for you," said a stern voice, which made the
+missionary start. They all turned round instantly, whilst the dog
+uttered a deep growl.
+
+It was Rodin. He stood in the doorway leading to the corridor. His
+features were calm and impassive, but he darted a rapid, piercing glance
+at the soldier and sisters.
+
+"Who is that man?" said Dagobert, very little prepossessed in favor
+of Rodin, whose countenance he found singularly repulsive. "What the
+mischief does he want?"
+
+"I must go with him," answered Gabriel, in a tone of sorrowful
+constraint. Then, turning to Rodin, he added: "A thousand pardons! I
+shall be ready in a moment."
+
+"What!" cried Dagobert, stupefied with amazement, "going the very
+instant we have just met? No, by my faith! you shall not go. I have
+too much to tell you, and to ask in return. We will make the journey
+together. It will be a real treat for me."
+
+"It is impossible. He is my superior, and I must obey him."
+
+"Your superior?--why, he's in citizen's dress."
+
+"He is not obliged to wear the ecclesiastical garb."
+
+"Rubbish! since he is not in uniform, and there is no provost-marshal in
+your troop, send him to the--"
+
+"Believe me, I would not hesitate a minute, if it were possible to
+remain."
+
+"I was right in disliking the phi of that man," muttered Dagobert
+between his teeth. Then he added, with an air of impatience and
+vexation: "Shall I tell him that he will much oblige us by marching off
+by himself?"
+
+"I beg you not to do so," said Gabriel; "it would be useless; I know
+my duty, and have no will but my superior's. As soon as you arrive in
+Paris, I will come and see you, as also my adopted mother, and my dear
+brother, Agricola."
+
+"Well--if it must be. I have been a soldier, and know what subordination
+is," said Dagobert, much annoyed. "One must put a good face on bad
+fortune. So, the day after to-morrow, in the Rue Brise-Miche, my boy;
+for they tell me I can be in Paris by to-morrow evening, and we set out
+almost immediately. But I say--there seems to be a strict discipline
+with you fellows!"
+
+"Yes, it is strict and severe," answered Gabriel, with a shudder, and a
+stifled sigh.
+
+"Come, shake hands--and let's say farewell for the present. After all,
+twenty-four hours will soon pass away."
+
+"Adieu! adieu!" replied the missionary, much moved, whilst he returned
+the friendly pressure of the veteran's hand.
+
+"Adieu, Gabriel!" added the orphans, sighing also, and with tears in
+their eyes.
+
+"Adieu, my sisters!" said Gabriel--and he left the room with Rodin, who
+had not lost a word or an incident of this scene.
+
+Two hours after, Dagobert and the orphans had quitted the Castle for
+Paris, not knowing that Djalma was left at Cardoville, being still
+too much injured to proceed on his journey. The half-caste, Faringhea,
+remained with the young prince, not wishing, he said, to desert a fellow
+countryman.
+
+We now conduct the reader to the Rue Brise-Miche, the residence of
+Dagobert's wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. DAGOBERT'S WIFE.
+
+The following scenes occur in Paris, on the morrow of the day when the
+shipwrecked travellers were received in Cardoville House.
+
+Nothing can be more gloomy than the aspect of the Rue Brise-Miche, one
+end of which leads into the Rue Saint-Merry, and the other into the
+little square of the Cloister, near the church. At this end, the street,
+or rather alley--for it is not more than eight feet wide--is shut in
+between immense black, muddy dilapidated walls, the excessive height of
+which excludes both air and light; hardly, during the longest days
+of the year, is the sun able to throw into it a few straggling beams;
+whilst, during the cold damps of winter, a chilling fog, which seems to
+penetrate everything, hangs constantly above the miry pavement of this
+species of oblong well.
+
+It was about eight o'clock in the evening; by the faint, reddish light
+of the street lamp, hardly visible through the haze, two men, stopping
+at the angle of one of those enormous walls, exchanged a few words
+together.
+
+"So," said one, "you understand all about it. You are to watch in the
+street, till you see them enter No. 5."
+
+"All right!" answered the other.
+
+"And when you see 'em enter so as to make quite sure of the game, go up
+to Frances Baudoin's room--"
+
+"Under the cloak of asking where the little humpbacked workwoman
+lives--the sister of that gay girl, the Queen of the Bacchanals."
+
+"Yes--and you must try and find out her address also--from her
+humpbacked sister, if possible--for it is very important. Women of her
+feather change their nests like birds, and we have lost track of her."
+
+"Make yourself easy; I will do my best with Hump, to learn where her
+sister hangs out."
+
+"And, to give you steam, I'll wait for you at the tavern opposite the
+Cloister, and we'll have a go of hot wine on your return."
+
+"I'll not refuse, for the night is deucedly cold."
+
+"Don't mention it! This morning the water friz on my sprinkling-brush,
+and I turned as stiff as a mummy in my chair at the church-door. Ah, my
+boy! a distributor of holy water is not always upon roses!"
+
+"Luckily, you have the pickings--"
+
+"Well, well--good luck to you! Don't forget the Fiver, the little
+passage next to the dyer's shop."
+
+"Yes, yes--all right!" and the two men separated.
+
+One proceeded to the Cloister Square; the other towards the further end
+of the street, where it led into the Rue Saint-Merry. This latter
+soon found the number of the house he sought--a tall, narrow building,
+having, like all the other houses in the street, a poor and wretched
+appearance. When he saw he was right, the man commenced walking
+backwards and forwards in front of the door of No. 5.
+
+If the exterior of these buildings was uninviting, the gloom and squalor
+of the interior cannot be described. The house No. 5 was, in a special
+degree, dirty and dilapidated. The water, which oozed from the wall,
+trickled down the dark and filthy staircase. On the second floor, a wisp
+of straw had been laid on the narrow landing-place, for wiping the feet
+on; but this straw, being now quite rotten, only served to augment the
+sickening odor, which arose from want of air, from damp, and from
+the putrid exhalations of the drains. The few openings, cut at rare
+intervals in the walls of the staircase, could hardly admit more than
+some faint rays of glimmering light.
+
+In this quarter, one of the most populous in Paris, such houses as
+these, poor, cheerless, and unhealthy, are generally inhabited by
+the working classes. The house in question was of the number. A dyer
+occupied the ground floor; the deleterious vapors arising from his vats
+added to the stench of the whole building. On the upper stories, several
+artisans lodged with their families, or carried on their different
+trades. Up four flights of stairs was the lodging of Frances Baudoin,
+wife of Dagobert. It consisted of one room, with a closet adjoining, and
+was now lighted by a single candle. Agricola occupied a garret in the
+roof.
+
+Old grayish paper, broken here and there by the cracks covered the crazy
+wall, against which rested the bed; scanty curtains, running upon an
+iron rod, concealed the windows; the brick floor, not polished, but
+often washed, had preserved its natural color. At one end of this room
+was a round iron stove, with a large pot for culinary purposes. On the
+wooden table, painted yellow, marbled with brown, stood a miniature
+house made of iron--a masterpiece of patience and skill, the work of
+Agricola Baudoin, Dagobert's son.
+
+A plaster crucifix hung up against the wall, surrounded by several
+branches of consecrated box-tree, and various images of saints, very
+coarsely colored, bore witness to the habits of the soldier's wife.
+Between the windows stood one of those old walnut-wood presses,
+curiously fashioned, and almost black with time; an old arm-chair,
+covered with green cotton velvet (Agricola's first present to his
+mother), a few rush bottomed chairs, and a worktable on which lay
+several bags of coarse, brown cloth, completed the furniture of this
+room, badly secured by a worm-eaten door. The adjoining closet contained
+a few kitchen and household utensils.
+
+Mean and poor as this interior may perhaps appear, it would not seem
+so to the greater number of artisans; for the bed was supplied with
+two mattresses, clean sheets, and a warm counterpane; the old-fashioned
+press contained linen; and, moreover, Dagobert's wife occupied all to
+herself a room as large as those in which numerous families, belonging
+to honest and laborious workmen, often live and sleep huddled
+together--only too happy if the boys and girls can have separate beds,
+or if the sheets and blankets are not pledged at the pawnbroker's.
+
+Frances Baudoin, seated beside the small stove, which, in the cold and
+damp weather, yielded but little warmth, was busied in preparing her son
+Agricola's evening meal.
+
+Dagobert's wife was about fifty years of age; she wore a close jacket
+of blue cotton, with white flowers on it, and a stuff petticoat; a white
+handkerchief was tied round her head, and fastened under the chin. Her
+countenance was pale and meagre, the features regular, and expressive of
+resignation and great kindness. It would have been difficult to find a
+better, a more courageous mother. With no resource but her labor, she
+had succeeded, by unwearied energy, in bringing up not only her own
+son Agricola, but also Gabriel, the poor deserted child, of whom, with
+admirable devotion, she had ventured to take charge.
+
+In her youth, she had, as it were, anticipated the strength of later
+life, by twelve years of incessant toil, rendered lucrative by the most
+violent exertions, and accompanied by such privations as made it almost
+suicidal. Then (for it was a time of splendid wages, compared to the
+present), by sleepless nights and constant labor, she contrived to earn
+about two shillings (fifty sous) a day, and with this she managed to
+educate her son and her adopted child.
+
+At the end of these twelve years, her health was ruined, and her
+strength nearly exhausted; but, at all events, her boys had wanted for
+nothing, and had received such an education as children of the people
+can obtain. About this time, M. Francois Hardy took Agricola as an
+apprentice, and Gabriel prepared to enter the priest's seminary,
+under the active patronage of M. Rodin, whose communications with the
+confessor of Frances Baudoin had become very frequent about the year
+1820.
+
+This woman (whose piety had always been excessive) was one of those
+simple natures, endowed with extreme goodness, whose self-denial
+approaches to heroism, and who devote themselves in obscurity to a life
+of martyrdom--pure and heavenly minds, in whom the instincts of the
+heart supply the place of the intellect!
+
+The only defect, or rather the necessary consequence of this extreme
+simplicity of character, was the invincible determination she displayed
+in yielding to the commands of her confessor, to whose influence she
+had now for many years been accustomed to submit. She regarded this
+influence as most venerable and sacred; no mortal power, no human
+consideration, could have prevented her from obeying it. Did any dispute
+arise on the subject, nothing could move her on this point; she opposed
+to every argument a resistance entirely free from passion--mild as her
+disposition, calm as her conscience--but, like the latter, not to
+be shaken. In a word, Frances Baudoin was one of those pure, but
+uninstructed and credulous beings, who may sometimes, in skillful and
+dangerous hands, become, without knowing it, the instruments of much
+evil.
+
+For some time past, the bad state of her health, and particularly the
+increasing weakness of her sight, had condemned her to a forced repose;
+unable to work more than two or three hours a day, she consumed the rest
+of her time at church.
+
+Frances rose from her seat, pushed the coarse bags at which she had been
+working to the further end of the table, and proceeded to lay the cloth
+for her son's supper, with maternal care and solicitude. She took from
+the press a small leathern bag, containing an old silver cup, very much
+battered, and a fork and spoon, so worn and thin, that the latter cut
+like a knife. These, her only plate (the wedding present of Dagobert)
+she rubbed and polished as well as she was able, and laid by the side of
+her son's plate. They were the most precious of her possessions, not so
+much for what little intrinsic value might attach to them, as for the
+associations they recalled; and she had often shed bitter tears, when,
+under the pressure of illness or want of employment, she had been
+compelled to carry these sacred treasures to the pawnbroker's.
+
+Frances next took, from the lower shelf of the press, a bottle of water,
+and one of wine about three-quarters full, which she also placed near
+her son's plate; she then returned to the stove, to watch the cooking of
+the supper.
+
+Though Agricola was not much later than usual, the countenance of his
+mother expressed both uneasiness and grief; one might have seen, by the
+redness of her eyes, that she had been weeping a good deal. After
+long and painful uncertainty, the poor woman had just arrived at the
+conviction that her eyesight, which had been growing weaker and weaker,
+would soon be so much impaired as to prevent her working even the two or
+three hours a day which had lately been the extent of her labors.
+
+Originally an excellent hand at her needle, she had been obliged, as
+her eyesight gradually failed her, to abandon the finer for the
+coarser sorts of work, and her earnings had necessarily diminished in
+proportion; she had at length been reduced to the necessity of making
+those coarse bags for the army, which took about four yards of sewing,
+and were paid at the rate of two sous each, she having to find her own
+thread. This work, being very hard, she could at most complete three
+such bags in a day, and her gains thus amounted to threepence (six
+sous)!
+
+It makes one shudder to think of the great number of unhappy females,
+whose strength has been so much exhausted by privations, old age, or
+sickness, that all the labor of which they are capable, hardly suffices
+to bring them in daily this miserable pittance. Thus do their gains
+diminish in exact proportion to the increasing wants which age and
+infirmity must occasion.
+
+Happily, Frances had an efficient support in her son. A first-rate
+workman, profiting by the just scale of wages adopted by M. Hardy, his
+labor brought him from four to five shillings a day--more than double
+what was gained by the workmen of many other establishments. Admitting
+therefore that his mother were to gain nothing, he could easily maintain
+both her and himself.
+
+But the poor woman, so wonderfully economical that she denied herself
+even some of the necessaries of life, had of late become ruinously
+liberal on the score of the sacristy, since she had adopted the habit
+of visiting daily the parish church. Scarcely a day passed but she had
+masses sung, or tapers burnt, either for Dagobert, from whom she had
+been so long separated, or for the salvation of her son Agricola, whom
+she considered on the high-road to perdition. Agricola had so excellent
+a heart, so loved and revered his mother, and considered her actions
+in this respect inspired by so touching a sentiment, that he never
+complained when he saw a great part of his week's wages (which he paid
+regularly over to his mother every Saturday) disappear in pious forms.
+
+Yet now and then he ventured to remark to Frances, with as much respect
+as tenderness, that it pained him to see her enduring privations
+injurious at her age, because she preferred incurring these devotional
+expenses. But what answer could he make to this excellent mother, when
+she replied with tears: "My child, 'tis for the salvation of your father
+and yours too."
+
+To dispute the efficacy of masses, would have been venturing on a
+subject which Agricola, through respect for his mother's religious
+faith, never discussed. He contented himself, therefore, with seeing her
+dispense with comforts she might have enjoyed.
+
+A discreet tap was heard at the door. "Come in," said Frances. The
+person came in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SISTER OF THE BACCHANAL QUEEN.
+
+The person who now entered was a girl of about eighteen, short, and very
+much deformed. Though not exactly a hunchback, her spine was curved; her
+breast was sunken, and her head deeply set in the shoulders. Her face
+was regular, but long, thin, very pale, and pitted with the small pox;
+yet it expressed great sweetness and melancholy. Her blue eyes beamed
+with kindness and intelligence. By a strange freak of nature, the
+handsomest woman would have been proud of the magnificent hair twisted
+in a coarse net at the back of her head. She held an old basket in her
+hand. Though miserably clad, the care and neatness of her dress revealed
+a powerful struggle with her poverty. Notwithstanding the cold, she
+wore a scanty frock made of print of an indefinable color, spotted with
+white; but it had been so often washed, that its primitive design and
+color had long since disappeared. In her resigned, yet suffering face,
+might be read a long familiarity with every form of suffering, every
+description of taunting. From her birth, ridicule had ever pursued her.
+We have said that she was very deformed, and she was vulgarly called
+"Mother Bunch." Indeed it was so usual to give her this grotesque name,
+which every moment reminded her of her infirmity, that Frances and
+Agricola, though they felt as much compassion as other people showed
+contempt for her, never called her, however, by any other name.
+
+Mother Bunch, as we shall therefore call her in future, was born in the
+house in which Dagobert's wife had resided for more than twenty years;
+and she had, as it were, been brought up with Agricola and Gabriel.
+
+There are wretches fatally doomed to misery. Mother Bunch had a very
+pretty sister, on whom Perrine Soliveau, their common mother, the widow
+of a ruined tradesman, had concentrated all her affection, while she
+treated her deformed child with contempt and unkindness. The latter
+would often come, weeping, to Frances, on this account, who tried to
+console her, and in the long evenings amused her by teaching her to read
+and sew. Accustomed to pity her by their mother's example, instead of
+imitating other children, who always taunted and sometimes even beat
+her, Agricola and Gabriel liked her, and used to protect and defend her.
+
+She was about fifteen, and her sister Cephyse was about seventeen,
+when their mother died, leaving them both in utter poverty. Cephyse was
+intelligent, active, clever, but different to her sister; she had the
+lively, alert, hoydenish character which requires air, exercise and
+pleasures--a good girl enough, but foolishly spoiled by her mother.
+Cephyse, listening at first to Frances's good advice, resigned herself
+to her lot; and, having learnt to sew, worked like her sister, for
+about a year. But, unable to endure any longer the bitter privations her
+insignificant earnings, notwithstanding her incessant toil, exposed
+her to--privations which often bordered on starvation--Cephyse, young,
+pretty, of warm temperament, and surrounded by brilliant offers and
+seductions--brilliant, indeed, for her, since they offered food to
+satisfy her hunger, shelter from the cold, and decent raiment, without
+being obliged to work fifteen hours a day in an obscure and unwholesome
+hovel--Cephyse listened to the vows of a young lawyer's clerk, who
+forsook her soon after. She formed a connection with another clerk, whom
+she (instructed by the examples set her), forsook in turn for a bagman,
+whom she afterwards cast off for other favorites. In a word, what with
+changing and being forsaken, Cephyse, in the course of one or two years,
+was the idol of a set of grisettes, students and clerks; and acquired
+such a reputation at the balls on the Hampstead Heaths of Paris, by her
+decision of character, original turn of mind, and unwearied ardor in all
+kinds of pleasures, and especially her wild, noisy gayety, that she was
+termed the Bacchanal Queen, and proved herself in every way worthy of
+this bewildering royalty.
+
+From that time poor Mother Bunch only heard of her sister at rare
+intervals. She still mourned for her, and continued to toil hard to
+gain her three-and-six a week. The unfortunate girl, having been taught
+sewing by Frances, made coarse shirts for the common people and the
+army. For these she received half-a-crown a dozen. They had to be
+hemmed, stitched, provided with collars and wristbands, buttons, and
+button holes; and at the most, when at work twelve and fifteen hours a
+day, she rarely succeeded in turning out more than fourteen or sixteen
+shirts a week--an excessive amount of toil that brought her in about
+three shillings and fourpence a week. And the case of this poor girl
+was neither accidental nor uncommon. And this, because the remuneration
+given for women's work is an example of revolting injustice and savage
+barbarism. They are paid not half as much as men who are employed at the
+needle: such as tailors, and makers of gloves, or waistcoats, etc.--no
+doubt because women can work as well as men--because they are more weak
+and delicate--and because their need may be twofold as great when they
+become mothers.
+
+Well, Mother Bunch fagged on, with three-and-four a week. That is to
+say, toiling hard for twelve or fifteen hours every day; she succeeded
+in keeping herself alive, in spite of exposure to hunger, cold, and
+poverty--so numerous were her privations. Privations? No! The word
+privation expresses but weakly that constant and terrible want of all
+that is necessary to preserve the existence God gives; namely, wholesome
+air and shelter, sufficient and nourishing food and warm clothing.
+Mortification would be a better word to describe that total want of all
+that is essentially vital, which a justly organized state of society
+ought--yes--ought necessarily to bestow on every active, honest
+workman and workwoman, since civilization has dispossessed them of all
+territorial right, and left them no other patrimony than their hands.
+
+The savage does not enjoy the advantage of civilization; but he has, at
+least, the beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, the fish of the
+sea, and the fruits of the earth, to feed him, and his native woods for
+shelter and for fuel. The civilized man, disinherited of these gifts,
+considering the rights of property as sacred, may, in return for his
+hard daily labor, which enriches his country, demand wages that will
+enable him to live in the enjoyment of health: nothing more, and
+nothing less. For is it living, to drag along on the extreme edge which
+separates life from the grave, and even there continually struggle
+against cold, hunger, and disease? And to show how far the mortification
+which society imposes thus inexorably on its millions of honest,
+industrious laborers (by its careless disregard of all the questions
+which concern the just remuneration of labor), may extend, we will
+describe how this poor girl contrived to live on three shillings and
+sixpence a week.
+
+Society, perhaps, may then feel its obligation to so many unfortunate
+wretches for supporting, with resignation, the horrible existence which
+leaves them just sufficient life to feel the worst pangs of humanity.
+Yes: to live at such a price is virtue! Yes, society thus organized,
+whether it tolerates or imposes so much misery, loses all right to
+blame the poor wretches who sell themselves not through debauchery, but
+because they are cold and famishing. This poor girl spent her wages as
+follows:
+
+    Six pounds of bread, second quality........0 8 1/2
+    Four pails of water................0 2
+    Lard or dripping (butter being out of the question)0 5
+    Coarse salt....................0 0 3/4
+    A bushel of charcoal...............0 4
+    A quart of dried vegetables............0 3
+    Three quarts of potatoes..............0 2
+    Dips........................0 3 1/4
+    Thread and needles.................0 2 1/2
+                                                      ______
+                                                       2 7
+
+To save charcoal, Mother Bunch prepared soup only two or three times a
+week at most, on a stove that stood on the landing of the fourth story.
+On other days she ate it cold. There remained nine or ten pence a week
+for clothes and lodging. By rare good fortune, her situation was in one
+respect an exception to the lot of many others. Agricola, that he
+might not wound her delicacy, had come to a secret arrangement with the
+housekeeper, and hired a garret for her, just large enough to hold a
+small bed, a chair, and a table; for which the sempstress had to pay
+five shillings a year. But Agricola, in fulfilment of his agreement with
+the porter, paid the balance, to make up the actual rent of the
+garret, which was twelve and sixpence. The poor girl had thus about
+eighteenpence a month left for her other expenses. But many workwomen,
+whose position is less fortunate than hers, since they have neither
+home nor family, buy a piece of bread and some other food to keep them
+through the day; and at night patronize the "twopenny rope," one with
+another, in a wretched room containing five or six beds, some of which
+are always engaged by men, as male lodgers are by far the most abundant.
+Yes; and in spite of the disgust that a poor and virtuous girl must feel
+at this arrangement, she must submit to it; for a lodging-house keeper
+cannot have separate rooms for females. To furnish a room, however
+meanly, the poor workwoman must possess three or four shillings in ready
+money. But how save this sum, out of weekly earnings of a couple of
+florins, which are scarcely sufficient to keep her from starving, and
+are still less sufficient to clothe her? No! no! The poor wretch must
+resign herself to this repugnant cohabitation; and so, gradually, the
+instinct of modesty becomes weakened; the natural sentiment of chastity,
+that saved her from the "gay life," becomes extinct; vice appears to be
+the only means of improving her intolerable condition; she yields;
+and the first "man made of money," who can afford a governess for his
+children, cries out against the depravity of the lower orders! And
+yet, painful as the condition of the working woman is, it is relatively
+fortunate. Should work fail her for one day, two days, what then? Should
+sickness come--sickness almost always occasioned by unwholesome food,
+want of fresh air, necessary attention, and good rest; sickness, often
+so enervating as to render work impossible; though not so dangerous
+as to procure the sufferer a bed in an hospital--what becomes of the
+hapless wretches then? The mind hesitates, and shrinks from dwelling on
+such gloomy pictures.
+
+This inadequacy of wages, one terrible source only of so many evils, and
+often of so many vices, is general, especially among women; and, again
+this is not private wretchedness, but the wretchedness which afflicts
+whole classes, the type of which we endeavor to develop in Mother Bunch.
+It exhibits the moral and physical condition of thousands of human
+creatures in Paris, obliged to subsist on a scanty four shillings a
+week. This poor workwoman, then, notwithstanding the advantages she
+unknowingly enjoyed through Agricola's generosity, lived very miserably;
+and her health, already shattered, was now wholly undermined by these
+constant hardships. Yet, with extreme delicacy, though ignorant of
+the little sacrifice already made for her by Agricola, Mother Bunch
+pretended she earned more than she really did, in order to avoid offers
+of service which it would have pained her to accept, because she knew
+the limited means of Frances and her son, and because it would have
+wounded her natural delicacy, rendered still more sensitive by so many
+sorrows and humiliations.
+
+But, singular as it may appear, this deformed body contained a loving
+and generous soul--a mind cultivated even to poetry; and let us add,
+that this was owing to the example of Agricola Baudoin, with whom she
+had been brought up, and who had naturally the gift. This poor girl was
+the first confidant to whom our young mechanic imparted his literary
+essays; and when he told her of the charm and extreme relief he found
+in poetic reverie, after a day of hard toil, the workwoman, gifted with
+strong natural intelligence, felt, in her turn, how great a resource
+this would be to her in her lonely and despised condition.
+
+One day, to Agricola's great surprise, who had just read some verses to
+her, the sewing-girl, with smiles and blushes, timidly communicated to
+him also a poetic composition. Her verses wanted rhythm and harmony,
+perhaps; but they were simple and affecting, as a non-envenomed
+complaint entrusted to a friendly hearer. From that day Agricola and she
+held frequent consultations; they gave each other mutual encouragement:
+but with this exception, no one else knew anything of the girl's
+poetical essays, whose mild timidity made her often pass for a person of
+weak intellect. This soul must have been great and beautiful, for in all
+her unlettered strains there was not a word of murmuring respecting her
+hard lot: her note was sad, but gentle--desponding, but resigned; it
+was especially the language of deep tenderness--of mournful sympathy--of
+angelic charity for all poor creatures consigned, like her, to bear
+the double burden of poverty and deformity. Yet she often expressed
+a sincere free-spoken admiration of beauty, free from all envy or
+bitterness; she admired beauty as she admired the sun. But, alas! many
+were the verses of hers that Agricola had never seen, and which he was
+never to see.
+
+The young mechanic, though not strictly handsome, had an open masculine
+face; was as courageous as kind; possessed a noble, glowing, generous
+heart, a superior mind, and a frank, pleasing gayety of spirits. The
+young girl, brought up with him, loved him as an unfortunate creature
+can love, who, dreading cruel ridicule, is obliged to hide her affection
+in the depths of her heart, and adopt reserve and deep dissimulation.
+She did not seek to combat her love; to what purpose should she do
+so? No one would ever know it. Her well known sisterly affection for
+Agricola explained the interest she took in all that concerned him; so
+that no one was surprised at the extreme grief of the young workwoman,
+when, in 1830, Agricola, after fighting intrepidly for the people's
+flag, was brought bleeding home to his mother. Dagobert's son, deceived,
+like others, on this point, had never suspected, and was destined never
+to suspect, this love for him.
+
+Such was the poorly-clad girl who entered the room in which Frances was
+preparing her son's supper.
+
+"Is it you, my poor love," said she; "I have not seen you since morning:
+have you been ill? Come and kiss me."
+
+The young girl kissed Agricola's mother, and replied: "I was very busy
+about some work, mother; I did not wish to lose a moment; I have only
+just finished it. I am going down to fetch some charcoal--do you want
+anything while I'm out?"
+
+"No, no, my child, thank you. But I am very uneasy. It is half-past
+eight, and Agricola is not come home." Then she added, after a sigh: "He
+kills himself with work for me. Ah, I am very unhappy, my girl; my sight
+is quite going. In a quarter of an hour after I begin working, I cannot
+see at all--not even to sew sacks. The idea of being a burden to my son
+drives me distracted."
+
+"Oh, don't, ma'am, if Agricola heard you say that--"
+
+"I know the poor boy thinks of nothing but me, and that augments my
+vexation. Only I think that rather than leave me, he gives up the
+advantages that his fellow-workmen enjoy at Hardy's, his good and worthy
+master--instead of living in this dull garret, where it is scarcely
+light at noon, he would enjoy, like the other workmen, at very little
+expense, a good light room, warm in winter, airy in summer, with a view
+of the garden. And he is so fond of trees! not to mention that this
+place is so far from his work, that it is quite a toil to him to get to
+it."
+
+"Oh, when he embraces you he forgets his fatigue, Mrs. Baudoin," said
+Mother Bunch; "besides, he knows how you cling to the house in which he
+was born. M. Hardy offered to settle you at Plessy with Agricola, in the
+building put up for the workmen."
+
+"Yes, my child; but then I must give up church. I can't do that."
+
+"But--be easy, I hear him," said the hunchback, blushing.
+
+A sonorous, joyous voice was heard singing on the stairs.
+
+"At least, I'll not let him see that I have been crying," said the good
+mother, drying her tears. "This is the only moment of rest and ease from
+toil he has--I must not make it sad to him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. AGRICOLA BAUDOIN.
+
+Our blacksmith poet, a tall young man, about four-and-twenty years of
+age, was alert and robust, with ruddy complexion, dark hair and eyes,
+and aquiline nose, and an open, expressive countenance. His resemblance
+to Dagobert was rendered more striking by the thick brown moustache
+which he wore according to the fashion; and a sharp-pointed imperial
+covered his chin. His cheeks, however, were shaven, Olive color
+velveteen trousers, a blue blouse, bronzed by the forge smoke, a black
+cravat, tied carelessly round his muscular neck, a cloth cap with
+a narrow vizor, composed his dress. The only thing which contrasted
+singularly with his working habiliments was a handsome purple flower,
+with silvery pistils, which he held in his hand.
+
+"Good-evening, mother," said he, as he came to kiss Frances immediately.
+
+Then, with a friendly nod, he added, "Good-evening, Mother Bunch."
+
+"You are very late, my child," said Frances, approaching the little
+stove on which her son's simple meal was simmering; "I was getting very
+anxious."
+
+"Anxious about me, or about my supper, dear mother?" said Agricola,
+gayly. "The deuce! you won't excuse me for keeping the nice little
+supper waiting that you get ready for me, for fear it should be spoilt,
+eh?"
+
+So saying, the blacksmith tried to kiss his mother again.
+
+"Have done, you naughty boy; you'll make me upset the pan."
+
+"That would be a pity, mother; for it smells delightfully. Let's see
+what it is."
+
+"Wait half a moment."
+
+"I'll swear, now, you have some of the fried potatoes and bacon I'm so
+fond of."
+
+"Being Saturday, of course!" said Frances, in a tone of mild reproach.
+
+"True," rejoined Agricola, exchanging a smile of innocent cunning with
+Mother Bunch; "but, talking of Saturday, mother, here are my wages."
+
+"Thank ye, child; put the money in the cupboard."
+
+"Yes, mother!"
+
+"Oh, dear!" cried the young sempstress, just as Agricola was about
+to put away the money, "what a handsome flower you have in your hand,
+Agricola. I never saw a finer. In winter, too! Do look at it, Mrs.
+Baudoin."
+
+"See there, mother," said Agricola, taking the flower to her; "look
+at it, admire it, and especially smell it. You can't have a sweeter
+perfume; a blending of vanilla and orange blossom."
+
+"Indeed, it does smell nice, child. Goodness! how handsome!" said
+Frances, admiringly; "where did you find it?"
+
+"Find it, my good mother!" repeated Agricola, smilingly: "do you think
+folks pick up such things between the Barriere du Maine and the Rue
+Brise-Miche?"
+
+"How did you get it then?" inquired the sewing girl, sharing in
+Frances's curiosity.
+
+"Oh! you would like to know? Well, I'll satisfy you, and explain why
+I came home so late; for something else detained me. It has been an
+evening of adventures, I promise you. I was hurrying home, when I heard
+a low, gentle barking at the corner of the Rue de Babylone; it was just
+about dusk, and I could see a very pretty little dog, scarce bigger than
+my fist, black and tan, with long, silky hair, and ears that covered its
+paws."
+
+"Lost, poor thing, I warrant," said Frances.
+
+"You've hit it. I took up the poor thing, and it began to lick my hands.
+Round its neck was a red satin ribbon, tied in a large bow; but as that
+did not bear the master's name, I looked beneath it, and saw a small
+collar, made of a gold plate and small gold chains. So I took a Lucifer
+match from my 'bacco-box, and striking a light, I read, 'FRISKY belongs
+to Hon. Miss Adrienne de Cardoville, No. 7, Rue de Babylone.'"
+
+"Why, you were just in the street," said Mother Bunch.
+
+"Just so. Taking the little animal under my arm, I looked about me till
+I came to a long garden wall, which seemed to have no end, and found a
+small door of a summer-house, belonging no doubt to the large mansion at
+the other end of the park; for this garden looked just like a park. So,
+looking up I saw 'No. 7,' newly painted over a little door with a grated
+slide. I rang; and in a few minutes, spent, no doubt, in observing me
+through the bars (for I am sure I saw a pair of eyes peeping through),
+the gate opened. And now, you'll not believe a word I have to say."
+
+"Why not, my child?"
+
+"Because it seems like a fairy tale."
+
+"A fairy tale?" said Mother Bunch, as if she was really her namesake of
+elfish history.
+
+"For, all the world it does. I am quite astounded, even now, at my
+adventure; it is like the remembrance of a dream."
+
+"Well, let us have it," said the worthy mother, so deeply interested
+that she did not perceive her son's supper was beginning to burn.
+
+"First," said the blacksmith, smiling at the curiosity he had excited,
+"a young lady opened the door to me, but so lovely, so beautifully
+and gracefully dressed, that you would have taken her for a beautiful
+portrait of past times. Before I could say a word, she exclaimed, 'Ah!
+dear me, sir, you have brought back Frisky; how happy Miss Adrienne
+will be! Come, pray come in instantly; she would so regret not having
+an opportunity to thank you in person!' And without giving me time to
+reply, she beckoned me to follow her. Oh, dear mother, it is quite out
+of my power to tell you, the magnificence I saw, as I passed through
+a small saloon, partially lighted, and full of perfume! It would be
+impossible. The young woman walked too quickly. A door opened,--Oh, such
+a sight! I was so dazzled I can remember nothing but a great glare of
+gold and light, crystal and flowers; and, amidst all this brilliancy,
+a young lady of extreme beauty--ideal beauty; but she had red hair, or
+rather hair shining like gold! Oh! it was charming to look at! I never
+saw such hair before. She had black eyes, ruddy lips, and her skin
+seemed white as snow. This is all I can recollect: for, as I said
+before, I was so dazzled, I seemed to be looking through a veil.
+'Madame,' said the young woman, whom I never should have taken for
+a lady's-maid, she was dressed so elegantly, 'here is Frisky. This
+gentleman found him, and brought him back.' 'Oh, sir,' said the young
+lady with the golden hair, in a sweet silvery voice, 'what thanks I owe
+you! I am foolishly attached to Frisky.' Then, no doubt, concluding from
+my dress that she ought to thank me in some other way than by words, she
+took up a silk purse, and said to me, though I must confess with some
+hesitation--'No doubt, sir, it gave you some trouble to bring my pet
+back. You have, perhaps, lost some valuable time--allow me--' She held
+forth her purse."
+
+"Oh, Agricola," said Mother Bunch, sadly; "how people may be deceived!"
+
+"Hear the end, and you will perhaps forgive the young lady. Seeing by
+my looks that the offer of the purse hurt me, she took a magnificent
+porcelain vase that contained this flower, and, addressing me in a tone
+full of grace and kindness, that left me room to guess that she was
+vexed at having wounded me, she said--'At least, sir, you will accept
+this flower.'"
+
+"You are right, Agricola," said the girl, smiling sadly; "an involuntary
+error could not be repaired in a nicer way.
+
+"Worthy young lady," said Frances, wiping her eyes; "how well she
+understood my Agricola!"
+
+"Did she not, mother? But just as I was taking the flower, without
+daring to raise my eyes (for, notwithstanding the young lady's kind
+manner, there was something very imposing about her) another handsome
+girl, tall and dark, and dressed to the top of fashion, came in and said
+to the red-haired young lady, 'He is here, Madame.' She immediately rose
+and said to me, 'A thousand pardons, sir. I shall never forget that I
+am indebted to you for a moment of much pleasure. Pray remember, on all
+occasions, my address and name--Adrienne de Cardoville.' Thereupon she
+disappeared. I could not find a word to say in reply. The same young
+woman showed me to the door, and curtseyed to me very politely. And
+there I stood in the Rue de Babylone, as dazzled and astonished as if I
+had come out of an enchanted palace."
+
+"Indeed, my child, it is like a fairy tale. Is it not, my poor girl?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Mother Bunch, in an absent manner that Agricola did
+not observe.
+
+"What affected me most," rejoined Agricola, "was, that the young lady,
+on seeing her little dog, did not forget me for it, as many would
+have done in her place, and took no notice of it before me. That shows
+delicacy and feeling, does it not? Indeed, I believe this young lady to
+be so kind and generous, that I should not hesitate to have recourse to
+her in any important case."
+
+"Yes, you are right," replied the sempstress, more and more absent.
+
+The poor girl suffered extremely. She felt no jealousy, no hatred,
+towards this young stranger, who, from her beauty, wealth, and delicacy,
+seemed to belong to a sphere too splendid and elevated to be even
+within the reach of a work, girl's vision; but, making an involuntary
+comparison of this fortunate condition with her own, the poor thing had
+never felt more cruelly her deformity and poverty. Yet such were the
+humility and gentle resignation of this noble creature, that the only
+thing which made her feel ill-disposed towards Adrienne de Cardoville
+was the offer of the purse to Agricola; but then the charming way in
+which the young lady had atoned for her error, affected the sempstress
+deeply. Yet her heart was ready to break. She could not restrain her
+tears as she contemplated the magnificent flower--so rich in color and
+perfume, which, given by a charming hand, was doubtless very precious to
+Agricola.
+
+"Now, mother," resumed the young man smilingly, and unaware of the
+painful emotion of the other bystander, "you have had the cream of my
+adventures first. I have told you one of the causes of my delay; and now
+for the other. Just now, as I was coming in, I met the dyer at the foot
+of the stairs, his arms a beautiful pea-green. Stopping me he said, with
+an air full of importance, that he thought he had seen a chap sneaking
+about the house like a spy, 'Well, what is that to you, Daddy Loriot?'
+said I: 'are you afraid he will nose out the way to make the beautiful
+green, with which you are dyed up to the very elbows?'"
+
+"But who could that man be, Agricola?" said Frances.
+
+"On my word, mother, I don't know and scarcely care; I tried to persuade
+Daddy Loriot, who chatters like a magpie, to return to his cellar, since
+it could signify as little to him as to me, whether a spy watched him
+or not." So saying, Agricola went and placed the little leathern sack,
+containing his wages, on a shelf, in the cupboard.
+
+As Frances put down the saucepan on the end of the table, Mother Bunch,
+recovering from her reverie, filled a basin with water, and, taking
+it to the blacksmith, said to him in a gentle tone-"Agricola--for your
+hands."
+
+"Thank you, little sister. How kind you are!" Then with a most
+unaffected gesture and tone, he added, "There is my fine flower for your
+trouble."
+
+"Do you give it me?" cried the sempstress, with emotion, while a vivid
+blush colored her pale and interesting face. "Do you give me this
+handsome flower, which a lovely rich young lady so kindly and graciously
+gave you?" And the poor thing repeated, with growing astonishment, "Do
+you give it to me?"
+
+"What the deuce should I do with it? Wear it on my heart, have it set as
+a pin?" said Agricola, smiling. "It is true I was very much impressed by
+the charming way in which the young lady thanked me. I am delighted to
+think I found her little dog, and very happy to be able to give you this
+flower, since it pleases you. You see the day has been a happy one."
+
+While Mother Bunch, trembling with pleasure, emotion, and surprise, took
+the flower, the young blacksmith washed his hands, so black with smoke
+and steel filings that the water became dark in an instant. Agricola,
+pointing out this change to the sempstress, said to her in a whisper,
+laughing,-"Here's cheap ink for us paper-stainers! I finished some
+verses yesterday, which I am rather satisfied with. I will read them to
+you."
+
+With this, Agricola wiped his hands naturally on the front of his
+blouse, while Mother Bunch replaced the basin on the chest of drawers,
+and laid the flower against the side of it.
+
+"Can't you ask for a towel," said Frances, shrugging her shoulders,
+"instead of wiping your hands on your blouse?"
+
+"After being scorched all day long at the forge, it will be all the
+better for a little cooling to-night, won't it? Am I disobedient,
+mother? Scold me, then, if you dare! Come, let us see you."
+
+Frances made no reply; but, placing her hands on either side of her
+son's head, so beautiful in its candor, resolution and intelligence, she
+surveyed him for a moment with maternal pride, and kissed him repeatedly
+on the forehead.
+
+"Come," said she, "sit down: you stand all day at your forge, and it is
+late."
+
+"So,--your arm-chair again!" said Agricola.--"Our usual quarrel every
+evening--take it away, I shall be quite as much at ease on another."
+
+"No, no! You ought at least to rest after your hard toil."
+
+"What tyranny!" said Agricola gayly, sitting down. "Well, I preach like
+a good apostle; but I am quite at ease in your arm-chair, after all.
+Since I sat down on the throne in the Tuileries, I have never had a
+better seat."
+
+Frances Baudoin, standing on one side of the table, cut a slice of bread
+for her son, while Mother Bunch, on the other, filled his silver mug.
+There was something affecting in the attentive eagerness of the two
+excellent creatures, for him whom they loved so tenderly.
+
+"Won't you sup with me?" said Agricola to the girl.
+
+"Thank you, Agricola," replied the sempstress, looking down, "I have
+only just dined."
+
+"Oh, I only ask you for form's sake--you have your whims--we can never
+prevail on you to eat with us--just like mother; she prefers dining all
+alone; and in that way she deprives herself without my knowing it."
+
+"Goodness, child! It is better for my health to dine early. Well, do you
+find it nice?"
+
+"Nice!--call it excellent! Stockfish and parsnips. Oh, I am very fond of
+stockfish; I should have been born a Newfoundland fisherman."
+
+This worthy lad, on the contrary, was but poorly refreshed, after a hard
+day's toil, with this paltry stew,--a little burnt as it had been, too,
+during his story; but he knew he pleased his mother by observing the
+fast without complaining. He affected to enjoy his meal; and the good
+woman accordingly observed with satisfaction:
+
+"Oh, I see you like it, my dear boy; Friday and Saturday next we'll have
+some more."
+
+"Thank you, mother,--only not two days together. One gets tired
+of luxuries, you know! And now, let us talk of what we shall do
+to-morrow--Sunday. We must be very merry, for the last few days you
+seem very sad, dear mother, and I can't make it out--I fancy you are not
+satisfied with me."
+
+"Oh, my dear child!--you--the pattern of--"
+
+"Well, well! Prove to me that you are happy, then, by taking a little
+amusement. Perhaps you will do us the honor of accompanying us, as you
+did last time," added Agricola, bowing to Mother Bunch.
+
+The latter blushed and looked down; her face assumed an expression of
+bitter grief, and she made no reply.
+
+"I have the prayers to attend all day, you know, my dear child," said
+Frances to her son.
+
+"Well, in the evening, then? I don't propose the theatre; but they say
+there is a conjurer to be seen whose tricks are very amusing.
+
+"I am obliged to you, my son; but that is a kind of theatre."
+
+"Dear mother, this is unreasonable!"
+
+"My dear child, do I ever hinder others from doing what they like?"
+
+"True, dear mother; forgive me. Well, then, if it should be fine, we
+will simply take a walk with Mother Bunch on the Boulevards. It is
+nearly three months since she went out with us; and she never goes out
+without us."
+
+"No, no; go alone, my child. Enjoy your Sunday, 'tis little enough."
+
+"You know very well, Agricola," said the sempstress, blushing up to the
+eyes, "that I ought not to go out with you and your mother again."
+
+"Why not, madame? May I ask, without impropriety, the cause of this
+refusal?" said Agricola gayly.
+
+The poor girl smiled sadly, and replied, "Because I will not expose you
+to a quarrel on my account, Agricola."
+
+"Forgive me," said Agricola, in a tone of sincere grief, and he struck
+his forehead vexedly.
+
+To this Mother Bunch alluded sometimes, but very rarely, for she
+observed punctilious discretion. The girl had gone out with Agricola and
+his mother. Such occasions were, indeed, holidays for her. Many days and
+nights had she toiled hard to procure a decent bonnet and shawl, that
+she might not do discredit to her friends. The five or six days of
+holidays, thus spent arm in arm with him whom she adored in secret,
+formed the sum of her happy days.
+
+Taking their last walk, a coarse, vulgar man elbowed her so rudely
+that the poor girl could not refrain from a cry of terror, and the man
+retorted it by saying,-"What are you rolling your hump in my way for,
+stoopid?"
+
+Agricola, like his father, had the patience which force and courage give
+to the truly brave; but he was extremely quick when it became necessary
+to avenge an insult. Irritated at the vulgarity of this man, Agricola
+left his mother's arm to inflict on the brute, who was of his own age,
+size, and force, two vigorous blows, such as the powerful arm and huge
+fist of a blacksmith never before inflicted on human face. The villain
+attempted to return it, and Agricola repeated the correction, to the
+amusement of the crowd, and the fellow slunk away amidst a deluge of
+hisses. This adventure made Mother Bunch say she would not go out with
+Agricola again, in order to save him any occasion of quarrel. We may
+conceive the blacksmith's regret at having thus unwittingly revived the
+memory of this circumstance,--more painful, alas! for Mother Bunch
+than Agricola could imagine, for she loved him passionately, and her
+infirmity had been the cause of that quarrel. Notwithstanding his
+strength and resolution, Agricola was childishly sensitive; and,
+thinking how painful that thought must be to the poor girl, a large tear
+filled his eyes, and, holding out his hands, he said, in a brotherly
+tone, "Forgive my heedlessness! Come, kiss me." And he gave her thin,
+pale cheeks two hearty kisses.
+
+The poor girl's lips turned pale at this cordial caress; and her heart
+beat so violently that she was obliged to lean against the corner of the
+table.
+
+"Come, you forgive me, do you not?" said Agricola.
+
+"Yes! yes!" she said, trying to subdue her emotion; "but the
+recollection of that quarrel pains me--I was so alarmed on your account;
+if the crowd had sided with that man!"
+
+"Alas!" said Frances, coming to the sewing-girl's relief, without
+knowing it, "I was never so afraid in all my life!"
+
+"Oh, mother," rejoined Agricola, trying to change a conversation which
+had now become disagreeable for the sempstress, "for the wife of a horse
+grenadier of the Imperial Guard, you have not much courage. Oh, my brave
+father; I can't believe he is really coming! The very thought turns me
+topsy-turvy!"
+
+"Heaven grant he may come," said Frances, with a sigh.
+
+"God grant it, mother. He will grant it, I should think. Lord knows, you
+have had masses enough said for his return."
+
+"Agricola, my child," said Frances, interrupting her son, and shaking
+her head sadly, "do not speak in that way. Besides, you are talking of
+your father."
+
+"Well, I'm in for it this evening. 'Tis your turn now; positively, I am
+growing stupid, or going crazy. Forgive me, mother! forgive! That's the
+only word I can get out to-night. You know that, when I do let out on
+certain subjects, it is because I can't help it; for I know well the
+pain it gives you."
+
+"You do not offend me, my poor, dear, misguided boy."
+
+"It comes to the same thing; and there is nothing so bad as to offend
+one's mother; and, with respect to what I said about father's return, I
+do not see that we have any cause to doubt it."
+
+"But we have not heard from him for four months."
+
+"You know, mother, in his letter--that is, in the letter which he
+dictated (for you remember that, with the candor of an old soldier,
+he told us that, if he could read tolerably well, he could not write);
+well, in that letter he said we were not to be anxious about him; that
+he expected to be in Paris about the end of January, and would send us
+word, three or four days before, by what road he expected to arrive,
+that I might go and meet him."
+
+"True, my child; and February is come, and no news yet."
+
+"The greater reason why we should wait patiently. But I'll tell you
+more: I should not be surprised if our good Gabriel were to come back
+about the same time. His last letter from America makes me hope so. What
+pleasure, mother, should all the family be together!"
+
+"Oh, yes, my child! It would be a happy day for me."
+
+"And that day will soon come, trust me."
+
+"Do you remember your father, Agricola?" inquired Mother Bunch.
+
+"To tell the truth, I remember most his great grenadier's shako and
+moustache, which used to frighten me so, that nothing but the red ribbon
+of his cross of honor, on the white facings of his uniform, and the
+shining handle of his sabre, could pacify me; could it, mother? But what
+is the matter? You are weeping!"
+
+"Alas! poor Baudoin! What he must suffer at being separated from us at
+his age--sixty and past! Alas! my child, my heart breaks, when I think
+that he comes home only to change one kind of poverty for another."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Alas! I earn nothing now."
+
+"Why, what's become of me? Isn't there a room here for you and for him;
+and a table for you too? Only, my good mother, since we are talking of
+domestic affairs," added the blacksmith, imparting increased tenderness
+to his tone, that he might not shock his mother, "when he and Gabriel
+come home, you won't want to have any more masses said, and tapers
+burned for them, will you? Well, that saving will enable father to have
+tobacco to smoke, and his bottle of wine every day. Then, on Sundays, we
+will take a nice dinner at the eating-house."
+
+A knocking at the door disturbed Agricola.
+
+"Come in," said he. Instead of doing so, some one half-opened the
+door, and, thrusting in an arm of a pea-green color, made signs to the
+blacksmith.
+
+"'Tis old Loriot, the pattern of dyers," said Agricola; "come in, Daddy,
+no ceremony."
+
+"Impossible, my lad; I am dripping with dye from head to foot; I should
+cover missus's floor with green."
+
+"So much the better. It will remind me of the fields I like so much."
+
+"Without joking, Agricola, I must speak to you immediately."
+
+"About the spy, eh? Oh, be easy; what's he to us?"
+
+"No; I think he's gone; at any rate, the fog is so thick I can't see
+him. But that's not it--come, come quickly! It is very important," said
+the dyer, with a mysterious look; "and only concerns you."
+
+"Me, only?" said Agricola, with surprise. "What can it be.
+
+"Go and see, my child," said Frances.
+
+"Yes, mother; but the deuce take me if I can make it out."
+
+And the blacksmith left the room, leaving his mother with Mother Bunch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RETURN.
+
+In five minutes Agricola returned; his face was pale and agitated--his
+eyes glistened with tears, and his hands trembled; but his countenance
+expressed extraordinary happiness and emotion. He stood at the door for
+a moment, as if too much affected to accost his mother.
+
+Frances's sight was so bad that she did not immediately perceive the
+change her son's countenance had undergone.
+
+"Well, my child--what is it?" she inquired.
+
+Before the blacksmith could reply, Mother Bunch, who had more
+discernment, exclaimed: "Goodness, Agricola--how pale you are! Whatever
+is the matter?"
+
+"Mother," said the artisan, hastening to Frances, without replying
+to the sempstress,--"mother, expect news that will astonish you; but
+promise me you will be calm."
+
+"What do you mean? How you tremble! Look at me! Mother Bunch was
+right--you are quite pale."
+
+"My kind mother!" and Agricola, kneeling before Frances, took both her
+hands in his--"you must--you do not know,--but--"
+
+The blacksmith could not go on. Tears of joy interrupted his speech.
+
+"You weep, my dear child! Your tears alarm me. 'What is the matter?--you
+terrify me!"
+
+"Oh, no, I would not terrify you; on the contrary," said Agricola,
+drying his eyes--"you will be so happy. But, again, you must try and
+command your feelings, for too much joy is as hurtful as too much
+grief."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Did I not say true, when I said he would come?"
+
+"Father!" cried Frances. She rose from her seat; but her surprise and
+emotion were so great that she put one hand to her heart to still its
+beating, and then she felt her strength fail. Her son sustained her, and
+assisted her to sit down.
+
+Mother Bunch, till now, had stood discreetly apart, witnessing from a
+distance the scene which completely engrossed Agricola and his mother.
+But she now drew near timidly, thinking she might be useful; for Frances
+changed color more and more.
+
+"Come, courage, mother," said the blacksmith; "now the shock is over,
+you have only to enjoy the pleasure of seeing my father."
+
+"My poor man! after eighteen years' absence. Oh, I cannot believe it,"
+said Frances, bursting into tears. "Is it true? Is it, indeed, true?"
+
+"So true, that if you will promise me to keep as calm as you can, I will
+tell you when you may see him."
+
+"Soon--may I not?"
+
+"Yes; soon."
+
+"But when will he arrive?"
+
+"He may arrive any minute--to-morrow--perhaps to-day."
+
+"To-day!"
+
+"Yes, mother! Well, I must tell you all--he has arrived."
+
+"He--he is--" Frances could not articulate the word.
+
+"He was downstairs just now. Before coming up, he sent the dyer to
+apprise me that I might prepare you; for my brave father feared the
+surprise might hurt you."
+
+"Oh, heaven!"
+
+"And now," cried the blacksmith, in an accent of indescribable joy--"he
+is there, waiting! Oh, mother! for the last ten minutes I have scarcely
+been able to contain myself--my heart is bursting with joy." And running
+to the door, he threw it open.
+
+Dagobert, holding Rose and Blanche by the hand, stood on the threshold.
+Instead of rushing to her husband's arms, Frances fell on her knees
+in prayer. She thanked heaven with profound gratitude for hearing her
+prayers, and thus accepting her offerings. During a second, the actors
+of this scene stood silent and motionless. Agricola, by a sentiment of
+respect and delicacy, which struggled violently with his affection,
+did not dare to fall on his father's neck. He waited with constrained
+impatience till his mother had finished her prayer.
+
+The soldier experienced the same feeling as the blacksmith; they
+understood each other. The first glance exchanged by father and son
+expressed their affection--their veneration for that excellent woman,
+who in the fulness of her religious fervor, forgot, perhaps, too much
+the creature for the Creator.
+
+Rose and Blanche, confused and affected, looked with interest on the
+kneeling woman; while Mother Bunch, shedding in silence tears of joy
+at the thought of Agricola's happiness, withdrew into the most obscure
+corner of the room, feeling that she was a stranger, and necessarily out
+of place in that family meeting. Frances rose, and took a step towards
+her husband, who received her in his arms. There was a moment of solemn
+silence. Dagobert and Frances said not a word. Nothing could be heard
+but a few sighs, mingled with sighs of joy. And, when the aged couple
+looked up, their expression was calm, radiant, serene; for the full and
+complete enjoyment of simple and pure sentiments never leaves behind a
+feverish and violent agitation.
+
+"My children," said the soldier, in tones of emotion, presenting the
+orphans to Frances, who, after her first agitation, had surveyed them
+with astonishment, "this is my good and worthy wife; she will be to the
+daughters of General Simon what I have been to them."
+
+"Then, madame, you will treat us as your children," said Rose,
+approaching Frances with her sister.
+
+"The daughters of General Simon!" cried Dagobert's wife, more and more
+astonished.
+
+"Yes, my dear Frances; I have brought them from afar not without some
+difficulty; but I will tell you that by and by."
+
+"Poor little things! One would take them for two angels, exactly
+alike!" said Frances, contemplating the orphans with as much interest as
+admiration.
+
+"Now--for us," cried Dagobert, turning to his son.
+
+"At last," rejoined the latter.
+
+We must renounce all attempts to describe the wild joy of Dagobert
+and his son, and the crushing grip of their hands, which Dagobert
+interrupted only to look in Agricola's face; while he rested his hands
+on the young blacksmith's broad shoulders that he might see to more
+advantage his frank masculine countenance, and robust frame. Then he
+shook his hand again, exclaiming, "He's a fine fellow--well built--what
+a good-hearted look he has!"
+
+From a corner of the room Mother Bunch enjoyed Agricola's happiness; but
+she feared that her presence, till then unheeded, would be an intrusion.
+She wished to withdraw unnoticed, but could not do so. Dagobert and his
+son were between her and the door; and she stood unable to take her eyes
+from the charming faces of Rose and Blanche. She had never seen anything
+so winsome; and the extraordinary resemblance of the sisters increased
+her surprise. Then, their humble mourning revealing that they were poor,
+Mother Bunch involuntarily felt more sympathy towards them.
+
+"Dear children! They are cold; their little hands are frozen, and,
+unfortunately, the fire is out," said Frances, She tried to warm the
+orphans' hands in hers, while Dagobert and his son gave themselves up to
+the feelings of affection, so long restrained.
+
+As soon as Frances said that the fire was out, Mother Bunch hastened to
+make herself useful, as an excuse for her presence; and, going to the
+cupboard, where the charcoal and wood were kept, she took some small
+pieces, and, kneeling before the stove, succeeded, by the aid of a few
+embers that remained, in relighting the fire, which soon began to draw
+and blaze. Filling a coffee-pot with water, she placed it on the stove,
+presuming that the orphans required some warm drink. The sempstress did
+all this with so much dexterity and so little noise--she was naturally
+so forgotten amidst the emotions of the scene--that Frances, entirely
+occupied with Rose and Blanche, only perceived the fire when she felt
+its warmth diffusing round, and heard the boiling water singing in the
+coffee-pot. This phenomenon--fire rekindling of itself--did not astonish
+Dagobert's wife then, so wholly was she taken up in devising how she
+could lodge the maidens; for Dagobert as we have seen, had not given her
+notice of their arrival.
+
+Suddenly a loud bark was heard three or four times at the door.
+
+"Hallo! there's Spoil-sport," said Dagobert, letting in his dog; "he
+wants to come in to brush acquaintance with the family too."
+
+The dog came in with a bound, and in a second was quite at home. After
+having rubbed Dagobert's hand with his muzzle, he went in turns to greet
+Rose and Blanche, and also Frances and Agricola; but seeing that they
+took but little notice of him, he perceived Mother Bunch, who stood
+apart, in an obscure corner of the room, and carrying out the popular
+saying, "the friends of our friends are our friends," he went and licked
+the hands of the young workwoman, who was just then forgotten by all. By
+a singular impulse, this action affected the girl to tears; she patted
+her long, thin, white hand several times on the head of the intelligent
+dog. Then, finding that she could be no longer useful (for she had done
+all the little services she deemed in her power), she took the handsome
+flower Agricola had given her, opened the door gently, and went away
+so discreetly that no one noticed her departure. After this exchange
+of mutual affection, Dagobert, his wife, and son, began to think of the
+realities of life.
+
+"Poor Frances," said the soldier, glancing at Rose and Blanche, "you did
+not expect such a pretty surprise!"
+
+"I am only sorry, my friend," replied Frances, "that the daughters of
+General Simon will not have a better lodging than this poor room; for
+with Agricola's garret--"
+
+"It composes our mansion," interrupted Dagobert; "there are handsomer,
+it must be confessed. But be at ease; these young ladies are drilled
+into not being hard to suit on that score. To-morrow, I and my boy will
+go arm and arm, and I'll answer for it he won't walk the more upright
+and straight of the two, and find out General Simon's father, at M.
+Hardy's factory, to talk about business."
+
+"To-morrow," said Agricola to Dagobert, "you will not find at the
+factory either M. Hardy or Marshall Simon's father."
+
+"What is that you say, my lad?" cried Dagobert, hastily, "the Marshal!"
+
+"To be sure; since 1830, General Simon's friends have secured him the
+title and rank which the emperor gave him at the battle of Ligny."
+
+"Indeed!" cried Dagobert, with emotion, "but that ought not to surprise
+me; for, after all, it is just; and when the emperor said a thing, the
+least they can do is to let it abide. But it goes all the same to my
+heart; it makes me jump again."
+
+Addressing the sisters, he said: "Do you hear that, my children? You
+arrive in Paris the daughters of a Duke and Marshal of France. One
+would hardly think it, indeed, to see you in this room, my poor little
+duchesses! But patience; all will go well. Ah, father Simon must have
+been very glad to hear that his son was restored to his rank! eh, my
+lad?"
+
+"He told us he would renounce all kinds of ranks and titles to see his
+son again; for it was during the general's absence that his friends
+obtained this act of justice. But they expect Marshal Simon every
+moment, for the last letter from India announced his departure."
+
+At these words Rose and Blanche looked at each other; and their eyes
+filled with tears.
+
+"Heaven be praised! These children rely on his return; but why shall we
+not find M. Hardy and father Simon at the factory to-morrow?"
+
+"Ten days ago, they went to examine and study an English mill
+established in the south; but we expect them back every day."
+
+"The deuce! that's vexing; I relied on seeing the general's father, to
+talk over some important matters with him. At any rate, they know where
+to write to him. So to-morrow you will let him know, my lad, that his
+granddaughters are arrived. In the mean time, children," added the
+soldier, to Rose and Blanche, "my good wife will give you her bed and
+you must put up with the chances of war. Poor things! they will not be
+worse off here than they were on the journey."
+
+"You know we shall always be well off with you and madame," said Rose.
+
+"Besides, we only think of the pleasure of being at length in Paris,
+since here we are to find our father," added Blanche.
+
+"That hope gives you patience, I know," said Dagobert, "but no matter!
+After all you have heard about it, you ought to be finely surprised, my
+children. As yet, you have not found it the golden city of your dreams,
+by any means. But, patience, patience; you'll find Paris not so bad as
+it looks."
+
+"Besides," said Agricola, "I am sure the arrival of Marshal Simon in
+Paris will change it for you into a golden city."
+
+"You are right, Agricola," said Rose, with a smile, "you have, indeed,
+guessed us."
+
+"What! do you know my name?"
+
+"Certainly, Agricola, we often talked about you with Dagobert; and
+latterly, too, with Gabriel," added Blanche.
+
+"Gabriel!" cried Agricola and his mother, at the same time.
+
+"Yes," replied Dagobert, making a sign of intelligence to the orphans,
+"we have lots to tell you for a fortnight to come; and among other
+things, how we chanced to meet with Gabriel. All I can now say is that,
+in his way, he is quite as good as my boy (I shall never be tired of
+saying 'my boy'); and they ought to love each other like brothers. Oh,
+my brave, brave wife!" said Dagobert, with emotion, "you did a good
+thing, poor as you were, taking the unfortunate child--and bringing him
+up with your own."
+
+"Don't talk so much about it, my dear; it was such a simple thing."
+
+"You are right; but I'll make you amends for it by and by. 'Tis down to
+your account; in the mean time, you will be sure to see him to-morrow
+morning."
+
+"My dear brother arrived too!" cried the blacksmith; "who'll say, after
+this, that there are not days set apart for happiness? How came you to
+meet him, father?"
+
+"I'll tell you all, by and by, about when and how we met Gabriel; for
+if you expect to sleep, you are mistaken. You'll give me half your room,
+and a fine chat we'll have. Spoil-sport will stay outside of this door;
+he is accustomed to sleep at the children's door."
+
+"Dear me, love, I think of nothing. But, at such a moment, if you and
+the young ladies wish to sup, Agricola will fetch something from the
+cook-shop."
+
+"What do you say, children?"
+
+"No, thank you, Dagobert, we are not hungry; we are too happy."
+
+"You will take a little wine and water, sweetened, nice and hot, to warm
+you a little, my dear young ladies," said Frances; "unfortunately, I
+have nothing else to offer you."
+
+"You are right, Frances; the dear children are tired, and want to go to
+bed; while they do so, I'll go to my boy's room, and, before Rose and
+Blanche are awake, I will come down and converse with you, just to give
+Agricola a respite."
+
+A knock was now heard at the door.
+
+"It is good Mother Bunch come to see if we want her," said Agricola.
+
+"But I think she was here when my husband came in," added Frances.
+
+"Right, mother; and the good girl left lest she should be an intruder:
+she is so thoughtful. But no--no--it is not she who knocks so loud."
+
+"Go and see who it is, then, Agricola."
+
+Before the blacksmith could reach the door, a man decently dressed, with
+a respectable air, entered the room, and glanced rapidly round, looking
+for a moment at Rose and Blanche.
+
+"Allow me to observe, sir," said Agricola, "that after knocking, you
+might have waited till the door was opened, before you entered. Pray,
+what is your business?"
+
+"Pray excuse me, sir," said the man, very politely, and speaking slowly,
+perhaps to prolong his stay in the room: "I beg a thousand pardons--I
+regret my intrusion--I am ashamed--"
+
+"Well, you ought to be, sir," said Agricola, with impatience, "what do
+you want?"
+
+"Pray, sir, does not Miss Soliveau, a deformed needlewoman, live here?"
+
+"No, sir; upstairs," said Agricola.
+
+"Really, sir," cried the polite man, with low bows, "I am quite abroad
+at my blunder: I thought this was the room of that young person. I
+brought her proposals for work from a very respectable party."
+
+"It is very late, sir," said Agricola, with surprise. "But that young
+person is as one of our family. Call to-morrow; you cannot see her to
+night; she is gone to bed."
+
+"Then, sir, I again beg you to excuse--"
+
+"Enough, sir," said Agricola, taking a step towards the door.
+
+"I hope, madame and the young ladies, as well as this gent, will be
+assured that--"
+
+"If you go on much longer making excuses, sir, you will have to excuse
+the length of your excuses; and it is time this came to an end!"
+
+Rose and Blanche smiled at these words of Agricola; while Dagobert
+rubbed his moustache with pride.
+
+"What wit the boy has!" said he aside to his wife. "But that does not
+astonish you--you are used to it."
+
+During this speech, the ceremonious person withdrew, having again
+directed a long inquiring glance to the sisters, and to Agricola and
+Dagobert.
+
+In a few minutes after, Frances having spread a mattress on the ground
+for herself, and put the whitest sheets on her bed for the orphans,
+assisted them to undress with maternal solicitude, Dagobert and Agricola
+having previously withdrawn to their garret. Just as the blacksmith,
+who preceded his father with a light, passed before the door of Mother
+Bunch's room, the latter, half concealed in the shade, said to him
+rapidly, in a low tone:
+
+"Agricola, great danger threatens you: I must speak to you."
+
+These words were uttered in so hasty and low a voice that Dagobert did
+not hear them; but as Agricola stopped suddenly, with a start, the old
+soldier said to him,
+
+"Well, boy, what is it?"
+
+"Nothing, father," said the blacksmith, turning round; "I feared I did
+not light you well."
+
+"Oh, stand at ease about that; I have the legs and eyes of fifteen to
+night;" and the soldier, not noticing his son's surprise, went into the
+little room where they were both to pass the night.
+
+On leaving the house, after his inquiries about Mother Bunch, the
+over polite Paul Pry slunk along to the end of Brise-Miche Street. He
+advanced towards a hackney-coach drawn up on the Cloitre Saint-Merry
+Square.
+
+In this carriage lounged Rodin, wrapped in a cloak.
+
+"Well?" said he, in an inquiring tone.
+
+"The two girls and the man with gray moustache went directly to Frances
+Baudoin's; by listening at the door, I learnt that the sisters will
+sleep with her, in that room, to-night; the old man with gray moustache
+will share the young blacksmith's room."
+
+"Very well," said Rodin.
+
+"I did not dare insist on seeing the deformed workwoman this evening
+on the subject of the Bacchanal Queen; I intend returning to-morrow, to
+learn the effect of the letter she must have received this evening by
+the post about the young blacksmith."
+
+"Do not fail! And now you will call, for me, on Frances Baudoin's
+confessor, late as it is; you will tell him that I am waiting for him
+at Rue du Milieu des Ursins--he must not lose a moment. Do you come with
+him. Should I not be returned, he will wait for me. You will tell him it
+is on a matter of great moment."
+
+"All shall be faithfully executed," said the ceremonious man, cringing
+to Rodin, as the coach drove quickly away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. AGRICOLA AND MOTHER BUNCH.
+
+Within one hour after the different scenes which have just been
+described the most profound silence reigned in the soldier's humble
+dwelling. A flickering light, which played through two panes of glass
+in a door, betrayed that Mother Bunch had not yet gone to sleep; for
+her gloomy recess, without air or light, was impenetrable to the rays
+of day, except by this door, opening upon a narrow and obscure passage,
+connected with the roof. A sorry bed, a table, an old portmanteau, and a
+chair, so nearly filled this chilling abode, that two persons could not
+possibly be seated within it, unless one of them sat upon the side of
+the bed.
+
+The magnificent and precious flower that Agricola had given to the girl
+was carefully stood up in a vessel of water, placed upon the table on a
+linen cloth, diffusing its sweet odor around, and expanding its purple
+calix in the very closet, whose plastered walls, gray and damp, were
+feebly lighted by the rays of an attenuated candle. The sempstress, who
+had taken off no part of her dress, was seated upon her bed--her looks
+were downcast, and her eyes full of tears. She supported herself with
+one hand resting on the bolster; and, inclining towards the door,
+listened with painful eagerness, every instant hoping to hear the
+footsteps of Agricola. The heart of the young sempstress beat violently;
+her face, usually very pale, was now partially flushed--so exciting was
+the emotion by which she was agitated. Sometimes she cast her eyes with
+terror upon a letter which she held in her hand, a letter that had
+been delivered by post in the course of the evening, and which had
+been placed by the housekeeper (the dyer) upon the table, while she
+was rendering some trivial domestic services during the recognitions of
+Dagobert and his family.
+
+After some seconds, Mother Bunch heard a door, very near her own, softly
+opened.
+
+"There he is at last!" she exclaimed, and Agricola immediately entered.
+
+"I waited till my father went to sleep," said the blacksmith, in a low
+voice, his physiognomy evincing much more curiosity than uneasiness.
+"But what is the matter, my good sister? How your countenance is
+changed! You weep! What has happened? About what danger would you speak
+to me?"
+
+"Hush! Read this!" said she, her voice trembling with emotion, while she
+hastily presented to him the open letter. Agricola held it towards the
+light, and read what follows:
+
+"A person who has reasons for concealing himself, but who knows the
+sisterly interest you take in the welfare of Agricola Baudoin, warns
+you. That young and worthy workman will probably be arrested in the
+course of to-morrow."
+
+"I!" exclaimed Agricola, looking at Mother Bunch with an air of
+stupefied amazement. "What is the meaning of all this?"
+
+"Read on!" quickly replied the sempstress, clasping her hands.
+
+Agricola resumed reading, scarcely believing the evidence of his
+eyes:-"The song, entitled 'Working-men Freed,' has been declared
+libellous. Numerous copies of it have been found among the papers of a
+secret society, the leaders of which are about to be incarcerated, as
+being concerned in the Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy."
+
+"Alas!" said the girl, melting into tears, "now I see it all. The man
+who was lurking about below, this evening, who was observed by the dyer,
+was, doubtless, a spy, lying in wait for you coming home."
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Agricola. "This accusation is quite ridiculous!
+Do not torment yourself. I never trouble myself with politics. My verses
+breathe nothing but philanthropy. Am I to blame, if they have been found
+among the papers of a secret society?" Agricola disdainfully threw the
+letter upon the table.
+
+"Read! pray read!" said the other; "read on."
+
+"If you wish it," said Agricola, "I will; no time is lost."
+
+He resumed the reading of the letter:
+
+"A warrant is about to be issued against Agricola Baudoin. There is mo
+doubt of his innocence being sooner or later made clear; but it will be
+well if he screen himself for a time as much as possible from pursuit,
+in order that he may escape a confinement of two or three months
+previous to trial--an imprisonment which would be a terrible blow for
+his mother, whose sole support he is.
+
+"A SINCERE FRIEND, who is compelled to remain unknown."
+
+After a moment's silence, the blacksmith raised his head; his
+countenance resumed its serenity; and laughing, he said: "Reassure
+yourself, good Mother Bunch, these jokers have made a mistake by trying
+their games on me. It is plainly an attempt at making an April-fool of
+me before the time."
+
+"Agricola, for the love of heaven!" said the girl, in a supplicating
+tone; "treat not the warning thus lightly. Believe in my forebodings,
+and listen to my advice."
+
+"I tell you again, my good girl," replied Agricola, "that it is two
+months since my song was published. It is not in any way political;
+indeed, if it were, they would not have waited till now before coming
+down on me."
+
+"But," said the other, "you forget that new events have arisen. It is
+scarcely two days since the conspiracy was discovered, in this very
+neighborhood, in the Rue des Prouvaires. And," continued she, "if the
+verses, though perhaps hitherto unnoticed, have now been found in the
+possession of the persons apprehended for this conspiracy, nothing more
+is necessary to compromise you in the plot."
+
+"Compromise me!" said Agricola; "my verses! in which I only praise the
+love of labor and of goodness! To arrest me for that! If so, justice
+would be but a blind noodle. That she might grope her way, it would be
+necessary to furnish her with a dog and a pilgrim's staff to guide her
+steps."
+
+"Agricola," resumed Mother Bunch; overwhelmed with anxiety and terror on
+hearing the blacksmith jest at such a moment, "I conjure you to listen
+to me! No doubt you uphold in the verses the sacred love of labor; but
+you do also grievously deplore and deprecate the unjust lot of the poor
+laborers, devoted as they are, without hope, to all the miseries of
+life; you recommend, indeed, only fraternity among men; but your good
+and noble heart vents its indignation, at the same time, against the
+selfish and the wicked. In fine, you fervently hasten on, with the ardor
+of your wishes, the emancipation of all the artisans who, less fortunate
+than you, have not generous M. Hardy for employer. Say, Agricola, in
+these times of trouble, is there anything more necessary to compromise
+you than that numerous copies of your song have been found in possession
+of the persons who have been apprehended?"
+
+Agricola was moved by these affectionate and judicious expressions of
+an excellent creature, who reasoned from her heart; and he began to view
+with more seriousness the advice which she had given him.
+
+Perceiving that she had shaken him, the sewing-girl went on to say: "And
+then, bear your fellow-workman, Remi, in recollection."
+
+"Remi!" said Agricola, anxiously.
+
+"Yes," resumed the sempstress; "a letter of his, a letter in itself
+quite insignificant, was found in the house of a person arrested last
+year for conspiracy; and Remi, in consequence, remained a month in
+prison."
+
+"That is true, but the injustice of his implication was easily shown,
+and he was set at liberty."
+
+"Yes, Agricola: but not till he had lain a month in prison; and that has
+furnished the motive of the person who advised you to conceal yourself!
+A month in prison! Good heavens! Agricola, think of that! and your
+mother."
+
+These words made a powerful impression upon Agricola. He took up the
+letter and again read it attentively.
+
+"And the man who has been lurking all this evening about the house?"
+proceeded she. "I constantly recall that circumstance, which cannot be
+naturally accounted for. Alas! what a blow it would be for your father,
+and poor mother, who is incapable of earning anything. Are you not
+now their only resource? Oh! consider, then, what would become of them
+without you--without your labor!"
+
+"It would indeed be terrible," said Agricola, impatiently casting the
+letter upon the table. "What you have said concerning Remi is too true.
+He was as innocent as I am: yet an error of justice, an involuntary
+error though it be, is not the less cruel. But they don't commit a man
+without hearing him."
+
+"But they arrest him first, and hear him afterwards," said Mother Bunch,
+bitterly; "and then, after a month or two, they restore him his liberty.
+And if he have a wife and children, whose only means of living is his
+daily labor, what becomes of them while their only supporter is in
+prison? They suffer hunger, they endure cold, and they weep!"
+
+At these simple and pathetic words, Agricola trembled.
+
+"A month without work," he said, with a sad and thoughtful air. "And my
+mother, and father, and the two young ladies who make part of our family
+until the arrival in Paris of their father, Marshal Simon. Oh! you are
+right. That thought, in spite of myself, affrights me!"
+
+"Agricola!" exclaimed the girl impetuously; "suppose you apply to M.
+Hardy; he is so good, and his character is so much esteemed and honored,
+that, if he offered bail for you, perhaps they would give up their
+persecution?"
+
+"Unfortunately," replied Agricola, "M. Hardy is absent; he is on a
+journey with Marshal Simon."
+
+After a silence of some time, Agricola, striving to surmount his fear,
+added: "But no! I cannot give credence to this letter. After all, I had
+rather await what may come. I'll at least have the chance of proving my
+innocence on my first examination: for indeed, my good sister, whether
+it be that I am in prison or that I fly to conceal myself, my working
+for my family will be equally prevented."
+
+"Alas! that is true," said the poor girl; "what is to be done! Oh, what
+is to be done?"
+
+"My brave father," said Agricola to himself, "if this misfortune happen
+to-morrow, what an awakening it will be for him, who came here to sleep
+so joyously!" The blacksmith buried his face in his hands.
+
+Unhappily Mother Bunch's fears were too well-founded, for it will be
+recollected that at that epoch of the year 1832, before and after the
+Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy, a very great number of arrests had been
+made among the working classes, in consequence of a violent reaction
+against democratical ideas.
+
+Suddenly, the girl broke the silence which had been maintained for some
+seconds. A blush colored her features, which bore the impressions of an
+indefinable expression of constraint, grief, and hope.
+
+"Agricola, you are saved!"
+
+"What say you?" he asked.
+
+"The young lady, so beautiful, so good, who gave you this flower" (she
+showed it to the blacksmith) "who has known how to make reparation with
+so much delicacy for having made a painful offer, cannot but have a
+generous heart. You must apply to her--"
+
+With these words which seemed to be wrung from her by a violent effort
+over herself, great tears rolled down her cheeks. For the first time in
+her life she experienced a feeling of grievous jealousy. Another woman
+was so happy as to have the power of coming to the relief of him whom
+she idolized; while she herself, poor creature, was powerless and
+wretched.
+
+"Do you think so?" exclaimed Agricola surprised. "But what could be done
+with this young lady?"
+
+"Did she not say to you," answered Mother Bunch, "'Remember my name; and
+in all circumstances address yourself to me?'"
+
+"She did indeed!" replied Agricola.
+
+"This young lady, in her exalted position, ought to have powerful
+connections who will be able to protect and defend you. Go to her to
+morrow morning; tell her frankly what has happened, and request her
+support."
+
+"But tell me, my good sister, what it is you wish me to do?"
+
+"Listen. I remember that, in former times, my father told us that he had
+saved one of his friends from being put in prison, by becoming surety
+for him. It will be easy for you so to convince this young lady of your
+innocence, that she will be induced to become surety; and after that,
+you will have nothing more to fear."
+
+"My poor child!" said Agricola, "to ask so great a service from a person
+to whom one is almost unknown is hard."
+
+"Believe me, Agricola," said the other sadly, "I would never counsel
+what could possibly lower you in the eyes of any one, and above all--do
+you understand?--above all, in the eyes of this young lady. I do not
+propose that you should ask money from her; but only that she should
+give surety for you, in order that you may have the liberty of
+continuing at your employment, so that the family may not be without
+resources. Believe me, Agricola, that such a request is in no respect
+inconsistent with what is noble and becoming upon your part. The heart
+of the young lady is generous. She will comprehend your position. The
+required surety will be as nothing to her; while to you it will be
+everything, and will even be the very life to those who depend upon
+you."
+
+"You are right, my good sister," said Agricola, with sadness and
+dejection. "It is perhaps worth while to risk taking this step. If the
+young lady consent to render me this service, and if giving surety will
+indeed preserve me from prison, I shall be prepared for every event. But
+no, no!" added he, rising, "I'd never dare to make the request to her!
+What right have I to do so? What is the insignificant service that I
+rendered her, when compared with that which I should solicit from her?"
+
+"Do you imagine then, Agricola, that a generous spirit measures the
+services which ought to be rendered, by those previously received? Trust
+to me respecting a matter which is an affair of the heart. I am, it is
+true, but a lowly creature, and ought not to compare myself with any
+other person. I am nothing, and I can do nothing. Nevertheless, I am
+sure--yes, Agricola, I am sure--that this young lady, who is so very far
+above me, will experience the same feelings that I do in this affair;
+yes, like me, she will at once comprehend that your position is a cruel
+one; and she will do with joy, with happiness, with thankfulness, that
+which I would do, if, alas! I could do anything more than uselessly
+consume myself with regrets."
+
+In spite of herself, she pronounced the last words with an expression
+so heart-breaking--there was something so moving in the comparison which
+this unfortunate creature, obscure and disdained, infirm and miserable,
+made of herself with Adrienne de Cardoville, the very type of
+resplendent youth, beauty, and opulence--that Agricola was moved even to
+tears; and, holding out one of his hands to the speaker, he said to her,
+tenderly, "How very good you are; how full of nobleness, good feeling,
+and delicacy!"
+
+"Unhappily," said the weeping girl, "I can do nothing more than advise."
+
+"And your counsels shall be followed out, my sister dear. They are those
+of a soul the most elevated I have ever known. Yes, you have won me over
+into making this experiment, by persuading me that the heart of Miss de
+Cardoville is perhaps equal in value to your own!"
+
+At this charming and sincere assimilation of herself to Miss Adrienne,
+the sempstress forgot almost everything she had suffered, so exquisitely
+sweet and consoling were her emotions. If some poor creatures, fatally
+devoted to sufferings, experience griefs of which the world knows
+naught, they sometimes, too, are cheered by humble and timid joys, of
+which the world is equally ignorant. The least word of true tenderness
+and affection, which elevates them in their own estimation, is ineffably
+blissful for these unfortunate beings, habitually consigned, not only to
+hardships and to disdain, but even to desolating doubts, and distrust of
+themselves.
+
+"Then it is agreed that you will go, to-morrow morning to this young
+lady's house?" exclaimed Mother Bunch, trembling with a new-born hope.
+"And," she quickly added, "at break of day I'll go down to watch at the
+street-door, to see if there be anything suspicious, and to apprise you
+of what I perceive."
+
+"Good, excellent girl!" exclaimed Agricola, with increasing emotion.
+
+"It will be necessary to endeavor to set off before the wakening of
+your father," said the hunchback. "The quarter in which the young lady
+dwells, is so deserted, that the mere going there will almost serve for
+your present concealment."
+
+"I think I hear the voice of my father," said Agricola suddenly.
+
+In truth, the little apartment was so near Agricola's garret, that he
+and the sempstress, listening, heard Dagobert say in the dark:
+
+"Agricola, is it thus that you sleep, my boy? Why, my first sleep is
+over; and my tongue itches deucedly."
+
+"Go quick, Agricola!" said Mother Bunch; "your absence would disquiet
+him. On no account go out to-morrow morning, before I inform you whether
+or not I shall have seen anything suspicious."
+
+"Why, Agricola, you are not here?" resumed Dagobert, in a louder voice.
+
+"Here I am, father," said the smith, while going out of the sempstress's
+apartment, and entering the garret, to his father.
+
+"I have been to fasten the shutter of a loft that the wind agitated,
+lest its noise should disturb you."
+
+"Thanks, my boy; but it is not noise that wakes me," said Dagobert,
+gayly; "it is an appetite, quite furious, for a chat with you. Oh, my
+dear boy, it is the hungering of a proud old man of a father, who has
+not seen his son for eighteen years."
+
+"Shall I light a candle, father?"
+
+"No, no; that would be luxurious; let us chat in the dark. It will be a
+new pleasure for me to see you to-morrow morning at daybreak. It will be
+like seeing you for the first time twice." The door of Agricola's garret
+being now closed, Mother Bunch heard nothing more.
+
+The poor girl, without undressing, threw herself upon the bed, and
+closed not an eye during the night, painfully awaiting the appearance of
+day, in order that she might watch over the safety of Agricola. However,
+in spite of her vivid anxieties for the morrow, she sometimes allowed
+herself to sink into the reveries of a bitter melancholy. She compared
+the conversation she had just had in the silence of night, with the man
+whom she secretly adored, with what that conversation might have been,
+had she possessed some share of charms and beauty--had she been loved as
+she loved, with a chaste and devoted flame! But soon sinking into belief
+that she should never know the ravishing sweets of a mutual passion, she
+found consolation in the hope of being useful to Agricola. At the dawn
+of day, she rose softly, and descended the staircase with little noise,
+in order to see if anything menaced Agricola from without.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. THE AWAKENING.
+
+The weather, damp and foggy during a portion of the night, became clear
+and cold towards morning. Through the glazed skylight of Agricola's
+garret, where he lay with his father, a corner of the blue sky could be
+seen.
+
+The apartment of the young blacksmith had an aspect as poor as the
+sewing-girl's. For its sole ornament, over the deal table upon which
+Agricola wrote his poetical inspirations, there hung suspended from a
+nail in the wall a portrait of Beranger--that immortal poet whom the
+people revere and cherish, because his rare and transcendent genius has
+delighted to enlighten the people, and to sing their glories and their
+reverses.
+
+Although the day had only begun to dawn, Dagobert and Agricola had
+already risen. The latter had sufficient self command to conceal his
+inquietude, for renewed reflection had again increased his fears.
+
+The recent outbreak in the Rue des Prouvaires had caused a great number
+of precautionary arrests; and the discovery of numerous copies
+of Agricola's song, in the possession of one of the chiefs of the
+disconcerted plot, was, in truth, calculated slightly to compromise the
+young blacksmith. His father, however, as we have already mentioned,
+suspected not his secret anguish. Seated by the side of his son, upon
+the edge of their mean little bed, the old soldier, by break of day,
+had dressed and shaved with military care; he now held between his hands
+both those of Agricola, his countenance radiant with joy, and unable to
+discontinue the contemplation of his boy.
+
+"You will laugh at me, my dear boy," said Dagobert to his son; "but I
+wished the night to the devil, in order that I might gaze upon you in
+full day, as I now see you. But all in good time; I have lost nothing.
+Here is another silliness of mine; it delights me to see you wear
+moustaches. What a splendid horse-grenadier you would have made! Tell
+me; have you never had a wish to be a soldier?"
+
+"I thought of mother!"
+
+"That's right," said Dagobert: "and besides, I believe, after all, look
+ye, that the time of the sword has gone by. We old fellows are now good
+for nothing, but to be put in a corner of the chimney. Like rusty old
+carbines, we have had our day."
+
+"Yes; your days of heroism and of glory," said Agricola with excitement;
+and then he added, with a voice profoundly softened and agitated, "it is
+something good and cheering to be your son!"
+
+"As to the good, I know nothing of that," replied Dagobert; "but as for
+the cheering, it ought to be so; for I love you proudly. And I think
+this is but the beginning! What say you, Agricola? I am like the
+famished wretches who have been some days without food. It is but by
+little and little that they recover themselves, and can eat. Now, you
+may expect to be tasted, my boy, morning and evening, and devoured
+during the day. No, I wish not to think that--not all the day--no, that
+thought dazzles and perplexes me; and I am no longer myself."
+
+These words of Dagobert caused a painful feeling to Agricola. He
+believed that they sprang from a presentiment of the separation with
+which he was menaced.
+
+"Well," continued Dagobert; "you are quite happy; M. Hardy is always
+good to you."
+
+"Oh!" replied Agricola: "there is none in the world better, or more
+equitable and generous! If you knew what wonders he has brought about
+in his factory! Compared to all others, it is a paradise beside the
+stithies of Lucifer!"
+
+"Indeed!" said Dagobert.
+
+"You shall see," resumed Agricola, "what welfare, what joy, what
+affection, are displayed upon the countenances of all whom he employs;
+who work with an ardent pleasure.
+
+"This M. Hardy of yours must be an out-and-out magician," said Dagobert.
+
+"He is, father, a very great magician. He has known how to render labor
+pleasant and attractive. As for the pleasure, over and above good wages,
+he accords to us a portion of his profits according to our deserts;
+whence you may judge of the eagerness with which we go to work. And that
+is not all: he has caused large, handsome buildings to be erected, in
+which all his workpeople find, at less expense than elsewhere, cheerful
+and salubrious lodgings, in which they enjoy all the advantages of an
+association. But you shall see--I repeat--you shall see!"
+
+"They have good reason to say, that Paris is the region of wonders,"
+observed Dagobert.
+
+"Well, behold me here again at last, never more to quit you, nor good
+mother!"
+
+"No, father, we will never separate again," said Agricola, stifling a
+sigh. "My mother and I will both try to make you forget all that you
+have suffered."
+
+"Suffered!" exclaimed Dagobert, "who the deuce has suffered? Look me
+well in the face; and see if I have a look of suffering! Bombs and
+bayonets! Since I have put my foot here, I feel myself quite a young man
+again! You shall see me march soon: I bet that I tire you out! You must
+rig yourself up something extra! Lord, how they will stare at us! I
+wager that in beholding your black moustache and my gray one, folks will
+say, behold father and son! But let us settle what we are to do with the
+day. You will write to the father of Marshal Simon, informing him the
+his grand-daughters have arrived, and that it is necessary that he
+should hasten his return to Paris; for he has charged himself with
+matters which are of great importance for them. While you are writing,
+I will go down to say good-morning to my wife, and to the dear little
+ones. We will then eat a morsel. Your mother will go to mass; for I
+perceive that she likes to be regular at that: the good soul! no great
+harm, if it amuse her! and during her absence, we will make a raid
+together."
+
+"Father," said Agricola, with embarrassment, "this morning it is out of
+my power to accompany you."
+
+"How! out of your power?" said Dagobert; "recollect this is Monday!"
+
+"Yes, father," said Agricola, hesitatingly; "but I have promised to
+attend all the morning in the workshop, to finish a job that is required
+in a hurry. If I fail to do so, I shall inflict some injury upon M.
+Hardy. But I'll soon be at liberty."
+
+"That alters the case," said Dagobert, with a sigh of regret. "I thought
+to make my first parade through Paris with you this morning; but it must
+be deferred in favor of your work. It is sacred: since it is that which
+sustains your mother. Nevertheless, it is vexatious, devilish vexatious.
+And yet no--I am unjust. See how quickly one gets habituated to and
+spoilt by happiness. I growl like a true grumbler, at a walk being put
+off for a few hours! I do this! I who, during eighteen years, have only
+hoped to see you once more, without daring to reckon very much upon
+it! Oh! I am but a silly old fool! Vive l'amour et cogni--I mean--my
+Agricola!" And, to console himself, the old soldier gayly slapped his
+son's shoulder.
+
+This seemed another omen of evil to the blacksmith; for he dreaded one
+moment to another lest the fears of Mother Bunch should be realized.
+"Now that I have recovered myself," said Dagobert, laughing, "let
+us speak of business. Know you where I find the addresses of all the
+notaries in Paris?"
+
+"I don't know; but nothing is more easy than to discover it."
+
+"My reason is," resumed Dagobert, "that I sent from Russia by post, and
+by order of the mother of the two children that I have brought here,
+some important papers to a Parisian notary. As it was my duty to see
+this notary immediately upon my arrival, I had written his name and his
+address in a portfolio, of which however, I have been robbed during my
+journey; and as I have forgotten his devil of a name, it seems to me,
+that if I should see it again in the list of notaries, I might recollect
+it."
+
+Two knocks at the door of the garret made Agricola start. He
+involuntarily thought of a warrant for his apprehension.
+
+His father, who, at the sound of the knocking turned round his head, had
+not perceived his emotion, and said with a loud voice: "Come in!" The
+door opened. It was Gabriel. He wore a black cassock and a broad brimmed
+hat.
+
+To recognize his brother by adoption, and to throw himself into his
+arms, were two movements performed at once by Agricola--as quick as
+thought.--"My brother!" exclaimed Agricola.
+
+"Agricola!" cried Gabriel.
+
+"Gabriel!" responded the blacksmith.
+
+"After so long an absence!" said the one.
+
+"To behold you again!" rejoined the other.
+
+Such were the words exchanged between the blacksmith and the missionary,
+while they were locked in a close embrace.
+
+Dagobert, moved and charmed by these fraternal endearments, felt his
+eyes become moist. There was something truly touching in the affection
+of the young men--in their hearts so much alike, and yet of characters
+and aspects so very different--for the manly countenance of Agricola
+contrasted strongly with the delicacy and angelic physiognomy of
+Gabriel.
+
+"I was forewarned by my father of your arrival," said the blacksmith at
+length. "I have been expecting to see you; and my happiness has been
+a hundred times the greater, because I have had all the pleasures of
+hoping for it."
+
+"And my good mother?" asked Gabriel, in affectionately grasping the
+hands of Dagobert. "I trust that you have found her in good health."
+
+"Yes, my brave boy!" replied Dagobert; "and her health will have become
+a hundred times better, now that we are all together. Nothing is so
+healthful as joy." Then addressing himself to Agricola, who, forgetting
+his fear of being arrested, regarded the missionary with an expression
+of ineffable affection, Dagobert added:
+
+"Let it be remembered, that, with the soft cheek of a young girl,
+Gabriel has the courage of a lion; I have already told with what
+intrepidity he saved the lives of Marshal Simon's daughters, and tried
+to save mine also."
+
+"But, Gabriel! what has happened to your forehead?" suddenly exclaimed
+Agricola, who for a few seconds had been attentively examining the
+missionary.
+
+Gabriel, having thrown aside his hat on entering, was now directly
+beneath the skylight of the garret apartment, the bright light through
+which shone upon his sweet, pale countenance: and the round scar,
+which extended from one eyebrow to the other, was therefore distinctly
+visible.
+
+In the midst of the powerful and diversified emotion, and of the
+exciting events which so rapidly followed the shipwreck on the rocky
+coast near Cardoville House, Dagobert, during the short interview he
+then had with Gabriel, had not perceived the scar which seamed the
+forehead of the young missionary. Now, partaking, however, of the
+surprise of his son, Dagobert said:
+
+"Aye, indeed! how came this scar upon your brow?"
+
+"And on his hands, too; see, dear father!" exclaimed the blacksmith,
+with renewed surprise, while he seized one of the hands which the young
+priest held out towards him in order to tranquillize his fears.
+
+"Gabriel, my brave boy, explain this to us!" added Dagobert; "who
+has wounded you thus?" and in his turn, taking the other hand of the
+missionary, he examined the scar upon it with the eye of a judge of
+wounds, and then added, "In Spain, one of my comrades was found and
+taken down alive from a cross, erected at the junction of several roads,
+upon which the monks had crucified, and left him to die of hunger,
+thirst, and agony. Ever afterwards he bore scars upon his hands, exactly
+similar to this upon your hand."
+
+"My father is right!" exclaimed Agricola. "It is evident that your
+hands have been pierced through! My poor brother!" and Agricola became
+grievously agitated.
+
+"Do not think about it," said Gabriel, reddening with the embarrassment
+of modesty. "Having gone as a missionary amongst the savages of the
+Rocky Mountains, they crucified me, and they had begun to scalp me, when
+Providence snatched me from their hands."
+
+"Unfortunate youth," said Dagobert; "without arms then? You had not a
+sufficient escort for your protection?"
+
+"It is not for such as me to carry arms." said Gabriel, sweetly smiling;
+"and we are never accompanied by any escort."
+
+"Well, but your companions, those who were along with you, how came it
+that they did not defend you?" impetuously asked Agricola.
+
+"I was alone, my dear brother."
+
+"Alone!"
+
+"Yes, alone; without even a guide."
+
+"You alone! unarmed! in a barbarous country!" exclaimed Dagobert,
+scarcely crediting a step so unmilitary, and almost distrusting his own
+sense of hearing.
+
+"It was sublime!" said the young blacksmith and poet.
+
+"The Christian faith," said Gabriel, with mild simplicity, "cannot be
+implanted by force or violence. It is only by the power of persuasion
+that the gospel can be spread amongst poor savages."
+
+"But when persuasions fail!" said Agricola.
+
+"Why, then, dear brother, one has but to die for the belief that is
+in him, pitying those who have rejected it, and who have refused the
+blessings it offers to mankind."
+
+There was a period of profound silence after the reply of Gabriel, which
+was uttered with simple and touching pathos.
+
+Dagobert was in his own nature too courageous not to comprehend a
+heroism thus calm and resigned; and the old soldier, as well as his
+son, now contemplated Gabriel with the most earnest feelings of mingled
+admiration and respect.
+
+Gabriel, entirely free from the affection of false modesty, seemed quite
+unconscious of the emotions which he had excited in the breasts of his
+two friends; and he therefore said to Dagobert, "What ails you?"
+
+"What ails me!" exclaimed the brave old soldier, with great emotion:
+"After having been for thirty years in the wars, I had imagined myself
+to be about as courageous as any man. And now I find I have a master!
+And that master is yourself!"
+
+"I!" said Gabriel; "what do you mean? What have I done?"
+
+"Thunder, don't you know that the brave wounds there" (the veteran
+took with transport both of Gabriel's hands), "that these wounds are
+as glorious--are more glorious than our--than all ours, as warriors by
+profession!"
+
+"Yes! yes, my father speaks truth!" exclaimed Agricola; and he added,
+with enthusiasm, "Oh, for such priests! How I love them! How I
+venerate them! How I am elevated by their charity, their courage, their
+resignation!"
+
+"I entreat you not to extol me thus," said Gabriel with embarrassment.
+
+"Not extol you!" replied Dagobert. "Hanged if I shouldn't. When I have
+gone into the heat of action, did I rush into it alone? Was I not under
+the eyes of my commanding officer? Were not my comrades there along
+with me? In default of true courage, had I not the instinct of self
+preservation to spur me on, without reckoning the excitement of the
+shouts and tumult of battle, the smell of the gunpowder, the flourishes
+of the trumpets, the thundering of the cannon, the ardor of my horse,
+which bounded beneath me as if the devil were at his tail? Need I state
+that I also knew that the emperor was present, with his eye upon every
+one--the emperor, who, in recompense for a hole being made in my tough
+hide, would give me a bit of lace or a ribbon, as plaster for the wound.
+Thanks to all these causes, I passed for game. Fair enough! But are
+you not a thousand times more game than I, my brave boy; going alone,
+unarmed, to confront enemies a hundred times more ferocious than those
+whom we attacked--we, who fought in whole squadrons, supported by
+artillery, bomb-shells, and case-shot?"
+
+"Excellent father!" cried Agricola, "how noble of you to render to
+Gabriel this justice!"
+
+"Oh, dear brother," said Gabriel, "his kindness to me makes him magnify
+what was quite natural and simple!"
+
+"Natural!" said the veteran soldier; "yes, natural for gallants who have
+hearts of the true temper: but that temper is rare."
+
+"Oh, yes, very rare," said Agricola; "for that kind of courage is the
+most admirable of all. Most bravely did you seek almost certain death,
+alone, bearing the cross in hand as your only weapon, to preach charity
+and Christian brotherhood. They seized you, tortured you; and you await
+death and partly endure it, without complaint, without remonstrance,
+without hatred, without anger, without a wish for vengeance; forgiveness
+issuing from your mouth, and a smile of pity beaming upon your lips;
+and this in the depths of forests, where no one could witness your
+magnanimity,--none could behold you--and without other desire, after you
+were rescued than modestly to conceal blessed wounds under your black
+robe! My father is right, by Jove! can you still contend that you are
+not as brave as he?"
+
+"And besides, too," resumed Dagobert, "the dear boy did all that for
+a thankless paymaster; for it is true, Agricola, that his wounds will
+never change his humble black robe of a priest into the rich robe of a
+bishop!"
+
+"I am not so disinterested as I may seem to be," said Gabriel to
+Dagobert, smiling meekly. "If I am deemed worthy, a great recompense
+awaits me on high."
+
+"As to all that, my boy," said Dagobert, "I do not understand it; and I
+will not argue about it. I maintain it, that my old cross of honor would
+be at least as deservedly affixed to your cassock as upon my uniform."
+
+"But these recompenses are never conferred upon humble priests like
+Gabriel," said Agricola, "and if you did know, dear father, how
+much virtue and valor is among those whom the highest orders in the
+priesthood insolently call the inferior clergy,--the unseen merit and
+the blind devotedness to be found amongst worthy, but obscure, country
+curates, who are inhumanly treated and subjugated to a pitiless yoke by
+the lordly lawnsleeves! Like us, those poor priests are worthy laborers
+in their vocation; and for them, also, all generous hearts ought to
+demand enfranchisement! Sons of common people, like ourselves, and
+useful as we are, justice ought to be rendered both to them and to us.
+Do I say right, Gabriel? You will not contradict it; for you have told
+me, that your ambition would have been to obtain a small country curacy;
+because you understand the good that you could work within it."
+
+"My desire is still the same," said Gabriel sadly: "but unfortunately--"
+and then, as if he wished to escape from a painful thought, and to
+change the conversation, he, addressing himself to Dagobert, added:
+"Believe me: be more just than to undervalue your own courage by
+exalting mine. Your courage must be very great--very great; for, after
+a battle, the spectacle of the carnage must be truly terrible to a
+generous and feeling heart. We, at least, though we may be killed, do
+not kill."
+
+At these words of the missionary, the soldier drew himself up erect,
+looked upon Gabriel with astonishment, and said, "This is most
+surprising!"
+
+"What is?" inquired Agricola.
+
+"What Gabriel has just told us," replied Dagobert, "brings to my mind
+what I experienced in warfare on the battlefield in proportion as I
+advanced in years. Listen, my children: more than once, on the
+night after a general engagement, I have been mounted as a
+vidette,--alone,--by night,--amid the moonlight, on the field of battle
+which remained in our possession, and upon which lay the bodies of
+seven or eight thousand of the slain, amongst whom were mingled the
+slaughtered remains of some of my old comrades: and then this sad scene,
+when the profound silence has restored me to my senses from the thirst
+for bloodshed and the delirious whirling of my sword (intoxicated
+like the rest), I have said to myself, 'for what have these men been
+killed?--FOR WHAT--FOR WHAT?' But this feeling, well understood as it
+was, hindered me not, on the following morning, when the trumpets again
+sounded the charge, from rushing once more to the slaughter. But the
+same thought always recurred when my arm became weary with carnage; and
+after wiping my sabre upon the mane of my horse, I have said to myself,
+'I have killed!--killed!!--killed!!! and, FOR WHAT!!!'"
+
+The missionary and the blacksmith exchanged looks on hearing the old
+soldier give utterance to this singular retrospection of the past.
+
+"Alas!" said Gabriel to him, "all generous hearts feel as you did during
+the solemn moments, when the intoxication of glory has subsided, and
+man is left alone to the influence of the good instincts planted in his
+bosom."
+
+"And that should prove, my brave boy," rejoined Dagobert, "that you are
+greatly better than I; for those noble instincts, as you call them, have
+never abandoned you. * * * * But how the deuce did you escape from the
+claws of the infuriated savages who had already crucified you?"
+
+At this question of Dagobert, Gabriel started and reddened so visibly,
+that the soldier said to him: "If you ought not or cannot answer my
+request, let us say no more about it."
+
+"I have nothing to conceal, either from you or from my brother," replied
+the missionary with altered voice. "Only; it will be difficult for me to
+make you comprehend what I cannot comprehend myself."
+
+"How is that?" asked Agricola with surprise.
+
+"Surely," said Gabriel, reddening more deeply, "I must have been
+deceived by a fallacy of my senses, during that abstracted moment in
+which I awaited death with resignation. My enfeebled mind, in spite of
+me, must have been cheated by an illusion; or that, which to the present
+hour has remained inexplicable, would have been more slowly developed;
+and I should have known with greater certainty that it was the strange
+woman--"
+
+Dagobert, while listening to the missionary, was perfectly amazed; for
+he also had vainly tried to account for the unexpected succor which had
+freed him and the two orphans from the prison at Leipsic.
+
+"Of what woman do you speak?" asked Agricola.
+
+"Of her who saved me," was the reply.
+
+"A woman saved you from the hands of the savages?" said Dagobert.
+
+"Yes," replied Gabriel, though absorbed in his reflections, "a woman,
+young and beautiful!"
+
+"And who was this woman?" asked Agricola.
+
+"I know not. When I asked her, she replied, 'I am the sister of the
+distressed!'"
+
+"And whence came she? Whither went she?" asked Dagobert, singularly
+interested.
+
+"'I go wheresoever there is suffering,' she replied," answered
+the missionary; "and she departed, going towards the north of
+America--towards those desolate regions in which there is eternal snow,
+where the nights are without end."
+
+"As in Siberia," said Dagobert, who had become very thoughtful.
+
+"But," resumed Agricola, addressing himself to Gabriel, who seemed also
+to have become more and more absorbed, "in what manner or by what means
+did this woman come to your assistance?"
+
+The missionary was about to reply to the last question, when there was
+heard a gentle tap at the door of the garret apartment, which renewed
+the fears that Agricola had forgotten since the arrival of his adopted
+brother. "Agricola," said a sweet voice outside the door, "I wish to
+speak with you as soon as possible."
+
+The blacksmith recognized Mother Bunch's voice, and opened the door.
+But the young sempstress, instead of entering, drew back into the dark
+passage, and said, with a voice of anxiety: "Agricola, it is an hour
+since broad day, and you have not yet departed! How imprudent! I have
+been watching below, in the street, until now, and have seen nothing
+alarming; but they may come any instant to arrest you. Hasten, I conjure
+you, your departure for the abode of Miss de Cardoville. Not a minute
+should be lost."
+
+"Had it not been for the arrival of Gabriel, I should have been gone.
+But I could not resist the happiness of remaining some little time with
+him."
+
+"Gabriel here!" said Mother Bunch, with sweet surprise; for, as has been
+stated, she had been brought up with him and Agricola.
+
+"Yes," answered Agricola, "for half an hour he has been with my father
+and me."
+
+"What happiness I shall have in seeing him again," said the sewing-girl.
+"He doubtless came upstairs while I had gone for a brief space to your
+mother, to ask if I could be useful in any way on account of the young
+ladies; but they have been so fatigued that they still sleep. Your
+mother has requested me to give you this letter for your father. She has
+just received it."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Well," resumed Mother Bunch, "now that you have seen Gabriel, do not
+delay long. Think what a blow it would be for your father, if they came
+to arrest you in his very presence mon Dieu!"
+
+"You are right," said Agricola; "it is indispensable that I should
+depart--while near Gabriel in spite of my anxiety, my fears were
+forgotten."
+
+"Go quickly, then; and if Miss de Cardoville should grant this favor,
+perhaps in a couple of hours you will return, quite at ease both as to
+yourself and us."
+
+"True! a very few minutes more; and I'll come down."
+
+"I return to watch at the door. If I perceive anything. I'll come up
+again to apprise you. But pray, do not delay."
+
+"Be easy, good sister." Mother Bunch hurriedly descended the staircase,
+to resume her watch at the street door, and Agricola re-entered his
+garret. "Dear father," he said to Dagobert, "my mother has just received
+this letter, and she requests you to read it."
+
+"Very well; read it for me, my boy." And Agricola read as follows:
+
+"MADAME.--I understand that your husband has been charged by General
+Simon with an affair of very great importance. Will you, as soon as your
+husband arrives in Paris, request him to come to my office at Chartres
+without a moment's delay. I am instructed to deliver to himself, and
+to no other person, some documents indispensable to the interests of
+General Simon.
+
+             "DURAND, Notary at Chartres."
+
+Dagobert looked at his son with astonishment, and said to him, "Who can
+have told this gentleman already of my arrival in Paris?"
+
+"Perhaps, father," said Agricola, "this is the notary to whom you
+transmitted some papers, and whose address you have lost."
+
+"But his name was not Durand; and I distinctly recollect that his
+address was Paris, not Chartres. And, besides," said the soldier,
+thoughtfully, "if he has some important documents, why didn't he
+transmit them to me?"
+
+"It seems to me that you ought not to neglect going to him as soon as
+possible," said Agricola, secretly rejoiced that this circumstance
+would withdraw his father for about two days, during which time his
+(Agricola's) fate would be decided in one way or other.
+
+"Your counsel is good," replied his father.
+
+"This thwarts your intentions in some degree?" asked Gabriel.
+
+"Rather, my lads; for I counted upon passing the day with you. However,
+'duty before everything.' Having come happily from Siberia to Paris,
+it is not for me to fear a journey from Paris to Chartres, when it is
+required on an affair of importance. In twice twenty-four hours I shall
+be back again. But the deuce take me if I expected to leave Paris for
+Chartres to-day. Luckily, I leave Rose and Blanche with my good wife;
+and Gabriel, their angel, as they call him, will be here to keep them
+company."
+
+"That is, unfortunately, impossible," said the missionary, sadly. "This
+visit on my arrival is also a farewell visit."
+
+"A farewell visit! Now!" exclaimed Dagobert and Agricola both at once.
+
+"Alas, yes!"
+
+"You start already on another mission?" said Dagobert; "surely it is not
+possible?"
+
+"I must answer no question upon this subject," said Gabriel, suppressing
+a sigh: "but from now, for some time, I cannot, and ought not, come
+again into this house."
+
+"Why, my brave boy," resumed Dagobert with emotion, "there is something
+in thy conduct that savors of constraint, of oppression. I know
+something of men. He you call superior, whom I saw for some moments
+after the shipwreck at Cardoville Castle, has a bad look; and I am sorry
+to see you enrolled under such a commander."
+
+"At Cardoville Castle!" exclaimed Agricola, struck with the identity
+of the name with that of the young lady of the golden hair; "was it in
+Cardoville Castle that you were received after your shipwreck?"
+
+"Yes, my boy; why, does that astonish you?" asked Dagobert.
+
+"Nothing father; but were the owners of the castle there at the time?"
+
+"No; for the steward, when I applied to him for an opportunity to return
+thanks for the kind hospitality we had experienced, informed me that the
+person to whom the house belonged was resident at Paris."
+
+"What a singular coincidence," thought Agricola, "if the young lady
+should be the proprietor of the dwelling which bears her name!"
+
+This reflection having recalled to Agricola the promise which he had
+made to Mother Bunch, he said to Dagobert; "Dear father, excuse me; but
+it is already late, and I ought to be in the workshop by eight o'clock."
+
+"That is too true, my boy. Let us go. This party is adjourned till my
+return from Chartres. Embrace me once more, and take care of yourself."
+
+Since Dagobert had spoken of constraint and oppression to Gabriel, the
+latter had continued pensive. At the moment when Agricola approached
+him to shake hands, and to bid him adieu, the missionary said to him
+solemnly, with a grave voice, and in a tone of decision that astonished
+both the blacksmith and the soldier: "My dear brother, one word more. I
+have come here to say to you also that within a few days hence I shall
+have need of you; and of you also, my father (permit me so to call
+you)," added Gabriel, with emotion, as he turned round to Dagobert.
+
+"How! you speak thus to us!" exclaimed Agricola; "what is the matter?"
+
+"Yes," replied Gabriel, "I need the advice and assistance of two men of
+honor--of two men of resolution;--and I can reckon upon you two--can I
+not? At any hour, on whatever day it may be, upon a word from me, will
+you come?"
+
+Dagobert and his son regarded each other in silence, astonished at the
+accents of the missionary. Agricola felt an oppression of the heart. If
+he should be a prisoner when his brother should require his assistance,
+what could be done?
+
+"At every hour, by night or by day, my brave boy, you may depend upon
+us," said Dagobert, as much surprised as interested--"You have a father
+and a brother; make your own use of them."
+
+"Thanks, thanks," said Gabriel, "you set me quite at ease."
+
+"I'll tell you what," resumed the soldier, "were it not for your
+priest's robe, I should believe, from the manner in which you have
+spoken to us, that you are about to be engaged in a duel--in a mortal
+combat."
+
+"In a duel?" said Gabriel, starting. "Yes; it may be a duel--uncommon
+and fearful--at which it is necessary to have two witnesses such as
+you--A FATHER and A BROTHER!"
+
+Some instants afterwards, Agricola, whose anxiety was continually
+increasing, set off in haste for the dwelling of Mademoiselle de
+Cardoville, to which we now beg leave to take the reader.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PAVILION.
+
+Dizier House was one of the largest and handsomest in the Rue Babylone,
+in Paris. Nothing could be more severe, more imposing, or more
+depressing than the aspect of this old mansion. Several immense windows,
+filled with small squares of glass, painted a grayish white, increased
+the sombre effect of the massive layers of huge stones, blackened by
+time, of which the fabric was composed.
+
+This dwelling bore a resemblance to all the others that had been erected
+in the same quarter towards the middle of the last century. It was
+surmounted in front by a pediment; it had an elevated ground floor,
+which was reached from the outside by a circular flight of broad stone
+steps. One of the fronts looked on an immense court-yard, on each side
+of which an arcade led to the vast interior departments. The other front
+overlooked the garden, or rather park, of twelve or fifteen roods; and,
+on this side, wings, approaching the principal part of the structure,
+formed a couple of lateral galleries. Like nearly all the other great
+habitations of this quarter, there might be seen at the extremity of the
+garden, what the owners and occupiers of each called the lesser mansion.
+
+This extension was a Pompadour summer-house, built in the form of a
+rotunda, with the charming though incorrect taste of the era of its
+erection. It presented, in every part where it was possible for the
+stones to be cut, a profusion of endives, knots of ribbons, garlands
+of flowers, and chubby cupids. This pavilion, inhabited by Adrienne
+de Cardoville was composed of a ground floor, which was reached by a
+peristyle of several steps. A small vestibule led to a circular hall,
+lighted from the roof. Four principal apartments met here; and ranges of
+smaller rooms, concealed in the upper story, served for minor purposes.
+
+These dependencies of great habitations are in our days disused, or
+transformed into irregular conservatories; but by an uncommon exception,
+the black exterior of the pavilion had been scraped and renewed, and
+the entire structure repaired. The white stones of which it was built
+glistened like Parian marble; and its renovated, coquettish aspect
+contrasted singularly with the gloomy mansion seen at the other
+extremity of an extensive lawn, on which were planted here and there
+gigantic clumps of verdant trees.
+
+The following scene occurred at this residence on the morning following
+that of the arrival of Dagobert, with the daughters of Marshal Simon, in
+the Rue Brise-Miche. The hour of eight had sounded from the steeple of a
+neighboring church; a brilliant winter sun arose to brighten a pure blue
+sky behind the tall leafless trees, which in summer formed a dome of
+verdure over the summer-house. The door in the vestibule opened, and the
+rays of the morning sun beamed upon a charming creature, or rather upon
+two charming creatures, for the second one, though filling a modest
+place in the scale of creation, was not less distinguished by beauty of
+its own, which was very striking. In plain terms two individuals, one of
+them a young girl, and the other a tiny English dog, of great beauty,
+of that breed of spaniels called King Charles's, made their appearance
+under the peristyle of the rotunda. The name of the young girl was
+Georgette; the beautiful little spaniel's was Frisky. Georgette was in
+her eighteenth year. Never had Florine or Manton, never had a lady's
+maid of Marivaux, a more mischievous face, an eye more quick, a smile
+more roguish, teeth more white, cheeks more roseate, figure more
+coquettish, feet smaller, or form smarter, attractive, and enticing.
+Though it was yet very early, Georgette was carefully and tastefully
+dressed. A tiny Valenciennes cap, with flaps and flap-band, of half
+peasant fashion, decked with rose-colored ribbons, and stuck a little
+backward upon bands of beautiful fair hair, surrounded her fresh and
+piquant face; a robe of gray levantine, and a cambric neck-kerchief,
+fastened to her bosom by a large tuft of rose-colored ribbons, displayed
+her figure elegantly rounded; a hollands apron, white as snow, trimmed
+below by three large hems, surmounted by a Vandyke-row, encircled her
+waist, which was as round and flexible as a reed; her short, plain
+sleeves, edged with bone lace, allowed her plump arms to be seen, which
+her long Swedish gloves, reaching to the elbow, defended from the rigor
+of the cold. When Georgette raised the bottom of her dress, in order to
+descend more quickly the steps, she exhibited to Frisky's indifferent
+eyes a beautiful ankle, and the beginning of the plump calf of a fine
+leg, encased in white silk, and a charming little foot, in a laced
+half-boot of Turkish satin. When a blonde like Georgette sets herself
+to be ensnaring; when vivid glances sparkle from her eyes of bright yet
+tender blue; when a joyous excitement suffuses her transparent skin,
+she is more resistless for the conquest of everything before her than a
+brunette.
+
+This bewitching and nimble lady's-maid, who on the previous evening
+had introduced Agricola to the pavilion, was first waiting woman to
+the Honorable Miss Adrienne de Cardoville, niece of the Princess Saint
+Dizier.
+
+Frisky, so happily found and brought back by the blacksmith, uttered
+weak but joyful barks, and bounded, ran, and frolicked upon the turf.
+She was not much bigger than one's fist; her curled hair, of lustrous
+black, shone like ebony, under the broad, red satin ribbon which
+encircled her neck; her paws, fringed with long silken fur, were of
+a bright and fiery tan, as well as her muzzle, the nose of which was
+inconceivably pug; her large eyes were full of intelligence; and her
+curly ears so long that they trailed upon the ground. Georgette seemed
+to be as brisk and petulant as Frisky, and shared her sportiveness,--now
+scampering after the happy little spaniel, and now retreating, in order
+to be pursued upon the greensward in her turn. All at once, at the sight
+of a second person, who advanced with deliberate gravity, Georgette
+and Frisky were suddenly stopped in their diversion. The little King
+Charles, some steps in advance of Georgette, faithful to her name,
+and bold as the devil, held herself firmly upon her nervous paws, and
+fiercely awaited the coming up of the enemy, displaying at the same time
+rows of little teeth, which, though of ivory, were none the less pointed
+and sharp. The enemy consisted of a woman of mature age, accompanied by
+a very fat dog, of the color of coffee and milk; his tail was twisted
+like a corkscrew; he was pot-bellied; his skin was sleek; his neck was
+turned little to one side; he walked with his legs inordinately spread
+out, and stepped with the air of a doctor. His black muzzle, quarrelsome
+and scowling showed two fangs sallying forth, and turning up from the
+left side of the mouth, and altogether he had an expression singularly
+forbidding and vindictive. This disagreeable animal, a perfect type of
+what might be called a "church-goer's pug," answered to the name of "My
+Lord." His mistress, a woman of about fifty years of age, corpulent and
+of middle size, was dressed in a costume as gloomy and severe as that of
+Georgette was gay and showy. It consisted of a brown robe, a black silk
+mantle, and a hat of the same dye. The features of this woman might
+have been agreeable in her youth; and her florid cheeks, her correct
+eyebrows, her black eyes, which were still very lively, scarcely
+accorded with the peevish and austere physiognomy which she tried to
+assume. This matron, of slow and discreet gait, was Madame Augustine
+Grivois, first woman to the Princess Saint-Dizier. Not only did the age,
+the face, and the dress of these two women present a striking contrast;
+but the contrast extended itself even to the animals which attended
+them. There were similar differences between Frisky and My Lord, as
+between Georgette and Mrs. Grivois. When the latter perceived the
+little King Charles, she could not restrain a movement of surprise
+and repugnance, which escaped not the notice of the young lady's maid.
+Frisky, who had not retreated one inch, since the apparition of My
+Lord, regarded him valiantly, with a look of defiance, and even advanced
+towards him with an air so decidedly hostile, that the cur, though
+thrice as big as the little King Charles, uttered a howl of distress
+and terror, and sought refuge behind Mrs. Grivois, who bitterly said to
+Georgette:
+
+"It seems to me, miss, that you might dispense with exciting your dog
+thus, and setting him upon mine."
+
+"It was doubtless for the purpose of protecting this respectable but
+ugly animal from similar alarms, that you tried to make us lose Frisky
+yesterday, by driving her into the street through the little garden
+gate. But fortunately an honest young man found Frisky in the Rue de
+Babylone, and brought her back to my mistress. However," continued
+Georgette, "to what, madame, do I owe the pleasure of seeing you this
+morning?"
+
+"I am commanded by the Princess," replied Mrs. Grivois, unable to
+conceal a smile of triumphant satisfaction, "immediately to see Miss
+Adrienne. It regards a very important affair, which I am to communicate
+only to herself."
+
+At these words Georgette became purple, and could not repress a slight
+start of disquietude, which happily escaped Grivois, who was occupied
+with watching over the safety of her pet, whom Frisky continued to snarl
+at with a very menacing aspect; and Georgette, having quickly overcome
+her temporary emotion, firmly answered: "Miss Adrienne went to rest very
+late last night. She has forbidden me to enter her apartment before mid
+day."
+
+"That is very possible: but as the present business is to obey an order
+of the Princess her aunt, you will do well if you please, miss, to
+awaken your mistress immediately."
+
+"My mistress is subject to no one's orders in her own house; and I will
+not disturb her till mid-day, in pursuance of her commands," replied
+Georgette.
+
+"Then I shall go myself," said Mrs. Grivois.
+
+"Florine and Hebe will not admit you. Indeed, here is the key of the
+saloon; and through the saloon only can the apartments of Miss Adrienne
+be entered."
+
+"How! do you dare refuse me permission to execute the orders of the
+Princess?"
+
+"Yes; I dare to commit the great crime of being unwilling to awaken my
+mistress!"
+
+"Ah! such are the results of the blind affection of the Princess for her
+niece," said the matron, with affected grief: "Miss Adrienne no longer
+respects her aunt's orders; and she is surrounded by young hare-brained
+persons, who, from the first dawn of morning, dress themselves out as if
+for ball-going."
+
+"Oh, madame! how came you to revile dress, who were formerly the
+greatest coquette and the most frisky and fluttering of all the
+Princess's women. At least, that is what is still spoken of you in the
+hotel, as having been handed down from time out of mind, by generation
+to generation, even unto ours!"
+
+"How! from generation to generation! do you mean to insinuate that I am
+a hundred years old, Miss Impertinence?"
+
+"I speak of the generations of waiting-women; for, except you, it is the
+utmost if they remain two or three years in the Princess's house, who
+has too many tempers for the poor girls!"
+
+"I forbid you to speak thus of my mistress, whose name some people ought
+not to pronounce but on their knees."
+
+"However," said Georgette, "if one wished to speak ill of--"
+
+"Do you dare!"
+
+"No longer ago than last night, at half past eleven o'clock--"
+
+"Last night?"
+
+"A four-wheeler," continued Georgette, "stopped at a few paces from the
+house. A mysterious personage, wrapped up in a cloak, alighted from it,
+and directly tapped, not at the door, but on the glass of the porter's
+lodge window; and at one o'clock in the morning, the cab was still
+stationed in the street, waiting for the mysterious personage in
+the cloak, who, doubtless, during all that time, was, as you say,
+pronouncing the name of her Highness the Princess on his knees."
+
+Whether Mrs. Grivois had not been instructed as to a visit made to the
+Princess Saint-Dizier by Rodin (for he was the man in the cloak), in the
+middle of the night, after he had become certain of the arrival in
+Paris of General Simon's daughters; or whether Mrs. Grivois thought it
+necessary to appear ignorant of the visit, she replied, shrugging her
+shoulders disdainfully: "I know not what you, mean, madame. I have
+not come here to listen to your impertinent stuff. Once again I ask
+you--will you, or will you not, introduce me to the presence of Miss
+Adrienne?"
+
+"I repeat, madame, that my mistress sleeps, and that she has forbidden
+me to enter her bed-chamber before mid-day."
+
+This conversation took place at some distance from the summer-house,
+at a spot from which the peristyle could be seen at the end of a grand
+avenue, terminating in trees arranged in form of a V. All at once
+Mrs. Grivois, extending her hand in that direction, exclaimed: "Great
+heavens! is it possible? what have I seen?"
+
+"What have you seen?" said Georgette, turning round.
+
+"What have I seen?" repeated Mrs. Grivois, with amazement.
+
+"Yes: what was it?"
+
+"Miss Adrienne."
+
+"Where?" asked Georgette.
+
+"I saw her run up the porch steps. I perfectly recognized her by her
+gait, by her hat, and by her mantle. To come home at eight o'clock in
+the morning!" cried Mrs. Grivois: "it is perfectly incredible!"
+
+"See my lady? Why, you came to see her!" and Georgette burst out into
+fits of laughter: and then said: "Oh! I understand! you wish to out-do
+my story of the four-wheeler last night! It is very neat of you!"
+
+"I repeat," said Mrs. Grivois, "that I have this moment seen--"
+
+"Oh! adone, Mrs. Grivois: if you speak seriously, you are mad!"
+
+"I am mad, am I? because I have a pair of good eyes! The little gate
+that open's on the street lets one into the quincunx near the pavilion.
+It is by that door, doubtless, that mademoiselle has re-entered.
+Oh, what shameful conduct! what will the Princess say to it! Ah!
+her presentiments have not yet been mistaken. See to what her weak
+indulgence of her niece's caprices has led her! It is monstrous!--so
+monstrous, that, though I have seen her with my own eyes, still I can
+scarcely believe it!"
+
+"Since you've gone so far, ma'am, I now insist upon conducting you into
+the apartment of my lady, in order that you may convince yourself, by
+your own senses, that your eyes have deceived you!"
+
+"Oh, you are very cunning, my dear, but not more cunning than I! You
+propose my going now! Yes, yes, I believe you: you are certain that by
+this time I shall find her in her apartment!"
+
+"But, madame, I assure you--"
+
+"All that I can say to you is this: that neither you, nor Florine, nor
+Hebe, shall remain here twenty-four hours. The Princess will put an end
+to this horrible scandal; for I shall immediately inform her of what
+has passed. To go out in the night! Re-enter at eight o'clock in the
+morning! Why, I am all in a whirl! Certainly, if I had not seen it with
+my own eyes, I could not have believed it! Still, it is only what was to
+be expected. It will astonish nobody. Assuredly not! All those to whom I
+am going to relate it, will say, I am quite sure, that it is not at all
+astonishing! Oh! what a blow to our respectable Princess! What a blow
+for her!"
+
+Mrs. Grivois returned precipitately towards the mansion, followed by her
+fat pug, who appeared to be as embittered as herself.
+
+Georgette, active and light, ran, on her part, towards the pavilion, in
+order to apprise Miss de Cardoville that Mrs. Grivois had seen her, or
+fancied she had seen her, furtively enter by the little garden gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. ADRIENNE AT HER TOILET.
+
+About an hour had elapsed since Mrs. Grivois had seen or pretended to
+have seen Adrienne de Cardoville re-enter in the morning the extension
+of Saint-Dizier House.
+
+It is for the purpose, not of excusing, but of rendering intelligible,
+the following scenes, that it is deemed necessary to bring out into the
+light some striking peculiarities in the truly original character of
+Miss de Cardoville.
+
+This originality consisted in an excessive independence of mind, joined
+to a natural horror of whatsoever is repulsive or deformed, and to
+an insatiable desire of being surrounded by everything attractive and
+beautiful. The painter most delighted with coloring and beauty, the
+sculptor most charmed by proportions of form, feel not more than
+Adrienne did the noble enthusiasm which the view of perfect beauty
+always excites in the chosen favorites of nature.
+
+And it was not only the pleasures of sight which this young lady
+loved to gratify: the harmonious modulations of song, the melody of
+instruments, the cadences of poetry, afforded her infinite pleasures;
+while a harsh voice or a discordant noise made her feel the same painful
+impression, or one nearly as painful as that which she involuntarily
+experienced from the sight of a hideous object. Passionately fond of
+flowers, too, and of their sweet scents, there are some perfumes which
+she enjoyed equally with the delights of music or those of plastic
+beauty. It is necessary, alas, to acknowledge one enormity: Adrienne was
+dainty in her food! She valued more than any one else the fresh pulp
+of handsome fruit, the delicate savor of a golden pheasant, cooked to a
+turn, and the odorous cluster of a generous vine.
+
+But Adrienne enjoyed all these pleasures with an exquisite reserve. She
+sought religiously to cultivate and refine the senses given her. She
+would have deemed it black ingratitude to blunt those divine gifts by
+excesses, or to debase them by unworthy selections of objects upon which
+to exercise them; a fault from which, indeed, she was preserved by the
+excessive and imperious delicacy of her taste.
+
+The BEAUTIFUL and the UGLY occupied for her the places which GOOD and
+EVIL holds for others.
+
+Her devotion to grace, elegance, and physical beauty, had led her also
+to the adoration of moral beauty; for if the expression of a low and bad
+passion render uncomely the most beautiful countenances, those which
+are in themselves the most ugly are ennobled, on the contrary, by the
+expression of good feelings and generous sentiments.
+
+In a word, Adrienne was the most complete, the most ideal
+personification of SENSUALITY--not of vulgar, ignorant, non intelligent,
+mistaken sensuousness which is always deceit ful and corrupted by habit
+or by the necessity for gross and ill-regulated enjoyments, but that
+exquisite sensuality which is to the senses what intelligence is to the
+soul.
+
+The independence of this young lady's character was extreme. Certain
+humiliating subjections imposed upon her success by its social position,
+above all things were revolting to her, and she had the hardihood
+to resolve to withdraw herself from them. She was a woman, the most
+womanish that it is possible to imagine--a woman in her timidity as well
+as in her audacity--a woman in her hatred of the brutal despotism of
+men, as well as in her intense disposition to self-devoting herself,
+madly even and blindly, to him who should merit such a devotion from
+her--a woman whose piquant wit was occasionally paradoxical--a superior
+woman, in brief, who entertained a well-grounded disdain and contempt
+for certain men either placed very high or greatly adulated, whom she
+had from time to time met in the drawing-room of her aunt, the Princess
+Saint-Dizier, when she resided with her.
+
+These indispensable explanations being given, we usher, the reader into
+the presence of Adrienne de Cardoville, who had just come out of the
+bath.
+
+It would require all the brilliant colorings of the Venetian school to
+represent that charming scene, which would rather seem to have occurred
+in the sixteenth century, in some palace of Florence or Bologna, than in
+Paris, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, in the month of February, 1832.
+
+Adrienne's dressing-room was a kind of miniature temple seemingly one
+erected and dedicated to the worship of beauty, in gratitude to the
+Maker who has lavished so many charms upon woman, not to be neglected by
+her, or to cover and conceal them with ashes, or to destroy them by
+the contact of her person with sordid and harsh haircloth; but in order
+that, with fervent gratitude for the divine gifts wherewith she is
+endowed, she may enhance her charms with all the illusions of grace and
+all the splendors of apparel, so as to glorify the divine work of her
+own perfections in the eyes of all. Daylight was admitted into this
+semicircular apartment, through one of those double windows, contrived
+for the preservation of heat, so happily imported from Germany. The
+walls of the pavilion being constructed of stone of great thickness, the
+depth of the aperture for the windows was therefore very great. That of
+Adrienne's dressing-room was closed on the outside by a sash containing
+a single large pane of plate glass, and within, by another large plate
+of ground glass. In the interval or space of about three feet left
+between these two transparent enclosures, there was a case or box filled
+with furze mould, whence sprung forth climbing plants, which, directed
+round the ground glass, formed a rich garland of leaves and flowers. A
+garnet damask tapestry, rich with harmoniously blended arabesques, in
+the purest style, covered the walls and a thick carpet of similar color
+was extended over the floor: and this sombre ground, presented by the
+floor and walls, marvellously enhanced the effects of all the harmonious
+ornaments and decorations of the chamber.
+
+Under the window, opposite to the south, was placed Adrienne's dressing
+case, a real masterpiece of the skill of the goldsmith. Upon a large
+tablet of lapis-lazuli, there were scattered boxes of jewels, their
+lids precisely enamelled; several scent boxes of rock crystal, and other
+implements and utensils of the toilet, some formed of shells, some of
+mother-of-pearl, and others of ivory, covered with ornaments of gold in
+extraordinary taste. Two large figures, modelled in silver with antique
+purity; supported an oval swing mirror, which had for its rim, in place
+of a frame curiously carved, a fresh garland of natural flowers, renewed
+every day like a nosegay for a ball.
+
+Two enormous Japanese vases, of purple and gold, three feet each in
+diameter, were placed upon the carpet on each side of the toilet, and,
+filled with camellias, ibiscures, and cape jasmine, in full flower
+formed a sort of grove, diversified with the most brilliant colors. At
+the farther end of the apartment, opposite the casement, was to be seen,
+surrounded by another mass of flowers, a reduction in white marble of
+the enchanting group of Daphnis and Chloe, the more chaste ideal of
+graceful modesty and youthful beauty.
+
+Two golden lamps burned perfumes upon the same pedestal which supported
+those two charming figures. A coffer of frosted silver, set off with
+small figures in jewelry and precious stones, and supported on four
+feet of gilt bronze, contained various necessaries for the toilette;
+two frosted Psyches, decorated with diamond ear-rings; some excellent
+drawings from Raphael and Titian, painted by Adrienne herself,
+consisting of portraits of both men and women of exquisite beauty;
+several consoles of oriental jasper, supporting ewers and basins of
+silver and of silver gilt, richly chased and filled with scented waters;
+a voluptuously rich divan, some seats, and an illuminated gilt fable,
+completed the furniture of this chamber, the atmosphere of which was
+impregnated with the sweetest perfumes.
+
+Adrienne, whom her attendants had just helped from the bath, was seated
+before her toilette, her three women surrounding her. By a caprice, or
+rather by a necessary and logical impulse of her soul, filled as it
+was with the love of beauty and of harmony in all things, Adrienne had
+wished the young women who served her to be very pretty, and be dressed
+with attention and with a charming originality. We have already seen
+Georgette, a piquante blonde, attired in her attractive costume of an
+intriguing lady's maid of Marivaux; and her two companions were quite
+equal to her both in gracefulness and gentility.
+
+One of them, named Florine, a tall, delicately slender, and elegant
+girl, with the air and form of Diana Huntress, was of a pale brown
+complexion. Her thick black hair was turned up behind, where it was
+fastened with a long golden pin. Like the two other girls, her arms were
+uncovered to facilitate the performance of her duties about and upon the
+person of her charming mistress. She wore a dress of that gay green so
+familiar to the Venetian painters. Her petticoat was very ample. Her
+slender waist curved in from under the plaits of a tucker of white
+cambric, plaited in five minute folds, and fastened by five gold
+buttons. The third of Adrienne's women had a face so fresh and
+ingenuous, a waist so delicate, so pleasing, and so finished, that her
+mistress had given her the name of Hebe. Her dress of a delicate rose
+color, and Grecian cut, displayed her charming neck, and her beautiful
+arms up to the very shoulders. The physiognomy of these three young
+women was laughter loving and happy. On their features there was no
+expression of that bitter sullenness, willing and hated obedience, or
+offensive familiarity, or base and degraded deference, which are the
+ordinary results of a state of servitude. In the zealous eagerness of
+the cares and attentions which they lavished upon Adrienne, there seemed
+to be at least as much of affection as of deference and respect. They
+appeared to derive an ardent pleasure from the services which they
+rendered to their lovely mistress. One would have thought that they
+attached to the dressing and embellishment of her person all the merits
+and the enjoyment arising from the execution of a work of art, in the
+accomplishing of which, fruitful of delights, they were stimulated by
+the passions of love, of pride, and of joy.
+
+The sun beamed brightly upon the toilet-case, placed in front of the
+window. Adrienne was seated on a chair, its back elevated a little
+more than usual. She was enveloped in a long morning-gown of blue silk,
+embroidered with a leaf of the same color, which was fitted close to her
+waist, as exquisitely slender and delicate as that of a child of twelve
+years, by a girdle with floating tags. Her neck, delicately slender
+and flexible as a bird's, was uncovered, as were also her shoulders and
+arms, and all were of incomparable beauty. Despite the vulgarity of
+the comparison, the purest ivory alone can give an idea of the dazzling
+whiteness of her polished satin skin, of a texture so fresh and so firm,
+that some drops of water, collected and still remaining about the
+roots of her hair from the bath, rolled in serpentine lines over her
+shoulders, like pearls, or beads, of crystal, over white marble.
+
+And what gave enhanced lustre to this wondrous carnation, known but to
+auburn-headed beauties, was the deep purple of her, humid lips,--the
+roseate transparency of her small ears, of her dilated nostrils, and
+her nails, as bright and glossy, as if they had been varnished. In every
+spot, indeed, where her pure arterial blood, full of animation and
+heat, could make its way to the skin and shine through the surface, it
+proclaimed her high health and the vivid life and joyous buoyancy of her
+glorious youth. Her eyes were very large, and of a velvet softness. Now
+they glanced, sparkling and shining with comic humor or intelligence
+and wit; and now they widened and extended themselves, languishing and
+swimming between their double fringes of long crisp eyelashes, of as
+deep a black as her finely-drawn and exquisitely arched eyebrows; for,
+by a delightful freak of nature, she had black eyebrows and eyelashes to
+contrast with the golden red of her hair. Her forehead, small like those
+of ancient Grecian statues, formed with the rest of her face a perfect
+oval. Her nose, delicately curved, was slightly aquiline; the enamel of
+her teeth glistened when the light fell upon them; and her vermeil
+mouth voluptuously sensual, seemed to call for sweet kisses, and the
+gay smiles and delectations of dainty and delicious pleasure. It is
+impossible to behold or to conceive a carriage of the head freer, more
+noble, or more elegant than hers; thanks to the great distance which
+separated the neck and the ear from their attachment to her outspread
+and dimpled shoulders. We have already said that Adrienne was
+red-haired; but it was the redness of many of the admirable portraits
+of women by Titian and Leonardo da Vinci,--that is to say, molten gold
+presents not reflections more delightfully agreeable or more glittering,
+than the naturally undulating mass of her very long hair, as soft and
+fine as silk, so long, that, when let loose, it reached the floor; in
+it, she could wholly envelop herself, like another Venus arising from
+the sea. At the present moment, Adrienne's tresses were ravishing to
+behold; Georgette, her arms bare, stood behind her mistress, and had
+carefully collected into one of her small white hands, those splendid
+threads whose naturally ardent brightness was doubled in the sunshine.
+When the pretty lady's-maid pulled a comb of ivory into the midst of
+the undulating and golden waves of that enormously magnificent skein of
+silk, one might have said that a thousand sparks of fire darted forth
+and coruscated away from it in all directions. The sunshine, too,
+reflected not less golden and fiery rays from numerous clusters of
+spiral ringlets, which, divided upon Adrienne's forehead, fell over her
+cheeks, and in their elastic flexibility caressed the risings of her
+snowy bosom, to whose charming undulations they adapted and applied
+themselves. Whilst Georgette, standing, combed the beautiful locks of
+her mistress, Hebe, with one knee upon the floor, and having upon
+the other the sweet little foot of Miss Cardoville, busied herself in
+fitting it with a remarkably small shoe of black satin, and crossed its
+slender ties over a silk stocking of a pale yet rosy flesh color, which
+imprisoned the smallest and finest ankle in the world. Florine, a little
+farther back, presented to her mistress, in a jeweled box, a perfumed
+paste, with which Adrienne slightly rubbed her dazzling hands
+and outspread fingers, which seemed tinted with carmine to their
+extremities. Let us not forget Frisky, who, couched in the lap of
+her mistress, opened her great eyes with all her might, and seemed to
+observe the different operations of Adrienne's toilette with grave and
+reflective attention. A silver bell being sounded from without, Florine,
+at a sign from her mistress, went out and presently returned, bearing
+a letter upon a small silver-gilt salve. Adrienne, while her women
+continued fitting on her shoes, dressing her hair, and arranging her in
+her habiliments, took the letter, which was written by the steward of
+the estate of Cardoville, and read aloud as follows:
+
+"HONORED MADAME,
+
+"Knowing your goodness of heart and generosity, I venture to address you
+with respectful confidence. During twenty years I served the late Count
+and Duke of Cardoville, your noble father, I believe I may truly say,
+with probity and zeal. The castle is now sold; so that I and my wife, in
+our old age, behold ourselves about to be dismissed, and left destitute
+of all resources: which, alas! is very hard at our time of life."
+
+"Poor creature!" said Adrienne, interrupting herself in reading: "my
+father, certainly, always prided himself upon their devotion to him, and
+their probity." She continued:
+
+"There does, indeed, remain to us a means of retaining our place
+here; but it would constrain us to be guilty of baseness; and, be the
+consequences to us what they may, neither I nor my wife wish to purchase
+our bread at such a price."
+
+"Good, very good," said Adrienne, "always the same--dignity even in
+poverty--it is the sweet perfume of a flower, not the less sweet because
+it has bloomed in a meadow."
+
+"In order to explain to you, honored madame, the unworthy task exacted
+from us, it is necessary to inform you, in the first place, that M.
+Rodin came here from Paris two days ago."
+
+"Ah! M. Rodin!" said Mademoiselle de Cardoville, interrupting herself
+anew; "the secretary of Abbe d'Aigrigny! I am not at all surprised at
+him being engaged in a perfidious or black intrigue. But let us see."
+
+"M. Rodin came from Paris to announce to us that the estate was sold,
+and that he was sure of being able to obtain our continuance in our
+place, if we would assist him in imposing a priest not of good character
+upon the new proprietress as her future confessor; and if, the better
+to attain this end, we would consent to calumniate another priest,
+a deserving and excellent man, much loved and much respected in the
+country. Even that is not all. I was required to write twice or thrice
+a week to M. Rodin, and to relate to him everything that should occur in
+the house. I ought to acknowledge, honored madame, that these infamous
+proposals were as much as possible disguised and dissimulated under
+sufficiently specious pretexts; but, notwithstanding the aspect which
+with more or less skill it was attempted to give to the affair, it was
+precisely and substantially what I have now had the honor of stating to
+you."
+
+"Corruption, calumny, and false and treacherous impeachment!" said
+Adrienne, with disgust: "I cannot think of such wretches without
+involuntarily feeling my mind shocked by dismal ideas of black,
+venomous, and vile reptiles, of aspects most hideous indeed. How much
+more do I love to dwell upon the consoling thought of honest Dupont and
+his wife!" Adrienne proceeded:
+
+"Believe me, we hesitated not an instant. We quit Cardoville, which
+has been our home for the last twenty years;--but we shall quit it like
+honest people, and with the consciousness of our integrity. And now,
+honored madame, if, in the brilliant circle in which you move--you,
+who are so benevolent and amiable--could find a place for us by your
+recommendation, then, with endless gratitude to you, we shall escape
+from a position of most cruel embarrassment."
+
+"Surely, surely," said Adrienne, "they shall not in vain appeal to me.
+To wrest excellent persons from the grip of M. Rodin, is not only a
+duty but a pleasure: for it is at once a righteous and a dangerous
+enterprise; and dearly do I love to brave powerful oppressors!" Adrienne
+again went on reading:
+
+"After having thus spoken to you of ourselves, honored madame, permit
+us to implore your protection for other unfortunates; for it would be
+wicked to think only of one's self. Three days ago, two shipwrecks took
+place upon our ironbound coast. A few passengers only were saved, and
+were conducted hither, where I and my wife gave them all necessary
+attentions. All these passengers have departed for Paris, except one,
+who still remains, his wounds having hitherto prevented him from leaving
+the house, and, indeed, they will constrain him to remain for some days
+to come. He is a young East Indian prince, of about twenty years of age,
+and he appears to be as amiable and good as he is handsome, which is
+not a little to say, though he has a tawny skin, like the rest of his
+countrymen, as I understand."
+
+"An Indian prince! twenty years of age! young, amiable, and handsome!"
+exclaimed Adrienne, gayly; "this is quite delightful, and not at all
+of an ordinary or vulgar nature! Oh! this Indian prince has already
+awakened all my sympathies! But what can I do with this Adonis from
+the banks of the Ganges, who has come to wreck himself upon the Picardy
+coast?"
+
+Adrienne's three women looked at her with much astonishment, though they
+were accustomed to the singular eccentricities of her character.
+
+Georgette and Hebe even indulged in discreet and restrained smiles.
+Florine, the tall and beautiful pale brown girl, also smiled like her
+pretty companions; but it was after a short pause of seeming reflection,
+as if she had previously been entirely engrossed in listening to and
+recollecting the minutest words of her mistress, who, though powerfully
+interested by the situation of the "Adonis from Ganges banks," as she
+had called him, continued to read Dupont's letter:
+
+"One of the countrymen of the Indian prince, who has also remained to
+attend upon him, has given me to understand that the youthful prince
+has lost in the shipwreck all he possessed, and knows not how to get to
+Paris, where his speedy presence is required by some affairs of the
+very greatest importance. It is not from the prince himself that I have
+obtained this information: no; he appears to be too dignified and
+proud to proclaim of his fate: but his countryman, more communicative,
+confidentially told me what I have stated, adding, that his young
+compatriot has already been subjected to great calamities, and that his
+father, who was the sovereign of an Indian kingdom, has been killed by
+the English, who have also dispossessed his son of his crown."
+
+"This is very singular," said Adrienne, thoughtfully. "These
+circumstances recall to my mind that my father often mentioned that one
+of our relations was espoused in India by a native monarch; and that
+General Simon: (whom they have created a marshal) had entered into his
+service." Then interrupting herself to indulge in a smile, she added,
+"Gracious! this affair will be quite odd and fantastical! Such things
+happen to nobody but me; and then people say that I am the uncommon
+creature! But it seems to me that it is not I, but Providence, which, in
+truth, sometimes shows itself very eccentric! But let us see if worthy
+Dupont gives the name of this handsome prince?"
+
+"We trust, honored madame, that you will pardon our boldness: but we
+should have thought ourselves very selfish, if, while stating to you our
+own griefs, we had not also informed you that there is with us a brave
+and estimable prince involved in so much distress. In fine, lady, trust
+to me; I am old; and I have had much experience of men; and it was
+only necessary to see the nobleness of expression and the sweetness
+of countenance of this young Indian, to enable me to judge that he is
+worthy of the interest which I have taken the liberty to request in his
+behalf. It would be sufficient to transmit to him a small sum of money
+for the purchase of some European clothing; for he has lost all his
+Indian vestments in the shipwreck."
+
+"Good heavens! European clothing!" exclaimed Adrienne, gayly. "Poor
+young prince! Heaven preserve him from that; and me also! Chance has
+sent hither from the heart of India, a mortal so far favored as never
+to have worn the abominable European costume--those hideous habits, and
+frightful hats, which render the men so ridiculous, so ugly, that in
+truth there is not a single good quality to be discovered in them, nor
+one spark of what can either captivate or attract! There comes to me at
+last a handsome young prince from the East, where the men are clothed
+in silk and cashmere. Most assuredly I'll not miss this rare and
+unique opportunity of exposing myself to a very serious and formidable
+temptation! No, no! not a European dress for me, though poor Dupont
+requests it! But the name--the name of this dear prince! Once more, what
+a singular event is this! If it should turn out to be that cousin from
+beyond the Ganges! During my childhood, I have heard so much in praise
+of his royal father! Oh! I shall be quite ravished to give his son the
+kind reception which he merits!" And then she read on:
+
+"If, besides this small sum, honored madame, you are so kind as to
+give him, and also his companion, the means of reaching Paris, you
+will confer a very great service upon this poor young prince, who is at
+present so unfortunate.
+
+"To conclude, I know enough of your delicacy to be aware that it would
+perhaps be agreeable to you to afford this succor to the prince without
+being known as his benefactress; in which case, I beg that you will be
+pleased to command me; and you may rely upon my discretion. If, on the
+contrary, you wish to address it directly to himself, his name is, as it
+has been written for me by his countrymen, Prince Djalma, son of Radja
+sing, King of Mundi."
+
+"Djalma!" said Adrienne, quickly, and appearing to call up her
+recollections, "Radja-sing! Yes--that is it! These are the very names
+that my father so often repeated, while telling me that there was
+nothing more chivalric or heroic in the world than the old king, our
+relation by marriage; and the son has not derogated, it would seem, from
+that character. Yes, Djalma, Radja-sing--once more, that is it--such
+names are not so common," she added, smiling, "that one should either
+forget or confound them with others. This Djalma is my cousin! Brave
+and good--young and charming! above all, he has never worn the
+horrid European dress! And destitute of every resource! This is quite
+ravishing! It is too much happiness at once! Quick, quick let us
+improvise a pretty fairy tale, of which the handsome and beloved prince
+shall be the hero! The poor bird of the golden and azure plumage has
+wandered into our dismal climate; but he will find here, at least,
+something to remind him of his native region of sunshine and perfumes!"
+Then, addressing one of her women, she said: "Georgette, take paper and
+write, my child!" The young girl went to the gilt, illuminated table,
+which contained materials for writing; and, having seated herself, she
+said to her mistress: "I await orders."
+
+Adrienne de Cardoville, whose charming countenance was radiant with the
+gayety of happiness and joy, proceeded to dictate the following letter
+to a meritorious old painter, who had long since taught her the arts of
+drawing and designing; in which arts she excelled, as indeed she did in
+all others:
+
+"MY DEAR TITIAN, MY GOOD VERONESE, MY WORTHY RAPHAEL.
+
+"You can render me a very great service,--and you will do it, I am
+sure, with that perfect and obliging complaisance by which you are ever
+distinguished.
+
+"It is to go immediately and apply yourself to the skillful hand who
+designed my last costumes of the fifteenth century. But the present
+affair is to procure modern East Indian dresses for a young man--yes,
+sir--for a young man,--and according to what I imagine of him, I fancy
+that you can cause his measure to be taken from the Antinous, or rather,
+from the Indian Bacchus; yes--that will be more likely.
+
+"It is necessary that these vestments be at once of perfect propriety
+and correctness, magnificently rich, and of the greatest elegance. You
+will choose the most beautiful stuffs possible; and endeavor, above all
+things, that they be, or resemble, tissues of Indian manufacture; and
+you will add to them, for turbans and sashes, six splendid long cashmere
+shawls, two of them white, two red, and two orange; as nothing suits
+brown complexions better than those colors.
+
+"This done (and I allow you at the utmost only two or three days), you
+will depart post in my carriage for Cardoville Manor House, which
+you know so well. The steward, the excellent Dupont, one of your old
+friends, will there introduce you to a young Indian Prince, named
+Djalma; and you will tell that most potent grave, and reverend signior,
+of another quarter of the globe, that you have come on the part of an
+unknown friend, who, taking upon himself the duty of a brother, sends
+him what is necessary to preserve him from the odious fashions
+of Europe. You will add, that his friend expects him with so much
+impatience that he conjures him to come to Paris immediately. If he
+objects that he is suffering, you will tell him that my carriage is an
+excellent bed-closet; and you will cause the bedding, etc., which it
+contains, to be fitted up, till he finds it quite commodious. Remember
+to make very humble excuses for the unknown friend not sending to the
+prince either rich palanquins, or even, modestly, a single elephant;
+for alas! palanquins are only to be seen at the opera; and there are
+no elephants but those in the menagerie,--though this must make us seem
+strangely barbarous in his eyes.
+
+"As soon as you shall have decided on your departure, perform the
+journey as rapidly as possible, and bring here, into my house, in the
+Rue de Babylone (what predestination! that I should dwell in the street
+of BABYLON,--a name which must at least accord with the ear of an
+Oriental),--you will bring hither, I say, this dear prince, who is so
+happy as to have been born in a country of flowers, diamonds, and sun!
+
+"Above all, you will have the kindness, my old and worthy friend, not
+to be at all astonished at this new freak, and refrain from indulging in
+extravagant conjectures. Seriously, the choice which I have made of you
+in this affair,--of you, whom I esteem and most sincerely honor,--is
+because it is sufficient to say to you that, at the bottom of all this,
+there is something more than a seeming act of folly."
+
+In uttering these last words, the tone of Adrienne was as serious and
+dignified as it had been previously comic and jocose. But she quickly
+resumed, more gayly, dictating to Georgette.
+
+"Adieu, my old friend. I am something like that commander of ancient
+days, whose heroic nose and conquering chin you have so often made me
+draw: I jest with the utmost freedom of spirit even in the moment
+of battle: yes, for within an hour I shall give battle, a pitched
+battle--to my dear pew-dwelling aunt. Fortunately, audacity and courage
+never failed me, and I burn with impatience for the engagement with my
+austere princess.
+
+"A kiss, and a thousand heartfelt recollections to your excellent wife.
+If I speak of her here, who is so justly respected, you will please to
+understand, it is to make you quite at ease as to the consequences of
+this running away with, for my sake, a charming young prince,--for it is
+proper to finish well where I should have begun, by avowing to you that
+he is charming indeed!
+
+"Once more, adieu!"
+
+Then, addressing Georgette, said she, "Have you done writing, chit?"
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Oh, add this postscript."
+
+"P.S.--I send you draft on sight on my banker for all expenses. Spare
+nothing. You know I am quite a grand seigneur. I must use this masculine
+expression, since your sex have exclusively appropriated to yourselves
+(tyrants as you are) a term, so significant as it is of noble
+generosity."
+
+"Now, Georgette," said Adrienne; "bring me an envelope, and the letter,
+that I may sign it." Mademoiselle de Cardoville took the pen that
+Georgette presented to her, signed the letter, and enclosed in it an
+order upon her banker, which was expressed thus:
+
+"Please pay M. Norval, on demand without grace, the sum of money he may
+require for expenses incurred on my account.
+
+                  "ADRIENNE DE CARDOVILLE."
+
+During all this scene, while Georgette wrote, Florine and Hebe had
+continued to busy themselves with the duties of their mistress's
+toilette, who had put off her morning gown, and was now in full dress,
+in order to wait upon the princess, her aunt. From the sustained and
+immovably fixed attention with which Florine had listened to Adrienne's
+dictating to Georgette her letter to M. Norval, it might easily have
+been seen that, as was her habit indeed, she endeavored to retain in her
+memory even the slightest words of her mistress.
+
+"Now, chit," said Adrienne to Hebe, "send this letter immediately to M.
+Norval."
+
+The same silver bell was again rung from without. Hebe moved towards the
+door of the dressing-room, to go and inquire what it was, and also
+to execute the order of her mistress as to the letter. But Florine
+precipitated herself, so to speak, before her, and so as to prevent her
+leaving the apartment; and said to Adrienne:
+
+"Will it please my lady for me to send this letter? I have occasion to
+go to the mansion."
+
+"Go, Florine, then," said Adrienne, "seeing that you wish it. Georgette,
+seal the letter."
+
+At the end of a second or two, during which Georgette had sealed the
+letter, Hebe returned.
+
+"Madame," said she, re-entering, "the working-man who brought back
+Frisky yesterday, entreats you to admit him for an instant. He is very
+pale, and he appears quite sad."
+
+"Would that he may already have need of me! I should be too happy!" said
+Adrienne gayly. "Show the excellent young man into the little saloon.
+And, Florine, despatch this letter immediately."
+
+Florine went out. Miss de Cardoville, followed by Frisky, entered the
+little reception-room, where Agricola awaited her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. THE INTERVIEW.
+
+When Adrienne de Cardoville entered the saloon where Agricola expected
+her, she was dressed with extremely elegant simplicity. A robe of
+deep blue, perfectly fitted to her shape, embroidered in front with
+interlacings of black silk, according to the then fashion, outlined
+her nymph-like figure, and her rounded bosom. A French cambric collar,
+fastened by a large Scotch pebble, set as a brooch, served her for a
+necklace. Her magnificent golden hair formed a framework for her fair
+countenance, with an incredible profusion of long and light spiral
+tresses, which reached nearly to her waist.
+
+Agricola, in order to save explanations with his father, and to make him
+believe that he had indeed gone to the workshop of M. Hardy, had been
+obliged to array himself in his working dress; he had put on a new
+blouse though, and the collar of his shirt, of stout linen, very white,
+fell over upon a black cravat, negligently tied; his gray trousers
+allowed his well polished boots to be seen; and he held between his
+muscular hands a cap of fine woolen cloth, quite new. To sum up, his
+blue blouse, embroidered with red, showing off the nervous chest of the
+young blacksmith, and indicating his robust shoulders, falling down
+in graceful folds, put not the least constraint upon his free and easy
+gait, and became him much better than either frock-coat or dress-coat
+would have done. While awaiting Miss de Cardoville, Agricola
+mechanically examined a magnificent silver vase, admirably graven. A
+small tablet, of the same metal, fitted into a cavity of its antique
+stand, bore the words--"Chased by JEAN MARIE, working chaser, 1831."
+
+Adrienne had stepped so lightly upon the carpet of her saloon, only
+separated from another apartment by the doors, that Agricola had not
+perceived the young lady's entrance. He started, and turned quickly
+round, upon hearing a silver and brilliant voice say to him-"That is a
+beautiful vase, is it not, sir?"
+
+"Very beautiful, madame," answered Agricola greatly embarrassed.
+
+"You may see from it that I like what is equitable." added Miss de
+Cardoville, pointing with her finger to the little silver tablet;--"an
+artist puts his name upon his painting; an author publishes his on the
+title-page of his book; and I contend that an artisan ought also to have
+his name connected with his workmanship."
+
+"Oh, madame, so this name?"
+
+"Is that of the poor chaser who executed this masterpiece, at the order
+of a rich goldsmith. When the latter sold me the vase, he was amazed at
+my eccentricity, he would have almost said at my injustice, when, after
+having made him tell me the name of the author of this production,
+I ordered his name to be inscribed upon it, instead of that of the
+goldsmith, which had already been affixed to the stand. In the absence
+of the rich profits, let the artisan enjoy the fame of his skill. Is it
+not just, sir?"
+
+It would have been impossible for Adrienne to commence the conversation
+more graciously: so that the blacksmith, already beginning to feel a
+little more at ease, answered:
+
+"Being a mechanic myself, madame, I cannot but be doubly affected by
+such a proof of your sense of equity and justice."
+
+"Since you are a mechanic, sir," resumed Adrienne, "I cannot but
+felicitate myself on having so suitable a hearer. But please to be
+seated."
+
+With a gesture full of affability, she pointed to an armchair of purple
+silk embroidered with gold, sitting down herself upon a tete-a-tete of
+the same materials.
+
+Seeing Agricola's hesitation, who again cast down his eyes with
+embarrassment, Adrienne, to encourage him, showed him Frisky, and
+said to him gayly: "This poor little animal, to which I am very much
+attached, will always afford me a lively remembrance of your obliging
+complaisance, sir. And this visit seems to me to be of happy augury;
+I know not what good presentiment whispers to me, that perhaps I shall
+have the pleasure of being useful to you in some affair."
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, resolutely, "my name is Baudoin: a blacksmith
+in the employment of M. Hardy, at Pressy, near the city. Yesterday you
+offered me your purse and I refused it: to-day, I have come to request
+of you perhaps ten or twenty times the sum that you had generously
+proposed. I have said thus much all at once, madame, because it causes
+me the greatest effort. The words blistered my lips, but now I shall be
+more at ease."
+
+"I appreciate the delicacy of your scruples, sir," said Adrienne; "but
+if you knew me, you would address me without fear. How much do you
+require?"
+
+"I do not know, madame," answered Agricola.
+
+"I beg your pardon. You don't know what sum?"
+
+"No madame; and I come to you to request, not only the sum necessary to
+me, but also information as to what that sum is."
+
+"Let us see, sir," said Adrienne, smiling, "explain this to me. In spite
+of my good will, you feel that I cannot divine, all at once, what it is
+that is required."
+
+"Madame, in two words, I can state the truth. I have a food old mother,
+who in her youth, broke her health by excessive labor, to enable her to
+bring me up; and not only me, but a poor abandoned child whom she
+had picked up. It is my turn now to maintain her; and that I have the
+happiness of doing. But in order to do so, I have only my labor. If I am
+dragged from my employment, my mother will be without support."
+
+"Your mother cannot want for anything now, sir, since I interest myself
+for her."
+
+"You will interest yourself for her, madame?" said Agricola.
+
+"Certainly," replied Adrienne.
+
+"But you don't know her," exclaimed the blacksmith.
+
+"Now I do; yes."
+
+"Oh, madame!" said Agricola, with emotion, after a moment's silence.
+"I understand you. But indeed you have a noble heart. Mother Bunch was
+right."
+
+"Mother Bunch?" said Adrienne, looking at Agricola with a very surprised
+air; for what he said to her was an enigma.
+
+The blacksmith, who blushed not for his friends, replied frankly.
+
+"Madame, permit me to explain, to you. Mother Bunch is a poor and very
+industrious young workwoman, with whom I have been brought up. She
+is deformed, which is the reason why she is called Mother Bunch. But
+though, on the one hand, she is sunk, as low as you are highly elevated
+on the other, yet as regards the heart--as to delicacy--oh, lady, I am
+certain that your heart is of equal worth with hers! That was at once
+her own thought, after I had related to her in what manner, yesterday,
+you had presented me with that beautiful flower."
+
+"I can assure you, sir," said Adrienne, sincerely touched, "that this
+comparison flatters and honors me more than anything else that you could
+say to me,--a heart that remains good and delicate, in spite of cruel
+misfortunes, is so rare a treasure; while it is very easy to be good,
+when we have youth and beauty, and to be delicate and generous, when
+we are rich. I accept, then, your comparison; but on condition that
+you will quickly put me in a situation to deserve it. Pray go on,
+therefore."
+
+In spite of the gracious cordiality of Miss de Cardoville, there was
+always observable in her so much of that natural dignity which arises
+from independence of character, so much elevation of soul and nobleness
+of sentiment that Agricola, forgetting the ideal physical beauty of his
+protectress, rather experienced for her the emotions of an affectionate
+and kindly, though profound respect, which offered a singular and
+striking contrast with the youth and gayety of the lovely being who
+inspired him with this sentiment.
+
+"If my mother alone, madame, were exposed to the rigor which I dread.
+I should not be so greatly disquieted with the fear of a compulsory
+suspension of my employment. Among poor people, the poor help one
+another; and my mother is worshipped by all the inmates of our house,
+our excellent neighbors, who would willingly succor her. But, they
+themselves are far from being well off; and as they would incur
+privations by assisting her, their little benefit would still be more
+painful to my mother than the endurance even of misery by herself. And
+besides, it is not only for my mother that my exertions are required,
+but for my father, whom we have not seen for eighteen years, and who has
+just arrived from Siberia, where he remained during all that time, from
+zealous devotion to his former general, now Marshal Simon."
+
+"Marshal Simon!" said Adrienne, quickly, with an expression of much
+surprise.
+
+"Do you know the marshal, madame?"
+
+"I do not personally know him, but he married a lady of our family."
+
+"What joy!" exclaimed the blacksmith, "then the two young ladies, his
+daughters, whom my father has brought from Russia, are your relations!"
+
+"Has Marshal Simon two daughters?" asked Adrienne, more and more
+astonished and interested.
+
+"Yes, madame, two little angels of fifteen or sixteen, and so pretty,
+so sweet; they are twins so very much alike, as to be mistaken for one
+another. Their mother died in exile; and the little she possessed having
+been confiscated, they have come hither with my father, from the depths
+of Siberia, travelling very wretchedly; but he tried to make them forget
+so many privations by the fervency of his devotion and his tenderness.
+My excellent father! you will not believe, madame, that, with the
+courage of a lion, he has all the love and tenderness of a mother."
+
+"And where are the dear children, sir?" asked Adrienne.
+
+"At our home, madame. It is that which renders my position so very hard;
+that which has given me courage to come to you; it is not but that my
+labor would be sufficient for our little household, even thus augmented;
+but that I am about to be arrested."
+
+"About to be arrested? For what?"
+
+"Pray, madame, have the goodness to read this letter, which has been
+sent by some one to Mother Bunch."
+
+Agricola gave to Miss de Cardoville the anonymous letter which had been
+received by the workwoman.
+
+After having read the letter, Adrienne said to the blacksmith, with
+surprise, "It appears, sir, you are a poet!"
+
+"I have neither the ambition nor the pretension to be one, madame. Only,
+when I return to my mother after a day's toil, and often, even while
+forging my iron, in order to divert and relax my attention, I amuse
+myself with rhymes, sometimes composing an ode, sometimes a song."
+
+"And your song of the Freed Workman, which is mentioned in this letter,
+is, therefore, very disaffected--very dangerous?"
+
+"Oh, no, madame; quite the contrary. For myself, I have the good fortune
+to be employed in the factory of M. Hardy, who renders the condition of
+his workpeople as happy as that of their less fortunate comrades is the
+reverse; and I had limited myself to attempt, in favor of the great
+mass of the working classes, an equitable, sincere, warm, and earnest
+claim--nothing more. But you are aware, perhaps, Madame, that in
+times of conspiracy, and commotion, people are often incriminated and
+imprisoned on very slight grounds. Should such a misfortune befall me,
+what will become of my mother, my father, and the two orphans whom we
+are bound to regard as part of our family until the return of their
+father, Marshal Simon? It is on this account, madame, that, if I remain,
+I run the risk of being arrested. I have come to you to request you to
+provide surety for me; so that I should not be compelled to exchange
+the workshop for the prison, in which case I can answer for it that the
+fruits of my labor will suffice for all."
+
+"Thank the stars!" said Adrienne, gayly, "this affair will arrange
+itself quite easily. Henceforth, Mr. Poet, you shall draw your
+inspirations in the midst of good fortune instead of adversity. Sad
+muse! But first of all, bonds shall be given for you."
+
+"Oh, madame, you have saved us!"
+
+"To continue," said Adrienne, "the physician of our family is intimately
+connected with a very important minister (understand that, as you like,"
+said she, smiling, "you will not deceive yourself much). The doctor
+exercises very great influence over this great statesman; for he has
+always had the happiness of recommending to him, on account of his
+health; the sweets and repose of private life, to the very eve of the
+day on which his portfolio was taken from him. Keep yourself, then,
+perfectly at ease. If the surety be insufficient, we shall be able to
+devise some other means.
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, with great emotion, "I am indebted to you for
+the repose, perhaps for the life of my mother. Believe that I shall ever
+be grateful."
+
+"That is all quite simple. Now for another thing. It is proper that
+those who have too much should have the right of coming to the aid of
+those who have too little. Marshal Simon's daughters are members of my
+family, and they will reside here with me, which will be more suitable.
+You will apprise your worthy mother of this; and in the evening, besides
+going to thank her for the hospitality which she has shown to my young
+relations, I shall fetch them home."
+
+At this moment Georgette, throwing open the door which separated the
+room from an adjacent apartment, hurriedly entered, with an affrighted
+look, exclaiming:
+
+"Oh, madame, something extraordinary is going on in the street."
+
+"How so? Explain yourself," said Adrienne.
+
+"I went to conduct my dressmaker to the little garden-gate," said
+Georgette; "where I saw some ill-looking men, attentively examining the
+walls and windows of the little out-building belonging to the pavilion,
+as if they wished to spy out some one."
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, with chagrin, "I have not been deceived. They
+are after me."
+
+"What say you?"
+
+"I thought I was followed, from the moment when I left the Rue St.
+Merry: and now it is beyond doubt. They must have seen me enter your
+house; and are on the watch to arrest me. Well, now that your interest
+has been acquired for my mother,--now that I have no farther uneasiness
+for Marshal Simon's daughters,--rather than hazard your exposure to
+anything the least unpleasant, I run to deliver myself up."
+
+"Beware of that sir," said Adrienne, quickly. "Liberty is too precious
+to be voluntarily sacrificed. Besides, Georgette may have been mistaken.
+But in any case, I entreat you not to surrender yourself. Take
+my advice, and escape being arrested. That, I think, will greatly
+facilitate my measures; for I am of opinion that justice evinces a great
+desire to keep possession of those upon whom she has once pounced."
+
+"Madame," said Hebe, now also entering with a terrified look, "a man
+knocked at the little door, and inquired if a young man in a blue blouse
+has not entered here. He added, that the person whom he seeks is
+named Agricola Baudoin, and that he has something to tell him of great
+importance."
+
+"That's my name," said Agricola; "but the important information is a
+trick to draw me out."
+
+"Evidently," said Adrienne; "and therefore we must play off trick for
+trick. What did you answer, child?" added she, addressing herself to
+Hebe.
+
+"I answered, that I didn't know what he was talking about."
+
+"Quite right," said Adrienne: "and the man who put the question?"
+
+"He went away, madame."
+
+"Without doubt to come back again, soon," said Agricola.
+
+"That is very probable," said Adrienne, "and therefore, sir, it is
+necessary for you to remain here some hours with resignation. I am
+unfortunately obliged to go immediately to the Princess Saint-Dizier, my
+aunt, for an important interview, which can no longer be delayed, and
+is rendered more pressing still by what you have told me concerning the
+daughters of Marshal Simon. Remain here, then, sir; since if you go out,
+you will certainly be arrested."
+
+"Madame, pardon my refusal; but I must say once more that I ought not to
+accept this generous offer."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They have tried to draw me out, in order to avoid penetrating with the
+power of the law into your dwelling but if I go not out, they will come
+in; and never will I expose you to anything so disagreeable. Now that I
+am no longer uneasy about my mother, what signifies prison?"
+
+"And the grief that your mother will feel, her uneasiness, and her
+fears,--nothing? Think of your father; and that poor work-woman who
+loves you as a brother, and whom I value as a sister;--say, sir, do you
+forget them also? Believe me, it is better to spare those torments to
+your family. Remain here; and before the evening I am certain, either
+by giving surety, or some other means, of delivering you from these
+annoyances."
+
+"But, madame, supposing that I do accept your generous offer, they will
+come and find me here."
+
+"Not at all. There is in this pavilion, which was formerly the abode of
+a nobleman's left-handed wife,--you see, sir," said Adrienne, smiling,
+"that live in a very profane place--there is here a secret place
+of concealment, so wonderfully well-contrived, that it can defy all
+searches. Georgette will conduct you to it. You will be very well
+accommodated. You will even be able to write some verses for me, if the
+place inspire you."
+
+"Oh, madame! how great is your goodness! how have I merited it?"
+
+"Oh, sir, I will tell you. Admitting that your character and your
+position do not entitle you to any interest;--admitting that I may not
+owe a sacred debt to your father for the touching regards and cares he
+has bestowed upon the daughters of Marshal Simon, my relations--do you
+forget Frisky, sir?" asked Adrienne, laughing,--"Frisky, there, whom
+you have restored to my fondles? Seriously, if I laugh," continued this
+singular and extravagant creature, "it is because I know that you
+are entirely out of danger, and that I feel an increase of happiness.
+Therefore, sir, write for me quickly your address, and your mother's, in
+this pocket-book; follow Georgette; and spin me some pretty verses, if
+you do not bore yourself too much in that prison to which you fly."
+
+While Georgette conducted the blacksmith to the hiding-place, Hebe
+brought her mistress a small gray beaver hat with a gray feather;
+for Adrienne had to cross the park to reach the house occupied by the
+Princess Saint-Dizier.
+
+A quarter of an hour after this scene, Florine entered mysteriously the
+apartment of Mrs. Grivois, the first woman of the princess.
+
+"Well?" demanded Mrs. Grivois of the young woman.
+
+"Here are the notes which I have taken this morning," said Florine,
+putting a paper into the duenna's hand. "Happily, I have a good memory."
+
+"At what time exactly did she return home this morning?" asked the
+duenna, quickly.
+
+"Who, madame?"
+
+"Miss Adrienne."
+
+"She did not go out, madame. We put her in the bath at nine o'clock."
+
+"But before nine o'clock she came home, after having passed the night
+out of her house. Eight o'clock was the time at which she returned,
+however."
+
+Florine looked at Mrs. Grivois with profound astonishment, and said-"I
+do not understand you, madame."
+
+"What's that? Madame did not come home this morning at eight o'clock?
+Dare you lie?"
+
+"I was ill yesterday, and did not come down till nine this morning, in
+order to assist Georgette and Hebe help our young lady from the bath. I
+know nothing of what passed previously, I swear to you, madame."
+
+"That alters the case. You must ferret out what I allude to from your
+companions. They don't distrust you, and will tell you all."
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"What has your mistress done this morning since you saw her?"
+
+"Madame dictated a letter to Georgette for M. Norval, I requested
+permission to send it off, as a pretext for going out, and for writing
+down all I recollected."
+
+"Very well. And this letter?"
+
+"Jerome had to go out, and I gave it him to put in the post-office."
+
+"Idiot!" exclaimed Mrs. Grivois: "couldn't you bring it to me?"
+
+"But, as madame dictated it aloud to Georgette, as is her custom, I knew
+the contents of the letter; and I have written it in my notes."
+
+"That's not the same thing. It is likely there was need to delay sending
+off this letter; the princess will be very much displeased."
+
+"I thought I did right, madame."
+
+"I know that it is not good will that fails you. For these six months
+I have been satisfied with you. But this time you have committed a very
+great mistake."
+
+"Be indulgent, madame! what I do is sufficiently painful!" The girl
+stifled a sigh.
+
+Mrs. Grivois looked fixedly at her, and said in a sardonic tone:
+
+"Very well, my dear, do not continue it. If you have scruples, you are
+free. Go your way."
+
+"You well know that I am not free, madame," said Florine, reddening;
+and with tears in her eyes she added: "I am dependent upon M. Rodin, who
+placed me here."
+
+"Wherefore these regrets, then?"
+
+"In spite of one's self, one feels remorse. Madame is so good, and so
+confiding."
+
+"She is all perfection, certainly! But you are not here to sing her
+praises. What occurred afterwards?"
+
+"The working-man who yesterday found and brought back Frisky, came early
+this morning and requested permission to speak with my young lady."
+
+"And is this working-man still in her house?"
+
+"I don't know. He came in when I was going out with the letter."
+
+"You must contrive to learn what it was this workingman came about."
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Has your mistress seemed preoccupied, uneasy, or afraid of the
+interview which she is to have to-day with the princess? She conceals so
+little of what she thinks, that you ought to know."
+
+"She has been as gay as usual. She has even jested about the interview!"
+
+"Oh! jested, has she?" said the tire-woman, muttering between her teeth,
+without Florine being able to hear her: "'They laugh most who laugh
+last.' In spite of her audacious and diabolical character, she would
+tremble, and would pray for mercy, if she knew what awaits her this
+day." Then addressing Florine, she continued-"Return, and keep yourself,
+I advise you, from those fine scruples, which will be quite enough to do
+you a bad turn. Do not forget!"
+
+"I cannot forget that I belong not to myself, madame."
+
+"Anyway, let it be so. Farewell."
+
+Florine quitted the mansion and crossed the park to regain the summer
+house, while Mrs Grivois went immediately to the Princess Saint-Dizier.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III.
+
+     XXXVI. A Female Jesuit XXXVII. The Plot XXXVIII. Adrienne's
+     Enemies XXXIX. The Skirmish XL. The Revolt XLI. Treachery
+     XLII. The Snare XLIII. A False Friend XLIV. The Minister's
+     Cabinet XLV. The Visit XLVI. Presentiments XLVII. The Letter
+     XLVIII. The Confessional XLIX. My Lord and Spoil-sport L.
+     Appearances LI. The Convent LII. The Influence of a
+     Confessor LIII. The Examination
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. A FEMALE JESUIT.
+
+During the preceding scenes which occurred in the Pompadour rotunda,
+occupied by Miss de Cardoville, other events took place in the residence
+of the Princess Saint-Dizier. The elegance and sumptuousness of the
+former dwelling presented a strong contrast to the gloomy interior of
+the latter, the first floor of which was inhabited by the princess, for
+the plan of the ground floor rendered it only fit for giving parties;
+and, for a long time past, Madame de Saint-Dizier had renounced all
+worldly splendors. The gravity of her domestics, all aged and dressed in
+black; the profound silence which reigned in her abode, where everything
+was spoken, if it could be called speaking, in an undertone; and
+the almost monastic regularity and order of this immense mansion,
+communicated to everything around the princess a sad and chilling
+character. A man of the world, who joined great courage to rare
+independence of spirit, speaking of the princess (to whom Adrienne
+de Cardoville went, according to her expression, to fight a pitched
+battle), said of her as follows: "In order to avoid having Madame de
+Saint-Dizier for an enemy, I, who am neither bashful nor cowardly, have,
+for the first time in my life, been both a noodle and a coward." This
+man spoke sincerely. But Madame de Saint-Dizier had not all at once
+arrived at this high degree of importance.
+
+Some words are necessary for the purpose of exhibiting distinctly some
+phases in the life of this dangerous and implacable woman who, by
+her affiliation with the Order of Jesuits, had acquired an occult and
+formidable power. For there is something even more menacing than a
+Jesuit: it is a Jesuits; and, when one has seen certain circles, it
+becomes evident that there exist, unhappily, many of those affiliated,
+who, more or less, uniformly dress (for the lay members of the Order
+call themselves "Jesuits of the short robe").
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier, once very beautiful, had been, during the last
+years of the Empire, and the early years of the Restoration, one of the
+most fashionable women of Paris, of a stirring, active, adventurous,
+and commanding spirit, of cold heart, but lively imagination. She was
+greatly given to amorous adventures, not from tenderness of heart, but
+from a passion for intrigue, which she loved as men love play--for the
+sake of the emotions it excites. Unhappily, such had always been the
+blindness or the carelessness of her husband, the Prince of Saint-Dizier
+(eldest brother of the Count of Rennepont and Duke of Cardoville, father
+of Adrienne), that during his life he had never said one word that could
+make it be thought that he suspected the actions of his wife. Attaching
+herself to Napoleon, to dig a mine under the feet of the Colossus, that
+design at least afforded emotions sufficient to gratify the humor of
+the most insatiable. During some time, all went well. The princess was
+beautiful and spirited, dexterous and false, perfidious and seductive.
+She was surrounded by fanatical adorers, upon whom she played off a
+kind of ferocious coquetry, to induce them to run their heads into grave
+conspiracies. They hoped to resuscitate the Fonder party, and carried
+on a very active secret correspondence with some influential personages
+abroad, well known for their hatred against the emperor and France.
+Hence arose her first epistolary relations with the Marquis d'Aigrigny,
+then colonel in the Russian service and aide-de-camp to General Moreau.
+But one day all these petty intrigues were discovered. Many knights
+of Madame de Saint-Dizier were sent to Vincennes; but the emperor, who
+might have punished her terribly, contented himself with exiling the
+princess to one of her estates near Dunkirk.
+
+Upon the Restoration, the persecutions which Madame de Saint-Dizier had
+suffered for the Good Cause were entered to her credit, and she acquired
+even then very considerable influence, in spite of the lightness of her
+behavior. The Marquis d'Aigrigny, having entered the military service of
+France, remained there. He was handsome, and of fashionable manners and
+address. He had corresponded and conspired with the princess, without
+knowing her; and these circumstances necessarily led to a close
+connection between them.
+
+Excessive self-love, a taste for exciting pleasures, aspirations
+of hatred, pride, and lordliness, a species of evil sympathy, the
+perfidious attraction of which brings together perverse natures without
+mingling them, had made of the princess and the Marquis accomplices
+rather than lovers. This connection, based upon selfish and bitter
+feelings, and upon the support which two characters of this dangerous
+temper could lend to each other against a world in which their spirit of
+intrigue, of gallantry, and of contempt had made them many enemies, this
+connection endured till the moment when, after his duel with General
+Simon, the Marquis entered a religious house, without any one
+understanding the cause of his unexpected and sudden resolution.
+
+The princess, having not yet heard the hour of her conversion strike,
+continued to whirl round the vortex of the world with a greedy, jealous,
+and hateful ardor, for she saw that the last years of her beauty were
+dying out.
+
+An estimate of the character of this woman may be formed from the
+following fact:
+
+Still very agreeable, she wished to close her worldly and volatile
+career with some brilliant and final triumph, as a great actress knows
+the proper time to withdraw from the stage so as to leave regrets
+behind. Desirous of offering up this final incense to her own vanity,
+the princess skillfully selected her victims. She spied out in the world
+a young couple who idolized each other; and, by dint of cunning and
+address, she succeeded in taking away the lover from his mistress, a
+charming woman of eighteen, by whom he was adored. This triumph being
+achieved, Madame Saint-Dizier retired from the fashionable world in the
+full blaze of her exploit. After many long conversations with the Abbe
+Marquis d'Aigrigny, who had become a renowned preacher, she departed
+suddenly from Paris, and spent two years upon her estate near Dunkirk,
+to which she took only one of her female attendants, viz., Mrs. Grivois.
+
+When the princess afterwards returned to Paris, it was impossible
+to recognize the frivolous, intriguing, and dissipated woman she had
+formerly been. The metamorphosis was as complete as it was extraordinary
+and even startling. Saint-Dizier House, heretofore open to the banquets
+and festivals of every kind of pleasure, became gloomily silent and
+austere. Instead of the world of elegance and fashion, the princess now
+received in her mansion only women of ostentatious piety, and men of
+consequence, who were remarkably exemplary by the extravagant rigor of
+their religious and monarchial principles. Above all, she drew around
+her several noted members of the higher orders of the clergy. She was
+appointed patroness of a body of religious females. She had her own
+confessor, chaplin, almoner, and even spiritual director; but this
+last performed his functions in partibus. The Marquis-Abbe d'Aigrigny
+continued in reality to be her spiritual guide; and it is almost
+unnecessary to say that for a long time past their mutual relations as
+to flirting had entirely ceased.
+
+This sudden and complete conversion of a gay and distinguished woman,
+especially as it was loudly trumpeted forth, struck the greater number
+of persons with wonder and respect. Others, more discerning, only
+smiled.
+
+A single anecdote, from amongst a thousand, will suffice to show the
+alarming influence and power which the princess had acquired since her
+affiliation with the Jesuits. This anecdote will also exhibit the deep,
+vindictive, and pitiless character of this woman, whom Adrienne de
+Cardoville had so imprudently made herself ready to brave.
+
+Amongst the persons who smiled more or less at the conversion of Madame
+de Saint-Dizier were the young and charming couple whom she had so
+cruelly disunited before she quitted forever the scenes of revelry
+in which she had lived. The young couple became more impassioned and
+devoted to each other than ever; they were reconciled and married, after
+the passing storm which had hurled them asunder; and they indulged in
+no other vengeance against the author of their temporary infelicity than
+that of mildly jesting at the pious conversion of the woman who had done
+them so much injury.
+
+Some time after, a terrible fatality overtook the loving pair. The
+husband, until then blindly unsuspicious, was suddenly inflamed by
+anonymous communications. A dreadful rupture ensued, and the young wife
+perished.
+
+As for the husband, certain vague rumors, far from distinct, yet
+pregnant with secret meanings, perfidiously contrived, and a thousand
+times more detestable than formal accusations, which can, at least, be
+met and destroyed, were strewn about him with so much perseverance, with
+a skill so diabolical, and by means and ways so very various, that his
+best friends, by little and little, withdrew themselves from him,
+thus yielding to the slow, irresistible influence of that incessant
+whispering and buzzing, confused as indistinct, amounting to some such
+results as this-"Well! you know!" says one.
+
+"No!" replies another.
+
+"People say very vile things about him."
+
+"Do they? really! What then?"
+
+"I don't know! Bad reports! Rumors grievously affecting his honor!"
+
+"The deuce! That's very serious. It accounts for the coldness with which
+he is now everywhere received!"
+
+"I shall avoid him in future!"
+
+"So will I," etc.
+
+Such is the world, that very often nothing more than groundless surmises
+are necessary to brand a man whose very, happiness may have incurred
+envy. So it was with the gentleman of whom we speak. The unfortunate
+man, seeing the void around him extending itself,--feeling (so to speak)
+the earth crumbling from beneath his feet, knew not where to find or
+grasp the impalpable enemy whose blows he felt; for not once had the
+idea occurred to him of suspecting the princess, whom he had not seen
+since his adventure with her. Anxiously desiring to learn why he was so
+much shunned and despised, he at length sought an explanation from
+an old friend; but he received only a disdainfully evasive answer;
+at which, being exasperated, he demanded satisfaction. His adversary
+replied--"If you can find two persons of our acquaintance, I will fight
+you!" The unhappy man could not find one!
+
+Finally, forsaken by all, without having ever obtained an explanation of
+the reason for forsaking him--suffering keenly for the fate of the
+wife whom he had lost, he became mad with grief, rage, and despair, and
+killed himself.
+
+On the day of his death, Madame de Saint-Dizier remarked that it was
+fit and necessary that one who had lived so shamefully should come to
+an equally shameful end, and that he who had so long jested at all laws,
+human and divine, could not seemly otherwise terminate his wretched life
+than by perpetrating a last crime--suicide! And the friends of Madame de
+Saint-Dizier hawked about and everywhere repeated these terrible words
+with a contrite air, as if beatified and convinced! But this was not
+all. Along with chastisements there were rewards.
+
+Observant people remarked that the favorites of the religious clan of
+Madame de Saint-Dizier rose to high distinction with singular rapidity.
+The virtuous young men, such as were religiously attentive to tiresome
+sermons, were married to rich orphans of the Sacred Heart Convents, who
+were held in reserve for the purpose; poor young girls, who, learning
+too late what it is to have a pious husband selected and imposed upon
+them by a set of devotees, often expiated by very bitter tears the
+deceitful favor of thus being admitted into a world of hypocrisy and
+falsehood, in which they found themselves strangers without support,
+crushed by it if they dared to complain of the marriages to which they
+had been condemned.
+
+In the parlor of Madame de Saint-Dizier were appointed prefects,
+colonels, treasurers, deputies, academicians, bishops and peers of
+the realm, from whom nothing more was required in return for the
+all-powerful support bestowed upon them, but to wear a pious gloss,
+sometimes publicly take the communion, swear furious war against
+everything impious or revolutionary,--and above all, correspond
+confidentially upon "different subjects of his choosing" with the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny,--an amusement, moreover, which was very agreeable; for the
+abbe was the most amiable man in the world, the most witty, and above
+all, the most obliging. The following is an historical fact, which
+requires the bitter and vengeful irony of Moliere or Pascal to do it
+justice.
+
+During the last year of the Restoration, there was one of the mighty
+dignitaries of the court a firm and independent man, who did not
+make profession (as the holy fathers call it), that is, who did
+not communicate at the altar. The splendor amid which he moved was
+calculated to give the weight of a very injurious example to his
+indifference. The Abbe-Marquis d'Aigrigny was therefore despatched to
+him; and he knowing the honorable and elevated character of the non
+communicant, thought that if he could only bring him to profess by
+any means (whatever the means might be) the effect would be what was
+desired. Like a man of intellect, the abbe prized the dogma but cheaply
+himself. He only spoke of the suitableness of the step, and of the
+highly salutary example which the resolution to adopt it would afford to
+the public.
+
+"M. Abbe," replied the person sought to be influenced, "I have a greater
+respect for religion than you have. I should consider it an infamous
+mockery to go to the communion table without feeling the proper
+conviction."
+
+"Nonsense! you inflexible man! you frowning Alcestes," said the Marquis
+Abbe, smiling slyly. "Your profits and your scruples will go together,
+believe me, by listening to me. In short, we shall manage to make it a
+BLANK COMMUNION for you; for after all, what is it that we ask?--only
+the APPEARANCE!"
+
+Now, a BLANK COMMUNION means breaking an unconsecrated wafer!
+
+The Abbe-Marquis retired with his offers, which were rejected with
+indignation;--but then, the refractory man was dismissed from his place
+at court. This was but a single isolated fact. Woe to all who found
+themselves opposed to the interest and principles of Madame de Saint
+Dizier or her friends! Sooner or later, directly or indirectly, they
+felt themselves cruelly stabbed, generally immediately--some in their
+dearest connections, others in their credit, some in their honor;
+others in their official functions; and all by secret action, noiseless,
+continuous, and latent, in time becoming a terrible and mysterious
+dissolvent, which invisibly undermined reputations, fortunes, positions
+the most solidly established, until the moment when all sunk forever
+into the abyss, amid the surprise and terror of the beholders.
+
+It will now be conceived how under the Restoration the Princess de Saint
+Dizier had become singularly influential and formidable. At the time of
+the Revolution of July (1830) she had "rallied," and, strangely enough,
+by preserving some relation of family and of society with persons
+faithful to the worship of decayed monarchy, people still attributed to
+the princess much influence and power. Let us mention, at last, that
+the Prince of Saint-Dizier, having died many years since, his very large
+personal fortune had descended to his younger brother, the father of
+Adrienne de Cardoville; and he, having died eighteen months ago, that
+young lady found herself to be the last and only representative of that
+branch of the family of the Renneponts.
+
+The Princess of Saint-Dizier awaited her niece in a very large room,
+rendered dismal by its gloomy green damask. The chairs, etc., covered
+with similar stuff, were of carved ebony. Paintings of scriptural
+and other religious subjects, and an ivory crucifix thrown up from
+a background of black velvet, contributed to give the apartment a
+lugubrious and austere aspect.
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier, seated before a large desk, has just finished
+putting the seals on numerous letters; for she had a very extensive and
+very diversified correspondence. Though then aged about forty-five she
+was still fair. Advancing years had somewhat thickened her shape, which
+formerly of distinguished elegance, was still sufficiently handsome to
+be seen to advantage under the straight folds of her black dress. Her
+headdress, very simple, decorated with gray ribbons, allowed her fair
+sleek hair to be seen arranged in broad bands. At first look, people
+were struck with her dignified though unassuming appearance; and would
+have vainly tried to discover in her physiognomy, now marked with
+repentant calmness, any trace of the agitations of her past life. So
+naturally grave and reserved was she, that people could not believe her
+the heroine of so many intrigues and adventures and gallantry.
+Moreover, if by chance she ever heard any lightness of conversation, her
+countenance, since she had come to believe herself a kind of "mother
+in the Church," immediately expressed candid but grieved astonishment,
+which soon changed into an air of offended chastity and disdainful pity.
+
+For the rest, her smile, when requisite, was still full of grace, and
+even of the seducing and resistless sweetness of seeming good-nature.
+Her large blue eyes, on fit occasions, became affectionate and
+caressing. But if any one dared to wound or ruffle her pride, gainsay
+her orders or harm her interests, her countenance, usually placid and
+serene, betrayed a cold but implacable malignity. Mrs. Grivois entered
+the cabinet, holding in her hand Florine's report of the manner in which
+Adrienne de Cardoville had spent the morning.
+
+Mrs. Grivois had been about twenty years in the service of Madame de
+Saint-Dizier. She knew everything that a lady's-maid could or ought to
+have known of her mistress in the days of her sowing of wild (being a
+lady) flowers. Was it from choice that the princess had still retained
+about her person this so-well-informed witness of the numerous follies
+of her youth? The world was kept in ignorance of the motive; but one
+thing was evident, viz., that Mrs. Grivois enjoyed great privileges
+under the princess, and was treated by her rather as a companion than as
+a tiring woman.
+
+"Here are Florine's notes, madame," said Mrs. Grivois, giving the paper
+to the princess.
+
+"I will examine them presently," said the princess; "but tell me, is my
+niece coming? Pending the conference at which she is to be present, you
+will conduct into her house a person who will soon be here, to inquire
+for you by my desire."
+
+"Well, madame?"
+
+"This man will make an exact inventory of everything contained in
+Adrienne's residence. You will take care that nothing is omitted; for
+that is of very great importance."
+
+"Yes, madame. But should Georgette or Hebe make any opposition?"
+
+"There is no fear; the man charged with taking the inventory is of such
+a stamp, that when they know him, they will not dare to oppose either
+his making the inventory, or his other steps. It will be necessary
+not to fail, as you go along with him, to be careful to obtain certain
+peculiarities destined to confirm the reports which you have spread for
+some time past."
+
+"Do not have the slightest doubt, madame. The reports have all the
+consistency of truth."
+
+"Very soon, then, this Adrienne, so insolent and so haughty, will be
+crushed and compelled to pray for pardon; and from me!"
+
+An old footman opened both of the folding doors, and announced the
+Marquis-Abbe d'Aigrigny.
+
+"If Miss de Cardoville present herself," said the princess to Mrs.
+Grivois, "you will request her to wait an instant."
+
+"Yes, madame," said the duenna, going out with the servant.
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier and D'Aigrigny remained alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. THE PLOT.
+
+The Abbe-Marquis d'Aigrigny, as the reader has easily divined, was
+the person already seen in the Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins; whence he had
+departed from Rome, in which city he had remained about three months.
+The marquis was dressed in deep mourning, but with his usual elegance.
+His was not a priestly robe; his black coat, and his waistcoat, tightly
+gathered in at the waist, set off to great advantage the elegance of
+his figure: his black cassimere pantaloons disguised his feet, exactly
+fitted with lace boots, brilliantly polished. And all traces of his
+tonsure disappeared in the midst of the slight baldness which whitened
+slightly the back part of his head. There was nothing in his entire
+costume, or aspect, that revealed the priest, except, perhaps,
+the entire absence of beard, the more remarkable upon so manly a
+countenance. His chin, newly shaved, rested on a large and elevated
+black cravat, tied with a military ostentation which reminded the
+beholder, that this abbe-marquis this celebrated preacher--now one of
+the most active and influential chiefs of his order, had commanded a
+regiment of hussars upon the Restoration, and had fought in aid of the
+Russians against France.
+
+Returned to Paris only this morning, the marquis had not seen the
+princess since his mother, the Dowager Marchioness d'Aigrigny, had died
+near Dunkirk, upon an estate belonging to Madame de Saint-Dizier, while
+vainly calling for her son to alleviate her last moments; but the order
+to which M. d'Aigrigny had thought fit to sacrifice the most sacred
+feeling and duties of nature, having been suddenly transmitted to him
+from Rome, he had immediately set out for that city; though not without
+hesitation, which was remarked and denounced by Rodin; for the love of
+M. d'Aigrigny for his mother had been the only pure feeling that had
+invariably distinguished his life.
+
+When the servant had discreetly withdrawn with Mrs. Grivois, the marquis
+quickly approached the princess, held out his hand to her, and said with
+a voice of emotion:
+
+"Herminia, have you not concealed something in your letters. In her last
+moments did not my mother curse me?"
+
+"No, no, Frederick, compose yourself. She had anxiously desired your
+presence. Her ideas soon became confused. But in her delirium it was
+still for you that she called."
+
+"Yes," said the marquis, bitterly; "her maternal instinct doubtless
+assured her that my presence could have saved her life."
+
+"I entreat you to banish these sad recollections," said the princess,
+"this misfortune is irreparable."
+
+"Tell me for the last time, truly, did not my absence cruelly affect
+my mother? Had she no suspicion that a more imperious duty called me
+elsewhere?"
+
+"No, no, I assure you. Even when her reason was shaken, she believed
+that you had not yet had time to come to her. All the sad details which
+I wrote to you upon this painful subject are strictly true. Again, I beg
+of you to compose yourself."
+
+"Yes, my conscience ought to be easy; for I have fulfilled my duty in
+sacrificing my mother. Yet I have never been able to arrive at that
+complete detachment from natural affection, which is commanded to us
+by those awful words: 'He who hates not his father and his mother, even
+with the soul, cannot be my disciple.'"(9)
+
+"Doubtless, Frederick," said the princess, "these renunciations are
+painful. But, in return, what influence, what power!"
+
+"It is true," said the marquis, after a moment's silence. "What ought
+not to be sacrificed in order to reign in secret over the all-powerful
+of the earth, who lord it in full day? This journey to Rome, from which
+I have just returned, has given me a new idea of our formidable power.
+For, Herminia, it is Rome which is the culminating point, overlooking
+the fairest and broadest quarters of the globe, made so by custom, by
+tradition, or by faith. Thence can our workings be embraced in their
+full extent. It is an uncommon view to see from its height the myriad
+tools, whose personality is continually absorbed into the immovable
+personality of our Order. What a might we possess! Verily, I am always
+swayed with admiration, aye, almost frightened, that man once thinks,
+wishes, believes, and acts as he alone lists, until, soon ours, he
+becomes but a human shell; its kernel of intelligence, mind, reason,
+conscience, and free will, shrivelled within him, dry and withered by
+the habit of mutely, fearingly bowing under mysterious tasks, which
+shatter and slay everything spontaneous in the human soul! Then do we
+infuse in such spiritless clay, speechless, cold, and motionless as
+corpses, the breath of our Order, and, lo! the dry bones stand up and
+walk, acting and executing, though only within the limits which are
+circled round them evermore. Thus do they become mere limbs of the
+gigantic trunk, whose impulses they mechanically carry out, while
+ignorant of the design, like the stonecutter who shapes out a stone,
+unaware if it be for cathedral or bagnio."
+
+In so speaking, the marquis's features wore an incredible air of proud
+and domineering haughtiness.
+
+"Oh, yes! this power is great, most great," observed the princess; "and
+the more formidable because it moves in a mysterious way over minds and
+consciences."
+
+"Aye, Herminia," said the marquis: "I have had under my command a
+magnificent regiment. Very often have I experienced the energetic and
+exquisite enjoyment of command! At my word my squadrons put themselves
+in action; bugles blared, my officers, glittering in golden embroidery,
+galloped everywhere to repeat my orders: all my brave soldiers, burning
+with courage, and cicatrized by battles, obeyed my signal; and I felt
+proud and strong, holding as I did (so to speak) in my hands, the force
+and valor of each and all combined into one being of resistless strength
+and invincible intrepidity,--of all of which I was as much the
+master, as I mastered the rage and fire of my war-horse! Aye! that was
+greatness. But now, in spite of the misfortunes which have befallen
+our Order, I feel myself a thousand times more ready for action, more
+authoritative, more strong and more daring, at the head of our mute
+and black-robed militia, who only think and wish, or move and obey,
+mechanically, according to my will. On a sign they scatter over the
+surface of the globe, gliding stealthily into households under the guise
+of confessing the wife or teaching the children, into family affairs
+by hearing the dying avowals,--up to the throne through the quaking
+conscience of a credulous crowned coward;--aye, even to the chair of
+the Pope himself, living manifesto of the Godhead though he is, by the
+services rendered him or imposed by him. Is not this secret rule, made
+to kindle or glut the wildest ambition, as it reaches from the cradle to
+the grave, from the laborer's hovel to the royal palace, from palace
+to the papal chair? What career in all the world presents such splendid
+openings? what unutterable scorn ought I not feel for the bright
+butterfly life of early days, when we made so many envy us? Don't you
+remember, Herminia?" he added, with a bitter smile.
+
+"You are right, perfectly right, Frederick!" replied the princess
+quickly. "How little soever we may reflect, with what contempt do we not
+think upon the past! I, like you, often compare it with the present;
+and then what satisfaction I feel at having followed your counsels! For,
+indeed, without you, I should have played the miserable and ridiculous
+part which a woman always plays in her decline from having been
+beautiful and surrounded by admirers. What could I have done at this
+hour? I should have vainly striven to retain around me a selfish and
+ungrateful world of gross and shameful men, who court women only
+that they may turn them to the service of their passions, or to the
+gratification of their vanity. It is true that there would have remained
+to me the resource of what is called keeping an agreeable house for all
+others,--yes, in order to entertain them, be visited by a crowd of
+the indifferent, to afford opportunities of meeting to amorous young
+couples, who, following each other from parlor to parlor, come not
+to your house but for the purpose of being together; a very pretty
+pleasure, truly, that of harboring those blooming, laughing, amorous
+youths, who look upon the luxury and brilliancy with which one surrounds
+them, as if they were their due upon bonds to minister to their
+pleasure, and to their impudent amours!"
+
+Her words were so stinging, and such hateful envy sat upon her face,
+that she betrayed the intense bitterness of her regrets in spite of
+herself.
+
+"NO, no; thanks to you, Frederick," she continued, "After a last and
+brilliant triumph, I broke forever with the world, which would soon have
+abandoned me, though I was so long its idol and its queen. And I have
+only changed my queendom. Instead of the dissipated men whom I ruled
+with a frivolity superior to their own, I now find myself surrounded by
+men of high consideration, of redoubtable character, and all-powerful,
+many of whom have governed the state; to them I have devoted myself, as
+they have devoted themselves to me! It is now only that I really enjoy
+that happiness, of which I ever dreamt. I have taken an active part and
+have exercised a powerful influence over the greatest interests of the
+world; I have been initiated into the most important secrets; I have
+been able to strike, surely, whosoever scoffed at or hated me; and I
+have been able to elevate beyond their hopes those who have served or
+respected and obeyed me."
+
+"There are some madmen, and some so blind, that they imagine that we
+are struck down, because we ourselves have had to struggle against some
+misfortunes," said M. d'Aigrigny, disdainfully, "as if we were not,
+above all others, securely founded, organized for every struggle, and
+drew not from our very struggles a new and more vigorous activity.
+Doubtless the times are bad. But they will become better; and, as you
+know, it is nearly certain that in a few days (the 13th of February), we
+shall have at our disposal a means of action sufficiently powerful for
+re establishing our influence which has been temporarily shaken."
+
+"Yes, doubtless this affair of the medals is most important," said the
+princess.
+
+"I should not have made so much haste to return hither," resumed the
+abbe, "were it not to act in what will be, perhaps, for us, a very great
+event."
+
+"But you are aware of the fatality which has once again overthrown
+projects the most laboriously conceived and matured?"
+
+"Yes; immediately on arriving I saw Rodin."
+
+"And he told you--?"
+
+"The inconceivable arrival of the Indian, and of General Simon's
+daughters at Cardoville Castle, after a double shipwreck, which threw
+them upon the coast of Picardy; though it was deemed certain that the
+young girls were at Leipsic, and the Indian in Java. Precautions were
+so well taken, indeed," added the marquis in vexation, "that one would
+think an invisible power protects this family."
+
+"Happily, Rodin is a man of resources and activity," resumed the
+princess. "He came here last night, and we had a long conversation."
+
+"And the result of your consultation is excellent," added the marquis:
+"the old soldier is to be kept out of the way for two days; and his
+wife's confessor has been posted; the rest will proceed of itself. To
+morrow, the girls need no longer be feared; and the Indian remains at
+Cardoville, wounded dangerously. We have plenty of time for action."
+
+"But that is not all," continued the princess: "there are still, without
+reckoning my niece, two persons, who, for our interests, ought not to be
+found in Paris on the 13th of February."
+
+"Yes, M. Hardy: but his most dear and intimate friend has betrayed him;
+for, by means of that friend, we have drawn M. Hardy into the South,
+whence it is impossible for him to return before a month. As for that
+miserable vagabond workman, surnamed 'Sleepinbuff!'"
+
+"Fie!" exclaimed the princess, with an expression of outraged modesty.
+
+"That man," resumed the marquis, "is no longer an object of inquietude.
+Lastly, Gabriel, upon whom our vast and certain hope reposes, will not
+be left by himself for a single minute until the great day. Everything
+seems, you see, to promise success; indeed, more so than ever; and it is
+necessary to obtain this success at any price. It is for us a question
+of life or death; for, in returning, I stopped at Forli, and there
+saw the Duke d'Orbano. His influence over the mind of the king is all
+powerful--indeed, absolute; and he has completely prepossessed the royal
+mind. It is with the duke alone, then, that it is possible to treat."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"D'Orbano has gained strength; and he can, I know it, assure to us a
+legal existence, highly protected, in the dominions of his master, with
+full charge of popular education. Thanks to such advantages, after two
+or three years in that country we shall become so deeply rooted, that
+this very Duke d'Orbano, in his turn, will have to solicit support and
+protection from us. But at present he has everything in his power; and
+he puts an absolute condition upon his services."
+
+"What is the condition?"
+
+"Five millions down; and an annual pension of a hundred thousand
+francs."
+
+"It is very much."
+
+"Nay, but little if it be considered that our foot once planted in that
+country, we shall promptly repossess ourselves of that sum, which, after
+all, is scarcely an eighth part of what the affair of the medals, if
+happily brought to an issue, ought to assure to the Order."
+
+"Yes, nearly forty millions," said the princess, thoughtfully.
+
+"And again: these five millions that Orbano demands will be but an
+advance. They will be returned to us in voluntary gifts, by reason even
+of the increase of influence that we shall acquire from the education
+of children; through whom we have their families. And yet, the fools
+hesitate! those who govern see not, that in doing our own business, we
+do theirs also;--that in abandoning education to us (which is what we
+wish for above all things) we mold the people into that mute and quiet
+obedience, that servile and brutal submission, which assures the repose
+of states by the immobility of the mind. They don't reflect that most
+of the upper and middle classes fear and hate us; don't understand that
+(when we have persuaded the mass that their wretchedness is an eternal
+law, that sufferers must give up hope of relief, that it is a crime to
+sigh for welfare in this world, since the crown of glory on high is the
+only reward for misery here), then the stupefied people will resignedly
+wallow in the mire, all their impatient aspirations for better days
+smothered, and the volcano-blasts blown aside, which made the future of
+rulers so horrid and so dark? They see not, in truth, that this blind
+and passive faith which we demand from the mass, furnishes their rulers
+with a bridle with which both to conduct and curb them; whilst we ask
+from the happy of the world only some appearances which ought, if they
+had only the knowledge of their own corruption, to give an increased
+stimulant to their pleasures.
+
+"It signifies not," resumed the princess; "since, as you say, a great
+day is at hand, bringing nearly forty millions, of which the Order can
+become possessed by the happy success of the affair of the medals. We
+certainly can attempt very great things. Like a lever in your hands,
+such a means of action would be of incalculable power, in times during
+which all men buy and sell one another."
+
+"And then," resumed M. d'Aigrigny, with a thoughtful air, "here the
+reaction continues: the example of France is everything. In Austria and
+Holland we can rarely maintain ourselves; while the resources of the
+Order diminish from day to day. We have arrived at a crisis; but it can
+be made to prolong itself. Thus, thanks to the immense resource of the
+affair of the medals, we can not only brave all eventualities, but we
+can again powerfully establish ourselves, thanks to the offer of the
+Duke d'Orbano, which we accept; and then, from that inassailable centre,
+our radiations will be incalculable. Ah! the 13th of February!" added M.
+d'Aigrigny, after a moment of silence, and shaking his head: "the 13th
+of February, a date perhaps fortunate and famous for our power as that
+of the council which gave to us (so to say) a new life!"
+
+"And nothing must be spared." resumed the princess, "in order to succeed
+at any price. Of the six persons whom we have to fear, five are or will
+be out of any condition to hurt us. There remains then only my niece;
+and you know that I have waited but for your arrival in order to take
+my last resolution. All my preparations are completed; and this very
+morning we will begin to act."
+
+"Have your suspicions increased since your last letter?"
+
+"Yes, I am certain that she is more instructed than she wishes to
+appear; and if so, we shall not have a more dangerous enemy."
+
+"Such has always been my opinion. Thus it is six month: since I advised
+you to take in all cases the measures which you have adopted, in order
+to provoke, on her part, that demand of emancipation, the consequences
+of which now render quite easy that which would have been impossible
+without it."
+
+"At last," said the princess, with an expression of joy, hateful and
+bitter, "this indomitable spirit will be broken. I am at length about to
+be avenged of the many insolent sarcasms which I have been compelled to
+swallow, lest I should awaken her suspicions. I! I to have borne so much
+till now! for this Adrienne has made it her business (imprudent as she
+is!) to irritate me against herself!"
+
+"Whosoever offends you, offends me; you know it," said D'Aigrigny, "my
+hatreds are yours."
+
+"And you yourself!" said the princess, "how many times have you been the
+butt of her poignant irony!"
+
+"My instincts seldom deceive me. I am certain that this young girl
+may become a dangerous enemy for us," said the marquis, with a voice
+painfully broken into short monosyllables.
+
+"And, therefore, it is necessary that she may be rendered incapable
+of exciting further fear," responded Madame de Saint-Dizier, fixedly
+regarding the marquis.
+
+"Have you seen Dr. Baleinier, and the sub-guardian, M. Tripeaud?" asked
+he.
+
+"They will be here this morning. I have informed them of everything."
+
+"Did you find them well disposed to act against her?"
+
+"Perfectly so--and the best is, Adrienne does not at all suspect the
+doctor, who has known how, up to a certain point, to preserve her
+confidence. Moreover, a circumstance which appears to me inexplicable
+has come to our aid."
+
+"What do you allude to?"
+
+"This morning, Mrs. Grivois went, according to my orders, to remind
+Adrienne that I expected her at noon, upon important business. As she
+approached the pavilion, Mrs. Grivois saw, or thought she saw, Adrienne
+come in by the little garden-gate."
+
+"What do you tell me? Is it possible? Is there any positive proof of
+it?" cried the marquis.
+
+"Till now, there is no other proof than the spontaneous declaration of
+Mrs. Grivois: but whilst I think of it," said the Princess, taking up a
+paper that lay before her, "here is the report, which, every day, one of
+Adrienne's women makes to me."
+
+"The one that Rodin succeeded in introducing into your niece's service?"
+
+"The same; as this creature is entirely in Rodin's hands, she has
+hitherto answered our purpose very well. In this report, we shall
+perhaps find the confirmation of what Mrs. Grivois affirms she saw."
+
+Hardly had the Princess glanced at the note, than she exclaimed almost
+in terror: "What do I see? Why, Adrienne is a very demon!"
+
+"What now?"
+
+"The bailiff at Cardoville, having written to my niece to ask her
+recommendation, informed her at the same time of the stay of the Indian
+prince at the castle. She knows that he is her relation, and has just
+written to her old drawing-master, Norval, to set out post with Eastern
+dresses, and bring Prince Djalma hither--the man that must be kept away
+from Paris at any cost."
+
+The marquis grew pale, and said to Mme. de Saint-Dizier: "If this be not
+merely one of her whims, the eagerness she displays in sending for this
+relation hither, proves that she knows more than you even suspected. She
+is 'posted' on the affair of the medals. Have a care--she may ruin all."
+
+"In that case," said the princess, resolutely, "there is no room to
+hesitate. We must carry things further than we thought, and make an end
+this very morning."
+
+"Yes, though it is almost impossible."
+
+"Nay, all is possible. The doctor and M. Tripeaud are ours," said the
+princess, hastily.
+
+"Though I am as sure as you are of the doctor, or of M. Tripeaud,
+under present circumstances, we must not touch on the question of
+acting--which will be sure to frighten them at first--until after
+our interview with your niece. It will be easy, notwithstanding her
+cleverness, to find out her armor's defect. If our suspicions should be
+realized--if she is really informed of what it would be so dangerous for
+her to know--then we must have no scruples, and above all no delay. This
+very day must see all set at rest. The time for wavering is past."
+
+"Have you been able to send for the person agreed on?" asked the
+princess, after a moment's silence.
+
+"He was to be here at noon. He cannot be long."
+
+"I thought this room would do very well for our purpose. It is separated
+from the smaller parlor by a curtain only behind which your man may be
+stationed."
+
+"Capital!"
+
+"Is he a man to be depended on?"
+
+"Quite so--we have often employed him in similar matters. He is as
+skillful as discreet."
+
+At this moment a low knock was heard at the door.
+
+"Come in," said the princess.
+
+"Dr. Baleinier wishes to know if her Highness the Princess can receive
+him," asked the valet-de-chambre.
+
+"Certainly. Beg him to walk in."
+
+"There is also a gentleman that M. l'Abbe appointed to be here at noon,
+by whose orders I have left him waiting in the oratory."
+
+"'Tis the person in question," said the marquis to the princess. "We
+must have him in first. 'Twould be useless for Dr. Baleinier to see him
+at present."
+
+"Show this person in first," said the princess; "next when I ring
+the bell, you will beg Dr. Baleinier to walk this way: and, if Baron
+Tripeaud should call, you will bring him here also. After that, I am at
+home to no one, except Mdlle. Adrienne." The servant went out.
+
+(9) With regard to this text, a commentary upon it will be found in the
+Constitutions of the Jesuits, as follows: "In order that the habit of
+language may come to the help of the sentiments, it is wise not to say,
+'I have parents, or I have brothers;' but to say, 'I had parents; I had
+brothers.'"--General Examination, p. 29; Constitutions.--Paulin; 1843.
+Paris.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. ADRIENNE'S ENEMIES.
+
+The Princess de Saint-Dizier's valet soon returned, showing in a little,
+pale man, dressed in black, and wearing spectacles. He carried under his
+left arm a long black morocco writing-case.
+
+The princess said to this man: "M. l'Abbe, I suppose, has already
+informed you of what is to be done?"
+
+"Yes, your highness," said the man in a faint, shrill, piping voice,
+making at the same time a low bow.
+
+"Shall you be conveniently placed in this room?" asked the princess,
+conducting him to the adjoining apartment, which was only separated from
+the other by a curtain hung before a doorway.
+
+"I shall do nicely here, your highness," answered the man in spectacles,
+with a second and still lower bow.
+
+"In that case, sir, please to step in here; I will let you know when it
+is time."
+
+"I shall wait your highness's order."
+
+"And pray remember my instructions," added the marquis, as he unfastened
+the loops of the curtain.
+
+"You may be perfectly tranquil, M. l'Abbe." The heavy drapery, as it
+fell, completely concealed the man in spectacles.
+
+The princess touched the bell; some moments after, the door opened, and
+the servant announced a very important personage in this work.
+
+Dr. Baleinier was about fifty years of age, middling size, rather plump,
+with a full shining, ruddy countenance. His gray hair, very smooth and
+rather long, parted by a straight line in the middle, fell flat over
+his temples. He had retained the fashion of wearing short, black silk
+breeches, perhaps because he had a well-formed leg; his garters were
+fastened with small, golden buckles, as were his shoes of polished
+morocco leather; his coat, waistcoat, and cravat were black, which gave
+him rather a clerical appearance; his sleek, white hand was half hidden
+beneath a cambric ruffle, very closely plaited; on the whole, the
+gravity of his costume did not seem to exclude a shade of foppery.
+
+His face was acute and smiling; his small gray eye announced rare
+penetration and sagacity. A man of the world and a man of pleasure,
+a delicate epicure, witty in conversation, polite to obsequiousness,
+supple, adroit, insinuating, Baleinier was one of the oldest favorites
+of the congregational set of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. Thanks to
+this powerful support, its cause unknown, the doctor, who had been
+long neglected, in spite of real skill and incontestable merit, found
+himself, under the Restoration, suddenly provided with two medical
+sinecures most valuable, and soon after with numerous patients. We must
+add, that, once under the patronage of the princess, the doctor began
+scrupulously to observe his religious duties; he communicated once a
+week, with great publicity, at the high mass in Saint Thomas Aquinas
+Church.
+
+At the year's end, a certain class of patients, led by the example and
+enthusiasm of Madame de Saint-Dizier's followers, would have no other
+physician than Doctor Baleinier, and his practice was now increased to
+an extraordinary degree. It may be conceived how important it was for
+the order, to have amongst its "plain clothes members" one of the most
+popular practitioners of Paris.
+
+A doctor has in some sort a priesthood of his own. Admitted at all hours
+to the most secret intimacy of families, he knows, guesses, and is able
+to effect much. Like the priest, in short, he has the ear of the sick
+and the dying. Now, when he who cares for the health of the body, and he
+who takes charge of the health of the soul, understands each other, and
+render mutual aid for the advancement of a common interest, there is
+nothing (with certain exceptions), which they may not extract from the
+weakness and fears of a sick man at the last gasp--not for themselves
+(the laws forbid it)--but for third parties belonging more or less
+to the very convenient class of men of straw. Doctor Baleinier was
+therefore one of the most active and valuable assistant members of the
+Paris Jesuits.
+
+When he entered the room, he hastened to kiss the princess's hand with
+the most finished gallantry.
+
+"Always punctual, my dear M. Baleinier."
+
+"Always eager and happy to attend to your highness's orders." Then
+turning towards the marquis, whose hand he pressed cordially, he added:
+"Here we have you then at last. Do you know, that three months' absence
+appears very long to your friends?"
+
+"The time is as long to the absent as to those who remain, my dear
+doctor. Well! here is the great day, Mdlle. de Cardoville is coming."
+
+"I am not quite easy," said the princess; "suppose she had any
+suspicion?"
+
+"That's impossible," said M. Baleinier; "we are the best friends in the
+world. You know, that Mdlle. Adrienne has always had great confidence in
+me. The day before yesterday, we laughed a good deal, and as I made some
+observations to her, as usual, on her eccentric mode of life, and on the
+singular state of excitement in which I sometimes found her--"
+
+"M. Baleinier never fails to insist on these circumstances, in
+appearance so insignificant," said Madame de Saint-Dizier to the marquis
+with a meaning look.
+
+"They are indeed very essential," replied the other.
+
+"Mdlle. Adrienne answered my observations," resumed the doctor, "by
+laughing at me in the gayest and most witty manner; for I must confess,
+that this young lady has one of the aptest and most accomplished minds I
+know."
+
+"Doctor, doctor!" said Madame de Saint-Dizier, "no weakness!"
+
+Instead of answering immediately, M. Baleinier drew his gold snuff-box
+from his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and took slowly a pinch of snuff,
+looking all the time at the princess with so significant an air, that
+she appeared quite reassured. "Weakness, madame?" observed he at last,
+brushing some grains of snuff from his shirt-front with his plump white
+hand; "did I not have the honor of volunteering to extricate you from
+this embarrassment?"
+
+"And you are the only person in the world that could render us this
+important service," said D'Aigrigny.
+
+"Your highness sees, therefore," resumed the doctor, "that I am not
+likely to show any weakness. I perfectly understand the responsibility
+of what I undertake; but such immense interests, you told me, were at
+stake--"
+
+"Yes," said D'Aigrigny, "interests of the first consequence."
+
+"Therefore I did not hesitate," proceeded M. Baleinier; "and you need
+not be at all uneasy. As a man of taste, accustomed to good society,
+allow me to render homage to the charming qualities of Mdlle. Adrienne;
+when the time for action comes, you will find me quite as willing to do
+my work."
+
+"Perhaps, that moment may be nearer than we thought," said Madame de
+Saint-Dizier, exchanging a glance with D'Aigrigny.
+
+"I am, and will be, always ready," said the doctor. "I answer for
+everything that concerns myself. I wish I could be as tranquil on every
+other point."
+
+"Is not your asylum still as fashionable--as an asylum can well be?"
+asked Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a half smile.
+
+"On the contrary. I might almost complain of having too many boarders.
+It is not that. But, whilst we are waiting for Mdlle. Adrienne, I will
+mention another subject, which only relates to her indirectly, for
+it concerns the person who, bought Cardoville Manor, one Madame de la
+Sainte-Colombe, who has taken me for a doctor, thanks to Rodin's able
+management."
+
+"True," said D'Aigrigny; "Rodin wrote to me on the subject--but without
+entering into details."
+
+"These are the facts," resumed the doctor. "This Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe, who was at first considered easy enough to lead, has shown
+herself very refractory on the head of her conversion. Two spiritual
+directors have already renounced the task of saving her soul. In
+despair, Rodin unslipped little Philippon on her. He is adroit,
+tenacious, and above all patient in the extreme--the very man that was
+wanted. When I got Madame de la Sainte-Colombe for a patient, Philippon
+asked my aid, which he was naturally entitled to. We agreed upon our
+plan. I was not to appear to know him the least in the world; and he
+was to keep me informed of the variations in the moral state of his
+penitent, so that I might be able, by the use of very inoffensive
+medicines--for there was nothing dangerous in the illness--to keep my
+patient in alternate states of improvement or the reverse, according as
+her director had reason to be satisfied or displeased--so that he might
+say to her: 'You see, madame, you are in the good way! Spiritual grace
+acts upon your bodily health, and you are already better. If, on the
+contrary, you fall back into evil courses, you feel immediately some
+physical ail, which is a certain proof of the powerful influence of
+faith, not only on the soul, but on the body also?'"
+
+"It is doubtless painful," said D'Aigrigny, with perfect coolness, "to
+be obliged to have recourse to such means, to rescue perverse souls
+from perdition--but we must needs proportion our modes of action to the
+intelligence and the character of the individual."
+
+"By-the-bye, the princess knows," resumed the doctor, "that I have often
+pursued this plan at St. Mary's Convent, to the great advantage of
+the soul's peace and health of some of our patients, being extremely
+innocent. These alternations never exceed the difference between 'pretty
+well,' and 'not quite so well.' Yet small as are the variations, they
+act most efficaciously on certain minds. It was thus with Madame de la
+Sainte-Colombe. She was in such a fair way of recovery, both moral
+and physical, that Rodin thought he might get Philippon to advise
+the country for his penitent, fearing that Paris air might occasion a
+relapse. This advice, added to the desire the woman had to play 'lady of
+the parish,' induced her to buy Cardoville Manor, a good investment in
+any respect. But yesterday, unfortunate Philippon came to tell me, that
+Madame de la Sainte-Colombe was about to have an awful relapse--moral,
+of course--for her physical health is now desperately good. The said
+relapse appears to have been occasioned by an interview she has had with
+one Jacques Dumoulin, whom they tell me you know, my dear abbe; he has
+introduced himself to her, nobody can guess how."
+
+"This Jacques Dumoulin," said the marquis, with disgust, "is one of
+those men, that we employ while we despise. He is a writer full of gall,
+envy, and hate, qualities that give him a certain unmercifully cutting
+eloquence. We pay him largely to attack our enemies, though it is often
+painful to see principles we respect defended by such a pen. For this
+wretch lives like a vagabond--is constantly in taverns--almost always
+intoxicated--but, I must own, his power of abuse is inexhaustible, and
+he is well versed in the most abstruse theological controversies, so
+that he is sometimes very useful to us."
+
+"Well! though Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is hard upon sixty, it appears
+that Dumoulin has matrimonial views on her large fortune. You will do
+well to inform Rodin, so that he may be on his guard against the dark
+designs of this rascal. I really beg a thousand pardons for having so
+long occupied you with such a paltry affair--but, talking of St. Mary's
+Convent," added the doctor, addressing the princess, "may I take the
+liberty of asking if your highness has been there lately?"
+
+The princess exchanged a rapid glance with D'Aigrigny, and answered:
+"Oh, let me see! Yes, I was there about a week ago."
+
+"You will find great changes then. The wall that was next to my asylum
+has been taken down, for they are going to build anew wing and a chapel,
+the old one being too small. I must say in praise of Mdlle. Adrienne"
+continued the doctor with a singular smile aside, "that she promised me
+a copy of one of Raphael's Madonnas for this chapel."
+
+"Really? very appropriate!" said the princess. "But here it is almost
+noon, and M. Tripeaud has not come."
+
+"He is the deputy-guardian of Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose property he
+has managed, as former agent of the count-duke," said the marquis, with
+evident anxiety, "and his presence here is absolutely indispensable. It
+is greatly to be desired that his coming should precede that of Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, who may be here at any moment."
+
+"It is unlucky that his portrait will not do as well," said the doctor,
+smiling maliciously, and drawing a small pamphlet from his pocket.
+
+"What is that, doctor?" asked the princess.
+
+"One of those anonymous sheets, which are published from time to time.
+It is called the 'Scourge,' and Baron Tripeaud's portrait is drawn with
+such faithfulness, that it ceases to be satire. It is really quite life
+like; you have only to listen. The sketch is entitled: 'TYPE OF THE LYNX
+SPECIES.'
+
+"'The Baron Tripeaud.--This man, who is as basely humble towards his
+social superiors, as he is insolent and coarse to those who depend upon
+him--is the living, frightful incarnation of the worst pardon of
+the moneyed and commercial aristocracy--one of the rich and cynical
+speculators, without heart, faith or conscience, who would speculate for
+a rise or fall on the death of his mother, if the death of his mother
+could influence the price of stocks.
+
+"'Such persons have all the odious vices of men suddenly elevated, not
+like those whom honest and patient labor has nobly enriched, but like
+those who owe their wealth to some blind caprice of fortune, or some
+lucky cast of the net in the miry waters of stock-jobbing.
+
+"'Once up in the world, they hate the people--because the people remind
+them of a mushroom origin of which they are ashamed. Without pity for
+the dreadful misery of the masses, they ascribe it wholly to idleness
+or debauchery because this calumny forms an excuse for their barbarous
+selfishness.
+
+"'And this is not all. On the strength of his well-filled safe, mounted
+on his right of the candidate, Baron Tripeaud insults the poverty and
+political disfranchisement--of the officer, who, after forty years of
+wars and hard service, is just able to live on a scanty pension--Of the
+magistrate, who has consumed his strength in the discharge of stern and
+sad duties, and who is not better remunerated in his litter days--Of the
+learned man who has made his country illustrious by useful labors;
+or the professor who has initiated entire generations in the various
+branches of human knowledge--Of the modest and virtuous country curate,
+the pure representative of the gospel, in its charitable, fraternal, and
+democratic tendencies, etc.
+
+"'In such a state of things, how should our shoddy baron of in-dust-ry
+not feel the most sovereign contempt for all that stupid mob of honest
+folk, who, having given to their country their youth, their mature age,
+their blood, their intelligence, their learning, see themselves deprived
+of the rights which he enjoys, because he has gained a million by unfair
+and illegal transactions?
+
+"'It is true, that your optimists say to these pariahs of civilization,
+whose proud and noble poverty cannot be too much revered and honored:
+"Buy an estate and you too may be electors and candidates!"'
+
+"'But to come to the biography of our worthy baron--Andrew Tripeaud, the
+son of an ostler, at a roadside inn.'"
+
+At this instant the folding-doors were thrown open, and the valet
+announced: "The Baron Tripeaud!"
+
+Dr. Baleinier put his pamphlet into his pocket, made the most cordial
+bow to the financier, and even rose to give him his hand. The baron
+entered the room, overwhelming every one with salutations. "I have the
+honor to attend the orders of your highness the princess. She knows that
+she may always count upon me."
+
+"I do indeed rely upon you, M. Tripeaud, and particularly under present
+circumstances."
+
+"If the intentions of your highness the princess are still the same with
+regard to Mdlle. de Cardoville--"
+
+"They are still the same, M. Tripeaud, and we meet to-day on that
+subject."
+
+"Your highness may be assured of my concurrence, as, indeed, I have
+already promised. I think that the greatest severity must at length be
+employed, and that even if it were necessary."
+
+"That is also our opinion," said the marquis, hastily making a sign to
+the princess, and glancing at the place where the man in spectacles was
+hidden; "we are all perfectly in harmony. Still, we must not leave any
+point doubtful, for the sake of the young lady herself, whose interests
+alone guides us in this affair. We must draw out her sincerity by every
+possible means."
+
+"Mademoiselle has just arrived from the summer-house and wishes to see
+your highness," said the valet, again entering, after having knocked at
+the door.
+
+"Say that I wait for her," answered the princess; "and now I am at home
+to no one--without exception. You understand me; absolutely to no one."
+
+Thereupon, approaching the curtain behind which the man was concealed,
+Mme. de Saint-Dizier gave him the cue--after which she returned to her
+seat.
+
+It is singular, but during the short space which preceded Adrienne's
+arrival, the different actors in this scene appeared uneasy and
+embarrassed, as if they had a vague fear of her coming. In about a
+minute, Mdlle. de Cardoville entered the presence of her aunt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. THE SKIRMISH.
+
+On entering, Mdlle. de Cardoville threw down upon a chair the gray
+beaver hat she had worn to cross the garden, and displayed her fine
+golden hair, falling on either side of her face in long, light ringlets,
+and twisted in a broad knot behind her head. She presented herself
+without boldness, but with perfect ease: her countenance was gay and
+smiling; her large black eyes appeared even more brilliant than usual.
+When she perceived Abbe d'Aigrigny, she started in surprise, and her
+rosy lips were just touched with a mocking smile.
+
+After nodding graciously to the doctor, she passed Baron Tripeaud by
+without looking at him, and saluted the princess with stately obeisance,
+in the most fashionable style.
+
+Though the walk and bearing of Mdlle. de Cardoville were extremely
+elegant, and full of propriety and truly feminine grace, there was about
+her an air of resolution and independence by no means common in women,
+and particularly in girls of her age. Her movements, without being
+abrupt, bore no traces of restraint, stiffness, or formality. They were
+frank and free as her character, full of life, youth, and freshness; and
+one could easily divine that so buoyant, straightforward, and decided a
+nature had never been able to conform itself to the rules of an affected
+rigor.
+
+Strangely enough, though he was a man of the world, a man of great
+talent, a churchman distinguished for his eloquence, and, above all,
+a person of influence and authority. Marquis d'Aigrigny experienced
+an involuntary, incredible, almost painful uneasiness, in presence of
+Adrienne de Cardoville. He--generally so much the master of himself, so
+accustomed to exercise great power--who (in the name of his Order)
+had often treated with crowned heads on the footing of an equal, felt
+himself abashed and lowered in the presence of this girl, as remarkable
+for her frankness as for her biting irony. Now, as men who are
+accustomed to impose their will upon others generally hate those who,
+far from submitting to their influence, hamper it and make sport of
+them, it was no great degree of affection that the marquis bore towards
+the Princess de Saint-Dizier's niece.
+
+For a long time past, contrary to his usual habit, he had ceased to try
+upon Adrienne that fascinating address to which he had often owed an
+irresistible charm; towards her he had become dry, curt, serious, taking
+refuge in that icy sphere of haughty dignity and rigid austerity which
+completely hid all those amiable qualities with which he was endowed
+and of which, in general, he made such efficient use. Adrienne was much
+amused at all this, and thereby showed her imprudence--for the most
+vulgar motives often engender the most implacable hatreds.
+
+From these preliminary observations, the reader will understand the
+divers sentiments and interests which animated the different actors in
+the following scene.
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier was seated in a large arm-chair by one side
+of the hearth. Marquis d'Aigrigny was standing before the fire. Dr.
+Baleinier seated near a bureau, was again turning over the leaves
+of Baron Tripeaud's biography, whilst the baron appeared to be very
+attentively examining one of the pictures of sacred subjects suspended
+from the wall.
+
+"You sent for me, aunt, to talk upon matters of importance?" said
+Adrienne, breaking the silence which had reigned in the reception-room
+since her entrance.
+
+"Yes, madame," answered the princess, with a cold and severe mien; "upon
+matters of the gravest importance."
+
+"I am at your service, aunt. Perhaps we had better walk into your
+library?"
+
+"It is not necessary. We can talk here." Then, addressing the marquis,
+the doctor, and the baron, she said to them, "Pray, be seated,
+gentlemen," and they all took their places round the table.
+
+"How can the subject of our interview interest these gentlemen, aunt?"
+asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise.
+
+"These gentlemen are old family friends; all that concerns you must
+interest them, and their advice ought to be heard and accepted by you
+with respect."
+
+"I have no doubt, aunt, of the bosom friendship of M. d'Aigrigny for our
+family: I have still less of the profound and disinterested devotion
+of M. Tripeaud; M. Baleinier is one of my old friends; still, before
+accepting these gentlemen as spectators, or, if you will, as confidants
+of our interview, I wish to know what we are going to talk of before
+them."
+
+"I thought that, among your many singular pretensions, you had at least
+those of frankness and courage."
+
+"Really, aunt," said Adrienne, smiling with mock humility, "I have no
+more pretensions to frankness and courage than you have to sincerity and
+goodness. Let us admit, once for all, that we are what we are--without
+pretension."
+
+"Be it so," said Madame de Saint-Dizier, in a dry tone; "I have long
+been accustomed to the freaks of your independent spirit. I suppose,
+then, that, courageous and frank as you say you are, you will not be
+afraid to speak before such grave and respectable persons as these
+gentlemen what you would speak to me alone?"
+
+"Is it a formal examination that I am to submit to? if so, upon what
+subject?"
+
+"It is not an examination: but, as I have a right to watch over you, and
+as you take advantage of my weak compliance with your caprices, I mean
+to put an end to what has lasted too long, and tell you my irrevocable
+resolutions for the future, in presence of friends of the family. And,
+first, you have hitherto had a very false and imperfect notion of my
+power over you."
+
+"I assure you, aunt, that I have never had any notion, true or false, on
+the subject--for I have never even dreamt about it."
+
+"That is my own fault; for, instead of yielding to your fancies, I
+should have made you sooner feel my authority; but the moment has come
+to submit yourself; the severe censures of my friends have enlightened
+me in time. Your character is self-willed, independent, stubborn; it
+must change--either by fair means or by force, understand me, it shall
+change."
+
+At these words, pronounced harshly before strangers, with a severity
+which did not seem at all justified by circumstances, Adrienne tossed
+her head proudly; but, restraining herself, she answered with a smile:
+"You say, aunt, that I shall change. I should not be astonished at it.
+We hear of such odd conversions."
+
+The princess bit her lips.
+
+"A sincere conversion can never be called odd, as you term it, madame,"
+said Abbe d'Aigrigny, coldly. "It is, on the contrary, meritorious, and
+forms an excellent example."
+
+"Excellent?" answered Adrienne: "that depends! For instance, what if one
+converts defects into vices?"
+
+"What do you mean, madame?" cried the princess.
+
+"I am speaking of myself, aunt; you reproach me of being independent and
+resolute--suppose I were to become hypocritical and wicked? In truth,
+I prefer keeping my dear little faults, which I love like spoiled
+children. I know what I am; I do not know what I might be."
+
+"But you must acknowledge, Mdlle. Adrienne," said Baron Tripeaud, with a
+self-conceited and sententious air, "that a conversion--"
+
+"I believe," said Adrienne, disdainfully, "that M. Tripeaud is well
+versed in the conversion of all sorts of property into all sorts of
+profit, by all sorts of means--but he knows nothing of this matter."
+
+"But, madame," resumed the financier, gathering courage from a glance
+of the princess, "you forget that I have the honor to be your deputy
+guardian, and that--"
+
+"It is true that M. Tripeaud has that honor," said Adrienne, with still
+more haughtiness, and not even looking at the baron; "I could never tell
+exactly why. But as it is not now the time to guess enigmas, I wish to
+know, aunt, the object and the end of this meeting?"
+
+"You shall be satisfied, madame. I will explain myself in a very clear
+and precise manner. You shall know the plan of conduct that you will
+have henceforth to pursue; and if you refuse to submit thereto, with the
+obedience and respect that is due to my orders, I shall at once see what
+course to take."
+
+It is impossible to give an idea of the imperious tone and stern look
+of the princess, as she pronounced these words which were calculated to
+startle a girl, until now accustomed to live in a great measure as she
+pleased: yet, contrary perhaps to the expectation of Madame de Saint
+Dizier, instead of answering impetuously, Adrienne looked her full in
+the face, and said, laughing: "This is a perfect declaration of war.
+It's becoming very amusing."
+
+"We are not talking of declarations of war," said the Abbe d'Aigrigny,
+harshly, as if offended by the expressions of Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"Now, M. l'Abbe!" returned Adrienne, "for an old colonel, you are really
+too severe upon a jest!--you are so much indebted to 'war,' which gave
+you a French regiment after fighting so long against France--in order to
+learn, of course, the strength and the weakness of her enemies."
+
+On these words, which recalled painful remembrances, the marquis
+colored; he was going to answer, but the princess exclaimed: "Really,
+madame, your behavior is quite intolerable!"
+
+"Well, aunt, I acknowledge I was wrong. I ought not to have said this
+is very amusing--for it is not so, at all; but it is at least very
+curious--and perhaps," added the young girl, after a moment's silence,
+"perhaps very audacious and audacity pleases me. As we are upon this
+subject, and you talk of a plan of conduct to which I must conform
+myself, under pain of (interrupting herself)--under pain of what, I
+should like to know, aunt?"
+
+"You shall know. Proceed."
+
+"I will, in the presence of these gentlemen, also declare, in a very
+plain and precise manner, the determination that I have come to. As it
+required some time to prepare for its execution, I have not spoken of it
+sooner, for you know I am not in the habit of saying, 'I will do so and
+so!' but I do it."
+
+"Certainly; and it is just this habit of culpable independence of which
+you must break yourself."
+
+"Well, I had intended only to inform you of my determination at a later
+period; but I cannot resist the pleasure of doing so to-day, you seem so
+well disposed to hear and receive it. Still, I would beg of you to speak
+first: it may just so happen, that our views are precisely the same."
+
+"I like better to see you thus," said the princess. "I acknowledge at
+least the courage of your pride, and your defiance of all authority. You
+speak of audacity--yours is indeed great."
+
+"I am at least decided to do that which others in their weakness dare
+not--but which I dare. This, I hope, is clear and precise."
+
+"Very clear, very precise," said the princess, exchanging a glance of
+satisfaction with the other actors in this scene. "The positions being
+thus established, matters will be much simplified. I have only to
+give you notice, in your own interest, that this is a very serious
+affair--much more so than you imagine--and that the only way to dispose
+me to indulgence, is to substitute, for the habitual arrogance and irony
+of your language, the modesty and respect becoming a young lady."
+
+Adrienne smiled, but made no reply. Some moments of silence, and some
+rapid glances exchanged between the princess and her three friends,
+showed that these encounters, more or less brilliant in themselves, were
+to be followed by a serious combat.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had too much penetration and sagacity, not
+to remark, that the Princess de Saint-Dizier attached the greatest
+importance to this decisive interview. But she could not understand how
+her aunt could hope to impose her absolute will upon her: the threat of
+coercive measures appearing with reason a mere ridiculous menace. Yet,
+knowing the vindictive character of her aunt, the secret power at
+her disposal, and the terrible vengeance she had sometimes
+exacted--reflecting, moreover, that men in the position of the marquis
+and the doctor would not have come to attend this interview without some
+weighty motive--the young lady paused for a moment before she plunged
+into the strife.
+
+But soon, the very presentiment of some vague danger, far from weakening
+her, gave her new courage to brave the worst, to exaggerate, if that
+were possible, the independence of her ideas, and uphold, come what
+might, the determination that she was about to signify to the Princess
+de Saint Dizier.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. THE REVOLT
+
+"Madame," said the princess to Adrienne de Cardoville, in a cold,
+severe tone, "I owe it to myself, as well as to these gentlemen, to
+recapitulate, in a few words, the events that have taken place for some
+time past. Six months ago, at the end of the mourning for your father,
+you, being eighteen years old, asked for the management of your fortune,
+and for emancipation from control. Unfortunately, I had the weakness
+to consent. You quitted the house, and established yourself in
+the extension, far from all superintendence. Then began a train of
+expenditures, each one more extravagant than the last. Instead of being
+satisfied with one or two waiting-women, taken from that class
+from which they are generally selected, you chose governesses for
+lady-companions, whom you dressed in the most ridiculous and costly
+fashion. It is true, that, in the solitude of your pavilion, you
+yourself chose to wear, one after another, costumes of different ages.
+Your foolish fancies and unreasonable whims have been without end and
+without limit: not only have you never fulfilled your religious duties,
+but you have actually had the audacity to profane one of your rooms,
+by rearing in the centre of it a species of pagan altar, on which is a
+group in marble representing a youth and a girl"--the princess uttered
+these words as if they would burn her lips--"a work of art, if you will,
+but a work in the highest degree unsuitable to a person of your age. You
+pass whole days entirely secluded in your pavilion, refusing to see any
+one; and Dr. Baleinier, the only one of my friends in whom you seem to
+have retained some confidence, having succeeded by much persuasion in
+gaining admittance, has frequently found you in so very excited a state,
+that he has felt seriously uneasy with regard to your health. You have
+always insisted on going out alone, without rendering any account of
+your actions to any one. You have taken delight in opposing, in every
+possible way, your will to my authority. Is all this true?"
+
+"The picture of my past is not much flattered," said Adrienne; smiling,
+"but it is not altogether unlike."
+
+"So you admit, madame," said Abbe d'Aigrigny, laying stress on his
+words, "that all the facts stated by your aunt are scrupulously true?"
+
+Every eye was turned towards Adrienne, as if her answer would be of
+extreme importance.
+
+"Yes, M. l'Abbe," said she; "I live openly enough to render this
+question superfluous."
+
+"These facts are therefore admitted," said Abbe d'Aigrigny, turning
+towards the doctor and the baron.
+
+"These facts are completely established," said M. Tripeaud, in a pompous
+voice.
+
+"Will you tell me, aunt," asked Adrienne, "what is the good of this long
+preamble?"
+
+"This long preamble, madame," resumed the princess with dignity,
+"exposes the past in order to justify the future."
+
+"Really, aunt, such mysterious proceedings are a little in the style
+of the answers of the Cumaean Sybil. They must be intended to cover
+something formidable."
+
+"Perhaps, mademoiselle--for to certain characters nothing is so
+formidable as duty and obedience. Your character is one of those
+inclined to revolt--"
+
+"I freely acknowledge it, aunt--and it will always be so, until duty and
+obedience come to me in a shape that I can respect and love."
+
+"Whether you respect and love my orders or not, madame," said the
+princess, in a curt, harsh voice, "you will, from to-day, from this
+moment, learn to submit blindly and absolutely to my will. In one word,
+you will do nothing without my permission: it is necessary, I insist
+upon it, and so I am determined it shall be."
+
+Adrienne looked at her aunt for a second, and then burst into so free
+and sonorous a laugh, that it rang for quite a time through the vast
+apartment. D'Aigrigny and Baron Tripeaud started in indignation. The
+princess looked angrily at her niece. The doctor raised his eyes to
+heaven, and clasped his hands over his waistcoat with a sanctimonious
+sigh.
+
+"Madame," said Abbe d'Aigrigny, "such fits of laughter are highly
+unbecoming. Your aunt's words are serious, and deserve a different
+reception."
+
+"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, recovering herself, "it is not my fault if
+I laugh. How can I maintain my gravity, when I hear my aunt talking
+of blind submission to her orders? Is the swallow, accustomed to
+fly upwards and enjoy the sunshine, fledged to live with the mole in
+darkness?"
+
+At this answer, D'Aigrigny affected to stare at the other members of
+this kind of family council with blank astonishment.
+
+"A swallow? what does she mean?" asked the abbe of the baron making a
+sign, which the latter understood.
+
+"I do not know," answered Tripeaud, staring in his turn at the doctor.
+"She spoke too of a mole. It 'is quite unheard-of--incomprehensible."
+
+"And so, madame," said the princess, appearing to share in the surprise
+of the others, "this is the reply that you make to me?"
+
+"Certainly," answered Adrienne, astonished herself that they should
+pretend not to understand the simile of which she had made use,
+accustomed as she was to speak in figurative language.
+
+"Come, come, madame," said Dr. Baleinier, smiling good-humoredly, "we
+must be indulgent. My dear Mdlle. Adrienne has naturally so uncommon and
+excitable a nature! She is really the most charming mad woman I know; I
+have told her so a hundred times, in my position of an old friend, which
+allows such freedom."
+
+"I can conceive that your attachment makes you indulgent--but it is
+not the less true, doctor," said D'Aigrigny, as if reproaching him for
+taking the part of Mdlle. de Cardoville, "that such answers to serious
+questions are most extravagant."
+
+"The evil is, that mademoiselle does not seem to comprehend the serious
+nature of this conference," said the princess, harshly. "She will
+perhaps understand it better when I have given her my orders."
+
+"Let us hear these orders, aunt," replied Adrienne as, seated on the
+other side of the table, opposite to the princess, she leaned her small,
+dimpled chin in the hollow of her pretty hand, with an air of graceful
+mockery, charming to behold.
+
+"From to-morrow forward," resumed the princess, "you will quit the
+summer-house which you at present inhabit, you will discharge your
+women, and come and occupy two rooms in this house, to which there will
+be no access except through my apartment. You will never go out alone.
+You will accompany me to the services of the church. Your emancipation
+terminates, in consequence of your prodigality duly proven. I will take
+charge of all your expenses, even to the ordering of your clothes,
+so that you may be properly and modestly dressed. Until your majority
+(which will be indefinitely postponed, by means of the intervention of a
+family-council), you will have no money at your own disposal. Such is my
+resolution."
+
+"And certainly your resolution can only be applauded, madame," said
+Baron Tripeaud; "we can but encourage you to show the greatest firmness,
+for such disorders must have an end."
+
+"It is more than time to put a stop to such scandal," added the abbe.
+
+"Eccentricity and exaltation of temperament--may excuse many things,"
+ventured to observe the smooth-tongued doctor.
+
+"No doubt," replied the princess dryly to Baleinier, who played his part
+to perfection; "but then, doctor, the requisite measures must be taken
+with such characters."
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier had expressed herself in a firm and precise
+manner; she appeared convinced of the possibility of putting her threats
+into execution. M. Tripeaud and D'Aigrigny had just now given their full
+consent to the words of the princess. Adrienne began to perceive that
+something very serious was in contemplation, and her gayety was at once
+replaced by an air of bitter irony and offended independence.
+
+She rose abruptly, and colored a little; her rosy nostrils dilated, her
+eyes flashed fire, and, as she raised her head, she gently shook the
+fine, wavy golden hair, with a movement of pride that was natural to
+her. After a moment's silence, she said to her aunt in a cutting tone:
+"You have spoken of the past, madame; I also will speak a few words
+concerning it, since you force me to do so, though I may regret the
+necessity. I quitted your dwelling, because it was impossible for me to
+live longer in this atmosphere of dark hypocrisy and black treachery."
+
+"Madame," said D'Aigrigny, "such words are as violent as they are
+unreasonable."
+
+"Since you interrupt me, sir," said Adrienne, hastily, as she fixed her
+eyes on the abbe, "tell me what examples did I meet with in my aunt's
+house?"
+
+"Excellent, examples, madame."
+
+"Excellent, sir? Was it because I saw there, every day, her conversion
+keep pace with your own?"
+
+"Madame, you forget yourself!" cried the princess, becoming pale with
+rage.
+
+"Madame, I do not forget--I remember, like other people; that is all. I
+had no relation of whom I could ask an asylum. I wished to live alone.
+I wished to enjoy my revenues--because I chose rather to spend them
+myself, than to see them wasted by M. Tripeaud."
+
+"Madame," cried the baron, "I cannot imagine how you can presume--"
+
+"Sir!" said Adrienne, reducing him to silence by a gesture of
+overwhelming lordliness, "I speak of you--not to you. I wished to spend
+my income," she continued, "according to my own tastes. I embellished
+the retreat that I had chosen. Instead of ugly, ill-taught servants, I
+selected girls, pretty and well brought up, though poor. Their education
+forbade their being subjected to any humiliating servitude, though I
+have endeavored to make their situation easy and agreeable. They do
+not serve me, but render me service--I pay them, but I am obliged to
+them--nice distinctions that your highness will not understand, I know.
+Instead of seeing them badly or ungracefully dressed, I have given them
+clothes that suit their charming faces well, because I like whatever is
+young and fair. Whether I dress myself one way or the other, concerns
+only my looking-glass. I go out alone, because I like to follow my
+fancy. I do not go to mass--but, if I had still a mother, I would
+explain to her my devotions, and she would kiss me none the less
+tenderly. It is true, that I have raised a pagan altar to youth and
+beauty, because I adore God in all that He has made fair and good, noble
+and grand--because, morn and evening, my heart repeats the fervent and
+sincere prayer: 'Thanks, my Creator! thanks!'--Your highness says that
+M. Baleinier has often found me in my solitude, a prey to a strange
+excitement: yes, it is true; for it is then that, escaping in thought
+from all that renders the present odious and painful to me, I find
+refuge in the future--it is then that magical horizons spread far before
+me--it is then that such splendid visions appear to me, as make me
+feel myself rapt in a sublime and heavenly ecstasy, as if I no longer
+appertained to earth!"
+
+As Adrienne pronounced these last words with enthusiasm, her countenance
+appeared transfigured, so resplendent did it become. In that moment, she
+had lost sight of all that surrounded her.
+
+"It is then," she resumed, with spirit soaring higher and higher, "that
+I breathe a pure air, reviving and free--yes, free--above all, free--and
+so salubrious, so grateful to the soul!--Yes, instead of seeing my
+sisters painfully submit to a selfish, humiliating, brutal dominion,
+which entails upon them the seductive vices of slavery, the graceful
+fraud, the enchanting perfidy, the caressing falsehood, the contemptuous
+resignation, the hateful obedience--I behold them, my noble sisters!
+worthy and sincere because they are free, faithful and devoted because
+they have liberty to choose--neither imperious not base, because they
+have no master to govern or to flatter--cherished and respected, because
+they can withdraw from a disloyal hand their hand, loyally bestowed.
+Oh, my sisters! my sisters! I feel it. These are not merely consoling
+visions--they are sacred hopes."
+
+Carried away, in spite of herself, by the excitement of her feelings,
+Adrienne paused for a moment, in order to return to earth; she did not
+perceive that the other actors in this scene were looking at each other
+with an air of delight.
+
+"What she says there is excellent," murmured the doctor in the
+princess's ear, next to whom he was seated; "were she in league with us,
+she would not speak differently."
+
+"It is only by excessive harshness," added D'Aigrigny, "that we shall
+bring her to the desired point."
+
+But it seemed as if the vexed emotion of Adrienne had been dissipated by
+the contact of the generous sentiments she had just uttered. Addressing
+Baleinier with a smile, she said: "I must own, doctor, that there
+is nothing more ridiculous, than to yield to the current of certain
+thoughts, in the presence of persons incapable of understanding them.
+This would give you a fine opportunity to make game of that exaltation
+of mind for which you sometimes reproach me. To let myself be carried
+away by transports at so serious a moment!--for, verily, the matter in
+hand seems to be serious. But you see, good M. Baleinier, when an idea
+comes into my head, I can no more help following it out, than I could
+refrain from running after butterflies when I was a little girl."
+
+"And heaven only knows whither these brilliant butterflies of all
+colors," said M. Baleinier, smiling with an air of paternal indulgence,
+"that are passing through your brain, are likely to lead you. Oh,
+madcap, when will she be as reasonable as she is charming?"
+
+"This very instant, my good doctor," replied Adrienne. "I am about
+to cast off my reveries for realities, and speak plain and positive
+language, as you shall hear."
+
+Upon which, addressing her aunt, she continued: "You have imparted to
+me your resolution, madame; I will now tell you mine. Within a week,
+I shall quit the pavilion that I inhabit, for a house which I have
+arranged to my taste, where I shall live after my own fashion. I have
+neither father nor mother, and I owe no account of my actions to any but
+myself."
+
+"Upon my word, mademoiselle," said the princess, shrugging her
+shoulders, "you talk nonsense. You forget that society has inalienable
+moral rights, which we are bound to enforce. And we shall not neglect
+them, depend upon it."
+
+"So madame, it is you, and M. d'Aigrigny, and M. Tripeaud, that
+represent the morality of society! This appears to me very fine. Is it
+because M. Tripeaud has considered (I must acknowledge it) my fortune as
+his own? Is it because--"
+
+"Now, really, madame," began Tripeaud.
+
+"In good time, madame," said Adrienne to her aunt, without noticing the
+baron, "as the occasion offers, I shall have to ask you for explanations
+with regard to certain interests, which have hitherto, I think, been
+concealed from me."
+
+These words of Adrienne made D'Aigrigny and the princess start, and then
+rapidly exchange a glance of uneasiness and anxiety. Adrienne did
+not seem to perceive it, but thus continued: "To have done with your
+demands, madame, here is my final resolve. I shall live where and how I
+please. I think that, if I were a man, no one would impose on me, at my
+age, the harsh and humiliating guardianship you have in view, for living
+as I have lived till now--honestly, freely, and generously, in the sight
+of all."
+
+"This idea is absurd! is madness!" cried the princess. "To wish to
+live thus alone, is to carry immorality and immodesty to their utmost
+limits."
+
+"If so, madame," said Adrienne, "what opinion must you entertain of so
+many poor girls, orphans like myself, who live alone and free, as I
+wish to live? They have not received, as I have, a refined education,
+calculated to raise the soul, and purify the heart. They have not
+wealth, as I have, to protect them from the evil temptations of misery;
+and yet they live honestly and proudly in their distress."
+
+"Vice and virtue do not exist for such tag-rag vermin!" cried Baron
+Tripeaud, with an expression of anger and hideous disdain.
+
+"Madame, you would turn away a lackey, that would venture to speak thus
+before you," said Adrienne to her aunt, unable to conceal her disgust,
+"and yet you oblige me to listen to such speeches!"
+
+The Marquis d'Aigrigny touched M. Tripeaud with his knee under the
+table, to remind him that he must not express himself in the princess's
+parlors in the same manner as he would in the lobbies of the Exchange.
+To repair the baron's coarseness, the abbe thus continued: "There is no
+comparison, mademoiselle, between people of the class you name, and a
+young lady of your rank."
+
+"For a Catholic priest, M. l'Abbe, that distinction is not very
+Christian," replied Adrienne.
+
+"I know the purport of my words, madame," answered the abbe, dryly;
+"besides the independent life that you wish to lead, in opposition to
+all reason, may tend to very serious consequences for you. Your family
+may one day wish to see you married--"
+
+"I will spare my family that trouble, sir, if I marry at all, I will
+choose for myself, which also appears to me reasonable enough. But, in
+truth, I am very little tempted by that heavy chain, which selfishness
+and brutality rivet for ever about our necks."
+
+"It is indecent, madame," said the princess, "to speak so lightly of
+such an institution."
+
+"Before you, especially, madame, I beg pardon for having shocked your
+highness! You fear that my independent planner of living will frighten
+away all wooers; but that is another reason for persisting in my
+independence, for I detest wooers. I only hope that they may have the
+very worst opinion of me, and there is no better means of effecting that
+object, than to appear to live as they live themselves. I rely upon my
+whims, my follies, my sweet faults, to preserve me from the annoyance of
+any matrimonial hunting."
+
+"You will be quite satisfied on that head," resumed Madame de Saint
+Dizier, "if unfortunately the report should gain credit, that you have
+carried the forgetfulness of all duty and decency, to such a height, as
+to return home at eight o'clock in the morning. So I am told is the case
+but I cannot bring myself to believe such an enormity."
+
+"You are wrong, madame, for it is quite true."
+
+"So you confess it?" cried the princess.
+
+"I confess all that I do, madame. I came home this morning at eight
+o'clock."
+
+"You hear Gentlemen?" ejaculated the princess.
+
+"Oh!" said M. d'Aigrigny, in a bass voice.
+
+"Ah!" said the baron, in a treble key.
+
+"Oh!" muttered the doctor, with a deep sigh.
+
+On hearing these lamentable exclamations, Adrienne seemed about to
+speak, perhaps to justify herself; but her lip speedily assumed a
+curl of contempt, which showed that she disdained to stoop to any
+explanation.
+
+"So it is true," said the princess. "Oh, wretched girl, you had
+accustomed me to be astonished at nothing; but, nevertheless, I doubted
+the possibility of such conduct. It required your impudent and audacious
+reply to convince the of the fact."
+
+"Madame, lying has always appeared to be more impudent than to speak the
+truth."
+
+"And where had you been, madame? and for what?"
+
+"Madame," said Adrienne, interrupting her aunt, "I never speak
+false--but neither do I speak more than I choose; and then again, it
+were cowardice to defend myself from a revolting accusation. Let us say
+no more about it: your importunities on this head will be altogether
+vain. To resume: you wish to impose upon me a harsh and humiliating
+restraint; I wish to quit the house I inhabit, to go and live where I
+please, at my own fancy. Which of us two will yield, remains to be seen.
+Now for another matter: this mansion belongs to me! As I am about to
+leave it, I am indifferent whether you continue to live here or not;
+but the ground floor is uninhabited. It contains, besides the
+reception-rooms, two complete sets of apartments; I have let them for
+some time."
+
+"Indeed!" said the princess, looking at D'Aigrigny with intense
+surprise. "And to whom," she added ironically, "have you disposed of
+them?"
+
+"To three members of my family."
+
+"What does all this mean?" said Mme. de Saint-Dizier, more and more
+astonished.
+
+"It means, madame, that I wish to offer a generous hospitality to a
+young Indian prince, my kinsman on my mother's side. He will arrive in
+two or three days, and I wish to have the rooms ready to receive him."
+
+"You hear, gentlemen?" said D'Aigrigny to the doctor and Tripeaud, with
+an affectation of profound stupor.
+
+"It surpasses all one could imagine!" exclaimed the baron.
+
+"Alas!" observed the doctor, benignantly, "the impulse is generous in
+itself--but the mad little head crops out?"
+
+"Excellent!" said the princes. "I cannot prevent you madame, from
+announcing the most extravagant designs but it is presumable that you
+will not stop short in so fair a path. Is that all?"
+
+"Not quite, your highness. I learned this morning, that two of my female
+relations, also on my mother's side--poor children of fifteen--orphan
+daughters of Marshal Simon arrived yesterday from a long journey, and
+are now with the wife of the brave soldier who brought them to France
+from the depths of Siberia."
+
+At these words from Adrienne, D'Aigrigny and the princess could not help
+starting suddenly, and staring at each other with affright, so far were
+they from expecting that Mdlle. de Cardoville was informed of the coming
+of Marshal Simon's daughters. This discovery was like a thunder-clap to
+them.
+
+"You are no doubt astonished at seeing me so well informed," said
+Adrienne; "fortunately, before I have done, I hope to astonish you still
+more. But to return to these daughters of Marshal Simon: your highness
+will understand, that it is impossible for me to leave them in charge of
+the good people who have afforded them a temporary asylum. Though this
+family is honest, and hard-working, it is not the place for them. I
+shall go and fetch them hither, and lodge them in apartments on the
+ground-floor, along with the soldier's wife, who will do very well to
+take care of them."
+
+Upon these words, D'Aigrigny and the baron looked at each other, and the
+baron exclaimed: "Decidedly, she's out of her head."
+
+Without a word to Tripeaud, Adrienne continued: "Marshal Simon cannot
+fail to arrive at Paris shortly. Your highness perceives how pleasant it
+will he, to be able to present his daughters to him, and prove that they
+have been treated as they deserve. To-morrow morning I shall send for
+milliners and mantua makers, so that they may want for nothing. I desire
+their surprised father, on his return, to find them every way beautiful.
+They are pretty, I am told, as angels--but I will endeavor to make
+little Cupids of them."
+
+"At last, madame, you must have finished?" said the princess, in a
+sardonic and deeply irritated tone, whilst D'Aigrigny, calm and cold in
+appearance, could hardly dissemble his mental anguish.
+
+"Try again!" continued the princess, addressing Adrienne. "Are there no
+more relations that you wish to add to this interesting family-group?
+Really a queen could not act with more magnificence."
+
+"Right! I wish to give my family a royal reception--such as is due to
+the son of a king, and the daughters of the Duke de Ligny. It is well to
+unite other luxuries of life with the luxury of the hospitable heart."
+
+"The maxim is assuredly generous," said the princess, becoming more and
+more agitated; "it is only a pity that you do not possess the mines of
+El Dorado to make it practicable."
+
+"It was on the subject of a mine, said to be a rich one, that I also
+wished to speak to your highness. Could I find a better opportunity?
+Though my fortune is already considerable, it is nothing to what may
+come to our family at any moment. You will perhaps excuse, therefore,
+what you are pleased to call my royal prodigalities."
+
+D'Aigrigny's dilemma became momentarily more and more thorny. The affair
+of the medals was so important, that he had concealed it even from
+Dr. Baleinier, though he had called in his services to forward immense
+interests. Neither had Tripeaud been informed of it, for the princess
+believed that she had destroyed every vestige of those papers of
+Adrienne's father, which might have put him on the scent of this
+discovery. The abbe, therefore was not only greatly alarmed that Mdlle.
+de Cardoville might be informed of this secret, but he trembled lest she
+should divulge it.
+
+The princess, sharing the alarms of D'Aigrigny, interrupted her niece by
+exclaiming: "Madame, there are certain family affairs which ought to be
+kept secret, and, without exactly understanding to what you allude, I
+must request you to change the subject."
+
+"What, madame! are we not here a family party? Is that not sufficiently
+evident by the somewhat ungracious things that have been here said?"
+
+"No matter, madame! when affairs of interest are concerned, which
+are more or less disputable, it is perfectly useless to speak of them
+without the documents laid before every one."
+
+"And of what have we been speaking this hour, madame, if not of
+affairs of interest? I really do not understand your surprise and
+embarrassment."
+
+"I am neither surprised nor embarrassed, madame; but for the last two
+hours, you have obliged me to listen to so many new and extravagant
+things, that a little amaze is very permissible."
+
+"I beg your highness's pardon, but you are very much embarrassed," said
+Adrienne, looking fixedly at her aunt, "and M. d'Aigrigny also--which
+confirms certain suspicions that I have not had the time to clear up.
+Have I then guessed rightly?" she added, after a pause. "We will see--"
+
+"Madame, I command you to be silent," cried the princess, no longer
+mistress of herself.
+
+"Oh, madame!" said Adrienne, "for a person who has in general so much
+command of her feelings, you compromise yourself strangely."
+
+Providence (as some will have it) came to the aid of the princess and
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny at this critical juncture. A valet entered the
+room; his countenance bore such marks of fright and agitation, that the
+princess exclaimed as soon as she saw him: "Why, Dubois! what is the
+matter?"
+
+"I have to beg pardon, your highness, for interrupting you against
+your express orders, but a police inspector demands to speak with you
+instantly. He is below stairs, and the yard is full of policemen and
+soldiers."
+
+Notwithstanding the profound surprise which this new incident occasioned
+her, the princess, determining to profit by the opportunity thus
+afforded, to concert prompt measures with D'Aigrigny on the subject of
+Adrienne's threatened revelations, rose, and said to the abbe: "Will you
+be so obliging as to accompany me, M. d'Aigrigny, for I do not know what
+the presence of this commissary of police may signify."
+
+D'Aigrigny followed the speaker into the next room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. TREACHERY.
+
+The Princess de Saint-Dizier, accompanied by D'Aigrigny, and followed
+by the servants, stopped short in the next room to that in which had
+remained Adrienne, Tripeaud and the doctor.
+
+"Where is the commissary?" asked the princess of the servant, who had
+just before announced to her the arrival of that magistrate.
+
+"In the blue saloon, madame."
+
+"My compliments, and beg him to wait for me a few moments."
+
+The man bowed and withdrew. As soon as he was gone Madame de Saint
+Dizier approached hastily M. d'Aigrigny, whose countenance, usually firm
+and haughty, was now pale and agitated.
+
+"You see," cried the princess in a hurried voice, "Adrienne knows all.
+What shall we do?--what?"
+
+"I cannot tell," said the abbe, with a fixed and absent look. "This
+disclosure is a terrible blow to us."
+
+"Is all, then, lost?"
+
+"There is only one means of safety," said M. d'Aigrigny;--"the doctor."
+
+"But how?" cried the princess. "So, sudden? this very day?"
+
+"Two hours hence, it will be too late; ere then, this infernal girl will
+have seen Marshal Simon's daughters."
+
+"But--Frederick!--it is impossible! M. Baleinier will never consent. I
+ought to have been prepared before hand as we intended, after to-day's
+examination."
+
+"No matter," replied the abbe, quickly; "the doctor must try at any
+hazard."
+
+"But under what pretext?"
+
+"I will try and find one."
+
+"Suppose you were to find a pretext, Frederick, and we could act
+immediately--nothing would be ready down there."
+
+"Be satisfied: they are always ready there, by habitual foresight."
+
+"How instruct the doctor on the instant?" resumed the princess.
+
+"To send for him would be to rouse the suspicions of your niece," said
+M. d'Aigrigny, thoughtfully; "and we must avoid that before everything."
+
+"Of course," answered the princess; "her confidence in the doctor is one
+of our greatest resources."
+
+"There is a way," said the abbe quickly; "I will write a few words in
+haste to Baleinier: one of your people can take the note to him, as if
+it came from without--from a patient dangerously ill."
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried the princess. "You are right. Here--upon this
+table--there is everything necessary for writing. Quick! quick--But will
+the doctor succeed?"
+
+"In truth, I scarcely dare to hope it," said the marquis, sitting down
+at the table with repressed rage. "Thanks to this examination, going
+beyond our hopes, which our man, hidden behind the curtain, has
+faithfully taken down in shorthand--thanks to the violent scenes, which
+would necessarily have occurred to-morrow and the day after--the doctor,
+by fencing himself round with all sorts of clever precautions, would
+have been able to act with the most complete certainty. But to ask this
+of him to-day, on the instant!--Herminia--it is folly to think of!"--The
+marquis threw down the pen which he held in his hand; then he added,
+in a tone of bitter and profound irritation: "At the very moment of
+success--to see all our hopes destroyed!--Oh, the consequences of all
+this are incalculable. Your niece will be the cause of the greatest
+mischief--oh! the greatest injury to us."
+
+It is impossible to describe the expression of deep rage and implacable
+hatred with which D'Aigrigny uttered these last words.
+
+"Frederick," cried the princess with anxiety, as she clasped her hands
+strongly around the abbe's, "I conjure you, do not despair!--The doctor
+is fertile in resources, and he is so devoted to us. Let us at least,
+make the attempt."
+
+"Well--it is at least a chance," said the abbe, taking up the pen again.
+
+"Should it come to the worst." said the princess, "and Adrienne go this
+evening to fetch General Simon's daughters, she may perhaps no longer
+find them.
+
+"We cannot hope for that. It is impossible that Rodin's orders should
+have been so quickly executed. We should have been informed of it."
+
+"It is true. Write then to the doctor; I will send you Dubois, to carry
+your letter. Courage, Frederick! we shall yet be too much for that
+ungovernable girl." Madame de Saint-Dizier added, with concentrated
+rage: "Oh, Adrienne! Adrienne! you shall pay dearly for your insolent
+sarcasms, and the anxiety you have caused us."
+
+As she went out, the princess turned towards M. d'Aigrigny, and said to
+him: "Wait for me here. I will tell you the meaning of this visit of the
+police, and we will go in together."
+
+The princess disappeared. D'Aigrigny dashed off a few words, with a
+trembling hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. THE SNARE.
+
+After the departure of Madame de Saint-Dizier and the marquis, Adrienne
+had remained in her aunt's apartment with M. Baleinier and Baron
+Tripeaud.
+
+On hearing of the commissary's arrival, Mdlle. de Cardoville had felt
+considerable uneasiness; for there could be no doubt that, as Agricola
+had apprehended, this magistrate was come to search the hotel and
+extension, in order to find the smith, whom he believed to be concealed
+there.
+
+Though she looked upon Agricola's hiding-place as a very safe one,
+Adrienne was not quite tranquil on his account; so in the event of any
+unfortunate accident, she thought it a good opportunity to recommend the
+refugee to the doctor, an intimate friend, as we have said, of one
+of the most influential ministers of the day. So, drawing near to the
+physician, who was conversing in a low voice with the baron, she said
+to him in her softest and most coaxing manner: "My good M. Baleinier, I
+wish to speak a few words with you." She pointed to the deep recess of
+one of the windows.
+
+"I am at your orders, madame," answered the doctor, as he rose to follow
+Adrienne to the recess.
+
+M. Tripeaud, who, no longer sustained by the abbe's presence, dreaded
+the young lady as he did fire, was not sorry for this diversion. To keep
+up appearances, he stationed himself before one of the sacred pictures,
+and began again to contemplate it, as if there were no bounds to his
+admiration.
+
+When Mdlle. de Cardoville was far enough from the baron, not to be
+overheard by him, she said to the physician, who, all smiles and
+benevolence, waited for her to explain: "My good doctor, you are
+my friend, as you were my father's. Just now, notwithstanding the
+difficulty of your position, you had the courage to show yourself my
+only partisan."
+
+"Not at all, madame; do not go and say such things!" cried the doctor,
+affecting a pleasant kind of anger. "Plague on't! you would get me
+into a pretty scrape; so pray be silent on that subject. Vade retro
+Satanas!--which means: Get thee behind me, charming little demon that
+you are!"
+
+"Do not be afraid," answered Adrienne, with a smile; "I will not
+compromise you. Only allow me to remind you, that you have often made me
+offers of service, and spoken to me of your devotion."
+
+"Put me to the test--and you will see if I do not keep my promises."
+
+"Well, then! give me a proof on the instant," said Adrienne, quickly.
+
+"Capital! this is how I like to be taken at my word. What can I do for
+you?"
+
+"Are you still very intimate with your friend the minister?"
+
+"Yes; I am just treating him for a loss of voice, which he always has,
+the day they put questions to him in the house. He likes it better."
+
+"I want you to obtain from him something very important for me."
+
+"For you? pray, what is it?"
+
+At this instant, the valet entered the room, delivered a letter to M.
+Baleinier, and said to him: "A footman has just brought this letter for
+you, sir; it is very pressing."
+
+The physician took the letter, and the servant went out.
+
+"This is one of the inconveniences of merit," said Adrienne, smiling;
+"they do not leave you a moment's rest, my poor doctor."
+
+"Do not speak of it, madame," said the physician, who could not conceal
+a start of amazement, as he recognized the writing of D'Aigrigny; "these
+patients think we are made of iron, and have monopolized the health
+which they so much need. They have really no mercy. With your
+permission, madame," added M. Baleinier, looking at Adrienne before he
+unsealed the letter.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville answered by a graceful nod. Marquis d'Aigrigny's
+letter was not long; the doctor read it at a single glance, and,
+notwithstanding his habitual prudence, he shrugged his shoulders, and
+said hastily: "Today! why, it's impossible. He is mad."
+
+"You speak no doubt of some poor patient, who has placed all his hopes
+in you--who waits and calls for you at this moment. Come, my dear M.
+Baleinier, do not reject his prayer. It is so sweet to justify the
+confidence we inspire."
+
+There was at once so much analogy, and such contradiction, between the
+object of this letter, written just before by Adrienne's most implacable
+enemy, and these words of commiseration which she spoke in a touching
+voice, that Dr. Baleinier himself could not help being struck with it.
+He looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with an almost embarrassed air, as he
+replied: "I am indeed speaking of one of my patients, who counts much
+upon me--a great deal too much--for he asks me to do an impossibility.
+But why do you feel so interested in an unknown person?"
+
+"If he is unfortunate, I know enough to interest me. The person for whom
+I ask your assistance with the minister, was quite as little known to
+me; and now I take the deepest interest in him. I must tell you, that he
+is the son of the worthy soldier who brought Marshal Simon's daughters
+from the heart of Siberia."
+
+"What! he is--"
+
+"An honest workman, the support of his family; but I must tell you all
+about it--this is how the affair took place."
+
+The confidential communication which Adrienne was going to make to
+the doctor, was cut short by Madame Saint-Dizier, who, followed by M.
+d'Aigrigny, opened abruptly the door. An expression of infernal joy,
+hardly concealed beneath a semblance of extreme indignation, was visible
+in her countenance.
+
+M. d'Aigrigny threw rapidly, as he entered the apartment, an inquiring
+and anxious glance at M. Baleinier. The doctor answered by a shake of
+the head. The abbe bit his lips with silent rage; he had built his last
+hopes upon the doctor, and his projects seemed now forever annihilated,
+notwithstanding the new blow which the princess had in reserve for
+Adrienne.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Madame de Saint-Dizier, in a sharp, hurried voice, for
+she was nearly choking with wicked pleasure, "gentlemen, pray be seated!
+I have some new and curious things to tell you, on the subject of this
+young lady." She pointed to her niece, with a look of ineffable hatred
+and disdain.
+
+"My poor child, what is the matter now?" said M. Baleinier, in a soft,
+wheedling tone, before he left the window where he was standing with
+Adrienne. "Whatever happens, count upon me!"--And the physician went to
+seat himself between M. d'Aigrigny and M. Tripeaud.
+
+At her aunt's insolent address, Mdlle. de Cardoville had proudly lined
+her head. The blood rushed to her face, and irritated at the new attacks
+with which she was menaced, she advanced to the table where the princess
+was seated, and said in an agitated voice to M. Baleinier: "I shall
+expect you to call on me as soon as possible, my dear doctor. You know
+that I wish particularly to speak with you."
+
+Adrienne made one step towards the arm-chair, on which she had left her
+hat. The princess rose abruptly, and exclaimed: "What are you doing,
+madame?"
+
+"I am about to retire. Your highness has expressed to me your will, and
+I have told you mine. It is enough."
+
+She took her hat. Madame de Saint-Dizier, seeing her prey about to
+escape, hastened towards her niece, and, in defiance of all propriety,
+seized her violently by the arm with a convulsive grasp, and bade her,
+"Remain!"
+
+"Fie, madame!" exclaimed Adrienne, with an accent of painful contempt,
+"have we sunk so low?"
+
+"You wish to escape--you are afraid!" resumed Madame de Saint-Dizier,
+looking at her disdainfully from head to foot.
+
+With these words "you are afraid," you could have made Adrienne de
+Cardoville walk into a fiery furnace. Disengaging her arm from her
+aunt's grasp, with a gesture full of nobleness and pride, she threw down
+the hat upon the chair, and returning to the table, said imperiously to
+the princess: "There is something even stronger than the disgust with
+which all this inspires me--the fear of being accused of cowardice. Go
+on, madame! I am listening!"
+
+With her head raised, her color somewhat heightened, her glance half
+veiled by a tear of indignation, her arms folded over her bosom, which
+heaved in spite of herself with deep emotion, and her little foot
+beating convulsively on the carpet, Adrienne looked steadily at her
+aunt. The princess wished to infuse drop by drop, the poison with
+which she was swelling, and make her victim suffer as long as possible,
+feeling certain that she could not escape. "Gentlemen," said Madame de
+Saint-Dizier, in a forced voice, "this has occurred: I was told that
+the commissary of police wished to speak with me: I went to receive this
+magistrate; he excused himself, with a troubled air, for the nature of
+the duty he had to perform. A man, against whom a warrant was out, had
+been seen to enter the garden-house."
+
+Adrienne started, there could be no doubt that Agricola was meant. But
+she recovered her tranquillity, when she thought of the security of the
+hiding-place she had given him.
+
+"The magistrate," continued the princess, "asked my consent to search
+the hotel and extension, to discover this man. It was his right. I
+begged him to commence with the garden-house, and accompanied him.
+Notwithstanding the improper conduct of Mademoiselle, it never, I
+confess, entered my head for a moment, that she was in any way mixed up
+with this police business. I was deceived."
+
+"What do you mean, madame?" cried Adrienne.
+
+"You shall know all, madame," said the princess, with a triumphant air,
+"in good time. You were in rather too great a hurry just now, to show
+yourself so proud and satirical. Well! I accompanied the commissary
+in his search; we came to the summer-house; I leave you to imagine the
+stupor and astonishment of the magistrate, on seeing three creatures
+dressed up like actresses. At my request, the fact was noted in the
+official report; for it is well to reveal such extravagances to all whom
+it may concern."
+
+"The princess acted very wisely," said Tripeaud, bowing; "it is well
+that the authorities should be informed of such matters."
+
+Adrienne, too much interested in the fate of the workman to think of
+answering Tripeaud or the princess, listened in silence, and strove to
+conceal her uneasiness.
+
+"The magistrate," resumed Madame de Saint-Dizier, "began by a severe
+examination of these young girls; to learn if any man had, with their
+knowledge, been introduced into the house; with incredible effrontery,
+they answered that they had seen nobody enter."
+
+"The true-hearted, honest girls!" thought Mademoiselle de Cardoville,
+full of joy; "the poor workman is safe! the protection of Dr. Baleinier
+will do the rest."
+
+"Fortunately," continued the princess, "one of my women, Mrs. Grivois,
+had accompanied me. This excellent person, remembering to have seen
+Mademoiselle return home at eight o'clock in the morning, remarked with
+much simplicity to the magistrate, that the man, whom they sought,
+might probably have entered by the little garden gate, left open,
+accidentally, by Mademoiselle."
+
+"It would have been well, madame," said Tripeaud, "to have caused to be
+noted also in the report, that Mademoiselle had returned home at eight
+o'clock in the morning."
+
+"I do not see the necessity for this," said the doctor, faithful to his
+part: "it would have been quite foreign to the search carried on by the
+commissary."
+
+"But, doctor," said Tripeaud.
+
+"But, baron," resumed M. Baleinier, in a firm voice, "that is my
+opinion."
+
+"It was not mine, doctor," said the princess; "like M. Tripeaud, I
+considered it important to establish the fact by an entry in the report,
+and I saw, by the confused and troubled countenance of the magistrate,
+how painful it was to register the scandalous conduct of a young person
+placed in so high a position in society."
+
+"Certainly, madame," said Adrienne, losing patience, "I believe your
+modesty to be about equal to that of this candid commissary of police;
+but it seems to me, that your mutual innocence was alarmed a little too
+soon. You might, and ought to have reflected, that there was nothing
+extraordinary in my coming home at eight o'clock, if I had gone out at
+six."
+
+"The excuse, though somewhat tardy, is at least cunning," said the
+princess, spitefully.
+
+"I do not excuse myself, madame," said Adrienne; "but as M. Baleinier
+has been kind enough to speak a word in my favor, I give the possible
+interpretation of a fact, which it would not become me to explain in
+your presence."
+
+"The fact will stand, however, in the report," said Tripeaud, "until the
+explanation is given."
+
+Abbe d'Aigrigny, his forehead resting on his hand, remained as if a
+stranger to this scene; he was too much occupied with his fears at the
+consequences of the approaching interview between Mdlle. de Cardoville
+and Marshal Simon's daughters--for there seemed no possibility of using
+force to prevent Adrienne from going out that evening.
+
+Madame de Saint-Dizier went on: "The fact which so greatly scandalized
+the commissary is nothing compared to what I yet have to tell you,
+gentlemen. We had searched all parts of the pavilion without finding any
+one, and were just about to quit the bed-chamber, for we had taken
+this room the last, when Mrs. Grivois pointed out to us that one of the
+golden mouldings of a panel did not appear to come quite home to the
+wall. We drew the attention of the magistrate to this circumstance; his
+men examined, touched, felt--the panel flew open!--and then--can you
+guess what we discovered? But, no! it is too odious, too revolting; I
+dare not even--"
+
+"Then I dare, madame," said Adrienne, resolutely, though she saw with
+the utmost grief the retreat of Agricola was discovered; "I will spare
+your highness's candor the recital of this new scandal, and yet what I
+am about to say is in nowise intended as a justification."
+
+"It requires one, however," said Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a
+disdainful smile; "a man concealed by you in your own bedroom."
+
+"A man concealed in her bedroom!" cried the Marquis d'Aigrigny, raising
+his head with apparent indignation, which only covered a cruel joy.
+
+"A man! in the bedroom of Mademoiselle!" added Baron Tripeaud. "I hope
+this also was inserted in the report."
+
+"Yes, yes, baron," said the princess with a triumphant air.
+
+"But this man," said the doctor, in a hypocritical tone, "must have
+been a robber? Any other supposition would be in the highest degree
+improbable. This explains itself."
+
+"Your indulgence deceives you, M. Baleinier," answered the princess,
+dryly.
+
+"We knew the sort of thieves," said Tripeaud; "they are generally young
+men, handsome, and very rich."
+
+"You are wrong, sir," resumed Madame de Saint-Dizier. "Mademoiselle does
+not raise her views so high. She proves that a dereliction from duty
+may be ignoble as well as criminal. I am no longer astonished at the
+sympathy which was just now professed for the lower orders. It is the
+more touching and affecting, as the man concealed by her was dressed in
+a blouse."
+
+"A blouse!" cried the baron, with an air of extreme disgust; "then he is
+one of the common people? It really makes one's hair stand on end."
+
+"The man is a working smith--he confessed it," said the princess; "but
+not to be unjust--he is really a good-looking fellow. It was doubtless
+that singular worship which Mademoiselle pays to the beautiful--"
+
+"Enough, madame, enough!" said Adrienne suddenly, for, hitherto
+disdaining to answer, she had listened to her aunt with growing and
+painful indignation; "I was just now on the point of defending myself
+against one of your odious insinuations--but I will not a second time
+descend to any such weakness. One word only, madame; has this honest and
+worthy artisan been arrested?"
+
+"To be sure, he has been arrested and taken to prison, under a strong
+escort. Does not that pierce your heart?" sneered the princess, with a
+triumphant air. "Your tender pity for this interesting smith must indeed
+be very great, since it deprives you of your sarcastic assurance."
+
+"Yes, madame; for I have something better to do than to satirize that
+which is utterly odious and ridiculous," replied Adrienne, whose eyes
+grew dim with tears at the thought of the cruel hurt to Agricola's
+family. Then, putting her hat on, and tying the strings, she said to the
+doctor: "M. Baleinier, I asked you just now for your interest with the
+minister."
+
+"Yes, madame; and it will give me great pleasure to act on your behalf."
+
+"Is your carriage below?"
+
+"Yes, madame," said the doctor, much surprised.
+
+"You will be good enough to accompany me immediately to the minister's.
+Introduced by you, he will not refuse me the favor, or rather the act of
+justice, that I have to solicit."
+
+"What, mademoiselle," said the princess; "do you dare take such a
+course, without my orders, after what has just passed? It is really
+quite unheard-of."
+
+"It confounds one," added Tripeaud; "but we must not be surprised at
+anything."
+
+The moment Adrienne asked the doctor if his carriage was below,
+D'Aigrigny started. A look of intense satisfaction flashed across his
+countenance, and he could hardly repress the violence of his delight,
+when, darting, a rapid and significant glance at the doctor, he saw
+the latter respond to it by trace closing his eyelids in token of
+comprehension and assent.
+
+When therefore the princess resumed, in an angry tone,
+addressing herself to Adrienne: "Madame, I forbid you leaving the
+house!"--D'Aigrigny said to the speaker, with a peculiar inflection
+of the voice: "I think, your highness, we may trust the lady to the
+doctor's care."
+
+The marquis pronounced these words in so significant a manner, that
+the princess, having looked by turns at the physician and D'Aigrigny,
+understood it all, and her countenance grew radiant with joy.
+
+Not only did this pass with extreme rapidity, but the night was already
+almost come, so that Adrienne, absorbed in painful thoughts with regard
+to Agricola, did not perceive the different signals exchanged between
+the princess, the doctor, and the abbe. Even had she done so, they would
+have been incomprehensible to her.
+
+Not wishing to have the appearance of yielding too readily, to the
+suggestion of the marquis, Madame de Saint-Dizier resumed: "Though the
+doctor seems to me to be far too indulgent to mademoiselle, I might not
+see any great objection to trusting her with him; but that I do not wish
+to establish such a precedent, for hence forward she must have no will
+but mine."
+
+"Madame," said the physician gravely, feigning to be somewhat shocked by
+the words of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, "I do not think I have been
+too indulgent to mademoiselle--but only just. I am at her orders,
+to take her to the minister if she wishes it. I do not know what
+she intends to solicit, but I believe her incapable of abusing the
+confidence I repose in her, or making me support a recommendation
+undeserved."
+
+Adrienne, much moved, extended her hand cordially to the doctor, and
+said to him: "Rest assured, my excellent friend, that you will thank me
+for the step I am taking, for you will assist in a noble action."
+
+Tripeaud, who was not in the secret of the new plans of the doctor and
+the abbe in a low voice faltered to the latter, with a stupefied air,
+"What! will you let her go?"
+
+"Yes, yes," answered D'Aigrigny abruptly, making a sign that he should
+listen to the princess, who was about to speak. Advancing towards her
+niece, she said to her in a slow and measured tone, laying a peculiar
+emphasis on every word: "One moment more, mademoiselle--one last word
+in presence of these gentlemen. Answer me! Notwithstanding the heavy
+charges impending over you, are you still determined to resist my formal
+commands?"
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Notwithstanding the scandalous exposure which has just taken place, you
+still persist in withdrawing yourself from my authority?"
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"You refuse positively to submit to the regular and decent mode of life
+which I would impose upon you?"
+
+"I have already told you, madame, that I am about to quit this dwelling
+in order to live alone and after my own fashion."
+
+"Is that your final decision?"
+
+"It is my last word."
+
+"Reflect! the matter is serious. Beware!"
+
+"I have given your highness my last word, and I never speak it twice."
+
+"Gentlemen, you hear all this?" resumed the princess; "I have tried in
+vain all that was possible to conciliate. Mademoiselle will have only
+herself to thank for the measures to which this audacious revolt will
+oblige me to have recourse."
+
+"Be it so, madame," replied Adrienne. Then, addressing M. Baleinier, she
+said quickly to him: "Come, my dear doctor; I am dying with impatience.
+Let us set out immediately. Every minute lost may occasion bitter tears
+to an honest family."
+
+So saying, Adrienne left the room precipitately with the physician.
+One of the servants called for M. Baleinier's carriage. Assisted by
+the doctor, Adrienne mounted the step, without perceiving that he said
+something in a low whisper to the footman that opened the coach-door.
+
+When, however, he was seated by the side of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and
+the door was closed upon them, he waited for about a second, and
+then called out in a loud voice to the coachman: "To the house of the
+minister, by the private entrance!" The horses started at a gallop.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. A FALSE FRIEND.
+
+Night had set in dark and cold. The sky, which had been clear till the
+sun went down, was now covered with gray and lurid clouds; a strong wind
+raised here and there, in circling eddies, the snow that was beginning
+to fall thick and fast.
+
+The lamps threw a dubious light into the interior of Dr. Baleinier's
+carriage, in which he was seated alone with Adrienne de Cardoville.
+The charming countenance of the latter, faintly illumined by the lamps
+beneath the shade of her little gray hat, looked doubly white and pure
+in contrast with the dark lining of the carriage, which was now filled
+with that, sweet, delicious, and almost voluptuous perfume which hangs
+about the garments of young women of taste. The attitude of the girl,
+seated next to the doctor, was full of grace. Her slight and elegant
+figure, imprisoned in her high-necked dress of blue cloth, imprinted its
+wavy outline on the soft cushion against which she leaned; her little
+feet, crossed one upon the other, and stretched rather forward, rested
+upon a thick bear-skin, which carpeted the bottom of the carriage.
+In her hand, which was ungloved and dazzlingly white, she held a
+magnificently embroidered handkerchief, with which, to the great
+astonishment of M. Baleinier, she dried her eyes, now filled with tears.
+
+Yes; Adrienne wept, for she now felt the reaction from the painful
+scenes through which she had passed at Saint-Dizier House; to the
+feverish and nervous excitement, which had till then sustained her, had
+succeeded a sorrowful dejection. Resolute in her independence, proud
+in her disdain, implacable in her irony, audacious in her resistance
+to unjust oppression, Adrienne was yet endowed with the most acute
+sensibility, which she always dissembled, however, in the presence of
+her aunt and those who surrounded her.
+
+Notwithstanding her courage, no one could have been less masculine, less
+of a virago, than Mdlle. Cardoville. She was essentially womanly, but as
+a woman, she knew how to exercise great empire over herself, the moment
+that the least mark of weakness on her part would have rejoiced or
+emboldened her enemies.
+
+The carriage had rolled onwards for some minutes; but Adrienne, drying
+her tears in silence, to the doctor's great astonishment, had not yet
+uttered a word.
+
+"What, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne?" said M. Baleinier, truly surprised at
+her emotion; "what! you, that were just now so courageous, weeping?"
+
+"Yes," answered Adrienne, in an agitated voice; "I weep in presence of a
+friend; but, before my aunt--oh! never."
+
+"And yet, in that long interview, your stinging replies--"
+
+"Ah me! do you think that I resigned myself with pleasure to that war
+of sarcasm? Nothing is more painful to me than such combats of bitter
+irony, to which I am forced by the necessity of defending myself
+from this woman and her friends. You speak of my courage: it does not
+consist, I assure you, in the display of wicked feelings--but in the
+power to repress and hide all that I suffer, when I hear myself
+treated so grossly--in the presence, too, of people that I hate and
+despise--when, after all, I have never done them any harm, and have only
+asked to be allowed to live alone, freely and quietly, and see those
+about me happy."
+
+"That's where it is: they envy your happiness, and that which you bestow
+upon others."
+
+"And it is my aunt," cried Adrienne, with indignation, "my aunt, whose
+whole life has been one long scandal that accuses me in this revolting
+manner!--as if she did not know me proud and honest enough never to
+make a choice of which I should be ashamed! Oh! if I ever love, I shall
+proclaim it, I shall be proud of it: for love, as I understand it, is
+the most glorious feeling in the world. But, alas!" continued Adrienne,
+with redoubled bitterness, "of what use are truth and honor, if they do
+not secure you from suspicions, which are as absurd as they are odious?"
+So saying, she again pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
+
+"Come, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne," said M. Baleinier, in a voice full
+of the softest unction, "becalm--it is all over now. You have in me a
+devoted friend." As he pronounced these last words, he blushed in spite
+of his diabolical craft.
+
+"I know you are my friend," said Adrienne: "I shall never forget that,
+by taking my part to-day, you exposed yourself to the resentment of my
+aunt--for I am not ignorant of her power, which is very great, alas! for
+evil."
+
+"As for that," said the doctor, affecting a profound indifference, "we
+medical men are pretty safe from personal enmities."
+
+"Nay, my dear M. Baleinier! Mme. de Saint-Dizier and her friends
+never forgive," said the young girl, with a shudder. "It needed all my
+invincible aversion, my innate horror for all that is base, cowardly,
+and perfidious, to induce me to break so openly with her. But if death
+itself were the penalty, I could not hesitate and yet," she added, with
+one of those graceful smiles which gave such a charm to her beautiful
+countenance, "yet I am fond of life: if I have to reproach myself
+with anything, it is that I would have it too bright, too fair, too
+harmonious; but then, you know, I am resigned to my faults."
+
+"Well, come, I am more tranquil," said the doctor, gayly; "for you
+smile--that is a good sign."
+
+"It is often the wisest course; and yet, ought I smile, after the
+threats that my aunt has held out to me? Still, what can she do? what is
+the meaning of this kind of family council? Did she seriously think that
+the advice of a M. D'Aigrigny or a M. Tripeaud could have influenced me?
+And then she talked of rigorous measures. What measures can she take; do
+you know?"
+
+"I think, between ourselves, that the princess only wished to frighten
+you, and hopes to succeed by persuasion. She has the misfortune to fancy
+herself a mother of the Church, and dreams of your conversion," said the
+doctor, maliciously, for he now wished to tranquillize Adrienne at any
+cost; "but let us think no more about it. Your fire eyes must shine with
+all their lustre, to fascinate the minister that we are going to see."
+
+"You are right, dear doctor; we ought always avoid grief, for it has the
+disadvantage of making us forget the sorrows of others. But here am
+I, availing myself of your kindness, without even telling you what I
+require."
+
+"Luckily, we shall have plenty of time to talk over it, for our
+statesman lives at some distance."
+
+"In two words, here's the mystery," answered Adrienne. "I told you what
+reasons I had to interest myself in that honest workman. This morning he
+came to me in great grief, to inform me that he was compromised by some
+songs he had written (for he is a poet), and that, though innocent,
+he was threatened with an arrest; and if they put him into prison, his
+family, whose sole support he is, would die of hunger. Therefore he came
+to beg me to procure bail for him, so that he might be left at liberty
+to work: I promised immediately, thinking of your interest with the
+minister; for, as they were already in pursuit of the poor lad, I chose
+to conceal him in my residence, and you know how my aunt has twisted
+that action. Now tell me, do you think, that, by means of your
+recommendation, the minister will grant me the freedom of this workman,
+bail being given for the same?"
+
+"No doubt of it. There will not be the shadow of a
+difficulty--especially when you have explained the facts to him, with
+that eloquence of the heart which you possess in perfection."
+
+"Do you know, my dear Dr. Baleinier, why I have taken the resolution
+(which is perhaps a strange one) to ask you to accompany me to the
+minister's?"
+
+"Why, doubtless, to recommend your friend in a more effective manner."
+
+"Yes--but also to put an end, by a decisive step, to the calumnies which
+my aunt will be sure to spread with regard to me, and which she has
+already, you know, had inserted in the report of the commissary of
+police. I have preferred to address myself at once, frankly and openly,
+to a man placed in a high social position. I will explain all to him,
+who will believe me, because truth has an accent of its own."
+
+"All this, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne, is wisely planned. You will, as the
+saw says, kill two birds with one stone--or rather, you will obtain by
+one act of kindness two acts of justice; you will destroy a dangerous
+calumny, and restore a worthy youth to liberty."
+
+"Come," said Adrienne, laughing, "thanks to this pleasing prospect, my
+light heart has returned."
+
+"How true that in life," said the doctor, philosophically, "everything
+depends on the point of view."
+
+Adrienne was so completely ignorant of the forms of a constitutional
+government, and had so blind a confidence in the doctor, that she did
+not doubt for an instant what he told her. She therefore resumed with
+joy: "What happiness it will be! when I go to fetch the daughters of
+Marshal Simon, to be able to console this workman's mother, who is now
+perhaps in a state of cruel anxiety, at not seeing her son return home!"
+
+"Yes, you will have this pleasure," said M. Baleinier, with a smile;
+"for we will solicit and intrigue to such purpose, that the good, mother
+may learn from you the release of her son before she even knows that he
+has been arrested."
+
+"How kind, how obliging you are!" said Adrienne. "Really, if the motive
+were not so serious, I should be ashamed of making you lose so much
+precious time, my dear M. Baleinier. But I know your heart."
+
+"I have no other wish, than to prove to you my profound devotion, my
+sincere attachment," said the doctor inhaling a pinch of snuff. But
+at the same time, he cast an uneasy glance through the window, for the
+carriage was just crossing the Place de l'Odeon, and in spite of
+the snow, he could see the front of the Odeon theatre brilliantly
+illuminated. Now Adrienne, who had just turned her head towards that
+side, might perhaps be astonished at the singular road they were taking.
+
+In order to draw off her attention by a skillful diversion, the doctor
+exclaimed suddenly: "Bless me! I had almost forgotten."
+
+"What is the matter, M. Baleinier?" said Adrienne, turning hastily
+towards him.
+
+"I had forgotten a thing of the highest importance, in regard to the
+success of our petition."
+
+"What is it, please?" asked the young girl, anxiously.
+
+M. Baleinier gave a cunning smile. "Every man," said he, "has his
+weakness--ministers even more than others. The one we are going to visit
+has the folly to attach the utmost importance to his title, and the
+first impression would be unfavorable, if you did not lay great stress
+on the Minister."
+
+"Is that all, my dear M. Baleinier?" said Adrienne, smiling in her turn.
+"I will even go so far as Your Excellency, which is, I believe, one of
+his adopted titles."
+
+"Not now--but that is no matter; if you could even slide in a My Lord or
+two, our business would be done at once."
+
+"Be satisfied! since there are upstart ministers as well as City-turned
+gentlemen, I will remember Moliere's M. Jourdain, and feed full the
+gluttonous vanity of your friend."
+
+"I give him up to you, for I know he will be in good hands," replied the
+physician, who rejoiced to see that the carriage had now entered those
+dark streets which lead from the Place de l'Odeon to the Pantheon
+district; "I do not wish to find fault with the minister for being
+proud, since his pride may be of service to us on this occasion."
+
+"These petty devices are innocent enough," said Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+"and I confess that I do not scruple to have recourse to them." Then,
+leaning towards the door-sash, she added: "Gracious! how sad and dark
+are these streets. What wind! what snow! In which quarter are we?"
+
+"What! are you so ungrateful, that you do not recognize by the absence
+of shops, your dear quarter of the Faubourg Saint Germain?"
+
+"I imagine we had quitted it long ago."
+
+"I thought so too," said the physician, leaning forward as if to
+ascertain where they were, "but we are still there. My poor coachman,
+blinded by the snow, which is beating against his face, must have gone
+wrong just now--but we are all right again. Yes, I perceive we are in
+the Rue Saint Guillaume--not the gayest of streets by the way--but, in
+ten minutes, we shall arrive at the minister's private entrance, for
+intimate friends like myself enjoy the privilege of escaping the honors
+of a grand reception."
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, like most carriage-people, was so little
+acquainted with certain streets of Paris, as well as with the customs
+of men in office, that she did not doubt for a moment the statements of
+Baleinier, in whom she reposed the utmost confidence.
+
+When they left the Saint-Dizier House, the doctor had upon his lips a
+question which he hesitated to put, for fear of endangering himself in
+the eyes of Adrienne. The latter had spoken of important interests, the
+existence of which had been concealed from her. The doctor, who was
+an acute and skillful observer, had quite clearly remarked the
+embarrassment and anxiety of the princess and D'Aigrigny. He no longer
+doubted, that the plot directed against Adrienne--one in which he was
+the blind agent, in submission to the will of the Order--related to
+interests which had been concealed from him, and which, for that very
+reason, he burned to discover; for every member of the dark conspiracy
+to which he belonged had necessarily acquired the odious vices inherent
+to spies and informers--envy, suspicion, and jealous curiosity.
+
+It is easy to understand, therefore, that Dr. Baleinier, though quite
+determined to serve the projects of D'Aigrigny, was yet very anxious
+to learn what had been kept from him. Conquering his irresolution, and
+finding the opportunity favorable, and no time to be lost, he said to
+Adrienne, after a moment's silence: "I am going perhaps to ask you a
+very indiscreet question. If you think it such, pray do not answer."
+
+"Nay--go on, I entreat you."
+
+"Just now--a few minutes before the arrival of the commissary of police
+was announced to your aunt--you spoke, I think, of some great interests,
+which had hitherto been concealed from you."
+
+"Yes, I did so."
+
+"These words," continued M. Baleinier, speaking slowly and emphatically,
+"appeared to make a deep impression on the princess."
+
+"An impression so deep," said Adrienne, "that sundry suspicions of mine
+were changed to certainty."
+
+"I need not tell you, my charming friend," resumed M. Baleinier, in a
+bland tone, "that if I remind you of this circumstance, it is only to
+offer you my services, in case they should be required. If not--and
+there is the shadow of impropriety in letting me know more--forget that
+I have said a word."
+
+Adrienne became serious and pensive, and, after a silence of some
+moments, she thus answered Dr. Baleinier: "On this subject, there are
+some things that I do not know--others that I may tell you--others again
+that I must keep from you: but you are so kind to-day, that I am happy
+to be able to give you a new mark of confidence."
+
+"Then I wish to know nothing," said the doctor, with an air of humble
+deprecation, "for I should have the appearance of accepting a kind of
+reward; whilst I am paid a thousand times over, by the pleasure I feel
+in serving you."
+
+"Listen," said Adrienne, without attending to the delicate scruples of
+Dr. Baleinier; "I have powerful reasons for believing that an immense
+inheritance must, at no very distant period, be divided between
+the members of my family, all of whom I do not know--for, after the
+Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, those from whom we are descended
+were dispersed in foreign countries, and experienced a great variety of
+fortunes."
+
+"Really!" cried the doctor, becoming extremely interested. "Where is
+this inheritance, in whose hands?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Now how will you assert your rights?"
+
+"That I shall learn soon."
+
+"Who will inform you of it?"
+
+"That I may not tell you."
+
+"But how did you find out the existence of this inheritance?"
+
+"That also I may not tell you," returned Adrienne, in a soft and
+melancholy tone, which remarkably contrasted with the habitual vivacity
+of her conversation. "It is a secret--a strange secret--and in those
+moments of excitement, in which you have sometimes surprised me, I have
+been thinking of extraordinary circumstances connected with this secret,
+which awakened within me lofty and magnificent ideas."
+
+Adrienne paused and was silent, absorbed in her own reflections.
+Baleinier did not seek to disturb her. In the first place, Mdlle.
+de Cardoville did not perceive the direction the coach was taking;
+secondly, the doctor was not sorry to ponder over what he had just
+heard. With his usual perspicuity, he saw that the Abbe d'Aigrigny
+was concerned in this inheritance, and he resolved instantly to make a
+secret report on the subject; either M. d'Aigrigny was acting under the
+instructions of the Order, or by his own impulse; in the one event, the
+report of the doctor would confirm a fact; in the other, it would reveal
+one.
+
+For some time, therefore, the lady and Dr. Baleinier remained perfectly
+silent, no longer even disturbed by the noise of the wheels, for the
+carriage now rolled over a thick carpet of snow, and the streets had
+become more and more deserted. Notwithstanding his crafty treachery,
+notwithstanding his audacity and the blindness of his dupe, the doctor
+was not quite tranquil as to the result of his machinations. The
+critical moment approached, and the least suspicion roused in the
+mind of Adrienne by any inadvertence on his part, might ruin all his
+projects.
+
+Adrienne, already fatigued by the painful emotions of the day, shuddered
+from time to time, as the cold became more and more piercing; in her
+haste to accompany Dr. Baleinier, she had neglected to take either shawl
+or mantle.
+
+For some minutes the coach had followed the line of a very high wall,
+which, seen through the snow, looked white against a black sky. The
+silence was deep and mournful. Suddenly the carriage stopped, and
+the footman went to knock at a large gateway; he first gave two rapid
+knocks, and then one other at a long interval. Adrienne did not notice
+the circumstance, for the noise was not loud, and the doctor had
+immediately begun to speak, to drown with his voice this species of
+signal.
+
+"Here we are at last," said he gayly to Adrienne; "you must be very
+winning--that is, you must be yourself."
+
+"Be sure I will do my best," replied Adrienne, with a smile; then she
+added, shivering in spite of herself: "How dreadfully cold it is! I must
+confess, my dear Dr. Baleinier, that when I have been to fetch my poor
+little relations from the house of our workman's mother, I shall be
+truly glad to find myself once more in the warmth and light of my own
+cheerful rooms, for you know my aversion to cold and darkness."
+
+"It is quite natural," said the doctor, gallantly; "the most charming
+flowers require the most light and heat."
+
+Whilst the doctor and Mdlle. de Cardoville exchanged these few words,
+a heavy gate had turned creaking upon its hinges, and the carriage had
+entered a court-yard. The physician got down first, to offer his arm to
+Adrienne.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. THE MINISTER'S CABINET.
+
+The carriage had stopped before some steps covered with snow, which led
+to a vestibule lighted by a lamp. The better to ascend the steps, which
+were somewhat slippery, Adrienne leaned upon the doctor's arm.
+
+"Dear me! how you tremble," said he.
+
+"Yes," replied she, shuddering, "I feel deadly cold. In my haste, I
+came out without a shawl. But how gloomy this house appears," she added,
+pointing to the entrance.
+
+"It is what you call the minister's private house, the sanctum
+sanctorum, whither our statesman retires far from the sound of the
+profane," said Dr. Baleinier, with a smile. "Pray come in!" and he
+pushed open the door of a large hall, completely empty.
+
+"They are right in saying," resumed Dr. Baleinier, who covered his
+secret agitation with an appearance of gayety, "that a minister's house
+is like nobody else's. Not a footman--not a page, I should say--to be
+found in the antechamber. Luckily," added he, opening the door of a room
+which communicated with the vestibule,
+
+"'In this seraglio reared, I know the secret ways.'"
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was now introduced into an apartment hung with
+green embossed paper, and very simply furnished with mahogany chairs,
+covered with yellow velvet; the floor was carefully polished, and
+a globe lamp, which gave at most a third of its proper light, was
+suspended (at a much greater height than usual) from the ceiling.
+Finding the appearance of this habitation singularly plain for the
+dwelling of a minister, Adrienne, though she had no suspicion, could not
+suppress a movement of surprise and paused a moment on the threshold of
+the door. M. Baleinier, by whose arm she held, guessed the cause of her
+astonishment, and said to her with a smile:
+
+"This place appears to you very paltry for 'his excellency,' does it
+not? If you knew what a thing constitutional economy is!--Moreover,
+you will see a 'my lord,' who has almost as little pretension as his
+furniture. But please to wait for me an instant. I will go and inform
+the minister you are here, and return immediately."
+
+Gently disengaging himself from the grasp of Adrienne, who had
+involuntarily pressed close to him, the physician opened a small side
+door, by which he instantly disappeared. Adrienne de Cardoville was left
+alone.
+
+Though she could not have explained the cause of her impression, there
+was something awe-inspiring to the young lady in this large, cold,
+naked, curtainless room; and as, by degrees, she noticed certain
+peculiarities in the furniture, which she had not at first perceived,
+she was seized with an indefinable feeling of uneasiness.
+
+Approaching the cheerless hearth, she perceived with surprise that an
+iron grating completely enclosed the opening of the chimney, and that
+the tongs and shovel were fastened with iron chains. Already astonished
+by this singularity, she was about mechanically to draw towards her
+an armchair placed against the wall, when she found that it remained
+motionless. She then discovered that the back of this piece of
+furniture, as well as that of all the other chairs, was fastened to the
+wainscoting by iron clamps. Unable to repress a smile, she exclaimed:
+"Have they so little confidence in the statesman in whose house I am,
+that they are obliged to fasten the furniture to the walls?"
+
+Adrienne had recourse to this somewhat forced pleasantry as a kind of
+effort to resist the painful feeling of apprehension that was gradually
+creeping over her; for the most profound and mournful silence reigned in
+this habitation, where nothing indicated the life, the movement and the
+activity, which usually surround a great centre of business. Only,
+from time to time, the young lady heard the violent gusts of wind from
+without.
+
+More than a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and M. Baleinier did not
+return. In her impatient anxiety, Adrienne wished to call some one to
+inquire about the doctor and the minister. She raised her eyes to look
+for a bell-rope by the side of the chimney-glass; she found none, but
+she perceived, that what she had hitherto taken for a glass, thanks to
+the half obscurity of the room, was in reality a large sheet of
+shining tin. Drawing nearer to it, she accidentally touched a bronzed
+candlestick; and this, as well as a clock, was fixed to the marble of
+the chimney-piece.
+
+In certain dispositions of mind, the most insignificant circumstances
+often assume terrific proportions. This immovable candlestick, this
+furniture fastened to the wainscot, this glass replaced by a tin sheet,
+this profound silence, and the prolonged absence of M. Baleinier, had
+such an effect upon Adrienne, that she was struck with a vague terror.
+Yet such was her implicit confidence in the doctor, that she reproached
+herself with her own fears, persuading herself that the causes of them
+were after all of no real importance, and that it was unreasonable to
+feel uneasy at such trifles.
+
+Still, though she thus strove to regain courage, her anxiety induced her
+to do what otherwise she would never have attempted. She approached the
+little door by which the doctor had disappeared, and applied her ear to
+it. She held her breath, and listened, but heard nothing.
+
+Suddenly, a dull, heavy sound, like that of a falling body, was audible
+just above her head; she thought she could even distinguish a stifled
+moaning. Raising her eyes, hastily, she saw some particles of the
+plaster fall from the ceiling, loosened, no doubt, by the shaking of the
+floor above.
+
+No longer able to resist the feeling of terror, Adrienne ran to the door
+by which she had entered with the doctor, in order to call some one. To
+her great surprise, she found it was fastened on the outside. Yet, since
+her arrival, she had heard no sound of a key turning in the lock.
+
+More and more alarmed, the young girl flew to the little door by which
+the physician had disappeared, and at which she had just been listening.
+This door also was fastened on the outside.
+
+Still, wishing to struggle with the terror which was gaining invincibly
+upon her, Adrienne called to her aid all the firmness of her character,
+and tried to argue away her fears.
+
+"I must have been deceived." she said; "it was only a fall that I heard.
+The moaning had no existence, except in my imagination. There are a
+thousand reasons for believing that it was not a person who fell down.
+But, then, these locked doors? They, perhaps, do not know that I am
+here; they may have thought that there was nobody in this room."
+
+As she uttered these words, Adrienne looked round with anxiety; then
+she added, in a firm voice: "No weakness! it is useless to try to blind
+myself to my real situation. On the contrary, I must look it well in the
+face. It is evident that I am not here at a minister's house; no end of
+reasons prove it beyond a doubt; M. Baleinier has therefore deceived me.
+But for what end? Why has he brought me hither? Where am I?"
+
+The last two questions appeared to Adrienne both equally insoluble. It
+only remained clear, that she was the victim of M. Baleinier's perfidy.
+But this certainly seemed so horrible to the young girl's truthful
+and generous soul, that she still tried to combat the idea by the
+recollection of the confiding friendship which she had always shown this
+man. She said to herself with bitterness: "See how weakness and fear
+may lead one to unjust and odious suspicions! Yes; for until the
+last extremity, it is not justifiable to believe in so infernal a
+deception--and then only upon the clearest evidence. I will call some
+one: it is the only way of completely satisfying these doubts." Then,
+remembering that there was no bell, she added: "No matter; I will knock,
+and some one will doubtless answer." With her little, delicate hand,
+Adrienne struck the door several times.
+
+The dull, heavy sound which came from the door showed that it was very
+thick. No answer was returned to the young girl. She ran to the other
+door. There was the same appeal on her part, the same profound silence
+without--only interrupted from time to time by the howling of the wind.
+
+"I am not more timid than other people," said Adrienne, shuddering;
+"I do not know if it is the excessive cold, but I tremble in spite of
+myself. I endeavor to guard against all weakness; yet I think that any
+one in my position would find all this very strange and frightful."
+
+At this instant, loud cries, or rather savage and dreadful howls, burst
+furiously from the room just above, and soon after a sort of stamping
+of feet, like the noise of a violent struggle, shook the ceiling of the
+apartment. Struck with consternation, Adrienne uttered a loud cry of
+terror became deadly pale, stood for a moment motionless with affright,
+and then rushed to one of the windows, and abruptly threw it open.
+
+A violent gust of wind, mixed with melted snow, beat against Adrienne's
+face, swept roughly into the room, and soon extinguished the flickering
+and smoky light of the lamp. Thus, plunged in profound darkness, with
+her hands clinging to the bars that were placed across the window,
+Mdlle. de Cardoville yielded at length to the full influence of her
+fears, so long restrained, and was about to call aloud for help, when an
+unexpected apparition rendered her for some minutes absolutely mute with
+terror.
+
+Another wing of the building, opposite to that in which she was, stood
+at no great distance. Through the midst of the black darkness, which
+filled the space between, one large, lighted window was distinctly
+visible. Through the curtainless panes, Adrienne perceived a white
+figure, gaunt and ghastly, dragging after it a sort of shroud, and
+passing and repassing continually before the window, with an abrupt and
+restless motion. Her eyes fixed upon this window, shining through the
+darkness, Adrienne remained as if fascinated by that fatal vision: and,
+as the spectacle filled up the measure of her fears, she called for help
+with all her might, without quitting the bars of the window to which
+she clung. After a few seconds, whilst she was thus crying out, two tall
+women entered the room in silence, unperceived by Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+who was still clinging to the window.
+
+These women, of about forty to fifty years of age, robust and masculine,
+were negligently and shabbily dressed, like chambermaids of the lower
+sort; over their clothes they wore large aprons of blue cotton, cut
+sloping from their necks, and reaching down to their feet. One of them,
+who held a lamp in her hand, had a broad, red, shining face, a large
+pimpled nose, small green eyes, and tow hair, which straggled rough and
+shaggy from beneath her dirty white cap. The other, sallow, withered,
+and bony, wore a mourning-cap over a parchment visage, pitted with
+the small-pox, and rendered still more repulsive by the thick black
+eyebrows, and some long gray hairs that overshadowed the upper lip. This
+woman carried, half unfolded in her hand, a garment of strange form,
+made of thick gray stuff.
+
+They both entered silently by the little door, at the moment when
+Adrienne, in the excess of her terror, was grasping the bars of the
+window, and crying out: "Help! help!"
+
+Pointing out the young lady to each other, one of them went to place the
+lamp on the chimney-piece, whilst the other (she who wore the mourning
+cap) approached the window, and laid her great bony hand upon Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's shoulder.
+
+Turning round, Adrienne uttered a new cry of terror at the sight of this
+grim figure. Then, the first moment of stupor over, she began to feel
+less afraid; hideous as was this woman, it was at least some one to
+speak to; she exclaimed, therefore, in an agitated voice: "Where is M.
+Baleinier?"
+
+The two women looked at each other, exchanged a leer of mutual
+intelligence, but did not answer.
+
+"I ask you, madame," resumed Adrienne, "where is M. Baleinier, who
+brought me hither? I wish to see him instantly."
+
+"He is gone," said the big woman.
+
+"Gone!" cried Adrienne; "gone without me!--Gracious heaven! what can
+be the meaning of all this?" Then, after a moment's reflection, she
+resumed, "Please to fetch me a coach."
+
+The two women looked at each other, and shrugged their shoulders. "I
+entreat you, madame," continued Adrienne, with forced calmness in her
+voice, "to fetch me a coach since M. Baleinier is gone without me. I
+wish to leave this place."
+
+"Come, come, madame," said the tall woman, who was called "Tomboy,"
+without appearing to listen to what Adrienne asked, "it is time for you
+to go to bed."
+
+"To go to bed!" cried Mdlle. Cardoville, in alarm. "This is really
+enough to drive one mad." Then, addressing the two women, she added:
+"What is this house? where am I? answer!"
+
+"You are in a house," said Tomboy, in a rough voice, "where you must not
+make a row from the window, as you did just now."
+
+"And where you must not put out the lamp as you have done," added the
+other woman, who was called Gervaise, "or else we shall have a crow to
+pick with you."
+
+Adrienne, unable to utter a word, and trembling with fear, looked in a
+kind of stupor from one to the other of these horrible women; her reason
+strove in vain to comprehend what was passing around her. Suddenly she
+thought she had guessed it, and exclaimed: "I see there is a mistake
+here. I do not understand how, but there is a mistake. You take me for
+some one else. Do you know who I am? My name is Adrienne de Cardoville
+You see, therefore, that I am at liberty to leave this house; no one in
+the world has the right to detain me. I command you, then, to fetch me
+a coach immediately. If there are none in this quarter, let me have some
+one to accompany me home to the Rue de Babylone, Saint-Dizier House. I
+will reward such a person liberally, and you also."
+
+"Well, have you finished?" said Tomboy. "What is the use of telling us
+all this rubbish?"
+
+"Take care," resumed Adrienne, who wished to try every means; "if you
+detain me here by force, it will be very serious. You do not know to
+what you expose yourselves."
+
+"Will you come to bed; yes or no?" said Gervaise, in a tone of harsh
+impatience.
+
+"Listen to me, madame," resumed Adrienne, precipitately, "let me out
+this place, and I will give each of you two thousand francs. It is not
+enough? I will give you ten--twenty--whatever you ask. I am rich--only
+let me out for heaven's sake, let me out!--I cannot remain here--I
+am afraid." As she said this, the tone of the poor girl's voice was
+heartrending.
+
+"Twenty thousand francs!--that's the usual figure, ain't it, Tomboy?"
+
+"Let be, Gervaise! they all sing the same song."
+
+"Well, then? since reasons, prayers, and menaces are all in vain," said
+Adrienne gathering energy from her desperate position, "I declare to
+you that I will go out and that instantly. We will see if you are bold
+enough to employ force against me."
+
+So saying, Adrienne advanced resolutely towards the door. But, at this
+moment, the wild hoarse cries, which had preceded the noise of the
+struggle that had so frightened her, again resounded; only, this time
+they were not accompanied by the movement of feet.
+
+"Oh! what screams!" said Adrienne, stopping short, and in her terror
+drawing nigh to the two women. "Do you not hear those cries? What, then,
+is this house, in which one hears such things? And over there, too,"
+added she almost beside herself, as she pointed to the other wing where
+the lighted windows shone through the darkness, and the white figure
+continued to pass and repass before it; "over there! do you see? What is
+it?"
+
+"Oh! that 'un," said Tomboy; "one of the folks who, like you, have not
+behaved well."
+
+"What do you say?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, clasping her hands in
+terror. "Heavens! what is this house? What do they do to them?"
+
+"What will be done to you, if you are naughty, and refuse to come to
+bed," answered Gervaise.
+
+"They put this on them," said Tomboy, showing the garment that she had
+held under her arm, "they clap 'em into the strait-waistcoast."
+
+"Oh!" cried Adrienne, hiding her face in her hands with horror. A
+terrible discovery had flashed suddenly upon her. She understood it all.
+
+Capping the violent emotions of the day, the effect of this last blow
+was dreadful. The young girl felt her strength give way. Her hands fell
+powerless, her face became fearfully pale, all her limbs trembled, and
+sinking upon her knees, and casting a terrified glance at the strait
+waistcoat she was just able to falter in a feeble voice, "Oh, no:--not
+that--for pity's sake, madame. I will do--whatever you wish." And, her
+strength quite failing, she would have fallen upon the ground if the
+two women had not run towards her, and received her fainting into their
+arms.
+
+"A fainting fit," said Tomboy; "that's not dangerous. Let us carry her
+to bed. We can undress her, and this will be all nothing."
+
+"Carry her, then," said Gervaise. "I will take the lamp."
+
+The tall and robust Tomboy took up Mdlle. de Cardoville as if she
+had been a sleeping child, carried her in her arms, and followed her
+companion into the chamber through which M. Baleinier had made his exit.
+
+This chamber, though perfectly clean, was cold and bare. A greenish
+paper covered the walls, and a low, little iron bedstead, the head of
+which formed a kind of shelf, stood in one corner; a stove, fixed in the
+chimney-place, was surrounded by an iron grating, which forbade a near
+approach; a table fastened to the wall, a chair placed before this
+table, and also clamped to the floor, a mahogany chest of drawers, and
+a rush bottomed armchair completed the scanty furniture. The curtainless
+window was furnished on the inside with an iron grating, which served to
+protect the panes from being broken.
+
+It was into this gloomy retreat, which formed so painful a contrast with
+the charming little summer-house in the Rue de Babylone, that Adrienne
+was carried by Tomboy, who, with the assistance of Gervaise, placed the
+inanimate form on the bed. The lamp was deposited on the shelf at the
+head of the couch. Whilst one of the nurses held her up, the other
+unfastened and took off the cloth dress of the young girl, whose head
+drooped languidly on her bosom. Though in a swoon, large tears trickled
+slowly from her closed eyes, whose long black lashes threw their shadows
+on the transparent whiteness of her cheeks. Over her neck and breast of
+ivory flowed the golden waves of her magnificent hair, which had come
+down at the time of her fall. When, as they unlaced her satin corset,
+less soft, less fresh, less white than the virgin form beneath, which
+lay like a statue of alabaster in its covering of lace and lawn, one of
+the horrible hags felt the arms and shoulders of the young girl with
+her large, red, horny, and chapped hands. Though she did not completely
+recover the use of her senses, she started involuntarily from the rude
+and brutal touch.
+
+"Hasn't she little feet?" said the nurse, who, kneeling down, was
+employed in drawing off Adrienne's stockings. "I could hold them both
+in the hollow of my hand." In fact, a small, rosy foot, smooth as a
+child's, here and there veined with azure, was soon exposed to view, as
+was also a leg with pink knee and ankle, of as pure and exquisite a form
+as that of Diana Huntress.
+
+"And what hair!" said Tomboy; "so long and soft!--She might almost walk
+upon it. 'Twould be a pity to cut it off, to put ice upon her skull!" As
+she spoke, she gathered up Adrienne's magnificent hair, and twisted it
+as well as she could behind her head. Alas! it was no longer the fair,
+light hand of Georgette, Florine, or Hebe that arranged the beauteous
+locks of their mistress with so much love and pride!
+
+And as she again felt the rude touch of the nurse's hand, the young
+girl was once more seized with the same nervous trembling, only more
+frequently and strongly than before. And soon, whether by a sort of
+instinctive repulsion, magnetically excited during her swoon, or from
+the effect of the cold night air, Adrienne again started and slowly came
+to herself.
+
+It is impossible to describe her alarm, horror, and chaste indignation,
+as, thrusting aside with both her hands the numerous curls that covered
+her face, bathed in tears, she saw herself half-naked between these
+filthy hags. At first, she uttered a cry of shame and terror; then to
+escape from the looks of the women, by a movement, rapid as thought, she
+drew down the lamp placed on the shelf at the head of her bed, so that
+it was extinguished and broken to pieces on the floor. After which, in
+the midst of the darkness, the unfortunate girl, covering herself with
+the bed-clothes, burst into passionate sobs.
+
+The nurses attributed Adrienne's cry and violent actions to a fit of
+furious madness. "Oh! you begin again to break the lamps--that's your
+partickler fancy, is it?" cried Tomboy, angrily, as she felt her way
+in the dark. "Well! I gave you fair warning. You shall have the strait
+waistcoat on this very night, like the mad gal upstairs."
+
+"That's it," said the other; "hold her fast, Tommy, while I go and fetch
+a light. Between us, we'll soon master her."
+
+"Make haste, for, in spite of her soft look, she must be a regular fury.
+We shall have to sit up all night with her, I suppose."
+
+Sad and painful contrast! That morning, Adrienne had risen free,
+smiling, happy, in the midst of all the wonders of luxury and art, and
+surrounded by the delicate attentions of the three charming girls whom
+she had chosen to serve her. In her generous and fantastic mood, she
+had prepared a magnificent and fairy-like surprise for the young Indian
+prince, her relation; she had also taken a noble resolution with regard
+to the two orphans brought home by Dagobert; in her interview with Mme.
+de Saint-Dizier, she had shown herself by turns proud and sensitive,
+melancholy and gay, ironical and serious, loyal and courageous; finally,
+she had come to this accursed house to plead in favor of an honest and
+laborious artisan.
+
+And now, in the evening delivered over by an atrocious piece of
+treachery to the ignoble hands of two coarse-minded muses in a
+madhouse--Mdlle. de Cardoville felt her delicate limbs imprisoned in
+that abominable garment, which is called a strait-waistcoat.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville passed a horrible night in company with the two
+hags. The next morning, at nine o'clock, what was the young lady's
+stupor to see Dr. Baleinier enter the room, still smiling with an air at
+once benevolent and paternal.
+
+"Well, my dear child?" said he, in a bland, affectionate voice; "how
+have we spent the night?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE VISIT.
+
+The keepers, yielding to Mdlle. de Cardoville's prayers, and, above all,
+to her promises of good behavior, had only left on the canvas jacket a
+portion of the time. Towards morning, they had allowed her to rise and
+dress herself, without interfering.
+
+Adrienne was seated on the edge of her bed. The alteration in her
+features, her dreadful paleness, the lurid fire of fever shining in
+her eyes, the convulsive trembling which ever and anon shook her
+frame, showed already the fatal effects of this terrible night upon a
+susceptible and high-strung organization. At sight of Dr. Baleinier,
+who, with a sign, made Gervaise and her mate leave the room, Adrienne
+remained petrified.
+
+She felt a kind of giddiness at the thought of the audacity of the man,
+who dared to present himself to her! But when the physician repeated,
+in the softest tone of affectionate interest: "Well, my poor child! how
+have we spent the night?" she pressed her hands to her burning forehead,
+as if in doubt whether she was awake or sleeping. Then, staring at the
+doctor, she half opened her lips; but they trembled so much that it was
+impossible for her to utter a word. Anger, indignation, contempt, and,
+above all, the bitter and acutely painful feeling of a generous heart,
+whose confidence has been basely betrayed, so overpowered Adrienne that
+she was unable to break the silence.
+
+"Come, come! I see how it is," said the doctor, shaking his head
+sorrowfully; "you are very much displeased with me--is it not so? Well!
+I expected it, my dear child."
+
+These words, pronounced with the most hypocritical effrontery, made
+Adrienne start up. Her pale cheek flushed, her large eyes sparkled, she
+lifted proudly her beautiful head, whilst her upper lip curled slightly
+with a smile of disdainful bitterness; then, passing in angry silence
+before M. Baleinier, who retained his seat, she directed her swift and
+firm steps towards the door. This door, in which was a little wicket,
+was fastened on the outside. Adrienne turned towards the doctor, and
+said to him, with an imperious gesture; "Open that door for me!"
+
+"Come, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne," said the physician, "be calm. Let us
+talk like good friends--for you know I am your friend." And he inhaled
+slowly a pinch of snuff.
+
+"It appears, sir," said Adrienne, in a voice trembling with indignation,
+"I am not to leave this place to-day?"
+
+"Alas! no. In such a state of excitement--if you knew how inflamed your
+face is, and your eyes so feverish, your pulse must be at least eighty
+to the minute--I conjure you, my dear child, not to aggravate your
+symptoms by this fatal agitation."
+
+After looking fixedly at the doctor, Adrienne returned with a slow step,
+and again took her seat on the edge of the bed. "That is right," resumed
+M. Baleinier: "only be reasonable; and, as I said before, let us talk
+together like good friends."
+
+"You say well, sir," replied Adrienne, in a collected and perfectly calm
+voice; "let us talk like friends. You wish to make me pass for mad--is
+it not so?"
+
+"I wish, my dear child, that one day you may feel towards me as much
+gratitude as you now do aversion. The latter I had fully foreseen--but,
+however painful may be the performance of certain duties, we must resign
+ourselves to it."
+
+M. Baleinier sighed, as he said this, with such a natural air of
+conviction, that for a moment Adrienne could not repress a movement of
+surprise; then, while her lip curled with a bitter laugh, she answered:
+"Oh, it's very clear, you have done all this for my good?"
+
+"Really, my dear young lady--have I ever had any other design than to be
+useful to you?"
+
+"I do not know, sir, if your impudence be not still more odious than
+your cowardly treachery!"
+
+"Treachery!" said M. Baleinier, shrugging his shoulders with a grieved
+air; "treachery, indeed! Only reflect, my poor child--do you think, if
+I were not acting with good faith, conscientiously, in your interest,
+I should return this morning to meet your indignation, for which I was
+fully prepared? I am the head physician of this asylum, which belongs
+to me--but I have two of my pupils here, doctors, like myself--and might
+have left them to take care of you but, no--I could not consent to it--I
+knew your character, your nature, your previous history, and (leaving
+out of the question the interest I feel for you) I can treat your case
+better than any one."
+
+Adrienne had heard M. Baleinier without interrupting him; she now looked
+at him fixedly, and said: "Pray, sir, how much do they pay you to make
+me pass for mad?"
+
+"Madame!" cried M. Baleinier, who felt stung in spite of, himself.
+
+"You know I am rich," continued Adrienne, with overwhelming disdain;
+"I will double the sum that they give you. Come, sir--in the name of
+friendship, as you call it, let me have the pleasure of outbidding
+them."
+
+"Your keepers," said M. Baleinier, recovering all his coolness, "have
+informed me, in their report of the night's proceedings, that you made
+similar propositions to them."
+
+"Pardon me, sir; I offered them what might be acceptable to poor women,
+without education, whom misfortune has forced to undertake a painful
+employment--but to you, sir a man of the world, a man of science, a man
+of great abilities--that is quite different--the pay must be a great
+deal higher. There is treachery at all prices; so do not found your
+refusal on the smallness of my offer to those wretched women. Tell
+me--how much do you want?"
+
+"Your keepers, in their report of the night, have also spoken of
+threats," resumed M. Baleinier, with the same coolness; "have you any
+of those likewise to address me? Believe me, my poor child, you will
+do well to exhaust at once your attempts at corruption, and your vain
+threats of vengeance. We shall then come to the true state of the case."
+
+"So you deem my threats vain!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, at length
+giving way to the full tide of her indignation, till then restrained.
+"Do you think, sir, that when I leave this place--for this outrage must
+have an end--that I will not proclaim aloud your infamous treachery? Do
+you think chat I will not denounce to the contempt and horror of all,
+your base conspiracy with Madame de Saint-Dizier? Oh! do you think that
+I will conceal the frightful treatment I have received! But, mad as
+I may be, I know that there are laws in this country, by which I
+will demand a full reparation for myself, and shame, disgrace, and
+punishment, for you, and for those who have employed you! Henceforth,
+between you and me will be hate and war to the death; and all my
+strength, all my intelligence--"
+
+"Permit me to interrupt you, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne," said the doctor,
+still perfectly calm and affectionate: "nothing can be more unfavorable
+to your cure, than to cherish idle hopes: they will only tend to keep
+up a state of deplorable excitement: it is best to put the facts fairly
+before you, that you may understand clearly your position.
+
+"1. It is impossible for you to leave this house. 2. You can have no
+communication with any one beyond its walls. 3. No one enters here that
+I cannot perfectly depend upon. 4. I am completely indifferent to your
+threats of vengeance because law and reason are both in my favor."
+
+"What! have you the right to shut me up here?"
+
+"We should never have come to that determination, without a number of
+reasons of the most serious kind."
+
+"Oh! there are reasons for it, it seems."
+
+"Unfortunately, too many."
+
+"You will perhaps inform me of them?"
+
+"Alas! they are only too conclusive; and if you should ever apply to
+the protection of the laws, as you threatened me just now, we should be
+obliged to state them. The fantastical eccentricity of your manner of
+living, your whimsical mode of dressing up your maids, your extravagant
+expenditure, the story of the Indian prince, to whom you offered a royal
+hospitality, your unprecedented resolution of going to live by yourself,
+like a young bachelor, the adventure of the man found concealed in your
+bed-chamber; finally, the report of your yesterday's conversation, which
+was faithfully taken down in shorthand, by a person employed for that
+purpose."
+
+"Yesterday?" cried Adrienne, with as much indignation as surprise.
+
+"Oh, yes! to be prepared for every event, in case you should
+misinterpret the interest we take in you, we had all your answers
+reported by a man who was concealed behind a curtain in the next room;
+and really, one day, in a calmer state of mind, when you come to read
+over quietly the particulars of what took place, you will no longer be
+astonished at the resolution we have been forced to adopt."
+
+"Go on, sir," said Adrienne, with contempt.
+
+"The facts I have cited being thus confirmed and acknowledged, you will
+understand, my dear Mdlle. Adrienne, that your friends are perfectly
+free from responsibility. It was their duty to endeavor to cure this
+derangement of mind, which at present only shows itself in idle whims,
+but which, were it to increase, might seriously compromise the happiness
+of your future life. Now, in my opinion, we may hope to see a radical
+cure, by means of a treatment at once physical and moral; but the first
+condition of this attempt was to remove you from the scenes which so
+dangerously excited your imagination; whilst a calm retreat, the repose
+of a simple and solitary life combined with my anxious, I may say,
+paternal care, will gradually bring about a complete recovery--"
+
+"So, sir," said Adrienne, with a bitter laugh, "the love of a noble
+independence, generosity, the worship of the beautiful, detestation of
+what is base and odious, such are the maladies of which you wish to cure
+me; I fear that my case is desperate, for my aunt has long ago tried to
+effect that benevolent purpose."
+
+"Well, we may perhaps not succeed; but at least we will attempt it. You
+see, then, there is a mass of serious facts, quite enough to justify the
+determination come to by the family-council, which puts me completely at
+my ease with regard to your menaces. It is to that I wish to return; a
+man of my age and condition never acts lightly--in such circumstances,
+and you can readily understand what I was saying to you just now. In a
+word, do not hope to leave this place before your complete recovery,
+and rest assured, that I am and shall ever be safe from your resentment.
+This being once admitted, let us talk of your actual state with all the
+interest that you naturally inspire."
+
+"I think, sir, that, considering I am mad, you speak to me very
+reasonably."
+
+"Mad! no, thank heaven, my poor child, you are not mad yet--and I hope
+that, by my care, you will never be so. It is to prevent your becoming
+mad, that one must take it in time; and believe me, it is full time. You
+look at me with such an air of surprise--now tell me, what interest can
+I have in talking to you thus? Is it the hatred of your aunt that I wish
+to favor? To what end, I would ask? What can she do for me or against
+me? I think of her at this moment neither more nor less than I thought
+yesterday. Is it a new language that I hold to yourself? Did I not speak
+to you yesterday many times, of the dangerous excitement of mind in
+which you were, and of your singular whims and fancies? It is true,
+I made use of stratagem to bring you hither. No doubt, I did so. I
+hastened to avail myself of the opportunity, which you yourself offered,
+my poor, dear child; for you would never have come hither with your own
+good will. One day or the other, we must have found some pretext to get
+you here: and I said to myself; 'Her interest before all! Do your duty,
+let whatever will betide!'--"
+
+Whilst M. Baleinier was speaking, Adrienne's countenance, which had
+hitherto expressed alternately indignation and disdain, assumed an
+indefinable look of anguish and horror. On hearing this man talk in such
+a natural manner, and with such an appearance of sincerity, justice and
+reason, she felt herself more alarmed than ever. An atrocious deception,
+clothed in such forms, frightened her a hundred times more than the
+avowed hatred of Madame de Saint-Dizier. This audacious hypocrisy seemed
+to her so monstrous, that she believed it almost impossible.
+
+Adrienne had so little the art of hiding her emotions, that the
+doctor, a skillful and profound physiognomist, instantly perceived the
+impression he had produced. "Come," said he to himself, "that is a great
+step. Fright has succeeded to disdain and anger. Doubt will come next.
+I shall not leave this place, till she has said to me: 'Return soon, my
+good M. Baleinier!'" With a voice of sorrowful emotion, which seemed to
+come from the very depths of his heart, the doctor thus continued: "I
+see, you are still suspicious of me. All I can say to you is falsehood,
+fraud, hypocrisy, hate--is it not so?--Hate you? why, in heaven's name,
+should I hate you? What have you done to me? or rather--you will perhaps
+attach more value to this reason from a man of my sort," added M.
+Baleinier, bitterly, "or rather, what interest have I to hate you?--You,
+that have only been reduced to the state in which you are by an over
+abundance of the most generous instincts--you, that are suffering, as
+it were, from an excess of good qualities--you can bring yourself coolly
+and deliberately to accuse an honest man, who has never given you any
+but marks of affection, of the basest, the blackest, the most abominable
+crime, of which a human being could be guilty. Yes, I call it a crime;
+because the audacious deception of which you accuse me would not deserve
+any other name. Really, my poor child, it is hard--very hard--and I now
+see, that an independent spirit may sometimes exhibit as much injustice
+and intolerance as the most narrow mind. It does not incense me--no--it
+only pains me: yes, I assure you--it pains me cruelly." And the doctor
+drew his hand across his moist eyes.
+
+It is impossible to give the accent, the look, the gesture of M.
+Baleinier, as he thus expressed himself. The most able and practiced
+lawyer, or the greatest actor in the world, could not have played this
+scene with more effect than the doctor--or rather, no one could have
+played it so well--M. Baleinier, carried away by the influence of the
+situations, was himself half convinced of what he said.
+
+In few words, he felt all the horror of his own perfidy but he felt also
+that Adrienne could not believe it; for there are combinations of
+such nefarious character, that pure and upright minds are unable to
+comprehend them as possible. If a lofty spirit looks down into the abyss
+of evil, beyond a certain depth it is seized with giddiness, and no
+longer able to distinguish one object from the other.
+
+And then the most perverse of men have a day, an hour, a moment, in
+which the good instincts, planted in the heart of every creature, appear
+in spite of themselves. Adrienne was too interesting, was in too cruel a
+position, for the doctor mot to feel some pity for her in his heart; the
+tone of sympathy, which for some time past he had been obliged to assume
+towards her, and the sweet confidence of the young girl in return, had
+become for this man habitual and necessary ratifications. But sympathy
+and habit were now to yield to implacable necessity.
+
+Thus the Marquis d'Aigrigny had idolized his mother; dying, she called
+him to her--and he turned away from the last prayer of a parent in the
+agony of death. After such an example, how could M. Baleinier hesitate
+to sacrifice Adrienne? The members of the Order, of which he formed a
+part, were bound to him--but he was perhaps still more strongly bound to
+them, for a long partnership in evil creates terrible and indissoluble
+ties.
+
+The moment M. Baleinier finished his fervid address to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, the slide of the wicket in the door was softly pushed back,
+and a pair of eyes peered attentively into the chamber, unperceived by
+the doctor.
+
+Adrienne could not withdraw her gaze from the physician's, which seemed
+to fascinate her. Mute, overpowered, seized with a vague terror, unable
+to penetrate the dark depths of this man's soul, moved in spite of
+herself by the accent of sorrow, half feigned and half real--the young
+lady had a momentary feeling of doubt. For the first time, it came into
+her mind, that M. Baleinier might perhaps be committing a frightful
+error--committing it in good faith.
+
+Besides, the anguish of the past night, the dangers of her position,
+her feverish agitation, all concurred to fill her mind with trouble and
+indecision. She looked at the physician with ever increasing surprise,
+and making a violent effort not to yield to a weakness, of which she
+partly foresaw the dreadful consequences, she exclaimed: "No, no, sir;
+I will not, I cannot believe it. You have too much skill, too much
+experience, to commit such an error."
+
+"An error!" said M. Baleinier, in a grave and sorrowful tone. "Let me
+speak to you in the name of that skill and experience, which you are
+pleased to ascribe to me. Hear me but for a moment, my dear child; and
+then I will appeal to yourself."
+
+"To me!" replied the young girl, in a kind of stupor; "you wish to
+persuade me, that--" Then, interrupting herself, she added, with a
+convulsive laugh: "This only is wanting to your triumph--to bring me to
+confess that I am mad--that my proper place is here--that I owe you--"
+
+"Gratitude. Yes, you do owe it me, even as I told you at the
+commencement of this conversation. Listen to me then; my words may be
+cruel, but there are wounds which can only be cured with steel and fire.
+I conjure you, my dear child--reflect--throw back one impartial glance
+at your past life--weigh your own thoughts--and you will be afraid of
+yourself. Remember those moments of strange excitement, during which,
+as you have told me, you seemed to soar above the earth--and, above all,
+while it is yet time--while you preserve enough clearness of mind to
+compare and judge--compare, I entreat, your manner of living with that
+of other ladies of your age? Is there a single one who acts as you
+act? who thinks as you think? unless, indeed, you imagine yourself so
+superior to other women, that, in virtue of that supremacy, you can
+justify a life and habits that have no parallel in the world."
+
+"I have never had such stupid pride, you know it well," said Adrienne,
+looking at the doctor with growing terror.
+
+"Then, my dear child, to what are we to attribute your strange and
+inexplicable mode of life? Can you even persuade yourself that it is
+founded on reason? Oh, my child! take care?--As yet, you only indulge
+in charming originalities of conduct, poetical eccentricities, sweet
+and vague reveries--but the tendency is fatal, the downward course
+irresistible. Take care, take care!--the healthful, graceful, spiritual
+portion of your intelligence has yet the upper hand, and imprints its
+stamp upon all your extravagances; but you do not know, believe me, with
+what frightful force the insane portion of the mind, at a given moment,
+develops itself and strangles up the rest. Then we have no longer
+graceful eccentricities, like yours, but ridiculous, sordid, hideous
+delusions."
+
+"Oh! you frighten me," said the unfortunate girl, as she passed her
+trembling hands across her burning brow.
+
+"Then," continued M. Baleinier, in an agitated voice, "then the last
+rays of intelligence are extinguished; then madness--for we must
+pronounce the dreaded word--gets the upper hand, and displays itself in
+furious and savage transports."
+
+"Like the woman upstairs," murmured Adrienne, as, with fixed and eager
+look, she raised her finger towards the ceiling.
+
+"Sometimes," continued the doctor, alarmed himself at the terrible
+consequences of his own words, but yielding to the inexorable fatality
+of his situation, "sometimes madness takes a stupid and brutal form; the
+unfortunate creature, who is attacked by it, preserves nothing human
+but the shape--has only the instincts of the lower animals--eats with
+voracity, and moves ever backwards and forwards in the cell, in which
+such a being is obliged to be confined. That is all its life--all."
+
+"Like the woman yonder." cried Adrienne, with a still wilder look, as
+she slowly raised her arm towards the window that was visible on the
+other side of the building.
+
+"Why--yes," said M. Baleinier. "Like you, unhappy child, those women
+were young, fair, and sensible, but like you, alas! they had in them the
+fatal germ of insanity, which, not having been destroyed in time, grew,
+and grew, larger and ever larger, until it overspread and destroyed
+their reason."
+
+"Oh, mercy!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose head was getting confused
+with terror; "mercy! do not tell me such things!--I am afraid. Take
+me from this place--oh! take me from this place!" she added, with a
+heartrending accent; "for, if I remain here, I shall end by going mad!
+No," added she, struggling with the terrible agony which assailed her,
+"no, do not hope it! I shall not become mad. I have all my reason. I
+am not blind enough to believe what you tell me. Doubtless, I live
+differently from others; think differently from others; am shocked by
+things that do not offend others; but what does all this prove? Only
+that I am different from others. Have I a bad heart? Am I envious or
+selfish? My ideas are singular, I knew--yes, I confess it--but then,
+M. Baleinier, is not their tendency good, generous, noble!--Oh!" cried
+Adrienne's supplicating voice, while her tears flowed abundantly, "I
+have never in my life done one malicious action; my worst errors have
+arisen from excess of generosity. Is it madness to wish to see everybody
+about one too happy? And again, if you are mad, you must feel it
+yourself--and I do not feel it--and yet--I scarcely know--you tell me
+such terrible things of those two women! You ought to know these things
+better than I. But then," added Mdlle, de Cardoville, with an accent
+of the deepest despair, "something ought to have been done. Why, if you
+felt an interest for me, did you wait so long? Why did you not take pity
+on me sooner? But the most frightful fact is, that I do not know whether
+I ought to believe you--for all this may be a snare--but no, no!
+you weep--it is true, then!--you weep!" She looked anxiously at M.
+Baleinier, who, notwithstanding his cynical philosophy, could not
+restrain his tears at the sight of these nameless tortures.
+
+"You weep over me," she continued; "so it is true! But (good heaven!)
+must there not be something done? I will do all that you wish--all--so
+that I may not be like those women. But if it should be too late? no, it
+is not too late--say it is not too late, my good M. Baleinier! Oh, now
+I ask your pardon for what I said when you came in--but then I did not
+know, you see--I did not know!"
+
+To these few broken words, interrupted by sobs, and rushing forth in a
+sort of feverish excitement, succeeded a silence of some minutes, during
+which the deeply affected physician dried his tears. His resolution
+had almost failed him. Adrienne hid her face in her hands. Suddenly she
+again lifted her head; her countenance was calmer than before, though
+agitated by a nervous trembling.
+
+"M. Baleinier," she resumed, with touching dignity, "I hardly know what
+I said to you just now. Terror, I think, made me wander; I have again
+collected myself. Hear me! I know that I am in your power; I know that
+nothing can deliver me from it. Are you an implacable enemy? or are you
+a friend? I am not able to determine. Do you really apprehend, as
+you assure me, that what is now eccentricity will hereafter become
+madness--or are you rather the accomplice in some infernal machination?
+You alone can answer. In spite of my boasted courage, I confess myself
+conquered. Whatever is required of me--you understand, whatever it may
+be, I will subscribe to, I give you my word and you know that I hold it
+sacred--you have therefore no longer any interest to keep me here. If,
+on the contrary, you really think my reason in danger--and I own that
+you have awakened in my mind vague, but frightful doubts--tell it me,
+and I will believe you. I am alone, at your mercy, without friends,
+without counsel. I trust myself blindly to you. I know not whether I
+address myself to a deliverer or a destroyer--but I say to you--here is
+my happiness--here is my life--take it--I have no strength to dispute it
+with you!"
+
+These touching words, full of mournful resignation and almost hopeless
+reliance, gave the finishing stroke to the indecision of M. Baleinier.
+Already deeply moved by this scene, and without reflecting on the
+consequences of what he was about to do, he determined at all events
+to dissipate the terrible and unjust fears with which he had inspired
+Adrienne. Sentiments of remorse and pity, which now animated the
+physician, were visible in his countenance.
+
+Alas! they were too visible. The moment he approached to take the hand
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville, a low but sharp voice exclaimed from behind the
+wicket: "M. Baleinier!"
+
+"Rodin!" muttered the startled doctor to himself; "he's been spying on
+me!"
+
+"Who calls you?" asked the lady of the physician.
+
+"A person that I promised to meet here this morning." replied he, with
+the utmost depression, "to go with him to St. Mary's Convent, which is
+close at hand."
+
+"And what answer have you to give me?" said Adrienne with mortal
+anguish.
+
+After a moment's solemn silence, during which he turned his face towards
+the wicket, the doctor replied, in a voice of deep emotion: "I am--what
+I have always been--a friend incapable of deceiving you."
+
+Adrienne became deadly pale. Then, extending her hand to M. Baleinier,
+she said to him in a voice that she endeavored to render calm: "Thank
+you--I will have courage--but will it be very long?"
+
+"Perhaps a month. Solitude, reflection, a proper regimen, my attentive
+care, may do much. You will be allowed everything that is compatible
+with your situation. Every attention will be paid you. If this room
+displeases you, I will see you have another."
+
+"No--this or another--it is of little consequence," answered Adrienne,
+with an air of the deepest dejection.
+
+"Come, come! be of good courage. There is no reason to despair."
+
+"Perhaps you flatter me," said Adrienne with the shadow of a smile.
+"Return soon," she added, "my dear M. Baleinier! my only hope rests in
+you now."
+
+Her head fell upon her bosom, her hands upon her knees and she remained
+sitting on the edge of the bed, pale, motionless, overwhelmed with woe.
+
+"Mad!" she said when M. Baleinier had disappeared. "Perhaps mad!"
+
+We have enlarged upon this episode much less romantic than it may
+appear. Many times have motives of interest or vengeance or perfidious
+machination led to the abuse of the imprudent facility with which
+inmates are received in certain private lunatic asylums from the hands
+of their families or friends.
+
+We shall subsequently explain our views, as to the establishment of a
+system of inspection, by the crown or the civil magistrates, for
+the periodical survey of these institutions, and others of no less
+importance, at present placed beyond the reach of all superintendence.
+These latter are the nunneries of which we will presently have an
+example.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI. PRESENTIMENTS.
+
+Whilst the preceding events took place in Dr. Baleinier's asylum, other
+scenes were passing about the same hour, at Frances Baudoin's, in the
+Rue Brise-Miche.
+
+Seven o'clock in the morning had just struck at St. Mary church; the day
+was dark and gloomy, and the sleet rattled against the windows of the
+joyless chamber of Dagobert's wife.
+
+As yet ignorant of her son's arrest, Frances had waited for him the
+whole of the preceding evening, and a good part of the night, with the
+most anxious uneasiness; yielding at length to fatigue and sleep, about
+three o'clock in the morning, she had thrown herself on a mattress
+beside the bed of Rose and Blanche. But she rose with the first dawn
+of day, to ascend to Agricola's garret, in the very faint hope that he
+might have returned home some hours before.
+
+Rose and Blanche had just risen, and dressed themselves. They were alone
+in the sad, chilly apartment. Spoil-sport, whom Dagobert had left in
+Paris, was stretched at full length near the cold stove; with his long
+muzzle resting on his forepaws, he kept his eye fixed on the sisters.
+
+Having slept but little during the night, they had perceived the
+agitation and anguish of Dagobert's wife. They had seen her walk up and
+down, now talking to herself, now listening to the least noise that came
+up the staircase, and now kneeling before the crucifix placed at one
+extremity of the room. The orphans were not aware, that, whilst she
+brayed with fervor on behalf of her son, this excellent woman was
+praying for them also. For the state of their souls filled her with
+anxiety and alarm.
+
+The day before, when Dagobert had set out for Chartres, Frances, having
+assisted Rose and Blanche to rise, had invited them to say their morning
+prayer: they answered with the utmost simplicity, that they did not know
+any, and that they never more than addressed their mother, who was in
+heaven. When Frances, struck with painful surprise, spoke to them of
+catechism, confirmation, communion, the sisters opened widely their
+large eyes with astonishment, understanding nothing of such talk.
+
+According to her simple faith, terrified at the ignorance of the young
+girls in matters of religion, Dagobert's wife believed their souls to
+be in the greatest peril, the more so as, having asked them if they had
+ever been baptized (at the same time explaining to them the nature of
+that sacrament), the orphans answered they did not think they had, since
+there was neither church nor priest in the village where they were born,
+during their mother's exile in Siberia.
+
+Placing one's self in the position of Frances, you understand how much
+she was grieved and alarmed; for, in her eyes, these young girls,
+whom she already loved tenderly, so charmed was she with their sweet
+disposition, were nothing but poor heathens, innocently doomed to
+eternal damnation. So, unable to restrain her tears, or conceal her
+horrors, she had clasped them in her arms, promising immediately to
+attend to their salvation, and regretting that Dagobert had not thought
+of having them baptized by the way. Now, it must be confessed, that this
+notion had never once occurred to the ex-grenadier.
+
+When she went to her usual Sunday devotions, Frances had not dared to
+take Rose and Blanche with her, as their complete ignorance of sacred
+things would have rendered their presence at church, if not useless,
+scandalous; but, in her own fervent prayers she implored celestial mercy
+for these orphans, who did not themselves know the desperate position of
+their souls.
+
+Rose and Blanche were now left alone, in the absence of Dagobert's wife.
+They were still dressed in mourning, their charming faces seeming
+even more pensive than usual. Though they were accustomed to a life of
+misfortune, they had been struck, since their arrival in the Rue Brise
+Miche, with the painful contrast between the poor dwelling which they
+had come to inhabit, and the wonders which their young imagination had
+conceived of Paris, that golden city of their dreams. But, soon this
+natural astonishment was replaced by thoughts of singular gravity for
+their age. The contemplation of such honest and laborious poverty made
+the orphans have reflections no longer those of children, but of young
+women. Assisted by their admirable spirit of justice and of sympathy for
+all that is good, by their noble heart, by a character at once delicate
+and courageous, they had observed and meditated much during the last
+twenty-four hours.
+
+"Sister," said Rose to Blanche, when Frances had quitted the room,
+"Dagobert's poor wife is very uneasy. Did you remark in the night, how
+agitated she was? how she wept and prayed?"
+
+"I was grieved to see it, sister, and wondered what could be the cause."
+
+"I am almost afraid to guess. Perhaps we may be the cause of her
+uneasiness?"
+
+"Why so, sister? Because we cannot say prayers, nor tell if we have ever
+been baptized?"
+
+"That seemed to give her a good deal of pain, it is true. I was quite
+touched by it, for it proves that she loves us tenderly. But I could not
+understand how we ran such terrible danger as she said we did."
+
+"Nor I either, sister. We have always tried not to displease our mother,
+who sees and hears us."
+
+"We love those who love us; we are resigned to whatever may happen to
+us. So, who can reproach us with any harm?"
+
+"No one. But, perhaps, we may do some without meaning it."
+
+"We?"
+
+"Yes, and therefore I thought: We may perhaps be the cause of her
+uneasiness."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Listen, sister! yesterday Madame Baudoin tried to work at those sacks
+of coarse cloth there on the table."
+
+"Yes; but in about an half-hour, she told us sorrowfully, that she could
+not go on, because her eyes failed her, and she could not see clearly."
+
+"So that she is not able to earn her living."
+
+"No--but her son, M. Agricola, works for her. He looks so good, so gay,
+so frank, and so happy to devote himself for his mother. Oh, indeed! he
+is the worthy brother of our angel Gabriel!"
+
+"You will see my reason for speaking of this. Our good old Dagobert told
+us, that, when we arrived here, he had only a few pieces of money left."
+
+"That is true."
+
+"Now both he and his wife are unable to earn their living; what can a
+poor old soldier like him do?"
+
+"You are right; he only knows how to love us, and take care of us, like
+his children."
+
+"It must then be M. Agricola who will have to support his father; for
+Gabriel is a poor priest, who possesses nothing, and can render no
+assistance to those who have brought him up. So M. Agricola will have to
+support the whole family by himself."
+
+"Doubtless--he owes it to father and mother--it is his duty, and he will
+do it with a good will."
+
+"Yes, sister--but he owes us nothing."
+
+"What do you say, Blanche?"
+
+"He is obliged to work for us also, as we possess nothing in the world."
+
+"I had not thought of that. True."
+
+"It is all very well, sister, for our father to be Duke and Marshal of
+France, as Dagobert tells us, it is all very well for us to hope great
+things from this medal, but as long as father is not here, and our hopes
+are not realized, we shall be merely poor orphans, obliged to remain a
+burden to this honest family, to whom we already owe so much, and who
+find it so hard to live, that--"
+
+"Why do you pause, sister?"
+
+"What I am about to say would make other people laugh; but you will
+understand it. Yesterday, when Dagobert's wife saw poor Spoil-sport at
+his dinner, she said, sorrowfully: 'Alas! he eats as much as a man!'--so
+that I could almost have cried to hear her. They must be very poor, and
+yet we have come to increase their poverty."
+
+The sisters looked sadly at each other, while Spoil-sport pretended not
+to know they were talking of his voracity.
+
+"Sister, I understand," said Rose, after a moment's silence. "Well, we
+must not be at the charge of any one. We are young, and have courage.
+Till our fate is decided, let us fancy ourselves daughters of
+workmen. After all, is not our grandfather a workman? Let us find some
+employment, and earn our own living. It must be so proud and happy to
+earn one's living!"
+
+"Good little sister," said Blanche, kissing Rose. "What happiness! You
+have forestalled my thought; kiss me!"
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Your project is mine exactly. Yesterday, when I heard Dagobert's wife
+complain so sadly that she had lost her sight. I looked into your large
+eyes, which reminded me of my own, and said to myself: 'Well! this poor
+old woman may have lost her sight, but Rose and Blanche Simon can see
+pretty clearly'--which is a compensation," added Blanche, with a smile.
+
+"And, after all," resumed Rose, smiling in her turn, "the young ladies
+in question are not so very awkward, as not to be able to sew up great
+sacks of coarse cloth--though it may chafe their fingers a little."
+
+"So we had both the same thought, as usual; only I wished to surprise
+you, and waited till we were alone, to tell you my plan."
+
+"Yes, but there is something teases me."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"First of all, Dagobert and his wife will be sure to say to us: 'Young
+ladies, you are not fitted for such work. What, daughters of a Marshal
+of France sewing up great ugly bags!' And then, if we insist upon it,
+they will add: 'Well, we have no work to give you. If you want any, you
+must hunt for it.' What would Misses Simon do then?"
+
+"The fact is, that when Dagobert has made up his mind to anything--"
+
+"Oh! even then, if we coax him well--"
+
+"Yes, in certain things; but in others he is immovable. It is just as
+when upon the journey, we wished to prevent his doing so much for us."
+
+"Sister, an idea strikes me," cried Rose, "an excellent idea!"
+
+"What is it? quick!"
+
+"You know the young woman they call Mother Bunch, who appears to be so
+serviceable and persevering?"
+
+"Oh yes! and so timid and discreet. She seems always to be afraid
+of giving offence, even if she looks at one. Yesterday, she did not
+perceive that I saw her; but her eyes were fixed on you with so good and
+sweet an expression, that tears came into mine at the very sight of it."
+
+"Well, we must ask her how she gets work, for certainly she lives by her
+labor."
+
+"You are right. She will tell us all about it; and when we know,
+Dagobert may scold us, or try to make great ladies of us, but we will be
+as obstinate as he is."
+
+"That is it; we must show some spirit! We will prove to him, as he says
+himself, that we have soldier's blood in our veins."
+
+"We will say to him: 'Suppose, as you say, we should one day be rich, my
+good Dagobert, we shall only remember this time with the more pleasure."
+
+"It is agreed then, is it not, Rose? The first time we are alone
+with Mother Bunch, we must make her our confidant, and ask her for
+information. She is so good a person, that she will not refuse us."
+
+"And when father comes home, he will be pleased, I am sure, with our
+courage."
+
+"And will approve our wish to support ourselves, as if we were alone in
+the world."
+
+On these words of her sister, Rose started. A cloud of sadness, almost
+of alarm, passed over her charming countenance, as she exclaimed: "Oh,
+sister, what a horrible idea!"
+
+"What is the matter? your look frightens me."
+
+"At the moment I heard you say, that our father would approve our wish
+to support ourselves, as if we were alone in the world--a frightful
+thought struck me--I know not why--but feel how my heart beats--just as
+if some misfortune were about to happen us."
+
+"It is true; your poor heart beats violently. But what was this thought?
+You alarm me."
+
+"When we were prisoners, they did not at least separate us, and,
+besides, the prison was a kind of shelter--"
+
+"A sad one, though shared with you."
+
+"But if, when arrived here, any accident had parted us from Dagobert--if
+we had been left alone, without help, in this great town?"
+
+"Oh, sister! do not speak of that. It would indeed be terrible. What
+would become of us, kind heaven?"
+
+This cruel thought made the girls remain for a moment speechless with
+emotion. Their sweet faces, which had just before glowed with a noble
+hope, grew pale and sad. After a pretty long silence, Rose uplifted
+her eyes, now filled with tears, "Why does this thought," she said,
+trembling, "affect us so deeply, sister? My heart sinks within me, as if
+it were really to happen to us."
+
+"I feel as frightened as you yourself. Alas! were we both to be lost in
+this immense city, what would become of us?"
+
+"Do not let us give way to such ideas, Blanche! Are we not here in
+Dagobert's house, in the midst of good people?"
+
+"And yet, sister," said Rose, with a pensive air, "it is perhaps good
+for us to have had this thought."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Because we shall now find this poor lodging all the better, as it
+affords a shelter from all our fears. And when, thanks to our labor,
+we are no longer a burden to any one, what more can we need until the
+arrival of our father?"
+
+"We shall want for nothing--there you are right--but still, why did this
+thought occur to us, and why does it weigh so heavily on our minds?"
+
+"Yes, indeed--why? Are we not here in the midst of friends that love us?
+How could we suppose that we should ever be left alone in Paris? It is
+impossible that such a misfortune should happen to us--is it not, my
+dear sister?"
+
+"Impossible!" said Rose, shuddering. "If the day before we reached that
+village in Germany, where poor Jovial was killed, any one had said to
+us: 'To-morrow, you will be in prison'--we should have answered as now:
+'It is impossible. Is not Dagobert here to protect us; what have we to
+fear?' And yet, sister, the day after we were in prison at Leipsic."
+
+"Oh! do not speak thus, my dear sister! It frightens me."
+
+By a sympathetic impulse, the orphans took one another by the hand,
+while they pressed close together, and looked around with involuntary
+fear. The sensation they felt was in fact deep, strange, inexplicable,
+and yet lowering--one of those dark presentiments which come over us,
+in spite of ourselves--those fatal gleams of prescience, which throw a
+lurid light on the mysterious profundities of the future.
+
+Unaccountable glimpses of divination! often no sooner perceived than
+forgotten--but, when justified by the event, appearing with all the
+attributes of an awful fatality!
+
+The daughters of Marshal Simon were still absorbed in the mournful
+reverie which these singular thoughts had awakened, when Dagobert's
+wife, returning from her son's chamber, entered the room with a
+painfully agitated countenance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII. THE LETTER.
+
+Frances' agitation was so perceptible that Rose could not help
+exclaiming: "Good gracious, what is the matter?"
+
+"Alas, my dear young ladies! I can no longer conceal it from you," said
+Frances, bursting into tears. "Since yesterday I have not seen him. I
+expected my son to supper as usual, and he never came; but I would not
+let you see how much I suffered. I continued to expect him, minute after
+minute; for ten years he has never gone up to bed without coming to kiss
+me; so I spent a good part of the night close to the door, listening if
+I could hear his step. But he did not come; and, at last, about three
+o'clock in the morning, I threw myself down upon the mattress. I have
+just been to see (for I still had a faint hope), if my son had come in
+this morning--"
+
+"Well, madame!"
+
+"There is no sign of him!" said the poor mother, drying her eyes.
+
+Rose and Blanche looked at each other with emotion; the same thought
+filled the minds of both; if Agricola should not return, how would this
+family live? would they not, in such an event, become doubly burdensome?
+
+"But, perhaps, madame," said Blanche, "M. Agricola remained too late at
+his work to return home last night."
+
+"Oh! no, no! he would have returned in the middle of the night, because
+he knew what uneasiness he would cause me by stopping out. Alas! some
+misfortune must have happened to him! Perhaps he has been injured at the
+forge, he is so persevering at his work. Oh, my poor boy! and, as if I
+did not feel enough anxiety about him, I am also uneasy about the poor
+young woman who lives upstairs."
+
+"Why so, madame?"
+
+"When I left my son's room, I went into hers, to tell her my grief, for
+she is almost a daughter to me; but I did not find her in the little
+closet where she lives, and the bed had not even been slept in. Where
+can she have gone so early--she, that never goes out?"
+
+Rose and Blanche looked at each other with fresh uneasiness, for they
+counted much upon Mother Bunch to help them in the resolution they had
+taken. Fortunately, both they and Frances were soon to be satisfied
+on this head, for they heard two low knocks at the door, and the
+sempstress's voice, saying: "Can I come in, Mrs. Baudoin?"
+
+By a spontaneous impulse, Rose and Blanche ran to the door, and opened
+it to the young girl. Sleet and snow had been falling incessantly since
+the evening before; the gingham dress of the young sempstress, her
+scanty cotton shawl, and the black net cap, which, leaving uncovered
+two thick bands of chestnut hair, encircled her pale and interesting
+countenance, were all dripping wet; the cold had given a livid
+appearance to her thin, white hands; it was only in the fire of her blue
+eyes, generally so soft and timid, that one perceived the extraordinary
+energy which this frail and fearful creature had gathered from the
+emergency of the occasion.
+
+"Dear me! where do you come from, my good Mother Bunch?" said Frances.
+"Just now, in going to see if my son had returned, I opened your door,
+and was quite astonished to find you gone out so early."
+
+"I bring you news of Agricola."
+
+"Of my son!" cried Frances, trembling all over. "What has happened to
+him? Did you see him?--Did you speak to him?--Where is he?"
+
+"I did not see him, but I know where he is." Then, perceiving that
+Frances grew very pale, the girl added: "He is well; he is in no
+danger."
+
+"Blessed be God, who has pity on a poor sinner!--who yesterday restored
+me my husband, and to-day, after a night of cruel anguish, assures me of
+the safety of my child!" So saying, Frances knelt down upon the floor,
+and crossed herself with fervor.
+
+During the moment of silence, caused by this pious action, Rose and
+Blanche approached Mother Bunch, and said to her in a low voice, with
+an expression of touching interest: "How wet you are! you must be very
+cold. Take care you do not get ill. We did not venture to ask Madame
+Frances to light the fire in the stove, but now we will do so."
+
+Surprised and affected by the kindness of Marshal Simon's daughters,
+the hunchback, who was more sensible than others to the least mark of
+kindness, answered them with a look of ineffable gratitude: "I am much
+obliged to you, young ladies; but I am accustomed to the cold, and am
+moreover so anxious that I do not feel it."
+
+"And my son?" said Frances, rising after she had remained some moments
+on her knees; "why did he stay out all night? And could you tell me
+where to find him, my good girl? Will he soon come? why is he so long?"
+
+"I assure you, Agricola is well; but I must inform you, that for some
+time--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You must have courage, mother."
+
+"Oh! the blood runs cold in my veins. What has happened? why shall I not
+see him?"
+
+"Alas, he is arrested."
+
+"Arrested!" cried Rose and Blanche, with affright.
+
+"Father! Thy will be done!" said Frances; "but it is a great misfortune.
+Arrested! for what? He is so good and honest, that there must be some
+mistake."
+
+"The day before yesterday," resumed Mother Bunch, "I received an
+anonymous letter, by which I was informed that Agricola might be
+arrested at any moment, on account of his song. We agreed together that
+he should go to the rich young lady in the Rue de Babylone, who had
+offered him her services, and ask her to procure bail for him; to
+prevent his going to prison. Yesterday morning he set out to go to the
+young lady's."
+
+"And neither of you told me anything of all this--why did you hide it
+from me?"
+
+"That we might not make you uneasy, mother; for, counting on the
+generosity of that young lady, I expected Agricola back every moment.
+When he did not come yesterday evening. I said to myself: 'Perhaps the
+necessary formalities with regard to the bail have detained him.' But
+the time passed on, and he did not make his appearance. So, I watched
+all night, expecting him."
+
+"So you did not go to bed either, my good girl?"
+
+"No, I was too uneasy. This morning, not being able to conquer my fears,
+I went out before dawn. I remembered the address of the young lady in
+the Rue de Babylone, and I ran thither."
+
+"Oh, well!" said Frances, with anxiety; "you were in the right.
+According to what my son told us, that young lady appeared very good and
+generous."
+
+Mother Bunch shook her head sorrowfully; a tear glittered in her eyes,
+as she continued: "It was still dark when I arrived at the Rue de
+Babylone; I waited till daylight was come."
+
+"Poor child! you, who are so weak and timid," said Frances, with deep
+feeling, "to go so far, and in this dreadful weather!--Oh, you have been
+a real daughter to me!"
+
+"Has not Agricola been like a brother to me!" said Mother Bunch, softly,
+with a slight blush.
+
+"When it was daylight," she resumed: "I ventured to ring at the door
+of the little summer-house; a charming young girl, but with a sad,
+pale countenance, opened the door to me. 'I come in the name of an
+unfortunate mother in despair,' said I to her immediately, for I was so
+poorly dressed that I feared to be sent away as a beggar; but seeing, on
+the contrary, that the young girl listened to me with kindness, I asked
+her if, the day before, a young workman had not come to solicit a
+great favor of her mistress. 'Alas! yes,' answered the young girl; 'my
+mistress was going to interest herself for him, and, hearing that he was
+in danger of being arrested, she concealed him here; unfortunately, his
+retreat was discovered, and yesterday afternoon, at four o'clock, he was
+arrested and taken to prison.'"
+
+Though the orphans took no part in this melancholy conversation, the
+sorrow and anxiety depicted in their countenances, showed how much they
+felt for the sufferings of Dagobert's wife.
+
+"But the young lady?" cried Frances. "You should have tried to see her,
+my good Mother Bunch, and begged her not to abandon my son. She is so
+rich that she must have influence, and her protection might save us from
+great calamities."
+
+"Alas!" said Mother Bunch, with bitter grief, "we must renounce this
+last hope."
+
+"Why?" said Frances. "If this young lady is so good, she will have
+pity upon us, when she knows that my son is the only support of a whole
+family, and that for him to go to prison is worse than for another,
+because it will reduce us all to the greatest misery."
+
+"But this young lady," replied the girl, "according to what I learned
+from her weeping maid, was taken last evening to a lunatic asylum: it
+appears she is mad."
+
+"Mad! Oh! it is horrible for her, and for us also--for now there is no
+hope. What will become of us without my son? Oh, merciful heaven!" The
+unfortunate woman hid her face in her hands.
+
+A profound silence followed this heart-rending outburst. Rose and
+Blanche exchanged mournful glances, for they perceived that their
+presence augmented the weighty embarrassments of this family. Mother
+Bunch, worn out with fatigue, a prey to painful emotions, and trembling
+with cold in her wet clothes, sank exhausted on a chair, and reflected
+on their desperate position.
+
+That position was indeed a cruel one!
+
+Often, in times of political disturbances, or of agitation amongst the
+laboring classes, caused by want of work, or by the unjust reduction of
+wages (the result of the powerful coalition of the capitalists)--often
+are whole families reduced, by a measure of preventive imprisonment, to
+as deplorable a position as that of Dagobert's household by Agricola's
+arrest--an arrest, which, as will afterwards appear, was entirely owing
+to Rodin's arts.
+
+Now, with regard to this "precautionary imprisonment," of which the
+victims are almost always honest and industrious mechanics, driven to
+the necessity of combining together by the In organization of Labor and
+the Insufficiency of Wages, it is painful to see the law, which ought to
+be equal for all, refuse to strikers what it grants to masters--because
+the latter can dispose of a certain sum of money. Thus, under many
+circumstances, the rich man, by giving bail, can escape the annoyance
+and inconveniences of a preventive incarceration; he deposits a sum of
+money, pledges his word to appear on a certain day, and goes back to
+his pleasures, his occupations, and the sweet delights of his family.
+Nothing can be better; an accused person is innocent till he is proved
+guilty; we cannot be too much impressed with that indulgent maxim. It is
+well for the rich man that he can avail himself of the mercy of the law.
+But how is it with the poor?
+
+Not only has he no bail to give, for his whole capital consists of his
+daily labor; but it is upon him chiefly that the rigors of preventive
+measures must fall with a terrible and fatal force.
+
+For the rich man, imprisonment is merely the privation of ease
+and comfort, tedious hours, and the pain of separation from his
+family--distresses not unworthy of interest, for all suffering deserves
+pity, and the tears of the rich man separated from his children are as
+bitter as those of the poor. But the absence of the rich man does not
+condemn his family to hunger and cold, and the incurable maladies caused
+by exhaustion and misery.
+
+For the workman, on the contrary, imprisonment means want, misery,
+sometimes death, to those most dear to him. Possessing nothing, he is
+unable to find bail, and he goes to prison. But if he have, as it often
+happens, an old, infirm father or mother, a sick wife, or children in
+the cradle? What will become of this unfortunate family? They could
+hardly manage to live from day to day upon the wages of this man, wages
+almost always insufficient, and suddenly this only resource will be
+wanting for three or four months together.
+
+What will this family do? To whom will they have recourse?
+
+What will become of these infirm old men, these sickly wives, these
+little children, unable to gain their daily bread? If they chance to
+have a little linen and a few spare clothes, these will be carried
+to the pawnbroker's, and thus they will exist for a week or so--but
+afterwards?
+
+And if winter adds the rigors of the season to this frightful and
+inevitable misery?
+
+Then will the imprisoned artisan see in his mind's eyes, during the long
+and sleepless nights, those who are dear to him, wan, gaunt, haggard,
+exhausted, stretched almost naked upon filthy straw, or huddled close
+together to warm their frozen limbs. And, should he afterwards be
+acquitted, it is ruin and desolation that he finds on his return to his
+poor dwelling.
+
+And then, after that long cessation from labor, he will find it
+difficult to return to his old employers. How many days will be lost in
+seeking for work! and a day without employment is a day without bread!
+
+Let us repeat our opinion, that if, under various circumstances, the law
+did not afford to the rich the facility of giving bail, we could only
+lament over all such victims of individual and inevitable misfortune.
+But since the law does provide the means of setting provisionally at
+liberty those who possess a certain sum of money, why should it deprive
+of this advantage those very persons, for whom liberty is indeed
+indispensable, as it involves the existence of themselves and families?
+
+Is there any remedy for this deplorable state of things? We believe
+there is.
+
+The law has fixed the minimum of bail at five hundred francs. Now five
+hundred francs represent, upon the average, six months' labor of an
+industrious workman.
+
+If he have a wife and two children (which is also about the average), it
+is evidently quite impossible for him to have saved any such sum.
+
+So, to ask of such a man five hundred francs, to enable him to continue
+to support his family, is in fact to put him beyond the pale of the law,
+though, more than any one else, he requires its protection, because of
+the disastrous consequences which his imprisonment entails upon others.
+
+Would it not be equitable and humane, a noble and salutary example,
+to accept, in every case where bail is allowed (and where the good
+character of the accused could be honorably established), moral
+guarantees, in the absence of material ones, from those who have no
+capital but their labor and their integrity--to accept the word of an
+honest man to appear upon the day of trial? Would it not be great and
+moral, in these days to raise the value of the lighted word, and exalt
+man in his own eyes, by showing him that his promise was held to be
+sufficient security?
+
+Will you so degrade the dignity of man, as to treat this proposition as
+an impossible and Utopian dream? We ask, how many prisoners of war have
+ever broken their parole, and if officers and soldiers are not brothers
+of the workingman?
+
+Without exaggerating the virtue of promise-keeping in the honest and
+laborious poor, we feel certain, that an engagement taken by the accused
+to appear on the day of trial would be always fulfilled, not only with
+fidelity, but with the warmest gratitude--for his family would not have
+suffered by his absence, thanks to the indulgence of the law.
+
+There is also another fact, of which France may well be proud. It is,
+that her magistrates (although miserably paid as the army itself) are
+generally wise, upright, humane, and independent; they have the true
+feeling of their own useful and sacred mission; they know how to
+appreciate the wants and distresses of the working classes, with whom
+they are so often brought in contact; to them might be safely granted
+the power of fixing those cases in which a moral security, the only one
+that can be given by the honest and necessitous man, should be received
+as sufficient.(10)
+
+Finally, if those who make the laws have so low an opinion of the people
+as to reject with disdain the suggestions we have ventured to throw
+out, let them at least so reduce the minimum of bail, as to render it
+available for those who have most need to escape the fruitless rigors of
+imprisonment. Let them take as their lowest limit, the month's wages of
+an artisan--say eighty francs.
+
+This sum would still be exorbitant; but, with the aid of friends, the
+pawnbroker's, and some little advances, eighty francs might perhaps be
+found--not always, it is true--but still sometimes--and, at all events,
+many families would be rescued from frightful misery.
+
+Having made these observations, let us return to Dagobert's family, who,
+in consequence of the preventive arrest of Agricola, were now reduced to
+an almost hopeless state.
+
+The anguish of Dagobert's wife increased, the more she reflected on her
+situation, for, including the marshal's daughters, four persons were
+left absolutely without resource. It must be confessed, however, that
+the excellent mother thought less of herself, than of the grief which
+her son must feel in thinking over her deplorable position.
+
+At this moment there was a knock at the door.
+
+"Who is there?" said Frances.
+
+"It is me--Father Loriot."
+
+"Come in," said Dagobert's wife.
+
+The dyer, who also performed the functions of a porter, appeared at the
+door of the room. This time, his arms were no longer of a bright apple
+green, but of a magnificent violet.
+
+"Mrs. Baudoin," said Father Loriot, "here is a letter that the giver of
+holy water at Saint Merely's has just brought from Abbe Dubois, with
+a request that I would bring it up to you immediately, as it is very
+pressing."
+
+"A letter from my confessor?" said Frances, in astonishment; and, as she
+took it, added: "Thank you, Father Loriot."
+
+"You do not want anything?"
+
+"No, Father Loriot."
+
+"My respects to the ladies!" and the dyer went out.
+
+"Mother Bunch, will you read this letter for me?" said Frances, anxious
+to learn the contents of the missive in question.
+
+"Yes, mother,"--and the young girl read as follows:
+
+"'MY DEAR MADAME BAUDOIN,--I am in the habit of hearing you Tuesday and
+Saturday, but I shall not be at liberty either to-morrow or the last day
+of the week; you must then come to me this morning, unless you wish to
+remain a whole week without approaching the tribunal of penance.'"
+
+"Good heavens! a week!" cried Dagobert's wife. "Alas! I am only too
+conscious of the necessity of going there today, notwithstanding the
+trouble and grief in which I am plunged."
+
+Then, addressing herself to the orphans, she continued: "Heaven has
+heard the prayers that I made for you, my dear young ladies; this very
+day I shall be able to consult a good and holy man with regard to the
+great dangers to which you are exposed. Poor dear souls, that are so
+innocent, and yet so guilty, without any fault of your own! Heaven is my
+witness, that my heart bleeds for you as much as for my son."
+
+Rose and Blanche looked at each other in confusion; they could not
+understand the fears with which the state of their souls inspired
+the wife of Dagobert. The latter soon resumed, addressing the young
+sempstress:
+
+"My good girl, will you render me yet another service?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"My husband took Agricola's week's wages with him to pay his journey
+to Chartres. It was all the money I had in the house; I am sure that my
+poor child had none about him, and in prison he will perhaps want some.
+Therefore take my silver cup, fork, and spoon, the two pair of sheets
+that remain over, and my wadded silk shawl, that Agricola gave me on my
+birthday, and carry them all to the pawnbroker's. I will try and find
+out in which prison my son is confined, and will send him half of
+the little sum we get upon the things; the rest will serve us till my
+husband comes home. And then, what shall we do? What a blow for him--and
+only more misery in prospect--since my son is in prison, and I have
+lost my sight. Almighty Father!" cried the unfortunate mother, with an
+expression of impatient and bitter grief, "why am I thus afflicted? Have
+I not done enough to deserve some pity, if not for myself, at least for
+those belonging to me?" But immediately reproaching herself for this
+outburst, she added, "No, no! I ought to accept with thankfulness all
+that Thou sandiest me. Forgive me for these complaints, or punish only
+myself!"
+
+"Be of good courage, mother!" said Mother Bunch. "Agricola is innocent,
+and will not remain long in prison."
+
+"But now I think of it," resumed Dagobert's wife, "to go to the
+pawnbroker's will make you lose much time, my poor girl."
+
+"I can make up that in the night, Madame Frances; I could not sleep,
+knowing you in such trouble. Work will amuse me."
+
+"Yes, but the candles--"
+
+"Never mind, I am a little beforehand with my work," said the poor girl,
+telling a falsehood.
+
+"Kiss me, at least," said Frances, with moist eyes, "for you are the
+very best creature in the world." So saying, she hastened cut of the
+room.
+
+Rose and Blanche were left alone with Mother Bunch; at length had
+arrived the moment for which they had waited with so much impatience.
+Dagobert's wife proceeded to St. Merely Church, where her confessor was
+expecting to see her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII. THE CONFESSIONAL
+
+Nothing could be more gloomy than the appearance of St. Merely Church,
+on this dark and snowy winter's day. Frances stopped a moment beneath
+the porch, to behold a lugubrious spectacle.
+
+While a priest was mumbling some words in a low voice, two or three
+dirty choristers, in soiled surplices, were charting the prayers for the
+dead, with an absent and sullen air, round a plain deal coffin, followed
+only by a sobbing old man and a child, miserably clad. The beadle and
+the sacristan, very much displeased at being disturbed for so wretched
+a funeral, had not deigned to put on their liveries, but, yawning
+with impatience, waited for the end of the ceremony, so useless to the
+interests of the establishment. At length, a few drops of holy water
+being sprinkled on the coffin, the priest handed the brush to the
+beadle, and retired.
+
+Then took place one of those shameful scenes, the necessary consequence
+of an ignoble and sacrilegious traffic, so frequent with regard to the
+burials of the poor, who cannot afford to pay for tapers, high mass,
+or violins--for now St. Thomas Aquinas' Church has violins even for the
+dead.
+
+The old man stretched forth his hand to the sacristan to receive the
+brush. "Come, look sharp!" said that official, blowing on his fingers.
+
+The emotion of the old man was profound, and his weakness extreme; he
+remained for a moment without stirring, while the brush was clasped
+tightly in his trembling hand. In that coffin was his daughter, the
+mother of the ragged child who wept by his side--his heart was breaking
+at the thought of that last farewell; he stood motionless, and his bosom
+heaved with convulsive sobs.
+
+"Now, will you make haste?" said the brutal beadle. "Do you think we are
+going to sleep here?"
+
+The old man quickened his movements. He made the sign of the cross over
+the corpse, and, stooping down, was about to place the brush in the hand
+of his grandson, when the sacristan, thinking the affair had lasted long
+enough, snatched the sprinkling-brush from the child, and made a sign to
+the bearers to carry away the coffin--which was immediately done.
+
+"Wasn't that old beggar a slow coach?" said the beadle to his companion,
+as they went back to the sacristy. "We shall hardly have time to get
+breakfast, and to dress ourselves for the bang-up funeral of this
+morning. That will be something like a dead man, that's worth the
+trouble. I shall shoulder my halberd in style!"
+
+"And mount your colonel's epaulets, to throw dust in the eyes of the
+women that let out the chairs--eh, you old rascal!" said the other, with
+a sly look.
+
+"What can I do, Capillare? When one has a fine figure, it must be seen,"
+answered the beadle, with a triumphant air. "I cannot blind the women to
+prevent their losing their hearts!"
+
+Thus conversing; the two men reached the sacristy. The sight of the
+funeral had only increased the gloom of Frances. When she entered the
+church, seven or eight persons, scattered about upon chairs, alone
+occupied the damp and icy building. One of the distributors of holy
+water, an old fellow with a rubicund, joyous, wine-bibbing face, seeing
+Frances approach the little font, said to her in a low voice: "Abbe
+Dubois is not yet in his box. Be quick, and you will have the first wag
+of his beard."
+
+Though shocked at this pleasantry, Frances thanked the irreverent
+speaker, made devoutly the sign of the cross, advanced some steps into
+the church, and knelt down upon the stones to repeat the prayer, which
+she always offered up before approaching the tribunal of penance. Having
+said this prayer, she went towards a dark corner of the church, in which
+was an oaken confessional, with a black curtain drawn across the grated
+door. The places on each side were vacant; so Frances knelt down in that
+upon the right hand, and remained there for some time absorbed in bitter
+reflections.
+
+In a few minutes, a priest of tall stature, with gray hair and a stern
+countenance, clad in a long black cassock, stalked slowly along one of
+the aisles of the church. A short, old, misshapen man, badly dressed,
+leaning upon an umbrella, accompanied him, and from time to time
+whispered in his ear, when the priest would stop to listen with a
+profound and respectful deference.
+
+As they approached the confessional, the short old man, perceiving
+Frances on her knees, looked at the priest with an air of interrogation.
+"It is she," said the clergyman.
+
+"Well, in two or three hours, they will expect the two girls at St.
+Mary's Convent. I count upon it," said the old man.
+
+"I hope so, for the sake of their souls," answered the priest; and,
+bowing gravely, he entered the confessional. The short old man quitted
+the church.
+
+This old man was Rodin. It was on leaving Saint Merely's that he went to
+the lunatic asylum, to assure himself that Dr. Baleinier had faithfully
+executed his instructions with regard to Adrienne de Cardoville.
+
+Frances was still kneeling in the interior of the confessional. One
+of the slides opened, and a voice began to speak. It was that of
+the priest, who, for the last twenty years had been the confessor of
+Dagobert's wife, and exercised over her an irresistible and all-powerful
+influence.
+
+"You received my letter?" said the voice.
+
+"Yes, father.
+
+"Very well--I listen to you."
+
+"Bless me, father--for I have sinned!" said Frances.
+
+The voice pronounced the formula of the benediction. Dagobert's wife
+answered "amen," as was proper, said her confider to "It is my fault,"
+gave an account of the manner in which she had performed her last
+penance, and then proceeded to the enumeration of the new sins,
+committed since she had received absolution.
+
+For this excellent woman, a glorious martyr of industry and maternal
+love, always fancied herself sinning: her conscience was incessantly
+tormented by the fear that she had committed some incomprehensible
+offence. This mild and courageous creature, who, after a whole life
+of devotion, ought to have passed what time remained to her in calm
+serenity of soul, looked upon herself as a great sinner, and lived in
+continual anxiety, doubting much her ultimate salvation.
+
+"Father," said Frances, in a trembling voice, "I accuse myself of
+omitting my evening prayer the day before yesterday. My husband, from
+whom I had been separated for many years, returned home. The joy and the
+agitation caused by his arrival, made me commit this great sin."
+
+"What next?" said the voice, in a severe tone, which redoubled the poor
+woman's uneasiness.
+
+"Father, I accuse myself of falling into the same sin yesterday evening.
+I was in a state of mortal anxiety, for my son did not come home as
+usual, and I waited for him minute after minute, till the hour had
+passed over."
+
+"What next?" said the voice.
+
+"Father, I accuse myself of having told a falsehood all this week to
+my son, by letting him think that on account of his reproaching me for
+neglecting my health, I had taken a little wine for my dinner--whereas I
+had left it for him, who has more need of it, because he works so much."
+
+"Go on!" said the voice.
+
+"Father, I accuse myself of a momentary want of resignation this
+morning, when I learned that my poor son was arrested; instead of
+submitting with respect and gratitude to this new trial which the Lord
+hath sent me--alas! I rebelled against it in my grief--and of this I
+accuse myself."
+
+"A bad week," said the priest, in a tone of still greater severity, "a
+bad week--for you have always put the creature before the Creator. But
+proceed!"
+
+"Alas, father!" resumed Frances, much dejected, "I know that I am a
+great sinner; and I fear that I am on the road to sins of a still graver
+kind."
+
+"Speak!"
+
+"My husband brought with him from Siberia two young orphans, daughters
+of Marshal Simon. Yesterday morning, I asked them to say their prayers,
+and I learned from them, with as much fright as sorrow, that they know
+none of the mysteries of our holy faith, though they are fifteen years
+old. They have never received the sacrament, nor are they even baptized,
+father--not even baptized!"
+
+"They must be heathens!" cried the voice, in a tone of angry surprise.
+
+"That is what so much grieves me, father; for, as I and my husband are
+in the room of parents to these young orphans, we should be guilty of
+the sins which they might commit--should we not, father?"
+
+"Certainly,--since you take the place of those who ought to watch over
+their souls. The shepherd must answer for his flock," said the voice.
+
+"And if they should happen to be in mortal sin, father, I and my husband
+would be in mortal sin?"
+
+"Yes," said the voice; "you take the place of their parents; and fathers
+and mothers are guilty of all the sins which their children commit when
+those sins arise from the want of a Christian education."
+
+"Alas, father! what am I to do? I address myself to you as I would to
+heaven itself. Every day, every hour, that these poor young girls remain
+heathens, may contribute to bring about their eternal damnation, may it
+not, father?" said Frances, in a tone of the deepest emotion.
+
+"Yes," answered the voice; "and the weight of this terrible
+responsibility rests upon you and your husband; you have the charge of
+souls!"
+
+"Lord, have mercy upon me!" said Frances weeping.
+
+"You must not grieve yourself thus," answered the voice, in a softer
+tone; "happily for these unfortunates, they have met you upon the way.
+They, will have in you and your husband good and pious examples--for
+I suppose that your husband, though formerly an ungodly person, now
+practices his religious duties!"
+
+"We must pray for him, father," said Frances, sorrowfully; "grace has
+not yet touched his heart. He is like my poor child, who has also not
+been called to holiness. Ah, father!" said Frances, drying her tears,
+"these thoughts are my heaviest cross."
+
+"So neither your husband nor your son practises," resumed the voice,
+in a tone of reflection; "this is serious--very serious. The religious
+education of these two unfortunate girls has yet to begin. In your
+house, they will have ever before them the most deplorable examples.
+Take care! I have warned you. You have the charge of souls--your
+responsibility is immense!"
+
+"Father, it is that which makes me wretched--I am at a loss what to do.
+Help me, and give me your counsels: for twenty years your voice has been
+to me as the voice of the Lord."
+
+"Well! you must agree with your husband to send these unfortunate girls
+to some religious house where they may be instructed."
+
+"We are too poor, father, to pay for their schooling, and unfortunately
+my son has just been put in prison for songs that he wrote."
+
+"Behold the fruit of impiety," said the voice, severely; "look at
+Gabriel! he has followed my counsels, and is now the model of every
+Christian virtue."
+
+"My son, Agricola, has had good qualities, father; he is so kind, so
+devoted!"
+
+"Without religion," said the voice, with redoubled severity, "what you
+call good qualities are only vain appearances; at the least breath of
+the devil they will disappear--for the devil lurks in every soul that
+has no religion."
+
+"Oh! my poor son!" said Frances, weeping; "I pray for him every day,
+that faith may enlighten him."
+
+"I have always told you," resumed the voice, "that you have been too
+weak with him. God now punishes you for it. You should have parted from
+this irreligious son, and not sanctioned his impiety by loving him
+as you do. 'If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off,' saith the
+Scripture."
+
+"Alas, father! you know it is the only time I have disobeyed you; but I
+could not bring myself to part from my son."
+
+"Therefore is your salvation uncertain--but God is merciful. Do not fall
+into the same fault with regard to these young girls, whom Providence
+has sent you, that you might save them from eternal damnation. Do not
+plunge them into it by your own culpable indifference."
+
+"Oh, father! I have wept and prayed for them."
+
+"That is not sufficient. These unfortunate children cannot have any
+notion of good or evil. Their souls must be an abyss of scandal and
+impurity--brought up as they have been, by an impious mother, and a
+soldier devoid of religion."
+
+"As for that, father," said Frances, with simplicity, "they are gentle
+as angels, and my husband, who has not quitted them since their birth,
+declares they have the best hearts in the world."
+
+"Your husband has dwelt all his life in mortal sin," said the voice,
+harshly; "how can he judge of the state of souls? I repeat to you, that
+as you represent the parents of these unfortunates, it is not to-morrow,
+but it is today, and on the instant, that you must labor for their
+salvation, if you would not incur a terrible responsibility."
+
+"It is true--I know it well, father--and I suffer as much from this fear
+as from grief at my son's arrest. But what is to be done? I could not
+instruct these young girls at home--for I have not the knowledge--I have
+only faith--and then my poor husband, in his blindness, makes game of
+sacred things, which my son, at least, respects in my presence, out of
+regard for me. Then, once more, father, come to my aid, I conjure you!
+Advise me: what is to be done?"
+
+"We cannot abandon these two young souls to frightful perdition," said
+the voice, after a moment's silence: "there are not two ways of saving
+them: there is only one, and that is to place them in a religious house,
+where they may be surrounded by good and pious examples."
+
+"Oh, father! if we were not so poor, or if I could still work, I would
+try to gain sufficient to pay for their board, and do for them as I did
+for Gabriel. Unfortunately, I have quite lost my sight; but you, father,
+know some charitable souls, and if you could get any of them to interest
+them, selves for these poor orphans--"
+
+"Where is their father?"
+
+"He was in India; but, my husband tells me, he will soon be in France.
+That, however, is uncertain. Besides, it would make my heart bleed
+to see those poor children share our misery--which will soon be
+extreme--for we only live by my son's labor."
+
+"Have these girls no relation here?" asked the voice.
+
+"I believe not, father."
+
+"It was their mother who entrusted them to your husband, to bring them
+to France?"
+
+"Yes, father; he was obliged to set out yesterday for Chartres, on some
+very pressing business, as he told me."
+
+It will be remembered that Dagobert had not thought fit to inform his
+wife of the hopes which the daughters of Marshall Simon founded on the
+possession of the medal, and that he had particularly charged them not
+to mention these hopes, even to Frances.
+
+"So," resumed the voice, after a pause of some moments' duration, "your
+husband is not in Paris."
+
+"No, father; but he will doubtless return this evening or to-morrow
+morning."
+
+"Listen to me," said the voice, after another pause. "Every minute lost
+for those two young girls is a new step on the road to perdition. At any
+moment the hand of God may smite them, for He alone knows the hour of
+our death; and were they to die in the state in which they now are, they
+would most probably be lost to all eternity. This very day, therefore,
+you must open their eyes to the divine light, and place them in a
+religious house. It is your duty--it should be your desire!"
+
+"Oh, yes, father; but, unfortunately, I am too poor, as I have already
+told you."
+
+"I know it--you do not want for zeal or faith--but even were you capable
+of directing these young girls, the impious examples of your husband and
+son would daily destroy your work. Others must do for these orphans, in
+the name of Christian charity, that which you cannot do, though you are
+answerable for them before heaven."
+
+"Oh, father! if, thanks to you, this good work could be accomplished,
+how grateful I should be!"
+
+"It is not impossible. I know the superior of a convent, where these
+young girls would be instructed as they ought. The charge for their
+board would be diminished in consideration of their poverty; but,
+however small, it must be paid and there would be also an outfit to
+furnish. All that would be too dear for you."
+
+"Alas! yes, father."
+
+"But, by taking a little from my poor-box, and by applying to one or two
+generous persons, I think I shall be able to complete the necessary sum,
+and so get the young girls received at the convent."
+
+"Ah, father! you are my deliverer, and these children's."
+
+"I wish to be so--but, in the interest of their salvation, and to make
+these measures really efficacious, I must attach some conditions to the
+support I offer you."
+
+"Name them, father; they are accepted beforehand. Your commands shall be
+obeyed in everything."
+
+"First of all, the children must be taken this very morning to
+the convent, by my housekeeper, to whom you must bring them almost
+immediately."
+
+"Nay, father; that is impossible!" cried Frances.
+
+"Impossible? why?"
+
+"In the absence of my husband--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I dare not take a such a step without consulting him."
+
+"Not only must you abstain from consulting him, but the thing must be
+done during his absence."
+
+"What, father? should I not wait for his return?"
+
+"No, for two reasons," answered the priest, sternly: "first, because
+his hardened impiety would certainly lead him to oppose your pious
+resolution; secondly, because it is indispensable that these young girls
+should break off all connection with your husband, who, therefore, must
+be left in ignorance of the place of their retreat."
+
+"But, father," said Frances, a prey to cruel doubt and embarrassment,
+"it is to my husband that these children were entrusted--and to dispose
+of them without his consent would be--"
+
+"Can you instruct these children at your house--yes or no?" interrupted
+the voice.
+
+"No, father, I cannot."
+
+"Are they exposed to fall into a state of final impenitence by remaining
+with you--yes or no?"
+
+"Yes, father, they are so exposed."
+
+"Are you responsible, as you take the place of their parents, for the
+mortal sins they may commit--yes or no?"
+
+"Alas, father! I am responsible before God."
+
+"Is it in the interest of their eternal salvation that I enjoin you to
+place them this very day in a convent?"
+
+"It is for their salvation, father."
+
+"Well, then, choose!"
+
+"But tell me, I entreat you, father if I have the right to dispose of
+them without the consent of my husband?"
+
+"The right! you have not only the right, but it is your sacred duty.
+Would you not be bound, I ask you, to rescue these unfortunate creatures
+from a fire, against the will of your husband, or during his absence?
+Well! you must now rescue them, not from a fire that will only consume
+the body, but from one in which their souls would burn to all eternity."
+
+"Forgive me, I implore you, father," said the poor woman, whose
+indecision and anguish increased every minute; "satisfy my doubts!--How
+can I act thus, when I have sworn obedience to my husband?"
+
+"Obedience for good--yes--but never for evil. You confess, that, were
+it left to him, the salvation of these orphans would be doubtful, and
+perhaps impossible."
+
+"But, father," said Frances, trembling, "when my husband returns, he
+will ask me where are these children? Must I tell him a falsehood?"
+
+"Silence is not falsehood; you will tell him that you cannot answer his
+question."
+
+"My husband is the kindest of men; but such an answer will drive him
+almost mad. He has been a soldier, and his anger will be terrible,
+father," said Frances, shuddering at the thought.
+
+"And were his anger a hundred times more terrible, you should be proud
+to brave it in so sacred a cause!" cried the voice, with indignation.
+"Do you think that salvation is to be so easily gained on earth? Since
+when does the sinner, that would walk in the way of the Lord, turn aside
+for the stones and briars that may bruise and tear him?"
+
+"Pardon, father, pardon!" said Frances, with the resignation of despair.
+"Permit me to ask one more question, one only. Alas! if you do not guide
+me, how shall I find the way?"
+
+"Speak!"
+
+"When Marshal Simon arrives, he will ask his children of my husband.
+What answer can he then give to their father?"
+
+"When Marshal Simon arrives, you will let me know immediately, and
+then--I will see what is to be done. The rights of a father are only
+sacred in so far as he make use of them for the salvation of his
+children. Before and above the father on earth, is the Father in heaven,
+whom we must first serve. Reflect upon all this. By accepting what I
+propose to you, these young girls will be saved from perdition; they
+will not be at your charge; they will not partake of your misery; they
+will be brought up in a sacred institution, as, after all, the daughters
+of a Marshal of France ought to be--and, when their father arrives at
+Paris, if he be found worthy of seeing them again, instead of finding
+poor, ignorant, half savage heathens, he will behold two girls, pious,
+modest, and well informed, who, being acceptable with the Almighty, may
+invoke His mercy for their father, who, it must be owned, has great need
+of it--being a man of violence, war, and battle. Now decide! Will you,
+on peril of your soul, sacrifice the welfare of these girls in this
+world and the next, because of an impious dread of your husband's
+anger?"
+
+Though rude and fettered by intolerance, the confessor's language was
+(taking his view of the case) reasonable and just, because the honest
+priest was himself convinced of what he said; a blind instrument of
+Rodin, ignorant of the end in view, he believed firmly, that, in forcing
+Frances to place these young girls in a convent, he was performing a
+pious duty. Such was, and is, one of the most wonderful resources of the
+order to which Rodin belonged--to have for accomplices good and sincere
+people, who are ignorant of the nature of the plots in which they are
+the principal actors.
+
+Frances, long accustomed to submit to the influence of her confessor,
+could find nothing to object to his last words. She resigned herself to
+follow his directions, though she trembled to think of the furious anger
+of Dagobert, when he should no longer find the children that a dying
+mother had confided to his care. But, according to the priest's opinion,
+the more terrible this anger might appear to her, the more she would
+show her pious humility by exposing herself to it.
+
+"God's will be done, father!" said she, in reply to her confessor.
+"Whatever may happen, I wilt do my duty as a Christian--in obedience to
+your commands."
+
+"And the Lord will reward you for what you may have to suffer in the
+accomplishment of this meritorious act. You promise then, before God,
+that you will not answer any of your husband's questions, when he asks
+you for the daughters of Marshal Simon?"
+
+"Yes, father, I promise!" said Frances, with a shudder.
+
+"And will preserve the same silence towards Marshal Simon himself, in
+case he should return, before his daughters appear to me sufficiently
+grounded in the faith to be restored to him?"
+
+"Yes, father," said Frances, in a still fainter voice.
+
+"You will come and give me an account of the scene that takes place
+between you and your husband, upon his return?"
+
+"Yes, father; when must I bring the orphans to your house?"
+
+"In an hour. I will write to the superior, and leave the letter with my
+housekeeper. She is a trusty person, and will conduct the young girls to
+the convent."
+
+After she had listened to the exhortations of her confessor, and
+received absolution for her late sins, on condition of performing
+penance, Dagobert's wife left the confessional.
+
+The church was no longer deserted. An immense crowd pressed into it,
+drawn thither by the pomp of the grand funeral of which the beadle
+had spoken to the sacristan two hours before. It was with the greatest
+difficulty that Frances could reach the door of the church, now hung
+with sumptuous drapery.
+
+What a contrast to the poor and humble train, which had that morning so
+timidly presented themselves beneath the porch!
+
+The numerous clergy of the parish, in full procession, advanced
+majestically to receive the coffin covered with a velvet pall; the
+watered silks and stuffs of their copes and stoles, their splendid
+silvered embroideries, sparkled in the light of a thousand tapers. The
+beadle strutted in all the glory of his brilliant uniform and flashing
+epaulets; on the opposite side walked in high glee the sacristan,
+carrying his whalebone staff with a magisterial air; the voice of the
+choristers, now clad in fresh, white surplices, rolled out in bursts
+of thunder; the trumpets' blare shook the windows; and upon the
+countenances of all those who were to have a share in the spoils of this
+rich corpse, this excellent corpse, this first-class corpse, a look
+of satisfaction was visible, intense and yet subdued, which suited
+admirably with the air and attitude of the two heirs, tall, vigorous
+fellows with florid complexions, who, without overstepping the limits
+of a charming modesty of enjoyment, seemed to cuddle and hug themselves
+most comfortably in their mourning cloaks.
+
+Notwithstanding her simplicity and pious faith, Dagobert's wife was
+painfully impressed with this revolting difference between the reception
+of the rich and the poor man's coffin at the door of the house of
+God--for surely, if equality be ever real, it is in the presence of
+death and eternity!
+
+The two sad spectacles she had witnessed, tended still further to
+depress the spirits of Frances. Having succeeded with no small trouble
+in making her way out of the church, she hastened to return to the
+Rue Brise-Miche, in order to fetch the orphans and conduct them to the
+housekeeper of her confessor, who was in her turn to take them to St.
+Mary's Convent, situated, as we know, next door to Dr. Baleinier's
+lunatic-asylum, in which--Adrienne de Cardoville was confined.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX. MY LORD AND SPOIL-SPORT.
+
+The wife of Dagobert, having quitted the church, arrived at the corner
+of the Rue Brise-Miche, when she was accosted by the distributor of
+holy water; he came running out of breath, to beg her to return to Saint
+Mery's, where the Abbe Dubois had yet something of importance to say to
+her.
+
+The moment Frances turned to go back, a hackney-coach stopped in front
+of the house she inhabited. The coachman quitted his box to open the
+door.
+
+"Driver," said a stout woman dressed in black, who was seated in the
+carriage, and held a pug-dog upon her knees, "ask if Mrs. Frances
+Baudoin lives in this house."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said the coachman.
+
+The reader will no doubt have recognized Mrs. Grivois, head
+waiting-woman to the Princess de Saint-Dizier, accompanied by My Lord,
+who exercised a real tyranny over his mistress. The dyer, whom we have
+already seen performing the duties of a porter, being questioned by the
+coachman as to the dwelling of Frances, came out of his workshop, and
+advanced gallantly to the coach-door, to inform Mrs. Grivois, that
+Frances Baudoin did in fact live in the house, but that she was at
+present from home.
+
+The arms, hands, and part of the face of Father Loriot were now of
+a superb gold-color. The sight of this yellow personage singularly
+provoked My Lord, and at the moment the dyer rested his hand upon the
+edge of the coach-window, the cur began to yelp frightfully, and bit him
+in the wrist.
+
+"Oh! gracious heaven!" cried Mrs. Grivois, in an agony, whilst Father
+Loriot, withdrew his hand with precipitation; "I hope there is nothing
+poisonous in the dye that you have about you--my dog is so delicate!"
+
+So saying, she carefully wiped the pug-nose, spotted with yellow. Father
+Loriot, not at all satisfied with this speech, when he had expected to
+receive some apology from Mrs. Grivois on account of her dog's behavior,
+said to her, as with difficulty he restrained his anger: "If you did not
+belong to the fair sex, which obliges me to respect you in the person
+of that wretched animal I would have the pleasure of taking him by the
+tail, and making him in one minute a dog of the brightest orange color,
+by plunging him into my cauldron, which is already on the fire."
+
+"Dye my pet yellow!" cried Mrs. Grivois, in great wrath, as she
+descended from the hackney-coach, clasping My Lord tenderly to her
+bosom, and surveying Father Loriot with a savage look.
+
+"I told you, Mrs. Baudoin is not at home," said the dyer, as he saw the
+pug-dog's mistress advance in the direction of the dark staircase.
+
+"Never mind; I will wait for her," said Mrs. Grivois tartly. "On which
+story does she live?"
+
+"Up four pair!" answered Father Loriot, returning abruptly to his shop.
+And he added to himself, with a chuckle at the anticipation: "I hope
+Father Dagobert's big prowler will be in a bad humor, and give that
+villainous pug a shaking by the skin of his neck."
+
+Mrs. Grivois mounted the steep staircase with some difficulty, stopping
+at every landing-place to take breath, and looking about her with
+profound disgust. At length she reached the fourth story, and paused an
+instant at the door of the humble chamber, in which the two sisters and
+Mother Bunch then were.
+
+The young sempstress was occupied in collecting the different articles
+that she was about to carry to the pawnbroker's. Rose and Blanche seemed
+happier, and somewhat less uneasy about the future; for they had learned
+from Mother Bunch, that, when they knew how to sew, they might between
+them earn eight francs a week, which would at least afford some
+assistance to the family.
+
+The presence of Mrs. Grivois in Baudoin's dwelling was occasioned by a
+new resolution of Abbe d'Aigrigny and the Princess de Saint-Dizier; they
+had thought it more prudent to send Mrs. Grivois, on whom they could
+blindly depend, to fetch the young girls, and the confessor was charged
+to inform Frances that it was not to his housekeeper, but to a lady
+that would call on her with a note from him, that she was to deliver the
+orphans, to be taken to a religious establishment.
+
+Having knocked at the door, the waiting-woman of the Princess de Saint
+Dizier entered the room, and asked for Frances Baudoin.
+
+"She is not at home, madame," said Mother Bunch timidly, not a little
+astonished at so unexpected a visit, and casting down her eyes before
+the gaze of this woman.
+
+"Then I will wait for her, as I have important affairs to speak of,"
+answered Mrs. Grivois, examining with curiosity and attention the
+faces of the two orphans, who also cast down their eyes with an air of
+confusion.
+
+So saying, Madame Grivois sat down, not without some repugnance, in the
+old arm-chair of Dagobert's wife, and believing that she might now
+leave her favorite at liberty, she laid him carefully on the floor.
+Immediately, a low growl, deep and hollow, sounding from behind the
+armchair, made Mrs. Grivois jump from her seat, and sent the pug-dog,
+yelping with affright, and trembling through his fat, to take refuge
+close to his mistress, with all the symptoms of angry alarm.
+
+"What! is there a dog here?" cried Mrs. Grivois, stooping precipitately
+to catch up My Lord, whilst, as if he wished himself to answer
+the question, Spoil-sport rose leisurely from his place behind the
+arm-chair, and appeared suddenly, yawning and stretching himself.
+
+At sight of this powerful animal, with his double row of formidable
+pointed fangs, which he seemed to take delight in displaying as he
+opened his large jaws, Mrs. Grivois could not help giving utterance to
+a cry of terror. The snappish pug had at first trembled in all his limbs
+at the Siberian's approach; but, finding himself in safety on the lap
+of his mistress, he began to growl insolently, and to throw the most
+provoking glances at Spoil-sport. These the worthy companion of the
+deceased Jovial answered disdainfully by gaping anew; after which he
+went smelling round Mrs. Grivois with a sort of uneasiness, turned
+his back upon My Lord, and stretched himself at the feet of Rose and
+Blanche, keeping his large, intelligent eyes fixed upon them, as if he
+foresaw that they were menaced with some danger.
+
+"Turn out that beast," said Mrs. Grivois, imperiously; "he frightens my
+dog, and may do him some harm."
+
+"Do not be afraid, madame," replied Rose, with a smile; "Spoil-sport
+will do no harm, if he is not attacked."
+
+"Never mind!" cried Mrs. Grivois; "an accident soon happens. The very
+sight of that enormous dog, with his wolf's head and terrible teeth, is
+enough to make one tremble at the injuries he might do one. I tell you
+to turn him out."
+
+Mrs. Grivois had pronounced these last words in a tone of irritation,
+which did not sound at all satisfactory in Spoil-sport's ears; so he
+growled and showed his teeth, turning his head in the direction of the
+stranger.
+
+"Be quiet, Spoil-sport!" said Blanche sternly.
+
+A new personage here entered the room, and put an end to this situation,
+which was embarrassing enough for the two young girls. It was a
+commissionaire, with a letter in his hand.
+
+"What is it, sir?" asked Mother Bunch.
+
+"A very pressing letter from the good man of the house; the dyer below
+stairs told me to bring it up here."
+
+"A letter from Dagobert!" cried Rose and Blanche, with a lively
+expression of pleasure. "He is returned then? where is he?"
+
+"I do not know whether the good man is called Dagobert or not," said
+the porter; "but he is an old trooper, with a gray moustache, and may be
+found close by, at the office of the Chartres coaches."
+
+"That is he!" cried Blanche. "Give me the letter."
+
+The porter handed it to the young girl, who opened it in all haste.
+
+Mrs. Grivois was struck dumb with dismay; she knew that Dagobert had
+been decoyed from Paris, that the Abbe Dubois might have an opportunity
+to act with safety upon Frances. Hitherto, all had succeeded; the good
+woman had consented to place the young girls in the hands of a religious
+community--and now arrives this soldier, who was thought to be absent
+from Paris for two or three days at least, and whose sudden return might
+easily ruin this laborious machination, at the moment when it seemed to
+promise success.
+
+"Oh!" said Blanche, when she had read the letter. "What a misfortune!"
+
+"What is it, then, sister?" cried Rose.
+
+"Yesterday, half way to Chartres, Dagobert perceived that he had lost
+his purse. He was unable to continue his journey; he took a place upon
+credit, to return, and he asks his wife to send him some money to the
+office, to pay what he owes."
+
+"That's it," said the porter; "for the good man told me to make haste,
+because he was there in pledge."
+
+"And nothing in the house!" cried Blanche. "Dear me! what is to be
+done?"
+
+At these words, Mrs. Grivois felt her hopes revive for a moment, they
+were soon, however, dispelled by Mother Bunch, who exclaimed, as she
+pointed to the parcel she had just made up: "Be satisfied, dear young
+ladies! here is a resource. The pawnbroker's, to which I am going, is
+not far off, and I will take the money direct to M. Dagobert: in half an
+hour, at latest, he will be here."
+
+"Oh, my dear friend! you are right," said Rose. "How good you are! you
+think of everything."
+
+"And here," said Blanche, "is the letter, with the address upon it. Take
+that with you."
+
+"Thank you," answered Mother Bunch: then, addressing the porter, she
+added: "Return to the person who sent you, and tell him I shall be at
+the coach-office very shortly."
+
+"Infernal hunchback!" thought Mrs. Grivois, with suppressed rage, "she
+thinks of everything. Without her, we should have escaped the plague of
+this man's return. What is to be done now? The girls would not go with
+me, before the arrival of the soldier's wife; to propose it to them
+would expose me to a refusal, and might compromise all. Once more, what
+is to be done?"
+
+"Do not be uneasy, ladies," said the porter as he went out; "I will
+go and assure the good man, that he will not have to remain long in
+pledge."
+
+Whilst Mother Bunch was occupied in tying her parcel, in which she had
+placed the silver cup, fork, and spoon, Mrs. Grivois seemed to reflect
+deeply. Suddenly she started. Her countenance, which had been for some
+moments expressive of anxiety and rage, brightened up on the instant.
+She rose, still holding My Lord in her arms, and said to the young
+girls: "As Mrs. Baudoin does not come in, I am going to pay a visit in
+the neighborhood, and will return immediately. Pray tell her so!"
+
+With these words Mr. Grivois took her departure, a few minutes before
+Mother Bunch left.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L. APPEARANCES.
+
+After she had again endeavored to cheer up the orphans, the sewing-girl
+descended the stairs, not without difficulty, for, in addition to the
+parcel, which was already heavy, she had fetched down from her own room
+the only blanket she possessed--thus leaving herself without protection
+from the cold of her icy garret.
+
+The evening before, tortured with anxiety as to Agricola's fate, the
+girl had been unable to work; the miseries of expectation and hope
+delayed had prevented her from doing so; now another day would be lost,
+and yet it was necessary to live. Those overwhelming sorrows, which
+deprive the poor of the faculty of labor, are doubly dreaded; they
+paralyze the strength, and, with that forced cessation from toil, want
+and destitution are often added to grief.
+
+But Mother Bunch, that complete incarnation of holiest duty, had yet
+strength enough to devote herself for the service of others. Some of the
+most frail and feeble creatures are endowed with extraordinary vigor
+of soul; it would seem as if, in these weak, infirm organizations, the
+spirit reigned absolutely over the body, and knew how to inspire it with
+a factitious energy.
+
+Thus, for the last twenty-four hours, Mother Bunch had neither slept
+nor eaten; she had suffered from the cold, through the whole of a frosty
+night. In the morning she had endured great fatigue, in going, amid rain
+and snow, to the Rue de Babylone and back, twice crossing Paris and yet
+her strength was not exhausted--so immense is the power of the human
+heart!
+
+She had just arrived at the corner of the Rue Saint Mery. Since the
+recent Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy, there were stationed in this
+populous quarter of the town a much larger number of police-officers
+than usual. Now the young sempstress, though bending beneath the weight
+of her parcel, had quickened her pace almost to a run, when, just as she
+passed in front of one of the police, two five-franc pieces fell on the
+ground behind her, thrown there by a stout woman in black, who followed
+her closely.
+
+Immediately after the stout woman pointed out the two pieces to the
+policeman, and said something hastily to him with regard to Mother
+Bunch. Then she withdrew at all speed in the direction of the Rue
+Brise-Miche.
+
+The policeman, struck with what Mrs. Grivois had said to him ( for it
+was that person), picked up the money, and, running after the humpback,
+cried out to her: "Hi, there! young woman, I say--stop! stop!"
+
+On this outcry, several persons turned round suddenly and, as always
+happens in those quarters of the town, a nucleus of five or six persons
+soon grew to a considerable crowd.
+
+Not knowing that the policeman was calling to her, Mother Bunch only
+quickened her speed, wishing to get to the pawnbroker's as soon as
+possible, and trying to avoid touching any of the passers-by, so much
+did she dread the brutal and cruel railleries, to which her infirmity so
+often exposed her.
+
+Suddenly, she heard many persons running after her, and at the same
+instant a hand was laid rudely on her shoulder. It was the policeman,
+followed by another officer, who had been drawn to the spot by the
+noise. Mother Bunch turned round, struck with as much surprise as fear.
+
+She found herself in the centre of a crowd, composed chiefly of that
+hideous scum, idle and in rags, insolent and malicious, besotted with
+ignorance, brutalized by want, and always loafing about the corners.
+Workmen are scarcely ever met with in these mobs, for they are for the
+most part engaged in their daily labors.
+
+"Come, can't you hear? you are deaf as Punch's dog," said the policeman,
+seizing Mother Bunch so rudely by the arm, that she let her parcel fall
+at her feet.
+
+When the unfortunate girl, looking round in terror, saw herself exposed
+to all those insolent, mocking, malicious glances, when she beheld the
+cynical and coarse grimace on so many ignoble and filthy countenances,
+she trembled in all her limbs, and became fearfully pale. No doubt the
+policeman had spoken roughly to her; but how could he speak otherwise to
+a poor deformed girl, pale and trembling, with her features agitated
+by grief and fear--to a wretched creature, miserably clad, who wore
+in winter a thin cotton gown, soiled with mud, and wet with melted
+snow--for the poor sempstress had walked much and far that morning. So
+the policeman resumed, with great severity, following that supreme law
+of appearances which makes poverty always suspected: "Stop a bit,
+young woman! it seems you are in a mighty hurry, to let your money fall
+without picking it up."
+
+"Was her blunt hid in her hump?" said the hoarse voice of a match-boy, a
+hideous and repulsive specimen of precocious depravity.
+
+This sally was received with laughter, shouts, and hooting, which served
+to complete the sewing-girl's dismay and terror. She was hardly able to
+answer, in a feeble voice, as the policeman handed her the two pieces of
+silver: "This money, sir, is not mine."
+
+"You lie," said the other officer, approaching; "a respectable lady saw
+it drop from your pocket."
+
+"I assure you, sir, it is not so," answered Mother Bunch, trembling.
+
+"I tell you that you lie," resumed the officer; "for the lady, struck
+with your guilty and frightened air, said to me: 'Look at yonder little
+hunchback, running away with that large parcel, and letting her money
+fall without even stopping to pick it up--it is not natural.'"
+
+"Bobby," resumed the match-vendor in his hoarse voice, "be on your
+guard! Feel her hump, for that is her luggage-van. I'm sure that you'll
+find boots, and cloaks, and umbrellas, and clocks in it--for I just
+heard the hour strike in the bend of her back."
+
+Then came fresh bursts of laughter and shouts and hooting, for this
+horrible mob has no pity for those who implore and suffer. The crowd
+increased more and more, and now they indulged in hoarse cries, piercing
+whistles, and all kinds of horse play.
+
+"Let a fellow see her; it's free gratis."
+
+"Don't push so; I've paid for my place!"
+
+"Make her stand up on something, that all may have a look."
+
+"My corns are being ground: it was not worth coming."
+
+"Show her properly--or return the money."
+
+"That's fair, ain't it?"
+
+"Give it us in the 'garden' style."
+
+"Trot her out in all her paces! Kim up!"
+
+Fancy the feelings of this unfortunate creature, with her delicate
+mind, good heart, and lofty soul, and yet with so timid and nervous a
+character, as she stood alone with the two policemen in the thick of the
+crowd, and was forced to listen to all these coarse and savage insults.
+
+But the young sempstress did not yet understand of what crime she was
+accused. She soon discovered it, however, for the policeman, seizing the
+parcel which she had picked up and now held in her trembling hands, said
+to her rudely: "What is there in that bundle?"
+
+"Sir--it is--I am going--" The unfortunate girl hesitated--unable, in
+her terror, to find the word.
+
+"If that's all you have to answer," said the policeman, "it's no great
+shakes. Come, make haste! turn your bundle inside out."
+
+So saying, the policeman snatched the parcel from her, half opened it,
+and repeated, as he enumerated the divers articles it contained:
+"The devil!--sheets--a spoon and fork--a silver mug--a shawl--a
+blanket--you're a downy mot! it was not so bad a move. Dressed like a
+beggar, and with silver plate about you. Oh, yes! you're a deep 'un."
+
+"Those articles do not belong to you," said the other officer.
+
+"No, sir," replied Mother Bunch, whose strength was failing her; "but--"
+
+"Oh, vile hunchback! you have stolen more than you are big!"
+
+"Stolen!" cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands in horror, for she now
+understood it all. "Stolen!"
+
+"The guard! make way for the lobsters!" cried several persons at once.
+
+"Oh, ho! here's the lobsters!"
+
+"The fire-eaters!"
+
+"The Arab devourers!"
+
+"Come for their dromedary!"
+
+In the midst of these noisy jests, two soldiers and a corporal advanced
+with much difficulty. Their bayonets and the barrels of their guns were
+alone visible above the heads of this hideous and compact crowd. Some
+officious person had been to inform the officer at the nearest guard
+house, that a considerable crowd obstructed the public way.
+
+"Come, here is the guard--so march to the guard-house!" said the
+policeman, taking Mother Bunch by the arm.
+
+"Sir," said the poor girl, in a voice stifled by sobs, clasping her
+hands in terror, and sinking upon her knees on the pavement; "sir,--have
+pity--let me explain--"
+
+"You will explain at the guard-house; so come on!"
+
+"But, sir--I am not a thief," cried Mother Bunch, in a heart-rending
+tone; "have pity upon me--do not take me away like a thief, before all
+this crowd. Oh! mercy! mercy!"
+
+"I tell you, there will be time to explain at the guard-house. The
+street is blocked up; so come along!" Grasping the unfortunate creature
+by both her hands, he set her, as it were, on her feet again.
+
+At this instant, the corporal and his two soldiers, having succeeded
+in making their way through the crowd, approached the policeman.
+"Corporal," said the latter, "take this girl to the guard-house. I am an
+officer of the police."
+
+"Oh, gentlemen!" cried the girl, weeping hot tears, and wringing her
+hands, "do not take me away, before you let me explain myself. I am not
+a thief--indeed, indeed, I am not a thief! I will tell you--it was to
+render service to others--only let me tell you--"
+
+"I tell you, you should give your explanations at the guard-house; if
+you will not walk, we must drag you along," said the policeman.
+
+We must renounce the attempt to paint this scene, at once ignoble and
+terrible.
+
+Weak, overpowered, filled with alarm, the unfortunate girl was dragged
+along by the soldiers, her knees sinking under her at every step.
+The two police-officers had each to lend an arm to support her, and
+mechanically she accepted their assistance. Then the vociferations and
+hootings burst forth with redoubled fury. Half-swooning between the two
+men, the hapless creature seemed to drain the cup of bitterness to the
+dregs.
+
+Beneath that foggy sky, in that dirty street, under the shadow of the
+tall black houses, those hideous masses of people reminded one of the
+wildest fancies of Callot and of Goya: children in rags, drunken women,
+grim and blighted figures of men, rushed against each other, pushed,
+fought, struggled, to follow with howls and hisses an almost inanimate
+victim--the victim of a deplorable mistake.
+
+Of a mistake! How one shudders to think, that such arrests may often
+take place, founded upon nothing but the suspicion caused by the
+appearance of misery, or by some inaccurate description. Can we forget
+the case of that young girl, who, wrongfully accused of participating
+in a shameful traffic, found means to escape from the persons who were
+leading her to prison, and, rushing up the stairs of a house, threw
+herself from a window, in her despair, and was crushed to death upon the
+paving-stones?
+
+Meanwhile, after the abominable denunciation of which Mother Bunch was
+the victim, Mrs. Grivois had returned precipitately to the Rue Brise
+Miche. She ascended in haste to the fourth story, opened the door of
+Frances Baudoin's room, and saw--Dagobert in company with his wife and
+the two orphans!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI. THE CONVENT.
+
+Let us explain in a few words the presence of Dagobert. His countenance
+was impressed with such an air of military frankness that the manager
+of the coach-office would have been satisfied with his promise to return
+and pay the money; but the soldier had obstinately insisted on remaining
+in pledge, as he called it, till his wife had answered his letter.
+When, however, on the return of the porter, he found that the money was
+coming, his scruples were satisfied, and he hastened to run home.
+
+We may imagine the stupor of Mrs. Grivois, when, upon entering the
+chamber, she perceived Dagobert (whom she easily recognized by the
+description she had heard of him) seated beside his wife and the
+orphans. The anxiety of Frances at sight of Mrs. Grivois was equally
+striking. Rose and Blanche had told her of the visit of a lady, during
+her absence, upon important business; and, judging by the information
+received from her confessor, Frances had no doubt that this was the
+person charged to conduct the orphans to a religious establishment.
+
+Her anxiety was terrible. Resolved to follow the counsels of Abbe
+Dubois, she dreaded lest a word from Mrs. Grivois should put Dagobert on
+the scent--in which case all would be lost, and the orphans would
+remain in their present state of ignorance and mortal sin, for which she
+believed herself responsible.
+
+Dagobert, who held the hands of Rose and Blanche, left his seat as the
+Princess de Saint-Dizier's waiting-woman entered the room and cast an
+inquiring glance on Frances.
+
+The moment was critical--nay, decisive; but Mrs. Grivois had profited by
+the example of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. So, taking her resolution
+at once, and turning to account the precipitation with which she had
+mounted the stairs, after the odious charge she had brought against poor
+Mother Bunch, and even the emotion caused by the unexpected sight of
+Dagobert, which gave to her features an expression of uneasiness and
+alarm--she exclaimed, in an agitated voice, after the moment's silence
+necessary to collect her thoughts: "Oh, madame! I have just been the
+spectator of a great misfortune. Excuse my agitation! but I am so
+excited--"
+
+"Dear me! what is the matter?" said Frances, in a trembling voice, for
+she dreaded every moment some indiscretion on the part of Mrs. Grivois.
+
+"I called just now," resumed the other, "to speak to you on some
+important business; whilst I was waiting for you, a poor young woman,
+rather deformed, put up sundry articles in a parcel--"
+
+"Yes," said Frances; "it was Mother Bunch, an excellent, worthy
+creature."
+
+"I thought as much, madame; well, you shall hear what has happened. As
+you did not come in, I resolved to pay a visit in the neighborhood. I go
+out, and get as far as the Rue St. Mery, when--Oh, madame!"
+
+"Well?" said Dagobert, "what then?"
+
+"I see a crowd--I inquire what is the matter--I learn that a policeman
+has just arrested a young girl as a thief, because she had been seen
+carrying a bundle, composed of different articles which did not appear
+to belong to her--I approached--what do I behold?--the same young woman
+that I had met just before in this room."
+
+"Oh! the poor child!" exclaimed Frances, growing pale, and clasping her
+hands together. "What a dreadful thing!"
+
+"Explain, then," said Dagobert to his wife. "What was in this bundle?"
+
+"Well, my dear--to confess the truth--I was a little short, and I asked
+our poor friend to take some things for me to the pawnbroker's--"
+
+"What! and they thought she had robbed us!" cried Dagobert; "she,
+the most honest girl in the world! it is dreadful--you ought to have
+interfered, madame; you ought to have said that you knew her."
+
+"I tried to do so, sir; but, unfortunately, they would not hear me. The
+crowd increased every moment, till the guard came up, and carried her
+off."
+
+"She might die of it, she is so sensitive and timid!" exclaimed Frances.
+
+"Ah, good Mother Bunch! so gentle! so considerate!" said Blanche,
+turning with tearful eyes towards her sister.
+
+"Not being able to help her," resumed Mrs. Grivois "I hastened hither
+to inform you of this misadventure--which may, indeed, easily be
+repaired--as it will only be necessary to go and claim the young girl as
+soon as possible."
+
+At these words, Dagobert hastily seized his hat, and said abruptly to
+Mrs. Grivois: "Zounds, madame! you should have begun by telling us that.
+Where is the poor child? Do you know?"
+
+"I do not, sir; but there are still so many excited people in the street
+that, if you will have the kindness to step out, you will be sure to
+learn."
+
+"Why the devil do you talk of kindness? It is my duty, madame. Poor
+child!" repeated Dagobert. "Taken up as a thief!--it is really horrible.
+I will go to the guard-house, and to the commissary of police for this
+neighborhood, and, by hook or crook, I will find her, and have her out,
+and bring her home with me."
+
+So saying, Dagobert hastily departed. Frances, now that she felt more
+tranquil as to the fate of Mother Bunch, thanked the Lord that this
+circumstance had obliged her husband to go out, for his presence at this
+juncture caused her a terrible embarrassment.
+
+Mrs. Grivois had left My Lord in the coach below, for the moments were
+precious. Casting a significant glance at Frances she handed her Abbe
+Dubois' letter, and said to her, with strong emphasis on every word:
+"You will see by this letter, madame, what was the object of my visit,
+which I have not before been able to explain to you, but on which I
+truly congratulate myself, as it brings me into connection with these
+two charming young ladies." Rose and Blanche looked at each other in
+surprise. Frances took the letter with a trembling hand. It required all
+the pressing and threatening injunctions of her confessor to conquer
+the last scruples of the poor woman, for she shuddered at the thought of
+Dagobert's terrible indignation. Moreover, in her simplicity, she knew
+not how to announce to the young girls that they were to accompany this
+lady.
+
+Mrs. Grivois guessed her embarrassment, made a sign to her to be at her
+ease, and said to Rose, whilst Frances was reading the letter of her
+confessor: "How happy your relation will be to see you, my dear young
+lady!'
+
+"Our relation, madame?" said Rose, more and more astonished.
+
+"Certainly. She knew of your arrival here, but, as she is still
+suffering from the effects of a long illness, she was not able to come
+herself to-day, and has sent me to fetch you to her. Unfortunately,"
+added Mrs. Grivois, perceiving a movement of uneasiness on the part of
+the two sisters, "it will not be in her power, as she tells Mrs. Baudoin
+in her letter, to see you for more than a very short time--so you may
+be back here in about an hour. But to-morrow or the next day after,
+she will be well enough to leave home, and then she will come and make
+arrangements with Mrs. Baudoin and her husband, to take you into her
+house--for she could not bear to leave you at the charge of the worthy
+people who have been so kind to you."
+
+These last words of Mrs. Grivois made a favorable impression upon the
+two sisters, and banished their fears of becoming a heavy burden to
+Dagobert's family. If it had been proposed to them to quit altogether
+the house in the Rue Bris-Miche, without first asking the consent of
+their old friend, they would certainly have hesitated; but Mrs. Grivois
+had only spoken of an hour's visit. They felt no suspicion, therefore,
+and Rose said to Frances: "We may go and see our relation, I suppose,
+madame, without waiting for Dagobert's return?"
+
+"Certainly," said Frances, in a feeble voice, "since you are to be back
+almost directly."
+
+"Then, madame, I would beg these dear young ladies to come with me as
+soon as possible, as I should like to bring them back before noon.
+
+"We are ready, madame," said Rose.
+
+"Well then, young ladies, embrace your second mother, and come," said
+Mrs. Grivois, who was hardly able to control her uneasiness, for she
+trembled lest Dagobert should return from one moment to the other.
+
+Rose and Blanche embraced Frances, who, clasping in her arms the two
+charming and innocent creatures that she was about to deliver up, could
+with difficulty restrain her tears, though she was fully convinced that
+she was acting for their salvation.
+
+"Come, young ladies," said Mrs. Grivois, in the most affable tone, "let
+us make haste--you will excuse my impatience, I am sure--but it is in
+the name of your relation that I speak."
+
+Having once more tenderly kissed the wife of Dagobert, the sisters
+quitted the room hand in hand, and descended the staircase close
+behind Mrs. Grivois, followed (without their being aware of it), by
+Spoil-sport. The intelligent animal cautiously watched their movements,
+for, in the absence of his master, he never let them out of his sight.
+
+For greater security, no doubt, the waiting-woman of Madame de Saint
+Dizier had ordered the hackney-coach to wait for her at a little
+distance from the Rue Brise-Miche, in the cloister square. In a few
+seconds, the orphans and their conductress reached the carriage.
+
+"Oh, missus!" said the coachman, opening the door; "no offence, I
+hope--but you have the most ill-tempered rascal of a dog! Since you put
+him into my coach, he has never ceased howling like a roasted cat,
+and looks as if he would eat us all up alive!" In fact, My Lord, who
+detested solitude, was yelling in the most deplorable manner.
+
+"Be quiet, My Lord! here I am," said Mrs. Grivois; then addressing the
+two sisters, she added: "Pray, get in, my dear young ladies."
+
+Rose and Blanche got into the coach. Before she followed them, Mrs.
+Grivois was giving to the coachman in a low voice the direction to St.
+Mary's Convent, and was adding other instructions, when suddenly the pug
+dog, who had growled savagely when the sisters took their seats in
+the coach, began to bark with fury. The cause of this anger was clear
+enough; Spoil-sport, until now unperceived, had with one bound entered
+the carriage.
+
+The pug, exasperated by this boldness, forgetting his ordinary prudence,
+and excited to the utmost by rage and ugliness of temper, sprang at his
+muzzle, and bit him so cruelly, that, in his turn, the brave Siberian
+dog, maddened by the pain, threw himself upon the teaser, seized him
+by the throat, and fairly strangled him with two grips of his powerful
+jaws--as appeared by one stifled groan of the pug, previously half
+suffocated with fat.
+
+All this took place in less time than is occupied by the description.
+Rose and Blanche had hardly opportunity to exclaim twice: "Here, Spoil
+sport! down!"
+
+"Oh, good gracious!" said Mrs. Grivois, turning round at the noise.
+"There again is that monster of a dog--he will certainly hurt my love.
+Send him away, young ladies--make him get down--it is impossible to take
+him with us."
+
+Ignorant of the degree of Spoil-sport's criminality, for his paltry foe
+was stretched lifeless under a seat, the young girls yet felt that it
+would be improper to take the dog with them, and they therefore said to
+him in an angry tone, at the same time slightly touching him with their
+feet: "Get down, Spoil-sport! go away!"
+
+The faithful animal hesitated at first to obey this order. Sad and
+supplicatingly looked he at the orphans, and with an air of mild
+reproach, as if blaming them for sending away their only defender. But,
+upon the stern repetition of the command, he got down from the coach,
+with his tail between his legs, feeling perhaps that he had been
+somewhat over-hasty with regard to the pug.
+
+Mrs. Grivois, who was in a great hurry to leave that quarter of the
+town, seated herself with precipitation in the carriage; the coachman
+closed the door, and mounted his box; and then the coach started at a
+rapid rate, whilst Mrs. Grivois prudently let down the blinds, for fear
+of meeting Dagobert by the way.
+
+Having taken these indispensable precautions, she was able to turn her
+attention to her pet, whom she loved with all that deep, exaggerated
+affection, which people of a bad disposition sometimes entertain for
+animals, as if then concentrated and lavished upon them all those
+feelings in which they are deficient with regard to their fellow
+creatures. In a word. Mrs. Grivois was passionately attached to this
+peevish, cowardly, spiteful dog, partly perhaps from a secret sympathy
+with his vices. This attachment had lasted for six years, and only
+seemed to increase as My Lord advanced in age.
+
+We have laid some stress on this apparently puerile detail, because the
+most trifling causes have often disastrous effects, and because we wish
+the reader to understand what must have been the despair, fury, and
+exasperation of this woman, when she discovered the death of her dog--a
+despair, a fury, and an exasperation, of which the orphans might yet
+feel the cruel consequences.
+
+The hackney-coach had proceeded rapidly for some seconds, when Mrs.
+Grivois, who was seated with her back to the horses, called My Lord. The
+dog had very good reasons for not replying.
+
+"Well, you sulky beauty!" said Mrs. Grivois, soothingly; "you have taken
+offence, have you? It was not my fault if that great ugly dog came into
+the coach, was it, young ladies? Come and kiss your mistress, and let us
+make peace, old obstinate!"
+
+The same obstinate silence continued on the part of the canine noble.
+Rose and Blanche began to look anxiously at each other, for they knew
+that Spoil-sport was somewhat rough in his ways, though they were far
+from suspecting what had really happened. But Mrs. Grivois, rather
+surprised than uneasy at her pug-log's insensibility to her affectionate
+appeals, and believing him to be sullenly crouching beneath the seat,
+stooped clown to take him up, and feeling one of his paws, drew it
+impatiently towards her whilst she said to him in a half-jesting, half
+angry tone: "Come, naughty fellow! you will give a pretty notion of your
+temper to these young ladies."
+
+So saying, she took up the dog, much astonished at his unresisting
+torpor; but what was her fright, when, having placed him upon her lap,
+she saw that he was quite motionless.
+
+"An apoplexy!" cried she. "The dear creature ate too much--I was always
+afraid of it."
+
+Turning round hastily, she exclaimed: "Stop, coachman! stop!" without
+reflecting that the coachman could not hear her. Then raising the cur's
+head, still thinking that he was only in a fit, she perceived with
+horror the bloody holes imprinted by five or six sharp fangs, which left
+no doubt of the cause of his deplorable end.
+
+Her first impulse was one of grief and despair. "Dead!" she exclaimed;
+"dead! and already cold! Oh, goodness!" And this woman burst into tears.
+
+The tears of the wicked are ominous. For a bad man to weep, he must
+have suffered much; and, with him, the reaction of suffering, instead of
+softening the soul, inflames it to a dangerous anger.
+
+Thus, after yielding to that first painful emotion, the mistress of My
+Lord felt herself transported with rage and hate--yes, hate--violent
+hate for the young girls, who had been the involuntary cause of the
+dog's death. Her countenance so plainly betrayed her resentment, that
+Blanche and Rose were frightened at the expression of her face, which
+had now grown purple with fury, as with agitated voice and wrathful
+glance she exclaimed: "It was your dog that killed him!"
+
+"Oh, madame!" said Rose; "we had nothing to do with it."
+
+"It was your dog that bit Spoil-sport first," added Blanche, in a
+plaintive voice.
+
+The look of terror impressed on the features of the orphans recalled
+Mrs. Grivois to herself. She saw the fatal consequences that might arise
+from yielding imprudently to her anger. For the very sake of vengeance,
+she had to restrain herself, in order not to awaken suspicion in the
+minds of Marshal Simon's daughters. But not to appear to recover too
+soon from her first impression, she continued for some minutes to cast
+irritated glances at the young girls; then, little by little, her anger
+seemed to give way to violent grief; she covered her face with her
+hands, heaved a long sigh, and appeared to weep bitterly.
+
+"Poor lady!" whispered Rose to Blanche. "How she weeps!--No doubt, she
+loved her dog as much as we love Spoil-sport."
+
+"Alas! yes," replied Blanche. "We also wept when our old Jovial was
+killed."
+
+After a few minutes, Mrs. Grivois raised her head, dried her eyes
+definitively, and said in a gentle, and almost affectionate voice:
+"Forgive me, young ladies! I was unable to repress the first movement
+of irritation, or rather of deep sorrow--for I was tenderly attached to
+this poor dog he has never left me for six years."
+
+"We are very sorry for this misfortune, madame," resumed Rose; "and we
+regret it the more, that it seems to be irreparable."
+
+"I was just saying to my sister, that we can the better fancy your
+grief, as we have had to mourn the death of our old horse, that carried
+us all the way from Siberia."
+
+"Well, my dear young ladies, let us think no more about it. It was
+my fault; I should not have brought him with me; but he was always so
+miserable, whenever I left him. You will make allowance for my weakness.
+A good heart feels for animals as well as people; so I must trust to
+your sensibility to excuse my hastiness."
+
+"Do not think of it, madame; it is only your grief that afflicts us."
+
+"I shall get over it, my dear young ladies--I shall get over it. The joy
+of the meeting between you and your relation will help to console
+me. She will be so happy. You are so charming! and then the singular
+circumstance of your exact likeness to each other adds to the interest
+you inspire."
+
+"You are too kind to us, madame."
+
+"Oh, no--I am sure you resemble each other as much in disposition as in
+face."
+
+"That is quite natural, madame," said Rose, "for since our birth we have
+never left each other a minute, whether by night or day. It would be
+strange, if we were not like in character."
+
+"Really, my dear young ladies! you have never left each other a minute?"
+
+"Never, madame." The sisters joined hands with an expressive smile.
+
+"Then, how unhappy you would be, and how much to be pitied, if ever you
+were separated."
+
+"Oh, madame! it is impossible," said Blanche, smiling.
+
+"How impossible?"
+
+"Who would have the heart to separate us?"
+
+"No doubt, my dear young ladies, it would be very cruel."
+
+"Oh, madame," resumed Blanche, "even very wicked people would not think
+of separating us."
+
+"So much the better, my dear young ladies--pray, why?"
+
+"Because it would cause us too much grief."
+
+"Because it would kill us."
+
+"Poor little dears!"
+
+"Three months ago, we were shut up in prison. Well when the governor of
+the prison saw us, though he looked a very stern man, he could not help
+saying: 'It would be killing these children to separate them;' and so we
+remained together, and were as happy as one can be in prison."
+
+"It shows your excellent heart, and also that of the persons who knew
+how to appreciate it."
+
+The carriage stopped, and they heard the coachman call out "Any one at
+the gate there?"
+
+"Oh! here we are at your relation's," said Mrs. Grivois. Two wings of a
+gate flew open, and the carriage rolled over the gravel of a court-yard.
+
+Mrs. Grivois having drawn up one of the blinds, they found themselves in
+a vast court, across the centre of which ran a high wall, with a kind
+of porch upon columns, under which was a little door. Behind this wall,
+they could see the upper part of a very large building in freestone.
+Compared with the house in the Rue Brise-Miche, this building appeared
+a palace; so Blanche said to Mrs. Grivois, with an expression of artless
+admiration: "Dear me, madame, what a fine residence!"
+
+"That is nothing," replied Madame Grivois; "wait till you see the
+interior, which is much finer."
+
+When the coachman opened the door of the carriage, what was the rage of
+Mrs. Grivois, and the surprise of the girls, to see Spoil-sport, who
+had been clever enough to follow the coach. Pricking up his ears, and
+wagging his tail, he seemed to have forgotten his late offences, and to
+expect to be praised for his intelligent fidelity.
+
+"What!" cried Mrs. Grivois, whose sorrows were renewed at the sight;
+"has that abominable dog followed the coach?"
+
+"A famous dog, mum," answered the coachman "he never once left the heels
+of my horses. He must have been trained to it. He's a powerful beast,
+and two men couldn't scare him. Look at the throat of him now!"
+
+The mistress of the deceased pug, enraged at the somewhat unseasonable
+praises bestowed upon the Siberian, said to the orphans, "I will
+announce your arrival, wait for me an instant in the coach."
+
+So saying, she went with a rapid step towards the porch, and rang the
+bell. A woman, clad in a monastic garb, appeared at the door, and bowed
+respectfully to Mrs. Grivois, who addressed her in these few words, "I
+have brought you the two young girls; the orders of Abbe d'Aigrigny and
+the princess are, that they be instantly separated, and kept apart in
+solitary cells--you understand, sister--and subjected to the rule for
+impenitents."
+
+"I will go and inform the superior, and it will be done," said the
+portress, with another bend.
+
+"Now, will you come, my dear young ladies?" resumed Mrs. Grivois,
+addressing the two girls, who had secretly bestowed a few caresses upon
+Spoil sport, so deeply were they touched by his instinctive attachment;
+"you will be introduced to your relation, and I will return and fetch
+you in half an hour. Coachman keep that dog back."
+
+Rose and Blanche, in getting out of the coach, were so much occupied
+with Spoil-sport, that they did not perceive the portress, who was half
+hidden behind the little door. Neither did they remark, that the person
+who was to introduce them was dressed as a nun, till, taking them by
+the hand, she had led them across the threshold, when the door was
+immediately closed behind them.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Grivois had seen the orphans safe into the convent, she
+told the coachman to leave the court-yard, and wait for her at the
+outer gate. The coachman obeyed; but Spoil-sport, who had seen Rose and
+Blanche enter by the little door, ran to it, and remained there.
+
+Mrs. Grivois then called the porter of the main entrance, a tall,
+vigorous fellow and said to him: "Here are ten francs for you, Nicholas,
+if you will beat out the brains of that great dog, who is crouching
+under the porch."
+
+Nicholas shook his head, as he observed Spoil-sport's size and strength.
+"Devil take me, madame!" said he; "'tis not so easy to tackle a dog of
+that build."
+
+"I will give you twenty francs; only kill him before me."
+
+"One ought to have a gun, and I have only an iron hammer."
+
+"That will do; you can knock him down at a blow."
+
+"Well, madame--I will try--but I have my doubts." And Nicholas went to
+fetch his mallet.
+
+"Oh! if I had the strength!" said Mrs. Grivois.
+
+The porter returned with his weapon, and advanced slowly and
+treacherously towards Spoil-sport, who was still crouching beneath the
+porch. "Here, old fellow! here, my good dog!" said Nicholas striking
+his left hand on his thigh, and keeping his right behind him, with the
+crowbar grasped in it.
+
+Spoil-sport rose, examined Nicholas attentively, and no doubt perceiving
+by his manner that the porter meditated some evil design, bounded away
+from him, outflanked the enemy, saw clearly what was intended, and kept
+himself at a respectful distance.
+
+"He smells a rat," said Nicholas; "the rascal's on his guard. He will
+not let me come near him. It's no go."
+
+"You are an awkward fellow," said Mrs. Grivois in a passion, as she
+threw a five-franc piece to Nicholas: "at all events, drive him away."
+
+"That will be easier than to kill him, madame," said the porter. Indeed,
+finding himself pursued, and conscious probably that it would be useless
+to attempt an open resistance, Spoil-sport fled from the court-yard into
+the street; but once there, he felt himself, as it were, upon neutral
+ground, and notwithstanding all the threats of Nicholas, refused to
+withdraw an inch further than just sufficient to keep out of reach of
+the sledge-hammer. So that when Mrs. Grivois, pale with rage, again
+stepped into her hackney-coach, in which were My Lord's lifeless
+remains, she saw with the utmost vexation that Spoil-sport was lying at
+a few steps from the gate, which Nicholas had just closed, having given
+up the chase in despair.
+
+The Siberian dog, sure of finding his way back to the Rue Brise-Miche,
+had determined, with the sagacity peculiar to his race, to wait for the
+orphans on the spot where he then was.
+
+Thus were the two sisters confined in St. Mary's Convent, which, as we
+have already said, was next door to the lunatic asylum in which Adrienne
+de Cardoville was immured.
+
+We now conduct the reader to the dwelling of Dagobert's wife, who was
+waiting with dreadful anxiety for the return of her husband, knowing
+that he would call her to account for the disappearance of Marshal
+Simon's daughters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII. THE INFLUENCE OF A CONFESSOR.
+
+Hardly had the orphans quitted Dagobert's wife, when the poor woman,
+kneeling down, began to pray with fervor. Her tears, long restrained,
+now flowed abundantly; notwithstanding her sincere conviction that she
+had performed a religious duty in delivering up the girl's she waited
+with extreme fear her husband's return. Though blinded by her pious
+zeal, she could not hide from herself, that Dagobert would have good
+reason to be angry; and then this poor mother had also, under these
+untoward circumstances, to tell him of Agricola's arrest.
+
+Every noise upon the stairs made Frances start with trembling anxiety;
+after which, she would resume her fervent prayers, supplicating strength
+to support this new and arduous trial. At length, she heard a step
+upon the landing-place below, and, feeling sure this time that it was
+Dagobert, she hastily seated herself, dried her tears, and taking a
+sack of coarse cloth upon her lap, appeared to be occupied with
+sewing--though her aged hands trembled so much, that she could hardly
+hold the needle.
+
+After some minutes the door opened, and Dagobert appeared. The soldier's
+rough countenance was stern and sad; as he entered, he flung his hat
+violently upon the table, so full of painful thought, that he did not at
+first perceive the absence of the orphans.
+
+"Poor girl!" cried he. "It is really terrible!"
+
+"Didst see Mother Bunch? didst claim her?" said Frances hastily,
+forgetting for a moment her own fears.
+
+"Yes, I have seen her--but in what a state--twas enough to break one's
+heart. I claimed her, and pretty loud too, I can tell you; but they said
+to me, that the commissary must first come to our place in order--"
+here Dagobert paused, threw a glance of surprise round the room, and
+exclaimed abruptly: "Where are the children?"
+
+Frances felt herself seized with an icy shudder. "My dear," she began in
+a feeble voice--but she was unable to continue.
+
+"Where are Rose and Blanche! Answer me then! And Spoil-sport, who is not
+here either!"
+
+"Do not be angry."
+
+"Come," said Dagobert, abruptly, "I see you have let them go out with a
+neighbor--why not have accompanied them yourself, or let them wait for
+me, if they wished to take a walk; which is natural enough, this room
+being so dull. But I am astonished that they should have gone out before
+they had news of good Mother Bunch--they have such kind hearts. But how
+pale you are?" added the soldier looking nearer at Frances; "what is the
+matter, my poor wife? Are you ill?"
+
+Dagobert took Frances's hand affectionately in his own but the latter,
+painfully agitated by these words, pronounced with touching goodness,
+bowed her head and wept as she kissed her husband's hand. The soldier,
+growing more and more uneasy as he felt the scalding tears of his wife,
+exclaimed: "You weep, you do not answer--tell me, then, the cause of
+your grief, poor wife! Is it because I spoke a little loud, in asking
+you how you could let the dear children go out with a neighbor? Remember
+their dying mother entrusted them to my care--'tis sacred, you see--and
+with them, I am like an old hen after her chickens," added he, laughing
+to enliven Frances.
+
+"Yes, you are right in loving them!"
+
+"Come, then--becalm--you know me of old. With my great, hoarse voice,
+I am not so bad a fellow at bottom. As you can trust to this neighbor,
+there is no great harm done; but, in future, my good Frances, do not
+take any step with regard to the children without consulting me. They
+asked, I suppose, to go out for a little stroll with Spoil-sport?"
+
+"No, my dear!"
+
+"No! Who is this neighbor, to whom you have entrusted them? Where has
+she taken them? What time will she bring them back?"
+
+"I do not know," murmured Frances, in a failing voice.
+
+"You do not know!" cried Dagobert, with indignation; but restraining
+himself, he added, in a tone of friendly reproach: "You do not know? You
+cannot even fix an hour, or, better still, not entrust them to any one?
+The children must have been very anxious to go out. They knew that I
+should return at any moment, so why not wait for me--eh, Frances? I ask
+you, why did they not wait for me? Answer me, will you!--Zounds! you
+would make a saint swear!" cried Dagobert, stamping his foot; "answer
+me, I say!"
+
+The courage of Frances was fast failing. These pressing and reiterated
+questions, which might end by the discovery of the truth, made her
+endure a thousand slow and poignant tortures. She preferred coming
+at once to the point, and determined to bear the full weight of her
+husband's anger, like a humble and resigned victim, obstinately faithful
+to the promise she had sworn to her confessor.
+
+Not having the strength to rise, she bowed her head, allowed her arms to
+fall on either side of the chair, and said to her husband in a tone of
+the deepest despondency: "Do with me what you will--but do not ask what
+is become of the children--I cannot answer you."
+
+If a thunderbolt had fallen at the feet of the soldier, he would not
+have been more violently, more deeply moved; he became deadly pale; his
+bald forehead was covered with cold sweat; with fixed and staring look,
+he remained for some moments motionless, mute, and petrified. Then, as
+if roused with a start from this momentary torpor, and filled with a
+terrific energy, he seized his wife by the shoulders, lifted her like
+a feather, placed her on her feet before him, and, leaning over her,
+exclaimed in a tone of mingled fury and despair: "The children!"
+
+"Mercy! mercy!" gasped Frances, in a faint voice.
+
+"Where are the children?" repeated Dagobert, as he shook with his
+powerful hands that poor frail body, and added in a voice of thunder:
+"Will you answer? the children!"
+
+"Kill me, or forgive me, I cannot answer you," replied the unhappy
+woman, with that inflexible, yet mild obstinacy, peculiar to timid
+characters, when they act from convictions of doing right.
+
+"Wretch!" cried the soldier; wild with rage, grief, despair, he lifted
+up his wife as if he would have dashed her upon the floor--but he was
+too brave a man to commit such cowardly cruelty, and, after that first
+burst of involuntary fury, he let her go.
+
+Overpowered, Frances sank upon her knees, clasped her hands, and, by the
+faint motion of her lips, it was clear that she was praying. Dagobert
+had then a moment of stunning giddiness; his thoughts wandered; what had
+just happened was so sudden, so incomprehensible that it required some
+minutes to convince himself that his wife (that angel of goodness, whose
+life had been one course of heroic self-devotion, and who knew what the
+daughters of Marshal Simon were to him) should say to him: "Do not ask
+me about them--I cannot answer you."
+
+The firmest, the strongest mind would have been shaken by this
+inexplicable fact. But, when the soldier had a little recovered himself,
+he began to look coolly at the circumstances, and reasoned thus sensibly
+with himself: "My wife alone can explain to me this inconceivable
+mystery--I do not mean either to beat or kill her--let us try every
+possibly method, therefore, to induce her to speak, and above all, let
+me try to control myself."
+
+He took a chair, handed another to his wife, who was still on her
+knees, and said to her: "Sit down." With an air of the utmost dejection,
+Frances obeyed.
+
+"Listen to me, wife," resumed Dagobert in a broken voice, interrupted
+by involuntary starts, which betrayed the boiling impatience he
+could hardly restrain. "Understand me--this cannot pass over in this
+manner--you know. I will never use violence towards you--just now, I
+gave way to a first moment of hastiness--I am sorry for it. Be sure, I
+shall not do so again: but, after all, I must know what has become of
+these children. Their mother entrusted them to my care, and I did not
+bring them all the way from Siberia, for you to say to me: 'Do not ask
+me--I cannot tell you what I have done with them.' There is no reason in
+that. Suppose Marshal Simon were to arrive, and say to me, 'Dagobert,
+my children?' what answer am I to give him? See, I am calm--judge
+for yourself--I am calm--but just put yourself in my place, and tell
+me--what answer am I to give to the marshal? Well--what say you! Will
+you speak!"
+
+"Alas! my dear--"
+
+"It is of no use crying alas!" said the soldier wiping his forehead,
+on which the veins were swollen as if they would burst; "what am I to
+answer to the marshal?"
+
+"Accuse me to him--I will bear it all--I will say--"
+
+"What will you say?"
+
+"That, on going out, you entrusted the two girls to me, and that not
+finding them on return you asked be about them--and that my answer was,
+that I could not tell you what had become of them."
+
+"And you think the marshal will be satisfied with such reasons?" cried
+Dagobert, clinching his fists convulsively upon his knees.
+
+"Unfortunately, I can give no other--either to him or you--no--not if I
+were to die for it."
+
+Dagobert bounded from his chair at this answer, which was given with
+hopeless resignation. His patience was exhausted; but determined not to
+yield to new bursts of anger, or to spend his breath in useless menaces,
+he abruptly opened one of the windows, and exposed his burning forehead
+to the cool air. A little calmer, he walked up and down for a few
+moments, and then returned to seat himself beside his wife. She, with
+her eyes bathed in tears, fixed her gaze upon the crucifix, thinking
+that she also had to bear a heavy cross.
+
+Dagobert resumed: "By the manner in which you speak, I see that no
+accident has happened, which might endanger the health of the children."
+
+"No, oh no! thank God, they are quite well--that is all I can say to
+you."
+
+"Did they go out alone?"
+
+"I cannot answer you."
+
+"Has any one taken them away?"
+
+"Alas, my dear! why ask me these questions? I cannot answer you."
+
+"Will they come back here?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+Dagobert started up; his patience was once more exhausted. But, after
+taking a few turns in the room, he again seated himself as before.
+
+"After all," said he to his wife, "you have no interest to conceal from
+me what is become of the children. Why refuse to let me know?"
+
+"I cannot do otherwise."
+
+"I think you will change your opinion, when you know something that I
+am now forced to tell you. Listen to me well!" added Dagobert, in an
+agitated voice; "if these children are not restored to me before the
+13th of February--a day close at hand--I am in the position of a
+man that would rob the daughters of Marshal Simon--rob them, d'ye
+understand?" said the soldier, becoming more and more agitated. Then,
+with an accent of despair which pierced Frances's heart, he continued:
+"And yet I have done all that an honest man could do for those poor
+children--you cannot tell what I have had to suffer on the road--my
+cares, my anxieties--I, a soldier, with the charge of two girls. It was
+only by strength of heart, by devotion, that I could go through with
+it--and when, for my reward, I hoped to be able to say to their father:
+'Here are your children!--'" The soldier paused. To the violence of his
+first emotions had succeeded a mournful tenderness; he wept.
+
+At sight of the tears rolling slowly down Dagobert's gray moustache,
+Frances felt for a moment her resolution give way; but, recalling
+the oath which she had made to her confessor, and reflecting that the
+eternal salvation of the orphans was at stake, she reproached herself
+inwardly with this evil temptation, which would no doubt be severely
+blamed by Abbe Dubois. She answered, therefore, in a trembling voice:
+"How can they accuse you of robbing these children?"
+
+"Know," resumed Dagobert, drawing his hand across his eyes, "that if
+these young girls have braved so many dangers, to come hither, all the
+way from Siberia, it is that great interests are concerned--perhaps
+an immense fortune--and that, if they are not present on the 13th
+February--here, in Paris, Rue Saint Francois--all will be lost--and
+through my fault--for I am responsible for your actions."
+
+"The 13th February? Rue Saint Francois?" cried Frances, looking at her
+husband with surprise. "Like Gabriel!"
+
+"What do you say about Gabriel?"
+
+"When I took him in (poor deserted child!), he wore a bronze medal about
+his neck."
+
+"A bronze medal!" cried the soldier, struck with amazement; "a bronze
+medal with these words, 'At Paris you will be, the 13th of February,
+1832, Rue Saint Francois?"
+
+"Yes--how do you know?"
+
+"Gabriel, too!" said the soldier speaking to himself. Then he added
+hastily: "Does Gabriel know that this medal was found upon him?"
+
+"I spoke to him of it at some time. He had also about him a portfolio,
+filled with papers in a foreign tongue. I gave them to Abbe Dubois, my
+confessor, to look over. He told me afterwards, that they were of little
+consequence; and, at a later period, when a charitable person named
+M. Rodin, undertook the education of Gabriel, and to get him into the
+seminary, Abbe Dubois handed both papers and medal to him. Since then, I
+have heard nothing of them."
+
+When Frances spoke of her confessor a sudden light flashed across the
+mind of the soldier, though he was far from suspecting the machinations
+which had so long been at work with regard to Gabriel and the orphans.
+But he had a vague feeling that his wife was acting in obedience to some
+secret influence of the confessional--an influence of which he could
+not understand the aim or object, but which explained, in part at least,
+Frances's inconceivable obstinacy with regard to the disappearance of
+the orphans.
+
+After a moment's reflection, he rose, and said sternly to his wife,
+looking fixedly at her: "There is a priest at the bottom of all this."
+
+"What do you mean, my dear?"
+
+"You have no interest to conceal these children. You are one of the best
+of women. You see that I suffer; if you only were concerned, you would
+have pity upon me."
+
+"My dear--"
+
+"I tell you, all this smacks of the confessional," resumed Dagobert.
+"You would sacrifice me and these children to your confessor; but take
+care--I shall find out where he lives--and a thousand thunders! I will
+go and ask him who is master in my house, he or I--and if he does
+not answer," added the soldier, with a threatening expression of
+countenance, "I shall know how to make him speak."
+
+"Gracious heaven!" cried Frances, clasping her hands in horror at these
+sacrilegious words; "remember he is a priest!"
+
+"A priest, who causes discord, treachery, and misfortune in my house, is
+as much of a wretch as any other; whom I have a right to call to account
+for the evil he does to me and mine. Therefore, tell me immediately
+where are the children--or else, I give you fair warning, I will go and
+demand them of the confessor. Some crime is here hatching, of which
+you are an accomplice without knowing it, unhappy woman! Well, I prefer
+having to do with another than you."
+
+"My dear," said Frances, in a mild, firm voice, "you cannot think to
+impose by violence on a venerable man, who for twenty years has had the
+care of my soul. His age alone should be respected."
+
+"No age shall prevent me!"
+
+"Heavens! where are you going? You alarm me!"
+
+"I am going to your church. They must know you there--I will ask for
+your confessor--and we shall see!"
+
+"I entreat you, my dear," cried Frances, throwing herself in a fright
+before Dagobert, who was hastening towards the door; "only think, to
+what you will expose yourself! Heavens! insult a priest? Why, it is one
+of the reserved cases!"
+
+These last words, which appeared most alarming to the simplicity of
+Dagobert's wife, did not make any impression upon the soldier. He
+disengaged himself from her grasp, and was going to rush out bareheaded,
+so high was his exasperation, when the door opened, and the commissary
+of police entered, followed by Mother Bunch and a policeman, carrying
+the bundle which he had taken from the young girl.
+
+"The commissary!" cried Dagobert, who recognized him by his official
+scarf. "Ah! so much the better--he could not have come at a fitter
+moment."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII. THE EXAMINATION.
+
+"Mistress Frances Baudoin?" asked the magistrate.
+
+"Yes, sir--it is I," said Frances. Then, perceiving the pale and
+trembling sewing-girl, who did not dare to come forward, she stretched
+out her arms to her. "Oh, my poor child!" she exclaimed, bursting into
+tears; "forgive--forgive us--since it is for our sake you have suffered
+this humiliation!"
+
+When Dagobert's wife had tenderly embraced the young sempstress, the
+latter, turning towards the commissary, said to him with an expression
+of sad and touching dignity: "You see, sir, that I am not a thief."
+
+"Madame," said the magistrate, addressing Frances, "am I to understand
+that the silver mug, the shawl, the sheets contained in this bundle--"
+
+"Belong to me, sir. It was to render me a service that this dear girl,
+who is the best and most honest creature in the world, undertook to
+carry these articles to the pawnbroker's."
+
+"Sir," said the magistrate sternly to the policeman, "you have committed
+a deplorable error. I shall take care to report you, and see that you
+are punished. You may go, sir." Then, addressing Mother Bunch, with an
+air of real regret, he added: "I can only express my sorrow for what has
+happened. Believe me, I deeply feel for the cruel position in which you
+have been placed."
+
+"I believe it, sir," said Mother Bunch, "and I thank you." Overcome by
+so many emotions, she sank upon a chair.
+
+The magistrate was about to retire, when Dagobert, who had been
+seriously reflecting for some minutes, said to him in a firm voice:
+"Please to hear me, Sir; I have a deposition to make."
+
+"Speak, Sir."
+
+"What I am about to say is very important; it is to you, in your quality
+of a magistrate, that I make this declaration."
+
+"And as a magistrate I will hear you, sir."
+
+"I arrived here two days ago, bringing with me from Russia two girls who
+had been entrusted to me by their mother--the wife of Marshal Simon."
+
+"Of Marshal Simon, Duke de Ligny?" said the commissary, very much
+surprised.
+
+"Yes, Sir. Well, I left them here, being obliged to get out on pressing
+business. This morning, during my absence, they disappeared--and I am
+certain I know the man who has been the cause of it."
+
+"Now, my dear," said Frances, much alarmed.
+
+"Sir," said the magistrate, "your declaration is a very serious one.
+Disappearance of persons--sequestration, perhaps. But are you quite
+sure?"
+
+"These young ladies were here an hour ago; I repeat, sir, that during my
+absence, they have been taken away."
+
+"I do not doubt the sincerity of your declaration, sir; but still it is
+difficult to explain so strange an abduction. Who tells you that these
+young girls will not return? Besides, whom do you suspect? One word,
+before you make your accusation. Remember, it is the magistrate who
+hears you. On leaving this place, the law will take its course in this
+affair."
+
+"That is what I wish, Sir; I am responsible for those young ladies to
+their father. He may arrive at any moment, and I must be prepared to
+justify myself."
+
+"I understand all these reasons, sir; but still have a care you are not
+deceived by unfounded suspicions. Your denunciation once made, I may
+have to act provisionally against the person accused. Now, if you should
+be under a mistake, the consequences would be very serious for you; and,
+without going further," said the magistrate, pointing to Mother Bunch,
+with emotion, "you see what are the results of a false accusation."
+
+"You hear, my dear," cried Frances, terrified at the resolution of
+Dagobert to accuse Abbe Dubois; "do not say a word more, I entreat you."
+
+But the more the soldier reflected, the more he felt convinced that
+nothing but the influence of her confessor could have induced Frances to
+act as she had done; so he resumed, with assurance: "I accuse my wife's
+confessor of being the principal or the accomplice in the abduction of
+Marshal Simon's daughters."
+
+Frances uttered a deep groan, and hid her face in her hands; while
+Mother Bunch, who had drawn nigh, endeavored to console her. The
+magistrate had listened to Dagobert with extreme astonishment, and he
+now said to him with some severity: "Pray, sir, do not accuse unjustly
+a man whose position is in the highest degree respectable--a priest,
+sir?--yes, a priest? I warned you beforehand to reflect upon what you
+advanced. All this becomes very serious, and, at your age, any levity in
+such matters would be unpardonable."
+
+"Bless me, sir!" said Dagobert, with impatience; "at my age, one has
+common sense. These are the facts. My wife is one of the best and most
+honorable of human creatures--ask any one in the neighborhood, and they
+will tell you so--but she is a devotee; and, for twenty years, she has
+always seen with her confessor's eyes. She adores her son, she loves me
+also; but she puts the confessor before us both."
+
+"Sir," said the commissary, "these family details--"
+
+"Are indispensable, as you shall see. I go out an hour ago, to look
+after this poor girl here. When I come back, the young ladies have
+disappeared. I ask my wife to whom she has entrusted them, and where
+they are; she falls at my feet weeping, and says: 'Do what you will with
+me, but do not ask me what has become of the children. I cannot answer
+you.'"
+
+"Is thus true, madame?" cried the commissary, looking at Frances with
+surprise.
+
+"Anger, threats, entreaties, had no effect," resumed Dagobert; "to
+everything she answered as mildly as a saint: 'I can tell you nothing!'
+Now, sir, I maintain that my wife has no interest to take away these
+children; she is under the absolute dominion of her confessor; she has
+acted by his orders and for his purposes; he is the guilty party."
+
+Whilst Dagobert spoke, the commissary looked more and more attentively
+at Frances, who, supported by the hunchback, continued to weep bitterly.
+After a moment's reflection, the magistrate advanced towards Dagobert's
+wife, and said to her: "Madame, you have heard what your husband has
+just declared."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What have you to say in your justification?"
+
+"But, sir," cried Dagobert, "it is not my wife that I accuse--I do not
+mean that; it is her confessor."
+
+"Sir, you have applied to a magistrate; and the magistrate must act as
+he thinks best for the discovery of the truth. Once more, madame,"
+he resumed, addressing Frances, "what have you to say in your
+justification?"
+
+"Alas! nothing, sir."
+
+"Is it true that your husband left these young girls in your charge when
+he went out?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is it true that, on his return, they were no longer to be found?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is it true that, when he asked you where they were, you told him that
+you could give him no information on the subject?"
+
+The commissary appeared to wait for Frances' reply with kind of anxious
+curiosity.
+
+"Yes, sir," said she, with the utmost simplicity, "that was the answer I
+made my husband."
+
+"What, madame!" said the magistrate, with an air of painful
+astonishment; "that was your only answer to all the prayers and commands
+of your husband? What! you refused to give him the least information? It
+is neither probable nor possible."
+
+"It is the truth, sir."
+
+"Well, but, after all, madame, what have you done with the young ladies
+that were entrusted to your care?"
+
+"I can tell you nothing about it, sir. If I would not answer my poor
+husband, I certainly will not answer any one else."
+
+"Well, sir," resumed Dagobert, "was I wrong? An honest, excellent woman
+like that, who was always full of good sense and affection, to talk in
+this way--is it natural? I repeat to you, sir that it is the work of her
+confessor; act against him promptly and decidedly, we shall soon know
+all, and my poor children will be restored to me."
+
+"Madame," continued the commissary, without being able to repress a
+certain degree of emotion, "I am about to speak to you very severely.
+My duty obliges me to do so. This affair becomes so serious and
+complicated, that I must instantly commence judicial proceedings on the
+subject. You acknowledge that these young ladies have been left in your
+charge, and that you cannot produce them. Now, listen to me: if you
+refuse to give any explanation in the matter, it is you alone that will
+be accused of their disappearance. I shall be obliged, though with great
+regret, to take you into custody."
+
+"Me!" cried Frances, with the utmost alarm.
+
+"Her!" exclaimed Dagobert; "never! It is her confessor that I accuse,
+not my poor wife. Take her into custody, indeed!" He ran towards her, as
+if he would protect her.
+
+"It is too late, sir," said the commissary. "You have made your charge
+for the abduction of these two young ladies. According to your wife's
+own declaration, she alone is compromised up to this point. I must
+take her before the Public Prosecutor, who will decide what course to
+pursue."
+
+"And I say, sir," cried Dagobert, in a menacing tone, "that my wife
+shall not stir from this room."
+
+"Sir," said the commissary coolly, "I can appreciate your feelings; but,
+in the interest of justice, I would beg you not to oppose a necessary
+measure--a measure which, moreover, in ten minutes it would be quite
+impossible for you to prevent."
+
+These words, spoken with calmness, recalled the soldier to himself.
+"But, sir," said he, "I do not accuse my wife."'
+
+"Never mind, my dear--do not think of me!" said Frances, with the
+angelic resignation of a martyr. "The Lord is still pleased to try me
+sorely; but I am His unworthy servant, and must gratefully resign myself
+to His will. Let them arrest me, if they choose; I will say no more in
+prison than I have said already on the subject of those poor children."
+
+"But, sir," cried Dagobert, "you see that my wife is out of her head.
+You cannot arrest her."
+
+"There is no charge, proof, or indication against the other person whom
+you accuse, and whose character should be his protection. If I take
+your wife, she may perhaps be restored to you after a preliminary
+examination. I regret," added the commissary, in a tone of pity, "to
+have to execute such a mission, at the very moment when your son's
+arrest--"
+
+"What!" cried Dagobert, looking with speechless astonishment at his wife
+and Mother Bunch; "what does he say? my son?"
+
+"You were not then aware of it? Oh, sir, a thousand pardons!" said the
+magistrate, with painful emotion. "It is distressing to make you such a
+communication."
+
+"My son!" repeated Dagobert, pressing his two hands to his forehead. "My
+son! arrested!"
+
+"For a political offence of no great moment," said the commissary.
+
+"Oh! this is too much. All comes on me at once!" cried the soldier,
+falling overpowered into a chair, and hiding his face with his hands.
+
+After a touching farewell, during which, in spite of her terror, Frances
+remained faithful to the vow she had made to the Abbe Dubois--Dagobert,
+who had refused to give evidence against his wife, was left leaning
+upon a table, exhausted by contending emotions, and could not help
+explaining: "Yesterday, I had with me my wife, my son, my two poor
+orphans--and now--I am alone--alone!"
+
+The moment he pronounced these words, in a despairing tone, a mild sad
+voice was heard close behind him, saying timidly: "M. Dagobert, I am
+here; if you will allow me, I will remain and wait upon you."
+
+It was Mother Bunch!
+
+Trusting that the reader's sympathy is with the old soldier thus left
+desolate, with Agricola in his prison, Adrienne in hers, the madhouse,
+and Rose and Blanche Simon in theirs, the nunnery; we hasten to assure
+him (or her, as the case may be), that not only will their future steps
+be traced, but the dark machinations of the Jesuits, and the thrilling
+scenes in which new characters will perform their varied parts, pervaded
+by the watching spirit of the Wandering Jew, will be revealed in Part
+Second of this work, entitled: THE CHASTISEMENT.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV.
+
+
+
+
+PART SECOND.--THE CHASTISEMENT.
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.--THE BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF TWO WORLDS.
+
+     I. The Masquerade II. The Contrast III. The Carouse IV. The
+     Farewell V. The Florine VI. Mother Sainte-Perpetue VII. The
+     Temptation VIII. Mother Bunch and Mdlle. De Cardoville IX.
+     The Encounters--The Meeting XI. Discoveries XII. The Penal
+     Code XIII. Burglary
+
+
+As the eagle, perched upon the cliff, commands an all-comprehensive
+view--not only of what happens on the plains and in the woodlands, but
+of matters occurring upon the heights, which its aerie overlooks, so may
+the reader have sights pointed out to him, which lie below the level of
+the unassisted eye.
+
+In the year 1831, the powerful Order of the Jesuits saw fit to begin
+to act upon information which had for some time been digesting in their
+hands.
+
+As it related to a sum estimated at no less than thirty or forty
+millions of francs, it is no wonder that they should redouble all
+exertions to obtain it from the rightful owners.
+
+These were, presumably, the descendants of Marius, Count of Rennepont,
+in the reign of Louis XIV. of France.
+
+They were distinguished from other men by a simple token, which all, in
+the year above named, had in their hands.
+
+It was a bronze medal, bearing these legends on reverse and obverse:
+
+                 VICTIM
+                  of
+               L. C. D. J.
+               Pray for me!
+
+                 PARIS,
+            February the 13th, 1682.
+
+                IN PARIS
+            Rue St Francois, No. 3,
+            In a century and a half
+               you will be.
+
+            February the 13th, 1832.
+               PRAY FOR ME!
+
+Those who had this token were descendants of a family whom, a hundred
+and fifty years ago, persecution scattered through the world, in
+emigration and exile; in changes of religion, fortune and name. For this
+family--what grandeur, what reverses, what obscurity, what lustre, what
+penury, what glory! How many crimes sullied, how many virtues honored
+it! The history of this single family is the history of humanity!
+Passing through many generations, throbbing in the veins of the poor
+and the rich, the sovereign and the bandit, the wise and the simple, the
+coward and the brave, the saint and the atheist, the blood flowed on to
+the year we have named.
+
+Seven representatives summed up the virtue, courage, degradation,
+splendor, and poverty of the race. Seven: two orphan twin daughters of
+exiled parents, a dethroned prince, a humble missionary priest, a man
+of the middle class, a young lady of high name and large fortune, and a
+working man.
+
+Fate scattered them in Russia, India, France, and America.
+
+The orphans, Rose and Blanche Simon, had left their dead mother's grave
+in Siberia, under charge of a trooper named Francis Baudoin, alias
+Dagobert, who was as much attached to them as he had been devoted to
+their father, his commanding general.
+
+On the road to France, this little party had met the first check, in the
+only tavern of Mockern village. Not only had a wild beast showman, known
+as Morok the lion-tamer, sought to pick a quarrel with the inoffensive
+veteran, but that failing, had let a panther of his menagerie loose
+upon the soldier's horse. That horse had carried Dagobert, under General
+Simon's and the Great Napoleon's eyes, through many battles; had borne
+the General's wife (a Polish lady under the Czar's ban) to her home of
+exile in Siberia, and their children now across Russia and Germany, but
+only to perish thus cruelly. An unseen hand appeared in a manifestation
+of spite otherwise unaccountable. Dagobert, denounced as a French spy,
+and his fair young companions accused of being adventuresses to help his
+designs, had so kindled at the insult, not less to him than to his old
+commander's daughters, that he had taught the pompous burgomaster of
+Mockern a lesson, which, however, resulted in the imprisonment of the
+three in Leipsic jail.
+
+General Simon, who had vainly sought to share his master's St. Helena
+captivity, had gone to fight the English in India. But notwithstanding
+his drilling of Radja-sings sepoys, they had been beaten by the troops
+taught by Clive, and not only was the old king of Mundi slain, and the
+realm added to the Company's land, but his son, Prince Djalma, taken
+prisoner. However, at length released, he had gone to Batavia, with
+General Simon. The prince's mother was a Frenchwoman, and among the
+property she left him in the capital of Java, the general was delighted
+to find just such another medal as he knew was in his wife's possession.
+
+The unseen hand of enmity had reached to him, for letters miscarried,
+and he did not know either his wife's decease or that he had twin
+daughters.
+
+By a trick, on the eve of the steamship leaving Batavia for the Isthmus
+of Suez, Djalma was separated from his friend, and sailing for Europe
+alone, the latter had to follow in another vessel.
+
+The missionary priest trod the war trails of the wilderness, with that
+faith and fearlessness which true soldiers of the cross should evince.
+In one of these heroic undertakings, Indians had captured him, and
+dragging him to their village under the shadow of the Rocky Mountains,
+they had nailed him in derision to a cross, and prepared to scalp him.
+
+But if an unseen hand of a foe smote or stabbed at the sons of
+Rennepont, a visible interpositor had often shielded them, in various
+parts of the globe.
+
+A man, seeming of thirty years of age, very tall, with a countenance
+as lofty as mournful, marked by the black eyebrows meeting, had thrown
+himself--during a battle's height--between a gun of a park which General
+Simon was charging and that officer. The cannon vomited its hail of
+death, but when the flame and smoke had passed, the tall man stood erect
+as before, smiling pityingly on the gunner, who fell on his knees as
+frightened as if he beheld Satan himself. Again, as General Simon lay
+upon the lost field of Waterloo, raging with his wounds, eager to die
+after such a defeat, this same man staunched his hurts, and bade him
+live for his wife's sake.
+
+Years after, wearing the same unalterable look, this man accosted
+Dagobert in Siberia, and gave him for General Simon's wife, the diary
+and letters of her husband, written in India, in little hope of them
+ever reaching her hands. And at the year our story opens, this man
+unbarred the cell-door of Leipsic jail, and let Dagobert and the orphans
+out, free to continue their way into France.
+
+On the other hand, when the scalping-knife had traced its mark around
+the head of Gabriel the missionary, and when only the dexterous turn and
+tug would have removed the trophy, a sudden apparition had terrified
+the superstitious savages. It was a woman of thirty, whose brown
+tresses formed a rich frame around a royal face, toned down by endless
+sorrowing. The red-skins shrank from her steady advance, and when her
+hand was stretched out between them and their young victim, they uttered
+a howl of alarm, and fled as if a host of their foemen were on their
+track. Gabriel was saved, but all his life he was doomed to bear that
+halo of martyrdom, the circling sweep of the scalper's knife.
+
+He was a Jesuit. By the orders of his society he embarked for Europe. We
+should say here, that he, though owning a medal of the seven described,
+was unaware that he should have worn it. His vessel was driven by storms
+to refit at the Azores, where he had changed ship into the same as was
+bearing Prince Djalma to France, via Portsmouth.
+
+But the gales followed him, and sated their fury by wrecking the "Black
+Eagle" on the Picardy coast. This was at the same point as were a
+disabled Hamburg steamer, among whose passengers where Dagobert and his
+two charges, was destroyed the same night. Happily the tempest did not
+annihilate them all. There were saved, Prince Djalma and a countryman
+of his, one Faringhea, a Thuggee chief, hunted out of British India;
+Dagobert, and Rose and Blanche Simon, whom Gabriel had rescued. These
+survivors had recovered, thanks to the care they had received in
+Cardoville House, a country mansion which had sheltered them, and except
+the prince and the Strangler chief, the others were speedily able to go
+on to Paris.
+
+The old grenadier and the orphans--until General Simon should be
+heard from--dwelt in the former's house. His son had kept it, from his
+mother's love for the life-long home. It was such a mean habitation as
+a workman like Agricola Baudoin could afford to pay the rent of, and far
+from the fit abode of the daughters of the Duke de Ligny and Marshal of
+France, which Napoleon had created General Simon, though the rank had
+only recently been approved by the restoration.
+
+But in Paris the unknown hostile hand showed itself more malignant than
+ever.
+
+The young lady of high name and large fortune was Adrienne de
+Cardoville, whose aunt, the Princess de Saint-Dizier, was a Jesuit.
+Through her and her accomplices' machinations, the young lady's forward
+yet virtuous, wildly aspiring but sensible, romantic but just, character
+was twisted into a passable reason for her immurement in a mad-house.
+
+This asylum adjoined St. Mary's Convent, into which Rose and Blanche
+Simon were deceitfully conducted. To secure their removal, Dagobert had
+been decoyed into the country, under pretence of showing some of General
+Simon's document's to a lawyer; his son Agricola arrested for treason,
+on account of some idle verses the blacksmith poet was guilty of, and
+his wife rendered powerless, or, rather, a passive assistant, by the
+influence of the confessional! When Dagobert hurried back from his wild
+goose chase, he found the orphans gone: Mother Bunch (a fellow-tenant of
+the house, who had been brought up in the family) ignorant, and his wife
+stubbornly refusing to break the promise she had given her confessor,
+and acquaint a single soul where she had permitted the girls to be
+taken. In his rage, the soldier rashly accused that confessor, but
+instead of arresting the Abbe Dubois, it was Mrs. Baudoin whom the
+magistrate felt compelled to arrest, as the person whom alone
+he ventured to commit for examination in regard to the orphans'
+disappearance. Thus triumphs, for the time being, the unseen foe.
+
+The orphans in a nunnery; the dethroned prince a poor castaway in a
+foreign land; the noble young lady in a madhouse; the missionary priest
+under the thumb of his superiors.
+
+As for the man of the middle class, and the working man, who concluded
+the list of this family, we are to read of them, as well as of the
+others, in the pages which now succeed these.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE MASQUERADE.
+
+The following day to that on which Dagobert's wife (arrested for not
+accounting for the disappearance of General Simon's daughters) was led
+away before a magistrate, a noisy and animated scene was transpiring
+on the Place du Chatelet, in front of a building whose first floor and
+basement were used as the tap-rooms of the "Sucking Calf" public-house.
+
+A carnival night was dying out.
+
+Quite a number of maskers, grotesquely and shabbily bedecked, had rushed
+out of the low dance-houses in the Guildhall Ward, and were roaring out
+staves of songs as they crossed the square. But on catching sight of a
+second troop of mummers running about the water-side, the first party
+stopped to wait for the others to come up, rejoicing, with many a shout,
+in hopes of one of those verbal battles of slang and smutty talk which
+made Vade so illustrious.
+
+This mob--nearly all its members half seas over, soon swollen by the
+many people who have to be up early to follow their crafts--suddenly
+concentrated in one of the corners of the square, so that a pale,
+deformed girl, who was going that way, was caught in the human tide.
+This was Mother Bunch. Up with the lark, she was hurrying to receive
+some work from her employer. Remembering how a mob had treated her when
+she had been arrested in the streets only the day before, by mistake,
+the poor work-girl's fears may be imagined when she was now surrounded
+by the revellers against her will. But, spite of all her efforts--very
+feeble, alas!--she could not stir a step, for the band of merry-makers,
+newly arriving, had rushed in among the others, shoving some of them
+aside, pushing far into the mass, and sweeping Mother Bunch--who was in
+their way--clear over to the crowd around the public-house.
+
+The new-comers were much finer rigged out than the others, for they
+belonged to the gay, turbulent class which goes frequently to the
+Chaumiere, the Prado, the Colisee, and other more or less rowdyish
+haunts of waltzers, made up generally of students, shop-girls, and
+counter skippers, clerks, unfortunates, etc., etc.
+
+This set, while retorting to the chaff of the other party, seemed to be
+very impatiently expecting some singularly desired person to put in her
+appearance.
+
+The following snatches of conversation, passing between clowns and
+columbines, pantaloons and fairies, Turks and sultans, debardeurs and
+debardeuses, paired off more or less properly, will give an idea of the
+importance of the wished-for personage.
+
+"They ordered the spread to be for seven in the morning, so their
+carriages ought to have come up afore now."
+
+"Werry like, but the Bacchanal Queen has got to lead off the last dance
+in the Prado."
+
+"I wish to thunder I'd 'a known that, and I'd 'a stayed there to see
+her--my beloved Queen!"
+
+"Gobinet; if you call her your beloved Queen again, I'll scratch you!
+Here's a pinch for you, anyhow!"
+
+"Ow, wow, Celeste! hands off! You are black-spotting the be-yutiful
+white satin jacket my mamma gave me when I first came out as Don
+Pasqually!"
+
+"Why did you call the Bacchanal Queen your beloved, then? What am I, I'd
+like to know?"
+
+"You are my beloved, but not my Queen, for there is only one moon in
+the nights of nature, and only one Bacchanal Queen in the nights at the
+Prado."
+
+"That's a bit from a valentine! You can't come over me with such
+rubbish."
+
+"Gobinet's right! the Queen was an out-and-outer tonight!"
+
+"In prime feather!"
+
+"I never saw her more on the go!"
+
+"And, my eyes! wasn't her dress stunning?"
+
+"Took your breath away!"
+
+"Crushing!"
+
+"Heavy!"
+
+"Im-mense!"
+
+"The last kick!"
+
+"No one but she can get up such dresses."
+
+"And, then, the dance!"
+
+"Oh, yes! it was at once bounding waving, twisting! There is not such
+another bayadere under the night-cap of the sky!"
+
+"Gobinet, give me back my shawl directly. You have already spoilt it
+by rolling it round your great body. I don't choose to have my things
+ruined for hulking beasts who call other women bayaderes!"
+
+"Celeste, simmer down. I am disguised as a Turk, and, when I talk of
+bayaderes, I am only in character."
+
+"Your Celeste is like them all, Gobinet; she's jealous of the Bacchanal
+Queen."
+
+"Jealous!--do you think me jealous? Well now! that's too bad. If I chose
+to be as showy as she is they would talk of me as much. After all, it's
+only a nickname that makes her reputation! nickname!"
+
+"In that you have nothing to envy her--since you are called Celeste!"
+
+"You know well enough, Gobinet, that Celeste is my real name."
+
+"Yes; but it's fancied a nickname--when one looks in your face."
+
+"Gobinet, I will put that down to your account."
+
+"And Oscar will help you to add it up, eh?"
+
+"Yes; and you shall see the total. When I carry one, the remainder will
+not be you."
+
+"Celeste, you make me cry! I only meant to say that your celestial name
+does not go well with your charming little face, which is still more
+mischievous than that of the Bacchanal Queen."
+
+"That's right; wheedle me now, wretch!"
+
+"I swear by the accursed head of my landlord, that, if you liked, you
+could spread yourself as much as the Bacchanal Queen--which is saying a
+great deal."
+
+"The fact is, that the Bacchanal had cheek enough, in all conscience."
+
+"Not to speak of her fascinating the bobbies!"
+
+"And magnetizing the beaks."
+
+"They may get as angry as they please; she always finishes by making
+them laugh."
+
+"And they all call her: Queen!"
+
+"Last night she charmed a slop (as modest as a country girl) whose
+purity took up arms against the famous dance of the Storm-blown Tulip."
+
+"What a quadrille! Sleepinbuff and the Bacchanal Queen, having opposite
+to them Rose-Pompon and Ninny Moulin!"
+
+"And all four making tulips as full-blown as could be!"
+
+"By-the-bye, is it true what they say of Ninny Moulin?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Why that he is a writer, and scribbles pamphlets on religion."
+
+"Yes, it is true. I have often seen him at my employer's, with whom he
+deals; a bad paymaster, but a jolly fellow!"
+
+"And pretends to be devout, eh?"
+
+"I believe you, my boy--when it is necessary; then he is my Lord
+Dumoulin, as large as life. He rolls his eyes, walks with his head on
+one side, and his toes turned in; but, when the piece is played out, he
+slips away to the balls of which he is so fond. The girls christened him
+Ninny Moulin. Add, that he drinks like a fish, and you have the photo
+of the cove. All this doesn't prevent his writing for the religious
+newspapers; and the saints, whom he lets in even oftener than himself,
+are ready to swear by him. You should see his articles and his
+tracts--only see, not read!--every page is full of the devil and
+his horns, and the desperate fryings which await your impious
+revolutionists--and then the authority of the bishops, the power of the
+Pope--hang it! how could I know it all? This toper, Ninny Moulin, gives
+good measure enough for their money!"
+
+"The fact is, that he is both a heavy drinker and a heavy swell. How
+he rattled on with little Rose-Pompon in the dance and the full-blown
+tulip!"
+
+"And what a rum chap he looked in his Roman helmet and top-boots."
+
+"Rose-Pompon dances divinely, too; she has the poetic twist."
+
+"And don't show her heels a bit!"
+
+"Yes; but the Bacchanal Queen is six thousand feet above the level of
+any common leg-shaker. I always come back to her step last night in the
+full-blown tulip."
+
+"It was huge!"
+
+"It was serene!"
+
+"If I were father of a family, I would entrust her with the education of
+my sons!"
+
+"It was that step, however, which offended the bobby's modesty."
+
+"The fact is, it was a little free."
+
+"Free as air--so the policeman comes up to her, and says: 'Well,
+my Queen, is your foot to keep on a-goin' up forever?' 'No, modest
+warrior!' replies the Queen; 'I practice the step only once every
+evening, to be able to dance it when I am old. I made a vow of it, that
+you might become an inspector.'"
+
+"What a comic card!"
+
+"I don't believe she will remain always with Sleepinbuff."
+
+"Because he has been a workman?"
+
+"What nonsense! it would preciously become us, students and shop-boys,
+to give ourselves airs! No; but I am astonished at the Queen's
+fidelity."
+
+"Yes--they've been a team for three or four good months."
+
+"She's wild upon him, and he on her."
+
+"They must lead a gay life."
+
+"Sometimes I ask myself where the devil Sleepinbuff gets all the money
+he spends. It appears that he pays all last night's expenses, three
+coaches-and-four, and a breakfast this morning for twenty, at ten francs
+a-head."
+
+"They say he has come into some property. That's why Ninny Moulin, who
+has a good nose for eating and drinking, made acquaintance with him last
+night--leaving out of the question that he may have some designs on the
+Bacchanal Queen."
+
+"He! In a lot! He's rather too ugly. The girls like to dance with him
+because he makes people laugh--but that's all. Little Rose-Pompon, who
+is such a pretty creature, has taken him as a harmless chap-her-own, in
+the absence of her student."
+
+"The coaches! the coaches!" exclaimed the crowd, all with one voice.
+
+Forced to stop in the midst of the maskers, Mother Bunch had not lost
+a word of this conversation, which was deeply painful to her, as it
+concerned her sister, whom she had not seen for a long time. Not that
+the Bacchanal Queen had a bad heart; but the sight of the wretched
+poverty of Mother Bunch--a poverty which she had herself shared, but
+which she had not had the strength of mind to bear any longer--caused
+such bitter grief to the gay, thoughtless girl, that she would no more
+expose herself to it, after she had in vain tried to induce her sister
+to accept assistance, which the latter always refused, knowing that its
+source could not be honorable.
+
+"The coaches! the coaches!" once more exclaimed the crowd, as they
+pressed forward with enthusiasm, so that Mother Bunch, carried on
+against her will, was thrust into the foremost rank of the people
+assembled to see the show.
+
+It was, indeed, a curious sight. A man on horseback, disguised as a
+postilion, his blue jacket embroidered with silver, and enormous tail
+from which the powder escaped in puffs, and a hat adorned with long
+ribbons, preceded the first carriage, cracking his whip, and crying with
+all his might: "Make way for the Bacchanal Queen and her court!"
+
+In an open carriage, drawn by four lean horses, on which rode two old
+postilions dressed as devils, was raised a downright pyramid of men and
+women, sitting, standing, leaning, in every possible variety of odd,
+extravagant, and grotesque costume; altogether an indescribable mass of
+bright colors, flowers, ribbons, tinsel and spangles. Amid this heap of
+strange forms and dresses appeared wild or graceful countenances, ugly
+or handsome features--but all animated by the feverish excitement of
+a jovial frenzy--all turned with an expression of fanatical admiration
+towards the second carriage, in which the Queen was enthroned, whilst
+they united with the multitude in reiterated shouts of "Long live the
+Bacchanal Queen."
+
+This second carriage, open like the first, contained only the four
+dancers of the famous step of the Storm-blown Tulip--Ninny Moulin, Rose
+Pompon, Sleepinbuff, and the Bacchanal Queen.
+
+Dumoulin, the religious writer, who wished to dispute possession of Mme.
+de la Sainte-Colombe with his patron, M. Rodin--Dumoulin, surnamed
+Ninny Moulin, standing on the front cushions, would have presented a
+magnificent study for Callot or Gavarni, that eminent artist, who
+unites with the biting strength and marvellous fancy of an illustrious
+caricaturist, the grace, the poetry, and the depth of Hogarth.
+
+Ninny Moulin, who was about thirty-five years of age, wore very much
+back upon his head a Roman helmet of silver paper. A voluminous plume of
+black feathers, rising from a red wood holder, was stuck on one side
+of this headgear, breaking the too classic regularity of its outline.
+Beneath this casque, shone forth the most rubicund and jovial face, that
+ever was purpled by the fumes of generous wine. A prominent nose, with
+its primitive shape modestly concealed beneath a luxuriant growth of
+pimples, half red, half violet, gave a funny expression to a perfectly
+beardless face; while a large mouth, with thick lips turning their
+insides outwards, added to the air of mirth and jollity which beamed
+from his large gray eyes, set flat in his head.
+
+On seeing this joyous fellow, with a paunch like Silenus, one could not
+help asking how it was, that he had not drowned in wine, a hundred times
+over, the gall, bile, and venom which flowed from his pamphlets against
+the enemies of Ultramontanism, and how his Catholic beliefs could float
+upwards in the midst of these mad excesses of drink and dancing. The
+question would have appeared insoluble, if one had not remembered how
+many actors, who play the blackest and most hateful first robbers on the
+stage, are, when off it, the best fellow in the world.
+
+The weather being cold, Ninny Moulin wore a kind of box-coat, which,
+being half-open, displayed his cuirass of scales, and his flesh-colored
+pantaloons, finishing just below the calf in a pair of yellow tops to
+his boots. Leaning forward in front of the carriage, he uttered wild
+shouts of delight, mingled with the words: "Long live the Bacchanal
+Queen!"--after which, he shook and whirled the enormous rattle he held
+in his hand. Standing beside him, Sleepinbuff waved on high a banner
+of white silk, on which were the words: "Love and joy to the Bacchanal
+Queen!"
+
+Sleepinbuff was about twenty-five years of age. His countenance was gay
+and intelligent, surrounded by a collar of chestnut-colored whiskers;
+but worn with late hours and excesses, it expressed a singular mixture
+of carelessness and hardihood, recklessness and mockery; still, no base
+or wicked passion had yet stamped there its fatal impress. He was the
+perfect type of the Parisian, as the term is generally applied, whether
+in the army, in the provinces, on board a king's ship, or a merchantman.
+It is not a compliment, and yet it is far from being an insult; it is an
+epithet which partakes at once of blame, admiration, and fear; for if,
+in this sense, the Parisian is often idle and rebellious, he is also
+quick at his work, resolute in danger, and always terribly satirical and
+fond of practical jokes.
+
+He was dressed in a very flashy style. He wore a black velvet jacket
+with silver buttons, a scarlet waistcoat, trousers with broad blue
+stripes, a Cashmere shawl for a girdle with ends loosely floating, and
+a chimney-pot hat covered with flowers and streamers. This disguise set
+off his light, easy figure to great advantage.
+
+At the back of the carriage, standing up on the cushions, were Rose
+Pompon and the Bacchanal Queen.
+
+Rose-Pompon, formerly a fringe-maker, was about seventeen years old, and
+had the prettiest and most winning little face imaginable. She was gayly
+dressed in debardeur costume. Her powdered wig, over which was smartly
+cocked on one side an orange and green cap laced with silver, increased
+the effect of her bright black eyes, and of her round, carnation cheeks.
+She wore about her neck an orange-colored cravat, of the same material
+as her loose sash. Her tight jacket and narrow vest of light green
+velvet, with silver ornaments, displayed to the best advantage a
+charming figure, the pliancy of which must have well suited the
+evolutions of the Storm blown Tulip. Her large trousers, of the same
+stuff and color as the jacket, were not calculated to hide any of her
+attractions.
+
+The Bacchanal Queen, being at the least a head taller, leaned with one
+hand on the shoulder of Rose-Pompon. Mother Bunch's sister ruled, like
+a true monarch, over this mad revelry, which her very presence seemed
+to inspire, such influence had her own mirth and animation over all that
+surrounded her.
+
+She was a tall girl of about twenty years of age, light and graceful,
+with regular features, and a merry, racketing air. Like her sister, she
+had magnificent chestnut hair, and large blue eyes; but instead of being
+soft and timid, like those of the young sempstress, the latter shone
+with indefatigable ardor in the pursuit of pleasure. Such was the energy
+of her vivacious constitution, that, notwithstanding many nights and
+days passed in one continued revel, her complexion was as pure, her
+cheeks as rosy, her neck as fresh and fair, as if she had that morning
+issued from some peaceful home. Her costume, though singular
+and fantastic, suited her admirably. It was composed of a tight,
+long-waisted bodice in cloth of gold, trimmed with great bunches of
+scarlet ribbon, the ends of which streamed over her naked arms, and
+a short petticoat of scarlet velvet, ornamented with golden beads and
+spangles. This petticoat reached half way down a leg, at once trim and
+strong, in a white silk stocking, and red buskin with brass heel.
+
+Never had any Spanish dancer a more supple, elastic, and tempting form,
+than this singular girl, who seemed possessed with the spirit of dancing
+and perpetual motion, for, almost every moment, a slight undulation of
+head, hips, and shoulders seemed to follow the music of an invisible
+orchestra; while the tip of her right foot, placed on the carriage door
+in the most alluring manner, continued to beat time--for the Bacchanal
+Queen stood proudly erect upon the cushions.
+
+A sort of gilt diadem, the emblem of her noisy sovereignty, hung with
+little bells, adorned her forehead. Her long hair, in two thick braids,
+was drawn back from her rosy cheeks, and twisted behind her head. Her
+left hand rested on little Rose-Pompon's shoulder, and in her right she
+held an enormous nosegay, which she waved to the crowd, accompanying
+each salute with bursts of laughter.
+
+It would be difficult to give a complete idea of this noisily animated
+and fantastic scene, which included also a third carriage, filled, like
+the first, with a pyramid of grotesque and extravagant masks. Amongst
+the delighted crowd, one person alone contemplated the picture with deep
+sorrow. It was Mother Bunch, who was still kept, in spite of herself, in
+the first rank of spectators.
+
+Separated from her sister for a long time, she now beheld her in all the
+pomp of her singular triumph, in the midst of the cries of joy, and
+the applause of her companions in pleasure. Yet the eyes of the young
+sempstress grew dim with tears; for, though the Bacchanal Queen seemed
+to share in the stunning gayety of all around her--though her face was
+radiant with smiles, and she appeared fully to enjoy the splendors
+of her temporary elevation--yet she had the sincere pity of the poor
+workwoman, almost in rags, who was seeking, with the first dawn of
+morning, the means of earning her daily bread.
+
+Mother Bunch had forgotten the crowd, to look only at her sister,
+whom she tenderly loved--only the more tenderly, that she thought her
+situation to be pitied. With her eyes fixed on the joyous and beautiful
+girl, her pale and gentle countenance expressed the most touching and
+painful interest.
+
+All at once, as the brilliant glance of the Bacchanal Queen travelled
+along the crowd, it lighted on the sad features of Mother Bunch.
+
+"My sister!" exclaimed Cephyse--such was the name of the Bacchanal
+Queen--"My sister!"--and with one bound, light as a ballet-dancer, she
+sprang from her movable throne (which fortunately just happened to
+be stopping), and, rushing up to the hunchback, embraced her
+affectionately.
+
+All this had passed so rapidly, that the companions of the Bacchanal
+Queen, still stupefied by the boldness of her perilous leap, knew not
+how to account for it; whilst the masks who surrounded Mother Bunch drew
+back in surprise, and the latter, absorbed in the delight of embracing
+her sister, whose caresses she returned, did not even think of the
+singular contrast between them, which was sure to soon excite the
+astonishment and hilarity of the crowd.
+
+Cephyse was the first to think of this, and wishing to save her sister
+at least one humiliation, she turned towards the carriage, and said:
+"Rose Pompon, throw me down my cloak; and, Ninny Moulin, open the door
+directly!"
+
+Having received the cloak, the Bacchanal Queen hastily wrapped it round
+her sister, before the latter could speak or move. Then, taking her by
+the hand, she said to her: "Come! come!"
+
+"I!" cried Mother Bunch, in alarm. "Do not think of it!"
+
+"I must speak with you. I will get a private room, where we shall be
+alone. So make haste, dear little sister! Do not resist before all these
+people--but come!"
+
+The fear of becoming a public sight decided Mother Bunch, who, confused
+moreover with the adventure, trembling and frightened, followed her
+sister almost mechanically, and was dragged by her into the carriage, of
+which Ninny Moulin had just opened the door. And so, with the cloak of
+the Bacchanal Queen covering Mother Bunch's poor garments and deformed
+figure, the crowd had nothing to laugh at, and only wondered what this
+meeting could mean, while the coaches pursued their way to the eating
+house in the Place du Chatelet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE CONTRAST.
+
+Some minutes after the meeting of Mother Bunch with the Bacchanal Queen,
+the two sisters were alone together in a small room in the tavern.
+
+"Let me kiss you again," said Cephyse to the young sempstress; "at least
+now we are alone, you will not be afraid?"
+
+In the effort of the Bacchanal Queen to clasp Mother Bunch in her arms,
+the cloak fell from the form of the latter. At sight of those miserable
+garments, which she had hardly had time to observe on the Place du
+Chatelet, in the midst of the crowd, Cephyse clasped her hands, and
+could not repress an exclamation of painful surprise. Then, approaching
+her sister, that she might contemplate her more closely, she took her
+thin, icy palms between her own plump hands, and examined for some
+minutes, with increasing grief, the suffering, pale, unhappy creature,
+ground down by watching and privations, and half-clothed in a poor,
+patched cotton gown.
+
+"Oh, sister! to see you thus!" Unable to articulate another word, the
+Bacchanal Queen threw herself on the other's neck, and burst into tears.
+Then, in the midst of her sobs, she added: "Pardon! pardon!"
+
+"What is the matter, my dear Cephyse?" said the young sewing-girl,
+deeply moved, and gently disengaging herself from the embrace of her
+sister. "Why do you ask my pardon?"
+
+"Why?" resumed Cephyse, raising her countenance, bathed in tears, and
+purple with shame; "is it not shameful of me to be dressed in all this
+frippery, and throwing away so much money in follies, while you are thus
+miserably clad, and in need of everything--perhaps dying of want, for I
+have never seen your poor face look so pale and worn."
+
+"Be at ease, dear sister! I am not ill. I was up rather late last night,
+and that makes me a little pale--but pray do not cry--it grieves me."
+
+The Bacchanal Queen had but just arrived, radiant in the midst of the
+intoxicated crowd, and yet it was Mother Bunch who was now employed in
+consoling her!
+
+An incident occurred, which made the contrast still more striking.
+Joyous cries were heard suddenly in the next apartment, and these words
+were repeated with enthusiasm: "Long live the Bacchanal Queen!"
+
+Mother Bunch trembled, and her eyes filled with tears, as she saw her
+sister with her face buried in her hands, as if overwhelmed with shame.
+"Cephyse," she said, "I entreat you not to grieve so. You will make me
+regret the delight of this meeting, which is indeed happiness to me! It
+is so long since I saw you! But tell me--what ails you?"
+
+"You despise me perhaps--you are right," said the Bacchanal Queen,
+drying her tears.
+
+"Despise you? for what?"
+
+"Because I lead the life I do, instead of having the courage to support
+misery along with you."
+
+The grief of Cephyse was so heart-breaking, that Mother Bunch, always
+good and indulgent, wishing to console her, and raise her a little in
+her own estimation, said to her tenderly: "In supporting it bravely for
+a whole year, my good Cephyse, you have had more merit and courage than
+I should have in bearing with it my whole life."
+
+"Oh, sister! do not say that."
+
+"In simple truth," returned Mother Bunch, "to what temptations is a
+creature like me exposed? Do I not naturally seek solitude, even as
+you seek a noisy life of pleasure? What wants have I? A very little
+suffices."
+
+"But you have not always that little?"
+
+"No--but, weak and sickly as I seem, I can endure some privations better
+than you could. Thus hunger produces in me a sort of numbness, which
+leaves me very feeble--but for you, robust and full of life, hunger is
+fury, is madness. Alas! you must remember how many times I have seen
+you suffering from those painful attacks, when work failed us in our
+wretched garret, and we could not even earn our four francs a week--so
+that we had nothing--absolutely nothing to eat--for our pride prevented
+us from applying to the neighbors."
+
+"You have preserved the right to that honest pride."
+
+"And you as well! Did you not struggle as much as a human creature
+could? But strength fails at last--I know you well, Cephyse--it was
+hunger that conquered you; and the painful necessity of constant labor,
+which was yet insufficient to supply our common wants."
+
+"But you could endure those privations--you endure them still."
+
+"Can you compare me with yourself? Look," said Mother Bunch, taking her
+sister by the hand, and leading her to a mirror placed above a couch,
+"look!--Dost think that God made you so beautiful, endowed you with such
+quick and ardent blood, with so joyous, animated, grasping a nature
+and with such taste and fondness for pleasure, that your youth might be
+spent in a freezing garret, hid from the sun, nailed constantly to your
+chair, clad almost in rags, and working without rest and without hope?
+No! for He has given us other wants than those of eating and drinking.
+Even in our humble condition, does not beauty require some little
+ornament? Does not youth require some movement, pleasure, gayety? Do not
+all ages call for relaxation and rest? Had you gained sufficient wages
+to satisfy hunger, to have a day or so's amusement in the week, after
+working every other day for twelve or fifteen hours, and to procure
+the neat and modest dress which so charming a face might naturally
+claim--you would never have asked for more, I am sure of it--you have
+told me as much a hundred times. You have yielded, therefore, to an
+irresistible necessity, because your wants are greater than mine."
+
+"It is true," replied the Bacchanal Queen, with a pensive air; "if I
+could but have gained eighteenpence a day, my life would have been quite
+different; for, in the beginning, sister, I felt cruelly humiliated to
+live at a man's expense."
+
+"Yes, yes--it was inevitable, my dear Cephyse; I must pity, but cannot
+blame you. You did not choose your destiny; but, like me, you have
+submitted to it."
+
+"Poor sister!" said Cephyse, embracing the speaker tenderly; "you can
+encourage and console me in the midst of your own misfortunes, when I
+ought to be pitying you."
+
+"Be satisfied!" said Mother Bunch; "God is just and good. If He has
+denied me many advantages, He has given me my joys, as you have yours."
+
+"Joys?"
+
+"Yes, and great ones--without which life would be too burdensome, and I
+should not have the courage to go through with it."
+
+"I understand you," said Cephyse, with emotion; "you still know how to
+devote yourself for others, and that lightens your own sorrows."
+
+"I do what I can, but, alas! it is very little; yet when I succeed,"
+added Mother Bunch, with a faint smile, "I am as proud and happy as a
+poor little ant, who, after a great deal of trouble, has brought a big
+straw to the common nest. But do not let us talk any more of me."
+
+"Yes, but I must, even at the risk of making you angry," resumed the
+Bacchanal Queen, timidly; "I have something to propose to you which you
+once before refused. Jacques Rennepont has still, I think, some money
+left--we are spending it in follies--now and then giving a little to
+poor people we may happen to meet--I beg of you, let me come to your
+assistance--I see in your poor face, you cannot conceal it from me, that
+you are wearing yourself out with toil."
+
+"Thanks, my dear Cephyse, I know your good heart; but I am not in want
+of anything. The little I gain is sufficient for me."
+
+"You refuse me," said the Bacchanal Queen, sadly, "because you know
+that my claim to this money is not honorable--be it so--I respect your
+scruples. But you will not refuse a service from Jacques; he has been a
+workman, like ourselves, and comrades should help each other. Accept it
+I beseech you, or I shall think you despise me."
+
+"And I shall think you despise me, if you insist any more upon it, my
+dear Cephyse," said Mother Bunch, in a tone at once so mild and firm
+that the Bacchanal Queen saw that all persuasion would be in vain. She
+hung her head sorrowfully, and a tear again trickled down her cheek.
+
+"My refusal grieves you," said the other, taking her hand; "I am truly
+sorry--but reflect--and you will understand me."
+
+"You are right," said the Bacchanal Queen, bitterly, after a moment's
+silence; "you cannot accept assistance from my lover--it was an insult
+to propose it to you. There are positions in life so humiliating, that
+they soil even the good one wishes to do."
+
+"Cephyse, I did not mean to hurt you--you know it well."
+
+"Oh! believe me," replied the Bacchanal Queen, "gay and giddy as I am,
+I have sometimes moments of reflection, even in the midst of my maddest
+joy. Happily, such moments are rare."
+
+"And what do you think of, then?"
+
+"Why, that the life I lead is hardly the thing; then resolve to ask
+Jacques for a small sum of money, just enough to subsist on for a year,
+and form the plan of joining you, and gradually getting to work again."
+
+"The idea is a good one; why not act upon it?"
+
+"Because, when about to execute this project, I examined myself
+sincerely, and my courage failed. I feel that I could never resume the
+habit of labor, and renounce this mode of life, sometimes rich, as
+to day, sometimes precarious,--but at least free and full of leisure,
+joyous and without care, and at worst a thousand times preferable to
+living upon four francs a week. Not that interest has guided me. Many
+times have I refused to exchange a lover, who had little or nothing,
+for a rich man, that I did not like. Nor have I ever asked anything for
+myself. Jacques has spent perhaps ten thousand francs the last three
+or four months, yet we only occupy two half-furnished rooms, because
+we always live out of doors, like the birds: fortunately, when I first
+loved him, he had nothing at all, and I had just sold some jewels
+that had been given me, for a hundred francs, and put this sum in the
+lottery. As mad people and fools are always lucky, I gained a prize of
+four thousand francs. Jacques was as gay, and light-headed, and full of
+fun as myself, so we said: 'We love each other very much, and, as long
+as this money lasts, we will keep up the racket; when we have no more,
+one of two things will happen--either we shall be tired of one another,
+and so part--or else we shall love each other still, and then, to remain
+together, we shall try and get work again; and, if we cannot do so, and
+yet will not part--a bushel of charcoal will do our business!'"
+
+"Good heaven!" cried Mother Bunch, turning pale.
+
+"Be satisfied! we have not come to that. We had still something left,
+when a kind of agent, who had paid court to me, but who was so ugly that
+I could not bear him for all his riches, knowing that I was living
+with Jacques asked me to--But why should I trouble you with all these
+details? In one word, he lent Jacques money, on some sort of a doubtful
+claim he had, as was thought, to inherit some property. It is with this
+money that we are amusing ourselves--as long as its lasts."
+
+"But, my dear Cephyse, instead of spending this money so foolishly, why
+not put it out to interest, and marry Jacques, since you love him?"
+
+"Oh! in the first place," replied the Bacchanal Queen, laughing, as her
+gay and thoughtless character resumed its ascendancy, "to put money out
+to interest gives one no pleasure. All the amusement one has is to look
+at a little bit of paper, which one gets in exchange for the nice little
+pieces of gold, with which one can purchase a thousand pleasures. As for
+marrying, I certainly like Jacques better than I ever liked any one;
+but it seems to me, that, if we were married, all our happiness would
+end--for while he is only my lover, he cannot reproach me with what has
+passed--but, as my husband, he would be stare to upbraid me, sooner or
+later, and if my conduct deserves blame, I prefer giving it to myself,
+because I shall do it more tenderly."
+
+"Mad girl that you are! But this money will not last forever. What is to
+be done next?"
+
+"Afterwards!--Oh! that's all in the moon. To-morrow seems to me as if it
+would not come for a hundred years. If we were always saying: 'We must
+die one day or the other'--would life be worth having?"
+
+The conversation between Cephyse and her sister was here again
+interrupted by a terrible uproar, above which sounded the sharp, shrill
+noise of Ninny Moulin's rattle. To this tumult succeeded a chorus of
+barbarous cries, in the midst of which were distinguishable these words,
+which shook the very windows: "The Queen! the Bacchanal Queen!"
+
+Mother Bunch started at this sudden noise.
+
+"It is only my court, who are getting impatient," said Cephyse--and this
+time she could laugh.
+
+"Heavens!" cried the sewing-girl, in alarm; "if they were to come here
+in search of you?"
+
+"No, no--never fear."
+
+"But listen! do you not hear those steps? they are coming along the
+passage--they are approaching. Pray, sister, let me go out alone,
+without being seen by all these people."
+
+That moment the door was opened, and Cephyse, ran towards it. She saw in
+the passage a deputation headed by Ninny Moulin, who was armed with his
+formidable rattle, and followed by Rose-Pompon and Sleepinbuff.
+
+"The Bacchanal Queen! or I poison myself with a glass of water;" cried
+Ninny Moulin.
+
+"The Bacchanal Queen! or I publish my banns of marriage with Ninny
+Moulin!" cried little Rose-Pompon, with a determined air.
+
+"The Bacchanal Queen! or the court will rise in arms, and carry her off
+by force!" said another voice.
+
+"Yes, yes--let us carry her off!" repeated a formidable chorus.
+
+"Jacques, enter alone!" said the Bacchanal Queen, notwithstanding these
+pressing summonses; then, addressing her court in a majestic tone, she
+added: "In ten minutes, I shall be at your service--and then for a--of a
+time!"
+
+"Long live the Bacchanal Queen," cried Dumoulin, shaking his rattle as
+he retired, followed by the deputation, whilst Sleepinbuff entered the
+room alone.
+
+"Jacques," said Cephyse, "this is my good sister."
+
+"Enchanted to see you," said Jacques, cordially; "the more so as you
+will give me some news of my friend Agricola. Since I began to play the
+rich man, we have not seen each other, but I like him as much as ever,
+and think him a good and worthy fellow. You live in the same house. How
+is he?"
+
+"Alas, sir! he and his family have had many misfortunes. He is in
+prison."
+
+"In prison!" cried Cephyse.
+
+"Agricola in prison! what for?" said Sleepinbuff.
+
+"For a trifling political offence. We had hoped to get him out on bail."
+
+"Certainly; for five hundred francs it could be done," said Sleepinbuff.
+
+"Unfortunately, we have not been able; the person upon whom we relied--"
+
+The Bacchanal Queen interrupted the speaker by saying to her lover: "Do
+you hear, Jacques? Agricola in prison, for want of five hundred francs!"
+
+"To be sure! I hear and understand all about it. No need of your
+winking. Poor fellow! he was the support of his mother."
+
+"Alas! yes, sir--and it is the more distressing, as his father has but
+just returned from Russia, and his mother--"
+
+"Here," said Sleepinbuff, interrupting, and giving Mother Bunch a purse;
+"take this--all the expenses here have been paid beforehand--this is
+what remains of my last bag. You will find here some twenty-five or
+thirty Napoleons, and I cannot make a better use of them than to serve
+a comrade in distress. Give them to Agricola's father; he will take the
+necessary steps, and to-morrow Agricola will be at his forge, where I
+had much rather he should be than myself."
+
+"Jacques, give me a kiss!" said the Bacchanal Queen.
+
+"Now, and afterwards, and again and again!" said Jacques, joyously
+embracing the queen.
+
+Mother Bunch hesitated for a moment; but reflecting that, after all,
+this sum of money, which was about to be spent in follies, would restore
+life and happiness to the family of Agricola, and that hereafter these
+very five hundred francs, when returned to Jacques, might be of the
+greatest use to him, she resolved to accept this offer. She took the
+purse, and with tearful eyes, said to him: "I will not refuse your
+kindness M. Jacques; you are so good and generous, Agricola's father
+will thus at least have one consolation, in the midst of heavy sorrows.
+Thanks! many thanks!"
+
+"There is no need to thank me; money was made for others as well as
+ourselves."
+
+Here, without, the noise recommenced more furiously than ever, and Ninny
+Moulin's rattle sent forth the most doleful sounds.
+
+"Cephyse," said Sleepinbuff, "they will break everything to pieces,
+if you do not return to them, and I have nothing left to pay for the
+damage. Excuse us," added he, laughing, "but you see that royalty has
+its duties."
+
+Cephyse deeply moved, extended her arms to Mother Bunch, who threw
+herself into them, shedding sweet tears.
+
+"And now," said she, to her sister, "when shall I see you again?"
+
+"Soon--though nothing grieves me more than to see you in want, out of
+which I am not allowed to help you."
+
+"You will come, then, to see me? It is a promise?"
+
+"I promise you in her name," said Jacques; "we will pay a visit to you
+and your neighbor Agricola."
+
+"Return to the company, Cephyse, and amuse yourself with a light heart,
+for M. Jacques has made a whole family happy."
+
+So saying, and after Sleepinbuff had ascertained that she could go down
+without being seen by his noisy and joyous companions, Mother Bunch
+quietly withdrew, eager to carry one piece of good news at least to
+Dagobert; but intending, first of all, to go to the Rue de Babylone, to
+the garden-house formerly occupied by Adrienne de Cardoville. We shall
+explain hereafter the cause of this determination.
+
+As the girl quitted the eating-house, three men plainly and comfortably
+dressed, were watching before it, and talking in a low voice. Soon
+after, they were joined by a fourth person, who rapidly descended the
+stairs of the tavern.
+
+"Well?" said the three first, with anxiety.
+
+"He is there."
+
+"Are you sure of it?"
+
+"Are there two Sleepers-in-buff on earth?" replied the other. "I have
+just seen him; he is togged out like one of the swell mob. They will be
+at table for three hours at least."
+
+"Then wait for me, you others. Keep as quiet as possible. I will go and
+fetch the captain, and the game is bagged." So saying, one of the three
+men walked off quickly, and disappeared in a street leading from the
+square.
+
+At this same instant the Bacchanal Queen entered the banqueting-room,
+accompanied by Jacques, and was received with the most frenzied
+acclamations from all sides.
+
+"Now then," cried Cephyse, with a sort of feverish excitement, as if she
+wished to stun herself; "now then, friends--noise and tumult, hurricane
+and tempest, thunder and earthquake--as much as you please!" Then,
+holding out her glass to Ninny Moulin, she added: "Pour out! pour out!"
+
+"Long live the Queen!" cried they all, with one voice.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE CAROUSE.
+
+The Bacchanal Queen, having Sleepinbuff and Rose-Pompon opposite her,
+and Ninny Moulin on her right hand, presided at the repast, called a
+reveille-matin (wake-morning), generously offered by Jacques to his
+companions in pleasure.
+
+Both young men and girls seemed to have forgotten the fatigues of a
+ball, begun at eleven o'clock in the evening, and finished at six in
+the morning; and all these couples, joyous as they were amorous and
+indefatigable, laughed, ate, and drank, with youthful and Pantagruelian
+ardor, so that, during the first part of the feast, there was less
+chatter than clatter of plates and glasses.
+
+The Bacchanal Queen's countenance was less gay, but much more animated
+than usual; her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes announced a feverish
+excitement; she wished to drown reflection, cost what it might. Her
+conversation with her sister often recurred to her, and she tried to
+escape from such sad remembrances.
+
+Jacques regarded Cephyse from time to time with passionate adoration;
+for, thanks to the singular conformity of character, mind, and taste
+between him and the Bacchanal Queen, their attachment had deeper and
+stronger roots than generally belong to ephemeral connections founded
+upon pleasure. Cephyse and Jacques were themselves not aware of all the
+power of a passion which till now had been surrounded only by joys and
+festivities, and not yet been tried by any untoward event.
+
+Little Rose-Pompon, left a widow a few days before by a student, who, in
+order to end the carnival in style, had gone into the country to raise
+supplies from his family, under one of those fabulous pretences which
+tradition carefully preserves in colleges of law and medicine--Rose
+Pompon, we repeat, an example of rare fidelity, determined not to
+compromise herself, had taken for a chaperon the inoffensive Ninny
+Moulin.
+
+This latter, having doffed his helmet, exhibited a bald head, encircled
+by a border of black, curling hair, pretty long at the back of the head.
+By a remarkable Bacchic phenomenon, in proportion as intoxication gained
+upon him, a sort of zone, as purple as his jovial face, crept by degrees
+over his brow, till it obscured even the shining whiteness of his crown.
+Rose-Pompon, who knew the meaning of this symptom, pointed it out to the
+company, and exclaimed with a loud burst of laughter: "Take care, Ninny
+Moulin! the tide of the wine is coming in."
+
+"When it rises above his head he will be drowned," added the Bacchanal
+Queen.
+
+"Oh, Queen! don't disturb me; I am meditating, answered Dumoulin, who
+was getting tipsy. He held in his hand, in the fashion of an antique
+goblet, a punch-bowl filled with wine, for he despised the ordinary
+glasses, because of their small size.
+
+"Meditating," echoed Rose-Pompon, "Ninny Moulin is meditating. Be
+attentive!"
+
+"He is meditating; he must be ill then!"
+
+"What is he meditating? an illegal dance?"
+
+"A forbidden Anacreontic attitude?"
+
+"Yes, I am meditating," returned Dumoulin, gravely; "I am meditating
+upon wine, generally and in particular--wine, of which the immortal
+Bossuet"--Dumoulin had the very bad habit of quoting Bossuet when he was
+drunk--"of which the immortal Bossuet says (and he was a judge of good
+liquor): 'In wine is courage, strength joy, and spiritual fervor'--when
+one has any brains," added Ninny Moulin, by way of parenthesis.
+
+"Oh, my! how I adore your Bossuet!" said Rose-Pompon.
+
+"As for my particular meditation, it concerns the question, whether the
+wine at the marriage of Cana was red or white. Sometimes I incline to
+one side, sometimes to the other--and sometimes to both at once."
+
+"That is going to the bottom of the question," said Sleepinbuff.
+
+"And, above all, to the bottom of the bottles," added the Bacchanal
+Queen.
+
+"As your majesty is pleased to observe; and already, by dint of
+reflection and research, I have made a great discovery--namely, that, if
+the wine at the marriage of Cana was red--"
+
+"It couldn't 'a' been white," said Rose-Pompon, judiciously.
+
+"And if I had arrived at the conviction that it was neither white nor
+red?" asked Dumoulin, with a magisterial air.
+
+"That could only be when you had drunk till all was blue," observed
+Sleepinbuff.
+
+"The partner of the Queen says well. One may be too athirst for science;
+but never mind! From all my studies on this question, to which I have
+devoted my life--I shall await the end of my respectable career with
+the sense of having emptied tuns with a historical--theological--and
+archeological tone!"
+
+It is impossible to describe the jovial grimace and tone with which
+Dumoulin pronounced and accentuated these last words, which provoked a
+general laugh.
+
+"Archieolopically?" said Rose-Pompon. "What sawnee is that? Has he a
+tail? does he live in the water?"
+
+"Never mind," observed the Bacchanal Queen; "these are words of wise men
+and conjurers; they are like horsehair bustles--they serve for filling
+out--that's all. I like better to drink; so fill the glasses, Ninny
+Moulin; some champagne, Rose-Pompon; here's to the health of your
+Philemon and his speedy return!"
+
+"And to the success of his plant upon his stupid and stingy family!"
+added Rose-Pompon.
+
+The toast was received with unanimous applause.
+
+"With the permission of her majesty and her court," said Dumoulin, "I
+propose a toast to the success of a project which greatly interests me,
+and has some resemblance to Philemon's jockeying. I fancy that the toast
+will bring me luck."
+
+"Let's have it, by all means!"
+
+"Well, then--success to my marriage!" said Dumoulin, rising.
+
+These words provoked an explosion of shouts, applause, and laughter.
+Ninny Moulin shouted, applauded, laughed even louder than the rest,
+opening wide his enormous mouth, and adding to the stunning noise the
+harsh springing of his rattle, which he had taken up from under his
+chair.
+
+When the storm had somewhat subsided, the Bacchanal Queen rose and said:
+"I drink to the health of the future Madame Ninny Moulin."
+
+"Oh, Queen! your courtesy touches me so sensibly that I must
+allow you to read in the depths of my heart the name of my
+future spouse," exclaimed Dumoulin. "She is called Madame
+Honoree-Modeste-Messaline-Angele de la Sainte-Colombe, widow."
+
+"Bravo! bravo!"
+
+"She is sixty years old, and has more thousands of francs-a-year than
+she has hair in her gray moustache or wrinkles on her face; she is
+so superbly fat that one of her gowns would serve as a tent for this
+honorable company. I hope to present my future spouse to you on Shrove
+Tuesday, in the costume of a shepherdess that has just devoured her
+flock. Some of them wish to convert her--but I have undertaken to divert
+her, which she will like better. You must help me to plunge her headlong
+into all sorts of skylarking jollity."
+
+"We will plunge her into anything you please."
+
+"She shall dance like sixty!" said Rose-Pompon, humming a popular tune.
+
+"She will overawe the police."
+
+"We can say to them: 'Respect this lady; your mother will perhaps be as
+old some day!'"
+
+Suddenly, the Bacchanal Queen rose; her countenance wore a singular
+expression of bitter and sardonic delight. In one hand she held a glass
+full to the brim. "I hear the Cholera is approaching in his seven-league
+boots," she cried. "I drink luck to the Cholera!" And she emptied the
+bumper.
+
+Notwithstanding the general gayety, these words made a gloomy
+impression; a sort of electric shudder ran through the assemblage, and
+nearly every countenance became suddenly serious.
+
+"Oh, Cephyse!" said Jacques, in a tone of reproach.
+
+"Luck to the Cholera," repeated the Queen, fearlessly. "Let him spare
+those who wish to live, and kill together those who dread to part!"
+
+Jacques and Cephyse exchanged a rapid glance, unnoticed by their joyous
+companions, and for some time the Bacchanal Queen remained silent and
+thoughtful.
+
+"If you put it that way, it is different," cried Rose-Pompon, boldly.
+"To the Cholera! may none but good fellows be left on earth!"
+
+In spite of this variation, the impression was still painfully
+impressive. Dumoulin, wishing to cut short this gloomy subject,
+exclaimed: "Devil take the dead, and long live the living! And, talking
+of chaps who both live and live well, I ask you to drink a health most
+dear to our joyous queen, the health of our Amphitryon. Unfortunately,
+I do not know his respectable name, having only had the advantage
+of making his acquaintance this night; he will excuse me, then, if I
+confine myself to proposing the health of Sleepinbuff--a name by no
+means offensive to my modesty, as Adam never slept in any other manner.
+I drink to Sleepinbuff."
+
+"Thanks, old son!" said Jacques, gayly; "were I to forget your name, I
+should call you 'Have-a-sip?' and I am sure that you would answer: 'I
+will.'"
+
+"I will directly!" said Dumoulin, making the military salute with one
+hand, and holding out the bowl with the other.
+
+"As we have drunk together," resumed Sleepinbuff, cordially, "we ought
+to know each other thoroughly. I am Jacques Rennepont?"
+
+"Rennepont!" cried Dumoulin, who appeared struck by the name, in spite
+of his half-drunkenness; "you are Rennepont?"
+
+"Rennepont in the fullest sense of the word. Does that astonish you?"
+
+"There is a very ancient family of that name--the Counts of Rennepont."
+
+"The deuce there is!" said the other, laughing.
+
+"The Counts of Rennepont are also Dukes of Cardoville," added Dumoulin.
+
+"Now, come, old fellow! do I look as if I belonged to such a family?--I,
+a workman out for a spree?"
+
+"You a workman? why, we are getting into the Arabian Nights!" cried
+Dumoulin, more and more surprised. "You give us a Belshazzar's banquet,
+with accompaniment of carriages and four, and yet are a workman? Only
+tell me your trade, and I will join you, leaving the Vine of the Divine
+to take care of itself."
+
+"Come, I say! don't think that I am a printer of flimsies, and a
+smasher!" replied Jacques, laughing.
+
+"Oh, comrade! no such suspicion--"
+
+"It would be excusable, seeing the rigs I run. But I'll make you easy on
+that point. I am spending an inheritance."
+
+"Eating and drinking an uncle, no doubt?" said Dumoulin, benevolently.
+
+"Faith, I don't know."
+
+"What! you don't know whom you are eating and drinking?"
+
+"Why, you see, in the first place, my father was a bone-grubber."
+
+"The devil he was!" said Dumoulin, somewhat out of countenance, though
+in general not over-scrupulous in the choice of his bottle-companions:
+but, after the first surprise, he resumed, with the most charming
+amenity: "There are some rag-pickers very high by scent--I mean
+descent!"
+
+"To be sure! you may think to laugh at me," said Jacques, "but you are
+right in this respect, for my father was a man of very great merit. He
+spoke Greek and Latin like a scholar, and often told me that he had not
+his equal in mathematics; besides, he had travelled a good deal."
+
+"Well, then," resumed Dumoulin, whom surprise had partly sobered, "you
+may belong to the family of the Counts of Rennepont, after all."
+
+"In which case," said Rose-Pompon, laughing, "your father was not a
+gutter-snipe by trade, but only for the honor of the thing."
+
+"No, no--worse luck! it was to earn his living," replied Jacques; "but,
+in his youth, he had been well off. By what appeared, or rather by
+what did not appear, he had applied to some rich relation, and the
+rich relation had said to him: 'Much obliged! try the work'us.' Then he
+wished to make use of his Greek, and Latin, and mathematics. Impossible
+to do anything--Paris, it seems, being choke-full of learned men--so
+my father had to look for his bread at the end of a hooked stick, and
+there, too, he must have found it, for I ate of it during two years,
+when I came to live with him after the death of an aunt, with whom I had
+been staying in the country."
+
+"Your respectable father must have been a sort of philosopher," said
+Dumoulin; "but, unless he found an inheritance in a dustbin, I don't see
+how you came into your property."
+
+"Wait for the end of the song. At twelve years of age I was an
+apprentice at the factory of M. Tripeaud; two years afterwards, my
+father died of an accident, leaving me the furniture of our garret--a
+mattress, a chair, and a table--and, moreover, in an old Eau de Cologne
+box, some papers (written, it seems, in English), and a bronze medal,
+worth about ten sous, chain and all. He had never spoken to me of these
+papers, so, not knowing if they were good for anything, I left them at
+the bottom of an old trunk, instead of burning them--which was well for
+me, since it is upon these papers that I have had money advanced."
+
+"What a godsend!" said Dumoulin. "But somebody must have known that you
+had them?"
+
+"Yes; one of those people that are always looking out for old debts came
+to Cephyse, who told me all about it; and, after he had read the papers,
+he said that the affair was doubtful, but that he would lend me ten
+thousand francs on it, if I liked. Ten thousand francs was a large sum,
+so I snapped him up!"
+
+"But you must have supposed that these old papers were of great value."
+
+"Faith, no! since my father, who ought to have known their value, had
+never realized on them--and then, you see, ten thousand francs in good,
+bright coin, falling as it were from the clouds, are not to be sneezed
+at--so I took them--only the man made me do a bit of stiff as guarantee,
+or something of that kind."
+
+"Did you sign it?"
+
+"Of course--what did I care about it? The man told me it was only a
+matter of form. He spoke the truth, for the bill fell due a fortnight
+ago, and I have heard nothing of it. I have still about a thousand
+francs in his hands, for I have taken him for my banker. And that's the
+way, old pal, that I'm able to flourish and be jolly all day long, as
+pleased as Punch to have left my old grinder of a master, M. Tripeaud."
+
+As he pronounced this name, the joyous countenance of Jacques became
+suddenly overcast. Cephyse, no longer under the influence of the painful
+impression she had felt for a moment, looked uneasily at Jacques, for
+she knew the irritation which the name of M. Tripeaud produced within
+him.
+
+"M. Tripeaud," resumed Sleepinbuff, "is one that would make the good
+bad, and the bad worse. They say that a good rider makes a good horse;
+they ought to say that a good master makes a good workman. Zounds! when
+I think of that fellow!" cried Sleepinbuff, striking his hand violently
+on the table.
+
+"Come, Jacques--think of something else!" said the Bacchanal Queen.
+"Make him laugh, Rose-Pompon."
+
+"I am not in a humor to laugh," replied Jacques, abruptly, for he was
+getting excited from the effects of the wine; "it is more than I can
+bear to think of that man. It exasperates me! it drives me mad! You
+should have heard him saying: 'Beggarly workmen! rascally workmen! they
+grumble that they have no food in their bellies; well, then, we'll give
+them bayonets to stop their hunger.'(11) And there's the children in his
+factory--you should see them, poor little creatures!--working as long
+as the men--wasting away, and dying by the dozen--what odds? as soon
+as they were dead plenty of others came to take their places--not like
+horses, which can only be replaced with money."
+
+"Well, it is clear, that you do not like your old master," said
+Dumoulin, more and more surprised at his Amphitryon's gloomy and
+thoughtful air, and, regretting that the conversation had taken this
+serious turn, he whispered a few words in the ear of the Bacchanal
+Queen, who answered by a sign of intelligence.
+
+"I don't like M. Tripeaud!" exclaimed Jacques. "I hate him--and shall
+I tell you why? Because it is as much his fault as mine, that I have
+become a good-for-nothing loafer. I don't say it to screen myself; but
+it is the truth. When I was 'prenticed to him as a lad, I was all heart
+and ardor, and so bent upon work, that I used to take my shirt off to
+my task, which, by the way, was the reason that I was first called
+Sleepinbuff. Well! I might have toiled myself to death; not one word of
+encouragement did I receive. I came first to my work, and was the last
+to leave off; what matter? it was not even noticed. One day, I was
+injured by the machinery. I was taken to the hospital. When I came out,
+weak as I was, I went straight to my work; I was not to be frightened;
+the others, who knew their master well, would often say to me: 'What
+a muff you must be, little one! What good will you get by working so
+hard?'--still I went on. But, one day, a worthy old man, called Father
+Arsene, who had worked in the house many years, and was a model of good
+conduct, was suddenly turned away, because he was getting too feeble. It
+was a death-blow to him; his wife was infirm, and, at his age, he could
+not get another place. When the foreman told him he was dismissed, he
+could not believe it, and he began to cry for grief. At that moment, M.
+Tripeaud passes; Father Arsene begs him with clasped hands to keep him
+at half-wages. 'What!' says M. Tripeaud, shrugging his shoulders; 'do
+you think that I will turn my factory into a house of invalids? You are
+no longer able to work--so be off!' 'But I have worked forty years of my
+life; what is to become of me?' cried poor Father Arsene. 'That is not
+my business,' answered M. Tripeaud; and, addressing his clerk, he added:
+'Pay what is due for the week, and let him cut his stick.' Father
+Arsene did cut his stick; that evening, he and his old wife suffocated
+themselves with charcoal. Now, you see, I was then a lad; but that story
+of Father Arsene taught me, that, however hard you might work, it would
+only profit your master, who would not even thank you for it, and leave
+you to die on the flags in your old age. So all my fire was damped, and
+I said to myself: 'What's the use of doing more than I just need? If
+I gain heaps of gold for M. Tripeaud, shall I get an atom of it?'
+Therefore, finding neither pride nor profit in my work, I took a disgust
+for it--just did barely enough to earn my wages--became an idler and a
+rake--and said to myself: 'When I get too tired of labor, I can always
+follow the example of Father Arsene and his wife."'
+
+Whilst Jacques resigned himself to the current of these bitter thoughts,
+the other guests, incited by the expressive pantomime of Dumoulin and
+the Bacchanal Queen, had tacitly agreed together; and, on a signal from
+the Queen, who leaped upon the table, and threw down the bottles and
+glasses with her foot, all rose and shouted, with the accompaniment
+of Ninny Moulin's rattle "The storm blown Tulip! the quadrille of the
+Storm-blown Tulip!"
+
+At these joyous cries, which burst suddenly, like shell, Jacques
+started; then gazing with astonishment at his guests, he drew his hand
+across his brow, as if to chase away the painful ideas that oppressed
+him, and exclaimed: "You are right. Forward the first couple! Let us be
+merry!"
+
+In a moment, the table, lifted by vigorous arms, was removed to the
+extremity of the banqueting-room; the spectators, mounted upon chairs,
+benches, and window-ledges, began to sing in chorus the well-known air
+of les Etudiants, so as to serve instead of orchestra, and accompany
+the quadrille formed by Sleepinbuff, the Queen, Ninny Moulin, and Rose
+Pompon.
+
+Dumoulin, having entrusted his rattle to one of the guests, resumed his
+extravagant Roman helmet and plume; he had taken off his great-coat
+at the commencement of the feast, so that he now appeared in all the
+splendor of his costume. His cuirass of bright scales ended in a tunic
+of feathers, not unlike those worn by the savages, who form the oxen's
+escort on Mardi Gras. Ninny Moulin had a huge paunch and thin legs,
+so that the latter moved about at pleasure in the gaping mouths of his
+large top boots.
+
+Little Rose-Pompon, with her pinched-up cocked-hat stuck on one side,
+her hands in the pockets of her trousers, her bust a little inclined
+forward, and undulating from right to left, advanced to meet
+Ninny-Moulin; the latter danced, or rather leaped towards her, his
+left leg bent under him, his right leg stretched forward, with the toe
+raised, and the heel gliding on the floor; moreover, he struck his neck
+with his left hand, and by a simultaneous movement, stretched forth
+his right, as if he would have thrown dust in the eyes of his opposite
+partner.
+
+This first figure met with great success, and the applause was
+vociferous, though it was only the innocent prelude to the step of
+the Storm-blown Tulip--when suddenly the door opened, and one of the
+waiters, after looking about for an instant, in search of Sleepinbuff,
+ran to him, and whispered some words in his ear.
+
+"Me!" cried Jacques, laughing; "here's a go!"
+
+The waiter added a few more words, when Sleepinbuff's face assumed
+an expression of uneasiness, as he answered. "Very well! I come
+directly,"--and he made a step towards the door.
+
+"What's the matter, Jacques?" asked the Bacchanal Queen, in some
+surprise.
+
+"I'll be back immediately. Some one take my place. Go on with the
+dance," said Sleepinbuff, as he hastily left the room.
+
+"Something, that was not put down in the bill," said Dumoulin; "he will
+soon be back."
+
+"That's it," said Cephyse. "Now cavalier suel!" she added, as she took
+Jacques's place, and the dance continued.
+
+Ninny Moulin had just taken hold of Rose Pompon with his right hand,
+and of the Queen with his left, in order to advance between the two, in
+which figure he showed off his buffoonery to the utmost extent, when
+the door again opened, and the same waiter, who had called out Jacques,
+approached Cephyse with an air of consternation, and whispered in her
+ear, as he had before done to Sleepinbuff.
+
+The Bacchanal Queen grew pale, uttered a piercing scream, and rushed out
+of the room without a word, leaving her guests in stupefaction.
+
+(11) These atrocious words were actually spoken during the Lyons Riots.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE FAREWELL
+
+The Bacchanal Queen, following the waiter, arrived at the bottom of the
+staircase. A coach was standing before the door of the house. In it she
+saw Sleepinbuff, with one of the men who, two hours before, had been
+waiting on the Place du Chatelet.
+
+On the arrival of Cephyse, the man got down, and said to Jacques, as he
+drew out his watch: "I give you a quarter of an hour; it is all that I
+can do for you, my good fellow; after that we must start. Do not try to
+escape, for we'll be watching at the coach doors."
+
+With one spring, Cephyse was in the coach. Too much overcome to speak
+before, she now exclaimed, as she took her seat by Jacques, and remarked
+the paleness of his countenance: "What is it? What do they want with
+you?"
+
+"I am arrested for debt," said Jacques, in a mournful voice.
+
+"You!" exclaimed Cephyse, with a heart-rending sob.
+
+"Yes, for that bill, or guarantee, they made me sign. And yet the man
+said it was only a form--the rascal!"
+
+"But you have money in his hands; let him take that on account."
+
+"I have not a copper; he sends me word by the bailiff, that not having
+paid the bill, I shall not have the last thousand francs."
+
+"Then let us go to him, and entreat him to leave you at liberty. It was
+he who came to propose to lend you this money. I know it well, as he
+first addressed himself to me. He will have pity on you."
+
+"Pity?--a money broker pity? No! no!"
+
+"Is there then no hope? none?" cried Cephyse clasping her hands in
+anguish. "But there must be something done," she resumed. "He promised
+you!"
+
+"You can see how he keeps his promises," answered Jacques, with
+bitterness. "I signed, without even knowing what I signed. The bill is
+over-due; everything is in order, it would be vain to resist. They have
+just explained all that to me."
+
+"But they cannot keep you long in prison. It is impossible."
+
+"Five years, if I do not pay. As I'll never be able to do so, my fate is
+certain."
+
+"Oh! what a misfortune! and not to be able to do anything!" said
+Cephyse, hiding her face in her hands.
+
+"Listen to me, Cephyse," resumed Jacques, in a voice of mournful
+emotion; "since I am here, I have thought only of one thing--what is to
+become of you?"
+
+"Never mind me!"
+
+"Not mind you?--art mad? What will you do? The furniture of our two
+rooms is not worth two hundred francs. We have squandered our money so
+foolishly, that we have not even paid our rent. We owe three quarters,
+and we must not therefore count upon the furniture. I leave you without
+a coin. At least I shall be fed in prison--but how will you manage to
+live?
+
+"What is the use of grieving beforehand?"
+
+"I ask you how you will live to-morrow?" cried Jacques.
+
+"I will sell my costume, and some other clothes. I will send you half
+the money, and keep the rest. That will last some days."
+
+"And afterwards?--afterwards?"
+
+"Afterwards?--why, then--I don't know--how can I tell you!
+Afterwards--I'll look about me."
+
+"Hear me, Cephyse," resumed Jacques, with bitter agony. "It is now that
+I first know how mach I love you. My heart is pressed as in a vise at
+the thought of leaving you and I shudder to thinly what is to become of
+you." Then--drawing his hand across his forehead, Jacques added: "You
+see we have been ruined by saying--'To-morrow will never come!'--for to
+morrow has come. When I am no longer with you, and you have spent the
+last penny of the money gained by the sale of your clothes--unfit for
+work as you have become--what will you do next? Must I tell you what you
+will do!--you will forget me and--" Then, as if he recoiled from his own
+thoughts, Jacques exclaimed, with a burst of rage and despair--"Great
+Heaven! if that were to happen, I should dash my brains out against the
+stones!"
+
+Cephyse guessed the half-told meaning of Jacques, and throwing her arms
+around his neck, she said to him: "I take another lover?--never! I am
+like you, for I now first know how much I love you."
+
+"But, my poor Cephyse--how will you live?"
+
+"Well, I shall take courage. I will go back and dwell, with my sister,
+as in old times; we will work together, and so earn our bread. I'll
+never go out, except to visit you. In a few days your creditor will
+reflect, that, as you can't pay him ten thousand francs, he may as well
+set you free. By that time I shall have once more acquired the habit of
+working. You shall see, you shall see!--and you also will again acquire
+this habit. We shall live poor, but content. After all, we have had
+plenty of amusement for six month, while so many others have never known
+pleasure all their lives. And believe me, my dear Jacques, when I say
+to you--I shall profit by this lesson. If you love me, do not feel the
+least uneasiness; I tell you, that I would rather die a hundred times,
+than have another lover."
+
+"Kiss me," said Jacques, with eyes full of tears. "I believe you--yes,
+I believe you--and you give me back my courage, both for now and
+hereafter. You are right; we must try and get to work again, or else
+nothing remains but Father Arsene's bushel of charcoal; for, my girl,"
+added Jacques, in a low and trembling voice, "I have been like a drunken
+man these six months, and now I am getting sober, and see whither we are
+going. Our means once exhausted, I might perhaps have become a robber,
+and you--"
+
+"Oh, Jacques! don't talk so--it is frightful," interrupted Cephyse; "I
+swear to you that I will return to my sister--that I will work--that I
+will have courage!"
+
+Thus saying, the Bacchanal Queen was very sincere; she fully intended
+to keep her word, for her heart was not yet completely corrupted. Misery
+and want had been with her, as with so many others, the cause and the
+excuse of her worst errors. Until now, she had at least followed the
+instincts of her heart, without regard to any base or venal motive. The
+cruel position in which she beheld Jacques had so far exalted her love,
+that she believed herself capable of resuming, along with Mother Bunch,
+that life of sterile and incessant toil, full of painful sacrifices and
+privations, which once had been impossible for her to bear, and which
+the habits of a life of leisure and dissipation would now render still
+more difficult.
+
+Still, the assurances which she had just given Jacques calmed his grief
+and anxiety a little; he had sense and feeling enough to perceive that
+the fatal track which he had hitherto so blindly followed was leading
+both him and Cephyse directly to infamy.
+
+One of the bailiffs, having knocked at the coach-door, said to Jacques:
+"My lad, you have only five minutes left--so make haste."
+
+"So, courage, my girl--courage!" said Jacques.
+
+"I will; you may rely upon me."
+
+"Are you going upstairs again?"
+
+"No--oh no!" said Cephyse. "I have now a horror of this festivity."
+
+"Everything is paid for, and the waiter will tell them not to expect us
+back. They will be much astonished," continued Jacques, "but it's all
+the same now."
+
+"If you could only go with me to our lodging," said Cephyse, "this
+man would perhaps permit it, so as not to enter Sainte-Pelagie in that
+dress."
+
+"Oh! he will not forbid you to accompany me; but, as he will be with
+us in the coach, we shall not be able to talk freely in his presence.
+Therefore, let me speak reason to you for the first time in my life.
+Remember what I say, my dear Cephyse--and the counsel will apply to
+me as well as to yourself," continued Jacques, in a grave and feeling
+tone--"resume from to-day the habit of labor. It may be painful,
+unprofitable--never mind--do not hesitate, for too soon will the
+influence of this lesson be forgotten. By-and-bye it will be too late,
+and then you will end like so many unfortunate creatures--"
+
+"I understand," said Cephyse, blushing; "but I will rather die than lead
+such a life."
+
+"And there you will do well--for in that case," added Jacques, in a deep
+and hollow voice, "I will myself show you how to die."
+
+"I count upon you, Jacques," answered Cephyse, embracing her lover
+with excited feeling; then she added, sorrowfully: "It was a kind of
+presentiment, when just now I felt so sad, without knowing why, in the
+midst of all our gayety--and drank to the Cholera, so that we might die
+together."
+
+"Well! perhaps the Cholera will come," resumed Jacques, with a gloomy
+air; "that would save us the charcoal, which we may not even be able to
+buy."
+
+"I can only tell you one thing, Jacques, that to live and die together,
+you will always find me ready."
+
+"Come, dry your eyes," said he, with profound emotion. "Do not let us
+play the children before these men."
+
+Some minutes after, the coach took the direction to Jacques's lodging,
+where he was to change his clothes, before proceeding to the debtors'
+prison.
+
+Let us repeat, with regard to the hunchback's sister--for there are
+things which cannot be too often repeated--that one of the most fatal
+consequences of the Inorganization of Labor is the Insufficiency of
+Wages.
+
+The insufficiency of wages forces inevitably the greater number of
+young girls, thus badly paid, to seek their means of subsistence in
+connections which deprave them.
+
+Sometimes they receive a small allowance from their lovers, which,
+joined to the produce of their labor, enables them to live. Sometimes
+like the sempstress's sister, they throw aside their work altogether,
+and take up their abode with the man of their choice, should he be
+able to support the expense. It is during this season of pleasure and
+idleness that the incurable leprosy of sloth takes lasting possession of
+these unfortunate creatures.
+
+This is the first phase of degradation that the guilty carelessness of
+Society imposes on an immense number of workwomen, born with instincts
+of modesty, and honesty, and uprightness.
+
+After a certain time they are deserted by their seducers--perhaps when
+they are mothers. Or, it may be, that foolish extravagance consigns
+the imprudent lover to prison, and the young girl finds herself alone,
+abandoned, without the means of subsistence.
+
+Those who have still preserved courage and energy go back to their
+work--but the examples are very rare. The others, impelled by misery,
+and by habits of indolence, fall into the lowest depths.
+
+And yet we must pity, rather than blame them, for the first and virtual
+cause of their fall has been the insufficient remuneration of labor and
+sudden reduction of pay.
+
+Another deplorable consequence of this inorganization is the
+disgust which workmen feel for their employment, in addition to the
+insufficiency of their wages. And this is quite conceivable, for
+nothing is done to render their labor attractive, either by variety
+of occupations, or by honorary rewards, or by proper care, or by
+remuneration proportionate to the benefits which their toil provides, or
+by the hope of rest after long years of industry. No--the country thinks
+not, cares not, either for their wants or their rights.
+
+And yet, to take only one example, machinists and workers in foundries,
+exposed to boiler explosions, and the contact of formidable engines,
+run every day greater dangers than soldiers in time of war, display rare
+practical sagacity, and render to industry--and, consequently, to their
+country--the most incontestable service, during a long and honorable
+career, if they do not perish by the bursting of a boiler, or have not
+their limbs crushed by the iron teeth of a machine.
+
+In this last case, does the workman receive a recompense equal to that
+which awaits the soldier's praiseworthy, but sterile courage--a place in
+an asylum for invalids? No.
+
+What does the country care about it? And if the master should happen to
+be ungrateful, the mutilated workman, incapable of further service, may
+die of want in some corner.
+
+Finally, in our pompous festivals of commerce, do we ever assemble any
+of the skillful workmen who alone have woven those admirable stuffs,
+forged and damascened those shining weapons, chiselled those goblets of
+gold and silver, carved the wood and ivory of that costly furniture, and
+set those dazzling jewels with such exquisite art? No.
+
+In the obscurity of their garrets, in the midst of a miserable and
+starving family, hardly able to subsist on their scanty wages, these
+workmen have contributed, at least, one half to bestow those wonders
+upon their country, which make its wealth, its glory, and its pride.
+
+A minister of commerce, who had the least intelligence of his high
+functions and duties, would require of every factory that exhibits
+on these occasions, the selection by vote of a certain number of
+candidates, amongst whom the manufacturer would point out the one that
+appeared most worthy to represent the working classes in these great
+industrial solemnities.
+
+Would it not be a noble and encouraging example to see the master
+propose for public recompense and distinction the workman, deputed by
+his peers, as amongst the most honest, laborious, and intelligent of his
+profession? Then one most grievous injustice would disappear, and the
+virtues of the workman would be stimulated by a generous and noble
+ambition--he would have an interest in doing well.
+
+Doubtless, the manufacturer himself, because of the intelligence he
+displays, the capital he risks, the establishment he founds, and the
+good he sometimes does, has a legitimate right to the prizes bestowed
+upon him. But why is the workman to be rigorously excluded from these
+rewards, which have so powerful an influence upon the people? Are
+generals and officers the only ones that receive rewards in the army?
+And when we have remunerated the captains of this great and powerful
+army of industry, why should we neglect the privates?
+
+Why for them is there no sign of public gratitude? no kind or consoling
+word from august lips? Why do we not see in France, a single workman
+wearing a medal as a reward for his courageous industry, his long and
+laborious career? The token and the little pension attached to it, would
+be to him a double recompense, justly deserved. But, no! for humble
+labor that sustains the State, there is only forgetfulness, injustice,
+indifference, and disdain!
+
+By this neglect of the public, often aggravated by individual
+selfishness and ingratitude, our workmen are placed in a deplorable
+situation.
+
+Some of them, notwithstanding their incessant toil, lead a life of
+privations, and die before their time cursing the social system that
+rides over them. Others find a temporary oblivion of their ills in
+destructive intoxication. Others again--in great number--having no
+interest, no advantage, no moral or physical inducement to do more or
+better, confine themselves strictly to just that amount of labor which
+will suffice to earn their wages. Nothing attaches them to their work,
+because nothing elevates, honors, glorifies it in their eyes. They have
+no defence against the reductions of indolence; and if, by some chance,
+they find means of living awhile in repose, they give way by degrees to
+habits of laziness and debauchery, and sometimes the worst passions soil
+forever natures originally willing, healthy and honest--and all for
+want of that protecting and equitable superintendence which should have
+sustained, encouraged, and recompensed their first worthy and laborious
+tendencies.
+
+We now follow Mother Bunch, who after seeking for work from the person
+that usually employed her, went to the Rue de Babylone, to the lodge
+lately occupied by Adrienne de Cardoville.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. FLORINE.
+
+While the Bacchanal Queen and Sleepinbuff terminated so sadly the most
+joyous portion of their existence, the sempstress arrived at the door of
+the summer-house in the Rue de Babylone.
+
+Before ringing she dried her tears; a new grief weighed upon her
+spirits. On quitting the tavern, she had gone to the house of the person
+who usually found her in work; but she was told that she could not have
+any because it could be done a third more cheaply by women in prison.
+Mother Bunch, rather than lose her last resource, offered to take it at
+the third less; but the linen had been already sent out; and the
+girl could not hope for employment for a fortnight to come, even if
+submitting to this reduction of wages. One may conceive the anguish of
+the poor creature; the prospect before her was to die of hunger, if
+she would not beg or steal. As for her visit to the lodge in the Rue de
+Babylone, it will be explained presently.
+
+She rang the bell timidly; a few minutes after, Florine opened the door
+to her. The waiting-maid was no longer adorned after the charming taste
+of Adrienne; on the contrary, she was dressed with an affectation of
+austere simplicity. She wore a high-necked dress of a dark color, made
+full enough to conceal the light elegance of her figure. Her bands of
+jet-black hair were hardly visible beneath the flat border of a starched
+white cap, very much resembling the head-dress of a nun. Yet, in spite
+of this unornamental costume, Florine's pale countenance was still
+admirably beautiful.
+
+We have said that, placed by former misconduct at the mercy of Rodin
+and M. d'Aigrigny, Florine had served them as a spy upon her mistress,
+notwithstanding the marks of kindness and confidence she had received
+from her. Yet Florine was not entirely corrupted; and she often suffered
+painful, but vain, remorse at the thought of the infamous part she was
+thus obliged to perform.
+
+At the sight of Mother Bunch, whom she recognized--for she had told
+her, the day before, of Agricola's arrest and Mdlle. de Cardoville's
+madness--Florine recoiled a step, so much was she moved with pity at the
+appearance of the young sempstress. In fact, the idea of being thrown
+out of work, in the midst of so many other painful circumstances, had
+made a terrible impression upon the young workwoman, the traces of
+recent tears furrowed her cheeks--without her knowing it, her features
+expressed the deepest despair--and she appeared so exhausted, so weak,
+so overcome, that Florine offered her arm to support her, and said to
+her kindly: "Pray walk in and rest yourself; you are very pale, and seem
+to be ill and fatigued."
+
+So saying, Florine led her into a small room; with fireplace and carpet,
+and made her sit down in a tapestried armchair by the side of a good
+fire. Georgette and Hebe had been dismissed, and Florine was left alone
+in care of the house.
+
+When her guest was seated, Florine said to her with an air of interest:
+"Will you not take anything? A little orange flower-water and sugar,
+warm."
+
+"I thank you, mademoiselle," said Mother Bunch, with emotion, so easily
+was her gratitude excited by the least mark of kindness; she felt, too,
+a pleasing surprise, that her poor garments had not been the cause of
+repugnance or disdain on the part of Florine.
+
+"I thank you, mademoiselle," said she, "but I only require a little
+rest, for I come from a great distance. If you will permit me--"
+
+"Pray rest yourself as long as you like, mademoiselle; I am alone in
+this pavilion since the departure of my poor mistress,"--here Florine
+blushed and sighed;--"so, pray make yourself quite at home. Draw near
+the fire--you wilt be more comfortable--and, gracious! how wet your feet
+are!--place them upon this stool."
+
+The cordial reception given by Florine, her handsome face and agreeable
+manners, which were not those of an ordinary waiting-maid, forcibly
+struck Mother Bunch, who, notwithstanding her humble condition, was
+peculiarly susceptible to the influence of everything graceful
+and delicate. Yielding, therefore, to these attractions, the young
+sempstress, generally so timid and sensitive, felt herself almost at her
+ease with Florine.
+
+"How obliging you are, mademoiselle!" said she in a grateful tone. "I am
+quite confused with your kindness."
+
+"I wish I could do you some greater service than offer you a place at
+the fire, mademoiselle. Your appearance is so good and interesting."
+
+"Oh, mademoiselle!" said the other, with simplicity, almost in spite
+of herself; "it does one so much good to sit by a warm fire!" Then,
+fearing, in her extreme delicacy, that she might be thought capable of
+abusing the hospitality of her entertainer, by unreasonably prolonging
+her visit, she added: "the motive that has brought me here is this.
+Yesterday, you informed me that a young workman, named Agricola Baudoin,
+had been arrested in this house."
+
+"Alas! yes, mademoiselle. At the moment, too, when my poor mistress was
+about to render him assistance."
+
+"I am Agricola's adopted sister," resumed Mother Bunch, with a slight
+blush; "he wrote to me yesterday evening from prison. He begged me to
+tell his father to come here as soon as possible, in order to inform
+Mdlle. de Cardoville that he, Agricola, had important matters to
+communicate to her, or to any person that she might send; but that he
+could not venture to mention them in a letter, as he did not know if
+the correspondence of prisoners might not be read by the governor of the
+prison."
+
+"What!" said Florine, with surprise; "to my mistress, M. Agricola has
+something of importance to communicate?"
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle; for, up to this time, Agricola is ignorant of the
+great calamity that has befallen Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"True; the attack was indeed so sudden," said Florine, casting down her
+eyes, "that no one could have foreseen it."
+
+"It must have been so," answered Mother Bunch; "for, when Agricola saw
+Mdlle. de Cardoville for the first time, he returned home, struck with
+her grace, and delicacy, and goodness."
+
+"As were all who approached my mistress," said Florine, sorrowfully.
+
+"This morning," resumed the sewing-girl, "when, according to Agricola's
+instructions, I wished to speak to his father on the subject, I found
+him already gone out, for he also is a prey to great anxieties; but
+my adopted brother's letter appeared to me so pressing, and to involve
+something of such consequence to Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had shown
+herself so generous towards him, that I came here immediately."
+
+"Unfortunately, as you already know, my mistress is no longer here."
+
+"But is there no member of her family to whom, if I could not speak
+myself, I might at least send word by you, that Agricola has something
+to communicate of importance to this young lady?"
+
+"It is strange!" said Florine, reflecting, and without replying. Then,
+turning towards the sempstress, she added: "You are quite ignorant of
+the nature of these revelations?"
+
+"Completely so, mademoiselle; but I know Agricola. He is all honor and
+truth, and you may believe whatever he affirms. Besides, he would have
+no interest--"
+
+"Good gracious!" interrupted Florine, suddenly, as if struck with a
+sadden light; "I have just remembered something. When he was arrested
+in a hiding-place where my mistress had concealed him, I happened to
+be close at hand, and M. Agricola said to me, in a quick whisper: 'Tell
+your generous mistress that her goodness to me will not go unrewarded,
+and that my stay in that hiding-place may not be useless to her.'
+That was all he could say to me, for they hurried him off instantly. I
+confess that I saw in those words only the expression of his gratitude,
+and his hope of proving it one day to my mistress; but now that I
+connect them with the letter he has written you--" said Florine,
+reflecting.
+
+"Indeed!" remarked Mother Bunch, "there is certainly some connection
+between his hiding-place here and the important secrets which he wishes
+to communicate to your mistress, or one of her family."
+
+"The hiding-place had neither been inhabited nor visited for some time,"
+said Florine, with a thoughtful air; "M. Agricola may have found therein
+something of interest to my mistress."
+
+"If his letter had not appeared to me so pressing," resumed the other,
+"I should not have come hither; but have left him to do so himself, on
+his release from prison, which now, thanks to the generosity of one of
+his old fellow-workmen, cannot be very distant. But, not knowing if
+bail would be accepted to-day, I have wished faithfully to perform his
+instructions. The generous kindness of your mistress made it my first
+duty."
+
+Like all persons whose better instincts are still roused from time to
+time, Florine felt a sort of consolation in doing good whenever she
+could with impunity--that is to say, without exposing herself to the
+inexorable resentments of those on whom she depended. Thanks to Mother
+Bunch, she might now have an opportunity of rendering a great service to
+her mistress. She knew enough of the Princess de Saint-Dizier's hatred
+of her niece, to feel certain that Agricola's communication could not,
+from its very importance, be made with safety to any but Mdlle. de
+Cardoville herself. She therefore said very gravely: "Listen to me,
+mademoiselle! I will give you a piece of advice which will, I think, be
+useful to my poor mistress--but which would be very fatal to me if you
+did not attend to my recommendations."
+
+"How so, mademoiselle?" said the hunchback, looking at Florine with
+extreme surprise.
+
+"For the sake of my mistress, M. Agricola must confide to no one, except
+herself, the important things he has to communicate."
+
+"But, if he cannot see Mdlle. Adrienne, may he not address himself to
+some of her family?"
+
+"It is from her family, above all, that he must conceal whatever he
+knows. Mdlle. Adrienne may recover, and then M. Agricola can speak to
+her. But should she never get well again, tell your adopted brother that
+it is better for him to keep his secret than to place it (which would
+infallibly happen) at the disposal of the enemies of my mistress."
+
+"I understand you, mademoiselle," said Mother Bunch, sadly. "The family
+of your generous mistress do not love her, and perhaps persecute her?"
+
+"I cannot tell you more on this subject now; and, as regards myself, let
+me conjure you to obtain M. Agricola's promise that he will not mention
+to any one in the world the step you have taken, or the advice I have
+given you. The happiness--no, not the happiness," resumed Florine
+bitterly, as if that were a lost hope, "not the happiness--but the peace
+of my life depends upon your discretion."
+
+"Oh! be satisfied!" said the sewing-girl, both affected and amazed
+by the sorrowful expression of Florine's countenance; "I will not be
+ungrateful. No one in the world but Agricola shall know that I have seen
+you."
+
+"Thank you--thank you, mademoiselle," cried Florine, with emotion.
+
+"Do you thank me?" said the other, astonished to see the large tears
+roll down her cheeks.
+
+"Yes! I am indebted to you for a moment of pure, unmixed happiness; for
+I have perhaps rendered a service to my dear mistress, without risking
+the increase of the troubles that already overwhelm me."
+
+"You are not happy, then?"
+
+"That astonishes you; but, believe me, whatever may be, your fate, I
+would gladly change with you."
+
+"Alas, mademoiselle!" said the sempstress: "you appear to have too good
+a heart, for me to let you entertain such a wish--particularly now."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I hope sincerely, mademoiselle," proceeded Mother Bunch, with deep
+sadness, "that you may never know what it is to want work, when labor is
+your only resource."
+
+"Are you reduced to that extremity?" cried Florine, looking anxiously
+at the young sempstress, who hung her head, and made no answer. She
+reproached herself, in her excessive delicacy, with having made a
+communication which resembled a complaint, though it had only been wrung
+from her by the thought of her dreadful situation.
+
+"If it is so," went on Florine, "I pity you with all my heart; and yet I
+know not, if my misfortunes are not still greater than yours."
+
+Then, after a moment's reflection, Florine exclaimed, suddenly: "But let
+me see! If you are really in that position, I think I can procure you
+some work."
+
+"Is it possible, mademoiselle?" cried Mother Bunch. "I should never have
+dared to ask you such a service; but your generous offer commands my
+confidence, and may save me from destruction. I will confess to you,
+that, only this morning, I was thrown out of an employment which enabled
+me to earn four francs a week."
+
+"Four francs a week!" exclaimed Florine, hardly able to believe what she
+heard.
+
+"It was little, doubtless," replied the other; "but enough for me.
+Unfortunately, the person who employed me, has found out where it can be
+done still cheaper."
+
+"Four francs a week!" repeated Florine, deeply touched by so much misery
+and resignation. "Well! I think I can introduce you to persons, who will
+secure you wages of at least two francs a day."
+
+"I could earn two francs a day? Is it possible?"
+
+"Yes, there is no doubt of it; only, you will have to go out by the day,
+unless you chose to take a pace as servant."
+
+"In my position," said Mother Bunch, with a mixture of timidity and
+pride, "one has no right, I know, to be overnice; yet I should prefer to
+go out by the day, and still more to remain at home, if possible, even
+though I were to gain less."
+
+"To go out is unfortunately an indispensable condition," said Florine.
+
+"Then I must renounce this hope," answered Mother Bunch, timidly; "not
+that I refuse to go out to work--but those who do so, are expected to be
+decently clad--and I confess without shame, because there is no disgrace
+in honest poverty, that I have no better clothes than these."
+
+"If that be all," said Florine, hastily, "they will find you the means
+of dressing yourself properly."
+
+Mother Bunch looked at Florine with increasing surprise. These offers
+were so much above what she could have hoped, and what indeed was
+generally earned by needlewomen, that she could hardly credit them.
+
+"But," resumed she, with hesitation, "why should any one be so generous
+to me, mademoiselle? How should I deserve such high wages?"
+
+Florine started. A natural impulse of the heart, a desire to be useful
+to the sempstress, whose mildness and resignation greatly interested
+her, had led her to make a hasty proposition; she knew at what price
+would have to be purchased the advantages she proposed, and she now
+asked herself, if the hunchback would ever accept them on such terms.
+But Florine had gone too far to recede, and she durst not tell all. She
+resolved, therefore, to leave the future to chance and as those,
+who have themselves fallen, are little disposed to believe in the
+infallibility of others, Florine said to herself, that perhaps in
+the desperate position in which she was, Mother Bunch would not be so
+scrupulous after all. Therefore she said: "I see, mademoiselle, that you
+are astonished at offers so much above what you usually gain; but I
+must tell you, that I am now speaking of a pious institution, founded
+to procure work for deserving young women. This establishment, which is
+called St. Mary's Society, undertakes to place them out as servants,
+or by the day as needlewomen. Now this institution is managed by such
+charitable persons, that they themselves undertake to supply an
+outfit, when the young women, received under their protection are not
+sufficiently well clothed to accept the places destined for them."
+
+This plausible explanation of Florine's magnificent offers appeared to
+satisfy the hearer. "I can now understand the high wages of which
+you speak, mademoiselle," resumed she; "only I have no claim to be
+patronized by the charitable persons who direct this establishment."
+
+"You suffer--you are laborious and honest--those are sufficient claims;
+only, I must tell you, they will ask if you perform regularly your
+religious duties."
+
+"No one loves and blesses God more fervently than I do, mademoiselle,"
+said the hunchback, with mild firmness; "but certain duties are an
+affair of conscience, and I would rather renounce this patronage, than
+be compelled--"
+
+"Not the least in the world. Only, as I told you, there are very pious
+persons at the head of this institution, and you must not be astonished
+at their questions on such a subject. Make the trial, at all events;
+what do you risk? If the propositions are suitable--accept them; if, on
+the contrary, they should appear to touch your liberty of conscience,
+you can always refuse--your position will not be the worse for it."
+
+Mother Bunch had nothing to object to this reasoning which left her at
+perfect freedom, and disarmed her of all suspicion. "On these terms,
+mademoiselle," said she, "I accept your offer, and thank you with all my
+heart. But who will introduce me?"
+
+"I will--to-morrow, if you please."
+
+"But they will perhaps desire to make some inquiries about me."
+
+"The venerable Mother Sainte-Perpetue, Superior of St, Mary's Convent,
+where the institution is established, will, I am sure, appreciate your
+good qualities without inquiry; but if otherwise, she will tell you, and
+you can easily satisfy her. It is then agreed--to-morrow."
+
+"Shall I call upon you here, mademoiselle?"
+
+"No; as I told you before, they must not know that you came here on the
+part of M. Agricola, and a second visit might be discovered, and excite
+suspicion. I will come and fetch you in a coach; where do you live?"
+
+"At No. 3, Rue Brise-Miche; as you are pleased to give yourself so
+much trouble, mademoiselle, you have only to ask the dyer, who acts as
+porter, to call down Mother Bunch."
+
+"Mother Bunch?" said Florine, with surprise.
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle," answered the sempstress, with a sad smile; "it is
+the name every one gives me. And you see," added the hunchback, unable
+to restrain a tear, "it is because of my ridiculous infirmity, to which
+this name alludes, that I dread going out to work among strangers,
+because there are so many people who laugh at one, without knowing the
+pain they occasion. But," continued she, drying her eyes, "I have no
+choice, and must make up my mind to it."
+
+Florine, deeply affected, took the speaker's hand, and said to her: "Do
+not fear. Misfortunes like yours must inspire compassion, not ridicule.
+May I not inquire for you by your real name?"
+
+"It is Magdalen Soliveau; but I repeat, mademoiselle, that you had
+better ask for Mother Bunch, as I am hardly known by any other name."
+
+"I will, then, be in the Rue Brise-Miche to-morrow, at twelve o'clock."
+
+"Oh, mademoiselle! How can I ever requite your goodness?"
+
+"Don't speak of it: I only hope my interference may be of use to you.
+But of this you must judge for yourself. As for M. Agricola, do not
+answer his letter; wait till he is out of prison, and then tell him to
+keep his secret till he can see my poor mistress."
+
+"And where is the dear young lady now?"
+
+"I cannot tell you. I do not know where they took her, when she was
+attacked with this frenzy. You will expect me to-morrow?"
+
+"Yes--to-morrow," said Mother Bunch.
+
+The convent whither Florine was to conduct the hunchback contained the
+daughters of Marshal Simon, and was next door to the lunatic asylum of
+Dr. Baleinier, in which Adrienne de Cardoville was confined.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MOTHER SAINTE-PERPETUE.
+
+St. Mary's Convent, whither the daughters of Marshal Simon had been
+conveyed, was a large old building, the vast garden of which was on
+the Boulevard de l'Hopital, one of the most retired places in Paris,
+particularly at this period. The following scenes took place on the 12th
+February, the eve of the fatal day, on which the members of the family
+of Rennepont, the last descendants of the sister of the Wandering Jew,
+were to meet together in the Rue St. Francois. St. Mary's Convent was a
+model of perfect regularity. A superior council, composed of influential
+ecclesiastics, with Father d'Aigrigny for president, and of women of
+great reputed piety, at the head of whom was the Princess de Saint
+Dizier, frequently assembled in deliberation, to consult on the means
+of extending and strengthening the secret and powerful influence of this
+establishment, which had already made remarkable progress.
+
+Skillful combinations and deep foresight had presided at the foundation
+of St. Mary's Convent, which, in consequence of numerous donations,
+possessed already real estate to a great extent, and was daily
+augmenting its acquisitions. The religious community was only a pretext;
+but, thanks to an extensive connection, kept up by means of the most
+decided members of the ultramontane (i. e. high-church) party, a great
+number of rich orphans were placed in the convent, there to receive a
+solid, austere, religious education, very preferable, it was said, to
+the frivolous instruction which might be had in the fashionable boarding
+schools, infected by the corruption of the age. To widows also, and
+lone women who happened moreover to be rich, the convent offered a sure
+asylum from the dangers and temptations of the world; in this peaceful
+retreat, they enjoyed a delightful calm, and secured their salvation,
+whilst surrounded by the most tender and affectionate attentions. Nor
+was this all. Mother Sainte-Perpetue, the superior of the convent,
+undertook in the name of the institution to procure for the faithful,
+who wished to preserve the interior of their houses from the depravity
+of the age, companions for aged ladies, domestic servants, or
+needlewomen working by the day, all selected persons whose morality
+could be warranted. Nothing would seem more worthy of sympathy and
+encouragement than such an institution; but we shall presently unveil
+the vast and dangerous network of intrigue concealed under
+these charitable and holy appearances. The lady Superior, Mother
+Sainte-Perpetue, was a tall woman of about forty years of age, clad in a
+stuff dress of the Carmelite tan color, and wearing a long rosary at her
+waist; a white cap tied under the chin, and a long black veil, closely
+encircled her thin, sallow face. A number of deep wrinkles had impressed
+their transverse furrows in her forehead of yellow ivory; her marked and
+prominent nose was bent like the beak of a bird of prey; her black eye
+was knowing and piercing; the expression of her countenance was at once
+intelligent, cold and firm.
+
+In the general management of the pecuniary affairs of the community,
+Mother Sainte-Perpetue would have been a match for the most cunning
+attorney. When women are possessed of what is called a talent for
+business, and apply to it their keen penetration, their indefatigable
+perseverance, their prudent dissimulation, and, above all, that quick
+and exact insight, which is natural to them, the results are often
+prodigious. To Mother Sainte-Perpetue, a woman of the coolest and
+strongest intellect, the management of the vast transactions of the
+community was mere child's play. No one knew better how to purchase a
+depreciated property, to restore it to its former value, and then sell
+it with advantage; the price of stock, the rate of exchange, the current
+value of the shares in the different companies, were all familiar to
+her; she had yet never been known to make bad speculation, when the
+question was to invest any of the funds which were given by pious souls
+for the purposes of the convent. She had established in the house the
+utmost order and discipline, and, above all, an extreme economy. The
+constant aim of all her efforts was to enrich, not herself, but the
+community she directed; for the spirit of association, when become a
+collective egotism, gives to corporations the faults and vices of an
+individual. Thus a congregation may dote upon power and money, just as
+a miser loves them for their own sake. But it is chiefly with regard to
+estates that congregations act like a single man. They dream of landed
+property; it is their fixed idea, their fruitful monomania. They pursue
+it with their most sincere, and warm, and tender wishes.
+
+The first estate is to a rising little community what the wedding
+trousseau is to a young bride, his first horse to a youth, his first
+success to a poet, to a gay girl her first fifty-guinea shawl; because,
+after all, in this material age, an estate gives a certain rank to a
+society on the Religious Exchange, and has so much the more effect upon
+the simple-minded, that all these partnerships in the work of salvation,
+which end by becoming immensely rich, begin with modest poverty as
+social stock-in-trade, and charity towards their neighbors as security
+reserve fund. We may therefore imagine what bitter and ardent rivalry
+must exist between the different congregations with regard to the
+various estates that each can lay claim to; with what ineffable
+satisfaction the richer society crushes the poorer beneath its inventory
+of houses, and farms and paper securities! Envy and hateful jealousy,
+rendered still more irritable by the leisure of a cloistered life, are
+the necessary consequences of such a comparison; and yet nothing is less
+Christian--in the adorable acceptation of that divine word--nothing has
+less in common with the true, essential, and religiously social spirit
+of the gospel, than this insatiable ardor to acquire wealth by every
+possible means--this dangerous avidity, which is far from being atoned
+for, in the eyes of public opinion, by a few paltry alms, bestowed in
+the narrow spirit of exclusion and intolerance.
+
+Mother Sainte-Perpetue was seated before a large cylindrical-fronted
+desk in the centre of an apartment simply but comfortably furnished.
+An excellent fire burned within the marble chimney, and a soft carpet
+covered the floor. The superior, to whom all letters addressed to the
+sisters or the boarders were every day delivered, had just been opening
+she first, according to her acknowledged right, and carefully unsealing
+the second, without their knowing it, according to a right that she
+ascribed to herself, of course, with a view to the salvation of those
+dear creatures; and partly, perhaps, a little to make herself acquainted
+with their correspondence, for she also had imposed on herself the duty
+of reading all letters that were sent from the convent, before they were
+put into the post. The traces of this pious and innocent inquisition
+were easily effaced, for the good mother possessed a whole arsenal of
+steel tools, some very sharp, to cut the pager imperceptibly round the
+seal--others, pretty little rods, to be slightly heated and rolled round
+the edge of the seal, when the letter had been read and replaced in its
+envelope, so that the wax, spreading as it melted, might cover the first
+incision. Moreover, from a praiseworthy feeling of justice and equality,
+there was in the arsenal of the good mother a little fumigator of the
+most ingenious construction, the damp and dissolving vapor of which was
+reserved for the letters humbly and modestly secured with wafers, thus
+softened, they yielded to the least efforts, without any tearing of the
+paper. According to the importance of the revelations, which she thus
+gleaned from the writers of the letters, the superior took notes more or
+less extensive. She was interrupted in this investigation by two gentle
+taps at the bolted door. Mother Sainte-Perpetue immediately let down the
+sliding cylinder of her cabinet, so as to cover the secret arsenal, and
+went to open the door with a grave and solemn air. A lay sister came to
+announce to her that the Princess de Saint-Dizier was waiting for her
+in the parlor, and that Mdlle. Florine, accompanied by a young girl,
+deformed and badly dressed, was waiting at the door of the little
+corridor.
+
+"Introduce the princess first," said Mother Sainte Perpetue. And, with
+charming forethought, she drew an armchair to the fire. Mme. de Saint
+Dizier entered.
+
+Without pretensions to juvenile coquetry, still the princess was
+tastefully and elegantly dressed. She wore a black velvet bonnet of the
+most fashionable make, a large blue cashmere shawl, and a black satin
+dress, trimmed with sable, to match the fur of her muff.
+
+"To what good fortune am I again to-day indebted for the honor of your
+visit, my dear daughter?" said the superior, graciously.
+
+"A very important recommendation, my dear mother, though I am in a
+great hurry. I am expected at the house of his Eminence, and have,
+unfortunately, only a few minutes to spare. I have again to speak of the
+two orphans who occupied our attention so long yesterday."
+
+"They continue to be kept separate, according to your wish; and this
+separation has had such an effect upon them that I have been obliged
+to send this morning for Dr. Baleinier, from his asylum. He found much
+fever joined to great depression, and, singular enough, absolutely the
+same symptoms in both cases. I have again questioned these unfortunate
+creatures, and have been quite confounded and terrified to find them
+perfect heathens."
+
+"It was, you see, very urgent to place them in your care. But to the
+subject of my visit, my dear mother: we have just learned the unexpected
+return of the soldier who brought these girls to France, and was thought
+to be absent for some days; but he is in Paris, and, notwithstanding his
+age, a man of extraordinary boldness, enterprise and energy. Should he
+discover that the girls are here (which, however, is fortunately
+almost impossible), in his rage at seeing them removed from his impious
+influence, he would be capable of anything. Therefore let me entreat
+you, my dear mother, to redouble your precautions, that no one may
+effect an entrance by night. This quarter of the town is so deserted!"
+
+"Be satisfied, my dear daughter; we are sufficiently guarded. Our porter
+and gardeners, all well armed, make a round every night on the side
+of the Boulevard de l'Hopital. The walls are high, and furnished with
+spikes at the more accessible places. But I thank you, my dear daughter,
+for having warned me. We will redouble our precautions."
+
+"Particularly this night, my dear mother."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Because if this infernal soldier has the audacity to attempt such a
+thing, it will be this very night."
+
+"How do you know, my dear daughter?"
+
+"We have information which makes us certain of it," replied the
+princess, with a slight embarrassment, which did not escape the notice
+of the Superior, though she was too crafty and reserved to appear to see
+it; only she suspected that many things were concealed from her.
+
+"This night, then," resumed Mother Sainte-Perpetue, "we will be more
+than ever on our guard. But as I have the pleasure of seeing you, my
+dear daughter, I will take the opportunity to say a word or two on the
+subject of that marriage we mentioned."
+
+"Yes, my dear mother," said the princess, hastily, "for it is very
+important. The young Baron de Brisville is a man full of ardent devotion
+in these times of revolutionary impiety; he practises openly, and is
+able to render us great services. He is listened to in the Chamber, and
+does not want for a sort of aggressive and provoking eloquence; I know
+not any one whose tone is more insolent with regard to his faith, and
+the plan is a good one, for this cavalier and open manner of speaking
+of sacred things raises and excites the curiosity of the indifferent.
+Circumstances are happily such that he may show the most audacious
+violence towards our enemies, without the least danger to himself,
+which, of course, redoubles his ardor as a would-be martyr. In a
+word, he is altogether ours, and we, in return, must bring about this
+marriage. You know, besides, my dear mother, that he proposes to offer
+a donation of a hundred thousand francs to St. Mary's the day he gains
+possession of the fortune of Mdlle. Baudricourt."
+
+"I have never doubted the excellent intentions of M. de Brisville
+with regard to an institution which merits the sympathy of all pious
+persons," answered the superior, discreetly; "but I did not expect to
+meet with so many obstacles on the part of the young lady."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"This girl, whom I always believed a most simple, submissive, timid,
+almost idiotic person--instead of being delighted with this proposal of
+marriage, asks time to consider!"
+
+"It is really pitiable!"
+
+"She opposes to me an inert resistance. It is in vain for me to speak
+severely, and tell her that, having no parents or friends, and being
+absolutely confided to my care, she ought to see with my eyes, hear with
+my ears, and when I affirm that this union is suitable in all respects,
+give her adhesion to it without delay or reflection."
+
+"No doubt. It would be impossible to speak more sensibly."
+
+"She answers that she wishes to see M. de Brisville, and know his
+character before being engaged."
+
+"It is absurd--since you undertake to answer for his morality, and
+esteem this a proper marriage."
+
+"Therefore, I remarked to Mdlle. Baudricourt, this morning, that till
+now I had only employed gentle persuasion, but that, if she forced me
+to it, I should be obliged, in her own interest, to act with rigor, to
+conquer so much obstinacy that I should have to separate her from her
+companions, and to confine her closely in a cell, until she made up her
+mind, after all, to consult her own happiness, and--marry an honorable
+man."
+
+"And these menaces, my dear mother?"
+
+"Will, I hope, have a good effect. She kept up a correspondence with
+an old school-friend in the country. I have put a stop to this, for it
+appeared to me dangerous. She is now under my sole influence, and I hope
+we shall attain our ends; but you see, my dear daughter, it is never
+without crosses and difficulties that we succeed in doing good!"
+
+"And I feel certain that M. de Brisville will even go beyond his first
+promise, and I will pledge myself for him, that, should he marry Mdlle.
+Baudricourt--"
+
+"You know, my dear daughter," said the superior, interrupting the
+princess, "that if I were myself concerned, I would refuse everything;
+but to give to this institution is to give to Heaven, and I cannot
+prevent M. de Brisville from augmenting the amount of his good works.
+Then, you see, we are exposed to a sad disappointment."
+
+"What is that, my dear mother?"
+
+"The Sacred Heart Convent disputes an estate with us that would have
+suited us exactly. Really, some people are quite insatiable! I gave the
+lady superior my opinion upon it pretty freely."
+
+"She told me as much," answered Madame de Saint-Dizier, "and laid the
+blame on the steward."
+
+"Oh! so you see her, my dear daughter?" exclaimed the superior, with an
+air of great surprise.
+
+"I met her at the bishop's," answered Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a
+slight degree of hesitation, that Mother Sainte-Perpetue did not appear
+to notice.
+
+"I really do not know," resumed the latter, "why our establishment
+should excite so violently the jealousy of the Sacred Heart. There is
+not an evil report that they have not spread with regard to St. Mary's
+Convent. Certain persons are always offended by the success of their
+neighbors!"
+
+"Come, my dear mother," said the princess, in a conciliating tone, "we
+must hope that the donation of M. de Brisville will enable you to outbid
+the Sacred Heart. This marriage will have a double advantage, you see,
+my dear mother; it will place a large fortune at the disposal of a man
+who is devoted to us, and who will employ it as we wish; and it will
+also greatly increase the importance of his position as our defender,
+by the addition to his income of 100,000 francs a year. We shall have at
+length an organ worthy of our cause, and shall no longer be obliged to
+look for defenders amongst such people as that Dumoulin."
+
+"There is great power and much learning in the writings of the man you
+name. It is the style of a Saint Bernard, in wrath at the impiety of the
+age."
+
+"Alas, my dear mother! if you only knew what a strange Saint Bernard
+this Dumoulin is! But I will not offend your ears; all I can tell you
+is, that such defenders would compromise the most sacred cause. Adieu,
+my dear mother! pray redouble your precautions to-night--the return of
+this soldier is alarming."
+
+"Be quite satisfied, my dear daughter! Oh! I forgot. Mdlle. Florine
+begged me to ask you a favor. It is to let her enter your service. You
+know the fidelity she displayed in watching your unfortunate niece; I
+think that, by rewarding her in this way, you will attach her to you
+completely, and I shall feel grateful on her account."
+
+"If you interest yourself the least in the world in Florine, my dear
+mother, the thing is done. I will take her into my service. And now it
+strikes me, she may be more useful to me than I thought."
+
+"A thousand thanks, my dear daughter, for such obliging attention to my
+request. I hope we shall soon meet again. The day after to-morrow, at
+two o'clock, we have a long conference with his Eminence and the Bishop;
+do not forget!"
+
+"No, my dear mother; I shall take care to be exact. Only, pray, redouble
+your precautions to-night for fear of a great scandal!"
+
+After respectfully kissing the hand of the superior, the princess
+went out by the great door, which led to an apartment opening on the
+principal staircase. Some minutes after, Florine entered the room by
+another way. The superior was seated and Florine approached her with
+timid humility.
+
+"Did you meet the Princess de Saint-Dizier?" asked Mother Sainte
+Perpetue.
+
+"No, mother; I was waiting in the passage, where the windows look out on
+the garden."
+
+"The princess takes you into her service from to-day," said the
+superior.
+
+Florine made a movement of sorrowful surprise, and exclaimed: "Me,
+mother! but--"
+
+"I asked her in your name, and you have only to accept," answered the
+other imperiously.
+
+"But, mother, I had entreated you--"
+
+"I tell you, that you accept the offer," said the superior, in so firm
+and positive a tone that Florine cast down her eyes, and replied in a
+low voice: "I accept."
+
+"It is in M. Rodin's name that I give you this order."
+
+"I thought so, mother," replied Florine, sadly; "on what conditions am I
+to serve the princess?"
+
+"On the same conditions as those on which you served her niece."
+
+Florine shuddered and said: "I am, then, to make frequent secret reports
+with regard to the princess?"
+
+"You will observe, you will remember, and you will give an account."
+
+"Yes, my mother."
+
+"You will above all direct your attention to the visits that the
+princess may receive from the lady superior of the Sacred Heart. You
+must try and listen--for we have to preserve the princess from evil
+influences."
+
+"I will obey, my mother."
+
+"You will also try and discover why two young orphans have been brought
+hither, and recommended to be severely treated, by Madame Grivois, the
+confidential waiting-woman of the princess."
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Which must not prevent you from remembering anything else that may be
+worthy of remark. To-morrow I will give you particular instructions upon
+another subject."
+
+"It is well, mother."
+
+"If you conduct yourself in a satisfactory manner, and execute
+faithfully the instructions of which I speak, you will soon leave the
+princess to enter the service of a young bride; it will be an excellent
+and lasting situation always on the same conditions. It is, therefore,
+perfectly understood that you have asked me to recommend you to Madame
+de Saint Dizier."
+
+"Yes, mother; I shall remember."
+
+"Who is this deformed young girl that accompanies you?"
+
+"A poor creature without any resources, very intelligent, and with an
+education above her class; she works at her needle, but is at present
+without employment, and reduced to the last extremity. I have made
+inquiries about her this morning; she has an excellent character."
+
+"She is ugly and deformed, you say?"
+
+"She has an interesting countenance, but she is deformed."
+
+The superior appeared pleased at this information, and added, after a
+moment's reflection: "She appears intelligent?"
+
+"Very intelligent."
+
+"And is absolutely without resources?"
+
+"Yes, without any."
+
+"Is she pious?"
+
+"She does not practice."
+
+"No matter," said the superior to herself; "if she be intelligent, that
+will suffice." Then she resumed aloud. "Do you know if she is a good
+workwoman?"
+
+"I believe so, mother."
+
+The superior rose, took a register from a shelf, appeared to be looking
+into it attentively for some time, and then said, as she replaced it:
+"Fetch in this young girl, and go and wait for me in the press-room."
+
+"Deformed--intelligent--clever at her needle," said the superior,
+reflecting; "she will excite no suspicion. We must see."
+
+In about a minute, Florine returned with Mother Bunch, whom she
+introduced to the superior, and then discreetly withdrew. The young
+sempstress was agitated, trembling, and much troubled, for she could, as
+it were, hardly believe a discovery which she had chanced to make during
+Florine's absence. It was not without a vague sense of terror that the
+hunchback remained alone with the lady superior.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE TEMPTATION.
+
+This was the cause of Mother Bunch's emotion. Florine, when she went to
+see the superior, had left the young sempstress in a passage supplied
+with benches, and forming a sort of ante-chamber on the first story.
+Being alone, the girl had mechanically approached a window which
+looked upon the convent garden, shut in by a half demolished wall, and
+terminating at one end in an open paling. This wall was connected with
+a chapel that was still building, and bordered on the garden of a
+neighboring house. The sewing-girl, at one of the windows on the ground
+floor of this house--a grated window, still more remarkable by the sort
+of tent-like awning above it--beheld a young female, with her eyes fixed
+upon the convent, making signs with her hand, at once encouraging and
+affectionate. From the window where she stood, Mother Bunch could not
+see to whom these signs were addressed; but she admired the rare beauty
+of the telegrapher, the brilliancy of her complexion, the shining
+blackness of her large eyes, the sweet and benevolent smile which
+lingered on her lips. There was, no doubt, some answer to her graceful
+and expressive pantomime, for, by a movement full of elegance, the girl
+laid her left hand on her bosom, and waved her right, which seemed to
+indicate that her heart flew towards the place on which she kept her
+eyes. One faint sunbeam, piercing the clouds, came at this moment to
+play with the tresses of the pale countenance, which, now held close
+to the bars of the window, was suddenly, as it were, illuminated by
+the dazzling reflection of her splendid golden hair. At sight of that
+charming face, set in its admirable frame of red curls, Mother Bunch
+started involuntarily; the thought of Mdlle. de Cardoville crossed her
+mind, and she felt persuaded (nor was she, indeed, mistaken), that
+the protectress of Agricola was before her. On thus beholding, in
+that gloomy asylum, this young lady, so marvellously beautiful, and
+remembering the delicate kindness with which a few days before she had
+received Agricola in her luxurious little palace of dazzling splendor,
+the work-girl felt her heart sink within her. She believed Adrienne
+insane; and yet, as she looked attentively at her, it seemed as if
+intelligence and grace animated that adorable countenance. Suddenly,
+Mdlle. de Cardoville laid her fingers upon her lips, blew a couple of
+kisses in the direction towards which she had been looking, and all
+at once disappeared. Reflecting upon the important revelations which
+Agricola had to make to Mdlle. de Cardoville, Mother Bunch regretted
+bitterly that she had no means of approaching her; for she felt sure
+that, if the young lady were mad, the present was a lucid interval.
+She was yet absorbed in these uneasy reflections, when she saw Florine
+return, accompanied by one of the nuns. Mother Bunch was obliged,
+therefore, to keep silence with regard to the discovery she had made,
+and soon after she found herself in the superior's presence. This
+latter, after a rapid and searching examination of the countenance of
+the young workwoman, judged her appearance so timid, gentle and honest,
+that she thought she might repose full confidence in the information
+given by Florine.
+
+"My dear daughter," said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in an affectionate
+voice, "Florine has told me in what a cruel situation you are placed. Is
+it true that you are entirely without work?"
+
+"Alas! yes, madame."
+
+"Call me mother, my dear daughter; that name is dearer to me, and it is
+the rule of our house. I need not ask you what are your principles?"
+
+"I have always lived honestly by my labor, mother," answered the girl,
+with a simplicity at once dignified and modest.
+
+"I believe you, my dear daughter, and I have good reasons for so doing.
+We must thank the Lord, who has delivered you from temptation; but tell
+me--are you clever at your trade?"
+
+"I do my best, mother, and have always satisfied my employers. If you
+please to try me, you will be able to judge."
+
+"Your affirmation is sufficient, my dear daughter. You prefer, I think,
+to go out by the day?"
+
+"Mdlle. Florine told me, mother, that I could not have work at home."
+
+"Why, no--not for the present, my child. If hereafter an opportunity
+should offer, I will think of it. Just now I have this to propose to
+you. A very respectable old lady has asked me to recommend to her a
+needle-woman by the day; introduced by me, you will certainly suit
+her. The institution will undertake to clothe you becomingly, and this
+advance we shall retain by degrees out of your wages, for you will look
+to us for payment. We propose to give you two francs a day; does that
+appear to you sufficient?"
+
+"Oh, mother! it is much more than I could have expected."
+
+"You will, moreover, only be occupied from nine o'clock in the morning
+till six in the evening; you will thus have still some off hours, of
+which you might make use. You see, the situation is not a hard one."
+
+"Oh! quite the contrary, mother."
+
+"I must tell you, first of all, with whom the institution intends to
+place you. It is a widow lady, named Mme. de Bremant, a person of the
+most steadfast piety. In her house, I hope, you will meet with none but
+excellent examples. If it should be otherwise, you can come and inform
+me."
+
+"How so, mother?" said the sewing-girl, with surprise.
+
+"Listen to me, my dear daughter," said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in a
+tone ever more and more affectionate; "the institution of St. Mary has
+a double end in view. You will perfectly understand that, if it is our
+duty to give to masters and mistresses every possible security as to the
+morality of the persons that we place in their families, we are likewise
+bound to give to the persons that we so place out every possible
+security as to the morality of their employers."
+
+"Nothing can be more just and of a wiser foresight, mother."
+
+"Naturally, my dear daughter; for even as a servant of bad morals may
+cause the utmost trouble in a respectable family, so the bad conduct of
+a master or mistress may have the most baneful influence on the persons
+who serve them, or who come to work in their houses. Now, it is to offer
+a mutual guarantee to good masters and honest servants, that we have
+founded this institution."
+
+"Oh, madame!" cried Mother Bunch, with simplicity; "such designs merit
+the thanks and blessings of every one."
+
+"And blessings do not fail us, my dear daughter, because we perform our
+promises. Thus, an interesting workwoman--such as you, for example--is
+placed with persons that we suppose irreproachable. Should she, however,
+perceive, on the part of her employers, or on that of the persons who
+frequent the house, any irregularity of morals, any tendency to what
+would offend her modesty, or shock her religious principles, she should
+immediately give us a detailed account of the circumstances that have
+caused her alarm. Nothing can be more proper--don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, mother," answered Mother Bunch, timidly, for she began to find
+this provision somewhat singular.
+
+"Then," resumed the superior, "if the case appears a serious one, we
+exhort our befriended one to observe what passes more attentively, so
+as to convince herself whether she had really reason to be alarmed.
+She makes a new report to us, and should it confirm our first fears,
+faithful to our pious guardianship, we withdraw her instantly from the
+house. Moreover, as the majority of our young people, notwithstanding
+their innocence and virtue, have not always sufficient experience to
+distinguish what may be injurious to their soul's health, we think it
+greatly to their interest that they should confide to us once a week, as
+a child would to her mother, either in person or by letter, whatever has
+chanced to occur in the house in which we have placed them. Then we can
+judge for them, whether to withdraw them or not. We have already about
+a hundred persons, companions to ladies, young women in shops, servants,
+and needlewomen by the day, whom we have placed in a great number
+of families, and, for the interest of all, we have every reason to
+congratulate ourselves on this mode of proceeding. You understand me, do
+you not, my dear daughter?"
+
+"Yes-yes, mother," said the sempstress, more and more embarrassed. She
+had too much uprightness and sagacity not to perceive that this plan of
+mutually insuring the morality of masters and servants resembled a vast
+spy system, brought home to the domestic hearth, and carried on by the
+members of the institution almost without their knowledge, for it would
+have been difficult to disguise more skillfully the employment for which
+they were trained.
+
+"If I have entered into these long details my dear daughter," resumed
+Mother Sainte-Perpetue, taking the hearer's silence for consent, "it
+is that you may not suppose yourself obliged to remain in the house in
+question, if, against our expectation, you should not find there holy
+and pious examples. I believe Mme. de Bremont's house to be a pure and
+godly place; only I have heard (though I will not believe it) that Mme.
+de Bremont's daughter, Mme. de Noisy, who has lately come to reside with
+her, is not so exemplary in her conduct as could be desired, that she
+does not fulfil regularly her religious duties, and that, during the
+absence of her husband, who is now in America, she receives visits,
+unfortunately too frequent, from one M. Hardy, a rich manufacturer."
+
+At the name of Agricola's master, Mother Bunch could not suppress a
+movement of surprise, and also blushed slightly. The superior
+naturally mistook this surprise and confusion for a proof of the modest
+susceptibility of the young sempstress, and added: "I have told you all
+this, my dear daughter, that you might be on your guard. I have even
+mentioned reports that I believe to be completely erroneous, for the
+daughter of Mme. de Bremont has always had such good examples before
+her that she cannot have so forgotten them. But, being in the house from
+morning to night, you will be able, better than any one, to discover if
+these reports have any foundation in truth. Should it unfortunately so
+turn out, my dear daughter, you would come and confide to me all the
+circumstances that have led you to such a conclusion; and, should I
+then agree in your opinion, I would withdraw you instantly from the
+house--for the piety of the mother would not compensate sufficiently for
+the deplorable example of the daughter's conduct. For, as soon as you
+form part of the institution, I am responsible for your salvation, and,
+in case your delicacy should oblige you to leave Mme. de Bremont's, as
+you might be some time without employment, the institution will allow
+you, if satisfied with your zeal and conduct, one franc a day till we
+could find you another place. You see, my dear daughter, that you have
+everything to gain with us. It is therefore agreed that the day after
+to-morrow you go to Mme. de Bremont's." Mother Bunch found herself in a
+very hard position. Sometimes she thought that her first suspicions were
+confirmed, and, notwithstanding her timidity, her pride felt hurt at the
+supposition, that, because they knew her poor, they should believe
+her capable of selling herself as a spy for the sake of high wages.
+Sometimes, on the contrary, her natural delicacy revolted at the idea
+that a woman of the age and condition of the superior could descend to
+make a proposition so disgraceful both to the accepter and the proposer,
+and she reproached herself with her first doubts and asked herself if
+the superior had not wished to try her, before employing her, to see if
+her probity would enable her to resist a comparatively brilliant offer.
+Mother Bunch was naturally so inclined to think well of every one, that
+she made up her mind to this last conclusion, saying to herself, that
+if, after all, she were deceived, it would be the least offensive mode
+of refusing these unworthy offers. With a movement, exempt from all
+haughtiness, but expressive of natural dignity, the young workman raised
+her head, which she had hitherto held humbly cast down, looked the
+superior full in the face, that the latter might read in her countenance
+the sincerity of her words, and said to her in a slightly agitated
+voice, forgetting this time to call her "mother": "Ah, madame! I cannot
+blame you for exposing me to such a trial. You see that I am very poor,
+and I have yet done nothing to command your confidence. But, believe
+me, poor as I am, I would never stoop to so despicable an action as
+that which you have thought fit to propose to me, no doubt to assure
+yourself, by my refusal, that I am worthy of your kindness. No, no,
+madame--I could never bring myself to be a spy at any price."
+
+She pronounced these last words with so much animation that her cheeks
+became slightly flushed. The superior had too much tact and experience
+not to perceive the sincerity of the words. Thinking herself lucky that
+the young girl should put this construction upon the affair, she smiled
+upon her affectionately, and stretched out her arms to her, saying: "It
+is well, my dear daughter. Come and embrace me!"
+
+"Mother--I am really confused--with so much kindness--"
+
+"No--you deserve it--your words are so full of truth and honesty. Only
+be persuaded that I have not put you to any trial, because there is no
+resemblance between the act of a spy and the marks of filial confidence
+that we require of our members for the sake of watching over their
+morals. But certain persons--I see you are of the number, my dear
+daughter--have such fixed principles, and so mature a judgment, that
+they can do without our advice and guardianship, and can appreciate
+themselves whatever might be dangerous to their salvation. I will
+therefore leave the entire responsibility to yourself, and only ask you
+for such communications as you may think proper to make."
+
+"Oh, madame! how good you are!" said poor Mother Bunch, for she was
+not aware of the thousand devices of the monastic spirit, and thought
+herself already sure of gaining just wages honorably.
+
+"It is not goodness--but justice!" answered Mother Sainte-Perpetue,
+whose tone was becoming more and more affectionate. "Too much tenderness
+cannot be shown to pious young women like you, whom poverty has only
+purified because they have always faithfully observed the divine laws."
+
+"Mother--"
+
+"One last question, my child! how many times a month do you approach the
+Lord's table?"
+
+"Madame," replied the hunchback, "I have not taken the sacrament since
+my first communion, eight years ago. I am hardly able, by working every
+day, and all day long, to earn my bread. I have no time--"
+
+"Gracious heaven!" cried the superior, interrupting, and clasping her
+hands with all the signs of painful astonishment. "Is it possible? you
+do not practise?"
+
+"Alas, madame! I tell you that I have no time," answered Mother Bunch,
+looking disconcertedly at Mother Saint-Perpetue.
+
+"I am grieved, my dear daughter," said the latter sorrowfully, after a
+moment's silence, "but I told you that, as we place our friends in none
+but pious houses, so we are asked to recommend none but pious persons,
+who practise their religious duties. It is one of the indispensable
+conditions of our institution. It will, therefore, to my great regret,
+be impossible for me to employ you as I had hoped. If, hereafter, you
+should renounce your present indifference to those duties, we will then
+see."
+
+"Madame," said Mother Bunch, her heart swollen with tears, for she
+was thus forced to abandon a cheering hope, "I beg pardon for having
+detained you so long--for nothing."
+
+"It is I, my dear daughter, who regret not to be able to attach you
+to the institution; but I am not altogether hopeless, that a person,
+already so worthy of interest, will one day deserve by her piety the
+lasting support of religious people. Adieu, my dear daughter! go in
+peace, and may God be merciful to you, until the day that you return
+with your whole heart to Him!"
+
+So saying, the superior rose, and conducted her visitor to the door,
+with all the forms of the most maternal kindness. At the moment she
+crossed the threshold, she said to her: "Follow the passage, go down
+a few steps, and knock at the second door on the right hand. It is the
+press-room, and there you will find Florine. She will show you the way
+out. Adieu, my dear daughter!"
+
+As soon as Mother Bunch had left the presence of the superior, her
+tears, until now restrained, gushed forth abundantly. Not wishing to
+appear before Florine and the nuns in this state, she stopped a moment
+at one of the windows to dry her eyes. As she looked mechanically
+towards the windows of the next house, where she fancied she had seen
+Adrienne de Cardoville, she beheld the latter come from a door in the
+building, and advance rapidly towards the open paling that separated the
+two gardens. At the same instant, and to her great astonishment, Mother
+Bunch saw one of the two sisters whose disappearance had caused the
+despair of Dagobert, with pale and dejected countenance, approach the
+fence that separated her from Mdlle. de Cardoville, trembling with fear
+and anxiety, as though she dreaded to be discovered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. MOTHER BUNCH AND MDLLE. DE CARDOVILLE.
+
+Agitated, attentive, uneasy, leaning from one of the convent-windows,
+the work-girl followed with her eyes the movements of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville and Rose Simon, whom she so little expected to find together
+in such a place. The orphan, approaching close to the fence, which
+separated the nunnery-garden from that of Dr. Baleinier's asylum, spoke
+a few words to Adrienne, whose features at once expressed astonishment,
+indignation, and pity. At this juncture, a nun came running, and
+looking right and left, as though anxiously seeking for some one; then,
+perceiving Rose, who timidly pressed close to the paling, she seized her
+by the arm, and seemed to scold her severely, and notwithstanding some
+energetic words addressed to her by Mdlle. de Cardoville, she hastily
+carried off the orphan, who with weeping eyes, turned several times to
+look back at Adrienne; whilst the latter, after showing the interest
+she took in her by expressive gestures, turned away suddenly, as if to
+conceal her tears.
+
+The passage in which the witness stood, during this touching scene, was
+situated on the first story. The thought immediately occurred to the
+sempstress, to go down to the ground-floor, and try to get into the
+garden, so that she might have an opportunity of speaking to the fair
+girl with the golden hair, and ascertaining if it were really Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, to whom; if she found her in a lucid interval, she might say
+that Agricola had things of the greatest importance to communicate, but
+that he did not know how to inform her of them. The day was advancing,
+the sun was on its decline, and fearing that Florine would be tired
+of waiting for her, Mother Bunch made haste to act; with a light step,
+listening anxiously as she went, she reached the end of the passage,
+where three or four stairs led down to the landing-place of the press
+room, and then formed a spiral descent to the ground-floor. Hearing
+voices in the pressroom, the sempstress hastened down the stairs, and
+found herself in a long passage, in the centre of which was a glass
+door, opening on that part of the garden reserved for the superior.
+A path, bordered by a high box-hedge, sheltered her from the gaze of
+curious eyes, and she crept along it, till she reached the open paling;
+which, at this spot, separated the convent-garden from that of Dr.
+Baleinier's asylum. She saw Mdlle. de Cardoville a few steps from her,
+seated, and with her arm resting upon a rustic bench. The firmness
+of Adrienne's character had for a moment been shaken by fatigue,
+astonishment, fright, despair, on the terrible night when she had
+been taken to the asylum by Dr. Baleinier; and the latter, taking a
+diabolical advantage of her weakness and despondency, had succeeded
+for a moment in making her doubt of her own sanity. But the calm, which
+necessarily follows the most painful and violent emotions, combined
+with the reflection and reasoning of a clear and subtle intellect, soon
+convinced Adrienne of the groundlessness of the fears inspired by the
+crafty doctor. She no longer believed that it could even be a mistake on
+the part of the man of science. She saw clearly in the conduct of this
+man, in which detestable hypocrisy was united with rare audacity, and
+both served by a skill no less remarkable, that M. Baleinier was, in
+fact, the blind instrument of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. From
+that moment, she remained silent and calm, but full of dignity; not a
+complaint, not a reproach was allowed to pass her lips. She waited. Yet,
+though they left her at liberty to walk about (carefully depriving her
+of all means of communicating with any one beyond the walls), Adrienne's
+situation was harsh and painful, particularly for her, who so loved to
+be surrounded by pleasant and harmonious objects. She felt, however,
+that this situation could not last long. She did not thoroughly
+understand the penetration and action of the laws; but her good sense
+taught her, that a confinement of a few days under the plea of some
+appearances of insanity, more or less plausible in themselves, might
+be attempted, and even executed with impunity; but that it could not be
+prolonged beyond certain limits, because, after all, a young lady of
+her rank in society could not disappear suddenly from the world, without
+inquiries being made on the subject--and the pretence of a sudden attack
+of madness would lead to a serious investigation. Whether true or false,
+this conviction had restored Adrienne to her accustomed elasticity and
+energy of character. And yet she sometimes in vain asked herself the
+cause of this attempt on her liberty. She knew too well the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier, to believe her capable of acting in this way, without
+a certain end in view, and merely for the purpose of inflicting a
+momentary pang. In this, Mdlle. de Cardoville was not deceived: Father
+d'Aigrigny and the princess were both persuaded, that Adrienne, better
+informed than she wished to acknowledge, knew how important it was for
+her to find herself in the house in the Rue Saint-Francois on the 13th
+of February, and was determined to maintain her rights. In shutting up
+Adrienne as mad, it was intended to strike a fatal blow at her future
+prospects; but this last precaution was useless, for Adrienne, though
+upon the true scent of the family-secret they lead wished to conceal
+from her, had not yet entirely penetrated its meaning, for want of
+certain documents, which had been lost or hidden.
+
+Whatever had been the motives for the odious conduct of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's enemies, she was not the less disgusted at it. No one could
+be more free from hatred or revenge, than was this generous young girl,
+but when she thought of all the sufferings which the Princess de Saint
+Dizier, Abbe d'Aigrigny, and Dr. Baleinier had occasioned her, she
+promised herself, not reprisals, but a striking reparation. If it were
+refused her, she was resolved to combat--without truce or rest--this
+combination of craft, hypocrisy, and cruelty, not from resentment for
+what she had endured, but to preserve from the same torments other
+innocent victims, who might not, like her, be able to struggle and
+defend themselves. Adrienne, still under the painful impression which
+had been caused by her interview with Rose Simon, was leaning against
+one of the sides of the rustic bench on which she was seated, and held
+her left hand over her eyes. She had laid down her bonnet beside her,
+and the inclined position of her head brought the long golden curls
+over her fair, shining cheeks. In this recumbent attitude, so full of
+careless grace, the charming proportions of her figure were seen to
+advantage beneath a watered green dress, while a broad collar, fastened
+with a rose-colored satin bow, and fine lace cuffs, prevented too strong
+a contrast between the hue of her dress and the dazzling whiteness of
+the swan-like neck and Raphaelesque hands, imperceptibly veined with
+tiny azure lines. Over the high and well-formed instep, were crossed the
+delicate strings of a little, black satin shoe--for Dr. Baleinier had
+allowed her to dress herself with her usual taste, and elegance of
+costume was not with Adrienne a mark of coquetry, but of duty towards
+herself, because she had been made so beautiful. At sight of this young
+lady, whose dress and appearance she admired in all simplicity, without
+any envious or bitter comparison with her own poor clothes and deformity
+of person, Mother Bunch said immediately to herself, with the good sense
+and sagacity peculiar to her, that it was strange a mad woman should
+dress so sanely and gracefully. It was therefore with a mixture of
+surprise and emotion that she approached the fence which separated her
+from Adrienne--reflecting, however, that the unfortunate girl might
+still be insane, and that this might turn out to be merely a lucid
+interval. And now, with a timid voice, but loud enough to be heard,
+Mother Bunch, in order to assure herself of Adrienne's identity, said,
+whilst her heart beat fast: "Mdlle. de Cardoville!"
+
+"Who calls me?" said Adrienne. On hastily raising her head, and
+perceiving the hunchback, she could not suppress a slight cry of
+surprise, almost fright. For indeed this poor creature, pale, deformed,
+miserably clad, thus appearing suddenly before her, must have inspired
+Mdlle, de Cardoville, so passionately fond of grace and beauty, with a
+feeling of repugnance, if not of terror--and these two sentiments were
+both visible in her expressive countenance.
+
+The other did not perceive the impression she had made. Motionless, with
+her eyes fixed, and her hands clasped in a sort of adoring admiration,
+she gazed on the dazzling beauty of Adrienne, whom she had only half
+seen through the grated window. All that Agricola had told her of the
+charms of his protectress, appeared to her a thousand times below the
+reality; and never, even in her secret poetic visions, had she dreamed
+of such rare perfection. Thus, by a singular contrast, a feeling of
+mutual surprise came over these two girls--extreme types of deformity
+and beauty, wealth and wretchedness. After rendering, as it were, this
+involuntary homage to Adrienne, Mother Bunch advanced another step
+towards the fence.
+
+"What do you want?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, rising with a
+sentiment of repugnance, which could not escape the work-girl's notice;
+accordingly, she held down her head timidly, and said in a soft voice:
+"I beg your pardon, madame, to appear so suddenly before you. But
+moments are precious, I come from Agricola."
+
+As she pronounced these words, the sempstress raised her eyes anxiously,
+fearing that Mdlle. de Cardoville might have forgotten the name of
+the workman. But, to her great surprise and joy, the fears of Adrienne
+seemed to diminish at the name of Agricola, and approaching the fence,
+she looked at the speaker with benevolent curiosity.
+
+"You come from M. Agricola Baudoin?" said she. "Who are you?"
+
+"His adopted sister, madame--a poor needlewoman, who lives in the same
+house."
+
+Adrienne appeared to collect her thoughts, and said, smiling kindly,
+after a moment's silence: "It was you then, who persuaded M. Agricola to
+apply to me to procure him bail?"
+
+"Oh, madame, do you remember--"
+
+"I never forget anything that is generous and noble. M. Agricola was
+much affected when he spoke of your devotion. I remember it well; it
+would be strange if I did not. But how came you here, in this convent?"
+
+"They told me that I should perhaps be able to get some occupation here,
+as I am out of work. Unfortunately, I have been refused by the lady
+superior."
+
+"And how did you recognize me?"
+
+"By your great beauty, madame, of which Agricola had told me."
+
+"Or rather by this," said Adrienne, smiling as she lifted, with the tips
+of her rosy fingers, one end of a long, silky ringlet of golden hair.
+
+"You must pardon Agricola, madame," said the sewing girl, with one of
+those half smiles, which rarely settled on her lips: "he is a poet, and
+omitted no single perfection in the respectful and admiring description
+which he gave of his protectress."
+
+"And what induced you to come and speak to me?"
+
+"The hope of being useful to you, madame. You received Agricola with so
+much goodness, that I have ventured to go shares in his gratitude."
+
+"You may well venture to do so, my dear girl," said Adrienne, with
+ineffable grace; "until now, unfortunately, I have only been able to
+serve your adopted brother by intention."
+
+As they exchanged these words, Adrienne and Mother Bunch looked at each
+other with increasing surprise. The latter was, first of all, astonished
+that a person who passed for mad should express herself as Adrienne
+did; next, she was amazed at the ease and freedom with which she herself
+answered the questions of Mdlle. de Cardoville--not knowing that the
+latter was endowed with the precious privilege of lofty and benevolent
+natures, to draw out from those who approached her whatever sympathized
+with herself. On her side, Mdlle. de Cardoville was deeply moved and
+astonished to hear this young, low-born girl, dressed almost like a
+beggar, express herself in terms selected with so much propriety. The
+more she looked at her, the more the feeling of repugnance she at
+first experienced wore off, and was at length converted into quite the
+opposite sentiment. With that rapid and minute power of observation
+natural to women, she remarked beneath the black crape of Mother Bunch's
+cap, the smoothness and brilliancy of the fair, chestnut hair. She
+remarked, too, the whiteness of the long, thin hand, though it displayed
+itself at the end of a patched and tattered sleeve--an infallible proof
+that care, and cleanliness, and self-respect were at least struggling
+against symptoms of fearful distress. Adrienne discovered, also, in the
+pale and melancholy features, in the expression of the blue eyes, at
+once intelligent, mild and timid, a soft and modest dignity, which made
+one forget the deformed figure. Adrienne loved physical beauty, and
+admired it passionately, but she had too superior a mind, too noble a
+soul, too sensitive a heart, not to know how to appreciate moral beauty,
+even when it beamed from a humble and suffering countenance. Only, this
+kind of appreciation was new to Mdlle. de Cardoville; until now, her
+large fortune and elegant habits had kept her at a distance from persons
+of Mother Bunch's class. After a short silence, during which the fair
+patrician and the poor work-girl had closely examined each other,
+Adrienne said to the other: "It is easy, I think, to explain the cause
+of our mutual astonishment. You have, no doubt, discovered that I speak
+pretty reasonably for a mad woman--if they have told you I am one. And
+I," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a tone of respectful commiseration,
+"find that the delicacy of your language and manners so singularly
+contrast with the position in which you appear to be, that my surprise
+must be even greater than yours."
+
+"Ah, madame!" cried Mother Bunch, with a welling forth of such deep and
+sincere joy that the tears started to her eyes; "is it true?--they have
+deceived me--you are not mad! Just now, when I beheld you so kind
+and beautiful, when I heard the sweet tone of your voice, I could not
+believe that such a misfortune had happened to you. But, alas! how is it
+then, madame, that you are in this place?"
+
+"Poor child!" said Adrienne, touched by the affectionate interest of
+this excellent creature; "and how is it that you, with such a heart and
+head, should be in such distress? But be satisfied! I shall not always
+be here--and that will suffice to tell you, that we shall both resume
+the place which becomes us. Believe me, I shall never forget how, in
+spite of the painful ideas which must needs occupy your mind, on seeing
+yourself deprived of work--your only resource--you have still thought of
+coming to me, and of trying to serve me. You may, indeed, be eminently
+useful to me, and I am delighted at it, for then I shall owe you
+much--and you shall see how I will take advantage of my gratitude!" said
+Adrienne, with a sweet smile. "But," resumed she, "before talking
+of myself, let us think of others. Is your adopted brother still in
+prison?"
+
+"By this time, madame, I hope he has obtained his freedom; thanks to the
+generosity of one of his comrades. His father went yesterday to offer
+bail for him, and they promised that he should be released to-day. But,
+from his prison, he wrote to me, that he had something of importance to
+reveal to you."
+
+"To me?"
+
+"Yes, madame. Should Agricola be released immediately by what means can
+he communicate with you?"
+
+"He has secrets to tell me!" resumed Mdlle. de Cardoville, with an air
+of thoughtful surprise. "I seek in vain to imagine what they can be; but
+so long as I am confined in this house, and secluded from every one, M.
+Agricola must not think of addressing himself directly or indirectly
+to me. He must wait till I am at liberty; but that is not all, he must
+deliver from that convent two poor children, who are much more to be
+pitied than I am. The daughters of Marshal Simon are detained there
+against their will."
+
+"You know their name, madame?"
+
+"When M. Agricola informed me of their arrival in Paris, he told me they
+were fifteen years old, and that they resembled each other exactly--so
+that, the day before yesterday, when I took my accustomed walk, and
+observed two poor little weeping faces come close to the windows of
+their separate cells, one on the ground floor, the other on the first
+story, a secret presentiment told me that I saw in them the orphans
+of whom M. Agricola had spoken, and in whom I already took a lively
+interest, as being my relations."
+
+"They are your relations, madame, then?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. So, not being able to do more, I tried to express by
+signs how much I felt for them. Their tears, and the sadness of their
+charming faces, sufficiently told me that they were prisoners in the
+convent, as I am myself in this house."
+
+"Oh! I understand, madame--the victim of the animosity of your family?"
+
+"Whatever may be my fate, I am much less to be pitied than these two
+children, whose despair is really alarming. Their separation is what
+chiefly oppresses them. By some words that one of them just now said to
+me, I see that they are, like me, the victims of an odious machination.
+But thanks to you, it will be possible to save them: Since I have been
+in this house I have had no communication with any one; they have not
+allowed me pen or paper, so it is impossible to write. Now listen to me
+attentively, and we shall be able to defeat an odious persecution."
+
+"Oh, speak! speak, madame!"
+
+"The soldier, who brought these orphans to France, the father of M.
+Agricola, is still in town?"
+
+"Yes, madame. Oh! if you only knew his fury, his despair, when, on his
+return home, he no longer found the children that a dying mother had
+confided to him!"
+
+"He must take care not to act with the least violence. It would ruin
+all. Take this ring," said Adrienne, drawing it from her finger, "and
+give it to him. He must go instantly--are you sure that you can remember
+a name and address?"
+
+"Oh! yes, madame. Be satisfied on that point. Agricola only mentioned
+your name once, and I have not forgotten it. There is a memory of the
+heart."
+
+"I perceive it, my dear girl. Remember, then, the name of the Count de
+Montbron."
+
+"The Count de Montbron--I shall not forget."
+
+"He is one of my good old friends, and lives on the Place Vendome, No.
+7."
+
+"Place Vendome, No. 7--I shall remember."
+
+"M. Agricola's father must go to him this evening, and, if he is not at
+home, wait for his coming in. He must ask to speak to him, as if from
+me, and send him this ring as a proof of what he says. Once with him, he
+must tell him all--the abduction of the girls, the name of the convent
+where they are confined, and my own detention as a lunatic in the asylum
+of Dr. Baleinier. Truth has an accent of its own, which M. de Montbron
+will recognize. He is a man of much experience and judgment, and
+possessed of great influence. He will immediately take the necessary
+steps, and to-morrow, or the day after, these poor orphans and myself
+will be restored to liberty--all thanks to you! But moments are
+precious; we might be discovered; make haste, dear child!"
+
+At the moment of drawing back, Adrienne said to Mother Bunch, with so
+sweet a smile and affectionate a tone, that it was impossible not to
+believe her sincere: "M. Agricola told me that I had a heart like yours.
+I now understand how honorable, how flattering those words were for me.
+Pray, give me your hand!" added Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose eyes were
+filling with tears; and, passing her beautiful hand through an opening
+in the fence, she offered it to the other. The words and the gesture
+of the fair patrician were full of so much real cordiality, that the
+sempstress, with no false shame, placed tremblingly her own poor thin
+hand in Adrienne's, while the latter, with a feeling of pious respect,
+lifted it spontaneously to her lips, and said: "Since I cannot embrace
+you as my sister, let me at least kiss this hand, ennobled by labor!"
+
+Suddenly, footsteps were heard in the garden of Dr. Baleinier; Adrienne
+withdrew abruptly, and disappeared behind some trees, saying: "Courage,
+memory, and hope!"
+
+All this had passed so rapidly that the young workwoman had no time
+to speak or move; tears, sweet tears, flowed abundantly down her pale
+cheeks. For a young lady, like Adrienne de Cardoville, to treat her as a
+sister, to kiss her hand, to tell her that she was proud to resemble
+her in heart--her, a poor creature, vegetating in the lowest abyss
+of misery--was to show a spirit of fraternal equality, divine, as the
+gospel words.
+
+There are words and impressions which make a noble soul forget years of
+suffering, and which, as by a sudden flash, reveal to it something of
+its own worth and grandeur. Thus it was with the hunchback. Thanks to
+this generous speech, she was for a moment conscious of her own value.
+And though this feeling was rapid as it was ineffable, she clasped
+her hands and raised her eyes to heaven with an expression of fervent
+gratitude; for, if the poor sempstress did not practise, to use the
+jargon of ultramontane cant, no one was more richly endowed with that
+deep religious sentiment, which is to mere dogmas what the immensity of
+the starry heaven is to the vaulted roof of a church.
+
+Five minutes after quitting Mdlle. de Cardoville, Mother Bunch, having
+left the garden without being perceived, reascended to the first story,
+and knocked gently at the door of the press-room. A sister came to open
+the door to her.
+
+"Is not Mdlle. Florine, with whom I came, still here, sister?" asked the
+needlewoman.
+
+"She could not wait for you any longer. No doubt, you have come from our
+mother the superior?"
+
+"Yes, yes, sister," answered the sempstress, casting down her eyes;
+"would you have the goodness to show me the way out?"
+
+"Come with me."
+
+The sewing-girl followed the nun, trembling at every step lest she
+should meet the superior, who would naturally have inquired the cause of
+her long stay in the convent.
+
+At length the inner gate closed upon Mother Bunch. Passing rapidly
+across the vast court-yard and approaching the porter's lodge, to ask
+him to let her out, she heard these words pronounced in a gruff voice:
+"It seems, old Jerome, that we are to be doubly on our guard to-night.
+Well, I shall put two extra balls in my gun. The superior says we are to
+make two rounds instead of one."
+
+"I want no gun, Nicholas," said the other voice; "I have my sharp
+scythe, a true gardener's weapon--and none the worse for that."
+
+Feeling an involuntary uneasiness at these words, which she had heard by
+mere chance, Mother Bunch approached the porter's lodge, and asked him
+to open the outer gate.
+
+"Where do you come from?" challenged the porter, leaning half way out
+of his lodge, with a double barrelled gun, which he was occupied in
+loading, in his hand, and at the same time examining the sempstress with
+a suspicious air.
+
+"I come from speaking to the superior," answered Mother Bunch timidly.
+
+"Is that true?" said Nicholas roughly. "You look like a sanctified
+scarecrow. Never mind. Make haste and cut!"
+
+The gate opened, and Mother Bunch went out. Hardly had she gone a few
+steps in the sweet, when, to her great surprise, she saw the dog Spoil
+sport run up to her, and his master, Dagobert, a little way behind him,
+arriving also with precipitation. She was hastening to meet the soldier,
+when a full, sonorous voice exclaimed from a little distance: "Oh my
+good sister!" which caused the girl to turn round. From the opposite
+side to that whence Dagobert was coming, she saw Agricola hurrying
+towards the spot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. THE ENCOUNTERS.
+
+At the sight of Dagobert and Agricola, Mother Bunch remained motionless
+with surprise, a few steps from the convent-gate. The soldier had not
+yet perceived the sempstress. He advanced rapidly, following the dog,
+who though lean, half-starved, rough-coated, and dirty, seemed to frisk
+with pleasure, as he turned his intelligent face towards his master, to
+whom he had gone back, after caressing Mother Bunch.
+
+"Yes, yes; I understand you, old fellow!" said the soldier, with
+emotion. "You are more faithful than I was; you did not leave the dear
+children for a minute. Yes, you followed them, and watched day and
+night, without food, at the door of the house to which they were
+taken--and, at length, weary of waiting to see them come forth, ran home
+to fetch me. Yes; whilst I was giving way to despair, like a furious
+madman, you were doing what I ought to have done--discovering their
+retreat. What does it all prove? Why, that beasts are better than
+men--which is well known. Well, at length I shall see them again. When
+I think that tomorrow is the 13th, and that without you, my did
+Spoil-sport, all would be lost--it makes me shudder. But I say, shall we
+soon be there? What a deserted quarter! and night coming on!"
+
+Dagobert had held this discourse to Spoil-sport, as he walked along
+following the good dog, who kept on at a rapid pace. Suddenly, seeing
+the faithful animal start aside with a bound, he raised his eyes, and
+perceived the dog frisking about the hunchback and Agricola, who had
+just met at a little distance from the convent-gate.
+
+"Mother Bunch?" exclaimed both father and son, as they approached the
+young workwoman, and looked at her with extreme surprise.
+
+"There is good hope, M. Dagobert," said she with inexpressible joy.
+"Rose and Blanche are found!" Then, turning towards the smith, she
+added, "There is good hope, Agricola: Mdlle. de Cardoville is not mad. I
+have just seen her."
+
+"She is not mad? what happiness!" exclaimed the smith.
+
+"The children!" cried Dagobert, trembling with emotion, as he took the
+work-girl's hands in his own. "You have seen them?"
+
+"Yes; just now--very sad--very unhappy--but I was not able to speak to
+them."
+
+"Oh!" said Dagobert, stopping as if suffocated by the news, and pressing
+his hands on his bosom; "I never thought that my old heart could beat
+so!--And yet, thanks to my dog, I almost expected what has taken place.
+Anyhow, I am quite dizzy with joy."
+
+"Well, father, it's a good day," said Agricola, looking gratefully at
+the girl.
+
+"Kiss me, my dear child!" added the soldier, as he pressed Mother Bunch
+affectionately in his arms; then, full of impatience, he added: "Come,
+let us go and fetch the children."
+
+"Ah, my good sister!" said Agricola, deeply moved; "you will restore
+peace, perhaps life, to my father--and Mdlle. de Cardoville--but how do
+you know?"
+
+"A mere chance. And how did you come here?"
+
+"Spoil-sport stops and barks," cried Dagobert, who had already made
+several steps in advance.
+
+Indeed the dog, who was as impatient as his master to see the orphans,
+and far better informed as to the place of their retreat, had posted
+himself at the convent gate, and was beginning to bark, to attract the
+attention of Dagobert. Understanding his dog, the latter said to
+the hunchback, as he pointed in that direction with his finger: "The
+children are there?"
+
+"Yes, M. Dagobert."
+
+"I was sure of it. Good dog!--Oh, yes! beasts are better than
+men--except you, my dear girl, who are better than either man or beast.
+But my poor children! I shall see them, I shall have them once more!"
+
+So saying, Dagobert, in spite of his age, began to run very fast towards
+Spoil-sport. "Agricola," cried Mother Bunch, "prevent thy father from
+knocking at that door. He would ruin all."
+
+In two strides, the smith had reached his father, just as the latter was
+raising his hand to the knocker. "Stop, father!" cried the smith, as he
+seized Dagobert by the arm.
+
+"What the devil is it now?"
+
+"Mother Bunch says that to knock would ruin all."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"She will explain it to you." Although not so nimble as Agricola, Mother
+Bunch soon came up, and said to the soldier: "M. Dagobert, do not let us
+remain before this gate. They might open it, and see us; and that would
+excite suspicion. Let us rather go away--"
+
+"Suspicion!" cried the veteran, much surprised, but without moving from
+the gate; "what suspicion?"
+
+"I conjure you, do not remain there!" said Mother Bunch, with so much
+earnestness, that Agricola joined her, and said to his father: "Since
+sister rashes it, father, she has some reason for it. The Boulevard de
+l'Hopital is a few steps from here; nobody passes that way; we can talk
+there without being interrupted."
+
+"Devil take me if I understand a word of all this!" cried Dagobert,
+without moving from his post. "The children are here, and I will fetch
+them away with me. It is an affair of ten minutes."
+
+"Do not think that, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch. "It is much more
+difficult than you imagine. But come! come!--I can hear them talk in the
+court-yard."
+
+In fact, the sound of voices was now distinctly audible. "Come father!"
+said Agricola, forcing away the soldier, almost in spite of himself.
+Spoil-sport, who appeared much astonished at these hesitations, barked
+two or three times without quitting his post, as if to protest against
+this humiliating retreat; but, being called by Dagobert, he hastened to
+rejoin the main body.
+
+It was now about five o'clock in the evening. A high wind swept thick
+masses of grayish, rainy cloud rapidly across the sky. The Boulevard de
+l'Hopital, which bordered on this portion of the convent-garden, was,
+as we before said, almost deserted. Dagobert, Agricola, and the serving
+girl could hold a private conference in this solitary place.
+
+The soldier did not disguise the extreme impatience that these delays
+occasioned in him. Hardly had they turned the corner of the street, when
+he said to Mother Bunch: "Come, my child, explain yourself. I am upon
+hot coals."
+
+"The house in which the daughters of Marshal Simon are confined is a
+convent, M. Dagobert."
+
+"A convent!" cried the soldier: "I might have suspected it." Then he
+added: "Well, what then? I will fetch them from a convent as soon as
+from any other place. Once is not always."
+
+"But, M. Dagobert, they are confined against their will and against
+yours. They will not give them up."
+
+"They will not give them up? Zounds! we will see about that." And he
+made a step towards the street.
+
+"Father," said Agricola, holding him back, "one moment's patience; let
+us hear all."
+
+"I will hear nothing. What! the children are there--two steps from me--I
+know it--and I shall not have them, either by fair means or foul? Oh!
+that would indeed be curious. Let me go."
+
+"Listen to me, I beseech you, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, taking
+his hand: "there is another way to deliver these poor children. And that
+without violence--for violence, as Mdlle. de Cardoville told me, would
+ruin all."
+
+"If there is any other way--quick--let me know it!"
+
+"Here is a ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville's."
+
+"And who is this Mdlle. de Cardoville?"
+
+"Father," said Agricola, "it is the generous young lady, who offered to
+be my bail, and to whom I have very important matters to communicate."
+
+"Good, good," replied Dagobert; "we will talk of that presently. Well,
+my dear girl--this ring?"
+
+"You must take it directly, M. Dagobert, to the Count de Montbron,
+No. 7, Place Vendome. He appears to be a person of influence, and is a
+friend of Mdlle. de Cardoville's. This ring will prove that you come on
+her behalf, and you will tell him, that she is confined as a lunatic in
+the asylum next door to this convent, in which the daughters of Marshal
+Simon are detained against their will."
+
+"Well, well--what next?"
+
+"Then the Count de Montbron will take the proper steps with persons in
+authority, to restore both Mdlle. de Cardoville and the daughters of
+Marshal Simon to liberty--and perhaps, to-morrow, or the day after--"
+
+"To-morrow or the day after!" cried Dagobert; "perhaps?--It is to-day,
+on the instant, that I must have them. The day after to-morrow would be
+of much use! Thanks, my good girl, but keep your ring: I will manage my
+own business. Wait for me here, my boy."
+
+"What are you going to do, father?" cried Agricola, still holding back
+the soldier. "It is a convent, remember."
+
+"You are only a raw recruit; I have my theory of convents at my fingers'
+end. In Spain, I have put it in practice a hundred times. Here is what
+will happen. I knock; a portress opens the door to me; she asks me what
+I want, but I make no answer; she tries to stop me, but I pass on; once
+in the convent, I walk over it from top to bottom, calling my children
+with all my might."
+
+"But, M. Dagobert, the nuns?" said Mother Bunch, still trying to detain
+the soldier.
+
+"The nuns run after me, screaming like so many magpies. I know them. At
+Seville I fetched out an Andalusian girl, whom they were trying to keep
+by force. Well, I walk about the convent calling for Rose and Blanche.
+They hear me, and answer. If they are shut in, I take the first piece of
+furniture that comes to hand, and break open the door."
+
+"But, M. Dagobert--the nuns--the nuns?"
+
+"The nuns, with all their squalling, will not prevent my breaking open
+the door, seizing my children in my arms, and carrying them off. Should
+the outer door be shut, there will be a second smash--that's all. So,"
+added Dagobert, disengaging himself from the grasp, "wait for me here.
+In ten minutes I shall be back again. Go and get a hackney-coach ready,
+my boy."
+
+More calm than Dagobert, and, above all, better informed as to the
+provisions of the Penal Code, Agricola was alarmed at the consequences
+that might attend the veteran's strange mode of proceeding. So, throwing
+himself before him, he exclaimed: "One word more, I entreat you."
+
+"Zounds! make haste!"
+
+"If you attempt to enter the convent by force, you will ruin all."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"First of all, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, "there are men in the
+convent. As I came out just now, I saw the porter loading his gun, and
+heard the gardener talking of his sharp scythe, and the rounds he was to
+make at night."
+
+"Much I care for a porter's gun and a gardener's scythe!"
+
+"Well, father; but listen to me a moment, I conjure you. Suppose you
+knock, and the door is opened--the porter will ask you what you want.'
+
+"I tell him that I wish to speak to the superior, and so walk into the
+convent."
+
+"But, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, "when once you have crossed the
+court-yard, you reach a second door, with a wicket. A nun comes to it,
+to see who rings, and does not open the door till she knows the object
+of the visit."
+
+"I will tell her that I wish to see the lady superior."
+
+"Then, father, as you are not known in the convent, they will go and
+inform the superior."
+
+"Well, what then?"
+
+"She will come down."
+
+"What next?"
+
+"She will ask you what you want, M. Dagobert."
+
+"What I want?--the devil! my children!"
+
+"One minute's patience, father. You cannot doubt, from the precautions
+they have taken, that they wish to detain these young ladies against
+their will, and against yours."
+
+"Doubt! I am sure of it. To come to that point, they began by turning
+the head of my poor wife."
+
+"Then, father, the superior will reply to you that she does not know
+what you mean, and that the young ladies are not in the convent."
+
+"And I will reply to her, that they are in the convent witness--Mother
+Bunch and Spoil-sport."
+
+"The superior will answer, that she does not know you; that she has no
+explanations to give you; and will close the wicket."
+
+"Then I break it open--since one must come to that in the end--so leave
+me alone, I tell you! 'sblood! leave me alone!"
+
+"And, on this noise and violence, the porter will run and fetch the
+guard, and they will begin by arresting you."
+
+"And what will become of your poor children, then, M. Dagobert?" said
+Mother Bunch.
+
+Agricola's father had too much good sense not to feel the truth of these
+observations of the girl and his son; but he knew also, that, cost
+what it might, the orphans must be delivered before the morrow. The
+alternative was terrible--so terrible, that, pressing his two hands
+to his burning forehead, Dagobert sunk back upon a stone bench, as if
+struck down by the inexorable fatality of the dilemma.
+
+Agricola and the workwoman, deeply moved by this mute despair, exchanged
+a sad look. The smith, seating himself beside the soldier, said to him:
+"Do not be down-hearted, father. Remember what's been told you. By going
+with this ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville's to the influential gentleman
+she named, the young ladies may be free by to-morrow, or, at worst, by
+the day after."
+
+"Blood and thunder! you want to drive me mad!" exclaimed Dagobert,
+starting up from the bench, and looking at Mother Bunch and his son with
+so savage an expression that Agricola and the sempstress drew back, with
+an air of surprise and uneasiness.
+
+"Pardon me, my children!" said Dagobert, recovering himself after a long
+silence. "I am wrong to get in a passion, for we do not understand one
+another. What you say is true; and yet I am right to speak as I do.
+Listen to me. You are an honest man, Agricola; you an honest girl; what
+I tell you is meant for you alone. I have brought these children from
+the depths of Siberia--do you know why? That they may be to-morrow
+morning in the Rue Saint-Francois. If they are not there, I have failed
+to execute the last wish of their dying mother."
+
+"No. 3, Rue Saint Francois?" cried Agricola, interrupting his father.
+
+"Yes; how do you know the number?" said Dagobert.
+
+"Is not the date inscribed on a bronze medal?"
+
+"Yes," replied Dagobert, more end more surprised; "who told you?"
+
+"One instant, father!" exclaimed Agricola; "let me reflect. I think I
+guess it. Did you not tell me, my good sister, that Mdlle. de Cardoville
+was not mad?"
+
+"Not mad. They detain her in this asylum to prevent her communicating
+with any one. She believes herself, like the daughters of Marshal Simon,
+the victim of an odious machination."
+
+"No doubt of it," cried the smith. "I understand all now, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville has the same interest as the orphans to appear to-morrow at
+the Rue Saint-Francois. But she does not perhaps know it."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"One word more, my good girl. Did Mdlle. de Cardoville tell you that she
+had a powerful motive to obtain her freedom by to-morrow?"
+
+"No; for when she gave me this ring for the Count de Montbron, she said
+to me: 'By this means both I and Marshal Simon's daughters will be at
+liberty either to-morrow or the day after--'"
+
+"But explain yourself, then," said Dagobert to his son, with impatience.
+
+"Just now," replied the smith, "when you came to seek me in prison, I
+told you, father, that I had a sacred duty to perform, and that I would
+rejoin you at home."
+
+"Yes; and I went, on my side, to take some measures, of which I will
+speak to you presently."
+
+"I ran instantly to the house in the Rue de Babylone, not knowing that
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was mad, or passed for mad. A servant, who opened
+the door to me, informed me that the young lady had been seized with a
+sudden attack of madness. You may conceive, father, what a blow that was
+to me! I asked where she was: they answered, that they did not know.
+I asked if I could speak to any of the family; as my jacket did not
+inspire any great confidence, they replied that none of her family were
+at present there. I was in despair, but an idea occurred to me. I said
+to myself: 'If she is mad, her family physician must know where they
+have taken her; if she is in a state to hear me, he will take me to
+her; if not, I will speak to her doctor, as I would to her relations.
+A doctor is often a friend.' I asked the servant, therefore, to give me
+the doctor's address. I obtained it without difficulty--Dr. Baleinier,
+No. 12, Rue Taranne. I ran thither, but he had gone out; they told me
+that I should find him about five o'clock at his asylum, which is next
+door to the convent. That is how we have met."
+
+"But the medal--the medal?" said Dagobert, impatiently; "where did you
+see it?"
+
+"It is with regard to this and other things that I wished to make
+important communications to Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"And what are these communications?"
+
+"The fact is, father, I had gone to her the day of your departure, to
+beg her to get me bail. I was followed; and when she learned this from
+her waiting-woman, she concealed me in a hiding-place. It was a sort of
+little vaulted room, in which no light was admitted, except through a
+tunnel, made like a chimney; yet in a few minutes, I could see pretty
+clearly. Having nothing better to do, I looked all about me and saw that
+the walls were covered with wainscoting. The entrance to this room
+was composed of a sliding panel, moving by means of weights and wheels
+admirably contrived. As these concern my trade, I was interested in
+them, so I examined the springs, spite of my emotion, with curiosity,
+and understood the nature of their play; but there was one brass knob,
+of which I could not discover the use. It was in vain to pull and move
+it from right to left, none of the springs were touched. I said
+to myself: 'This knob, no doubt, belongs to another piece of
+mechanism'--and the idea occurred to me, instead of drawing it towards
+me, to push it with force. Directly after, I heard a grating sound,
+and perceived, just above the entrance to the hiding-place, one of the
+panels, about two feet square, fly open like the door of a secretary. As
+I had, no doubt, pushed the spring rather too hard, a bronze medal and
+chain fell out with a shock."
+
+"And you saw the address--Rue Saint-Francois?" cried Dagobert.
+
+"Yes, father; and with this medal, a sealed letter fell to the ground.
+On picking it up, I saw that it was addressed, in large letters: 'For
+Mdlle. de Cardoville. To be opened by her the moment it is delivered.'
+Under these words, I saw the initials 'R.' and 'C.,' accompanied by a
+flourish, and this date: 'Paris, November the 13th, 1830.' On the other
+side of the envelope I perceived two seals, with the letters 'R.' and
+'C.,' surmounted by a coronet."
+
+"And the seals were unbroken?" asked Mother Bunch.
+
+"Perfectly whole."
+
+"No doubt, then, Mdlle. de Cardoville was ignorant of the existence of
+these papers," said the sempstress.
+
+"That was my first idea, since she was recommended to open the letter
+immediately, and, notwithstanding this recommendation, which bore date
+two years back, the seals remained untouched."
+
+"It is evident," said Dagobert. "What did you do?"
+
+"I replaced the whole where it was before, promising myself to inform
+Mdlle. de Cardoville of it. But, a few minutes after, they entered my
+hiding-place, which had been discovered, and I did not see her again. I
+was only able to whisper a few words of doubtful meaning to one of her
+waiting-women, on the subject of what I had found, hoping thereby to
+arouse the attention of her mistress; and, as soon as I was able to
+write to you, my good sister, I begged you to go and call upon Mdlle. de
+Cardoville."
+
+"But this medal," said Dagobert, "is exactly like that possessed by the
+daughter of Marshal Simon. How can you account for that?"
+
+"Nothing so plain, father. Mdlle. de Cardoville is their relation. I
+remember now, that she told me so."
+
+"A relation of Rose and Blanche?"
+
+"Yes," added Mother Bunch; "she told that also to me just now."
+
+"Well, then," resumed Dagobert, looking anxiously at his son, "do you
+now understand why I must have my children this very day? Do you now
+understand, as their poor mother told me on her death-bed, that one
+day's delay might ruin all? Do you now see that I cannot be satisfied
+with a perhaps to-morrow, when I have come all the way from Siberia,
+only, that those children might be to-morrow in the Rue Saint-Francois?
+Do you at last perceive that I must have them this night, even if I have
+to set fire to the convent?"
+
+"But, father, if you employ violence--"
+
+"Zounds! do you know what the commissary of police answered me this
+morning, when I went to renew my charge against your mother's confessor?
+He said to me that there was no proof, and that they could do nothing."
+
+"But now there is proof, father, for at least we know where the young
+girls are. With that certainty we shall be strong. The law is more
+powerful than all the superiors of convents in the world."
+
+"And the Count de Montbron, to whom Mdlle. de Cardoville begs you to
+apply," said Mother Bunch, "is a man of influence. Tell him the reasons
+that make it so important for these young ladies, as well as Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, to be at liberty this evening and he will certainly hasten
+the course of justice, and to-night your children will be restored to
+you."
+
+"Sister is in the right, father. Go to the Count. Meanwhile, I will run
+to the commissary, and tell him that we now know where the young girls
+are confined. Do you go home, and wait for us, my good girl. We will
+meet at our own house!"
+
+Dagobert had remained plunged in thought; suddenly, he said to Agricola:
+"Be it so. I will follow your counsel. But suppose the commissary says
+to you: 'We cannot act before to-morrow'--suppose the Count de Montbron
+says to me the same thing--do not think I shall stand with my arms
+folded until the morning."
+
+"But, father--"
+
+"It is enough," resumed the soldier in an abrupt voice: "I have made
+up my mind. Run to the commissary, my boy; wait for us at home, my good
+girl; I will go to the Count. Give me the ring. Now for the address!"
+
+"The Count de Montbron, No. 7, Place Vendome," said she; "you come on
+behalf of Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"I have a good memory," answered the soldier. "We will meet as soon as
+possible in the Rue Brise-Miche."
+
+"Yes, father; have good courage. You will see that the law protects and
+defends honest people."
+
+"So much the better," said the soldier; "because, otherwise, honest
+people would be obliged to protect and defend themselves. Farewell, my
+children! we will meet soon in the Rue Brise-Miche."
+
+When Dagobert, Agricola, and Mother Bunch separated, it was already dark
+night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. THE MEETING.
+
+It is eight o'clock in the evening, the rain dashes against the windows
+of Frances Baudoin's apartment in the Rue Brise-Miche, while violent
+squalls of wind shake the badly dosed doors and casements. The disorder
+and confusion of this humble abode, usually kept with so much care and
+neatness, bore testimony to the serious nature of the sad events which
+had thus disturbed existences hitherto peaceful in their obscurity.
+
+The paved floor was soiled with mud, and a thick layer of dust covered
+the furniture, once so bright and clean. Since Frances was taken away by
+the commissary, the bed had not been made; at night Dagobert had thrown
+himself upon it for a few hours in his clothes, when, worn out with
+fatigue, and crushed by despair, he had returned from new and vain
+attempts to discover Rose and Blanche's prison-house. Upon the drawers
+stood a bottle, a glass, and some fragments of dry bread, proving the
+frugality of the soldier, whose means of subsistence were reduced to the
+money lent by the pawnbroker upon the things pledged by Mother Bunch,
+after the arrest of Frances.
+
+By the faint glimmer of a candle, placed upon the little stove, now cold
+as marble, for the stock of wood had long been exhausted, one might have
+seen the hunchback sleeping upon a chair, her head resting on her bosom,
+her hands concealed beneath her cotton apron, and her feet resting on
+the lowest rung of the chair; from time to time, she shivered in her
+damp, chill garments.
+
+After that long day of fatigue and diverse emotions, the poor creature
+had eaten nothing. Had she even thought of it, she would have been at a
+loss for bread. Waiting for the return of Dagobert and Agricola, she
+had sunk into an agitated sleep--very different, alas! from calm
+and refreshing slumber. From time to time, she half opened her eyes
+uneasily, and looked around her. Then, again, overcome by irresistible
+heaviness, her head fell upon her bosom.
+
+After some minutes of silence, only interrupted by the noise of the
+wind, a slow and heavy step was heard on the landing-place. The door
+opened, and Dagobert entered, followed by Spoil-sport.
+
+Waking with a start, Mother Bunch raised her head hastily, sprang from
+her chair, and, advancing rapidly to meet Agricola's father, said to
+him: "Well, M. Dagobert! have you good news? Have you--"
+
+She could not continue, she was so struck with the gloomy expression of
+the soldier's features. Absorbed in his reflections, he did not at first
+appear to perceive the speaker, but threw himself despondingly on a
+chair, rested his elbows upon the table, and hid his face in his
+hands. After a long meditation, he rose, and said in a low voice: "It
+must--yes, it must be done!"
+
+Taking a few steps up and down the room, Dagobert looked around him,
+as if in search of something. At length, after about a minute's
+examination, he perceived near the stove, a bar of iron, perhaps two
+feet long, serving to lift the covers, when too hot for the fingers.
+Taking this in his hand, he looked at it closely, poised it to judge
+of its weight, and then laid it down upon the drawers with an air of
+satisfaction. Surprised at the long silence of Dagobert, the needlewoman
+followed his movements with timid and uneasy curiosity. But soon her
+surprise gave way to fright, when she saw the soldier take down his
+knapsack, place it upon a chair, open it, and draw from it a pair of
+pocket-pistols, the locks of which he tried with the utmost caution.
+
+Seized with terror, the sempstress could not forbear exclaiming: "Good
+gracious, M. Dagobert! what are you going to do?"
+
+The soldier looked at her as if he only now perceived her for the first
+time, and said to her in a cordial, but abrupt voice: "Good-evening, my
+good girl! What is the time?"
+
+"Eight o'clock has just struck at Saint-Mery's, M. Dagobert."
+
+"Eight o'clock," said the soldier, speaking to himself; "only eight!"
+
+Placing the pistols by the side of the iron bar, he appeared again to
+reflect, while he cast his eyes around him.
+
+"M. Dagobert," ventured the girl, "you have not, then, good news?"
+
+"No."
+
+That single word was uttered by the soldier in so sharp a tone, that,
+not daring to question him further, Mother Bunch sat down in silence.
+Spoil sport came to lean his head on the knees of the girl, and followed
+the movements of Dagobert with as much curiosity as herself.
+
+After remaining for some moments pensive and silent, the soldier
+approached the bed, took a sheet from it, appeared to measure its
+length, and then said, turning towards Mother Bunch: "The scissors!"
+
+"But, M. Dagobert--"
+
+"Come, my good girl! the scissors!" replied Dagobert, in a kind tone,
+but one that commanded obedience. The sempstress took the scissors from
+Frances' work-basket, and presented them to the soldier.
+
+"Now, hold the other end of the sheet, my girl, and draw it out tight."
+
+In a few minutes, Dagobert had cut the sheet into four strips, which he
+twisted in the fashion of cords, fastening them here and there with bits
+of tape, so as to preserve the twist, and tying them strongly together,
+so as to make a rope of about twenty feet long. This, however, did not
+suffice him, for he said to himself: "Now I must have a hook."
+
+Again he looked around him, and Mother Bunch, more and more frightened,
+for she now no longer doubted Dagobert's designs, said to him timidly:
+"M. Dagobert, Agricola has not yet come in. It may be some good news
+that makes him so late."
+
+"Yes," said the soldier, bitterly, as he continued to cast round his
+eyes in search of something he wanted; "good news like mine! But I must
+have a strong iron hook."
+
+Still looking about, he found one of the coarse, gray sacks, that
+Frances was accustomed to make. He took it, opened it, and said to the
+work girl: "Put me the iron bar and the cord into this bag, my girl. It
+will be easier to carry."
+
+"Heavens!" cried she, obeying his directions; "you will not go without
+seeing Agricola, M. Dagobert? He may perhaps have some good news to tell
+you."
+
+"Be satisfied! I shall wait for my boy. I need not start before ten
+o'clock--so I have time."
+
+"Alas, M. Dagobert! have you last all hope?"
+
+"On the contrary. I have good hope--but in myself."
+
+So saying, Dagobert twisted the upper end of the sack, for the purpose
+of closing it, and placed it on the drawers, by the side of his pistols.
+
+"At all events, you will wait for Agricola, M. Dagobert?"
+
+"Yes, if he arrives before ten o'clock."
+
+"Alas; you have then quite made up your mind?"
+
+"Quite. And yet, if I were weak enough to believe in bad omens--"
+
+"Sometimes, M. Dagobert, omens do not deceive one," said the girl,
+hoping to induce the soldier to abandon his dangerous resolution.
+
+"Yes," resumed Dagobert; "old women say so--and, although I am not an
+old woman, what I saw just now weighed heavily on my heart. After all, I
+may have taken a feeling of anger for a presentiment."
+
+"What have you seen?"
+
+"I will tell it you, my good girl; it may help to pass the time, which
+appears long enough." Then, interrupting himself, he exclaimed: "Was it
+the half hour that just struck?"
+
+"Yes, M. Dagobert; it is half-past eight."
+
+"Still an hour and a half," said Dagobert, in a hollow voice. "This,"
+he added, "is what I saw. As I came along the street, my notice was
+attracted by a large red placard, at the head of which was a black
+panther devouring a white horse. That sight gave me a turn, for you
+must know, my good girl, that a black panther destroyed a poor old white
+horse that I had, Spoil-sport's companion, whose name was Jovial."
+
+At the sound of this name, once so familiar, Spoil-sport, who was
+crouching at the workwoman's feet, raised his head hastily, and looked
+at Dagobert.
+
+"You see that beasts have memory--he recollects," said the soldier,
+sighing himself at the remembrance. Then, addressing his dog he added:
+"Dost remember Jovial?"
+
+On hearing this name a second time pronounced by his master, in a voice
+of emotion, Spoil-sport gave a low whine, as if to indicate that he had
+not forgotten his old travelling companion.
+
+"It was, indeed, a melancholy incident, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch,
+"to find upon this placard a panther devouring a horse."
+
+"That is nothing to what's to come; you shall hear the rest. I drew near
+the bill, and read in it, that one Morok, just arrived from Germany, is
+about to exhibit in a theatre different wild beasts that he tamed, among
+others a splendid lion, a tiger, and a black Java panther named Death."
+
+"What an awful name!" said the hearer.
+
+"You will think it more awful, my child, when I tell you, that this is
+the very panther which strangled my horse at Leipsic, four months ago."
+
+"Good Heaven! you are right, M. Dagobert," said the girl, "it is awful."
+
+"Wait a little," said Dagobert, whose countenance was growing more and
+more gloomy, "that is not all. It was by means of this very Morok, the
+owner of the panther, that I and my poor children were imprisoned in
+Leipsic."
+
+"And this wicked man is in Paris, and wishes you evil?" said Mother
+Bunch. "Oh! you are right, M. Dagobert; you must take care of yourself;
+it is a bad omen."
+
+"For him, if I catch him," said Dagobert, in a hollow tone. "We have old
+accounts to settle."
+
+"M. Dagobert," cried Mother Bunch, listening; "some one is running up
+the stairs. It is Agricola's footsteps. I am sure he has good news."
+
+"That will just do," said the soldier, hastily, without answering.
+"Agricola is a smith. He will be able to find me the iron hook."
+
+A few moments after, Agricola entered the room; but, alas! the
+sempstress perceived at the first glance, in the dejected countenance of
+the workman, the ruin of her cherished hopes.
+
+"Well!" said Dagobert to his son, in a tone which clearly announced the
+little faith he attached to the steps taken by Agricola; "well, what
+news?"
+
+"Father, it is enough to drive one mad--to make one dash one's brains
+out against the wall!" cried the smith in a rage.
+
+Dagobert turned towards Mother Bunch, and said: "You see, my poor
+child--I was sure of it."
+
+"Well, father," cried Agricola; "have you seen the Court de Montbron?"
+
+"The Count de Montbron set out for Lorraine three days ago. That is
+my good news," continued the soldier, with bitter irony; "let us have
+yours--I long to know all. I need to know, if, on appealing to the laws,
+which, as you told me, protect and defend honest people, it ever happens
+that the rogues get the best of it. I want to know this, and then I want
+an iron hook--so I count upon you for both."
+
+"What do you mean, father?"
+
+"First, tell me what you have done. We have time. It is not much more
+than half-past eight. On leaving me, where did you go first?"
+
+"To the commissary, who had already received your depositions."
+
+"What did he say to you?"
+
+"After having very kindly listened to all I had to state, he answered,
+that these young girls were placed in a respectable house, a convent--so
+that there did not appear any urgent necessity for their immediate
+removal--and besides, he could not take upon himself to violate the
+sanctity of a religious dwelling upon your simple testimony; to-morrow,
+he will make his report to the proper authorities, and steps will be
+taken accordingly."
+
+"Yes, yes--plenty of put offs," said the soldier.
+
+"'But, sir,' answered I to him," resumed Agricola, "'it is now, this
+very night, that you ought to act, for if these young girls should not
+be present to-morrow morning in the Rue Saint Francois, their interests
+may suffer incalculable damage. 'I am very sorry for it,' replied he,
+'but I cannot, upon your simple declaration, or that of your father,
+who--like yourself--is no relation or connection of these young persons,
+act in direct opposition to forms, which could not be set aside, even on
+the demand of a family. The law has its delays and its formalities, to
+which we are obliged to submit.'"
+
+"Certainly!" said Dagobert. "We must submit to them, at the risk of
+becoming cowardly, ungrateful traitors!"
+
+"Didst speak also of Mdlle. de Cardoville to him?" asked the work-girl.
+
+"Yes--but he: answered me on this subject in much the same manner: 'It
+was very serious; there was no proof in support of my deposition. A
+third party had told me that Mdlle. de Cardoville affirms she was not
+mad; but all mad people pretend to be sane. He could not, therefore,
+upon my sole testimony, take upon himself to enter the house of a
+respectable physician. But he would report upon it, and the law would
+have its course--'"
+
+"When I wished to act just now for myself," said Dagobert, "did I not
+forsee all this? And yet I was weak enough to listen to you."
+
+"But, father, what you wished to attempt was impossible, and you agreed
+that it would expose you to far too dangerous consequences."
+
+"So," resumed the soldier, without answering his son, "they told you in
+plain terms, that we must not think of obtaining legally the release of
+Rose and Blanche this evening or even to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Yes, father. In the eyes of the law, there is no special urgency. The
+question may not be decided for two or three days."
+
+"That is all I wished to know," said Dagobert, rising and walking up and
+down the room.
+
+"And yet," resumed his son, "I did not consider myself beaten. In
+despair, but believing that justice could not remain deaf to such
+equitable claims, I ran to the Palais de Justice, hoping to find there a
+judge, a magistrate who would receive my complaint, and act upon it."
+
+"Well?" said the soldier, stopping him.
+
+"I was told that the courts shut every day at five o'clock, and do not
+open again til ten in the morning. Thinking of your despair, and of the
+position of poor Mdlle. de Cardoville, I determined to make one more
+attempt. I entered a guard-house of troops of the line, commanded by a
+lieutenant. I told him all. He saw that I was so much moved,
+and I spoke with such warmth and conviction, that he became
+interested.--'Lieutenant,' said I to him, 'grant me one favor; let
+a petty officer and two soldiers go to the convent to obtain a legal
+entrance. Let them ask to see the daughters of Marshal Simon, and
+learn whether it is their choice to remain, or return to my father, who
+brought them from Russia. You will then see if they are not detained
+against their will--'"
+
+"And what answer did he give you, Agricola?" asked Mother Bunch, while
+Dagobert shrugged his shoulders, and continued to walk up and down.
+
+"'My good fellow,' said he, 'what you ask me is impossible. I understand
+your motives, but I cannot take upon myself so serious a measure. I
+should be broke were I to enter a convent by force.--'Then, sir, what am
+I to do? It is enough to turn one's head.'--'Faith, I don't know,' said
+the lieutenant; 'it will be safest, I think, to wait.'--Then, believing
+I had done all that was possible, father, I resolved to come back, in
+the hope that you might have been more fortunate than I--but, alas! I
+was deceived!"
+
+So saying, the smith sank upon a chair, for he was worn out with anxiety
+and fatigue. There was a moment of profound silence after these words of
+Agricola, which destroyed the last hopes of the three, mute and crushed
+beneath the strokes of inexorable fatality.
+
+A new incident came to deepen the sad and painful character of this
+scene.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. DISCOVERIES.
+
+The door which Agricola had not thought of fastening opened, as it were,
+timidly, and Frances Baudoin, Dagobert's wife, pale, sinking, hardly
+able to support herself, appeared on the threshold.
+
+The soldier, Agricola, and Mother Bunch, were plunged in such deep
+dejection, that neither of them at first perceived the entrance. Frances
+advanced two steps into the room, fell upon her knees, clasped her
+hands together, and said in a weak and humble voice; "My poor
+husband--pardon!"
+
+At these words, Agricola and the work-girl--whose backs were towards the
+door--turned round suddenly, and Dagobert hastily raised his head.
+
+"My mother!" cried Agricola, running to Frances.
+
+"My wife!" cried Dagobert, as he also rose, and advanced to meet the
+unfortunate woman.
+
+"On your knees, dear mother!" said Agricola, stooping down to embrace
+her affectionately. "Get up, I entreat you!"
+
+"No, my child," said Frances, in her mild, firm accents, "I will not
+rise, till your father has forgiven me. I have wronged him much--now I
+know it."
+
+"Forgive you, my poor wife?" said the soldier, as he drew near with
+emotion. "Have I ever accused you, except in my first transport of
+despair? No, no; it was the bad priests that I accused, and there I was
+right. Well! I have you again," added he, assisting his son to raise
+Frances; "one grief the less. They have then restored you to liberty?
+Yesterday, I could not even learn in what prison they had put you. I
+have so many cares that I could not think of you only. But come, dear
+wife: sit down!"
+
+"How feeble you are, dear mother!--how cold--how pale!" said Agricola
+with anguish, his eyes filling with tears.
+
+"Why did you not let us know?" added he. "We would have gone to fetch
+you. But how you tremble! Your hands are frozen!" continued the smith,
+as he knelt down before Frances. Then, turning towards Mother Bunch:
+"Pray, make a little fire directly."
+
+"I thought of it, as soon as your father came in, Agricola, but there is
+no wood nor charcoal left."
+
+"Then pray borrow some of Father Loriot, my dear sister. He is too good
+a fellow to refuse. My poor mother trembles so--she might fall ill."
+
+Hardly had he said the words, than Mother Bunch went out. The smith rose
+from the ground, took the blanket from the bed, and carefully wrapped
+it about the knees and feet of his mother. Then, again kneeling down, he
+said to her: "Your hands, dear mother!" and, taking those feeble palms
+in his own, he tried to warm them with his breath.
+
+Nothing could be more touching than this picture: the robust young man,
+with his energetic and resolute countenance, expressing by his looks
+the greatest tenderness, and paying the most delicate attentions to his
+poor, pale, trembling old mother.
+
+Dagobert, kind-hearted as his son, went to fetch a pillow, and brought
+it to his wife, saying: "Lean forward a little, and I will put this
+pillow behind you; you will be more comfortable and warmer."
+
+"How you both spoil me!" said Frances, trying to smile. "And you to
+be so kind, after all the ill I have done!" added she to Dagobert,
+as, disengaging one of her hands from those of her son, she took the
+soldier's hand and pressed it to her tearful eyes. "In prison," said she
+in a low voice, "I had time to repent."
+
+Agricola's heart was near breaking at the thought that his pious and
+good mother, with her angelic purity, should for a moment have been
+confined in prison with so many miserable creatures. He would have made
+some attempt to console her on the subject of the painful past, but he
+feared to give a new shock to Dagobert, and was silent.
+
+"Where is Gabriel, dear mother?" inquired he. "How is he? As you have
+seen him, tell us all about him."
+
+"I have seen Gabriel," said Frances, drying her tears; "he is confined
+at home. His superiors have rigorously forbidden his going out. Luckily,
+they did not prevent his receiving me, for his words and counsels have
+opened my eyes to many things. It is from him that I learned how guilty
+I had been to you, my poor husband."
+
+"How so?" asked Dagobert.
+
+"Why, you know that if I caused you so much grief, it was not from
+wickedness. When I saw you in such despair, I suffered almost as much
+myself; but I durst not tell you so, for fear of breaking my oath. I had
+resolved to keep it, believing that I did well, believing that it was
+my duty. And yet something told me that it could not be my duty to
+cause you so much pain. 'Alas, my God! enlighten me!' I exclaimed in
+my prison, as I knelt down and prayed, in spite of the mockeries of
+the other women. 'Why should a just and pious work, commanded by my
+confessor, the most respectable of men, overwhelm me and mine with so
+much misery? 'Have mercy on me, my God, and teach me if I have done
+wrong without knowing it!' As I prayed with fervor, God heard me, and
+inspired me with the idea of applying to Gabriel. 'I thank Thee, Father!
+I will obey!' said I within myself. 'Gabriel is like my own child; but
+he is also a priest, a martyr--almost a saint. If any one in the world
+imitates the charity of our blessed Saviour, it is surely he. When I
+leave this prison, I will go and consult him and he will clear up my
+doubts.'"
+
+"You are right, dear mother," cried Agricola; "it was a thought from
+heaven. Gabriel is an angel of purity, courage, nobleness--the type of
+the true and good priest!"
+
+"Ah, poor wife!" said Dagobert, with bitterness; "if you had never had
+any confessor but Gabriel!"
+
+"I thought of it before he went on his journey," said Frances, with
+simplicity. "I should have liked to confess to the dear boy--but I
+fancied Abbe Dubois would be offended, and that Gabriel would be too
+indulgent with regard to my sins.
+
+"Your sins, poor dear mother?" said Agricola. "As if you ever committed
+any!"
+
+"And what did Gabriel tell you?" asked the soldier.
+
+"Alas, my dear! had I but had such an interview with him sooner! What
+I told him of Abbe Dubois roused his suspicions, and he questioned me,
+dear child, as to many things of which he had never spoken to me before.
+Then I opened to him my whole heart, and he did the same to me, and
+we both made sad discoveries with regard to persons whom we had always
+thought very respectable, and who yet had deceived each of us, unknown
+to the other."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Why, they used to tell him, under the seal of secrecy, things that were
+supposed to come from me; and they used to tell me, under the same
+seal of secrecy, things that were supposed to come from him. Thus, he
+confessed to me, that he did not feel at first any vocation for the
+priesthood; but they told him that I should not believe myself safe in
+this world or in the next, if he did not take orders, because I felt
+persuaded that I could best serve the Lord by giving Him so good a
+servant; and that yet I had never dared to ask Gabriel himself to give
+me this proof of his attachment, though I had taken him from the street,
+a deserted orphan, and brought him up as my own son, at the cost of
+labor and privations. Then, how could it be otherwise? The poor dear
+child, thinking he could please me, sacrificed himself. He entered the
+seminary."
+
+"Horrible," said Agricola; "'tis an infamous snare, and, for the priests
+who were guilty of it, a sacrilegious lie!"
+
+"During all that time," resumed Frances, "they were holding very
+different language to me. I was told that Gabriel felt his vocation, but
+that he durst not avow it to me, for fear of my being jealous on account
+of Agricola, who, being brought up as a workman, would not enjoy the
+same advantages as those which the priesthood would secure to Gabriel.
+So when he asked my permission to enter the seminary dear child!
+he entered it with regret, but he thought he was making me so
+happy!--instead of discouraging this idea, I did all in my power to
+persuade him to follow it, assuring him that he could not do better, and
+that it would occasion me great joy. You understand, I exaggerated, for
+fear he should think me jealous on account of Agricola."
+
+"What an odious machination!" said Agricola, in amazement. "They were
+speculating in this unworthy manner upon your mutual devotion. Thus
+Gabriel saw the expression of your dearest wish in the almost forced
+encouragement given to his resolution."
+
+"Little by little, however, as Gabriel has the best heart in the world,
+the vocation really came to him. That was natural enough--he was born
+to console those who suffer, and devote himself for the unfortunate.
+He would never have spoken to me of the past, had it not been for this
+morning's interview. But then I beheld him, who is usually so mild and
+gentle, become indignant, exasperated, against M. Rodin and another
+person whom he accuses. He had serious complaints against them already,
+but these discoveries, he says, will make up the measure."
+
+At these words of Frances, Dagobert pressed his hand to his forehead, as
+if to recall something to his memory. For some minutes he had listened
+with surprise, and almost terror, to the account of these secret plots,
+conducted with such deep and crafty dissimulation.
+
+Frances continued: "When at last I acknowledged to Gabriel, that by the
+advice of Abbe Dubois, my confessor, I had delivered to a stranger the
+children confined to my husband--General Simon's daughters--the dear boy
+blamed me, though with great regret, not for having wished to instruct
+the poor orphans in the truths of our holy religion, but for having
+acted without the consent of my husband, who alone was answerable before
+God and man for the charge entrusted to him. Gabriel severely censured
+Abbe Dubois' conduct, who had given me, he said, bad and perfidious
+counsels; and then, with the sweetness of an angel, the dear boy
+consoled me, and exhorted me to come and tell you all. My poor husband!
+he would fain have accompanied me, for I had scarcely courage to
+come hither, so strongly did I feel the wrong I had done you; but,
+unfortunately, Gabriel is confined at the seminary by the strict order
+of his superiors; he could not come with me, and--"
+
+Here Dagobert, who seemed much agitated, abruptly interrupted his wife.
+"One word, Frances," said he; "for, in truth, in the midst of so many
+cares, and black, diabolical plots, one loses one's memory, and the head
+begins to wander. Didst not tell me, the day the children disappeared,
+that Gabriel, when taken in by you, had round his neck a bronze medal,
+and in his pocket a book filled with papers in a foreign language?"
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"And this medal and these papers were afterwards delivered to your
+confessor?"
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"And Gabriel never spoke of them since?"
+
+"Never."
+
+Agricola, hearing this from his mother, looked at her with surprise,
+and exclaimed: "Then Gabriel has the same interest as the daughters of
+General Simon, or Mdlle. de Cardoville, to be in the Rue Saint-Francois
+to-morrow?"
+
+"Certainly," said Dagobert. "And now do you remember what he said to us,
+just after my arrival--that, in a few days, he would need our support in
+a serious matter?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"And he is kept a prisoner at his seminary! And he tells your mother
+that he has to complain of his superiors! and he asked us for our
+support with so sad and grave an air, that I said to him--"
+
+"He would speak so, if about to engage in a deadly duel," interrupted
+Agricola. "True, father! and yet you, who are a good judge of valor,
+acknowledged that Gabriel's courage was equal to yours. For him so to
+fear his superiors, the danger must be great indeed."
+
+"Now that I have heard your mother, I understand it all," said Dagobert.
+"Gabriel is like Rose and Blanche, like Mdlle. de Cardoville, like your
+mother, like all of us, perhaps--the victim of a secret conspiracy of
+wicked priests. Now that I know their dark machinations, their infernal
+perseverance, I see," added the soldier, in a whisper, "that it requires
+strength to struggle against them. I had not the least idea of their
+power."
+
+"You are right, father; for those who are hypocritical and wicked do as
+much harm as those who are good and charitable, like Gabriel, do good.
+There is no more implacable enemy than a bad priest."
+
+"I know it, and that's what frightens me; for my poor children are
+in their hands. But is all lost? Shall I bring myself to give them up
+without an effort? Oh, no, no! I will not show any weakness--and yet,
+since your mother told us of these diabolical plots, I do not know how
+it is but I seem less strong, less resolute. What is passing around me
+appears so terrible. The spiriting away of these children is no longer
+an isolated fact--it is one of the ramifications of a vast conspiracy,
+which surrounds and threatens us all. It seems to me as if I and those I
+love walked together in darkness, in the midst of serpents, in the midst
+of snares that we can neither see nor struggle against. Well! I'll
+speak out! I have never feared death--I am not a coward and yet I
+confess--yes, I confess it--these black robes frighten me--"
+
+Dagobert pronounced these words in so sincere a tone, that his son
+started, for he shared the same impression. And it was quite natural.
+Frank, energetic, resolute characters, accustomed to act and fight in
+the light of day, never feel but one fear--and that is, to be ensnared
+and struck in the dark by enemies that escape their grasp. Thus,
+Dagobert had encountered death twenty times; and yet, on hearing his
+wife's simple revelation of this dark tissue of lies, and treachery, and
+crime, the soldier felt a vague sense of fear; and, though nothing
+was changed in the conditions of his nocturnal enterprise against the
+convent, it now appeared to him in a darker and more dangerous light.
+
+The silence, which had reigned for some moments, was interrupted by
+Mother Bunch's return. The latter, knowing that the interview between
+Dagobert, his wife, and Agricola, ought not have any importunate
+witness, knocked lightly at the door, and remained in the passage with
+Father Loriot.
+
+"Can we come in, Mme. Frances?" asked the sempstress. "Here is Father
+Loriot, bringing some wood."
+
+"Yes, yes; come in, my good girl," said Agricola, whilst his father
+wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
+
+The door opened, and the worthy dyer appeared, with his hands and arms
+of an amaranthine color; on one side, he carried a basket of wood, and
+on the other some live coal in a shovel.
+
+"Good-evening to the company!" said Daddy Loriot. "Thank you for having
+thought of me, Mme. Frances. You know that my shop and everything in it
+are at your service. Neighbors should help one another; that's my motto!
+You were kind enough, I should think, to my late wife!"
+
+Then, placing the wood in a corner, and giving the shovel to Agricola,
+the worthy dyer, guessing from the sorrowful appearance of the different
+actors in this scene, that it would be impolite to prolong his visit,
+added: "You don't want anything else, Mme. Frances?"
+
+"No, thank you, Father Loriot."
+
+"Then, good-evening to the company!" said the dyer; and, addressing
+Mother Bunch, he added: "Don't forget the letter for M. Dagobert. I
+durstn't touch it for fear of leaving the marks of my four fingers and
+thumb in amaranthine! But, good evening to the company!" and Father
+Loriot went out.
+
+"M. Dagobert, here is a letter," said Mother Bunch. She set herself to
+light the fire in the stove, while Agricola drew his mother's arm-chair
+to the hearth.
+
+"See what it is, my boy," said Dagobert to his son; "my head is so heavy
+that I cannot see clear." Agricola took the letter, which contained only
+a few lines, and read it before he looked at the signature.
+
+     "At Sea, December 25th, 1831.
+
+     "I avail myself of a few minutes' communication with a ship bound
+     direct for Europe, to write to you, my old comrade, a few hasty
+     lines, which will reach you probably by way of Havre, before the
+     arrival of my last letters from India. You must by this time be at
+     Paris, with my wife and child--tell them--I am unable to say more
+     --the boat is departing. Only one word; I shall soon be in France.
+     Do not forget the 13th February; the future of my wife and child
+     depends upon it.
+
+     "Adieu, my friend! Believe in my eternal gratitude.
+
+     "SIMON."
+
+"Agricola--quick! look to your father!" cried the hunchback.
+
+From the first words of this letter, which present circumstances made so
+cruelly applicable, Dagobert had become deadly pale. Emotion, fatigue,
+exhaustion, joined to this last blow, made him stagger.
+
+His son hastened to him, and supported him in his arms. But soon the
+momentary weakness passed away, and Dagobert, drawing his hand across
+his brow, raised his tall figure to its full height. Then, whilst his
+eye sparkled, his rough countenance took an expression of determined
+resolution, and he exclaimed, in wild excitement: "No, no! I will not
+be a traitor; I will not be a coward. The black robes shall not frighten
+me; and, this night, Rose and Blanche Simon shall be free!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE PENAL CODE.
+
+Startled for a moment by the dark and secret machinations of the black
+robes, as he called them, against the persons he most loved, Dagobert
+might have hesitated an instant to attempt the deliverance of Rose and
+Blanche; but his indecision ceased directly on the reading of Marshal
+Simon's letter, which came so timely to remind him of his sacred duties.
+
+To the soldier's passing dejection had succeeded a resolution full of
+calm and collected energy.
+
+"Agricola, what o'clock is it?" asked he of his son.
+
+"Just struck nine, father."
+
+"You must make me, directly, an iron hook--strong enough to support my
+weight, and wide enough to hold on the coping of a wall. This stove will
+be forge and anvil; you will find a hammer in the house; and, for iron,"
+said the soldier, hesitating, and looking around him, "as for iron--here
+is some!"
+
+So saying, the soldier took from the hearth a strong pair of tongs, and
+presented them to his son, adding: "Come, my boy! blow up the fire, blow
+it to a white heat, and forge me this iron!"
+
+On these words, Frances and Agricola looked at each other with surprise;
+the smith remained mute and confounded, not knowing the resolution
+of his father, and the preparations he had already commenced with the
+needlewoman's aid.
+
+"Don't you hear me, Agricola," repeated Dagobert, still holding the pair
+of tongs in his hand; "you must make me a hook directly."
+
+"A hook, father?--for what purpose?"
+
+"To tie to the end of a cord that I have here. There must be a loop at
+one end large enough to fix it securely."
+
+"But this cord--this hook--for what purpose are they?"
+
+"To scale the walls of the convent, if I cannot get in by the door."
+
+"What convent?" asked Frances of her son.
+
+"How, father?" cried the latter, rising abruptly. "You still think of
+that?"
+
+"Why! what else should I think of?"
+
+"But, father, it is impossible; you will never attempt such an
+enterprise."
+
+"What is it, my child?" asked Frances, with anxiety. "Where is father
+going?"
+
+"He is going to break into the convent where Marshal Simon's daughters
+are confined, and carry them off."
+
+"Great God! my poor husband--a sacrilege!" cried Frances, faithful to
+her pious traditions, and, clasping her hands together, she endeavored
+to rise and approach Dagobert.
+
+The soldier, forseeing that he would have to contend with observations
+and prayers of all sorts, and resolved not to yield, determined to cut
+short all useless supplications, which would only make him lose precious
+time. He said, therefore, with a grave, severe, and almost solemn air,
+which showed the inflexibility of his determination: "Listen to me,
+wife--and you also, my son--when, at my age, a man makes up his mind to
+do anything, he knows the reason why. And when a man has once made up
+his mind, neither wife nor child can alter it. I have resolved to do my
+duty; so spare yourselves useless words. It may be your duty to talk to
+me as you have done; but it is over now, and we will say no more about
+it. This evening I must be master in my own house."
+
+Timid and alarmed, Frances did not dare to utter a word, but she turned
+a supplicating glance towards her son.
+
+"Father," said the latter, "one word more--only one."
+
+"Let us hear," replied Dagobert, impatiently.
+
+"I will not combat your resolution; but I will prove to you that you do
+not know to what you expose yourself."
+
+"I know it all," replied the soldier, in an abrupt tone. "The
+undertaking is a serious one; but it shall not be said that I neglected
+any means to accomplish what I promised to do."
+
+"But father, you do not know to what danger you expose yourself," said
+the smith, much alarmed.
+
+"Talk of danger! talk of the porter's gun and the gardener's scythe!"
+said Dagobert, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously. "Talk of them,
+and have done with it for, after all, suppose I were to leave my carcass
+in the convent, would not you remain to your mother? For twenty years,
+you were accustomed to do without me. It will be all the less trying to
+you."
+
+"And I, alas! am the cause of these misfortunes!" cried the poor mother.
+"Ah! Gabriel had good reason to blame me."
+
+"Mme. Frances, be comforted," whispered the sempstress, who had drawn
+near to Dagobert's wife. "Agricola will not suffer his father to expose
+himself thus."
+
+After a moment's hesitation, the smith resumed, in an agitated voice:
+"I know you too well, father, to think of stopping you by the fear of
+death."
+
+"Of what danger, then, do you speak?"
+
+"Of a danger from which even you will shrink, brave as you are," said
+the young man, in a voice of emotion, that forcibly struck his father.
+
+"Agricola," said the soldier, roughly and severely, "that remark is
+cowardly, you are insulting."
+
+"Father--"
+
+"Cowardly!" resumed the soldier, angrily; "because it is cowardice to
+wish to frighten a man from his duty--insulting! because you think me
+capable of being so frightened."
+
+"Oh, M. Dagobert!" exclaimed the sewing-girl, "you do not understand
+Agricola."
+
+"I understand him too well," answered the soldier harshly.
+
+Painfully affected by the severity of his father, but firm in his
+resolution, which sprang from love and respect, Agricola resumed, whilst
+his heart beat violently. "Forgive me, if I disobey you, father; but,
+were you to hate me for it, I must tell you to what you expose yourself
+by scaling at night the walls of a convent--"
+
+"My son! do you dare?" cried Dagobert, his countenance inflamed with
+rage-"Agricola!" exclaimed Frances, in tears. "My husband!"
+
+"M. Dagobert, listen to Agricola!" exclaimed Mother Bunch. "It is only
+in your interest that he speaks."
+
+"Not one word more!" replied the soldier, stamping his foot with anger.
+
+"I tell you, father," exclaimed the smith, growing fearfully pale as he
+spoke, "that you risk being sent to the galleys!"
+
+"Unhappy boy!" cried Dagobert, seizing his son by the arm; "could you
+not keep that from me--rather than expose me to become a traitor and a
+coward?" And the soldier shuddered, as he repeated: "The galleys!"--and,
+bending down his head, remained mute, pensive, withered, as it were, by
+those blasting words.
+
+"Yes, to enter an inhabited place by night, in such a manner, is what
+the law calls burglary, and punishes with the galleys," cried Agricola,
+at once grieved and rejoicing at his father's depression of mind--"yes,
+father, the galleys, if you are taken in the act; and there are ten
+chances to one that you would be so. Mother Bunch has told you, the
+convent is guarded. This morning, had you attempted to carry off the two
+young ladies in broad daylight, you would have been arrested; but, at
+least, the attempt would have been an open one, with a character of
+honest audacity about it, that hereafter might have procured your
+acquittal. But to enter by night, and by scaling the walls--I tell you,
+the galleys would be the consequence. Now, father, decide. Whatever you
+do, I will do also--for you shall not go alone. Say but the word, and I
+will forge the hook for you--I have here hammer and pincers--and in an
+hour we will set out."
+
+A profound silence followed these words--a silence that was only
+interrupted by the stifled sobs of Frances, who muttered to herself in
+despair: "Alas! this is the consequence of listening to Abbe Dubois!"
+
+It was in vain that Mother Bunch tried to console Frances. She was
+herself alarmed, for the soldier was capable of braving even infamy, and
+Agricola had determined to share the perils of his father.
+
+In spite of his energetic and resolute character, Dagobert remained for
+some time in a kind of stupor. According to his military habits, he had
+looked at this nocturnal enterprise only as a ruse de guerre, authorized
+by his good cause, and by the inexorable fatality of his position; but
+the words of his son brought him back to the fearful reality, and
+left him the choice of a terrible alternative--either to betray the
+confidence of Marshal Simon, and set at naught the last wishes of the
+mother of the orphan--or else to expose himself, and above all his
+son, to lasting disgrace--without even the certainty of delivering the
+orphans after all.
+
+Drying her eyes, bathed in tears, Frances exclaimed, as if by a sudden
+inspiration: "Dear me! I have just thought of it. There is perhaps a way
+of getting these dear children from the convent without violence."
+
+"How so, mother?" said Agricola, hastily.
+
+"It is Abbe Dubois, who had them conveyed thither; but Gabriel supposes,
+that he probably acted by the advice of M. Rodin.
+
+"And if that were so, mother, it would be in vain to apply to M. Rodin.
+We should get nothing from him."
+
+"Not from him--but perhaps from that powerful abbe, who is Gabriel's
+superior, and has always patronized him since his first entrance at the
+seminary."
+
+"What abbe, mother?"
+
+"Abbe d'Aigrigny."
+
+"True mother; before being a priest, he was a soldier he may be more
+accessible than others--and yet--"
+
+"D'Aigrigny!" cried Dagobert, with an expression of hate and horror.
+"There is then mixed up with these treasons, a man who was a soldier
+before being a priest, and whose name is D'Aigrigny?"
+
+"Yes, father; the Marquis d'Aigrigny--before the Restoration, in the
+service of Russia--but, in 1815, the Bourbons gave him a regiment."
+
+"It is he!" said Dagobert, in a hollow voice. "Always the same! like an
+evil spirit--to the mother, father, children."
+
+"What do you mean, father?"
+
+"The Marquis d'Aigrigny!" replied Dagobert. "Do you know what is this
+man? Before he was a priest, he was the murderer of Rose and Blanche's
+mother, because she despised his love. Before he was a priest, he fought
+against his country, and twice met General Simon face to face in war.
+Yes; while the general was prisoner at Leipsic, covered with wounds
+at Waterloo, the turncoat marquis triumphed with the Russians and
+English!--Under the Bourbons, this same renegade, loaded with honors,
+found himself once more face to face with the persecuted soldier of the
+empire. Between them, this time, there was a mortal duel--the marquis
+was wounded--General Simon was proscribed, condemned, driven into exile.
+The renegade, you say, has become a priest. Well! I am now certain, that
+it is he who has carried off Rose and Blanche, in order to wreak on them
+his hatred of their father and mother. It is the infamous D'Aigrigny,
+who holds them in his power. It is no longer the fortune of these
+children that I have to defend; it is their life--do you hear what I
+say?--their very life?"
+
+"What, father! do you think this man capable--"
+
+"A traitor to his country, who finishes by becoming a mock priest, is
+capable of anything. I tell you, that, perhaps at this moment he may
+be killing those children by a slow-fire!" exclaimed the soldier, in a
+voice of agony. "To separate them from one another was to begin to kill
+them. Yes!" added Dagobert, with an exasperation impossible to describe;
+"the daughters of Marshal Simon are in the power of the Marquis
+d'Aigrigny and his band, and I hesitate to attempt their rescue, for
+fear of the galleys! The galleys!" added he, with a convulsive burst of
+laughter; "what do I care for the galleys? Can they send a corpse there?
+If this last attempt fail, shall I not have the right to blow my brains
+out?--Put the iron in the fire, my boy--quick! time presses--and strike
+while the iron's hot!"
+
+"But your son goes with you!" exclaimed Frances, with a cry of maternal
+despair. Then rising, she threw herself at the feet of Dagobert, and
+said: "If you are arrested, he will be arrested also."
+
+"To escape the galleys, he will do as I do. I have two pistols."
+
+"And without you--without him," cried the unhappy mother, extending her
+hands in supplication, "what will become of me?"
+
+"You are right--I was too selfish," said Dagobert. "I will go alone."
+
+"You shall not go alone, father," replied Agricola.
+
+"But your mother?"
+
+"Mother Bunch sees what is passing; she will go to Mr. Hardy, my master,
+and tell him all. He is the most generous of men, and my mother will
+have food and shelter for the rest of her days."
+
+"And I am the cause of all!" cried Frances, wringing her hands in
+despair. "Punish me, oh, heaven! for it is my fault. I gave up those
+children. I shall be punished by the death of my child!"
+
+"Agricola, you shall not go with me--I forbid it!" said Dagobert,
+clasping his son closely to his breast.
+
+"What! when I have pointed out the danger, am I to be the first to
+shrink from it? you cannot think thus lowly of me, father! Have I not
+also some one to deliver? The good, the generous Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+who tried to save me from a prison, is a captive in her turn. I will
+follow you, father. It is my right, my duty, my determination."
+
+So saying, Agricola put into the heated stove the tongs that were
+intended to form the hook. "Alas! may heaven have pity upon us!" cried
+his poor mother, sobbing as she still knelt, whilst the soldier seemed a
+prey to the most violent internal struggle.
+
+"Do not cry so, dear mother; you will break my heart," said Agricola,
+as he raised her with the sempstress's help. "Be comforted! I have
+exaggerated the danger of my father. By acting prudently, we two may
+succeed in our enterprise; without much risk--eh, father?" added he,
+with a significant glance at Dagobert. "Once more, be comforted, dear
+mother. I will answer for everything. We will deliver Marshal Simon's
+daughters, and Mdlle. de Cardoville too. Sister, give me the hammer and
+pincers, there in the press."
+
+The sempstress, drying her tears, did as desired, while Agricola, by the
+help of bellows, revived the fire in which the tongs were heating.
+
+"Here are your tools, Agricola," said the hunchback, in a
+deeply-agitated voice, as she presented them with trembling hands to
+the smith, who, with the aid of the pincers, soon drew from the fire
+the white-hot tongs, and, with vigorous blows of the hammer, formed them
+into a hook, taking the stove for his anvil.
+
+Dagobert had remained silent and pensive. Suddenly he said to Frances,
+taking her by the hand: "You know what metal your son is. To prevent his
+following me would now be impossible. But do not be afraid, dear wife;
+we shall succeed--at least, I hope so. And if we should not succeed--if
+Agricola and me should be arrested--well! we are not cowards; we shall
+not commit suicide; but father and son will go arm in arm to prison,
+with heads high and proud, look like two brave men who have done their
+duty. The day of trial must come, and we will explain all, honestly,
+openly--we will say, that, driven to the last extremity, finding no
+support, no protection in the law, we were forced to have recourse to
+violence. So hammer away, my boy!" added Dagobert, addressing his son,
+pounding the hot iron; "forge, forge, without fear. Honest judges will
+absolve honest men."
+
+"Yes, father, you are right, be at ease dear mother! The judges will see
+the difference between rascals who scale walls in order to rob, and
+an old soldier and his son who, at peril of their liberty, their life,
+their honor, have sought only to deliver unhappy victims."
+
+"And if this language should not be heard," resumed Dagobert, "so much
+the worse for them! It will not be your son, or husband, who will be
+dishonored in the eyes of honest people. If they send us to the galleys,
+and we have courage to survive--the young and the old convict will wear
+their chains proudly--and the renegade marquis, the traitor priest,
+will bear more shame than we. So, forge without fear, my boy! There are
+things which the galleys themselves cannot disgrace--our good conscience
+and our honor! But now," he added, "two words with my good Mother Bunch.
+It grows late, and time presses. On entering the garden, did you remark
+if the windows of the convent were far from the ground?"
+
+"No, not very far, M. Dagobert--particularly on that side which is
+opposite to the madhouse, where Mdlle. de Cardoville is confined."
+
+"How did you manage to speak to that young lady?"
+
+"She was on the other side of an open paling, which separates the two
+gardens."
+
+"Excellent!" said Agricola, as he continued to hammer the iron: "we can
+easily pass from one garden to the other. The madhouse may perhaps
+be the readier way out. Unfortunately, you do not know, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's chamber."
+
+"Yes, I do," returned the work-girl, recollecting herself. "She is
+lodged in one of the wings, and there is a shade over her window,
+painted like canvas, with blue and white stripes."
+
+"Good! I shall not forget that."
+
+"And can you form no guess as to where are the rooms of my poor
+children?" said Dagobert.
+
+After a moment's reflection, Mother Bunch answered, "They are opposite
+to the chamber occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville, for she makes signs
+to them from her window: and I now remember she told me, that their two
+rooms are on different stories, one on the ground-floor, and the other
+up one pair of stairs."
+
+"Are these windows grated?" asked the smith.
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Never mind, my good girl: with these indications we shall do very
+well," said Dagobert. "For the rest, I have my plans."
+
+"Some water, my little sister," said Agricola, "that I may cool my
+iron." Then addressing his father: "Will this hook do?"
+
+"Yes, my boy; as soon as it is cold we will fasten the cord."
+
+For some time, Frances Baudoin had remained upon her knees, praying with
+fervor. She implored Heaven to have pity on Agricola and Dagobert,
+who, in their ignorance, were about to commit a great crime; and she
+entreated that the celestial vengeance might fall upon her only, as she
+alone had been the cause of the fatal resolution of her son and husband.
+
+Dagobert and Agricola finished their preparations in silence. They
+were both very pale, and solemnly grave. They felt all the danger of so
+desperate an enterprise.
+
+The clock at Saint-Mery's struck ten. The sound of the bell was faint,
+and almost drowned by the lashing of the wind and rain, which had not
+ceased for a moment.
+
+"Ten o'clock!" said Dagobert, with a start. "There is not a minute to
+lose. Take the sack, Agricola."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+As he went to fetch the sack, Agricola approached Mother Bunch, who was
+hardly able to sustain herself, and said to her in a rapid whisper: "If
+we are not here to-morrow, take care of my mother. Go to M. Hardy, who
+will perhaps have returned from his journey. Courage, my sister! embrace
+me. I leave poor mother to you." The smith, deeply affected, pressed the
+almost fainting girl in his arms.
+
+"Come, old Spoil-sport," said Dagobert: "you shall be our scout."
+Approaching his wife, who, just risen from the ground, was clasping her
+son's head to her bosom, and covering it with tears and kisses, he said
+to her, with a semblance of calmness and serenity: "Come, my dear wife,
+be reasonable! Make us a good fire. In two or three hours we will bring
+home the two poor children, and a fine young lady. Kiss me! that will
+bring me luck."
+
+Frances threw herself on her husband's neck, without uttering a word.
+This mute despair, mingled with convulsive sobs, was heart-rending.
+Dagobert was obliged to tear himself from his wife's arms, and striving
+to conceal his emotion, he said to his son, in an agitated voice:
+"Let us go--she unmans me. Take care of her, my good Mother Bunch.
+Agricola--come!"
+
+The soldier slipped the pistols into the pocket of his great coat, and
+rushed towards the door, followed by Spoil-sport.
+
+"My son, let me embrace you once more--alas! it is perhaps for the last
+time!" cried the unfortunate mother, incapable of rising, but stretching
+out her arms to Agricola. "Forgive me! it is all my fault."
+
+The smith turned back, mingled his tears with those of his mother--for
+he also wept--and murmured, in a stifled voice: "Adieu, dear mother! Be
+comforted. We shall soon meet again."
+
+Then, escaping from the embrace, he joined his father upon the stairs.
+
+Frances Baudoin heaved a long sigh, and fell almost lifeless into the
+needlewoman's arms.
+
+Dagobert and Agricola left the Rue Brise-Miche in the height of
+the storm, and hastened with great strides towards the Boulevard de
+l'Hopital, followed by the dog.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. BURGLARY.
+
+Half-past eleven had just struck, when Dagobert and his son arrived on
+the Boulevard de l'Hopital.
+
+The wind blew violently, and the rain fell down in torrents, but
+notwithstanding the thickness of the watery clouds, it was tolerably
+light, thanks to the late rising of the moon. The tall, dark trees, and
+the white walls of the convent garden, were distinguishable in the midst
+of the pale glimmer. Afar off, a street lamp, acted on by the wind, with
+its red lights hardly visible through the mist and rain, swung backwards
+and forwards over the dirty causeway of the solitary boulevard.
+
+At rare intervals, they heard, at a very great distance, the rattle and
+rumble of a coach, returning home late; then all was again silent.
+
+Since their departure from the Rue Brise-Miche, Dagobert and his son had
+hardly exchanged a word. The design of these two brave men was noble
+and generous, and yet, resolute but pensive, they glided through the
+darkness like bandits, at the hour of nocturnal crimes.
+
+Agricola carried on his shoulders the sack containing the cord, the
+hook, and the iron bar; Dagobert leaned upon the arm of his son, and
+Spoil sport followed his master.
+
+"The bench, where we sat down, must be close by," said Dagobert,
+stopping.
+
+"Yes," said Agricola, looking around; "here it is, father."
+
+"It is oily half-past eleven--we must wait for midnight," resumed
+Dagobert. "Let us be seated for an instant, to rest ourselves, and
+decide upon our plan."
+
+After a moment's silence, the soldier took his son's hands between his
+own, and thus continued: "Agricola, my child--it is yet time. Let me
+go alone, I entreat you. I shall know very well how to get through the
+business; but the nearer the moment comes, the more I fear to drag you
+into this dangerous enterprise."
+
+"And the nearer the moment comes, father, the more I feel I may be
+of some use; but, be it good or bad, I will share the fortune of your
+adventure. Our object is praiseworthy; it is a debt of honor that you
+have to pay, and I will take one half of it. Do not fancy that I will
+now draw back. And so, dear father, let us think of our plan of action."
+
+"Then you will come?" said Dagobert, stifling a sigh.
+
+"We must do everything," proceeded Agricola, "to secure success. You
+have already noticed the little garden-door, near the angle of the
+wall--that is excellent."
+
+"We shall get by that way into the garden, and look immediately for the
+open paling."
+
+"Yes; for on one side of this paling is the wing inhabited by Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, and on the other that part of the convent in which the
+general's daughters are confined."
+
+At this moment, Spoil-sport, who was crouching at Dagobert's feet, rose
+suddenly, and pricked up his ears, as if to listen.
+
+"One would think that Spoil-sport heard something," said Agricola. They
+listened--but heard only the wind, sounding through the tall trees of
+the boulevard.
+
+"Now I think of it, father--when the garden-door is once open, shall we
+take Spoil-sport with us?"
+
+"Yes; for if there is a watch-dog, he will settle him. And then he will
+give us notice of the approach of those who go the rounds. Besides, he
+is so intelligent, so attached to Rose and Blanche, that (who knows?) he
+may help to discover the place where they are. Twenty times I have seen
+him find them in the woods, by the most extraordinary instinct."
+
+A slow and solemn knell here rose above the noise of the wind: it was
+the first stroke of twelve.
+
+That note seemed to echo mournfully through the souls of Agricola and
+his father. Mute with emotion, they shuddered, and by a spontaneous
+movement, each grasped the hand of the other. In spite of themselves,
+their hearts kept time to every stroke of the clock, as each successive
+vibration was prolonged through the gloomy silence of the night.
+
+At the last strobe, Dagobert said to his son, in a firm voice: "It is
+midnight. Shake hands, and let us forward!"
+
+The moment was decisive and solemn. "Now, father," said Agricola, "we
+will act with as much craft and daring as thieves going to pillage a
+strong box."
+
+So saying, the smith took from the sack the cord and hook; Dagobert
+armed himself with the iron bar, and both advanced cautiously, following
+the wall in the direction of the little door, situated not far from the
+angle formed by the street and the boulevard. They stopped from time to
+time, to listen attentively, trying to distinguish those noises which
+were not caused either by the high wind or the rain.
+
+It continued light enough for them to be able to see surrounding
+objects, and the smith and the soldier soon gained the little door,
+which appeared much decayed, and not very strong.
+
+"Good!" said Agricola to his father. "It will yield at one blow."
+
+The smith was about to apply his shoulder vigorously to the door, when
+Spoil-sport growled hoarsely, and made a "point." Dagobert silenced the
+dog with a word, and grasping his son's arm, said to him in a whisper:
+"Do not stir. The dog has scented some one in the garden."
+
+Agricola and his father remained for some minutes motionless, holding
+their breath and listening. The dog, in obedience to his master, no
+longer growled, but his uneasiness and agitation were displayed more and
+more. Yet they heard nothing.
+
+"The dog must have been deceived, father," whispered Agricola.
+
+"I am sure of the contrary. Do not move."
+
+After some seconds of expectation, Spoil-sport crouched down abruptly,
+and pushed his nose as far as possible under the door, snuffling up the
+air.
+
+"They are coming," said Dagobert hastily, to his son.
+
+"Let us draw off a little distance," replied Agricola.
+
+"No," said his father; "we must listen. It will be time to retire, if
+they open the door. Here, Spoil-sport! down!"
+
+The dog obeyed, and withdrawing from the door, crouched down at the feet
+of his master. Some seconds after, they heard a sort of splashing on the
+damp ground, caused by heavy footsteps in puddles of water, and then the
+sound of words, which carried away by the wind, did not reach distinctly
+the ears of the soldier and the smith.
+
+"They are the people of whom Mother Bunch told us, going their round,"
+said Agricola to his father.
+
+"So much the better. There will be an interval before they come round
+again, and we shall have some two hours before us, without interruption.
+Our affair is all right now."
+
+By degrees, the sound of the footsteps became less and less distinct,
+and at last died away altogether.
+
+"Now, quick! we must not lose any time," said Dagobert to his son, after
+waiting about ten minutes; "they are far enough. Let us try to open the
+door."
+
+Agricola leaned his powerful shoulder against it, and pushed vigorously;
+but the door did not give way, notwithstanding its age.
+
+"Confound it!" said Agricola; "there is a bar on the inside. I am sure
+of it, or these old planks would not have resisted my weight."
+
+"What is to be done?"
+
+"I will scale the wall by means of the cord and hook, and open the door
+from the other side."
+
+So saying, Agricola took the cord, and after several attempts, succeeded
+in fixing the hook on the coping of the wall.
+
+"Now, father, give me a leg up; I will help myself up with the cord;
+once astride on the wall, I can easily turn the hook and get down into
+the garden."
+
+The soldier leaned against the wall, and joined his two hands, in the
+hollow of which his son placed one of his feet, then mounting upon the
+robust shoulders of his father, he was able, by help of the cord, and
+some irregularities in the wall, to reach the top. Unfortunately, the
+smith had not perceived that the coping of the wall was strewed with
+broken bottles, so that he wounded his knees and hands; but, for fear of
+alarming Dagobert, he repressed every exclamation of pain, and replacing
+the hook, he glided down the cord to the ground. The door was close by,
+and he hastened to it; a strong wooden bar had indeed secured it on the
+inside. This was removed, and the lock was in so bad a state, that it
+offered no resistance to a violent effort from Agricola.
+
+The door was opened, and Dagobert entered the garden with Spoil-sport.
+
+"Now," said the soldier to his son, "thanks to you, the worst is
+over. Here is a means of escape for the poor children, and Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. The thing is now to find them, without accident or delay.
+Spoil-sport will go before as a scout. Come, my good dog!" added
+Dagobert, "above all--fair and softly!"
+
+Immediately, the intelligent animal advanced a few steps, sniffing and
+listening with the care and caution of a hound searching for the game.
+
+By the half-light of the clouded moon, Dagobert and his son perceived
+round them a V-shaped grove of tall trees, at which several paths met.
+Uncertain which to choose, Agricola said to his father: "Let us take
+the path that runs alongside the wall. It will surely lead to some
+building."
+
+"Right! Let us walk on the strips of grass, instead of through the mud.
+It will make less noise."
+
+The father and son, preceded by the Siberian dog, kept for some time in
+a winding path, at no great distance from the wall. They stopped now
+and then to listen, or to satisfy themselves, before continuing their
+advance, with regard to the changing aspects of the trees and bushes,
+which, shaken by the wind, and faintly illumined by the pale light of
+the moon, often took strange and doubtful forms.
+
+Half-past twelve struck as Agricola and his father reached a large
+iron gate which shut in that part of the garden reserved for the
+Superior--the same into which Mother Bunch had intruded herself, after
+seeing Rose Simon converse with Adrienne de Cardoville.
+
+Through the bars of this gate, Agricola and his father perceived at a
+little distance an open paling, which joined a half-finished chapel, and
+beyond it a little square building.
+
+"That is no doubt the building occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville," said
+Agricola.
+
+"And the building which contains the chambers of Rose and Blanche, but
+which we cannot see from here, is no doubt opposite it," said Dagobert.
+"Poor children! they are there, weeping tears of despair," added he,
+with profound emotion.
+
+"Provided the gate be but open," said Agricola.
+
+"It will probably be so--being within the walls."
+
+"Let us go on gently."
+
+The gate was only fastened by the catch of the lock. Dagobert was about
+to open it, when Agricola said to him: "Take care! do not make it creak
+on its hinges."
+
+"Shall I push it slowly or suddenly?"
+
+"Let me manage it," said Agricola; and he opened the gate so quickly,
+that it creaked very little; still the noise might have been plainly
+heard, in the silence of the night, during one of the lulls between the
+squalls of wind.
+
+Agricola and his father remained motionless for a moment, listening
+uneasily, before they ventured to pass through the gate. Nothing
+stirred, however; all remained calm and still. With fresh courage, they
+entered the reserved garden.
+
+Hardly had the dog arrived on this spot, when he exhibited tokens of
+extraordinary delight. Picking up his ears, wagging his tail, bounding
+rather than running, he had soon reached the paling where, in
+the morning, Rose Simon had for a moment conversed with Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. He stopped an instant at this place, as if at fault, and
+turned round and round like a dog seeking the scent.
+
+Dagobert and his son, leaving Spoil-sport to his instinct, followed
+his least movements with intense interest, hoping everything from his
+intelligence and his attachment to the orphans.
+
+"It was no doubt near this paling that Rose stood when Mother Bunch saw
+her," said Dagobert. "Spoil-sport is on her track. Let him alone."
+
+After a few seconds, the dog turned his head towards Dagobert, and
+started at full trot in the direction of a door on the ground-floor of
+a building, opposite to that occupied by Adrienne. Arrived at this door,
+the dog lay down, seemingly waiting for Dagobert.
+
+"No doubt of it! the children are there!" said Dagobert, hastening to
+rejoin Spoil-sport; "it was by this door that they took Rose into the
+house."
+
+"We must see if the windows are grated," said Agricola, following his
+father.
+
+"Well, old fellow!" whispered the soldier, as he came up to the dog and
+pointed to the building, "are Rose and Blanche there?"
+
+The dog lifted his head, and answered by a joyful bark. Dagobert had
+just time to seize the mouth of the animal with his hands.
+
+"He will ruin all!" exclaimed the smith. "They have, perhaps, heard
+him."
+
+"No," said Dagobert. "But there is no longer any doubt--the children are
+here."
+
+At this instant, the iron gate, by which the soldier and his son had
+entered the reserved garden, and which they had left open, fell to with
+a loud noise.
+
+"They've shut us in," said Agricola, hastily; "and there is no other
+issue."
+
+For a moment, the father and son looked in dismay at each other; but
+Agricola instantly resumed: "The gate has perhaps shut of itself. I will
+make haste to assure myself of this, and to open it again if possible."
+
+"Go quickly; I will examine the windows."
+
+Agricola flew towards the gate, whilst Dagobert, gliding along the wall,
+soon reached the windows on the ground floor. They were four in number,
+and two of them were not grated. He looked up at the first story; it was
+not very far from the ground, and none of the windows had bars. It would
+then be easy for that one of the two sisters, who inhabited this story,
+once informed of their presence, to let herself down by means of a
+sheet, as the orphans had already done to escape from the inn of
+the White Falcon. But the difficult thing was to know which room she
+occupied. Dagobert thought they might learn this from the sister on the
+ground floor; but then there was another difficulty--at which of the
+four windows should they knock?
+
+Agricola returned precipitately. "It was the wind, no doubt, which shut
+the gate," said he. "I have opened it again, and made it fast with a
+stone. But we have no time to lose."
+
+"And how shall we know the windows of the poor children?" said Dagobert,
+anxiously.
+
+"That is true," said Agricola, with uneasiness. "What is to be done?"
+
+"To call them at hap-hazard," continued Dagobert, "would be to give the
+alarm."
+
+"Oh, heavens!" cried Agricola, with increasing anguish. "To have arrived
+here, under their windows, and yet not to know!"
+
+"Time presses," said Dagobert, hastily, interrupting his son; "we must
+run all risks."
+
+"But how, father?"
+
+"I will call out loud, 'Rose and Blanche'--in their state of despair, I
+am sure they do not sleep. They will be stirring at my first summons. By
+means of a sheet, fastened to the window, she who is on the first
+story will in five minutes be in our arms. As for the one on the ground
+floor--if her window is not grated, we can have her in a second. If it
+is, we shall soon loosen one of the bars."
+
+"But, father--this calling out aloud?"
+
+"Will not perhaps be heard."
+
+"But if it is heard--all will be lost."
+
+"Who knows? Before they have time to call the watch, and open several
+doors, the children may be delivered. Once at the entrance of the
+boulevard, and we shall be safe."
+
+"It is a dangerous course; but I see no other."
+
+"If there are only two men, I and Spoil-sport will keep them in check,
+while you will have time to carry off the children."
+
+"Father, there is a better way--a surer one," cried Agricola, suddenly.
+"From what Mother Bunch told us, Mdlle. de Cardoville has corresponded
+by signs with Rose and Blanche."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Hence she knows where they are lodged, as the poor children answered
+her from their windows."
+
+"You are right. There is only that course to take. But how find her
+room?"
+
+"Mother Bunch told me there was a shade over the window."
+
+"Quick! we have only to break through a wooden fence. Have you the iron
+bar?"
+
+"Here it is."
+
+"Then, quick!"
+
+In a few steps, Dagobert and his son had reached the paling. Three
+planks, torn away by Agricola, opened an easy passage.
+
+"Remain here, father, and keep watch," said he to Dagobert, as he
+entered Dr. Baleinier's garden.
+
+The indicated window was easily recognized. It was high and broad; a
+sort of shade surmounted it, for this window had once been a door, since
+walled in to the third of its height. It was protected by bars of iron,
+pretty far apart. Since some minutes, the rain had ceased. The moon,
+breaking through the clouds, shone full upon the building. Agricola,
+approaching the window, saw that the room was perfectly dark; but light
+came from a room beyond, through a door left half open. The smith,
+hoping that Mdlle. de Cardoville might be still awake, tapped lightly at
+the window. Soon after, the door in the background opened entirely, and
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had not yet gone to bed, came from the other
+chamber, dressed as she had been at her interview with Mother Bunch. Her
+charming features were visible by the light of the taper she held in
+her hand. Their present expression was that of surprise and anxiety. The
+young girl set down the candlestick on the table, and appeared to listen
+attentively as she approached the window. Suddenly she started and
+stopped abruptly. She had just discerned the face of a man, looking
+at her through the window. Agricola, fearing that Mdlle. de Cardoville
+would retire in terror to the next room, again tapped on the glass, and
+running the risk of being heard by others, said in a pretty loud voice:
+"It is Agricola Baudoin."
+
+These words reached the ears of Adrienne. Instantly remembering her
+interview with Mother Bunch, she thought that Agricola and Dagobert
+must have entered the convent for the purpose of carrying off Rose
+and Blanche. She ran to the window, recognized Agricola in the clear
+moonlight, and cautiously opened the casement.
+
+"Madame," said the smith, hastily; "there is not an instant to lose.
+The Count de Montbron is not in Paris. My father and myself have come to
+deliver you."
+
+"Thanks, thanks, M. Agricola!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a tone
+expressive of the most touching gratitude; "but think first of the
+daughters of General Simon."
+
+"We do think of them, madame, I have come to ask you which are their
+windows."
+
+"One is on the ground floor, the last on the garden-side; the other is
+exactly over it, on the first story."
+
+"Then they are saved!" cried the smith.
+
+"But let me see!" resumed Adrienne, hastily; "the first story is pretty
+high. You will find, near the chapel they are building, some long poles
+belonging to the scaffolding. They may be of use to you."
+
+"They will be as good as a ladder, to reach the upstairs window. But now
+to think of you madame."
+
+"Think only of the dear orphans. Time presses. Provided they are
+delivered to-night, it makes little difference to me to remain a day or
+two longer in this house."
+
+"No, mademoiselle," cried the smith, "it is of the first importance that
+you should leave this place to-night. Interests are concerned, of which
+you know nothing. I am now sure of it."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have not time to explain myself further; but I conjure you madame, to
+come. I can wrench out two of these bars; I will fetch a piece of iron."
+
+"It is not necessary. They are satisfied with locking the outer door
+of this building, which I inhabit alone. You can easily break open the
+lock."
+
+"And, in ten minutes, we shall be on the boulevard," said the smith.
+"Make yourself ready, madame; take a shawl, a bonnet, for the night is
+cold. I will return instantly."
+
+"M. Agricola," said Adrienne, with tears in her eyes, "I know what you
+risk for my sake. I shall prove to you, I hope, that I have as good a
+memory as you have. You and your adopted sister are noble and valiant
+creatures, and I am proud to be indebted to you. But do not return for
+me till the daughters of Marshal Simon are in safety."
+
+"Thanks to your directions, the thing will be done directly, madame. I
+fly to rejoin my father, and we will come together to fetch you."
+
+Following the excellent advice of Mdlle. de Cardoville, Agricola took
+one of the long, strong poles that rested against the wall of the
+chapel, and, bearing it on his robust shoulders, hastened to rejoin
+his father. Hardly had Agricola passed the fence, to direct his steps
+towards the chapel, obscured in shadow, than Mdlle. de Cardoville
+thought she perceived a human form issue from one of the clumps of trees
+in the convent-garden, cross the path hastily, and disappear behind
+a high hedge of box. Alarmed at the sight, Adrienne in vain called to
+Agricola in a low voice, to bid him beware. He could not hear her; he
+had already rejoined his father, who, devoured by impatience, went from
+window to window with ever-increasing anguish.
+
+"We are saved," whispered Agricola. "Those are the windows of the poor
+children--one on the ground floor, the other on the first story."
+
+"At last!" said Dagobert, with a burst of joy impossible to describe. He
+ran to examine the windows. "They are not grated!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Let us make sure, that one of them is there," said Agricola; "then, by
+placing this pole against the wall, I will climb up to the first story,
+which is not so very high."
+
+"Right, my boy!--once there, tap at the window, and call Rose or
+Blanche. When she answers, come down. We will rest the pole against
+the window, and the poor child will slide along it. They are bold and
+active. Quick, quick! to work!"
+
+"And then we will deliver Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+Whilst Agricola placed his pole against the wall, and prepares to mount,
+Dagobert tapped at the panes of the last window on the ground floor, and
+said aloud: "It is I--Dagobert."
+
+Rose Simon indeed occupied the chamber. The unhappy child, in despair
+at being separated from her sister, was a prey to a burning fever, and,
+unable to sleep, watered her pillow with her tears. At the sound of the
+tapping on the glass, she started up affrighted, then, hearing the voice
+of the soldier--that voice so familiar and so dear--she sat up in bed,
+pressed her hands across her forehead, to assure herself that she was
+not the plaything of a dream, and, wrapped in her long night-dress, ran
+to the window with a cry of joy. But suddenly--and before she could open
+the casement--two reports of fire-arms were heard, accompanied by loud
+cries of "Help! thieves!"
+
+The orphan stood petrified with terror, her eyes mechanically fixed upon
+the window, through which she saw confusedly, by the light of the moon,
+several men engaged in a mortal struggle, whilst the furious barking
+of Spoil-sport was heard above all the incessant cries of "Help! Help!
+Thieves! Murder!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK V.
+
+     XIV. The Eve of a Great Day XV. The Thug XVI. The Two
+     Brothers of the Good Work XVII. The House in the Rue Saint-
+     Francois XVIII. Debit and Credit XIX. The Heir XX. The
+     Rupture XXI. The Change XXII. The Red Room XXIII. The
+     Testament XXIV. The Last Stroke of Noon XXV. The Deed of
+     Gift
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE EVE OF A GREAT DAY.
+
+About two hours before the event last related took place at St. Mary's
+Convent, Rodin and Abbe d'Aigrigny met in the room where we have already
+seen them, in the Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins. Since the Revolution of
+July, Father d'Aigrigny had thought proper to remove for the moment to
+this temporary habitation all the secret archives and correspondence of
+his Order--a prudent measure, since he had every reason to fear that the
+reverend fathers would be expelled by the state from that magnificent
+establishment, with which the restoration had so liberally endowed their
+society. (11)
+
+Rodin, dressed in his usual sordid style, mean and dirty as ever, was
+writing modestly at his desk, faithful to his humble part of secretary,
+which concealed, as we have already seen a far more important
+office--that of Socius--a function which, according to the constitutions
+of the Order, consists in never quitting his superior, watching his
+least actions, spying into his very thoughts, and reporting all to Rome.
+
+In spite of his usual impassibility, Rodin appeared visibly uneasy and
+absent in mind; he answered even more briefly than usual to the commands
+and questions of Father d'Aigrigny, who had but just entered the room.
+
+"Has anything new occurred during my absence?" asked he. "Are the
+reports still favorable?"
+
+"Very favorable."
+
+"Read them to me."
+
+"Before giving this account to your reverence," said Rodin, "I must
+inform you that Morok has been two days in Paris."
+
+"Morok?" said Abbe d'Aigrigny, with surprise. "I thought, on leaving
+Germany and Switzerland, he had received from Friburg the order to
+proceed southward. At Nismes, or Avignon, he would at this moment be
+useful as an agent; for the Protestants begin to move, and we fear a
+reaction against the Catholics."
+
+"I do not know," said Rodin, "if Morok may not have had private reasons
+for changing his route. His ostensible reasons are, that he comes here
+to give performances."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"A dramatic agent, passing through Lyons, engaged him and his menagerie
+for the Port Saint-Martin Theatre at a very high price. He says that he
+did not like to refuse such an offer."
+
+"Well," said Father d'Aigrigny, shrugging his shoulders, "but by
+distributing his little books, and selling prints and chaplets, as
+well as by the influence he would certainly exercise over the pious and
+ignorant people of the South or of Brittany, he might render services,
+such as he can never perform in Paris."
+
+"He is now below, with a kind of giant, who travels about with him. In
+his capacity of your reverence's old servant, Morok hoped to have the
+honor of kissing your hand this evening."
+
+"Impossible--impossible--you know how much I am occupied. Have you sent
+to the Rue Saint-Francois?"
+
+"Yes, I have. The old Jew guardian has had notice from the notary. To
+morrow, at six in the morning, the masons will unwall the door, and,
+for the first time since one hundred and fifty years, the house will be
+opened."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny remained in thought for a moment, and then said to
+Rodin: "On the eve of such a decisive day, we must neglect nothing,
+and call every circumstance to memory. Read me the copy of the note,
+inserted in the archives of the society, a century and a half ago, on
+the subject of Rennepont."
+
+The secretary took the note from the case, and read as follows:
+
+"'This 19th day of February, 1682, the Reverend Father-Provincial
+Alexander Bourdon sent the following advice, with these words in the
+margin: Of extreme importance for the future.
+
+"'We have just discovered, by the confession of a dying person to one of
+our fathers, a very close secret.
+
+"'Marius de Rennepont, one of the most active and redoubtable partisans
+of the Reformed Religion, and one of the most determined enemies of our
+Holy Society, had apparently re-entered the pale of our Mother Church,
+but with the sole design of saving his worldly goods, threatened with
+confiscation because of his irreligious and damnable errors. Evidence
+having been furnished by different persons of our company to prove that
+the conversion of Rennepont was not sincere, and in reality covered a
+sacrilegious lure, the possessions of the said gentleman, now considered
+a relapsed heretic, were confiscated by our gracious sovereign, his
+Majesty King Louis XIV, and the said Rennepont was condemned to the
+galleys for life.(12) He escaped his doom by a voluntary death; in
+consequence of which abominable crime, his body was dragged upon a
+hurdle, and flung to the dogs on the highway.
+
+"'From these preliminaries, we come to the great secret, which is of
+such importance to the future interests of our Society.
+
+"'His Majesty Louis XIV., in his paternal and Catholic goodness towards
+the Church in general, and our Order in particular, had granted to us
+the profit of this confiscation, in acknowledgment of our services in
+discovering the infamous and sacrilegious relapse of the said Rennepont.
+
+"'But we have just learned, for certain, that a house situated in Paris,
+No. 3, Rue Saint-Francois, and a sum of fifty thousand gold crowns, have
+escaped this confiscation, and have consequently been stolen from our
+Society.
+
+"'The house was conveyed, before the confiscation, by means of a feigned
+purchase, to a friend of Rennepont's a good Catholic, unfortunately, as
+against him we cannot take any severe measures. Thanks to the culpable,
+but secure connivance of his friend, the house has been walled up, and
+is only to be opened in a century and a half, according to the last
+will of Rennepont. As for the fifty thousand gold crowns, they have been
+placed in hands which, unfortunately, are hitherto unknown to us, in
+order to be invested and put out to use for one hundred and fifty years,
+at the expiration of which time they are to be divided between the then
+existing descendants of the said Rennepont; and it is calculated that
+this sum, increased by so many accumulations, will by then have become
+enormous, and will amount to at least forty or fifty millions of livres
+tournois. From motives which are not known, but which are duly stated
+in a testamentary document, the said Rennepont has concealed from his
+family, whom the edicts against the Protestants have driven out of
+France, the investment of these fifty thousand crowns; and has only
+desired his relations to preserve in their line from generation to
+generation, the charge to the last survivors, to meet in Paris, Rue
+Saint-Francois, a hundred and fifty years hence, on February the 13th,
+1832. And that this charge might not be forgotten, he employed a person,
+whose description is known, but not his real occupation, to cause to
+be manufactured sundry bronze medals, on which the request and date are
+engraved, and to deliver one to each member of the family--a measure the
+more necessary, as, from some other motive equally unknown, but probably
+explained in the testament, the heirs are to present themselves on the
+day in question, before noon, in person, and not by any attorney, or
+representative, or to forfeit all claim to the inheritance. The stranger
+who undertook to distribute the medals to the different members of the
+family of Rennepont is a man of thirty to thirty-six years of age, of
+tall stature, and with a proud and sad expression of countenance. He has
+black eyebrows, very thick, and singularly joined together. He is
+known as JOSEPH, and is much suspected of being an active and dangerous
+emissary of the wretched republicans and heretics of the Seven
+United Provinces. It results from these premises, that this sum,
+surreptitiously confided by a relapsed heretic to unknown hands, has
+escaped the confiscation decreed in our favor by our well-beloved king.
+A serious fraud and injury has therefore been committed, and we are
+bound to take every means to recover this our right, if not immediately,
+at least in some future time. Our Society being (for the greater glory
+of God and our Holy Father) imperishable, it will be easy, thanks to the
+connections we keep up with all parts of the world, by means of missions
+and other establishments, to follow the line of this family of Rennepont
+from generation to generation, without ever losing sight of it--so that
+a hundred and fifty years hence, at the moment of the division of this
+immense accumulation of property, our Company may claim the inheritance
+of which it has been so treacherously deprived, and recover it by
+any means in its power, fas aut nefas, even by craft or violence--our
+Company not being bound to act tenderly with the future detainers of
+our goods, of which we have been maliciously deprived by an infamous and
+sacrilegious heretic--and because it is right to defend, preserve,
+and recover one's own property by every means which the Lord may place
+within one's reach. Until, therefore, the complete restitution of this
+wealth, the family of Rennepont must be considered as reprobate and
+damnable, as the cursed seed of a Cain, and always to be watched with
+the utmost caution. And it is to be recommended, that, every year
+from this present date, a sort of inquisition should be held as to the
+situation of the successive members of this family.'"
+
+Rodin paused, and said to Father d'Aigrigny: "Here follows the account,
+year by year, of the history of this family, from the year 1682, to our
+own day. It will be useless to read this to your reverence."
+
+"Quite useless," said Abbe d'Aigrigny. "The note contains all the
+important facts." Then, after a moment's silence, he exclaimed, with
+an expression of triumphant pride: "How great is the power of the
+Association, when founded upon tradition and perpetuity! Thanks to this
+note, inserted in our archives a century and a half ago, this family has
+been watched from generation to generation--our Order has always had
+its eyes upon them, following them to all points of the globe, to which
+exile had distributed them--and at last, to-morrow, we shall obtain
+possession of this property, at first inconsiderable, but which a
+hundred and fifty years have raised to a royal fortune. Yes, we shall
+succeed, for we have foreseen every eventuality. One thing only troubles
+me."
+
+"What is that?" asked Rodin.
+
+"The information that we have in vain tried to obtain from the guardian
+of the house in the Rue Saint-Francois. Has the attempt been once more
+made, as I directed?"
+
+"It has been made."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"This time, as always before, the old Jew has remained impenetrable.
+Besides he is almost in his second childhood, and his wife not much
+better."
+
+"When I think," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "that for a century and a
+half, this house in the Rue Saint-Francois has remained walled up, and
+that the care of it has been transmitted from generation to generation
+in this family of the Samuels--I cannot suppose that they have all been
+ignorant as to who were and are the successive holders of these funds,
+now become immense by accumulation."
+
+"You have seen," said Rodin, "by the notes upon this affair, that the
+Order has always carefully followed it up ever since 1682. At different
+periods attempts have been made to obtain information upon subjects
+not fully explained in the note of Father Bourdon. But this race of Jew
+guardians has ever remained dumb, and we must therefore conclude that
+they know nothing about it."
+
+"That has always struck me as impossible; for the ancestor of these
+Samuels was present at the closing of the house, a hundred and fifty
+years ago. He was according to the file, a servant or confidential clerk
+of De Rennepont. It is impossible that he should not have known many
+things, the tradition of which must have been preserved in the family."
+
+"If I were allowed to hazard a brief observation," began Rodin, humbly.
+
+"Speak."
+
+"A few years ago we obtained certain information through the
+confessional, that the funds were in existence, and that they had risen
+to an enormous amount."
+
+"Doubtless; and it was that which called the attention of the Reverend
+Father-General so strongly to this affair."
+
+"We know, then, what probably the descendants of the family do not--the
+immense value of this inheritance?"
+
+"Yes," answered Father d'Aigrigny, "the person who certified this fact
+in confession is worthy of all belief. Only lately, the same declaration
+was renewed; but all the efforts of the confessor could not obtain the
+name of the trustee, or anything beyond the assertion, that the money
+could not be in more honest hands."
+
+"It seems to me, then," resumed Rodin, "that we are certain of what is
+most important."
+
+"And who knows if the holder of this enormous sum will appear to-morrow,
+in spite of the honesty ascribed to him? The nearer the moment the more
+my anxiety increases. Ah!" continued Father d'Aigrigny, after a moment's
+silence, "the interests concerned are so immense that the consequences
+of success are quite incalculable. However, all that it was possible to
+do, has been at least tried."
+
+To these words, which Father d'Aigrigny addressed to Rodin, as if asking
+for his assent, the socius returned no answer.
+
+The abbe looked at him with surprise, and said: "Are you not of my
+opinion--could more have been attempted? Have we not gone to the extreme
+limit of the possible?"
+
+Rodin bowed respectfully, but remained mute.
+
+"If you think we have omitted some precaution," cried Father d'Aigrigny,
+with a sort of uneasy impatience, "speak out! We have still time. Once
+more, do you think it is possible to do more than I have done? All the
+other descendants being removed, when Gabriel appears to-morrow in
+the Rue Saint-Francois, will he not be the only representative of this
+family, and consequently the rightful possessor of this immense fortune?
+Now, according to his act of renunciation, and the provisions of our
+statutes, it is not to him, but to the Order, that these possessions
+must fall. Could I have acted better, or in any other manner? Speak
+frankly!"
+
+"I cannot permit myself to offer an opinion on this subject," replied
+Rodin, humbly, and again bowing; "the success of the measures taken must
+answer your reverence."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny shrugged his shoulders, and reproached himself for
+having asked advice of this writing-machine, that served him for
+a secretary, and to whom he only ascribed three qualities--memory,
+discretion, and exactness.
+
+(11) This was an idle fear, for we read in the Constitutionnel, Feb. 1st
+1832, as follows: "When in 1822, M. de Corbiere abruptly abolished that
+splendid Normal School, which, during its few years' existence, had
+called forth or developed such a variety of talent, it was decided,
+as some compensation, that a house in the Rue des Postes should be
+purchased, where the congregation of the Holy Ghost should be located
+and endowed. The Minister of Marine supplied the funds for this purpose,
+and its management was placed at the disposal of the Society, which then
+reigned over France. From that period it has held quiet possession of
+the place, which at once became a sort of house of entertainment, where
+Jesuitism sheltered, and provided for, the numerous novitiates that
+flocked from all parts of the country, to receive instructions from
+Father Ronsin. Matters were in this state when the Revolution of
+July broke out, which threatened to deprive the Society of this
+establishment. But it will hardly be believed; this was not done. It
+is true that they suppressed their practice, but they left them in
+possession of the house in the Rue des Postes; and to this very day, the
+31st of January, 1832, the members of the Sacred Heart are housed at the
+expense of government, during the whole of which time the Normal School
+has been without a shelter--and on its reorganization, thrust into a
+dirty hole, in a narrow corner of the College of Louis the Great."
+
+The above appeared in the Constitutionnel, respecting the house in
+the Rue des Posses. We are certainly ignorant as to the nature of the
+transactions, since that period, that have taken place between the
+reverend fathers and the government; but we read further, in a recently
+published article that appeared in a journal, in reference to the
+Society of Jesus, that the house in the Rue des Postes, still forms a
+part of their landed property. We will here give some portions of the
+article in question.
+
+"The following is a list of the property belonging to this branch of
+
+  Jesuits:                                       Fr.
+     House in the Rue de Postes, worth about 500,000
+     One in the Rue de Sevres, estimated at  300,000
+     Farm, two leagues from Paris.....150,000
+     House and church at Bourges..... 100,000
+     Notre Dame de Liesse, donation in 1843   60,000
+     Saint Acheul, House for Novitiates..  400,000
+     Nantes, a house...........100,000
+     Quimper, ditto...........  40,000
+     Laval, house and church......  150,000
+     Rennes, a house..........  20,000
+     Vannes, ditto...........  20,000
+     Metz, ditto............  40,000
+     Strasbourg............   60,000
+     Rouen, ditto...........   15,000
+
+"By this it appears that these various items amount to little less than
+two millions. Teaching, moreover, is another important source of revenue
+to the Jesuits. The college at Broyclette alone brings in 200,000
+francs. The two provinces in France (for the general of the Jesuits at
+Rome has divided France into two provinces, Lyons and Paris) possess,
+besides a large sum in ready money, Austrian bonds of more than 260,000
+francs. Their Propagation of Faith furnishes annually some 50,000
+francs; and the harvest which the priests collect by their sermons
+amounts to 150,000 francs. The alms given for charity may be estimated
+at the same figure, producing together a revenue of 540,000 francs. Now,
+to this revenue may be added the produce of the sale of the Society's
+works, and the profit obtained by hawking pictures. Each plate costs,
+design and engraving included, about 600 francs, off which are struck
+about 10,000 copies, at 40 francs per thousand, and there is a further
+expense of 250 francs to their publisher; and they obtain a net profit
+of 210 francs on every thousand. This, indeed, is working to advantage.
+And it can easily be imagined with what rapidity all these are sold. The
+fathers themselves are the travellers for the Society, and it would be
+difficult to find more zealous or persevering ones. They are always well
+received, and do not know what it is to meet with a refusal. They always
+take care that the publisher should be one of their own body. The first
+person whom they selected for this occupation was one of their members,
+possessing some money; but they were obliged, notwithstanding, to make
+certain advances to enable him to defray the expenses of its first
+establishment. But, when they became fully convinced of the success of
+their undertaking, they suddenly called in these advances, which the
+publisher was not in a condition to pay. They were perfectly aware of
+this, and superseded him by a wealthy successor, with whom they could
+make a better bargain; and thus, without remorse, they ruined the
+man, by thrusting him from an appointment of which they had morally
+guaranteed the continuance."
+
+(12) Louis XIV., the great King, punished with the Galleys those
+Protestants who, once converted, often by force, afterwards returned
+to their first belief. As for those Protestants who remained in France,
+notwithstanding the rigor of the edicts against them, they were deprived
+of burial, dragged upon a hurdle, and given to the dogs.--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. THE THUG.
+
+After a moment's silence, Father d'Aigrigny resumed "Read me to-day's
+report on the situation of each of the persons designated."
+
+"Here is that of this evening; it has just come."
+
+"Let us hear."
+
+Rodin read as follows: "Jacques Rennepont, alias Sleepinbuff, was seen
+in the interior of the debtors' prison at eight o'clock this evening."
+
+"He will not disturb us to-morrow. One; go on."
+
+"The lady superior of St. Mary's Convent, warned by the Princess
+de Saint-Dizier, has thought fit to confine still more strictly the
+Demoiselles Rose and Blanche Simon. This evening, at nine o'clock, they
+have been carefully locked in their cells, and armed men will make their
+round in the convent garden during the night."
+
+"Thanks to these precautions, there is nothing to fear from that side,"
+said Father d'Aigrigny. "Go on."
+
+"Dr. Baleinier, also warned by the Princess de Saint-Dizier, continues
+to have Mdlle. de Cardoville very closely watched. At a quarter to nine
+the door of the building in which she is lodged was locked and bolted."
+
+"That is still another cause the less for uneasiness."
+
+"As for M. Hardy," resumed Rodin "I have received this morning, from
+Toulouse, a letter from his intimate friend, M. de Bressac, who has been
+of such service to us in keeping the manufacturer away for some
+days longer. This letter contains a note, addressed by M. Hardy to a
+confidential person, which M. de Bressac has thought fit to intercept,
+and send to us as another proof of the success of the steps he has
+taken, and for which he hopes we shall give him credit--as to serve us,
+he adds, he betrays his friend in the most shameful manner, and acts a
+part in an odious comedy. M. de Bressac trusts that, in return for these
+good offices, we will deliver up to him those papers, which place him
+in our absolute dependence, as they might ruin for ever a woman he loves
+with an adulterous passion. He says that we ought to have pity on the
+horrible alternative in which he is placed--either to dishonor and ruin
+the woman he adores, or infamously to betray the confidence of his bosom
+friend."
+
+"These adulterous lamentations are not deserving of pity," answered
+Father d'Aigrigny, with contempt. "We will see about that; M. de Bressac
+may still be useful to us. But let us hear this letter of M. Hardy, that
+impious and republican manufacturer, worthy descendant of an accursed
+race, whom it is of the first importance to keep away."
+
+"Here is M. Hardy's letter," resumed Rodin. "To-morrow, we will send it
+to the person to whom it is addressed." Rodin read as follows:
+
+"TOULOUSE, February the 10th.
+
+"At length I find a moment to write to you, and to explain the cause
+of the sudden departure which, without alarming, must at least have
+astonished you. I write also to ask you a service; the facts may be
+stated in a few words. I have often spoken to you of Felix de Bressac,
+one of my boyhood mates, though not nearly so old as myself. We have
+always loved each other tenderly, and have shown too many proofs of
+mutual affection not to count upon one another. He is a brother to me.
+You know all I mean by that expression. Well--a few days ago, he wrote
+to me from Toulouse, where he was to spend some time: 'If you love me,
+come; I have the greatest need of you. At once! Your consolations
+may perhaps give me the courage to live. If you arrive too late--why,
+forgive me--and think sometimes of him who will be yours to the last.'
+Judge of my grief and fear on receipt of the above. I seat instantly
+for post-horses. My old foreman, whom I esteem and revere (the father of
+General Simon), hearing that I was going to the south, begged me to take
+him with me, and to leave him for some days in the department of the
+Creuse, to examine some ironworks recently founded there. I consented
+willingly to this proposition, as I should thus at least have some one
+to whom I could pour out the grief and anxiety which had been caused
+by this letter from Bressac. I arrive at Toulouse; they tell me that
+he left the evening before, taking arms with him, a prey to the most
+violent despair. It was impossible at first to tell whither he had gone;
+after two days, some indications, collected with great trouble, put me
+upon his track. At last, after a thousand adventures, I found him in a
+miserable village. Never--no, never, have I seen despair like this.
+No violence, but a dreadful dejection, a savage silence. At first, he
+almost repulsed me; then, this horrible agony having reached its height,
+he softened by degrees, and, in about a quarter of an hour, threw
+himself into my arms, bathed in tears. Beside him were his loaded
+pistols: one day later, and all would have been over. I cannot tell you
+the reason of his despair; I am not at liberty to do so; but it did not
+greatly astonish me. Now there is a complete cure to effect. We must
+calm, and soothe, and heal this poor soul, which has been cruelly
+wounded. The hand of friendship is alone equal to this delicate task,
+and I have good hope of success. I have therefore persuaded him to
+travel for some time; movement and change of scene will be favorable to
+him. I shall take him first to Nice; we set out tomorrow. If he wishes
+to prolong this excursion. I shall do so too, for my affairs do not
+imperiously demand my presence in Paris before the end of March. As
+for the service I have to ask of you, it is conditional. These are the
+facts. According to some family papers that belonged to my mother,
+it seems I have a certain interest to present myself at No. 3, Rue
+Saint-Francois, in Paris, on the 13th of February. I had inquired about
+it, and could learn nothing, except that this house of very antique
+appearance, has been shut up for the last hundred and fifty years,
+through a whim of one of my maternal ancestors, and that it is to be
+opened on the 13th of this month, in presence of the co-heirs who, if
+I have any, are quite unknown to me. Not being able to attend myself, I
+have written to my foreman, the father of General Simon, in whom I have
+the greatest confidence, and whom I had left behind in the department
+of the Creuse, to set out for Paris, and to be present at the opening
+of this house, not as an agent (which would be useless), but as a
+spectator, and inform me at Nice what has been the result of this
+romantic notion of my ancestor's. As it is possible that my foreman may
+arrive too late to accomplish this mission, I should be much obliged
+if you would inquire at my house at Plessy, if he has yet come, and,
+in case of his still being absent, if you would take his place at the
+opening of the house in the Rue Saint-Francois. I believe that I have
+made a very small sacrifice for my friend Bressac, in not being in Paris
+on that day. But had the sacrifice been immense, I should have made it
+with pleasure, for my care and friendship are at present most necessary
+to the man whom I look upon as a brother. I count upon your compliance
+with my request, and, begging you to be kind enough to write me, 'to
+be called for,' at Nice, the result of your visit of inquiry, I remain,
+etc., etc.
+
+"FRANCIS HARDY."
+
+"Though his presence cannot be of any great importance, it would be
+preferable that Marshal Simon's father should not attend at the opening
+of this house to-morrow," said Father d'Aigrigny. "But no matter. M.
+Hardy himself is out of the way. There only remains the young Indian."
+
+"As for him," continued the abbe, with a thoughtful air, "we acted
+wisely in letting M. Norval set out with the presents of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. The doctor who accompanies M. Norval, and who was chosen by
+M. Baleinier, will inspire no suspicion?"
+
+"None," answered Rodin. "His letter of yesterday is completely
+satisfactory."
+
+"There is nothing, then, to fear from the Indian prince," said
+D'Aigrigny. "All goes well."
+
+"As for Gabriel," resumed Rodin, "he has again written this morning, to
+obtain from your reverence the interview that he has vainly solicited
+for the last three days. He is affected by the rigor exercised towards
+him, in forbidding him to leave the house for these five days past."
+
+"To-morrow, when we take him to the Rue Saint-Francois, I will hear what
+he has to say. It will be time enough. Thus, at this hour," said Father
+d'Aigrigny, with an air of triumphant satisfaction, "all the descendants
+of this family, whose presence might ruin our projects, are so
+placed that it is absolutely impossible for them to be at the Rue
+Saint-Francois to-morrow before noon, while Gabriel will be sure to be
+there. At last our end is gained."
+
+Two cautious knocks at the door interrupted Father d'Aigrigny. "Come
+in," said he.
+
+An old servant in black presented himself, and said: "There is a man
+downstairs who wishes to speak instantly to M. Rodin on very urgent
+business."
+
+"His name?" asked Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"He would not tell his name; but he says that he comes from M. Van Dael,
+a merchant in Java."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin exchanged a glance of surprise, almost of
+alarm.
+
+"See what this man is," said D'Aigrigny to Rodin, unable to conceal
+his uneasiness, "and then come and give me an account of it." Then,
+addressing the servant, he added: "Show him in"--and exchanging
+another expressive sign with Rodin, Father d'Aigrigny disappeared by a
+side-door.
+
+A minute after, Faringhea, the ex-chief of the Stranglers, appeared
+before Rodin, who instantly remembered having seen him at Cardoville
+Castle.
+
+The socius started, but he did not wish to appear to recollect his
+visitor. Still bending over his desk, he seemed not to seen Faringhea,
+but wrote hastily some words on a sheet of paper that lay before him.
+
+"Sir," said the servant, astonished at the silence of Rodin, "here is
+the person."
+
+Rodin folded the note that he had so precipitately written, and said to
+the servant: "Let this be taken to its address. Wait for an answer."
+
+The servant bowed, and went out. Then Rodin, without rising, fixed his
+little reptile-eyes on Faringhea, and said to him courteously: "To whom,
+sir, have I the honor of speaking?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE TWO BROTHERS OF THE GOOD WORK.
+
+Faringhea, as we have before stated, though born in India, had travelled
+a good deal, and frequented the European factories in different parts
+of Asia. Speaking well both English and French, and full of intelligence
+and sagacity, he was perfectly civilized.
+
+Instead of answering Rodin's question, he turned upon him a fixed and
+searching look. The socius, provoked by this silence, and forseeing
+vaguely that Faringhea's arrival had some connection--direct or
+indirect--with Djalma, repeated, though still with the greatest
+coolness: "To whom, sir, have I the honor of speaking?"
+
+"Do you not recognize me," said Faringhea, advancing two steps nearer to
+Rodin's chair.
+
+"I do not think I have ever had the honor of seeing you," answered the
+other, coldly.
+
+"But I recognize you," said Faringhea; "I saw you at Cardoville Castle
+the day that a ship and a steamer were wrecked together."
+
+"At Cardoville Castle? It is very possible, sir. I was there when a
+shipwreck took place."
+
+"And that day I called you by your name, and you asked me what I
+wanted. I replied: 'Nothing now, brother--hereafter, much.' The time has
+arrived. I have come to ask for much."
+
+"My dear sir," said Rodin, still impassible, "before we continue this
+conversation, which appears hitherto tolerably obscure, I must repeat my
+wish to be informed to whom I have the advantage of speaking. You have
+introduced yourself here under pretext of a commission from Mynheer
+Joshua Van Dael, a respectable merchant of Batavia, and--"
+
+"You know the writing of M. Van Dael?" said Faringhea, interrupting
+Rodin.
+
+"I know it perfectly."
+
+"Look!" The half-caste drew from his pocket (he was shabbily dressed in
+European clothes) a long dispatch, which he had taken from one Mahal the
+Smuggler, after strangling him on the beach near Batavia. These papers
+he placed before Rodin's eyes, but without quitting his hold of them.
+
+"It is, indeed, M. Van Dael's writing," said Rodin, and he stretched
+out his hard towards the letter, which Faringhea quickly and prudently
+returned to his pocket.
+
+"Allow me to observe, my dear sir, that you have a singular manner of
+executing a commission," said Rodin. "This letter, being to my address,
+and having been entrusted to you by M. Van Dael, you ought--"
+
+"This letter was not entrusted to me by M. Van Dael," said Faringhea,
+interrupting Rodin.
+
+"How, then, is it in your possession?"
+
+"A Javanese smuggler betrayed me. Van Dael had secured a passage to
+Alexandria for this man, and had given him this letter to carry with him
+for the European mail. I strangled the smuggler, took the letter, made
+the passage--and here I am."
+
+The Thug had pronounced these words with an air of savage boasting; his
+wild, intrepid glance did not quail before the piercing look of Rodin,
+who, at this strange confession, had hastily raised his head to observe
+the speaker.
+
+Faringhea thought to astonish or intimidate Rodin by these ferocious
+words; but, to his great surprise, the socius, impassible as a corpse,
+said to him, quite simply: "Oh! they strangle people in Java?"
+
+"Yes, there and elsewhere," answered Faringhea, with a bitter smile.
+
+"I would prefer to disbelieve you; but I am surprised at your sincerity
+M.--, what is your name?"
+
+"Faringhea."
+
+"Well, then, M. Faringhea, what do you wish to come to? You have
+obtained by an abominable crime, a letter addressed to me, and now you
+hesitate to deliver it."
+
+"Because I have read it, and it may be useful to me."
+
+"Oh! you have read it?" said Rodin, disconcerted for a moment. Then he
+resumed: "It is true, that judging by your mode of possessing yourself
+of other people's correspondence, we cannot expect any great amount of
+honesty on your part. And pray what have you found so useful to you in
+this letter?"
+
+"I have found, brother, that you are, like myself, a son of the Good
+Work."
+
+"Of what good work do you speak" asked Rodin not a little surprised.
+
+Faringhea replied with an expression of bitter irony. "Joshua says to
+you in his letter--'Obedience and courage, secrecy and patience, craft
+and audacity, union between us, who have the world for our country, the
+brethren for our family, Rome for our queen.'"
+
+"It is possible that M. Van Dael has written thus to me Pray, sir, what
+do you conclude from it?"
+
+"We, too, have the world for our country, brother, our accomplices for
+our family, and for our queen Bowanee."
+
+"I do not know that saint," said Rodin, humbly.
+
+"It is our Rome," answered the Strangler. "Van Dael speaks to you of
+those of your Order, who, scattered over all the earth, labor for
+the glory of Rome, your queen. Those of our band labor also in divers
+countries, for the glory of Bowanee."
+
+"And who are these sons of Bowanee, M. Faringhea?"
+
+"Men of resolution, audacious, patient, crafty, obstinate, who, to make
+the Good Work succeed, would sacrifice country and parents, and sister
+and brother, and who regard as enemies all not of their band!"
+
+"There seems to be much that is good in the persevering and exclusively
+religious spirit of such an order," said Rodin, with a modest and
+sanctified air; "only, one must know your ends and objects."
+
+"The same as your own, brother--we make corpses."(13)
+
+"Corpses!" cried Rodin.
+
+"In this letter," resumed Faringhea, "Van Dael tells you that the
+greatest glory of your Order is to make 'a corpse of man.' Our work also
+is to make corpses of men. Man's death is sweet to Bowanee."
+
+"But sir," cried Rodin, "M. Van Dael speaks of the soul, of the will, of
+the mind, which are to be brought down by discipline."
+
+"It is true--you kill the soul, and we the body. Give me your hand,
+brother, for you also are hunters of men."
+
+"But once more, sir,--understand, that we only meddle with the will, the
+mind," said Rodin.
+
+"And what are bodies deprived of soul, will, thought, but mere corpses?
+Come--come, brother; the dead we make by the cord are not more icy and
+inanimate than those you make by your discipline. Take my hand, brother;
+Rome and Bowanee are sisters."
+
+Notwithstanding his apparent calmness, Rodin could not behold, without
+some secret alarm, a wretch like Faringhea in possession of a long
+letter from Van Dael, wherein mention must necessarily have been made of
+Djalma. Rodin believed, indeed, that he had rendered it impossible for
+the young Indian to be at Paris on the morrow, but not knowing what
+connection might have been formed, since the shipwreck, between the
+prince and the half-caste, he looked upon Faringhea as a man who might
+probably be very dangerous. But the more uneasy the socius felt in
+himself, the more he affected to appear calm and disdainful. He replied,
+therefore: "This comparison between Rome and Bowanee is no doubt very
+amusing; but what, sir, do you deduce from it?"
+
+"I wish to show you, brother, what I am, and of what I am capable, to
+convince you that it is better to have me for a friend than an enemy."
+
+"In other terms, sir," said Rodin, with contemptuous irony, "you belong
+to a murderous sect in India, and, you wish, by a transparent allegory,
+to lead me to reflect on the fate of the man from whom you have stolen
+the letter addressed to me. In my turn, I will take the freedom just
+to observe to you, in all humility, M. Faringhea, that here it is not
+permitted to strangle anybody, and that if you were to think fit to make
+any corpses for the love of Bowanee, your goddess, we should make you a
+head shorter, for the love of another divinity commonly called justice."
+
+"And what would they do to me, if I tried to poison any one?"
+
+"I will again humbly observe to you, M. Faringhea, that I have no time
+to give you a course of criminal jurisprudence; but, believe me, you
+had better resist the temptation to strangle or poison any one. One word
+more: will you deliver up to me the letters of M. Van Dael, or not?"
+
+"The letters relative to Prince Djalma?" said the half-caste, looking
+fixedly at Rodin, who, notwithstanding a sharp and sudden twinge,
+remained impenetrable, and answered with the utmost simplicity: "Not
+knowing what the letters which you, sir, are pleased to keep from me,
+may contain, it is impossible for me to answer your question. I beg, and
+if necessary, I demand, that you will hand me those letters--or that you
+will retire."
+
+"In a few minutes, brother, you will entreat me to remain."
+
+"I doubt it."
+
+"A few words will operate--this miracle. If just now I spoke to you
+about poisoning, brother, it was because you sent a doctor to Cardoville
+Castle, to poison (at least for a time) Prince Djalma."
+
+In spite of himself, Rodin started almost imperceptibly, as he replied:
+"I do not understand you."
+
+"It is true, that I am a poor foreigner, and doubtless speak with an
+accent; I will try and explain myself better. I know, by Van Dael's
+letters, the interest you have that Prince Djalma should not be here to
+morrow, and all that you have done with this view. Do you understand me
+now?"
+
+"I have no answer for you."
+
+Two cautious taps at the door here interrupted the conversation. "Come
+in," said Rodin.
+
+"The letter has been taken to its address, sir," said the old servant,
+bowing, "and here is the answer."
+
+Rodin took the paper, and, before he opened it, said courteously to
+Faringhea: "With your permission, sir?"
+
+"Make no ceremonies," said the half-caste.
+
+"You are very kind," replied Rodin, as, having read the letter he
+received, he wrote hastily some words at the bottom, saying: "Send this
+back to the same address."
+
+The servant bowed respectfully, and withdrew.
+
+"Now can I continue"' asked the half-caste, of Rodin.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"I will continue, then," resumed Faringhea:
+
+"The day before yesterday, just as the prince, all wounded as he
+was, was about, by my advice, to take his departure for Paris, a fine
+carriage arrived, with superb presents for Djalma, from an unknown
+friend. In this carriage were two men--one sent by the unknown
+friend--the other a doctor, sent by you to attend upon Djalma, and
+accompany him to Paris. It was a charitable act, brother--was it not
+so?"
+
+"Go on with your story, sir."
+
+"Djalma set out yesterday. By declaring that the prince's wound would
+grow seriously worse, if he did not lie down in the carriage during all
+the journey, the doctor got rid of the envoy of the unknown friend, who
+went away by himself. The doctor wished to get rid of me too; but Djalma
+so strongly insisted upon it, that I accompanied the prince and doctor.
+Yesterday evening, we had come about half the distance. The doctor
+proposed we should pass the night at an inn. 'We have plenty of time,'
+said he, 'to reach Paris by to-morrow evening'--the prince having told
+him, that he must absolutely be in Paris by the evening of the 12th. The
+doctor had been very pressing to set out alone with the prince. I knew
+by Van Dael's letter, that it was of great importance to you for Djalma
+not to be here on the 13th; I had my suspicions, and I asked the
+doctor if he knew you; he answered with an embarrassed air, and then my
+suspicion became certainty. When we reached the inn, whilst the doctor
+was occupied with Djalma, I went up to the room of the former, and
+examined a box full of phials that he had brought with him. One of them
+contained opium--and then I guessed--"
+
+"What did you guess, sir?"
+
+"You shall know. The doctor said to Djalma, before he left him: 'Your
+wound is doing well, but the fatigue of the journey might bring on
+inflammation; it will be good for you, in the course of to-morrow, to
+take a soothing potion, that I will make ready this evening, to have
+with us in the carriage.' The doctor's plan was a simple one," added
+Faringhea; "to-day the prince was to take the potion at four or five
+o'clock in the afternoon--and fall into a deep sleep--the doctor to grow
+uneasy, and stop the carriage--to declare that it would be dangerous to
+continue the journey--to pass the night at an inn, and keep close watch
+over the prince, whose stupor was only, to cease when it suited your
+purposes. That was your design--it was cleverly planned--I chose to make
+use of it myself, and I have succeeded."
+
+"All that you are talking about, my dear sir," said Rodin, biting his
+nails, "is pure Hebrew to me."
+
+"No doubt, because of my accent. But tell me, have you heard speak of
+array--mow?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Your loss! It is an admirable production of the Island of Java, so
+fertile in poisons."
+
+"What is that to me?" said Rodin, in a sharp voice, but hardly able to
+dissemble his growing anxiety.
+
+"It concerns you nearly. We sons of Bowanee have a horror of shedding
+blood," resumed Faringhea; "to pass the cord round the neck of our
+victims, we wait till they are asleep. When their sleep is not deep
+enough, we know how to make it deeper. We are skillful at our work; the
+serpent is not more cunning, or the lion more valiant, Djalma himself
+bears our mark. The array-mow is an impalpable powder, and, by letting
+the sleeper inhale a few grains of it, or by mixing it with the tobacco
+to be smoked by a waking man, we can throw our victim into a stupor,
+from which nothing will rouse him. If we fear to administer too strong a
+dose at once, we let the sleeper inhale a little at different times, and
+we can thus prolong the trance at pleasure, and without any danger,
+as long as a man does not require meat and drink--say, thirty or
+forty hours. You see, that opium is mere trash compared to this divine
+narcotic. I had brought some of this with me from Java--as a mere
+curiosity, you know--without forgetting the counter poison."
+
+"Oh! there is a counter-poison, then?" said Rodin, mechanically.
+
+"Just as there are people quite contrary to what we are, brother of
+the good work. The Javanese call the juice of this root tooboe; it
+dissipates the stupor caused by the array-mow, as the sun disperses the
+clouds. Now, yesterday evening, being certain of the projects of your
+emissary against Djalma, I waited till the doctor was in bed and
+asleep. I crept into his room, and made him inhale such a dose of
+array-mow--that he is probably sleeping still."
+
+"Miscreant!" cried Rodin, more and more alarmed by this narrative, for
+Faringhea had dealt a terrible blow at the machinations of the socius
+and his friends. "You risk poisoning the doctor."
+
+"Yes, brother; just as he ran the risk of poisoning Djalma. This morning
+we set out, leaving your doctor at the inn, plunged in a deep sleep.
+I was alone in the carriage with Djalma. He smoked like a true Indian;
+some grains of array-mow, mixed with the tobacco in his long pipe, first
+made him drowsy; a second dose, that he inhaled, sent him to sleep; and
+so I left him at the inn where we stopped. Now, brother, it depends
+upon me, to leave Djalma in his trance, which will last till to-morrow
+evening or to rouse him from it on the instant. Exactly as you
+comply with my demands or not, Djalma will or will not be in the Rue
+Saint-Francois to morrow."
+
+So saying, Faringhea drew from his pocket the medal belonging to Djalma,
+and observed, as he showed it to Rodin: "You see that I tell you
+the truth. During Djalma's sleep, took from him this medal, the only
+indication he has of the place where he ought to be to-morrow. I finish,
+then as I began: Brother, I have come to ask you for a great deal."
+
+For some minutes, Rodin had been biting his nails to the quick, as was
+his custom when seized with a fit of dumb and concentrated rage. Just
+then, the bell of the porter's lodge rang three times in a particular
+manner. Rodin did not appear to notice it, and yet a sudden light
+sparkled in his small reptile eyes; while Faringhea, with his arms
+folded, looked at him with an expression of triumph and disdainful
+superiority. The socius bent down his head, remained silent for some
+seconds, took mechanically a pen from his desk, and began to gnaw the
+feather, as if in deep reflection upon what Faringhea had just said.
+Then, throwing down the pen upon the desk, he turned suddenly towards
+the half-caste, and addressed him with an air of profound contempt "Now,
+really, M. Faringhea--do you think to make game of us with your cock-and
+bull stories?"
+
+Amazed, in spite of his audacity, the half-caste recoiled a step.
+
+"What, sir!" resumed Rodin. "You come here into a respectable house,
+to boast that you have stolen letters, strangled this man, drugged that
+other?--Why, sir, it is downright madness. I wished to hear you to the
+end, to see to what extent you would carry your audacity--for none but a
+monstrous rascal would venture to plume himself on such infamous crimes.
+But I prefer believing, that they exist only in your imagination."
+
+As he barked out these words, with a degree of animation not usual
+in him, Rodin rose from his seat, and approached the chimney, while
+Faringhea, who had not yet recovered from his surprise, looked at him
+in silence. In a few seconds, however, the half-caste returned, with a
+gloomy and savage mien: "Take care, brother; do not force me to prove to
+you that I have told the truth."
+
+"Come, come, sir; you must be fresh from the Antipodes, to believe us
+Frenchmen such easy dupes. You have, you say, the prudence of a serpent,
+and the courage of a lion. I do not know if you are a courageous lion,
+but you are certainly not a prudent serpent. What! you have about you a
+letter from M. Van Dael, by which I might be compromised--supposing all
+this not to be a fable--you have left Prince Djalma in a stupor, which
+would serve my projects, and from which you alone can rouse him--you are
+able, you say, to strike a terrible blow at my interests--and yet you do
+not consider (bold lion! crafty serpent as you are!) that I only want to
+gain twenty-four hours upon you. Now, you come from the end of India to
+Paris, an unknown stranger--you believe me to be as great a scoundrel as
+yourself,--since you call me brother--and do not once consider, that you
+are here in my power--that this street and house are solitary, and
+that I could have three or four persons to bind you in a second, savage
+Strangler though you are!--and that just by pulling this bell-rope,"
+said Rodin, as he took it in his hand. "Do not be alarmed," added he,
+with a diabolical smile, as he saw Faringhea make an abrupt movement of
+surprise and fright; "would I give you notice, if I meant to act in
+this manner?--But just answer me. Once bound and put in confinement for
+twenty-four hours, how could you injure me? Would it not be easy for
+me to possess myself of Van Dael's letter, and Djalma's medal? and the
+latter, plunged in a stupor till to-morrow evening, need not trouble me
+at all. You see, therefore, that your threats are vain because they rest
+upon falsehood--because it is not true, that Prince Djalma is here and
+in your power. Begone, sir--leave the house; and when next you wish to
+make dupes, show more judgment in the selection."
+
+Faringhea seemed struck with astonishment. All that he had just heard
+seemed very probable. Rodin might seize upon him, the letter, and the
+medal, and, by keeping him prisoner, prevent Djalma from being awakened.
+And yet Rodin ordered him to leave the house, at the moment when
+Faringhea had imagined himself so formidable. As he thought for
+the motives of this inexplicable conduct, it struck him that Rodin,
+notwithstanding the proofs he had brought him, did not yet believe that
+Djalma was in his power. On that theory, the contempt of Van Dael's
+correspondent admitted of a natural explanation. But Rodin was playing a
+bold and skillful game; and, while he appeared to mutter to himself,
+as in anger, he was observing, with intense anxiety, the Strangler's
+countenance.
+
+The latter, almost certain that he had divined the secret motive of
+Rodin, replied: "I am going--but one word more. You think I deceive
+you?"
+
+"I am certain of it. You have told me nothing but a tissue of fables,
+and I have lost much time in listening to them. Spare me the rest; it is
+late--and I should like to be alone."
+
+"One minute more: you are a man, I see, from whom nothing should be
+hid," said Faringhea, "from Djalma, I could now only expect alms and
+disdain--for, with a character like this, to say to him, 'Pay me,
+because I might have betrayed you and did not,' would be to provoke his
+anger and contempt. I could have killed him twenty times over, but his
+day is not yet come," said the Thug, with a gloomy air; "and to wait for
+that and other fatal days, I must have gold, much gold. You alone can
+pay me for the betrayal of Djalma, for you alone profit by it. You
+refuse to hear me, because you think I am deceiving you. But I took the
+direction of the inn where we stopped--and here it is. Send some one to
+ascertain the truth of what I tell you, and then you will believe me.
+But the price of my services will be high; for I told you that I wanted
+much."
+
+So saying, Faringhea offered a printed card to Rodin: the socius, who,
+out of the corner of his eye, followed all the half-caste's movements,
+appeared to be absorbed in thought, and taking no heed of anything.
+
+"Here is the address," repeated Faringhea, as he held out the card to
+Rodin; "assure yourself that I do not lie."
+
+"Eh? what is it?" said the other, casting a rapid but stolen glance at
+the address, which he read greedily, without touching the card.
+
+"Take this address," repeated the half-caste, "and you may then assure
+yourself--"
+
+"Really, sir," cried Rodin, pushing back the card with his hand, "your
+impudence confounds me. I repeat that I wish to have nothing in common
+with you. For the last time, I tell you to leave the house. I know
+nothing about your Prince Djalma. You say you can injure me--do so--make
+no ceremonies--but, in heaven's name, leave me to myself."
+
+So saying, Rodin rang the bell violently. Faringhea made a movement as
+if to stand upon the defensive; but only the old servant, with his quiet
+and placid mien, appeared at the door.
+
+"Lapierre, light the gentleman out," said Rodin, pointing to Faringhea.
+
+Terrified at Rodin's calmness, the half-caste hesitated to leave the
+room.
+
+"Why do you wait, sir?" said Rodin, remarking his hesitation. "I wish to
+be alone."
+
+"So, sir," said Faringhea, as he withdrew, slowly, "you refuse my
+offers? Take care! to-morrow it will be too late."
+
+"I have the honor to be your most humble servant, sir," said Rodin,
+bowing courteously. The Strangler went out, and the door closed upon
+him.
+
+Immediately, Father d'Aigrigny entered from the next room. His
+countenance was pale and agitated.
+
+"What have you done?" exclaimed he addressing Rodin.
+
+"I have heard all. I am unfortunately too sure that this wretch spoke
+the truth. The Indian is in his power, and he goes to rejoin him."
+
+"I think not," said Rodin, humbly, as bowing, he reassumed his dull and
+submissive countenance.
+
+"What will prevent this man from rejoining the prince?"
+
+"Allow me. As soon as the rascal was shown in, I knew him; and so,
+before speaking a word to him, I wrote a few lines to Morok, who was
+waiting below with Goliath till your reverence should be at leisure.
+Afterwards, in the course of the conversation, when they brought me
+Morok's answer, I added some fresh instructions, seeing the turn that
+affairs were taking."
+
+"And what was the use of all this, since you have let the man leave the
+house?"
+
+"Your reverence will perhaps deign to observe that he did not leave it;
+till he had given me the direction of the hotel where the Indian now is,
+thanks to my innocent stratagem of appearing to despise him. But, if it
+had failed, Faringhea would still have fallen into the hands of Goliath
+and Morok, who are waiting for him in the street, a few steps from the
+door. Only we should have been rather embarrassed, as we should not have
+known where to find Prince Djalma."
+
+"More violence!" said Father d'Aigrigny, with repugnance.
+
+"It is to be regretted, very much regretted," replied Rodin; "but it was
+necessary to follow out the system already adopted."
+
+"Is that meant for a reproach?" said Father d'Aigrigny, who began to
+think that Rodin was something more than a mere writing-machine.
+
+"I could not permit myself to blame your reverence," said Rodin,
+cringing almost to the ground. "But all that will be required is to
+confine this man for twenty-four hours."
+
+"And afterwards--his complaints?"
+
+"Such a scoundrel as he is will not dare to complain. Besides, he left
+this house in freedom. Morok and Goliath will bandage his eyes when they
+seize him. The house has another entrance in the Rue Vieille-des-Ursins.
+At this hour, and in such a storm, no one will be passing through this
+deserted quarter of the town. The knave will be confused by the change
+of place; they will put him into a cellar, of the new building, and to
+morrow night, about the same hour, they will restore him to liberty with
+the like precautions. As for the East Indian, we now know where to find
+him; we must send to him a confidential person, and, if he recovers from
+his trance, there would be, in my humble opinion," said Rodin, modestly,
+"a very simple and quiet manner of keeping him away from the Rue Saint
+Francois all day to-morrow."
+
+The same servant with the mild countenance, who had introduced and shown
+out Faringhea, here entered the room, after knocking discreetly at the
+door. He held in his hand a sort of game-bag, which he gave to Rodin,
+saying: "Here is what M. Morok has just brought; he came in by the Rue
+Vieille."
+
+The servant withdrew, and Rodin, opening the bag, said to Father
+d'Aigrigny, as he showed him the contents: "The medal, and Van Dael's
+letter. Morok has been quick at his work."
+
+"One more danger avoided," said the marquis; "it is a pity to be forced
+to such measures."
+
+"We must only blame the rascal who has obliged us to have recourse to
+them. I will send instantly to the hotel where the Indian lodges."
+
+"And, at seven in the morning, you will conduct Gabriel to the Rue Saint
+Francois. It is there that I must have with him the interview which he
+has so earnestly demanded these three days."
+
+"I informed him of it this evening, and he awaits your orders."
+
+"At last, then," said Father d'Aigrigny, "after so many struggles, and
+fears, and crosses, only a few hours separate us from the moment which
+we have so long desired."
+
+We now conduct the reader to the house in the Rue Saint-Francois.
+
+(13) The doctrine of passive and absolute obedience, the principal tool
+in the hands of the Jesuits, as summed up in these terrible words of the
+dying Loyola--that every member of the order should be in the hands of
+his superiors as a dead body--'perinde ad cadaver'.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. THE HOUSE IN THE RUE SAINT-FRANCOIS.
+
+On entering the Rue Saint-Gervais, by the Rue Dore (in the Marais),
+you would have found yourself, at the epoch of this narrative, directly
+opposite to an enormously high wall, the stones of which were black and
+worm-eaten with age. This wall, which extended nearly the whole length
+of that solitary street, served to support a terrace shaded by trees
+of some hundred years old, which thus grew about forty feet above the
+causeway. Through their thick branches appeared the stone front, peaked
+roof and tall brick chimneys of an antique house, the entrance of which
+was situated in the Rue Saint-Francois, not far from the Rue Saint
+Gervais corner. Nothing could be more gloomy than the exterior of this
+abode. On the entrance-side also was a very high wall, pierced with two
+or three loop-holes, strongly grated. A carriage gateway in massive oak,
+barred with iron, and studded with large nail-heads, whose primitive
+color disappeared beneath a thick layer of mud, dust, and rust, fitted
+close into the arch of a deep recess, forming the swell of a bay window
+above. In one of these massive gates was a smaller door, which served
+for ingress and egress to Samuel the Jew, the guardian of this dreary
+abode. On passing the threshold, you came to a passage, formed in the
+building which faced in the street. In this building was the lodging of
+Samuel, with its windows opening upon the rather spacious inner court
+yard, through the railing of which you perceived the garden. In the
+middle of this garden stood a two-storied stone house, so strangely
+built, that you had to mount a flight of steps, or rather a
+double-flight of at least twenty steps, to reach the door, which had
+been walled up a hundred and fifty years before. The window-blinds
+of this habitation had been replaced by large thick plates of lead,
+hermetically soldered and kept in by frames of iron clamped in the
+stone. Moreover, completely to intercept air and light, and thus to
+guard against decay within and without, the roof had been covered with
+thick sheets of lead, as well as the vents of the tall chimneys, which
+had previously been bricked up. The same precautions had been taken with
+respect to a small square belvedere, situated on the top of the house;
+this glass cage was covered with a sort of dome, soldered to the roof.
+Only, in consequence of some singular fancy, in every one of the leaden
+plates, which concealed the four sides of the belvedere, corresponding
+to the cardinal points, seven little round holes had been bored in
+the form of a cross, and were easily distinguishable from the outside.
+Everywhere else the plates of lead were completely unpierced. Thanks
+to these precautions, and to the substantial structure of the
+building, nothing but a few outward repairs had been necessary; and the
+apartments, entirely removed from the influence of the external air, no
+doubt remained, during a century and a half, exactly in the same state
+as at the time of their being shut up. The aspect of walls in crevices,
+of broken, worm-eaten shutters, of a roof half fallen in, and windows
+covered with wall-flowers, would perhaps have been less sad than the
+appearance of this stone house, plated with iron and lead, and preserved
+like a mausoleum. The garden, completely deserted, and only regularly
+visited once a week by Samuel, presented to the view, particularly in
+summer, an incredible confusion of parasites and brambles. The trees,
+left to themselves, had shot forth and mingled their branches in all
+directions; some straggling vines, reproduced from offshoots, had
+crept along the ground to the foot of the trees, and, climbing up their
+trunks, had twined themselves about them, and encircled their highest
+branches with their inextricable net. You could only pass through this
+virgin forest by following the path made by the guardian, to go from the
+grating to the house, the approaches to which were a little sloped to
+let the water run off, and carefully paved to the width of about ten
+feet. Another narrow path which extended all around the enclosure, was
+every night perambulated by two or three Pyrenees dogs--a faithful race,
+which had been perpetuated in the house during a century and a half.
+Such was the habitation destined for the meeting of the descendants of
+the family of Rennepont. The night which separated the 12th from the
+13th day of February was near its close. A calm had succeeded the storm,
+and the rain had ceased; the sky was clear and full of stars; the moon,
+on its decline, shone with a mild lustre, and threw a melancholy light
+over that deserted, silent house, whose threshold for so many years no
+human footstep had crossed.
+
+A bright gleam of light, issuing from one of the windows of the
+guardian's dwelling, announced that Samuel was awake. Figure to yourself
+a tolerably large room, lined from top to bottom with old walnut
+wainscoting browned to an almost black, with age. Two half-extinguished
+brands are smoking amid the cinders on the hearth. On the stone
+mantelpiece, painted to resemble gray granite, stands an old iron
+candlestick, furnished with a meagre candle, capped by an extinguisher.
+Near it one sees a pair of double-barrelled pistols, and a sharp
+cutlass, with a hilt of carved bronze, belonging to the seventeenth
+century. Moreover, a heavy rifle rests against one of the chimney jambs.
+Four stools, an old oak press, and a square table with twisted legs,
+formed the sole furniture of this apartment. Against the wall were
+systematically suspended a number of keys of different sizes, the shape
+of which bore evidence to their antiquity, whilst to their rings were
+affixed divers labels. The back of the old press, which moved by a
+secret spring, had been pushed aside, and discovered, built in the wall,
+a large and deep iron chest, the lid of which, being open, displayed
+the wondrous mechanism of one of those Florentine locks of the sixteenth
+century, which, better than any modern invention, set all picklocks
+at defiance; and, moreover, according to the notions of that age, are
+supplied with a thick lining of asbestos cloth, suspended by gold wire
+at a distance from the sides of the chest, for the purpose of rendering
+incombustible the articles contained in it. A large cedar-wood box
+had been taken from the chest, and placed upon a stool; it contained
+numerous papers, carefully arranged and docketed. By the light of a
+brass lamp, the old keeper Samuel, was writing in a small register,
+whilst Bathsheba, his wife, was dictating to him from an account. Samuel
+was about eighty two years old, and, notwithstanding his advanced age, a
+mass of gray curling hair covered his head. He was short, thin, nervous,
+and the involuntary petulance of his movements proved that years had not
+weakened his energy and activity; though, out of doors, where, however,
+he made his appearance very seldom, he affected a sort of second
+childhood, as had been remarked by Rodin to Father d'Aigrigny. An old
+dressing-gown, of maroon-colored camlet, with large sleeves, completely
+enveloped the old man, and reached to his feet.
+
+Samuel's features were cast in the pure, Eastern mould of his race. His
+complexion was of a dead yellow, his nose aquiline, his chin shaded by
+a little tuft of white beard, while projecting cheek-bones threw a harsh
+shadow upon the hollow and wrinkled cheeks. His countenance was full of
+intelligence, fine sharpness, and sagacity. On his broad, high forehead
+one might read frankness, honesty, and firmness; his eyes, black and
+brilliant as an Arab's, were at once mild and piercing.
+
+His wife, Bathsheba, some fifteen years younger than himself, was of
+tall stature, and dressed entirely in black. A low cap, of starched
+lawn, which reminded one of the grave head-dresses of Dutch matrons,
+encircled a pale and austere countenance, formerly of a rare and haughty
+beauty, and impressed with the Scriptural character. Some lines in the
+forehead, caused by the almost continual knitting of her gray brows,
+showed that this woman had often suffered from the pressure of intense
+grief.
+
+At this very moment her countenance betrayed inexpressible sorrow. Her
+look was fixed, her head resting on her bosom. She had let her right
+hand, which held a small account-book, fall upon her lap, while the
+other hand grasped convulsively a long tress of jet-black hair, which
+she bore about her neck. It was fastened by a golden clasp, about an
+inch square, in which, under a plate of crystal, that shut in one side
+of it like a relic-case, could be seen a piece of linen, folded square,
+and almost entirely covered with dark red spots that resembled blood a
+long time dried.
+
+After a short silence, during which Samuel was occupied with his
+register, he read aloud what he had just been writing: "Per contra,
+5,000 Austrian Metallics of 1,000 florins, under date of October 19th,
+1826."
+
+After which enumeration, Samuel raised his head, and said to his wife:
+"Well, is it right, Bathsheba? Have you compared it with the account
+book?"
+
+Bathsheba did not answer. Samuel looked at her, and, seeing that she was
+absorbed in grief, said to her, with an expression of tender anxiety:
+"What is the matter? Good heaven! what is the matter with you?"
+
+"The 19th of October, 1826," said she, slowly, with her eyes still
+fixed, and pressing yet more closely the lock of black hair which she
+wore about her neck; "It was a fatal day--for, Samuel, it was the date
+of the last letter which we received from--"
+
+Bathsheba was unable to proceed. She uttered a long sigh, and concealed
+her face in her hands.
+
+"Oh! I understand you," observed the old man, in a tremulous voice; "a
+father may be taken up by the thought of other cares; but the heart of
+a mother is ever wakeful." Throwing his pen down upon the table, Samuel
+leaned his forehead upon his hands in sorrow.
+
+Bathsheba resumed, as if she found a melancholy pleasure in these cruel
+remembrances: "Yes; that was the last day on which our son, Abel, wrote
+to us from Germany, to announce to us that he had invested the funds
+according to your desire and was going thence into Poland, to effect
+another operation."
+
+"And in Poland he met the death of a martyr," added Samuel. "With no
+motive and no proof, they accused him falsely of coming to organize
+smuggling, and the Russian governor, treating him as they treat our
+brothers in that land of cruel tyranny, condemned him to the dreadful
+punishment of the knout, without even hearing him in his defence. Why
+should they hear a Jew? What is a Jew? A creature below a serf, whom
+they reproach for all the vices that a degrading slavery has engendered.
+A Jew beaten to death? Who would trouble themselves about it?"
+
+"And poor Abel, so good, so faithful, died beneath their stripes, partly
+from shame, partly from the wounds," said Bathsheba, shuddering. "One
+of our Polish brethren obtained with great difficulty permission to
+bury him. He cut off this lock of beautiful black hair--which, with this
+scrap of linen, bathed in the blood of our dear son, is all that
+now remains to us of him." Bathsheba covered the hair and clasp with
+convulsive kisses.
+
+"Alas!" said Samuel, drying his tears, which had burst forth at these
+sad recollections, "the Lord did not at last remove our child, until the
+task which our family has accomplished faithfully for a century and a
+half was nearly at an end. Of what use will our race be henceforth upon
+earth?" added Samuel, most bitterly. "Our duty is performed. This casket
+contains a royal fortune--and yonder house, walled up for a hundred
+and fifty years, will be opened to-morrow to the descendants of my
+ancestor's benefactor." So saying, Samuel turned his face sorrowfully
+towards the house, which he could see through the window. The dawn was
+just about to appear. The moon had set; belvedere, roof, and chimneys
+formed a black mass upon the dark blue of the starry firmament.
+
+Suddenly, Samuel grew pale, and, rising abruptly, said to his wife in
+a tremulous tone, whilst he still pointed to the house: "Bathsheba! the
+seven points of light--just as it was thirty years ago. Look! look:"
+
+Indeed, the seven round holes, bored in the form of a cross in the
+leaden plates which covered the window of the belvedere, sparkled like
+so many luminous points, as if some one in the house ascended with a
+light to the roof.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. DEBIT AND CREDIT.
+
+For some seconds, Samuel and Bathsheba remained motionless, with their
+eyes fixed in fear and uneasiness on the seven luminous points,
+which shone through the darkness of the night from the summit of the
+belvedere; while, on the horizon, behind the house, a pale, rosy hue
+announced the dawn of day.
+
+Samuel was the first to break silence, and he said to his wife, as he
+drew his hand across his brow: "The grief caused by the remembrance of
+our poor child has prevented us from reflecting that, after all, there
+should be nothing to alarm us in what we see."
+
+"How so, Samuel?"
+
+"My father always told me that he, and my grandfather before him, had
+seen such lights at long intervals."
+
+"Yes, Samuel--but without being able, any more than ourselves, to
+explain the cause."
+
+"Like my father and grandfather, we can only suppose that some secret
+passage gives admittance to persons who, like us, have some mysterious
+duty to fulfil in this dwelling. Besides, my father warned me not to be
+uneasy at these appearances, foretold by him, and now visible for the
+second time in thirty years."
+
+"No matter for that, Samuel, it does strike one as if it was something
+supernatural."
+
+"The days of miracles are over." said the Jew, shaking his head
+sorrowfully: "many of the old houses in this quarter have subterraneous
+communications with distant places--some extending even to the Seine and
+the Catacombs. Doubtless, this house is so situated, and the persons who
+make these rare visits enter by some such means."
+
+"But that the belvedere should be thus lighted up?"
+
+"According to the plan of the building, you know that the belvedere
+forms a kind of skylight to the apartment called the Great Hall of
+Mourning, situated on the upper story. As it is completely dark, in
+consequence of the closing of all the windows, they must use a light to
+visit this Hall of Mourning--a room which is said to contain some very
+strange and gloomy things," added the Jew, with a shudder.
+
+Bathsheba, as well as her husband, gazed attentively on the seven
+luminous points, which diminished in brightness as the daylight
+gradually increased.
+
+"As you say, Samuel, the mystery may be thus explained," resumed the
+Hebrew's wife. "Besides, the day is so important a one for the family
+of Rennepont, that this apparition: ought not to astonish us under the
+circumstances."
+
+"Only to think," remarked Samuel, "that these lights have appeared at
+several different times throughout a century and a half! There must,
+therefore, be another family that, like ours, has devoted itself, from
+generation to generation, to accomplish a pious duty."
+
+"But what is this duty? It will perhaps be explained today."
+
+"Come, come, Bathsheba," suddenly exclaimed Samuel, as if roused from
+his reverie, and reproaching himself with idleness; this is the day,
+and, before eight o'clock, our cash account must be in order, and these
+titles to immense property arranged, so that they may be delivered to
+the rightful owners"--and he pointed to the cedar-wood box.
+
+"You are right, Samuel; this day does not belong to us. It is a solemn
+day--one that would have been sweet, oh! very sweet to you and me--if
+now any days could be sweet to us," said Bathsheba bitterly, for she was
+thinking of her son.
+
+"Bathsheba," said Samuel, mournfully, as he laid his hand on his wife's;
+"we shall at least have the stern satisfaction of having done our duty.
+And has not the Lord been very favorable to us, though He has thus
+severely tried us by the death of our son? Is it not thanks to His
+providence that three generations of my family have been able to
+commence, continue, and finish this great work?"
+
+"Yes, Samuel," said the Jewess, affectionately, "and for you at least
+this satisfaction will be combined with calm and quietness, for on
+the stroke of noon you will be delivered from a very terrible
+responsibility."
+
+So saying, Bathsheba pointed to the box.
+
+"It is true," replied the old man; "I had rather these immense riches
+were in the hands of those to whom they belong, than in mine; but, to
+day, I shall cease to be their trustee. Once more then, I will check the
+account for the last time, and compare the register with the cash-book
+that you hold in your hand."
+
+Bathsheba bowed her head affirmatively, and Samuel, taking up his pen,
+occupied himself once more with his calculations. His wife, in spite
+of herself, again yielded to the sad thoughts which that fatal date had
+awakened, by reminding her of the death of her son.
+
+Let us now trace rapidly the history, in appearance so romantic and
+marvellous, in reality so simple, of the fifty thousand crowns, which,
+thanks to the law of accumulation, and to a prudent, intelligent and
+faithful investment, had naturally, and necessarily, been transformed,
+in the space of a century and a half, into a sum far more important
+than the forty millions estimated by Father d'Aigrigny--who, partially
+informed on this subject, and reckoning the disastrous accidents,
+losses, and bankruptcies which might have occurred during so long a
+period, believed that forty millions might well b e considered enormous.
+
+The history of this fortune being closely connected with that of the
+Samuel family, by whom it had been managed for three generations, we
+shall give it again in a few words.
+
+About the period 1670, some years before his death, Marius de Rennepont,
+then travelling in Portugal, had been enabled, by means of powerful
+interest, to save the life of an unfortunate Jew, condemned to be burnt
+alive by the Inquisition, because of his religion. This Jew was Isaac
+Samuel, grandfather of the present guardian of the house in the Rue
+Saint-Francois.
+
+Generous men often attach themselves to those they have served, as much,
+at least, as the obliged parties are attached to their benefactors.
+Having ascertained that Isaac, who at that time carried on a petty
+broker's business at Lisbon, was industrious, honest, active, laborious,
+and intelligent, M. de Rennepont, who then possessed large property
+in France, proposed to the Jew to accompany him, and undertake the
+management of his affairs. The same hatred and suspicion with which the
+Israelites have always been followed, was then at its height. Isaac was
+therefore doubly grateful for this mark of confidence on the part of
+M. de Rennepont. He accepted the offer, and promised from that day to
+devote his existence to the service of him who had first saved his life,
+and then trusted implicitly to his good faith and uprightness, although
+he was a Jew, and belonged to a race generally suspected and despised.
+M. de Rennepont, a man of great soul, endowed with a good spirit, was
+not deceived in his choice. Until he was deprived of his fortune, it
+prospered wonderfully in the hands of Isaac Samuel, who, gifted with an
+admirable aptitude for business, applied himself exclusively to advance
+the interests of his benefactor.
+
+Then came the persecution and ruin of M. de Rennepont, whose property
+was confiscated and given up to the reverend fathers of the Company of
+Jesus only a few days before his death. Concealed in the retreat he had
+chosen, therein to put a violent end to his life, he sent secretly for
+Isaac Samuel, and delivered to him fifty thousand crowns in gold, the
+last remains of his fortune. This faithful servant was to invest the
+money to the best advantage, and, if he should have a son, transmit to
+him the same obligation; or, should he have no child, he was to seek out
+some relation worthy of continuing this trust, to which would moreover
+be annexed a fair reward. It was thus to be transmitted and perpetuated
+from relative to relative, until the expiration of a century and a half.
+M. de Rennepont also begged Isaac to take charge, during his life, of
+the house in the Rue Saint-Francois, where he would be lodged gratis,
+and to leave this function likewise to his descendants, if it were
+possible.
+
+If even Isaac Samuel had not had children, the powerful bond of union
+which exists between certain Jewish families, would have rendered
+practicable the last will of De Rennepont. The relations of Isaac would
+have become partner; in his gratitude to his benefactor, and they, and
+their succeeding generations, would have religiously accomplished the
+task imposed upon one of their race. But, several years after the death
+of De Rennepont, Isaac had a son.
+
+This son, Levy Samuel, born in 1689, not having had any children by his
+first wife, married again at nearly sixty years of age, and, in 1750, he
+also had a son--David Samuel, the guardian of the house in the Rue Saint
+Francois, who, in 1832 (the date of this narrative), was eighty-two
+years old, and seemed likely to live as long as his father, who had died
+at the age of ninety-three. Finally, Abel Samuel, the son whom Bathsheba
+so bitterly regretted, born in 1790, had perished under the Russian
+knout, at the age of thirty-six.
+
+Having established this humble genealogy, we easily understand how this
+successive longevity of three members of the Samuel family, all of whom
+had been guardians of the walled house, by uniting, as it were, the
+nineteenth with the seventeenth century, simplified and facilitated
+the execution of M. de Rennepont's will; the latter having declared his
+desire to the grandfather of the Samuels, that the capital should only
+be augmented by interest at five per cent.--so that the fortune might
+come to his descendants free from all taint of usurious speculation.
+
+The fellow men of the Samuel family, the first inventors of the bill of
+exchange, which served them in the Middle Ages to transport mysteriously
+considerable amounts from one end of the world to the other, to conceal
+their fortune, and to shield it from the rapacity of their enemies--the
+Jews, we say, having almost the monopoly of the trade in money and
+exchanges, until the end of the eighteenth century, aided the secret
+transactions and financial operations of this family, which, up to about
+1820, placed their different securities, which had become progressively
+immense, in the hands of the principal Israelitish bankers and merchants
+of Europe. This sure and secret manner of acting had enabled the present
+guardian of the house in the Rue Saint-Francois, to effect enormous
+investments, unknown to all; and it was more especially during the
+period of his management, that the capital sum had acquired, by the mere
+fact of compound interest, an almost incalculable development. Compared
+with him, his father and grandfather had only small amounts to manage.
+Though it had only been necessary to find successively sure and
+immediate investments, so that the money might not remain as it were
+one day without bearing interest, it had acquired financial capacity to
+attain this result, when so many millions were in question. The last of
+the Samuels, brought up in the school of his father, had exhibited
+this capacity in a very high degree, as will be seen immediately by the
+results. Nothing could be more touching, noble, and respectable, than
+the conduct of the members of this Jewish family, who, partners in the
+engagement of gratitude taken by their ancestor, devote themselves for
+long years, with as much disinterestedness as intelligence and honesty,
+to the slow acquisition of a kingly fortune, of which they expect no
+part themselves, but which, thanks to them, would come pure, as immense,
+to the hands of the descendants of their benefactor! Nor could anything
+be more honorable to him who made, and him who received this deposit,
+than the simple promise by word of mouth, unaccompanied by any security
+save mutual confidence and reciprocal esteem, when the result was only
+to be produced at the end of a century and a half!
+
+After once more reading his inventory with attention, Samuel said to his
+wife: "I am certain of the correctness of my additions. Now please
+to compare with the account-book in your hand the summary of the
+investments that I have just entered in the register. I will assure
+myself, at the same time, that the bonds and vouchers are properly
+arranged in this casket, that, on the opening of the will, they may be
+delivered in order to the notary."
+
+"Begin, my dear, and I will check you," said Bathsheba.
+
+Samuel read as follows, examining as he went on, the contents of his
+casket:
+
+Statement of the account of the heirs of M. DE RENNEPONT, delivered by
+DAVID SAMUELS.
+
+DEBIT.
+
+     2,000,000 francs per annum,
+      in the French 5 P. C.,
+      bought from 1825 to 1832,
+      at an average price of 99f.
+      50c............ 39,800,000
+     900,000 francs, ditto, in
+      the French 3 P. C.,
+      bought during the
+      same years, at an average
+      of 74f 25c........ 22,275,000
+     5;000 shares in the Bank
+      of France, bought at 1,900 9,500,000
+     3,000 shares in the Four
+      Canals, in a certificate
+      from the Company,
+      bought at 1,115f..... 3,345,000
+     125,000 ducats of
+      Neapolitans, at an average
+      of 82. 2,050,000 ducats,
+      at 4f. 400.......  9,020,000
+     5,000 Austrian Metallics,
+      of 1,000 florins, at 93
+     --say 4,650,000 florins,
+      at 2f. 50c........ 11,625,000
+     75,000 pounds sterling
+      per annum, English
+      Consolidated 3 P. C.,
+      at 88 3/4--say 2,218,750,
+      at 25f......... 55,468,750
+     1,200,000 florins, Dutch
+     2 1/2 P. C., at 60-28,
+     860,000 florins, at 2f.
+     100........... 60,606,000
+     Cash in banknotes, gold
+     and silver........   535,250
+                          ------
+              Francs  212,175,000
+
+     Paris, 12th February, 1832.
+     CREDIT.
+
+     150,000 francs
+      received from M.
+      de Rennepont,
+      in 1682, by Isaac
+      Samuel my grandfather;
+      and invested by him,
+      my father, and myself,
+      in different securities,
+      at Five per Cent.
+      Interest, with a
+      settlement of account
+      and Investment of
+      interest every six
+      months, producing,
+      as by annexed vouchers, 225,950,000
+
+     Less losses sustained
+      by failures, expenses of
+      commission and
+      brokerage, and
+      salary of three
+      generations of
+      trustees, as per
+      statement annexed    13,775,000
+                           ----------
+                          212,175,000
+
+     Francs 212,175,000
+
+"It is quite right," said Samuel, after examining the papers, contained
+in the cedar-wood box. "There remains in hand, at the absolute disposal
+of the heirs of the Rennepont family, the Sum Of TWO HUNDRED AND TWELVE
+MILLIONS, ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE THOUSAND FRANCS." And the old man
+looked at his wife with an expression of legitimate pride. "It is hardly
+credible!" cried Bathsheba, struck with surprise. "I knew that you had
+immense property in your hands; but I could never have believed, that
+one hundred and fifty thousand francs, left a century and a half ago,
+should be the only source of this immense fortune."
+
+"It is even so, Bathsheba," answered the old man, proudly. "Doubtless,
+my grandfather, my father, and myself, have all been exact and faithful
+in the management of these funds; doubtless, we have required some
+sagacity in the choice of investments, in times of revolution and
+commercial panics; but all this was easy to us, thanks to our relations
+with our brethren in all countries--and never have I, or any of mine,
+made an usurious investment, or even taken the full advantage of
+the legal rate of interest. Such were the positive demands of M. de
+Rennepont, given to my grandfather; nor is there in the world a
+fortune that has been obtained by purer means. Had it not been for this
+disinterestedness, we might have much augmented this two hundred
+and twelve millions, only by taking advantage of a few favorable
+circumstances."
+
+"Dear me! is it possible?"
+
+"Nothing is more simple, Bathsheba. Every one knows, that in fourteen
+years a capital will be doubled, by the mere accumulation of interest
+and compound interest at five per cent. Now reflect, that in a century
+and a half there are ten times fourteen years, and that these one
+hundred and fifty thousands francs have thus been doubled and redoubled,
+over and over again. All that astonishes you will then appear plain
+enough. In 1682, M. de Rennepont entrusted my grandfather with a hundred
+and fifty thousand francs; this sum, invested as I have told you, would
+have produced in 1696, fourteen years after, three hundred thousand
+francs. These last, doubled in 1710, would produce six hundred thousand.
+On the death of my grandfather in 1719, the amount was already near a
+million; in 1724, it would be twelve hundred thousand francs; in 1738,
+two millions four hundred thousand; in 1752, about two years after my
+birth, four millions eight hundred thousand; in 1766, nine millions six
+hundred thousand; in 1780, nineteen millions two hundred thousand; in
+1794, twelve years after the death of my father, thirty-eight millions
+four hundred thousand; in 1808, seventy-six millions eight hundred
+thousand; in 1822, one hundred and fifty-three millions six hundred
+thousand; and, at this time, taking the compound interest for ten years,
+it should be at least two hundred and twenty-five millions. But losses
+and inevitable charges, of which the account has been strictly kept,
+have reduced the sum to two hundred and twelve millions one hundred and
+seventy-five thousand francs, the securities for which are in this box."
+
+"I now understand you, my dear," answered Bathsheba, thoughtfully;
+"but how wonderful is this power of accumulation! and what admirable
+provision may be made for the future, with the smallest present
+resources!"
+
+"Such, no doubt, was the idea of M. de Rennepont; for my father has
+often told me, and he derived it from his father, that M. de Rennepont
+was one of the soundest intellects of his time," said Samuel, as he
+closed the cedar-box.
+
+"God grant his descendants may be worthy of this kingly fortune, and
+make a noble use of it!" said Bathsheba, rising.
+
+It was now broad day, and the clock had just struck seven.
+
+"The masons will soon be here," said Samuel, as he replaced the
+cedar-box in the iron safe, concealed behind the antique press. "Like
+you, Bathsheba, I am curious and anxious to know, what descendants of M.
+de Rennepont will now present themselves."
+
+Two or three loud knocks on the outer gate resounded through the house.
+The barking of the watch-dogs responded to this summons.
+
+Samuel said to his wife: "It is no doubt the masons, whom the notary has
+sent with his clerk. Tie all the keys and their labels together; I will
+come back and fetch them."
+
+So saying, Samuel went down to the door with much nimbleness,
+considering his age, prudently opened a small wicket, and saw three
+workmen, in the garb of masons, accompanied by a young man dressed in
+black.
+
+"What may you want, gentlemen?" said the Jew, before opening the door,
+as he wished first to make sure of the identity of the personages.
+
+"I am sent by M. Dumesnil, the notary," answered the clerk, "to be
+present at the unwalling of a door. Here is a letter from my master,
+addressed to M. Samuel, guardian of the house."
+
+"I am he, sir," said the Jew; "please to put the letter through the
+slide, and I will take it."
+
+The clerk did as Samuel desired, but shrugged his shoulders at what
+he considered the ridiculous precautions of a suspicious old man. The
+housekeeper opened the box, took the letter, went to the end of
+the vaulted passage in order to read it, and carefully compared the
+signature with that of another letter which he drew from the pocket
+of his long coat; then, after all these precautions, he chained up his
+dogs, and returned to open the gate to the clerk and masons.
+
+"What the devil, my good man!" said the clerk, as he entered; "there
+would not be more formalities in opening the gates of a fortress!"
+
+The Jew bowed, but without answering.
+
+"Are you deaf, my good fellow?" cried the clerk, close to his ears.
+
+"No, sir," said Samuel, with a quiet smile, as he advanced several steps
+beyond the passage. Then pointing to the old house, he added: "That,
+sir, is the door which you will have to open; you will also have to
+remove the lead and iron from the second window to the right."
+
+"Why not open all the windows?" asked the clerk.
+
+"Because, sir, as guardian of this house, I have received particular
+orders on the subject."
+
+"Who gave you these orders?"
+
+"My father, sir, who received them from his father, who transmitted them
+from the master of this house. When I cease to have the care of it, the
+new proprietor will do as he pleases."
+
+"Oh! very well," said the clerk, not a little surprised. Then,
+addressing himself to the masons, he added: "This is your business, my
+fine fellows; you are to unwall the door, and remove the iron frame-work
+of the second window to the right."
+
+Whilst the masons set to work, under the inspection of the notary's
+clerk, a coach stopped before the outer gate, and Rodin, accompanied by
+Gabriel, entered the house in the Rue Saint-Francois.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. THE HEIR
+
+Samuel opened the door to Gabriel and Rodin.
+
+The latter said to the Jew, "You, sir, are the keeper of this house?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Samuel.
+
+"This is Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont," said Rodin, as he introduced his
+companion, "one of the descendants of the family of the Renneponts."
+
+"Happy to hear it, sir," said the Jew, almost involuntarily, struck with
+the angelic countenance of Gabriel--for nobleness and serenity of soul
+were visible in the glance of the young priest, and were written upon
+his pure, white brow, already crowned with the halo of martyrdom. Samuel
+looked at Gabriel with curiosity and benevolent interest; but feeling
+that this silent contemplation must cause some embarrassment to his
+guest, he said to him, "M. Abbe, the notary will not be here before ten
+o'clock."
+
+Gabriel looked at him in turn, with an air of surprise, and answered,
+"What notary, sir?"
+
+"Father d'Aigrigny will explain all this to you," said Rodin, hastily.
+Then addressing Samuel, he added, "We are a little before the time. Will
+you allow us to wait for the arrival of the notary?"
+
+"Certainly," said Samuel, "if you please to walk into my house."
+
+"I thank you, sir," answered Rodin, "and accept your offer."
+
+"Follow me, then, gentlemen," said the old man.
+
+A few moments after, the young priest and the socius, preceded by
+Samuel, entered one of the rooms occupied by the latter, on the
+ground-floor of the building, looking out upon the court-yard.
+
+"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, who has been the guardian of M. Gabriel, will soon
+be coming to ask for us," added Rodin; "will you have the kindness, sir
+to show him into this room?"
+
+"I will not fail to do so, sir," said Samuel, as he went out.
+
+The socius and Gabriel were left alone. To the adorable gentleness which
+usually gave to the fine features of the missionary so touching a charm,
+there had succeeded in this moment a remarkable expression of sadness,
+resolution, and severity. Rodin not having seen Gabriel for some days,
+was greatly struck by the change he remarked in him. He had watched him
+silently all the way from the Rue des Postes to the Rue Saint-Francois.
+The young priest wore, as usual, a long black cassock, which made still
+more visible the transparent paleness of his countenance. When the Jew
+had left the room, Gabriel said to Rodin, in a firm voice, "Will you at
+length inform me, sir, why, for some days past, I have been prevented
+from speaking to his reverence Father d'Aigrigny? Why has he chosen this
+house to grant me an interview?"
+
+"It is impossible for me to answer these questions," replied Rodin,
+coldly. "His reverence will soon arrive, and will listen to you. All I
+can tell you is, that the reverend father lays as much stress upon this
+meeting as you do. If he has chosen this house for the interview, it is
+because you have an interest to be here. You know it well--though you
+affected astonishment on hearing the guardian speak of a notary."
+
+So saying, Rodin fixed a scrutinizing, anxious look upon Gabriel, whose
+countenance expressed only surprise.
+
+"I do not understand you," said he, in reply to Rodin. "What have I to
+do with this house?"
+
+"It is impossible that you should not know it," answered Rodin, still
+looking at him with attention.
+
+"I have told you, sir, that I do not know it," replied the other, almost
+offended by the pertinacity of the socius.
+
+"What, then, did your adopted mother come to tell you yesterday? Why did
+you presume to receive her without permission from Father d'Aigrigny, as
+I have heard this morning? Did she not speak with you of certain family
+papers, found upon you when she took you in?"
+
+"No, sir," said Gabriel; "those papers were delivered at the time to
+my adopted mother's confessor, and they afterwards passed into Father
+d'Aigrigny's hands. This is the first I hear for a long time of these
+papers."
+
+"So you affirm that Frances Baudoin did not come to speak to you on
+this subject?" resumed Rodin, obstinately, laying great emphasis on his
+words.
+
+"This is the second time, sir, that you seem to doubt my affirmation,"
+said the young priest, mildly, while he repressed a movement of
+impatience, "I assure you that I speak the truth."
+
+"He knows nothing," thought Rodin; for he was too well convinced of
+Gabriel's sincerity to retain the least doubt after so positive a
+declaration. "I believe you," went on he. "The idea only occurred to me
+in reflecting what could be the reason of sufficient weight to induce
+you to transgress Father d'Aigrigny's orders with regard to the absolute
+retirement he had commanded, which was to exclude all communication with
+those without. Much more, contrary to all the rules of our house, you
+ventured to shut the door of your room, whereas it ought to remain half
+open, that the mutual inspection enjoined us might be the more easily
+practiced. I could only explain these sins against discipline, by the
+necessity of some very important conversation with your adopted mother."
+
+"It was to a priest, and not to her adopted son, that Madame Baudoin
+wished to speak," replied Gabriel, in a tone of deep seriousness. "I
+closed my door because I was to hear a confession."
+
+"And what had Frances Baudoin of such importance to confess?"
+
+"You will know that by-and-bye, when I speak to his reverence--if it be
+his pleasure that you should hear me."
+
+These words were so firmly spoken, that a long silence ensued. Let us
+remind the reader that Gabriel had hitherto been kept by his superiors
+in the most complete ignorance of the importance of the family interests
+which required his presence in the Rue Saint-Francois. The day before,
+Frances Baudoin, absorbed in her own grief, had forgotten to tell him
+that the two orphans also should be present at this meeting, and had she
+even thought of it, Dagobert would have prevented her mentioning this
+circumstance to the young priest.
+
+Gabriel was therefore quite ignorant of the family ties which united him
+with the daughters of Marshal Simon, with Mdlle. de Cardoville, with M.
+Hardy, Prince Djalma, and Sleepinbuff. In a word, if it had then been
+revealed to him that he was the heir of Marius de Rennepont, he would
+have believed himself the only descendant of the family. During the
+moment's silence which succeeded his conversation with Rodin, Gabriel
+observed through the windows the mason's at their work of unwalling the
+door. Having finished this first operation, they set about removing the
+bars of iron by which a plate of lead was fixed over the same entrance.
+
+At this juncture, Father d'Aigrigny, conducted by Samuel, entered the
+room. Before Gabriel could turn around, Rodin had time to whisper to the
+reverend father, "He knows nothing--and we have no longer anything to
+fear from the Indian."
+
+Notwithstanding his affected calmness, Father d'Aigrigny's countenance
+was pale and contracted, like that of a player who is about to stake all
+on a last, decisive game. Hitherto, all had favored the designs of the
+Society; but he could not think without alarm of the four hours which
+still remained before they should reach the fatal moment. Gabriel having
+turned towards him, Father d'Aigrigny offered him his hand with a smile,
+and said to him in an affectionate and cordial tone, "My dear son, it
+has pained me a good deal to have been obliged to refuse you till now
+the interview that you so much desired. It has been no less distressing
+to me to impose on you a confinement of some days. Though I cannot give
+any explanation of what I may think fit to order, I will just observe to
+you that I have acted only for your interest."
+
+"I am bound to believe your reverence," answered Gabriel, bowing his
+head.
+
+In spite of himself, the young priest felt a vague sense of fear, for
+until his departure for his American mission, Father d'Aigrigny,
+at whose feet he had pronounced the formidable vows which bound him
+irrevocably to the Society of Jesus, had exercised over him that
+frightful species of influence which, acting only by despotism,
+suppression, and intimidation, breaks down all the living forces of
+the soul, and leaves it inert, trembling, and terrified. Impressions of
+early youth are indelible, and this was the first time, since his
+return from America, that Gabriel found himself in presence of Father
+d'Aigrigny; and although he did not shrink from the resolution he had
+taken, he regretted not to have been able, as he had hoped, to gather
+new strength and courage from an interview with Agricola and Dagobert.
+Father d'Aigrigny knew mankind too well not to have remarked the emotion
+of the young priest, and to have endeavored to explain its cause. This
+emotion appeared to him a favorable omen; he redoubled, therefore, his
+seductive arts, his air of tenderness and amenity, reserving to himself,
+if necessary, the choice of assuming another mask. He sat down, while
+Gabriel and Rodin remained standing in a respectful position, and said
+to the former: "You desire, my dear son, to have an important interview
+with me?"
+
+"Yes, father," said Gabriel, involuntarily casting down his eyes before
+the large, glittering gray pupil of his superior.
+
+"And I also have matters of great importance to communicate to you.
+Listen to me first; you can speak afterwards."
+
+"I listen, father."
+
+"It is about twelve years ago, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny,
+affectionately, "that the confessor of your adopted mother, addressing
+himself to me through M. Rodin, called my attention to yourself, by
+reporting the astonishing progress you had made at the school of the
+Brothers. I soon found, indeed, that your excellent conduct, your
+gentle, modest character, and your precocious intelligence, were worthy
+of the most tender interest. From that moment I kept my eyes upon
+you, and at the end of some time, seeing that you did not fall off, it
+appeared to me that there was something more in you than the stuff that
+makes a workman. We agreed with your adopted mother, and through my
+intervention, you were admitted gratuitously to one of the schools of
+our Company. Thus one burden the less weighed upon the excellent woman
+who had taken charge of you, and you received from our paternal care all
+the benefits of a religious education. Is not this true, my dear son?"
+
+"It is true, father," answered Gabriel, casting down his eyes.
+
+"As you grew up, excellent and rare virtues displayed themselves in your
+character. Your obedience and mildness were above all exemplary. You
+made rapid progress in your studies. I knew not then to what career you
+wished to devote yourself, but I felt certain that, in every station of
+life, you would remain a faithful son of the Church. I was not deceived
+in my hopes, or rather, my dear son, you surpassed them all. Learning,
+by a friendly communication, that your adopted mother ardently desired
+to see you take orders, you acceded generously and religiously to the
+wish of the excellent woman to whom you owed so much. But as the Lord is
+always just in His recompenses, He willed that the most touching work of
+gratitude you could show to your adopted mother, should at the same time
+be divinely profitable by making you one of the militant members of our
+holy Church."
+
+At these words, Gabriel could not repress a significant start, as he
+remembered Frances' sad confidences. But he restrained himself, whilst
+Rodin stood leaning with his elbow on the corner of the chimney-piece,
+continuing to examine him with singular and obstinate attention.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny resumed: "I do not conceal from you, my dear son,
+that your resolution filled me with joy. I saw in you one of the future
+lights of the Church, and I was anxious to see it shine in the midst
+of our Company. You submitted courageously to our painful and difficult
+tests; you were judged worthy of belonging to us, and, after taking in
+my presence the irrevocable and sacred oath, which binds you for ever to
+our Company for the greater glory of God, you answered the appeal of our
+Holy Father(14) to willing souls, and offered yourself as a missionary,
+to preach to savages the one Catholic faith. Though it was painful to us
+to part with our dear son, we could not refuse to accede to such
+pious wishes. You set out a humble missionary you return a glorious
+martyr--and we are justly proud to reckon you amongst our number. This
+rapid sketch of the past was necessary, my dear son to arrive at what
+follows, for we wish now, if it be possible, to draw still closer the
+bonds that unite us. Listen to me, my dear son; what I am about to say
+is confidential and of the highest importance, not only for you, but the
+whole Company."
+
+"Then, father," cried Gabriel hastily, interrupting the Abbe d'Aigrigny,
+"I cannot--I ought not to hear you."
+
+The young priest became deadly pale; one saw, by the alteration of
+his features, that a violent struggle was taking place within him, but
+recovering his first resolution, he raised his head, and casting an
+assured look on Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin, who glanced at each other
+in mute surprise, he resumed: "I repeat to you, father, that if it
+concerns confidential matters of the Company, I must not hear you."
+
+"Really, my dear son, you occasion me the greatest astonishment. What
+is the matter?--Your countenance changes, your emotion is visible. Speak
+without fear; why can you not hear me?"
+
+"I cannot tell you, father, until I also have, in my turn, rapidly
+sketched the past--such as I have learned to judge it of late. You
+will then understand, father, that I am no longer entitled to your
+confidence, for an abyss will doubtlessly soon separate us."
+
+At these words, it is impossible to paint the look rapidly exchanged
+between Rodin and Father d'Aigrigny. The socius began to bite his nails,
+fixing his reptile eye angrily upon Gabriel; Father d'Aigrigny grew
+livid, and his brow was bathed in cold sweat. He asked himself with
+terror, if, at the moment of reaching the goal, the obstacle was going
+to come from Gabriel, in favor of whom all other obstacles had been
+removed. This thought filled him with despair. Yet the reverend
+father contained himself admirably, remained calm, and answered with
+affectionate unction: "It is impossible to believe, my dear son, that
+you and I can ever be separated by an abyss--unless by the abyss of
+grief, which would be caused by any serious danger to your salvation.
+But speak; I listen to you."
+
+"It is true, that, twelve years ago, father," proceeded Gabriel, in a
+firm voice, growing more animated as he proceeded, "I entered, through
+your intervention, a college of the Company of Jesus. I entered it
+loving, truthful, confiding. How did they encourage those precious
+instincts of childhood? I will tell you. The day of my entrance, the
+Superior said to me, as he pointed out two children a little older than
+myself: 'These are the companions that you will prefer. You will always
+walk three together. The rules of the house forbid all intercourse
+between two persons only. They also require, that you should listen
+attentively to what your companions say, so that you may report it to
+me; for these dear children may have, without knowing it, bad thoughts
+or evil projects. Now, if you love your comrades, you must inform me of
+these evil tendencies, that my paternal remonstrances may save them from
+punishment; it is better to prevent evil than to punish it.'"
+
+"Such are, indeed, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, "the rules
+of our house, and the language we hold to all our pupils on their
+entrance."
+
+"I know it, father," answered Gabriel, bitterly; "three days after,
+a poor, submissive, and credulous child, I was already a spy upon my
+comrades, hearing and remembering their conversation, and reporting it
+to the superior, who congratulated me on my zeal. What they thus made
+me do was shameful, and yet, God knows! I thought I was accomplishing a
+charitable duty. I was happy in obeying the commands of a superior whom
+I respected, and to whose words I listened, in my childish faith, as I
+should have listened to those of Heaven. One day, that I had broken some
+rule of the house, the superior said to me: 'My child, you have deserved
+a severe punishment; but you will be pardoned, if you succeed in
+surprising one of your comrades in the same fault that you have
+committed.' And for that, notwithstanding my faith and blind obedience,
+this encouragement to turn informer, from the motive of personal
+interest, might appear odious to me, the superior added. 'I speak to
+you, my child, for the sake of your comrade's salvation. Were he
+to escape punishment, his evil habits would become habitual. But by
+detecting him in a fault, and exposing him to salutary correction, you
+will have the double advantage of aiding in his salvation, and escaping
+yourself a merited punishment, which will have been remitted because of
+your zeal for your neighbor--"
+
+"Doubtless," answered Father d'Aigrigny, more and more terrified by
+Gabriel's language; "and in truth, my dear son, all this is conformable
+to the rule followed in our colleges, and to the habits of the members
+of our Company, 'who may denounce each other without prejudice to mutual
+love and charity, and only for their greater spiritual advancement,
+particularly when questioned by their superior, or commanded for the
+greater glory of God,' as our Constitution has it."
+
+"I know it," cried Gabriel; "I know it. 'Tis in the name of all that is
+most sacred amongst men, that we are encouraged to do evil."
+
+"My dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, trying to conceal his secret and
+growing terror beneath an appearance of wounded dignity, "from you to me
+these words are at least strange."
+
+At this, Rodin quitted the mantelpiece, on which he had been leaning,
+begin to walk up and down the room, with a meditative air, and without
+ceasing to bite his nails.
+
+"It is cruel to be obliged to remind you, my dear son, that your are
+indebted to us for the education you have received," added Father
+d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Such were its fruits, father," replied Gabriel. "Until then I had been
+a spy on the other children, from a sort of disinterestedness; but the
+orders of the superior made me advance another step on that shameful
+road. I had become an informer, to escape a merited punishment. And yet,
+such was my faith, my humility, my confidence, that I performed with
+innocence and candor this doubly odious part. Once, indeed, tormented by
+vague scruples, the last remains of generous aspirations that they were
+stifling within me, I asked myself if the charitable and religious end
+could justify the means, and I communicated my doubts to the superior.
+He replied, that I had not to judge, but to obey, and that to him alone
+belonged the responsibility of my acts."
+
+"Go on, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, gelding, in spite of
+himself, to the deepest dejection. "Alas! I was right in opposing your
+travel to America."
+
+"And yet it was the will of Providence, in that new, productive, and
+free country, that, enlightened by a singular chance, on past and
+present, my eyes were at length opened. Yes!" cried Gabriel, "it was in
+America that, released from the gloomy abode where I had spent so many
+years of my youth, and finding myself for the first time face to face
+with the divine majesty of Nature, in the heart of immense solitudes
+through which I journeyed--it was there that, overcome by so much
+magnificence and grandeur, I made a vow--" Here Gabriel interrupted
+himself, to continue: "Presently, father, I will explain to you that
+vow; but believe me," added the missionary, with an accent of deep
+sorrow, "it was a fatal day to me when I first learned to fear and
+condemn all that I had hitherto most revered and blessed. Oh! I assure
+you father," added Gabriel, with moist eyes, "it was not for myself
+alone, that I then wept."
+
+"I know the goodness of your heart, my dear son," replied Father
+d'Aigrigny, catching a glimpse of hope, on seeing Gabriel's emotion; "I
+fear that you have been led astray. But trust yourself to us, as to
+your spiritual fathers, and I doubt not we shall confirm your faith,
+so unfortunately shaken, and disperse the darkness which at present
+obscures your sight. Alas, my dear son, in your vain illusions, you have
+mistaken some false glimmer for the pure light of day. But go on."
+
+Whilst Father d'Aigrigny was thus speaking, Rodin stopped, took a pocket
+book from his coat, and wrote down several notes. Gabriel was becoming
+more and more pale and agitated. It required no small courage in him,
+to speak as he was speaking, for, since his journey to America, he
+had learned to estimate the formidable power of the Company. But this
+revelation of the past, looked at from the vantage-ground of a more
+enlightened present, was for the young priest the excuse, or rather the
+cause of the determination he had just signified to his superior, and
+he wished to explain all faithfully, notwithstanding the danger he
+knowingly encountered. He continued therefore, in an agitated voice:
+
+"You know, father, that the last days of my childhood, that happy age
+of frankness and innocent joy, were spent in an atmosphere of terror,
+suspicion, and restraint. Alas! how could I resign myself to the least
+impulse of confiding trust, when I was recommended to shun the looks of
+him who spoke with me, in order to hide the impression that his words
+might cause--to conceal whatever I felt, and to observe and listen to
+everything? Thus I reached the age of fifteen; by degrees, the rare
+visits that I was allowed to pay, but always in presence of one of our
+fathers, to my adopted mother and brother, were quite suppressed, so as
+to shut my heart against all soft and tender emotions. Sad and fearful
+in that large, old noiseless, gloomy house, I felt that I became more
+and more isolated from the affections and the freedom of the world.
+My time was divided between mutilated studies, without connection and
+without object, and long hours of minute devotional exercises. I ask
+you, father, did they ever seek to warm our young souls by words of
+tenderness or evangelic love? Alas, no! For the words of the divine
+Saviour--Love ye one another, they had substituted the command: Suspect
+ye one another. Did they ever, father, speak to us of our country or of
+liberty?--No! ah, no! for those words make the heart beat high; and with
+them, the heart must not beat at all. To our long hours of study and
+devotion, there only succeeded a few walks, three by three--never two
+and two--because by threes, the spy-system is more practicable, and
+because intimacies are more easily formed by two alone; and thus might
+have arisen some of those generous friendships, which also make the
+heart beat more than it should.15 And so, by the habitual repression of
+every feeling, there came a time when I could not feel at all. For six
+months, I had not seen my adopted mother and brother; they came to visit
+me at the college; a few years before, I should have received them with
+transports and tears; this time my eyes were dry, my heart was cold. My
+mother and brother quitted me weeping. The sight of this grief struck me
+and I became conscious of the icy insensibility which had been creeping
+upon me since I inhabited this tomb. Frightened at myself, I wished to
+leave it, while I had still strength to do so. Then, father, I spoke to
+you of the choice of a profession; for sometimes, in waking moments,
+I seemed to catch from afar the sound of an active and useful life,
+laborious and free, surrounded by family affections. Oh! then I felt the
+want of movement and liberty, of noble and warm emotions--of that life
+of the soul, which fled before me. I told it you, father on my
+knees, bathing your hands with my tears. The life of a workman or a
+soldier--anything would have suited me. It was then you informed me,
+that my adopted mother, to whom I owed my life--for she had taken me in,
+dying of want, and, poor herself, had shared with me the scanty bread
+of her child--admirable sacrifice for a mother!--that she," continued
+Gabriel, hesitating and casting down his eyes, for noble natures blush
+for the guilt of others, and are ashamed of the infamies of which they
+are themselves victims, "that she, that my adopted mother, had but one
+wish, one desire--"
+
+"That of seeing you takes orders, my dear son," replied Father
+d'Aigrigny; "for this pious and perfect creature hoped, that, in
+securing your salvation, she would provide for her own: but she did not
+venture to inform you of this thought, for fear you might ascribe it to
+an interested motive."
+
+"Enough, father!" said Gabriel, interrupting the Abbe d'Aigrigny, with
+a movement of involuntary indignation; "it is painful for me to hear you
+assert an error. Frances Baudoin never had such a thought."
+
+"My dear son, you are too hasty in your judgments," replied Father
+d'Aigrigny, mildly. "I tell you, that such was the one, sole thought of
+your adopted mother."
+
+"Yesterday, father, she told me all. She and I were equally deceived."
+
+"Then, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, sternly, "you take the word
+of your adopted mother before mine?"
+
+"Spare me an answer painful for both of us, father," said Gabriel,
+casting down his eyes.
+
+"Will you now tell me," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, with anxiety, "what
+you mean to--"
+
+The reverend father was unable to finish. Samuel entered the room, and
+said: "A rather old man wishes to speak to M. Rodin."
+
+"That is my name, sir," answered the socius, in surprise; "I am much
+obliged to you." But, before following the Jew, he gave to Father
+d'Aigrigny a few words written with a pencil upon one of the leaves of
+his packet-book.
+
+Rodin went out in very uneasy mood, to learn who could have come to seek
+him in the Rue Saint-Francois. Father d'Aigrigny and Gabriel were left
+alone together.
+
+(14) It is only in respect to Missions that the Jesuits acknowledge the
+papal supremacy.
+
+(15) This rule is so strict in Jesuit Colleges, that if one of three
+pupils leaves the other two, they separate out of earshot till the first
+comes back.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE RUPTURE.
+
+Plunged into a state of mortal anxiety, Father d'Aigrigny had taken
+mechanically the note written by Rodin, and held it in his hand without
+thinking of opening it. The reverend father asked himself in alarm, what
+conclusion Gabriel would draw from these recriminations upon the
+past; and he durst not make any answer to his reproaches, for fear of
+irritating the young priest, upon whose head such immense interests now
+reposed. Gabriel could possess nothing for himself, according to the
+constitutions of the Society of Jesus. Moreover, the reverend father had
+obtained from him, in favor of the Order, an express renunciation of
+all property that might ever come to him. But the commencement of his
+conversation seemed to announce so serious a change in Gabriel's views
+with regard to the Company, that he might choose to break through the
+ties which attached him to it; and in that case, he would not be legally
+bound to fulfil any of his engagements.(16) The donation would thus be
+cancelled de facto, just at the moment of being so marvellously realized
+by the possession of the immense fortune of the Rennepont family, and
+d'Aigrigny's hopes would thus be completely and for ever frustrated.
+Of all these perplexities which the reverend father had experienced
+for some time past, with regard to this inheritance, none had been more
+unexpected and terrible than this. Fearing to interrupt or question
+Gabriel, Father d'Aigrigny waited, in mute terror, the end of this
+interview, which already bore so threatening an aspect.
+
+The missionary resumed: "It is my duty, father, to continue this sketch
+of my past life, until the moment of my departure for America. You will
+understand, presently, why I have imposed on myself this obligation."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny nodded for him to proceed.
+
+"Once informed of the pretended wishes of my adopted mother, I resigned
+myself to them, though at some cost of feeling. I left the gloomy abode,
+in which I had passed my childhood and part of my youth, to enter one
+of the seminaries of the Company. My resolution was not caused by an
+irresistible religious vocation, but by a wish to discharge the sacred
+debt I owed my adopted mother. Yet the true spirit of the religion of
+Christ is so vivifying, that I felt myself animated and warmed by the
+idea of carrying out the adorable precepts of our Blessed Saviour. To my
+imagination, a seminary, instead of resembling the college where I had
+lived in painful restraint, appeared like a holy place, where all that
+was pure and warm in the fraternity of the Gospel would be applied to
+common life--where, for example, the lessons most frequently taught
+would be the ardent love of humanity, and the ineffable sweets of
+commiseration and tolerance--where the everlasting words of Christ
+would be interpreted in their broadest sense--and where, in fine, by
+the habitual exercise and expansion of the most generous sentiments, men
+were prepared for the magnificent apostolic mission of making the rich
+and happy sympathize with the sufferings of their brethren, by unveiling
+the frightful miseries of humanity--a sublime and sacred morality, which
+none are able to withstand, when it is preached with eyes full of tears,
+and hearts overflowing with tenderness and charity!"
+
+As he delivered these last words with profound emotion, Gabriel's eyes
+became moist, and his countenance shone with angelic beauty.
+
+"Such is, indeed, my dear son, the spirit of Christianity; but one must
+also study and explain the letter," answered Father d'Aigrigny, coldly.
+"It is to this study that the seminaries of our Company are specially
+destined. Now the interpretation of the letter is a work of analysis,
+discipline, and submission--and not one of heart and sentiment."
+
+"I perceive that only too well, father. On entering this new house, I
+found, alas! all my hopes defeated. Dilating for a moment, my heart soon
+sunk within me. Instead of this centre of life, affection, youth, of
+which I had dreamed. I found, in the silent and ice-cold seminary,
+the same suppression of every generous emotion, the same inexorable
+discipline, the same system of mutual prying, the same suspicion, the
+same invincible obstacles to all ties of friendship. The ardor which had
+warmed my soul for an instant soon died out; little by little, I fell
+back into the habits of a stagnant, passive, mechanical life, governed
+by a pitiless power with mechanical precision, just like the inanimate
+works of a watch."
+
+"But order, submission and regularity are the first foundations of our
+Company, my dear son."
+
+"Alas, father! it was death, not life, that I found thus organized. In
+the midst of this destruction of every generous principle, I devoted
+myself to scholastic and theological studies--gloomy studies--a wily,
+menacing, and hostile science which, always awake to ideas of peril,
+contest, and war, is opposed to all those of peace, progress, and
+liberty."
+
+"Theology, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, sternly, "is at once
+a buckler and a sword; a buckler, to protect and cover the Catholic
+faith--a sword, to attack and combat heresy."
+
+"And yet, father, Christ and His apostles knew not this subtle science:
+their simple and touching words regenerated mankind, and set freedom
+over slavery. Does not the divine code of the Gospel suffice to teach
+men to love one another? But, alas! far from speaking to us this
+language, our attention was too often occupied with wars of religion,
+and the rivers of blood that had flowed in honor of the Lord, and for
+the destruction of heresy. These terrible lessons made our life still
+more melancholy. As we grew near to manhood, our relations at the
+seminary assumed a growing character of bitterness, jealousy and
+suspicion. The habit of tale bearing against each other, applied to more
+serious subjects, engendered silent hate and profound resentments. I
+was neither better nor worse than the others. All of us, bowed down
+for years beneath the iron yoke of passive obedience, unaccustomed to
+reflection or free-will, humble and trembling before our superiors, had
+the same pale, dull, colorless disposition. At last I took orders; once
+a priest, you invited me, father, to enter the Company of Jesus, or
+rather I found myself insensibly brought to this determination. How,
+I do not know. For a long time before, my will was not my own. I went
+through all my proofs; the most terrible was decisive; for some months,
+I lived in the silence of my cell, practicing with resignation the
+strange and mechanical exercises that you ordered me. With the exception
+of your reverence, nobody approached me during that long space of time;
+no human voice but yours sounded in my ear. Sometimes, in the night,
+I felt vague terrors; my mind, weakened by fasting, austerity, and
+solitude, was impressed with frightful visions. At other times, on the
+contrary, I felt a sort of quiescence, in the idea that, having once
+pronounced my vows, I should be delivered for ever from the burden of
+thought and will. Then I abandoned myself to an insurmountable torpor,
+like those unfortunate wretches, who, surprised by a snow-storm,
+yield to a suicidal repose. Thus I awaited the fatal moment. At last,
+according to the rule of discipline, choking with the death rattle,(17)
+I hastened the moment of accomplishing the final act of my expiring
+will--the vow to renounce it for ever."
+
+"Remember, my dear son," replied Father d'Aigrigny, pale and tortured by
+increasing anguish, "remember, that, on the eve of the day fixed for
+the completion of your vows; I offered, according to the rule of our
+Company, to absolve you from joining us--leaving you completely free,
+for we accept none but voluntary vocations."
+
+"It is true, father," answered Gabriel, with sorrowful bitterness;
+"when, worn out and broken by three months of solitude and trial, I was
+completely exhausted, and unable to move a step, you opened the door
+of my cell, and said to me: 'If you like, rise and walk; you are free;
+Alas! I had no more strength. The only desire of my soul, inert and
+paralyzed for so long a period, was the repose of the grave; and
+pronouncing those irrevocable vows, I fell, like a corpse, into your
+hands."
+
+"And, till now, my dear son, you have never failed in this corpse--like
+obedience,--to use the expression of our glorious founder--because, the
+more absolute this obedience, the more meritorious it must be."
+
+After a moment's silence, Gabriel resumed: "You had always concealed
+from me, father, the true ends of the Society into which I entered. I
+was asked to abandon my free-will to my superiors, in the name of the
+Greater Glory of God. My vows once pronounced, I was to be in your hands
+a docile and obedient instrument; but I was to be employed, you told me,
+in a holy, great and beauteous work. I believed you, father--how should
+I not have believed you? but a fatal event changed my destiny--a painful
+malady caused by--"
+
+"My son," cried Father d'Aigrigny, interrupting Gabriel, "it is useless
+to recall these circumstances."
+
+"Pardon me, father, I must recall them. I have the right to be heard. I
+cannot pass over in silence any of the facts, which have led me to take
+the immutable resolution that I am about to announce to you."
+
+"Speak on, my son," said Father d'Aigrigny, frowning; for he was much
+alarmed at the words of the young priest, whose cheeks, until now pale,
+were covered with a deep blush.
+
+"Six months before my departure for America," resumed Gabriel, casting
+down his eyes, "you informed me, that I was destined to confess
+penitents; and to prepare then for that sacred ministry, you gave me a
+book."
+
+Gabriel again hesitated. His blushes increased. Father d'Aigrigny could
+scarcely restrain a start of impatience and anger.
+
+"You gave me a book," resumed the young priest, with a great effort
+to control himself, "a book containing questions to be addressed by
+a confessor to youths, and young girls, and married women, when they
+present themselves at the tribunal of penance. My God!" added Gabriel,
+shuddering at the remembrance. "I shall never forget that awful moment.
+It was night. I had retired to my chamber, taking with me this book,
+composed, you told me, by one of our fathers, and completed by a holy
+bishop.(18) Full of respect, faith, and confidence, I opened those
+pages. At first, I did not understand them--afterwards I understood--and
+then I was seized with shame and horror--struck with stupor--and had
+hardly strength to close, with trembling hand, this abominable volume.
+I ran to you, father, to accuse myself of having involuntarily cast my
+eyes on those nameless pages, which, by mistake, you had placed in my
+hands."
+
+"Remember, also, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, gravely, "that I
+calmed your scruples, and told you that a priest, who is bound to
+hear everything under the seal of confession, must be able to know and
+appreciate everything; and that our Company imposes the task of reading
+this Compendium, as a classical work, upon young deacons seminarists,
+and priests, who are destined to be confessors."
+
+"I believed you, father. In me the habit of inert obedience was so
+powerful, and I was so unaccustomed to independent reflection, that,
+notwithstanding my horror (with which I now reproached myself as with
+a crime), I took the volume back into my chamber, and read. Oh, father!
+what a dreadful revelation of criminal fancies, guilty of guiltiest in
+their refinement!"
+
+"You speak of this book in blamable terms," skid Father d'Aigrigny,
+severely; "you were the victim of a too lively imagination. It is to it
+that you must attribute this fatal impression, and not to an excellent
+work, irreproachable for its special purpose, and duly authorized by the
+Church. You are not able to judge of such a production."
+
+"I will speak of it no more, father," said Gabriel: and he thus resumed:
+"A long illness followed that terrible night. Many times, they feared
+for my reason. When I recovered, the past appeared to me like a painful
+dream. You told me, then, father, that I was not yet ripe for certain
+functions; and it was then that I earnestly entreated you to be allowed
+to go on the American missions. After having long refused my prayer,
+you at length consented. From my childhood, I had always lived in the
+college or seminary, to a state of continual restraint and subjection.
+By constantly holding down my head and eyes, I had lost the habit of
+contemplating the heavens and the splendors of nature. But, oh!
+what deep, religious happiness I felt, when I found myself suddenly
+transported to the centre of the imposing grandeur of the seas-half-way
+between the ocean and the sky!--I seemed to come forth from a place of
+thick darkness; for the first time, for many years, I felt my heart beat
+freely in my bosom; for the first time, I felt myself master of my own
+thoughts, and ventured to examine my past life, as from the summit of
+a mountain, one looks down into a gloomy vale. Then strange doubts rose
+within me. I asked myself by what right, and for what end, any beings
+had so long repressed, almost annihilated, the exercise of my will, of
+my liberty, of my reason, since God had endowed me with these gifts. But
+I said to myself, that perhaps, one day, the great, beauteous, and holy
+work, in which I was to have my share, would be revealed to me, and
+would recompense my obedience and resignation."
+
+At this moment, Rodin re-entered the room. Father d'Aigrigny questioned
+him with a significant look. The socius approached, and said to him in
+a low voice, so, that Gabriel could not hear: "Nothing serious. It was
+only to inform me, that Marshal Simon's father is arrived at M. Hardy's
+factory."
+
+Then, glancing at Gabriel, Rodin appeared to interrogate Father
+d'Aigrigny, who hung his head with a desponding air. Yet he resumed,
+again addressing Gabriel, whilst Rodin took his old place, with his
+elbow on the chimney-piece: "Go on, my dear son. I am anxious to learn
+what resolution you have adopted."
+
+"I will tell you in a moment, father. I arrived at Charleston. The
+superior of our establishment in that place, to whom I imparted my
+doubts as to the object of our Society, took upon himself to clear them
+up, and unveiled it all to me with alarming frankness. He told me the
+tendency not perhaps of all the members of the Company, for a great
+number must have shared my ignorance--but the objects which our leaders
+have pertinaciously kept in view, ever since the foundation of the
+Order. I was terrified. I read the casuists. Oh, father! that was a
+new and dreadful revelation, when, at every page, I read the excuse and
+justification of robbery, slander, adultery, perjury, murder, regicide.
+When I considered that I, the priest of a God of charity, justice,
+pardon, and love, was to belong henceforth to a Company, whose chiefs
+professed and glorified in such doctrines, I made a solemn oath to break
+for ever the ties which bound me to it!"(19)
+
+On these words of Gabriel, Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin exchanged a look
+of terror. All was lost; their prey had escaped them. Deeply moved by
+the remembrances he recalled, Gabriel did not perceive the action of
+the reverend father and the socius, and thus continued: "In spite of my
+resolution, father, to quit the Company, the discovery I had made was
+very painful to me. Oh! believe me, for the honest and loving soul,
+nothing is more frightful than to have to renounce what it has long
+respected!--I suffered so much, that, when I thought of the dangers of
+my mission, I hoped, with a secret joy, that God would perhaps take me
+to Himself under these circumstances: but, on the contrary, He watched
+over me with providential solicitude."
+
+As he said this, Gabriel felt a thrill, for he remembered a Mysterious
+Woman who had saved his life in America. After a moment's silence, he
+resumed: "My mission terminated, I returned hither to beg, father, that
+you would release me from my vows. Many times but in vain, I solicited
+an interview. Yesterday, it pleased Providence that I should have a long
+conversation with my adopted mother; from her I learned the trick by
+which my vocation had been forced upon me--and the sacrilegious abuse
+of the confessional, by which she had been induced to entrust to other
+persons the orphans that a dying mother had confided to the care of
+an honest soldier. You understand, father, that, if even I had before
+hesitated to break these bonds, what I have heard yesterday must have
+rendered my decision irrevocable. But at this solemn moment, father,
+I am bound to tell you, that I do not accuse the whole Society; many
+simple, credulous, and confiding men, like myself, must no doubt form
+part of it. Docile instruments, they see not in their blindness the work
+to which they are destined. I pity them, and pray God to enlighten them,
+as he has enlightened me."
+
+"So, my son," said Father d'Aigrigny, rising with livid and despairing
+look, "you come to ask of me to break the ties which attach you to the
+Society?"
+
+"Yes, father; you received my vows--it is for you to release me from
+them."
+
+"So, my son, you understand that engagements once freely taken by you,
+are now to be considered as null and void?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"So, my son, there is to be henceforth nothing in common between you and
+our Company?"
+
+"No, father--since I request you to absolve me of my vows."
+
+"But, you know, my son, that the Society may release you--but that you
+cannot release yourself."
+
+"The step I take proves to you, father, the importance I attach to an
+oath, since I come to you to release me from it. Nevertheless, were
+you to refuse me, I should not think myself bound in the eyes of God or
+man."
+
+"It is perfectly clear," said Father d'Aigrigny to Rodin, his voice
+expiring upon his lips, so deep was his despair.
+
+Suddenly, whilst Gabriel, with downcast eyes, waited for the answer
+of Father d'Aigrigny, who remained mute and motionless, Rodin appeared
+struck with a new idea, on perceiving that the reverend father still
+held in his hand the note written in pencil. The socius hastily
+approached Father d'Aigrigny, and said to him in a whisper, with a look
+of doubt and alarm: "Have you not read my note?"
+
+"I did not think of it," answered the reverend father, mechanically.
+
+Rodin appeared to make a great effort to repress a movement of violent
+rage. Then he said to Father d'Aigrigny, in a calm voice: "Read it now."
+
+Hardly had the reverend father cast his eyes upon this note, than
+a sudden ray of hope illumined his hitherto despairing countenance.
+Pressing the hand of the socius with an expression of deep gratitude, he
+said to him in a low voice: "You are right. Gabriel is ours."
+
+(16) The statutes formally state that the Company can expel all drones
+and wasps, but that no man can break his ties, if the Order wishes to
+retain him.
+
+(17) This is their own command. The constitution expressly bids the
+novice wait for this decisive climax of the ordeal before taking the
+vows of God.
+
+(18) It is impossible, even in Latin, to give our readers an idea of
+this infamous work.
+
+(19) This is true. See the extracts from the Compendium for the use of
+Schools, published under the title of "Discoveries by a Bibliophilist."
+Strasburg, 1843. For regicide, see Sanchez and others.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. THE CHANGE.
+
+Before again addressing Gabriel, Father d'Aigrigny carefully reflected;
+and his countenance, lately so disturbed, became gradually once more
+serene. He appeared to meditate and calculate the effects of the
+eloquence he was about to employ, upon an excellent and safe theme,
+which the socius struck with the danger of the situation, had suggested
+in a few lines rapidly written with a pencil, and which, in his despair,
+the reverend father had at first neglected. Rodin resumed his post of
+observation near the mantelpiece, on which he leaned his elbow,
+after casting at Father d'Aigrigny a glance of disdainful and angry
+superiority, accompanied by a significant shrug of the shoulders.
+
+After this involuntary manifestation, which was luckily not perceived
+by Father d'Aigrigny, the cadaverous face of the socius resumed its
+icy calmness, and his flabby eyelids, raised a moment with anger and
+impatience, fell, and half-veiled his little, dull eyes. It must be
+confessed that Father d'Aigrigny, notwithstanding the ease and elegance
+of his speech, notwithstanding the seduction of his exquisite manners,
+his agreeable features, and the exterior of an accomplished and refined
+man of the world, was often subdued and governed by the unpitying
+firmness, the diabolical craft and depth of Rodin, the old, repulsive,
+dirty, miserably dressed man, who seldom abandoned his humble part of
+secretary and mute auditor. The influence of education is so powerful,
+that Gabriel, notwithstanding the formal rupture he had just provoked,
+felt himself still intimidated in presence of Father d'Aigrigny, and
+waited with painful anxiety for the answer of the reverend father to his
+express demand to be released from his old vows. His reverence having,
+doubtless, regularly laid his plan of attack, at length broke silence,
+heaved a deep sigh, gave to his countenance, lately so severe and
+irritated, a touching expression of kindness, and said to Gabriel, in an
+affectionate voice: "Forgive me, my dear son, for having kept silence
+so long; but your abrupt determination has so stunned me, and has raised
+within me so many painful thoughts, that I have had to reflect for some
+moments, to try and penetrate the cause of this rupture, and I think
+I have succeeded. You have well considered, my dear son, the serious
+nature of the step you are taking?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"And you have absolutely decided to abandon the Society, even against my
+will?"
+
+"It would be painful to me, father--but I must resign myself to it."
+
+"It should be very painful to you, indeed, my dear son; for you took the
+irrevocable vow freely, and this vow, according to our statutes, binds
+you not to quit the Society, unless with the consent of your superiors."
+
+"I did not then know, father, the nature of the engagement I took. More
+enlightened now, I ask to withdraw myself; my only desire is to obtain
+a curacy in some village far from Paris. I feel an irresistible vocation
+for such humble and useful functions. In the country, there is so much
+misery, and such ignorance of all that could contribute to ameliorate
+the condition of the agricultural laborer, that his existence is as
+unhappy as that of a negro slave; for what liberty has he? and what
+instruction? Oh! it seems to me, that, with God's help, I might, as a
+village curate, render some services to humanity. It would therefore be
+painful to me, father, to see you refuse--"
+
+"Be satisfied, my son," answered Father d'Aigrigny; "I will no longer
+seek to combat your desire to separate yourself from us."
+
+"Then, father, you release me from my vows?"
+
+"I have not the power to do so, my dear son; but I will write
+immediately to Rome, to ask the necessary authority from our general."
+
+"I thank you, father."
+
+"Soon, my dear son, you will be delivered from these bonds, which you
+deem so heavy; and the men you abandon will not the less continue to
+pray for you, that God may preserve you from still greater wanderings.
+You think yourself released with regard to us, my dear son; but we do
+not think ourselves released with regard to you. It is not thus that we
+can get rid of the habit of paternal attachment. What would you have? We
+look upon ourselves as bound to our children, by the very benefits with
+which we have loaded them. You were poor, and an orphan; we stretched
+out our arms to you, as much from the interest which you deserved, my
+dear son, as to spare your excellent adopted mother too great a burden."
+
+"Father," said Gabriel, with suppressed emotion, "I am not ungrateful."
+
+"I wish to believe so, my dear son. For long years, we gave to you, as
+to our beloved child, food for the body and the soul. It pleases you now
+to renounce and abandon us. Not only do we consent to it--but now that I
+have penetrated the true motives of your rupture with us, it is my duty
+to release you from your vow."
+
+"Of what motives do you speak, Father?"
+
+"Alas! my dear son, I understand your fears. Dangers menace us--you know
+it well."
+
+"Dangers, father?" cried Gabriel.
+
+"It is impossible, my dear son, that you should not be aware that,
+since the fall of our legitimate sovereigns, our natural protectors,
+revolutionary impiety becomes daily more and more threatening. We
+are oppressed with persecutions. I can, therefore, comprehend and
+appreciate, my dear son, the motive which under such circumstances,
+induces you to separate from us."
+
+"Father!" cried Gabriel, with as much indignation as grief, "you do not
+think that of me--you cannot think it."
+
+Without noticing the protestations of Gabriel, Father d'Aigrigny
+continued his imaginary picture of the dangers of the Company, which,
+far from being really in peril, was already beginning secretly to
+recover its influence.
+
+"Oh! if our Company were now as powerful as it was some years ago,"
+resumed the reverend father; "if it were still surrounded by the respect
+and homage which are due to it from all true believers--in spite of the
+abominable calumnies with which we are assailed--then, my dear son, we
+should perhaps have hesitated to release you from your vows, and have
+rather endeavored to open your eyes to the light, and save you from
+the fatal delusion to which you are a prey. But now that we are weak,
+oppressed, threatened on every side, it is our duty, it is an act of
+charity, not to force you to share in perils from which you have the
+prudence to wish to withdraw yourself."
+
+So, saying, Father d'Aigrigny cast a rapid glance at his socius,
+who answered with a nod of approbation, accompanied by a movement of
+impatience that seemed to say: "Go on! go on!"
+
+Gabriel was quite overcome. There was not in the whole world a heart
+more generous, loyal, and brave than his. We may judge of what he
+must have suffered, on hearing the resolution he had come to thus
+misinterpreted.
+
+"Father," he resumed, in an agitated voice, whilst his eyes filled
+with tears, "your words are cruel and unjust. You know that I am not a
+coward."
+
+"No," said Rodin, in his sharp, cutting voice, addressing Father
+d'Aigrigny, and pointing to Gabriel with a disdainful look; "your dear
+son is only prudent."
+
+These words from Rodin made Gabriel start; a slight blush colored his
+pale cheeks; his large and blue eyes sparkled with a generous anger;
+then, faithful to the precepts of Christian humility and resignation,
+he conquered this irritable impulse, hung down his head, and, too much
+agitated to reply, remained silent, and brushed away an unseen tear.
+This tear did not escape the notice of the socius. He saw in it no
+doubt, a favorable symptom, for he exchanged a glance of satisfaction
+with Father d'Aigrigny. The latter was about to touch on a question of
+great interest, so, notwithstanding his self-command, his voice trembled
+slightly; but encouraged, or rather pushed on by a look from Rodin,
+who had become extremely attentive, he said to Gabriel: "Another motive
+obliges us not to hesitate in releasing you from your vow, my dear son.
+It is a question of pure delicacy. You probably learned yesterday
+from your adopted mother, that you will perhaps be called upon to take
+possession of an inheritance, of which the value is unknown."
+
+Gabriel raised his head hastily and said to Father d'Aigrigny: "As I
+have already stated to M. Rodin, my adopted mother only talked of her
+scruples of conscience, and I was completely ignorant of the existence
+of the inheritance of which you speak."
+
+The expression of indifference with which the young priest pronounced
+these last words, was remarked by Rodin.
+
+"Be it so," replied Father d'Aigrigny. "You were not aware of it--I
+believe you--though all appearances would tend to prove the contrary--to
+prove, indeed, that the knowledge of this inheritance was not
+unconnected with your resolution to separate from us."
+
+"I do not understand you, Father."
+
+"It is very simple. Your rupture with us would then have two motives.
+First, we are in danger, and you think it prudent to leave us--"
+
+"Father!"
+
+"Allow me to finish, my dear son, and come to the second motive. If I
+am deceived, you can tell me so. These are the facts. Formerly, on the
+hypothesis that your family, of which you knew nothing, might one day
+leave you some property, you made, in return for the care bestowed on
+you by the Company, a free gift of all you might hereafter possess, not
+to us--but to the poor, of whom we are the born shepherds."
+
+"Well, father?" asked Gabriel, not seeing to what this preamble tended.
+
+"Well, my dear son--now that you are sure of enjoying a competence, you
+wish, no doubt, by separating from us, to annul this donation made under
+other circumstances."
+
+"To speak plainly, you violate your oath, because we are persecuted,
+and because you wish to take back your gifts," added Rodin, in a
+sharp voice, as if to describe in the clearest and plainest manner the
+situation of Gabriel with regard to the Society.
+
+At this infamous accusation, Gabriel could only raise his hands and eyes
+to heaven, and exclaim, with an expression of despair, "Oh, heaven!"
+
+Once more exchanging a look of intelligence with Rodin, Father
+d'Aigrigny said to him, in a severe tone, as if reproaching him for his
+too savage frankness: "I think you go too far. Our dear son could only
+have acted in the base and cowardly manner you suggest, had he known his
+position as an heir; but, since he affirms the contrary, we are bound to
+believe him--in spite of appearances."
+
+"Father," said Gabriel, pale, agitated trembling, and with half
+suppressed grief and indignation, "I thank you, at least, for having
+suspended your judgment. No, I am not a coward; for heaven is my
+witness, that I knew of no danger to which the Society was exposed. Nor
+am I base and avaricious; for heaven is also my witness, that only at
+this moment I learn from you, father, that I may be destined to inherit
+property, and--"
+
+"One word, my dear son. It is quite lately that I became informed of
+this circumstance, by the greatest chance in the world," said Father
+d'Aigrigny, interrupting Gabriel; "and that was thanks to some family
+papers which your adopted mother had given to her confessor, and which
+were entrusted to us when you entered our college. A little before your
+return from America, in arranging the archives of the Company, your file
+of papers fell into the hands of our father-attorney. It was examined,
+and we thus learned that one of your paternal ancestors, to whom the
+house in which we now are belonged, left a will which is to be opened to
+day at noon. Yesterday, we believed you one of us; our statutes command
+that we should possess nothing of our own; you had corroborated those
+statutes, by a donation in favor of the patrimony of the poor--which we
+administer. It was no longer you, therefore, but the Company, which, in
+my person, presented itself as the inheritor in your place, furnished
+with your titles, which I have here ready in order. But now, my clear
+son, that you separate from us, you must present yourself in your own
+name. We came here as the representatives of the poor, to whom in former
+days you piously abandoned whatever goods might fall to your share. Now,
+on the contrary, the hope of a fortune changes your sentiments. You are
+free to resume your gifts."
+
+Gabriel had listened to Father d'Aigrigny with painful impatience. At
+length he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say, father, that you think me
+capable of canceling a donation freely made, in favor of the Company, to
+which I am indebted for my education? You believe me infamous enough to
+break my word, in the hope of possessing a modest patrimony?"
+
+"This patrimony, my dear, son, may be small; but it may also be
+considerable."
+
+"Well, father! if it were a king's fortune," cried Gabriel, with proud
+and noble indifference, "I should not speak otherwise--and I have,
+I think, the right to be believed listen to my fixed resolution. The
+Company to which I belong runs, you say, great dangers. I will inquire
+into these dangers. Should they prove threatening--strong in the
+determination which morally separates me from you--I will not leave you
+till I see the end of your perils. As for the inheritance, of which you
+believe me so desirous, I resign it to you formally, father, as I once
+freely promised. My only wish is, that this property may be employed
+for the relief of the poor. I do not know what may be the amount of this
+fortune, but large or small, it belongs to the Company, because I have
+thereto pledged my word. I have told you, father, that my chief
+desire is to obtain a humble curacy in some poor village--poor, above
+all--because there my services will be most useful. Thus, father, when a
+man, who never spoke falsehood in his life, affirms to you, that he only
+sighs for so humble an existence, you ought, I think, to believe him
+incapable of snatching back, from motives of avarice, gifts already
+made."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny had now as much trouble to restrain his joy, as he
+before had to conceal his terror. He appeared, however, tolerably calm,
+and said to Gabriel: "I did not expect less from you, my dear son."
+
+Then he made a sign to Rodin, to invite him to interpose. The latter
+perfectly understood his superior. He left the chimney, drew near
+to Gabriel, and leaned against the table, upon which stood paper and
+inkstand. Then, beginning mechanically to beat the tattoo with the tips
+of his coarse fingers, in all their array of flat and dirty nails, he
+said to Father d'Aigrigny: "All this is very fine! but your dear son
+gives you no security for the fulfilment of his promise except an
+oath--and that, we know, is of little value."
+
+"Sir!" cried Gabriel
+
+"Allow me," said Rodin, coldly. "The law does not acknowledge our
+existence and therefore can take no cognizance of donations made in
+favor of the Company. You might resume to-morrow what you are pleased to
+give us to-day."
+
+"But my oath, sir!" cried Gabriel.
+
+Rodin looked at him fixedly, as he answered: "Your oath? Did you not
+swear eternal obedience to the Company, and never to separate from
+us?--and of what weight now are these oaths?"
+
+For a moment Gabriel was embarrassed; but, feeling how false was this
+logic, he rose, calm and dignified, went to seat himself at the desk,
+took up a pen, and wrote as follows:
+
+"Before God, who sees and hears me, and in the presence of you, Father
+d'Aigrigny and M. Rodin, I renew and confirm, freely and voluntarily,
+the absolute donation made by me to the Society of Jesus, in the person
+of the said Father d'Aigrigny, of all the property which may hereafter
+belong to me, whatever may be its value. I swear, on pain of infamy, to
+perform tis irrevocable promise, whose accomplishment I regard, in my
+soul and conscience, as the discharge of a debt, and the fulfilment of a
+pious duty.
+
+"This donation having for its object the acknowledgment of past
+services, and the relief of the poor, no future occurrences can at
+all modify it. For the very reason that I know I could one day legally
+cancel the present free and deliberate act, I declare, that if ever I
+were to attempt such a thing, under any possible circumstances, I should
+deserve the contempt and horror of all honest people.
+
+"In witness whereof I have written this paper, on the 13th of February,
+1832, in Paris, immediately before the opening of the testament of one
+of my paternal ancestors.
+
+"GABRIEL DE RENNEPONT."
+
+As he rose, the young priest delivered this document to Rodin, without
+uttering a word. The socius read it attentively, and, still impassible,
+answered, as he looked at Gabriel: "Well, it is a written oath--that is
+all."
+
+Gabriel dwelt stupefied at the audacity of Rodin, who ventured to tell
+him, that this document, in which he renewed his donation in so noble,
+generous, and spontaneous a manner, was not all sufficient. The
+socius was the first again to break the silence, and he said to Father
+d'Aigrigny, with his usual cool impudence. "One of two things must be.
+Either your dear son means to render his donation absolutely valuable
+and irrevocable,--or--"
+
+"Sir," exclaimed Gabriel, interrupting him, and hardly able to restrain
+himself, "spare yourself and me such a shameful supposition."
+
+"Well, then," resumed Rodin, impassible as ever, "as you are perfectly
+decided to make this donation a serious reality, what objection can you
+have to secure it legally?"
+
+"None, sir," said Gabriel, bitterly, "since my written and sworn promise
+will not suffice you."
+
+"My dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, affectionately, "if this were
+a donation for my own advantage, believe me I should require no better
+security than your word. But here I am, as it were, the agent of the
+Society, or rather the trustee of the poor, who will profit by your
+generosity. For the sake of humanity, therefore, we cannot secure this
+gift by too many legal precautions, so that the unfortunate objects of
+our care may have certainty instead of vague hopes to depend upon. God
+may call you to him at any moment, and who shall say that your heirs
+will be so ready to keep the oath you have taken?"
+
+"You are right, father," said Gabriel, sadly; "I had not thought of the
+case of death, which is yet so probable."
+
+Hereupon, Samuel opened the door of the room, and said: "Gentlemen, the
+notary has just arrived. Shall I show him in? At ten o'clock precisely,
+the door of the house will be opened."
+
+"We are the more glad to see the notary," said Rodin, "as we just happen
+to have some business with him. Pray ask him to walk in."
+
+"I will bring him to you instantly," replied Samuel, as he went out.
+
+"Here is a notary," said Rodin to Gabriel. "If you have still the same
+intentions, you can legalize your donation in presence of this public
+officer, and thus save yourself from a great burden for the future."
+
+"Sir," said Gabriel, "happen what may, I am as irrevocably engaged by
+this written promise, which I beg you to keep, father"--and he handed
+the paper to Father d'Aigrigny "as by the legal document, which I am
+about to sign," he added, turning to Rodin.
+
+"Silence, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny; "here is the notary,"
+just as the latter entered the room.
+
+During the interview of the administrative officer with Rodin, Gabriel,
+and Father d'Aigrigny, we shall conduct the reader to the interior of
+the walled-up house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE RED ROOM.
+
+As Samuel had said, the door of the walled-up house had just been
+disencumbered of the bricks, lead, and iron, which had kept it from
+view, and its panels of carved oak appeared as fresh and sound, as on
+the day when they had first been withdrawn from the influence of the air
+and time. The laborers, having completed their work, stood waiting
+upon the steps, as impatient and curious as the notary's clerk, who
+had superintended the operation, when they saw Samuel slowly advancing
+across the garden, with a great bunch of keys in his hand.
+
+"Now, my friends," said the old man, when he had reached the steps,
+"your work is finished. The master of this gentleman will pay you, and I
+have only to show you out by the street door."
+
+"Come, come, my good fellow," cried the clerk, "you don't think. We
+are just at the most interesting and curious moment; I and these honest
+masons are burning to see the interior of this mysterious house, and you
+would be cruel enough to send us away? Impossible!"
+
+"I regret the necessity, sir, but so it must he. I must be the first to
+enter this dwelling, absolutely alone, before introducing the heirs, in
+order to read the testament."
+
+"And who gave you such ridiculous and barbarous orders?" cried the
+clerk, singularly disappointed.
+
+"My father, sir."
+
+"A most respectable authority, no doubt; but come, my worthy guardian,
+my excellent guardian," resumed the clerk, "be a good fellow, and let us
+just take a peep in at the door."
+
+"Yes, yes, sir, only a peep!" cried the heroes of the trowel, with a
+supplicating air.
+
+"It is disagreeable to have to refuse you, gentlemen," answered Samuel;
+"but I cannot open this door, until I am alone."
+
+The masons, seeing the inflexibility of the old man, unwillingly
+descended the steps; but the clerk had resolved to dispute the ground
+inch by inch, and exclaimed: "I shall wait for my master. I do not leave
+the house without him. He may want me--and whether I remain on these
+steps or elsewhere, can be of little consequence to you my worthy
+keeper."
+
+The clerk was interrupted in his appeal by his master himself, who
+called out from the further side of the courtyard, with an air of
+business: "M. Piston! quick, M. Piston--come directly!"
+
+"What the devil does he want with me?" cried the clerk, in a passion.
+"He calls me just at the moment when I might have seen something."
+
+"M. Piston," resumed the voice, approaching, "do you not hear?"
+
+While Samuel let out the masons, the clerk saw, through a clump of
+trees, his master running towards him bareheaded, and with an air of
+singular haste and importance. The clerk was therefore obliged to leave
+the steps, to answer the notary's summons, towards whom he went with a
+very bad grace.
+
+"Sir, sir," said M. Dumesnil, "I have been calling you this hour with
+all my might."
+
+"I did not hear you sir," said M. Piston.
+
+"You must be deaf, then. Have you any change about you?"
+
+"Yes sir," answered the clerk, with some surprise.
+
+"Well, then, you must go instantly to the nearest stamp-office, and
+fetch me three or four large sheets of stamped paper, to draw up a deed.
+Run! it is wanted directly."
+
+"Yes, sir," said the clerk, casting a rueful and regretful glance at the
+door of the walled-up house.
+
+"But make haste, will you, M. Piston," said the notary.
+
+"I do not know, sir, where to get any stamped paper."
+
+"Here is the guardian," replied M. Dumesnil. "He will no doubt be able
+to tell you."
+
+At this instant, Samuel was returning, after showing the masons out by
+the street-door.
+
+"Sir," said the notary to him, "will you please to tell me where we can
+get stamped paper?"
+
+"Close by, sir," answered Samuel; "in the tobacconist's, No. 17, Rue
+Vieille-du-Temple."
+
+"You hear, M. Piston?" said the notary to his clerk. "You can get the
+stamps at the tobacconist's, No. 17, Rue Vieille-du-Temple. Be quick!
+for this deed must be executed immediately before the opening of the
+will. Time presses."
+
+"Very well, sir; I will make haste," answered the clerk, discontentedly,
+as he followed his master, who hurried back into the room where he had
+left Rodin, Gabriel, and Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+During this time, Samuel, ascending the steps, had reached the door,
+now disencumbered of the stone, iron, and lead with which it had been
+blocked up. It was with deep emotion that the old man having selected
+from his bunch of keys the one he wanted, inserted it in the keyhole,
+and made the door turn upon its hinges. Immediately he felt on his
+face a current of damp, cold air, like that which exhales from a cellar
+suddenly opened. Having carefully re-closed and double-locked the door,
+the Jew advanced along the hall, lighted by a glass trefoil over the
+arch of the door. The panes had lost their transparency by the effect of
+time, and now had the appearance of ground-glass. This hall, paved with
+alternate squares of black and white marble, was vast, sonorous, and
+contained a broad staircase leading to the first story. The walls of
+smooth stone offered not the least appearance of decay or dampness; the
+stair-rail of wrought iron presented no traces of rust; it was inserted,
+just above the bottom step, into a column of gray granite, which
+sustained a statue of black marble, representing a negro bearing a
+flambeau. This statue had a strange countenance, the pupils of the eyes
+being made of white marble.
+
+The Jew's heavy tread echoed beneath the lofty dome of the hall.
+The grandson of Isaac Samuel experienced a melancholy feeling, as he
+reflected that the footsteps of his ancestor had probably been the last
+which had resounded through this dwelling, of which he had closed the
+doors a hundred and fifty years before; for the faithful friend,
+in favor of whom M. de Rennepont had made a feigned transfer of the
+property, had afterwards parted with the same, to place it in the name
+of Samuel's grandfather, who had transmitted it to his descendants, as
+if it had been his own inheritance.
+
+To these thoughts, in which Samuel was wholly absorbed, was joined the
+remembrance of the light seen that morning through the seven openings in
+the leaden cover of the belvedere; and, in spite of the firmness of his
+character, the old man could not repress a shudder, as, taking a second
+key from his bunch, and reading upon the label, The Key of the Red
+Room, he opened a pair of large folding doors, leading to the inner
+apartments. The window which, of all those in the house, had alone been
+opened, lighted this large room, hung with damask, the deep purple of
+which had undergone no alteration. A thick Turkey carpet covered the
+floor, and large arm-chairs of gilded wood, in the severe Louis XIV.
+style, were symmetrically arranged along the wall. A second door,
+leading to the next room, was just opposite the entrance. The
+wainscoting and the cornice were white, relieved with fillets and
+mouldings of burnished gold. On each side of this door was a large
+piece of buhl-furniture, inlaid with brass and porcelain, supporting
+ornamental sets of sea crackle vases. The window was hung with heavy
+deep-fringed damask curtains, surmounted by scalloped drapery, with
+silk tassels, directly opposite the chimney-piece of dark-gray marble,
+adorned with carved brass-work. Rich chandeliers, and a clock in the
+same style as the furniture, were reflected in a large Venice glass,
+with basiled edges. A round table, covered with a cloth of crimson
+velvet, was placed in the centre of this saloon.
+
+As he approached this table, Samuel perceived a piece of white vellum,
+on which were inscribed these words: "My testament is to be opened in
+this saloon. The other apartments are to remain closed, until after the
+reading of my last will--M. De R."
+
+"Yes," said the Jew, as he perused with emotion these lines traced so
+long ago; "this is the same recommendation as that which I received from
+my father; for it would seem that the other apartments of this house are
+filled with objects, on which M. de Rennepont set a high value, not for
+their intrinsic worth, but because of their origin. The Hall of Mourning
+must be a strange and mysterious chamber. Well," added Samuel, as he
+drew from his pocket a register bound in black shagreen, with a brass
+lock, from which he drew the key, after placing it upon the table, "here
+is the statement of the property in hand, which I have been ordered to
+bring hither, before the arrival of the heirs."
+
+The deepest silence reigned in the room, at the moment when Samuel
+placed the register on the table. Suddenly a simple and yet most
+startling occurrence roused him from his reverie. In the next apartment
+was heard the clear, silvery tone of a clock, striking slowly ten. And
+the hour was ten! Samuel had too much sense to believe in perpetual
+motion, or in the possibility of constructing a clock to go far one
+hundred and fifty years. He asked himself, therefore, with surprise and
+alarm, how this clock could still be going, and how it could mark so
+exactly the hour of the day. Urged with restless curiosity, the old man
+was about to enter the room; but recollecting the recommendation of his
+father, which had now been confirmed by the few lines he had just read
+from De Rennepont's pen, he stopped at the door, and listened with
+extreme attention.
+
+He heard nothing--absolutely nothing, but the last dying vibration of
+the clock. After having long reflected upon this strange fact, Samuel,
+comparing it with the no less extraordinary circumstance of the light
+perceived that morning through the apertures in the belvedere, concluded
+that there must be some connection between these two incidents. If
+the old man could not penetrate the true cause of these extraordinary
+appearances, he at least explained them to himself, by remembering the
+subterraneous communications, which, according to tradition, were said
+to exist between the cellars of this house and distant places; and he
+conjectured that unknown and mysterious personages thus gained access
+to it two or three times in a century. Absorbed in these thoughts Samuel
+approached the fireplace, which, as we have said, was directly opposite
+the window. Just then, a bright ray of sunlight, piercing the clouds,
+shone full upon two large portraits, hung upon either side of the
+fireplace, and not before remarked by the Jew. They were painted life
+size, and represented one a woman, the other a man. By the sober yet
+powerful coloring of these paintings, by the large and vigorous style,
+it was easy to recognize a master's hand. It would have been difficult
+to find models more fitted to inspire a great painter. The woman
+appeared to be from five-and-twenty to thirty years of age. Magnificent
+brown hair, with golden tints, crooned a forehead, white, noble, and
+lofty. Her head-dress, far from recalling the fashion, which Madame de
+Sevigne brought in during the age of Louis XIV., reminded one rather of
+some of the portraits of Paul Veronese, in which the hair encircles the
+face in broad, undulating bands, surmounted by a thick plait, like a
+crown, at the back of the head. The eyebrows, finely pencilled, were
+arched over large eyes of bright, sapphire blue. Their gaze at once
+proud and mournful, had something fatal about it. The nose, finely
+formed, terminated in slight dilated nostrils: a half smile, almost
+of pain, contracted the mouth; the face was a long oval, and the
+complexion, extremely pale, was hardly shaded on the cheek by a light
+rose-color. The position of the head and neck announced a rare mixture
+of grace and dignity. A sort of tunic or robe, of glossy black material,
+came as high as the commencement of her shoulders, and just marking
+her lithe and tall figure, reached down to her feet, which were almost
+entirely concealed by the folds of this garment.
+
+The attitude was full of nobleness and simplicity. The head looked white
+and luminous, standing out from a dark gray sky, marbled at the horizon
+by purple clouds, upon which were visible the bluish summits of distant
+hills, in deep shadow. The arrangement of the picture, as well as the
+warm tints of the foreground, contrasting strongly with these distant
+objects, showed that the woman was placed upon an eminence, from which
+she could view the whole horizon. The countenance was deeply pensive and
+desponding. There was an expression of supplicating and resigned grief,
+particularly in her look, half raised to heaven, which one would have
+thought impossible to picture. On the left side of the fireplace was the
+other portrait, painted with like vigor. It represented a man, between
+thirty and thirty-five years of age, of tall stature. A large brown
+cloak, which hung round him in graceful folds, did not quite conceal a
+black doublet, buttoned up to the neck, over which fell a square white
+collar. The handsome and expressive head was marked with stern powerful
+lines, which did not exclude an admirable air of suffering, resignation,
+and ineffable goodness. The hair, as well as the beard and eyebrows, was
+black; and the latter, by some singular caprice of nature, instead
+of being separated and forming two distinct arches, extended from one
+temple to the other, in a single bow, and seemed to mark the forehead of
+this man with a black line.
+
+The background of this picture also represented a stormy sky; but,
+beyond some rocks in the distance, the sea was visible, and appeared to
+mingle with the dark clouds. The sun, just now shining upon these two
+remarkable figures (which it appeared impossible to forget, after once
+seeing them), augmented their brilliancy.
+
+Starting from his reverie, and casting his eyes by chance upon these
+portraits, Samuel was greatly struck with them. They appeared almost
+alive. "What noble and handsome faces!" he exclaimed, as he approached
+to examine them more closely. "Whose are these portraits? They are not
+those of any of the Rennepont family, for my father told me that they
+are all in the Hall of Mourning. Alas!" added the old man, "one might
+think, from the great sorrow expressed in their countenances, that they
+ought to have a place in that mourning-chamber."
+
+After a moment's silence, Samuel resumed: "Let me prepare everything for
+this solemn assembly, for it has struck ten." So saying, he placed the
+gilded arm-chairs round the table, and then continued, with a pensive
+air: "The hour approaches, and of the descendants of my grandfather's
+benefactor, we have seen only this young priest, with the angelic
+countenance. Can he be the sole representative of the Rennepont family?
+He is a priest, and this family will finish with him! Well! the moment
+is come when I must open this door, that the will may be read. Bathsheba
+is bringing hither the notary. They knock at the door; it is time!" And
+Samuel, after casting a last glance towards the place where the clock
+had struck ten, hastened to the outer door, behind which voices were now
+audible.
+
+He turned the key twice in the lock, and threw the portals open. To his
+great regret, he saw only Gabriel on the steps, between Rodin and Father
+d'Aigrigny. The notary, and Bathsheba, who had served them as a guide,
+waited a little behind the principal group.
+
+Samuel could not repress a sigh, as he stood bowing on the threshold,
+and said to them: "All is ready, gentlemen. You may walk in."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. THE TESTAMENT.
+
+When Gabriel, Rodin, and Father d'Aigrigny entered the Red Room, they
+were differently affected. Gabriel, pale and sad, felt a kind of painful
+impatience. He was anxious to quit this house, though he had already
+relieved himself of a great weight, by executing before the notary,
+secured by every legal formality, a deed making over all his rights of
+inheritance to Father d'Aigrigny. Until now it had not occurred to the
+young priest, that in bestowing the care upon him, which he was about
+to reward so generously, and in forcing his vocation by a sacrilegious
+falsehood, the only object of Father d'Aigrigny might have been to
+secure the success of a dark intrigue. In acting as he did, Gabriel was
+not yielding, in his view of the question, to a sentiment of exaggerated
+delicacy. He had made this donation freely, many years before. He would
+have looked upon it as infamy now to withdraw it. It was hard enough
+to be suspected of cowardice: for nothing in the world would he have
+incurred the least reproach of cupidity.
+
+The missionary must have been endowed with a very rare and excellent
+nature, or this flower of scrupulous probity would have withered
+beneath the deleterious and demoralizing influence of his education; but
+happily, as cold sometimes preserves from corruption, the icy atmosphere
+in which he had passed a portion of his childhood and youth had
+benumbed, but not vitiated, his generous qualities, which had indeed
+soon revived in the warm air of liberty. Father d'Aigrigny, much paler
+and more agitated than Gabriel, strove to excuse and explain his anxiety
+by attributing it to the sorrow he experienced at the rupture of his
+dear son with the Order. Rodin, calm, and perfectly master of himself,
+saw with secret rage the strong emotion of Father d'Aigrigny, which
+might have inspired a man less confiding than Gabriel with strange
+suspicions. Yet, notwithstanding his apparent indifference, the socius
+was perhaps still more ardently impatient than his superior for the
+success of this important affair. Samuel appeared quite desponding, no
+other heir but Gabriel having presented himself. No doubt the old man
+felt a lively sympathy for the young priest; but then he was a priest,
+and with him would finish the line of Rennepont; and this immense
+fortune, accumulated with so much labor, would either be again
+distributed, or employed otherwise than the testator had desired. The
+different actors in this scene were standing around the table. As they
+were about to seat themselves, at the invitation of the notary, Samuel
+pointed to the register bound in black shagreen, and said: "I was
+ordered, sir, to deposit here this register. It is locked. I will
+deliver up the key, immediately after the reading of the will."
+
+"This course is, in fact, directed by the note which accompanies the
+will," said M. Dumesnil, "as it was deposited, in the year 1682, in the
+hands of Master Thomas Le Semelier, king's counsel, and notary of the
+Chatelet of Paris, then living at No. 13, Place Royale."
+
+So saying, M. Dumesnil drew from a portfolio of red morocco a large
+parchment envelope, grown yellow with time; to this envelope was
+annexed, by a silken thread, a note also upon vellum.
+
+"Gentlemen," said the notary, "if you please to sit down, I will read
+the subjoined note, to regulate the formalities at the opening of the
+will."
+
+The notary, Rodin, Father d'Aigrigny, and Gabriel, took seats. The young
+priest, having his back turned to the fireplace, could not see the two
+portraits. In spite of the notary's invitation, Samuel remained standing
+behind the chair of that functionary, who read as follows:
+
+"'On the 13th February, 1832, my will shall be carried to No. 3, in the
+Rue Saint-Francois.
+
+"'At ten o'clock precisely, the door of the Red Room shall be opened
+to my heirs, who will no doubt have arrived long before at Paris, in
+anticipation of this day, and will have had time to establish their line
+of descent.
+
+"'As soon as they are assembled, the will shall be read, and, at the
+last stroke of noon, the inheritance shall be finally settled in favor
+of those of my kindred, who according to my recommendation (preserved,
+I hope, by tradition in my family, during a century and a half); shall
+present themselves in person, and not by agents, before twelve o'clock,
+on the 13th of February, in the Rue Saint-Francois.'"
+
+Having read these words in a sonorous voice, the notary stopped an
+instant, and resumed, in a solemn tone: "M. Gabriel Francois Marie de
+Rennepont, priest, having established, by legal documents, his descent
+on the father's side, and his relationship to the testator, and being at
+this hour the only one of the descendants of the Rennepont family here
+present, I open the testament in his presence, as it has been ordered."
+
+So saying, the notary drew from its envelope the will, which had been
+previously opened by the President of the Tribunal, with the formalities
+required by law. Father d'Aigrigny leaned forward, and resting his elbow
+on the table, seemed to pant for breath. Gabriel prepared himself to
+listen with more curiosity than interest. Rodin was seated at some
+distance from the table, with his old hat between his knees, in the
+bottom of which, half hidden by the folds of a shabby blue cotton
+handkerchief, he had placed his watch. The attention of the socius was
+divided between the least noise from without, and the slow evolution of
+the hands of the watch, which he followed with his little, wrathful eye,
+as if hastening their progress, so great was his impatience for the hour
+of noon.
+
+The notary, unfolding the sheet of parchment, read what follows, in the
+midst of profound attention:
+
+Hameau de Villetaneuse,
+
+"'February 13th, 1682.
+
+"'I am about to escape, by death, from the disgrace of the galleys, to
+which the implacable enemies of my family have caused me to be condemned
+as a relapsed heretic.
+
+"'Moreover, life is too bitter for me since the death of my son, the
+victim of a mysterious crime.
+
+"'At nineteen years of age--poor henry!--and his murderers unknown--no,
+not unknown--if I may trust my presentiments.
+
+"'To preserve my fortune for my son, I had feigned to abjure the
+Protestant faith. As long as that beloved boy lived, I scrupulously kept
+up Catholic appearances. The imposture revolted me, but the interest of
+my son was concerned.
+
+"'When they killed him, this deceit became insupportable to me. I
+was watched, accused, and condemned as relapsed. My property has been
+confiscated, and I am sentenced to the galleys.
+
+"'Tis a terrible time we live in! Misery and servitude! sanguinary
+despotism and religious intolerance! Oh, it is sweet to abandon life!
+sweet to rest and see no more such evils and such sorrows!
+
+"'In a few hours, I shall enjoy that rest. I shall die. Let me think
+of those who will survive--or rather, of those who will live perhaps in
+better times.
+
+"'Out of all my fortune, there remains to me a sum of fifty thousand
+crowns, deposited in a friend's hands.
+
+"'I have no longer a son; but I have numerous relations, exiled in
+various parts of Europe. This sum of fifty thousand crowns, divided
+between them, would profit each of them very little. I have disposed of
+it differently.
+
+"'In this I have followed the wise counsels of a man, whom I venerate
+as the image of God on earth, for his intelligence, wisdom, and goodness
+are almost divine.
+
+"'Twice in the course of my life have I seen this man, under very fatal
+circumstances--twice have I owed him safety, once of the soul, once of
+the body.
+
+"'Alas! he might perhaps have saved my poor child, but he came too
+late--too late.
+
+"'Before he left me, he wished to divert me from the intention of
+dying--for he knew all. But his voice was powerless. My grief, my
+regret, my discouragement, were too much for him.
+
+"'It is strange! when he was convinced of my resolution to finish my
+days by violence, some words of terrible bitterness escaped him, making
+me believe that he envied me--my fate--my death!
+
+"'Is he perhaps condemned to live?
+
+"'Yes; he has, no doubt, condemned himself to be useful to humanity,
+and yet life is heavy on him, for I heard him repeat one day, with an
+expression of despair and weariness that I have never forgotten: "Life!
+life! who will deliver me from it?"
+
+"'Is life then so very burdensome to him?
+
+"'He is gone. His last words have made me look for my departure with
+serenity. Thanks to him, my death shall not be without fruit.
+
+"'Thanks to him, these lines, written at this moment by a man who, in a
+few hours, will have ceased to live, may perhaps be the parents of great
+things a century and a half hence--yes! great and noble things, if my
+last will is piously followed by my descendants, for it is to them that
+I here address myself.
+
+"'That they may understand and appreciate this last will--which I
+commend to the care of the unborn, who dwell in the future whither I am
+hastening--they must know the persecutors of my family and avenge their
+ancestor, but by a noble vengeance.
+
+"'My grandfather was a Catholic. Induced by perfidious counsels rather
+than religious zeal, he attached himself, though a layman, to a Society
+whose power has always been terrible and mysterious--the Society of
+Jesus--'"
+
+At these words of the testament, Father d'Aigrigny, Rodin, and Gabriel
+looked involuntarily at each other: The notary, who had not perceived
+this action, continued to read:
+
+"'After some years, during which he had never ceased to profess the
+most absolute devotion to this Society, he was suddenly enlightened by
+fearful revelations as to the secret ends it pursued, and the means it
+employed.
+
+"'This was in 1510, a month before the assassination of Henry IV.
+"'My grandfather, terrified at the secret of which he had become the
+unwilling depositary, and which was to be fully explained by the death
+of the best of kings, not only broke with the Society, but, as if
+Catholicism itself had been answerable for the crimes of its members,
+he abandoned the Romish religion, in which he had hitherto lived, and
+became a Protestant.
+
+"'Undeniable proofs, attesting the connivance of two members of the
+Company with Ravaillac, a connivance also proved in the case of Jean
+Chatel, the regicide, were in my grandfather's possession.
+
+"'This was the first cause of the violent hatred of the Society for our
+family. Thank Heaven, these papers have been placed in safety, and if my
+last will is executed, will be found marked A. M.C. D. G., in the ebony
+casket in the Hall of Mourning, in the house in the Rue Saint-Francois.
+
+"'My father was also exposed to these secret persecutions. His ruin, and
+perhaps his death, would have been the consequence, had it not been for
+the intervention of an angelic woman, towards whom he felt an almost
+religious veneration.
+
+"'The portrait of this woman, whom I saw a few years ago, as well as
+that of the man whom I hold in the greatest reverence, were painted
+by me from memory, and have been placed in the Red Room in the Rue
+Saint-Francois--to be gratefully valued, I hope, by the descendants of
+my family.'"
+
+For some moments Gabriel had become more and more attentive to the
+reading of this testament. He thought within himself by how strange a
+coincidence one of his ancestors had, two centuries before, broken with
+the Society of Jesus, as he himself had just done; and that from this
+rupture, two centuries old, dated also that species of hatred with which
+the Society of Jesus had always pursued his family. Nor did the young
+priest find it less strange that this inheritance, transmitted to him
+after a lapse of a hundred and fifty years, from one of his kindred (the
+victim of the Society of Jesus), should return by a voluntary act to the
+coffers of this same society. When the notary read the passage relative
+to the two portraits, Gabriel, who, like Father d'Aigrigny, sat with his
+back towards the pictures, turned round to look at them. Hardly had the
+missionary cast his eyes on the portrait of the woman, than he uttered
+a loud cry of surprise, and almost terror. The notary paused in his
+reading, and looked uneasily at the young priest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE LAST STROKE OF NOON.
+
+At the cry uttered by Gabriel, the notary had stopped reading the
+testament, and Father d'Aigrigny hastily drew near the young priest. The
+latter rose trembling from his seat and gazed with increasing stupor at
+the female portrait.
+
+Then he said in a low voice, as if speaking to himself. "Good Heaven!
+is it possible that nature can produce such resemblances? Those eyes--so
+proud and yet so sad--that forehead--that pale complexion--yes, all her
+features, are the same--all of them!"
+
+"My dear son, what is the matter?" said Father d'Aigrigny, as astonished
+as Samuel and the notary.
+
+"Eight months ago," replied the missionary, in a voice of deep emotion,
+without once taking his eyes from the picture, "I was in the power of
+the Indians, in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. They had crucified,
+and were beginning to scalp me; I was on the point of death, when Divine
+Providence sent me unexpected aid--sent me this woman for a deliverer."
+
+"That woman!" cried Samuel, Father d'Aigrigny, and the notary, all
+together.
+
+Rodin alone appeared completely indifferent to this episode of the
+picture. His face contracted with angry impatience, he bit his nails to
+the quick, as he contemplated with agony the slow progress of the hands
+of his watch.
+
+"What! that woman saved your life?" resumed Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Yes, this woman," replied Gabriel, in a still lower and more trembling
+voice; "this woman--or rather a woman so much resembling her, that if
+this picture had not been here for a century and a half, I should have
+felt sure it was the same--nor can I explain to myself that so striking
+a resemblance could be the effect of chance. Well," added he, after
+a moment's silence, as he heaved a profound sigh, "the mysteries of
+Nature, and the will of God, are impenetrable."
+
+Gabriel fell back into his chair, in the midst of a general silence,
+which was broken by Father d'Aigrigny saying, "It is a case of
+extraordinary resemblance; that is all, my dear son. Only, the natural
+gratitude which you feel towards your benefactress, makes you take a
+deep interest in this singular coincidence."
+
+Rodin, bursting with impatience, here said to the notary, by whose side
+he stood, "It seems to me, sir, that all this little romance has nothing
+to do with the testament."
+
+"You are right," answered the notary, resuming his seat; "but the fact
+is so extraordinary, and as you say, romantic, that one cannot help
+sharing in this gentleman's astonishment."
+
+He pointed to Gabriel, who, with his elbow resting on the arms of the
+chair, leaned his forehead upon his hand, apparently quite absorbed in
+thought. The notary continued the reading of the will, as follows:
+
+"'Such are the persecutions to which my family has been exposed on the
+part of the Society of Jesus.
+
+"'The Society possesses at this hour the whole of my confiscated
+property. I am about to die. May its hatred perish with me, and spare my
+kindred, whose fate at this solemn moment is my last and only thought.
+
+"'This morning I sent for a man of long tried probity Isaac Samuel. He
+owes his life to me, and every day I congratulate myself on having been
+able to preserve to the world so honest and excellent a creature.
+
+"'Before the confiscation of my property, Isaac Samuel had long managed
+it with as much intelligence as uprightness. I have entrusted him with
+the fifty thousand crowns, returned to me by a faithful friend. Isaac
+Samuel, and his descendants after him, to whom he will leave this debt
+of gratitude, will invest the above sum, and allow it to accumulate,
+until the expiration of the hundred and fiftieth year from this time.
+
+"'The amount thus accumulated may become enormous, and constitute a
+royal fortune, if no unfavorable event should occur. May my descendants
+attend to my wishes, as to the division and employment of this immense
+sum!
+
+"'In a century and a half, there happen so many changes, so many
+varieties of fortunes, such a rise and fall in the condition of the
+successive generations of a family, that probably, a hundred and fifty
+years hence, my descendants will belong to various classes of society,
+and thus represent the divers social elements of their time.
+
+"'There may, perhaps, be among them men of great intelligence great
+courage, or great virtue--learned men, or names illustrious in arts
+and arms. There may, perhaps, also be obscure workmen, or humble
+citizens--perhaps, also, alas! great criminals.
+
+"'However, this may be, my most earnest desire is that my descendants
+should combine together, and, reconstituting one family, by a close and
+sincere union, put into practice the divine words of Christ, "Love ye
+one another."
+
+"'This union would have a salutary tendency; for it seems to me that
+upon union, upon the association of men together, must depend the future
+happiness of mankind.
+
+"'The Company, which so long persecuted my family, is one of the most
+striking examples of the power of association, even when applied to
+evil.
+
+"'There is something so fruitful and divine in this principle, that it
+sometimes forces to good the worst and most dangerous combinations.
+
+"'Thus, the missions have thrown a scanty but pure and generous light on
+the darkness of this Company of Jesus--founded with the detestable and
+impious aim of destroying, by a homicidal education, all will, thought,
+liberty, and intelligence, in the people, so as to deliver them,
+trembling, superstitious, brutal, and helpless, to the despotism of
+kings, governed in their turn by confessors belonging to the Society.'"
+
+At this passage of the will, there was another strange look exchanged
+between Gabriel and Father d'Aigrigny. The notary continued:
+
+"'If a perverse association, based upon the degradation of humanity,
+upon fear and despotism, and followed by the maledictions of the people,
+has survived for centuries, and often governed the world by craft and
+terror--how would it be with an association, which, taking fraternity
+and evangelic love for its means, had for its end to deliver man
+and woman from all degrading slavery, to invite to the enjoyment of
+terrestrial happiness those who have hitherto known nothing of life but
+its sorrows and miseries, and to glorify and enrich the labor that feeds
+the state?--to enlighten those whom ignorance has depraved?--to favor
+the free expansion of all the passions, which God, in His infinite
+wisdom, and inexhaustible goodness, gave to man as so many powerful
+levers?--to sanctify all the gifts of Heaven: love, maternity, strength,
+intelligence, beauty, genius?--to make men truly religious, and deeply
+grateful to their Creator, by making them understand the splendors of
+Nature, and bestowing on them their rightful share in the treasures
+which have been poured upon us?
+
+"'Oh! if it be Heaven's will that, in a century and a half, the
+descendants of my family, faithful to the last wishes of a heart that
+loved humanity, meet in this sacred union!--if it be Heaven's will
+that amongst them be found charitable and passionate souls, full of
+commiseration for those who suffer, and lofty minds, ardent for liberty!
+warm and eloquent natures! resolute characters! women, who unite beauty
+and wit with goodness--oh! then, how fruitful, how powerful will be the
+harmonious union of all these ideas, and influences, and forces--of
+all these attractions grouped round that princely fortune, which,
+concentrated by association, and wisely managed, would render
+practicable the most admirable Utopias!
+
+"'What a wondrous centre of fertile and generous thoughts! What precious
+and life-giving rays would stream incessantly from this focus of
+charity, emancipation, and love! What great things might be attempted
+what magnificent examples given to the world! What a divine mission!
+What an irresistible tendency towards good might be impressed on the
+whole human race by a family thus situated, and in possession of such
+means!
+
+"'And, then, such a beneficent association would be able to combat the
+fatal conspiracy of which I am the victim, and which, in a century and a
+half, may have lost none of its formidable power.
+
+"'So, to this work of darkness, restraint, and despotism, which weighs
+heavily on the Christian world, my family would oppose their work of
+light, expansion, and liberty!
+
+"'The genii of good and evil would stand face to face. The struggle
+would commence, and God would protect the right.
+
+"'And that these immense pecuniary resources, which will give so much
+power to my family, may not be exhausted by the course of years,
+my heirs, following my last will, are to place out, upon the same
+conditions, double the sum that I have invested--so that, a century and
+a half later, a new source of power and action will be at the disposal
+of their descendants. What a perpetuity of good!
+
+"'In the ebony cabinet of the Hall of Mourning will be found some
+practical suggestions on the subject of this association.
+
+"'Such is my last will--or rather, such are my last hopes.
+
+"'When I require absolutely that the members of my family should appear
+in person in the Rue Saint-Francois, on the day of the opening of this
+testament, it is so that, united in that solemn moment, they may see and
+know each other. My words may then, perhaps, have some effect upon them;
+and, instead of living divided, they will combine together. It will be
+for their own interest, and my wishes will thus be accomplished.
+
+"'When I sent, a few days ago, to those of my family whom exile has
+dispersed over Europe, a medal on which is engravers the date of the
+convocation of my heirs, a century and a half from this time, I was
+forced to keep secret my true motive, and only to tell them, that my
+descendants would find it greatly to their interest to attend this
+meeting.
+
+"'I have acted thus, because I know the craft and perseverance of the
+society of which I have been the victim. If they could guess that my
+descendants would hereafter have to divide immense sums between them,
+my family would run the risk of much fraud and malice, through the fatal
+recommendations handed down from age to age in the Society of Jesus.
+
+"'May these precautions be successful! May the wish, expressed upon
+these medals, be faithfully transmitted from generation to generation!
+
+"'If I fix a day and hour, in which my inheritance shall irrevocably
+fall to those of my descendants who shall appear in the Rue
+Saint-Francois on the 13th February, in 1832, it is that all delays
+must have a term, and that my heirs will have been sufficiently informed
+years before of the great importance of this meeting.
+
+"'After the reading of my testament, the person who shall then be the
+trustee of the accumulated funds, shall make known their amount, so
+that, with the last stroke of noon, they may be divided between my heirs
+then and there present.
+
+"'The different apartments of the house shall then be opened to them.
+They will see in them divers objects, well worthy of interest, pity, and
+respect--particularly in the Hall of Mourning.
+
+"'My desire is, that the house may not be sold, but that it may remain
+furnished as it is, and serve as a place of meeting for my descendants,
+if, as I hope, they attend to my last wishes.
+
+"'If, on the contrary, they are divided amongst themselves--if, instead
+of uniting for one of the most generous enterprises that ever signalized
+an age, they yield to the influence of selfish passions--if they prefer
+a sterile individuality to a fruitful association--if, in this immense
+fortune, they see only an opportunity for frivolous dissipation, or
+sordid interest--may they be accursed by all those whom they might have
+loved, succored, and disfettered!--and then let this house be utterly
+demolished and destroyed, and the papers, of which Isaac Samuel
+possesses the inventory, as well as the two portraits in the Red Room,
+be burnt by the guardian of the property.
+
+"'I have spoken. My duty is accomplished. In all this, I have followed
+the counsels of the man whom I revere and love as the image of God upon
+earth.
+
+"'The faithful friend, who preserved for me the fifty thousand crowns,
+the wreck of my fortune, knows the use I mean to make of them. I could
+not refuse his friendship this mark of confidence. But I have concealed
+from him the name of Isaac Samuel--for to have mentioned it might have
+exposed this latter and his descendants to great dangers.
+
+"'In a short time, this friend, who knows not that my resolution to die
+is so near its accomplishment, will come hither with my notary. Into
+their hands, after the usual formalities, I shall deliver my sealed
+testament.
+
+"'Such is my last will. I leave its execution to the superintending care
+of Providence. God will protect the cause of love, peace, union, and
+liberty.
+
+"'This mystic testament,(20) having been freely made by me, and written
+entirely with my own hand, I intend and will its scrupulous execution
+both in spirit and the letter.
+
+"'This 13th day of February, 1682, at one o'clock in the afternoon.
+
+                "'MARIUS DE RENNEPONT.'"
+
+As the notary had proceeded with the reading of the testament, Gabriel
+was successively agitated by divers painful impressions. At first, as
+we have before said, he was struck with the singular fatality which
+restored this immense fortune, derived from a victim of the Society of
+Jesus, to the hands of that very association, by the renewal of his
+deed of gift. Then, as his charitable and lofty soul began fully to
+comprehend the admirable tendency of the association so earnestly
+recommended by Marius de Rennepont, he reflected with bitter remorse,
+that, in consequence of his act of renunciation, and of the absence of
+any other heir, this great idea would never be realized, and a fortune,
+far more considerable than had even been expected, would fall to
+the share of an ill-omened society, in whose hands it would become a
+terrible means of action. At the same time, it must be said that the
+soul of Gabriel was too pure and noble to feel the slightest personal
+regret, on hearing the great probable value of the property he had
+renounced. He rejoiced rather in withdrawing his mind, by a touching
+contrast, from the thought of the wealth he had abandoned, to the humble
+parsonage, where he hoped to pass the remainder of his life, in the
+practice of most evangelical virtue.
+
+These ideas passed confusedly through his brain. The sight of that
+woman's portrait, the dark revelations contained in the testament, the
+grandeur of the views exhibited in this last will of M. de Rennepont,
+all these extraordinary incidents had thrown Gabriel into a sort of
+stupor, in which he was still plunged, when Samuel offered the key
+of the register to the notary, saying: "You will find, sir, in this
+register, the exact statement of the sums in my possession, derived from
+the investment and accumulation of the one hundred and fifty thousand
+francs, entrusted to my grandfather by M. Marius de Rennepont."
+
+"Your grandfather!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, with the utmost surprise;
+"it is then your family that has always had the management of this
+property."
+
+"Yes, sir; and, in a few minutes, my wife will bring hither the casket
+which contains the vouchers."
+
+"And to what sum does this property amount?" asked Rodin, with an air of
+the most complete indifference.
+
+"As M. Notary may convince himself by this statement," replied Samuel,
+with perfect frankness, and as if he were only talking of the original
+one hundred and fifty thousand francs, "I have in my possession various
+current securities to the amount of two hundred and twelve millions, one
+hundred and seventy--"
+
+"You say, sir'" cried Father d'Aigrigny, without giving Samuel time to
+finish, for the odd money did not at all interest his reverence.
+
+"Yes, the sum!" added Rodin, in an agitated voice, and, for the first
+time, perhaps, in his life losing his presence of mind; "the sum--the
+sum--the sum!"
+
+"I say, sir," resumed the old man, "that I hold securities for two
+hundred and twelve millions, one hundred and seventy-five thousand
+francs, payable to self or bearer--as you may soon convince yourself, M.
+Notary, for here is my wife with the casket."
+
+Indeed, at this moment, Bathsheba entered, holding in her arms the cedar
+wood chest, which contained the securities in question; she placed it
+upon the table, and withdrew, after exchanging an affectionate glance
+with Samuel. When the latter declared the enormous amount of the sum in
+hand, his words were received with silent stupor. All the actors in
+this scene, except himself, believed that they were the sport of some
+delusion. Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin had counted upon forty millions.
+This sum, in itself enormous, was more than quintupled. Gabriel, when he
+heard the notary read those passages in the testament, which spoke of
+a princely fortune, being quite ignorant of the prodigious effects of
+eligible investments, had valued the property at some three or
+four millions. He was, therefore, struck dumb with amazement at the
+exorbitant amount named. Notwithstanding his admirable disinterestedness
+and scrupulous honor, he felt dazzled and giddy at the thought, that
+all these immense riches might have belonged to him--alone. The notary,
+almost as much amazed as Gabriel, examined the statement, and could
+hardly believe his eyes. The Jew also remained mute, and seemed
+painfully absorbed in thought, that no other heir made his appearance.
+
+In the depth of this profound silence, the clock in the next room began
+slowly to strike twelve. Samuel started, and heaved a deep sigh. A
+few seconds more, and the fatal term would be at an end. Rodin, Father
+d'Aigrigny, Gabriel, and the notary, were all under the influence of
+such complete surprise, that not one of them even remarked how strange
+it was to hear the sound of this clock.
+
+"Noon!" cried Rodin, as, by an involuntary movement, he hastily placed
+his two hands upon the casket, as if to take possession of it.
+
+"At last!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, with an expression of joy, triumph
+transport, which it is impossible to describe. Then he added, as he
+threw himself into Gabriel's arms, whom he embraced warmly: "Oh, my dear
+son! how the poor will bless you! You will be a second Vincent de Paul.
+You will be canonized, I promise you."
+
+"Let us first thank Providence," said Rodin, in a grave and solemn
+tone, as he fell upon his knees, "let us thank Providence, that He has
+permitted so much wealth to be employed for His glory!"'
+
+Father d'Aigrigny, having again embraced Gabriel, took him by the hand,
+and said: "Rodin is right. Let us kneel, my dear son, and render thanks
+to Providence!"
+
+So saying, Father d'Aigrigny knelt down, dragging Gabriel with him, and
+the latter, confused and giddy with so many precipitate events, yielded
+mechanically to the impulse. It was the last stroke of twelve when they
+all rose together.
+
+Then said the notary, in a slightly agitated voice, for there was
+something extraordinary and solemn in this scene--
+
+"No other heir of M. Marius de Rennepont having presented himself,
+before noon on this day, I execute the will of the testator, by
+declaring, in the name of law and justice, that M. Francois Marie
+Gabriel de Rennepont, here present, is the sole heir and possessor of
+all the estate, real and personal, bequeathed under the said will;
+all which estate the said Gabriel de Rennepont, priest, has freely and
+voluntarily made over by deed of gift to Frederic Emanuel de Bordeville,
+Marquis d'Aigrigny, priest, who has accepted the same, and is,
+therefore, the only legal holder of such property, in the room of the
+said Gabriel de Rennepont, by virtue of the said deed, drawn up and
+engrossed by me this morning, and signed in my presence by the said
+Gabriel de Rennepont and Frederic d'Aigrigny."
+
+At this moment, the sound of loud voices was heard from the garden.
+Bathsheba entered hastily, and said to her husband with an agitated air:
+"Samuel--a soldier--who insists--"
+
+She had not time to finish. Dagobert appeared at the door of the Red
+Room. The soldier was fearfully pale. He seemed almost fainting; his
+left arm was in a sling, and he leaned upon Agricola. At sight of
+Dagobert, the pale and flabby eyelids of Rodin were suddenly distended,
+as if all the blood in his body had flowed towards the head. Then the
+socius threw himself upon the casket, with the haste of ferocious rage
+and avidity, as if he were resolved to cover it with his body, and
+defend it at the peril of his life.
+
+(20) This term is sanctioned by legal usage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE DEED OF GIFT.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny did not recognize Dagobert, and had never seen
+Agricola. He could not therefore, at first explain the kind of angry
+alarm exhibited by Rodin. But the reverend father understood it all,
+when he heard Gabriel utter a cry of joy, and saw him rush into the
+arms of the smith, exclaiming: "My brother! my second father--oh! it is
+heaven that sends you to me."
+
+Having pressed Gabriel's hand, Dagobert advanced towards Father
+d'Aigrigny, with a rapid but unsteady step. As he remarked the soldier's
+threatening countenance, the reverend father, strong in his acquired
+rights, and feeling that, since noon, he was at home here; drew back a
+little, and said imperiously to the veteran: "Who are you, sir!--What do
+you want here?"
+
+Instead of answering, the soldier continued to advance, then, stopping
+just facing Father d'Aigrigny, he looked at him for a second with such
+an astounding mixture of curiosity, disdain, aversion, and audacity,
+that the ex-colonel of hussars quailed before the pale face and glowing
+eye of the veteran. The notary and Samuel, struck with surprise,
+remained mute spectators of this scene, while Agricola and Gabriel
+followed with anxiety Dagobert's least movements. As for Rodin, he
+pretended to be leaning on the casket, in order still to cover it with
+his body.
+
+Surmounting at length the embarrassment caused by the steadfast look
+of the soldier, Father d'Aigrigny raised his head, and repeated. "I ask
+you, sir, who you are, and what you want?"
+
+"Do you not recognize me?" said Dagobert, hardly able to restrain
+himself.
+
+"No, sir--"
+
+"In truth," returned the soldier, with profound contempt, "You cast
+down your eyes for shame when, at Leipsic, you fought for the Russians
+against the French, and when General Simon, covered with wounds,
+answered you, renegade that you were, when you asked him for his sword,
+'I do not surrender to a traitor!'--and dragged himself along to one of
+the Russian grenadiers, to whom he yielded up his weapon. Well! there
+was then a wounded soldier by the side of General Simon--I am he."
+
+"In brief, sir, what do you want?" said Father d'Aigrigny, hardly, able
+to control himself.
+
+"I have come to unmask you--you, that are as false and hateful a priest,
+as Gabriel is admirable and beloved by all."
+
+"Sir!" cried the marquis, becoming livid with rage and emotion.
+
+"I tell you, that you are infamous," resumed the soldier, with still
+greater force. "To rob Marshal Simon's daughters, and Gabriel, and
+Mdlle. de Cardoville of their inheritance, you have had recourse to the
+most shameful means."
+
+"What do you say?" cried Gabriel. "The daughters of Marshal Simon?"
+
+"Are your relations, my dear boy, as is also that worthy Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, the benefactress of Agricola. Now, this priest," he added,
+pointing to Father d'Aigrigny, "has had them shut up--the one as mad,
+in a lunatic asylum--the others in a convent. As for you, my dear boy, I
+did not hope to find you here, believing that they would have prevented
+you, like the others, from coming hither this morning. But, thank God,
+you are here, and I arrive in time. I should have been sooner, but for
+my wound. I have lost so much blood, that I have done nothing but faint
+all the morning."
+
+"Truly!" cried Gabriel, with uneasiness. "I had not remarked your arm in
+a sling. What is the wound?"
+
+At a sign from Agricola, Dagobert answered: "Nothing; the consequence of
+a fall. But here I am, to unveil many infamies."
+
+It is impossible to paint the curiosity, anguish, surprise, or fear,
+of the different actors in this scene, as they listened to Dagobert's
+threatening words. But the most overcome was Gabriel. His angelic
+countenance was distorted, his knees trembled under him. Struck by the
+communication of Dagobert which revealed the existence of other heirs,
+he was unable to speak for some time; at length, he cried out, in a tone
+of despair: "And it is I--oh, God! I--who am the cause of the spoliation
+of this family!"
+
+"You, brother?" exclaimed Agricola.
+
+"Did they not wish to rob you also?" added Dagobert.
+
+"The will," cried Gabriel, with increasing agony, "gave the property to
+those of the heirs that should appear before noon."
+
+"Well?" said Dagobert, alarmed at the emotion of the young priest.
+
+"Twelve o'clock has struck," resumed the latter. "Of all the family, I
+alone was present. Do you understand it now? The term is expired. The
+heirs have been thrust aside by me!"
+
+"By you!" said Dagobert, stammering with joy. "By you, my brave boy!
+then all is well."
+
+"But--"
+
+"All is well," resumed Dagobert, radiant with delight. "You will share
+with the others--I know you."
+
+"But all this property I have irrevocably, made over to another," cried
+Gabriel, in despair.
+
+"Made over the property!" cried Dagobert, quite petrified. "To whom,
+then?--to whom?"
+
+"To this gentleman," said Gabriel, pointing to Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"To him!" exclaimed Dagobert, overwhelmed by the news; "to him--the
+renegade--who has always been the evil genius of this family!"
+
+"But, brother," cried Agricola, "did you then know your claim to this
+inheritance?"
+
+"No," answered the young priest, with deep dejection; "no--I only
+learned it this morning, from Father d'Aigrigny. He told me, that he
+had only recently been informed of my rights, by family papers long ago
+found upon me, and sent by our mother to her confessor."
+
+A sudden light seemed to dawn upon the mind of the smith, as he
+exclaimed: "I understand it all now. They discovered in these papers,
+that you would one day have a chance of becoming rich. Therefore, they
+interested themselves about you--therefore, they took you into their
+college, where we could never see you--therefore, they deceived you in
+your vocation by shameful falsehoods, to force you to become a priest,
+and to lead you to make this deed of gift. Oh, sir!" resumed Agricola,
+turning towards Father d'Aigrigny, with indignation, "my father is
+right--such machinations are indeed infamous!"
+
+During this scene, the reverend father and his socius, at first alarmed
+and shaken in their audacity, had by degrees recovered all their
+coolness. Rodin, still leaning upon the casket, had said a few words in
+a low voice to Father d'Aigrigny. So that when Agricola, carried away by
+his indignation, reproached the latter with his infamous machinations,
+he bowed his head humbly, and answered: "We are bound to forgive
+injuries, and offer them to the Lord as a mark of our humility."
+
+Dagobert, confounded at all he had just heard, felt his reason begin to
+wander. After so much anxiety, his strength failed beneath this new and
+terrible blow. Agricola's just and sensible words, in connection with
+certain passages of the testament, at once enlightened Gabriel as to
+the views of Father d'Aigrigny, in taking charge of his education, and
+leading him to join the Society of Jesus. For the first time in his
+life, Gabriel was able to take in at a glance all the secret springs of
+the dark intrigue, of which he had been the victim. Then, indignation
+and despair surmounting his natural timidity, the missionary, with
+flashing eye, and cheeks inflamed with noble wrath, exclaimed, as he
+addressed Father d'Aigrigny: "So, father, when you placed me in one of
+your colleges, it was not from any feeling of kindness or commiseration,
+but only in the hope of bringing me one day to renounce in favor of your
+Order my share in this inheritance; and it did not even suffice you
+to sacrifice me to your cupidity, but I must also be rendered the
+involuntary instrument of a shameful spoliation! If only I were
+concerned--if you only coveted my claim to all this wealth, I should not
+complain. I am the minister of a religion which honors and sanctifies
+poverty; I have consented to the donation in your favor, and I have not,
+I could never have any claim upon it. But property is concerned which
+belong to poor orphans, brought from a distant exile by my adopted
+father, and I will not see them wronged. But the benefactress of my
+adopted brother is concerned, and I will not see her wronged. But
+the last will of a dying man is concerned, who, in his ardent love
+of humanity, bequeathed to his descendants an evangelic mission--an
+admirable mission of progress, love, union, liberty--and I will not
+see this mission blighted in its bud. No, no; I tell you, that this his
+mission shall be accomplished, though I have to cancel the donation I
+have made."
+
+On these words, Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin looked at each other with a
+slight shrug of the shoulders. At a sign from the socius, the reverend
+father began to speak with immovable calmness, in a slow and sanctified
+voice, keeping eyes constantly cast down: "There are many incidents
+connected with this inheritance of M. de Rennepont, which appear very
+complicated--many phantoms, which seem un usually menacing--and yet,
+nothing could be really more simple and natural. Let us proceed in
+regular order. Let us put aside all these calumnious imputations; we
+will return to them afterwards. M. Gabriel de Rennepont--and I humbly
+beg him to contradict me, if I depart in the least instance from the
+exact truth--M. Gabriel de Rennepont, in acknowledgment of the care
+formerly bestowed on him by the society to which I have the honor to
+belong, made over to me, as its representative, freely and voluntarily,
+all the property that might come to him one day, the value of which was
+unknown to him, as well as to myself."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny here looked at Gabriel, as if appealing to him for the
+truth of this statement.
+
+"It is true," said the young priest: "I made this donation freely."
+
+"This morning, in consequence of a private conversation, which I will
+not repeat--and in this, I am certain beforehand, of the Abbe Gabriel--"
+
+"True," replied Gabriel, generously; "the subject of this conversation
+is of little importance."
+
+"It was then, in consequence of this conversation that the Abbe Gabriel
+manifested the desire to confirm this donation--not in my favor, for I
+have little to do with earthly wealth--but in favor of the sacred and
+charitable works of which our Company is the trustee. I appeal to the
+honor of M. Gabriel to declare if he have not engaged himself towards
+us, not only by a solemn oath, but by a perfectly legal act, executed in
+presence of M. Dumesnil, here present?"
+
+"It is all true," answered Gabriel.
+
+"The deed was prepared by me," added the notary.
+
+"But Gabriel could only give you what belonged to him," cried Dagobert.
+"The dear boy never supposed that you were making use of him to rob
+other people."
+
+"Do me the favor, sir, to allow me to explain myself," replied Father
+d'Aigrigny, courteously; "you can afterwards make answer."
+
+Dagobert repressed with difficulty his painful impatience. The reverend
+father continued: "The Abbe Gabriel has therefore, by the double
+engagement of an oath and a legal act, confirmed his donation. Much
+more," resumed Father d'Aigrigny: "when to his great astonishment and
+to ours, the enormous amount of the inheritance became known, the Abbe
+Gabriel, faithful to his own admirable generosity, far from repenting of
+his gifts, consecrated them once more by a pious movement of gratitude
+to Providence--for M. Notary will doubtless remember, that, after
+embracing the Abbe Gabriel with transport, and telling him that he was
+a second Vincent de Paul in charity, I took him by the hand, and we both
+knelt down together to thank heaven for having inspired him with the
+thought too offer these immense riches to the Greater Glory of the
+Lord."
+
+"That is true, also," said Gabriel, honestly; "so long as myself was
+concerned, though I might be astounded for a moment by the revelation of
+so enormous a fortune, I did not think for an instant of cancelling the
+donation I had freely made."
+
+"Under these circumstances," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "the hour fixed
+for the settlement of the inheritance having struck, and Abbe Gabriel
+being the only heir that presented himself, he became necessarily
+the only legitimate possessor of this immense wealth--enormous, no
+doubt--and charity makes me rejoice that it is enormous, for, thanks to
+it, many miseries will be relieved and many tears wiped away. But,
+all on a sudden, here comes this gentleman," said Father d'Aigrigny,
+pointing to Dagobert; "and, under some delusion, which I forgive from
+the bottom of my soul, and which I am sure he will himself regret,
+accuses me, with insults and threats, with having carried off (I know
+not where) some persons (I know not whom), in order to prevent their
+being here at the proper time--"
+
+"Yes, I accuse you of this infamy!" cried the soldier exasperated by the
+calmness and audacity of the reverend father: "yes--and I will--"
+
+"Once again, sir, I conjure you to be so good as to let me finish; you
+can reply afterwards," said Father d'Aigrigny, humbly, in the softest
+and most honeyed accents.
+
+"Yes, I will reply, and confound you!" cried Dagobert.
+
+"Let him finish, father. You can speak presently," said Agricola.
+
+The soldier was silent as Father d'Aigrigny continued with new
+assurance: "Doubtless, if there should really be any other heirs,
+besides the Abbe Gabriel, it is unfortunate for them that they have not
+appeared in proper time. And if, instead of defending the cause of the
+poor and needy, I had only to look to my own interest, I should be far
+from availing myself of this advantage, due only to chance; but, as a
+trustee for the great family of the poor, I am obliged to maintain my
+absolute right to this inheritance; and I do not doubt that M. Notary
+will acknowledge the validity of my claim, and deliver to me these
+securities, which are now my legitimate property."
+
+"My only mission," replied the notary, in an agitated voice, "is
+faithfully to execute the will of the testator. The Abbe Gabriel
+de Rennepont alone presented himself, within the term fixed by the
+testament. The deed of gift is in due form; I cannot refuse, therefore,
+to deliver to the person named in the deed the amount of the heritage--"
+
+On these words Samuel hid his face in his hands, and heaved a deep
+sigh; he was obliged to acknowledge the rigorous justice of the notary's
+observations.
+
+"But, sir," cried Dagobert, addressing the man of law, "this cannot be.
+You will not allow two poor orphans to be despoiled. It is in the name
+of their father and mother that I speak to you. I give you my honor--the
+honor of a soldier!--that they took advantage of the weakness of my wife
+to carry the daughters of Marshal Simon to a convent, and thus prevent
+me bringing them here this morning. It is so true, that I have already
+laid my charge before a magistrate."
+
+"And what answer did you receive?" said the notary.
+
+"That my deposition was not sufficient for the law to remove these young
+girls from the convent in which they were, and that inquiries would be
+made--"
+
+"Yes, sir," added Agricola, "and it was the same with regard to Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, detained as mad in a lunatic asylum, though in the full
+enjoyment of her reason. Like Marshal Simon's daughters, she too has a
+claim to this inheritance. I took the same steps for her, as my father
+took for Marshal Simon's daughters."
+
+"Well?" asked the notary.
+
+"Unfortunately, sir," answered Agricola, "they told me; as they did my
+father, that my deposition would not suffice, and that they must make
+inquiries."
+
+At this moment, Bathsheba, having heard the street-bell ring, left the
+Red Room at a sign from Samuel. The notary resumed, addressing Agricola
+and his father: "Far be it from me, gentlemen, to call in question your
+good faith; but I cannot, to my great regret, attach such importance to
+your accusations, which are not supported by proof, as to suspend the
+regular legal course. According to your own confession, gentlemen,
+the authorities, to whom you addressed yourselves, did not see fit to
+interfere on your depositions, and told you they would inquire further.
+Now, really, gentlemen, I appeal to you: how can I, in so serious
+a matter, take upon myself a responsibility, which the magistrates
+themselves have refused to take?"
+
+"Yes, you should do so, in the name of justice and honor?" cried
+Dagobert.
+
+"It may be so, sir, in your opinion; but in my view of the case, I
+remain faithful to justice and honor, by executing with exactness the
+last will of the dead. For the rest you have no occasion to despair. If
+the persons, whose interests you represent, consider themselves injured,
+they may hereafter have recourse to an action at law, against the person
+receiving as donee of the Abbe Gabriel--but in the meanwhile, it is my
+duty to put him in immediate possession of the securities. I should be
+gravely injured, were I to act in any, other manner."
+
+The notary's observations seemed so reasonable, that Samuel, Dagobert
+and Agricola were quite confounded. After a moment's thought, Gabriel
+appeared to take a desperate resolution, and said to the notary, in a
+firm voice--
+
+"Since, under these circumstances, the law is powerless to obtain the
+right, I must adopt, sir, an extreme course. Before doing so, I will ask
+M. l'Abbe d'Aigrigny, for the last time, if he will content himself with
+that portion of the property which falls justly to me, on condition that
+the rest shall be placed in safe hands, till the heirs, whose names have
+been brought forward, shall prove their claim."
+
+"To this proposition I must answer as I have done already," replied
+Father d'Aigrigny; "it is not I who am concerned, but an immense work of
+charity. I am, therefore, obliged to refuse the part-offer of the Abbe
+Gabriel, and to remind him of his engagements of every kind."
+
+"Then you refuse this arrangement?" asked Gabriel, in an agitated voice.
+
+"Charity commands me to do so."
+
+"You refuse it--absolutely?"
+
+"I think of all the good and pious institutions that these treasures
+will enable us to establish for the Greater Glory of the Lord, and I
+have neither the courage nor the desire to make the least concession."
+
+"Then, sir," resumed the good priest, in a still more agitated manner,
+"since you force me to do it, I revoke my donation. I only intended to
+dispose of my own property, and not of that which did not belong to me."
+
+"Take care M. l'Abbe," said rather d'Aigrigny; "I would observe that I
+hold in my hand a written, formal promise."
+
+"I know it, sir; you have a written paper, in which I take an oath
+never to revoke this donation, upon any pretext whatever, and on pain of
+incurring the aversion and contempt of all honest men. Well, sir! be it
+so," said Gabriel, with deep bitterness; "I will expose myself to all
+the consequences of perjury; you may proclaim it everywhere. I may be
+hated and despised by all--but God will judge me!" The young priest
+dried a tear, which trickled from his eye.
+
+"Oh! do not be afraid, my dear boy!" cried Dagobert, with reviving hope.
+"All honest men will be on your side!"
+
+"Well done, brother!" said Agricola.
+
+"M. Notary," said Rodin, in his little sharp voice, "please to explain
+to Abbe Gabriel, that he may perjure himself as much as he thinks
+fit, but that the Civil Code is much less easy to violate than a mere
+promise, which is only--sacred!"
+
+"Speak, sir," said Gabriel.
+
+"Please to inform Abbe Gabriel," resumed Rodin, "that a deed of gift,
+like that made in favor of Father d'Aigrigny, can only be cancelled for
+one of three reasons--is it not so?"
+
+"Yes, sir, for three reasons," said the notary.
+
+"The first is in case of the birth of a child," said Rodin, "and I
+should blush to mention such a contingency to the Abbe Gabriel. The
+second is the ingratitude of the donee--and the Abbe Gabriel may
+be certain of our deep and lasting gratitude. The last case is the
+non-fulfilment of the wishes of the donor, with regard to the employment
+of his gifts.
+
+"Now, although the Abbe Gabriel may have suddenly conceived a very bad
+opinion of us, he will at least give us some time to show that his
+gifts have been disposed of according to his wishes, and applied to the
+Greater Glory of the Lord."
+
+"Now, M. Notary," added Father d'Aigrigny, "it is for you to decide and
+say, if Abbe Gabriel can revoke the donation he has made."
+
+Just as the notary was going to answer, Bathsheba reentered the room,
+followed by two more personages, who appeared in the Red Room at a
+little distance from each other.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VI.
+
+
+
+
+PART SECOND.--THE CHASTISEMENT. (Concluded.)
+
+     XXVI. A Good Genius XXVII. The First Last, And the Last
+     First XXVIII. The Stranger XXIX. The Den XXX. An Unexpected
+     Visit XXXI. Friendly Services XXXII. The Advice XXXIII. The
+     Accuser XXXIV. Father d'Aigrigny's Secretary XXXV. Sympathy
+     XXXVI. Suspicions XXXVII. Excuses XXXVIII. Revelations
+     XXXIX. Pierre Simon
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A GOOD GENIUS.
+
+The first of the two, whose arrival had interrupted the answer of the
+notary, was Faringhea. At sight of this man's forbidding countenance,
+Samuel approached, and said to him: "Who are you, sir?"
+
+After casting a piercing glance at Rodin, who started but soon recovered
+his habitual coolness, Faringhea replied to Samuel: "Prince Djalma
+arrived lately from India, in order to be present here this day, as it
+was recommended to him by an inscription on a medal, which he wore about
+his neck."
+
+"He, also!" cried Gabriel, who had been the shipmate of the Indian
+Prince from the Azores, where the vessel in which he came from
+Alexandria had been driven into port: "he also one of the heirs! In
+fact, the prince told me during the voyage that his mother was of French
+origin. But, doubtless, he thought it right to conceal from me the
+object of his journey. Oh! that Indian is a noble and courageous young
+man. Where is he?"
+
+The Strangler again looked at Rodin, and said, laying strong emphasis
+upon his words: "I left the prince yesterday evening. He informed me
+that, although he had a great interest to be here, he might possibly
+sacrifice that interest to other motives. I passed the night in the same
+hotel, and this morning, when I went to call on him, they told me he was
+already gone out. My friendship for him led me to come hither, hoping
+the information I should be able to give might be of use to the prince."
+
+In making no mention of the snare into which he had fallen the day
+before, in concealing Rodin's machinations with regard to Djalma, and
+in attributing the absence of this latter to a voluntary cause, the
+Strangler evidently wished to serve the socius, trusting that Rodin
+would know how to recompense his discretion. It is useless to observe,
+that all this story was impudently false. Having succeeded that morning
+in escaping from his prison by a prodigious effort of cunning, audacity,
+and skill, he had run to the hotel where he had left Djalma; there
+he had learned that a man and woman, of an advanced age, and most
+respectable appearance, calling themselves relations of the young
+Indian, had asked to see him--and that, alarmed at the dangerous state
+of somnolency in which he seemed to be plunged, they had taken him home
+in their carriage, in order to pay him the necessary attention.
+
+"It is unfortunate," said the notary, "that this heir also did not
+make his appearance--but he has, unhappily, forfeited his right to the
+immense inheritance that is in question."
+
+"Oh! an immense inheritance is in question," said Faringhea, looking
+fixedly at Rodin, who prudently turned away his eyes.
+
+The second of the two personages we have mentioned entered at this
+moment. It was the father of Marshal Simon, an old man of tall stature,
+still active and vigorous for his age. His hair was white and thin. His
+countenance, rather fresh-colored, was expressive at once of quickness,
+mildness and energy.
+
+Agricola advanced hastily to meet him. "You here, M. Simon!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, my boy," said the marshal's father, cordially pressing Agricola's
+hand "I have just arrived from my journey. M. Hardy was to have been
+here, about some matter of inheritance, as he supposed: but, as he will
+still be absent from Paris for some time, he has charged me--"
+
+"He also an heir!--M. Francis Hardy!" cried Agricola, interrupting the
+old workman.
+
+"But how pale and agitated you are, my boy!" said the marshal's father,
+looking round with astonishment. "What is the matter?"
+
+"What is the matter?" cried Dagobert, in despair, as he approached the
+foreman. "The matter is that they would rob your granddaughters, and
+that I have brought them from the depths of Siberia only to witness this
+shameful deed!"
+
+"Eh?" cried the old workman, trying to recognize the soldiers face, "you
+are then--"
+
+"Dagobert."
+
+"You--the generous, devoted friend of my son!" cried the marshal's
+father, pressing the hands of Dagobert in his own with strong emotion;
+"but did you not speak of Simon's daughter?"
+
+"Of his daughters; for he is more fortunate than he imagines," said
+Dagobert. "The poor children are twins."
+
+"And where are they?" asked the old man.
+
+"In a convent."
+
+"In a convent?"
+
+"Yes; by the treachery of this man, who keeps them there in order to
+disinherit them."
+
+"What man?"
+
+"The Marquis d'Aigrigny."
+
+"My son's mortal enemy!" cried the old workman, as he threw a glance of
+aversion at Father d'Aigrigny, whose audacity did not fail him.
+
+"And that is not all," added Agricola. "M. Hardy, my worthy and
+excellent master, has also lost his right to this immense inheritance."
+
+"What?" cried Marshal Simon's father; "but M. Hardy did not know that
+such important interests were concerned. He set out hastily to join one
+of his friends who was in want of him."
+
+At each of these successive revelations, Samuel felt his trouble
+increase: but he could only sigh over it, for the will of the testator
+was couched, unhappily, in precise and positive terms.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny, impatient to end this scene, which caused him cruel
+embarrassment, in spite of his apparent calmness, said to the notary,
+in a grave and expressive voice: "It is necessary, sir, that all
+this should have an end. If calumny could reach me, I would answer
+victoriously by the facts that have just come to light. Why attribute
+to odious conspiracies the absence of the heirs, in whose names this
+soldier and his son have so uncourteously urged their demands? Why
+should such absence be less explicable than the young Indian's, or than
+M. Hardy's, who, as his confidential man has just told us, did not even
+know the importance of the interests that called him hither? Is it not
+probable, that the daughters of Marshal Simon, and Mdlle. de Cardoville
+have been prevented from coming here to-day by some very natural
+reasons? But, once again, this has lasted too long. I think M. Notary
+will agree with me, that this discovery of new heirs does not at all
+affect the question, which I had the honor to propose to him just now;
+namely whether, as trustee for the poor, to whom Abbe Gabriel made a
+free gift of all he possessed, I remain notwithstanding his tardy and
+illegal opposition, the only possessor of this property, which I
+have promised, and which I now again promise, in presence of all here
+assembled, to employ for the Greater Glory of the Lord? Please to answer
+me plainly, M. Notary; and thus terminate the scene which must needs be
+painful to us all."
+
+"Sir," replied the notary, in a solemn tone, "on my soul and conscience,
+and in the name of law and justice--as a faithful and impartial executor
+of the last will of M. Marius de Rennepont, I declare that, by virtue
+of the deed of gift of Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont, you, M. l'Abbe
+d'Aigrigny, are the only possessor of this property, which I place at
+your immediate disposal, that you may employ the same according to the
+intention of the donor."
+
+These words pronounced with conviction and gravity, destroyed the last
+vague hopes that the representatives of the heirs might till then have
+entertained. Samuel became paler than usual, and pressed convulsively
+the hand of Bathsheba, who had drawn near to him. Large tears rolled
+down the cheeks of the two old people. Dagobert and Agricola were
+plunged into the deepest dejection. Struck with the reasoning of
+the notary, who refused to give more credence and authority to their
+remonstrances than the magistrates had done before him, they saw
+themselves forced to abandon every hope. But Gabriel suffered more than
+any one; he felt the most terrible remorse, in reflecting that, by his
+blindness, he had been the involuntary cause and instrument of this
+abominable theft.
+
+So, when the notary, after having examined and verified the amount of
+securities contained in the cedar box, said to Father d'Aigrigny:
+"Take possession, sir, of this casket--" Gabriel exclaimed, with bitter
+disappointment and profound despair: "Alas! one would fancy, under these
+circumstances, that an inexorable fatality pursues all those who are
+worthy of interest, affection or respect. Oh, my God!" added the young
+priest, clasping his hands with fervor, "Thy sovereign justice will
+never permit the triumph of such iniquity."
+
+It was as if heaven had listened to the prayer of the missionary. Hardly
+had he spoken, when a strange event took place.
+
+Without waiting for the end of Gabriel's invocation, Rodin, profiting by
+the decision of the notary, had seized the casket in his arms, unable
+to repress a deep aspiration of joy and triumph. At the very moment
+when Father d'Aigrigny and his socius thought themselves at last in safe
+possession of the treasure, the door of the apartment in which the clock
+had been heard striking was suddenly opened.
+
+A woman appeared upon the threshold.
+
+At sight of her, Gabriel uttered a loud cry, and remained as if
+thunderstruck. Samuel and Bathsheba fell on their knees together, and
+raised their clasped hands. The Jew and Jewess felt inexplicable hopes
+reviving within them.
+
+All the other actors in this scene appeared struck with stupor.
+Rodin--Rodin himself--recoiled two steps, and replaced the casket on the
+table with a trembling hand. Though the incident might appear natural
+enough--a woman appearing on the threshold of a door, which she had just
+thrown open--there was a pause of deep and solemn silence. Every bosom
+seemed oppressed, and as if struggling for breath. All experienced,
+at sight of this woman, surprise mingled with fear, and indefinable
+anxiety--for this woman was the living original of the portrait, which
+had been placed in the room a hundred and fifty years ago. The same
+head-dress, the same flowing robe, the same countenance, so full of
+poignant and resigned grief! She advanced slowly, and without appearing
+to perceive the deep impression she had caused. She approached one of
+the pieces of furniture, inlaid with brass, touched a spring concealed
+in the moulding of gilded bronze, so that an upper drawer flew open, and
+taking from it a sealed parchment envelope, she walked up to the table,
+and placed this packet before the notary, who, hitherto silent and
+motionless, received it mechanically from her.
+
+Then, casting upon Gabriel, who seemed fascinated by her presence, a
+long, mild, melancholy look, this woman directed her steps towards the
+hall, the door of which had remained open. As she passed near Samuel and
+Bathsheba, who were still kneeling, she stopped an instant, bowed her
+fair head towards them, and looked at them with tender solicitude. Then,
+giving them her hands to kiss, she glided away as slowly as she had
+entered--throwing a last glance upon Gabriel. The departure of this
+woman seemed to break the spell under which all present had remained for
+the last few minutes. Gabriel was the first to speak, exclaiming, in an
+agitated voice. "It is she--again--here--in this house!"
+
+"Who, brother?" said Agricola, uneasy at the pale and almost wild
+looks of the missionary; for the smith had not yet remarked the strange
+resemblance of the woman to the portrait, though he shared in the
+general feeling of amazement, without being able to explain it to
+himself. Dagobert and Faringhea were in a similar state of mind.
+
+"Who is this woman?" resumed Agricola, as he took the hand of Gabriel,
+which felt damp and icy cold.
+
+"Look!" said the young priest. "Those portraits have been there for more
+than a century and a half."
+
+He pointed to the paintings before which he was now seated, and
+Agricola, Dagobert, and Faringhea raised their eyes to either side of
+the fireplace. Three exclamations were now heard at once.
+
+"It is she--it is the same woman!" cried the smith, in amazement, "and
+her portrait has been here for a hundred and fifty years!"
+
+"What do I see?" cried Dagobert, as he gazed at the portrait of the man.
+"The friend and emissary of Marshal Simon. Yes! it is the same face that
+I saw last year in Siberia. Oh, yes! I recognize that wild and sorrowful
+air--those black eyebrows, which make only one!"
+
+"My eyes do not deceive me," muttered Faringhea to himself, shuddering
+with horror. "It is the same man, with the black mark on his forehead,
+that we strangled and buried on the banks of the Ganges--the same man,
+that one of the sons of Bowanee told me, in the ruins of Tchandi, had
+been met by him afterwards at one of the gates of Bombay--the man of the
+fatal curse, who scatters death upon his passage--and his picture has
+existed for a hundred and fifty years!"
+
+And, like Dagobert and Agricola, the stranger could not withdraw his
+eyes from that strange portrait.
+
+"What a mysterious resemblance!" thought Father d'Aigrigny. Then, as if
+struck with a sudden idea, he said to Gabriel: "But this woman is the
+same that saved your life in America?"
+
+"It is the same," answered Gabriel, with emotion; "and yet she told me
+she was going towards the North," added the young priest, speaking to
+himself.
+
+"But how came she in this house?" said Father d'Aigrigny, addressing
+Samuel. "Answer me! did this woman come in with you, or before you?"
+
+"I came in first, and alone, when this door was first opened since a
+century and half," said Samuel, gravely.
+
+"Then how can you explain the presence of this woman here?" said Father
+d'Aigrigny.
+
+"I do not try to explain it," said the Jew. "I see, I believe, and now I
+hope." added he, looking at Bathsheba with an indefinable expression.
+
+"But you ought to explain the presence of this woman!" said Father
+d'Aigrigny, with vague uneasiness. "Who is she? How came she hither?"
+
+"All I know is, sir, that my father has often told me; there are
+subterraneous communications between this house and distant parts of the
+quarter."
+
+"Oh! then nothing can be clearer," said Father d'Aigrigny; "it only
+remains to be known what this woman intends by coming hither. As for
+her singular resemblance to this portrait, it is one of the freaks of
+nature."
+
+Rodin had shared in the general emotion, at the apparition of this
+mysterious woman. But when he saw that she had delivered a sealed packet
+to the notary, the socius, instead of thinking of the strangeness of
+this unexpected vision, was only occupied with a violent desire to quit
+the house with the treasure which had just fallen to the Company. He
+felt a vague anxiety at sight of the envelope with the black seal, which
+the protectress of Gabriel had delivered to the notary, and was still
+held mechanically in his hands. The socius, therefore, judging this a
+very good opportunity to walk off with the casket, during the general
+silence and stupor which still continued, slightly touched Father
+d'Aigrigny's elbow, made him a sign of intelligence, and, tucking the
+cedar-wood chest under his arm, was hastening towards the door.
+
+"One moment, sir," said Samuel, rising, and standing in his path; "I
+request M. Notary to examine the envelope, that has just been delivered
+to him. You may then go out."
+
+"But, sir," said Rodin, trying to force a passage, "the question is
+definitively decided in favor of Father d'Aigrigny. Therefore, with your
+permission--"
+
+"I tell you, sir," answered the old man, in a loud voice, "that this
+casket shall not leave the house, until M. Notary has examined the
+envelope just delivered to him!"
+
+These words drew the attention of all, Rodin was forced to retrace his
+steps. Notwithstanding the firmness of his character, the Jew shuddered
+at the look of implacable hate which Rodin turned upon him at this
+moment.
+
+Yielding to the wish of Samuel, the notary examined the envelope with
+attention. "Good Heaven!" he cried suddenly; "what do I see?--Ah! so
+much the better!"
+
+At this exclamation all eyes turned upon the notary. "Oh! read, read,
+sir!" cried Samuel, clasping his hands together. "My presentiments have
+not then deceived me!"
+
+"But, sir," said Father d'Aigrigny to the notary, for he began to share
+in the anxiety of Rodin, "what is this paper?"
+
+"A codicil," answered the notary; "a codicil, which reopens the whole
+question."
+
+"How, sir?" cried Father d'Aigrigny, in a fury, as he hastily drew
+nearer to the notary, "reopens the whole question! By what right?"
+
+"It is impossible," added Rodin. "We protest against it.
+
+"Gabriel! father! listen," cried Agricola, "all is not lost. There is
+yet hope. Do you hear, Gabriel? There is yet hope."
+
+"What do you say?" exclaimed the young priest, rising, and hardly
+believing the words of his adopted brother.
+
+"Gentlemen," said the notary; "I will read to you the superscription
+of this envelope. It changes, or rather, it adjourns, the whole of the
+testamentary provisions."
+
+"Gabriel!" cried Agricola, throwing himself on the neck of the
+missionary, "all is adjourned, nothing is lost!"
+
+"Listen, gentlemen," said the notary; and he read as follows:
+
+"'This is a Codicil, which for reasons herein stated, adjourns and
+prorogues to the 1st day of June, 1832, though without any other change,
+all the provisions contained in the testament made by me, at one o'clock
+this afternoon. The house shall be reclosed, and the funds left in the
+hands of the same trustee, to be distributed to the rightful claimants
+on the 1st of June, 1832.
+
+"'Villetaneuse, this 13th of February, 1682, eleven o'clock at night.
+"'MARIUS DE RENNEPONT.'"
+
+"I protest against this codicil as a forgery!" cried Father d'Aigrigny
+livid with rage and despair.
+
+"The woman who delivered it to the notary is a suspicious character,"
+added Rodin. "The codicil has been forged."
+
+"No, sir," said the notary, severely; "I have just compared the two
+signatures, and they are absolutely alike. For the rest--what I said
+this morning, with regard to the absent heirs, is now applicable to
+you--the law is open; you may dispute the authenticity of this codicil.
+Meanwhile, everything will remain suspended--since the term for the
+adjustment of the inheritance is prolonged for three months and a half."
+
+When the notary had uttered these last words, Rodin's nails dripped
+blood; for the first time, his wan lips became red.
+
+"Oh, God! Thou hast heard and granted my prayer!" cried Gabriel,
+kneeling down with religious fervor, and turning his angelic face
+towards heaven. "Thy sovereign justice has not let iniquity triumph!"
+
+"What do you say, my brave boy?" cried Dagobert, who, in the first
+tumult of joy, had not exactly understood the meaning of the codicil.
+
+"All is put off, father!" exclaimed the smith; "the heirs will have
+three months and a half more to make their claim. And now that these
+people are unmasked," added Agricola, pointing to Rodin and Father
+d'Aigrigny, "we have nothing more to fear from them. We shall be on
+our guard; and the orphans, Mdlle. de Cardoville, my worthy master, M.
+Hardy, and this young Indian, will all recover their own."
+
+We must renounce the attempt to paint the delight, the transport of
+Gabriel and Agricola, of Dagobert, and Marshal Simon's father, of Samuel
+and Bathsheba. Faringhea alone remained in gloomy silence, before the
+portrait of the man with the black-barred forehead. As for the fury of
+Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin, when they saw Samuel retake possession of
+the casket, we must also renounce any attempt to describe it. On the
+notary's suggestion, who took with him the codicil, to have it opened
+according to the formalities of the law, Samuel agreed that it would be
+more prudent to deposit in the Bank of France the securities of immense
+value that were now known to be in his possession.
+
+While all the generous hearts, which had for a moment suffered so much,
+were overflowing with happiness, hope, and joy, Father d'Aigrigny and
+Rodin quitted the house with rage and death in their souls. The reverend
+father got into his carriage, and said to his servants: "To Saint-Dizier
+House!"--Then, worn out and crushed, he fell back upon the seat, and hid
+his face in his hands, while he uttered a deep groan. Rodin sat next to
+him, and looked with a mixture of anger and disdain at this so dejected
+and broken-spirited man.
+
+"The coward!" said he to himself. "He despairs--and yet--"
+
+A quarter of an hour later, the carriage stopped in the Rue de Babylone,
+in the court-yard of Saint-Dizier House.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE FIRST LAST, AND THE LAST FIRST.
+
+The carriage had travelled rapidly to Saint-Dizier House. During all
+the way, Rodin remained mute, contenting himself with observing Father
+d'Aigrigny, and listening to him, as he poured forth his grief and fury
+in a long monologue, interrupted by exclamations, lamentations, and
+bursts of rage, directed against the strokes of that inexorable destiny,
+which had ruined in a moment the best founded hopes. When the carriage
+entered the courtyard, and stopped before the portico, the princess's
+face could be seen through one of the windows, half hidden by the folds
+of a curtain; in her burning anxiety, she came to see if it was really
+Father d'Aigrigny who arrived at the house. Still more, in defiance
+of all ordinary rules, this great lady, generally so scrupulous as to
+appearances, hurried from her apartment, and descended several steps
+of the staircase, to meet Father d'Aigrigny, who was coming up with
+a dejected air. At sight of the livid and agitated countenance of the
+reverend father, the princess stopped suddenly, and grew pale. She
+suspected that all was lost. A look rapidly exchanged with her old lover
+left her no doubt of the issue she so much feared. Rodin humbly followed
+the reverend father, and both, preceded by the princess, entered the
+room. The door once closed, the princess, addressing Father d'Aigrigny,
+exclaimed with unspeakable anguish: "What has happened?"
+
+Instead of answering this question, the reverend father, his eyes
+sparkling with rage, his lips white, his features contracted, looked
+fixedly at the princess, and said to her: "Do you know the amount of
+this inheritance, that we estimated at forty millions?"
+
+"I understand," cried the princess; "we have been deceived. The
+inheritance amounts to nothing, and all you have dare has been in vain."
+
+"Yes, it has indeed been in vain," answered the reverend father,
+grinding his teeth with rage; "it was no question of forty millions, but
+of two hundred and twelve millions.
+
+"Two hundred and twelve millions!" repeated the princess in amazement,
+as she drew back a step. "It is impossible!"
+
+"I tell you I saw the vouchers, which were examined by the notary."
+
+"Two hundred and twelve millions?" resumed the princess, with deep
+dejection. "It is an immense and sovereign power--and you have
+renounced--you have not struggled for it, by every possible means, and
+till the last moment?"
+
+"Madame, I have done all that I could!--notwithstanding the treachery
+of Gabriel, who this very morning declared that he renounced us, and
+separated from the Society."
+
+"Ungrateful!" said the princess, unaffectedly.
+
+"The deed of gift, which I had the precaution to have prepared by the
+notary, was in such good, legal form, that in spite of the objections of
+that accursed soldier and his son, the notary had put me in possession
+of the treasure."
+
+"Two hundred and twelve millions!" repeated the princess clasping her
+hands. "Verily it is like a dream!"
+
+"Yes," replied Father d'Aigrigny, bitterly, "for us, this possession is
+indeed a dream, for a codicil has been discovered, which puts off for
+three months and a half all the testamentary provisions. Now that our
+very precautions have roused the suspicion of all these heirs--now that
+they know the enormous amount at stake--they will be upon their guard;
+and all is lost."
+
+"But who is the wretch that produced this codicil?"
+
+"A woman."
+
+"What woman?"
+
+"Some wandering creature, that Gabriel says he met in America, where she
+saved his life."
+
+"And how could this woman be there--how could she know the existence of
+this codicil?"
+
+"I think it was all arranged with a miserable Jew, the guardian of the
+house, whose family has had charge of the funds for three generations;
+he had no doubt some secret instructions, in case he suspected the
+detention of any of the heirs, for this Marius de Rennepont had foreseen
+that our Company would keep their eyes upon his race."
+
+"But can you not dispute the validity of this codicil?"
+
+"What, go to law in these times--litigate about a will--incur the
+certainty of a thousand clamors, with no security for success?--It is
+bad enough, that even this should get wind. Alas! it is terrible. So
+near the goal! after so much care and trouble. An affair that had been
+followed up with so much perseverance during a century and a half!"
+
+"Two hundred and twelve millions!" said the princess. "The Order would
+have had no need to look for establishments in foreign countries; with
+such resources, it would have been able to impose itself upon France."
+
+"Yes," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, with bitterness; "by means of
+education, we might have possessed ourselves of the rising generation.
+The power is altogether incalculable." Then, stamping with his foot, he
+resumed: "I tell you, that it is enough to drive one mad with rage! an
+affair so wisely, ably, patiently conducted!"
+
+"Is there no hope?"
+
+"Only that Gabriel may not revoke his donation, in as far as concerns
+himself. That alone would be a considerable sum--not less than thirty
+millions."
+
+"It is enormous--it is almost what you hoped," said the princess; "then
+why despair?"
+
+"Because it is evident that Gabriel will dispute this donation. However
+legal it may be, he will find means to annul it, now that he is free,
+informed as to our designs, and surrounded by his adopted family. I tell
+you, that all is lost. There is no hope left. I think it will be even
+prudent to write to Rome, to obtain permission to leave Paris for a
+while. This town is odious to me!"
+
+"Oh, yes! I see that no hope is left--since you, my friend, have decided
+almost to fly."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny was completely discouraged and broken down; this
+terrible blow had destroyed all life and energy within him. He threw
+himself back in an arm-chair, quite overcome. During the preceding
+dialogue, Rodin was standing humbly near the door, with his old hat in
+his hand. Two or three times, at certain passages in the conversation
+between Father d'Aigrigny and the princess, the cadaverous face of the
+socius, whose wrath appeared to be concentrated, was slightly flushed,
+and his flappy eyelids were tinged with red, as if the blood mounted in
+consequence of an interior struggle; but, immediately after, his dull
+countenance resumed its pallid blue.
+
+"I must write instantly to Rome, to announce this defeat, which has
+become an event of the first importance, because it overthrows immense
+hopes," said Father d'Aigrigny, much depressed.
+
+The reverend father had remained seated; pointing to a table, he said to
+Rodin, with an abrupt and haughty air:
+
+"Write!"
+
+The socius placed his hat on the ground, answered with a respectful
+bow the command, and with stooping head and slanting walk, went to
+seat himself on a chair, that stood before a desk. Then, taking pen
+and paper, he waited, silent and motionless, for the dictation of his
+superior.
+
+"With your permission, princess?" said Father d'Aigrigny to Madame de
+Saint-Dizier. The latter answered by an impatient wave of the hand, as
+if she reproached him for the formal demand at such a time. The reverend
+father bowed, and dictated these words in a hoarse and hollow voice:
+"All our hopes, which of late had become almost certainties, have been
+suddenly defeated. The affair of the Rennepont inheritance, in spite
+of all the care and skill employed upon it, has completely and
+finally failed. At the point to which matters had been brought, it is
+unfortunately worse than a failure; it is a most disastrous event for
+the Society, which was clearly entitled to this property, fraudulently
+withdrawn from a confiscation made in our favor. My conscience at least
+bears witness, that, to the last moment, I did all that was possible
+to defend and secure our rights. But I repeat, we must consider this
+important affair as lost absolutely and forever, and think no more about
+it."
+
+Thus dictating, Father d'Aigrigny's back was turned towards Rodin. At a
+sudden movement made by the socius, in rising and throwing his pen upon
+the table, instead of continuing to write, the reverend father turned
+round, and, looking at Rodin with profound astonishment, said to him:
+"Well! what are you doing?"
+
+"It is time to end this--the man is mad!" said Rodin to himself, as he
+advanced slowly towards the fireplace.
+
+"What! you quit your place--you cease writing?" said the reverend
+father, in amazement. Then, addressing the princess, who shared in his
+astonishment, he added, as he glanced contemptuously at the socius, "He
+is losing his senses."
+
+"Forgive him," replied Mme. de Saint-Dizier; "it is, no doubt, the
+emotion caused by the ruin of this affair."
+
+"Thank the princess, return to your place, and continue to write," said
+Father d'Aigrigny to Rodin, in a tone of disdainful compassion, as, with
+imperious finger, he pointed to the table.
+
+The socius, perfectly indifferent to this new order, approached the
+fireplace, drew himself up to his full height as he turned his arched
+back, planted himself firmly on his legs, stamped on the carpet with the
+heel of his clumsy, greasy shoes, crossed his hands beneath the flaps of
+his old, spotted coat, and, lifting his head, looked fixedly at
+Father d'Aigrigny. The socius had not spoken a word, but his hideous
+countenance, now flushed, suddenly revealed such a sense of his
+superiority, and such sovereign contempt for Father d'Aigrigny, mingled
+with so calm and serene a daring, that the reverend father and the
+princess were quite confounded by it. They felt themselves overawed by
+this little old man, so sordid and so ugly. Father d'Aigrigny knew too
+well the customs of the Company, to believe his humble secretary capable
+of assuming so suddenly these airs of transcendent superiority without
+a motive, or rather, without a positive right. Late, too late, the
+reverend father perceived, that this subordinate agent might be partly
+a spy, partly an experienced assistant, who, according to the
+constitutions of the Order, had the power and mission to depose and
+provisionally replace, in certain urgent cases, the incapable person
+over whom he was stationed as a guard. The reverend father was not
+deceived. From the general to the provincials, and to the rectors of
+the colleges, all the superior members of the Order have stationed
+near them, often without their knowledge, and in apparently the lowest
+capacities, men able to assume their functions at any given moment, and
+who, with this view, constantly keep up a direct correspondence with
+Rome.
+
+From the moment Rodin had assumed this position, the manners of Father
+d'Aigrigny, generally so haughty, underwent a change. Though it cost him
+a good deal, he said with hesitation, mingled with deference: "You have,
+no doubt, the right to command me--who hitherto have commanded." Rodin,
+without answering, drew from his well-rubbed and greasy pocket-book a
+slip of paper, stamped upon both sides, on which were written several
+lines in Latin. When he had read it, Father d'Aigrigny pressed this
+paper respectfully, even religiously, to his lips: then returned it to
+Rodin, with a low bow. When he again raised his head, he was purple with
+shame and vexation. Notwithstanding his habits of passive obedience
+and immutable respect for the will of the Order, he felt a bitter and
+violent rage at seeing himself thus abruptly deposed from power. That
+was not all. Though, for a long time past, all relations in gallantry
+had ceased between him and Mme. de Saint-Dizier, the latter was not the
+less a woman; and for him to suffer this humiliation in presence of a
+woman was, undoubtedly, cruel, as, notwithstanding his entrance into the
+Order, he had not wholly laid aside the character of man of the world.
+Moreover, the princess, instead of appearing hurt and offended by this
+sudden transformation of the superior into a subaltern, and of the
+subaltern into a superior, looked at Rodin with a sort of curiosity
+mingled with interest. As a woman--as a woman, intensely ambitious,
+seeking to connect herself with every powerful influence--the princess
+loved this strange species of contrast. She found it curious and
+interesting to see this man, almost in rags, mean in appearance, and
+ignobly ugly, and but lately the most humble of subordinates look down
+from the height of his superior intelligence upon the nobleman by
+birth, distinguished for the elegance of his manners, and just before so
+considerable a personage in the Society. From that moment, as the more
+important personage of the two, Rodin completely took the place of
+Father d'Aigrigny in the princess's mind. The first pang of humiliation
+over, the reverend father, though his pride bled inwardly, applied all
+his knowledge of the world to behave with redoubled courtesy towards
+Rodin, who had become his superior by this abrupt change of fortune. But
+the ex-socius, incapable of appreciating, or rather of acknowledging,
+such delicate shades of manner, established himself at once, firmly,
+imperiously, brutally, in his new position, not from any reaction of
+offended pride, but from a consciousness of what he was really worth.
+A long acquaintance with Father d'Aigrigny had revealed to him the
+inferiority of the latter.
+
+"You threw away your pen," said Father d'Aigrigny to Rodin with extreme
+deference, "while I was dictating a note for Rome. Will you do me the
+favor to tell me how I have acted wrong?"
+
+"Directly," replied Rodin, in his sharp, cutting voice. "For a long time
+this affair appeared to me above your strength; but I abstained from
+interfering. And yet what mistakes! what poverty of invention; what
+coarseness in the means employed to bring it to bear!"
+
+"I can hardly understand your reproaches," answered Father d'Aigrigny,
+mildly, though a secret bitterness made its way through his apparent
+submission. "Was not the success certain, had it not been for this
+codicil? Did you not yourself assist in the measures that you now
+blame?"
+
+"You commanded, then, and it was my duty to obey. Besides, you were just
+on the point of succeeding--not because of the means you had taken--but
+in spite of those means, with all their awkward and revolting
+brutality."
+
+"Sir--you are severe," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"I am just. One has to be prodigiously clever, truly, to shut up any one
+in a room, and then lock the door! And yet, what else have you done? The
+daughters of General Simon?--imprisoned at Leipsic, shut up in a
+convent at Paris! Adrienne de Cardoville?--placed in confinement.
+Sleepinbuff--put in prison. Djalma?--quieted by a narcotic. One only
+ingenious method, and a thousand times safer, because it acted morally,
+not materially, was employed to remove M. Hardy. As for your other
+proceedings--they were all bad, uncertain, dangerous. Why? Because they
+were violent, and violence provokes violence. Then it is no longer a
+struggle of keen, skillful, persevering men, seeing through the darkness
+in which they walk, but a match of fisticuffs in broad day. Though we
+should be always in action, we should always shrink from view; and yet
+you could find no better plan than to draw universal attention to us
+by proceedings at once open and deplorably notorious. To make them more
+secret, you call in the guard, the commissary of police, the jailers,
+for your accomplices. It is pitiable, sir; nothing but the most
+brilliant success could cover such wretched folly; and this success has
+been wanting."
+
+"Sir," said Father d'Aigrigny, deeply hurt, for the Princess de Saint
+Dizier, unable to conceal the sort of admiration caused in her by the
+plain, decisive words of Rodin, looked at her old lover, with an air
+that seemed to say, "He is right;"--"sir, you are more than severe in
+your judgment; and, notwithstanding the deference I owe to you, I must
+observe, that I am not accustomed--"
+
+"There are many other things to which you are not accustomed," said
+Rodin, harshly interrupting the reverend father; "but you will accustom
+yourself to them. You have hitherto had a false idea of your own value.
+There is the old leaven of the soldier and the worlding fermenting
+within you, which deprives your reason of the coolness, lucidity, and
+penetration that it ought to possess. You have been a fine military
+officer, brisk and gay, foremost in wars and festivals, with pleasures
+and women. These things have half worn you out. You will never be
+anything but a subaltern; you have been thoroughly tested. You will
+always want that vigor and concentration of mind which governs men and
+events. That vigor and concentration of mind I have--and do you know
+why? It is because, solely devoted to the service of the Company, I have
+always been ugly, dirty, unloved, unloving--I have all my manhood about
+me!"
+
+In pronouncing these words, full of cynical pride, Rodin was truly
+fearful. The princess de Saint-Dizier thought him almost handsome by his
+energy and audacity.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny, feeling himself overawed, invincibly and inexorably,
+by this diabolical being, made a last effort to resist and exclaimed,
+"Oh! sir, these boastings are no proofs of valor and power. We must see
+you at work."
+
+"Yes," replied Rodin, coldly; "do you know at what work?" Rodin was fond
+of this interrogative mode of expression. "Why, at the work that you so
+basely abandon."
+
+"What!" cried the Princess de Saint-Dizier; for Father d'Aigrigny,
+stupefied at Rodin's audacity, was unable to utter a word.
+
+"I say," resumed Rodin, slowly, "that I undertake to bring to a good
+issue this affair of the Rennepont inheritance, which appears to you so
+desperate."
+
+"You?" cried Father d'Aigrigny. "You?" "I."
+
+"But they have unmasked our maneuvers."
+
+"So much the better; we shall be obliged to invent others."
+
+"But they; will suspect us in everything."
+
+"So much the better; the success that is difficult is the most certain."
+
+"What! do you hope to make Gabriel consent not to revoke his donation,
+which is perhaps illegal?"
+
+"I mean to bring in to the coffers of the Company the whole of the two
+hundred and twelve millions, of which they wish to cheat us. Is that
+clear?"
+
+"It is clear--but impossible."
+
+"And I tell you that it is, and must be possible. Do you not understand,
+short-sighted as you are!" cried Rodin, animated to such a degree that
+his cadaverous face became slightly flushed; "do you not understand that
+it is no longer in our choice to hesitate? Either these two hundred
+and twelve millions must be ours--and then the re-establishment of our
+sovereign influence in France is sure--for, in these venal times, with
+such a sum at command, you may bribe or overthrow a government, or light
+up the flame of civil war, and restore legitimacy, which is our natural
+ally, and, owing all to us, would give us all in return--"
+
+"That is clear," cried the princess, clasping her hands in admiration.
+
+"If, on the contrary," resumed Rodin, "these two hundred and twelve
+millions fall into the hands of the family of the Renneponts, it will
+be our ruin and our destruction. We shall create a stock of bitter and
+implacable enemies. Have you not heard the execrable designs of that
+Rennepont, with regard to the association he recommends, and which, by
+an accursed fatality, his race are just in a condition to realize? Think
+of the forces that would rally round these millions. There would be
+Marshal Simon, acting in the name of his daughters--that is, the man of
+the people become a duke, without being the vainer for it, which secures
+his influence with the mob, because military spirit and Bonapartism
+still represent, in the eyes of the French populace, the traditions of
+national honor and glory. There would be Francis Hardy, the liberal,
+independent, enlightened citizen, the type of the great manufacturer,
+the friend of progress, the benefactor of his workmen. There would be
+Gabriel--the good priest, as they say!--the apostle of the primitive
+gospel, the representative of the democracy of the church, of the poor
+country curate as opposed to the rich bishop, the tiller of the vine as
+opposed to him who sits in the shade of it; the propagator of all
+the ideas of fraternity, emancipation, progress--to use their own
+jargon--and that, not in the name of revolutionary and incendiary
+politics, but in the name of a religion of charity, love, and peace--to
+speak as they speak. There, too, would be Adrienne de Cardoville, the
+type of elegance, grace, and beauty, the priestess of the senses, which
+she deifies by refining and cultivating them. I need not tell you of
+her wit and audacity; you know them but too well. No one could be more
+dangerous to us than this creature, a patrician in blood, a plebeian in
+heart, a poet in imagination. Then, too, there would be Prince Djalma,
+chivalrous, bold, ready for adventure, knowing nothing of civilized
+life, implacable in his hate as in his affection, a terrible instrument
+for whoever can make use of him. In this detestable family, even such
+a wretch as Sleepinbuff, who in himself is of no value, raised and
+purified by the contact of these generous and far from narrow natures
+(as they call them), might represent the working class, and take a large
+share in the influence of that association. Now do you not think that if
+all these people, already exasperated against us, because (as they say)
+we have wished to rob them, should follow the detestable counsels of
+this Rennepont--should unite their forces around this immense fortune,
+which would strengthen them a hundred-fold--do you not think that, if
+they declare a deadly war against us, they will be the most dangerous
+enemies that we have ever had? I tell you that the Company has never
+been in such serious peril; yes, it is now a question of life and
+death. We must no longer defend ourselves, but lead the attack, so as
+to annihilate this accursed race of Rennepont, and obtain possession of
+these millions."
+
+At this picture, drawn by Rodin with a feverish animation, which had
+only the more influence from its unexpectedness, the princess and Father
+d'Aigrigny looked at each other in confusion.
+
+"I confess," said the reverend father to Rodin, "I had not considered
+all the dangerous consequences of this association, recommended by M. de
+Rennepont. I believe that the heir, from the characters we know them to
+be possessed of, would wish to realize this Utopia. The peril is great
+and pressing; what is to be done?"
+
+"What, sir? You have to act upon ignorant, heroic, enthusiastic natures
+like Djalma's--sensual and eccentric characters like Adrienne de
+Cardoville's--simple and ingenuous minds like Rose and Blanche
+Simon's--honest and frank dispositions like Francis Hardy's--angelic and
+pure souls like Gabriel's--brutal and stupid instincts like Jacques--and
+can you ask, 'What is to be done?'"
+
+"In truth, I do not understand you," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"I believe it. Your past conduct shows as much," replied Rodin,
+contemptuously. "You have had recourse to the lowest and most mechanical
+contrivances, instead of acting upon the noble and generous passions,
+which, once united, would constitute so formidable a bond; but which,
+now divided and isolated, are open to every surprise, every seduction,
+every attack! Do you, at length understand me? Not yet?" added Rodin,
+shrugging his shoulders. "Answer me--do people die of despair?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May not the gratitude of successful love reach the last limits of
+insane generosity?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May there not be such horrible deceptions, that suicide is the only
+refuge from frightful realities?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May not the excess of sensuality lead to the grave by a slow and
+voluptuous agony?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are there not in life such terrible circumstances that the most
+worldly, the firmest, the most impious characters, throw themselves
+blindly, overwhelmed with despair, into the arms of religion, and
+abandon all earthly greatness for sackcloth, and prayers, and solitude?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are there not a thousand occasions in which the reaction of the
+passions works the most extraordinary changes, and brings about the most
+tragic catastrophes in the life of man and woman?"
+
+"No doubt."
+
+"Well, then! why ask me, 'What is to be done?' What would you say, for
+example, if before three months are over, the most dangerous members of
+this family of the Renneponts should come to implore, upon their knees,
+admission to that very Society which they now hold in horror, and from
+which Gabriel has just separated?"
+
+"Such a conversion is impossible," cried Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Impossible? What were you, sir, fifteen years ago?" said Rodin. "An
+impious and debauched man of the world. And yet you came to us, and your
+wealth became ours. What! we have conquered princes, kings, popes; we
+have absorbed and extinguished in our unity magnificent intelligences,
+which, from afar, shone with too dazzling a light; we have all but
+governed two worlds; we have perpetuated our Society, full of life,
+rich and formidable, even to this day, through all the hate, and all the
+persecutions that have assailed us; and yet we shall not be able to
+get the better of a single family, which threatens our Company, and has
+despoiled us of a large fortune? What! we are not skillful enough to
+obtain this result without having recourse to awkward and dangerous
+violence? You do not know, then, the immense field that is thrown
+open by the mutually destructive power of human passions, skillfully
+combined, opposed, restrained, excited?--particularly," added Rodin,
+with a strange smile, "when, thanks to a powerful ally, these passions
+are sure to be redoubled in ardor and energy."
+
+"What ally?" asked Father d'Aigrigny, who, as well as the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier, felt a sort of admiration mixed with terror.
+
+"Yes," resumed Rodin, without answering the reverend father; "this
+formidable ally, who comes to our assistance, may bring about the most
+astonishing transformations--make the coward brave, and the impious
+credulous, and the gentle ferocious--"
+
+"But this ally!" cried the Princess, oppressed with a vague sense of
+fear. "This great and formidable ally--who is he?"
+
+"If he comes," resumed Rodin, still impassible, "the youngest and most
+vigorous, every moment in danger of death, will have no advantage over
+the sick man at his last gasp."
+
+"But who is this ally?" exclaimed Father d'Aigrigny, more and more
+alarmed, for as the picture became darker, Rodin's face become more
+cadaverous.
+
+"This ally, who can decimate a population, may carry away with him in
+the shroud that he drags at his heels, the whole of an accursed race;
+but even he must respect the life of that great intangible body, which
+does not perish with the death of its members--for the spirit of the
+Society of Jesus is immortal!"
+
+"And this ally?"
+
+"Oh, this ally," resumed Rodin, "who advances with slow steps, and whose
+terrible coming is announced by mournful presentiments--"
+
+"Is--"
+
+"The Cholera!"
+
+These words, pronounced by Rodin in an abrupt voice, made the Princess
+and Father d'Aigrigny grow pale and tremble. Rodin's look was gloomy and
+chilling, like a spectre's. For some moments, the silence of the
+tomb reigned in the saloon. Rodin was the first to break it. Still
+impassible, he pointed with imperious gesture to the table, where a few
+minutes before he had himself been humbly seated, and said in a sharp
+voice to Father d'Aigrigny, "Write!"
+
+The reverend father started at first with surprise; then, remembering
+that from a superior he had become an inferior, he rose, bowed lowly to
+Rodin, as he passed before him, seated himself at the table, took the
+pen, and said, "I am ready."
+
+Rodin dictated, and the reverend Father wrote as follows: "By the
+mismanagement of the Reverend Father d'Aigrigny, the affair of the
+inheritance of the Rennepont family has been seriously compromised.
+The sum amounts to two hundred and twelve millions. Notwithstanding
+the check we have received, we believe we may safely promise to prevent
+these Renneponts from injuring the Society, and to restore the two
+hundred and twelve millions to their legitimate possessors. We only ask
+for the most complete and extensive powers."
+
+A quarter of an hour after this scene, Rodin left Saint Dizier House,
+brushing with his sleeve the old greasy hat, I which he had pulled off
+to return the salute of the porter by a very low bow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE STRANGER.
+
+The following scene took place on the morrow of the day in which
+Father d'Aigrigny had been so rudely degraded by Rodin to the subaltern
+position formerly occupied by the socius.
+
+It is well known that the Rue Clovis is one of the most solitary streets
+in the Montagne St. Genevieve district. At the epoch of this narrative,
+the house No. 4, in this street, was composed of one principal building,
+through which ran a dark passage, leading to a little, gloomy court, at
+the end of which was a second building, in a singularly miserable and
+dilapidated condition. On the ground-floor, in front of the house, was a
+half-subterraneous shop, in which was sold charcoal, fagots, vegetables,
+and milk. Nine o'clock in the morning had just struck. The mistress of
+the shop, one Mother Arsene, an old woman of a mild, sickly countenance,
+clad in a brown stuff dress, with a red bandanna round her head, was
+mounted on the top step of the stairs which led down to her door, and
+was employed in setting out her goods--that is, on one side of her
+door she placed a tin milk-can, and on the other some bunches of stale
+vegetables, flanked with yellowed cabbages. At the bottom of the steps,
+in the shadowy depths of the cellar, one could see the light of the
+burning charcoal in a little stove. This shop situated at the side of
+the passage, served as a porter's lodge, and the old woman acted as
+portress. On a sudden, a pretty little creature, coming from the house,
+entered lightly and merrily the shop. This young girl was Rose-Pompon,
+the intimate friend of the Bacchanal Queen.--Rose-Pompon, a widow for
+the moment, whose bacchanalian cicisbeo was Ninny Moulin, the orthodox
+scapegrace, who, on occasion, after drinking his fill, could transform
+himself into Jacques Dumoulin, the religious writer, and pass gayly from
+dishevelled dances to ultramontane polemics, from Storm-blown Tulips to
+Catholic pamphlets.
+
+Rose-Pompon had just quitted her bed, as appeared by the negligence of
+her strange morning costume; no doubt, for want of any other head-dress,
+on her beautiful light hair, smooth and well-combed, was stuck jauntily
+a foraging-cap, borrowed from her masquerading costume. Nothing could
+be more sprightly than that face, seventeen years old, rosy, fresh,
+dimpled, and brilliantly lighted up by a pair of gay, sparkling blue
+eyes. Rose Pompon was so closely enveloped from the neck to the feet
+in a red and green plaid cloak, rather faded, that one could guess the
+cause of her modest embarrassment. Her naked feet, so white that one
+could not tell if she wore stockings or not, were slipped into little
+morocco shoes, with plated buckles. It was easy to perceive that her
+cloak concealed some article which she held in her hand.
+
+"Good-day, Rose-Pompon," said Mother Arsene with a kindly air; "you are
+early this morning. Had you no dance last night?"
+
+"Don't talk of it, Mother Arsene; I had no heart to dance. Poor
+Cephyse--the Bacchanal Queen--has done nothing but cry all night. She
+cannot console herself, that her lover should be in prison."
+
+"Now, look here, my girl," said the old woman, "I must speak to you
+about your friend Cephyse. You won't be angry?"
+
+"Am I ever angry?" said Rose-Pompon, shrugging her shoulders.
+
+"Don't you think that M. Philemon will scold me on his return?"
+
+"Scold you! what for?"
+
+"Because of his rooms, that you occupy."
+
+"Why, Mother Arsene, did not Philemon tell you, that, in his absence, I
+was to be as much mistress of his two rooms as I am of himself?"
+
+"I do not speak of you, but of your friend Cephyse, whom you have also
+brought to occupy M. Philemon's lodgings."
+
+"And where would she have gone without me, my good Mother Arsene? Since
+her lover was arrested, she has not dared to return home, because she
+owes ever so many quarters. Seeing her troubles. I said to her: 'Come,
+lodge at Philemon's. When he returns, we must find another place for
+you.'"
+
+"Well, little lovey--if you only assure me that M. Philemon will not be
+angry--"
+
+"Angry! for what? That we spoil his things? A fine set of things he has
+to spoil! I broke his last cup yesterday--and am forced to fetch the
+milk in this comic concern."
+
+So saying, laughing with all her might, Rose-Pompon drew her pretty
+little white arm from under her cloak, and presented to Mother Arsene
+one of those champagne glasses of colossal capacity, which hold about a
+bottle.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said the greengrocer in amazement; "it is like a glass
+trumpet."
+
+"It is Philemon's grand gala-glass, which they gave him when he took his
+degrees in boating," said Rose-Pompon, gravely.
+
+"And to think you must put your milk in it--I am really ashamed," said
+Mother Arsene.
+
+"So am I! If I were to meet any one on the stairs, holding this glass in
+my hand like a Roman candlestick, I should burst out laughing, and
+break the last remnant of Philemon's bazaar, and he would give me his
+malediction."
+
+"There is no danger that you will meet any one. The first-floor is gone
+out, and the second gets up very late."
+
+"Talking of lodgers," said Rose-Pompon, "is there not a room to let
+on the second-floor in the rear house? It might do for Cephyse, when
+Philemon comes back."
+
+"Yes, there is a little closet in the roof--just over the two rooms of
+the mysterious old fellow," said Mother Arsene.
+
+"Oh, yes! Father Charlemagne. Have you found out anything more about
+him?"
+
+"Dear me, no, my girl! only that he came this morning at break of day,
+and knocked at my shutters. 'Have you received a letter for me, my good
+lady?' said he--for he is always so polite, the dear man!--'No, sir,'
+said I.'--'Well, then, pray don't disturb yourself, my good lady!' said
+he; 'I will call again.' And so he went away."
+
+"Does he never sleep in the house?"
+
+"Never. No doubt, he lodges somewhere else--but he passes some hours
+here, once every four or five days."
+
+"And always comes alone?"
+
+"Always."
+
+"Are you quite sure? Does he never manage to slip in some little puss
+of a woman? Take care, or Philemon will give you notice to quit," said
+Rose-Pompon, with an air of mock-modesty.
+
+"M. Charlemagne with a woman! Oh, poor dear man!" said the greengrocer,
+raising her hands to heaven; "if you saw him, with his greasy hat, his
+old gray coat, his patched umbrella, and his simple face, he looks more
+like a saint than anything else."
+
+"But then, Mother Arsene, what does the saint do here, all alone for
+hours, in that hole at the bottom of the court, where one can hardly see
+at noon-day?"
+
+"That's what I ask myself, my dovey, what can he be doing? It can't be
+that he comes to look at his furniture, for he has nothing but a flock
+bed, a table, a stove, a chair, and an old trunk."
+
+"Somewhat in the style of Philemon's establishment," said Rose-Pompon.
+
+"Well, notwithstanding that, Rosey, he is as much afraid that any one
+should come into his room, as if we were all thieves, and his furniture
+was made of massy gold. He has had a patent lock put on the door, at his
+own expense; he never leaves me his key; and he lights his fire himself,
+rather than let anybody into his room."
+
+"And you say he is old?"
+
+"Yes, fifty or sixty."
+
+"And ugly?"
+
+"Just fancy, little viper's eyes, looking as if they had been bored with
+a gimlet, in a face as pale as death--so pale, that the lips are white.
+That's for his appearance. As for his character, the good old man's so
+polite!--he pulls off his hat so often, and makes you such low bows,
+that it is quite embarrassing."
+
+"But, to come back to the point," resumed Rose-Pompon, "what can he
+do all alone in those two rooms? If Cephyse should take the closet, on
+Philemon's return, we may amuse ourselves by finding out something about
+it. How much do they want for the little room?"
+
+"Why, it is in such bad condition, that I think the landlord would let
+it go for fifty or fifty-five francs a-year, for there is no room for a
+stove, and the only light comes through a small pane in the roof."
+
+"Poor Cephyse!" said Rose, sighing, and shaking her head sorrowfully.
+"After having amused herself so well, and flung away so much money with
+Jacques Rennepont, to live in such a place, and support herself by hard
+work! She must have courage!"
+
+"Why, indeed, there is a great difference between that closet and the
+coach-and-four in which Cephyse came to fetch you the other day, with
+all the fine masks, that looked so gay--particularly the fat man in
+the silver paper helmet, with the plume and the top boots. What a jolly
+fellow!"
+
+"Yes, Ninny Moulin. There is no one like him to dance the forbidden
+fruit. You should see him with Cephyse, the Bacchanal Queen. Poor
+laughing, noisy thing!--the only noise she makes now is crying."
+
+"Oh! these young people--these young people!" said the greengrocer.
+
+"Easy, Mother Arsene; you were young once."
+
+"I hardly know. I have always thought myself much the same as I am now."
+
+"And your lovers, Mother Arsene?"
+
+"Lovers! Oh, yes! I was too ugly for that--and too well taken care of."
+
+"Your mother looked after you, then?"
+
+"No, my girl; but I was harnessed."
+
+"Harnessed!" cried Rose-Pompon, in amazement, interrupting the dealer.
+
+"Yes,--harnessed to a water-cart, along with my brother. So, you see,
+when we had drawn like a pair of horses for eight or ten hours a day, I
+had no heart to think of nonsense."
+
+"Poor Mother Arsene, what a hard life," said Rose-Pompon with interest.
+
+"In the winter, when it froze, it was hard enough. I and my brother were
+obliged to be rough-shod, for fear of slipping."
+
+"What a trade for a woman! It breaks one's heart. And they forbid people
+to harness dogs!" added Rose-Pompon, sententiously.(21)
+
+"Why, 'tis true," resumed Mother Arsene. "Animals are sometimes better
+off than people. But what would you have? One must live, you know. As
+you make your bed, you must lie. It was hard enough, and I got a disease
+of the lungs by it--which was not my fault. The strap, with which I
+was harnessed, pressed so hard against my chest, that I could scarcely
+breathe: so I left the trade, and took to a shop, which is just to tell
+you, that if I had had a pretty face and opportunity, I might have done
+like so many other young people, who begin with laughter and finish--"
+
+"With a laugh t'other side of the mouth--you would say; it is true,
+Mother Arsene. But, you see, every one has not the courage to go into
+harness, in order to remain virtuous. A body says to herself, you must
+have some amusement while you are young and pretty--you will not always
+be seventeen years old--and then--and then--the world will end, or you
+will get married."
+
+"But, perhaps, it would have been better to begin by that."
+
+"Yes, but one is too stupid; one does not know how to catch the men, or
+to frighten them. One is simple, confiding, and they only laugh at us.
+Why, Mother Arsene, I am myself an example that would make you shudder;
+but 'tis quite enough to have had one's sorrows, without fretting one's
+self at the remembrance."
+
+"What, my beauty! you, so young and gay, have had sorrows?"
+
+"Ah, Mother Arsene! I believe you. At fifteen and a half I began to cry,
+and never left off till I was sixteen. That was enough, I think."
+
+"They deceived you, mademoiselle?"
+
+"They did worse. They treated me as they have treated many a poor girl,
+who had no more wish to go wrong than I had. My story is not a three
+volume one. My father and mother are peasants near Saint-Valery, but
+so poor--so poor, that having five children to provide for, they were
+obliged to send me, at eight years old, to my aunt, who was a charwoman
+here in Paris. The good woman took me out of charity, and very kind it
+was of her, for I earned but little. At eleven years of age she sent me
+to work in one of the factories of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. I don't
+wish to speak, ill of the masters of these factories; but what do they
+care, if little boys and girls are mixed up pell-mell with young men and
+women of eighteen to twenty? Now you see, there, as everywhere, some are
+no better than they should be; they are not particular in word or deed,
+and I ask you, what art example for the children, who hear and see more
+than you think for. Then, what happens? They get accustomed as they grow
+older, to hear and see things, that afterwards will not shock them at
+all."
+
+"What you say there is true, Rose-Pompon. Poor children! who takes any
+trouble about them?--not their father or mother, for they are at their
+daily work."
+
+"Yes, yes, Mother Arsene, it is all very well; it is easy to cry down a
+young girl that has gone wrong; but if they knew all the ins and
+outs, they would perhaps pity rather than blame her. To come back to
+myself--at fifteen years old I was tolerably pretty. One day I had
+something to ask of the head clerk. I went to him in his private room.
+He told me he would grant what I wanted, and even take me under his
+patronage, if I would listen to him; and he began by trying to kiss me.
+I resisted. Then he said to me:--'You refuse my offer? You shall have no
+more work; I discharge you from the factory.'"
+
+"Oh, the wicked man!" said Mother Arsene.
+
+"I went home all in tears, and my poor aunt encouraged me not to yield,
+and she would try to place me elsewhere. Yes--but it was impossible;
+the factories were all full. Misfortunes never come single; my aunt fell
+ill, and there was not a sou in the house; I plucked up my courage, and
+returned to entreat the mercy of the clerk at the factory. Nothing would
+do. 'So much the worse,' said he; 'you are throwing away your luck. If
+you had been more complying, I should perhaps have married you.' What
+could I do, Mother Arsene?--misery was staring me in the face; I had no
+work; my aunt was ill; the clerk said he would marry me--I did like so
+many others."
+
+"And when, afterwards, you spoke to him about marriage?"
+
+"Of course he laughed at me, and in six months left me. Then I wept
+all the tears in my body, till none remained--then I was very ill--and
+then--I console myself, as one may console one's self for anything.
+After some changes, I met with Philemon. It is upon him that I revenge
+myself for what others have done to me. I am his tyrant," added
+Rose-Pompon, with a tragic air, as the cloud passed away which had
+darkened her pretty face during her recital to Mother Arsene.
+
+"It is true," said the latter thoughtfully. "They deceive a poor
+girl--who is there to protect or defend her? Oh! the evil we do does not
+always come from ourselves, and then--"
+
+"I spy Ninny Moulin!" cried Rose-Pompon, interrupting the greengrocer,
+and pointing to the other side of the street. "How early abroad! What
+can he want with me?" and Rose wrapped herself still more closely and
+modestly in her cloak.
+
+It was indeed Jacques Dumoulin, who advanced with his hat stuck on one
+side, with rubicund nose and sparkling eye, dressed in a loose coat,
+which displayed the rotundity of his abdomen. His hands, one of which
+held a huge cane shouldered like a musket, were plunged into the vast
+pockets of his outer garment.
+
+Just as he reached the threshold of the door, no doubt with the
+intention of speaking to the portress, he perceived Rose-Pompon. "What!"
+he exclaimed, "my pupil already stirring? That is fortunate. I came on
+purpose to bless her at the rise of morn!"
+
+So saying, Ninny Moulin advanced with open arms towards Rose-Pompon who
+drew back a step.
+
+"What, ungrateful child!" resumed the writer on divinity. "Will you
+refuse me the morning's paternal kiss?"
+
+"I accept paternal kisses from none but Philemon. I had a letter from
+him yesterday, with a jar of preserves, two geese, a bottle of home-made
+brandy, and an eel. What ridiculous presents! I kept the drink, and
+changed the rest for two darling live pigeons, which I have installed
+in Philemon's cabinet, and a very pretty dove-cote it makes me. For the
+rest, my husband is coming back with seven hundred francs, which he got
+from his respectable family, under pretence of learning the bass viol,
+the cornet-a-piston, and the speaking trumpet, so as to make his way in
+society, and a slap-up marriage--to use your expression--my good child."
+
+"Well, my dear pupil, we will taste the family brandy, and enjoy
+ourselves in expectation of Philemon and his seven hundred francs."
+
+So saying, Ninny Moulin slapped the pockets of his waistcoat, which
+gave forth a metallic sound, and added: "I come to propose to you to
+embellish my life, to-day and to-morrow, and even the day after, if your
+heart is willing."
+
+"If the announcements are decent and fraternal, my heart does not say
+no."
+
+"Be satisfied; I will act by you as your grandfather, your great
+grandfather, your family portrait. We will have a ride, a dinner, the
+play, a fancy dress ball, and a supper afterwards. Will that suit you?"
+
+"On condition that poor Cephyse is to go with us. It will raise her
+spirits."
+
+"Well, Cephyse shall be of the party."
+
+"Have you come into a fortune, great apostle?"
+
+"Better than that, most rosy and pompous of all Rose-Pom, pons! I am
+head editor of a religious journal; and as I must make some appearance
+in so respectable a concern, I ask every month for four weeks in
+advance, and three days of liberty. On this condition, I consent to play
+the saint for twenty-seven days out of thirty, and to be always as grave
+and heavy as the paper itself."
+
+"A journal! that will be something droll, and dance forbidden steps all
+alone on the tables of the cafes."
+
+"Yes, it will be droll enough; but not for everybody. They are rich
+sacristans, who pay the expenses. They don't look to money, provided the
+journal bites, tears, burns, pounds, exterminates and destroys. On my
+word of honor, I shall never have been in such a fury!" added Ninny
+Moulin, with a loud, hoarse laugh. "I shall wash the wounds of my
+adversaries with venom of the finest vintage, and gall of the first
+quality."
+
+For his peroration, Ninny Moulin imitated the pop of uncorking a bottle
+of champagne--which made Rose-Pompon laugh heartily.
+
+"And what," resumed she, "will be the name of your journal of
+sacristans?"
+
+"It will be called 'Neighborly Love.'"
+
+"Come! that is a very pretty name."
+
+"Wait a little! there is a second title."
+
+"Let us hear it."
+
+"'Neighborly Love; or, the Exterminator of the Incredulous, the
+Indifferent, the Lukewarm, and Others,' with this motto from the great
+Bossuet: 'Those who are not for us are against us.'"
+
+"That is what Philemon says in the battles at the Chaumiere, when he
+shakes his cane."
+
+"Which proves, that the genius of the Eagle of Meaux is universal. I
+only reproach him for having been jealous of Moliere."
+
+"Bah! actor's jealousy," said Rose-Pompon.
+
+"Naughty girl!" cried Ninny Moulin, threatening her with his finger.
+
+"But if you are going to exterminate Madame de la Sainte-Colombo, who is
+somewhat lukewarm--how about your marriage?"
+
+"My journal will advance it, on the contrary. Only think! editor-In
+chief is a superb position; the sacristans will praise, and push, and
+support, and bless me; I shall get La-Sainte-Colombe--and then, what a
+life I'll lead!"
+
+At this moment, a postman entered the shop, and delivered a letter to
+the greengrocer, saying: "For M. Charlemagne, post-paid!"
+
+"My!" said Rose-Pompon; "it is for the little mysterious old man, who
+has such extraordinary ways. Does it come from far?"
+
+"I believe you; it comes from Italy, from Rome," said Ninny Moulin,
+looking in his turn at the letter, which the greengrocer held in her
+hand. "Who is the astonishing little old man of whom you speak?"
+
+"Just imagine to yourself, my great apostle," said Rose-Pompon, "a
+little old man, who has two rooms at the bottom of that court. He never
+sleeps there, but comes from time to time, and shuts himself up for
+hours, without ever allowing any one to enter his lodging, and without
+any one knowing what he does there."
+
+"He is a conspirator," said Ninny Moulin, laughing, "or else a comer."
+
+"Poor dear man," said Mother Arsene, "what has he done with his false
+money? He pays me always in sous for the bit of bread and the radish I
+furnish him for his breakfast."
+
+"And what is the name of this mysterious chap?" asked Dumoulin.
+
+"M. Charlemagne," said the greengrocer. "But look, surely one speaks of
+the devil, one is sure to see his horns."
+
+"Where's the horns?"
+
+"There, by the side of the house--that little old man, who walks with
+his neck awry, and his umbrella under his arm."
+
+"M. Rodin!" ejaculated Ninny Moulin, retreating hastily, and descending
+three steps into the shop, in order not to be seen. Then he added. "You
+say, that this gentleman calls himself--"
+
+"M. Charlemagne--do you know him?" asked the greengrocer.
+
+"What the devil does he do here, under a false name?" said Jacques
+Dumoulin to himself.
+
+"You know him?" said Rose-Pompon, with impatience. "You are quite
+confused."
+
+"And this gentleman has two rooms in this house, and comes here
+mysteriously," said Jacques Dumoulin, more and more surprised.
+
+"Yes," resumed Rose-Pompon; "you can see his windows from Philemon's
+dove-cote."
+
+"Quick! quick! let me go into the passage, that I may not meet him,"
+said Dumoulin.
+
+And, without having been perceived by Rodin, he glided from the shop
+into the passage, and thence mounted to the stairs, which led to the
+apartment occupied by Rose-Pompon.
+
+"Good-morning, M. Charlemagne," said Mother Arsene to Rodin, who made
+his appearance on the threshold. "You come twice in a day; that is
+right, for your visits are extremely rare."
+
+"You are too polite, my good lady," said Rodin, with a very courteous
+bow; and he entered the shop of the greengrocer.
+
+(21) There are, really, ordinances, full of a touching interest for the
+canine race, which forbid the harnessing of dogs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE DEN.
+
+Rodin's countenance, when he entered Mother Arsene's shop, was
+expressive of the most simple candor. He leaned his hands on the knob of
+his umbrella, and said: "I much regret, my good lady, that I roused you
+so early this morning."
+
+"You do not come often enough, my dear sir, for me to find fault with
+you."
+
+"How can I help it, my good lady? I live in the country, and only come
+hither from time to time to settle my little affairs."
+
+"Talking of that sir, the letter you expected yesterday has arrived
+this morning. It is large, and comes from far. Here it is," said the
+greengrocer, drawing it from her pocket; "it cost nothing for postage."
+
+"Thank you, my dear lady," said Rodin, taking the letter with apparent
+indifference, and putting it into the side-pocket of his great-coat,
+which he carefully buttoned over.
+
+"Are you going up to your rooms, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my good, lady."
+
+"Then I will get ready your little provisions," said Mother Arsene; "as
+usual, I suppose, my dear sir?"
+
+"Just as usual."
+
+"It shall be ready in the twinkling of an eye, sir."
+
+So saying, the greengrocer took down an old basket; after throwing
+into it three or four pieces of turf, a little bundle of wood, and some
+charcoal, she covered all this fuel with a cabbage leaf; then, going to
+the further end of the shop, she took from a chest a large round loaf,
+cut off a slice, and selecting a magnificent radish with the eye of a
+connoisseur, divided it in two, made a hole in it, which she filled with
+gray salt joined the two pieces together again, and placed it carefully
+by the side of the bread, on the cabbage leaf which separated the
+eatables from the combustibles. Finally, taking some embers from the
+stove, she put them into a little earthen pot, containing ashes, which
+she placed also in the basket.
+
+Then, reascending to her top step, Mother Arsene said to Rodin: "Here is
+your basket, sir."
+
+"A thousand thanks, my good lady," answered Rodin, and plunging his
+hand into the pocket of his trousers, he drew forth eight sous, which he
+counted out only one by one to the greengrocer, and said to her, as he
+carried off his store: "Presently, when I come down again, I will return
+your basket as usual."
+
+"Quite at your service, my dear sir, quite at your service," said Mother
+Arsene.
+
+Rodin tucked his umbrella under his left arm, took up the greengrocer's
+basket with his right hand, entered the dark passage, crossed the little
+court and mounted with light step to the second story of a dilapidated
+building; there, drawing a key from his pocket, he opened a door, which
+he locked carefully after him. The first of the two rooms which he
+occupied was completely unfurnished, as for the second, it is impossible
+to imagine a more gloomy and miserable den. Papering so much worn, torn
+and faded, that no one could recognize its primitive color, bedecked
+the walls. A wretched flock-bed, covered with a moth-fretted blanket; a
+stool, and a little table of worm-eaten wood; an earthenware stove, as
+cracked as old china; a trunk with a padlock, placed under the bed--such
+was the furniture of this desolate hole. A narrow window, with dirty
+panes, hardly gave any light to this room, which was almost deprived
+of air by the height of the building in front; two old cotton pocket
+handkerchiefs, fastened together with pins, and made to slide upon a
+string stretched across the window, served for curtains. The plaster
+of the roof, coming through the broken and disjointed tiles, showed the
+extreme neglect of the inhabitant of this abode. After locking his door,
+Rodin threw his hat and umbrella on the bed, placed his basket on the
+ground, set the radish and bread on the table, and kneeling down before
+his stove, stuffed it with fuel, and lighted it by blowing with vigorous
+lungs on the embers contained in his earthen pot.
+
+When, to use the consecrated expression, the stove began to draw, Rodin
+spread out the handkerchiefs, which served him for curtains; then,
+thinking himself quite safe from every eye, he took from the side-pocket
+of his great-coat the letter that Mother Arsene had given him. In doing
+so, he brought out several papers and different articles; one of these
+papers, folded into a thick and rumpled packet, fell upon the table,
+and flew open. It contained a silver cross of the Legion of Honor, black
+with time. The red ribbon of this cross had almost entirely lost its
+original color. At sight of this cross, which he replaced in his pocket
+with the medal of which Faringhea had despoiled Djalma, Rodin shrugged
+his shoulders with a contemptuous and sardonic air; then, producing his
+large silver watch, he laid it on the table by the side of the letter
+from Rome. He looked at this letter with a singular mixture of suspicion
+and hope, of fear, and impatient curiosity. After a moment's reflection,
+he prepared to unseal the envelope; but suddenly he threw it down again
+upon the table, as if, by a strange caprice, he had wished to prolong
+for a few minutes that agony of uncertainty, as poignant and irritating
+as the emotion of the gambler.
+
+Looking at his watch, Rodin resolved not to open the letter, until the
+hand should mark half-past nine, of which it still wanted seven minutes.
+In one of those whims of puerile fatalism, from which great minds have
+not been exempt, Rodin said to himself: "I burn with impatience to open
+this letter. If I do not open it till half-past nine, the news will be
+favorable." To employ these minutes, Rodin took several turns up and
+down the room, and stood in admiring contemplation before two old
+prints, stained with damp and age, and fastened to the wall by rusty
+nails. The first of these works of art--the only ornaments with which
+Rodin had decorated this hole--was one of those coarse pictures,
+illuminated with red, yellow, green, and blue, such as are sold at
+fairs; an Italian inscription announced that this print had been
+manufactured at Rome. It represented a woman covered with rags, bearing
+a wallet, and having a little child upon her knees; a horrible hag of
+a fortune-teller held in her hands the hand of the little child, and
+seemed to read there his future fate, for these words in large blue
+letters issued from her mouth: "Sara Papa" (he shall be Pope).
+
+The second of these works of art, which appeared to inspire Rodin with
+deep meditations, was an excellent etching, whose careful finish and
+bold, correct drawing, contrasted singularly with the coarse coloring
+of the other picture. This rare and splendid engraving, which had cost
+Rodin six louis (an enormous expense for him), represented a young boy
+dressed in rags. The ugliness of his features was compensated by the
+intellectual expression of his strongly marked countenance. Seated on
+a stone, surrounded by a herd of swine, that he seemed employed in
+keeping, he was seen in front, with his elbow resting on his knee, and
+his chin in the palm of his hand. The pensive and reflective attitude
+of this young man, dressed as a beggar, the power expressed in his large
+forehead, the acuteness of his penetrating glance, and the firm lines
+of the mouth, seemed to reveal indomitable resolution, combined with
+superior intelligence and ready craft. Beneath this figure, the emblems
+of the papacy encircled a medallion, in the centre of which was the
+head of an old man, the lines of which, strongly marked, recalled in
+a striking manner, notwithstanding their look of advanced age, the
+features of the young swineherd. This engraving was entitled THE YOUTH
+of SIXTUS V.; the color print was entitled The Prediction.(22)
+
+In contemplating these prints more and more nearly, with ardent and
+inquiring eye, as though he had asked for hopes or inspirations from
+them, Rodin had come so close that, still standing, with his right arm
+bent behind his head, he rested, as it were, against the wall, whilst,
+hiding his left hand in the pocket of his black trousers, he thus held
+back one of the flaps of his olive great-coat. For some minutes, he
+remained in this meditative attitude.
+
+Rodin, as we have said, came seldom to this lodging; according to the
+rules of his Order, he had till now lived with Father d'Aigrigny,
+whom he was specially charged to watch. No member of the Society,
+particularly in the subaltern position which Rodin had hitherto held,
+could either shut himself in, or possess an article of furniture made
+to lock. By this means nothing interferes with the mutual spy-system,
+incessantly carried on, which forms one of the most powerful resources
+of the Company of Jesus. It was on account of certain combinations,
+purely personal to himself, though connected on some points with the
+interests of the Order, that Rodin, unknown to all, had taken these
+rooms in the Rue Clovis. And it was from the depths of this obscure
+den that the socius corresponded directly with the most eminent and
+influential personages of the sacred college. On one occasion, when
+Rodin wrote to Rome, that Father d'Aigrigny, having received orders to
+quit France without seeing his dying mother, had hesitated to set out,
+the socius had added, in form of postscriptum, at the bottom of the
+letter denouncing to the General of the Order the hesitation of Father
+d'Aigrigny:
+
+"Tell the Prince Cardinal that he may rely upon me, but I hope for his
+active aid in return."
+
+This familiar manner of corresponding with the most powerful dignitary
+of the Order, the almost patronizing tone of the recommendation
+that Rodin addressed to the Prince Cardinal, proved that the socius,
+notwithstanding his apparently subaltern position, was looked upon, at
+that epoch, as a very important personage, by many of the Princes of the
+Church, who wrote to him at Paris under a false name, making use of a
+cipher and other customary precautions. After some moments passed in
+contemplation, before the portrait of Sixtus V., Rodin returned slowly
+to the table, on which lay the letter, which, by a sort of superstitious
+delay, he had deferred opening, notwithstanding his extreme curiosity.
+As it still wanted some minutes of half-past nine, Rodin, in order not
+to lose time, set about making preparations for his frugal breakfast.
+He placed on the table, by the side of an inkstand, furnished with pens,
+the slice of bread and the radish; then seating himself on his stool,
+with the stove, as it were, between his legs, he drew a horn-handled
+knife from his pocket, and cutting alternately a morsel of bread and a
+morsel of radish, with a sharp, well-worn blade, he began his temperate
+repast with a vigorous appetite, keeping his eye fixed on the hand of
+his watch. When it reached the momentous hour, he unsealed the envelope
+with a trembling hand.
+
+It contained two letters. The first appeared to give him little
+satisfaction; for, after some minutes, he shrugged his shoulders, struck
+the table impatiently with the handle of his knife, disdainfully pushed
+aside the letter with the back of his dirty hand, and perused the second
+epistle, holding his bread in one hand, and with the other mechanically
+dipping a slice of radish into the gray salt spilt on a corner of the
+table. Suddenly, Rodin's hand remained motionless. As he progressed
+in his reading, he appeared more and more interested, surprised, and
+struck. Rising abruptly, he ran to the window, as if to assure himself,
+by a second examination of the cipher, that he was not deceived. The
+news announced to him in the letter seemed to be unexpected. No doubt,
+Rodin found that he had deciphered correctly, for, letting fall his
+arms, not in dejection, but with the stupor of a satisfaction as
+unforeseen as extraordinary, he remained for some time with his head
+down, and his eyes fixed--the only mark of joy that he gave being
+manifested by a loud, frequent, and prolonged respiration. Men who are
+as audacious in their ambition, as they are patient and obstinate in
+their mining and countermining, are surprised at their own success, when
+this latter precedes and surpasses their wise and prudent expectations.
+Rodin was now in this case. Thanks to prodigies of craft, address, and
+dissimulation, thanks to mighty promises of corruption, thanks to the
+singular mixture of admiration, fear, and confidence, with which his
+genius inspired many influential persons, Rodin now learned from members
+of the pontifical government, that, in case of a possible and probable
+occurrence, he might, within a given time, aspire, with a good chance of
+success, to a position which has too often excited the fear, the hate,
+or the envy of many sovereigns, and which has in turn, been occupied by
+great, good men, by abominable scoundrels, and by persons risen from
+the lowest grades of society. But for Rodin to attain this end with
+certainty, it was absolutely necessary for him to succeed in that
+project, which he had undertaken to accomplish without violence, and
+only by the play and the rebound of passions skillfully managed. The
+project was: To secure for the Society of Jesus the fortune of the
+Rennepont family.
+
+This possession would thus have a double and immense result; for Rodin,
+acting in accordance with his personal views, intended to make of his
+Order (whose chief was at his discretion) a stepping-stone and a means
+of intimidation. When his first impression of surprise had passed
+away--an impression that was only a sort of modesty of ambition and
+self diffidence, not uncommon with men of really superior powers--Rodin
+looked more coldly and logically on the matter, and almost reproached
+himself for his surprise. But soon after, by a singular contradiction,
+yielding to one of those puerile and absurd ideas, by which men are
+often carried away when they think themselves alone and unobserved,
+Rodin rose abruptly, took the letter which had caused him such glad
+surprise, and went to display it, as it were, before the eyes of the
+young swineherd in the picture: then, shaking his head proudly and
+triumphantly, casting his reptile-glance on the portrait, he muttered
+between his teeth, as he placed his dirty finger on the pontifical
+emblem: "Eh, brother? and I also--perhaps!"
+
+After this ridiculous interpolation, Rodin returned to his seat, and,
+as if the happy news he had just received had increased his appetite, he
+placed the letter before him, to read it once more, whilst he exercised
+his teeth, with a sort of joyous fury, on his hard bread and radish,
+chanting an old Litany.
+
+There was something strange, great, and, above all, frightful, in the
+contrast afforded by this immense ambition, already almost justified
+by events, and contained, as it were, in so miserable an abode. Father
+d'Aigrigny (who, if not a very superior man, had at least some real
+value, was a person of high birth, very haughty, and placed in the best
+society) would never have ventured to aspire to what Rodin thus looked
+to from the first. The only aim of Father d'Aigrigny, and even this
+he thought presumptuous, was to be one day elected General of his
+Order--that Order which embraced the world. The difference of the
+ambitious aptitudes of these two personages is conceivable. When a man
+of eminent abilities, of a healthy and vivacious nature, concentrates
+all the strength of his mind and body upon a single point, remaining,
+like Rodin, obstinately chaste and frugal, and renouncing every
+gratification of the heart and the senses--the man, who revolts against
+the sacred designs of his Creator, does so almost always in favor of
+some monstrous and devouring passion--some infernal divinity, which,
+by a sacrilegious pact, asks of him, in return for the bestowal of
+formidable power, the destruction of every noble sentiment, and of all
+those ineffable attractions and tender instincts with which the Maker,
+in His eternal wisdom and inexhaustible munificence, has so paternally
+endowed His creatures.
+
+During the scene that we have just described, Rodin had not perceived
+that the curtain of a window on the third story of the building opposite
+had been partially drawn aside, and had half-revealed the sprightly face
+of Rose-Pompon, and the Silenus-like countenance of Ninny Moulin.
+It ensued that Rodin, notwithstanding his barricade of cotton
+handkerchiefs, had not been completely sheltered from the indiscreet and
+curious examination of the two dancers of the Storm-blown Tulip.
+
+(22) According to the tradition, it was predicted to the mother of
+Sixtus V., that he would be pope; and, in his youth, he is said to have
+kept swine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.
+
+Though Rodin had experienced much surprise on reading the second letter
+from Rome, he did not choose that his answer should betray any such
+amazement. Having finished his frugal breakfast, he took a sheet of
+paper, and rapidly wrote in cipher the following note, in the short,
+abrupt style that was natural to him when not obliged to restrain
+himself:
+
+"The information does not surprise me. I had foreseen it all. Indecision
+and cowardice always bear such fruit. This is not enough. Heretical
+Russia murders Catholic Poland. Rome blesses the murderers, and curses
+the victims.(23)
+
+"Let it pass.
+
+"In return, Russia guarantees to Rome, by Austria, the bloody
+suppression of the patriots of Romagna.
+
+"That, too, is well.
+
+"The cut-throat band of good Cardinal Albani is not sufficient for the
+massacre of the impious liberals. They are weary of the task.
+
+"Not so well. They must go on."
+
+When Rodin had written these last words, his attention was suddenly
+attracted by the clear and sonorous voice of Rose-Pompon, who, knowing
+her Beranger by heart, had opened Philemon's window, and, seated on the
+sill, sang with much grace and prettiness this verse of the immortal
+song-writer:
+
+   "How wrong you are! Is't you dare say
+   That heaven ever scowls on earth?
+   The earth that laughs up to its blue,
+   The earth that owes it joy and birth?
+   Oh, may the wine from vines it warms,
+   May holy love thence fluttering down,
+   Lend my philosophy their charms,
+   To drive away care's direful frown!
+   So, firm let's stand,
+   Full glass in hand,
+   And all evoke
+   The God of honest folk!"
+
+This song, in its divine gentleness, contrasted so strangely with the
+cold cruelty of the few lines written by Rodin, that he started and bit
+his lips with rage, as he recognized the words of the great poet, truly
+Christian, who had dealt such rude blows to the false Church. Rodin
+waited for some moments with angry impatience, thinking the voice would
+continue; but Rose-Pompon was silent, or only continued to hum, and soon
+changed to another air, that of the Good Pope, which she entoned, but
+without words. Rodin, not venturing to look out of his window to see who
+was this troublesome warbler, shrugged his shoulders, resumed his pen,
+and continued:
+
+"To it again. We must exasperate the independent spirits in all
+countries--excite philosophic rage all over Europe make liberalism foam
+at the mouth--raise all that is wild and noisy against Rome. To
+effect this, we must proclaim in the face of the world these three
+propositions. 1. It is abominable to assert that a man may be saved in
+any faith whatever, provided his morals be pure. 2. It is odious and
+absurd to grant liberty of conscience to the people. 3. The liberty of
+the press cannot be held in too much horror.24
+
+"We must bring the Pap-fed man to declare these propositions in
+every respect orthodox--show him their good effect upon despotic
+governments--upon true Catholics, the muzzlers of the people. He will
+fall into the snare. The propositions once published, the storm will
+burst forth. A general rising against Rome--a wide schism--the sacred
+college divided into three parties. One approves--the other blames--the
+third trembles. The Sick Man, still more frightened than he is now at
+having allowed the destruction of Poland, will shrink from the clamors,
+reproaches, threats, and violent ruptures that he has occasioned.
+
+"That is well--and goes far.
+
+"Then, set the Pope to shaking the conscience of the Sick Man, to
+disturb his mind, and terrify his soul.
+
+"To sum up. Make everything bitter to him--divide his council--isolate
+him--frighten him--redouble the ferocious ardor of good Albini--revive
+the appetite of the Sanfedists(25)--give them a gulf of liberals--let
+there be pillage, rape, massacre, as at Cesena--a downright river
+of Carbonaro blood--the Sick Man will have a surfeit of it. So many
+butcheries in his name--he will shrink, be sure he will shrink--every
+day will have its remorse, every night its terror, every minute
+its anguish; and the abdication he already threatens will come at
+last--perhaps too soon. That is now the only danger; you must provide
+against it.
+
+"In case of an abdication, the grand penitentiary has understood me.
+Instead of confiding to a general the direction of our Order, the best
+militia of the Holy See, I should command it myself. Thenceforward this
+militia would give me no uneasiness. For instance: the Janissaries and
+the Praetorian Guards were always fatal to authority--why?--because
+they were able to organize themselves as defenders of the government,
+independently of the government; hence their power of intimidation.
+
+"Clement XIV. was a fool. To brand and abolish our Company was an absurd
+fault. To protect and make it harmless, by declaring himself the General
+of the Order, is what he should have done. The Company, then at his
+mercy, would have consented to anything. He would have absorbed us, made
+us vassals of the Holy See, and would no longer have had to fear our
+services. Clement XIV. died of the cholic. Let him heed who hears. In a
+similar case, I should not die the same death."
+
+Just then, the clear and liquid voice of Rose-Pompon was again heard.
+Rodin bounded with rage upon his seat; but soon, as he listened to the
+following verse, new to him (for, unlike Philemon's widow, he had not
+his Beranger at his fingers' ends), the Jesuit, accessible to certain
+odd, superstitious notions, was confused and almost frightened at so
+singular a coincidence. It is Beranger's Good Pope who speaks--
+
+   "What are monarchs? sheepish sots!
+   Or they're robbers, puffed with pride,
+   Wearing badges of crime blots,
+   Till their certain graves gape wide.
+   If they'll pour out coin for me,
+   I'll absolve them--skin and bone!
+   If they haggle--they shall see,
+   My nieces dancing on their throne!
+   So laugh away!
+   Leap, my fay!
+   Only watch one hurt the thunder
+   First of all by Zeus under,
+   I'm the Pope, the whole world's wonder!"
+
+Rodin, half-risen from his chair, with outstretched neck and attentive
+eye, was still listening, when Rose-Pompon, flitting like a bee from
+flower to flower of her repertoire, had already begun the delightful air
+of Colibri. Hearing no more, the Jesuit reseated himself, in a sort
+of stupor; but, after some minutes' reflection, his countenance again
+brightened up, and he seemed to see a lucky omen in this singular
+incident. He resumed his pen, and the first words he wrote partook, as
+it were, of this strange confidence in fate.
+
+"I have never had more hope of success than at this moment. Another
+reason to neglect nothing. Every presentiment demands redoubled zeal. A
+new thought occurred to me yesterday.
+
+"We shall act here in concert. I have founded an ultra-Catholic paper
+called Neighborly Love. From its ultramontane, tyrannical, liberticidal
+fury, it will be thought the organ of Rome. I will confirm these
+reports. They will cause new terrors.
+
+"That will be well.
+
+"I shall raise the question of the liberty of instruction. The raw
+liberals will support us. Like fools, they admit us to equal rights;
+when our privileges, our influence of the confessional, our obedience to
+Rome, all place us beyond the circle of equal rights, by the advantages
+which we enjoy. Double fools! they think us disarmed, because they have
+disarmed themselves towards us.
+
+"A burning question--irritating clamors--new cause of disgust for the
+Weak Man. Every little makes a mickle.
+
+"That also is very well.
+
+"To sum up all in two words. The end is abdication--the means, vexation,
+incessant torture. The Rennepont inheritance wilt pay for the election.
+The price agreed, the merchandise will be sold."
+
+Rodin here paused abruptly, thinking he had heard some noise at that
+door of his, which opened on the staircase; therefore he listened with
+suspended breath; but all remaining silent, he thought he must have been
+deceived, and took up his pen:
+
+"I will take care of the Rennepont business--the hinge on which
+will turn our temporal operations. We must begin from the
+foundation--substitute the play of interests, and the springs of
+passion, for the stupid club law of Father d'Aigrigny. He nearly
+compromised everything--and yet he has good parts, knows the world, has
+powers of seduction, quick insight--but plays ever in a single key, and
+is not great enough to make himself little. In his stead, I shall know
+how to make use of him. There is good stuff in the man. I availed myself
+in time of the full powers given by the R. F. G.; I may inform Father
+d'Aigrigny, in case of need, of the secret engagements taken by the
+General towards myself. Until now, I have let him invent for this
+inheritance the destination that you know of. A good thought, but
+unseasonable. The same end, by other means.
+
+"The information was false. There are over two hundred millions. Should
+the eventuality occur, what was doubtful must become certain. An immense
+latitude is left us. The Rennepont business is now doubly mine, and
+within three months, the two hundred millions will be ours, by the
+free will of the heirs themselves. It must be so; for this failing, the
+temporal part would escape me, and my chances be diminished by one half.
+I have asked for full powers; time presses, and I act as if I had
+them. One piece of information is indispensable for the success of my
+projects. I expect it from you, and I must have it; do you understand
+me? The powerful influence of your brother at the Court of Vienna will
+serve you in this. I wish to have the most precise details as to the
+present position of the Duke de Reichstadt--the Napoleon II. of the
+Imperialists. Is it possible, by means of your brother, to open a secret
+correspondence with the prince, unknown to his attendants?
+
+"Look to this promptly. It is urgent. This note will be sent off to day.
+I shall complete it to-morrow. It will reach you, as usual, by the hands
+of the petty shopkeeper."
+
+At the moment when Rodin was sealing this letter within a double
+envelope, he thought that he again heard a noise at the door. He
+listened. After some silence, several knocks were distinctly audible.
+Rodin started. It was the first time any one had knocked at his door,
+since nearly a twelve-month that he occupied this room. Hastily placing
+the letter in his great-coat pocket, the Jesuit opened the old trunk
+under his bed, took from it a packet of papers wrapped in a tattered
+cotton handkerchief, added to them the two letters in cipher he had
+just received, and carefully relocked the trunk. The knocking continued
+without, and seemed to show more and more impatience. Rodin took the
+greengrocer's basket in his hand, tucked his umbrella under his arm, and
+went with some uneasiness to ascertain who was this unexpected visitor.
+He opened the door, and found himself face to face with Rose-Pompon, the
+troublesome singer, and who now, with a light and pretty courtesy, said
+to him in the most guileless manner in the world, "M. Rodin, if you
+please?"
+
+(23) On page 110 of Lamennais' Affaires de Rome, will be seen the
+following admirable scathing of Rome by the most truly evangelical
+spirit of our age: "So long as the issue of the conflict between Poland
+and her oppressors remained in the balances, the papal official organ
+contained not one word to offend the so long victorious nation; but
+hardly had she gone down under the Czar's atrocious vengeance, and the
+long torture of a whole land doomed to rack, and exile, and servitude
+began, than this same journal found no language black enough to stain
+those whom fortune had fled. Yet it is wrong to charge this unworthy
+insult to papal power; it only cringes to the law which Russia lays down
+to it, when it says:
+
+"'If you want to keep your own bones unbroken, bide where you are,
+beside the scaffold, and, as the victims pass, hoot at them!'"
+
+(24) See Pope Gregory XVI.'s Encyclical Letter to the Bishops in France,
+1832.
+
+(25) Hardly had the Sixteenth Gregory ascended the pontifical throne,
+than news came of the rising in Bologna. His first idea was to call
+the Austrians, and incite the Sanfedist volunteer bands of fanatics.
+Cardinal Albini defeated the liberals at Cesena, where his followers
+pillaged churches, sacked the town, and ill-treated women. At Forli,
+cold-blooded murders were committed. In 1832 the Sanfedists (Holy
+Faithites) openly paraded their medals, bearing the heads of the Duke
+of Modena and the Pope; letters issued by the apostolic confederation;
+privileges and indulgences. They took the following oath: "I. A. B.,
+vow to rear the throne and altar over the bones of infamous freedom
+shriekers, and exterminate these latter without pity for children's
+cries and women's tears." The disorders perpetrated by these marauders
+went beyond all bounds; the Romish Court regularized anarchy and
+organized the Sanfedists into volunteer corps, to which fresh privileges
+were granted. (Revue deux Mondes, Nov. 15th, 1844.--"La Revolution en
+Italie.")
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. FRIENDLY SERVICES.
+
+Notwithstanding his surprise and uneasiness, Rodin did not frown. He
+began by locking his door after him, as he noticed the young girl's
+inquisitive glance. Then he said to her good-naturedly, "Who do you
+want, my dear?"
+
+"M. Rodin," repeated Rose-Pompon, stoutly, opening her bright blue eyes
+to their full extent, and looking Rodin full in the face.
+
+"It's not here," said he, moving towards the stairs. "I do not know him.
+Inquire above or below."
+
+"No, you don't! giving yourself airs at your age!" said Rose-Pompon,
+shrugging her shoulders. "As if we did not know that you are M. Rodin."
+
+"Charlemagne," said the socius, bowing; "Charlemagne, to serve you--if I
+am able."
+
+"You are not able," answered Rose-Pompon, majestically; then she added
+with a mocking air, "So, we have our little pussy-cat hiding-places; we
+change our name; we are afraid Mamma Rodin will find us out."
+
+"Come, my dear child," said the socius, with a paternal smile; "you have
+come to the right quarter. I am an old man, but I love youth--happy,
+joyous youth! Amuse yourself, pray, at my expense. Only let me pass, for
+I am in a hurry." And Rodin again advanced towards the stairs.
+
+"M. Rodin," said Rose-Pompon, in a solemn voice, "I have very important
+things to say to you, and advice to ask about a love affair."
+
+"Why, little madcap that you are! have you nobody to tease in your own
+house, that you must come here?"
+
+"I lodge in this house, M. Rodin," answered Rose-Pompon, laying a
+malicious stress on the name of her victim.
+
+"You? Oh, dear, only to think I did not know I had such a pretty
+neighbor."
+
+"Yes, I have lodged here six months, M. Rodin."
+
+"Really! where?"
+
+"On the third story, front, M. Rodin."
+
+"It was you, then, that sang so well just now?"
+
+"Rather."
+
+"You gave me great pleasure, I must say."
+
+"You are very polite, M. Rodin."
+
+"You lodge, I suppose, with your respectable family?"
+
+"I believe you, M. Rodin," said Rose-Pompon, casting down her eyes
+with a timid air. "I lodge with Grandpapa Philemon, and Grandmamma
+Bacchanal--who is a queen and no mistake."
+
+Rodin had hitherto been seriously uneasy, not knowing in what manner
+Rose had discovered his real name. But on hearing her mention the
+Bacchanal queen, with the information that she lodged in the house,
+he found something to compensate for the disagreeable incident of
+Rose-Pompon's appearance. It was, indeed, important to Rodin to find
+out the Bacchanal Queen, the mistress of Sleepinbuff, and the sister of
+Mother Bunch, who had been noted as dangerous since her interview with
+the superior of the convent, and the part she had taken in the projected
+escape of Mdlle. de Cardoville. Moreover, Rodin hoped--thanks to what he
+had just heard--to bring Rose-Pompon to confess to him the name of the
+person from whom she had learned that "Charlemagne" masked "Rodin."
+
+Hardly had the young girl pronounced the name of the Bacchanal queen,
+than Rodin clasped his hands, and appeared as much surprised as
+interested.
+
+"Oh, my dear child," he exclaimed, "I conjure you not to jest on this
+subject. Are you speaking of a young girl who bears that nickname, the
+sister of a deformed needlewoman."
+
+"Yes, sir, the Bacchanal Queen is her nickname," said Rose-Pompon,
+astonished in her turn; "she is really Cephyse Soliveau, and she is my
+friend."
+
+"Oh! she is your friend?" said Rodin, reflecting.
+
+"Yes, sir, my bosom friend."
+
+"So you love her?"
+
+"Like a sister. Poor girl! I do what I can for her, and that's not much.
+But how comes it that a respectable man of your age should know the
+Bacchanal Queen?--Ah! that shows you have a false name!"
+
+"My dear child, I am no longer inclined to laugh," said Rodin, with
+so sorrowful an air, that Rose-Pompon, reproaching herself with her
+pleasantry, said to him: "But how comes it that you know Cephyse?"
+
+"Alas! I do not know her--but a young fellow, that I like excessively--"
+
+"Jacques Rennepont?"
+
+"Otherwise called Sleepinbuff. He is now in prison for debt," sighed
+Rodin. "I saw him yesterday."
+
+"You saw him yesterday?--how strange!" said Rose-Pompon, clapping her
+hands. "Quick! quick!--come over to Philemon's, to give Cephyse news of
+her lover. She is so uneasy about him."
+
+"My dear child, I should like to give her good news of that worthy
+fellow, whom I like in spite of his follies, for who has not been guilty
+of follies?" added Rodin, with indulgent good-nature.
+
+"To be sure," said Rose-Pompon, twisting about as if she still wore the
+costume of a debardeur.
+
+"I will say more," added Rodin: "I love him because of his follies; for,
+talk as we may, my dear child, there is always something good at bottom,
+a good heart, or something, in those who spend generously their money
+for other people."
+
+"Well, come! you are a very good sort of a man," said Rose-Pompon,
+enchanted with Rodin's philosophy. "But why will you not come and see
+Cephyse, and talk to her of Jacques?"
+
+"Of what use would it be to tell her what she knows already--that
+Jacques is in prison? What I should like, would be to get the worthy
+fellow out of his scrape."
+
+"Oh, sir! only do that, only get Jacques out of prison," cried Rose
+Pompon, warmly, "and we will both give you a kiss--me and Cephyse!"
+
+"It would be throwing kisses away, dear little madcap!" said Rodin,
+smiling. "But be satisfied, I want no reward to induce me to do good
+when I can."
+
+"Then you hope to get Jacques out of prison?"
+
+Rodin shook his head, and answered with a grieved and disappointed air.
+"I did hope it. Certainly, I did hope it; but now all is changed."
+
+"How's that?" asked Rose-Pompon, with surprise.
+
+"That foolish joke of calling me M. Rodin may appear very amusing to
+you, my dear child. I understand it, you being only an echo. Some one
+has said to you: 'Go and tell M. Charlemagne that he is one M. Rodin.
+That will be very funny.'"
+
+"Certainly, I should never myself have thought of calling you M. Rodin.
+One does not invent such names," answered Rose-Pompon.
+
+"Well! that person with his foolish jokes, has done, without knowing it,
+a great injury to Jacques Rennepont."
+
+"What! because I called you Rodin instead of Charlemagne?" cried Rose
+Pompon, much regretting the pleasantry which she had carried on at the
+instigation of Ninny Moulin. "But really, sir," she added, "what can
+this joke have to do with the service that you were, about to render
+Jacques?"
+
+"I am not at liberty to tell you, my child. In truth, I am very sorry
+for poor Jacques. Believe me, I am; but do let me pass.
+
+"Listen to me, sir, I beg," said Rose-Pompon; "if I told you the name
+of the person who told me to call you Rodin, would you interest yourself
+again for Jacques?"
+
+"I do not wish to know any one's secrets, my dear child. In all this,
+you have been the echo of persons who are, perhaps, very dangerous;
+and, notwithstanding the interest I feel for Jacques Rennepont, I do not
+wish, you understand, to make myself enemies. Heaven forbid!"
+
+Rose-Pompon did not at all comprehend Rodin's fears, and upon this he
+had counted; for after a second's reflection, the young girl resumed:
+"Well, sir--this is too deep for me; I do not understand it. All I know
+is, that I am truly sorry if I have injured a good young man by a mere
+joke. I will tell you exactly how it happened. My frankness may be of
+some use."
+
+"Frankness will often clear up the most obscure matters," said Rodin,
+sententiously.
+
+"After all," said Rose-Pompon, "it's Ninny's fault. Why does he tell
+me nonsense, that might injure poor Cephyse's lover? You see, sir, it
+happened in this way. Ninny Moulin who is fond of a joke, saw you just
+now in the street. The portress told him that your name was Charlemagne.
+He said to me: 'No; his name is Rodin. We must play him a trick. Go to
+his room, Rose-Pompon, knock at the door, and call him M. Rodin. You
+will see what a rum face he will make.' I promised Ninny Moulin not to
+name him; but I do it, rather than run the risk of injuring Jacques."
+
+At Ninny Moulin's name Rodin had not been able to repress a movement of
+surprise. This pamphleteer, whom he had employed to edit the "Neighborly
+Love," was not personally formidable; but, being fond of talking in
+his drink, he might become troublesome, particularly if Rodin, as was
+probable, had often to visit this house, to execute his project upon
+Sleepinbuff, through the medium of the Bacchanal Queen. The socius
+resolved, therefore, to provide against this inconvenience.
+
+"So, my dear child," said he to Rose-Pompon, "it is a M. Desmoulins that
+persuaded you to play off this silly joke?"
+
+"Not Desmoulins, but Dumoulin," corrected Rose. "He writes in the
+pewholders' papers, and defends the saints for money; for, if Ninny
+Moulin is a saint, his patrons are Saint Drinkard and Saint Flashette,
+as he himself declares."
+
+"This gentleman appears to be very gay."
+
+"Oh! a very good fellow."
+
+"But stop," resumed Rodin, appearing to recollect himself; "ain't he a
+man about thirty-six or forty, fat, with a ruddy complexion?"
+
+"Ruddy as a glass of red wine," said Rose-Pompon, "and with a pimpled
+nose like a mulberry."
+
+"That's the man--M. Dumoulin. Oh! in that case, I am quite satisfied,
+my dear child. The jest no longer makes me uneasy; for M. Dumoulin is a
+very worthy man--only perhaps a little too fond of his joke."
+
+"Then, sir, you will try to be useful to Jacques? The stupid pleasantry
+of Ninny Moulin will not prevent you?"
+
+"I hope not."
+
+"But I must not tell Ninny Moulin that you know it was he who sent me to
+call you M. Rodin--eh, sir?"
+
+"Why not? In every case, my dear child, it is always better to speak
+frankly the truth."
+
+"But, sir, Ninny Moulin so strongly recommended me not to name him to
+you--"
+
+"If you have named him, it is from a very good motive; why not avow
+it? However, my dear child, this concerns you, not me. Do as you think
+best."
+
+"And may I tell Cephyse of your good intentions towards Jacques?"
+
+"The truth, my dear child, always the truth. One need never hesitate to
+say what is."
+
+"Poor Cephyse! how happy she will be!" cried Rose-Pompon, cheerfully;
+"and the news will come just in time."
+
+"Only you must not exaggerate; I do not promise positively to get this
+good fellow out of prison; I say, that I will do what I can. But what I
+promise positively is--for, since the imprisonment of poor Jacques, your
+friend must be very much straitened--"
+
+"Alas, sir!"
+
+"What I promise positively is some little assistance which your friend
+will receive to-day, to enable her to live honestly; and if she behaves
+well--hereafter--why, hereafter, we shall see."
+
+"Oh, sir! you do not know how welcome will be your assistance to poor
+Cephyse! One might fancy you were her actual good angel. Faith! you may
+call yourself Rodin, or Charlemagne; all I know is, that you are a nice,
+sweet--"
+
+"Come, come, do not exaggerate," said Rodin; "say a good sort of old
+fellow; nothing more, my dear child. But see how things fall out,
+sometimes! Who could have told me, when I heard you knock at my
+door--which, I must say, vexed me a great deal--that it was a pretty
+little neighbor of mine, who under the pretext of playing off a joke,
+was to put me in the way of doing a good action? Go and comfort your
+friend; this evening she will receive some assistance; and let us have
+hope and confidence. Thanks be, there are still some good people in the
+world!"
+
+"Oh, sir! you prove it yourself."
+
+"Not at all! The happiness of the old is to see the young happy."
+
+This was said by Rodin with so much apparent kindness, that Rose-Pompon
+felt the tears well up to her eyes, and answered with much emotion:
+"Sir, Cephyse and me are only poor girls; there are many more virtuous
+in the world; but I venture to say, we have good hearts. Now, if ever
+you should be ill, only send for us; there are no Sisters of Charity
+that will take better care of you. It is all that we can offer you,
+without reckoning Philemon, who shall go through fire and water for
+you, I give you my word for it--and Cephyse, I am sure, will answer for
+Jacques also, that he will be yours in life and death."
+
+"You see, my dear child, that I was right in saying--a fitful head and a
+good heart. Adieu, till we meet again."
+
+Thereupon Rodin, taking up the basket, which he had placed on the ground
+by the side of his umbrella, prepared to descend the stairs.
+
+"First of all, you must give me this basket; it will be in your way
+going down," said Rose-Pompon, taking the basket from the hands of
+Rodin, notwithstanding his resistance. Then she added: "Lean upon my
+arm. The stairs are so dark. You might slip."
+
+"I will accept your offer, my dear child, for I am not very courageous."
+Leaning paternally on the right arm of Rose-Pompon, who held the
+basket in her left hand, Rodin descended the stairs, and crossed the
+court-yard.
+
+"Up there, on the third story, do you see that big face close to the
+window-frame?" said Rose-Pompon suddenly to Rodin, stopping in the
+centre of the little court. "That is my Ninny Moulin. Do you know him?
+Is he the same as yours?"
+
+"The same as mine," said Rodin, raising his head, and waving his hand
+very affectionately to Jacques Dumoulin, who, stupefied thereat, retired
+abruptly from the window.
+
+"The poor fellow! I am sure he is afraid of me since his foolish joke,"
+said Rodin, smiling. "He is very wrong."
+
+And he accompanied these last words with a sinister nipping of the lips,
+not perceived by Rose-Pompon.
+
+"And now, my dear child," said he, as they both entered the passage, "I
+no longer need you assistance; return to your friend, and tell her the
+good news you have heard."
+
+"Yes, sir, you are right. I burn with impatience to tell her what a good
+man you are." And Rose-Pompon sprung towards the stairs.
+
+"Stop, stop! how about my basket that the little madcap carries off with
+her?" said Rodin.
+
+"Oh true! I beg your pardon, sir. Poor Cephyse! how pleased she will be.
+Adieu, sir!" And Rose-Pompon's pretty figure disappeared in the darkness
+of the staircase, which she mounted with an alert and impatient step.
+
+Rodin issued from the entry. "Here is your basket, my good lady," said
+he, stopping at the threshold of Mother Arsene's shop. "I give you my
+humble thanks for your kindness."
+
+"For nothing, my dear sir, for nothing. It is all at your service. Well,
+was the radish good?"
+
+"Succulent, my dear madame, and excellent."
+
+"Oh! I am glad of it. Shall we soon see you again?"
+
+"I hope so. But could you tell me where is the nearest post-office?"
+
+"Turn to the left, the third house, at the grocer's."
+
+"A thousand thanks."
+
+"I wager it's a love letter for your sweetheart," said Mother Arsene,
+enlivened probably by Rose Pompon's and Ninny Moulin's proximity.
+
+"Ha! ha! ha! the good lady!" said Rodin, with a titter. Then, suddenly
+resuming his serious aspect, he made a low bow to the greengrocer,
+adding: "Your most obedient humble servant!" and walked out into the
+street.
+
+We now usher the reader into Dr. Baleinier's asylum, in which Mdlle. de
+Cardoville was confined.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. THE ADVICE.
+
+Adrienne de Cardoville had been still more strictly confined in Dr.
+Baleinier's house, since the double nocturnal attempt of Agricola and
+Dagobert, in which the soldier, though severely wounded, had succeeded,
+thanks to the intrepid devotion of his son, seconded by the heroic Spoil
+sport, in gaining the little garden gate of the convent, and escaping by
+way of the boulevard, along with the young smith. Four o'clock had just
+struck. Adrienne, since the previous day, had been removed to a chamber
+on the second story of the asylum. The grated window, with closed
+shutters, only admitted a faint light to this apartment. The young lady,
+since her interview with Mother Bunch, expected to be delivered any day
+by the intervention of her friends. But she felt painful uneasiness on
+the subject of Agricola and Dagobert, being absolutely ignorant of the
+issue of the struggle in which her intended liberators had been engaged
+with the people of the asylum and convent. She had in vain questioned
+her keepers on the subject; they had remained perfectly mute. These new
+incidents had augmented the bitter resentment of Adrienne against the
+Princess de Saint Dizier, Father d'Aigrigny, and their creatures. The
+slight paleness of Mdlle. de Cardoville's charming face, and her fine
+eyes a little drooping, betrayed her recent sufferings; seated before
+a little table, with her forehead resting upon one of her hands, half
+veiled by the long curls of her golden hair, she was turning over the
+leaves of a book. Suddenly, the door opened, and M. Baleinier entered.
+The doctor, a Jesuit, in lay attire, a docile and passive instrument
+of the will of his Order, was only half in the confidence of Father
+d'Aigrigny and the Princess de Saint-Dizier. He was ignorant of the
+object of the imprisonment of Mdlle. de Cardoville; he was ignorant also
+of the sudden change which had taken place in the relative position
+of Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin, after the reading of the testament
+of Marius de Rennepont. The doctor had, only the day before, received
+orders from Father d'Aigrigny (now acting under the directions of Rodin)
+to confine Mdlle. de Cardoville still more strictly, to act towards her
+with redoubled severity, and to endeavor to force her, it will be seen
+by what expedients, to renounce the judicial proceedings, which she
+promised herself to take hereafter against her persecutors. At sight of
+the doctor, Mdlle. de Cardoville could not hide the aversion and disdain
+with which this man inspired her. M. Baleinier, on the contrary, always
+smiling, always courteous, approached Adrienne with perfect ease and
+confidence, stopped a few steps from her, as if to study her features
+more attentively, and then added like a man who is satisfied with the
+observations he had made: "Come! the unfortunate events of the night
+before last have had a less injurious influence than I feared. There is
+some improvement; the complexion is less flushed, the look calmer,
+the eyes still somewhat too bright, but no longer shining with such
+unnatural fire. You are getting on so well! Now the cure must be
+prolonged--for this unfortunate night affair threw you into a state
+of excitement, that was only the more dangerous from your not being
+conscious of it. Happily, with care, your recovery will not, I hope, be
+very much delayed." Accustomed though she was to the audacity of this
+tool of the Congregation, Mdlle. de Cardoville could not forbear saying
+to him, with a smile of bitter disdain: "What impudence, sir, there is
+in your probity! What effrontery in your zeal to earn your hire! Never
+for a moment do you lay aside your mask; craft and falsehood are ever on
+your lips. Really, if this shameful comedy causes you as much fatigue as
+it does me disgust and contempt, they can never pay you enough."
+
+"Alas!" said the doctor, in a sorrowful tone; "always this unfortunate
+delusion, that you are not in want of our care!--that I am playing a
+part, when I talk to you of the sad state in which you were when we were
+obliged to bring you hither by stratagem. Still, with the exception of
+this little sign of rebellious insanity, your condition has marvellously
+improved. You are on the high-road to a complete cure. By-and-by, your
+excellent heart will render me the justice that is due to me; and, one
+day, I shall be judged as I deserve."
+
+"I, believe it, sir; the day approaches, in which you will be judged as
+you deserve," said Adrienne, laying great stress upon the two words.
+
+"Always that other fixed idea," said the doctor with a sort of
+commiseration. "Come, be reasonable. Do not think of this childishness."
+
+"What! renounce my intention to demand at the hands of justice
+reparation for myself, and disgrace for you and your accomplices? Never,
+sir--never!"
+
+"Well!" said the doctor, shrugging his shoulders; "once at liberty,
+thank heaven, you will have many other things to think of, my fair
+enemy."
+
+"You forget piously the evil that you do; but I, sir, have a better
+memory."
+
+"Let us talk seriously. Have you really the intention of applying to the
+courts?" inquired Dr. Baleinier, in a grave tone.
+
+"Yes, sir, and you know that what I intend, I firmly carry out."
+
+"Well! I can only conjure you not to follow out this idea," replied the
+doctor, in a still more solemn tone; "I ask it as a favor, in the name
+of your own interest."
+
+"I think, sir, that you are a little too ready to confound your interest
+with mine."
+
+"Now come," said Dr. Baleinier, with a feigned impatience, as if quite
+certain of convincing Mdlle. de Cardoville on the instant; "would you
+have the melancholy courage to plunge into despair two persons full of
+goodness and generosity?"
+
+"Only two? The jest would be complete, if you were to reckon three:
+you, sir, and my aunt, and Abbe d'Aigrigny; for these are no doubt the
+generous persons in whose name you implore my pity."
+
+"No, madame; I speak neither of myself, nor of your aunt, nor of Abbe
+d'Aigrigny."
+
+"Of whom, then, sir?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville with surprise.
+
+"Of two poor fellows, who, no doubt sent by those whom you call your
+friends, got into the neighboring convent the other night, and thence
+into this garden. The guns which you heard go off were fired at them."
+
+"Alas! I thought so. They refused to tell me if either of them was
+wounded," said Adrienne, with painful emotion.
+
+"One of them received a wound, but not very serious, since he was able
+to fly and escape pursuit."
+
+"Thank God!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, clasping her hands with fervor.
+
+"It is quite natural that you should rejoice at their escape, but
+by what strange contradiction do you now wish to put the officers of
+justice on their track? A singular manner, truly, of rewarding their
+devotion!"
+
+"What do you say, sir?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"For if they should be arrested," resumed Dr. Baleinier, without
+answering her, "as they have been guilty of housebreaking and attempted
+burglary, they would be sent to the galleys."
+
+"Heavens! and for my sake!"
+
+"Yes; it would be for you, and what is worse, by you, that they would be
+condemned."
+
+"By me, sir?"
+
+"Certainly; that is, if you follow up your vengeance against your aunt
+and Abbe d'Aigrigny--I do not speak of myself, for I am quite safe; in
+a word, if you persist in laying your complaint before the magistrates,
+that you have been unjustly confined in this house."
+
+"I do not understand you, sir. Explain yourself," said Adrienne, with
+growing uneasiness.
+
+"Child that you are!" cried the Jesuit of the short robe, with an air of
+conviction; "do you think that if the law once takes cognizance of this
+affair, you can stop short its action where and when you please? When
+you leave this house, you lodge a complaint against me and against
+your family; well, what happens? The law interferes, inquires, calls
+witnesses, enters into the most minute investigations. Then, what
+follows? Why, that this nocturnal escalade, which the superior of the
+convent has some interest in hushing up, for fear of scandal--that this
+nocturnal attempt, I say, which I also would keep quiet, is necessarily
+divulged, and as it involves a serious crime, to which a heavy penalty
+is attached, the law will ferret into it, and find out these unfortunate
+men, and if, as is probable, they are detained in Paris by their duties
+or occupations, or even by a false security, arising from the honorable
+motives which they know to have actuated them, they will be arrested.
+And who will be the cause of this arrest? You, by your deposition
+against us."
+
+"Oh, sir! that would be horrible; but it is impossible."
+
+"It is very possible, on the contrary," returned M. Baleinier: "so that,
+while I and the superior of the convent, who alone are really entitled
+to complain, only wish to keep quiet this unpleasant affair, it is
+you--you, for whom these unfortunate men have risked the galleys--that
+will deliver them up to justice."
+
+Though Mdlle. de Cardoville was not completely duped by the lay Jesuit,
+she guessed that the merciful intentions which he expressed with regard
+to Dagobert and his son, would be absolutely subordinate to the course
+she might take in pressing or abandoning the legitimate vengeance which
+she meant to claim of authority. Indeed, Rodin, whose instructions the
+doctor was following without knowing it, was too cunning to have it said
+to Mdlle. de Cardoville: "If you attempt any proceedings, we denounce
+Dagobert and his son;" but he attained the same end, by inspiring
+Adrienne with fears on the subject of her two liberators, so as to
+prevent her taking any hostile measures. Without knowing the exact law
+on the subject, Mdlle. de Cardoville had too much good sense not to
+understand that Dagobert and Agricola might be very seriously involved
+in consequence of their nocturnal adventure, and might even find
+themselves in a terrible position. And yet, when she thought of all
+she had suffered in that house, and of all the just resentment she
+entertained in the bottom of her heart, Adrienne felt unwilling to
+renounce the stern pleasure of exposing such odious machinations to the
+light of day. Dr. Baleinier watched with sullen attention her whom he
+considered his dupe, for he thought he could divine the cause of the
+silence and hesitation of Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"But, sir," resumed the latter, unable to conceal her anxiety, "if I
+were disposed, for whatever reason, to make no complaint, and to forget
+the wrongs I have suffered, when should I leave this place?"
+
+"I cannot tell; for I do not know when you will be radically cured,"
+said the doctor, benignantly. "You are in a very good way, but--"
+
+"Still this insolent and stupid acting!" broke forth Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, interrupting the doctor with indignation. "I ask, and if it
+must be, I entreat you to tell me how long I am to be shut up in this
+dreadful house, for I shall leave it some day, I suppose?"
+
+"I hope so, certainly," said the Jesuit of the short robe, with unction;
+"but when, I am unable to say. Moreover, I must tell you frankly, that
+every precaution is taken against such attempts as those of the other
+night; and the most vigorous watch will be maintained, to prevent your
+communicating with any one. And all this in your own interest, that your
+poor head may not again be dangerously excited."
+
+"So, sir," said Adrienne, almost terrified, "compared with what awaits
+me, the last few days have been days of liberty."
+
+"Your interest before everything," answered the doctor, in a fervent
+tone.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, feeling the impotence of her indignation and
+despair, heaved a deep sigh, and hid her face in her hands.
+
+At this moment, quick footsteps were heard in the passage, and one of
+the nurses entered, after having knocked at the door.
+
+"Sir," said she to the doctor, with a frightened air, "there are two
+gentlemen below, who wish to see you instantly, and the lady also."
+
+Adrienne raised her head hastily; her eyes were bathed in tears.
+
+"What are the names of these persons?" said M. Baleinier, much
+astonished.
+
+"One of them said to me," answered the nurse: "'Go and inform Dr.
+Baleinier that I am a magistrate, and that I come on a duty regarding
+Mdlle. de Cardoville.'"
+
+"A magistrate!" exclaimed the Jesuit of the short robe, growing purple
+in the face, and unable to hide his surprise and uneasiness.
+
+"Heaven be praised!" cried Adrienne, rising with vivacity, her
+countenance beaming through her tears with hope and joy; "my friends
+have been informed in time, and the hour of justice is arrived!"
+
+"Ask these persons to walk up," said Dr. Baleinier, after a moment's
+reflection. Then, with a still more agitated expression of countenance,
+he approached Adrienne with a harsh, and almost menacing air, which
+contrasted with the habitual placidity of his hypocritical smile, and
+said to her in a low voice: "Take care, madame! do not rejoice too
+soon."
+
+"I no longer fear you," answered Mdlle. de Cardoville, with a bright,
+flashing eye. "M. de Montbron is no doubt returned to Paris, and has
+been informed in time. He accompanies the magistrate, and comes to
+deliver me. I pity you, sir--both you and yours," added Adrienne, with
+an accent of bitter irony.
+
+"Madame," cried M. Baleinier, no longer able to dissemble his growing
+alarm, "I repeat to you, take care! Remember what I have told you. Your
+accusations would necessarily involve the discovery of what took place
+the other night. Beware! the fate of the soldier and his son is in your
+hands. Recollect they are in danger of the convict's chains."
+
+"Oh! I am not your dupe, sir. You are holding out a covert menace.
+Have at least the courage to say to me, that, if I complain to the
+magistrates, you will denounce the soldier and his son."
+
+"I repeat, that, if you make any complaint, those two people are lost,"
+answered the doctor, ambiguously.
+
+Startled by what was really dangerous in the doctor's threats, Adrienne
+asked: "Sir, if this magistrate questions me, do you think I will tell
+him a falsehood?"
+
+"You will answer what is true," said M. Baleinier, hastily, in the hope
+of still attaining his end. "You will answer that you were in so excited
+a state of mind a few days ago, that it was thought advisable, for your
+own sake, to bring you hither, without your knowing it. But you are now
+so much better, that you acknowledge the utility of the measures taken
+with regard to you. I will confirm these words for, after all, it is the
+truth."
+
+"Never!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, with indignation, "never will I be
+the accomplice of so infamous a falsehood; never will I be base enough
+to justify the indignities that I have suffered!"
+
+"Here is the magistrate," said M. Baleinier, as he caught the sound of
+approaching footsteps. "Beware!"
+
+The door opened, and, to the indescribable amazement of the doctor,
+Rodin appeared on the threshold, accompanied by a man dressed in
+black, with a dignified and severe countenance. In the interest of his
+projects, and from motives of craft and prudence that will hereafter be
+known, Rodin had not informed Father d'Aigrigny, and consequently
+the doctor, of the unexpected visit he intended to pay to the asylum,
+accompanied by a magistrate. On the contrary, he had only the day before
+given orders to M. Baleinier to confine Mdlle. de Cardoville still more
+strictly. Therefore, imagine the stupor of the doctor when he saw the
+judicial officer, whose unexpected presence and imposing aspect were
+otherwise sufficiently alarming, enter the room, accompanied by Rodin,
+Abbe d'Aigrigny's humble and obscure secretary. From the door,
+Rodin, who was very shabbily dressed, as usual, pointed out Mdlle.
+de Cardoville to the magistrate, by a gesture at once respectful and
+compassionate. Then, while the latter, who had not been able to repress
+a movement of admiration at sight of the rare beauty of Adrienne, seemed
+to examine her with as much surprise as interest, the Jesuit modestly
+receded several steps.
+
+Dr. Baleinier in his extreme astonishment, hoping to be understood by
+Rodin, made suddenly several private signals, as if to interrogate him
+on the cause of the magistrate's visit. But this was only productive of
+fresh amazement to M. Baleinier; for Rodin did not appear to recognize
+him, or to understand his expressive pantomime, and looked at him with
+affected bewilderment. At length, as the doctor, growing impatient,
+redoubled his mute questionings, Rodin advanced with a stride, stretched
+forward his crooked neck, and said, in a loud voice: "What is your
+pleasure, doctor?"
+
+These words, which completely disconcerted Baleinier, broke the silence
+which had reigned for some seconds, and the magistrate turned round.
+Rodin added, with imperturbable coolness: "Since our arrival, the doctor
+has been making all sorts of mysterious signs to me. I suppose he has
+something private to communicate, but, as I have no secrets, I must beg
+him to speak out loud."
+
+This reply, so embarrassing for M. Baleinier, uttered in a tone of
+aggression, and with an air of icy coldness, plunged the doctor into
+such new and deep amazement, that he remained for some moments without
+answering. No doubt the magistrate was struck with this incident, and
+with the silence which followed it, for he cast a look of great severity
+on the doctor. Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had expected to have seen M. de
+Montbron, was also singularly surprised.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ACCUSER.
+
+Baleinier, disconcerted for a moment by the unexpected presence of a
+magistrate, and by Rodin's inexplicable attitude, soon recovered his
+presence of mind, and addressing his colleague of the longer robe, said
+to him: "If I make signs to you, sir, it was that, while I wished
+to respect the silence which this gentleman"--glancing at the
+magistrate--"has preserved since his entrance, I desired to express my
+surprise at the unexpected honor of this visit."
+
+"It is to the lady that I will explain the reason for my silence, and
+beg her to excuse it," replied the magistrate, as he made a half-bow to
+Adrienne, whom he thus continued to address: "I have just received
+so serious a declaration with regard to you, madame, that I could not
+forbear looking at you for a moment in silence, to see if I could read
+in your countenance or in your attitude, the truth or falsehood of the
+accusation that has been placed in my hands; and I have every reason to
+believe that it is but too well founded."
+
+"May I at length be informed, sir," said Dr. Baleinier, in a polite but
+firm tone, "to whom I have the honor of speaking?"
+
+"Sir, I am juge d'instruction, and I have come to inform myself as to a
+fact which has been pointed out to me--"
+
+"Will you do me the honor to explain yourself, sir?" said the doctor,
+bowing.
+
+"Sir," resumed the magistrate, M. de Gernande, a man of about fifty
+years of age, full of firmness and straightforwardness, and knowing how
+to unite the austere duties of his position with benevolent politeness,
+"you are accused of having committed--a very great error, not to use a
+harsher expression. As for the nature of that error, I prefer believing,
+sir, that you (a first rate man of science) may have been deceived in
+the calculation of a medical case, rather than suspect you of having
+forgotten all that is sacred in the exercise of a profession that is
+almost a priesthood."
+
+"When you specify the facts, sir," answered the Jesuit of the short
+robe, with a degree of haughtiness, "it will be easy for me to prove
+that my reputation as a man of science is no less free from reproach,
+than my conscience as a man of honor."
+
+"Madame," said M. de Gernande, addressing Adrienne, "is it true that you
+were conveyed to this house by stratagem?"
+
+"Sir," cried M. Baleinier, "permit me to observe, that the manner in
+which you open this question is an insult to me."
+
+"Sir, it is to the lady that I have the honor of addressing myself,"
+replied M. de Gernande, sternly; "and I am the sole judge of the
+propriety of my questions."
+
+Adrienne was about to answer affirmatively to the magistrate, when an
+expressive took from Dr. Baleinier reminded her that she would perhaps
+expose Dagobert and his son to cruel dangers. It was no base and vulgar
+feeling of vengeance by which Adrienne was animated, but a legitimate
+indignation, inspired by odious hypocrisy. She would have thought it
+cowardly not to unmask the criminals; but wishing to avoid compromising
+others, she said to the magistrate, with an accent full of mildness and
+dignity: "Permit me, sir, in my turn, rather to ask you a question."
+
+"Speak, madame."
+
+"Will the answer I make be considered a formal accusation?"
+
+"I have come hither, madame, to ascertain the truth, and no
+consideration should induce you to dissemble it."
+
+"So be it, sir," resumed Adrienne; "but suppose, having just causes of
+complaint, I lay them before you, in order to be allowed to leave this
+house, shall I afterwards be at liberty not to press the accusations I
+have made?"
+
+"You may abandon proceedings, madame, but the law will take up your case
+in the name of society, if its rights have been inured in your person."
+
+"Shall I then not be allowed to pardon? Should I not be sufficiently
+avenged by a contemptuous forgetfulness of the wrongs I have suffered?"
+
+"Personally, madame, you may forgive and forget; but I have the honor
+to repeat to you, that society cannot show the same indulgence, if
+it should turn out that you have been the victim of a criminal
+machination--and I have every reason to fear it is so. The manner in
+which you express yourself, the generosity of your sentiments, the
+calmness and dignity of your attitude, convince me that I have been well
+informed."
+
+"I hope, sir," said Dr. Baleinier, recovering his coolness, "that you
+will at least communicate the declaration that has been made to you."
+
+"It has been declared to me, sir," said the magistrate, in a stern
+voice, "that Mdlle. de Cardoville was brought here by stratagem."
+
+"By stratagem?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"It is true. The lady was brought here by stratagem," answered the
+Jesuit of the short robe, after a moment's silence.
+
+"You confess it, then?" said M. de Gernande.
+
+"Certainly I do, sir. I admit that I had recourse to means which we are
+unfortunately too often obliged to employ, when persons who most need
+our assistance are unconscious of their own sad state."
+
+"But, sir," replied the magistrate, "it has also been declared to me,
+that Mdlle. de Cardoville never required such aid."
+
+"That, sir, is a question of medical jurisprudence, which has to be
+examined and discussed," said M. Baleinier, recovering his assurance.
+
+"It will, indeed, sir, be seriously discussed; for you are accused of
+confining Mdlle. De Cardoville, while in the full possession of all her
+faculties."
+
+"And may I ask you for what purpose?" said M. de Baleinier, with a
+slight shrug of the shoulders, and in a tone of irony. "What interest
+had I to commit such a crime, even admitting that my reputation did not
+place me above so odious and absurd a charge?"
+
+"You are said to have acted, sir, in furtherance of a family plot,
+devised against Mdlle. de Cardoville for a pecuniary motive."
+
+"And who has dared, sir, to make so calumnious a charge?" cried Dr.
+Baleinier, with indignant warmth. "Who has had the audacity to accuse
+a respectable, and I dare to say, respected man, of having been the
+accomplice in such infamy?"
+
+"I," said Rodin, coldly.
+
+"You!" cried Dr. Baleinier, falling back two steps, as if thunderstruck.
+
+"Yes, I accuse you," repeated Rodin, in a clear sharp voice.
+
+"Yes, it was this gentleman who came to me this morning, with ample
+proofs, to demand my interference in favor of Mdlle. de Cardoville,"
+said the magistrate, drawing back a little, to give Adrienne the
+opportunity of seeing her defender.
+
+Throughout this scene, Rodin's name had not hitherto been mentioned.
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had often heard speak of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's
+secretary in no very favorable terms; but, never having seen him, she
+did not know that her liberator was this very Jesuit. She therefore
+looked towards him, with a glance in which were mingled curiosity,
+interest, surprise and gratitude. Rodin's cadaverous countenance, his
+repulsive ugliness, his sordid dress, would a few days before have
+occasioned Adrienne a perhaps invincible feeling of disgust. But the
+young lady, remembering how the sempstress, poor, feeble, deformed,
+and dressed almost in rags was endowed notwithstanding her wretched
+exterior, with one of the noblest and most admirable hearts, recalled
+this recollection in favor of the Jesuit. She forgot that he was ugly
+and sordid, only to remember that he was old, that he seemed poor, and
+that he had come to her assistance. Dr. Baleinier, notwithstanding his
+craft, notwithstanding his audacious hypocrisy, in spite even of his
+presence of mind, could not conceal how much he was disturbed by Rodin's
+denunciation. His head became troubled as he remembered how, on the
+first day of Adrienne's confinement in this house, the implacable appeal
+of Rodin, through the hole in the door, had prevented him (Baleinier)
+from yielding to emotions of pity, inspired by the despair of this
+unfortunate young girl, driven almost to doubt of her own reason. And
+yet it was this very Rodin, so cruel, so inexorable, the devoted agent
+of Father d'Aigrigny, who denounced him (Baleinier), and brought a
+magistrate to set Adrienne at liberty--when, only the day before, Father
+d'Aigrigny had ordered an increase of severity towards her!
+
+The lay Jesuit felt persuaded that Rodin was betraying Father d'Aigrigny
+in the most shameful manner, and that Mdlle. de Cardoville's friends had
+bribed and bought over this scoundrelly secretary. Exasperated by what
+he considered a monstrous piece of treachery, the doctor exclaimed, in a
+voice broken with rage: "And it is you, sir, that have the impudence to
+accuse me--you, who only a few days ago--"
+
+Then, reflecting that the retort upon Rodin would be self-accusation,
+he appeared to give way to an excess of emotion, and resumed with
+bitterness: "Ah, sir, you are the last person that I should have thought
+capable of this odious denunciation. It is shameful!"
+
+"And who had a better right than I to denounce this infamy?" answered
+Rodin, in a rude, overbearing tone. "Was I not in a position to
+learn--unfortunately, too late--the nature of the conspiracy of which
+Mdlle. de Cardoville and others have been the victims? Then, what was
+my duty as an honest man? Why, to inform the magistrate, to prove what I
+set forth, and to accompany him hither. That is what I have done."
+
+"So, sir," said the doctor, addressing the magistrate, "it is not only
+myself that this man accuses, but he dares also--"
+
+"I accuse the Abbe d'Aigrigny," resumed Rodin, in a still louder and
+more imperative tone, interrupting the doctor, "I accuse the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier, I accuse you, sir--of having, from a vile motive of self
+interest, confined Mdlle. de Cardoville in this house, and the two
+daughters of Marshal Simon in the neighboring convent. Is that clear?"
+
+"Alas! it is only too true," said Adrienne, hastily. "I have seen those
+poor children all in tears, making signs of distress to me."
+
+The accusation of Rodin, with regard to the orphans, was a new and
+fearful blow for Dr. Baleinier. He felt perfectly convinced that the
+traitor had passed clear over to the enemy's camp. Wishing therefore to
+put an end to this embarrassing scene, he tried to put a good face on
+the matter, in spite of his emotion, and said to the magistrate:
+
+"I might confine myself, sir, to silence--disdaining to answer such
+accusations, till a judicial decision had given them some kind of
+authority. But, strong in a good conscience I address myself to Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, and I beg her to say if this very morning I did not
+inform her, that her health would soon be sufficiently restored to allow
+her to leave this house. I conjure her, in the name of her well-known
+love of truth to state if such was not my language, when I was alone
+with her--"
+
+"Come, sir!" said Rodin, interrupting Baleinier with an insolent air;
+"suppose that, from pure generosity, this dear young lady were to admit
+as much--what will it prove in your favor?--why, nothing at all."
+
+"What, sir," cried the doctor, "do you presume--"
+
+"I presume to unmask you, without asking your leave. What have you just
+told us? Why, that being alone with Mdlle. de Cardoville, you talked to
+her as if she were really mad. How very conclusive!"
+
+"But, sir--" cried the doctor.
+
+"But, sir," resumed Rodin, without allowing him to continue, "it is
+evident that, foreseeing the possibility of what has occurred to-day,
+and, to provide yourself with a hole to creep out at, you have pretended
+to believe your own execrable falsehood, in presence of this poor young
+lady, that you might afterwards call in aid the evidence of your own
+assumed conviction. Come, sir! such stories will not go down with people
+of common sense or common humanity."
+
+"Come now, sir!" exclaimed Baleinier, angrily.
+
+"Well, sir," resumed Rodin, in a still louder voice, which completely
+drowned that of the doctor; "is it true, or is it not, that you have
+recourse to the mean evasion of ascribing this odious imprisonment to a
+scientific error? I affirm that you do so, and that you think yourself
+safe, because you can now say: 'Thanks to my care, the young lady has
+recovered her reason. What more would you have?'"
+
+"Yes, I do say that, sir, and I maintain it."
+
+"You maintain a falsehood; for it is proven that the lady never lost her
+reason for a moment."
+
+"But I, sir, maintain that she did lose it."
+
+"And I, sir, will prove the contrary," said Rodin.
+
+"You? How will you do that?" cried the doctor.
+
+"That I shall take care not to tell you at present, as you may
+well suppose," answered Rodin, with an ironical smile, adding with
+indignation: "But, really, sir, you ought to die for shame, to dare to
+raise such a question in presence of the lady. You should at least have
+spared her this discussion."
+
+"Sir!"
+
+"Oh, fie, sir! I say, fie! It is odious to maintain this argument before
+her--odious if you speak truth, doubly odious if you lie," said Rodin,
+with disgust.
+
+"This violence is inconceivable!" cried the Jesuit of the short robe,
+exasperated; "and I think the magistrate shows great partiality in
+allowing such gross calumnies to be heaped upon me!"
+
+"Sir," answered M. de Gernande, severely, "I am entitled not only to
+hear, but to provoke any contradictory discussion that may enlighten
+me in the execution of my duty; it results from all this, that, even in
+your opinion, sir, Mdlle. de Cardoville's health is sufficiently good to
+allow her to return home immediately."
+
+"At least, I do not see any very serious inconvenience likely to arise
+from it, sir," said the doctor: "only I maintain that the cure is not
+so complete as it might have been, and, on this subject, I decline all
+responsibility for the future."
+
+"You can do so, safely," said Rodin; "it is not likely that the young
+lady will ever again have recourse to your honest assistance."
+
+"It is useless, therefore, to employ my official authority, to demand
+the immediate liberation of Mdlle. de Cardoville," said the magistrate.
+
+"She is free," said Baleinier, "perfectly free."
+
+"As for the question whether you have imprisoned her on the plea of a
+suppositious madness, the law will inquire into it, sir, and you will be
+heard."
+
+"I am quite easy, sir," answered M. Baleinier, trying to look so; "my
+conscience reproaches me with nothing."
+
+"I hope it may turn out well, sir," said M. de Gernande. "However bad
+appearances may be, more especially when persons of your station in
+society are concerned, we should always wish to be convinced of their
+innocence." Then, turning to Adrienne, he added: "I understand, madame,
+how painful this scene must be to all your feelings of delicacy and
+generosity; hereafter, it will depend upon yourself, either to proceed
+for damages against M. Baleinier, or to let the law take its course.
+One word more. The bold and upright man"--here the magistrate pointed
+to Rodin--"who has taken up your cause in so frank and disinterested a
+manner, expressed a belief that you would, perhaps, take charge for the
+present of Marshal Simon's daughters, whose liberation I am about to
+demand from the convent where they also are confined by stratagem."
+
+"The fact is, sir," replied Adrienne, "that, as soon as I learned the
+arrival of Marshal Simon's daughters in Paris, my intention was to offer
+them apartments in my house. These young ladies are my near relations.
+It is at once a duty and a pleasure for me to treat them as sisters. I
+shall, therefore, be doubly grateful to you, sir, if you will trust them
+to my care."
+
+"I think that I cannot serve them better," answered M. de Gernande.
+Then, addressing Baleinier, he added, "Will you consent, sir, to my
+bringing these two ladies hither? I will go and fetch them, while Mdlle.
+de Cardoville prepares for her departure. They will then be able to
+leave this house with their relation."
+
+"I entreat the lady to make use of this house as her own, until she
+leaves it," replied M. Baleinier. "My carriage shall be at her orders to
+take her home."
+
+"Madame," said the magistrate, approaching Adrienne, "without prejudging
+the question, which must soon be decided by, a court of law, I may at
+least regret that I was not called in sooner. Your situation must have
+been a very cruel one."
+
+"There will at least remain to me, sir, from this mournful time,"
+said Adrienne, with graceful dignity, "one precious and touching
+remembrance--that of the interest which you have shown me. I hope that
+you will one day permit me to thank you, at my own home, not for the
+justice you have done me, but for the benevolent and paternal manner in
+which you have done it. And moreover, sir," added Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+with a sweet smile, "I should like to prove to you, that what they call
+my cure is complete."
+
+M. de Gernande bowed respectfully in reply. During the abort dialogue of
+the magistrate with Adrienne, their backs were both turned to Baleinier
+and Rodin. The latter, profiting by this moment's opportunity, hastily
+slipped into the doctor's hand a note just written with a pencil in the
+bottom of his hat. Baleinier looked at Rodin in stupefied amazement. But
+the latter made a peculiar sign, by raising his thumb to his forehead,
+and drawing it twice across his brow. Then he remained impassible. This
+had passed so rapidly, that when M. de Gernande turned round, Rodin was
+at a distance of several steps from Dr. Baleinier, and looking at Mdlle.
+de Cardoville with respectful interest.
+
+"Permit me to accompany you, sir," said the doctor, preceding the
+magistrate, whom Mdlle. de Cardoville saluted with much affability. Then
+both went out, and Rodin remained alone with the young lady.
+
+After conducting M. de Gernande to the outer door of the house, M.
+Baleinier made haste to read the pencil-note written by Rodin; it ran as
+follows: "The magistrate is going to the convent, by way of the street.
+Run round by the garden, and tell the Superior to obey the order I
+have given with regard to the two young girls. It is of the utmost
+importance."
+
+The peculiar sign which Rodin had made, and the tenor of this note,
+proved to Dr. Baleinier, who was passing from surprise to amazement,
+that the secretary, far from betraying the reverend father, was still
+acting for the Greater Glory of the Lord. However, whilst he obeyed the
+orders, M. Baleinier sought in vain to penetrate the motives of Rodin's
+inexplicable conduct, who had himself informed the authorities of an
+affair that was to have been hushed up, and that might have the most
+disastrous consequences for Father d'Aigrigny, Madame de Saint-Dizier,
+and Baleinier himself. But let us return to Rodin, left alone with
+Mdlle, de Cardoville.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. FATHER D'AIGRIGNY'S SECRETARY.
+
+Hardly had the magistrate and Dr. Baleinier disappeared, than Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, whose countenance was beaming with joy, exclaimed, as she
+looked at Rodin with a mixture of respect and gratitude, "At length,
+thanks to you, sir, I am free--free! Oh, I had never before felt
+how much happiness, expansion, delight, there is in that adorable
+word--liberty!"
+
+Her bosom rose and fell, her rosy nostrils dilated, her vermilion lips
+were half open, as if she again inhaled with rapture pure and vivifying
+air.
+
+"I have been only a few days in this horrible place," she resumed, "but
+I have suffered enough from my captivity to make me resolve never to let
+a year pass without restoring to liberty some poor prisoners for debt.
+This vow no doubt appears to belong a little to the Middle Ages,"
+added she, with a smile; "but I would fain borrow from that noble epoch
+something more than its old windows and furniture. So, doubly thanks,
+sir!--for I take you as a partner in that project of deliverance, which
+has just (you see) unfolded itself in the midst of the happiness I owe
+to you, and by which you seem so much affected. Oh! let my joy speak my
+gratitude, and pay you for your generous aid!" exclaimed the young girl
+with enthusiasm.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had truly remarked a complete transfiguration in
+the countenance of Rodin. This man, lately so harsh, severe, inflexible,
+with regard to Dr. Baleinier, appeared now under the influence of the
+mildest and most tender sentiments. His little, half-veiled eyes were
+fixed upon Adrienne with an expression of ineffable interest. Then, as
+if he wished to tear himself from these impressions, he said, speaking
+to himself, "Come, come, no weakness. Time is too precious; my mission
+is not fulfilled. My dear young lady," added he, addressing himself to
+Adrienne, "believe what I say--we will talk hereafter of gratitude--but
+we have now to talk of the present so important for you and your family.
+Do you know what is taking place?"
+
+Adrienne looked at the Jesuit with surprise, and said, "What is taking
+place, sir?"
+
+"Do you know the real motive of your imprisonment in this house? Do you
+know what influenced the Princess de Saint-Dizier and Abbe d'Aigrigny?"
+
+At the sound of those detested names, Mdlle. de Cardoville's face,
+now so full of happiness, became suddenly sad, and she answered with
+bitterness, "It is hatred, sir, that no doubt animated Madame de
+Saint-Dizier against me."
+
+"Yes, hatred; and, moreover, the desire to rob you with impunity of an
+immense fortune."
+
+"Me, sir! how?"
+
+"You must be ignorant, my dear young lady, of the interest you had to be
+in the Rue Saint-Francois on the 13th February, for an inheritance?"
+
+"I was ignorant, sir, of the date and details: but I knew by some family
+papers, and thanks to an extraordinary circumstance, that one of our
+ancestors--"
+
+"Had left an enormous sum to be divided between his descendants; is it
+not so?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But what unfortunately you did not know, my dear young lady, was that
+the heirs were all bound to be present at a certain hour on the 13th
+February. This day and hour once past, the absent would forfeit their
+claim. Do you now understand why you have been imprisoned here, my dear
+young lady?"
+
+"Yes, yes; I understand it," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville; "cupidity was
+added to the hatred which my aunt felt for me. All is explained. Marshal
+Simon's daughters, having the same right as I had have, like me, been
+imprisoned."
+
+"And yet," cried Rodin, "you and they were not the only victims."
+
+"Who, then, are the others, sir?"
+
+"A young East Indian."
+
+"Prince Djalma?" said Adrienne, hastily.
+
+"For the same reason he has been nearly poisoned with a narcotic."
+
+"Great God!" cried the young girl, clasping her hands in horror. "It is
+fearful. That young prince, who was said to have so noble and generous a
+character! But I had sent to Cardoville Castle--"
+
+"A confidential person, to fetch the prince to Paris--I know it, my dear
+young lady; but, by means of a trick, your friend was got out of the
+way, and the young Oriental delivered to his enemies."
+
+"And where is he now?"
+
+"I have only vague information on the subject. I know that he is in
+Paris, and do not despair of finding him. I shall pursue my researches
+with an almost paternal ardor, for we cannot too much love the rare
+qualities of that poor king's son. What a heart, my dear young lady!
+what a heart! Oh, it is a heart of gold, pure and bright as the gold of
+his country!"
+
+"We must find the prince, sir," said Adrienne with emotion; "let me
+entreat you to neglect nothing for that end. He is my relation--alone
+here--without support--without assistance."
+
+"Certainly," replied Rodin, with commiseration. "Poor boy!--for he is
+almost a boy--eighteen or nineteen years of age--thrown into the
+heart of Paris, of this hell--with his fresh, ardent, half-savage
+passions--with his simplicity and confidence--to what perils may he not
+be exposed?"
+
+"Well, we must first find him, sir," said Adrienne, hastily; "and then
+we will save him from these dangers. Before I was confined here, I
+learned his arrival in France, and sent a confidential person to offer
+him the services of an unknown friend. I now see that this mad idea,
+with which I have been so much reproached, was a very sensible one. I am
+more convinced of it than ever. The prince belongs to my family, and
+I owe him a generous hospitality. I had destined for him the lodge I
+occupied at my aunt's."
+
+"And you, my dear young lady?"
+
+"To-day, I shall remove to a house, which I had prepared some time ago,
+with the determination of quitting Madame de Saint-Dizier, and living
+alone as I pleased. Then, sir, as you seem bent upon being the good
+genius of our family, be as generous with regard to Prince Djalma, as
+you have been to me and Marshal Simon's daughters. I entreat you to
+discover the hiding-place of this poor king's son, as you call him; keep
+my secret for me, and conduct him to the house offered by the unknown
+friend. Let him not disquiet himself about anything; all his wants shall
+be provided for; he shall live--like a prince."
+
+"Yes; he will indeed live like a prince, thanks to your royal
+munificence. But never was such kind interest better deserved. It is
+enough to see (as I have seen) his fine, melancholy countenance--"
+
+"You have seen him, then, sir?" said Adrienne, interrupting Rodin.
+
+"Yes, my dear young lady; I was with him for about two hours. It was
+quite enough to judge of him. His charming features are the mirror of
+his soul."
+
+"And where did you see him, sir?"
+
+"At your old Chateau de Cardoville, my dear young lady, near which he
+had been shipwrecked in a storm, and whither I had gone to--" Rodin
+hesitated for a moment, and then, as if yielding to the frankness of
+his disposition, added: "Whither I had gone to commit a bad action--a
+shameful, miserable action, I must confess!"
+
+"You, sir?--at Cardoville House--to commit a bad action?" cried
+Adrienne, much surprised.
+
+"Alas! yes, my dear young lady," answered Rodin with simplicity. "In one
+word, I had orders from Abbe d'Aigrigny, to place your former bailiff in
+the alternative either of losing his situation or lending himself to a
+mean action--something, in fact, that resembled spying and calumny; but
+the honest, worthy man refused."
+
+"Why, who are you, sir?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, more and more
+astonished.
+
+"I am Rodin, lately secretary of the Abbe d'Aigrigny--a person of very
+little importance, as you see."
+
+It is impossible to describe the accent, at once humble and ingenuous,
+of the Jesuit, as he pronounced these words, which he accompanied with
+a respectful bow. On this revelation, Mdlle. de Cardoville drew back
+abruptly. We have said that Adrienne had sometimes heard talk of Rodin,
+the humble secretary of the Abbe d'Aigrigny, as a sort of obedient and
+passive machine. That was not all; the bailiff of Cardoville Manor,
+writing to Adrienne on the subject of Prince Djalma, had complained of
+the perfidious and dishonest propositions of Rodin. She felt, therefore,
+a vague suspicion, when she heard that her liberator was the man who had
+played so odious a part. Yet this unfavorable feeling was balanced by
+the sense of what she owed to Rodin, and by his frank denunciation of
+Abbe d'Aigrigny before the magistrate. And then the Jesuit, by his own
+confession, had anticipated, as it were, the reproaches that might have
+been addressed to him. Still, it was with a kind of cold reserve that
+Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed this dialogue, which she had commenced with
+as much frankness as warmth and sympathy.
+
+Rodin perceived the impression he had made. He expected it. He was not
+the least disconcerted when Mdlle. de Cardoville said to him, as she
+fixed upon him a piercing glance, "Ah! you are M. Rodin--secretary to
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny?"
+
+"Say ex-secretary, if you please, my dear young lady," answered the
+Jesuit; "for you see clearly that I can never again enter the house of
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny. I have made of him an implacable enemy, and I am
+now without employment--but no matter--nay, so much the better--since,
+at this price, the wicked are unmasked, and honest people rescued."
+
+These words, spoken with much simplicity, and dignity, revived a feeling
+of pity in Adrienne's heart. She thought within herself that, after all,
+the poor old man spoke the truth. Abbe d'Aigrigny's hate, after this
+exposure, would be inexorable, and Rodin had braved it for the sake of a
+generous action.
+
+Still Mdlle. de Cardoville answered coldly, "Since you knew, sir, that
+the propositions you were charged to make to the bailiff of Cardoville
+were shameful and perfidious, how could you undertake the mission?"
+
+"How?" replied Rodin, with a sort of painful impatience; "why, because
+I was completely under Abbe d'Aigrigny's charm, one of the most
+prodigiously clever men I have ever known, and, as I only discovered the
+day before yesterday, one of the most prodigiously dangerous men there
+is in the world. He had conquered my scruples, by persuading me that
+the End justifies the Means. I must confess that the end he seemed to
+propose to himself was great and beautiful; but the day before yesterday
+I was cruelly undeceived. I was awakened, as it were, by a thunder-peal.
+Oh, my dear young lady!" added Rodin, with a sort of embarrassment
+and confusion, "let us talk no more of my fatal journey to Cardoville.
+Though I was only an ignorant and blind instrument, I feel as ashamed
+and grieved at it as if I had acted for myself. It weighs upon me, it
+oppresses me. I entreat you, let us speak rather of yourself, and of
+what interests you--for the soul expands with generous thoughts, even as
+the breast is dilated in pure and healthful air."
+
+Rodin had confessed his fault so spontaneously, he explained it so
+naturally, he appeared to regret it so sincerely, that Adrienne,
+whose suspicions had no other grounds, felt her distrust a good deal
+diminished.
+
+"So," she resumed, still looking attentively at Rodin, "it was at
+Cardoville that you saw Prince Djalma?"
+
+"Yes, madame; and my affection for him dates from that interview.
+Therefore I will accomplish my task. Be satisfied, my dear young lady;
+like you, like Marshal Simon's daughters, the prince shall avoid being
+the victim of this detestable plot, which unhappily does not stop
+there."
+
+"And who besides, then, is threatened?"
+
+"M. Hardy, a man full of honor and probity, who is also your relation,
+and interested in this inheritance, but kept away from Paris by infamous
+treachery. And another heir, an unfortunate artisan, who falling into a
+trap cleverly baited, has been thrown into a prison for debt."
+
+"But, sir," said Adrienne, suddenly, "for whose advantage was this
+abominable plot, which really alarms me, first devised?"
+
+"For the advantage of Abbe d'Aigrigny," answered Rodin.
+
+"How, and by what right! Was he also an heir?"
+
+"It would take too long to explain it to you, my dear young lady. You
+will know all one day. Only be convinced that your family has no more
+bitter enemy that Abbe d'Aigrigny."
+
+"Sir," said Adrienne, giving way to one last suspicion, "I will speak
+frankly to you. How can I have deserved the interest that you seem to
+take in me, and that you even extend to all the members of my family?"
+
+"My dear young lady," answered Rodin, with a smile, "were I to tell you
+the cause, you would only laugh at, or misapprehend me."
+
+"Speak, I beg of you, sir. Do not mistrust me or yourself."
+
+"Well, then, I became interested in you--devoted to you--because your
+heart is generous, your mind lofty, your character independent and
+proud. Once attached to you, those of your race, who are indeed
+themselves worthy of interest, were no longer indifferent to me. To
+serve them was to serve you also."
+
+"But, sir--admitting that you suppose me worthy of the too flattering
+praises you bestow upon me--how could you judge of my heart, my mind, my
+character?"
+
+"I will tell you, my dear young lady; but first I must make another
+confession, that fills me with shame. If you were not even so
+wonderfully endowed, what you have suffered in this house should suffice
+to command the interest of every honest man--don't you think so?"
+
+"I do think it should, sir."
+
+"I might thus explain the interest I feel in you. But no--I confess
+it--that would not have sufficed with me. Had you been only Mdlle. de
+Cardoville--a rich, noble, beautiful young lady--I should doubtless have
+pitied your misfortune; but I should have said to myself, 'This poor
+young lady is certainly much to be pitied; but what can I, poor man, do
+in it? My only resource is my post of secretary to the Abbe d'Aigrigny,
+and he would be the first that must be attacked. He is all-powerful, and
+I am nothing. To engage in a struggle with him would be to ruin myself,
+without the hope of saving this unfortunate person.' But when I
+learnt what you were, my dear young lady, I revolted, in spite of my
+inferiority. 'No,' I said, 'a thousand times, no! So fine an intellect,
+so great a heart, shall not be the victims of an abominable plot. I may
+perish in the struggle, but I will at least make the attempt.'"
+
+No words can paint the mixture of delicacy, energy, and sensibility with
+which Rodin uttered these sentiments. As it often happens with people
+singularly repulsive and ill-favored, if they can once bring you to
+forget their ugliness, their very deformity becomes a source of interest
+and commiseration, and you say to yourself, "What a pity that such a
+mind, such a soul, should inhabit so poor a body!"--and you are touched
+and softened by the contrast.
+
+It was thus that Mdlle. de Cardoville began to look upon Rodin. He had
+shown himself as simple and affectionate towards her as he had been
+brutal and insolent to Dr. Baleinier. One thing only excited the lively
+curiosity of Mdlle. de Cardoville--she wished to know how Rodin had
+conceived the devotion and admiration which she seemed to inspire.
+
+"Forgive my indiscreet and obstinate curiosity, sir, but I wish to
+know--"
+
+"How you were morally revealed to me--is it not so? Oh, my dear young
+lady! nothing is more simple. I will explain it to you in two words.
+The Abbe d'Aigrigny saw in me nothing but a writing-machine, an obtuse,
+mute, blind instrument--"
+
+"I thought M. d'Aigrigny had more penetration."
+
+"And you are right, my dear young lady; he is a man of unparalleled
+sagacity; but I deceived him by affecting more than simplicity. Do not,
+therefore, think me false. No; I am proud in my manner--and my pride
+consists in never appearing above my position, however subaltern it may
+be! Do you know why? It is that, however haughty may be my superiors, I
+can say to myself, 'They do not know my value. It is the inferiority of
+my condition, not me, that they humiliate.' By this I gain doubly--my
+self-love is spared, and I hate no one."
+
+"Yes, I understand that sort of pride," said Adrienne, more and more
+struck with Rodin's original turn of mind.
+
+"But let us return to what concerns you, my dear young lady. On the eve
+of the 13th of February, the Abbe d'Aigrigny delivered to me a paper
+in shorthand, and said to me, 'Transcribe this examination; you may
+add that it is to support the decision of a family council, which has
+declared, in accordance with the report of Dr. Baleinier, the state of
+mind of Mdlle. de Cardoville to be sufficiently alarming to render it
+necessary to confine her in a lunatic asylum.'"
+
+"Yes," said Adrienne, with bitterness; "it related to a long interview,
+which I had with the Princess de Saint-Dizier, my aunt, and which was
+taken down without my knowledge."
+
+"Behold me, then, poring over my shorthand report, and beginning to
+transcribe it. At the end of the first ten lines, I was struck with
+stupor. I knew not if I were awake or dreaming. 'What! mad?' They must
+be themselves insane who dare assert so monstrous a proposition!--More
+and more interested, I continued my reading--I finished it--Oh! then,
+what shall I say? What I felt, my dear young lady, it is impossible to
+express. It was sympathy, delight, enthusiasm!"
+
+"Sir," said Adrienne.
+
+"Yes, my dear young lady, enthusiasm! Let not the words shock your
+modesty. Know that these ideas, so new, so independent, so courageous
+which you expressed to your aunt with so much brilliancy, are, without
+your being aware of it, common to you and another person, for whom you
+will one day feel the most tender and religious respect."
+
+"Of whom do you speak, sir?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, more and more
+interested.
+
+After a moment's apparent hesitation, Rodin resumed, "No, no--it is
+useless now to inform you of it. All I can tell you, my dear young lady,
+is that, when I had finished my reading, I ran to Abbe d'Aigrigny's, to
+convince him of the error into which he had fallen with regard to you.
+It was impossible then to find him; but yesterday morning I told him
+plainly what I thought. He only appeared surprised to find that I could
+think at all. He received my communications with contemptuous silence.
+I thought him deceived; I continued my remonstrances, but quite in vain.
+He ordered me to follow him to the house, where the testament of your
+ancestor was to be opened. I was so blind with regard to the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny, that it required the successive arrivals of the soldier,
+of his son, and of Marshal Simon's father, to open my eyes thoroughly.
+Their indignation unveiled to me the extent of a conspiracy, plotted
+long ago, and carried on with terrible ability. Then, I understood why
+you were confined here as a lunatic; why the daughters of Marshal Simon
+were imprisoned in a convent. Then a thousand recollections returned to
+my mind; fragments of letters and statements, which had been given me
+to copy or decipher, and of which I had never been able to find the
+explanation, put me on the track of this odious machination. To express
+then and there the sudden horror I felt at these crimes, would have been
+to ruin all. I did not make this mistake. I opposed cunning to cunning;
+I appeared even more eager than Abbe d'Aigrigny. Had this immense
+inheritance been destined for me alone, I could not have shown myself
+more grasping and merciless. Thanks to this stratagem, Abbe d'Aigrigny
+had no suspicion. A providential accident having rescued the inheritance
+from his hands, he left the house in a state of profound consternation.
+For my part, I felt indescribable joy; for I had now the means of saving
+and avenging you, my dear young lady. As usual, I went yesterday evening
+to my place of business. During the absence of the abbe, it was easy for
+me to peruse the correspondence relative to the inheritance. In this way
+I was able to unite all the threads of this immense plot. Oh! then,
+my dear young lady, I remained, struck with horror, in presence of the
+discoveries that I made, and that I never should have made under any
+other circumstances."
+
+"What discoveries, sir?"
+
+"There are some secrets which are terrible to those who possess them. Do
+not ask me to explain, my dear young lady; but, in this examination, the
+league formed against you and your relations, from motives of insatiable
+cupidity, appeared to me in all its dark audacity. Thereupon, the lively
+and deep interest which I already felt for you, my dear young lady, was
+augmented greatly, and extended itself to the other innocent victims of
+this infernal conspiracy. In spite of my weakness, I determined to risk
+all, to unmask the Abbe d'Aigrigny. I collected the necessary proofs,
+to give my declaration before the magistrate the needful authority;
+and, this morning, I left the abbe's house without revealing to him my
+projects. He might have employed some violent method to detain me; yet
+it would have been cowardly to attack him without warning. Once out of
+his house, I wrote to him, that I had in my hands proof enough of his
+crimes, to attack him openly in the face of day. I would accuse, and he
+must defend himself. I went directly to a magistrate, and you know the
+rest."
+
+At this juncture, the door opened, and one of the nurses appeared, and
+said to Rodin: "Sir, the messenger that you and the magistrate sent to
+the Rue Brise-Miche has just come back."
+
+"Has he left the letter?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and it was taken upstairs directly."
+
+"Very well. Leave us!" The nurse went out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. SYMPATHY.
+
+If it had been possible for Mdlle. de Cardoville to harbor any suspicion
+of the sincerity of Rodin's devotion, it must have given way before this
+reasoning, unfortunately so simple and undeniable. How could she suppose
+the faintest complicity between the Abbe d'Aigrigny and his secretary,
+when it was the latter who completely unveiled the machinations of his
+master, and exposed them to the tribunals? when in this, Rodin went
+even further than Mdlle. de Cardoville would herself have gone? Of what
+secret design could she suspect the Jesuit? At worst, of a desire to
+earn by his services the profitable patronage of the young lady.
+
+And then, had he not just now protested against this supposition, by
+declaring his devotion, not to Mdlle. de Cardoville--not to the fair,
+rich, noble lady--but to the high-souled and generous girl? Finally,
+as Rodin had said himself, could any but a miserable wretch fail to be
+interested in Adrienne's fate? A strange mixture of curiosity, surprise,
+and interest, was joined with Mdlle. de Cardoville's feelings of
+gratitude towards Rodin. Yet, as she recognized the superior mind under
+that humble exterior, she was suddenly struck with a grave suspicion.
+"Sir," said she to Rodin, "I always confess to the persons I esteem the
+doubts they may have inspired, so that they may justify themselves, and
+excuse me, if I am wrong."
+
+Rodin looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with surprise, as if mentally
+calculating the suspicions than she might entertain, and replied,
+after a moment's silence: "You are perhaps thinking of my journey to
+Cardoville, of my base proposals to your good and worthy bailiff? Oh! if
+you--"
+
+"No, no, sir," said Adrienne, interrupting him; "you made that
+confession spontaneously, and I quite understand, that, blinded with
+regard to M. d'Aigrigny, you passively executed instructions repugnant
+to your delicacy. But how comes it, that, with your incontestable
+merits, you have so long; occupied so mean a position in his service?"
+
+"It is true," said Rodin, with a smile; "that must impress you
+unfavorably, my dear young lady; for a man of any capacity, who remains
+long in an inferior condition, has evidently some radical vice, some bad
+or base passion--"
+
+"It is generally true, sir."
+
+"And personally true--with regard to myself."
+
+"What, sir! do you make this avowal?"
+
+"Alas! I confess that I have a bad passion, to which, for forty years, I
+have sacrificed all chances of attaining to a better position."
+
+"And this passion, sir?"
+
+"Since I must make the unpleasant avowal, this passion is
+indolence--yes, indolence--the horror of all activity of mind, of all
+moral responsibility, of taking the lead in anything. With the twelve
+hundred francs that Abbe d'Aigrigny gave me, I was the happiest man in
+the world; I trusted to the nobleness of his views; his thoughts became
+mine, his wishes mine. My work once finished, I returned to my poor
+little chamber, I lighted my fire, I dined on vegetables--then, taking
+up some book of philosophy, little known, and dreaming over it, I gave
+free course to my imagination, which, restrained all the day long,
+carried me through numberless theories to a delicious Utopia. Then, from
+the eminences of my intelligence, lifted up Lord knows whither, by the
+audacity of my thoughts, I seemed to look down upon my master, and upon
+the great men of the earth. This fever lasted for three or four hours,
+after which I had a good sleep; and, the next morning, I went lightly to
+my work, secure of my daily bread, without cares for the future, living
+content with little, waiting with impatience for the delights of my
+solitary evening, and saying to myself as I went on writing like a
+stupid machine: 'And yet--and yet--if I chose!'--"
+
+"Doubtless, you could, like others, surer than others, have reached a
+higher position," said Adrienne, greatly struck with Rodin's practical
+philosophy.
+
+"Yes, I think I could have done so; but for what purpose?--You see, my
+dear young lady, what often renders people of some merit puzzles to the
+vulgar, is that they are frequently content to say: 'If I chose!'"
+
+"But, sir, without attaching much importance to the luxuries of
+life, there is a certain degree of comfort, which age renders almost
+indispensable, and which you seem to have utterly renounced."
+
+"Undeceive yourself, if you please, my dear young lady," said Rodin,
+with a playful smile. "I am a true Sybarite; I require absolutely warm
+clothes, a good stove, a soft mattress, a good piece of bread, a fresh
+radish, flavored with good cheap salt, and some good, clear water; and,
+notwithstanding this complication of wants, my twelve hundred francs
+have always more than sufficed, for I have been able to make some little
+savings."
+
+"But now that you are without employment, how will you manage to live,
+sir?" said Adrienne, more and more interested by the singularities of
+this man, and wishing to put his disinterestedness to the proof.
+
+"I have laid by a little, which will serve me till I have unravelled
+the last thread of Father d'Aigrigny's dark designs. I owe myself this
+reparation, for having been his dupe; three or four days, I hope, will
+complete the work. After that, I have the certainty of meeting with a
+situation, in my native province, under a collector of taxes: some
+time ago, the offer was made me by a friend; but then I would not leave
+Father d'Aigrigny, notwithstanding the advantages proposed. Fancy, my
+dear young lady--eight hundred francs, with board and lodging! As I am
+a little of the roughest, I should have preferred lodging apart; but, as
+they give me so much, I must submit to this little inconvenience."
+
+Nothing could exceed Rodin's ingenuity, in making these little household
+confidences (so abominably false) to Mdlle. de Cardoville, who felt her
+last suspicions give way.
+
+"What, sir?" said she to the Jesuit, with interest; "in three or four
+days, you mean to quit Paris?"
+
+"I hope to do so, my dear young lady; and that," added he, in a
+mysterious tone, "and that for many reasons. But what would be very
+precious to me," he resumed, in a serious voice, as he looked at
+Adrienne with emotion, "would be to carry with me the conviction,
+that you did me the justice to believe, that, on merely reading your
+interview with the Princess de Saint-Dizier, I recognized at once
+qualities quite unexampled in our day, in a young person of your age and
+condition."
+
+"Ah, sir!" said Adrienne, with a smile, "do not think yourself
+obliged to return so soon the sincere praises that I bestowed on your
+superiority of mind. I should be better pleased with ingratitude."
+
+"Oh, no! I do not flatter you, my dear young lady. Why should I? We
+may probably never meet again. I do not flatter you; I understand
+you--that's all--and what will seem strange to you, is, that your
+appearance complete, the idea which I had already formed of you, my dear
+young lady, in reading your interview with your aunt: and some parts of
+your character, hitherto obscure to me, are now fully displayed."
+
+"Really, sir, you astonish me more and more."
+
+"I can't help it! I merely describe my impressions. I can now explain
+perfectly, for example, your passionate love of the beautiful, your
+eager worship of the refinements of the senses, your ardent aspirations
+for a better state of things, your courageous contempt of many degrading
+and servile customs, to which woman is condemned; yes, now I
+understand the noble pride with which you contemplate the mob of vain,
+self-sufficient, ridiculous men, who look upon woman as a creature
+destined for their service, according to the laws made after their own
+not very handsome image. In the eyes of these hedge-tyrants, woman, a
+kind of inferior being to whom a council of cardinals deigned to grant a
+soul by a majority of two voices, ought to think herself supremely happy
+in being the servant of these petty pachas, old at thirty, worn-out,
+used up, weary with excesses, wishing only for repose, and seeking, as
+they say, to make an end of it, which they set about by marrying some
+poor girl, who is on her side desirous to make a beginning."
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville would certainly have smiled at these satirical
+remarks, if she had not been greatly struck by hearing Rodin express in
+such appropriate terms her own ideas, though it was the first time in
+her life that she saw this dangerous man. Adrienne forgot, or
+rather, she was not aware, that she had to deal with a Jesuit of rare
+intelligence, uniting the information and the mysterious resources of
+the police-spy with the profound sagacity of the confessor; one of those
+diabolic priests, who, by the help of a few hints, avowals, letters,
+reconstruct a character, as Cuvier could reconstruct a body from
+zoological fragments. Far from interrupting Rodin, Adrienne listened
+to him with growing curiosity. Sure of the effect he produced, he
+continued, in a tone of indignation: "And your aunt and the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny treated you as mad, because you revolted against the yoke of
+such tyrants! because, hating the shameful vices of slavery, you chose
+to be independent with the suitable qualities of independence, free with
+the proud virtues of liberty!"
+
+"But, sir," said Adrienne, more and more surprised, "how can my thoughts
+be so familiar to you?"
+
+"First, I know you perfectly, thanks to your interview with the Princess
+de Saint-Dizier: and next, if it should happen that we both pursue the
+same end, though by different means," resumed Rodin, artfully, as he
+looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with an air of intelligence, "why should
+not our convictions be the same?"
+
+"I do not understand you, sir. Of what end do you speak?"
+
+"The end pursued incessantly by all lofty, generous, independent
+spirits--some acting, like you, my dear young lady, from passion, from
+instinct, without perhaps explaining to themselves the high mission they
+are called on to ful, fil. Thus, for example, when you take pleasure
+in the most refined delights, when you surround yourself with all that
+charms the senses, do you think that you only yield to the attractions
+of the beautiful, to the desire of exquisite enjoyments? No! ah, no! for
+then you would be incomplete, odiously selfish, a dry egotist, with a
+fine taste--nothing more--and at your age, it would be hideous, my dear
+young lady, it would be hideous!"
+
+"And do you really think thus severely of me?" said Adrienne, with
+uneasiness, so much influence had this man irresistibly attained over
+her.
+
+"Certainly, I should think thus of you, if you loved luxury for luxury's
+sake; but, no--quite another sentiment animates you," resumed the
+Jesuit. "Let us reason a little. Feeling a passionate desire for all
+these enjoyments, you know their value and their need more than any
+one--is it not so?"
+
+"It is so," replied Adrienne, deeply interested.
+
+"Your gratitude and favor are then necessarily acquired by those who,
+poor, laborious, and unknown, have procured for you these marvels of
+luxury, which you could not do without?"
+
+"This feeling of gratitude is so strong in me, sir," replied Adrienne,
+more and more pleased to find herself so well understood, "that I once
+had inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work, instead of the name
+of the seller, that of the poor unknown artist who designed it, and who
+has since risen to his true place."
+
+"There you see, I was not deceived," went on Rodin; "the taste for
+enjoyment renders you grateful to those who procure it for you; and
+that is not all; here am I, an example, neither better nor worse than my
+neighbors, but accustomed to privations, which cause me no suffering--so
+that the privations of others necessarily touch me less nearly than they
+do you, my dear young lady; for your habits of comfort must needs render
+you more compassionate towards misfortune. You would yourself suffer too
+much from poverty, not to pity and succor those who are its victims."
+
+"Really, sir," said Adrienne, who began to feel herself under the fatal
+charm of Rodin, "the more I listen to you, the more I am convinced that
+you would defend a thousand times better than I could those ideas for
+which I was so harshly reproached by Madame de Saint-Dizier and
+Abbe d'Aigrigny. Oh! speak, speak, sir! I cannot tell you with what
+happiness, with what pride I listen."
+
+Attentive and moved, her eyes fixed on the Jesuit with as much interest
+as sympathy and curiosity, Adrienne, by a graceful toss of the head that
+was habitual to her, threw hack her long, golden curls, the better to
+contemplate Rodin, who thus resumed: "You are astonished, my dear young
+lady, that you were not understood by your aunt or by Abbe d'Aigrigny!
+What point of contact had you with these hypocritical, jealous, crafty
+minds, such as I can judge them to be now? Do you wish a new proof of
+their hateful blindness? Among what they called your monstrous follies,
+which was the worst, the most damnable? Why, your resolution to live
+alone and in your own way, to dispose freely of the present and the
+future. They declared this to be odious, detestable, immoral. And
+yet--was this resolution dictated by a mad love of liberty? no!--by
+a disordered aversion to all restraint? no!--by the desire of
+singularity?--no!--for then I, too, should have blamed you severely."
+
+"Other reasons have indeed guided me, sir, I assure you," said Adrienne
+eagerly, for she had become very eager for the esteem with which her
+character might inspire Rodin.
+
+"Oh! I know it well; your motives could only be excellent ones," replied
+the Jesuit. "Why then did you take this resolution, so much called in
+question? Was it to brave established etiquette? no! for you respected
+them until the hate of Mme. de Saint-Dizier forced you to withdraw
+yourself from her unbearable guardianship. Was it to live alone, to
+escape the eyes of the world? no! you would be a hundred times more open
+to observation in this than any other condition. Was it to make a bad
+use of your liberty? no, ah, no! those who design evil seek for darkness
+and solitude; while you place yourself right before the jealous
+anal envious eyes of the vulgar crowd. Why then do you take this
+determination, so courageous and rare, unexampled in a young person of
+your age? Shall I tell you, my dear young lady? It is, that you wish to
+prove, by your example, that a woman of pure heart and honest mind, with
+a firm character and independence of soul, may nobly and proudly throw
+off the humiliating guardianship that custom has imposed upon her. Yes,
+instead of accepting the fate of a revolted slave, a life only destined
+to hypocrisy or vice, you wish to live freely in presence of all the
+world, independent, honorable, and respected. You wish to have, like
+man, the exercise of your own free will, the entire responsibility
+of all your actions, so as to establish the fact, that a woman left
+completely to herself, may equal man in reason, wisdom, uprightness, and
+surpass him indelicacy and dignity. That is your design, my dear young
+lady. It is noble and great. Will your example be imitated? I hope it
+may; but whether it be so or not, your generous attempt, believe me,
+will place you in a high and worthy position."
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville's eyes shone with a proud and gentle brightness,
+her cheeks were slightly colored, her bosom heaved, she raised her
+charming head with a movement of involuntary pride; at length completely
+under the charm of that diabolical man she exclaimed: "But, sir, who are
+you that can thus know and analyze my most secret thoughts, and read
+my soul more clearly than myself, so as to give new life and action to
+those ideas of independence which have long stirred within me? Who are
+you, that can thus elevate me in my own eyes, for now I am conscious of
+accomplishing a mission, honorable to myself, and perhaps useful to my
+sisters immersed in slavery? Once again, sir, who are you?"
+
+"Who am I, madame?" answered Rodin, with a smile of the greatest good
+nature; "I have already told you that I am a poor old man, who for the
+last forty years, having served in the day time as a writing machine to
+record the ideas of others, went home every evening to work out ideas of
+his own--a good kind of man who, from his garret, watches and even takes
+some little share in the movement of generous spirits, advancing towards
+an end that is nearer than is commonly thought. And thus, my dear young
+lady, as I told you just now, you and I are both tending towards the
+same objects, though you may do the same without reflection, and merely
+in obedience to your rare and divine instincts. So continue so to live,
+fair, free, and happy!--it is your mission--more providential than you
+may think it. Yes; continue to surround yourself with all the marvels of
+luxury and art; refine your senses, purify your tastes, by the exquisite
+choice of your enjoyments; by genius, grace, and purity raise yourself
+above the stupid and ill-favored mob of men, that will instantly
+surround you, when they behold you alone and free; they will consider
+you an easy prey, destined to please their cupidity, their egotism,
+their folly.
+
+"Laugh at them, and mock these idiotic and sordid pretensions. Be
+the queen of your own world, and make yourself respected as a queen.
+Love--shine--enjoy--it is your part upon earth. All the flowers, with
+which you are whelmed in profusion, will one day bear fruit. You think
+that you have lived only for pleasure; in reality, you will have lived
+for the noblest aims that could tempt a great and lofty soul. And
+so--some years hence--we may meet again, perhaps; you, fairer and more
+followed than ever; I, older and more obscure. But, no matter--a secret
+voice, I am sure, says to you at this moment, that between us two,
+however different, there exists an invisible bond, a mysterious
+communion, which nothing hereafter will ever be able to destroy!"
+
+He uttered these final words in a tone of such profound emotion, that
+Adrienne started. Rodin had approached without her perceiving it, and
+without, as it were, walking at all, for he dragged his steps along the
+floor, with a sort of serpent motion; and he had spoken with so much
+warmth and enthusiasm, that his pale face had become slightly tinged,
+and his repulsive ugliness had almost disappeared before the brilliancy
+of his small sharp eyes, now wide open, and fixed full upon Adrienne.
+The latter leaned forward, with half-open lips and deep-drawn breath,
+nor could she take her eyes from the Jesuit's; he had ceased to speak,
+and yet she was still listening. The feelings of the fair young lady,
+in presence of this little old man, dirty, ugly, and poor, were
+inexplicable. That comparison so common, and yet so true, of the
+frightful fascination of the bird by the serpent, might give some idea
+of the singular impression made upon her. Rodin's tactics were skillful
+and sure. Until now, Mdlle. de Cardoville had never analyzed her tastes
+or instincts. She had followed them, because they were inoffensive and
+charming. How happy and proud she then was sure to be to hear a man of
+superior mind not only praise these tendencies, for which she had been
+heretofore so severely blamed, but congratulate her upon them, as upon
+something great, noble, and divine! If Rodin had only addressed himself
+to Adrienne's self-conceit, he would have failed in his perfidious
+designs, for she had not the least spark of vanity. But he addressed
+himself to all that was enthusiastic and generous in her heart; that
+which he appeared to encourage and admire in her was really worthy of
+encouragement and admiration. How could she fail to be the dupe of such
+language, concealing though it did such dark and fatal projects?
+
+Struck with the Jesuit's rare intelligence, feeling her curiosity
+greatly excited by some mysterious words that he had purposely uttered,
+hardly explaining to herself the strange influence which this pernicious
+counsellor already exercised over her, and animated by respectful
+compassion for a man of his age and talents placed in so precarious a
+position, Adrienne said to him, with all her natural cordiality, "A man
+of your merit and character, sir, ought not to be at the mercy of the
+caprice of circumstances. Some of your words have opened a new horizon
+before me; I feel that, on many points, your counsels may be of the
+greatest use to me. Moreover, in coming to fetch me from this house, and
+in devoting yourself to the service of other persons of my family,
+you have shown me marks of interest which I cannot forget without
+ingratitude. You have lost a humble but secure situation. Permit me--"
+
+"Not a word more, my dear young lady," said Rodin, interrupting Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, with an air of chagrin. "I feel for you the deepest
+sympathy; I am honored by having ideas in common with you; I believe
+firmly that some day you will have to ask advice of the poor old
+philosopher; and, precisely because of all that, I must and ought to
+maintain towards you the most complete independence."
+
+"But, sir, it is I that would be the obliged party, if you deigned to
+accept what I offer."
+
+"Oh, my dear young lady," said Rodin, with a smile: "I know that your
+generosity would always know how to make gratitude light and easy; but,
+once more, I cannot accept anything from you. One day, perhaps, you will
+know why."
+
+"One day?"
+
+"It is impossible for me to tell you more. And then, supposing I were
+under an obligation to you, how could I tell you all that was good and
+beautiful in your actions? Hereafter, if you are somewhat indebted to
+me for my advice, so much the better; I shall be the more ready to blame
+you, if I find anything to blame."
+
+"In this way, sir, you would forbid me to be grateful to you."
+
+"No, no," said Rodin, with apparent emotion. "Oh, believe me! there will
+come a solemn moment, in which you may repay all, in a manner worthy of
+yourself and me."
+
+This conversation was here interrupted by the nurse, who said to
+Adrienne as she entered: "Madame, there is a little humpback workwoman
+downstairs, who wishes to speak to you. As, according to the doctor's
+new orders, you are to do as you like, I have come to ask, if I am to
+bring her up to you. She is so badly dressed, that I did not venture."
+
+"Bring her up, by all means," said Adrienne, hastily, for she had
+recognized Mother Bunch by the nurse's description. "Bring her up
+directly."
+
+"The doctor has also left word, that his carriage is to be at your
+orders, madame; are the horses to be put to?"
+
+"Yes, in a quarter of an hour," answered Adrienne to the nurse, who
+went out; then, addressing Rodin, she continued: "I do not think the
+magistrate can now be long, before he returns with Marshal Simon's
+daughters?"
+
+"I think not, my dear young lady; but who is this deformed workwoman?"
+asked Rodin, with an air of indifference.
+
+"The adopted sister of a gallant fellow, who risked all in endeavoring
+to rescue me from this house. And, sir," said Adrienne, with emotion,
+"this young workwoman is a rare and excellent creature. Never was
+a nobler mind, a more generous heart, concealed beneath an exterior
+less--"
+
+But reflecting, that Rodin seemed to unite in his own person the same
+moral and physical contrasts as the sewing-girl, Adrienne stopped short,
+and then added, with inimitable grace, as she looked at the Jesuit, who
+was somewhat astonished at the sudden pause: "No; this noble girl is
+not the only person who proves how loftiness of soul, and superiority of
+mind, can make us indifferent to the vain advantages which belong
+only to the accidents of birth or fortune." At the moment of Adrienne
+speaking these last words, Mother Bunch entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. SUSPICIONS.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville sprang hastily to meet the visitor, and said
+to her, in a voice of emotion, as she extended her arms towards her:
+"Come--come--there is no grating to separate us now!"
+
+On this allusion, which reminded her how her poor, laborious hand had
+been respectfully kissed by the fair and rich patrician, the young
+workwoman felt a sentiment of gratitude, which was at once ineffable
+and proud. But, as she hesitated to respond to the cordial reception,
+Adrienne embraced her with touching affection. When Mother Bunch found
+herself clasped in the fair arms of Mdlle. de Cardoville, when she felt
+the fresh and rosy lips of the young lady fraternally pressed to her own
+pale and sickly cheek, she burst into tears without being able to utter
+a word. Rodin, retired in a corner of the chamber, locked on this scene
+with secret uneasiness. Informed of the refusal, so full of dignity,
+which Mother Bunch had opposed to the perfidious temptations of the
+superior of St. Mary's Convent, and knowing the deep devotion of this
+generous creature for Agricola--a devotion which for some days she had
+so bravely extended to Mdlle. de Cardoville--the Jesuit did not like
+to see the latter thus laboring to increase that affection. He thought,
+wisely, that one should never despise friend or enemy, however small
+they may appear. Now, devotion to Mdlle. de Cardoville constituted an
+enemy in his eyes; and we know, moreover, that Rodin combined in
+his character rare firmness, with a certain degree of superstitious
+weakness, and he now felt uneasy at the singular impression of fear
+which Mother Bunch inspired in him. He determined to recollect this
+presentiment.
+
+Delicate natures sometimes display in the smallest things the most
+charming instincts of grace and goodness. Thus, when the sewing-girl was
+shedding abundant and sweet tears of gratitude, Adrienne took a richly
+embroidered handkerchief, and dried the pale and melancholy face. This
+action, so simple and spontaneous, spared the work-girl one humiliation;
+for, alas! humiliation and suffering are the two gulfs, along the edge
+of which misfortune continually passes. Therefore, the least kindness is
+in general a double benefit to the unfortunate. Perhaps the reader may
+smile in disdain at the puerile circumstance we mention. But poor
+Mother Bunch, not venturing to take from her pocket her old ragged
+handkerchief, would long have remained blinded by her tears, if Mdlle.
+de Cardoville had not come to her aid.
+
+"Oh! you are so good--so nobly charitable, lady!" was all that the
+sempstress could say, in a tone of deep emotion; for she was still more
+touched by the attention of the young lady, than she would perhaps have
+been by a service rendered.
+
+"Look there, sir," said Adrienne to Rodin, who drew near hastily.
+"Yes," added the young patrician, proudly, "I have indeed discovered
+a treasure. Look at her, sir; and love her as I love her, honor as I
+honor. She has one of those hearts for which we are seeking."
+
+"And which, thank heaven, we are still able to find, my dear young
+lady!" said Rodin, as he bowed to the needle-woman.
+
+The latter raised her eyes slowly, and locked at the Jesuit. At sight of
+that cadaverous countenance, which was smiling benignantly upon her, the
+young girl started. It was strange! she had never seen this man, and
+yet she felt instantly the same fear and repulsion that he had felt with
+regard to her. Generally timid and confused, the work-girl could not
+withdraw her eyes from Rodin's; her heart beat violently, as at the
+coming of some great danger, and, as the excellent creature feared only
+for those she loved, she approached Adrienne involuntarily, keeping
+her eyes fixed on Rodin. The Jesuit was too good a physiognomist not to
+perceive the formidable impression he had made, and he felt an increase
+of his instinctive aversion for the sempstress. Instead of casting down
+his eyes, he appeared to examine her with such sustained attention, that
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was astonished at it.
+
+"I beg your pardon, my dear girl," said Rodin, as if recalling his
+recollections, and addressing himself to Mother Bunch, "I beg your
+pardon--but I think--if I am not deceived--did you not go a few days
+since to St. Mary's Convent, hard by?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"No doubt, it was you. Where then was my head?" cried Rodin. "It was
+you--I should have guessed it sooner."
+
+"Of what do you speak, sir?" asked Adrienne.
+
+"Oh! you are right, my dear young lady," said Rodin, pointing to the
+hunchback. "She has indeed a noble heart, such as we seek. If you knew
+with what dignity, with what courage this poor girl, who was out of work
+and, for her, to want work is to want everything--if you knew, I say,
+with what dignity she rejected the shameful wages that the superior of
+the convent was unprincipled enough to offer, on condition of her acting
+as a spy in a family where it was proposed to place her."
+
+"Oh, that is infamous!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, with disgust. "Such
+a proposal to this poor girl--to her!"
+
+"Madame," said Mother Bunch, bitterly, "I had no work, I was poor, they
+did not know me--and they thought they might propose anything to the
+likes of me."
+
+"And I tell you," said Rodin, "that it was a double baseness on the part
+of the superior, to offer such temptation to misery, and it was doubly
+noble in you to refuse."
+
+"Sir," said the sewing-girl, with modest embarrassment.
+
+"Oh! I am not to be intimidated," resumed Rod in. "Praise or blame, I
+speak out roughly what I think. Ask this dear young lady," he added,
+with a glance at Adrienne. "I tell you plainly, that I think as well of
+you as she does herself."
+
+"Believe me, dear," said Adrienne, "there are some sorts of praise which
+honor, recompense, and encourage; and M. Rodin's is of the number. I
+know it,--yes, I know it."
+
+"Nay, my dear young lady, you must not ascribe to me all the honor of
+this judgment."
+
+"How so, sir?"
+
+"Is not this dear girl the adopted sister of Agricola Baudoin, the
+gallant workman, the energetic and popular poet? Is not the affection of
+such a man the best of guarantees, and does it not enable us to judge,
+as it were, by the label?" added Rodin, with a smile.
+
+"You are right, sir," said Adrienne; "for, before knowing this dear
+girl, I began to feel deeply interested in her, from the day that her
+adopted brother spoke to me about her. He expressed himself with so much
+warmth, so much enthusiasm, that I at once conceived an esteem for the
+person capable of inspiring so noble an attachment."
+
+These words of Adrienne, joined to another circumstance, had such
+an effect upon their hearer, that her pale face became crimson. The
+unfortunate hunchback loved Agricola, with love as passionate as it was
+secret and painful: the most indirect allusion to this fatal sentiment
+occasioned her the most cruel embarrassment. Now, the moment Mdlle. de
+Cardoville spoke of Agricola's attachment for Mother Bunch, the latter
+had encountered Rodin's observing and penetrating look fixed upon her.
+Alone with Adrienne, the sempstress would have felt only a momentary
+confusion on hearing the name of the smith; but unfortunately she
+fancied that the Jesuit, who already filled her with involuntary fear,
+had seen into her heart, and read the secrets of that fatal love, of
+which she was the victim. Thence the deep blushes of the poor girl, and
+the embarrassment so painfully visible, that Adrienne was struck with
+it.
+
+A subtle and prompt mind, like Rodin's on perceiving the smallest
+effect, immediately seeks the cause. Proceeding by comparison, the
+Jesuit saw on one side a deformed, but intelligent young girl, capable
+of passionate devotion; on the other, a young workman, handsome, bold,
+frank, and full of talent. "Brought up together, sympathizing with each
+other on many points, there must be some fraternal affection between
+them," said he to himself; "but fraternal affection does not blush, and
+the hunchback blushed and grew troubled beneath my look; does she, then,
+Love Agricola?"
+
+Once on the scent of this discovery, Rodin wished to pursue the
+investigation. Remarking the surprise and visible uneasiness that Mother
+Bunch had caused in Adrienne, he said to the latter, with a smile,
+looking significantly at the needlewoman: "You see, my dear young
+lady, how she blushes. The good girl is troubled by what we said of the
+attachment of this gallant workman."
+
+The needlewoman hung down her head, overcome with confusion. After the
+pause of a second, during which Rodin preserved silence, so as to give
+time for his cruel remark to pierce the heart of the victim, the savage
+resumed: "Look at the dear girl! how embarrassed she appears!"
+
+Again, after another silence, perceiving that Mother Bunch from crimson
+had become deadly pale, and was trembling in all her limbs, the Jesuit
+feared he had gone too far, whilst Adrienne said to her friend, with
+anxiety: "Why, dear child, are you so agitated?"
+
+"Oh! it is clear enough," resumed Rodin, with an air of perfect
+simplicity; for having discovered what he wished to know, he now chose
+to appear unconscious. "It is quite clear and plain. This good girl has
+the modesty of a kind and tender sister for a brother. When you praise
+him, she fancies that she is herself praised."
+
+"And she is as modest as she is excellent," added Adrienne, taking bath
+of the girl's hands, "the least praise, either of her adopted brother or
+of herself, troubles her in this way. But it is mere childishness, and I
+must scold her for it."
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville spoke sincerely, for the explanation given by Rodin
+appeared to her very plausible. Like all other persons who, dreading
+every moment the discovery of some painful secret have their courage
+as easily restored as shaken, Mother Bunch persuaded herself (and she
+needed to do so, to escape dying of shame), that the last words of Rodin
+were sincere, and that he had no idea of the love she felt for Agricola.
+So her agony diminished, and she found words to reply to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville.
+
+"Excuse me, madame," she said timidly, "I am so little accustomed to
+such kindness as that with which you overwhelm me, that I make a sorry
+return for all your goodness."
+
+"Kindness, my poor girl?" said Adrienne. "I have done nothing for
+you yet. But, thank heaven! from this day I shall be able to keep my
+promise, and reward your devotion to me, your courageous resignation,
+your sacred love of labor, and the dignity of which you have given so
+many proofs, under the most cruel privations. In a word, from this day,
+if you do not object to it, we will part no more."
+
+"Madame, you are too kind," said Mother Bunch, in a trembling voice;
+"but I--"
+
+"Oh! be satisfied," said Adrienne, anticipating her meaning. "If you
+accept my offer, I shall know how to reconcile with my desire (not
+a little selfish) of having you near me, the independence of your
+character, your habits of labor, your taste for retirement, and your
+anxiety to devote yourself to those who deserve commiseration; it is,
+I confess, by affording you the means of satisfying these generous
+tendencies, that I hope to seduce and keep you by me."
+
+"But what have I done?" asked the other, simply, "to merit any gratitude
+from you? Did you not begin, on the contrary, by acting so generously to
+my adopted brother?"
+
+"Oh! I do not speak of gratitude," said Adrienne; "we are quits. I speak
+of friendship and sincere affection, which I now offer you."
+
+"Friendship to me, madame?"
+
+"Come, come," said Adrienne, with a charming smile, "do not be proud
+because your position gives you the advantage. I have set my heart on
+having you for a friend, and you will see that it shall be so. But now
+that I think of it (a little late, you will say), what good wind brings
+you hither?"
+
+"This morning M. Dagobert received a letter, in which he was requested
+to come to this place, to learn some news that would be of the greatest
+interest to him. Thinking it concerned Marshal Simon's daughters, he
+said to me: 'Mother Bunch, you have taken so much interest in those
+dear children, that you must come with me: you shall witness my joy on
+finding them, and that will be your reward.'"
+
+Adrienne glanced at Rodin. The latter made an affirmative movement of
+the head, and answered: "Yes, yes, my dear young lady: it was I who
+wrote to the brave soldier, but without signing the letter, or giving
+any explanation. You shall know why."
+
+"Then, my dear girl, why did you come alone?" said Adrienne.
+
+"Alas, madame! on arriving here, it was your kind reception that made me
+forget my fears."
+
+"What fears?" asked Rodin.
+
+"Knowing that you lived here, madame, I supposed the letter was from
+you; I told M. Dagobert so, and he thought the same. When we arrived,
+his impatience was so great, that he asked at the door if the orphans
+were in this house, and he gave their description. They told him no.
+Then, in spite of my supplications, he insisted on going to the convent
+to inquire about them."
+
+"What imprudence!" cried Adrienne.
+
+"After what took place the other night, when he broke in," added Rodin,
+shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"It was in vain to tell him," returned Mother Bunch, "that the letter
+did not announce positively, that the orphans would be delivered up to
+him; but that, no doubt, he would gain some information about them. He
+refused to hear anything, but said to me: 'If I cannot find them, I will
+rejoin you. But they were at the convent the day before yesterday, and
+now that all is discovered, they cannot refuse to give them up--"
+
+"And with such a man there is no disputing!" said Rodin, with a smile.
+
+"I hope they will not recognize him!" said Adrienne, remembering
+Baleinier's threats.
+
+"It is not likely," replied Rodin; "they will only refuse him
+admittance. That will be, I hope, the worst misfortune that will happen.
+Besides, the magistrate will soon be here with the girls. I am no longer
+wanted: other cares require my attention. I must seek out Prince Djalma.
+Only tell me, my dear young lady, where I shall find you, to keep you
+informed of my discoveries, and to take measures with regard to the
+young prince, if my inquiries, as I hope, shall be attended with
+success."
+
+"You will find me in my new house, Rue d'Anjou, formerly Beaulieu House.
+But now I think of it," said Adrienne, suddenly, after some moments of
+reflection, "it would not be prudent or proper, on many accounts, to
+lodge the Prince Djalma in the pavilion I occupied at Saint-Dizier
+House. I saw, some time ago, a charming little house, all furnished and
+ready; it only requires some embellishments, that could be completed in
+twenty four hours, to make it a delightful residence. Yes, that will be
+a thousand times preferable," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, after a new
+interval of silence; "and I shall thus be able to preserve the strictest
+incognito."
+
+"What!" cried Rodin, whose projects would be much impeded by this new
+resolution of the young lady; "you do not wish him to know who you are?"
+
+"I wish Prince Djalma to know absolutely nothing of the anonymous friend
+who comes to his aid; I desire that my name should not be pronounced
+before him, and that he should not even know of my existence--at
+least, for the present. Hereafter--in a month, perhaps--I will see;
+circumstances will guide me."
+
+"But this incognito," said Rodin, hiding his disappointment, "will be
+difficult to preserve."
+
+"If the prince had inhabited the lodge, I agree with you; the
+neighborhood of my aunt would have enlightened him, and this fear is one
+of the reasons that have induced me to renounce my first project. But
+the prince will inhabit a distant quarter--the Rue Blanche. Who will
+inform him of my secret? One of my old friends, M. Norval--you, sir--and
+this dear girl," pointing to Mother Bunch, "on whose discretion I can
+depend as on your own, will be my only confidants. My secret will then
+be quite safe. Besides, we will talk further on this subject to-morrow.
+You must begin by discovering the retreat of this unfortunate young
+prince."
+
+Rodin, though much vexed at Adrienne's subtle determination with
+regard to Djalma, put the best face on the matter, and replied: "Your
+intentions shall be scrupulously fulfilled, my dear young lady; and
+to-morrow, with your leave, I hope to give you a good account of what
+you are pleased to call my providential mission."
+
+"To-morrow, then, I shall expect you with impatience," said Adrienne, to
+Rodin, affectionately. "Permit me always to rely upon you, as from this
+day you may count upon me. You must be indulgent with me, sir; for I see
+that I shall yet have many counsels, many services to ask of you--though
+I already owe you so much."
+
+"You will never owe me enough, my dear young lady, never enough,"
+said Rodin, as he moved discreetly towards the door, after bowing to
+Adrienne. At the very moment he was going out, he found himself face to
+face with Dagobert.
+
+"Holloa! at last I have caught one!" shouted the soldier, as he seized
+the Jesuit by the collar with a vigorous hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. EXCUSES.
+
+On seeing Dagobert grasp Rodin so roughly by the collar, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville exclaimed in terror, as she advanced several steps towards
+the soldier: "In the name of Heaven, sir! what are you doing?"
+
+"What am I doing?" echoed the soldier, harshly, without relaxing his
+hold on Rodin, and turning his head towards Adrienne, whom he did not
+know; "I take this opportunity to squeeze the throat of one of the
+wretches in the band of that renegade, until he tells me where my poor
+children are."
+
+"You strangle me," said the Jesuit, in a stifled voice, as he tried to
+escape from the soldier.
+
+"Where are the orphans, since they are not here, and the convent door
+has been closed against me?" cried Dagobert, in a voice of thunder.
+
+"Help! help!" gasped Rodin.
+
+"Oh! it is dreadful!" said Adrienne, as, pale and trembling, she held up
+her clasped hands to Dagobert. "Have mercy, sir! listen to me! listen to
+him!"
+
+"M. Dagobert!" cried Mother Bunch, seizing with her weak hands the
+soldier's arm, and showing him Adrienne, "this is Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+What violence in her presence! and then, you are deceived doubtless!"
+
+At the name of Mdlle. de Cardoville, the benefactress of his son, the
+soldier turned round suddenly, and loosened his hold on Rodin. The
+latter, crimson with rage and suffocation, set about adjusting his
+collar and his cravat.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madame," said Dagobert, going towards Adrienne, who
+was still pale with fright; "I did not known who you were, and the first
+impulse of anger quite carried me away."
+
+"But what has this gentleman done to you?" said Adrienne. "If you had
+listened to me, you would have learned--"
+
+"Excuse me if I interrupt you, madame," said the soldier to Adrienne, in
+a hollow voice. Then addressing himself to Rodin, who had recovered his
+coolness, he added: "Thank the lady, and begone!--If you remain here, I
+will not answer for myself."
+
+"One word only, my dear sir," said Rodin.
+
+"I tell you that if you remain, I will not answer for myself!" cried
+Dagobert, stamping his foot.
+
+"But, for heaven's sake, tell me the cause of this anger," resumed
+Adrienne; "above all, do not trust to appearances. Calm yourself, and
+listen."
+
+"Calm myself, madame!" cried Dagobert, in despair; "I can think only of
+one thing, ma dame--of the arrival of Marshal Simon--he will be in Paris
+to-day or to-morrow."
+
+"Is it possible?" said Adrienne. Rodin started with surprise and joy.
+
+"Yesterday evening," proceeded Dagobert, "I received a letter from the
+marshal: he has landed at Havre. For three days I have taken step
+after step, hoping that the orphans would be restored to me, as the
+machinations of those wretches have failed." He pointed to Rodin with a
+new gesture of impatience. "Well! it is not so. They are conspiring some
+new infamy. I am prepared for anything."
+
+"But, sir," said Rodin advancing, "permit me--"
+
+"Begone!" cried Dagobert, whose irritation and anxiety redoubled, as he
+thought how at any moment Marshal Simon might arrive in Paris. "Begone!
+Were it not for this lady, I would at least be revenged on some one."
+
+Rodin made a nod of intelligence to Adrienne, whom he approached
+prudently, and, pointing to Dagobert with a gesture of affectionate
+commiseration, he said to the latter: "I will leave you, sir, and the
+more willingly, as I was about to withdraw when you entered." Then,
+coming still closer to Mdlle. de Cardoville, the Jesuit whispered
+to her, "Poor soldier! he is beside himself with grief, and would be
+incapable of hearing me. Explain it all to him, my dear young lady;
+he will be nicely caught," added he, with a cunning air. "But in the
+meantime," resumed Rodin, feeling in the side-pocket of his great-coat
+and taking out a small parcel, "let me beg you to give him this, my dear
+young lady. It is my revenge, and a very good one."
+
+And while Adrienne, holding the little parcel in her hand looked at the
+Jesuit with astonishment, the latter laying his forefinger upon his lip,
+as if recommending silence, drew backward on tiptoe to the door, and
+went out after again pointing to Dagobert with a gesture of pity; while
+the soldier, in sullen dejection, with his head drooping, and his arms
+crossed upon his bosom, remained deaf to the sewing-girl's earnest
+consolations. When Rodin had left the room, Adrienne, approaching the
+soldier, said to him, in her mild voice, with an expression of deep
+interest, "Your sudden entry prevented my asking you a question that
+greatly concerns me. How is your wound?"
+
+"Thank you, madame," said Dagobert, starting from his painful lethargy,
+"it is of no consequence, but I have not time to think of it. I am sorry
+to have been so rough in your presence, and to have driven away that
+wretch; but 'tis more than I could master. At sight of those people, my
+blood is all up."
+
+"And yet, believe me, you have been too hasty in your judgment. The
+person who was just now here--"
+
+"Too hasty, madame! I do not see him to-day for the first time. He was
+with that renegade the Abbe d'Aigrigny--"
+
+"No doubt!--and yet he is an honest and excellent man."
+
+"He!" cried Dagobert.
+
+"Yes; for at this moment he is busy about only one thing restoring to
+you those dear children!"
+
+"He!" repeated Dagobert, as if he could not believe what he heard. "He
+restore me my children?"
+
+"Yes; and sooner, perhaps, than you think for."
+
+"Madame," said Dagobert, abruptly, "he deceives you. You are the dupe of
+that old rascal."
+
+"No," said Adrienne, shaking her head, with a smile. "I have proofs of
+his good faith. First of all, it is he who delivers me from this house."
+
+"Is it true?" said Dagobert, quite confounded.
+
+"Very true; and here is, perhaps, something that will reconcile you to
+him," said Adrienne, as she delivered the small parcel which Rodin
+had given her as he went out. "Not wishing to exasperate you by his
+presence, he said to me: 'Give this to that brave soldier; it is my
+revenge.'"
+
+Dagobert looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with surprise, as he
+mechanically opened the little parcel. When he had unfolded it, and
+discovered his own silver cross, black with age, and the old red, faded
+ribbon, treasures taken from him at the White Falcon Inn, at the same
+time as his papers, he exclaimed in a broken voice: "My cross! my cross!
+It is my cross!" In the excitement of his joy, he pressed the silver
+star to his gray moustache.
+
+Adrienne and the other were deeply affected by the emotion of the old
+soldier, who continued, as he ran towards the door by which Rodin had
+gone out: "Next to a service rendered to Marshal Simon, my wife, or son,
+nothing could be more precious to me. And you answer for this worthy
+man, madame, and I have ill used him in your presence! Oh! he is
+entitled to reparation, and he shall have it."
+
+So saying, Dagobert left the room precipitately, hastened through two
+other apartments, gained the staircase, and descending it rapidly,
+overtook Rodin on the lowest step.
+
+"Sir," said the soldier to him, in an agitated voice, as he seized him
+by the arm, "you must come upstairs directly."
+
+"You should make up your mind to one thing or the other, my dear sir,"
+said Rodin, stopping good-naturedly; "one moment you tell me to begone,
+and the next to return. How are we to decide?"
+
+"Just now, sir, I was wrong; and when I am wrong, I acknowledge it.
+I abused and ill-treated you before witnesses; I will make you my
+apologies before witnesses."
+
+"But, my dear sir--I am much obliged to you--I am in a hurry."
+
+"I cannot help your being in a hurry. I tell you, I must have you come
+upstairs, directly--or else--or else," resumed Dagobert, taking the hand
+of the Jesuit, and pressing it with as much cordiality as emotion, "or
+else the happiness you have caused the in returning my cross will not be
+complete."
+
+"Well, then, my good friend, let us go up."
+
+"And not only have you restored me my cross, for which I have wept many
+tears, believe me, unknown to any one," cried Dagobert, much affected;
+"but the young lady told me, that, thanks to you, those poor children
+but tell me--no false joy-is it really true?--My God! is it really
+true?"
+
+"Ah! ah! Mr. Inquisitive," said Rodin, with a cunning smile. Then he
+added: "Be perfectly tranquil, my growler; you shall have your two
+angels back again." And the Jesuit began to ascend the stairs.
+
+"Will they be restored to me to-day?" cried Dagobert, stopping Rodin
+abruptly, by catching hold of his sleeve.
+
+"Now, really, my good friend," said the Jesuit, "let us come to the
+point. Are we to go up or down? I do not find fault, but you turn me
+about like a teetotum."
+
+"You are right. We shall be better able to explain things upstairs. Come
+with me--quick! quick!" said Dagobert, as, taking the Jesuit by the arm,
+he hurried him along, and brought him triumphantly into the room, where
+Adrienne and Mother Bunch had remained in much surprise at the soldier's
+sudden disappearance.
+
+"Here he is! here he is!" cried Dagobert, as he entered. "Luckily, I
+caught him at the bottom of the stairs."
+
+"And you have made me come up at a fine pace!" added Rodin, pretty well
+out of breath.
+
+"Now, sir," said Dagobert, in a grave voice, "I declare, in presence of
+all, that I was wrong to abuse and ill-treat you. I make you my apology
+for it, sir; and I acknowledge, with joy, that I owe you--much--oh! very
+much and when I owe, I pay."
+
+So saying, Dagobert held out his honest hand to Rodin, who pressed it
+in a very affable manner, and replied: "Now, really--what is all this
+about? What great service do you speak of?"
+
+"This!" said Dagobert, holding up the cross before Rodin's eyes. "You do
+not know, then, what this cross is to me?"
+
+"On the contrary, supposing you would set great store by it, I intended
+to have the pleasure of delivering it myself. I had brought it for that
+purpose; but, between ourselves, you gave me so warm a reception, that I
+had not the time--"
+
+"Sir," said Dagobert, in confusion, "I assure you that I sincerely
+repent of what I have done."
+
+"I know it, my good friend; do not say another word about it. You were
+then much attached to this cross?"
+
+"Attached to it, sir!" cried Dagobert. "Why, this cross," and he kissed
+it as he spoke, "is my relic. He from whom it came was my saint--my
+hero--and he had touched it with his hand!"
+
+"Oh!" said Rodin, feigning to regard the cross with as much curiosity as
+respectful admiration; "did Napoleon--the Great Napoleon--indeed touch
+with his own hand--that victorious hand!--this noble star of honor?"
+
+"Yes, sir, with his own hand. He placed it there upon my bleeding
+breast, as a cure for my fifth wound. So that, you see, were I dying of
+hunger, I think I should not hesitate betwixt bread and my cross--that
+I might, in any case, have it on my heart in death. But, enough--enough!
+let us talk of something else. It is foolish in an old soldier, is it
+not?" added Dagobert, drawing his hand across his eyes, and then, as
+if ashamed to deny what he really felt: "Well, then! yes," he resumed,
+raising his head proudly, and no longer seeking to conceal the tears
+that rolled down his cheek; "yes, I weep for joy, to have found my
+cross--my cross, that the Emperor gave me with his victorious hand, as
+this worthy man has called it."
+
+"Then blessed be my poor old hand for having restored you the glorious
+treasure!" said Rodin, with emotion. "In truth," he added, "the day will
+be a good one for everybody--as I announced to you this morning in my
+letter."
+
+"That letter without a signature?" asked the soldier, more and more
+astonished. "Was it from you?"
+
+"It was I who wrote it. Only, fearing some new snare of the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny, I did not choose, you understand, to explain myself more
+clearly."
+
+"Then--I shall see--my orphans?"
+
+Rodin nodded affirmatively, with an expression of great good-nature.
+
+"Presently--perhaps immediately," said Adrienne, with smile. "Well! was
+I right in telling you that you had not judged this gentleman fairly?"
+
+"Why did he not tell me this when I came in?" cried Dagobert, almost
+beside himself with joy.
+
+"There was one difficulty in the way, my good friend," said Rodin; "it
+was, that when you came in, you nearly throttled me."
+
+"True; I was too hasty. Once more, I ask your pardon. But was I to
+blame? I had only seen you with that Abbe d'Aigrigny, and in the first
+moment--"
+
+"This dear young lady," said Rodin, bowing to Adrienne, "will tell you
+that I have been, without knowing it, the accomplice IN many perfidious
+actions; but as soon as I began to see my way through the darkness, I
+quitted the evil course on which I had entered, and returned to that
+which is honest, just and true."
+
+Adrienne nodded affirmatively to Dagobert, who appeared to consult her
+look.
+
+"If I did not sign the letter that I wrote to you, my good friend, it
+was partly from fear that my name might inspire suspicion; and if I
+asked you to come hither, instead of to the convent, it was that I had
+some dread--like this dear young lady--lest you might be recognized by
+the porter or by the gardener, your affair of the other night rendering
+such a recognition somewhat dangerous."
+
+"But M. Baleinier knows all; I forgot that," said Adrienne, with
+uneasiness. "He threatened to denounce M. Dagobert and his son, if I
+made any complaint."
+
+"Do not be alarmed, my dear young lady; it will soon be for you to
+dictate conditions," replied Rodin. "Leave that to me; and as for you,
+my good friend, your torments are now finished."
+
+"Yes," said Adrienne, "an upright and worthy magistrate has gone to the
+convent, to fetch Marshal Simon's daughters. He will bring them hither;
+but he thought with me, that it would be most proper for them to take
+up their abode in my house. I cannot, however, come to this decision
+without your consent, for it is to you that these orphans were entrusted
+by their mother."
+
+"You wish to take her place with regard to them, madame?" replied
+Dagobert. "I can only thank you with all my heart, for myself and for
+the children. But, as the lesson has been a sharp one, I must beg to
+remain at the door of their chamber, night and day. If they go out with
+you, I must be allowed to follow them at a little distance, so as to
+keep them in view, just like Spoil-sport, who has proved himself a
+better guardian than myself. When the marshal is once here--it will be
+in a day or two--my post will be relieved. Heaven grant it may be soon!"
+
+"Yes," replied Rodin, in a firm voice, "heaven grant he may arrive soon,
+for he will have to demand a terrible reckoning of the Abbe d'Aigrigny,
+for the persecution of his daughters; and yet the marshal does not know
+all."
+
+"And don't you tremble for the renegade?" asked Dagobert, as he thought
+how the marquis would soon find himself face to face with the marshal.
+
+"I never care for cowards and traitors," answered Rodin; "and when
+Marshal Simon returns--" Then, after a pause of some seconds, he
+continued: "If he will do me the honor to hear me, he shall be edified
+as to the conduct of the Abbe d'Aigrigny. The marshal knows that his
+dearest friends, as well as himself, have been victims of the hatred of
+that dangerous man."
+
+"How so?" said Dagobert.
+
+"Why, yourself, for instance," replied Rodin; "you are an example of
+what I advance."
+
+"Do you think it was mere chance, that brought about the scene at the
+White Falcon Inn, near Leipsic?"
+
+"Who told you of that scene?" said Dagobert in astonishment.
+
+"Where you accepted the challenge of Morok," continued the Jesuit,
+without answering Dagobert's question, "and so fell into a trap, or else
+refused it, and were then arrested for want of papers, and thrown into
+prison as a vagabond, with these poor children. Now, do you know the
+object of this violence? It was to prevent your being here on the 13th
+of February."
+
+"But the more I hear, sir," said Adrienne, "the more I am alarmed at the
+audacity of the Abbe d'Aigrigny, and the extent of the means he has at
+his command. Really," she resumed, with increasing surprise, "if your
+words were not entitled to absolute belief--"
+
+"You would doubt their truth, madame?" said Dagobert. "It is like me.
+Bad as he is. I cannot think that this renegade had relations with a
+wild-beast showman as far off as Saxony; and then, how could he know
+that I and the children were to pass through Leipsic? It is impossible,
+my good man."
+
+"In fact, sir," resumed Adrienne, "I fear that you are deceived by your
+dislike (a very legitimate one) of Abbe d'Aigrigny, and that you ascribe
+to him an almost fabulous degree of power and extent of influence."
+
+After a moment's silence, during which Rodin looked first at Adrienne
+and then at Dagobert, with a kind of pity, he resumed. "How could
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny have your cross in his possession, if he had no
+connection with Morok?"
+
+"That is true, sir," said Dagobert; "joy prevented me from reflecting.
+But how indeed, did my cross come into your hands?"
+
+"By means of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's having precisely those relations with
+Leipsic, of which you and the young lady seem to doubt."
+
+"But how did my cross get to Paris?"
+
+"Tell me; you were arrested at Leipsic for want of papers--is it not
+so?"
+
+"Yes; but I could never understand how my passports and money
+disappeared from my knapsack. I thought I must have had the misfortune
+to lose them."
+
+Rodin shrugged his shoulders, and replied: "You were robbed of them
+at the White Falcon Inn, by Goliath, one of Morok's servants, and the
+latter sent the papers and the cross to the Abbe d'Aigrigny, to prove
+that he had succeeded in executing his orders with respect to the
+orphans and yourself. It was the day before yesterday, that I obtained
+the key of that dark machination. Cross and papers were amongst the
+stores of Abbe d'Aigrigny; the papers formed a considerable bundle,
+and he might have missed them; but, hoping to see you this morning, and
+knowing how a soldier of the Empire values his cross, his sacred relic,
+as you call it, my good friend--I did not hesitate. I put the relic into
+my pocket. 'After all,' said I, 'it is only restitution, and my delicacy
+perhaps exaggerates this breach of trust.'"
+
+"You could not have done a better action," said Adrienne; "and, for my
+part, because of the interest I feel for M. Dagobert--I take it as a
+personal favor. But, sir," after a moment's silence, she resumed with
+anxiety: "What terrible power must be at the command of M. d'Aigrigny,
+for him to have such extensive and formidable relations in a foreign
+country!"
+
+"Silence!" said Rodin, in a low voice, and looking round him with an air
+of alarm. "Silence! In heaven's name do not ask me about it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REVELATIONS.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, much astonished at the alarm displayed by Rodin,
+when she had asked him for some explanation of the formidable and far
+reaching power of the Abby d'Aigrigny, said to him: "Why, sir, what is
+there so strange in the question that I have just asked you?"
+
+After a moment's silence, Rodin cast his looks all around, with well
+feigned uneasiness, and replied in a whisper: "Once more, madame, do not
+question me on so fearful a subject. The walls of this house may have
+ears."
+
+Adrienne and Dagobert looked at each other with growing surprise. Mother
+Bunch, by an instinct of incredible force, continued to regard Rodin
+with invincible suspicion. Sometimes she stole a glance at him, as if
+trying to penetrate the mask of this man, who filled her with fear. At
+one moment, the Jesuit encountered her anxious gaze, obstinately fixed
+upon him; immediately he nodded to her with the greatest amenity. The
+young girl, alarmed at finding herself observed, turned away with a
+shudder.
+
+"No, no, my dear young lady," resumed Rodin, with a sigh, as he saw
+Mdlle. de Cardoville astonished at his silence; "do not question me on
+the subject of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's power!"
+
+"But, to persist, sir," said Adrienne; "why this hesitation to answer?
+What do you fear?"
+
+"Ah, my dear young lady," said Rodin, shuddering, "those people are so
+powerful! their animosity is so terrible!"
+
+"Be satisfied, sir; I owe you too much, for my support ever to fail
+you."
+
+"Ah, my dear young lady," cried Rodin, as if hurt by the supposition;
+"think better of me, I entreat you. Is it for myself that I fear?--No,
+no; I am too obscure, too inoffensive; but it is for you, for Marshal
+Simon, for the other members of your family, that all is to be feared.
+Oh, my dear young lady! let me beg you to ask no questions. There are
+secrets which are fatal to those who possess them."
+
+"But, sir, is it not better to know the perils with which one is
+threatened?"
+
+"When you know the manoeuvres of your enemy, you may at least defend
+yourself," said Dagobert. "I prefer an attack in broad daylight to an
+ambuscade."
+
+"And I assure you," resumed Adrienne, "the few words you have spoken
+cause me a vague uneasiness."
+
+"Well, if I must, my dear young lady," replied the Jesuit, appearing to
+make a great effort, "since you do not understand my hints, I will be
+more explicit; but remember," added he, in a deeply serious tone, "that
+you have persevered in forcing me to tell you what you had perhaps
+better not have known."
+
+"Speak, Sir, I pray you speak," said Adrienne.
+
+Drawing about him Adrienne, Dagobert, and Mother Bunch, Rodin said to
+them in a low voce, and with a mysterious air: "Have you never heard of
+a powerful association, which extends its net over all the earth, and
+counts its disciples, agents, and fanatics in every class of society
+which has had, and often has still, the ear of kings and nobles--which,
+in a word, can raise its creatures to the highest positions, and with a
+word can reduce them again to the nothingness from which it alone could
+uplift them?"
+
+"Good heaven, sir!" said Adrienne, "what formidable association? Until
+now I never heard of it."
+
+"I believe you; and yet your ignorance on this subject greatly
+astonishes me, my dear young lady."
+
+"And why should it astonish you?"
+
+"Because you lived some time with your aunt, and must have often seen
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny."
+
+"I lived at the princess's, but not with her; for a thousand reasons she
+had inspired me with warrantable aversion."
+
+"In truth, my dear young lady, my remark was ill-judged. It was there,
+above all, and particularly in your presence, that they would keep
+silence with regard to this association--and yet to it alone did the
+Princess de Saint-Dizier owe her formidable influence in the world,
+during the last reign. Well, then; know this--it is the aid of that
+association which renders the Abbe d'Aigrigny so dangerous a man.
+
+"By it he was enabled to follow and to reach divers members of your
+family, some in Siberia, some in India, others on the heights of the
+American mountains; but, as I have told you, it was only the day before
+yesterday, and by chance, that, examining the papers of Abbe d'Aigrigny,
+I found the trace of his connection with this Company, of which he is
+the most active and able chief."
+
+"But the name, sir, the name of this Company?" said Adrienne.
+
+"Well! it is--" but Rodin stopped short.
+
+"It is," repeated Adrienne, who was now as much interested as Dagobert
+and the sempstress; "it is--"
+
+Rodin looked round him, beckoned all the actors in this scene to draw
+nearer, and said in a whisper, laying great stress upon the words: "It
+is--the Society of Jesus!" and he again shuddered.
+
+"The Jesuits!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, unable to restrain a burst
+of laughter, which was the more buoyant, as, from the mysterious
+precautions of Rodin, she had expected some very different revelation.
+"The Jesuits!" she resumed, still laughing. "They have no existence,
+except in books; they are frightful historical personages, certainly;
+but why should you put forward Madame de Saint-Dizier and M. d'Aigrigny
+in that character? Such as they are, they have done quite enough to
+justify my aversion and disdain."
+
+After listening in silence to Mdlle. de Cardoville Rodin continued, with
+a grave and agitated air: "Your blindness frightens me, my dear, young
+lady; the past should have given you some anxiety for the future, since,
+more than any one, you have already suffered from the fatal influence of
+this Company, whose existence you regard as a dream!"
+
+"I, sir?" said Adrienne, with a smile, although a little surprised.
+
+"You."
+
+"Under what circumstances?"
+
+"You ask me this question! my dear young lady! you ask me this
+question!--and yet you have been confined here as a mad person! Is it
+not enough to tell you that the master of this house is one of the most
+devoted lay members of the Company, and therefore the blind instrument
+of the Abbe d'Aigrigny?"
+
+"So," said Adrienne, this time without smiling, "Dr. Baleinier"
+
+"Obeyed the Abbe d'Aigrigny, the most formidable chief of that
+formidable society. He employs his genius for evil; but I must confess
+he is a man of genius. Therefore, it is upon him that you and yours must
+fix all your doubts and suspicions; it is against him that you must be
+upon your guard. For, believe me, I know him, and he does not look upon
+the game as lost. You must be prepared for new attacks, doubtless of
+another kind, but only the more dangerous on that account--"
+
+"Luckily, you give us notice," said Dagobert, "and you will be on our
+side."
+
+"I can do very little, my good friends; but that little is at the
+service of honest people," said Rodin.
+
+"Now," said Adrienne, with a thoughtful air, completely persuaded by
+Rodin's air of conviction, "I can explain the inconceivable influence
+that my aunt exercised in the world. I ascribed it chiefly to her
+relations with persons in power; I thought that she, like the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny, was concerned in dark intrigues, for which religion served
+as a veil--but I was far from believing what you tell me."
+
+"How many things you have got to learn!" resumed Rodin. "If you knew, my
+dear young lady, with what art these people surround you, without your
+being aware of it, by agents devoted to themselves! Every one of your
+steps is known to them, when they have any interest in such knowledge.
+Thus, little by little, they act upon you--slowly, cautiously,
+darkly. They circumvent you by every possible means, from flattery to
+terror--seduce or frighten, in order at last to rule you, without your
+being conscious of their authority. Such is their object, and I must
+confess they pursue it with detestable ability."
+
+Rodin had spoken with so much sincerity, that Adrienne trembled; then,
+reproaching herself with these fears, she resumed: "And yet, no--I can
+never believe in so infernal a power; the might of priestly ambition
+belongs to another age. Heaven be praised, it has disappeared forever!"
+
+"Yes, certainly, it is out of sight; for they now know how to disperse
+and disappear, when circumstances require it. But then are they the
+most dangerous; for suspicion is laid asleep, and they keep watch in the
+dark. Oh! my dear young lady, if you knew their frightful ability! In
+my hatred of all that is oppressive, cowardly, and hypocritical, I had
+studied the history of that terrible society, before I knew that the
+Abbe d'Aigrigny belonged to it. Oh! it is dreadful. If you knew what
+means they employ! When I tell you that, thanks to their diabolical
+devices, the most pure and devoted appearances often conceal the most
+horrible snares." Rodin's eye rested, as if by chance, on the hunchback;
+but, seeing that Adrienne did not take the hint, the Jesuit continued:
+"In a word--are you not exposed to their pursuits?--have they any
+interest in gaining you over?--oh! from that moment, suspect all that
+surround you, suspect the most noble attachments, the most tender
+affections, for these monsters sometimes succeed in corrupting your
+best friends, and making a terrible use of them, in proportion to the
+blindness of your confidence."
+
+"Oh! it is impossible," cried Adrienne, in horror. "You must exaggerate.
+No! hell itself never dreamed of more frightful treachery!"
+
+"Alas, my dear young lady! one of your relations, M. Hardy--the most
+loyal and generous-hearted man that could be--has been the victim of
+some such infamous treachery. Do you know what we learned from the
+reading of your ancestor's will? Why, that he died the victim of the
+malevolence of these people; and now, at the lapse of a hundred and
+fifty years, his descendants are still exposed to the hate of that
+indestructible society."
+
+"Oh, sir! it terrifies me," said Adrienne, feeling her heart sink within
+her. "But are there no weapons against such attacks?"
+
+"Prudence, my dear young lady--the most watchful caution--the most
+incessant study and suspicion of all that approach you."
+
+"But such a life would be frightful! It is a torture to be the victim of
+continual suspicions, doubts, and fears."
+
+"Without doubt! They know it well, the wretches! That constitutes their
+strength. They often triumph by the very excess of the precautions
+taken against them. Thus, my dear young lady, and you, brave and worthy
+soldier, in the name of all that is dear to you, be on your guard, and
+do not lightly impart your confidence. Be on your guard, for you have
+nearly fallen the victims of those people. They will always be your
+implacable enemies. And you, also, poor, interesting girl!" added the
+Jesuit, speaking to Mother Bunch, "follow my advice--fear these people.
+Sleep, as the proverb says, with one eye open."
+
+"I, sir!" said the work-girl. "What have I done? what have I to fear?"
+
+"What have you done? Dear me! Do not you tenderly love this young lady,
+your protectress? have you not attempted to assist her? Are you not the
+adopted sister of the son of this intrepid soldier, the brave Agricola!
+Alas, poor, girl! are not these sufficient claims to their hatred, in
+spite of your obscurity? Nay, my dear young lady! do not think that I
+exaggerate. Reflect! only reflect! Think what I have just said to
+the faithful companion-in-arms of Marshal Simon, with regard to his
+imprisonment at Leipsic. Think what happened to yourself, when, against
+all law and reason, you were brought hither. Then you will see, that
+there is nothing exaggerated in the picture I have drawn of the secret
+power of this Company. Be always on your guard, and, in doubtful cases,
+do not fear to apply to me. In three days, I have learned enough by my
+own experience, with regard to their manner of acting, to be able to
+point out to you many a snare, device, and danger, and to protect you
+from them."
+
+"In any such case, sir," replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, "my interests, as
+well as gratitude, would point to you as my best counsellor."
+
+According to the skillful tactics of the sons of Loyola, who sometimes
+deny their own existence, in order to escape from an adversary--and
+sometimes proclaim with audacity the living power of their organization,
+in order to intimidate the feeble-R-odin had laughed in the face of the
+bailiff of Cardoville, when the latter had spoken of the existence of
+the Jesuits; while now, at this moment, picturing their means of action,
+he endeavored, and he succeeded in the endeavor, to impregnate the mind
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville with some germs of doubt, which were gradually
+to develop themselves by reflection, and serve hereafter the dark
+projects that he meditated. Mother Bunch still felt considerable alarm
+with regard to Rodin. Yet, since she had heard the fatal powers of the
+formidable Order revealed to Adrienne, the young sempstress, far from
+suspecting the Jesuit of having the audacity to speak thus of a society
+of which he was himself a member, felt grateful to him, in spite of
+herself, for the important advice that he had just given her patroness.
+The side-glance which she now cast upon him (which Rodin also detected,
+for he watched the young girl with sustained attention), was full
+of gratitude, mingled with surprise. Guessing the nature of this
+impression, and wishing entirely to remove her unfavorable opinion, and
+also to anticipate a revelation which would be made sooner or later,
+the Jesuit appeared to have forgotten something of great importance,
+and exclaimed, striking his forehead: "What was I thinking of?" Then,
+speaking to Mother Bunch, he added: "Do you know where your sister is,
+my dear girl?" Disconcerted and saddened by this unexpected question,
+the workwoman answered with a blush, for she remembered her last
+interview with the brilliant Bacchanal Queen: "I have not seen my sister
+for some days, sir."
+
+"Well, my dear girl, she is not very comfortable," said Rodin; "I
+promised one of her friends to send her some little assistance. I have
+applied to a charitable person, and that is what I received for her."
+So saying, he drew from his pocket a sealed roll of coin, which he
+delivered to Mother Bunch, who was now both surprised and affected.
+
+"You have a sister in trouble, and I know nothing of it?" said Adrienne,
+hastily. "This is not right of you, my child!"
+
+"Do not blame her," said Rodin. "First of all, she did not know that her
+sister was in distress, and, secondly, she could not ask you, my dear
+young lady, to interest yourself about her."
+
+As Mdlle. de Cardoville looked at Rodin with astonishment, he added,
+again speaking to the hunchback: "Is not that true, my dear girl!"
+
+"Yes, sir," said the sempstress, casting down her eyes and blushing.
+Then she added, hastily and anxiously: "But when did you see my sister,
+sir? where is she? how did she fall into distress?"
+
+"All that would take too long to tell you, my dear girl; but go as soon
+as possible to the greengrocer's in the Rue Clovis, and ask to speak to
+your sister as from M. Charlemagne or M. Rodin, which you please, for
+I am equally well known in that house by my Christian name as by my
+surname, and then you will learn all about it. Only tell your sister,
+that, if she behaves well, and keeps to her good resolutions, there are
+some who will continue to look after her."
+
+More and more surprised, Mother Bunch was about to answer Rodin, when
+the door opened, and M. de Gernande entered. The countenance of the
+magistrate was grave and sad.
+
+"Marshal Simon's daughters!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"Unfortunately, they are not with me," answered the judge.
+
+"Then, where are they, sir? What have they done with them? The day
+before yesterday, they were in the convent!" cried Dagobert, overwhelmed
+by this complete destruction of his hopes.
+
+Hardly had the soldier pronounced these words, when, profiting by
+the impulse which gathered all the actors in this scene about the
+magistrate, Rodin withdrew discreetly towards the door, and disappeared
+without any one perceiving his absence. Whilst the soldier, thus
+suddenly thrown back to the depths of his despair, looked at M. de
+Gernande, waiting with anxiety for the answer, Adrienne said to the
+magistrate: "But, sir, when you applied at the convent, what explanation
+did the superior give on the subject of these young girls?"
+
+"The lady superior refused to give any explanation, madame. 'You
+pretend,' said she, 'that the young persons of whom you speak are
+detained here against their will. Since the law gives you the right of
+entering this house, make your search.' 'But, madame, please to answer
+me positively,' said I to the superior; 'do you declare, that you know
+nothing of the young girls, whom I have come to claim?' 'I have nothing
+to say on this subject, sir. You assert, that you are authorized to
+make a search: make it.' Not being able to get any other explanation,"
+continued the magistrate, "I searched all parts of the convent, and had
+every door opened--but, unfortunately, I could find no trace of these
+young ladies."
+
+"They must have sent them elsewhere," cried Dagobert; "who
+knows?--perhaps, ill. They will kill them--O God! they will kill them!"
+cried he, in a heart-rending tone.
+
+"After such a refusal, what is to be done? Pray, sir, give us your
+advice; you are our providence," said Adrienne, turning to speak to
+Rodin, who she fancied was behind her. "What is your--"
+
+Then, perceiving that the Jesuit had suddenly disappeared, she said to
+Mother Bunch, with uneasiness: "Where is M. Rodin?"
+
+"I do not know, madame," answered the girl, looking round her; "he is no
+longer here."
+
+"It is strange," said Adrienne, "to disappear so abruptly!"
+
+"I told you he was a traitor!" cried Dagobert, stamping with rage; "they
+are all in a plot together."
+
+"No, no," said Mdlle. de Cardoville; "do not think that. But the
+absence is not the less to be regretted, for, under these difficult
+circumstances, he might have given us very useful information, thanks to
+the position he occupied at M. d'Aigrigny's."
+
+"I confess, madame, that I rather reckoned upon it," said M. de
+Gernande; "and I returned hither, not only to inform you of the
+fruitless result of my search, but also to seek from the upright and
+honorable roan, who so courageously unveiled these odious machinations,
+the aid of his counsels in this contingency."
+
+Strangely enough, for the last few moments Dagobert was so completely
+absorbed in thought, that he paid no attention to the words of the
+magistrate, however important to him. He did not even perceive the
+departure of M. de Gernande, who retired after promising Adrienne that
+he would neglect no means to arrive at the truth, in regard to the
+disappearance of the orphans. Uneasy at this silence, wishing to quit
+the house immediately, and induce Dagobert to accompany her, Adrienne,
+after exchanging a rapid glance with Mother Bunch, was advancing towards
+the soldier, when hasty steps were heard from without the chamber, and a
+manly sonorous voice, exclaiming with impatience, "Where is he--where is
+he?"
+
+At the sound of this voice, Dagobert seemed to rouse himself with a
+start, made a sudden bound, and with a loud cry, rushed towards the
+door. It opened. Marshal Simon appeared on the threshold!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. PIERRE SIMON.
+
+Marshal Pierre Simon, Duke de Ligny, was a man of tall stature, plainly
+dressed in a blue frock-coat, buttoned up to the throat, with a red
+ribbon tied to the top buttonhole. You could not have wished to see
+a more frank, honest, and chivalrous cast of countenance than the
+marshal's. He had a broad forehead, an aquiline nose, a well formed
+chin, and a complexion bronzed by exposure to the Indian sun. His hair,
+cut very short, was inclined to gray about the temples; but his eyebrows
+were still as black as his large, hanging moustache. His walk was free
+and bold, and his decided movements showed his military impetuosity. A
+man of the people, a man of war and action, the frank cordiality of
+his address invited friendliness and sympathy. As enlightened as he was
+intrepid as generous as he was sincere, his manly, plebeian pride was
+the most remarkable part of his character. As others are proud of their
+high birth, so was he of his obscure origin, because it was ennobled by
+the fine qualities of his father, the rigid republican, the intelligent
+and laborious artisan, who, for the space of forty years, had been the
+example and the glory of his fellow-workmen. In accepting with gratitude
+the aristocratic title which the Emperor had bestowed upon him, Pierre
+Simon acted with that delicacy which receives from a friendly hand a
+perfectly useless gift, and estimates it according to the intention of
+the giver. The religious veneration of Pierre Simon for the Emperor had
+never been blind; in proportion as his devotion and love for his idol
+were instructive and necessary, his admiration was serious, and founded
+upon reason. Far from resembling those swashbucklers who love fighting
+for its own sake, Marshal Simon not only admired his hero as the
+greatest captain in the world, but he admired him, above all, because he
+knew that the Emperor had only accepted war in the hope of one day being
+able to dictate universal peace; for if peace obtained by glory and
+strength is great, fruitful, and magnificent, peace yielded by weakness
+and cowardice is sterile, disastrous, and dishonoring. The son of a
+workman, Pierre Simon still further admired the Emperor, because that
+imperial parvenu had always known how to make that popular heart beat
+nobly, and, remembering the people, from the masses of whom he first
+arose, had invited them fraternally to share in regal and aristocratic
+pomp.
+
+When Marshal Simon entered the room, his countenance was much agitated.
+At sight of Dagobert, a flash of joy illumined his features; he rushed
+towards the soldier, extending his arms, and exclaimed, "My friend! my
+old friend!"
+
+Dagobert answered this affectionate salute with silent emotion. Then the
+marshal, disengaging himself from his arms, and fixing his moist eyes
+upon him, said to him in so agitated a voice that his lips trembled,
+"Well, didst arrive in time for the 13th of February?"
+
+"Yes, general; but everything is postponed for four months."
+
+"And--my wife?--my child?" At this question Dagobert shuddered, hung
+down his head, and was silent.
+
+"They are not, then, here?" asked Simon, with more surprise than
+uneasiness. "They told me they were not at your house, but that I should
+find you here--and I came immediately. Are they not with you?"
+
+"General," said Dagobert, becoming deadly pale; "general--" Drying
+the drops of cold sweat that stood upon his forehead, he was unable to
+articulate a word, for his voice was checked in his parched throat.
+
+"You frighten me!" exclaimed Pierre Simon, becoming pale as the soldier,
+and seizing him by the arm.
+
+At this, Adrienne advanced, with a countenance full of grief and
+sympathy; seeing the cruel embarrassment of Dagobert, she wished to come
+to his assistance, and she said to Pierre Simon, in a mild but agitated
+voice, "Marshal, I am Mdlle. de Cardoville--a relation of your dear
+children."
+
+Pierre Simon turned around suddenly, as much struck with the dazzling
+beauty of Adrienne as with the words she had just pronounced. He
+stammered out in his surprise, "You, madame--a relation--of my
+children!"
+
+He laid a stress on the last words, and looked at Dagobert in a kind of
+stupor.
+
+"Yes, marshal your children," hastily replied Adrienne; "and the love of
+those charming twin sisters--"
+
+"Twin sisters!" cried Pierre Simon, interrupting Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+with an outburst of joy impossible to describe. "Two daughters instead
+of one! Oh! what happiness for their mother! Pardon me, madame, for
+being so impolite," he continued; "and so little grateful for what you
+tell me. But you will understand it; I have been seventeen years without
+seeing my wife; I come, and I find three loved beings, instead of two.
+Thanks, madame: would I could express all the gratitude I owe you! You
+are our relation; this is no doubt your house; my wife and children
+are with you. Is it so? You think that my sudden appearance might be
+prejudicial to them? I will wait--but madame, you, that I am certain
+are good as fair--pity my impatience--will make haste to prepare them to
+receive me--"
+
+More and more agitated, Dagobert avoided the marshal's gaze, and
+trembled like a leaf. Adrienne cast down her eyes without answering.
+Her heart sunk within her, at thought of dealing the terrible blow to
+Marshal Simon.
+
+The latter, astonished at this silence, looking at Adrienne, then at
+the soldier, became first uneasy, and at last alarmed. "Dagobert!" he
+exclaimed, "something is concealed from me!"
+
+"General!" stammered the soldier, "I assure you--I--I--."
+
+"Madame!" cried Pierre Simon, "I conjure you, in pity, speak to me
+frankly!--my anxiety is horrible. My first fears return upon me. What
+is it? Are my wife and daughters ill? Are they in danger? Oh! speak!
+speak!"
+
+"Your daughters, marshal," said Adrienne "have been rather unwell, since
+their long journey--but they are in no danger."
+
+"Oh, heaven! it is my wife!"
+
+"Have courage, sir!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, sadly. "Alas! you must
+seek consolation in the affection of the two angels that remain to you."
+
+"General!" said Dagobert, in a firm grave tone, "I returned from
+Siberia--alone with your two daughters."
+
+"And their mother! their mother!" cried Simon, in a voice of despair.
+
+"I set out with the two orphans the day after her death," said the
+soldier.
+
+"Dead?" exclaimed Pierre Simon, overwhelmed by the stroke; "dead?" A
+mournful silence was the only answer. The marshal staggered beneath this
+unexpected shock, leaned on the back of a chair for support, and then,
+sinking into the seat, concealed his face with his hands. For same
+minutes nothing was heard but stifled sobs, for not only had Pierre
+Simon idolized his wife, but by one of those singular compromises, that
+a man long cruelly tried sometimes makes with destiny, Pierre Simon,
+with the fatalism of loving souls, thought he had a right to reckon upon
+happiness after so many years of suffering, and had not for a moment
+doubted that he should find his wife and child--a double consolation
+reserved to him after going through so much. Very different from certain
+people, whom the habit of misfortune renders less exacting, Simon had
+reckoned upon happiness as complete as had been his misery. His wife and
+child were the sole, indispensable conditions of this felicity, and, had
+the mother survived her daughters, she would have no more replaced them
+in his eyes than they did her. Weakness or avarice of the heart, so it
+was; we insist upon this singularity, because the consequences of these
+incessant and painful regrets exercised a great influence on the
+future life of Marshal Simon. Adrienne and Dagobert had respected the
+overwhelming grief of this unfortunate man. When he had given a free
+course to his tears, he raised his manly countenance, now of marble
+paleness, drew his hand across his blood-shot eyes, rose, and said to
+Adrienne, "Pardon me, madame; I could not conquer my first emotion.
+Permit me to retire. I have cruel details to ask of the worthy friend
+who only quitted my wife at the last moment. Have the kindness to let
+me see my children--my poor orphans!--" And the marshal's voice again
+broke.
+
+"Marshal," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, "just now we were expecting your
+dear children: unfortunately, we have been deceived in our hopes."
+Pierre Simon first looked at Adrienne without answering, as if he had
+not heard or understood.--"But console yourself," resumed the young
+girl; "we have yet no reason to despair."
+
+"To despair?" repeated the marshaling by turns at Mdlle. de Cardoville
+despair?--"of what, in heaven's name?"
+
+"Of seeing your children, marshal," said Adrienne; "the presence of
+their father will facilitate the search."
+
+"The search!" cried Pierre Simon. "Then, my daughters are not here?"
+
+"No, sir," said Adrienne, at length; "they have been taken from the
+affectionate care of the excellent man who brought them from Russia, to
+be removed to a convent."
+
+"Wretch!" cried Pierre Simon, advancing towards Dagobert, with a
+menacing and terrible aspect; "you shall answer to me for all!"
+
+"Oh, sir, do not blame him!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"General," said Dagobert, in a tone of mournful resignation, "I merit
+your anger. It is my fault. Forced to absent myself from Paris, I
+entrusted the children to my wife; her confessor turned her head, and
+persuaded her that your daughters would be better in a convent than at
+our house. She believed him, and let them be conveyed there. Now they
+say at the convent, that they do not know where they are. This is the
+truth: do what you will with me; I have only to silently endure."
+
+"This is infamous!" cried Pierre Simon, pointing to Dagobert, with a
+gesture of despairing indignation. "In whom can a man confide, if he has
+deceived me? Oh, my God!"
+
+"Stay, marshal! do not blame him," repeated Mdlle. de Cardoville; "do
+not think so! He has risked life and honor to rescue your children from
+the convent. He is not the only one who has failed in this attempt. Just
+now, a magistrate--despite his character and authority--was not more
+successful. His firmness towards the superior, his minute search of the
+convent, were all in vain. Up to this time it has been impossible to
+find these unfortunate children."
+
+"But where's this convent!" cried Marshal Simon, raising his head, his
+face all pale and agitated with grief and rage. "Where is it? Do these
+vermin know what a father is, deprived of his children?" At the moment
+when Marshal Simon, turning towards Dagobert, pronounced these words,
+Rodin, holding Rose and Blanche by the hand, appeared at the open door
+of the chamber. On hearing the marshal's exclamation, he started with
+surprise, and a flash of diabolical joy lit up his grim countenance--for
+he had not expected to meet Pierre Simon so opportunely.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was the first to perceive the presence of Rodin.
+She exclaimed, as she hastened towards him: "Oh! I was not deceived. He
+is still our providence."
+
+"My poor children!" said Rodin, in a low voice, to the young girls, as
+he pointed to Pierre Simon, "this is your father!"
+
+"Sir!" cried Adrienne, following close upon Rose and Blanche. "Your
+children are here!"
+
+As Simon turned round abruptly, his two daughters threw themselves into
+his arms. Here was a long silence, broken only by sobs, and kisses, and
+exclamations of joy.
+
+"Come forward, at least, and enjoy the good you have done!" said Mdlle.
+de Cardoville, drying her eyes, and turning towards Rodin, who, leaning
+against the door, seemed to contemplate this scene with deep emotion.
+
+Dagobert, at sight of Rodin bringing back the children, was at first
+struck with stupor, and unable to move a step; but hearing the words of
+Adrienne, and yielding to a burst of almost insane gratitude, he threw
+himself on his knees before the Jesuit, joined his hands together, and
+exclaimed in a broken voice: "You have saved me, by bringing back these
+children."
+
+"Oh, bless you, sir!" said Mother Bunch, yielding to the general
+current.
+
+"My good friends, this is too much," said Rodin, as if his emotions were
+beyond his strength; "this is really too much for me. Excuse me to the
+marshal, and tell him that I am repaid by the sight of his happiness."
+
+"Pray, sir," said Adrienne, "let the marshal at least have the
+opportunity to see and know you."
+
+"Oh, remain! you that have saved us all!" cried Dagobert, trying to stop
+Rodin.
+
+"Providence, you know, my dear young lady, does not trouble itself about
+the good that is done, but the good that remains to do," said Rodin,
+with an accent of playful kindness. "Must I not think of Prince Djalma?
+My task is not finished, and moments are precious. Come," he added,
+disengaging himself gently from Dagobert's hold, "come the day has been
+as good a one as I had hoped.. The Abbe d'Aigrigny is unmasked; you
+are free, my dear young lady; you have recovered your cross, my brave
+soldier; Mother Bunch is sure of a protectress; the marshal has found
+his children. I have my share in all these joys, it is a full share--my
+heart is satisfied. Adieu, my friends, till we meet again." So saying,
+Rodin waved his hand affectionately to Adrienne, Dagobert, and the
+hunchback, and withdrew, waving his hand with a look of delight on
+Marshal Simon, who, seated between his daughters, held them in his arms,
+and covered them with tears and kisses, remaining quite indifferent to
+all that was passing around him.
+
+An hour after this scene, Mdlle. de Cardoville and the sempstress,
+Marshal Simon, his two daughters and Dagobert quitted Dr. Beleinier's
+asylum.
+
+In terminating this episode, a few words by way of moral, with regard to
+lunatic asylums and convents may not be out of place. We have said, and
+we repeat, that the laws which apply to the superintendence of lunatic
+asylums appear to us insufficient. Facts that have recently transpired
+before the courts, and other facts that have been privately communicated
+to us, evidently prove this insufficiency. Doubtless, magistrates have
+full power to visit lunatic asylums. They are even required to make
+such visits. But we know, from the best authority, that the numerous
+and pressing occupations of magistrates, whose number is often out of
+proportion with the labor imposed upon them, render these inspections so
+rare, that they are, so to speak, illusory. It appears, therefore, to us
+advisable to institute a system of inspections, at least twice a month,
+especially designed for lunatic asylums, and entrusted to a physician
+and a magistrate, so that every complaint may be submitted to a double
+examination. Doubtless, the law is sufficient when its ministers are
+fully informed; but how many formalities, how many difficulties must be
+gone through, before they can be so, particularly when the unfortunate
+creature who needs their assistance, already suspected, isolated, and
+imprisoned, has no friend to come forward in defence, and demand, in his
+or her name, the protection of the authorities! Is it not imperative,
+therefore, on the civil power, to meet these necessities by a periodical
+and well-organized system of inspection?
+
+What we here say of lunatic asylums will apply with still greater force
+to convents for women, seminaries, and houses inhabited by religious
+bodies. Recent and notorious facts, with which all France has rung,
+have, unfortunately, proved that violence, forcible detention, barbarous
+usage, abduction of minors, and illegal imprisonment, accompanied by
+torture, are occurrences which, if not frequent, are at least possible
+in religious houses. It required singular accidents, audacious and
+cynical brutalities; to bring these detestable actions to public
+knowledge. How many other victims have been, and, perhaps still are,
+entombed in those large silent mansions, where no profane look may
+penetrate, and which, through the privileges of the clergy, escape the
+superintendence of the civil power. Is it not deplorable that these
+dwellings should not also be subject to periodical inspection, by
+visitors consisting, if it be desired, of a priest, a magistrate, and
+some delegate of the municipal authorities? If nothing takes place, but
+what is legal, human, and charitable, in these establishments, which
+have all the character, and incur all the responsibility, of public
+institutions, why this resistance, this furious indignation of the
+church party, when any mention is made of touching what they call their
+privileges? There is something higher than the constitutions devised
+at Rome. We mean the Law of France--the common law--which grants to all
+protection, but which, in return, exacts from all respect and obedience.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VII.
+
+     XL. The East Indian in Paris XLI. Rising XLII. Doubts XLIII.
+     The Letter XLIV. Adrienne and Djalma XLV. The Consultation
+     XLVI. Mother Bunch's Diary XLVII. The Diary Continued
+     XLVIII. The Discovery XLIX. The Trysting-Place of the Wolves
+     L. The Common Dwelling-House LI. The Secret LII. Revelations
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. THE EAST INDIAN IN PARIS.
+
+Since three days, Mdlle. de Cardoville had left Dr. Baleinier's. The
+following scene took place in a little dwelling in the Rue Blanche, to
+which Djalma had been conducted in the name of his unknown protector.
+Fancy to yourself a pretty, circular apartment, hung with Indian
+drapery, with purple figures on a gray ground, just relieved by a
+few threads of gold. The ceiling, towards the centre, is concealed by
+similar hangings, tied together by a thick, silken cord; the two ends
+of this cord, unequal in length, terminated, instead of tassels, in two
+tiny Indian lamps of gold filigreed-work, marvellously finished. By one
+of those ingenious combinations, so common in barbarous countries,
+these lamps served also to burn perfumes. Plates of blue crystal, let
+in between the openings of the arabesque, and illumined by the interior
+light, shone with so limpid an azure, that the golden lamps seemed
+starred with transparent sapphires. Light clouds, of whitish vapor rose
+incessantly from these lamps, and spread all around their balmy odor.
+
+Daylight was only admitted to this room (it was about two o'clock in the
+afternoon) through a little greenhouse, on the other side of a door of
+plate-glass, made to slide into the thickness of the wall, by means of a
+groove. A Chinese shade was arranged so as to hide or replace this
+glass at pleasure. Some dwarf palm tress, plantains, and other Indian
+productions, with thick leaves of a metallic green, arranged in clusters
+in this conservatory, formed, as it were, the background to two large
+variegated bushes of exotic flowers, which were separated by a narrow
+path, paved with yellow and blue Japanese tiles, running to the foot of
+the glass. The daylight, already much dimmed by the leaves through which
+it passed, took a hue of singular mildness as it mingled with the azure
+lustre of the perfumed lamps, and the crimson brightness of the fire
+in the tall chimney of oriental porphyry. In the obscurity of this
+apartment, impregnated with sweet odors and the aromatic vapor of
+Persian tobacco, a man with brown, hanging locks, dressed in a long robe
+of dark green, fastened round the waist by a parti-colored sash, was
+kneeling upon a magnificent Turkey carpet, filling the golden bowl of
+a hookah; the long, flexible tube of this pipe, after rolling its folds
+upon the carpet, like a scarlet serpent with silver scales, rested
+between the slender fingers of Djalma, who was reclining negligently on
+a divan. The young prince was bareheaded; his jet-black hair, parted on
+the middle of his forehead, streamed waving about his face and neck of
+antique beauty--their warm transparent colors resembling amber or topaz.
+Leaning his elbow on a cushion, he supported his chin with the palm of
+his right hand. The flowing sleeve of his robe, falling back from his
+arm, which was round as that of a woman, revealed mysterious signs
+formerly tattooed there in India by a Thug's needle. The son of
+Radja-sing held in his left hand the amber mouthpiece of his pipe. His
+robe of magnificent cashmere, with a border of a thousand hues, reaching
+to his knee, was fastened about his slim and well-formed figure by the
+large folds of an orange-colored shawl. This robe was half withdrawn
+from one of the elegant legs of this Asiatic Antinous, clad in a kind
+of very close fitting gaiter of crimson velvet, embroidered with silver,
+and terminating in a small white morocco slipper, with a scarlet heel.
+At once mild and manly, the countenance of Djalma was expressive of that
+melancholy and contemplative calmness habitual to the Indian and the
+Arab, who possess the happy privilege of uniting, by a rare combination,
+the meditative indolence of the dreamer with the fiery energy of the
+man of action--now delicate, nervous, impressionable as women--now
+determined, ferocious, and sanguinary as bandits.
+
+And this semi-feminine comparison, applicable to the moral nature of the
+Arab and the Indian, so long as they are not carried away by the ardor
+of battle and the excitement of carnage, is almost equally applicable to
+their physical constitution; for if, like women of good blood, they have
+small extremities, slender limbs, fine and supple forms, this delicate
+and often charming exterior always covers muscles of steel, full of an
+elasticity, and vigor truly masculine. Djalma's oblong eyes, like black
+diamonds set in bluish mother-of-pearl, wandered mechanically from the
+exotic flowers to the ceiling; from time to time he raised the amber
+mouthpiece of the hookah to his lips; then, after a slow aspiration,
+half opening his rosy lips, strongly contrasted with the shining enamel
+of his teeth, he sent forth a little spiral line of smoke, freshly
+scented by the rose-water through which it had passed.
+
+"Shall I put more tobacco in the hookah?" said the kneeling figure,
+turning towards Djalma, and revealing the marked and sinister features
+of Faringhea the Strangler.
+
+The young prince remained dumb, either that, from an oriental contempt
+for certain races, he disdained to answer the half-caste, or that,
+absorbed in his reverie, he did not even hear him. The Strangler became
+again silent; crouching cross-legged upon the carpet, with his elbows
+resting on his knees, and his chin upon his hands, he kept his eyes
+fixed on Djalma, and seemed to await the reply or the orders of him
+whose sire had been surnamed the Father of the Generous. How had
+Faringhea, the sanguinary worshipper of Bowanee, the Divinity of Murder,
+been brought to seek or to accept such humble functions? How came this
+man, possessed of no vulgar talents, whose passionate eloquence and
+ferocious energy had recruited many assassins for the service of the
+Good Work, to resign himself to so base a condition? Why, too, had
+this man, who, profiting by the young prince's blindness with regard
+to himself, might have so easily sacrificed him as an offering to
+Bowanee--why had he spared the life of Radja-sings son? Why, in fine,
+did he expose himself to such frequent encounters with Rodin, whom he
+had only known under the most unfavorable auspices? The sequel of this
+story will answer all these questions. We can only say at present,
+that, after a long interview with Rodin, two nights before, the Thug had
+quitted him with downcast eyes and cautious bearing.
+
+After having remained silent for some time, Djalma, following with his
+eye the cloud of whitish smoke that he had just sent forth into space,
+addressed Faringhea, without looking at him, and said to him in the
+language, as hyperbolical as concise, of Orientals: "Time passes. The
+old man with the good heart does not come. But he will come. His word is
+his word."
+
+"His word is his word, my lord," repeated Faringhea, in an affirmative
+tone. "When he came to fetch you, three days ago, from the house whither
+those wretches, in furtherance of their wicked designs, had conveyed you
+in a deep sleep--after throwing me, your watchful and devoted servant,
+into a similar state--he said to you: 'The unknown friend, who sent for
+you to Cardoville Castle, bids me come to you, prince. Have confidence,
+and follow me. A worthy abode is prepared for you.'--And again, he said
+to you, my lord: 'Consent not to leave the house, until my return. Your
+interest requires it. In three days you will see me again, and then be
+restored to perfect freedom.' You consented to those terms, my lord, and
+for three days you have not left the house."
+
+"And I wait for the old man with impatience," said Djalma, "for this
+solitude is heavy with me. There must be so many things to admire in
+Paris. Above all."
+
+Djalma did not finish the sentence, but relapsed into a reverie. After
+some moments' silence, the son of Radja-sing said suddenly to Faringhea,
+in the tone of an impatient yet indolent sultan: "Speak to me!"
+
+"Of what shall I speak, my lord?"
+
+"Of what you will," said Djalma, with careless contempt, as he fixed
+on the ceiling his eyes, half-veiled with languor. "One thought pursues
+me--I wish to be diverted from it. Speak to me."
+
+Faringhea threw a piercing glance on the countenance of the young
+Indian, and saw that his cheeks were colored with a slight blush. "My
+lord," said the half-caste, "I can guess your thought."
+
+Djalma shook his head, without looking at the Strangler. The latter
+resumed: "You are thinking of the women of Paris, my lord."
+
+"Be silent, slave!" said Djalma, turning abruptly on the sofa, as if
+some painful wound had been touched to the quick. Faringhea obeyed.
+
+After the lapse of some moments. Djalma broke forth again with
+impatience, throwing aside the tube of the hookah, and veiling both
+eyes with his hands: "Your words are better than silence. Cursed be my
+thoughts, and the spirit which calls up these phantoms!"
+
+"Why should you fly these thoughts, my lord? You are nineteen years of
+age, and hitherto all your youth has been spent in war and captivity.
+Up to this time, you have remained as chaste as Gabriel, that young
+Christian priest, who accompanied us on our voyage."
+
+Though Faringhea did not at all depart from his respectful deference
+for the prince, the latter felt that there was something of irony in the
+tone of the half-caste, as he pronounced the word "chaste."
+
+Djalma said to him with a mixture of pride and severity: "I do not wish
+to pass for a barbarian, as they call us, with these civilized people;
+therefore I glory in my chastity."
+
+"I do not understand, my lord."
+
+"I may perhaps love some woman, pure as was my mother when she married
+my father; and to ask for purity from a woman, a man must be chaste as
+she."
+
+At this, Faringhea could not refrain from a sardonic smile.
+
+"Why do you laugh, slave?" said the young prince, imperiously.
+
+"Among civilized people, as you call them, my lord, the man who married
+in the flower of his innocence would be mortally wounded with ridicule."
+
+"It is false, slave! He would only be ridiculous if he married one that
+was not pure as himself."
+
+"Then, my lord, he would not only be wounded--he would be killed
+outright, for he would be doubly and unmercifully laughed at."
+
+"It is false! it is false. Where did you learn all this?"
+
+"I have seen Parisian women at the Isle of France, and at Pondicherry,
+my lord. Moreover, I learned a good deal during our voyage; I talked
+with a young officer, while you conversed with the young priest."
+
+"So, like the sultans of our harems, civilized men require of women the
+innocence they have themselves lost."
+
+"They require it the more, the less they have of it, my lord."
+
+"To require without any return, is to act as a master to his slave; by
+what right?"
+
+"By the right of the strongest--as it is among us, my lord."
+
+"And what do the women do?"
+
+"They prevent the men from being too ridiculous, when they marry, in the
+eyes of the world."
+
+"But they kill a woman that is false?" said Djalma, raising himself
+abruptly, and fixing upon Faringhea a savage look, that sparkled with
+lurid fire.
+
+"They kill her, my lord, as with us--when they find her out."
+
+"Despots like ourselves! Why then do these civilized men not shut up
+their women, to force them to a fidelity which they do not practise?"
+
+"Because their civilization is barbarous, and their barbarism civilized,
+my lord."
+
+"All this is sad enough, if true," observed Djalma, with a pensive air,
+adding, with a species of enthusiasm, employing, as usual, the mystic
+and figurative language familiar to the people of his country; "yes,
+your talk afflicts me, slave--for two drops of dew blending in the cup
+of a flower are as hearts that mingle in a pure and virgin love; and two
+rays of light united in one inextinguishable flame, are as the burning
+and eternal joys of lovers joined in wedlock."
+
+Djalma spoke of the pure enjoyments of the soul with inexpressible
+grace, yet it was when he painted less ideal happiness, that his eyes
+shone like stars; he shuddered slightly, his nostrils swelled, the pale
+gold of his complexion became vermilion, and the young prince sank into
+a deep reverie.
+
+Faringhea, having remarked this emotion, thus spoke: "If, like the proud
+and brilliant king-bird of our woods, you prefer numerous and varied
+pleasures to solitary and monotonous amours--handsome, young, rich
+as you are, my lord, were you to seek out the seductive
+Parisians--voluptuous phantoms of your nights--charming tormentors
+of your dreams--were you to cast upon them looks bold as a challenge,
+supplicating as prayers, ardent as desires--do you not think that many
+a half-veiled eye would borrow fire from your glance? Then it would no
+longer be the monotonous delights of a single love, the heavy chain of
+our life--no, it would be the thousand pleasures of the harem--a harem
+peopled with free and proud beauties, whom happy love would make your
+slaves. So long constrained, there is no such thing as excess to you.
+Believe me, it would then be you, the ardent, the magnificent son of our
+country, that would become the love and pride of these women--the most
+seductive in the world, who would soon have for you no looks but those
+of languor and passion."
+
+Djalma had listened to Faringhea with silent eagerness. The expression
+of his features had completely changed; it was no longer the melancholy
+and dreaming youth, invoking the sacred remembrance of his mother,
+and finding only in the dew of heaven, in the calyx of flowers, images
+sufficiently pure to paint the chastity of the love he dreamed of; it
+was no longer even the young man, blushing with a modest ardor at the
+thought of the permitted joys of a legitimate union. No! the incitements
+of Faringhea had kindled a subterraneous fire; the inflamed countenance
+of Djalma, his eyes now sparkling and now veiled, his manly and sonorous
+respiration, announced the heat of his blood, the boiling up of
+the passions, only the more energetic, that they had been hitherto
+restrained.
+
+So, springing suddenly from the divan, supple, vigorous, and light as
+a young tiger, Djalma clutched Faringhea by the throat exclaiming: "Thy
+words are burning poison!"
+
+"My lord," said Faringhea, without opposing the least resistance, "your
+slave is your slave." This submission disarmed the prince.
+
+"My life belongs to you," repeated the half-caste.
+
+"I belong to you, slave!" cried Djalma, repulsing him. "Just now, I hung
+upon your lips, devouring your dangerous lies."
+
+"Lies, my lord? Only appear before these women, and their looks will
+confirm my words."
+
+"These women love me!--me, who have only lived in war and in the woods?"
+
+"The thought that you, so young, have already waged bloody war on men
+and tigers, will make them adore, my lord."
+
+"You lie!"
+
+"I tell you, my lord, on seeing your hand, as delicate as theirs, but
+which has been so often bathed in hostile blood, they will wish to
+caress it; and they will kiss it again, when they think that, in our
+forests, with loaded rifle, and a poniard between your teeth, you smiled
+at the roaring of a lion or panther for whom you lay in wait."
+
+"But I am a savage--a barbarian."
+
+"And for that very reason you will have them at your feet. They will
+feel themselves both terrified and charmed by all the violence and fury,
+the rage of jealousy, the passion and the love, to which a man of your
+blood, your youth, your ardor must be subject. To-day mild and tender,
+to-morrow fierce and suspicious, another time ardent and passionate,
+such you will be--and such you ought to be, if you wish to win them.
+Yes; let a kiss of rage be heard between two kisses: let a dagger
+glitter in the midst of caresses, and they will fall before you,
+palpitating with pleasure, love, and fear--and you will be to them, not
+a man, but a god."
+
+"Dost think so?" cried Djalma, carried away in spite of himself by the
+Thug's wild eloquence.
+
+"You know, you feel, that I speak the truth," cried the latter,
+extending his arm towards the young Indian.
+
+"Why, yes!" exclaimed Djalma, his eyes sparkling, his nostrils swelling,
+as he moved about the apartment with savage bounds. "I know not if I
+possess my reason, or if I am intoxicated, but it seems to me that you
+speak truth. Yes, I feel that they will love me with madness and fury,
+because my love will be mad and furious they will tremble with pleasure
+and fear, because the very thought of it makes me tremble with delight
+and terror. Slave, it is true; there is something exciting and fearful
+in such a love!" As he spoke forth these words, Djalma was superb in his
+impetuous sensuality. It is a rare thing to see a young man arrive
+in his native purity, at the age in which are developed, in all their
+powerful energy, those admirable instincts of love, which God has
+implanted in the heart of his creatures, and which, repressed,
+disguised, or perverted, may unseat the reason, or generate mad excesses
+and frightful crimes--but which, directed towards a great and noble
+passion, may and must, by their very violence, elevate man, through
+devotion and tenderness, to the limits of the ideal.
+
+"Oh! this woman--this woman, before whom I am to tremble--and who,
+in turn, must tremble before me--where is she?" cried Djalma, with
+redoubled excitement. "Shall I ever find her?"
+
+"One is a good deal, my lord," replied Faringhea, with his sardonic
+coolness; "he who looks for one woman, will rarely succeed in this
+country; he who seeks women, is only at a loss to choose."
+
+As the half-caste made this impertinent answer to Djalma, a very elegant
+blue-and-white carriage stopped before the garden-gate of the house,
+which opened upon a deserted street. It was drawn by a pair of beautiful
+blood-horses, of a cream color, with black manes and tails. The
+scutcheons on the harness were of silver, as were also the buttons of
+the servants' livery, which was blue with white collars. On the blue
+hammercloth, also laced with white, as well as on the panels of the
+doors, were lozenge-shaped coats of arms, without crest or coronet, as
+usually borne by unmarried daughters of noble families. Two women were
+in this carriage--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. RISING.
+
+To explain the arrival of Mdlle. de Cardoville at the garden-door of
+the house occupied by Djalma, we must cast a retrospective glance at
+previous events. On leaving Doctor Baleinier's, Mdlle. de Cardoville had
+gone to take up her residence in the Rue d'Anjou. During the last few
+months of her stay with her aunt, Adrienne had secretly caused this
+handsome dwelling to be repaired and furnished, and its luxury
+and elegance were now increased by all the wonders of the lodge of
+Saint-Dizier House. The world found it very strange, that a lady of the
+age and condition of Mdlle. de Cardoville should take the resolution of
+living completely alone and free, and, in fact, of keeping house exactly
+like a bachelor, a young widow, or an emancipated minor. The world
+pretended not to know that Mdlle. de Cardoville possessed what is often
+wanting in men, whether of age or twice of age--a firm character, a
+lofty mind, a generous heart, strong and vigorous good sense.
+
+Judging that she would require faithful assistance in the internal
+management of her house, Adrienne had written to the bailiff of
+Cardoville, and his wife, old family servants, to come immediately to
+Paris: M. Dupont thus filled the office of steward, and Mme. Dupont
+that of housekeeper. An old friend of Adrienne's father, the Count de
+Montbron, an accomplished old man, once very much in fashion, and still
+a connoisseur in all sorts of elegances, had advised Adrienne to act
+like a princess, and take an equerry; recommended for this office a man
+of good rearing and ripe age, who, himself an amateur in horses, had
+been ruined in England, at Newmarket, the Derby, and Tattersall's, and
+reduced, as sometimes happened to gentlemen in that country, to drive
+the stage coaches, thus finding an honest method of earning his bread,
+and at the same time gratifying his taste for horses. Such was M. de
+Bonneville, M. de Montbron's choice. Both from age and habits, this
+equerry could accompany Mdlle. de Cardoville on horseback, and better
+than any one else, superintend the stable. He accepted, therefore, the
+employment with gratitude, and, thanks to his skill and attention, the
+equipages of Mdlle. de Cardoville were not eclipsed in style by anything
+of the kind in Paris. Mdlle. de Cardoville had taken back her women,
+Hebe, Georgette, and Florine. The latter was at first to have re-entered
+the service of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, to continue her part of spy
+for the superior of St. Mary's Convent; but, in consequence of the new
+direction given by Rodin to the Rennepont affair, it was decided
+that Florine, if possible, should return to the service of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. This confidential place, enabling this unfortunate creature
+to render important and mysterious services to the people who held her
+fate in their hands, forced her to infamous treachery. Unfortunately,
+all things favored this machination. We know that Florine, in her
+interview with Mother Bunch, a few days after Mdlle. de Cardoville was
+imprisoned at Dr. Baleinier's, had yielded to a twinge of remorse,
+and given to the sempstress advice likely to be of use to Adrienne's
+interests--sending word to Agricola not to deliver to Madame de Saint
+Dizier the papers found in the hiding-place of the pavilion, but only
+to entrust them to Mdlle. de Cardoville herself. The latter, afterwards
+informed of these details by Mother Bunch, felt a double degree of
+confidence and interest in Florine, took her back into her service
+with gratitude, and almost immediately charged her with a confidential
+mission--that of superintending the arrangements of the house hired for
+Djalma's habitation. As for Mother Bunch (yielding to the solicitations
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and finding she was no longer of use to
+Dagobert's wife, of whom we shall speak hereafter), she had consented to
+take up her abode in the hotel on the Rue d'Anjou, along with Adrienne,
+who with that rare sagacity of the heart peculiar to her, entrusted
+the young sempstress, who served her also as a secretary, with the
+department of alms-giving.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had at first thought of entertaining her merely
+as a friend, wishing to pay homage in her person to probity with labor,
+resignation in sorrow, and intelligence in poverty; but knowing
+the workgirl's natural dignity, she feared, with reason that,
+notwithstanding the delicate circumspection with which the hospitality
+would be offered, Mother Bunch might perceive in it alms in disguise.
+Adrienne preferred, therefore, whilst she treated her as a friend, to
+give her a confidential employment. In this manner the great delicacy of
+the needlewoman would be spared, since she could earn her livelihood by
+performing duties which would at the same time satisfy her praiseworthy
+instincts of charity. In fact, she could fulfil, better than any one,
+the sacred mission confided to her by Adrienne. Her cruel experience in
+misfortune, the goodness of her angelic soul, the elevation of her mind,
+her rare activity, her penetration with regard to the painful secrets
+of poverty, her perfect knowledge of the industrial classes, were
+sufficient security for the tact and intelligence with which the
+excellent creature would second the generous intentions of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville.
+
+Let us now speak of the divers events which, on that day, preceded the
+coming of Mdlle. de Cardoville to the garden-gate of the house in the
+Rue Blanche. About ten o'clock in the morning, the blinds of Adrienne's
+bedchamber, closely shut, admitted no ray of daylight to this apartment,
+which was only lighted by a spherical lamp of oriental alabaster,
+suspended from the ceiling by three long silver chains. This apartment,
+terminating in a dome, was in the form of a tent with eight sides. From
+the ceiling to the floor, it was hung with white silk, covered with
+long draperies of muslin, fastened in large puffs to the wall, by bands
+caught in at regular distances by plates of ivory. Two doors, also
+of ivory, admirably encrusted with mother-of-pearl, led, one to the
+bath-room, the other to the toilet-chamber, a sort of little temple
+dedicated to the worship of beauty, and furnished as it had been at the
+pavilion of Saint Dizier House. Two other compartments of the wall were
+occupied by windows, completely veiled with drapery. Opposite the bed,
+enclosing splendid fire-dogs of chased silver, was a chimney-piece
+of white marble, like crystallized snow, on which were sculptured two
+magnificent caryatides, and a frieze representing birds and flowers.
+Above this frieze, carved in openwork with extreme delicacy, was a
+marble basket, filled with red camellias. Their leaves of shining
+green their flowers of a delicate rosy hue, were the only colors that
+disturbed the harmonious whiteness of this virgin retreat. Finally, half
+surrounded by waves of white muslin, which poured down from the dome
+like a mass of light clouds, the bed was visible--very low, and resting
+on feet of carved ivory, which stood upon the ermine carpet that covered
+the floor. With the exception of a plinth, also in ivory, admirably
+inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the bed was entirely covered with white
+satin, wadded and quilted like an immense scent-bag. The cambric sheets,
+trimmed with lace, being a little disturbed on one side, discovered the
+corner of a white taffety mattress, and a light counterpane of watered
+stuff--for an equal temperature always reigned in this apartment, warm
+as a fine spring day.
+
+From a singular scruple, arising from the same sentiment which had
+caused Adrienne to have inscribed on a masterpiece of goldsmith's work
+the name of the maker instead of that of the seller, she had wished all
+these articles, so costly and sumptuous, to be manufactured by workmen
+chosen amongst the most intelligent, honest, and industrious of their
+class, whom she had supplied with the necessary materials. In this
+manner she had been able to add to the price of the work the profit
+usually gained by the middle man, who speculates in such labor; this
+notable augmentation of wages had spread happiness and comfort through a
+hundred necessitous families, who, blessing the munificence of Adrienne,
+gave her, as she said, the right to enjoy her luxury as a good action.
+Nothing could be fresher or more charming than the interior of this
+bedchamber. Mdlle. de Cardoville had just awoke; she reposed in the
+middle of this flood of muslin, lace, cambric, and white silk, in a
+position full of sweet grace. Never during the night did she cover that
+beautiful golden hair (a certain recipe, said the Greeks, for preserving
+it for a long while in magnificence). Every evening, her women arranged
+her long silky curls in flat tresses, forming two broad bands, which,
+descending sufficiently low almost entirely to conceal the small ear,
+the rosy lobe of which was alone visible, were joined to the large plait
+behind the head.
+
+This head-dress, borrowed from Greek antiquity, set off to admiration
+the pure, fine features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and made her look so
+much younger, that, instead of eighteen, one would hardly have given her
+fifteen years of age. Gathered thus closely about the temples, the hair
+lost its transparent and brilliant hues, and would have appeared almost
+brown, but for the golden tints which played here and there, amid the
+undulations of the tresses. Lulled in that morning torpor, the warm
+languor of which is so favorable to soft reveries, Adrienne leaned
+with her elbow on the pillow, and her head a little on one side,
+which displayed to advantage the ideal contour of her bared neck and
+shoulders; her smiling lips, moist and rosy, were, like her cheeks, cold
+as if they had just been bathed in ice-water; her snow-white lids
+half veiled the large, dark, soft eyes, which now gazed languidly upon
+vacancy, and now fixed themselves with pleasure upon the rosy flowers
+and green leaves in the basket of camellias. Who can paint the matchless
+serenity of Adrienne's awaking--when the fair and chaste soul roused
+itself in the fair and chaste body? It was the awakening of a heart as
+pure as the fresh and balmy breath of youth, that made her bosom rise
+and fall in its white, immaculate purity. What creed, what dogma, what
+formula, what religious symbol, oh! paternal and divine Creator! can
+ever give a more complete idea of Thy harmonious and ineffable power,
+than the image of a young maiden awaking in the bloom of her beauty,
+and in all the grace of that modesty with which Thou hast endowed her,
+seeking, in her dreamy innocence, for the secret of that celestial
+instinct of love, which Thou hast placed in the bosom of all Thy
+creatures--oh! Thou whose love is eternal, and goodness infinite!
+
+The confused thoughts which, since her sleep, had appeared gently to
+agitate Adrienne, absorbed her more and more; her head resting on her
+bosom, her beautiful arm upon the couch, her features without becoming
+precisely sad, assumed an expression of touching melancholy. Her dearest
+desire was accomplished; she was about to live independent and alone.
+But this affectionate, delicate, expansive, and marvellously complete
+nature, felt that God had not given her such rare treasures, to bury
+them in a cold and selfish solitude. She felt how much that was great
+and beautiful might be inspired by love, both in herself, and in
+him that should be worthy of her. Confiding in her courage, and the
+nobleness of her character, proud of the example that she wished to give
+to other women, knowing that all eyes would be fixed enviously upon her,
+she felt, as it were, only too sure of herself; far from fearing that
+she should make a bad choice, she rather feared, that she should not
+find any from whom to choose, so pure and perfect was her taste. And,
+even had she met with her own ideal, she had views so singular and
+so just, so extraordinary and yet so sensible, with regard to the
+independence and dignity of woman, that, inexorably determined to make
+no concession upon this head, she asked herself if the man of her choice
+would ever accept the hitherto unheard-of conditions that she meant to
+impose. In recalling to her remembrance the possible suitors that she
+had met in the world, she remembered also the dark, but true picture,
+which Rodin had drawn with so much caustic bitterness. She remembered,
+too, not without a certain pride, the encouragement this man had given
+her, not by flattery, but by advising her to follow out and accomplish
+a great, generous, and beautiful design. The current or the caprice of
+fancy soon brought Adrienne to think of Djalma. Whilst she congratulated
+herself on having paid to her royal kinsman the duties of a kingly
+hospitality, the young lady was far from regarding the prince as the
+hero of her future.
+
+And first she said to herself, not unreasonably, that this half-savage
+boy, with passions, if not untamable, yet untamed, transported on a
+sudden into the midst of a refined civilization, would be inevitably
+destined to fiery trials and violent transformations. Now Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, having nothing masculine or despotic in her character, had
+no wish to civilize the young savage. Therefore, notwithstanding the
+interest, or rather because of the interest, which she felt for the
+young Indian, she was firmly resolved, not to make herself known to him,
+till after the lapse of two or three months; and she determined also,
+that, even if Djalma should learn by chance that she was his relation,
+she would not receive his visit. She desired, if not to try him, at
+least to leave him free in all his acts, so that he might expend the
+first fire of his passions, good or bad. But not wishing to abandon him
+quite without defence to the perils of Parisian life, she requested the
+Count de Montbron, in confidence, to introduce Prince Djalma to the
+best company in Paris, and to enlighten him by the counsels of his
+long experience. M. de Montbron had received the request of Mdlle.
+de Cardoville with the greatest pleasure, taking delight, he said, in
+starting his royal tiger in drawing-rooms, and bringing him into contact
+with the flower of the fine ladies and gentlemen of Paris, offering at
+the same time to wager any amount in favor of his half-savage pupil.
+
+"As for myself, my dear Count," said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with
+her usual frankness, "my resolution is not to be shaken. You have told
+me the effect that will be produced in the fashionable world, by the
+first appearance of Prince Djalma, an Indian nineteen years of age,
+of surprising beauty, proud and wild as a young lion arriving from his
+forest; it is new, it is extraordinary, you added; and, therefore, all
+the coquetries of civilized life will pursue him with an eagerness which
+makes me tremble for him. Now, seriously, my dear count it will not
+suit me to appear as the rival of so many fine ladies, who are about
+to expose themselves intrepidly to the claws of the young tiger. I take
+great interest in him, because he is my cousin, because he is handsome,
+because he is brave, and above all because he does not wear that
+horrible European dress. No doubt these are rare qualities--but not
+sufficient to make me change my mind. Besides, the good old philosopher,
+my new friend, has given me advice about this Indian, which you, my
+dear Count, who are not a philosopher, will yet approve. It is, for some
+time, to receive visits at home, but not to visit other people--which
+will spare me the awkwardness of meeting my royal cousin, and allow me
+to make a careful choice, even amongst my usual society. As my house
+will be an excellent one, my position most unusual, and as I shall be
+suspected of all sorts of naughty secrets, I shall be in no want of
+inquisitive visitors, who will amuse me a good deal, I assure you."
+
+And as M. de Montbron asked, if the exile of the poor young Indian
+tiger was to last long, Adrienne answered: "As I shall see most of the
+persons, to whom you will introduce him, I shall be pleased to hear
+different opinions about him. If certain men speak well of him, and
+certain women ill, I shall have good hope of him. In a word, the opinion
+that I come to, in sifting the true from the false (you may leave that
+to my sagacity), will shorten or prolong the exile of my royal cousin."
+
+Such were the formal intentions of Mdlle. de Cardoville with regard to
+Djalma, even on the day she went with Florine to the house he occupied.
+In a word, she had positively resolved not to be known to him for some
+months to come.
+
+After long reflecting that morning, on the chances that might yet offer
+themselves to satisfy the wants of her heart, Adrienne fell into a new,
+deep reverie. This charming creature, so full of life and youth, heaved
+a low sigh, raised her arms above her head, turned her profile
+towards the pillow, and remained for some moments as if powerless and
+vanquished. Motionless beneath the white tissues that wrapped her round,
+she looked like a fair, marble statue, visible beneath a light layer
+of snow. Suddenly, Adrienne raised herself up, drew her hand across her
+brow, and rang for her women. At the first silver tone of the bell,
+the two ivory doors opened. Georgette appeared on the threshold of the
+dressing-room, from which Frisky, a little black and-tan dog, with his
+golden collar, escaped with a joyful barking. Hebe appeared at the
+same time on the threshold of the bath-room. At the further end of this
+apartment, lighted from above, might be seen upon a green mat of Spanish
+leather, with golden ornaments, a crystal bath in the form of a long
+shell. The three only divisions in this masterpiece of glass work, were
+concealed by the elegant device of several large reeds in silver,
+which rose from the wide base of the bath, also of wrought silver,
+representing children and dolphins playing, among branches of natural
+coral, and azure shells. Nothing could be more pleasing than the effect
+of these purple reeds and ultramarine shells, upon a dull ground of
+silver; the balsamic vapor, which rose from the warm, limpid, and
+perfumed water, that filled the crystal shell, spread through the
+bath-room, and floated like a light cloud into the sleeping-chamber.
+
+Seeing Hebe in her fresh and pretty costume, bringing her a long bathing
+gown, hanging upon a bare and dimpled arm, Adrienne said to her: "Where
+is Florine, my child?"
+
+"Madame, she went downstairs two hours ago; she was wanted for something
+very pressing."
+
+"Who wanted her?"
+
+"The young person who serves Madame as secretary. She went out this
+morning very early; and, as soon as she returned, she sent for Florine,
+who has not come back since."
+
+"This absence no doubt relates to some important affair of my angelic
+minister of succor," said Adrienne, smiling, and thinking of the
+hunchback. Then she made a sign to Hebe to approach her bed.
+
+About two hours after rising, Adrienne, having had herself dressed,
+as usual, with rare elegance, dismissed her women, and sent for Mother
+Bunch, whom she treated with marked deference, always receiving her
+alone. The young sempstress entered hastily, with a pale, agitated
+countenance, and said, in a trembling voice: "Oh, madame! my
+presentiments were justified. You are betrayed."
+
+"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with
+surprise. "Who betrays me?"
+
+"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. DOUBTS.
+
+On hearing the accusation brought against Rodin, Mdlle. de Cardoville
+looked at the denunciator with new astonishment. Before continuing this
+scene, we may say that Mother Bunch was no longer clad in her poor, old
+clothes, but was dressed in black, with as much simplicity as taste. The
+sad color seemed to indicate her renunciation of all human vanity, the
+eternal mourning of her heart, and the austere duties imposed upon her
+by her devotion to misfortune. With her black gown, she wore a large
+falling collar, white and neat as her little gauze cap, with its gray
+ribbons, which, revealing her bands of fine brown hair, set off to
+advantage her pale and melancholy countenance, with its soft blue eyes.
+Her long, delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no
+longer, as formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent
+whiteness.
+
+Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely
+surprised, Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?"
+
+"M. Rodin betrays you, madame."
+
+"M. Rodin? Impossible!"
+
+"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me."
+
+"Your presentiments?"
+
+"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My
+heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame."
+
+"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor
+friend?"
+
+"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear
+was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin
+showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less."
+
+"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost
+irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this
+instance--However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no
+matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?"
+
+"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M.
+Rodin had given me, in the name of a charitable person. I did not find
+Cephyse at the friend's who had taken care of her; I therefore begged
+the portress, to inform my sister that I would call again this morning.
+That is what I did; but you must excuse me, madame, some necessary
+details."
+
+"Speak, speak, my dear."
+
+"The young girl who had received my sister," said Mother Bunch, with
+embarrassment, casting down her eyes and blushing, "does not lead a very
+regular life. A person, with whom she has gone on several parties of
+pleasure, one M. Dumoulin, had informed her of the real name of M.
+Rodin, who has a kind of lodging in that house, and there goes by the
+name of Charlemagne."
+
+"That is just what he told us at Dr. Baleinier's; and, the day before
+yesterday, when I again alluded to the circumstance, he explained to
+me the necessity in which he was, for certain reasons, to have a humble
+retreat in that remote quarter--and I could not but approve of his
+motives."
+
+"Well, then! yesterday, M. Rodin received a visit from the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny."
+
+"The Abbe d'Aigrigny!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"Yes, madame; he remained for two hours shut up with M. Rodin."
+
+"My child, you must have been deceived."
+
+"I was told, madame, that the Abbe d'Aigrigny had called in the morning
+to see M. Rodin; not finding him at home, he had left with the portress
+his name written on a slip of paper, with the words, 'I shall return
+in two hours.' The girl of whom I spoke, madame, had seen this slip of
+paper. As all that concerns M. Rodin appears mysterious enough, she
+had the curiosity to wait for M. d'Aigrigny in the porter's lodge, and,
+about two hours afterwards, he indeed returned, and saw M. Rodin."
+
+"No, no," said Adrienne, shuddering; "it is impossible. There must be
+some mistake."
+
+"I think not, madame; for, knowing how serious such a discovery would
+be, I begged the young girl to describe to me the appearance of M.
+d'Aigrigny."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, she told me, is about forty years of age. He is
+tall and upright, dresses plainly, but with care; has gray eyes, very
+large and piercing, thick eyebrows, chestnut-colored hair, a face
+closely shaved, and a very decided aspect."
+
+"It is true," said Adrienne, hardly able to believe what she heard. "The
+description is exact."
+
+"Wishing to have all possible details," resumed Mother Bunch, "I asked
+the portress if M. Rodin and the Abbe d'Aigrigny appeared to be at
+variance when they quitted the house? She replied no, but that the
+Abbe said to M. Rodin, as they parted at the door: 'I will write to you
+tomorrow, as agreed.'"
+
+"Is it a dream? Good heaven!" said Adrienne, drawing her hands across
+her forehead in a sort of stupor. "I cannot doubt your word, my poor
+friend; and yet it is M. Rodin who himself sent you to that house, to
+give assistance to your sister: would he have wilfully laid open to you
+his secret interviews with the Abbe d'Aigrigny? It would have been bad
+policy in a traitor."
+
+"That is true, and the same reflection occurred to me. And yet the
+meeting of these two men appeared so dangerous to you, madame, that I
+returned home full of terror."
+
+Characters of extreme honesty are very hard to convince of the treachery
+of others: the more infamous the deception, the more they are inclined
+to doubt it. Adrienne was one of these characters, rectitude being a
+prime quality of her mind. Though deeply impressed by the communication,
+she remarked: "Come, my dear, do not let us frighten ourselves too soon,
+or be over-hasty in believing evil. Let us try to enlighten ourselves by
+reasoning, and first of all remember facts. M. Rodin opened for me the
+doors of Dr. Baleinier's asylum; in my presence, he brought, his charge
+against the Abbe d'Aigrigny; he forced the superior of the convent
+to restore Marshal Simon's daughters, he succeeded in discovering the
+retreat of Prince Djalma--he faithfully executed my intentions with
+regard to my young cousin; only yesterday, he gave me the most useful
+advice. All this is true--is it not?"
+
+"Certainly, madame."
+
+"Now suppose that M. Rodin, putting things in their worst light,
+had some after-thought--that he hopes to be liberally rewarded, for
+instance; hitherto, at least, he has shown complete disinterestedness."
+
+"That also is true, madame," said poor Mother Bunch, obliged, like
+Adrienne, to admit the evidence of fixed facts.
+
+"Now let us look to the possibility of treachery. Unite with the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny to betray me! Betray me?--how? and for what purpose? What
+have I to fear? Is it not the Abbe d'Aigrigny, on the contrary, is
+it not Madame de Saint-Dizier, who have to render an account for the
+injuries they have done me?"
+
+"But, then, madame, how do you explain the meeting of these two men,
+who have so many motives for mutual aversion? May there not be some dark
+project still behind? Besides, madame, I am not the only one to think
+so."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"This morning, on my return, I was so much agitated, that Mdlle. Florine
+asked me the cause of my trouble. I know, madame, how much she is
+devoted to you."
+
+"Nobody could be more so; only recently, you yourself informed me of the
+signal service she rendered, during my confinement at Dr. Baleinier's."
+
+"Well, madame, this morning, on my return, thinking it necessary to have
+you informed as soon as possible, I told all to Mdlle. Florine. Like
+me--even more, perhaps--she was terrified at the meeting of Rodin and M.
+d'Aigrigny.
+
+"After a moment's reflection, she said to me: 'It is, I think, useless
+to disturb my mistress at present; it can be of no importance whether
+she is informed of this treachery two or three hours sooner or later;
+during that time I may be able to discover something more. I have an
+idea, which I think a good one. Make my excuses to my mistress; I shall
+soon be back.' Then Florine sent for a hackney-coach, and went out."
+
+"Florine is an excellent girl," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, with a smile,
+for further reflection had quite reassured her: "but, on this occasion,
+I think that her zeal and good heart have deceived her, as they have
+you, my poor friend. Do you know, that we are two madcaps, you and I,
+not to have thought of one thing, which would have put us quite at our
+ease?"
+
+"How so, madame?"
+
+"The Abbe d'Aigrigny fears M. Rodin; he may have sought him out,
+to entreat his forbearance. Do you not find this explanation both
+satisfactory and reasonable?"
+
+"Perhaps so, madame," said Mother Bunch, after a moment's reflection;
+"yes, it is probable." But after another silence, and as if yielding to
+a conviction superior to every possible argument, she exclaimed:
+"And yet, no; believe me, madame, you are deceived. I feel it. All
+appearances may be against what I affirm; yet, believe me, these
+presentiments are too strong not to be true. And have you not guessed
+the most secret instincts of my heart? Why should I not be able to guess
+the dangers with which you are menaced?"
+
+"What do you say? what have I guessed?" replied Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+involuntarily impressed by the other's tone of conviction and alarm.
+
+"What have you guessed?" resumed the latter. "All the troublesome
+susceptibility of an unfortunate creature, to whom destiny has decreed a
+life apart. If I have hitherto been silent, it is not from ignorance
+of what I owe you. Who told you, madame, that the only way to make me
+accept your favors without blushing, was to give me some employment,
+that would enable me to soothe the misfortunes I had so long shared? Who
+told you, when you wished me to have a seat at your table, and to treat
+as your friend the poor needlewoman, in whose person you sought to
+honor, resignation and honest industry--who told you, when I answered
+with tears of gratitude and regret, that it was not false modesty, but
+a consciousness of my own ridiculous deformity, that made me refuse
+your offer? Who told you that, but for this, I should have accepted it
+proudly, in the name of all my low-born sisters? But you replied to me
+with the touching words: 'I understand your refusal, my friend; it is
+not occasioned by false modesty, but by a sentiment of dignity that
+I love and respect.' Who told you," continued the workgirl, with
+increasing animation, "that I should be so happy to find a little
+solitary retreat in this magnificent house, which dazzles me with its
+splendor? Who guided you in the choice of the apartment (still far
+too good) that you have provided for me? Who taught you, that, without
+envying the beauty of the charming creatures that surround you, and whom
+I love because they love you, I should always feel, by an involuntary
+comparison, embarrassed and ashamed before them? Who told you therefore
+to send them away, whenever you wished to speak with me? Yes! who
+has revealed to you all the painful and secret susceptibilities of a
+position like mine! Who has revealed them to you? God, no doubt! who in
+His infinite majesty creates worlds, and yet cares for the poor little
+insect hidden beneath the grass. And you think, that the gratitude of
+a heart you have understood so well, cannot rise in its turn to the
+knowledge of what may be hurtful to you? No, no, lady; some people have
+the instinct of self preservation; others have the still more precious
+instinct that enables them to preserve those they love. God has given
+me this instinct. I tell you that you are betrayed!" And with animated
+look, and cheeks slightly colored with emotion, the speaker laid such
+stress upon the last words, and accompanied them with such energetic
+gesture, that Mdlle. de Cardoville already shaken by the girl's warmth,
+began almost to share in her apprehensions. Then, although she had
+before learned to appreciate the superior intelligence of this poor
+child of the people, Mdlle. de Cardoville had never till now heard her
+friend express herself with so much eloquence--an eloquence, too, that
+was inspired by the noblest sentiments. This circumstance added to
+the impression made upon Adrienne. But at the moment she was about to
+answer, a knock was heard at the door of the room, and Florine entered.
+
+On seeing the alarmed countenance of her waiting-maid, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville said hastily: "Well, Florine! what news? Whence come you, my
+child?"
+
+"From Saint-Dizier House, madame."
+
+"And why did you go there?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise.
+
+"This morning," said Florine, glancing at the workgirl, "madame, there,
+confided to me her suspicions and uneasiness. I shared in them. The
+visit of the Abbe d'Aigrigny to M. Rodin appeared to me very serious.
+I thought, if it should turn out that M. Rodin had been during the last
+few days to Saint-Dizier House, there would be no longer any doubt of
+his treachery."
+
+"True," said Adrienne, more and more uneasy. "Well?"
+
+"As I had been charged to superintend the removal from the lodge, I knew
+that several things had remained there. To obtain admittance, I had to
+apply to Mrs. Grivois. I had thus a pretext for returning to the hotel."
+
+"What next, Florine, what next?"
+
+"I endeavored to get Mrs. Grivois to talk of M. Rodin; but it was in
+vain."
+
+"She suspected you," said the workgirl. "It was to be anticipated."
+
+"I asked her," continued Florine, "if they had seen M. Rodin at the
+hotel lately. She answered evasively. Then despairing of getting
+anything out of her," continued Florine, "I left Mrs. Grivois, and that
+my visit might excite no suspicion, I went to the pavilion--when, as I
+turn down the avenue--whom do I see? why, M. Rodin himself, hastening
+towards the little garden-door, wishing no doubt to depart unnoticed by
+that way."
+
+"Madame, you hear," cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with a
+supplicating air; "such evidence should convince you."
+
+"M. Rodin at the Princess de Saint-Dizier's!" cried Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, whose glance, generally so mild, now suddenly flashed with
+vehement indignation. Then she added, in a tone of considerable emotion,
+"Continue, Florine."
+
+"At sight of M. Rodin, I stopped," proceeded Florine, "and keeping a
+little on one side, I gained the pavilion without being seen. I looked
+out into the street, through the closed blinds, and perceived a hackney
+coach. It was waiting for M. Rodin, for, a minute after, he got into it,
+saying to the coachman, 'No. 39, Rue Blanche.'
+
+"The prince's!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Yes, M. Rodin was to see him to-day," said Adrienne, reflecting.
+
+"No doubt he betrays you, madame, and the prince also; the latter will
+be made his victim more easily than you."
+
+"Shame! shame!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, on a sudden, as she rose,
+all her features contracted with painful anger. "After such a piece
+of treachery, it is enough to make us doubt of everything--even of
+ourselves."
+
+"Oh, madame! is it not dreadful?" said Mother Bunch, shuddering.
+
+"But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny?" wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville. "Of a truth, it is enough
+to make one lose one's reason. It is an abyss--but, oh! how frightful is
+doubt!"
+
+"As I returned," said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion
+on her mistress, "I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not
+a minute to lose."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise.
+
+"M. Rodin will soon be alone with the prince," said Florine.
+
+"No doubt," replied Adrienne.
+
+"The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse.
+It is there that he will receive M. Rodin."
+
+"What then?" resumed Adrienne.
+
+"This greenhouse, which I had arranged according to your orders, has
+only one issue--by a door leading into a little lane. The gardener
+gets in that way every morning, so as not to have to pass through the
+apartments. Having finished his work, he does not return thither during
+the day."
+
+"What do you mean? what is your project?" said Adrienne, looking at
+Florine with growing surprise.
+
+"The plants are so disposed, that, I think, if even the shade were
+not there, which screens the glass that separates the saloon from the
+greenhouse, one might get near enough to hear what was passing in the
+room, without being seen. When I was superintending the arrangements, I
+always entered by this greenhouse door. The gardener had one key, and I
+another. Luckily, I have not yet parted with mine. Within an hour, you
+may know how far to trust M. Rodin. If he betrays the prince, he betrays
+you also."
+
+"What say you?" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"Set out instantly with me; we reach the side door; I enter alone, for
+precaution sake--if all is right, I return--"
+
+"You would have me turn spy?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, haughtily,
+interrupting Florine. "You cannot think it.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madame," said the girl, casting down her eyes, with
+confused and sorrowful air; "you had suspicions, and me seems 'tis the
+only way to confirm or destroy them."
+
+"Stoop to listen to a conversation--never!" replied Adrienne.
+
+"Madame," said Mother Bunch, suddenly, after same moments' thought,
+"permit me to tell you that Mdlle. Florine is right. The plan proposed
+is a painful one, but it is the only way in which you can clear up,
+perhaps, for ever, your doubts as to M. Rodin. Notwithstanding the
+evidence of facts, in spite of the almost certainty of my presentiments,
+appearances may deceive us. I was the first who accused M. Rodin to you.
+I should not forgive myself all the rest of my life, did I accuse him
+wrongfully. Beyond doubt, it is painful, as you say, madame, to listen
+to a conversation--" Then, with a violent effort to console herself, she
+added, as she strove to repress her tears, "Yet, as your safety is
+at stake, madame--for, if this be treachery, the future prospect is
+dreadful--I will go in your place--to--"
+
+"Not a word more, I entreat you," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+interrupting. "Let you, my poor friend, do for me what I thought
+degrading to do myself? Never!"
+
+Then, turning to Florine, she added, "Tell M. de Bonneville to have the
+carriage got ready on the instant."
+
+"You consent, then!" cried Florine, clasping her hands, and not seeking
+to conceal her joy; and her eyes also became full of tears.
+
+"Yes, I consent," answered Adrienne, with emotion. "If it is to be
+war--war to the knife, that they would wage with me--I must be prepared
+for it; and, come to think of it, it would only be weakness and folly
+not to put myself on my guard. No doubt this step costs me much, and is
+very repugnant to me, but it is the only way to put an end to suspicions
+that would be a continual torment to me, and perhaps to prevent still
+greater evils. Yes! for many important reasons, this interview of
+M. Rodin with Prince Djalma may be doubly decisive to me--as to the
+confidence, or the inexorable hate, that I must henceforth feel for M.
+Rodin. So, Florine, quick!--my cloak and bonnet, and the carriage. You
+will go with me. As for you, my dear, pray wait for me here," she added,
+turning to the work girl.
+
+Half an hour after this conversation, Adrienne's carriage stopped, as
+we have before seen, at the little garden-gate of the house in the
+Rue Blanche. Florine entered the greenhouse and soon returned to her
+mistress. "The shade is down, madame. M. Rodin has just entered the
+prince's room." Mdlle. de Cardoville was, therefore, present, though
+invisible, at the following scene, which took place between Rodin and
+Djalma.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. THE LETTER.
+
+Some minutes before the entrance of Mdlle. de Cardoville into the
+greenhouse, Rodin had been introduced by Faringhea into the presence
+of the prince, who, still under the influence of the burning excitement
+into which he had been plunged by the words of the half-caste, did not
+appear to perceive the Jesuit. The latter, surprised at the animated
+expression of Djalma's countenance, and his almost frantic air, made a
+sign of interrogation to Faringhea, who answered him privately in the
+following symbolical manner:--After laying his forefinger on his head
+and heart, he pointed to the fire burning in the chimney, signifying
+by his pantomimic action that the head and heart of Djalma were both
+in flames. No doubt Rodin understood him, for an imperceptible smile of
+satisfaction played upon his wan lips; then he said aloud to Faringhea,
+"I wish to be alone with the prince. Let down the shade and see that we
+are not interrupted." The half-caste bowed, and touched a spring
+near the sheet of plate-glass, which slid into the wall as the blind
+descended; then, again bowing, Faringhea left the room. It was shortly
+after that Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine entered the greenhouse,
+which was now only separated from the room in which was Djalma, by the
+transparent thickness of a shade of white silk, embroidered with large
+colored birds. The noise of the door, which Faringhea closed as he went
+out, seemed to recall the young Indian to himself; his features, though
+still animated, recovered their habitual expression of mildness and
+gentleness; he started, drew his hand across his brow, looked around
+him, as if waking up from a deep reverie, and then, advancing towards
+Rodin, with an air as respectful as confused, he said to him, using
+the expression commonly applied to old men in his country, "Pardon me,
+father." Still following the customs of his nation, so full of deference
+towards age, he took Rodin's hand to raise it to his lips, but the
+Jesuit drew back a step, and refused his homage.
+
+"For what do you ask pardon, my dear prince?" said he to Djalma.
+
+"When you entered, I was in a dream; I did not come to meet you. Once
+more, pardon me, father!"
+
+"Once more, I forgive you with all my heart, my dear prince. But let us
+have some talk. Pray resume your place on the couch, and your pipe, too,
+if you like it."
+
+But Djalma, instead of adopting the suggestion, and throwing himself
+on the divan, according to his custom, insisted on seating himself in a
+chair, notwithstanding all the persuasions of "the Old Man with the Good
+Heart," as he always called the Jesuit.
+
+"Really, your politeness troubles me, my dear prince," said Rodin; "you
+are here at home in India; at least, we wish you to think so."
+
+"Many things remind me of my country," said Djalma, in a mild grave
+tone. "Your goodness reminds me of my father, and of him who was a
+father to me," added the Indian, as he thought of Marshal Simon, whose
+arrival in Paris had been purposely concealed from him.
+
+After a moment's silence, he resumed in a tone full of affectionate
+warmth, as he stretched out his hand to Rodin, "You are come, and I am
+happy!"
+
+"I understand your joy, my dear prince, for I come to take you out of
+prison--to open your cage for you. I had begged you to submit to a brief
+seclusion, entirely for your own interest."
+
+"Can I go out to-morrow?"
+
+"To-day, my dear prince, if you please."
+
+The young Indian reflected for a moment, and then resumed, "I must have
+friends, since I am here in a palace that does not belong to me."
+
+"Certainly you have friends--excellent friends," answered Rodin. At
+these words, Djalma's countenance seemed to acquire fresh beauty. The
+most noble sentiments were expressed in his fine features; his large
+black eyes became slightly humid, and, after another interval of
+silence, he rose and said to Rodin with emotion: "Come!"
+
+"Whither, dear prince?" said the other, much surprised.
+
+"To thank my friends. I have waited three days. It is long."
+
+"Permit me dear prince--I have much to tell you on this subject--please
+to be seated."
+
+Djalma resumed his seat with docility. Rodin continued: "It is true that
+you have friends; or rather, you have a friend. Friends are rare."
+
+"What are you?"
+
+"Well, then, you have two friends, my dear prince--myself, whom you
+know, and one other, whom you do not know, and who desires to remain
+unknown to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Why?" answered Rodin, after a moment's embarrassment. "Because the
+happiness he feels in giving you these proofs of his friendship and even
+his own tranquillity, depend upon preserving this mystery."
+
+"Why should there be concealment when we do good?"
+
+"Sometimes, to conceal the good we do, my dear prince."
+
+"I profit by this friendship; why should he conceal himself from one?"
+These repeated questions of the young Indian appeared to puzzle Rodin,
+who, however, replied: "I have told you, my dear prince, that your
+secret friend would perhaps have his tranquillity compromised, if he
+were known."
+
+"If he were known--as my friend?"
+
+"Exactly so, dear prince."
+
+The countenance of Djalma immediately assumed an appearance of sorrowful
+dignity; he raised his head proudly, and said in a stern and haughty
+voice: "Since this friend hides himself from me, he must either be
+ashamed of me, or there is reason for me to be ashamed of him. I only
+accept hospitality from those who are worthy of me, and who think me
+worthy of them. I leave this house." So saying, Djalma rose with such
+an air of determination, that Rodin exclaimed: "Listen to me, my dear
+prince. Allow me to tell you, that your petulance and touchiness are
+almost incredible. Though we have endeavored to remind you of your
+beautiful country, we are here in Europe, in France, in the centre of
+Paris. This consideration may perhaps a little modify your views. Listen
+to me, I conjure you."
+
+Notwithstanding his complete ignorance of certain social
+conventionalisms, Djalma had too much good sense and uprightness, not
+to appreciate reason, when it appeared reasonable. The words of Rodin
+calmed him. With that ingenuous modesty, with which natures full of
+strength and generosity are almost always endowed, he answered mildly:
+"You are right, father. I am no longer in my own country. Here the
+customs are different. I will reflect upon it."
+
+Notwithstanding his craft and suppleness, Rodin sometimes found himself
+perplexed by the wild and unforseen ideas of the young Indian. Thus he
+saw, to his great surprise, that Djalma now remained pensive for some
+minutes, after which he resumed in a calm but firm tone: "I have obeyed
+you, father: I have reflected."
+
+"Well, my dear prince?"
+
+"In no country in the world, under no pretext, should a man of honor
+conceal his friendship for another man of honor."
+
+"But suppose there should be danger in avowing this friendship?" said
+Rodin, very uneasy at the turn the conversation was taking. Djalma eyed
+the Jesuit with contemptuous astonishment, and made no reply.
+
+"I understand your silence, my dear prince: a brave man ought to defy
+danger. True; but if it should be you that the danger threatens, in
+case this friendship were discovered, would not your man of honor be
+excusable, even praiseworthy, to persist in remaining unknown?"
+
+"I accept nothing from a friend, who thinks me capable of denying him
+from cowardice."
+
+"Dear prince--listen to me."
+
+"Adieu, father."
+
+"Yet reflect!"
+
+"I have said it," replied Djalma, in an abrupt and almost sovereign
+tone, as he walked towards the door.
+
+"But suppose a woman were concerned," cried Rodin, driven to extremity,
+and hastening after the young Indian, for he really feared that Djalma
+might rush from the house, and thus overthrow all his projects.
+
+At the last words of Rodin the Indian stopped abruptly. "A woman!" said
+he, with a start, and turning red. "A woman is concerned?"
+
+"Why, yes! suppose it were a woman," resumed Rodin, "would you not then
+understand her reserve, and the secrecy with which she is obliged to
+surround the marks of affection she wishes to give you?"
+
+"A woman!" repeated Djalma, in a trembling voice, clasping his hands in
+adoration; and his beautiful countenance was expressive of the deepest
+emotion. "A woman!" said he again. "A Parisian?"
+
+"Yes, my dear prince, as you force me to this indiscretion, I will
+confess to you that your friend is a real Parisian--a noble matron,
+endowed with the highest virtues--whose age alone merits all your
+respect."
+
+"She is very old, then?" cried poor Djalma, whose charming dream was
+thus abruptly dispelled.
+
+"She may be a few years older than I am," answered Rodin, with an
+ironical smile, expecting to see the young man express a sort of comical
+disappointment or angry regret.
+
+But it was not so. To the passionate enthusiasm of love, which had for
+a moment lighted up the prince's features, there now succeeded a
+respectful and touching expression. He looked at Rodin with emotion, and
+said to him in a broken voice: "This woman, is then, a mother to me?"
+
+It is impossible to describe with what a pious, melancholy, and tender
+charm the Indian uttered the word mother.
+
+"You have it, my dear prince; this respectable lady wishes to be a
+mother to you. But I may not reveal to you the cause of the affection
+she feels for you. Only, believe me--this affection is sincere, and the
+cause honorable. If I do not tell you her secret, it is that, with us,
+the secrets of women, young or old, are equally sacred."
+
+"That is right, and I will respect it. Without seeing her, I will love
+her--as I love God, without seeing Him."
+
+"And now, my dear prince, let me tell you what are the intentions of
+your maternal friend. This house will remain at your disposal, as long
+as you like it; French servants, a carriage, and horses, will be at your
+orders; the charges of your housekeeping will be paid for you. Then, as
+the son of a king should live royalty, I have left in the next room a
+casket containing five hundred Louis; every month a similar sum will
+be provided: if it should not be found sufficient for your little
+amusements, you will tell me, and it shall be augmented."
+
+At a movement of Djalma, Rodin hastened to add: "I must tell you at
+once, my dear prince, that your delicacy may be quite at ease. First
+of all, you may accept anything from a mother; next, as in about three
+months you will come into possession of an immense inheritance, it will
+be easy for you, if you feel the obligation a burden--and the sum
+cannot exceed, at the most, four or five thousand Louis--to repay these
+advances. Spare nothing, then, but satisfy all your fancies. You are
+expected to appear in the great world of Paris, in a style becoming the
+son of a king who was called the Father of the Generous. So once again I
+conjure you not to be restrained by a false delicacy; if this sum should
+not be sufficient--"
+
+"I will ask for more. My mother is right; the son of a monarch ought to
+live royally."
+
+Such was the answer of the Indian, made with perfect simplicity, and
+without any appearance of astonishment at these magnificent offers. This
+was natural. Djalma would have done for others what they were doing
+for him, for the traditions of the prodigal magnificence and splendid
+hospitality of Indian princes are well known. Djalma had been as moved
+as grateful, on hearing that a woman loved him with maternal affection.
+As for the luxury with which she nought to surround him, he accepted
+it without astonishment and without scruple. This resignation, again,
+somewhat disconcerted Rodin, who had prepared many excellent arguments
+to persuade the Indian to accept his offers.
+
+"Well, then, it's all agreed, my dear prince," resumed the Jesuit. "Now,
+as you must see the world, it's just as well to enter by the best door,
+as we say. One of the friends of your maternal protectress, the Count de
+Montbron, an old nobleman of the greatest experience, and belonging
+to the first society, will introduce you in some of the best houses in
+Paris."
+
+"Will you not introduce me, father?"
+
+"Alas! my dear prince, look at me. Tell me, if you think I am fitted
+for such an office. No! no; I live alone and retired from the world.
+And then," added Rodin, after a short silence, fixing a penetrating,
+attentive, and curious look upon the prince, as if he would have
+subjected him to a sort of experiment by what follows; "and then, you
+see, M. de Montbron will be better able than I should, in the world you
+are about to enter, to enlighten you as to the snares that will be
+laid for you. For if you have friends, you have also enemies--cowardly
+enemies, as you know, who have abused your confidence in an infamous
+manner, and have made sport of you. And as, unfortunately, their power
+is equal to their wickedness, it would perhaps be more prudent in you to
+try to avoid them--to fly, instead of resisting them openly."
+
+At the remembrance of his enemies, at the thought of flying from them,
+Djalma trembled in every limb; his features became of a lurid paleness;
+his eyes wide open, so that the pupil was encircled with white, sparkled
+with lurid fire; never had scorn, hatred, and the desire of vengeance,
+expressed themselves so terribly on a human face. His upper lip, blood
+red, was curled convulsively, exposing a row of small, white, and close
+set teeth, and giving to his countenance lately so charming, an air of
+such animal ferocity, that Rodin started from his seat, and exclaimed:
+"What is the matter, prince? You frighten me."
+
+Djalma did not answer. Half leaning forward, with his hands clinched in
+rage, he seemed to cling to one of the arms of the chair, for fear
+of yielding to a burst of terrific fury. At this moment, the amber
+mouthpiece of his pipe rolled, by chance, under one of his feet; the
+violent tension, which contracted all the muscles of the young Indian,
+was so powerful, and notwithstanding his youth and his light figure, he
+was endowed with such vigor, that with one abrupt stamp he powdered to
+dust the piece of amber, in spite of its extreme hardness.
+
+"In the name of heaven, what is the matter, prince?" cried Rodin.
+
+"Thus would I crush my cowardly enemies!" exclaimed Djalma, with
+menacing and excited look. Then, as if these words had brought his rage
+to a climax, he bounded from his seat, and, with haggard eyes, strode
+about the room for some seconds in all directions, as if he sought
+for some weapon, and uttered from time to time a hoarse cry, which he
+endeavored to stifle by thrusting his clinched fist against his mouth,
+whilst his jaws moved convulsively. It was the impotent rage of a wild
+beast, thirsting for blood. Yet, in all this, the young Indian preserved
+a great and savage beauty; it was evident that these instincts of
+sanguinary ardor and blind intrepidity, now excited to this pitch by
+horror of treachery and cowardice, when applied to war, or to those
+gigantic Indian hunts, which are even more bloody than a battle, must
+make of Djalma what he really was a hero.
+
+Rodin admired, with deep and ominous joy, the fiery impetuosity
+of passion in the young Indian, for, under various conceivable
+circumstances, the effect must be terrible. Suddenly, to the Jesuit's
+great surprise, the tempest was appeased. Djalma's fury was calmed thus
+instantaneously, because refection showed him how vain it was: ashamed
+of his childish violence, he cast down his eyes. His countenance
+remained pale and gloomy; and, with a cold tranquillity, far more
+formidable than the violence to which he had yielded, he said to Rodin:
+"Father, you will this day lead me to meet my enemies."
+
+"In what end, my dear prince? What would you do?"
+
+"Kill the cowards!"
+
+"Kill them! you must not think of it."
+
+"Faringhea will aid me."
+
+"Remember, you are not on the banks of the Ganges, and here one does not
+kill an enemy like a hunted tiger."
+
+"One fights with a loyal enemy, but one kills a traitor like an accursed
+dog," replied Djalma, with as much conviction as tranquillity.
+
+"Ah, prince, whose father was the Father of the Generous," said Rodin,
+in a grave voice; "what pleasure can you find in striking down creatures
+as cowardly as they are wicked?"
+
+"To destroy what is dangerous, is a duty."
+
+"So prince, you seek for revenge."
+
+"I do not revenge myself on a serpent," said the Indian, with haughty
+bitterness; "I crush it."
+
+"But, my dear prince, here we cannot get rid of our enemies in that
+manner. If we have cause of complaint--"
+
+"Women and children complain," said Djalma, interrupting Rodin: "men
+strike."
+
+"Still on the banks of the Ganges, my dear prince. Here society takes
+your cause into its own hands, examines, judges, and if there be good
+reason, punishes."
+
+"In my own quarrel, I am both judge and executioner."
+
+"Pray listen to me; you have escaped the odious snares of your enemies,
+have you not?--Well! suppose it were thanks to the devotion of the
+venerable woman who has for you the tenderness of a mother, and that
+she were to ask you to forgive them--she, who saved you from their
+hands--what would you do then?"
+
+The Indian hung his head, and was silent. Profiting by his hesitation,
+Rodin continued: "I might say to you that I know your enemies, but that
+in the dread of seeing you commit some terrible imprudence, I would
+conceal their names from you forever. But no! I swear to you, that if
+the respectable person, who loves you as her son, should find it either
+right or useful that I should tell you their names, I will do so--until
+she has pronounced, I must be silent."
+
+Djalma looked at Rodin with a dark and wrathful air. At this moment,
+Faringhea entered, and said to Rodin: "A man with a letter, not finding
+you at home, has been sent on here. Am I to receive it? He says it comes
+from the Abbe d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Certainly," answered Rodin. "That is," he added, "with the prince's
+permission."
+
+Djalma nodded in reply; Faringhea went out.
+
+"You will excuse what I have done, dear prince. I expected this morning
+a very important letter. As it was late in coming to hand, I ordered it
+to be sent on."
+
+A few minutes after, Faringhea returned with the letter, which he
+delivered to Rodin--and the half-caste again withdrew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. ADRIENNE AND DJALMA.
+
+When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbe
+d'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be looking
+for something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in the
+pocket behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what he
+sought, he laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over with
+both hands, with an air of regret and uneasiness. The divers movements
+of this pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned by
+the exclamations.
+
+"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!"
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in
+which he had been plunged for some minutes.
+
+"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile
+accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I have
+forgotten or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the very
+poor eyesight that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely
+impossible for me to read this most important letter--and an immediate
+answer is expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Times
+presses; it is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying great
+stress on his words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince
+might remark it; "if only some one would render me the service to read
+it for me; but there is no one--no--one!"
+
+"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I have
+finished it, I shall forget what I have read."
+
+"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared
+to him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to
+read this letter."
+
+"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly.
+
+"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if
+speaking to himself, "why not?"
+
+And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, my
+dear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service."
+
+So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud as
+follows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only be
+considered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part.
+
+"'Here is the last proposition I have to make. It may be as fruitless as
+the step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis.
+
+"'After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would write
+to you. I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum.
+
+"'First of all, a piece of advice. Beware! If you are determined to
+maintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatred
+of those whom you so foolishly seek to protect. There are a thousand
+ways to ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects. It
+will be proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which you
+now pretend to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" Though
+Djalma had the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subject
+of this letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbear
+turning his head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the last
+passage.
+
+"Oh, yes! it relates to me. Such as you see me, my dear prince," added
+he, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity."
+
+"And who are these people that you protect?"
+
+"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if he
+had been embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect?
+Hem--hem--I will tell you. They are poor devils without resources; good
+people without a penny, having only a just cause on their side, in a
+lawsuit in which they are engaged. They are threatened with destruction
+by powerful parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latter
+are known to me, and I am able to unmask them. What else could have
+been? Being myself poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the side
+of the poor and weak. But continue, I beg of you."
+
+Djalma resumed: "'You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persist
+in your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whom
+you call your friends. They might more justly be termed your dupes, for
+your disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere. It must
+therefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity.
+
+"'Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you ample
+compensation--with this difference, that your hopes are now entirely
+founded on the probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtful
+chance at the best, whereas our offers will be realized on the instant.
+To speak clearly, this is what we ask, what we exact of you. This very
+night, before twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to return
+for six months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, and
+looked at Rodin.
+
+"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would be
+judged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them. You see
+how it is, my dear prince," added Rodin, with bitter indignation. "But
+please continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though,
+indeed, such impudence disgusts me."
+
+Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Paris
+for six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends in
+Germany. You will there be received with generous hospitality, but
+forcibly detained until the expiration of the term.'"
+
+"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin.
+
+"'On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francs
+a month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francs
+down, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole to
+be completely secured to you. Finally, at the end of the six months, we
+will place you in a position both honorable and independent.'"
+
+Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said to
+him: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince. Read to the end,
+and it will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of our
+civilization."
+
+Djalma resumed: "'You know well enough the course of affairs, and what
+we are, to feel that in providing for your absence, we only wish to get
+rid of an enemy, not very dangerous, but rather troublesome. Do not be
+blinded by your first success. The results of your denunciation will
+be stifled, because they are calumnious. The judge who received your
+evidence will soon repent his odious partiality. You may make what use
+you please of this letter. We know what we write, to whom we write, and
+how we write. You will receive this letter at three o'clock; if by four
+o'clock we have not your full and complete acceptance, written with your
+own hand at the bottom of this letter, war must commence between us--and
+not from to-morrow, but on the instant.'"
+
+Having finished reading the letter, Djalma looked at Rodin, who said to
+him: "Permit me to summon Faringhea."
+
+He rang the bell, and the half-caste appeared. Rodin took the letter
+from the hands of Djalma, tore it into halves, rubbed it between his
+palms, so as to make a sort of a ball, and said to the half-caste, as
+he returned it to him: "Give this palter to the person who waits for
+it, and tell him that is my only answer to his shameless and insolent
+letter; you understand me--this shameless and insolent letter."
+
+"I understand." said the half-caste; and he went out.
+
+"This will perhaps be a dangerous war for you, father, said the Indian,
+with interest.
+
+"Yes, dear prince, it may be dangerous, but I am not like you; I have no
+wish to kill my enemies, because they are cowardly and wicked. I fight
+them under the shield of the law. Imitate me in this." Then, seeing that
+the countenance of Djalma darkened, he added: "I am wrong. I will advise
+you no more on this subject. Only, let us defer the decision to the
+judgment of your noble and motherly protectress. I shall see her to
+morrow; if she consents, I will tell you the names of your enemies. If
+not--not."
+
+"And this woman, this second mother," said Djalma, "is her character
+such, that I can rely on her judgment?"
+
+"She!" cried Rodin, clasping his hands, and speaking with increased
+excitement. "Why, she is the most noble, the most generous, the most
+valiant being upon earth!--why, if you were really her son, and she
+loved you with all the strength of maternal affection, and a case arose
+in which you had to choose between an act of baseness and death, she
+would say to you: 'Die!' though she might herself die with you."
+
+"Oh, noble woman! so was my mother!" cried Djalma, with enthusiasm.
+
+"Yes," resumed Rodin, with growing energy, as he approached the window
+concealed by the shade, towards which he threw an oblique and anxious
+glance, "if you would imagine your protectress, think only of courage,
+uprightness, and loyalty personified. Oh! she has the chivalrous
+frankness of the brave man, joined with the high-souled dignity of the
+woman, who not only never in her life told a falsehood, never concealed
+a single thought, but who would rather die than give way to the least
+of those sentiments of craft and dissimulation, which are almost forced
+upon ordinary women by the situation in which they are placed."
+
+It is difficult to express the admiration which shone upon the
+countenance of Djalma, as he listened to this description. His eyes
+sparkled, his cheeks glowed, his heart palpitated with enthusiasm.
+
+"That is well, noble heart!" said Rodin to him, drawing still nearer
+to the blind; "I love to see your soul sparkle through your eyes, on
+hearing me speak thus of your unknown protectress. Oh! but she is worthy
+of the pious adoration which noble hearts and great characters inspire!"
+
+"Oh! I believe you," cried Djalma, with enthusiasm; "my heart is full of
+admiration and also of astonishment, for my mother is no more, and yet
+such a woman exists!"
+
+"Yes, she exists. For the consolation of the afflicted, for the glory of
+her sex, she exists. For the honor of truth, and the shame of falsehood,
+she exists. No lie, no disguise, has ever tainted her loyalty, brilliant
+and heroic as the sword of a knight. It is but a few days ago that this
+noble woman spoke to me these admirable words, which, in all my life,
+I shall not forget: 'Sir,' she said, 'if ever I suspect any one that I
+love or esteem--'"
+
+Rodin did not finish. The shade, so violently shaken that the spring
+broke, was drawn up abruptly, and, to the great astonishment of Djalma,
+Mdlle. de Cardoville appeared before him. Adrienne's cloak had fallen
+from her shoulders, and in the violence of the movement with which she
+had approached the blind, her bonnet, the strings of which were untied,
+had also fallen. Having left home suddenly, with only just time to throw
+a mantle over the picturesque and charming costume which she often chose
+to wear when alone, she appeared so radiant with beauty to Djalma's
+dazzled eyes, in the centre of those leaves and flowers, that the Indian
+believed himself under the influence of a dream.
+
+With clasped hands, eyes wide open, the body slightly bent forward, as
+if in the act of prayer, he stood petrified with admiration, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, much agitated, and her countenance glowing with emotion,
+remained on the threshold of the greenhouse, without entering the room.
+All this had passed in less time than it takes to describe it. Hardly
+had the blind been raised, than Rodin, feigning surprise, exclaimed:
+"You here, madame?"
+
+"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, in an agitated voice, "I come to terminate
+the phrase which you have commenced. I told you, that when a suspicion
+crossed my mind, I uttered it aloud to the person by whom it was
+inspired. Well! I confess it: I have failed in this honesty. I came here
+as a spy upon you, when your answer to the Abbe d'Aigrigny was giving me
+a new pledge of your devotion and sincerity. I doubted your uprightness
+at the moment when you were bearing testimony to my frankness. For
+the first time in my life, I stooped to deceit; this weakness merits
+punishment, and I submit to it--demands reparation, and I make it--calls
+for apologies, and I tender them to you." Then turning towards Djalma,
+she added: "Now, prince, I am no longer mistress of my secret. I am your
+relation, Mdlle. de Cardoville; and I hope you will accept from a sister
+the hospitality that you did not refuse from a mother."
+
+Djalma made no reply. Plunged in ecstatic contemplation of this sudden
+apparition, which surpassed his wildest and most dazzling visions, he
+felt a sort of intoxication, which, paralyzing the power of thought,
+concentrated all his faculties in the one sense of sight; and just as we
+sometimes seek in vain to satisfy unquenchable thirst, the burning look
+of the Indian sought, as it were, with devouring avidity, to take in
+all the rare perfections of the young lady. Verily, never had two more
+divine types of beauty met face to face. Adrienne and Djalma were the
+very ideal of a handsome youth and maiden. There seemed to be something
+providential in the meeting of these two natures, so young and so
+vivacious, so generous and so full of passion, so heroic and so proud,
+who, before coming into contact, had, singularly enough, each learned
+the moral worth of the other; for if, at the words of Rodin, Djalma had
+felt arise in his heart an admiration, as lively as it was sudden, for
+the valiant and generous qualities of that unknown benefactress, whom
+he now discovered in Mdlle. de Cardoville, the latter had, in her turn,
+been moved, affected, almost terrified, by the interview she had just
+overheard, in which Djalma had displayed the nobleness of his soul,
+the delicate goodness of his heart, and the terrible transports of
+his temper. Then she had not been able to repress a movement of
+astonishment, almost admiration, at sight of the surprising beauty of
+the prince; and soon after, a strange, painful sentiment, a sort
+of electric shock, seemed to penetrate all her being, as her eyes
+encountered Djalma's.
+
+Cruelly agitated, and suffering deeply from this agitation, she tried
+to dissemble the impression she had received, by addressing Rodin, to
+apologize for having suspected him. But the obstinate silence of the
+Indian redoubled the lady's painful embarrassment. Again raising her
+eyes towards the prince, to invite him to respond to her fraternal
+offer, she met his ardent gaze wildly fixed upon her, and she looked
+once more with a mixture of fear, sadness, and wounded pride; then she
+congratulated herself on having foreseen the inexorable necessity of
+keeping Djalma at a distance from her, such apprehension did this ardent
+and impetuous nature already inspire. Wishing to put an end to her
+present painful situation, she said to Rodin, in a low and trembling
+voice, "Pray, sir, speak to the prince; repeat to him my offers. I
+cannot remain longer." So saying, Adrienne turned, as if to rejoin
+Florine. But, at the first step, Djalma sprang towards her with the
+bound of a tiger, about to be deprived of his prey. Terrified by the
+expression of wild excitement which inflamed the Indian's countenance,
+the young lady drew back with a loud scream.
+
+At this, Djalma remembered himself, and all that had passed. Pale with
+regret and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears,
+and all his features marked with an expression of the most touching
+despair, he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped hands
+towards her, said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain!
+remain! do not leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer,
+uttered with the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation which
+contrasted strangely with the savage violence that had so frightened
+Adrienne, she replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare for
+their departure: "Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longer
+here."
+
+"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "I
+shall see you again?"
+
+"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice.
+Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma,
+Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse.
+
+Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at the
+moment she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice:
+"To-morrow we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in every
+limb, and, without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress,
+behind the plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees,
+with his head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neither
+rage nor excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. Seeing
+Rodin approach him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he could
+hardly reach the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in his
+hands.
+
+Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone:
+"Alas! I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see your
+benefactress; and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dear
+prince?"
+
+Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turned
+towards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears.
+
+"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it is
+so easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you that
+misfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionately
+loves a handsome young man of this town."
+
+Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as if
+he felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw back his
+head, and fell fainting upon the divan.
+
+Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he went
+away, brushing his old hat with his elbow,
+
+"Come! it works--it works!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE CONSULTATION.
+
+It is night. It has just struck nine. It is the evening of that day
+on which Mdlle. de Cardoville first found herself in the presence of
+Djalma. Florine, pale, agitated, trembling, with a candle in her hand,
+had just entered a bedroom, plainly but comfortably furnished. This room
+was one of the apartments occupied by Mother Bunch, in Adrienne's house.
+They were situated on the ground-floor, and had two entrances. One
+opened on the garden, and the other on the court-yard. From this side
+came the persons who applied to the workgirl for succor; an ante-chamber
+in which they waited, a parlor in which they were received, constituted
+Mother Bunch's apartments, along with the bedroom, which Florine
+had just entered, looking about her with an anxious and alarmed air,
+scarcely touching the carpet with the tips of her satin shoes, holding
+her breath, and listening at the least noise.
+
+Placing the candle upon the chimney-piece, she took a rapid survey
+of the chamber, and approached the mahogany desk, surmounted by a
+well-filled bookcase. The key had been left in the drawers of this
+piece of furniture, and they were all three examined by Florine. They
+contained different petitions from persons in distress, and various,
+notes in the girl's handwriting. This was not what Florine wanted. Three
+cardboard boxes were placed in pigeon-holes beneath the bookcase. These
+also were vainly explored, and Florine, with a gesture of vexation,
+looked and listened anxiously; then, seeing a chest of drawers, she
+made therein a fresh and useless search. Near the foot of the bed was
+a little door, leading to a dressing-room. Florine entered it, and
+looked--at first without success--into a large wardrobe, in which were
+suspended several black dresses, recently made for Mother Bunch,
+by order of Mdlle. de Cardoville. Perceiving, at the bottom of this
+wardrobe, half hidden beneath a cloak, a very shabby little trunk,
+Florine opened it hastily, and found there, carefully folded up, the
+poor old garments in which the work-girl had been clad when she first
+entered this opulent mansion.
+
+Florine started--an involuntary emotion contracted her features; but
+considering that she had not liberty to indulge her feelings, but only
+to obey Rodin's implacable orders, she hastily closed both trunk and
+wardrobe, and leaving the dressing-room, returned into the bed-chamber.
+After having again examined the writing-stand, a sudden idea occurred to
+her. Not content with once more searching the cardboard boxes, she drew
+out one of them from the pigeon-hole, hoping to find what she sought
+behind the box: her first attempt failed, but the second was more
+successful. She found behind the middle box a copy-book of considerable
+thickness. She started in surprise, for she had expected something else;
+yet she took the manuscript, opened it, and rapidly turned over
+the leaves. After having perused several pages, she manifested her
+satisfaction, and seemed as if about to put the book in her pocket; but
+after a moment's reflection, she replaced it where she had found it,
+arranged everything in order, took her candle, and quitted the apartment
+without being discovered--of which, indeed, she had felt pretty sure,
+knowing that Mother Bunch would be occupied with Mdlle. de Cardoville
+for some hours.
+
+The day after Florine's researches, Mother Bunch, alone in her bed
+chamber, was seated in an arm-chair, close to a good fire. A thick
+carpet covered the floor; through the window-curtains could be seen the
+lawn of a large garden; the deep silence was only interrupted by the
+regular ticking of a clock, and the crackling of the wood. Her
+hands resting on the arms of the chair, she gave way to a feeling of
+happiness, such as she had never so completely enjoyed since she took
+up her residence at the hotel. For her, accustomed so long to cruel
+privations, there was a kind of inexpressible charm in the calm silence
+of this retreat--in the cheerful aspect of the garden, and above all, in
+the consciousness that she was indebted for this comfortable position,
+to the resignation and energy she had displayed, in the thick of the
+many severe trials which now ended so happily. An old woman, with a mild
+and friendly countenance, who had been, by express desire of Adrienne,
+attached to the hunchback's service, entered the room and said to her:
+"Mademoiselle, a young man wishes to speak to you on pressing business.
+He gives his name as Agricola Baudoin."
+
+At this name, Mother Bunch uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy,
+blushed slightly, rose and ran to the door which led to the parlor in
+which was Agricola.
+
+"Good-morning, dear sister," said the smith, cordially embracing the
+young girl, whose cheeks burned crimson beneath those fraternal kisses.
+
+"Ah, me!" cried the sempstress on a sudden, as she looked anxiously
+at Agricola; "what is that black band on your forehead? You have been
+wounded!"
+
+"A mere nothing," said the smith, "really nothing. Do not think of it.
+I will tell you all about that presently. But first, I have things of
+importance to communicate."
+
+"Come into my room, then; we shall be alone," Mother Bunch, as she went
+before Agricola.
+
+Notwithstanding the expression of uneasiness which was visible on the
+countenance of Agricola, he could not forbear smiling with pleasure as
+he entered the room and looked around him.
+
+"Excellent, my poor sister! this is how I would always have you lodged.
+I recognize here the hand of Mdlle. de Cardoville. What a heart! what
+a noble mind!--Dost know, she wrote to me the day before yesterday,
+to thank me for what I had done for her, and sent me a gold pin (very
+plain), which she said I need not hesitate to accept, as it had no other
+value but that of having been worn by her mother! You can't tell how
+much I was affected by the delicacy of this gift!"
+
+"Nothing must astonish you from a heart like hers," answered the
+hunchback. "But the wound--the wound?"
+
+"Presently, my good sister; I have so many things to tell you. Let us
+begin by what is most pressing, for I want you to give me some good
+advice in a very serious case. You know how much confidence I have in
+your excellent heart and judgment. And then, I have to ask of you a
+service--oh! a great service," added the smith, in an earnest, and
+almost solemn tone, which astonished his hearer. "Let us begin with what
+is not personal to myself."
+
+"Speak quickly."
+
+"Since my mother went with Gabriel to the little country curacy he has
+obtained, and since my father lodges with Marshal Simon and the young
+ladies, I have resided, you know, with my mates, at M. Hardy's factory,
+in the common dwelling-house. Now, this morning but first, I must tell
+you that M. Hardy, who has lately returned from a journey, is again
+absent for a few days on business. This morning, then, at the hour of
+breakfast, I remained at work a little after the last stroke of the
+bell; I was leaving the workshop to go to our eating-room, when I saw
+entering the courtyard, a lady who had just got out of a hackney-coach.
+I remarked that she was fair, though her veil was half down; she had
+a mild and pretty countenance, and her dress was that of a fashionable
+lady. Struck with her paleness, and her anxious, frightened air, I asked
+her if she wanted anything. 'Sir,' said she to me, in a trembling voice,
+and as if with a great effort, 'do you belong to this factory?'--'Yes,
+madame.'--'M. Hardy is then in clanger?' she exclaimed.--'M. Hardy,
+madame? He has not yet returned home.'--'What!' she went on, 'M. Hardy
+did not come hither yesterday evening? Was he not dangerously wounded by
+some of the machinery?' As she said these words, the poor young lady's
+lips trembled, and I saw large tears standing in her eyes. 'Thank God,
+madame! all this is entirely false,' said I, 'for M. Hardy has
+not returned, and indeed is only expected by to-morrow or the day
+after.'--'You are quite sure that he has not returned! quite sure that
+he is not hurt?' resumed the pretty young lady, drying her eyes.--'Quite
+sure, madame; if M. Hardy were in danger, I should not be so quiet in
+talking to you about him.'--'Oh! thank God! thank God!' cried the young
+lady. Then she expressed to me her gratitude, with so happy, so feeling
+an air, that I was quite touched by it. But suddenly, as if then only
+she felt ashamed of the step she had taken, she let down her veil, left
+me precipitately, went out of the court-yard, and got once more into the
+hackney-coach that had brought her. I said to myself: 'This is a lady
+who takes great interest in M. Hardy, and has been alarmed by a false
+report."'
+
+"She loves him, doubtless," said Mother Bunch, much moved, "and, in
+her anxiety, she perhaps committed an act of imprudence, in coming to
+inquire after him."
+
+"It is only too true. I saw her get into the coach with interests, for
+her emotion had infected me. The coach started--and what did I see a few
+seconds after? A cab, which the young lady could not have perceived, for
+it had been hidden by an angle of the wall; and, as it turned round the
+corner, I distinguished perfectly a man seated by the driver's side, and
+making signs to him to take the same road as the hackney-coach."
+
+"The poor young lady was followed," said Mother Bunch, anxiously.
+
+"No doubt of it; so I instantly hastened after the coach, reached it,
+and through the blinds that were let down, I said to the young lady,
+whilst I kept running by the side of the coach door: 'Take care, madame;
+you are followed by a cab.
+
+"Well, Agricola! and what did she answer?"
+
+"I heard her exclaim, 'Great Heaven!' with an accent of despair. The
+coach continued its course. The cab soon came up with me; I saw, by
+the side of the driver, a great, fat, ruddy man, who, having watched me
+running after the coach, no doubt suspected something, for he looked at
+me somewhat uneasily."
+
+"And when does M. Hardy return?" asked the hunchback.
+
+"To-morrow, or the day after. Now, my good sister, advise me. It is
+evident that this young lady loves M. Hardy. She is probably married,
+for she looked so embarrassed when she spoke to me, and she uttered
+a cry of terror on learning that she was followed. What shall I do? I
+wished to ask advice of Father Simon, but he is so very strict in such
+matters--and then a love affair, at his age!--while you are so delicate
+and sensible, my good sister, that you will understand it all."
+
+The girl started, and smiled bitterly; Agricola did not perceive it, and
+thus continued: "So I said to myself, 'There is only Mother Bunch, who
+can give me good advice.' Suppose M. Hardy returns to-morrow, shall I
+tell him what has passed or not?"
+
+"Wait a moment," cried the other, suddenly interrupting Agricola, and
+appearing to recollect something; "when I went to St. Mary's Convent, to
+ask for work of the superior, she proposed that I should be employed by
+the day, in a house in which I was to watch or, in other words, to act
+as a spy--"
+
+"What a wretch!"
+
+"And do you know," said the girl, "with whom I was to begin this odious
+trade? Why, with a Madame de-Fremont, or de Bremont, I do not remember
+which, a very religious woman, whose daughter, a young married lady,
+received visits a great deal too frequent (according to the superior)
+from a certain manufacturer."
+
+"What do you say?" cried Agricola. "This manufacturer must be--"
+
+"M. Hardy. I had too many reasons to remember that name, when it was
+pronounced by the superior. Since that day, so many other events have
+taken place, that I had almost forgotten the circumstance. But it is
+probable that this young lady is the one of whom I heard speak at the
+convent."
+
+"And what interest had the superior of the convent to set a spy upon
+her?" asked the smith.
+
+"I do not know; but it is clear that the same interest still exists,
+since the young lady was followed, and perhaps, at this hour, is
+discovered and dishonored. Oh! it is dreadful!" Then, seeing Agricola
+start suddenly, Mother Bunch added: "What, then, is the matter?"
+
+"Yes--why not?" said the smith, speaking to himself; "why may not all
+this be the work of the same hand? The superior of a convent may have a
+private understanding with an abbe--but, then, for what end?"
+
+"Explain yourself, Agricola," said the girl. "And then,--where did you
+get your wound? Tell me that, I conjure you."
+
+"It is of my wound that I am just going to speak; for in truth, the
+more I think of it, the more this adventure of the young lady seems to
+connect itself with other facts."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"You must know that, for the last few days, singular things are passing
+in the neighborhood of our factory. First, as we are in Lent, an abbe
+from Paris (a tall, fine-looking man, they say) has come to preach in
+the little village of Villiers, which is only a quarter of a league from
+our works. The abbe has found occasion to slander and attack M. Hardy in
+his sermons."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"M. Hardy has printed certain rules with regard to our work, and the
+rights and benefits he grants us. These rules are followed by various
+maxims as noble as they are simple; with precepts of brotherly love such
+as all the world can understand, extracted from different philosophies
+and different religions. But because M. Hardy has chosen what is best in
+all religions, the abbe concludes that M. Hardy has no religion at all,
+and he has therefore not only attacked him for this in the pulpit,
+but has denounced our factory as a centre of perdition and damnable
+corruption, because, on Sundays, instead of going to listen to his
+sermons, or to drink at a tavern, our comrades, with their wives and
+children, pass their time in cultivating their little gardens, in
+reading, singing in chorus, or dancing together in the common dwelling
+house. The abbe has even gone so far as to say, that the neighborhood
+of such an assemblage of atheists, as he calls us, might draw down the
+anger of Heaven upon the country--that the hovering of Cholera was much
+talked of, and that very possibly, thanks to our impious presence, the
+plague might fall upon all our neighborhood."
+
+"But to tell such things to ignorant people," exclaimed Mother Bunch,
+"is likely to excite them to fatal actions."
+
+"That is just what the abbe wants."
+
+"What do you tell me?"
+
+"The people of the environs, still more excited, no doubt by other
+agitators, show themselves hostile to the workmen of our factory. Their
+hatred, or at least their envy, has been turned to account. Seeing
+us live all together, well lodged, well warmed, and comfortably clad,
+active, gay, and laborious, their jealousy has been embittered by the
+sermons, and by the secret manoeuvres of some depraved characters,
+who are known to be bad workmen, in the employment of M. Tripeaud, our
+opposition. All this excitement is beginning to bear fruit; there have
+been already two or three fights between us and our neighbors. It was in
+one of these skirmishes that I received a blow with a stone on my head."
+
+"Is it not serious, Agricola?--are you quite sure?" said Mother Bunch,
+anxiously.
+
+"It is nothing at all, I tell you. But the enemies of M. Hardy have not
+confined themselves to preaching. They have brought into play something
+far more dangerous."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"I, and nearly all my comrades, did our part in the three Revolutionary
+days of July; but we are not eager at present, for good reasons, to take
+up arms again. That is not everybody's opinion; well, we do not blame
+others, but we have our own ideas; and Father Simon, who is as brave as
+his son, and as good a patriot as any one, approves and directs us. Now,
+for some days past, we find all about the factory, in the garden, in the
+courts, printed papers to this effect: 'You are selfish cowards; because
+chance has given you a good master, you remain indifferent to the
+misfortunes of your brothers, and to the means of freeing them; material
+comforts have enervated your hearts.'"
+
+"Dear me, Agricola! what frightful perseverance in wickedness!"
+
+"Yes! and unfortunately these devices have their effect on some of
+our younger mates. As the appeal was, after all, to proud and generous
+sentiments, it has had some influence. Already, seeds of division have
+shown themselves in our workshops, where, before, all were united as
+brothers. A secret agitation now reigns there. Cold suspicion takes the
+place, with some, of our accustomed cordiality. Now, if I tell you that
+I am nearly sure these printed papers, thrown over the walls of our
+factory, to raise these little sparks of discord amongst us, have been
+scattered about by the emissaries of this same preaching abbe--would
+it not seem from all this, taken in conjunction with what happened this
+morning to the young lady, that M. Hardy has of late numerous enemies?"
+
+"Like you, I think it very fearful, Agricola," said the girl; "and it
+is so serious, that M. Hardy alone can take a proper decision on the
+subject. As for what happened this morning to the young lady, it appears
+to me, that, immediately on M. Hardy's return, you should ask for an
+interview with him, and, however delicate such a communication may be,
+tell him all that passed."
+
+"There is the difficulty. Shall I not seem as if wishing to pry into his
+secrets?"
+
+"If the young lady had not been followed, I should have shared your
+scruples. But she was watched, and is evidently in danger. It is
+therefore, in my opinion, your duty to warn M. Hardy. Suppose (which is
+not improbable) that the lady is married; would it not be better, for a
+thousand reasons, that M. Hardy should know all?"
+
+"You are right, my good sister; I will follow your advice. M. Hardy
+shall know everything. But now that we have spoken of others, I have to
+speak of myself--yes, of myself--for it concerns a matter, on which may
+depend the happiness of my whole life," added the smith, in a tone of
+seriousness, which struck his hearer. "You know," proceeded Agricola,
+after a moment's silence, "that, from my childhood, I have never
+concealed anything from you--that I have told you everything--absolutely
+everything?"
+
+"I know it, Agricola, I know it," said the hunchback, stretching out her
+white and slender hand to the smith, who grasped it cordially, and thus
+continued: "When I say everything, I am not quite exact--for I have
+always concealed from you my little love-affairs--because, though we may
+tell almost anything to a sister, there are subjects of which we ought
+not to speak to a good and virtuous girl, such as you are."
+
+"I thank you, Agricola. I had remarked this reserve on your part,"
+observed the other, casting down her eyes, and heroically repressing the
+grief she felt; "I thank you."
+
+"But for the very reason, that I made it a duty never to speak to you
+of such love affairs, I said to myself, if ever it should happen that I
+have a serious passion--such a love as makes one think of marriage--oh!
+then, just as we tell our sister even before our father and mother, my
+good sister shall be the first to be informed of it."
+
+"You are very kind, Agricola."
+
+"Well then! the serious passion has come at last. I am over head and
+ears in love, and I think of marriage."
+
+At these words of Agricola, poor Mother Bunch felt herself for an
+instant paralyzed. It seemed as if all her blood was suddenly frozen in
+her veins. For some seconds, she thought she was going to die. Her heart
+ceased to beat; she felt it, not breaking, but melting away to nothing.
+Then, the first blasting emotion over, like those martyrs who found, in
+the very excitement of pain, the terrible power to smile in the midst
+of tortures, the unfortunate girl found, in the fear of betraying the
+secret of her fatal and ridiculous love, almost incredible energy. She
+raised her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said
+to him in a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly love?"
+
+"That is to say, my good sister, that, for the last four days, I
+scarcely live at all--or live only upon this passion."
+
+"It is only since four days that you have been in love?"
+
+"Not more--but time has nothing to do with it."
+
+"And is she very pretty?"
+
+"Dark hair--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--blue eyes, as large
+as that--and as mild, as good as your own."
+
+"You flatter me, Agricola."
+
+"No, no, it is Angela that I flatter--for that's her name. What a pretty
+one! Is it not, my good Mother Bunch?"
+
+"A charming name," said the poor girl, contrasting bitterly that
+graceful appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless
+Agricola applied to her without thinking of it. Then she resumed, with
+fearful calmness: "Angela? yes, it is a charming name!"
+
+"Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this name is not only suited to
+her face, but to her heart. In a word, I believe her heart to be almost
+equal to yours."
+
+"She has my eyes--she has my heart," said Mother Bunch, smiling. "It is
+singular, how like we are."
+
+Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words.
+He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you
+think, my good girl, that I could ever have fallen seriously in love
+with any one, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?"
+
+"Come, brother," said the girl, smiling--yes, the unfortunate creature
+had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein
+to day. Where did you make the acquaintance of this beautiful young
+person?"
+
+"She is only the sister of one of my mates. Her mother is the head
+laundress in our common dwelling, and as she was in want of assistance,
+and we always take in preference the relations of members of the
+association, Mrs. Bertin (that's the mother's name) sent for her
+daughter from Lille, where she had been stopping with one of her aunts,
+and, for the last five days, she has been in the laundry. The first
+evening I saw her, I passed three hours, after work was over, in talking
+with her, and her mother and brother; and the next day, I felt that my
+heart was gone; the day after that, the feeling was only stronger--and
+now I am quite mad about her, and resolved on marriage--according as you
+shall decide. Do not be surprised at this; everything depends upon you.
+I shall only ask my father and mother's leave, after I have yours."
+
+"I do not understand you, Agricola."
+
+"You know the utter confidence I have in the incredible instinct of your
+heart. Many times, you have said to me: 'Agricola, love this person,
+love that person, have confidence in that other'--and never yet were you
+deceived. Well! you must now render me the same service. You will ask
+permission of Mdlle. de Cardoville to absent yourself; I will take you
+to the factory: I have spoken of you to Mrs. Benin and her daughter,
+as of a beloved sister; and, according to your impression at sight
+of Angela, I will declare myself or not. This may be childishness, or
+superstition, on my part; but I am so made."
+
+"Be it so," answered Mother Bunch, with heroic courage; "I will see
+Mdlle. Angela; I will tell you what I think of her--and that, mind you,
+sincerely."
+
+"I know it. When will you come?"
+
+"I must ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day she can spare sue. I will let
+you know."
+
+"Thanks, my good sister!" said Agricola warmly; then he added, with a
+smile: "Bring your best judgment with you--your full dress judgment."
+
+"Do not make a jest of it, brother," said Mother Bunch, in a mild, sad
+voice; "it is a serious matter, for it concerns the happiness of your
+whole life."
+
+At this moment, a modest knock was heard at the door. "Come in," said
+Mother Bunch. Florine appeared.
+
+"My mistress begs that you will come to her, if you are not engaged,"
+said Florine to Mother Bunch.
+
+The latter rose, and, addressing the smith, said to him: "Please wait a
+moment, Agricola. I will ask Mdlle. de Cardoville what day I can dispose
+of, and I will come and tell you." So saying, the girl went out, leaving
+Agricola with Florine.
+
+"I should have much wished to pay my respects to Mdlle. de Cardoville,"
+said Agricola; "but I feared to intrude."
+
+"My lady is not quite well, sir," said Florine, "and receives no one to
+day. I am sure, that as soon as she is better, she will be quite pleased
+to see you."
+
+Here Mother Bunch returned, and said to Agricola: "If you can come for
+me to-morrow, about three o'clock, so as not to lose the whole day, we
+will go to the factory, and you can bring me back in the evening."
+
+"Then, at three o'clock to-morrow, my good sister."
+
+"At three to-morrow, Agricola."
+
+The evening of that same day, when all was quiet in the hotel, Mother
+Bunch, who had remained till ten o'clock with Mdlle. de Cardoville, re
+entered her bedchamber, locked the door after her, and finding herself
+at length free and unrestrained, threw herself on her knees before a
+chair, and burst into tears. She wept long--very long. When her tears at
+length ceased to flow, she dried her eyes, approached the writing-desk,
+drew out one of the boxes from the pigeonhole, and, taking from this
+hiding-place the manuscript which Florine had so rapidly glanced over
+the evening before, she wrote in it during a portion of the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI. MOTHER BUNCH'S DIARY.
+
+We have said that the hunchback wrote during a portion of the night,
+in the book discovered the previous evening by Florine, who had not
+ventured to take it away, until she had informed the persons who
+employed her of its contents, and until she had received their final
+orders on the subject. Let us explain the existence of this manuscript,
+before opening it to the reader. The day on which Mother Bunch first
+became aware of her love for Agricola, the first word of this manuscript
+had been written. Endowed with an essentially trusting character, yet
+always feeling herself restrained by the dread of ridicule--a dread
+which, in its painful exaggeration, was the workgirl's only weakness--to
+whom could the unfortunate creature have confided the secret of that
+fatal passion, if not to paper--that mute confidant of timid and
+suffering souls, that patient friend, silent and cold, who, if it makes
+no reply to heart rending complaints, at least always listens, and never
+forgets?
+
+When her heart was overflowing with emotion, sometimes mild and sad,
+sometimes harsh and bitter, the poor workgirl, finding a melancholy
+charm in these dumb and solitary outpourings of the soul, now clothed in
+the form of simple and touching poetry, and now in unaffected prose,
+had accustomed herself by degrees not to confine her confidences to what
+immediately related to Agricola, for though he might be mixed up with
+all her thoughts, for reflections, which the sight of beauty, of happy
+love, of maternity, of wealth, of misfortune, called up within her, were
+so impressed with the influence of her unfortunate personal position,
+that she would not even have dared to communicate them to him. Such,
+then, was this journal of a poor daughter of the people, weak, deformed,
+and miserable, but endowed with an angelic soul, and a fine intellect,
+improved by reading, meditation, and solitude; pages quite unknown,
+which yet contained many deep and striking views, both as regard men and
+things, taken from the peculiar standpoint in which fate had placed
+this unfortunate creature. The following lines, here and there abruptly
+interrupted or stained with tears, according to the current of her
+various emotions, on hearing of Agricola's deep love for Angela, formed
+the last pages of this journal:
+
+"Friday, March 3d, 1832.
+
+"I spent the night without any painful dreams. This morning, I rose with
+no sorrowful presentiment. I was calm and tranquil when Agricola came.
+He did not appear to me agitated. He was simple and affectionate as
+he always is. He spoke to me of events relating to M. Hardy, and then,
+without transition, without hesitation, he said to me: 'The last four
+days I have been desperately in love. The sentiment is so serious, that
+I think of marriage. I have come to consult you about it.' That was how
+this overwhelming revelation was made to me--naturally and cordially--I
+on one side of the hearth, and Agricola an the other, as if we had
+talked of indifferent things. And yet no more is needed to break
+one's heart. Some one enters, embraces you like a brother, sits down,
+talks--and then--Oh! Merciful heaven! my head wanders.
+
+"I feel calmer now. Courage, my poor heart, courage!--Should a day of
+misfortune again overwhelm me, I will read these lines written under the
+impression of the most cruel grief I can ever feel, and I will say to
+myself: 'What is the present woe compared to that past?' My grief is
+indeed cruel! it is illegitimate, ridiculous, shameful: I should not
+dare to confess it, even to the most indulgent of mothers. Alas!
+there are some fearful sorrows, which yet rightly make men shrug their
+shoulders in pity or contempt. Alas! these are forbidden misfortunes.
+Agricola has asked me to go to-morrow, to see this young girl to whom he
+is so passionately attached, and whom he will marry, if the instinct of
+my heart should approve the marriage. This thought is the most painful
+of all those which have tortured me since he so pitilessly announced
+this love. Pitilessly? No, Agricola--no, my brother--forgive me this
+unjust cry of pain! Is it that you know, can even suspect, that I love
+you better than you love, better than you can ever love, this charming
+creature?
+
+"'Dark-haired--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--with blue eyes--as
+large as that--and almost as mild as your own.'
+
+"That is the portrait he drew of her. Poor Agricola! how would he have
+suffered, had he known that every one of his words was tearing my heart.
+Never did I so strongly feel the deep commiseration and tender pity,
+inspired by a good, affectionate being, who, in the sincerity of his
+ignorance, gives you your death-wound with a smile. We do not blame
+him--no--we pity him to the full extent of the grief that he would feel
+on learning the pain he had caused me. It is strange! but never did
+Agricola appear to me more handsome than this morning. His manly
+countenance was slightly agitated, as he spoke of the uneasiness of that
+pretty young lady. As I listened to him describing the agony of a woman
+who runs the risk of ruin for the man she loves, I felt my heart
+beat violently, my hands were burning, a soft languor floated over
+me--Ridiculous folly! As if I had any right to feel thus!
+
+"I remember that, while he spoke, I cast a rapid glance at the glass. I
+felt proud that I was so well dressed; he had not even remarked it; but
+no matter--it seemed to me that my cap became me, that my hair shone
+finely, my gaze beamed mild--I found Agricola so handsome, that I almost
+began to think myself less ugly--no doubt, to excuse myself in my own
+eyes for daring to love him. After all, what happened to-day would have
+happened one day or another! Yes, that is consoling--like the thoughts
+that death is nothing, because it must come at last--to those who are
+in love with life! I have been always preserved from suicide--the last
+resource of the unfortunate, who prefer trusting in God to remaining
+amongst his creatures--by the sense of duty. One must not only think
+of self. And I reflected also'God is good--always good--since the most
+wretched beings find opportunities for love and devotion.' How is it
+that I, so weak and poor, have always found means to be helpful and
+useful to some one?
+
+"This very day I felt tempted to make an end with life--Agricola and
+his mother had no longer need of me.--Yes, but the unfortunate creatures
+whom Mdlle. de Cardoville has commissioned me to watch over?--but my
+benefactress herself, though she has affectionately reproached me with
+the tenacity of my suspicions in regard to that man? I am more than ever
+alarmed for her--I feel that she is more than ever in danger--more than
+ever--I have faith in the value of my presence near her. Hence, I must
+live. Live--to go to-morrow to see this girl, whom Agricola passionately
+loves? Good heaven! why have I always known grief, and never hate? There
+must be a bitter pleasure in hating. So many people hate!--Perhaps I
+may hate this girl--Angela, as he called her, when he said, with so much
+simplicity: 'A charming name, is it not, Mother Bunch?' Compare this
+name, which recalls an idea so full of grace, with the ironical symbol
+of my witch's deformity! Poor Agricola! poor brother! goodness
+is sometimes as blind as malice, I see. Should I hate this young
+girl?--Why? Did she deprive me of the beauty which charms Agricola? Can
+I find fault with her for being beautiful? When I was not yet accustomed
+to the consequences of my ugliness, I asked myself, with bitter
+curiosity, why the Creator had endowed his creatures so unequally. The
+habit of pain has allowed me to reflect calmly, and I have finished by
+persuading myself, that to beauty and ugliness are attached the two most
+noble emotions of the soul--admiration and compassion. Those who are
+like me admire beautiful persons--such as Angela, such as Agricola--and
+these in their turn feel a couching pity for such as I am. Sometimes, in
+spite of one's self, one has very foolish hopes. Because Agricola, from
+a feeling of propriety had never spoken to me of his love affairs, I
+sometimes persuaded myself that he had none--that he loved me, and that
+the fear of ridicule alone was with him, as with me, an obstacle in the
+way of confessing it. Yes, I have even made verses on that subject--and
+those, I think, not the worst I have written.
+
+"Mine is a singular position! If I love, I am ridiculous; if any love
+me, he is still more ridiculous. How did I come so to forget that, as to
+have suffered and to suffer what I do?--But blessed be that suffering,
+since it has not engendered hate--no; for I will not hate this girl--I
+will Perform a sister's part to the last; I will follow the guidance of
+my heart; I have the instinct of preserving others--my heart will lead
+and enlighten me. My only fear is, that I shall burst into tears when
+I see her, and not be able to conquer my emotion. Oh, then! what
+a revelation to Agricola--a discovery of the mad love he has
+inspired!--Oh, never! the day in which he knew that would be the last of
+my life. There would then be within me something stronger than duty--the
+longing to escape from shame--that incurable shame, that burns me like a
+hot iron. No, no; I will be calm. Besides, did I not just now, when
+with him bear courageously a terrible trial? I will be calm. My personal
+feelings must not darken the second sight, so clear for those I love.
+Oh! painful--painful task! for the fear of yielding involuntarily to
+evil sentiments must not render me too indulgent toward this girl. I
+might compromise Agricola's happiness, since my decision is to guide his
+choice. Poor creature that I am. How I deceive myself! Agricola asks my
+advice, because he thinks that I shall have not the melancholy courage
+to oppose his passion; or else he would say to me: 'No matter--I love;
+and I brave the future!'
+
+"But then, if my advice, if the instincts of my heart, are not to guide
+him--if his resolution is taken beforehand--of what use will be
+to morrow's painful mission? Of what use? To obey him. Did he not
+say--'Come!' In thinking of my devotion for him, how many times, in the
+secret depths of my heart, I have asked myself if the thought had ever
+occurred to him to love me otherwise than as a sister; if it had ever
+struck him, what a devoted wife he would have in me! And why should
+it have occurred to him? As long as he wished, as long as he may still
+wish, I have been, and I shall be, as devoted to him, as if I were his
+wife, sister, or mother. Why should he desire what he already possesses?
+
+"Married to him--oh, God!--the dream is mad as ineffable. Are not such
+thoughts of celestial sweetness--which include all sentiments from
+sisterly to maternal love--forbidden to me, on pain of ridicule as
+distressing as if I wore dresses and ornaments, that my ugliness and
+deformity would render absurd? I wonder, if I were now plunged into the
+most cruel distress, whether I should suffer as much as I do, on hearing
+of Agricola's intended marriage? Would hunger, cold, or misery diminish
+this dreadful dolor?--or is it the dread pain that would make me forget
+hunger, cold, and misery?
+
+"No, no; this irony is bitter. It is not well in me to speak thus. Why
+such deep grief? In what way have the affection, the esteem, the respect
+of Agricola, changed towards me? I complain--but how would it be, kind
+heaven! if, as, alas! too often happens, I were beautiful, loving,
+devoted, and he had chosen another, less beautiful, less loving, less
+devoted?--Should I not be a thousand times more unhappy? for then I
+might, I would have to blame him--whilst now I can find no fault with
+him, for never having thought of a union which was impossible, because
+ridiculous. And had he wished it, could I ever have had the selfishness
+to consent to it? I began to write the first pages of this diary as I
+began these last, with my heart steeped in bitterness--and as I went on,
+committing to paper what I could have intrusted to no one, my soul grew
+calm, till resignation came--Resignation, my chosen saint, who, smiling
+through her tears, suffers and loves, but hopes--never!"
+
+These word's were the last in the journal. It was clear, from the blots
+of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to
+weep.
+
+In truth, worn out by so many emotions, Mother Bunch late in the night,
+had replaced the book behind the cardboard box, not that she thought it
+safer there than elsewhere (she had no suspicion of the slightest need
+for such precaution), but because it was more out of the way there than
+in any of the drawers, which she frequently opened in presence of other
+people. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily
+accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola,
+and firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's
+factory. Florine, informed of her departure, but detained a portion
+of the day in attendance on Mdlle. de Cardoville preferred waiting for
+night to perform the new orders she had asked and received, since she
+had communicated by letter the contents of Mother Bunch's journal.
+Certain not to be surprised, she entered the workgirls' chamber, as soon
+as the night was come.
+
+Knowing the place where she should find the manuscript, she went
+straight to the desk, took out the box, and then, drawing from her
+pocket a sealed letter, prepared to leave it in the place of the
+manuscript, which she was to carry away with her. So doing, she trembled
+so much, that she was obliged to support herself an instant by the
+table. Every good sentiment was not extinct in Florine's heart; she
+obeyed passively the orders she received, but she felt painfully
+how horrible and infamous was her conduct. If only herself had been
+concerned, she would no doubt have had the courage to risk all, rather
+than submit to this odious despotism; but unfortunately, it was not so,
+and her ruin would have caused the mortal despair of another person whom
+she loved better than life itself. She resigned herself, therefore, not
+without cruel anguish, to abominable treachery.
+
+Though she hardly ever knew for what end she acted, and this was
+particularly the case with regard to the abstraction of the journal,
+she foresaw vaguely, that the substitution of this sealed letter for
+the manuscript would have fatal consequences for Mother Bunch, for she
+remembered Rodin's declaration, that "it was time to finish with the
+young sempstress."
+
+What did he mean by those words? How would the letter that she was
+charged to put in the place of the diary, contribute to bring about
+this result? she did not know--but she understood that the clear-sighted
+devotion of the hunchback justly alarmed the enemies of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, and that she (Florine) herself daily risked having her
+perfidy detected by the young needlewoman. This last fear put an end to
+the hesitations of Florine; she placed the letter behind the box, and,
+hiding the manuscript under her apron, cautiously withdrew from the
+chamber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII. THE DIARY CONTINUED.
+
+Returned into her own room, some hours after she had concealed there the
+manuscript abstracted from Mother Bunch's apartment, Florine yielded
+to her curiosity, and determined to look through it. She soon felt a
+growing interest, an involuntary emotion, as she read more of these
+private thoughts of the young sempstress. Among many pieces of verse,
+which all breathed a passionate love for Agricola--a love so deep,
+simple, and sincere, that Florine was touched by it, and forgot the
+author's deformity--among many pieces of verse, we say, were divers
+other fragments, thoughts, and narratives, relating to a variety of
+facts. We shall quote some of them, in order to explain the profound
+impression that their perusal made upon Florine.
+
+Fragments from the Diary.
+
+"This is my birthday. Until this evening, I had cherished a foolish
+hope. Yesterday, I went down to Mrs. Baudoin's, to dress a little wound
+she had on her leg. When I entered the room, Agricola was there. No
+doubt he was talking of me to his mother, for they stopped when I came
+in, and exchanged a meaning smile. In passing by the drawers, I saw a
+pasteboard box, with a pincushion-lid, and I felt myself blushing
+with joy, as I thought this little present was destined for me, but
+I pretended not to see it. While I was on my knees before his mother,
+Agricola went out. I remarked that he took the little box with him.
+Never has Mrs. Baudoin been more tender and motherly than she was that
+morning. It appeared to me that she went to bed earlier than usual.
+'It is to send me away sooner,' said I to myself, 'that I may enjoy
+the surprise Agricola has prepared for me.' How my heart beat, as I ran
+fast, very fast, up to my closet! I stopped a moment before opening the
+door, that my happiness might last the longer. At last I entered the
+room, my eyes swimming with tears of joy. I looked upon my table, my
+chair, my bed--there was nothing. The little box was not to be found. My
+heart sank within me. Then I said to myself: 'It will be to-morrow--this
+is only the eve of my birthday.' The day is gone. Evening is come.
+Nothing. The pretty box was not for me. It had a pincushion-cover. It
+was only suited for a woman. To whom has Agricola given it?
+
+"I suffer a good deal just now. It was a childish idea that I connected
+with Agricola's wishing me many happy returns of the day. I am ashamed
+to confess it; but it might have proved to me, that he has not forgotten
+I have another name besides that of Mother Bunch, which they always
+apply to me. My susceptibility on this head is unfortunately so
+stubborn, that I cannot help feeling a momentary pang of mingled shame
+and sorrow, every time that I am called by that fairy-tale name, and
+yet I have had no other from infancy. It is for that very reason that I
+should have been so happy if Agricola had taken this opportunity to call
+me for once by my own humble name--Magdalen. Happily, he will never know
+these wishes and regrets!"
+
+Deeper and deeper touched by this page of simple grief, Florine turned
+over several leaves, and continued:
+
+"I have just been to the funeral of poor little Victorine Herbin, our
+neighbor. Her father, a journeyman upholsterer, is gone to work by the
+month, far from Paris. She died at nineteen, without a relation near
+her. Her agony was not long. The good woman who attended her to the
+last, told us that she only pronounced these words: 'At last, oh at
+last!' and that with an air of satisfaction, added the nurse. Dear
+child! she had become so pitiful. At fifteen, she was a rosebud--so
+pretty, so fresh-looking, with her light hair as soft as silk; but she
+wasted away by degrees--her trade of renovating mattresses killed her.
+She was slowly poisoned by the emanations from the wool.(26) They were
+all the worse, that she worked almost entirely for the poor, who have
+cheap stuff to lie upon.
+
+"She had the courage of a lion, and an angel's resignation, She always
+said to me, in her low, faint voice, broken by a dry and frequent cough:
+'I have not long to live, breathing, as I do, lime and vitriol all day
+long. I spit blood, and have spasms that make me faint.'
+
+"'Why not change your trade?' have I said to her.
+
+"'Where will I find the time to make another apprenticeship?' she would
+answer; 'and it is now too late. I feel that I am done for. It is not my
+fault,' added the good creature, 'for I did not choose my employment.
+My father would have it so; luckily he can do without me. And then, you
+see, when one is dead, one cares for nothing, and has no fear of "slop
+wages."'
+
+"Victorine uttered that sad, common phrase very sincerely, and with a
+sort of satisfaction. Therefore she died repeating: 'At last!'
+
+"It is painful to think that the labor by which the poor man earns his
+daily bread, often becomes a long suicide! I said this the other day to
+Agricola; he answered me that there were many other fatal employments;
+those who prepare aquafortis, white lead, or minium, for instance, are
+sure to take incurable maladies of which they die.
+
+"'Do you know,' added Agricola, 'what they say when they start for those
+fatal works?'--Why, 'We are going to the slaughter-house.'
+
+"That made me tremble with its terrible truth.
+
+"'And all this takes place in our day,' said I to him, with an aching
+heart; 'and it is well-known. And, out of so many of the rich and
+powerful, no one thinks of the mortality which decimates his brothers,
+thus forced to eat homicidal bread!'
+
+"'What can you expect, my poor sister,' answered Agricola. 'When men are
+to be incorporated, that they may get killed in war, all pains are taken
+with them. But when they are to be organized, so as to live in peace,
+no one cares about it, except M. Hardy, my master. People say, 'Pooh!
+hunger, misery, and suffering of the laboring classes--what is that to
+us? that is not politics.' 'They are wrong,' added Agricola; 'IT IS MORE
+THAN POLITICS.'
+
+"As Victorine had not left anything to pay for the church service, there
+was only the presentation of the body under the porch; for there is not
+even a plain mass for the poor. Besides, as they could not give eighteen
+francs to the curate, no priest accompanied the pauper's coffin to the
+common grave. If funerals, thus abridged and cut short, are sufficient
+in a religious point of view, why invent other and longer forms? Is it
+from cupidity?--If, on the other hand, they are not sufficient, why
+make the poor man the only victim of this insufficiency? But why trouble
+ourselves about the pomp, the incense, the chants, of which they are
+either too sparing or too liberal? Of what use? and for what purpose?
+They are vain, terrestrial things, for which the soul recks nothing,
+when, radiant, it ascends towards its Creator. Yesterday, Agricola made
+me read an article in a newspaper, in which violent blame and bitter
+irony are by turns employed, to attack what they call the baneful
+tendencies of some of the lower orders, to improve themselves, to write,
+to read the poets, and sometimes to make verses. Material enjoyments
+are forbidden us by poverty. Is it humane to reproach us for seeking the
+enjoyments of the mind? What harm can it do any one if every evening,
+after a day's toil, remote from all pleasure, I amuse myself, unknown to
+all, in making a few verses, or in writing in this journal the good or
+bad impressions I have received? Is Agricola the worse workman, because,
+on returning home to his mother, he employs Sunday in composing some of
+those popular songs, which glorify the fruitful labors of the artisan,
+and say to all, Hope and brotherhood! Does he not make a more worthy use
+of his time than if he spent it in a tavern? Ah! those who blame us for
+these innocent and noble diversions, which relieve our painful toils and
+sufferings, deceive themselves when they think, that, in proportion as
+the intellect is raised and refined, it is more difficult to bear with
+privations and misery, and that so the irritation increases against the
+luckier few.
+
+"Admitting even this to be the case--and it is not so--is it not better
+to have an intelligent, enlightened enemy, to whose heart and reason you
+may address yourself, than a stupid, ferocious, implacable foe? But no;
+enmities disappear as the mind becomes enlightened, and the horizon
+of compassion extends itself. We thus learn to understand moral
+afflictions. We discover that the rich also have to suffer intense
+pains, and that brotherhood in misfortune is already a link of sympathy.
+Alas! they also have to mourn bitterly for idolized children, beloved
+mistresses, reverend mothers; with them, also, especially amongst the
+women, there are, in the height of luxury and grandeur, many broken
+hearts, many suffering souls, many tears shed in secret. Let them not be
+alarmed. By becoming their equals in intelligence, the people will learn
+to pity the rich, if good and unhappy--and to pity them still more if
+rejoicing in wickedness.
+
+"What happiness! what a joyful day! I am giddy with delight. Oh, truly,
+man is good, humane, charitable. Oh, yes! the Creator has implanted
+within him every generous instinct--and, unless he be a monstrous
+exception, he never does evil willingly. Here is what I saw just now. I
+will not wait for the evening to write it down, for my heart would, as
+it were, have time to cool. I had gone to carry home some work that was
+wanted in a hurry. I was passing the Place du Temple. A few steps from
+me I saw a child, about twelve years old at most, with bare head, and
+feet, in spite of the severe weather, dressed in a shabby, ragged smock
+frock and trousers, leading by the bridle a large cart-horse, with his
+harness still on. From time to time the horse stopped short, and refused
+to advance. The child, who had no whip, tugged in vain at the bridle.
+The horse remained motionless. Then the poor little fellow cried out:
+'O dear, O dear!' and began to weep bitterly, looking round him as if
+to implore the assistance of the passers-by. His dear little face was
+impressed with so heart piercing a sorrow, that, without reflecting, I
+made an attempt at which I can now only smile, I must have presented so
+grotesque a figure. I am horribly afraid of horses, and I am still more
+afraid of exposing myself to public gaze. Nevertheless, I took courage,
+and, having an umbrella in my hand, I approached the horse, and with the
+impetuosity of an ant that strives to move a large stone with a little
+piece of straw, I struck with all my strength on the croup of the
+rebellious animal. 'Oh, thanks, my good lady!' exclaimed the child,
+drying his eyes: 'hit him again, if you please. Perhaps he will get up.'
+
+"I began again, heroically; but, alas! either from obstinacy or
+laziness, the horse bent his knees, and stretched himself out upon the
+ground; then, getting entangled with his harness, he tore it, and broke
+his great wooden collar. I had drawn back quickly, for fear of receiving
+a kick. Upon this new disaster, the child could only throw himself on
+his knees in the middle of the street, clasping his hands and sobbing,
+and exclaiming in a voice of despair: 'Help! help!'
+
+"The call was heard; several of the passers-by gathered round, and a
+more efficacious correction than mine was administered to the restive
+horse, who rose in a vile state, and without harness.
+
+"'My master will beat me,' cried the poor child, as his tears redoubled;
+'I am already two hours after time, for the horse would not go, and now
+he has broken his harness. My master will beat me, and turn me away. Oh
+dear! what will become of me! I have no father nor mother.'
+
+"At these words, uttered with a heart-rending accent, a worthy old
+clothes-dealer of the Temple, who was amongst the spectators, exclaimed,
+with a kindly air: 'No father nor mother! Do not grieve so, my poor
+little fellow; the Temple can supply everything. We will mend the
+harness, and, if my gossips are like me, you shall not go away
+bareheaded or barefooted in such weather as this.'
+
+"This proposition was greeted with acclamation; they led away both horse
+and child; some were occupied in mending the harness, then one supplied
+a cap, another a pair of stockings, another some shoes, and another
+a good jacket; in a quarter of an hour the child was warmly clad, the
+harness repaired, and a tall lad of eighteen, brandishing a whip, which
+he cracked close to the horse's ears, by way of warning, said to the
+little boy, who, gazing first at his new clothes, and then at the good
+woman, believed himself the hero of a fairy-tale. 'Where does your
+governor live, little 'un?'
+
+"'On the Quai du Canal-Saint-Martin, sir,' answered he, in a voice
+trembling with joy.
+
+"'Very good,' said the young man, 'I will help you take home the horse,
+who will go well enough with me, and I will tell the master that the
+delay was no fault of your'n. A balky horse ought not to be trusted to a
+child of your age.'
+
+"At the moment of setting out, the poor little fellow said timidly to
+the good dame, as he took off his cap to her: 'Will you let me kiss you,
+ma'am?'
+
+"His eyes were full of tears of gratitude. There was heart in that
+child. This scene of popular charity gave me delightful emotions. As
+long as I could, I followed with my eyes the tall young man and the
+child, who now could hardly keep up with the pace of the horse, rendered
+suddenly docile by fear of the whip.
+
+"Yes! I repeat it with pride; man is naturally good and helpful.
+Nothing could have been more spontaneous than this movement of pity and
+tenderness in the crowd, when the poor little fellow exclaimed: 'What
+will become of me? I have no father or mother!'
+
+"'Unfortunate child!' said I to myself. 'No father nor mother. In the
+hands of a brutal master, who hardly covers him with a few rags, and
+ill treats him into the bargain. Sleeping, no doubt in the corner of
+a stable. Poor little, fellow! and yet so mild and good, in spite of
+misery and misfortune. I saw it--he was even more grateful than pleased
+at the service done him. But perhaps this good natural disposition,
+abandoned without support or counsel, or help, and exasperated by bad
+treatment, may become changed and embittered--and then will come the age
+of the passions--the bad temptations--'
+
+"Oh! in the deserted poor, virtue is doubly saintly and respectable!
+
+"This morning, after having (as usual) gently reproached me for not
+going to mass, Agricola's mother said to me these words, so touching in
+her simple and believing mouth, 'Luckily, I pray for you and myself too,
+my poor girl; the good God will hear me, and you will only go, I hope,
+to Purgatory.'
+
+"Good mother; angelic soul! she spoke those words in so grave and mild
+a tone, with so strong a faith in the happy result of her pious
+intercession, that I felt my eyes become moist, and I threw myself on
+her neck, as sincerely grateful as if I had believed in Purgatory. This
+day has been a lucky one for me. I hope I have found work, which luck I
+shall owe to a young person full of heart and goodness, she is to take
+me to-morrow to St. Mary's Convent, where she thinks she can find me
+employment."
+
+Florine, already much moved by the reading, started at this passage in
+which Mother Bunch alluded to her, ere she continued as follows:
+
+"Never shall I forget with what touching interest, what delicate
+benevolence, this handsome young girl received me, so poor, and so
+unfortunate. It does not astonish me, for she is attached to the person
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville. She must be worthy to reside with Agricola's
+benefactress. It will always be dear and pleasant to me to remember
+her name. It is graceful and pretty as her face; it is Florine. I am
+nothing, I have nothing--but if the fervent prayers of a grateful heart
+might be heard, Mdlle. Florine would be happy, very happy. Alas! I am
+reduced to say prayers for her--only prayers--for I can do nothing but
+remember and love her!"
+
+These lines, expressing so simply the sincere gratitude of the
+hunchback, gave the last blow to Florine's hesitations. She could no
+longer resist the generous temptation she felt. As she read these last
+fragments of the journal, her affection and respect for Mother Bunch
+made new progress. More than ever she felt how infamous it was in her
+to expose to sarcasms and contempt the most secret thoughts of this
+unfortunate creature. Happily, good is often as contagious as evil.
+Electrified by all that was warm, noble, and magnanimous in the pages
+she had just read, Florine bathed her failing virtue in that pure and
+vivifying source, and, yielding, at last to one of those good impulses
+which sometimes carried her away, she left the room with the manuscript
+in her hand, determined, if Mother Bunch had not yet returned, to
+replace it--resolved to tell Rodin that, this second time, her search
+for the journal had been vain, the sempstress having no doubt discovered
+the first attempt.
+
+(26) In the Ruche Populaire, a working man's organ, are the following
+particulars:
+
+"Carding Mattresses.--The dust which flies out of the wool makes carding
+destructive to health in any case, but trade adulterations enhance the
+danger. In sticking sheep, the skin gets blood-spotted; it has to be
+bleached to make it salable. Lime is the main whitener, and some of it
+clings to the wool after the process. The dresser (female, most often)
+breathes in the fine dust, and, by lung and other complaints, is far
+from seldom deplorably situated; the majority sicken of it and give up
+the trade, while those who keep to it, at the very least, suffer with a
+catarrh or asthma that torments them until death.
+
+"As for horsehair, the very best is not pure. You can judge what the
+inferior quality is, from the workgirls calling it vitriol hair, because
+it is the refuse or clippings from goats and swine, washed in vitriol,
+boiled in dyes, etc., to burn and disguise such foreign bodies as straw.
+thorns, splinters, and even bits of skin, not worth picking out. The
+dust rising when a mass of this is beaten, makes as many ravages as the
+lime-wool."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII. THE DISCOVERY.
+
+A little while before Florine made up her mind to atone for her shameful
+breach of confidence, Mother Bunch had returned from the factory, after
+accomplishing to the end her painful task. After a long interview with
+Angela, struck, like Agricola, with the ingenuous grace, sense, and
+goodness, with which the young girl was endowed, Mother Bunch had the
+courageous frankness to advise the smith to enter into this marriage.
+The following scene took place whilst Florine, still occupied in reading
+the journal, had not yet taken the praiseworthy resolution of replacing
+it. It was ten o'clock at night. The workgirl, returned to Cardoville
+House, had just entered her chamber. Worn out by so many emotions, she
+had thrown herself into a chair. The deepest silence reigned in the
+house. It was now and then interrupted by the soughing of a high wind,
+which raged without and shook the trees in the garden. A single candle
+lighted the room, which was papered with dark green. That peculiar tint,
+and the hunchback's black dress, increased her apparent paleness. Seated
+in an arm-chair by the side of the fire, with her head resting upon her
+bosom, her hands crossed upon her knees, the work-girl's countenance
+was melancholy and resigned; on it was visible the austere satisfaction
+which is felt by the consciousness of a duty well performed.
+
+Like all those who, brought up in the merciless school of misfortune, no
+longer exaggerate the sentiment of sorrow, too familiar and assiduous
+a guest to be treated as a stranger, Mother Bunch was incapable of
+long yielding to idle regrets and vain despair, with regard to what
+was already past. Beyond doubt, the blow had been sudden, dreadful;
+doubtless it must leave a long and painful remembrance in the sufferer's
+soul; but it was soon to pass, as it were, into that chronic state of
+pain-durance, which had become almost an integral part of her life.
+And then this noble creature, so indulgent to fate, found still some
+consolations in the intensity of her bitter pain. She had been deeply
+touched by the marks of affection shown her by Angela, Agricola's
+intended: and she had felt a species of pride of the heart, in
+perceiving with what blind confidence, with what ineffable joy, the
+smith accepted the favorable presentiments which seemed to consecrate
+his happiness. Mother Bunch also said to herself: "At least, henceforth
+I shall not be agitated by hopes, or rather by suppositions as
+ridiculous as they were senseless. Agricola's marriage puts a term to
+all the miserable reveries of my poor head."
+
+Finally, she found a real and deep consolation in the certainty that
+she had been able to go through this terrible trial, and conceal from
+Agricola the love she felt for him. We know how formidable to this
+unfortunate being were those ideas of ridicule and shame, which she
+believed would attach to the discovery of her mad passion. After having
+remained for some time absorbed in thought, Mother Bunch rose, and
+advanced slowly towards the desk.
+
+"My only recompense," said she, as she prepared the materials for
+writing, "will be to entrust the mute witness of my pains with this new
+grief. I shall at least have kept the promise that I made to myself.
+Believing, from the bottom of my soul, that this girl is able to make
+Agricola happy, I told him so with the utmost sincerity. One day, a long
+time hence, when I shall read over these pages, I shall perhaps find in
+that a compensation for all that I now suffer."
+
+So saying, she drew the box from the pigeon-hole. Not finding her
+manuscript, she uttered a cry of surprise; but, what was her alarm, when
+she perceived a letter to her address in the place of the journal! She
+became deadly pale; her knees trembled; she almost fainted away. But her
+increasing terror gave her a fictitious energy, and she had the strength
+to break the seal. A bank-note for five hundred francs fell from the
+letter on the table, and Mother Bunch read as follows:
+
+"Mademoiselle,--There is something so original and amusing in reading in
+your memoirs the story of your love for Agricola, that it is impossible
+to resist the pleasure of acquainting him with the extent of it, of
+which he is doubtless ignorant, but to which he cannot fail to show
+himself sensible. Advantage will be taken to forward it to a multitude
+of other persons, who might, perhaps, otherwise be unfortunately
+deprived of the amusing contents of your diary. Should copies and
+extracts not be sufficient, we will have it printed, as one cannot
+too much diffuse such things. Some will weep--others will laugh--what
+appears superb to one set of people, will seem ridiculous to another,
+such is life--but your journal will surely make a great sensation. As
+you are capable of wishing to avoid your triumph, and as you were only
+covered with rags when you were received, out of charity into this
+house, where you wish to figure as the great lady, which does not suit
+your shape for more reasons than one, we enclose in the present five
+hundred francs to pay for your day-book, and prevent your being without
+resources, in case you should be modest enough to shrink from the
+congratulations which await you, certain to overwhelm you by to-morrow,
+for, at this hour, your journal is already in circulation.
+
+"One of your brethren,
+
+"A REAL MOTHER BUNCH."
+
+The vulgar, mocking, and insolent tone of this letter, which was
+purposely written in the character of a jealous lackey, dissatisfied
+with the admission of the unfortunate creature into the house, had
+been calculated with infernal skill and was sure to produce the effect
+intended.
+
+"Oh, good heaven!" were the only words the unfortunate girl could
+pronounce, in her stupor and alarm.
+
+Now, if we remember in what passionate terms she had expressed her love
+for her adopted brother, if we recall many passages of this manuscript,
+in which she revealed the painful wounds often inflicted on her by
+Agricola without knowing it, and if we consider how great was her
+terror of ridicule, we shall understand her mad despair on reading this
+infamous letter. Mother Bunch did not think for a moment of all the
+noble words and touching narratives contained in her journal. The one
+horrible idea which weighed down the troubled spirit of the unfortunate
+creature, was, that on the morrow Agricola, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and an
+insolent and mocking crowd, would be informed of this ridiculous love,
+which would, she imagined, crush her with shame and confusion. This new
+blow was so stunning, that the recipient staggered a moment beneath the
+unexpected shock. For some minutes, she remained completely inert
+and helpless; then, upon reflection, she suddenly felt conscious of a
+terrible necessity.
+
+This hospitable mansion, where she had found a sure refuge after so many
+misfortunes, must be left for ever. The trembling timidity and sensitive
+delicacy of the poor creature did not permit her to remain a minute more
+in this dwelling, where the most secret recesses of her soul had been
+laid open, profaned, and exposed no doubt to sarcasm and contempt.
+She did not think of demanding justice and revenge from Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. To cause a ferment of trouble and irritation in this house,
+at the moment of quitting it, would have appeared to her ingratitude
+towards her benefactress. She did not seek to discover the author or
+the motive of this odious robbery and insulting letter. Why should she,
+resolved, as she was, to fly from the humiliations with which she was
+threatened? She had a vague notion (as indeed was intended), that
+this infamy might be the work of some of the servants, jealous of the
+affectionate deference shown her by Mdlle. de Cardoville--and this
+thought filled her with despair. Those pages--so painfully confidential,
+which she would not have ventured to impart to the most tender and
+indulgent mother, because, written as it were with her heart's blood,
+they painted with too cruel a fidelity the thousand secret wounds of her
+soul--those pages were to serve, perhaps served even now, for the jest
+and laughing-stock of the lackeys of the mansion.
+
+The money which accompanied this letter, and the insulting way in which
+it was offered, rather tended to confirm her suspicions. It was intended
+that the fear of misery should not be the obstacle of her leaving the
+house. The workgirl's resolution was soon taken, with that calm and firm
+resignation which was familiar to her. She rose, with somewhat bright
+and haggard eyes, but without a tear in them. Since the day before, she
+had wept too much. With a trembling, icy hand, she wrote these words
+on a paper, which she left by the side of the bank-note: "May Mdlle. de
+Cardoville be blessed for all that she has done for me, and forgive me
+for having left her house, where I can remain no longer."
+
+Having written this, Mother Bunch threw into the fire the infamous
+letter, which seemed to burn her hands. Then, taking a last look at her
+chamber, furnished so comfortably, she shuddered involuntarily as she
+thought of the misery that awaited her--a misery more frightful than
+that of which she had already been the victim, for Agricola's mother
+had departed with Gabriel, and the unfortunate girl could no longer, as
+formerly, be consoled in her distress by the almost maternal affection
+of Dagobert's wife. To live alone--quite alone--with the thought that
+her fatal passion for Agricola was laughed at by everybody, perhaps even
+by himself--such were the future prospects of the hunchback. This future
+terrified her--a dark desire crossed her mind--she shuddered, and an
+expression of bitter joy contracted her features. Resolved to go, she
+made some steps towards the door, when, in passing before the fireplace,
+she saw her own image in the glass, pale as death, and clothed in black;
+then it struck her that she wore a dress which did not belong to her,
+and she remembered a passage in the letter, which alluded to the rags
+she had on before she entered that house. "True!" said she, with a heart
+breaking smile, as she looked at her black garments; "they would call me
+a thief."
+
+And, taking her candle, she entered the little dressing room, and put on
+again the poor, old clothes, which she had preserved as a sort of pious
+remembrance of her misfortunes. Only at this instant did her tears flow
+abundantly. She wept--not in sorrow at resuming the garb of misery, but
+in gratitude; for all the comforts around her, to which she was about
+to bid an eternal adieu, recalled to her mind at every step the delicacy
+and goodness of Mdlle. de Cardoville: therefore, yielding to an almost
+involuntary impulse, after she had put on her poor, old clothes, she
+fell on her knees in the middle of the room, and, addressing herself
+in thought to Mdlle. de Cardoville, she exclaimed, in a voice broken by
+convulsive sobs: "Adieu! oh, for ever, adieu!--You, that deigned to call
+me friend--and sister!"
+
+Suddenly, she rose in alarm; she heard steps in the corridor, which led
+from the garden to one of the doors of her apartment, the other door
+opening into the parlor. It was Florine, who (alas! too late) was
+bringing back the manuscript. Alarmed at this noise of footsteps, and
+believing herself already the laughing-stock of the house. Mother Bunch
+rushed from the room, hastened across the parlor, gained the court-yard,
+and knocked at the window of the porter's lodge. The house-door opened,
+and immediately closed upon her. And so the workgirl left Cardoville
+House.
+
+Adrienne was thus deprived of a devoted, faithful, and vigilant
+guardian. Rodin was delivered from an active and sagacious antagonist,
+whom he had always, with good reason, feared. Having, as we have seen,
+guessed Mother Bunch's love for Agricola, and knowing her to be a
+poet, the Jesuit supposed, logically enough that she must have written
+secretly some verses inspired by this fatal and concealed passion. Hence
+the order given to Florine, to try and discover some written evidence
+of this love; hence this letter, so horribly effective in its coarse
+ribaldry, of which, it must be observed, Florine did not know the
+contents, having received it after communicating a summary of the
+contents of the manuscript, which, the first time, she had only glanced
+through without taking it away. We have said, that Florine, yielding
+too late to a generous repentance, had reached Mother Bunch's apartment,
+just as the latter quitted the house in consternation.
+
+Perceiving a light in the dressing-room, the waiting-maid hastened
+thither. She saw upon a chair the black dress that Mother Bunch had just
+taken off, and, a few steps further, the shabby little trunk, open and
+empty, in which she had hitherto preserved her poor garments. Florine's
+heart sank within her; she ran to the secretary; the disorder of the
+card-board boxes, the note for five hundred francs left by the side
+of the two lines written to Mdlle. de Cardoville, all proved that her
+obedience to Rodin's orders had borne fatal fruit, and that Mother Bunch
+had quitted the house for ever. Finding the uselessness of her tardy
+resolution, Florine resigned herself with a sigh to the necessity of
+delivering the manuscript to Rodin. Then, forced by the fatality of her
+miserable position to console herself for evil by evil, she considered
+that the hunchback's departure would at least make her treachery less
+dangerous.
+
+Two days after these events, Adrienne received the following note from
+Rodin, in answer to a letter she had written him, to inform him of the
+work-girl's inexplicable departure:
+
+"MY DEAR YOUNG LADY;--Obliged to set out this morning for the factory of
+the excellent M. Hardy, whither I am called by an affair of importance,
+it is impossible for me to pay you my humble respects. You ask me what I
+think of the disappearance of this poor girl? I really do not know. The
+future will, I doubt not, explain all to her advantage. Only, remember
+what I told you at Dr. Baleinier's, with regard to a certain society and
+its secret emissaries, with whom it has the art of surrounding those
+it wishes to keep a watch on. I accuse no one; but let us only recall
+facts. This poor girl accused me; and I am, as you know, the most
+faithful of your servants. She possessed nothing; and yet five hundred
+francs were found in her secretary. You loaded her with favors; and
+she leaves your house without even explaining the cause of this
+extraordinary flight. I draw no conclusion, my dear young lady; I am
+always unwilling to condemn without evidence; but reflect upon all this,
+and be on your guard, for you have perhaps escaped a great danger.
+Be more circumspect and suspicious than ever; such at least is the
+respectful advice of your most obedient, humble servant,
+
+"Rodin."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX. THE TRYSTING-PLACE OF THE WOLVES.
+
+It was a Sunday morning the very day on which Mdlle. de Cardoville had
+received Rodin's letter with regard to Mother Bunch's disappearance.
+Two men were talking to together, seated at a table in one of the public
+houses in the little village of Villiers, situated at no great distance
+from Hardy's factory. The village was for the most part inhabited
+by quarrymen and stonecutters, employed in working the neighboring
+quarries. Nothing can be ruder and more laborious, and at the same time
+less adequately paid, than the work of this class of people. Therefore,
+as Agricola had told Mother Bunch, they drew painful comparisons
+between their condition, almost always miserable, and the comfort and
+comparative ease enjoyed by M. Hardy's workmen, thanks to his generous
+and intelligent management, and to the principles of association
+and community which he had put in practice amongst them. Misery and
+ignorance are always the cause of great evils. Misery is easily excited
+to anger, and ignorance soon yields to perfidious counsels. For a long
+time, the happiness of M. Hardy's workmen had been naturally envied, but
+not with a jealousy amounting to hatred. As soon, however, as the secret
+enemies of the manufacturer, uniting with his rival Baron Tripeaud,
+had an interest in changing this peaceful state of things--it changed
+accordingly.
+
+With diabolical skill and perseverance they succeeded in kindling the
+most evil passions. By means of chosen emissaries, they applied to those
+quarrymen and stonecutters of the neighborhood, whose bad conduct had
+aggravated their misery. Notorious for their turbulence, audacity, and
+energy, these men might exercise a dangerous influence on the majority
+of their companions, who were peaceful, laborious, and honest, but
+easily intimidated by violence. These turbulent leaders, previously
+embittered by misfortune, were soon impressed with an exaggerated idea
+of the happiness of M. Hardy's workmen, and excited to a jealous hatred
+of them. They went still further; the incendiary sermons of an abbe,
+a member of the Jesuits, who had come expressly from Paris to preach
+during Lent against M. Hardy, acted powerfully on the minds of the
+women, who filled the church, whilst their husbands were haunting
+the taverns. Profiting by the growing fear, which the approach of the
+Cholera then inspired, the preacher struck with terror these weak and
+credulous imaginations by pointing to M. Hardy's factory as a centre
+of corruption and damnation, capable of drawing down the vengeance of
+Heaven, and bringing the fatal scourge upon the country. Thus the men,
+already inflamed with envy, were still more excited by the incessant
+urgency of their wives, who, maddened by the abbe's sermons, poured
+their curses on that band of atheists, who might bring down so many
+misfortunes upon them and their children. Some bad characters, belonging
+to the factory of Baron Tripeaud, and paid by him (for it was a great
+interest the honorable manufacturer had in the ruin of M. Hardy), came
+to augment the general irritation, and to complete it by raising one
+of those alarming union-questions, which in our day have unfortunately
+caused so much bloodshed. Many of M. Hardy's workmen, before they
+entered his employ, had belonged to a society or union, called the
+Devourers; while many of the stonecutters in the neighboring quarries
+belonged to a society called the Wolves. Now, for a long time, an
+implacable rivalry had existed between the Wolves and Devourers, and
+brought about many sanguinary struggles, which are the more to be
+deplored, as, in some respects, the idea of these unions is excellent,
+being founded on the fruitful and mighty principle of association.
+But unfortunately, instead of embracing all trades in one fraternal
+communion, these unions break up the working-class into distinct and
+hostile societies, whose rivalry often leads to bloody collisions.(27)
+For the last week, the Wolves, excited by so many different
+importunities, burned to discover an occasion or a pretext to come
+to blows with the Devourers; but the latter, not frequenting the
+public-houses, and hardly leaving the factory during the week, had
+hitherto rendered such a meeting impossible, and the Wolves had been
+forced to wait for the Sunday with ferocious impatience.
+
+Moreover, a great number of the quarrymen and stonecutters, being
+peaceable and hard-working people, had refused, though Wolves themselves
+to join this hostile manifestation against the Devourers of M. Hardy's
+factory; the leaders had been obliged to recruit their forces from the
+vagabonds and idlers of the barriers, whom the attraction of tumult and
+disorder had easily enlisted under the flag of the warlike Wolves. Such
+then was the dull fermentation, which agitated the little village of
+Villiers, whilst the two men of whom we have spoken were at table in the
+public-house.
+
+These men had asked for a private room, that they might be alone. One of
+them was still young, and pretty well dressed. But the disorder in his
+clothes, his loose cravat, his shirt spotted with wine, his dishevelled
+hair, his look of fatigue, his marble complexion, his bloodshot eyes,
+announced that a night of debauch had preceded this morning; whilst
+his abrupt and heavy gesture, his hoarse voice, his look, sometimes
+brilliant, and sometimes stupid, proved that to the last fumes of the
+intoxication of the night before, were joined the first attacks of a
+new state of drunkenness. The companion of this man said to him, as he
+touched his glass with his own: "Your health, my boy!"
+
+"Yours!" answered the young man; "though you look to me like the devil."
+
+"I!--the devil?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"How did you come to know me?"
+
+"Do you repent that you ever knew me?"
+
+"Who told you that I was a prisoner at Sainte-Pelagie?"
+
+"Didn't I take you out of prison?"
+
+"Why did you take me out?"
+
+"Because I have a good heart."
+
+"You are very fond of me, perhaps--just as the butcher likes the ox that
+he drives to the slaughter-house."
+
+"Are you mad?"
+
+"A man does not pay a hundred thousand francs for another without a
+motive."
+
+"I have a motive."
+
+"What is it? what do you want to do with me?"
+
+"A jolly companion that will spend his money like a man, and pass every
+night like the last. Good wine, good cheer, pretty girls, and gay songs.
+Is that such a bad trade?"
+
+After he had remained a moment without answering, the young man replied
+with a gloomy air: "Why, on the eve of my leaving prison, did you attach
+this condition to my freedom, that I should write to my mistress to tell
+her that I would never see her again! Why did you exact this letter from
+me?"
+
+"A sigh! what, are you still thinking of her?"
+
+"Always."
+
+"You are wrong. Your mistress is far from Paris by this time. I saw
+her get into the stage-coach, before I came to take you out of Sainte
+Pelagie."
+
+"Yes, I was stifled in that prison. To get out, I would have given my
+soul to the devil. You thought so, and therefore you came to me; only,
+instead of my soul, you took Cephyse from me. Poor Bacchanal-Queen! And
+why did you do it? Thousand thunders! Will you tell me!"
+
+"A man as much attached to his mistress as you are is no longer a man.
+He wants energy, when the occasion requires."
+
+"What occasion?"
+
+"Let us drink!"
+
+"You make me drink too much brandy."
+
+"Bah! look at me!"
+
+"That's what frightens me. It seems something devilish. A bottle of
+brandy does not even make you wink. You must have a stomach of iron and
+a head of marble."
+
+"I have long travelled in Russia. There we drink to roast ourselves."
+
+"And here to only warm. So--let's drink--but wine."
+
+"Nonsense! wine is fit for children. Brandy for men like us!"
+
+"Well, then, brandy; but it burns, and sets the head on fire, and then
+we see all the flames of hell!"
+
+"That's how I like to see you, hang it!"
+
+"But when you told me that I was too much attached to my mistress, and
+that I should want energy when the occasion required, of what occasion
+did you speak?"
+
+"Let us drink!"
+
+"Stop a moment, comrade. I am no more of a fool than others. Your half
+words have taught me something.
+
+"Well, what?"
+
+"You know that I have been a workman, that I have many companions, and
+that, being a good fellow, I am much liked amongst them. You want me for
+a catspaw, to catch other chestnuts?"
+
+"What then?"
+
+"You must be some getter-up of riots--some speculator in revolts."
+
+"What next?"
+
+"You are travelling for some anonymous society, that trades in musket
+shots."
+
+"Are you a coward?"
+
+"I burned powder in July, I can tell you--make no mistakes!"
+
+"You would not mind burning some again?"
+
+"Just as well that sort of fireworks as any other. Only I find
+revolutions more agreeable than useful; all that I got from the
+barricades of the three days was burnt breeches and a lost jacket. All
+the cause won by me, with its 'Forward! March!' says."
+
+"You know many of Hardy's workmen?"
+
+"Oh! that's why you have brought me down here?"
+
+"Yes--you will meet with many of the workmen from the factory."
+
+"Men from Hardy's take part in a row? No, no; they are too well off for
+that. You have been sold."
+
+"You will see presently."
+
+"I tell you they are well off. What have they to complain of?"
+
+"What of their brethren--those who have not so good a master, and die
+of hunger and misery, and call on them for assistance? Do you think they
+will remain deaf to such a summons? Hardy is only an exception. Let the
+people but give a good pull all together, and the exception will become
+the rule, and all the world be happy."
+
+"What you say there is true, but it would be a devil of a pull that
+would make an honest man out of my old master, Baron Tripeaud, who made
+me what I am--an out-and-out rip."
+
+"Hardy's workmen are coming; you are their comrade, and have no interest
+in deceiving them. They will believe you. Join with me in persuading
+them--"
+
+"To what?"
+
+"To leave this factory, in which they grow effeminate and selfish, and
+forget their brothers."
+
+"But if they leave the factory, how are they to live?"
+
+"We will provide for that--on the great day."
+
+"And what's to be done till then?"
+
+"What you have done last night--drink, laugh, sing, and, by way of work,
+exercise themselves privately in the use of arms.'
+
+"Who will bring these workmen here?"
+
+"Some one has already spoken to them. They have had printed papers,
+reproaching them with indifference to their brothers. Come, will you
+support me?"
+
+"I'll support you--the more readily as I cannot very well support
+myself. I only cared for Cephyse in the world; I know that I am on a bad
+road; you are pushing me on further; let the ball roll!--Whether we
+go to the devil one way or the other is not of much consequence. Let's
+drink."
+
+"Drink to our next night's fun; the last was only apprenticeship."
+
+"Of what then are you made? I looked at you, and never saw you either
+blush or smile, or change countenance. You are like a man of iron."
+
+"I am not a lad of fifteen. It would take something more to make me
+laugh. I shall laugh to-night."
+
+"I don't know if it's the brandy; but, devil take me, if you don't
+frighten me when you say you shall laugh tonight!"
+
+So saying, the young man rose, staggering; he began to be once more
+intoxicated.
+
+There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" The host made his appearance.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"There's a young man below, who calls himself Olivier. He asks for M.
+Morok."
+
+"That's right. Let him came up." The host went out.
+
+"It is one of our men, but he is alone," said Morok, whose savage
+countenance expressed disappointment. "It astonishes me, for I expected
+a good number. Do you know him?"
+
+"Olivier? Yes--a fair chap, I think."
+
+"We shall see him directly. Here he is." A young man, with an open,
+bold, intelligent countenance, at this moment entered the room.
+
+"What! old Sleepinbuff!" he exclaimed, at sight of Morok's companion.
+
+"Myself. I have not seen you for an age, Olivier."
+
+"Simple enough, my boy. We do not work at the same place."
+
+"But you are alone!" cried Morok; and pointing to Sleepinbuff, he added:
+"You may speak before him--he is one of us. But why are you alone?"
+
+"I come alone, but in the name of my comrades."
+
+"Oh!" said Morok, with a sigh of satisfaction, "they consent."
+
+"They refuse--just as I do!"
+
+"What, the devil! they refuse? Have they no more courage than women?"
+cried Morok, grinding his teeth with rage.
+
+"Hark ye," answered Olivier, coolly. "We have received your letters,
+and seen your agent. We have had proof that he is really connected with
+great societies, many members of which are known to us."
+
+"Well! why do you hesitate?"
+
+"First of all, nothing proves that these societies are ready to make a
+movement."
+
+"I tell you they are."
+
+"He--tells you--they are," said Sleepinbuff, stammering "and I (hic!)
+affirm it. Forward! March!"
+
+"That's not enough," replied Olivier. "Besides, we have reflected upon
+it. For a week the factory was divided. Even yesterday the discussion
+was too warm to be pleasant. But this morning Father Simon called to
+him; we explained ourselves fully before him, and he brought us all to
+one mind. We mean to wait, and if any disturbance breaks out, we shall
+see."
+
+"Is that your final word?"
+
+"It is our last word."
+
+"Silence!" cried Sleepinbuff, suddenly, as he listened, balancing
+himself on his tottering legs. "It is like the noise of a crowd not far
+off." A dull sound was indeed audible, which became every moment more
+and more distinct, and at length grew formidable.
+
+"What is that?" said Olivier, in surprise.
+
+"Now," replied Morok, smiling with a sinister air, "I remember the host
+told me there was a great ferment in the village against the factory. If
+you and your other comrades had separated from Hardy's other workmen, as
+I hoped, these people who are beginning to howl would have been for you,
+instead of against you."
+
+"This was a trap, then, to set one half of M. Hardy's workmen against
+the other!" cried Olivier; "you hoped that we should make common cause
+with these people against the factory, and that--"
+
+The young man had not time to finish. A terrible outburst of shouts,
+howls, and hisses shook the tavern. At the same instant the door was
+abruptly opened, and the host, pale and trembling, hurried into the
+chamber, exclaiming: "Gentlemen! do any of you work at M. Hardy's
+factory?"
+
+"I do," said Olivier.
+
+"Then you are lost. Here are the Wolves in a body, saying there are
+Devourers here from M. Hardy's, and offering them battle--unless the
+Devourers will give up the factory, and range themselves on their side."
+
+"It was a trap, there can be no doubt of it!" cried Olivier, looking at
+Morok and Sleepinbuff, with a threatening air; "if my mates had come, we
+were all to be let in."
+
+"I lay a trap, Olivier?" stammered Jacques Rennepont. "Never!"
+
+"Battle to the Devourers! or let them join the Wolves!" cried the angry
+crowd with one voice, as they appeared to invade the house.
+
+"Come!" exclaimed the host. Without giving Olivier time to answer, he
+seized him by the arm, and opening a window which led to a roof at no
+very great height from the ground, he said to him: "Make your escape by
+this window, let yourself slide down, and gain the fields; it is time."
+
+As the young workman hesitated, the host added, with a look of terror:
+
+"Alone, against a couple of hundred, what can you do? A minute more, and
+you are lost. Do you not hear them? They have entered the yard; they are
+coming up."
+
+Indeed, at this moment, the groans, the hisses, and cheers redoubled
+in violence; the wooden staircase which led to the first story shook
+beneath the quick steps of many persons, and the shout arose, loud and
+piercing: "Battle to the Devourers!"
+
+"Fly, Olivier!" cried Sleepinbuff, almost sobered by the danger.
+
+Hardly had he pronounced the words when the door of the large room,
+which communicated with the small one in which they were, was burst open
+with a frightful crash.
+
+"Here they are!" cried the host, clasping his hands in alarm. Then,
+running to Olivier, he pushed him, as it were, out of the window; for,
+with one foot on the sill, the workman still hesitated.
+
+The window once closed, the publican returned towards Morok the instant
+the latter entered the large room, into which the leaders of the Wolves
+had just forced an entry, whilst their companions were vociferating in
+the yard and on the staircase. Eight or ten of these madmen, urged by
+others to take part in these scenes of disorder, had rushed first into
+the room, with countenances inflamed by wine and anger; most of them
+were armed with long sticks. A blaster, of Herculean strength and
+stature, with an old red handkerchief about his head, its ragged
+ends streaming over his shoulders, miserably dressed in a half-worn
+goat-skin, brandished an iron drilling-rod, and appeared to direct the
+movements. With bloodshot eyes, threatening and ferocious countenance,
+he advanced towards the small room, as if to drive back Morok, and
+exclaimed, in a voice of thunder:
+
+"Where are the Devourers?--the Wolves will eat 'em up!"
+
+The host hastened to open the door of the small room, saying: "There is
+no one here, my friends--no one. Look for yourselves."
+
+"It is true," said the quarryman, surprised, after peeping into the
+room; "where are they, then? We were told there were a dozen of them
+here. They should have marched with us against the factory, or there'd
+'a been a battle, and the Wolves would have tried their teeth!"
+
+"If they have not come," said another, "they will come. Let's wait."
+
+"Yes, yes; we will wait for them."
+
+"We will look close at each other."
+
+"If the Wolves want to see the Devourers," said Morok, "why not go and
+howl round the factory of the miscreant atheists? At the first howl of
+the Wolves they will come out, and give you battle."
+
+"They will give you--battle," repeated Sleepinbuff, mechanically.
+
+"Unless the Wolves are afraid of the Devourers," added Morok.
+
+"Since you talk of fear, you shall go with us, and see who's afraid!"
+cried the formidable blaster, and in a thundering voice, he advanced
+towards Morok.
+
+A number of voices joined in with, "Who says the Wolves are afraid of
+the Devourers?"
+
+"It would be the first time!"
+
+"Battle! battle! and make an end of it!"
+
+"We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so
+well off?"
+
+"They have said that quarrymen are brutes, only fit to torn wheels in a
+shaft, like dogs to turn spits," cried an emissary of Baron Tripeaud's.
+
+"And that the Devourers would make themselves caps with wolf-skin,"
+added another.
+
+"Neither they nor their wives ever go to mass. They are pagans and
+dogs!" cried an emissary of the preaching abbe.
+
+"The men might keep their Sunday as they pleased; but their wives not to
+go to mass!--it is abominable.
+
+"And, therefore, the curate has said that their factory, because of its
+abominations, might bring down the cholera to the country."
+
+"True? he said that in his sermon."
+
+"Our wives heard it."
+
+"Yes, yes; down with the Devourers, who want to bring the cholera on the
+country!"
+
+"Hooray, for a fight!" cried the crowd in chorus.
+
+"To the factory, my brave Wolves!" cried Morok, with the voice of a
+Stentor; "on to the factory!"
+
+"Yes! to the factory! to the factory!" repeated the crowd, with furious
+stamping; for, little by little, all who could force their way into the
+room, or up the stairs, had there collected together.
+
+These furious cries recalling Jacques for a moment to his senses, he
+whispered to Morok: "It is slaughter you would provoke? I wash my hands
+of it."
+
+"We shall have time to let them know at the factory. We can give these
+fellows the slip on the road," answered Morok. Then he cried aloud,
+addressing the host, who was terrified at this disorder: "Brandy!--let
+us drink to the health of the brave Wolves! I will stand treat." He
+threw some money to the host, who disappeared, and soon returned with
+several bottles of brandy, and some glasses.
+
+"What! glasses?" cried Morok. "Do jolly companions, like we are, drink
+out of glasses?" So saying, he forced out one of the corks, raised the
+neck of the bottle to his lips, and, having drunk a deep draught, passed
+it to the gigantic quarryman.
+
+"That's the thing!" said the latter. "Here's in honor of the
+treat!--None but a sneak will refuse, for this stuff will sharpen the
+Wolves' teeth!"
+
+"Here's to your health, mates!" said Morok, distributing the bottles.
+
+"There will be blood at the end of all this," muttered Sleepinbuff, who,
+in spite of his intoxication, perceived all the danger of these fatal
+incitements. Indeed, a large portion of the crowd was already quitting
+the yard of the public-house, and advancing rapidly towards M. Hardy's
+factory.
+
+Those of the workmen and inhabitants of the village, who had not chosen
+to take any part in this movement of hostility (they were the majority),
+did not make their appearance, as this threatening troop passed along
+the principal street; but a good number of women, excited to fanaticism
+by the sermons of the abbe, encouraged the warlike assemblage with
+their cries. At the head of the troop advanced the gigantic blaster,
+brandishing his formidable bar, followed by a motley mass, armed with
+sticks and stones. Their heads still warmed by their recent libations
+of brandy, they had now attained a frightful state of frenzy. Their
+countenances were ferocious, inflamed, terrible. This unchaining of
+the worst passions seemed to forbode the most deplorable consequences.
+Holding each other arm-in-arm, and walking four or five together, the
+Wolves gave vent to their excitement in war-songs, which closed with the
+following verse:
+
+"Forward! full of assurance! Let us try our vigorous arms! They have
+wearied out our prudence; Let us show we've no alarms. Sprung from a
+monarch glorious,(28) To-day we'll not grow pale, Whether we win the
+fight, or fail, Whether we die, or are victorious! Children of Solomon,
+mighty king, All your efforts together bring, Till in triumph we shall
+sing!"
+
+Morok and Jacques had disappeared whilst the tumultuous troop were
+leaving the tavern to hasten to the factory.
+
+(27) Let it be noted, to the working-man's credit, that such outrageous
+scenes become more and more rare as he is enlightened to the full
+consciousness of his worth. Such better tendencies are to be attributed
+to the just influence of an excellent tract on trades' union written
+by M. Agricole Perdignier, and published in 1841, Paris. This author, a
+joiner, founded at his own expense an establishment in the Faubourg St.
+Antoine, where some forty or fifty of his trade lodged, and were given,
+after the day's work, a course of geometry, etc., applied to wood
+carving. We went to one of the lectures, and found as much clearness
+in the professor as attention and intelligence in the audience. At ten,
+after reading selections, all the lodgers retire, forced by their scanty
+wages to sleep, perhaps, four in a room. M. Perdignier informed us that
+study and instruction were such powerful ameliorators, that, during
+six years, he had only one of his lodgers to expel. "In a few days,"
+he remarked, "the bad eggs find out, this is no place for them to addle
+sound ones!" We are happy to hear, reader, public homage to a learned
+and upright man, devoted to his fellow-workmen.
+
+(28) The Wolves (among others) ascribe the institution of their company
+to King Solomon. See the curious work by M. Agricole Perdignier, from
+which the war-song is extracted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L. THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE
+
+Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack on
+the Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air,
+perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind was
+from the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock had
+just struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separated
+from the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sun
+bathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league from
+Paris, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible the
+woody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city.
+Nothing could be plainer, and yet more cheerful than the aspect of the
+Common Dwelling-house of the workmen. Its slanting roof of red tiles
+projected over white walls, divided here and there by broad rows of
+bricks, which contrasted agreeably with the green color of the blinds on
+the first and second stories.
+
+These buildings, open to the south and east, were surrounded by a large
+garden of about ten acres, partly planted with trees, and partly laid
+out in fruit and kitchen-garden. Before continuing this description,
+which perhaps will appear a little like a fairy-tale, let us begin by
+saying, that the wonders, of which we are about to present the sketch,
+must not to be considered Utopian dreams; nothing, on the contrary,
+could be of a more positive character, and we are able to assert, and
+even to prove (what in our time is of great weight and interest),
+that these wonders were the result of an excellent speculation, and
+represented an investment as lucrative as it was secure. To undertake
+a vast, noble, and most useful enterprise; to bestow on a considerable
+number of human creatures an ideal prosperity, compared with the
+frightful, almost homicidal doom, to which they are generally condemned;
+to instruct them, and elevate them in their own esteem; to make them
+prefer to the coarse pleasures of the tavern, or rather to the fatal
+oblivion which they find there, as an escape from the consciousness
+of their deplorable destiny, the pleasures, of the intellect and the
+enjoyments of art; in a word, to make men moral by making them happy,
+and finally, thanks to this generous example, so easy of imitation, to
+take a place amongst the benefactors of humanity--and yet, at the same
+time to do, as it were, without knowing it, an excellent stroke of
+business--may appear fabulous. And yet this was the secret of the
+wonders of which we speak.
+
+Let us enter the interior of the factory. Ignorant of Mother Bunch's
+cruel disappearance, Agricola gave himself up to the most happy,
+thoughts as he recalled Angela's image, and, having finished dressing
+with unusual care, went in search of his betrothed.
+
+Let us say two words on the subject of the lodging, which the smith
+occupied in the Common Dwelling-house, at the incredibly low rate
+of seventy-five francs per annum like the other bachelors on the
+establishment. This lodging, situated on the second story, was comprised
+of a capital chamber and bedroom, with a southern aspect, and looking
+on the garden; the pine floor was perfectly white and clean; the iron
+bedstead was supplied with a good mattress and warm coverings; a gas
+burner and a warm-air pipe were also introduced into the rooms, to
+furnish light and heat as required; the walls were hung with pretty
+fancy papering, and had curtains to match; a chest of drawers, a walnut
+table, a few chairs, a small library, comprised Agricola's furniture.
+Finally, in the large and light closet, was a place for his clothes, a
+dressing table, and large zinc basin, with an ample supply of water.
+If we compare this agreeable, salubrious, comfortable lodging, with the
+dark, icy, dilapidated garret, for which the worthy fellow paid ninety
+francs at his mother's, and to get to which he had more than a league
+and a half to go every evening, we shall understand the sacrifice he
+made to his affection for that excellent woman.
+
+Agricola, after casting a last glance of tolerable satisfaction at his
+looking-glass, while he combed his moustache and imperial, quitted his
+chamber, to go and join Angela in the women's workroom. The corridor,
+along which he had to pass, was broad, well-lighted from above, floored
+with pine, and extremely clean. Notwithstanding some seeds of discord
+which had been lately sown by M. Hardy's enemies amongst his workmen,
+until now so fraternally united, joyous songs were heard in almost
+all the apartments which skirted the corridor, and, as Agricola passed
+before several open doors, he exchanged a cordial good-morrow with many
+of his comrades. The smith hastily descended the stairs, crossed
+the court yard, in which was a grass-plot planted with trees, with a
+fountain in the centre, and gained the other wing of the building. There
+was the workroom, in which a portion of the wives and daughters of the
+associated artisans, who happened not to be employed in the factory,
+occupied themselves in making up the linen. This labor, joined to the
+enormous saving effected by the purchase of the materials wholesale,
+reduced to an incredible extent the price of each article. After
+passing through this workroom, a vast apartment looking on the garden,
+well-aired in summer,(29) and well-warmed in winter, Agricola knocked at
+the door of the rooms occupied by Angela's mother.
+
+If we say a few words with regard to this lodging, situated on the first
+story, with an eastern aspect, and also looking on the garden, it is
+that we may tape it as a specimen of the habitation of a family in this
+association, supplied at the incredibly small price of one hundred and
+twenty-five francs per annum.
+
+A small entrance, opening on the corridor, led to a large room, on each
+side of which was a smaller chamber, destined for the family, when the
+boys and girls were too big to continue to sleep in the two dormitories,
+arranged after the fashion of a large school, and reserved for the
+children of both sexes. Every night the superintendence of these
+dormitories was entrusted to a father and mother of a family, belonging
+to the association. The lodging of which we speak, being, like all the
+others, disencumbered of the paraphernalia of a kitchen--for the
+cooking was done in common, and on a large scale, in another part of the
+building--was kept extremely clean. A pretty large piece of carpet,
+a comfortable arm-chair, some pretty-looking china on a stand of well
+polished wood, some prints hung against the walls, a clock of gilt
+bronze, a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mahogany secretary, announced
+that the inhabitants of this apartment enjoyed not only the necessaries,
+but some of the luxuries of life. Angela, who, from this time, might
+be called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering
+portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor
+Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed
+with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her
+mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if your
+mother has no objection."
+
+"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girl
+cordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with her
+father, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasure
+with you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, should
+do the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting for
+you an hour, and with such impatience!"
+
+"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking of
+the pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse."
+
+"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, and
+becoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?"
+
+"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Go
+with M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, what
+all the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy."
+
+"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what a
+pity that your good little adopted sister is not with us."
+
+"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only a
+pleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be the
+last."
+
+Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they went
+out together.
+
+"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I was
+surprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see so
+much misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I too
+have had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. It
+is really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask my
+mother the explanation of these wonders, she tells me, 'M. Agricola will
+explain it all to you.'"
+
+"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task,
+mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender.
+"Nothing could be more in season."
+
+"Why so, M. Agricola?"
+
+"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all the
+resources of our association, is to be able to say to you: 'Here, the
+workman, sure of the present, sure of the future, is not, like so many
+of his poor brothers, obliged to renounce the sweetest want of the
+heart--the desire of choosing a companion for life--in the fear of
+uniting misery to misery."'
+
+Angela cast down her eyes, and blushed.
+
+"Here the workman may safely yield to the hope of knowing the sweet joys
+of a family, sure of not having his heart torn hereafter by the sight
+of the horrible privations of those who are dear to him; here, thanks to
+order and industry, and the wise employment of the strength of all, men,
+women, and children live happy and contented. In a ward, to explain all
+this to you, mademoiselle," added Agricola, smiling with a still more
+tender air, "is to prove, that here we can do nothing more reasonable
+than love, nothing wiser than marry."
+
+"M. Agricola," answered Angela, in a slightly agitated voice, and
+blushing still more as she spoke, "suppose we were to begin our walk."
+
+"Directly, mademoiselle," replied the smith, pleased at the trouble
+he had excited in that ingenuous soul. "But, come; we are near the
+dormitory of the little girls. The chirping birds have long left their
+nests. Let us go there."
+
+"Willingly, M. Agricola."
+
+The young smith and Angela soon entered a spacious dormitory, resembling
+that of a first-rate boarding school. The little iron bedsteads were
+arranged in symmetrical order; at each end were the beds of the two
+mothers of families, who took the superintendence by turns.
+
+"Dear me! how well it is arranged, M. Agricola, and how neat and clean!
+Who is it that takes such good care of it?"
+
+"The children themselves; we have no servants here. There is an
+extraordinary emulation between these urchins--as to who shall make her
+bed most neatly, and it amuses them quite as much as making a bed for
+their dolls. Little girls, you know, delight in playing at keeping
+house. Well, here they play at it in good earnest, and the house is
+admirably kept in consequence."
+
+"Oh! I understand. They turn to account their natural taste for all such
+kinds of amusement."
+
+"That is the whole secret. You will see them everywhere usefully
+occupied, and delighted at the importance of the employments given
+them."
+
+"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, timidly, "only compare these fine
+dormitories, so warm and healthy, with the horrible icy garrets, where
+children are heaped pell-mell on a wretched straw-mattress, shivering
+with cold, as in the case with almost all the workmen's families in our
+country!"
+
+"And in Paris, mademoiselle, it is even worse."
+
+"Oh! how kind, generous, and rich must M. Hardy be, to spend so much
+money in doing good!"
+
+"I am going to astonish you, mademoiselle!" said Agricola, with a smile;
+"to astonish you so much, that perhaps you will not believe me."
+
+"Why so, M. Agricola?"
+
+"There is not certainly in the world a man with a better and more
+generous heart than M. Hardy; he does good for its own sake and without
+thinking of his personal interest. And yet, Mdlle. Angela, were he the
+most selfish and avaricious of men, he would still find it greatly to
+his advantage to put us in a position to be as comfortable as we are."
+
+"Is it possible, M. Agricola? You tell me so, and I believe it; but if
+good can so easily be done, if there is even an advantage in doing it,
+why is it not more commonly attempted?"
+
+"Ah! mademoiselle, it requires three gifts very rarely met with in the
+same person--knowledge, power and will."
+
+"Alas! yes. Those who have the knowledge, have not the power."
+
+"And those who have the power, have neither the knowledge nor the will."
+
+"But how does M. Hardy find any advantage in the good he does for you?"
+
+"I will explain that presently, mademoiselle."
+
+"Oh, what a nice, sweet smell of fruit!" said Angela, suddenly.
+
+"Our common fruit-store is close at hand. I wager we shall find there
+some of the little birds from the dormitory--not occupied in picking and
+stealing, but hard at work."
+
+Opening a door, Agricola led Angela into a large room, furnished with
+shelves, on which the winter fruits were arranged in order. A number
+of children, from seven to eight years old, neatly and warmly clad,
+and glowing with health, exerted themselves cheerfully, under the
+superintendence of a woman, in separating and sorting the spoiled fruit.
+
+"You see," said Agricola, "wherever it is possible, we make use of the
+children. These occupations are amusements for them, answering to the
+need of movement and activity natural to their age; and, in this way, we
+can employ the grown girls and the women to much better advantage."
+
+"True, M. Agricola; how well it is all arranged."
+
+"And if you saw what services the urchins in the kitchen render!
+Directed by one or two women, they do the work of eight or ten
+servants."
+
+"In fact," said Angela, smiling, "at their age, we like so much to play
+at cooking dinner. They must be delighted."
+
+"And, in the same way, under pretext of playing at gardening, they weed
+the ground, gather the fruit and vegetables, water the flowers, roll the
+paths, and so on. In a word, this army of infant-workers, who generally
+remain till ten or twelve years of age without being of any service,
+are here very useful. Except three hours of school, which is quite
+sufficient for them, from the age of six or seven their recreations are
+turned to good account, and the dear little creatures, by the saving of
+full-grown arms which they effect, actually gain more than they cost;
+and then, mademoiselle, do you not think there is something in the
+presence of childhood thus mixed up with every labor--something mild,
+pure, almost sacred, which has its influence on our words and actions,
+and imposes a salutary reserve? The coarsest man will respect the
+presence of children."
+
+"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is really
+designed for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration.
+
+"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquer
+prejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here we
+are at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing as
+that of a barrack or a public school?"
+
+Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house was
+immense. All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to the
+marvellous and economical inventions of modern science (which are always
+beyond the reach of the poorer classes, to whom they are most necessary,
+because they can only be practised on a large scale), not only the fire
+on the hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity of
+fuel that would have been consumed by each family individually, but the
+excess of the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes,
+to spread a mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. And
+here also children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerous
+services. Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in which
+they performed their culinary functions; it was the same with the
+assistance they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary saving
+in the price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellent
+household bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable to
+that whiter bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to some
+deleterious substance.
+
+"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, who
+was gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthy
+of Gamache's Wedding so heavily were they laden with pieces of beef,
+mutton, and veal, which began to assume a fine golden brown color of the
+most attractive kind; "good-day, Dame Bertrand. According to the rule,
+I do not pass the threshold of the kitchen. I only wish it to be admired
+by this young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us."
+
+"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good these
+brats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed with
+the long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen children
+of both sexes, seated round a table, and deeply absorbed in the exercise
+of their functions, which consisted in peeling potatoes and picking
+herbs.
+
+"We are, I see, to have a downright Belshazzar's feast, Dame Bertrand?"
+said Agricola, laughing.
+
+"Faith, a feast like we have always, my lad. Here is our bill of fare
+for to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad,
+fruit, cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts made
+by Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now."
+
+"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," said
+Agricola, gayly. "One soon knows when it is your turn in the kitchen,"
+added he, with a flattering air.
+
+"Get along, do!" said the female Soyer on service, merrily.
+
+"What astonishes me, so much, M. Agricola," said Angela, as they
+continued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient,
+unwholesome food of the workmen in our country, with that which is
+provided here."
+
+"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for much
+better food than we should get for three francs in Paris."
+
+"But really it is hard to believe, M. Agricola. How is it possible?"
+
+"It is thanks to the magic wand of M. Hardy. I will explain it all
+presently."
+
+"Oh! how impatient I am to see M. Hardy!"
+
+"You will soon see him--perhaps to-day; for he is expected every moment.
+But here is the refectory, which you do not yet know, as your family,
+like many others, prefer dining at home. See what a fine room, looking
+out on the garden, just opposite the fountain!"
+
+It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with ten
+windows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth,
+were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartment
+served in the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those who
+preferred to pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or with
+their families. Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantly
+lighted with gas, some read, some played cards, some talked, and some
+occupied themselves with easy work.
+
+"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you will
+like this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdays
+and Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays a
+concert-room."
+
+"Really!"
+
+"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians,
+quite capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearly
+all of us sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, this
+week, some disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented our
+concerts."
+
+"So many voices! that must be superb."
+
+"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged this
+amusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerful
+an effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for two
+pupils of the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has made
+great progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flattering
+ourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundred
+voices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hear
+it, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great
+and elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices,
+blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound."
+
+"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life of
+joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure."
+
+"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied
+Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed
+situation?"
+
+"Yes; what is it?"
+
+"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode
+of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have
+a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a
+manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two
+thirds of what he would have gained in health."
+
+"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side
+of the grass-plot?"
+
+"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under
+yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and
+the lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses."
+
+"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?"
+
+"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle."
+
+Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girl
+was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the
+garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common
+Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound
+of trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two
+horses, approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his
+appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail
+and crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after
+the fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery,
+the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet,
+with its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, and
+was crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for
+the marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and
+chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment
+Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela
+and Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang
+lightly to the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in
+livery, who followed also on horseback.
+
+"Where shall I wait for your grace?" asked the groom.
+
+"At the end of the avenue," said the marshal.
+
+And, uncovering his head respectfully, he advanced hastily with his
+hat in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had not
+previously perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue;
+he was an old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He wore
+a very neat blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With his
+hands in his pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe.
+
+"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as he
+affectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returned
+the pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay we
+are!" added he, with a smile.
+
+"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took the
+opportunity to call on you as soon as possible."
+
+"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do every
+Sunday?"
+
+"They are coming in a carriage, father, and Dagobert accompanies them."
+
+"But what is the matter? you appear full of thought."
+
+"Indeed, father," said the marshal, with a somewhat agitated air, "I
+have serious things to talk about."
+
+"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal and
+his father disappeared at the turn of the avenue.
+
+Angela had been struck with amazement at seeing this brilliant General,
+who was entitled "your grace," salute an old workman in a blouse as his
+father; and, looking at Agricola with a confused air she said to him:
+"What, M. Agricola! this old workman--"
+
+"Is the father of Marshal Duke de Ligny--the friend--yes, I may say the
+friend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twenty
+years served under him in war.'
+
+"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to his
+father!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but why
+does he let his father remain a workman?"
+
+"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory for
+anything in the world. He was born a workman, and he will die a workman,
+though he is the father of a duke and marshal of France."
+
+(29) See Adolphe Bobierre "On Air and Health," Paris, 1844.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI. THE SECRET.
+
+When the very natural astonishment which the arrival of Marshal Simon
+had caused in Angela had passed away, Agricola said to her with a smile:
+"I do not wish to take advantage of this circumstance, Mdlle. Angela,
+to spare you the account of the secret, by which all the wonders of our
+Common Dwelling-house are brought to pass."
+
+"Oh! I should not have let you forget your promise, M. Agricola,"
+answered Angela, "what you have already told me interests me too much
+for that."
+
+"Listen, then. M. Hardy, like a true magician, has pronounced three
+cabalistic words: ASSOCIATION--COMMUNITY--FRATERNITY. We have understood
+the sense of these words, and the wonders you have seen have sprung from
+them, to our great advantage; and also, I repeat, to the great advantage
+of M. Hardy."
+
+"It is that which appears so extraordinary, M. Agricola."
+
+"Suppose, mademoiselle, that M. Hardy, instead of being what he is, had
+only been a cold-hearted speculator, looking merely to the profit, and
+saying to himself: 'To make the most of my factory, what is needed?
+Good work--great economy in the raw material--full employment of the
+workman's time; in a word, cheapness of manufacture, in order to produce
+cheaply--excellence of the thing produced, in order to sell dear.'"
+
+"Truly, M. Agricola, no manufacturer could desire more."
+
+"Well, mademoiselle, these conditions might have been fulfilled, as they
+have been, but how? Had M. Hardy only been a speculator, he might have
+said: 'At a distance from my factory, my workmen might have trouble to
+get there: rising earlier, they will sleep less; it is a bad economy
+to take from the sleep so necessary to those who toil. When they get
+feeble, the work suffers for it; then the inclemency of the seasons
+makes it worse; the workman arrives wet, trembling with cold, enervated
+before he begins to work--and then, what work!'"
+
+"It is unfortunately but too true, M. Agricola. At Lille, when I reached
+the factory, wet through with a cold rain, I used sometimes to shiver
+all day long at my work."
+
+"Therefore, Mdlle. Angela, the speculator might say: 'To lodge
+my workmen close to the door of my factory would obviate this
+inconvenience. Let us make the calculation. In Paris the married workman
+pays about two hundred and fifty francs a-year,(30) for one or two
+wretched rooms and a closet, dark, small, unhealthy, in a narrow,
+miserable street; there he lives pell-mell with his family. What ruined
+constitutions are the consequence! and what sort of work can you expect
+from a feverish and diseased creature? As for the single men, they pay
+for a smaller, and quite as unwholesome lodging, about one hundred and
+fifty francs a-year. Now, let us make the addition. I employ one hundred
+and forty-six married workmen, who pay together, for their wretched
+holes, thirty-six thousand five hundred francs; I employ also one
+hundred and fifteen bachelors, who pay at the rate of seventeen thousand
+two hundred and eighty francs; the total will amount to about fifty
+thousand francs per annum, the interest on a million."'
+
+"Dear me, M. Agricola! what a sum to be produced by uniting all these
+little rents together!"
+
+"You see, mademoiselle, that fifty thousand francs a-year is a
+millionaire's rent. Now, what says our speculator: To induce our workmen
+to leave Paris, I will offer them, enormous advantages. I will reduce
+their rent one-half, and, instead of small, unwholesome rooms, they
+shall have large, airy apartments, well-warmed and lighted, at a
+trifling charge. Thus, one hundred and forty-six families, paying me
+only one hundred and twenty-five francs a-year, and one hundred
+and fifteen bachelors, seventy-five francs, I shall have a total of
+twenty-six to twenty-seven thousand francs. Now, a building large enough
+to hold all these people would cost me at most five hundred thousand
+francs.(31) I shall then have invested my money at five per cent at the
+least, and with perfect security, since the wages is a guarantee for the
+payment of the rent.'"
+
+"Ah, M. Agricola! I begin to understand how it may sometimes be
+advantageous to do good, even in a pecuniary sense."
+
+"And I am almost certain, mademoiselle, that, in the long run, affairs
+conducted with uprightness and honesty turn out well. But to return to
+our speculator. 'Here,' will he say, 'are my workmen, living close to
+my factory, well lodged, well warmed, and arriving always fresh at
+their work. That is not all; the English workman who eats good beef, and
+drinks good beer, does twice as much, in the same time, as the French
+workman,(32) reduced to a detestable kind of food, rather weakening than
+the reverse, thanks to the poisonous adulteration of the articles he
+consumes. My workmen will then labor much better, if they eat much
+better. How shall I manage it without loss? Now I think of it, what
+is the food in barracks, schools, even prisons? Is it not the union of
+individual resources which procures an amount of comfort impossible to
+realize without such an association? Now, if my two hundred and sixty
+workmen, instead of cooking two hundred and sixty detestable dinners,
+were to unite to prepare one good dinner for all of them, which might
+be done, thanks to the savings of all sorts that would ensue, what an
+advantage for me and them! Two or three women, aided by children, would
+suffice to make ready the daily repasts; instead of buying wood and
+charcoal in fractions,(33) and so paying for it double its value, the
+association of my workmen would, upon my security (their wages would be
+an efficient security for me in return), lay in their own stock of wood,
+flour, butter, oil, wine, etc., all which they would procure directly
+from the producers. Thus, they would pay three or four sous for a bottle
+of pure wholesome wine, instead of paying twelve or fifteen sous for
+poison. Every week the association would buy a whole ox, and some sheep,
+and the women would make bread, as in the country. Finally, with these
+resources, and order, and economy, my workmen may have wholesome,
+agreeable, and sufficient food, for from twenty to twenty-five sous a
+day.'"
+
+"Ah! this explains it, M. Agricola."
+
+"It is not all, mademoiselle. Our cool-headed speculator would continue:
+'Here are my workmen well lodged, well warmed, well fed, with a saving
+of at least half; why should they not also be warmly clad? Their health
+will then have every chance of being good, and health is labor. The
+association will buy wholesale, and at the manufacturing price (still
+upon my security, secured to me by their wages), warm, good, strong
+materials, which a portion of the workmen's wives will be able to make
+into clothes as well as any tailor. Finally, the consumption of caps and
+shoes being considerable, the association will obtain them at a great
+reduction in price.' Well, Mdlle. Angela! what do you say to our
+speculator?"
+
+"I say, M. Agricola," answered the young girl; with ingenuous
+admiration, "that it is almost incredible, and yet so simple!"
+
+"No doubt, nothing is more simple than the good and beautiful, and yet
+we think of it so seldom. Observe, that our man has only been speaking
+with a view to his own interest--only considering the material side of
+the question--reckoning for nothing the habit of fraternity and mutual
+aid, which inevitably springs from living together in common--not
+reflecting that a better mode of life improves and softens the character
+of man--not thinking of the support and instruction which the strong owe
+to the weak--not acknowledging, in fine, that the honest, active, and
+industrious man has a positive right to demand employment from
+society, and wages proportionate to the wants of his condition. No,
+our speculator only thinks of the gross profits; and yet, you see, he
+invests his money in buildings at five per cent., and finds the greatest
+advantages in the material comfort of his workmen."
+
+"It is true, M. Agricola."
+
+"And what will you say, mademoiselle, when I prove to you that our
+speculator finds also a great advantage in giving to his workmen, in
+addition to their regular wages, a proportionate share of his profits?"
+
+"That appears to me more difficult to prove, M. Agricola."
+
+"Yet I will convince you of it in a few minutes."
+
+Thus conversing, Angela and Agricola had reached the garden-gate of the
+Common Dwelling-house. An elderly woman, dressed plainly, but with care
+and neatness, approached Agricola, and asked him: "Has M. Hardy returned
+to the factory, sir?"
+
+"No, madame; but we expect him hourly."
+
+"To-day, perhaps?"
+
+"To-day or to-morrow, madame."
+
+"You cannot tell me at what hour he will be here?"
+
+"I do not think it is known, madame, but the porter of the factory,
+who also belongs to M. Hardy's private house, may, perhaps, be able to
+inform you."
+
+"I thank you, sir."
+
+"Quite welcome, madame."
+
+"M. Agricola," said Angela, when the woman who had just questioned him
+was gone, "did you remark that this lady was very pale and agitated?"
+
+"I noticed it as you did, mademoiselle; I thought I saw tears standing
+in her eyes."
+
+"Yes, she seemed to have been crying. Poor woman! perhaps she came to
+ask assistance of M. Hardy. But what ails you, M. Agricola? You appear
+quite pensive."
+
+Agricola had a vague presentiment that the visit of this elderly woman
+with so sad a countenance, had some connection with the adventure of the
+young and pretty lady, who, three days before had come all agitated and
+in tears to inquire after M. Hardy, and who had learned--perhaps too
+late--that she was watched and followed.
+
+"Forgive me, mademoiselle," said Agricola to Angela; "but the presence
+of this old lady reminded me of a circumstance, which, unfortunately, I
+cannot tell you, for it is a secret that does not belong to me alone."
+
+"Oh! do not trouble yourself, M. Agricola," answered the young girl,
+with a smile; "I am not inquisitive, and what we were talking of before
+interests me so much, that I do not wish to hear you speak of anything
+else."
+
+"Well, then mademoiselle, I will say a few words more, and you will be
+as well informed as I am of the secrets of our association."
+
+"I am listening, M. Agricola."
+
+"Let us still keep in view the speculator from mere interest. 'Here are
+my workmen, says he, 'in the best possible condition to do a great
+deal of work. Now what is to be done to obtain large profits? Produce
+cheaply, and sell dear. But there will be no cheapness, without economy
+in the use of the raw material, perfection of the manufacturing process,
+and celerity of labor. Now, in spite of all my vigilance, how am I to
+prevent my workmen from wasting the materials? How am I to induce them,
+each in his own province, to seek for the most simple and least irksome
+processes?"
+
+"True, M. Agricola; how is that to be done?"
+
+"'And that is not all,' says our man; 'to sell my produce at high
+prices, it should be irreproachable, excellent. My workmen do pretty
+well; but that is not enough. I want them to produce masterpieces.'"
+
+"But, M. Agricola, when they have once performed the task set them what
+interest have workmen to give themselves a great deal of trouble to
+produce masterpieces?"
+
+"There it is, Mdlle. Angela; what interest have they? Therefore, our
+speculator soon says to himself: 'That my workmen may have an interest
+to be economical in the use of the materials, an interest to employ
+their time well, an interest to invent new and better manufacturing
+processes, an interest to send out of their hands nothing but
+masterpieces--I must give them an interest in the profits earned by
+their economy, activity, zeal and skill. The better they manufacture,
+the better I shall sell, and the larger will be their gain and mine
+also.'"
+
+"Oh! now I understand, M. Agricola."
+
+"And our speculator would make a good speculation. Before he was
+interested, the workman said: 'What does it matter to me, that I do more
+or do better in the course of the day? What shall I gain by it? Nothing.
+Well, then, little work for little wages. But now, on the contrary
+(he says), I have an interest in displaying zeal and economy. All is
+changed. I redouble my activity, and strive to excel the others. If a
+comrade is lazy, and likely to do harm to the factory, I have the right
+to say to him: 'Mate, we all suffer more or less from your laziness, and
+from the injury you are doing the common weal.'"
+
+"And then, M. Agricola, with what ardor, courage, and hope, you must set
+to work!"
+
+"That is what our speculator counts on; and he may say to himself,
+further: 'Treasures of experience and practical wisdom are often buried
+in workshops, for want of goodwill, opportunity, or encouragement.
+Excellent workmen, instead of making all the improvements in their
+power, follow with indifference the old jog-trot. What a pity! for an
+intelligent man, occupied all his life with some special employment,
+must discover, in the long run, a thousand ways of doing his work better
+and quicker. I will form, therefore, a sort of consulting committee; I
+will summon to it my foremen and my most skillful workmen. Our interest
+is now the same. Light will necessarily spring from this centre of
+practical intelligence.' Now, the speculator is not deceived in this,
+and soon struck with the incredible resources, the thousand new,
+ingenious, perfect inventions suddenly revealed by his workmen, 'Why'
+he exclaims, 'if you knew this, did you not tell it before? What for the
+last ten years has cost me a hundred francs to make, would have cost
+me only fifty, without reckoning an enormous saving of time.' 'Sir,'
+answers the workman, who is not more stupid than others, 'what interest
+had I, that you should effect a saving of fifty per cent? None. But now
+it is different. You give me, besides my wages, a share in your
+profits; you raise me in my own esteem, by consulting my experience and
+knowledge. Instead of treating me as an inferior being, you enter into
+communion with me. It is my interest, it is my duty, to tell you all I
+know, and to try to acquire more.' And thus it is, Mdlle. Angela,
+that the speculator can organize his establishment, so as to shame
+his oppositionists, and provoke their envy. Now if, instead of a cold
+hearted calculator, we tape a man who unites with the knowledge of these
+facts the tender and generous sympathies of an evangelical heart, and
+the elevation of a superior mind, he will extend his ardent solicitude;
+not only to the material comfort, but to the moral emancipation, of
+his workmen. Seeking everywhere every possible means to develop their
+intelligence, to improve their hearts, and strong in the authority
+acquired by his beneficence, feeling that he on whom depends the
+happiness or the misery of three hundred human creatures has also the
+care of souls, he will be the guide of those whom he no longer calls his
+workmen, but his brothers, in a straightforward and noble path, and will
+try to create in them the taste for knowledge and art, which will render
+them happy and proud of a condition of life that is often accepted by
+others with tears and curses of despair. Well, Mdlle. Angela, such a man
+is--but, see! he could not arrive amongst us except in the middle of a
+blessing. There he is--there is M. Hardy!"
+
+"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, deeply moved, and drying her tears; "we
+should receive him with our hands clasped in gratitude."
+
+"Look if that mild and noble countenance is not the image of his
+admirable soul!"
+
+A carriage with post horses, in which was M. Hardy, with M. de Blessac,
+the unworthy friend who was betraying him in so infamous a manner,
+entered at this moment the courtyard of the factory.
+
+A little while after, a humble hackney-coach was seen advancing also
+towards the factory, from the direction of Paris. In this coach was
+Rodin.
+
+(30) The average price of a workman's lodging, composed of two small
+rooms and a closet at most, on the third or fourth story.
+
+(31) This calculation is amply sufficient, if not excessive. A similar
+building, at one league from Paris, on the side of Montrouge, with all
+the necessary offices, kitchen, wash-houses, etc., with gas and water
+laid on, apparatus for warming, etc., and a garden of ten acres, cost,
+at the period of this narrative, hardly five hundred thousand francs.
+An experienced builder less obliged us with an estimate, which confirms
+what we advance. It is, therefore, evident, that, even at the same
+price which workmen are in the habit of paying, it would be possible to
+provide them with perfectly healthy lodgings, and yet invest one's money
+at ten per cent.
+
+(32) The fact was proved in the works connected with the Rouen Railway.
+Those French workmen who, having no families, were able to live like the
+English, did at least as much work as the latter, being strengthened by
+wholesome and sufficient nourishment.
+
+(33) Buying penny-worths, like all other purchases at minute retail, are
+greatly to the poor man's disadvantage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII. REVELATIONS.
+
+During the visit of Angela and Agricola to the Common Dwelling-house,
+the band of Wolves, joined upon the road by many of the haunters
+of taverns, continued to march towards the factory, which the
+hackney-coach, that brought Rodin from Paris, was also fast approaching.
+M. Hardy, on getting out of the carriage with his friend, M. de Blessac,
+had entered the parlor of the house that he occupied next the factory.
+M. Hardy was of middle size, with an elegant and slight figure, which
+announced a nature essentially nervous and impressionable. His forehead
+was broad and open, his complexion pale, his eyes black, full at once
+of mildness and penetration, his countenance honest, intelligent, and
+attractive.
+
+One word will paint the character of M. Hardy. His mother had called him
+her Sensitive Plant. His was indeed one of those fine and exquisitely
+delicate organizations, which are trusting, loving, noble, generous, but
+so susceptible, that the least touch makes them shrink into themselves.
+If we join to this excessive sensibility a passionate love for art, a
+first-rate intellect, tastes essentially refined, and then think of the
+thousand deceptions, and numberless infamies of which M. Hardy must have
+been the victim in his career as a manufacturer, we shall wonder how
+this heart, so delicate and tender, had not been broken a thousand
+times, in its incessant struggle with merciless self-interest. M. Hardy
+had indeed suffered much. Forced to follow the career of productive
+industry, to honor the engagements of his father, a model of uprightness
+and probity, who had yet left his affairs somewhat embarrassed, in
+consequence of the events of 1815, he had succeeded, by perseverance
+and capacity, in attaining one of the most honorable positions in the
+commercial world. But, to arrive at this point, what ignoble annoyances
+had he to bear with, what perfidious opposition to combat, what hateful
+rivalries to tire out!
+
+Sensitive as he was, M. Hardy would a thousand times have fallen a
+victim to his emotions of painful indignation against baseness, of
+bitter disgust at dishonesty, but for the wise and firm support of his
+mother. When he returned to her, after a day of painful struggles
+with odious deceptions, he found himself suddenly transported into an
+atmosphere of such beneficent purity, of such radiant serenity, that he
+lost almost on the instant the remembrance of the base things by which
+he had been so cruelly tortured during the day; the pangs of his heart
+were appeased at the mere contact of her great and lofty soul; and
+therefore his love for her resembled idolatry. When he lost her, he
+experienced one of those calm, deep sorrows which have no end--which
+become, as it were, part of life, and have even sometimes their days
+of melancholy sweetness. A little while after this great misfortune, M.
+Hardy became more closely connected with his workmen. He had always been
+a just and good master; but, although the place that his mother left
+in his heart would ever remain void, he felt as it were a redoubled
+overflowing of the affections, and the more he suffered, the more he
+craved to see happy faces around him. The wonderful ameliorations, which
+he now produced in the physical and moral condition of all about him,
+served, not to divert, but to occupy his grief. Little by little, he
+withdrew from the world, and concentrated his life in three affections:
+a tender and devoted friendship, which seemed to include all past
+friendships--a love ardent and sincere, like a last passion--and a
+paternal attachment to his workmen. His days therefore passed in the
+heart of that little world, so full of respect and gratitude towards
+him--a world, which he had, as it were, created after the image of his
+mind, that he might find there a refuge from the painful realities he
+dreaded, surrounded with good, intelligent, happy beings, capable
+of responding to the noble thoughts which had become more and more
+necessary to his existence. Thus, after many sorrows, M. Hardy, arrived
+at the maturity of age, possessing a sincere friend, a mistress worthy
+of his love, and knowing himself certain of the passionate devotion
+of his workmen, had attained, at the period of this history, all the
+happiness he could hope for since his mother's death.
+
+M. de Blessac, his bosom friend, had long been worthy of his touching
+and fraternal affection; but we have seen by what diabolical means
+Father d'Aigrigny and Rodin had succeeded in making M. de Blessac, until
+then upright and sincere, the instrument of their machinations. The two
+friends, who had felt on their journey a little of the sharp influence
+of the north wind, were warming themselves at a good fire lighted in M.
+Hardy's parlor.
+
+"Oh! my dear Marcel, I begin really to get old," said M. Hardy, with a
+smile, addressing M. de Blessac; "I feel more and more the want of being
+at home. To depart from my usual habits has become painful to me, and I
+execrate whatever obliges me to leave this happy little spot of ground."
+
+"And when I think," answered M. de Blessac, unable to forbear blushing,
+"when I think, my friend, that you undertook this long journey only for
+my sake!--"
+
+"Well, my dear Marcel! have you not just accompanied me in your turn, in
+an excursion which, without you, would have been as tiresome as it has
+been charming?"
+
+"What a difference, my friend! I have contracted towards you a debt that
+I can never repay."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear Marcel! Between us, there are no distinctions of meum
+and tuum. Besides, in matters of friendship, it is as sweet to give as
+to receive."
+
+"Noble heart! noble heart!"
+
+"Say, happy heart!--most happy, in the last affections for which it
+beats."
+
+"And who, gracious heaven! could deserve happiness on earth, if it be
+not you, my friend?"
+
+"And to what do I owe that happiness? To the affections which I found
+here, ready to sustain me, when deprived of the support of my mother,
+who was all my strength, I felt myself (I confess my weakness) almost
+incapable of standing up against adversity."
+
+"You, my friend--with so firm and resolute a character in doing
+good--you, that I have seen struggle with so much energy and courage, to
+secure the triumph of some great and noble idea?"
+
+"Yes; but the farther I advance in my career, the more am I disgusted
+with all base and shameful actions, and the less strength I feel to
+encounter them--"
+
+"Were it necessary, you would have the courage, my friend."
+
+"My dear Marcel," replied M. Hardy, with mild and restrained emotion,
+"I have often said to you: My courage was my mother. You see, my friend,
+when I went to her, with my heart torn by some horrible ingratitude,
+or disgusted by some base deceit, she, taking my hands between her own
+venerable palms, would say to me in her grave and tender voice: 'My dear
+child, it is for the ungrateful and dishonest to suffer; let us pity the
+wicked, let us forget evil, and only think of good.'--Then, my friend,
+this heart, painfully contracted, expanded beneath the sacred influence
+of the maternal words, and every day I gathered strength from her, to
+recommence on the morrow a cruel struggle with the sad necessities of my
+condition. Happily, it has pleased God, that, after losing that beloved
+mother, I have been able to bind up my life with affections, deprived
+of which, I confess, I should find myself feeble and disarmed for you
+cannot tell, Marcel, the support, the strength that I have found in your
+friendship."
+
+"Do not speak of me, my dear friend," replied M. de Blessac, dissembling
+his embarrassment. "Let us talk of another affection, almost as sweet
+and tender as that of a mother."
+
+"I understand you, my good Marcel," replied M. Hardy: "I have concealed
+nothing from you since, under such serious circumstances, I had recourse
+to the counsels of your friendship. Well! yes; I think that every day I
+live augment my adoration for this woman, the only one that I have ever
+passionately loved, the only one that I shall now ever love. And then I
+must tell you, that my mother, not knowing what Margaret was to me, as
+often loud in her praise, and that circumstance renders this love almost
+sacred in my eyes."
+
+"And then there are such strange resemblances between Mme. de Noisy's
+character and yours, my friend; above all, in her worship of her
+mother."
+
+"It is true, Marcel; that affection has often caused me both admiration
+and torment. How often she has said to me, with her habitual frankness:
+'I have sacrificed all for you, but I would sacrifice you for my
+mother.'"
+
+"Thank heaven, my friend, you will never see Mme. de Noisy exposed to
+that cruel choice. Her mother, you say, has long renounced her intention
+of returning to America, where M. de Noisy, perfectly careless of
+his wife, appears to have settled himself permanently. Thanks to the
+discreet devotion of the excellent woman by whom Margaret was brought
+up, your love is concealed in the deepest mystery. What could disturb it
+now?"
+
+"Nothing--oh! nothing," cried M. Hardy. "I have almost security for its
+duration."
+
+"What do you mean, my friend?"
+
+"I do not know if I ought to tell you."
+
+"Have you ever found me indiscreet, my friend?"
+
+"You, good Marcel! how can you suppose such a thing?" said M. Hardy, in
+a tone of friendly reproach; "no! but I do not like to tell you of my
+happiness, till it is complete; and I am not yet quite certain--"
+
+A servant entered at this moment and said to M. Hardy: "Sir, there is an
+old gentleman who wishes to speak to you on very pressing business."
+
+"So soon!" said M. Hardy, with a slight movement of impatience. "With
+your permission, my friend." Then, as M. de Blessac seemed about to
+withdraw into the next room, M. Hardy added with a smile: "No, no; do
+not stir. Your presence will shorten the interview."
+
+"But if it be a matter of business, my friend?"
+
+"I do everything openly, as you know." Then, addressing the servant, M.
+Hardy bade him: "Ask the gentleman to walk in."
+
+"The postilion wishes to know if he is to wait?"
+
+"Certainly: he will take M. de Blessac back to Paris."
+
+The servant withdrew, and presently returned, introducing Rodin, with
+whom M. de Blessac was not acquainted, his treacherous bargain having
+been negotiated through another agent.
+
+"M. Hardy?" said Rodin, bowing respectfully to the two friends, and
+looking from one to the other with an air of inquiry.
+
+"That is my name, sir; what can I do to serve you?" answered the
+manufacturer, kindly; for, at first sight of the humble and ill-dressed
+old man, he expected an application for assistance.
+
+"M. Francois Hardy," repeated Rodin, as if he wished to make sure of the
+identity of the person.
+
+"I have had the honor to tell you that I am he."
+
+"I have a private communication to make to you, sir," said Rodin.
+
+"You may speak, sir. This gentleman is my friend," said M. Hardy,
+pointing to M. de Blessac.
+
+"But I wish to speak to you alone, sir," resumed Rodin.
+
+M. de Blessac was again about to withdraw, when M. Hardy retained him
+with a glance, and said to Rodin kindly, for he thought his feelings
+might be hurt by asking a favor in presence of a third party: "Permit
+me to inquire if it is on your account or on mine, that you wish this
+interview to be secret?"
+
+"On your account entirely, sir," answered Rodin.
+
+"Then, sir," said M. Hardy, with some surprise, "you may speak out. I
+have no secrets from this gentleman."
+
+After a moment's silence, Rodin resumed, addressing himself to M. Hardy:
+"Sir, you deserve, I know, all the good that is said of you; and you
+therefore command the sympathy of every honest man."
+
+"I hope so, sir."
+
+"Now, as an honest man, I come to render you a service."
+
+"And this service, sir--"
+
+"To reveal to you an infamous piece of treachery, of which you have been
+the victim."
+
+"I think, sir, you must be deceived."
+
+"I have the proofs of what I assert."
+
+"Proofs?"
+
+"The written proofs of the treachery that I come to reveal: I have them
+here," answered Rodin "In a word, a man whom you believed your friend,
+has shamefully deceived you, sir."
+
+"And the name of this man?"
+
+"M. Marcel de Blessac," replied Rodin.
+
+On these words, M. de Blessac started, and became pale as death. He
+could hardly murmur: "Sir--"
+
+But, without looking at his friend, or perceiving his agitation, M.
+Hardy seized his hand, and exclaimed hastily: "Silence, my friend!"
+Then, whilst his eye flashed with indignation, he turned towards Rodin,
+who had not ceased to look him full in the face, and said to him, with
+an air of lofty disdain: "What! do you accuse M. de Blessac?"
+
+"Yes, I accuse him," replied Rodin, briefly.
+
+"Do you know him?"
+
+"I have never seen him."
+
+"Of what do you accuse him? And how dare you say that he has betrayed
+me?"
+
+"Two words, if you please," said Rodin, with an emotion which he
+appeared hardly able to restrain. "If one man of honor sees another
+about to be slain by an assassin, ought he not give the alarm of
+murder?"
+
+"Yes, sir; but what has that to do--"
+
+"In my eyes, sir, certain treasons are as criminal as murders: I have
+come to place myself between the assassin and his victim."
+
+"The assassin? the victim?" said M. Hardy more and more astonished.
+
+"You doubtless know M. de Blessac's writing?" said Rodin.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then read this," said Rodin, drawing from his pocket a letter, which he
+handed to M. Hardy.
+
+Casting now for the first time a glance at M. de Blessac, the
+manufacturer drew back a step, terrified at the death-like paleness of
+this man, who, struck dumb with shame, could not find a word to justify
+himself; for he was far from possessing the audacious effrontery
+necessary to carry him through his treachery.
+
+"Marcel!" cried M. Hardy, in alarm, and deeply agitated by this
+unexpected blow. "Marcel! how pale you are! you do not answer!"
+
+"Marcel! this, then, is M. de Blessac?" cried Rodin, feigning the most
+painful surprise. "Oh, sir, if I had known--"
+
+"But don't you hear this man, Marcel?" cried M. Hardy. "He says that you
+have betrayed me infamously." He seized the hand of M. de Blessac. That
+hand was cold as ice. "Oh, God! Oh God!" said M. Hardy, drawing back in
+horror: "he makes no answer!"
+
+"Since I am in presence of M. de Blessac," resumed Rodin, "I am forced
+to ask him, if he can deny having addressed many letters to the Rue du
+Milieu des Ursins, at Paris under cover of M. Rodin."
+
+M. de Blessac remained dumb. M. Hardy, still unwilling to believe what
+he saw and heard, convulsively tore open the letter, which Rodin had
+just delivered to him, and read the first few lines--interrupting the
+perusal with exclamations of grief and amazement. He did not require to
+finish the letter, to convince himself of the black treachery of M. de
+Blessac. He staggered; for a moment his senses seemed to abandon him.
+The horrible discovery made him giddy, and his head swam on his first
+look down into that abyss of infamy. The loathsome letter dropped from
+his trembling hands. But soon indignation, rage, and scorn succeeded
+this moment of despair, and rushing, pale and terrible, upon M. de
+Blessac: "Wretch!" he exclaimed, with a threatening gesture. But,
+pausing as in the act to strike: "No!" he added, with fearful calmness.
+"It would be to soil my hands."
+
+He turned towards Rodin, who had approached hastily, as if to interpose.
+"It is not worth while chastising a wretch," said M. Hardy; "But I will
+press your honest hand, sir--for you have had the courage to unmask a
+traitor and a coward."
+
+"Sir!" cried M. de Blessac, overcome with shame; "I am at your
+orders--and--"
+
+He could not finish. The sound of voices was heard behind the door,
+which opened violently, and an aged woman entered, in spite of the
+efforts of the servant, exclaiming in an agitated voice: "I tell you, I
+must speak instantly to your master."
+
+On hearing this voice, and at sight of the pale, weeping woman, M.
+Hardy, forgetting M. de Blessac, Rodin, the infamous treachery, and all,
+fell back a step, and exclaimed: "Madame Duparc! you here! What is the
+matter?"
+
+"Oh, sir! a great misfortune--"
+
+"Margaret!" cried M. Hardy, in a tone of despair.
+
+"She is gone, sir!"
+
+"Gone!" repeated M. Hardy, as horror-struck as if a thunderbolt had
+fallen at his feet. "Margaret gone!"
+
+"All is discovered. Her mother took her away--three days ago!" said the
+unhappy woman, in a failing voice.
+
+"Gone! Margaret! It is not true. You deceive me," cried M. Hardy.
+Refusing to hear more, wild, despairing, he rushed out of the house,
+threw himself into his carriage, to which the post-horses were still
+harnessed, waiting for M. de Blessac, and said to the postilion: "To
+Paris! as fast as you can go!"
+
+As the carriage, rapid as lightning, started upon the road to Paris, the
+wind brought nearer the distant sound of the war-song of the Wolves,
+who were rushing towards the factory. In this impending destruction, see
+Rodin's subtle hand, administering his fatal blows to clear his way up
+to the chair of St. Peter to which he aspired. His tireless, wily course
+can hardly be darker shadowed by aught save that dread coming horror
+the Cholera, whose aid he evoked, and whose health the Bacchanal Queen
+wildly drank.
+
+That once gay girl, and her poor famished sister; the fair patrician and
+her Oriental lover; Agricola, the workman, and his veteran father; the
+smiling Rose-Pompon, and the prematurely withered Jacques Rennepont;
+Father d'Aigrigny, the mock priest; and Gabriel, the true disciple;
+with the rest that have been named and others yet to be pictured, in the
+blaze of the bolts of their life's paths, will be seen in the third and
+concluding part of this romance entitled,
+
+"THE WANDERING JEW: REDEMPTION."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VIII.
+
+
+
+
+PART THIRD.--THE REDEMPTION.
+
+
+     I. The Wandering Jew's Chastisement II. The Descendants of
+     the Wandering Jew III. The Attack IV. The Wolves and the
+     Devourers V. The Return VI. The Go-Between VII. Another
+     Secret VIII. The Confession IX. Love X. The Execution XI.
+     The Champs-Elysees XII. Behind the Scenes XIII. Up with the
+     Curtain XIV. Death
+
+
+
+
+PART THIRD.--THE REDEMPTION.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE WANDERING JEW'S CHASTISEMENT.
+
+'Tis night--the moon is brightly shining, the brilliant stars are
+sparkling in a sky of melancholy calmness, the shrill whistlings of a
+northerly wind--cold, bleak, and evil-bearing--are increasing: winding
+about, and bursting into violent blasts, with their harsh and hissing
+gusts, they are sweeping the heights of Montmartre. A man is standing
+on the very summit of the hill; his lengthened shadow, thrown out by
+the moon's pale beams, darkens the rocky ground in the distance. The
+traveller is surveying the huge city lying at his feet--the City of
+Paris--from whose profundities are cast up its towers, cupolas, domes,
+and steeples, in the bluish moisture of the horizon; while from the very
+centre of this sea of stones is rising a luminous vapor, reddening the
+starry azure of the sky above. It is the distant light of a myriad
+lamps which at night, the season for pleasure, is illuminating the noisy
+capital.
+
+"No!" said the traveller, "it will not be. The Lord surely will not
+suffer it. Twice is quite enough. Five centuries ago, the avenging hand
+of the Almighty drove me hither from the depths of Asia. A solitary
+wanderer, I left in my track more mourning, despair, disaster, and
+death, than the innumerable armies of a hundred devastating conquerors
+could have produced. I then entered this city, and it was decimated. Two
+centuries ago that inexorable hand which led me through the world again
+conducted me here; and on that occasion, as on the previous one, that
+scourge, which at intervals the Almighty binds to my footsteps, ravaged
+this city, attacking first my brethren, already wearied by wretchedness
+and toil. My brethren! through me--the laborer of Jerusalem, cursed by
+the Lord, who in my person cursed the race of laborers--a race always
+suffering, always disinherited, always slaves, who like me, go on, on,
+on, without rest or intermission, without recompense, or hope; until at
+length, women, men, children, and old men, die under their iron yoke of
+self-murder, that others in their turn then take up, borne from age to
+age on their willing but aching shoulders. And here again, for the third
+time, in the course of five centuries, I have arrived at the summit of
+one of the hills which overlooks the city; and perhaps I bring
+again with me terror, desolation, and death. And this unhappy city,
+intoxicated in a whirl of joys, and nocturnal revelries, knows nothing
+about it--oh! it knows not that I am at its very gate. But no! no! my
+presence will not be a source of fresh calamity to it. The Lord, in
+His unsearchable wisdom, has brought me hither across France, making me
+avoid on my route all but the humblest villages, so that no increase
+of the funeral knell has, marked my journey. And then, moreover, the
+spectre has left me--that spectre, livid and green, with its deep
+bloodshot eyes. When I touched the soil of France, its moist and icy
+hand abandoned mine--it disappeared. And yet I feel the atmosphere of
+death surrounding me still. There is no cessation; the biting gusts
+of this sinister wind, which envelop me in their breath, seem by their
+envenomed breath to propagate the scourge. Doubtless the anger of the
+Lord is appeased. Maybe, my presence here is meant only as a threat,
+intending to bring those to their senses whom it ought to intimidate. It
+must be so; for were it otherwise, it would, on the contrary, strike a
+loud-sounding blow of greater terror, casting at once dread and death
+into the very heart of the country, into the bosom of this immense city.
+Oh, no! no! the Lord will have mercy; He will not condemn me to this new
+affliction. Alas! in this city my brethren are more numerous and more
+wretched than in any other. And must I bring death to them? No! the Lord
+will have mercy; for, alas! the seven descendants of my sister are at
+last all united in this city. And must I bring death to them? Death!
+instead of that immediate assistance they stand so much in need of? For
+that woman who, like myself, wanders from one end of the world into the
+other, has gone now on her everlasting journey, after having confounded
+their enemies' plots. In vain did she foretell that great evils still
+threatened those who are akin to me through my sister's blood. The
+unseen hand by which I am led, drives that woman away from me, even as
+though it were a whirlwind that swept her on. In vain she entreated and
+implored at the moment she was leaving those who are so dear to me.--At
+least, 0 Lord, permit me to stay until I shall have finished my task!
+Onward! A few days, for mercy's sake, only a few days! Onward! I leave
+these whom I am protecting on the very brink of an abyss! Onward!
+Onward!! And the wandering star is launched afresh on its perpetual
+course. But her voice traversed through space, calling me to the
+assistance of my own! When her voice reached me I felt that the
+offspring of my sister were still exposed to fearful dangers: those
+dangers are still increasing. Oh, say, say, Lord! shall the descendants
+of my sister escape those woes which for so many centuries have
+oppressed my race? Wilt Thou pardon me in them? Wilt Thou punish me
+in them? Oh! lead them, that they may obey the last wishes of their
+ancestor. Guide them, that they may join their charitable hearts, their
+powerful strength, their best wisdom, and their immense wealth, and work
+together for the future happiness of mankind, thereby, perhaps, enabled
+to ransom me from my eternal penalties. Let those divine words of
+the Son of Man, 'Love ye one another!' be their only aim; and by the
+assistance of their all-powerful words, let them contend against and
+vanquish those false priests who have trampled on the precepts of love,
+of peace, and hope commanded by the Saviour, setting up in their stead
+the precepts of hatred, violence, and despair. Those false shepherds,
+supported ay the powerful and wealthy of the world, who in all times
+have been their accomplices, instead of asking here below a little
+happiness for my brethren, who have been suffering and groaning for
+centuries, dare to utter, in Thy name, O Lord! that the poor must always
+be doomed to the tortures of this world, and that it is criminal in
+Thine eyes that they should either wish for or hope a mitigation of
+their sufferings on earth, because the happiness of the few and the
+wretchedness of nearly all mankind is Thine almighty will. Blasphemies!
+is it not the contrary of these homicidal words that is more worthy of
+the name of Divine will? Hear, me, O Lord! for mercy's sake. Snatch from
+their enemies the descendants of my sister, from the artisan up to
+the king's son. Do not permit them to crush the germ of a mighty and
+fruitful association, which, perhaps, under Thy protection, may take its
+place among the records of the happiness of mankind. Suffer me, O Lord!
+to unite those whom they are endeavoring to divide--to defend those whom
+they are attacking. Suffer me to bring hope to those from whom hope has
+fled, to give courage to those who are weak, to uphold those whom evil
+threatens, and to sustain those who would persevere in well-doing. And
+then, perhaps, their struggles, their devotedness, their virtues, this
+miseries might expiate my sin. Yes, mine--misfortune, misfortune alone,
+made me unjust and wicked. O Lord! since Thine almighty hand hath
+brought me hither, for some end unknown to me, disarm Thyself, I implore
+Thee, of Thine anger, and let not me be the instrument of Thy vengeance!
+There is enough of mourning in the earth these two years past--Thy
+creatures have fallen by millions in my footsteps. The world is
+decimated. A veil of mourning extends from one end of the globe to the
+other. I have traveled from Asia even to the Frozen Pole, and death has
+followed in my wake. Dost Thou not hear, O Lord! the universal wailings
+that mount up to Thee? Have mercy upon all, and upon me. One day, grant
+me but a single day, that I may collect the descendants of my sister
+together, and save them!" And uttering these words, the wanderer fell
+upon his knees, and raised his hands to heaven in a suppliant attitude.
+
+Suddenly, the wind howled with redoubled violence; its sharp whistlings
+changed to a tempest. The Wanderer trembled, and exclaimed in a voice of
+terror, "O Lord! the blast of death is howling in its rage. It appears
+as though a whirlwind were lifting me up. Lord, wilt Thou not, then,
+hear my prayer? The spectre! O! do I behold the spectre? Yes, there it
+is; its cadaverous countenance is agitated by convulsive throes, its red
+eyes are rolling in their orbits. Begone! begone! Oh! its hand--its icy
+hand has seized on mine! Mercy, Lord, have mercy! 'Onward!' Oh, Lord!
+this scourge, this terrible avenging scourge! Must I, then, again carry
+it into this city, must my poor wretched brethren be the first to fall
+under it--though already so miserable? Mercy, mercy! 'Onward!' And the
+descendants of my sister--oh, pray, have mercy, mercy! 'Onward!' O Lord,
+have pity on me! I can no longer keep my footing on the ground, the
+spectre is dragging me over the brow of the hill; my course is as rapid
+as the death-bearing wind that whistles in my track; I already approach
+the walls of the city. Oh, mercy, Lord, mercy on the descendants of my
+sister--spare them! do not compel me to be their executioner, and let
+them triumph over their enemies. Onward, onward! The ground is fleeing
+from under me; I am already at the city gate; oh, yet, Lord, yet there
+is time; oh, have mercy on this slumbering city, that it may not even
+now awaken with the lamentations of terror, of despair and death! O
+Lord, I touch the threshold of the gate; verily Thou willest it so
+then. 'Tis done--Paris! the scourge is in thy bosom! oh, cursed, cursed
+evermore am I. Onward! on! on!"(34)
+
+(34) In 1346, the celebrated Black Death ravaged the earth, presenting
+the same symptoms as the cholera, and the same inexplicable phenomena as
+to its progress and the results in its route. In 1660 a similar epidemic
+decimated the world. It is well known that when the cholera first broke
+out in Paris, it had taken a wide and unaccountable leap; and, also
+memorable, a north-east wind prevailed during its utmost fierceness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE DESCENDANTS OF THE WANDERING JEW.
+
+That lonely wayfarer whom we have heard so plaintively urging to be
+relieved of his gigantic burden of misery, spoke of "his sister's
+descendants" being of all ranks, from the working man to the king's son.
+They were seven in number, who had, in the year 1832, been led to Paris,
+directly or indirectly, by a bronze medal which distinguished them from
+others, bearing these words:-VICTIM of L. C. D. J. Pray for me!
+
+-----PARIS, February the 13th, 1682.
+
+IN PARIS, Rue St. Francois, No. 3, In a century and a half you will be.
+February the 13th, 1832.
+
+ -----PRAY FOR ME!
+
+The son of the King of Mundi had lost his father and his domains in
+India by the irresistible march of the English, and was but in title
+Prince Djalma. Spite of attempts to make his departure from the East
+delayed until after the period when he could have obeyed his
+medal's command, he had reached France by the second month of 1832.
+Nevertheless, the results of shipwreck had detained him from Paris till
+after that date. A second possessor of this token had remained unaware
+of its existence, only discovered by accident. But an enemy who sought
+to thwart the union of these seven members, had shut her up in a
+mad-house, from which she was released only after that day. Not alone
+was she in imprisonment. An old Bonapartist, General Simon, Marshal of
+France, and Duke de Ligny, had left a wife in Russian exile, while he
+(unable to follow Napoleon to St. Helena) continued to fight the English
+in India by means of Prince Djalma's Sepoys, whom he drilled. On the
+latter's defeat, he had meant to accompany his young friend to Europe,
+induced the more by finding that the latter's mother, a Frenchwoman, had
+left him such another bronze medal as he knew his wife to have had.
+
+Unhappily, his wife had perished in Siberia, without his knowing it, any
+more than he did, that she had left twin daughters, Rose and Blanche.
+Fortunately for them, one who had served their father in the Grenadiers
+of the Guard. Francis Baudoin, nicknamed Dagobert, undertook to fulfil
+the dying mother's wishes, inspired by the medal. Saving a check at
+Leipsic, where one Morok the lion-tamer's panther had escaped from its
+cage and killed Dagobert's horse, and a subsequent imprisonment (which
+the Wandering Jew's succoring hand had terminated) the soldier and his
+orphan charges had reached Paris in safety and in time. But there, a
+renewal of the foe's attempt had gained its end. By skillful devices,
+Dagobert and his son Agricola were drawn out of the way while Rose and
+Blanche Simon were decoyed into a nunnery, under the eyes of Dagobert's
+wife. But she had been bound against interfering by the influence of the
+Jesuit confessional. The fourth was M. Hardy, a manufacturer, and the
+fifth, Jacques Rennepont, a drunken scamp of a workman, who were more
+easily fended off, the latter in a sponging house, the former by
+a friend's lure. Adrienne de Cardoville, daughter of the Count of
+Rennepont, who had also been Duke of Cardoville, was the lady who had
+been unwarrantably placed in the lunatic asylum. The fifth, unaware
+of the medal, was Gabriel, a youth, who had been brought up, though
+a foundling, in Dagobert's family, as a brother to Agricola. He had
+entered holy orders, and more, was a Jesuit, in name though not in
+heart. Unlike the others, his return from abroad had been smoothed. He
+had signed away all his future prospects, for the benefit of the order
+of Loyola, and, moreover, executed a more complete deed of transfer on
+the day, the 13th of February, 1832, when he, alone of the heirs, stood
+in the room of the house, No. 3, Rue St. Francois, claiming what was a
+vast surprise for the Jesuits, who, a hundred and fifty years
+before, had discovered that Count Marius de Rennepont had secreted a
+considerable amount of his wealth, all of which had been confiscated to
+them, in those painful days of dragoonings, and the revocation of the
+Edict of Nantes. They had bargained for some thirty or forty millions of
+francs to be theirs, by educating Gabriel into resigning his inheritance
+to them, but it was two hundred and twelve millions which the Jesuit
+representatives (Father d'Aigrigny and his secretary, Rodin) were amazed
+to hear their nursling placed in possession of. They had the treasure
+in their hands, in fact, when a woman of strangely sad beauty had
+mysteriously entered the room where the will had been read, and laid
+a paper before the notary. It was a codicil, duly drawn up and signed,
+deferring the carrying out of the testament until the first day of June
+the same year. The Jesuits fled from the house, in rage and intense
+disappointment. Father d'Aigrigny was so stupor-stricken at the defeat,
+that he bade his secretary at once write off to Rome that the Rennepont
+inheritance had escaped them, and hopes to seize it again were utterly
+at an end. Upon this, Rodin had revolted, and shown that he had
+authority to command where he had, so far, most humbly obeyed. Many such
+spies hang about their superior's heels, with full powers to become the
+governor in turn, at a moment's notice. Thenceforward, he, Rodin, had
+taken the business into his own hands. He had let Rose and Blanche Simon
+out of the convent into their father's arms. He had gone in person to
+release Adrienne de Cardoville from the asylum. More, having led her to
+sigh for Prince Djalma, he prompted the latter to burn for her.
+
+He let not M. Hardy escape. A friend whom the latter treated as a
+brother, had been shown up to him as a mere spy of the Jesuits; the
+woman whom he adored, a wedded woman, alas! who had loved him in spite
+of her vows, had been betrayed. Her mother had compelled her to hide her
+shame in America, and, as she had often said--"Much as you are endeared
+to me, I cannot waver between you and my mother!" so she had obeyed,
+without one farewell word to him. Confess, Rodin was a more dextrous
+man than his late master! In the pages that ensue farther proofs of his
+superiority in baseness and satanic heartlessness will not be wanting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE ATTACK.
+
+On M. Hardy's learning from the confidential go-between of the lovers,
+that his mistress had been taken away by her mother, he turned from
+Rodin and dashed away in a post carriage. At the same moment, as loud
+as the rattle of the wheels, there arose the shouts of a band of workmen
+and rioters, hired by the Jesuit's emissaries, coming to attack Hardy's
+operatives. An old grudge long existing between them and a rival
+manufacturer's--Baron Tripeaud--laborers, fanned the flames. When M.
+Hardy had left the factory, Rodin, who was not prepared for this
+sudden departure, returned slowly to his hackney-coach; but he stopped
+suddenly, and started with pleasure and surprise, when he saw, at some
+distance, Marshall Simon and his father advancing towards one of the
+wings of the Common Dwelling-house; for an accidental circumstance had
+so far delayed the interview of the father and son.
+
+"Very well!" said Rodin. "Better and better! Now, only let my man have
+found out and persuaded little Rose-Pompon!"
+
+And Rodin hastened towards his hackney-coach. At this moment, the wind,
+which continued to rise, brought to the ear of the Jesuit the war song
+of the approaching Wolves.
+
+The workman was in the garden. The marshal said to him, in a voice of
+such deep emotion that the old man started; "Father, I am very unhappy."
+
+A painful expression, until then concealed, suddenly darkened the
+countenance of the marshal.
+
+"You unhappy?" cried father Simon, anxiously, as he pressed nearer to
+the marshal.
+
+"For some days, my daughters have appeared constrained in manner, and
+lost in thought. During the first moments of our re-union, they were
+mad with joy and happiness. Suddenly, all has changed; they are becoming
+more and more sad. Yesterday, I detected tears in their eyes; then
+deeply moved, I clasped them in my arms, and implored them to tell me
+the cause of their sorrow. Without answering, they threw themselves on
+my neck, and covered my face with their tears."
+
+"It is strange. To what do you attribute this alteration?"
+
+"Sometimes, I think I have not sufficiently concealed from them the
+grief occasioned me by the loss of their mother, and they are
+perhaps miserable that they do not suffice for my happiness. And yet
+(inexplicable as it is) they seem not only to understand, but to share
+my sorrow. Yesterday, Blanche said to me: 'How much happier still should
+we be, if our mother were with us!--'"
+
+"Sharing your sorrow, they cannot reproach you with it. There must be
+some other cause for their grief."
+
+"Yes," said the marshal, looking fixedly at his father; "yes--but to
+penetrate this secret--it would be necessary not to leave them."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"First learn, father, what are the duties which would keep me here; then
+you shall know those which may take me away from you, from my daughters,
+and from my other child."
+
+"What other child?"
+
+"The son of my old friend, the Indian Prince."
+
+"Djalma? Is there anything the matter with him?"
+
+"Father, he frightens me. I told you, father, of his mad and unhappy
+passion for Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"Does that frighten you, my son?" said the old man, looking at the
+marshal with surprise. "Djalma is only eighteen, and, at that age, one
+love drives away another."
+
+"You have no idea of the ravages which the passion has already made in
+the ardent, indomitable boy; sometimes, fits of savage ferocity follow
+the most painful dejection. Yesterday, I came suddenly upon him; his
+eyes were bloodshot, his features contracted with rage; yielding to an
+impulse of mad furry, he was piercing with his poinard a cushion of red
+cloth, whilst he exclaimed, panting for breath, 'Ha blood!--I will have
+blood!' 'Unhappy boy!' I said to him, 'what means this insane passion?'
+'I'm killing the man!' replied he, in a hollow and savage voice: it is
+thus he designates his supposed rival."
+
+"There is indeed something terrible," said the old man, "in such a
+passion, in such a heart."
+
+"At other times," resumed the marshal, "it is against Mdlle. de
+Cardoville that his rage bursts forth; and at others, against himself.
+I have been obliged to remove his weapons, for a man who came with him
+from Java, and who appears much attached to him, has informed me that he
+suspected him of entertaining some thoughts of suicide."
+
+"Unfortunate boy!"
+
+"Well, father," said Marshal Simon, with profound bitterness; "it is
+at the moment when my daughters and my adopted son require all my
+solicitude, that I am perhaps on the eve of quitting them."
+
+"Of quitting them?"
+
+"Yes, to fulfil a still more sacred duty than that imposed by friendship
+or family," said the marshal, in so grave and solemn a tone, that his
+father exclaimed, with deep emotion: "What can this duty be?"
+
+"Father," said the marshal, after remaining a moment in thoughtful
+silence, "who made me what I am? Who gave me the ducal title, and the
+marshal's baton?"
+
+"Napoleon."
+
+"For you, the stern republican, I know that he lost all his value, when
+from the first citizen of a Republic he became an emperor.
+
+"I cursed his weakness," said Father Simon, sadly; "the demi-god sank
+into a man."
+
+"But for me, father--for me, the soldier, who have always fought beside
+him, or under his eye--for me, whom he raised from the lowest rank in
+the army to the highest--for me, whom he loaded with benefits and marks
+of affection--for me, he was more than a hero, he was a friend--and
+there was as much gratitude as admiration in my idolatry for him. When
+he was exiled, I would fain have shared his exile; they refused me that
+favor; then I conspired, then I drew my sword against those who had
+robbed his son of the crown which France had given him."
+
+"And, in your position, you did well, Pierre; without sharing your
+admiration, I understood your gratitude. The projects of exile, the
+conspiracies--I approved them all--you know it."
+
+"Well, then, that disinherited child, in whose name I conspired
+seventeen years ago, is now of an age to wield his father's sword."
+
+"Napoleon II!" exclaimed the old man, looking at his son with surprise
+and extreme anxiety; "the king of Rome!"
+
+"King? no; he is no longer king. Napoleon? no; he is no longer Napoleon.
+They have given him some Austrian name, because the other frightened
+them. Everything frightens them. Do you know what they are doing with
+the son of the Emperor?" resumed the marshal, with painful excitement.
+"They are torturing him--killing him by inches!"
+
+"Who told you this?"
+
+"Somebody who knows, whose words are but too true. Yes; the son of the
+Emperor struggles with all his strength against a premature death. With
+his eyes turned towards France, he waits--he waits--and no one comes--no
+one--out of all the men that his father made as great as they once were
+little, not one thinks of that crowned child, whom they are stifling,
+till he dies."
+
+"But you think of him?"
+
+"Yes; but I had first to learn--oh! there is no doubt of it, for I have
+not derived all my information from the same source--I had first to
+learn the cruel fate of this youth, to whom I also swore allegiance; for
+one day, as I have told you, the Emperor, proud and loving father as he
+was, showed him to me in his cradle, and said: 'My old friend, you will
+be to the son what you have been to the father; who loves us, loves our
+France.'"
+
+"Yes, I know it. Many times you have repeated those words to me, and,
+like yourself, I have been moved by them."
+
+"Well, father! suppose, informed of the sufferings of the son of
+the Emperor, I had seen--with the positive certainty that I was not
+deceived--a letter from a person of high rank in the court of Vienna,
+offering to a man that was still faithful to the Emperor's memory, the
+means of communicating with the king of Rome, and perhaps of saving him
+from his tormentors--"
+
+"What next?" said the workman, looking fixedly at his son. "Suppose
+Napoleon II. once at liberty--"
+
+"What next?" exclaimed the marshal. Then he added, in a suppressed
+voice: "Do you think, father, that France is insensible to the
+humiliations she endures? Do you think that the memory of the Emperor
+is extinct? No, no; it is, above all, in the days of our country's
+degredation, that she whispers that sacred name. How would it be, then,
+were that name to rise glorious on the frontier, reviving in his son? Do
+you not think that the heart of all France would beat for him?"
+
+"This implies a conspiracy--against the present government--with
+Napoleon II. for a watchword," said the workman. "This is very serious."
+
+"I told you, father, that I was very unhappy; judge if it be not so,"
+cried the marshal. "Not only I ask myself, if I ought to abandon my
+children and you, to run the risk of so daring an enterprise, but I
+ask myself if I am not bound to the present government, which, in
+acknowledging my rank and title, if it bestowed no favor, at least did
+me an act of justice. How shall I decide?--abandon all that I love, or
+remain insensible to the tortures of Emperor--of that Emperor to the
+son of the whom I owe everything--to whom I have sworn fidelity, both
+to himself and child? Shall I lose this only opportunity, perhaps, of
+saving him, or shall I conspire in his favor? Tell me, if I exaggerate
+what I owe to the memory of the Emperor? Decide for me, father! During a
+whole sleepless night, I strove to discover, in the midst of this chaos,
+the line prescribed by honor; but I only wandered from indecision to
+indecision. You alone, father--you alone, I repeat, can direct me."
+
+After remaining for some moments in deep thought, the old man was about
+to answer, when some person, running across the little garden, opened
+the door hastily, and entered the room in which were the marshal and his
+father. It was Olivier, the young workman, who had been able to effect
+his escape from the village in which the Wolves had assembled.
+
+"M. Simon! M. Simon!" cried he, pale, and panting for breath. "They are
+here--close at hand. They have come to attack the factory."
+
+"Who?" cried the old man, rising hastily.
+
+"The Wolves, quarrymen, and stone-cutters, joined on the road by a crowd
+of people from the neighborhood, and vagabonds from town. Do you not
+hear them? They are shouting, 'Death to the Devourers!'"
+
+The clamor was indeed approaching, and grew more and more distinct.
+
+"It is the same noise that I heard just now," said the marshal, rising
+in his turn.
+
+"There are more than two hundred of them, M. Simon," said Olivier; "they
+are armed with clubs and stones, and unfortunately the greater part of
+our workmen are in Paris. We are not above forty here in all; the women
+and children are already flying to their chambers, screaming for terror.
+Do you not hear them?"
+
+The ceiling shook beneath the tread of many hasty feet.
+
+"Will this attack be a serious one?" said the marshal to his father, who
+appeared more and more dejected.
+
+"Very serious," said the old man; "there is nothing more fierce than
+these combats between different unions; and everything has been done
+lately to excite the people of the neighborhood against the factory."
+
+"If you are so inferior in number," said the marshal, "you must begin by
+barricading all the doors--and then--"
+
+He was unable to conclude. A burst of ferocious cries shook the windows
+of the room, and seemed so near and loud, that the marshal, his father,
+and the young workman, rushed out into the little garden, which was
+bounded on one side by a wall that separated it from the fields.
+Suddenly whilst the shouts redoubled in violence, a shower of large
+stones, intended to break the windows of the house, smashed some of the
+panes on the first story, struck against the wall, and fell into the
+garden, all around the marshal and his father. By a fatal chance, one
+of these large stones struck the old man on the head. He staggered, bent
+forward, and fell bleeding into the arms of Marshal Simon, just as arose
+from without, with increased fury, the savage cries of, "Death to the
+Devourers!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE WOLVES AND THE DEVOURERS.
+
+It was a frightful thing to view the approach of the lawless crowd,
+whose first act of hostility had been so fatal to Marshal Simon's
+father. One wing of the Common Dwelling-house, which joined the
+garden-wall on that side, was next to the fields. It was there that the
+Wolves began their attack. The precipitation of their march, the halt
+they had made at two public-houses on the road, their ardent impatience
+for the approaching struggle, had inflamed these men to a high pitch of
+savage excitement. Having discharged their first shower of stones, most
+of the assailants stooped down to look for more ammunition. Some of
+them, to do so with greater ease, held their bludgeons between their
+teeth; others had placed them against the wall; here and there, groups
+had formed tumultuously round the principal leaders of the band; the
+most neatly dressed of these men wore frocks, with caps, whilst
+others were almost in rags, for, as we have already said, many of the
+hangers-on at the barriers, and people without any profession, had
+joined the troop of the Wolves, whether welcome or not. Some hideous
+women, with tattered garments, who always seem to follow in the track of
+such people, accompanied them on this occasion, and, by their cries and
+fury, inflamed still more the general excitement. One of them, tall,
+robust, with purple complexion, blood shot eyes, and toothless jaws,
+had a handkerchief over her head, from beneath which escaped her yellow,
+frowsy hair. Over her ragged gown, she wore an old plaid shawl, crossed
+over her bosom, and tied behind her back. This hag seemed possessed
+with a demon. She had tucked up her half-torn sleeves; in one hand
+she brandished a stick, in the other she grasped a huge stone; her
+companions called her Ciboule (scullion).
+
+This horrible hag exclaimed, in a hoarse voice: "I'll bite the women of
+the factory; I'll make them bleed."
+
+The ferocious words were received with applause by her companions, and
+with savage cries of "Ciboule forever!" which excited her to frenzy.
+
+Amongst the other leaders, was a small, dry pale man, with the face of
+a ferret, and a black beard all round the chin; he wore a scarlet Greek
+cap, and beneath his long blouse, perfectly new, appeared a pair of neat
+cloth trousers, strapped over thin boots. This man was evidently of a
+different condition of life from that of the other persons in the troop;
+it was he, in particular, who ascribed the most irritating and insulting
+language to the workmen of the factory, with regard to the inhabitants
+of the neighborhood. He howled a great deal, but he carried neither
+stick nor stone. A full-faced, fresh-colored man, with a formidable bass
+voice, like a chorister's, asked him: "Will you not have a shot at those
+impious dogs, who might bring down the Cholera on the country, as the
+curate told us?"
+
+"I will have a better shot than you," said the little man, with a
+singular, sinister smile.
+
+"And with what, I'd like to see?"
+
+"Probably, with this," said the little man, stooping to pick up a
+large stone; but, as he bent, a well-filled though light bag, which he
+appeared to carry under his blouse, fell to the ground.
+
+"Look, you are losing both bag and baggage," said the other; "it does
+not seem very heavy."
+
+"They are samples of wool," answered the man with the ferret's face, as
+he hastily picked up the bag, and replaced it under his blouse; then he
+added: "Attention! the big blaster is going to speak."
+
+And, in fact, he who exercised the most complete ascendency over this
+irritated crowd was the terrible quarryman. His gigantic form towered
+so much above the multitude, that his great head, bound in its ragged
+handkerchief, and his Herculean shoulders, covered with a fallow goat
+skin, were always visible above the level of that dark and swarming
+crowd, only relieved here and there by a few women's caps, like so many
+white points. Seeing to what a degree of exasperation the minds of the
+crowd had reached, the small number of honest, but misguided workmen,
+who had allowed themselves to be drawn into this dangerous enterprise,
+under the pretext of a quarrel between rival unions, now fearing for the
+consequences of the struggle, tried, but too late, to abandon the main
+body. Pressed close, and as it were, girt in with the more hostile
+groups, dreading to pass for cowards, or to expose themselves to the bad
+treatment of the majority, they were forced to wait for a more
+favorable moment to effect their escape. To the savage cheers, which
+had accompanied the first discharge of stones, succeeded a deep silence
+commanded by the stentorian voice of the quarryman.
+
+"The Wolves have howled," he exclaimed; "let us wait and see how the
+Devourers will answer, and when they will begin the fight."
+
+"We must draw them out of their factory, and fight them on neutral
+ground," said the little man with the ferret's face, who appeared to be
+the thieves' advocate; "otherwise there would be trespass."
+
+"What do we care about trespass?" cried the horrible hag, Ciboule; "in
+or out, I will tear the chits of the factory."
+
+"Yes, yes," cried other hideous creatures, as ragged as Ciboule herself;
+"we must not leave all to the men."
+
+"We must have our fun, too!"
+
+"The women of the factory say that all the women of the neighborhood are
+drunken drabs," cried the little man with the ferret's face.
+
+"Good! we'll pay them for it."
+
+"The women shall have their share."
+
+"That's our business."
+
+"They like to sing in their Common House," cried Ciboule; "we will make
+them sing the wrong side of their mouths, in the key of 'Oh, dear me!'"
+
+This pleasantry was received with shouts, hootings, and furious stamping
+of feet, to which the stentorian voice of the quarryman put a term by
+roaring: "Silence!"
+
+"Silence! silence!" repeated the crowd. "Hear the blaster!"
+
+"If the Devourers are cowards enough not to dare to show themselves,
+after a second volley of stones, there is a door down there which we can
+break open, and we will soon hunt them from their holes."
+
+"It would be better to draw them out, so that none might remain in the
+factory," said the little old man with the ferret's face, who appeared
+to have some secret motive.
+
+"A man fights where he can," cried the quarryman, in a voice of thunder;
+"all, right, if we can but once catch hold. We could fight on a sloping
+roof, or on the top of a wall--couldn't we, my Wolves?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried the crowd, still more excited by those savage words;
+"if they don't come out, we will break in."
+
+"We will see their fine palace!"
+
+"The pagans haven't even a chapel," said the bass voice. "The curate has
+damned them all!"
+
+"Why should they have a palace, and we nothing but dog-kennels?"
+
+"Hardy's workmen say that kennels are good enough for such as you." said
+the little man with the ferret's face.
+
+"Yes, yes! they said so."
+
+"We'll break all their traps."
+
+"We'll pull down their bazaar."
+
+"We'll throw the house out of the windows."
+
+"When we have made the mealy-mouthed chits sing," cried Ciboule, "we
+will make them dance to the clatter of stones on their heads."
+
+"Come, my Wolves! attention!" cried the quarryman, still in the same
+stentorian voice; "one more volley, and if the Devourers do not come
+out, down with the door!"
+
+This proposition was received with cheers of savage ardor, and the
+quarryman, whose voice rose above the tumult, cried with all the
+strength of his herculean lungs: "Attention, my Wolves. Make ready! all
+together. Now, are you ready?"
+
+"Yes, yes--all ready!"
+
+"Then, present!--fire!" And, for the second time, a shower of enormous
+stones poured upon that side of the Common Dwelling-house which was
+turned towards the fields. A part of these projectiles broke such of the
+windows as had been spared by the first volley. To the sharp smashing
+and cracking of glass were joined the ferocious cries uttered in chorus
+by this formidable mob, drunk with its own excesses: "Death to the
+Devourers!"
+
+Soon these outcries became perfectly frantic, when, through the broken
+windows, the assailants perceived women running in terror, some with
+children in their arms, and others raising their hands to heaven,
+calling aloud for help; whilst a few, bolder than the rest, leaned out
+of the windows, and tried to fasten the outside blinds.
+
+"There come the ants out of their holes!" cried Ciboule, stooping to
+pick up a stone. "We must have a fling at them for luck!" The stone,
+hurled by the steady, masculine hand of the virago, went straight to its
+mark, and struck an unfortunate woman who was trying to close one of the
+shutters.
+
+"Hit in the white!" cried the hideous creature.
+
+"Well done, Ciboule!--you've rapped her coker-nut!" cried a voice.
+
+"Ciboule forever!"
+
+"Come out, you Devourers, if you dare!"
+
+"They have said a hundred times, that the neighbors were too cowardly
+even to come and look at their house," squealed the little man with the
+ferret's face.
+
+"And now they show the white feather!"
+
+"If they will not come out," cried the quarryman, in voice of thunder,
+"let us smoke them out!"
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+"Let's break open the door!"
+
+"We are sure to find them!"
+
+"Come on! come on!"
+
+The crowd, with the quarryman at their head, and Ciboule not far from
+him, brandishing a stick, advanced tumultously towards one of the great
+doors. The ground shook beneath the rapid tread of the mob, which had
+now ceased shouting; but the confused, and, as it were, subterraneous
+noise, sounded even more ominous than those savage outcries. The Wolves
+soon arrived opposite the massive oaken door. At the moment the blaster
+raised a sledgehammer, the door opened suddenly. Some of the most
+determined of the assailants were about to rush in at this entrance; but
+the quarryman stepped back, extending his arm as if to moderate their
+ardor and impose silence. Then his followers gathered round him.
+
+The half-open door discovered a party of workmen, unfortunately by no
+means numerous, but with countenances full of resolution. They had armed
+themselves hastily with forks, iron bars, and clubs. Agricola, who was
+their leader, held in his hand a heavy sledge-hammer. The young workman
+was very pale; but the fire of his eye, his menacing look, and the
+intrepid assurance of his bearing, showed that his father's blood
+boiled in his veins, and that in such a struggle he might become
+fear-inspiring. Yet he succeeded in restraining himself, and challenged
+the quarryman, in a firm voice: "What do you want?"
+
+"A fight!" thundered the blaster.
+
+"Yes, yes! a fight!" repeated the crowd.
+
+"Silence, my Wolves!" cried the quarryman, as he turned round, and
+stretched forth his large hand towards the multitude. Then addressing
+Agricola, he said: "The Wolves have come to ask for a fight."
+
+"With whom?"
+
+"With the Devourers."
+
+"There are no Devourers here," replied Agricola; "we are only peaceable
+workmen. So begone."
+
+"Well! here are the Wolves, that will eat your quiet workmen."
+
+"The Wolves will eat no one here," said Agricola, looking full at the
+quarryman, who approached him with a threatening air; "they can only
+frighten little children."
+
+"Oh! you think so," said the quarryman, with a savage sneer. Then
+raising his weapon, he shook it in Agricola's face, exclaiming: "Is that
+any laughing matter?
+
+"Is that?" answered Agricola, with a rapid movement, parrying the stone
+sledge with his own hammer.
+
+"Iron against iron--hammer against hammer--that suits me," said the
+quarryman.
+
+"It does not matter what suits you," answered Agricola, hardly able to
+restrain himself. "You have broken our windows, frightened our women,
+and wounded--perhaps killed--the oldest workman in the factory, who at
+this moment lies bleeding in the arms of his son." Here Agricola's voice
+trembled in spite of himself. "It is, I think, enough."
+
+"No; the Wolves are hungry for more," answered the blaster; "you must
+come out (cowards that you are!), and fight us on the plain."
+
+"Yes! yes! battle!--let them come out!" cried the crowd, howling,
+hissing, waving their sticks and pushing further into the small space
+which separated them from the door.
+
+"We will have no battle," answered Agricola: "we will not leave our
+home; but if you have the misfortune to pass this," said Agricola,
+throwing his cap upon the threshold, and setting his foot on it with an
+intrepid air, "if you pass this, you attack us in our own house, and you
+will be answerable for all that may happen."
+
+"There or elsewhere we will have the fight! the Wolves must eat the
+Devourers. Now for the attack!" cried the fierce quarryman, raising his
+hammer to strike Agricola.
+
+But the latter, throwing himself on one side by a sudden leap, avoided
+the blow, and struck with his hammer full at the chest of the quarryman,
+who staggered for a moment, but instantly recovering his legs, rushed
+furiously on Agricola, crying: "Follow me, Wolves!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE RETURN.
+
+As soon as the combat had begun between Agricola and the blaster,
+the general fight became terrible, ardent, implacable. A flood of
+assailants, following the quarryman's steps, rushed into the house
+with irresistible fury; others, unable to force their way through this
+dreadful crowd, where the more impetuous squeezed, stifled, and crushed
+these who were less so, went round in another direction, broke through
+some lattice work, and thus placed the people of the factory, as it
+were, between two fires. Some resisted courageously; others, seeing
+Ciboule, followed by some of her horrible companions, and by several
+of the most ill-looking ruffians, hastily enter that part of the
+Common-Dwelling house in which the women had taken refuge, hurried in
+pursuit of this band; but some of the hag's companions, having faced
+about, and vigorously defended the entrance of the staircase against the
+workmen, Ciboule, with three or four like herself, and about the same
+number of no less ignoble men, rushed through the rooms, with the
+intention of robbing or destroying all that came in their way. A door,
+which at first resisted their efforts, was soon broken through;
+Ciboule rushed into the apartment with a stick in her hand, her hair
+dishevelled, furious, and, as it were, maddened with the noise and
+tumult. A beautiful young girl (it was Angela), who appeared anxious
+to defend the entrance to a second chamber, threw herself on her knees,
+pale and supplicating, and raising her clasped hands, exclaimed: "Do not
+hurt my mother!"
+
+"I'll serve you out first, and your mother afterwards," replied the
+horrible woman, throwing herself on the poor girl, and endeavoring to
+tear her face with her nails, whilst the rest of the ruffianly
+band broke the glass and the clock with their sticks, and possessed
+themselves of some articles of wearing apparel.
+
+Angela, struggling with Ciboule, uttered loud cries of distress, and
+still attempted to guard the room in which her mother had taken refuge;
+whilst the latter, leaning from the window, called Agricola to their
+assistance. The smith was now engaged with the huge blaster. In a close
+struggle, their hammers had become useless, and with bloodshot eyes
+and clinched teeth, chest to chest, and limbs twined together like two
+serpents, they made the most violent efforts to overthrow each other.
+Agricola, bent forward, held under his right arm the left leg of the
+quarryman, which he had seized in parrying a violent kick; but such was
+the Herculean strength of the leader of the Wolves, that he remained
+firm as a tower, though resting only on one leg. With the hand that
+was still free (for the other was gripped by Agricola as in a vise),
+he endeavored with violent blows to break the jaws of the smith, who,
+leaning his head forward, pressed his forehead hard against the breast
+of his adversary.
+
+"The Wolf will break the Devourer's teeth, and he shall devour no more,"
+said the quarryman.
+
+"You are no true Wolf," answered the smith, redoubling his efforts; "the
+true Wolves are honest fellows, and do not come ten against one."
+
+"True or false, I will break your teeth."
+
+"And I your paw," said the smith, giving so violent a wrench to the leg
+of the quarryman, that the latter uttered a cry of acute pain, and,
+with the rage of a wild beast, butting suddenly forward with his head,
+succeeded in biting Agricola in the side of the neck.
+
+The pang of this bite forced Agricola to make a movement, which enabled
+the quarryman to disengage his leg. Then, with a superhuman effort, he
+threw himself with his whole weight on Agricola, and brought him to the
+ground, falling himself upon him.
+
+At this juncture, Angela's mother, leaning from one of the windows of
+the Common Dwelling-house, exclaimed in a heart-rending voice: "Help,
+Agricola!--they are killing my child!"
+
+"Let me go--and on, my honor--I will fight you tomorrow, or when you
+will," said Agricola, panting for breath.
+
+"No warmed-up food for me; I eat all hot," answered the quarryman,
+seizing the smith by the throat, whilst he tried to place one of his
+knees upon his chest.
+
+"Help!--they are killing my child!" cried Angela's mother, in a voice of
+despair.
+
+"Mercy! I ask mercy! Let me go!"' said Agricola, making the most violent
+efforts to escape.
+
+"I am too hungry," answered the quarryman.
+
+Exasperated by the terror which Angela's danger occasioned him, Agricola
+redoubled his efforts, when the quarryman suddenly felt his thigh seized
+by the sharp teeth of a dog, and at the same instant received from a
+vigorous hand three or four heavy blows with a stick upon his head. He
+relaxed his grasp, and fell stunned upon his hand and knee, whilst he
+mechanically raised his other arm to parry the blows, which ceased as
+soon as Agricola was delivered.
+
+"Father, you have saved me!" cried the smith, springing up. "If only I
+am in time to rescue Angela!"
+
+"Run!--never mind me!" answered Dagobert; and Agricola rushed into the
+house.
+
+Dogabert, accompanied by Spoil-sport, had come, as we have already said,
+to bring Marshal Simon's daughters to their grandfather. Arriving in the
+midst of the tumult, the soldier had collected a few workmen to defend
+the entrance of the chamber, to which the marshal's father had been
+carried in a dying state. It was from this post that the soldier had
+seen Agricola's danger. Soon after, the rush of the conflict separated
+Dagobert from the quarryman, who remained for some moments insensible.
+Arrived in two bounds at the Common Dwelling-house, Agricola succeeded
+in forcing his way through the men who defended the staircase, and
+rushed into the corridor that led to Angela's chamber. At the moment he
+reached it, the unfortunate girl was mechanically guarding her face with
+both hands against Ciboule, who, furious as the hyena over its prey, was
+trying to scratch and disfigure her.
+
+To spring upon the horrible hag, seize her by her yellow hair with
+irresistible hand, drag her backwards, and then with one cuff, stretch
+her full length upon the ground, was for Agricola an achievement
+as rapid as thought. Furious with rage, Ciboule rose again almost
+instantly; but at this moment, several workmen, who had followed close
+upon Agricola, were able to attack with advantage, and whilst the smith
+lifted the fainting form of Angela, and carried her into the next room,
+Ciboule and her band were driven from that part of the house.
+
+After the first fire of the assault, the small number of real Wolves,
+who, as Agricola said, were in the main honest fellows, but had the
+weakness to let themselves be drawn into this enterprise, under the
+pretext of a quarrel between rival unions, seeing the excesses committed
+by the rabble who accompanied them, turned suddenly round, and ranged
+themselves on the side of the Devourers.
+
+"There are no longer here either Wolves or Devourers," said one of
+the most determined Wolves to Olivier, with whom he had been fighting
+roughly and fairly; "there are none here but honest workmen, who must
+unite to drive out a set of scoundrels, that have come only to break and
+pillage."
+
+"Yes," added another; "it was against our will that they began by
+breaking your windows."
+
+"The big blaster did it all," said another; "the true Wolves wash their
+hands of him. We shall soon settle his account."
+
+"We may fight every day--but we ought to esteem each other."(35)
+
+This defection of a portion of the assailants (unfortunately but a
+small portion) gave new spirit to the workmen of the factory, and all
+together, Wolves and Devourers, though very inferior in number,
+opposed themselves to the band of vagabonds, who were proceeding to new
+excesses. Some of these wretches, still further excited by the little
+man with the ferret's face, a secret emissary of Baron Tripeaud,
+now rushed in a mass towards the workshops of M. Hardy. Then began
+a lamentable devastation. These people, seized with the mania of
+destruction, broke without remorse machines of the greatest value, and
+most delicate construction; half manufactured articles were pitilessly
+destroyed; a savage emulation seemed to inspire these barbarians,
+and those workshops, so lately the model of order and well-regulated
+economy, were soon nothing but a wreck; the courts were strewed with
+fragments of all kinds of wares, which were thrown from the windows with
+ferocious outcries, or savage bursts of laughter. Then, still thanks to
+the incitements of the little man with the ferret's face, the books
+of M. Hardy, archives of commercial industry, so indispensable to the
+trader, were scattered to the wind, torn, trampled under foot, in a sort
+of infernal dance, composed of all that was most impure in this assembly
+of low, filthy, and ragged men and women, who held each other by the
+hand, and whirled round and round with horrible clamor. Strange and
+painful contrasts! At the height of the stunning noise of these horrid
+deeds of tumult and devastation, a scene of imposing and mournful calm
+was taking place in the chamber of Marshal Simon's father, the door of
+which was guarded by a few devoted men. The old workman was stretched
+on his bed, with a bandage across his blood stained white hair. His
+countenance was livid, his breathing oppressed, his look fixed and
+glazed.
+
+Marshal Simon, standing at the head of the bed, bending over his father,
+watched in despairing anguish the least sign of consciousness on the
+part of the dying man, near whom was a physician, with his finger on
+the failing pulse. Rose and Blanche, brought hither by Dagobert, were
+kneeling beside the bed, their hands clasped, and their eyes bathed in
+tears; a little further, half hidden in the shadows of the room, for
+the hours had passed quickly, and the night was at hand, stood Dagobert
+himself, with his arms crossed upon his breast, and his features
+painfully contracted. A profound and solemn silence reigned in this
+chamber, only interrupted by the broken sobs of Rose and Blanche, or by
+Father Simon's hard breathing. The eyes of the marshal were dry, gloomy,
+and full of fire. He only withdrew them from his father's face, to
+interrogate the physician by a look. There are strange coincidences in
+life. That physician was Dr. Baleinier. The asylum of the doctor being
+close to the barrier that was nearest to the factory, and his fame being
+widely spread in the neighborhood, they had run to fetch him on the
+first call for medical assistance.
+
+Suddenly, Dr. Baleinier made a movement; the marshal, who had not taken
+his eyes off him, exclaimed: "Is there any hope?"
+
+"At least, my lord duke, the pulse revives a little."
+
+"He is saved!" said the marshal.
+
+"Do not cherish false hopes, my lord duke," answered the doctor,
+gravely: "the pulse revives, owing to the powerful applications to the
+feet, but I know not what will be the issue of the crisis."
+
+"Father! father! do you hear me?" cried the marshal, seeing the old man
+slightly move his head, and feebly raise his eyelids. He soon opened his
+eyes, and this time their intelligence had returned.
+
+"Father! you live--you know me!" cried the marshal, giddy with joy and
+hope.
+
+"Pierre! are you there?" said the old man, in a weak voice. "Your
+hand--give--it--" and he made a feeble movement.
+
+"Here, father!" cried the marshal, as he pressed the hands of the old
+man in his own.
+
+Then, yielding to an impulse of delight, he bent over his father,
+covered his hands, face, and hair with kisses, and repeated: "He lives!
+kind heaven, he lives! he is saved!"
+
+At this instant, the noise of the struggle which had recommenced between
+the rabble, the Wolves, and the Devourers, reached the ears of the dying
+man.
+
+"That noise! that noise!" said he: "they are fighting."
+
+"It is growing less, I think," said the marshal, in order not to agitate
+his father.
+
+"Pierre," said the old man, in a weak and broken voice, "I have not long
+to live."
+
+"Father--"
+
+"Let me speak, child; if I can but tell you all."
+
+"Sir," said Baleinier piously to the old workman, "heaven may perhaps
+work a miracle in your favor; show yourself grateful, and allow a
+priest--"
+
+"A priest! Thank you, sir--I have my son," said the old man; "in his
+arms, I will render up my soul--which has always been true and honest."
+
+"You die?" exclaimed the marshal; "no! no!"
+
+"Pierre," said the old man, in a voice which, firm at first, gradually
+grew fainter, "just now--you ask my advice in a very serious matter. I
+think, that the wish to tell you of your duty--has recalled me--for a
+moment--to life--for I should die miserable--if I thought you in a road
+unworthy of yourself and me. Listen to me, my son--my noble son--at this
+last hour, a father cannot deceive himself. You have a great duty to
+perform---under pain--of not acting like a man of honor--under pain of
+neglecting my last will. You ought, without hesitation--"
+
+Here the voice failed the old man. When he had pronounced the last
+sentence, he became quite unintelligible. The only words that Marshal
+Simon could distinguish, were these: "Napoleon II.--oath--dishonor--my
+son!"
+
+Then the old workman again moved his lips mechanically--and all was
+over. At the moment he expired, the night was quite come, and terrible
+shouts were heard from without, of "Fire! Fire!" The conflagration had
+broken out in one of the workshops, filled with inflammable stuff, into
+which had glided the little man with the ferret's face. At the same
+time, the roll of drums was heard in the distance, announcing the
+arrival of a detachment of troops from town.
+
+During an hour, in spite of every effort, the fire had been spreading
+through the factory. The night is clear, cold, starlight; the wind blows
+keenly from the north, with a moaning sound. A man, walking across the
+fields, where the rising ground conceals the fire from him, advances
+with slow and unsteady steps. It is M. Hardy. He had chosen to return
+home on foot, across the country, hoping that a walk would calm the
+fever in his blood--an icy fever, more like the chill of death. He had
+not been deceived. His adored mistress--the noble woman, with whom he
+might have found refuge from the consequences of the fearful deception
+which had just been revealed to him--had quitted France. He could have
+no doubt of it. Margaret was gone to America. Her mother had exacted
+from her, in expiation of her fault, that she should not even write to
+him one word of farewell--to him, for whom she had sacrificed her duty
+as a wife. Margaret had obeyed.
+
+Besides, she had often said to him: "Between my mother and you, I should
+not hesitate."
+
+She had not hesitated. There was therefore no hope, not the slightest;
+even if an ocean had not separated him from Margaret, he knew enough
+of her blind submission to her mother, to be certain that all relations
+between them were broken off forever. It is well. He will no longer
+reckon upon this heart--his last refuge. The two roots of his life have
+been torn up and broken, with the same blow, the same day, almost at the
+same moment. What then remains for thee, poor sensitive plant, as thy
+tender mother used to call thee? What remains to console thee for the
+loss of this last love--this last friendship, so infamously crushed? Oh!
+there remains for thee that one corner of the earth, created after
+the image of thy mind that little colony, so peaceful and flourishing,
+where, thanks to thee, labor brings with it joy and recompense. These
+worthy artisans, whom thou hast made happy, good, and grateful, will
+not fail thee. That also is a great and holy affection; let it be thy
+shelter in the midst of this frightful wreck of all thy most sacred
+convictions! The calm of that cheerful and pleasant retreat, the sight
+of the unequalled happiness of thy dependents, will soothe thy poor,
+suffering soul, which now seems to live only for suffering. Come! you
+will soon reach the top of the hill, from which you can see afar, in the
+plain below, that paradise of workmen, of which you are the presiding
+divinity.
+
+M. Hardy had reached the summit of the hill. At that moment the
+conflagration, repressed for a short time, burst forth with redoubled
+fury from the Common Dwelling-house, which it had now reached. A bright
+streak, at first white, then red, then copper-colored, illuminated
+the distant horizon. M. Hardy looked at it with a sort of incredulous,
+almost idiotic stupor. Suddenly, an immense column of flame shot up in
+the thick of a cloud of smoke, accompanied by a shower of sparks, and
+streamed towards the sky, casting a bright reflection over all the
+country, even to M. Hardy's feet. The violence of the north wind,
+driving the flames in waves before it, soon brought to the ears of M.
+Hardy the hurried clanging of the alarm-bell of the burning factory.
+
+(35) We wish it to be understood, that the necessities of our story
+alone have made the Wolves the assailants. While endeavoring to paint
+the evils arising the abuse of the spirit of association, we do not wish
+to ascribe a character of savage hostility to one sect rather than to
+the other to the Wolves more than to the Devourers. The Wolves, a club
+of united stone-cutters, are generally industrious, intelligent workmen,
+whose situation is the more worthy of interest, as not only their
+labors, conducted with mathematical precision, are of the rudest and
+most wearisome kind, but they are likewise out of work during three or
+four months of the year, their profession being, unfortunately, one of
+those which winter condemns to a forced cessation. A number of Wolves,
+in order to perfect themselves in their trade, attend every evening a
+course of linear geometry, applied to the cutting of stone, analogous
+to that given by M. Agricole Perdignier, for the benefit of carpenters.
+Several working stone-cutters sent an architectural model in plaster to
+the last exhibition.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. THE GO-BETWEEN.
+
+A few days have elapsed since the conflagration of M. Hardy's factory.
+The following scene takes place in the Rue Clovis, in the house where
+Rodin had lodged, and which was still inhabited by Rose-Pompon, who,
+without the least scruple, availed herself of the household arrangements
+of her friend Philemon. It was about noon, and Rose-Pompon, alone in
+the chamber of the student, who was still absent, was breakfasting very
+gayly by the fireside; but how singular a breakfast! what a queer fire!
+how strange an apartment!
+
+Imagine a large room, lighted by two windows without curtains--for as
+they looked on empty space, the lodger had fear of being overlooked.
+One side of this apartment served as a wardrobe, for there was suspended
+Rose-Pompon's flashy costume of debardeur, not far from the boat-man's
+jacket of Philemon, with his large trousers of coarse, gray stuff,
+covered with pitch (shiver my timbers!), just as if this intrepid
+mariner had bunked in the forecastle of a frigate, during a voyage
+round the globe. A gown of Rose Pompon's hung gracefully over a pair of
+pantaloons, the legs of which seemed to come from beneath the petticoat.
+On the lowest of several book-shelves, very dusty and neglected, by the
+side of three old boots (wherefore three boots?) and a number of empty
+bottles, stood a skull, a scientific and friendly souvenir, left to
+Philemon by one of his comrades, a medical student. With a species of
+pleasantry, very much to the taste of the student-world, a clay pipe
+with a very black bowl was placed between the magnificently white teeth
+of this skull; moreover, its shining top was half hidden beneath an
+old hat, set knowingly on one side, and adorned with faded flowers
+and ribbons. When Philemon was drunk, he used to contemplate this bony
+emblem of mortality, and break out into the most poetical monologues,
+with regard to this philosophical contrast between death and the mad
+pleasures of life. Two or three plaster casts, with their noses and
+chins more or less injured, were fastened to the wall, and bore witness
+to the temporary curiosity which Philemon had felt with regard to
+phrenological science, from the patient and serious study of which he
+had drawn the following logical conclusion:--That, having to an alarming
+extent the bump of getting into debt, he ought to resign himself to the
+fatality of this organization, and accept the inconvenience of creditors
+as a vital necessity. On the chimney-piece, stood uninjured, in all
+its majesty, the magnificent rowing-club drinking-glass, a china teapot
+without a spout, and an inkstand of black wood, the glass mouth of which
+was covered by a coat of greenish and mossy mould. From time to time,
+the silence of this retreat was interrupted by the cooing of pigeons,
+which Rose-Pompon had established with cordial hospitality in the little
+study. Chilly as a quail, Rose-Pompon crept close to the fire, and at
+the same time seemed to enjoy the warmth of a bright ray of sunshine,
+which enveloped her in its golden light. This droll little creature was
+dressed in the oddest costume, which, however, displayed to advantage
+the freshness of her piquant and pretty countenance, crowned with its
+fine, fair hair, always neatly combed and arranged the first thing in
+the morning. By way of dressing-gown, Rose-Pompon had ingeniously
+drawn over her linen, the ample scarlet flannel shirt which belonged to
+Philemon's official garb in the rowing-club; the collar, open and turned
+down, displayed the whiteness of the young girl's under garment, as
+also of her neck and shoulders, on whose firm and polished surface the
+scarlet shirt seemed to cast a rosy light. The grisette's fresh and
+dimpled arms half protruded from the large, turned-up sleeves; and her
+charming legs were also half visible, crossed one over the other, and
+clothed in neat white stockings, and boots. A black silk cravat formed
+the girdle which fastened the shirt round the wasp-like waist of
+Rose-Pompon, just above those hips, worthy of the enthusiasm of a modern
+Phidias, and which gave to this style of dress a grace very original.
+
+We have said, that the breakfast of Rose-Pompon was singular. You shall
+judge. On a little table placed before her, was a wash-hand-basin, into
+which she had recently plunged her fresh face, bathing it in pure water.
+From the bottom of this basin, now transformed into a salad-bowl, Rose
+Pompon took with the tips of her fingers large green leaves, dripping
+with vinegar, and crunched them between her tiny white teeth, whose
+enamel was too hard to allow them to be set on edge. Her drink was
+a glass of water and syrup of gooseberries, which she stirred with a
+wooden mustard-spoon. Finally, as an extra dish, she had a dozen olives
+in one of those blue glass trinket-dishes sold for twenty-five sous. Her
+dessert was composed of nuts, which she prepared to roast on a red-hot
+shovel. That Rose-Pompon, with such an unaccountable savage choice of
+food, should retain a freshness of complexion worthy of her name, is one
+of those miracles, which reveal the mighty power of youth and health.
+When she had eaten her salad, Rose-Pompon was about to begin upon her
+olives, when a low knock was heard at the door, which was modestly
+bolted on the inside.
+
+"Who is there?" said Rose-Pompon.
+
+"A friend--the oldest of the old," replied a sonorous, jovial voice.
+"Why do you lock yourself in?"
+
+"What! is it you, Ninny Moulin?"
+
+"Yes, my beloved pupil. Open quickly. Time presses."
+
+"Open to you? Oh, I dare say!--that would be pretty, the figure I am!"
+
+"I believe you! what does it matter what figure you are? It would be
+very pretty, thou rosiest of all the roses with which Cupid ever adorned
+his quiver!"
+
+"Go and preach fasting and morality in your journal, fat apostle!"
+said Rose--Pompon, as she restored the scarlet shirt to its place, with
+Philemon's other garments.
+
+"I say! are we to talk much longer through the door, for the greater
+edification of our neighbors?" cried Ninny Moulin. "I have something of
+importance to tell you--something that will astonish you--"
+
+"Give me time to put on my gown, great plague that you are!"
+
+"If it is because of my modesty, do not think of it. I am not over nice.
+I should like you very well as you are!"
+
+"Only to think that such a monster is the favorite of all the
+churchgoers!" said Rose-Pompon, opening the door as she finished
+fastening her dress.
+
+"So! you have at last returned to the dovecot, you stray girl!" said
+Ninny Moulin, folding his arms, and looking at Rose-Pompon with comic
+seriousness. "And where may you have been, I pray? For three days the
+naughty little bird has left its nest."
+
+"True; I only returned home last night. You must have called during my
+absence?"
+
+"I came, every day, and even twice a day, young lady, for I have very
+serious matters to communicate."
+
+"Very serious matters? Then we shall have a good laugh at them."
+
+"Not at all--they are really serious," said Ninny Moulin, seating
+himself. "But, first of all, what did you do during the three days that
+you left your conjugal and Philemonic home? I must know all about it,
+before I tell you more."
+
+"Will you have some olives?" said Rose-Pompon, as she nibbled one of
+them herself.
+
+"Is that your answer?--I understand!--Unfortunate Philemon!"
+
+"There is no unfortunate Philemon in the case, slanderer. Clara had a
+death in her house, and, for the first few days after the funeral she
+was afraid to sleep alone."
+
+"I thought Clara sufficiently provided against such fears."
+
+"There you are deceived, you great viper! I was obliged to go and keep
+the poor girl company."
+
+At this assertion, the religious pamphleteer hummed a tune, with an
+incredulous and mocking air.
+
+"You think I have played Philemon tricks?" cried Rose-Pompon, cracking a
+nut with the indignation of injured innocence.
+
+"I do not say tricks; but one little rose-colored trick."
+
+"I tell you, that it was not for my pleasure I went out. On the
+contrary--for, during my absence, poor Cephyse disappeared."
+
+"Yes, Mother Arsene told me that the Bacchanal-Queen was gone on a
+journey. But when I talk of Philemon, you talk of Cephyse; we don't
+progress."
+
+"May I be eaten by the black panther that they are showing at the Porte
+Saint-Martin if I do not tell you the truth. And, talking of that,
+you must get tickets to take me to see those animals, my little Ninny
+Moulin! They tell me there never were such darling wild beasts."
+
+"Now really, are you mad?"
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That I should guide your youth, like a venerable patriarch, through the
+dangers of the Storm-blown Tulip, all well and good--I ran no risk
+of meeting my pastors and masters; but were I to take you to a Lent
+Spectacle (since there are only beasts to be seen), I might just run
+against my sacristans--and how pretty I should look with you on my arm!"
+
+"You can put on a false nose, and straps to your trousers, my big Ninny;
+they will never know you."
+
+"We must not think of false noses, but of what I have to tell you, since
+you assure me that you have no intrigue in hand."
+
+"I swear it!" said Rose-Pompon, solemnly, extending her left hand
+horizontally, whilst with her right she put a nut into her mouth. Then
+she added, with surprise, as she looked at the outside coat of Ninny
+Moulin, "Goodness gracious! what full pockets you have got! What is
+there in them?"
+
+"Something that concerns you, Rose-Pompon," said Dumoulin, gravely.
+
+"Me?"
+
+"Rose-Pompon!" said Ninny Moulin, suddenly, with a majestic air; "will
+you have a carriage? Will you inhabit a charming apartment, instead of
+living in this dreadful hole? Will you be dressed like a duchess?"
+
+"Now for some more nonsense! Come, will you eat the olives? If not, I
+shall eat them all up. There is only one left."
+
+Without answering this gastronomic offer, Ninny Moulin felt in one of
+his pockets, and drew from it a case containing a very pretty bracelet,
+which he held up sparkling before the eyes of the young girl.
+
+"Oh! what a sumptuous bracelet!" cried she, clapping her hands. "A
+green-eyed serpent biting his tail--the emblem of my love for Philemon."
+
+"Do not talk of Philemon; it annoys me," said Ninny Moulin, as he
+clasped the bracelet round the wrist of Rose-Pompon, who allowed him to
+do it, laughing all the while like mad, and saying to him, "So you've
+been employed to make a purchase, big apostle, and wish to see the
+effect of it. Well! it is charming!"
+
+"Rose-Pompon," resumed Ninny Moulin, "would you like to have a servant,
+a box at the Opera, and a thousand francs a month for your pin-money?"
+
+"Always the same nonsense. Get along!" said the young girl, as she held
+up the bracelet to the light, still continuing to eat her nuts. "Why
+always the same farce, and no change of bills?"
+
+Ninny Moulin again plunged his hand into his pocket, and this time drew
+forth an elegant chain, which he hung round Rose-Pompon's neck.
+
+"Oh! what a beautiful chain!" cried the young girl, as she looked by
+turns at the sparkling ornament and the religious writer. "If you chose
+that also, you have a very good taste. But am I not a good natured girl
+to be your dummy, just to show off your jewels?"
+
+"Rose-Pompon," returned Ninny Moulin, with a still more majestic air,
+"these trifles are nothing to what you may obtain, if you will but
+follow the advice of your old friend."
+
+Rose began to look at Dumoulin with surprise, and said to him, "What
+does all this mean, Ninny Moulin? Explain yourself; what advice have you
+to give?"
+
+Dumoulin did not answer, but replunging his hand into his inexhaustible
+pocket, he fished up a parcel, which he carefully unfolded, and in which
+was a magnificent mantilla of black lace. Rose-Pompon started up, full
+of new admiration, and Dumoulin threw the rich mantilla over the young
+girl's shoulders.
+
+"It is superb! I have never seen anything like it! What patterns! what
+work!" said Rose-Pompon, as she examined all with simple and perfectly
+disinterested curiosity. Then she added, "Your pocket is like a shop;
+where did you get all these pretty things?" Then, bursting into a fit of
+laughter, which brought the blood to her cheeks, she exclaimed, "Oh, I
+have it! These are the wedding-presents for Madame de la Sainte-Colombe.
+I congratulate you; they are very choice."
+
+"And where do you suppose I should find money to buy these wonders?"
+said Ninny Moulin. "I repeat to you, all this is yours if you will but
+listen to me!"
+
+"How is this?" said Rose-Pompon, with the utmost amazement; "is what you
+tell me in downright earnest?"
+
+"In downright earnest."
+
+"This offer to make me a great lady?"
+
+"The jewels might convince you of the reality of my offers."
+
+"And you propose all this to me for some one else, my poor Ninny
+Moulin?"
+
+"One moment," said the religious writer, with a comical air of modesty,
+"you must know me well enough, my beloved pupil, to feel certain that
+I should be incapable of inducing you to commit an improper action. I
+respect myself too much for that--leaving out the consideration that it
+would be unfair to Philemon, who confided to me the guardianship of your
+virtue."
+
+"Then, Ninny Moulin," said Rose-Pompon, more and more astonished, "on my
+word of honor, I can make nothing of it.
+
+"Yet, 'tis all very simple, and I--"
+
+"Oh! I've found it," cried Rose-Pompon, interrupting Ninny Moulin; "it
+is some gentleman who offers me his hand, his heart, and all the rest of
+it. Could you not tell me that directly?"
+
+"A marriage? oh, laws, yes!" said Dumoulin, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"What! is it not a marriage?" said Rose-Pompon, again much surprised.
+
+"No."
+
+"And the offers you make me are honest ones, my big apostle?"
+
+"They could not be more so." Here Dumoulin spoke the truth.
+
+"I shall not have to be unfaithful to Philemon?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Or faithful to any one else?"
+
+"No."
+
+Rose-Pompon looked confounded. Then she rattled on: "Come, do not let
+us have any joking! I am not foolish enough to imagine that I am to live
+just like a duchess, just for nothing. What, therefore, must I give in
+return?"
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+"Nothing?"
+
+"Not even that," said Ninny Moulin, biting his nail-tip.
+
+"But what am I to do, then?"
+
+"Dress yourself as handsomely as possible, take your ease, amuse
+yourself, ride about in a carriage. You see, it is not very
+fatiguing--and you will, moreover, help to do a good action."
+
+"What! by living like a duchess?"
+
+"Yes! so make up your mind. Do not ask me for any more details, for I
+cannot give them to you. For the rest, you will not be detained against
+your will. Just try the life I propose to you. If it suits you, go on
+with it; if not, return to your Philemonic household."
+
+"In fact--"
+
+"Only try it. What can you risk?"
+
+"Nothing; but I can hardly believe that all you say is true. And then,"
+added she, with hesitation, "I do not know if I ought--"
+
+Ninny Moulin went to the window, opened it, and said to Rose-Pompon, who
+ran up to it, "Look there! before the door of the house."
+
+"What a pretty carriage! How comfortable a body'd be inside of it!"
+
+"That carriage is yours. It is waiting for you."
+
+"Waiting for me!" exclaimed Rose-Pompon; "am I to decide as short as
+that?"
+
+"Or not at all."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"On the instant."
+
+"But where will they take me?"
+
+"How should I know?"
+
+"You do not know where they will take me?"
+
+"Not I,"--and Dumoulin still spoke the truth--"the coachman has his
+orders."
+
+"Do you know all this is very funny, Ninny Moulin?"
+
+"I believe you. If it were not funny, where would be the pleasure?"
+
+"You are right."
+
+"Then you accept the offer? That is well. I am delighted both for you
+and myself."
+
+"For yourself?"
+
+"Yes; because, in accepting, you render me a great service."
+
+"You? How so?"
+
+"It matters little, as long as I feel obliged to you."
+
+"True."
+
+"Come, then; let us set out!"
+
+"Bah! after all, they cannot eat me," said Rose-Pompon, resolutely.
+
+With a skip and a jump, she went to fetch a rose-colored cap, and, going
+up to a broken looking-glass, placed the cap very much cocked on one
+side on her bands of light hair. This left uncovered her snowy neck,
+with the silky roots of the hair behind, and gave to her pretty face a
+very mischievous, not to say licentious expression.
+
+"My cloak!" said she to Ninny Moulin, who seemed to be relieved from a
+considerable amount of uneasiness, since she had accepted his offer.
+
+"Fie! a cloak will not do," answered her companion, feeling once more
+in his pocket and drawing out a fine Cashmere shawl, which he threw over
+Rose-Pompon's shoulders.
+
+"A Cashmere!" cried the young girl, trembling with pleasure and joyous
+surprise. Then she added, with an air of heroism: "It is settled! I
+will run the gauntlet." And with a light step she descended the stairs,
+followed by Ninny Moulin.
+
+The worthy greengrocer was at her post. "Good-morning, mademoiselle; you
+are early to-day," said she to the young girl.
+
+"Yes, Mother Arsene; there is my key."
+
+"Thank you, mademoiselle."
+
+"Oh! now I think of it," said Rose Pompon, suddenly, in a whisper, as
+she turned towards Ninny Moulin, and withdrew further from the portress,
+"what is to became of Philemon?"
+
+"Philemon?"
+
+"If he should arrive--"
+
+"Oh! the devil!" said Ninny Moulin, scratching his ear.
+
+"Yes; if Philemon should arrive, what will they say to him? for I may be
+a long time absent."
+
+"Three or four months, I suppose."
+
+"Not more?"
+
+"I should think not."
+
+"Oh! very good!" said Rose-Pompon. Then, turning towards the
+greengrocer, she said to her, after a moment's reflection: "Mother
+Arsene, if Philemon should come home, you will tell him I have gone
+out--on business."
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle."
+
+"And that he must not forget to feed my pigeons, which are in his
+study."
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle."
+
+"Good-bye, Mother Arsene."
+
+"Good-bye, mademoiselle." And Rose-Pompon entered the carriage in
+triumph, along with Ninny Moulin.
+
+"The devil take me if I know what is to come of all this," said Jacques
+Dumoulin to himself, as the carriage drove rapidly down the Rue Clovis.
+"I have repaired my error--and now I laugh at the rest."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. ANOTHER SECRET.
+
+The following scene took place a few days after the abduction of Rose
+Pompon by Ninny Moulin. Mdlle. de Cardoville was seated in a dreamy
+mood, in her cabinet, which was hung with green silk, and furnished
+with an ebony library, ornamented with large bronze caryatides. By some
+significant signs, one could perceive that Mdlle. de Cardoville had
+sought in the fine airs some relief from sad and serious thoughts.
+Near an open piano, was a harp, placed before a music-stand. A little
+further, on a table covered with boxes of oil and water-color, were
+several brilliant sketches. Most of them represented Asiatic scenes,
+lighted by the fires of an oriental sun. Faithful to her fancy of
+dressing herself at home in a picturesque style, Mademoiselle de
+Cardoville resembled that day one of those proud portraits of Velasquez,
+with stern and noble aspect. Her gown was of black moire, with wide
+swelling petticoat, long waist, and sleeve slashed with rose-colored
+satin, fastened together with jet bugles. A very stiff, Spanish ruff
+reached almost to her chin, and was secured round her neck by a broad
+rose-colored ribbon. This frill, slightly heaving, sloped down as far as
+the graceful swell of the rose-colored stomacher, laced with strings of
+jet beads, and terminating in a point at the waist. It is impossible to
+express how well this black garment, with its ample and shining folds,
+relieved with rose-color and brilliant jet, skin, harmonized with the
+shining whiteness of Adrienne's and the golden flood of her beautiful
+hair, whose long, silky ringlets descended to her bosom.
+
+The young lady was in a half-recumbent posture, with her elbow resting
+on a couch covered with green silk. The back of this piece of furniture,
+which was pretty high towards the fireplace, sloped down insensibly
+towards the foot. A sort of light, semicircular trellis-work, in gilded
+bronze, raised about five feet from the ground, covered with flowering
+plants (the admirable passiflores quadrangulatoe, planted in a deep
+ebony box, from the centre of which rose the trellis-work), surrounded
+this couch with a sort of screen of foliage enamelled with large
+flowers, green without, purple within, and as brilliant as those flowers
+of porcelain, which we receive from Saxony. A sweet, faint perfume,
+like a faint mixture of jasmine with violet, rose from the cup of these
+admirable passiflores. Strange enough, a large quantity of new books
+(Adrienne having bought them since the last two or three days) and
+quite fresh-cut, were scattered around her on the couch, and on a little
+table; whilst other larger volumes, amongst which were several atlases
+full of engravings, were piled on the sumptuous fur, which formed
+the carpet beneath the divan. Stranger still, these books, though of
+different forms, and by different authors, alt treated of the same
+subject. The posture of Adrienne revealed a sort of melancholy
+dejection. Her cheeks were pale; a light blue circle surrounded her
+large, black eyes, now half-closed, and gave to them an expression of
+profound grief. Many causes contributed to this sorrow--amongst others,
+the disappearance of Mother Bunch. Without absolutely believing the
+perfidious insinuations of Rodin, who gave her to understand that, in
+the fear of being unmasked by him, the hunchback had not dared to remain
+in the house, Adrienne felt a cruel sinking of the heart, when she
+thought how this young girl, in whom she had had so much confidence, had
+fled from her almost sisterly hospitality, without even uttering a word
+of gratitude; for care had been taken not to show her the few lines
+written by the poor needlewoman to her benefactress, just before her
+departure.
+
+She had only been told of the note of five hundred francs found on her
+desk; and this last inexplicable circumstance had contributed to awaken
+cruel suspicions in the breast of Mdlle. de Cardoville. She already felt
+the fatal effects of that mistrust of everything and everybody, which
+Rodin had recommended to her; and this sentiment of suspicion and
+reserve had the more tendency to become powerful, that, for the first
+time in her life, Mdlle. de Cardoville, until then a stranger to all
+deception, had a secret to conceal--a secret, which was equally her
+happiness, her shame, and her torment. Half-recumbent on her divan,
+pensive and depressed, Adrienne pursued, with a mind often absent, one
+of her newly purchased books. Suddenly, she uttered an exclamation of
+surprise; the hand which held the book trembled like a leaf, and from
+that moment she appeared to read with passionate attention and devouring
+curiosity. Soon, her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, her smile
+assumed ineffable sweetness, and she seemed at once proud, happy,
+delighted--but, as she turned over the last page, her countenance
+expressed disappointment and chagrin. Then she recommenced this reading,
+which had occasioned her such sweet emotion, and this time she read with
+the most deliberate slowness, going over each page twice, and spelling,
+as it were, every line, every word. From time to time, she paused,
+and in a pensive mood, with her forehead leaning on her fair hand, she
+seemed to reflect, in a deep reverie, on the passages she had read with
+such tender and religious love. Arriving at a passage which so affected
+her, that a tear started in her eye, she suddenly turned the volume,
+to see on the cover the name of the author. For a few seconds, she
+contemplated this name with a singular expression of gratitude, and
+could not forbear raising to her rosy lips the page on which it was
+printed. After reading many times over the lines with which she had
+been so much struck, forgetting, no doubt, the letter in the spirit, she
+began to reflect so deeply, that the book glided from her hand, and
+fell upon the carpet. During the course of this reverie, the eyes of the
+young girl rested, at first mechanically, upon an admirable bas-relief,
+placed on an ebony stand, near one of the windows. This magnificent
+bronze, recently cast after a plaster copy from the antique, represented
+the triumph of the Indian Bacchus. Never, perhaps, had Grecian art
+attained such rare perfection. The youthful conqueror, half clad in a
+lion's skin, which displayed his juvenile grace and charming purity
+of form shone with divine beauty. Standing up in a car, drawn by two
+tigers, with an air at once gentle and proud, he leaned with one hand
+upon a thyrsus, and with the other guided his savage steeds in tranquil
+majesty. By this rare mixture of grace, vigor, and serenity, it was easy
+to recognize the hero who had waged such desperate combats with men and
+with monsters of the forest. Thanks to the brownish tone of the figure,
+the light, falling from one side of the sculpture, admirably displayed
+the form of the youthful god, which, carved in relievo, and thus
+illumined, shone like a magnificent statue of pale gold upon the dark
+fretted background of the bronze.
+
+When Adrienne's look first rested on this rare assemblage of divine
+perfections, her countenance was calm and thoughtful. But this
+contemplation, at first mechanical, became gradually more and more
+attentive and conscious, and the young lady, rising suddenly from her
+seat, slowly approached the bas-relief, as if yielding to the invincible
+attraction of an extraordinary resemblance. Then a slight blush appeared
+on the cheeks of Mdlle. de Cardoville, stole across her face, and spread
+rapidly to her neck and forehead. She approached still closer, threw
+round a hasty glance, as if half-ashamed, or as if she had feared to
+be surprised in a blamable action, and twice stretched forth her hand,
+trembling with emotion, to touch with the tips of her charming fingers
+the bronze forehead of the Indian Bacchus. And twice she stopped short,
+with a kind of modest hesitation. At last, the temptation became too
+strong for her. She yielded to it; and her alabaster finger, after
+delicately caressing the features of pale gold, was pressed more boldly
+for an instant on the pure and noble brow of the youthful god. At this
+pressure, though so slight, Adrienne seemed to feel a sort of electric
+shock; she trembled in every limb, her eyes languished, and, after
+swimming for an instant in their humid and brilliant crystal, were
+raised, half-closed, to heaven. Then her head was thrown a little way
+back, her knees bent insensibly, her rosy lips were half opened, as if
+to give a passage to her heated breath, for her bosom heaved violently,
+as thought youth and life had accelerated the pulsations of her heart,
+and made her blood boil in her veins. Finally, the burning cheeks of
+Adrienne betrayed a species of ecstasy, timid and passionate, chaste and
+sensual, the expression of which was ineffably touching.
+
+An affecting spectacle indeed is that of a young maiden, whose modest
+brow flushes with the first fires of a secret passion. Does not the
+Creator of all things animate the body as well as the soul, with a
+spark of divine energy? Should He not be religiously glorified in the
+intellect as in the senses, with which He has so paternally endowed His
+creatures? They are impious blasphemers who seek to stifle the celestial
+senses, instead of guiding and harmonizing them in their divine flight.
+Suddenly, Mdlle. de Cardoville started, raised her head, opened her eyes
+as if awakening from a dream, withdrew abruptly from the sculptures,
+and walked several times up and down the room in an agitated manner,
+pressing her burning hands to her forehead. Then, falling, as it were,
+exhausted on her seat, her tears flowed in abundance. The most bitter
+grief was visible in her features, which revealed the fatal struggle
+that was passing within her. By degrees, her tears ceased. To this
+crisis of painful dejection succeeded a species of violent scorn and
+indignation against herself, which were expressed by these words that
+escaped her: "For the first time in my life, I feel weak and cowardly.
+Oh yes! cowardly--very cowardly!"
+
+The sound of a door opening and closing, roused Mdlle. de Cardoville
+from her bitter reflections. Georgette entered the room, and said to her
+mistress: "Madame, can you receive the Count de Montbron?"
+
+Adrienne, too well-bred to exhibit before her women the sort of
+impatience occasioned by this unseasonable visit, said to Georgette:
+"You told M. de Montbron that I was at home?"
+
+"Yes, Madame."
+
+"Then beg him to walk in." Though Mdlle. de Cardoville felt at that
+moment much vexed at the arrival of Montbron, let us hasten to say,
+that she entertained for him an almost filial affection, and a profound
+esteem, though, by a not unfrequent contrast, she almost always differed
+from him in opinion. Hence arose, when Mdlle. de Cardoville had nothing
+to disturb her mind, the most gay and animated discussions, in which M.
+de Montbron, notwithstanding his mocking and sceptical humor, his
+long experience, his rare knowledge of men and things, his fashionable
+training, in a word, had not always the advantage, and even acknowledged
+his defeat gayly enough. Thus, to give an idea of the differences of
+the count and Adrienne, before, as he would say laughingly, he had made
+himself her accomplice, he had always opposed (from other motives than
+those alleged by Madame de Saint-Dizier) Adrienne's wish to live alone
+and in her own way; whilst Rodin, on the contrary, by investing
+the young girl's resolve on this subject with an ideal grandeur of
+intention, had acquired a species of influence over her. M. de Montbron,
+now upwards of sixty years of age, had been a most prominent character
+during the Directory, Consulate, and the Empire. His prodigal style of
+living, his wit, his gayety, his duels, his amours, and his losses at
+play, had given him a leading influence in the best society of his day;
+while his character, his kind-heartedness, and liberality, secured him
+the lasting friendship of nearly all his female friends. At the time
+we now present him to the reader, he was still a great gambler; and,
+moreover, a very lucky gambler. He had, as we have stated, a very lordly
+style; his manners were decided, but polished and lively; his habits
+were such as belong to the higher classes of society, though he could be
+excessively sharp towards people whom he did not like. He was tall and
+thin, and his slim figure gave him an almost youthful appearance; his
+forehead was high, and a little bald; his hair was gray and short, his
+countenance long, his nose aquiline, his eyes blue and piercing, and his
+teeth white, and still very good.
+
+"The Count de Montbron," said Georgette, opening the door. The count
+entered, and hastened to kiss Adrienne's hand, with a sort of paternal
+familiarity.
+
+"Come!" said M. de Montbron to himself; "let us try to discover the
+truth I am in search of, that we may escape a great misfortune."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE CONFESSION.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, not wishing to betray the cause of the violent
+feelings which agitated her, received M. de Montbron with a feigned and
+forced gayety. On the other hand, notwithstanding his tact and knowledge
+of the world, the count was much embarrassed how to enter upon the
+subject on which he wished to confer with Adrienne, and he resolved
+to feel his way, before seriously commencing the conversation. After
+looking at the young lady for some seconds, M. de Montbron shook
+his head, and said, with a sigh of regret: "My dear child, I am not
+pleased."
+
+"Some affair of the heart, or of hearts, my dear count?" returned
+Adrienne, smiling.
+
+"Of the heart," said M. de Montbron.
+
+"What! you, so great a player, think more of a woman's whim than a throw
+of the dice?"
+
+"I have a heavy heart, and you are the cause of it, my dear child."
+
+"M. de Montbron, you will make me very proud," said Adrienne, with a
+smile.
+
+"You would be wrong, for I tell you plainly, my trouble is caused by
+your neglect of your beauty. Yes, your countenance is pale, dejected,
+sorrowful; you have been low-spirited for the last few days; you have
+something on your mind, I am sure of it."
+
+"My dear M. de Montbron, you have so much penetration, that you may be
+allowed to fall for once, as now. I am not sad, I have nothing on my
+mind, and--I am about to utter a very silly piece of impertinence--I
+have never thought myself so pretty."
+
+"On the contrary, nothing could be more modest than such an assertion.
+Who told you that falsehood? a woman?"
+
+"No; it was my heart, and it spoke the truth," answered Adrienne, with a
+slight degree of emotion. "Understand it, if you can," she added.
+
+"Do you mean that you are proud of the alteration in your features,
+because you are proud of the sufferings of your heart?" said M. de
+Montbron, looking at Adrienne with attention. "Be it so; I am then
+right. You have some sorrow. I persist in it," added the count, speaking
+with a tone of real feeling, "because it is painful to me."
+
+"Be satisfied; I am as happy as possible--for every instant I take
+delight in repeating, how, at my age, I am free--absolutely free!"
+
+"Yes; free to torment yourself, free to be miserable."
+
+"Come, come, my dear count!" said Adrienne, "you are recommencing
+our old quarrel. I still find in you the ally of my aunt and the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny."
+
+"Yes; as the republicans are the allies of the legitimists--to destroy
+each other in their turn. Talking of your abominable aunt, they say that
+she holds a sort of council at her house these last few days, a regular
+mitred conspiracy. She is certainly in a good way."
+
+"Why not? Formerly, she would have wished to be Goddess of Reason, now,
+we shall perhaps see her canonized. She has already performed the first
+part of the life of Mary Magdalen."
+
+"You can never speak worse of her than she deserves, my dear child.
+Still, though for quite opposite reasons, I agreed with her on the
+subject of your wish to reside alone."
+
+"I know it."
+
+"Yes; and because I wished to see you a thousand times freer than you
+really are, I advised you--"
+
+"To marry."
+
+"No doubt; you would have had your dear liberty, with its consequences,
+only, instead of Mdlle. de Cardoville, we should have called you Madame
+Somebody, having found an excellent husband to be responsible for your
+independence."
+
+"And who would have been responsible for this ridiculous husband? And
+who would bear a mocked and degraded name? I, perhaps?" said Adrienne,
+with animation. "No, no, my dear count, good or ill, I will answer for
+my own actions; to my name shall attach the reputation, which I alone
+have formed. I am as incapable of basely dishonoring a name which is
+not mine, as of continually bearing it myself, if it were not held in,
+esteem. And, as one can only answer for one's own actions, I prefer to
+keep my name."
+
+"You are the only person in the world that has such ideas."
+
+"Why?" said Adrienne, laughing. "Because it appears to me horrible,
+to see a poor girl lost and buried in some ugly and selfish man, and
+become, as they say seriously, the better half of the monster--yes! a
+fresh and blooming rose to become part of a frightful thistle!--Come,
+my dear count; confess there is something odious in this conjugal
+metempsychosis," added Adrienne, with a burst of laughter.
+
+The forced and somewhat feverish gayety of Adrienne contrasted painfully
+with her pale and suffering countenance; it was so easy to see that she
+strove to stifle with laughter some deep sorrow, that M. de Montbron
+was much affected by it; but, dissembling his emotion, he appeared to
+reflect a moment, and took up mechanically one of the new, fresh-cut
+books, by which Adrienne was surrounded. After casting a careless glance
+at this volume, he continued, still dissembling his feelings: "Come, my
+dear madcap: this is another folly. Suppose I were twenty years old,
+and that you did me the honor to marry me--you would be called Lady de
+Montbron, I imagine?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"How perhaps? Would you not bear my name, if you married me?"
+
+"My dear count," said Adrienne, with a smile, "do not let us pursue this
+hypothesis, which can only leave us--regrets."
+
+Suddenly, M. de Montbron started, and looked at Mdlle, de Cardoville
+with an expression of surprise. For some moments, whilst talking to
+Adrienne, he had mechanically--taken up two or three of the volumes
+scattered over the couch, and had glanced at their titles in the same
+careless manner. The first was the "Modern History of India." The
+second, "Travels in India." The third, "Letters on India." Much
+surprised, M. de Montbron had continued his investigation, and found
+that the fourth volume continued this Indian nomenclature, being
+"Rambles in India." The fifth was, "Recollections of Hindostan." The
+sixth, "Notes of a Traveller in the East Indies."
+
+Hence the astonishment, which, for many serious reasons, M. de Montbron
+had no longer been able to conceal, and which his looks betrayed to
+Adrienne. The latter, having completely forgotten the presence of the
+accusing volumes by which she was surrounded, yielded to a movement of
+involuntary confusion, and blushed slightly; but, her firm and resolute
+character again coming to her aid, she looked full at M. de Montbron,
+and said to him: "Well, my dear count! what surprises you?"
+
+Instead of answering, M. de Montbron appeared still more absorbed in
+thought, and contemplating the young girl, he could not forbear saying
+to himself: "No, no--it is impossible--and yet--"
+
+"It would, perhaps, be indiscreet in me to listen to your soliloquy, my
+dear count," said Adrienne.
+
+"Excuse me, my dear child; but what I see surprises me so much--"
+
+"And pray what do you see?"
+
+"The traces of so great and novel an interest in all that relates to
+India," said M. de Montbron, laying a slight stress on his words, and
+fixing a piercing look upon the young girl.
+
+"Well!" said Adrienne, stoutly.
+
+"Well! I seek the cause of this sudden passion--"
+
+"Geographical?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, interrupting M. de Montbron:
+"you may find this taste somewhat serious for my age my dear count--but
+one must find occupation for leisure hours--and then, having a cousin,
+who is both an Indian and a prince, I should like to know something of
+the fortunate country from which I derive this savage relationship."
+
+These last words were pronounced with a bitterness that was not lost on
+M. de Montbron: watching Adrienne attentively, he observed: "Meseems,
+you speak of the prince with some harshness."
+
+"No; I speak of him with indifference."
+
+"Yet he deserves a very different feeling."
+
+"On the part of some other person, perhaps," replied Adrienne, dryly.
+
+"He is so unhappy!" said M, de Montbron, in a tone of sincere pity.
+"When I saw him the other day, he made my heart ache."
+
+"What have I to do with it?" exclaimed Adrienne, with an accent of
+painful and almost angry impatience.
+
+"I should have thought that his cruel torments at least deserved your
+pity," answered the count gravely.
+
+"Pity--from me!" cried Adrienne, with an air of offended pride. Then
+restraining herself, she added coldly: "You are jesting, M. de Montbron.
+It is not in sober seriousness that you ask me to take interest in the
+amorous torments of your prince."
+
+There was so much cold disdain in these last words of Adrienne, her pale
+and agitated countenance betrayed such haughty bitterness, that M. de
+Montbron said, sorrowfully: "It is then true; I have not been deceived.
+I, who thought, from our old and constant friendship, that I had some
+claim to your confidence have known nothing of it--while you told all to
+another. It is painful, very painful to me."
+
+"I do not understand you, M. de Montbron."
+
+"Well then, since I must speak plainly," cried the count, "there is, I
+see, no hope for this unhappy boy--you love another."
+
+As Adrienne started--"Oh! you cannot deny it," resumed the count;
+"your paleness and melancholy for the last few days, your implacable
+indifference to the prince--all prove to me that you are in love."
+
+Hurt by the manner in which the count spoke of the sentiment he
+attributed to her, Mdlle. de Cardoville answered with dignified
+stateliness: "You must know, M. de Montbron, that a secret discovered is
+not a confidence. Your language surprises me.
+
+"Oh, my dear friend, if I use the poor privilege of experience--if I
+guess that you are in love--if I tell you so, and even go so far as
+to reproach you with it--it is because the life or death of this poor
+prince is concerned; and I feel for him as if he were my son, for it is
+impossible to know him without taking the warmest interest in him."
+
+"It would be singular," returned Adrienne, with redoubled coldness, and
+still more bitter irony, "if my love--admitting I were in love--could
+have any such strange influence on Prince Djalma. What can it matter to
+him?" added she, with almost agonizing disdain.
+
+"What can it matter to him? Now really, my dear friend, permit me to
+tell you, that it is you who are jesting cruelly. What! this unfortunate
+youth loves you with all the blind ardor of a first love--twice
+has attempted to terminate by suicide the horrible tortures of his
+passion--and you think it strange that your love for another should be
+with him a question of life or death!"
+
+"He loves me then?" cried the young girl, with an accent impossible to
+describe.
+
+"He loves you to madness, I tell you; I have seen it."
+
+Adrienne seemed overcome with amazement. From pale, she became crimson;
+as the redness disappeared, her lips grew white, and trembled. Her
+emotion was so strong, that she remained for some moments unable
+to speak, and pressed her hand to her heart, as if to moderate its
+pulsations.
+
+M. de Montbron, almost frightened at the sudden change in Adrienne's
+countenance, hastily approached her, exclaiming: "Good heaven, my poor
+child! what is the matter?"
+
+Instead of answering, Adrienne waved her hand to him, in sign that
+he should not be alarmed; and, in fact, the count was speedily
+tranquillized, for the beautiful face, which had so lately been
+contracted with pain, irony, and scorn, seemed now expressive of the
+sweetest and most ineffable emotions; Adrienne appeared to luxuriate
+in delight, and to fear losing the least particle of it; then, as
+reflection told her, that she was, perhaps, the dupe of illusion or
+falsehood, she exclaimed suddenly, with anguish, addressing herself to
+M. de Montbron: "But is what you tell me true?"
+
+"What I tell you!"
+
+"Yes--that Prince Djalma--"
+
+"Loves you to madness?--Alas! it is only too true."
+
+"No, no," cried Adrienne, with a charming expression of simplicity;
+"that could never be too true."
+
+"What do you say?" cried the count.
+
+"But that woman?" asked Adrienne, as if the word scorched her lips.
+
+"What woman?"
+
+"She who has been the cause of all these painful struggles."
+
+"That woman--why, who should it be but you?"
+
+"What, I? Oh! tell me, was it I?"
+
+"On my word of honor. I trust my experience. I have never seen so ardent
+and sincere a passion."
+
+"Oh! is it really so? Has he never had any other love?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Yet I was told so."
+
+"By whom?"
+
+"M. Rodin."
+
+"That Djalma--"
+
+"Had fallen violently in love, two days after I saw him."
+
+"M. Rodin told you that!" cried M. de Montbron, as if struck with a
+sudden idea. "Why, it is he who told Djalma that you were in love with
+some one else."
+
+"I!"
+
+"And this it was which occasioned the poor youth's dreadful despair."
+
+"It was this which occasioned my despair."
+
+"You love him, then, just as he loves you!" exclaimed M. de Montbron,
+transported with joy.
+
+"Love him!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville. A discreet knock at the door
+interrupted Adrienne.
+
+"One of your servants, no doubt. Be calm," said the count.
+
+"Come in," said Adrienne, in an agitated voice.
+
+"What is it?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville. Florine entered the room.
+
+"M. Rodin has just been here. Fearing to disturb mademoiselle, he would
+not come in; but he will return in half an hour. Will mademoiselle
+receive him?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said the count to Florine; "even if I am still here, show
+him in by all means. Is not that your opinion?" asked M. de Montbron of
+Adrienne.
+
+"Quite so," answered the young girl; and a flash of indignation darted
+from her eyes, as she thought of Rodin's perfidy.
+
+"Oho! the old knave!" said M. de Montbron, "I always had my doubts
+of that crooked neck!" Florine withdrew, leaving the count with her
+mistress.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. LOVE.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was transfigured. For the first time her beauty
+shone forth in all its lustre. Until now overshadowed by indifference,
+or darkened by grief, she appeared suddenly illumined by a brilliant ray
+of sunshine. The slight irritation caused by Rodin's perfidy passed like
+an imperceptible shade from her brow. What cared she now for falsehood
+and perfidy? Had they not failed? And, for the future, what human power
+could interpose between her and Djalma, so sure of each other? Who would
+dare to cross the path of those two things, resolute and strong with the
+irresistible power of youth, love, and liberty? Who would dare to follow
+them into that blazing sphere, whither they went, so beautiful and
+happy, to blend together in their inextinguishable love, protected by
+the proof armor of their own happiness? Hardly had Florine left the
+room, when Adrienne approached M. de Montbron with a rapid step.
+She seemed to have become taller; and to watch her advancing, light,
+radiant, and triumphant, one might have fancied her a goddess walking
+upon clouds.
+
+"When shall I see him?" was her first word to M. de Montbron.
+
+"Well--say to-morrow; he must be prepared for so much happiness; in so
+ardent a nature, such sudden, unexpected joy might be terrible."
+
+Adrienne remained pensive for a moment, and then said rapidly: "To
+morrow--yes--not before to-morrow. I have a superstition of the heart."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"You shall know. HE LOVES ME--that word says all, contains all,
+comprehends all, is all--and yet I have a thousand questions to ask
+with regard to him--but I will ask none before to-morrow, because, by a
+mysterious fatality, to-morrow is with me a sacred anniversary. It will
+be an age till then; but happily, I can wait. Look here!"
+
+Beckoning M. de Montbron, she led him to the Indian Bacchus. "How much
+it is like him!" said she to the count.
+
+"Indeed," exclaimed the latter, "it is strange!"
+
+"Strange?" returned Adrienne, with a smile of gentle pride; "strange,
+that a hero, a demi-god, an ideal of beauty, should resemble Djalma?"
+
+"How you love him!" said M. de Montbron, deeply touched, and almost
+dazzled by the felicity which beamed from the countenance of Adrienne.
+
+"I must have suffered a good deal, do you not think so?" said she, after
+a moment's silence.
+
+"If I had not made up my mind to come here to-day, almost in despair,
+what would have happened?"
+
+"I cannot tell; I should perhaps have died, for I am wounded mortally
+here"--she pressed her hand to her heart. "But what might have been
+death to me, will now be life."
+
+"It was horrible," said the count, shuddering. "Such a passion, buried
+in your own breast, proud as you are--"
+
+"Yes, proud--but not self-conceited. When I learned his love for
+another, and that the impression which I fancied I had made on him at
+our first interview had been immediately effaced, I renounced all hope,
+without being able to renounce my love. Instead of shunning his image,
+I surrounded myself with all that could remind me of him. In default
+of happiness, there is a bitter pleasure in suffering through what we
+love."
+
+"I can now understand your Indian library."
+
+Instead of answering the count, Adrienne took from the stand one of the
+freshly-cut volumes, and, bringing it to M. de Montbron, said to him,
+with a smile and a celestial expression of joy and happiness: "I was
+wrong--I am vain. Just read this--aloud, if you please. I tell you that
+I can wait for to-morrow." Presenting the book to the count, she pointed
+out one passage with the tip of her charming finger. Then she sank down
+upon the couch, and, in an attitude of deep attention, with her body
+bent forward, her hands crossed upon the cushion, her chin resting upon
+her hands, her large eyes fixed with a sort of adoration on the Indian
+Bacchus, that was just opposite to her, she appeared by this impassioned
+contemplation to prepare herself to listen to M. de Montbron.
+
+The latter, much astonished, began to read, after again looking at
+Adrienne, who said to him, in her most coaxing voice, "Very slowly, I
+beg of you."
+
+M. de Montbron then read the following passage from the journal of a
+traveller in India: "'When I was at Bombay, in 1829, I constantly heard
+amongst the English there, of a young hero, the son of--'"
+
+The count having paused a second, by reason of the barbarous spelling
+of the name of Djalma's father, Adrienne immediately said to him, in her
+soft voice: "The son of Kadja-sing."
+
+"What a memory!" said the count, with a smile. And he resumed: "'A young
+hero, the son of Kadja-sing, king of Mundi. On his return from a distant
+and sanguinary expedition amongst the mountains against this Indian
+king, Colonel Drake was filled with enthusiasm for this son of
+Kadja-sing, known as Djalma. Hardly beyond the age of childhood, this
+young prince has in the course of this implacable war given proofs
+of such chivalrous intrepidity, and of so noble a character, that his
+father has been surnamed the Father of the Generous.'"
+
+"That is a touching custom," said the count. "To recompense the father,
+as it were, by giving him a surname in honor of his son, is a great
+idea. But how strange you should have met with this book!" added the
+count, in surprise. "I can understand; there is matter here to inflame
+the coolest head."
+
+"Oh! you will see, you will see," said Adrienne.
+
+The count continued to read: "'Colonel Drake, one of the bravest and
+best officers of the English army, said yesterday, in my presence, that
+having been dangerously wounded, and taken prisoner by Prince Djalma,
+after an energetic resistance, he had been conveyed to the camp
+established in the village of--"
+
+Here there was the same hesitation on the part of the count, on seeing
+a still more barbarous name than the first; so, not wishing to try the
+adventure, he paused, and said to Adrienne, "Now really, I give this
+up."
+
+"And yet it is so easy!" replied Adrienne; and she pronounced with
+inexpressible softness, a name in itself soft, "The village of
+Shumshabad."
+
+"You appear to have an infallible process for remembering geographical
+names," said the count, continuing: "'Once arrived at the camp, Colonel
+Drake received the kindest hospitality, and Prince Djalma treated
+him with the respect of a son. It was there that the colonel became
+acquainted with some facts, which carried to the highest pitch his
+enthusiasm for prince Djalma. I heard him relate the two following.
+
+"'In one of the battles, the prince was accompanied by a young Indian of
+about twelve years of age, whom he loved tenderly, and who served him
+as a page, following him on horseback to carry his spare weapons.
+This child was idolized by its mother; just as they set out on the
+expedition, she had entrusted her son to Prince Djalma's care, saying,
+with a stoicism worthy of antiquity, "Let him be your brother." "He
+shall be my brother," had replied the prince. In the height of a
+disastrous defeat, the child is severely wounded, and his horse killed;
+the prince, at peril of his life, notwithstanding the perception of a
+forced retreat, disengages him, and places him on the croup of his own
+horse; they are pursued; a musket-ball strikes their steed, who is just
+able to reach a jungle, in the midst of which, after some vain efforts,
+he falls exhausted. The child is unable to walk, but the prince carries
+him in his arms, and hides with him in the thickest part of the jungle.
+The English arrive, and begin their search; but the two victims escape.
+After a night and a day of marches, counter-marches, stratagems,
+fatigues, unheard-of perils, the prince, still, carrying the child, one
+of whose legs is broken, arrives at his father's camp, and says, with
+the utmost simplicity, "I had promised his mother that I would act a
+brother's part by him--and I have done so."'
+
+"That is admirable!" cried the count.
+
+"Go on--pray go on!" said Adrienne, drying a tear, without removing
+her eyes from the bas-relief, which she continued to contemplate with
+growing adoration.
+
+The count continued: "'Another time, Prince Djalma, followed by two
+black slaves, went, before sunrise, to a very wild spot, to seize a
+couple of tiger cubs only a few days old. The den had been previously
+discovered. The two old tigers were still abroad. One of the blacks
+entered the den by a narrow aperture; the other, aided by Djalma,
+cut down a tolerably large tree, to prepare a trap for one of the old
+tigers. On the side of the aperture, the cavern was exceedingly steep.
+The prince mounted to the top of it with agility, to set his trap, with
+the aid of the other black. Suddenly, a dreadful roar was heard; and, in
+a few bounds, the tigress, returning from the chase, reached the opening
+of the den. The black who was laying the trap with the prince had his
+skull fractured by her bite; the tree, falling across the entrance,
+prevented the female from penetrating the cavern, and at the same time
+stopped the exit of the black who had seized the cubs.
+
+"'About twenty feet higher, upon a ledge of rock, the prince lay flat
+on the ground, looking down upon this frightful spectacle. The tigress,
+rendered furious by the cries of her little ones, gnawed the hands of
+the black, who, from the interior of the den, strove to support
+the trunk of the tree, his only rampart, whilst he uttered the most
+lamentable outcries.'
+
+"It is horrible!" said the count.
+
+"Oh! go on! pray go on!" exclaimed Adrienne, with excitement; "you will
+see what can be achieved by the heroism of goodness."
+
+The count pursued: "'Suddenly the prince seized his dagger between his
+teeth, fastened his sash to a block of stone, took his axe in one hand,
+and with the other slid down this substitute for a rope; falling a few
+steps from the wild beast, he sprang upon her, and, swift as lightning,
+dealt her two mortal strokes, just as the black, losing his strength,
+was about to drop the trunk of the tree, sure to have been torn to
+pieces.'"
+
+"And you are astonished at his resemblance with the demi-god, to whom
+fable itself ascribes no more generous devotion!" cried the young lady,
+with still increasing excitement.
+
+"I am astonished no longer, I only admire," said the count, in a voice
+of emotion; "and, at these two noble instances of heroism, my heart
+beats with enthusiasm, as if I were still twenty."
+
+"And the noble heart of this traveller beat like yours at the recital,"
+said Adrienne; "you will see."
+
+"'What renders so admirable the intrepidity of the prince, is, that,
+according to the principle of Indian castes, the life of a slave is of
+no importance; thus a king's son, risking his life for the safety of
+a poor creature, so generally despised, obeyed an heroic and truly
+Christian instinct of charity, until then unheard of in this country."
+
+"'Two such actions,' said Colonel Drake, with good reason, 'are
+sufficient to paint the man; it is with a feeling of profound respect
+and admiration, therefore, that I, an obscure traveller, have written
+the name of Prince Djalma in my book; and at the same time, I have
+experienced a kind of sorrow, when I have asked myself what would be the
+future fate of this prince, buried in the depths of a savage country,
+always devastated by war. However humble may be the homage that I pay
+to this character, worthy of the heroic age, his name will at least be
+repeated with generous enthusiasm by all those who have hearts that beat
+in sympathy with what is great and noble.'"
+
+"And just now, when I read those simple and touching lines," resumed
+Adrienne, "I could not forbear pressing my lips to the name of the
+traveller."
+
+"Yes; he is such as I thought him," cried the count, with still more
+emotion, as he returned the book to Adrienne, who rose, with a grave and
+touching air, and said to him: "It was thus I wished you to know him,
+that you might understand my adoration; for this courage, this heroic
+goodness, I had guessed beforehand, when I was an involuntary listener
+to his conversation. From that moment, I knew him to be generous as
+intrepid, tender and sensitive as energetic and resolute; and when I saw
+him so marvellously beautiful--so different, in the noble character of
+his countenance, and even in the style of his garments, from all I had
+hitherto met with--when I saw the impression that I made upon him, and
+which I perhaps felt still more violently--I knew that my whole life was
+bound up with his love."
+
+"And now, what are your plans?"
+
+"Divine, radiant as my heart. When he learns his happiness, I wish that
+Djalma should feel dazzled as I do, so as to prevent my gazing on my
+sun; for I repeat, that until tomorrow will be a century to me. Yes, it
+is strange! I should have thought that after such a discovery, I should
+feel the want of being left alone, plunged in an ocean of delicious
+dreams. But no! from this time till to-morrow--I dread solitude--I
+feel a kind of feverish impatience--uneasy--ardent--Oh! where is the
+beneficent fairy, that, touching me with her wand, will lull me into
+slumber till to-morrow!"
+
+"I will be that beneficent fairy," said the count, smiling.
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes, I."
+
+"And how so?"
+
+"The power of my wand is this: I will relieve you from a portion of your
+thoughts by making them materially visible."
+
+"Pray explain yourself."
+
+"And my plan will have another advantage for you. Listen to me; you
+are so happy now that you can hear anything. Your odious aunt, and her
+equally odious friends, are spreading the report that your residence
+with Dr. Baleinier--"
+
+"Was rendered necessary by the derangement of my mind," said Adrienne,
+with a smile; "I expected that."
+
+"It is stupid enough; but, as your resolution to live alone makes many
+envious of you, and many hostile, you must feel that there will be no
+want of persons ready to believe the most absurd calumny possible."
+
+"I hope as much. To pass for mad in the eyes of fools is very
+flattering."
+
+"Yes; but to prove to fools that they are fools, and that in the face
+of all Paris, is much more amusing. Now, people begin to talk of your
+absence; you have given up your daily rides; for some time my niece has
+appeared alone in our box at the Opera; you wish to kill the time till
+to-morrow--well! here is an excellent opportunity. It is two o'clock;
+at halfpast three, my niece will come in the carriage; the weather is
+splendid; there is sure to be a crowd in the Bois de Boulogne. You can
+take a delightful ride, and be seen by everybody. Then, as the air and
+movement will have calmed your fever of happiness, I will commence my
+magic this evening, and take you to India."
+
+"To India?"
+
+"Into the midst of one of those wild forests, in which roar the lion,
+the panther, and the tiger. We will have this heroic combat, which so
+moved you just now, under our own eyes, in all its terrible reality."
+
+"Really, my dear count, you must be joking."
+
+"Not at all; I promise to show you real wild beasts, formidable tenants
+of the country of our demigod--growling tigers--roaring lions--do you
+not think that will be better than books?"
+
+"But how?"
+
+"Come! I must give you the secret of my supernatural power. On returning
+from your ride, you shall dine with my niece, and we will go together
+to a very curious spectacle now exhibiting at the Porte-Saint-Martin
+Theatre. A most extraordinary lion-tamer there shows you a number of
+wild beasts, in a state of nature, in the midst of a forest (here only
+commences the illusion), and has fierce combats with them all--tigers,
+lions, and panthers. All Paris is crowding to these representations, and
+all Paris will see you there, more charming than ever."
+
+"I accept your offer," said Adrienne, with childish delight. "Yes,
+you are right. I feel a strange pleasure in beholding these ferocious
+monsters, who will remind me of those that my demi-god so heroically
+overcame. I accept also, because, for the first time in my life, I am
+anxious to be admired--even by everybody. I accept finally because--"
+Here Mdlle. de Cardoville was interrupted by a low knock at the door,
+and by the entrance of Florine, who announced M. Rodin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. THE EXECUTION.
+
+Rodin entered. A rapid glance at Mdlle. de Cardoville and M. de Montbron
+told him at once that he was in a dilemma. In fact, nothing could be
+less encouraging than the faces of Adrienne and the count. The latter,
+when he disliked people, exhibited his antipathy, as we have already
+said, by an impertinently aggressive manner, which had before now
+occasioned a good number of duels. At sight of Rodin, his countenance at
+once assumed a harsh and insolent expression; resting his elbow on the
+chimney-piece, and conversing with Adrienne, he looked disdainfully over
+his shoulder, without taking the least notice of the Jesuit's low bow.
+On the other hand, at sight of this man, Mdlle. de Cardoville almost
+felt surprise, that she should experience no movement of anger or
+hatred. The brilliant flame which burned in her heart, purified it from
+every vindictive sentiment. She smiled, on the contrary; for, glancing
+with gentle pride at the Indian Bacchus, and then at herself, she asked
+herself what two beings, so young, and fair, and free, and loving,
+could have to fear from this old, sordid man, with his ignoble and base
+countenance, now advancing towards her with the writhing of a reptile.
+In a word, far from feeling anger or aversion with regard to Rodin, the
+young lady seemed full of the spirit of mocking gayety, and her large
+eyes, already lighted up with happiness, now sparkled with irony and
+mischief. Rodin felt himself ill at ease. People of his stamp greatly
+prefer violent to mocking enemies. They can encounter bursts of
+rage--sometimes by falling on their knees, weeping, groaning, and
+beating their breasts--sometimes by turning on their adversary, armed
+and implacable. But they are easily disconcerted by biting raillery; and
+thus it was with Rodin. He saw that between Adrienne de Cardoville and
+M. de Montbron, he was about to be placed in what is vulgarly termed a
+"regular fix."
+
+The count opened the fire; still glancing over his shoulder, he said to
+Rodin: "Ah! you are here, my benevolent gentleman!"
+
+"Pray, sir, draw a little nearer," said Adrienne, with a mocking smile.
+"Best of friends and model of philosophers--as well as declared enemy of
+all fraud and falsehood--I have to pay you a thousand compliments."
+
+"I accent anything from you, my dear young lady, even though
+undeserved," said the Jesuit, trying to smile, and thus exposing his
+vile yellow teeth; "but may I be informed how I have earned these
+compliments?"
+
+"Your penetration, sir, which is rare--" replied Adrienne.
+
+"And your veracity, sir," said the count, "which is perhaps no less
+rare--"
+
+"In what have I exhibited my penetration, my dear young lady?" said
+Rodin, coldly. "In what my veracity?" added he, turning towards M. de
+Montbron.
+
+"In what, sir?" said Adrienne. "Why, you have guessed a secret
+surrounded by difficulties and mystery. In a word, you have known how to
+read the depths of a woman's heart."
+
+"I, my dear young lady?"
+
+"You, sir! rejoice at it, for your penetration has had the most
+fortunate results."
+
+"And your veracity has worked wonders," added the count.
+
+"It is pleasant to do good, even without knowing it," said Rodin, still
+acting on the defensive, and throwing side glances by turns on the count
+and Adrienne; "but will you inform me what it is that deserves this
+praise--"
+
+"Gratitude obliges me to inform you of it," said Adrienne, maliciously;
+"you have discovered, and told Prince Djalma, that I was passionately in
+love. Well! I admire your penetration; it was true."
+
+"You have also discovered, and told this lady, that Prince Djalma
+was passionately in love," resumed the count. "Well! I admire your
+penetration, my dear sir; it was true."
+
+Rodin looked confused, and at a loss for a reply.
+
+"The person that I loved so passionately," said Adrienne, "was the
+prince."
+
+"The person that the prince loved so passionately," resumed the count,
+"was this lady."
+
+These revelations, so sudden and alarming, almost stunned Rodin; he
+remained mute and terrified, thinking of the future.
+
+"Do you understand now, sir, the extent of our gratitude towards
+you?" resumed Adrienne, in a still more mocking tone. "Thanks to your
+sagacity, thanks to the touching interest you take in us, the prince and
+I are indebted to you for the knowledge of our mutual sentiments."
+
+The Jesuit had now gradually recovered his presence of mind, and
+his apparent calmness greatly irritated M. de Montbron, who, but for
+Adrienne's presence, would have assumed another tone than jests.
+
+"There is some mistake," said Rodin, "in what you have done me the honor
+to tell me, my dear young lady. I have never in my life spoken of the
+sentiments, however worthy and respectable, that you may entertain for
+Prince Djalma--"
+
+"That is true," replied Adrienne; "with scrupulous and exquisite
+discretion, whenever you spoke to me of the deep love felt by Prince
+Djalma, you carried your reserve and delicacy so far as to inform me
+that it was not I whom he loved."
+
+"And the same scruple induced you to tell the prince that Mdlle. de
+Cardoville loved some one passionately--but that he was not the person,"
+added the count.
+
+"Sir," answered Rodin, dryly, "I need hardly tell you that I have no
+desire to mix myself up with amorous intrigues."
+
+"Come! this is either pride or modesty," said the count, insolently.
+"For your own interest, pray do not advance such things; for, if we took
+you at your word, and it became known, it might injure some of the nice
+little trades that you carry on."
+
+"There is one at least," said Rodin, drawing himself up as proudly as
+M. de Montbron, "whose rude apprenticeship I shall owe to you. It is the
+wearisome one of listening to your discourse."
+
+"I tell you what, my good sir!" replied the count, disdainfully: "you
+force me to remind you that there are more ways than one of chastising
+impudent rogues."
+
+"My dear count!" said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with an air of
+reproach.
+
+With perfect coolness, Rodin replied: "I do not exactly see, sir, first,
+what courage is shown by threatening a poor old man like myself, and,
+secondly--"
+
+"M. Rodin," said the count, interrupting the Jesuit, "first, a poor old
+man like you, who does evil under the shelter of the age he dishonors,
+is both cowardly and wicked, and deserves a double chastisement;
+secondly, with regard to this question of age, I am not aware that
+gamekeepers and policemen bow down respectfully to the gray coats of old
+wolves, and the gray hairs of old thieves. What do you think, my good
+sir?"
+
+Still impassible, Rodin raised his flabby eyelids, fixed for hardly a
+second his little reptile eye upon the count, and darted at him one of
+his rapid, cold, and piercing glances--and then the livid eyelid again
+covered the dull eye of that corpse-like face.
+
+"Not having the disadvantage of being an old wolf, and still less an
+old thief," said Rodin, quietly, "you will permit me, sir, to take no
+account of the pursuit of hunters and police. As for the reproaches made
+me, I have a very simple method of answering--I do not say of justifying
+myself--I never justify myself--"
+
+"You don't say!" said the count.
+
+"Never," resumed Rodin coolly; "my acts are sufficient for that. I
+will then simply answer that seeing the deep, violent, almost fearful
+impression made by this lady on the prince--"
+
+"Let this assurance which you give me of the prince's love," said
+Adrienne interrupting Rodin with an enchanting smile, "absolve you of
+all the evil you wished to do me. The sight of our happiness be your
+only punishment!"
+
+"It may be that I need neither absolution nor punishment, for, as I have
+already had the honor to observe to the count, my dear young lady, the
+future will justify my acts. Yes; it was my duty to tell the prince that
+you loved another than himself, and to tell you that he loved another
+than yourself--all in your mutual interest. That my attachment for you
+may have misled me, is possible--I am not infallible; but, after my past
+conduct towards you, my dear young lady, I have, perhaps, some right to
+be astonished at seeing myself thus treated. This is not a complaint. If
+I never justify myself, I never complain either."
+
+"Now really, there is something heroic in all this, my good sir," said
+the count. "You do not condescend to complain or justify yourself, with
+regard to the evil you have done."
+
+"The evil I have done?" said Rodin, looking fixedly at the count. "Are
+we playing at enigmas?"
+
+"What, sir!" cried the count, with indignation: "is it nothing, by your
+falsehoods, to have plunged the prince into so frightful a state of
+despair, that he has twice attempted his life? Is it nothing, by similar
+falsehoods, to have induced this lady to believe so cruel and complete
+an error, that but for the resolution I have to-day taken, it might have
+led to the most fatal consequences?"
+
+"And will you do me the honor to tell me, sir, what interest I could
+have in all this despair and error, admitting even that I had wished to
+produce them?"
+
+"Some great interest no doubt," said the count, bluntly; "the more
+dangerous that it is concealed. You are one of those, I see, to whom the
+woes of others are pleasure and profit."
+
+"That is really too much, sir," said Rodin, bowing; "I should be quite
+contented with the profit."
+
+"Your impudent coolness will not deceive me; this is a serious matter,"
+said the count. "It is impossible that so perfidious a piece of roguery
+can be an isolated act. Who knows but this may still be one of the
+fruits of Madame de Saint-Dizier's hatred for Mdlle. de Cardoville?"
+
+Adrienne had listened to the preceding discussion with deep attention.
+Suddenly she started, as if struck by a sudden revelation.
+
+After a moment's silence, she said to Rodin, without anger, without
+bitterness, but with an expression of gentle and serene calmness: "We
+are told, sir, that happy love works miracles. I should be tempted
+to believe it; for, after some minutes' reflection, and when I recall
+certain circumstances, your conduct appears to me in quite a new light."
+
+"And what may this new perspective be, my dear young lady?"
+
+"That you may see it from my point of view, sir, allow me to remind you
+of a few facts. That sewing-girl was generously devoted to me; she had
+given me unquestionable proofs of her attachment. Her mind was equal
+to her noble heart; but she had an invincible dislike to you. All on a
+sudden she disappears mysteriously from my house, and you do your
+best to cast upon her odious suspicions. M. de Montbron has a paternal
+affection for me; but, as I must confess, little sympathy for you; and
+you have always tried to produce a coldness between us. Finally, Prince
+Djalma has a deep affection for me, and you employ the most perfidious
+treachery to kill that sentiment within him. For what end do you act
+thus? I do not know; but certainly with some hostile design."
+
+"It appears to me, madame," said Rodin, severely, "that you have
+forgotten services performed."
+
+"I do not deny, sir, that you took me from the house of Dr. Baleinier;
+but, a few days sooner or later, I must infallibly have been released by
+M. de Montbron."
+
+"You are right, my dear child," said the count; "it may be that your
+enemies wished to claim the merit of what must necessarily have happened
+through the exertions of your friends."
+
+"You are drowning, and I save you--it is all a mistake to feel
+grateful," said Rodin, bitterly; "some one else would no doubt have
+saved you a little later."
+
+"The comparison is wanting in exactness," said Adrienne, with a smile;
+"a lunatic asylum is not a river, and though, from what I see, I think
+you quite capable of diving, you have had no occasion to swim on this
+occasion. You merely opened a door for me, which would have opened of
+itself a little later."
+
+"Very good, my dear child!" said the count, laughing heartily at
+Adrienne's reply.
+
+"I know, sir, that your care did not extend to me only. The daughters
+of Marshal Simon were brought back by you; but we may imagine that the
+claim of the Duke de Ligny to the possession of his daughters would not
+have been in vain. You returned to an old soldier his imperial cross,
+which he held to be a sacred relic; it is a very touching incident.
+Finally, you unmasked the Abbe d'Aigrigny and Dr. Baleinier: but I had
+already made up my mind to unmask then. However, all this proves that
+you are a very clever man--"
+
+"Oh, madame!" said Rodin, humbly.
+
+"Full of resources and invention--"
+
+"Oh, madame!"
+
+"It is not my fault if, in our long interview at Dr. Baleinier's, you
+betrayed that superiority of mind which struck me so forcibly, and
+which seems to embarrass you so much at present. What would you have,
+sir?--great minds like yours find it difficult to maintain their
+incognito. Yet, as by different ways--oh! very different," added the
+young lady, maliciously, "we are tending to the same end (still keeping
+in view our conversation at Dr. Baleinier's), I wish, for the sake of
+our future communion, as you call it, to give you a piece of advice, and
+speak frankly to you."
+
+Rodin had listened to Mdlle. de Cardoville with apparent impassibility,
+holding his hat under his arm, and twirling his thumbs, whilst his hands
+were crossed upon his waistcoat. The only external mark of the intense
+agitation into which he was thrown by the calm words of Adrienne, was
+that the livid eyelids of the Jesuit, which had been hypocritically
+closed, became gradually red, as the blood flowed into them.
+Nevertheless, he answered Mdlle. de Cardoville in a firm voice, and with
+a low bow: "Good advice and frankness are always excellent things."
+
+"You see, sir," resumed Adrienne, with some excitement, "happy love
+bestows such penetration, such energy, such courage, as enables one to
+laugh at perils, to detect stratagems, and to defy hatred. Believe me,
+the divine light which surrounds two loving hearts will be sufficient to
+disperse all darkness, and reveal every snare. You see, in India--excuse
+my weakness, but I like to talk of India," added the young girl, with
+a smile of indescribable grace and meaning--"in India, when travellers
+sleep at night, they kindle great fires round their ajoupa (excuse this
+touch of local coloring), and far as extends the luminous circle, it
+puts to flight by its mere brilliancy, all the impure and venomous
+reptiles that shun the day and live only in darkness."
+
+"The meaning of this comparison has quite escaped me," said Rodin,
+continuing to twirl his thumbs, and half raising his eyelids, which were
+getting redder and redder.
+
+"I will speak more plainly," said Adrienne, with a smile. "Suppose,
+sir, that the last is a service which you have rendered me and the
+prince--for you only proceed by way of services--that, I acknowledge, is
+novel and ingenious."
+
+"Bravo, my dear child!" said the count, joyfully. "The execution will be
+complete."
+
+"Oh! this is meant for an execution?" said Rodin, still impassible.
+
+"No, sir," answered Adrienne, with a smile; "it is a simple conversation
+between a poor young girl and an old philosopher, the friend of
+humanity. Suppose, then, that these frequent services that you have
+rendered to me and mine have suddenly opened my eyes; or, rather," added
+the young girl, in a serious tone, "suppose that heaven, who gives to
+the mother the instinct to defend her child, has given me, along with
+happiness, the instinct to preserve my happiness, and that a vague
+presentiment, by throwing light on a thousand circumstances until now
+obscure, has suddenly revealed to me that, instead of being the friend,
+you are perhaps, the most dangerous enemy of myself and family."
+
+"So we pass from the execution to suppositions," said Rodin, still
+immovable.
+
+"And from suppositions, sir, if you must have it, to certainty," resumed
+Adrienne, with dignified firmness; "yes, now I believe that I was for
+awhile your dupe, and I tell you, without hate, without anger, but with
+regret--that it is painful to see a man of your sense and intelligence
+stoop to such machinations, and, after having recourse to so many
+diabolical manoeuvres, finish at last by being ridiculous; for, believe
+me, there is nothing more ridiculous for a man like you, than to
+be vanquished by a young girl, who has no weapon, no defence, no
+instructor, but her love. In a word, sir, I look upon you from to-day as
+an implacable and dangerous enemy; for I half perceive your aim, without
+guessing by what means you will seek to accomplish it, No doubt your
+future means will be worthy of the past. Well! in spite of all this,
+I do not fear you. From tomorrow, my family will be informed of
+everything, and an active, intelligent, resolute union will keep us all
+upon our guard, for it doubtless concerns this enormous inheritance, of
+which they wish to deprive us. Now, what connection can there be between
+the wrongs I reproach you with and the pecuniary end proposed? I do
+not at all know--but you have told me yourself that our enemies are
+so dangerously skillful, and their craft so far-reaching, that we must
+expect all, be prepared for all. I will remember the lesson. I have
+promised you frankness, sir, and now I suppose you have it."
+
+"It would be an imprudent frankness if I were your enemy," said Rodin,
+still impassible; "but you also promised me some advice, my dear young
+lady."
+
+"My advice will be short; do not attempt to continue the struggle,
+because, you see, there is something stronger than you and yours--it is
+a woman's resolve, defending her happiness."
+
+Adrienne pronounced these last words with so sovereign a confidence; her
+beautiful countenance shone, as is it were, with such intrepid joy,
+that Rodin, notwithstanding his phlegmatic audacity, was for a moment
+frightened. Yet he did not appear in the least disconcerted; and, after
+a moment's silence, he resumed, with an air of almost contemptuous
+compassion: "My dear young lady, we may perhaps never meet again; it is
+probable. Only remember one thing, which I now repeat to you: I never
+justify myself. The future will provide for that. Notwithstanding which,
+my dear young lady, I am your humble servant;" and he made her a low
+bow.
+
+"Count, I beg to salute you most respectfully," he added, bowing still
+more humbly to M. de Montbron; and he went out.
+
+Hardly had Rodin left the room than Adrienne ran to her desk, and
+writing a few hasty lines, sealed the note, and said to M. de Montbron:
+"I shall not see the prince before to-morrow--as much from superstition
+of the heart as because it is necessary for my plans that this interview
+should be attended with some little solemnity. You shall know all; but I
+write to him on the instant, for, with an enemy like M. Rodin, one must
+be prepared for all."
+
+"You are right, my dear child; quick! the letter." Adrienne gave it to
+him.
+
+"I tell him enough," said she, "to calm his grief; and not enough to
+deprive me of the delicious happiness of the surprise I reserve for to
+morrow."
+
+"All this has as much sense as heart in it: I will hasten to the
+prince's abode, to deliver your letter. I shall not see him, for I
+could not answer for myself. But come! our proposed drive, our evening's
+amusement, are still to hold good."
+
+"Certainly. I have more need than ever to divert my thoughts till
+to morrow. I feel, too, that the fresh air will do me good, for this
+interview with M. Rodin has warmed me a little."
+
+"The old wretch! but we will talk further of him. I will hasten to the
+prince's and return with Madame de Morinval, to fetch you to the Champs
+Elysees."
+
+The Count de Montbron withdrew precipitately, as joyful at his departure
+as he had been sad on his arrival.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE CHAMPS-ELYSEES
+
+It was about two hours after the interview of Rodin with Mdlle. de
+Cardoville. Numerous loungers, attracted to the Champs-Elysees by the
+serenity of a fine spring day (it was towards the end of the month of
+March) stopped to admire a very handsome equipage. A bright-blue open
+carriage, with white-and-blue wheels, drawn by four superb horses,
+of cream color, with black manes, and harness glittering with silver
+ornaments, mounted by two boy postilions of equal size, with black
+velvet caps, light-blue cassimere jackets with white collars, buckskin
+breeches, and top-boots; two tall, powdered footmen, also in light-blue
+livery, with white collars and facings, being seated in the rumble
+behind.
+
+No equipage could have been turned out in better style. The horses, full
+of blood, spirit, and vigor, were skillfully managed by the postilions,
+and stepped with singular regularity, gracefully keeping time in their
+movements, champing their bits covered with foam, and ever and anon
+shaking their cockades of blue and white silk, with long floating ends,
+and a bright rose blooming in the midst.
+
+A man on horseback, dressed with elegant simplicity, keeping at the
+other side of the avenue, contemplated with proud satisfaction
+this equipage which he had, as it were, created. It was M. de
+Bonneville--Adrienne's equerry, as M. de Montbron called him--for the
+carriage belonged to that young lady. A change had taken place in the
+plan for this magic day's amusement. M. de Montbron had not been able to
+deliver Mdlle. de Cardoville's note to Prince Djalma. Faringhea had told
+him that the prince had gone that morning into the country with Marshal
+Simon, and would not be back before evening. The letter should be given
+him on his arrival. Completely satisfied as to Djalma, knowing that
+he could find these few lines, which, without informing him of the
+happiness that awaited him, would at least give him some idea of it,
+Adrienne had followed the advice of M. de Montbron, and gone to the
+drive in her own carriage, to show all the world that she had quite
+made up her mind, in spite of the perfidious reports circulated by the
+Princess de Saint Dizier, to keep to her resolution of living by herself
+in her own way. Adrienne wore a small white bonnet, with a fall of
+blonde, which well became her rosy face and golden hair; her high
+dress of garnet-colored velvet was almost hidden beneath a large green
+cashmere shawl. The young Marchioness de Morinval, who was also very
+pretty and elegant, was seated at her right. M. de Montbron occupied the
+front seat of the carriage.
+
+Those who know the Parisian world, or rather, that imperceptible
+fraction of the world of Paris which goes every fine, sunny day to the
+Champs Elysees, to see and be seen, will understand that the presence
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville on that brilliant promenade was an extraordinary
+and interesting event.
+
+The world (as it is called) could hardly believe its eyes, on seeing
+this lady of eighteen, possessed of princely wealth, and belonging to
+the highest nobility, thus prove to every one, by this appearance in
+public, that she was living completely free and independent, contrary to
+all custom and received notions of propriety. This kind of emancipation
+appeared something monstrous, and people were almost astonished that
+the graceful and dignified bearing of the young lady should belie so
+completely the calumnies circulated by Madame de Saint-Dizier and her
+friends, with regard to the pretended madness of her niece. Many beaux,
+profiting by their acquaintance with the Marchioness de Morinval or M.
+de Montbron, came by turns to pay their respects, and rode for a few
+minutes by the side of the carriage, so as to have an opportunity
+of seeing, admiring, and perhaps hearing, Mdlle. de Cardoville; she
+surpassed their expectations, by talking with her usual grace and
+spirit. Then surprise and enthusiasm knew no bounds. What had at first
+been blamed as an almost insane caprice, was now voted a charming
+originality, and it only depended on Mdlle. de Cardoville herself, to be
+declared from that day the queen of elegance and fashion. The young lady
+understood very well the impression she had made; she felt proud and
+happy, for she thought of Djalma; when she compared him to all these
+men of fashion, her happiness was the more increased. And, verily, these
+young men, most of whom had never quitted Paris, or had ventured at most
+as far as Naples or Baden, looked insignificant enough by the side of
+Djalma, who, at his age, had so many times commanded and combated in
+bloody wars, and whose reputation far courage and generosity, mentioned
+by travellers with admiration, had already reached from India to Paris.
+And then, how could these charming exquisites, with their small hats,
+their scanty frock-coats, and their huge cravats, compare with the
+Indian prince, whose graceful and manly beauty was still heightened by
+the splendor of a costume, at once so rich and so picturesque?
+
+On this happy day, all was joy and love for Adrienne. The sun, setting
+in a splendidly serene sky, flooded the promenade with its golden light.
+The air was warm. Carriages and horsemen passed and repassed in rapid
+succession; a light breeze played with the scarfs of the women, and
+the plumes in their bonnets; all around was noise, movement, sunshine.
+Adrienne, leaning back in her carriage, amused herself with watching
+this busy scene, sparkling with Parisian luxury; but, in the vortex
+of this brilliant chaos, she saw in thought the mild, melancholy
+countenance of Djalma--when suddenly something fell into her lap, and
+she started. It was a bunch of half-faded violets. At the same instant
+she heard a child's voice following the carriage, and saying: "For the
+love of heaven, my good lady, one little sou!" Adrienne turned her head,
+and saw a poor little girl, pale and wan, with mild, sorrowful features,
+scarcely covered with rags, holding out her hand, and raising her eyes
+in supplication. Though the striking contrast of extreme misery, side
+by side with extreme luxury, is so common, that it no longer excites
+attention, Adrienne was deeply affected by it. She thought of Mother
+Bunch, now, perhaps, the victim of frightful destitution.
+
+"Ah! at least," thought the young lady, "let not this day be one of
+happiness for me alone!"
+
+She leaned from the carriage-window, and said to the poor child: "Have
+you a mother, my dear?"
+
+"No, my lady, I have neither father nor mother."
+
+"Who takes care of you?"
+
+"No one, my lady. They give me nosegays to sell, and I must bring home
+money--or they beat me."
+
+"Poor little thing!"
+
+"A sou, my good lady--a sou, for the love of heaven!" said the child,
+continuing to follow the carriage, which was then moving slowly.
+
+"My dear count," said Adrienne, smiling, and addressing M. de Montbron,
+"you are, unfortunately, no novice at an elopement. Please to stretch
+forth your arms, take up that child with both hands, and lift her into
+the carriage. We can hide her between Lady de Morinval and myself; and
+we can drive away before any one perceives this audacious abduction."
+
+"What!" said the count, in surprise. "You wish--"
+
+"Yes; I beg you to do it."
+
+"What a folly!"
+
+"Yesterday, you might, perhaps, have treated this caprice as a folly;
+but to-day," said Adrienne, laying great stress upon the word, and
+glancing at M. de Montbron with a significant air, "to-day, you should
+understand that it is almost a duty."
+
+"Yes, I understand you, good and noble heart!" said the count,
+with emotion; while Lady de Morinval, who knew nothing of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's love for Djalma, looked with as much surprise as curiosity
+at the count and the young lady.
+
+M. de Montbron, leaning from the carriage, stretched out his arms
+towards the child, and said to her: "Give me your hands, little girl."
+
+Though much astonished, the child obeyed mechanically, and held out both
+her little arms; then the count took her by the wrists, and lifted her
+lightly from the ground, which he did the more easily, as the carnage
+was very low, and its progress by no means rapid. More stupefied than
+frightened, the child said not a word. Adrienne and Lady de Morinval
+made room for her to crouch down between them, and the little girl was
+soon hidden beneath the shawls of the two young women. All this was
+executed so quickly, that it was hardly perceived by a few persons
+passing in the side-avenues.
+
+"Now, my dear count," said Adrienne, radiant with pleasure, "let us make
+off at once with our prey."
+
+M. de Montbron half rose, and called to the postilions. "Home!" and the
+four horses started at once into a rapid and regular trot.
+
+"This day of happiness now seems consecrated, and my luxury is excused,"
+thought Adrienne; "till I can again meet with that poor Mother Bunch,
+and from this day I will make every exertion to find her out, her place
+will at least not be quite empty."
+
+There are often strange coincidences in life. At the moment when this
+thought of the hunchback crossed the mind of Adrienne, a crowd had
+collected in one of the side-avenues, and other persons soon ran to join
+the group.
+
+"Look, uncle!" said Lady de Morinval; "how many people are assembled
+yonder. What can it be? Shall we stop, and send to inquire?"
+
+"I am sorry, my dear, but your curiosity cannot be satisfied," said
+the count, drawing out his watch; "it will soon be six o'clock, and the
+exhibition of the wild beasts begin at eight. We shall only just have
+time to go home and dine. Is not that your opinion, my dear child?" said
+he to Adrienne.
+
+"And yours, Julia?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville to the marchioness.
+
+"Oh, certainly!" answered her friend.
+
+"I am the less inclined to delay," resumed the count, "as when I have
+taken you to the Porte-Saint-Martin, I shall be obliged to go for half
+an-hour to my club, to ballot for Lord Campbell, whom I propose."
+
+"Then, Adrienne and I will be left alone at the play, uncle?"
+
+"Your husband will go with you, I suppose."
+
+"True, dear uncle; but do not quite leave us, because of that."
+
+"Be sure I shall not: for I am curious as you are to see these terrible
+animals, and the famous Morok, the incomparable lion-tamer."
+
+A few minutes after, Mdlle. de Cardoville's carriage had left the Champs
+Elysees, carrying with it the little girl, and directing its course
+towards the Rue d'Anjou. As the brilliant equipage disappeared from
+the scene, the crowd, of which we before have spoken, greatly increased
+about one of the large trees in the Champs-Elysees, and expressions of
+pity were heard here and there amongst the groups. A lounger approached
+a young man on the skirts of the crowd, and said to him: "What is the
+matter, sir?"
+
+"I hear it is a poor young girl, a hunchback, that has fallen from
+exhaustion."
+
+"A hunchback! is that all? There will always be enough hunchbacks," said
+the lounger, brutally, with a coarse laugh.
+
+"Hunchback or not, if she dies of hunger," answered the young man,
+scarcely able to restrain his indignation, "it will be no less sad--and
+there is really nothing to laugh at, sir."
+
+"Die of hunger! pooh!" said the lounger, shrugging his shoulders. "It
+is only lazy scoundrels, that will not work, who die of hunger. And it
+serves them right."
+
+"I wager, sir, there is one death you will never die of," cried the
+young man, incensed at the cruel insolence of the lounger.
+
+"What do you mean?" answered the other, haughtily.
+
+"I mean, sir, that your heart is not likely to kill you."
+
+"Sir!" cried the lounger in an angry tone.
+
+"Well! what, sir?" replied the young man, looking full in his face.
+
+"Nothing," said the lounger, turning abruptly on his heel, and grumbling
+as he sauntered towards an orange-colored cabriolet, on which was
+emblazoned an enormous coat-of-arms, surmounted by a baron's crest.
+A servant in green livery, ridiculously laced with gold, was standing
+beside the horse, and did not perceive his master.
+
+"Are you catching flies, fool?" said the latter, pushing him with his
+cane. The servant turned round in confusion. "Sir," said he.
+
+"Will you never learn to call me Monsieur le Baron, rascal?" cried his
+master, in a rage--"Open the door directly!"
+
+The lounger was Baron Tripeaud, the manufacturing baron the
+stock-jobber. The poor hunchback was Mother Bunch, who had, indeed
+fallen with hunger and fatigue, whilst on her way to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's. The unfortunate creature had found courage to brave the
+shame of the ridicule she so much feared, by returning to that house
+from which she was a voluntary exile; but this time, it was not for
+herself, but for her sister Cephyse--the Bacchanal Queen, who had
+returned to Paris the previous day, and whom Mother Bunch now sought,
+through the means of Adrienne, to rescue from a most dreadful fate.
+
+Two hours after these different scenes, an enormous crowd pressed round
+the doors of the Porte-Saint-Martin, to witness the exercises of Morok,
+who was about to perform a mock combat with the famous black panther of
+Java, named Death. Adrienne, accompanied by Lord and Lady de Morinval,
+now stepped from a carriage at the entrance of the theatre. They were to
+be joined in the course of the evening by M. de Montbron, whom they had
+dropped, in passing, at his club.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEHIND THE SCENES.
+
+The large theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin was crowded by an impatient
+multitude. All Paris had hurried with eager and burning curiosity to
+Morok's exhibition. It is quite unnecessary to say that the lion-tamer
+had completely abandoned his small taste in religious baubles, which he
+had so successfully carried on at the White Falcon Inn at Leipsic.
+There were, moreover, numerous tokens by which the surprising effects
+of Morok's sudden conversion had been blazoned in the most extraordinary
+pictures: the antiquated baubles in which he had formerly dealt would
+have found no sale in Paris. Morok had nearly finished dressing himself,
+in one of the actor's rooms, which had been lent to him. Over a coat of
+mail, with cuishes and brassarts, he wore an ample pair of red trousers,
+fastened round his ankles by broad rings of gilt brass. His long caftan
+of black cloth, embroidered with scarlet and gold, was bound round his
+waist and wrist by other large rings of gilt metal. This sombre costume
+imparted to him an aspect still more ferocious. His thick and red-haired
+beard fell in large quantities down to his chest, and a long piece
+of white muslin was folded round his red head. A devout missionary in
+Germany and an actor in Paris, Morok knew as well as his employers, the
+Jesuits, how to accommodate himself to circumstances.
+
+Seated in one corner of the room, and contemplating with a sort of
+stupid admiration, was Jacques Rennepont, better known as "Sleepinbuff"
+(from the likelihood that he would end his days in rags, or his present
+antipathy to great care in dress). Since the day Hardy's factory had
+been destroyed by fire, Jacques had not quitted Morok, passing
+the nights in excesses, which had no baneful effects on the iron
+constitution of the lion-tamer. On the other's features, on the
+contrary, a great alteration was perceptible; his hollow cheeks, marble
+pallor, his eyes, by turns dull and heavy, or gleaming with lurid
+fire, betrayed the ravages of debauchery, his parched lips were almost
+constantly curled by a bitter and sardonic smile. His spirit, once
+gay and sanguine, still struggled against the besotting influence of
+habitual intoxication. Unfitted for labor, no longer able to forego
+gross pleasures, Jacques sought to drown in wine a few virtuous impulses
+which he still possessed, and had sunk so low as to accept without shame
+the large dole of sensual gratification proffered him by Morok, who paid
+all the expenses of their orgies, but never gave him money, in order
+that he might be completely dependent on him. After gazing at Morok for
+some time in amazement, Jacques said to him, in a familiar tone: "Well,
+yours is a famous trade; you may boast that, at this moment, there are
+not two men like you in the whole world That's flattering. It's a pity
+you don't stick to this fine trade."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, how is the conspiracy going on, in whose honor you make me keep it
+up all day and all night?"
+
+"It is working, but the time is not yet come; that is why I wish to have
+you always at hand, till the great day. Do you complain?"
+
+"Hang it, no!" said Jacques. "What could I do? Burnt up with brandy as
+I am, if I wanted to work, I've no longer the strength to do so. I have
+not, like you, a head of marble, and a body of iron; but as for fuddling
+myself with gunpowder, instead of anything else, that'll do for me; I'm
+only fit for that work now--and then, it will drive away thought."
+
+"Oh what kind?"
+
+"You know that when I do think, I think only of one thing," said
+Jacques, gloomily.
+
+"The Bacchanal queen?--still?" said Morok, in a disdainful tone.
+
+"Still! rather: when I shall think of her no longer, I shall be dead--or
+stupefied. Fiend!"
+
+"You were never better or more intelligent, you fool!" replied Morok,
+fastening his turban. The conversation was here interrupted. Morok's
+aider entered hastily.
+
+The gigantic form of this Hercules had increased in width. He was
+habited like Alcides; his enormous limbs, furrowed with veins as thick
+as whipcord, were covered with a close-fitting flesh-colored garment, to
+which a pair of red drawers formed a strong contrast.
+
+"Why do you rush in like a storm, Goliath?" said Morok.
+
+"There's a pretty storm in the house; they are beginning to get
+impatient, and are calling out like madmen. But if that were all!"
+
+"Well, what else?"
+
+"Death will not be able to play this evening."
+
+Morok turned quickly around. He seemed uneasy. "Why so?" he exclaimed.
+
+"I have just seen her! she's crouching at the bottom of her cage; her
+ears lie so close to her head, she looks as if they had been cut off.
+You know what that means."
+
+"Is that all?" said Morok, turning to the glass to complete his head
+dress.
+
+"It's quite enough; she's in one of her tearing fits. Since that night
+in Germany, when she ripped up that old hack of a white horse, I've not
+seen her look so savage! her eyes shine like burning candles."
+
+"Then she must have her fine collar on," said Morok, quietly.
+
+"Her fine collar?"
+
+"Yes; her spring-collar."
+
+"And I must be lady's-maid," said the giant. "A nice toilet to attend
+to!"
+
+"Hold your tongue!"
+
+"That's not all--" continued Goliath, hesitating.
+
+"What more?"
+
+"I might as well tell you at once."
+
+"Will you speak?"
+
+"Well! he is here."
+
+"Who, you stupid brute?"
+
+"The Englishman!"
+
+Morok started; his arms fell powerless by his side. Jacques was struck
+with the lion-tamer's paleness and troubled countenance.
+
+"The Englishman!--you have seen him?" cried Morok, addressing Goliath.
+"You are quite sure?"
+
+"Quite sure. I was looking through the peep-hole in the curtain; I saw
+him in one of the stage-boxes--he wishes to see things close; he's easy
+to recognize, with his pointed forehead, big nose, and goggle eyes."
+
+Morok shuddered again; usually fierce and unmoved, he appeared to be
+more and more agitated, and so alarmed, that Jacques said to him: "Who
+is this Englishman?"
+
+"He has followed me from Strasburg, where he fell in with me," said
+Morok, with visible dejection. "He travelled with his own horses, by
+short stages, as I did; stopping where I stopped, so as never to miss
+one of my exhibitions. But two days before I arrived at Paris, he left
+me--I thought I was rid of him," said Morok, with a sigh.
+
+"Rid of him!--how you talk!" replied Jacques, surprised; "such a good
+customer, such an admirer!"
+
+"Aye!" said Morok, becoming more and more agitated; "this wretch has
+wagered an enormous sum, that I will be devoured in his presence,
+during one of my performances: he hopes to win his wager--that is why he
+follows me about."
+
+Sleepinbuff found the John Bull's idea so amusingly eccentric, that, for
+the first time since a very long period, he burst into a peal of hearty
+laughter. Morok, pale with rage, rushed towards him with so menacing an
+air, that Goliath was obliged to interpose.
+
+"Come, come," said Jacques, "don't be angry; if it is serious, I will
+not laugh any more."
+
+Morok was appeased, and said to Sleepinbuff in a hoarse voice: "Do you
+think me a coward?"
+
+"No, by heaven!"
+
+"Well! And yet this Englishman, with his grotesque face, frightens me
+more than any tiger or my panther!"
+
+"You say so, and I believe it," replied Jacques; "but I cannot
+understand why the presence of this man should alarm you."
+
+"But consider, you dull knave!" cried Morok, "that, obliged to watch
+incessantly the least movement of the ferocious beast, whom I keep in
+subjection by my action and my looks, there is something terrible in
+knowing that two eyes are there--always there--fixed--waiting till
+the least absence of mind shall expose me to be torn in pieces by the
+animals."
+
+"Now, I understand," said Jacques, shuddering in his turn. "It is
+terrible."
+
+"Yes; for once there, though I may not see this cursed Englishman, I
+fancy I have his two round eyes, fixed and wide open, always before me.
+My tiger Cain once nearly mutilated my arm, when my attention was drawn
+away by this Englishman, whom the devil take! Blood and thunder!" cried
+Morok: "this man will be fatal to me." And Morok paced the room in great
+agitation.
+
+"Besides, Death lays her ears close to her skull," said Goliath,
+brutally. "If you persist--mind, I tell you--the Englishman will win his
+wager this evening."
+
+"Go away, you brute!--don't vex my head with your confounded
+predictions," cried Morok: "go and prepare Death's collar."
+
+"Well, every one to his taste; you wish the panther to taste you," said
+the giant, stalking heavily away, after this joke.
+
+"But if you feel these fears," said Jacques, "why do you not say that
+the panther is ill?"
+
+Morok shrugged his shoulders, and replied with a sort of feverish
+ferocity, "Have you ever heard of the fierce pleasure of the gamester,
+who stakes his honor, his life, upon a card? Well! I too--in these daily
+exhibitions where my life is at stake--find a wild, fierce pleasure in
+braving death, before a crowded assembly, shuddering and terrified at my
+audacity. Yes, even in the fear with which this Englishman inspires me,
+I find, in spite of myself, a terrible excitement, which I abhor, and
+which yet subjugates me."
+
+At this moment, the stage-manager entered the room, and interrupted the
+beast-tamer. "May we give the signal, M. Morok?" said the stage-manager.
+"The overture will not last above ten minutes."
+
+"I am ready," said Morok.
+
+"The police-inspector has just now given orders, that the double chain
+of the panther, and the iron ring riveted to the floor of the stage, at
+the end of the cavern in the foreground, shall be again examined; and
+everything has been reported quite secure."
+
+"Yes--secure--except for me," murmured the beast-tamer.
+
+"So, M. Morok, the signal may be given?"
+
+"The signal may--be given," replied Morok. And the manager went out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. UP WITH THE CURTAIN.
+
+The usual bell sounded with solemnity behind the scenes the overture
+began, and, to say the truth, but little attention was paid to it. The
+interior of the theatre offered a very animated view. With the exception
+of two stage-boxes even with the dress circle, one to the left, the
+other to the right of the audience, every seat was occupied. A great
+number of very fashionable ladies, attracted, as is always the case, by
+the strange wildness of the spectacle, filled the boxes. The stalls were
+crowded by most of the young men who; in the morning, had walked their
+horses on the Champs-Elysees. The observations which passed from one
+stall to another, will give some idea of their conversation.
+
+"Do you know, my dear boy, there would not be so crowded or fashionable
+an audience to witness Racine's Athalia?"
+
+"Undoubtedly. What is the beggarly howling of an actor, compared to the
+roaring of the lion?"
+
+"I cannot understand how the authorities permit this Morok to fasten his
+panther with a chain to an iron ring in the corner of the stage. If the
+chain were to break?"
+
+"Talking of broken chains--there's little Mme. de Blinville, who is no
+tigress. Do you see her in the second tier, opposite?"
+
+"It becomes her very well to have broken, as you say, the marriage
+chain; she looks very well this season."
+
+"Oh! there is the beautiful Duchess de Saint-Prix; all the world is here
+to-night--I don't speak of ourselves."
+
+"It is a regular opera night--what a festive scene!"
+
+"Well, after all, people do well to amuse themselves, perhaps it will
+not be for long."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Suppose the cholera were to come to Paris?"
+
+"Oh! nonsense!"
+
+"Do you believe in the cholera?"
+
+"To be sure I do! He's coming from the North, with his walking-stick
+under his arm."
+
+"The devil take him on the road! don't let us see his green visage
+here."
+
+"They say he's at London."
+
+"A pleasant journey to him."
+
+"Come, let us talk of something else; it may be a weakness, if you
+please, but I call this a dull subject."
+
+"I believe you."
+
+"Oh! gentlemen--I am not mistaken--no--it is she!"
+
+"Who, then?"
+
+"Mdlle. de Cardoville! She is coming into the stage-box with Morinval
+and his wife. It is a complete resuscitation: this morning on the
+Champs-Elysees; in the evening here."
+
+"Faith, you are right! It is Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"Good heaven! how lovely she is!"
+
+"Lend me your eyeglass."
+
+"Well, what do you think of her?"
+
+"Exquisite--dazzling."
+
+"And in addition to her beauty, an inexhaustible flow of wit, three
+hundred thousand francs a year, high birth, eighteen years of age,
+and--free as air."
+
+"Yes, that is to say, that, provided it pleased her, I might be to
+morrow--or even to-day--the happiest of men."
+
+"It is enough to turn one's brain."
+
+"I am told that her mansion, Rue d'Anjou, is like an enchanted palace; a
+great deal is said about a bath-room and bedroom, worthy of the Arabian
+Nights."
+
+"And free as air--I come back to that."
+
+"Ah! if I were in her place!"
+
+"My levity would be quite shocking."
+
+"Oh! gentlemen, what a happy man will he be who is loved first!"
+
+"You think, then, that she will have many lovers?"
+
+"Being as free as air--"
+
+"All the boxes are full, except the stage-box opposite to that in which
+Mdlle. de Cardoville is seated. Happy the occupiers of that box!"
+
+"Did you see the English ambassador's lady in the dress circle?"
+
+"And the Princess d'Alvimar--what an enormous bouquet!"
+
+"I should like to know the name--of that nosegay."
+
+"Oh!--it's Germigny."
+
+"How flattering for the lions and tigers, to attract so fashionable an
+audience."
+
+"Do you notice, gentlemen, how all the women are eye-glassing Mdlle. de
+Cardoville?"
+
+"She makes a sensation."
+
+"She is right to show herself; they gave her out as mad."
+
+"Oh! gentlemen, what a capital phiz!"
+
+"Where--where?"
+
+"There--in the omnibus-box beneath Mdlle. de Cardoville's."
+
+"It's a Nuremburg nutcracker."
+
+"An ourang-outang!"
+
+"Did you ever see such round, staring eyes?"
+
+"And the nose!"
+
+"And the forehead!"
+
+"It's a caricature."
+
+"Order, order! the curtain rises."
+
+And, in fact, the curtain rose. Some explanation is necessary for the
+clear understanding of what follows. In the lower stage-box, to the left
+of the audience, were several persons, who had been referred to by the
+young men in the stalls. The omnibus-box was occupied by the Englishman,
+the eccentric and portentous bettor, whose presence inspired Morok with
+so much dread.
+
+It would require Hoffman's rare and fantastic genius to describe
+worthily that countenance, at once grotesque and frightful, as it stood
+out from the dark background of the box. This Englishman was about fifty
+years old; his forehead was quite bald, and of a conical shape; beneath
+this forehead, surmounted by eyebrows like parenthesis marks, glittered
+large, green eyes, remarkably round and staring, and set very close to a
+hooked nose, extremely sharp and prominent; a chin like that on the old
+fashioned nutcrackers was half-hidden in a broad and ample white cravat,
+as stiffly-starched as the round-cornered shirt-collar, which nearly
+touched his ears. The face was exceedingly thin and bony, and yet the
+complexion was high-colored, approaching to purple, which made the
+bright green of the pupils, and the white of the other part of the
+eyes, still more conspicuous. The mouth, which was very wide, sometimes
+whistled inaudibly the tune of a Scotch jig (always the same tune),
+sometimes was slightly curled with a sardonic smite. The Englishman was
+dressed with extreme care; his blue coat, with brass buttons, displayed
+his spotless waistcoat, snowy, white as his ample cravat; his shirt was
+fastened with two magnificent ruby studs, and his patrician hands were
+carefully kid gloved.
+
+To any one who knew the eccentric and cruel desire which attracted this
+man to every representation, his grotesque face became almost terrific,
+instead of exciting ridicule; and it was easy to understand the dread
+experience by Morok at sight of those great, staring round eyes, which
+appeared to watch for the death of the lion-tamer (what a horrible
+death!) with unshaken confidence. Above the dark box of the Englishman,
+affording a graceful contrast, were seated the Morinvals and Mdlle.
+de Cardoville. The latter was placed nearest the stage. Her head was
+uncovered, and she wore a dress of sky-blue China crepe, ornamented at
+the bosom with a brooch of the finest Oriental pearls--nothing more; yet
+Adrienne, thus attired, was charming. She held in her hand an enormous
+bouquet, composed of the rarest flowers of India: the stephanotis and
+the gardenia mingled the dead white of their blossoms with the purple
+hibiscus and Java amaryllis.
+
+Madame de Morinval, seated on the opposite side of the box, was dressed
+with equal taste and simplicity; Morinval, a fair and very handsome
+young man, of elegant appearance, was behind the two ladies. M. de
+Montbron was expected to arrive every moment. The reader will please
+to recollect that the stage-box to the right of the audience, opposite
+Adrienne's, had remained till then quite empty. The stage represented
+one of the gigantic forests of India. In the background, tall exotic
+trees rose in spiral or spreading forms, among rugged masses of
+perpendicular rocks, with here and there glimpses of a tropical sky. The
+side-scenes formed tufts of trees, interspersed with rocks; and at the
+side which was immediately beneath Adrienne's box appeared the irregular
+opening of a deep and gloomy cavern, round which were heaped huge blocks
+of granite, as if thrown together by some convulsion of nature. This
+scenery, full of a wild and savage grandeur, was wonderfully "built up,"
+so as to make the illusion as complete as possible; the footlights
+were lowered, and being covered with a purple shade, threw over this
+landscape a subdued reddish light, which increased the gloomy and
+startling effect of the whole. Adrienne, leaning forward from the box,
+with cheeks slightly flushed, sparkling eyes, and throbbing heart,
+sought to trace in this scene the solitary forest described by the
+traveller who had eulogized Djalma's generosity and courage, when he
+threw himself upon a ferocious tigress to save the life of a poor black
+slave. Chance coincided wonderfully indeed with her recollections.
+Absorbed in the contemplation of the scenery and the thoughts it
+awakened in her heart, she paid no attention to what was passing in the
+house. And yet something calculated to excite curiosity was taking place
+in the opposite stage-box.
+
+The door of this box opened. A man about forty years of age, of a yellow
+complexion, entered; he was clothed after the East Indian fashion, in a
+long robe of orange silk, bound round the waist with a green sash, and
+he wore a small white turban. He placed two chairs at the front of the
+box; and, having glanced round the house for a moment, he started, his
+black eyes sparkled, and he went out quickly. That man was Faringhea.
+His apparition caused surprise and curiosity in the theatre; the
+majority of the spectators not having, like Adrienne, a thousand reasons
+for being absorbed in the contemplation of a picturesque set scene.
+The public attention was still more excited when they saw the box which
+Faringhea had just left, entered by a youth of rare beauty, also dressed
+Oriental fashion, in a long robe of white Cashmere with flowing sleeves,
+with a scarlet turban striped with gold on his head, and a sash to
+correspond, in which was stuck a long dagger, glittering with precious
+stones. This young man was Prince Djalma. For an instant he remained
+standing at the door, and cast a look of indifference upon the immense
+theatre, crowded with people; then, stepping forward with a majestic
+and tranquil air, the prince seated himself negligently on one of the
+chairs, and, turning his head in a few moments towards the entrance,
+appeared surprised at not seeing some person whom he doubtless expected.
+This person appeared at length; the boxkeeper had been assisting her to
+take off her cloak. She was a charming, fair-haired girl, attired
+with more show than taste, in a dress of white silk, with broad
+cherry-colored stripes, made ultra fashionably low, and with short
+sleeves; a large bow of cherry-colored ribbon was placed on each side
+of her light hair, and set off the prettiest, sprightliest, most wilful
+little face in the world.
+
+It was Rose-Pompon. Her pretty arms were partly covered by long white
+gloves, and ridiculously loaded with bracelets: in her hand she carried
+an enormous bouquet of roses.
+
+Far from imitating the calm demeanor of Djalma, Rose-Pompon skipped into
+the box, moved the chairs about noisily, and fidgeted on her seat for
+some time, to display her fine dress; then, without being in the least
+intimidated by the presence of the brilliant assembly, she, with a
+little coquettish air, held her bouquet towards Djalma, that he might
+smell it, and appeared finally to establish herself on her seat.
+Faringhea came in, shut the door of the box, and seated himself behind
+the prince. Adrienne, still completely absorbed in the contemplation of
+the Indian forest, and in her own sweet thoughts, had not observed the
+newcomers. As she was turning her head completely towards the stage, and
+Djalma could not, for the moment, see even her profile, he, on his side,
+had not recognized Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. DEATH.
+
+The pantomime opening, by which was introduced the combat of Morok with
+the black panther, was so unmeaning, that the majority of the audience
+paid no attention to it, reserving all their interest for the scene in
+which the lion-tamer was to make his appearance.
+
+This indifference of the public explains the curiosity excited in
+the theatre by the arrival of Faringhea and Djalma--a curiosity which
+expressed itself (as at this day, when uncommon foreigners appear in
+public) by a slight murmur and general movement amongst the crowd. The
+sprightly, pretty face of Rose-Pompon, always charming, in spite of her
+singularly staring dress, in style so ridiculous for such a theatre,
+and her light and familiar manner towards the handsome Indian who
+accompanied her, increased and animated the general surprise; for, at
+this moment, Rose-Pompon, yielding without reserve to a movement of
+teasing coquetry, had held up, as we have already stated, her large
+bunch of roses to Djalma. But the prince, at sight of the landscape
+which reminded him of his country, instead of appearing sensible to this
+pretty, provocation, remained for some minutes as in a dream, with his
+eyes fixed upon the stage. Then Rose-Pompon began to beat time on the
+front of the box with her bouquet, whilst the somewhat too visible
+movement of her pretty shoulders showed that this devoted dancer was
+thinking of fast-life dances, as the orchestra struck up a more lively
+strain.
+
+Placed directly opposite the box in which Faringhea, Djalma, and Rose
+Pompon had just taken their seats, Lady Morinval soon perceived
+the arrival of these two personages, and particularly the eccentric
+coquetries of Rose-Pompon. Immediately, the young marchioness, leaning
+over towards Mdlle. de Cardoville, who was still absorbed in memories
+ineffable, said to her, laughing: "My dear, the most amusing part of the
+performance is not upon the stage. Look just opposite."
+
+"Just opposite?" repeated Adrienne, mechanically: and, turning towards
+Lady Morinval with an air of surprise, she glanced in the direction
+pointed out.
+
+She looked--what did she see?--Djalma seated by the side of a young
+woman, who was familiarly offering to his sense of smell the perfume
+of her bouquet. Amazed, struck almost literally to the heart, as by an
+electric shock, swift, sharp, and painful, Adrienne became deadly pale.
+From instinct, she shut her eyes for a second, in order not to see--as
+men try to ward off the dagger, which, having once dealt the blow,
+threatens to strike again. Then suddenly, to this feeling of grief
+succeeded a reflection, terrible both to her love and to her wounded
+pride.
+
+"Djalma is present with this woman, though he must have received my
+letter," she said to herself,--"wherein he was informed of the happiness
+that awaited him."
+
+At the idea of so cruel an insult, a blush of shame and indignation
+displaced Adrienne's paleness, who overwhelmed by this sad reality, said
+to herself: "Rodin did not deceive me."
+
+We abandon all idea of picturing the lightning-like rapidity of certain
+emotions which in a moment may torture--may kill you in the space of a
+minute. Thus Adrienne was precipitated from the most radiant happiness
+to the lowest depths of an abyss of the most heart-rending grief, in
+less than a second; for a second had hardly elapsed before she replied
+to Lady Morinval: "What is there, then, so curious, opposite to us, my
+dear Julia?"
+
+This evasive question gave Adrienne time to recover her self-possession.
+Fortunately, thanks to the thick folds of hair which almost entirely
+concealed her cheeks, the rapid and sudden changes from pallor to blush
+escaped the notice of Lady Morinval, who gayly replied: "What, my dear,
+do you not perceive those East Indians, who have just entered the box
+immediately opposite to ours? There, just before us!"
+
+"Yes, I see them; but what then?" replied Adrienne, in a firm tone.
+
+"And don't you observe anything remarkable?" said the marchioness.
+
+"Don't be too hard, ladies," laughingly interposed the marquis; "we
+ought to allow the poor foreigners some little indulgence. They are
+ignorant of our manners and customs; were it not for that, they would
+never appear in the face of all Paris in such dubious company."
+
+"Indeed," said Adrienne, with a bitter smile, "their simplicity is
+touching; we must pity them."
+
+"And, unfortunately, the girl is charming, spite of her low dress and
+bare arms," said the marchioness; "she cannot be more than sixteen or
+seventeen at most. Look at her, my dear Adrienne; what a pity!"
+
+"It is one of your charitable days, my dear Julia," answered Adrienne;
+"we are to pity the Indians, to pity this creature, and--pray, whom else
+are we to pity?"
+
+"We will not pity that handsome Indian, in his red-and-gold turban,"
+said the marquis, laughing, "for, if this goes on, the girl with the
+cherry colored ribbons will be giving him a kiss. See how she leans
+towards her sultan."
+
+"They are very amusing," said the marchioness, sharing the hilarity
+of her husband, and looking at Rose-Pompom through her glass; then she
+resumed, in about a minute, addressing herself to Adrienne: "I am quite
+certain of one thing. Notwithstanding her giddy airs, that girl is very
+fond of her Indian. I just saw a look that expresses a great deal."
+
+"Why so much penetration, my dear Julia?" said Adrienne, mildly; "what
+interest have we to read the heart of that girl?"
+
+"Why, if she loves her sultan, she is quite in the right," said the
+marquis, looking through his opera-glass in turn; "for, in my whole
+life, I never saw a more handsome fellow than that Indian. I can only
+catch his side-face, but the profile is pure and fine as an antique
+cameo. Do you not think so?" added the marquis, leaning towards
+Adrienne. "Of course, it is only as a matter of art, that I permit
+myself to ask you the question."
+
+"As a work of art," answered Adrienne, "it is certainly very fine."
+
+"But see!" said the marchioness; "how impertinent the little creature
+is!--She is actually staring at us."
+
+"Well!" said the marquis; "and she is actually laying her hand quite
+unceremoniously on her sultan's shoulder, to make him share, no doubt,
+in her admiration of you ladies."
+
+In fact, Djalma, until now occupied with the contemplation of the
+scene which reminded him of his country, had remained insensible to the
+enticements of Rose-Pompon, and had not yet perceived Adrienne.
+
+"Well, now!" said Rose-Pompon, bustling herself about in front of the
+box, and continuing to stare at Mdlle. de Cardoville, for it was she,
+and not the marchioness, who now drew her attention; "that is something
+quite out of the common way--a pretty woman, with red hair; but such
+sweet red, it must be owned. Look, Prince Charming!"
+
+And so saying, she tapped Djalma lightly on the shoulder; he started at
+these words, turned round, and for the first time perceived Mdlle. de
+Cardoville.
+
+Though he had been almost prepared for this meeting, the prince was so
+violently affected by it, that he was about involuntarily to rise, in
+a state of the utmost confusion; but he felt the iron hand of Faringhea
+laid heavily on his shoulder, and heard him whisper in Hindostanee:
+"Courage! and by to-morrow she will be at your feet."
+
+As Djalma still struggled to rise, the half-caste added to restrain him:
+"Just now, she grew pale and red with jealousy. No weakness, or all is
+lost!"
+
+"So! there you are again, talking your dreadful gibberish," said Rose
+Pompon, turning round towards Faringhea. "First of all, it is not
+polite; and then the language is so odd, that one might suppose you were
+cracking nuts."
+
+"I spoke of you to my master," said the half-caste; "he is preparing a
+surprise for you."
+
+"A surprise? oh! that is different. Only make haste--do you hear, Prince
+Charming!" added she, looking tenderly at Djalma.
+
+"My heart is breaking," said Djalma, in a hollow voice to Faringhea,
+still using the language of India.
+
+"But to-morrow it will bound with joy and love," answered the
+half-caste. "It is only by disdain that you can conquer a proud woman.
+To-morrow, I tell you, she will be trembling, confused, supplicating, at
+your feet!"
+
+"To-morrow, she will hate me like death!" replied the prince,
+mournfully.
+
+"Yes, were she now to see you weak and cowardly. It is now too late to
+draw back; look full at her, take the nosegay from this girl, and raise
+it to your lips. Instantly, you will see yonder woman, proud as she is,
+grow pale and red, as just now. Then will you believe me?"
+
+Reduced by despair to make almost any attempt, and fascinated, in spite
+of himself, by the diabolical hints of Faringhea, Djalma looked for a
+second full at Mdlle. de Cardoville; then, with a trembling hand he took
+the bouquet from Rose-Pompon, and, again looking at Adrienne, pressed it
+to his lips.
+
+Upon this insolent bravado, Mdlle. de Cardoville could not restrain so
+sudden and visible a pang, that the prince was struck by it.
+
+"She is yours," said the half-caste, to him. "Did you see, my lord, how
+she trembled with jealousy?--Only have courage! and she is yours. She
+will soon prefer you to that handsome young man behind her--for it is he
+whom she has hitherto fancied herself in love with."
+
+As if the half-caste had guessed the movement of rage and hatred, which
+this revelation would excite in the heart of the prince, he hastily
+added: "Calmness and disdain! Is it not his turn now to hate you?"
+
+The prince restrained himself, and drew his hand across his forehead
+which glowed with anger.
+
+"There now! what are you telling him, that vexes him so?" said Rose
+Pompon to Faringhea, with pouting lip. Then, addressing Djalma, she
+continued: "Come, Prince Charming, as they say in the fairy-tale, give
+me back my flowers."
+
+As she took it again, she added: "You have kissed it, and I could almost
+eat it." Then, with a sigh, and a passionate glance at Djalma, she said
+softly to herself: "That monster Ninny Moulin did not deceive me. All
+this is quite proper; I have not even that to reproach myself with." And
+with her little white teeth, she bit at a rosy nail of her right hand,
+from which she had just drawn the glove.
+
+It is hardly necessary to say, that Adrienne's letter had not been
+delivered to the prince, and that he had not gone to pass the day in the
+country with Marshal Simon. During the three days in which Montbron had
+not seen Djalma, Faringhea had persuaded him, that, by affecting another
+passion, he would bring Mdlle. de Cardoville to terms. With regard
+to Djalma's presence at the theatre, Rodin had learned from her maid,
+Florine, that her mistress was to go in the evening to the Porte-Saint
+Martin. Before Djalma had recognized her, Adrienne, who felt her
+strength failing her, was on the point of quitting the theatre; the man,
+whom she had hitherto placed so high, whom she had regarded as a hero
+and a demi-god and whom she had imagined plunged in such dreadful
+despair, that, led by the most tender pity, she had written to him with
+simple frankness, that a sweet hope might calm his grief--replied to
+a generous mark of sincerity and love, by making himself a ridiculous
+spectacle with a creature unworthy of him. What incurable wounds for
+Adrienne's pride! It mattered little, whether Djalma knew or not, that
+she would be a spectator of the indignity. But when she saw herself
+recognized by the prince, when he carried the insult so far as to look
+full at her, and, at the same time, raise to his lips the creature's
+bouquet who accompanied him, Adrienne was seized with noble indignation,
+and felt sufficient courage to remain: instead of closing her eyes to
+evidence, she found a sort of barbarous pleasure in assisting at the
+agony and death of her pure and divine love. With head erect, proud and
+flashing eye, flushed cheek, and curling lip, she looked in her turn at
+the prince with disdainful steadiness. It was with a sardonic smile that
+she said to the marchioness, who, like many others of the spectators
+was occupied with what was passing in the stage-box: "This revolting
+exhibition of savage manners is at least in accordance with the rest of
+the performance."
+
+"Certainly," said the marchioness; "and my dear uncle will have lost,
+perhaps, the most amusing part."
+
+"Montbron?" said Adrienne, hastily, with hardly repressed bitterness;
+"yes, he will regret not having seen all. I am impatient for his
+arrival. Is it not to him that I am indebted for his charming evening?"
+
+Perhaps Madame de Morinval would have remarked the expression of bitter
+irony, that Adrienne could not altogether dissemble, if suddenly a
+hoarse and prolonged roar had net attracted her attention, as well
+as that of the rest of the audience, who had hitherto been quite
+indifferent to the scenes intended for an introduction to the appearance
+of Morok. Every eye was now turned instinctively towards the cavern
+situated to the left of the stage, just below Mdlle. de Cardoville's
+box; a thrill of curiosity ran through the house. A second roar, deeper
+and more sonorous, and apparently expressive of more irritation than
+the first, now rose from the cave, the mouth of which was half-hidden
+by artificial brambles, made so as to be easily put on one side. At this
+sound, the Englishman stood up in his little box, leaned half over the
+front, and began to rub his hands with great energy; then, remaining
+perfectly motionless, he fixed his large, green, glittering eyes on the
+mouth of the cavern.
+
+At these ferocious howlings, Djalma also had started, notwithstanding
+the frenzy of love, hate, and jealousy, to which he was a prey. The
+sight of this forest, and the roarings of the panther, filled him with
+deep emotion, for they recalled the remembrance of his country, and of
+those great hunts which, like war, have their own terrible excitement.
+Had he suddenly heard the horns and gongs of his father's army sounding
+to the charge, he could not have been transported with more savage
+ardor. And now deep growls, like distant thunder, almost drowned the
+roar of the panther. The lion and tiger, Judas and Cain answered her
+from their dens at the back of the stage. On this frightful concert,
+with which his ears had been familiar in the midst of the solitudes of
+India, when he lay encamped, for the purposes of the chase or of war,
+Djalma's blood boiled in his veins. His eyes sparkled with a wild ardor.
+Leaning a little forward, with both hands pressed on the front of the
+box, his whole body trembled with a convulsive shudder. The audience,
+the theatre, Adrienne herself no longer existed for him; he was in a
+forest of his own lands, tracking the tiger.
+
+Then there mingled with his beauty so intrepid and ferocious an
+expression, that Rose-Pompon looked at him with a sort of terror and
+passionate admiration. For the first time in her life, perhaps, her
+pretty blue eyes, generally so gay and mischievous; expressed a serious
+emotion. She could not explain what she felt; but her heart seemed
+frightened, and beat violently, as though some calamity were at hand.
+
+Yielding to a movement of involuntary fear, she seized Djalma by the
+arm, and said to him: "Do not stare so into that cavern; you frighten
+me."
+
+Djalma did not hear what she said.
+
+"Here he is! here he is!" murmured the crowd, almost with one voice, as
+Morok appeared at the back of the stage.
+
+Dressed as we have described, Morok now carried in addition a bow and
+a long quiver full of arrows. He slowly descended the line of painted
+rocks, which came sloping down towards the centre of the stage. From
+time to time, he stopped as if to listen, and appeared to advance with
+caution. Looking from one side to the other, his eyes involuntarily
+encountered the large, green eyes of the Englishman, whose box was close
+to the cavern. Instantly the lion-tamer's countenance was contracted in
+so frightful a manner, that Lady Morinval, who was examining him closely
+with the aid of an excellent glass, said hastily to Adrienne: "My dear,
+the man is afraid. Some misfortune will happen."
+
+"How can accidents happen," said Adrienne, with a sardonic smile,
+"in the midst of this brilliant crowd, so well dressed and full of
+animation! Misfortunes here, this evening! why, dear Julia, you do not
+think it. It is in darkness and solitude that misfortunes come--never in
+the midst of a joyous crowd, and in all this blaze of light."
+
+"Good gracious, Adrienne! take care!" cried the marchioness, unable to
+repress an exclamation of alarm, and seizing her arm, as if to draw her
+closer; "do you not see it?" And with a trembling hand, she pointed to
+the cavern's mouth. Adrienne hastily bent forward, and looked in that
+direction. "Take care, do not lean so forward!" exclaimed Lady Morinval.
+
+"Your terrors are nonsensical, my dear," said the marquis to his wife.
+"The panther is securely chained; and even were it to break its chains
+(which is impossible), we are here beyond its reach."
+
+A long murmur of trembling curiosity here ran through the house, and
+every eye was intently fixed on the cavern. From amongst the artificial
+brambles, which she abruptly pushed aside with her broad chest, the
+black panther suddenly appeared. Twice she stretched forth her flat
+head, illumined by yellow, flaming eyes; then, half-opening her
+blood-red jaws, she uttered another roar, and exhibited two rows of
+formidable fangs. A double iron chain, and a collar also of iron,
+painted black, blended with the ebon shades of her hide, and with the
+darkness of the cavern. The illusion was complete, and the terrible
+animal seemed to be at liberty in her den.
+
+"Ladies," said the marquis, suddenly, "look at those Indians. Their
+emotion makes them superb!"
+
+In fact, the sight of the panther had raised the wild ardor of Djalma
+to its utmost pitch. His eyes sparkled in their pearly orbits like two
+black diamonds; his upper lip was curled convulsively with an expression
+of animal ferocity, as if he were in a violent paroxysm of rage.
+
+Faringhea, now leaning on the front of the box, was also greatly
+excited, by reason of a strange coincidence. "That black panther of so
+rare a breed," thought he, "which I see here at Paris, upon the stage,
+must be the very one that the Malay"--the Thug who had tatooed Djalma
+at Java during his sleep--"took quite young from his den, and sold to a
+European captain. Bowanee's power is everywhere!" added the Thug, in his
+sanguinary superstition.
+
+"Do you not think," resumed the marquis, addressing Adrienne, "that
+those Indians are really splendid in their present attitude?"
+
+"Perhaps they may have seen such a hunt in their own country," said
+Adrienne, as if she would recall and brave the most cruel remembrances.
+
+"Adrienne," said the marchioness, suddenly, in an agitated voice, "the
+lion-tamer has now come nearer--is not his countenance fearful to look
+at?--I tell you he is afraid."
+
+"In truth," observed the marquis, this time very seriously, "he is
+dreadfully pale, and seems to grow worse every minute, the nearer he
+approaches this side. It is said that, were he to lose his presence of
+mind for a single moment, he would run the greatest danger."
+
+"O! it would be horrible!" cried the marchioness, addressing Adrienne,
+"if he were wounded--there--under our eyes!"
+
+"Every wound does not kill," replied her friend, with an accent of such
+cold indifference, that the marchioness looked at her with surprise, and
+said to her: "My dear girl, what you say there is cruel!"
+
+"It is the air of the place that acts on me," answered Adrienne, with an
+icy smile.
+
+"Look! look! the lion-tamer is about to shoot his arrow at the panther,"
+said the marquis, suddenly. "No doubt, he will next perform the hand to
+hand grapple."
+
+Morok was at this moment in front of the stage, but he had yet to
+traverse its entire breadth to reach the cavern's mouth. He stopped an
+instant, adjusted an arrow to the string, knelt down behind a mass of
+rock, took deliberate aim--and then the arrow hissed across the stage,
+and was lost in the depths of the cavern, into which the panther
+had retired, after showing for a moment her threatening head to the
+audience. Hardly had the arrow disappeared, than Death, purposely
+irritated by Goliath (who was invisible) sent forth a howl of rage, as
+if she had been really wounded. Morok's actions became so expressive,
+he evinced so naturally his joy at having hit the wild beast, that
+a tempest of applause burst from every quarter of the house. Then,
+throwing away his bow, he drew a dagger from his girdle, took it between
+his teeth, and began to crawl forward on hands and knees, as though he
+meant to surprise the wounded panther in his den. To render the illusion
+perfect, Death, again excited by Goliath, who struck him with an iron
+bar, sent forth frightful howlings from the depths of the cavern.
+
+The gloomy aspect of the forest, only half-lighted with a reddish glare,
+was so effective--the howlings of the panther were so furious--the
+gestures, attitude, and countenance of Morok were so expressive of
+terror, that the audience, attentive and trembling, now maintained a
+profound silence. Every one held his breath, and a kind of shudder came
+over the spectators, as though they expected some horrible event. What
+gave such a fearful air of truth to the pantomime of Morok, was that,
+as he approached the cavern step by step, he approached also the
+Englishman's box. In spite of himself, the lion-tamer, fascinated by
+terror, could not take his eyes from the large green eyes of this man,
+and it seemed as if every one of the abrupt movements which he made in
+crawling along, was produced by a species of magnetic attraction, caused
+by the fixed gaze of the fatal wagerer. Therefore, the nearer Morok
+approached, the more ghastly and livid he became. At sight of this
+pantomime, which was no longer acting, but the real expression of
+intense fear, the deep and trembling silence which had reigned in the
+theatre was once more interrupted by acclamations, with which were
+mingled the roarings of the panther, and the distant growls of the lion
+and tiger.
+
+The Englishman leaned almost out of his box, with a frightful sardonic
+smile on his lip, and with his large eyes still fixed, panted for
+breath. The perspiration ran down his bald red forehead, as if he had
+really expended an incredible amount of magnetic power in attracting
+Morok, whom he now saw close to the cavern entrance. The moment was
+decisive. Crouching down with his dagger in his hand, following with eye
+and gesture Death's every movement, who, roaring furiously, and opening
+wide her enormous jaws, seemed determined to guard the entrance of
+her den, Morok waited for the moment to rush upon her. There is such
+fascination in danger, that Adrienne shared, in spite of herself, the
+feeling of painful curiosity, mixed with terror, that thrilled through
+all the spectators. Leaning forward like the marchioness, and gazing
+upon this scene of fearful interest, the lady still held mechanically in
+her hand the Indian bouquet preserved since the morning. Suddenly,
+Morok raised a wild shout, as he rushed towards Death, who answered this
+exclamation by a dreadful roar, and threw herself upon her master with
+so much fury, that Adrienne, in alarm, believing the man lost, drew
+herself back, and covered her fact with her hands. Her flowers slipped
+from her grasp, and, falling upon the stage, rolled into the cavern in
+which Morok was struggling with the panther.
+
+Quick as lightning, supple and agile as a tiger, yielding to the
+intoxication of his love, and to the wild ardor excited in him by the
+roaring of the panther, Djalma sprang at one bound upon the stage, drew
+his dagger, and rushed into the cavern to recover Adrienne's nosegay. At
+that instant, Morok, being wounded, uttered a dreadful cry for help; the
+panther, rendered still more furious at sight of Djalma, make the most
+desperate efforts to break her chain. Unable to succeed in doing so, she
+rose upon her hind legs, in order to seize Djalma, then within reach of
+her sharp claws. It was only by bending down his head, throwing himself
+on his knees, and twice plunging his dagger into her belly with the
+rapidity of lightning, that Djalma escaped certain death. The panther
+gave a howl, and fell with her whole weight upon the prince. For a
+second, during which lasted her terrible agony, nothing was seen but a
+confused and convulsive mass of black limbs, and white garments
+stained with blood--and then Djalma rose, pale, bleeding, for he was
+wounded--and standing erect, his eye flashing with savage pride, his
+foot on the body of the panther, he held in his hand Adrienne's bouquet,
+and cast towards her a glance which told the intensity of his love.
+Then only did Adrienne feel her strength fail her--for only superhuman
+courage had enabled her to watch all the terrible incidents of the
+struggle.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IX. 
+
+     XV. The Constant Wanderer XVI. The Luncheon XVII. Rendering
+     the Account XVIII. The Square of Notre Dame XIX. The Cholera
+     Masquerade XX. The Defiance XXI. Brandy to the Rescue XXII.
+     Memories XXIII. The Poisoner XXIV. In the Cathedral XXV. The
+     Murderers XXVI. The Patient XXVII. The Lure XXVIII. Good
+     News XXIX. The Operation XXX. The Torture XXXI. Vice and
+     Virtue XXXII. Suicide
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. THE CONSTANT WANDERER.
+
+It is night. The moon shines and the stars glimmer in the midst of a
+serene but cheerless sky; the sharp whistlings of the north wind, that
+fatal, dry, and icy breeze, ever and anon burst forth in violent gusts.
+With its harsh and cutting breath, it sweeps Montmartre's Heights. On
+the highest point of the hills, a man is standing. His long shadow is
+cast upon the stony, moon-lit ground. He gazes on the immense city,
+which lies outspread beneath his feet. PARIS--with the dark outline of
+its towers, cupolas, domes, and steeples, standing out from the limpid
+blue of the horizon, while from the midst of the ocean of masonry, rises
+a luminous vapor, that reddens the starry azure of the sky. It is the
+distant reflection of the thousand fires, which at night, the hour of
+pleasures, light up so joyously the noisy capital.
+
+"No," said the wayfarer; "it is not to be. The Lord will not exact it.
+Is not twice enough?
+
+"Five centuries ago, the avenging hand of the Almighty drove me hither
+from the uttermost confines of Asia. A solitary traveller, I had left
+behind me more grief, despair, disaster, and death, than the innumerable
+armies of a hundred devastating conquerors. I entered this town, and it
+too was decimated.
+
+"Again, two centuries ago, the inexorable hand, which leads me through
+the world, brought me once more hither; and then, as the time before,
+the plague, which the Almighty attaches to my steps, again ravaged this
+city, and fell first on my brethren, already worn out with labor and
+misery.
+
+"My brethren--mine?--the cobbler of Jerusalem, the artisan accursed by
+the Lord, who, in my person, condemned the whole race of workmen,
+ever suffering, ever disinherited, ever in slavery, toiling on like me
+without rest or pause, without recompense or hope, till men, women,
+and children, young and old, all die beneath the same iron yoke--that
+murderous yoke, which others take in their turn, thus to be borne from
+age to age on the submissive and bruised shoulders of the masses.
+
+"And now, for the third time in five centuries, I reach the summit of
+one of the hills that overlook the city. And perhaps I again bring with
+me fear, desolation, and death.
+
+"Yet this city, intoxicated with the sounds of its joys and its
+nocturnal revelries, does not know--oh! does not know that I am at its
+gates.
+
+"But no, no! my presence will not be a new calamity. The Lord, in his
+impenetrable views, has hitherto led me through France, so as to
+avoid the humblest hamlet; and the sound of the funeral knell has not
+accompanied my passage.
+
+"And, moreover, the spectre has left me--the green, livid spectre, with
+its hollow, bloodshot eyes. When I touched the soil of France, its damp
+and icy hands was no longer clasped in mine--and it disappeared.
+
+"And yet--I feel that the atmosphere of death is around me.
+
+"The sharp whistlings of that fatal wind cease not, which, catching me
+in their whirl, seem to propagate blasting and mildew as they blow.
+
+"But perhaps the wrath of the Lord is appeased, and my presence here is
+only a threat--to be communicated in some way to those whom it should
+intimidate.
+
+"Yes; for otherwise he would smite with a fearful blow, by first
+scattering terror and death here in the heart of the country, in the
+bosom of this immense city!
+
+"Oh! no, no! the Lord will be merciful. No! he will not condemn me to
+this new torture.
+
+"Alas! in this city, my brethren are more numerous and miserable than
+elsewhere. And should I be their messenger of death?"
+
+"No! the Lord will have pity. For, alas! the seven descendants of my
+sister have at length met in this town. And to them likewise should I be
+the messenger of death, instead of the help they so much need?
+
+"For that woman, who like me wanders from one border of the earth to the
+other, after having once more rent asunder the nets of their enemies,
+has gone forth upon her endless journey.
+
+"In vain she foresaw that new misfortunes threatened my sister's family.
+The invisible hand, that drives me on, drives her on also.
+
+"Carried away, as of old, by the irresistible whirlwind, at the moment
+of leaving my kindred to their fate, she in vain cried with supplicating
+tone: 'Let me at least, O Lord, complete my task!'--'GO ON!--'A few
+days, in mercy, only a few poor days!'--'GO ON'--'I leave those I love
+on the brink of the abyss!'--'GO ON! GO ON!'
+
+"And the wandering star--again started on its eternal round. And her
+voice, passing through space, called me to the assistance of mine own.
+
+"When that voice readied me, I knew that the descendants of my sister
+were still exposed to frightful perils. Those perils are even now on the
+increase.
+
+"Tell me, O Lord! will they escape the scourge, which for so many
+centuries has weighed down our race?
+
+"Wilt thou pardon me in them? wilt thou punish me in them? Oh, that they
+might obey the last will of their ancestor!
+
+"Oh, that they might join together their charitable hearts, their valor
+and their strength, their noble intelligence, and their great riches!
+
+"They would then labor for the future happiness of humanity--they would
+thus, perhaps, redeem me from my eternal punishment!
+
+"The words of the Son of Man, LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER, will be their only
+end, their only means.
+
+"By the help of those all-powerful words, they will fight and conquer
+the false priests, who have renounced the precepts of love, peace, and
+hope, for lessons of hatred, violence, and despair.
+
+"Those false priests, who, kept in pay by the powerful and happy of this
+world, their accomplices in every age, instead of asking here below for
+some slight share of well-being for my unfortunate brethren, dare in
+thy name, O Lord God, to assert that the poor are condemned to endless
+suffering in this world--and that the desire or the hope to suffer less
+is a crime in thine eyes--because the happiness of the few, and the
+misery of nearly the whole human race, is (O blasphemy!) according to
+thy will. Is not the very contrary of those murderous words alone worthy
+of divinity!
+
+"In mercy, hear me, Lord! Rescue from their enemies the descendants of
+my sister--the artisan as the king's son. Do not let them destroy the
+germ of so mighty and fruitful an association, which, with thy blessing,
+would make an epoch in the annals of human happiness!
+
+"Let me unite them, O Lord, since others would divide them--defend them,
+since others attack; let me give hope to those who have ceased to hope,
+courage to those who are brought low with fear--let me raise up the
+falling, and sustain those who persevere in the way of the righteous!
+
+"And, peradventure, their struggles, devotion, virtue, and grief, may
+expiate my fault--that of a man, whom misfortune alone rendered unjust
+and wicked.
+
+"Oh! since Thy Almighty hand hath led me hither--to what end I know
+not--lay aside Thy wrath, I beseech Thee--let me be no longer the
+instrument of Thy vengeance!
+
+"Enough of woe upon the earth! for the last two years, Thy creatures
+have fallen by thousands upon my track. The world is decimated. A veil
+of mourning extends over all the globe.
+
+"From Asia to the icy Pole, they died upon the path of the wanderer.
+Dost Thou not hear the long-drawn sigh that rises from the earth unto
+Thee, O Lord?
+
+"Mercy for all! mercy for me!--Let me but unite the descendants of my
+sister for a single day, and they will be saved!"
+
+As he pronounced these words, the wayfarer sank upon his knees, and
+raised to heaven, his supplicating hands. Suddenly, the wind blew with
+redoubled violence; its sharp whistlings were changed into the roar of a
+tempest.
+
+The traveller shuddered; in a voice of terror he exclaimed: "The blast
+of death rises in its fury--the whirlwind carries me on--Lord! Thou art
+then deaf to my prayer?"
+
+"The spectre! oh, the spectre! it is again here! its green face
+twitching with convulsive spasms--its red eyes rolling in their orbits.
+Begone! begone!--its hand, oh! its icy hand has again laid hold of mine.
+Have mercy, heaven!"
+
+"GO ON!"
+
+"Oh, Lord! the pestilence--the terrible plague--must I carry it into
+this city?--And my brethren will perish the first--they, who are so
+sorely smitten even now! Mercy!"
+
+"GO ON!"
+
+"And the descendants of my sister. Mercy! Mercy!"
+
+"GO ON!"
+
+"Oh, Lord, have pity!--I can no longer keep my ground; the spectre drags
+me to the slope of the hill; my walk is rapid as the deadly blast that
+rages behind me; already do I behold the city gates. Have mercy, Lord,
+on the descendants of my sister! Spare them; do not make me their
+executioner; let them triumph over their enemies!"
+
+"GO ON! GO ON!"
+
+"The ground flies beneath my feet; there is the city gate. Lord, it is
+yet time! Oh, mercy for that sleeping town! Let it not waken to cries
+of terror, despair, and death! Lord, I am on the threshold. Must it
+be?--Yes, it is done. Paris, the plague is in thy bosom. The curse--oh,
+the eternal curse!"
+
+"GO ON! GO ON! GO ON!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE LUNCHEON.
+
+The morning after the doomed traveller, descending the heights of
+Montmartre, had entered the walls of Paris, great activity reigned in
+St. Dizier House. Though it was hardly noon, the Princess de St. Dizier,
+without being exactly in full dress (she had too much taste for that),
+was yet arrayed with more care than usual. Her light hair, instead of
+being merely banded, was arranged in two bunches of curls, which suited
+very well with her full and florid cheeks. Her cap was trimmed with
+bright rose-colored ribbon, and whoever had seen the lady in her tight
+fitting dress of gray-watered silk would have easily guessed that
+Mrs. Grivois, her tirewoman, must have required the assistance and the
+efforts of another of the princess's women to achieve so remarkable a
+reduction in the ample figure of their mistress.
+
+We shall explain the edifying cause of this partial return to the
+vanities of the world. The princess, attended by Mrs. Grivois, who
+acted as housekeeper, was giving her final orders with regard to some
+preparations that were going on in a vast parlor. In the midst of this
+room was a large round table, covered with crimson velvet, and near it
+stood several chairs, amongst which, in the place of honor, was an arm
+chair of gilded wood. In one corner, not far from the chimney, in which
+burned an excellent fire, was a buffet. On it were the divers materials
+for a most dainty and exquisite collation. Upon silver dishes were piled
+pyramids of sandwiches composed of the roes of carp and anchovy paste,
+with slices of pickled tunny-fish and Lenigord truffles (it was in
+Lent); on silver dishes, placed over burning spirits of wine, so as to
+keep them very hot, tails of Meuse crawfish boiled in cream, smoked in
+golden colored pastry, and seemed to challenge comparison with delicious
+little Marennes oyster-patties, stewed in Madeira, and flavored with a
+seasoning of spiced sturgeon. By the side of these substantial
+dishes were some of a lighter character, such as pineapple tarts,
+strawberry-creams (it was early for such fruit), and orange-jelly served
+in the peel, which had been artistically emptied for that purpose.
+Bordeaux, Madeira, and Alicant sparkled like rubies and topazes in large
+glass decanters, while two Sevres ewers were filled, one with coffee
+a la creme, the other with vanilla chocolate, almost in the state of
+sherbet, from being plunged in a large cooler of chiselled silver,
+containing ice.
+
+But what gave to this dainty collation a singularly apostolic and
+papal character were sundry symbols of religious worship carefully
+represented. Thus there were charming little Calvaries in apricot paste,
+sacerdotal mitres in burnt almonds, episcopal croziers in sweet cake,
+to which the princess added, as a mark of delicate attention, a little
+cardinal's hat in cherry sweetmeat, ornamented with bands in burnt
+sugar. The most important, however, of these Catholic delicacies, the
+masterpiece of the cook, was a superb crucifix in angelica, with a crown
+of candied berries. These are strange profanations, which scandalize
+even the least devout. But, from the impudent juggle of the coat of
+Triers, down to the shameless jest of the shrine at Argenteuil, people,
+who are pious after the fashion of the princess, seem to take delight in
+bringing ridicule upon the most respectable traditions.
+
+After glancing with an air of satisfaction at these preparations for the
+collation, the lady said to Mrs. Grivois, as she pointed to the gilded
+arm-chair, which seemed destined for the president of the meeting: "Is
+there a cushion under the table, for his Eminence to rest his feet on?
+He always complains of cold."
+
+"Yes, your highness," said Mrs. Grivois, when she had looked under the
+table; "the cushion is there."
+
+"Let also a pewter bottle be filled with boiling water, in case his
+Eminence should not find the cushion enough to keep his feet warm."
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"And put some more wood on the fire."
+
+"But, my lady, it is already a very furnace. And if his Eminence is
+always too cold, my lord the Bishop of Halfagen is always too hot. He
+perspires dreadfully."
+
+The princess shrugged her shoulders, and said to Mrs. Grivois: "Is not
+his Eminence Cardinal Malipieri the superior of his Lordship the Bishop
+of Halfagen?"
+
+"Yes, your highness."
+
+"Then, according to the rules of the hierarchy, it is for his Lordship
+to suffer from the heat, rather than his Eminence from the cold.
+Therefore, do as I tell you, and put more wood on the fire. Nothing is
+more natural; his Eminence being an Italian, and his Lordship
+coming from the north of Belgium, they are accustomed to different
+temperatures."
+
+"Just as your highness pleases," said Mrs. Grivois, as she placed two
+enormous logs on the fire; "but in such a heat as there is here his
+Lordship might really be suffocated."
+
+"I also find it too warm; but does not our holy religion teach us
+lessons of self-sacrifice and mortification?" said the princess, with a
+touching expression of devotion.
+
+We have now explained the cause of the rather gay attire of the
+princess. She was preparing for a reception of prelates, who, along with
+Father d'Aigrigny and other dignitaries of the Church, had already held
+at the princely house a sort of council on a small scale. A young bride
+who gives her first ball, an emancipated minor who gives his first
+bachelor's dinner, a woman of talent who reads aloud for the first time
+her first unpublished work, are not more joyous and proud, and, at the
+same time, more attentive to their guests, than was this lady with her
+prelates. To behold great interests discussed in her house, and in
+her presence, to hear men of acknowledged ability ask her advice
+upon certain practical matters relating to the influence of female
+congregations, filled the princess with pride, as her claims to
+consideration were thus sanctioned by Lordships and Eminences, and she
+took the position, as it were, of a mother of the Church. Therefore, to
+win these prelates, whether native or foreign, she had recourse to no
+end of saintly flatteries and sanctified coaxing. Nor could anything be
+more logical than these successive transfigurations of this heartless
+woman, who only loved sincerely and passionately the pursuit of intrigue
+and domination. With the progress of age, she passed naturally from the
+intrigues of love to those of politics, and from the latter to those of
+religion.
+
+At the moment she finished inspecting her preparations, the sound of
+coaches was heard in the courtyard, apprising her of the arrival of the
+persons she had been expecting. Doubtless, these persons were of the
+highest rank, for contrary to all custom, she went to receive them at
+the door of her outer saloon. It was, indeed, Cardinal Malipieri, who
+was always cold, with the Belgian Bishop of Halfagen, who was always
+hot. They were accompanied by Father d'Aigrigny. The Roman cardinal was
+a tall man, rather bony than thin, with a yellowish puffy countenance,
+haughty and full of craft; he squinted a good deal, and his black eyes
+were surrounded by a deep brown circle. The Belgian Bishop was short,
+thick, and fat, with a prominent abdomen, an apoplectic complexion, a
+slow, deliberate look, and a soft, dimpled, delicate hand.
+
+The company soon assembled in the great saloon. The cardinal instantly
+crept close to the fire, whilst the bishop, beginning to sweat and blow,
+cast longing glances at the iced chocolate and coffee, which were to aid
+him in sustaining the oppressive heat of the artificial dog-day. Father
+d'Aigrigny, approaching the princess, said to her in a low voice: "Will
+you give orders for the admittance of Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont, when he
+arrives?"
+
+"Is that young priest then here?" asked the princess, with extreme
+surprise.
+
+"Since the day before yesterday. We had him sent for to Paris, by his
+superiors. You shall know all. As for Father Rodin, let Mrs. Grivois
+admit him, as the other day, by the little door of the back stairs."
+
+"He will come to-day?"
+
+"He has very important matters to communicate. He desires that both the
+cardinal and the bishop should be present for they have been informed
+of everything at Rome by the Superior General, in their quality of
+associates."
+
+The princess rang the bell, gave the necessary orders, and, returning
+towards the cardinal, said to him, in a tone of the most earnest
+solicitude: "Does your Eminence begin to feel a little warmer? Would
+your Eminence like a bottle of hot water to your feet? Shall we make a
+larger fire for your Eminence?"
+
+At this proposition, the Belgian bishop, who was wiping the perspiration
+from his forehead, heaved a despairing sigh.
+
+"A thousand thanks, princess," answered the cardinal to her, in very
+good French, but with an intolerable Italian accent; "I am really
+overcome with so much kindness."
+
+"Will not your Lordship take some refreshment?" said the princess to the
+bishop, as she turned towards the sideboard.
+
+"With your permission, madame, I will take a little iced coffee," said
+the prelate, making a prudent circuit to approach the dishes without
+passing before the fire.
+
+"And will not your Eminence try one of these little oyster-patties? They
+are quite hot," said the princess.
+
+"I know them already, princess," said the cardinal, with the air
+and look of an epicure; "they are delicious, and I cannot resist the
+temptation."
+
+"What wine shall I have the honor to offer your Eminence?" resumed the
+princess, graciously.
+
+"A little claret, if you please, madame;" and as Father d'Aigrigny
+prepared to fill the cardinal's glass, the princess disputed with him
+that pleasure.
+
+"Your Eminence will doubtless approve what I have done," said Father
+d'Aigrigny to the cardinal, whilst the latter was gravely despatching
+the oyster-patties, "in not summoning for to-day the Bishop of
+Mogador, the Archbishop of Nanterre, and our holy Mother Perpetue, the
+lady-superior of St. Mary Convent, the interview we are about to have
+with his Reverence Father Rodin and Abbe Gabriel being altogether
+private and confidential."
+
+"Our good father was perfectly right," said the cardinal; "for, though
+the possible consequences of this Rennepont affair may interest the
+whole Church, there are some things that are as well kept secret."
+
+"Then I must seize this opportunity to thank your Eminence for having
+deigned to make an exception in favor of a very obscure and humble
+servant of the Church," said the princess to the cardinal, with a very
+deep and respectful curtsey.
+
+"It is only just and right, madame," replied the cardinal, bowing as he
+replaced his empty glass upon the table; "we know how much the Church
+is indebted to you for the salutary direction you give to the religious
+institutions of which you are the patroness."
+
+"With regard to that, your Eminence may be assured that I always refuse
+assistance to any poor person who cannot produce a certificate from the
+confessional."
+
+"And it is only thus, madame," resumed the cardinal, this time allowing
+himself to be tempted by the attractions of the crawfish's tails, "it
+is only thus that charity has any meaning. I care little that the
+irreligious should feel hunger, but with the pious it is different;" and
+the prelate gayly swallowed a mouthful. "Moreover," resumed he, "it is
+well known with what ardent zeal you pursue the impious, and those who
+are rebels against the authority of our Holy Father."
+
+"Your Eminence may feel convinced that I am Roman in heart and soul;
+I see no difference between a Gallican and a Turk," said the princess,
+bravely.
+
+"The princess is right," said the Belgian bishop: "I will go further,
+and assert that a Gallican should be more odious to the church than a
+pagan. In this respect I am of the opinion of Louis XIV. They asked him
+a favor for a man about the court. 'Never,' said the great king; 'this
+person is a Jansenist.'--'No, sire; he is an atheist.'--'Oh! that is
+different; I will grant what he asks,' said the King."
+
+This little episcopal jest made them all laugh. After which Father
+d'Aigrigny resumed seriously, addressing the cardinal: "Unfortunately,
+as I was about to observe to your Eminence with regard to the Abbe
+Gabriel, unless they are very narrowly watched, the lower clergy have
+a tendency to become infected with dissenting views, and with ideas of
+rebellion against what they call the despotism of the bishops."
+
+"This young man must be a Catholic Luther!" said the bishop. And,
+walking on tip-toe, he went to pour himself out a glorious glass of
+Madeira, in which he soaked some sweet cake, made in the form of a
+crozier.
+
+Led by his example, the Cardinal, under pretence of warming his feet by
+drawing still closer to the fire, helped himself to an excellent glass
+of old Malaga, which he swallowed by mouthfuls, with an air of profound
+meditation; after which he resumed: "So this Abbe Gabriel starts as a
+reformer. He must be an ambitious man. Is he dangerous?"
+
+"By our advice his superiors have judged him to be so. They have ordered
+him to come hither. He will soon be here, and I will tell your Eminence
+why I have sent for him. But first, I have a note on the dangerous
+tendencies of the Abbe Gabriel. Certain questions were addressed to
+him, with regard to some of his acts, and it was in consequence of his
+answers that his superiors recalled him."
+
+So saying, Father d'Aigrigny, took from his pocket-book a paper, which
+he read as follows:
+
+"'Question.--Is it true that you performed religious rites for an
+inhabitant of your parish who died in final impenitence of the most
+detestable kind, since he had committed suicide?
+
+"'Answer of Abbe Gabriel.--I paid him the last duties, because, more
+than any one else, because of his guilty end, he required the prayers of
+the church. During the night which followed his interment I continually
+implored for him the divine mercy.
+
+"'Q.--Is it true that you refused a set of silver-gilt sacramental
+vessels, and other ornaments, with which one of the faithful, in pious
+zeal, wished to endow your parish?
+
+"'A.--I refused the vessels and embellishments, because the house of the
+Lord should be plain and without ornament, so as to remind the faithful
+that the divine Saviour was born in a stable. I advised the person who
+wished to make these useless presents to my parish to employ the money
+in judicious almsgiving, assuring him it would be more agreeable to the
+Lord.'"
+
+"What a bitter and violent declamation against the adorning of our
+temples!" cried the cardinal. "This young priest is most dangerous.
+Continue, my good father."
+
+And, in his indignation, his Eminence swallowed several mouthfuls of
+strawberry-cream. Father d'Aigrigny continued.
+
+"'Q.--Is it true that you received in your parsonage, and kept there for
+some days, an inhabitant of the village, by birth a Swiss, belonging to
+the Protestant communion? Is it true that not only you did not attempt
+to convert him to the one Catholic and Apostolic faith, but that you
+carried so far the neglect of your sacred duties as to inter this
+heretic in the ground consecrated for the repose of true believers?
+
+"'A.--One of my brethren was houseless. His life had been honest and
+laborious. In his old age his strength had failed him, and sickness had
+come at the back of it; almost in a dying state, he had been driven from
+his humble dwelling by a pitiless landlord, to whom he owed a year's
+rent. I received the old man in my house, and soothed his last days. The
+poor creature had toiled and suffered all his life; dying, he uttered no
+word of bitterness at his hard fate; he recommended his soul to God and
+piously kissed the crucifix. His pure and simple spirit returned to the
+bosom of its Creator. I closed his eyes with respect, I buried him, I
+prayed for him; and, though he died in the Protestant faith, I thought
+him worthy of a place in consecrated ground.'"
+
+"Worse and worse!" said the cardinal. "This tolerance is monstrous. It
+is a horrible attack on that maxim of Catholicism: 'Out of the pale of
+the Church there is no salvation.'"
+
+"And all this is the more serious, my lord," resumed Father d'Aigrigny,
+"because the mildness, charity, and Christian devotion of Abbe Gabriel
+have excited, not only in his parish, but in all the surrounding
+districts, the greatest enthusiasm. The priests of the neighboring
+parishes have yielded to the general impulse, and it must be confessed
+that but for his moderation a wide-spread schism would have commenced."
+
+"But what do you hope will result from bringing him here?" said the
+prelate.
+
+"The position of Abbe Gabriel is complicated; first of all, he is the
+heir of the Rennepont family."
+
+"But has he not ceded his rights?" asked the cardinal.
+
+"Yes, my lord; and this cession, which was at first informal, has
+lately, with his free consent, been made perfectly regular in law; for
+he had sworn, happen what might, to renounce his part of the inheritance
+in favor of the Society of Jesus. Nevertheless, his Reverence Father
+Rodin thinks, that if your Eminence, after explaining to Abbe Gabriel
+that he was about to be recalled by his superiors, were to propose to
+him some eminent position at Rome, he might be induced to leave France,
+and we might succeed in arousing within him those sentiments of ambition
+which are doubtless only sleeping for the present; your Eminence, having
+observed, very judiciously, that every reformer must be ambitious."
+
+"I approve of this idea," said the cardinal, after a moment's
+reflection; "with his merit and power of acting on other men, Abbe
+Gabriel may rise very high, if he is docile; and if he should not be so,
+it is better for the safety of the Church that he should be at Rome
+than here--for you know, my good father, we have securities that are
+unfortunately wanting in France."(36)
+
+After some moments of silence, the cardinal said suddenly to Father
+d'Aigrigny: "As we were talking of Father Rodin, tell me frankly what
+you think of him."
+
+"Your Eminence knows his capacity," said Father d'Aigrigny, with a
+constrained and suspicious air; "our reverend Father-General--"
+
+"Commissioned him to take your place," said the cardinal; "I know that.
+He told me so at Rome. But what do you think of the character of Father
+Rodin? Can one have full confidence in him?"
+
+"He has so complete, so original, so secret, and so impenetrable a
+mind," said Father d'Aigrigny, with hesitation, "that it is difficult to
+form any certain judgment with respect to him."
+
+"Do you think him ambitious?" said the cardinal, after another moment's
+pause. "Do you not suppose him capable of having other views than those
+of the greater glory of his Order?--Come, I have reasons for speaking
+thus," added the prelate, with emphasis.
+
+"Why," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, not without suspicion, for the game
+is played cautiously between people of the same craft, "what should your
+Eminence think of him, either from your own observation, or from the
+report of the Father-General?"
+
+"I think--that if his apparent devotion to his Order really concealed
+some after-thought--it would be well to discover it--for, with the
+influence that he has obtained at Rome (as I have found out), he might
+one day, and that shortly, become very formidable."
+
+"Well!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, impelled by his jealousy of Rodin; "I
+am, in this respect, of the same opinion as your Eminence; for I have
+sometimes perceived in him flashes of ambition, that were as alarming as
+they were extraordinary--and since I must tell all to your Eminence--"
+
+Father d'Aigrigny was unable to continue; at this moment Mrs. Grivois,
+who had been knocking at the door, half-opened it, and made a sign to
+her mistress. The princess answered by bowing her head, and Mrs. Grivois
+again withdrew. A second afterwards Rodin entered the room.
+
+(36) It is known that, in 1845, the Inquisition, solitary confinement,
+etc., still existed at Rome.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. RENDERING THE ACCOUNT.
+
+At sight of Rodin, the two prelates and Father d'Aigrigny rose
+spontaneously, so much were they overawed by the real superiority
+of this man; their faces, just before contracted with suspicion and
+jealousy, suddenly brightened up, and seemed to smile on the reverend
+father with affectionate deference. The princess advanced some steps to
+meet him.
+
+Rodin, badly dressed as ever, leaving on the soft carpet the muddy track
+of his clumsy shoes, put his umbrella into one corner, and advanced
+towards the table--not with his accustomed humility, but with slow step,
+uplifted head, and steady glance; not only did he feel himself in the
+midst of his partisans, but he knew that he could rule them all by the
+power of his intellect.
+
+"We were speaking of your reverence, my dear, good father," said the
+cardinal, with charming affability.
+
+"Ah!" said Rodin, looking fixedly at the prelate; "and what were you
+saying?"
+
+"Why," replied the Belgian bishop, wiping his forehead, "all the good
+that can be said of your reverence."
+
+"Will you not take something, my good father?" said the princess to
+Rodin, as she pointed to the splendid sideboard.
+
+"Thank you, madame, I have eaten my radish already this morning."
+
+"My secretary, Abbe Berlini, who was present at your repast, was,
+indeed, much astonished at your reverence's frugality," said the
+prelate: "it is worthy of an anchorite."
+
+"Suppose we talk of business," said Rodin, abruptly, like a man
+accustomed to lead and control the discussion.
+
+"We shall always be most happy to hear you," said the prelate. "Your
+reverence yourself fixed to-day to talk over this great Rennepont
+affair. It is of such importance, that it was partly the cause of my
+journey to France; for to support the interests of the glorious Company
+of Jesus, with which I have the honor of being associated, is to support
+the interests of Rome itself, and I promised the reverend Father-General
+that I would place myself entirely at your orders."
+
+"I can only repeat what his Eminence has just said," added the bishop.
+"We set out from Rome together, and our ideas are just the same."
+
+"Certainly," said Rodin, addressing the cardinal, "your Eminence may
+serve our cause, and that materially. I will tell you how presently."
+
+Then, addressing the princess, he continued: "I have desired Dr.
+Baleinier to come here, madame, for it will be well to inform him of
+certain things."
+
+"He will be admitted as usual," said the princess.
+
+Since Rodin's arrival Father d'Aigrigny had remained silent; he seemed
+occupied with bitter thoughts, and with some violent internal struggle.
+At last, half rising, he said to the prelate, in a forced tone of voice:
+"I will not ask your Eminence to judge between the reverend Father Rodin
+and myself. Our General has pronounced, and I have obeyed. But, as your
+Eminence will soon see our superior, I should wish that you would grant
+me the favor to report faithfully the answers of Father Rodin to one or
+two questions I am about to put to him."
+
+The prelate bowed. Rodin looked at Father d'Aigrigny with an air of
+surprise, and said to him, dryly: "The thing is decided. What is the use
+of questions?"
+
+"Not to justify myself," answered Father d'Aigrigny, "but to place
+matters in their true light before his Eminence."
+
+"Speak, then; but let us have no useless speeches," said Rodin, drawing
+out his large silver watch, and looking at it. "By two o'clock I must be
+at Saint-Sulpice."
+
+"I will be as brief as possible," said Father d'Aigrigny, with repressed
+resentment. Then, addressing Rodin, he resumed: "When your reverence
+thought fit to take my place, and to blame, very severely perhaps,
+the manner in which I had managed the interests confided to my care, I
+confess honestly that these interests were gravely compromised."
+
+"Compromised?" said Rodin, ironically; "you mean lost. Did you not order
+me to write to Rome, to bid them renounce all hope?"
+
+"That is true," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"It was then a desperate case, given up by the best doctors," continued
+Rodin, with irony, "and yet I have undertaken to restore it to life. Go
+on."
+
+And, plunging both hands into the pockets of his trousers, he looked
+Father d'Aigrigny full in the face.
+
+"Your reverence blamed me harshly," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "not for
+having sought, by every possible means, to recover the property odiously
+diverted from our society--"
+
+"All your casuists authorize you to do so," said the cardinal; "the
+texts are clear and positive; you have a right to recover; per fas aut
+nefas what has been treacherously taken from you."
+
+"And therefore," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "Father Rodin only
+reproached me with the military roughness of my means. 'Their violence,'
+he said, 'was in dangerous opposition to the manners of the age.' Be it
+so; but first of all, I could not be exposed to any legal proceedings,
+and, but for one fatal circumstance, success would have crowned the
+course I had taken, however rough and brutal it may appear. Now, may I
+ask your reverence what--"
+
+"What I have done more than you?" said Rodin to Father d'Aigrigny,
+giving way to his impertinent habit of interrupting people; "what I have
+done better than you?--what step I have taken in the Rennepont affair,
+since I received it from you in a desperate condition? Is that what you
+wish to know?"
+
+"Precisely," said Father d'Aigrigny, dryly.
+
+"Well, I confess," resumed Rodin, in a sardonic tone, "just as you did
+great things, coarse things, turbulent things, I have been doing little,
+puerile, secret things. Oh, heaven! you cannot imagine what a foolish
+part I, who passed for a man of enlarged views, have been acting for the
+last six weeks."
+
+"I should never have allowed myself to address such a reproach to your
+reverence, however deserved it may appear," said Father d'Aigrigny, with
+a bitter smile.
+
+"A reproach?" said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders; "a reproach? You
+shall be the judge. Do you know what I wrote about you, some six weeks
+ago? Here it is: 'Father d'Aigrigny has excellent qualities. He will
+be of much service to me'--and from to-morrow I shall employ you very
+actively, added Rodin, by way of parenthesis--'but he is not great
+enough to know how to make himself little on occasion.' Do you
+understand?"
+
+"Not very well," said Father d'Aigrigny, blushing.
+
+"So much the worse for you," answered Rodin; "it only proves that I was
+right. Well, since I must tell you, I have been wise enough to play the
+most foolish part for six whole weeks. Yes, I have chatted nonsense with
+a grisette--have talked of liberty, progress, humanity, emancipation of
+women, with a young, excited girl; of Napoleon the Great, and all sorts
+of Bonapartist idolatry, with an old, imbecile soldier; of imperial
+glory, humiliation of France, hopes in the King of Rome, with a certain
+marshal of France, who, with a heart full of adoration for the robber of
+thrones, that was transported to Saint-Helena, has a head as hollow and
+sonorous as a trumpet, into which you have only to blow some warlike or
+patriotic notes, and it will flourish away of itself, without knowing
+why or how. More than all this, I have talked of love affairs with
+a young tiger. When I told you it was lamentable to see a man of
+any intelligence descend, as I have done, to all such petty ways of
+connecting the thousand threads of this dark web, was I not right? Is it
+not a fine spectacle to see the spider obstinately weaving its net?--to
+see the ugly little black animal crossing thread upon thread, fastening
+it here, strengthening it there, and again lengthening it in some
+other place? You shrug your shoulders in pity; but return two hours
+after--what will you find? The little black animal eating its fill, and
+in its web a dozen of the foolish flies, bound so securely, that the
+little black animal has only to choose the moment of its repast."
+
+As he uttered those words, Rodin smiled strangely; his eyes, gradually
+half closed, opened to their full width, and seemed to shine more
+than usual. The Jesuit felt a sort of feverish excitement, which he
+attributed to the contest in which he had engaged before these eminent
+personages, who already felt the influence of his original and cutting
+speech.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny began to regret having entered on the contest. He
+resumed, however, with ill-repressed irony: "I do not dispute the
+smallness of your means. I agree with you, they are very puerile--they
+are even very vulgar. But that is not quite sufficient to give an
+exalted notion of your merit. May I be allowed to ask--"
+
+"What these means have produced?" resumed Rodin, with an excitement that
+was not usual with him. "Look into my spider's web, and you will see
+there the beautiful and insolent young girl, so proud, six weeks ago, of
+her grace, mind, and audacity--now pale, trembling, mortally wounded at
+the heart."
+
+"But the act of chivalrous intrepidity of the Indian prince, with which
+all Paris is ringing," said the princess, "must surely have touched
+Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"Yes; but I have paralyzed the effect of that stupid and savage
+devotion, by demonstrating to the young lady that it is not sufficient
+to kill black panthers to prove one's self a susceptible, delicate, and
+faithful lover."
+
+"Be it so," said Father d'Aigrigny; "we will admit the fact that Mdlle.
+de Cardoville is wounded to the heart."
+
+"But what does this prove with regard to the Rennepont affair?" asked
+the cardinal, with curiosity, as he leaned his elbows on the table.
+
+"There results from it," said Rodin, "that when our most dangerous enemy
+is mortally wounded, she abandons the battlefield. That is something, I
+should imagine."
+
+"Indeed," said the princess, "the talents and audacity of Mdlle. de
+Cardoville would make her the soul of the coalition formed against us."
+
+"Be it so," replied Father d'Aigrigny, obstinately; "she may be no
+longer formidable in that respect. But the wound in her heart will not
+prevent her from inheriting."
+
+"Who tells you so?" asked Rodin, coldly, and with assurance. "Do you
+know why I have taken such pains, first to bring her in contact with
+Djalma, and then to separate her from him?"
+
+"That is what I ask you," said Father D'Aigrigny; "how can this storm of
+passion prevent Mdlle. de Cardoville and the prince from inheriting?"
+
+"Is it from the serene, or from the stormy sky, that darts the
+destroying thunderbolt?" said Rodin, disdainfully. "Be satisfied; I
+shall know where to place the conductor. As for M. Hardy, the man lived
+for three things: his workmen, his friend, his mistress. He has been
+thrice wounded in the heart. I always take aim at the heart; it is legal
+and sure."
+
+"It is legal, and sure, and praiseworthy," said the bishop; "for, if
+I understand you rightly, this manufacturer had a concubine; now it is
+well to make use of an evil passion for the punishment of the wicked."
+
+"True, quite true," added the cardinal; "if they have evil passion for
+us to make use of it, it is their own fault."
+
+"Our holy Mother Perpetue," said the princess, "took every means to
+discover this abominable adultery."
+
+"Well, then, M. Hardy is wounded in his dearest affections, I admit,"
+said Father d'Aigrigny, still disputing every inch of ground; "ruined
+too in his fortune, which will only make him the more eager after this
+inheritance."
+
+The argument appeared of weight to the two prelates and the princess;
+all looked at Rodin with anxious curiosity. Instead of answering he
+walked up to the sideboard, and, contrary to his habits of stoical
+sobriety, and in spite of his repugnance for wine, he examined the
+decanters, and said: "What is there in them?"
+
+"Claret and sherry," said the hostess, much astonished at the sudden
+taste of Rodin, "and--"
+
+The latter took a decanter at hazard, and poured out a glass of Madeira,
+which he drank off at a draught. Just be fore he had felt a strange kind
+of shivering; to this had succeeded a sort of weakness. He hoped the
+wine would revive him.
+
+After wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty hand, he returned to
+the table, and said to Father d'Aigrigny: "What did you tell me about M.
+Hardy?"
+
+"That being ruined in fortune, he would be the more eager to obtain this
+immense inheritance," answered Father d'Aigrigny, inwardly much offended
+at the imperious tone.
+
+"M. Hardy think of money?" said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders. "He is
+indifferent to life, plunged in a stupor from which he only starts to
+burst into tears. Then he speaks with mechanical kindness to those about
+him. I have placed him in good hands. He begins, however, to be sensible
+to the attentions shown him, for he is good, excellent, weak; and ii is
+to this excellence, Father d'Aigrigny, that you must appeal to finish
+the work in hand."
+
+"I?" said Father d'Aigrigny, much surprised.
+
+"Yes; and then you will find that the result I have obtained is
+considerable, and--"
+
+Rodin paused, and, pressing his hand to his forehead, said to himself:
+"It is strange!"
+
+"What is the matter?" said the princess, with interest.
+
+"Nothing, madame," answered Rodin, with a shiver; "it is doubtless the
+wine I drank; I am not accustomed to it. I feel a slight headache; but
+it will pass."
+
+"Your eyes are very bloodshot, my good father, said the princess.
+
+"I have looked too closely into my web," answered the Jesuit, with a
+sinister smile; "and I must look again, to make Father d'Aigrigny,
+who pretends to be blind, catch a glimpse of my other flies. The two
+daughters of Marshal Simon, for instance, growing sadder and more
+dejected every day, at the icy barrier raised between them and their
+father; and the latter thinking himself one day dishonored if he does
+this, another if he does that; so that the hero of the Empire has become
+weaker and more irresolute than a child. What more remains of this
+impious family? Jacques Rennepont? Ask Morok, to what a state of
+debasement intemperance has reduced him, and towards what an abyss he is
+rushing!--There is my occurrence-sheet; you see to what are reduced all
+the members of this family, who, six weeks ago, had each elements of
+strength and union! Behold these Renneponts, who, by the will of their
+heretical ancestor, were to unite their forces to combat and crush our
+Society!--There was good reason to fear them; but what did I say? That I
+would act upon their passions. What have I done? I have acted upon their
+passions. At this hour they are vainly struggling in my web--they are
+mine--they are mine--"
+
+As he was speaking, Rodin's countenance and voice had undergone a
+singular alteration; his complexion, generally so cadaverous, had become
+flushed, but unequally, and in patches; then, strange phenomenon! his
+eyes grew both more brilliant and more sunken, and his voice sharper
+and louder. The change in the countenance of Rodin, of which he did not
+appear to be conscious, was so remarkable, that the other actors in this
+scene looked at him with a sort of terror.
+
+Deceived as to the cause of this impression, Rodin exclaimed with
+indignation, in a voice interrupted by deep gaspings for breath: "It is
+pity for this impious race, that I read upon your faces? Pity for the
+young girl, who never enters a church, and erects pagan altars in
+her habitation? Pity for Hardy, the sentimental blasphemer, the
+philanthropic atheist, who had no chapel in his factory, and dared
+to blend the names of Socrates, Marcus, Aurelius, and Plato, with our
+Savior's? Pity for the Indian worshipper of Brahma? Pity for the two
+sisters, who have never even been baptized? Pity for that brute, Jacques
+Rennepont? Pity for the stupid imperial soldier, who has Napoleon for
+his god, and the bulletins of the Grand Army for his gospel? Pity
+for this family of renegades, whose ancestor, a relapsed heretic, not
+content with robbing us of our property, excites from his tomb, at the
+end of a century and a half, his cursed race to lift their heads against
+us? What! to defend ourselves from these vipers, we shall not have the
+right to crush them in their own venom?--I tell you, that it is to
+serve heaven, and to give a salutary example to the world, to devote, by
+unchaining their own passions, this impious family to grief and despair
+and death!"
+
+As he spoke thus, Rodin was dreadful in his ferocity; the fire of his
+eyes became still more brilliant; his lips were dry and burning, a cold
+sweat bathed his temples, which could be seen throbbing; an icy shudder
+ran through his frame. Attributing these symptoms to fatigue from
+writing through a portion of the night, and wishing to avoid fainting,
+he went to the sideboard, filled another glass with wine, which he drank
+off at a draught, and returned as the cardinal said to him: "If your
+course with regard to this family needed justification, my good father,
+your last word would have victoriously justified it. Not only are you
+right, according to your own casuists, but there is nothing in your
+proceedings contrary to human laws. As for the divine law, it is
+pleasing to the Lord to destroy impiety with its own weapons."
+
+Conquered, as well as the others, by Rodin's diabolical assurance, and
+brought back to a kind of fearful admiration, Father d'Aigrigny said to
+him: "I confess I was wrong in doubting the judgment of your reverence.
+Deceived by the appearance of the means employed, I could not judge
+of their connection, and above all, of their results. I now see, that,
+thanks to you, success is no longer doubtful."
+
+"This is an exaggeration," replied Rodin, with feverish impatience; "all
+these passions are at work, but the moment is critical. As the alchemist
+bends over the crucible, which may give him either treasures or sudden
+death--I alone at this moment--"
+
+Rodin did not finish the sentence. He pressed both his hands to his
+forehead, with a stifled cry of pain.
+
+"What is the matter?" said Father d'Aigrigny. "For some moments you have
+been growing fearfully pale."
+
+"I do not know 'what is the matter," said Rodin, in an altered voice;
+"my headache increases--I am seized with a sort of giddiness."
+
+"Sit down," said the princess, with interest.
+
+"Take something," said the bishop.
+
+"It will be nothing," said Rodin, with an effort; "I am no milksop,
+thank heaven!--I had little sleep last night; it is fatigue--nothing
+more. I was saying, that I alone could now direct this affair: but I
+cannot execute the plan myself. I must keep out of the way, and watch
+in the shade: I must hold the threads, which I alone can manage," added
+Rodin, in a faint voice.
+
+"My good father," said the cardinal uneasily, "I assure you that you are
+very unwell. Your paleness is becoming livid."
+
+"It is possible," answered Rodin, courageously; "but I am not to be so
+soon conquered. To return to our affair--this is the time, in which your
+qualities, Father d'Aigrigny, will turn to good account. I have never
+denied them, and they may now be of the greatest use. You have the power
+of charming--grace--eloquence--you must--"
+
+Rodin paused again. A cold sweat poured from his forehead. He felt his
+legs give way under him, notwithstanding his obstinate energy.
+
+"I confess, I am not well," he said; "yet, this morning, I was as well
+as ever. I shiver. I am icy cold."
+
+"Draw near the fire--it is a sudden indisposition," said the bishop,
+offering his arm with heroic devotion; "it will not be anything of
+consequence."
+
+"If you were to take something warm, a cup of tea," said the princess;
+"Dr. Baleinier will be here directly--he will reassure us as to
+this--indisposition."
+
+"It is really inexplicable," said the prelate.
+
+At these words of the cardinal, Rodin, who had advanced with difficulty
+towards the fire, turned his eyes upon the prelate, and looked at him
+fixedly in a strange manner, for about a second; then, strong in his
+unconquerable energy, notwithstanding the change in his features, which
+were now visibly disfigured, Rodin said, in a broken voice, which he
+tried to make firm: "The fire has warmed me; it will be nothing. I have
+no time to coddle myself. It would be a pretty thing to fall ill just as
+the Rennepont affair can only succeed by my exertions! Let us return to
+business. I told you, Father d'Aigrigny, that you might serve us a good
+deal; and you also, princess, who have espoused this cause as if it were
+your own--"
+
+Rodin again paused. This time he uttered a piercing cry, sank upon
+a chair placed near him, and throwing himself back convulsively, he
+pressed his hands to his chest, and exclaimed: "Oh! what pain!"
+
+Then (dreadful sight!) a cadaverous decomposition, rapid as thought,
+took place in Rodin's features. His hollow eyes were filled with blood,
+and seemed to shrink back in their orbits, which formed, as it were,
+two dark holes, in the centre of which blazed points of fire; nervous
+convulsions drew the flabby, damp, and icy skin tight over the bony
+prominences of the face, which was becoming rapidly green. From the
+lips, writhing with pain, issued the struggling breath, mingled with the
+words: "Oh! I suffer! I burn!"
+
+Then, yielding to a transport of fury. Rodin tore with his nails his
+naked chest, for he had twisted off the buttons of his waistcoat, and
+rent his black and filthy shirt-front, as if the pressure of those
+garments augmented the violence of the pain under which he was writhing.
+The bishop, the cardinal, and Father d'Aigrigny, hastily approached
+Rodin, to try and hold him; he was seized with horrible convulsions;
+but, suddenly, collecting all his strength, he rose upon his feet stiff
+as a corpse. Then, with his garments in disorder, his thin, gray hair
+standing up all around his greenish face, fixing his red and flaming
+eyes upon the cardinal, he seized him with convulsive grasp, and
+exclaimed in a terrible voice, half stifled in his throat: "Cardinal
+Malipieri--this illness is too sudden--they suspect me at Rome--you
+are of the race of the Borgias--and your secretary was with me this
+morning!"
+
+"Unhappy man! what does he dare insinuate?" cried the prelate, as amazed
+as he was indignant at the accusation. So saying, the cardinal strove to
+free himself from the grasp of Rodin, whose fingers were now as stiff as
+iron.
+
+"I am poisoned!" muttered Rodin, and sinking back, he fell into the arms
+of Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+Notwithstanding his alarm, the cardinal had time to whisper to the
+latter: "He thinks himself poisoned. He must therefore be plotting
+something very dangerous."
+
+The door of the room opened. It was Dr. Baleinier.
+
+"Oh, doctor!" cried the princess, as she ran pale and frightened towards
+him; "Father Rodin has been suddenly attacked with terrible convulsions.
+Quick! quick!"
+
+"Convulsions? oh! it will be nothing, madame," said the doctor, throwing
+down his hat upon a chair, and hastily approaching the group which
+surrounded the sick man.
+
+"Here is the doctor!" cried the princess. All stepped aside, except
+Father d'Aigrigny, who continued to support Rodin, leaning against a
+chair.
+
+"Heavens! what symptoms!" cried Dr. Baleinier, examining with growing
+terror the countenance of Rodin, which from green was turning blue.
+
+"What is it?" asked all the spectators, with one voice.
+
+"What is it?" repeated the doctor, drawing back as if he had trodden
+upon a serpent. "It is the cholera! and contagious!"
+
+On this frightful, magic word, Father d'Aigrigny abandoned his hold of
+Rodin, who rolled upon the floor.
+
+"He is lost!" cried Dr. Baleinier. "But I will run to fetch the means
+for a last effort." And he rushed towards the door.
+
+The Princess de Saint-Dizier, Father d'Aigrigny, the bishop, and the
+cardinal followed in terror the flight of Dr. Baleinier. They all
+pressed to the door, which, in their consternation, they could not
+open. It opened at last but from without--and Gabriel appeared upon
+the threshold. Gabriel, the type of the true priest, the holy, the
+evangelical minister, to whom we can never pay enough of respect and
+ardent sympathy, and tender admiration. His angelic countenance, in its
+mild serenity, offered a striking contrast of these faces, all disturbed
+and contracted with terror.
+
+The young priest was nearly thrown down by the fugitives, who rushed
+through the now open doorway, exclaiming: "Do not go in! he is dying of
+the cholera. Fly!"
+
+On these words, pushing back the bishop, who, being the last, was
+trying to force a passage, Gabriel ran towards Rodin, while the prelate
+succeeded in making his escape. Rodin, stretched upon the carpet, his
+limbs twisted with fearful cramps, was writhing in the extremity
+of pain. The violence of his fall had, no doubt, roused him to
+consciousness, for he moaned, in a sepulchral voice: "They leave me to
+die--like a dog--the cowards!--Help!--no one--"
+
+And the dying man, rolling on his back with a convulsive movement,
+turned towards the ceiling a face on which was branded the infernal
+despair of the damned, as he once more repeated: "No one!--not one!"
+
+His eyes, which suddenly flamed with fury, just then met the large blue
+eyes of the angelic and mild countenance of Gabriel who, kneeling beside
+him, said to him, in his soft, grave tones: "I am here, father--to help
+you, if help be possible--to pray for you, if God calls you to him."
+
+"Gabriel!" murmured Rodin, with failing voice; "forgive me for the evil
+I have done you--do not leave me--do not--"
+
+Rodin could not finish; he had succeeded in raising himself into a
+sitting posture; he now uttered a loud cry, and fell back without sense
+or motion.
+
+The same day it was announced in the evening papers: "The cholera has
+broken out in Paris. The first case declared itself this day, at half
+past three, P.M. in the Rue de Babylone, at Saint-Dizier House."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE SQUARE OF NOTRE DAME.
+
+A week had passed since Rodin was seized with the cholera, and its
+ravages had continually increased. That was an awful time! A funeral
+pall was spread over Paris, once so gay. And yet, never had the sky been
+of a more settled, purer blue; never had the sun shone more brilliantly.
+The inexorable serenity of nature, during the ravages of the deadly
+scourge, offered a strange and mysterious contrast. The flaunting light
+of the dazzling sunshine fell full upon the features, contracted by a
+thousand agonizing fears. Each trembled for himself, or for those dear
+to him; every countenance was stamped with an expression of feverish
+astonishment and dread. People walked with rapid steps, as if they would
+escape from the fate which threatened them; besides, they were in haste
+to return to their homes, for often they left life, health, happiness,
+and, two hours later, they found agony, death, and despair.
+
+At every moment, new dismal objects met the view. Sometimes carts passed
+along, filled with coffins, symmetrically piled; they stopped before
+every house. Men in black and gray garments were in waiting before the
+door; they held out their hands, and to some, one coffin was thrown, to
+some two, frequently three or four, from the same house. It sometimes
+happened that the store was quickly exhausted, and the cart, which had
+arrived full, went away empty, whilst many of the dead in the street
+were still unserved. In nearly every dwelling, upstairs and down, from
+the roof to the cellar, there was a stunning tapping of hammers: coffins
+were being nailed down, and so many, so very many were nailed, that
+sometimes those who worked stopped from sheer fatigue. Then broke forth
+laments, heart-rending moans, despairing imprecations. They were uttered
+by those from whom the men in black and gray had taken some one to fill
+the coffins.
+
+Unceasingly were the coffins filled, and day and night did those men
+work, but by day more than by night, for, as soon as it was dusk, came
+a gloomy file of vehicles of all kinds--the usual hearses were not
+sufficient; but cars, carts, drays, hackney-coaches, and such like,
+swelled the funeral procession; different to the other conveyances,
+which entered the streets full and went away empty--these came empty but
+soon returned full. During that period, the windows of many houses were
+illuminated, and often the lights remained burning till the morning. It
+was "the season." These illuminations resembled the gleaming rays which
+shine in the gay haunts of pleasure; but there were tapers instead
+of wax candles, and the chanting of prayers for the dead replaced
+the murmur of the ball-room. In the streets, instead of the facetious
+transparencies which indicate the costumers, there swung at intervals
+huge lanterns of a blood-red color, with these words in black letters:
+"Assistance for those attacked with the cholera." The true places for
+revelry, during the night, were the churchyards; they ran riot--they,
+usually so desolate and silent, during the dark, quiet hours, when the
+cypress trees rustle in the breeze, so lonely, that no human step dared
+to disturb the solemn silence which reigned there at night, became on
+a sudden, animated, noisy, riotous, and resplendent with light. By
+the smoky flames of torches, which threw a red glare upon the dark
+fir-trees, and the white tombstones, many grave-diggers worked merrily,
+humming snatches of some favorite tune. Their laborious and hazardous
+industry then commanded a very high price; they were in such request
+that it was necessary to humor them. They drank often and much; they
+sang long and loud; and this to keep up their strength and spirits good,
+absolute requisites in such an employment. If, by chance, any did not
+finish the grave they had begun, some obliging comrade finished it for
+them (fitting expression!), and placed them in it with friendly care.
+
+Other distant sounds responded to the joyous strains of the grave
+diggers; public-houses had sprung up in the neighborhood of the
+churchyards, and the drivers of the dead, when they had "set down their
+customers," as they jocosely expressed themselves, enriched with their
+unusual gratuities, feasted and made merry like lords; dawn often found
+them with a glass in their hands, and a jest on their lips; and, strange
+to say, among these funeral satellites, who breathed the very atmosphere
+of the disease, the mortality was scarcely perceptible. In the
+dark, squalid quarters of the town, where, surrounded by infectious
+exhalations, the indigent population was crowded together, and miserable
+beings, exhausted by severe privation, were "bespoke" by the cholera, as
+it was energetically said at the time, not only individuals, but whole
+families, were carried off in a few hours; and yet, sometimes, oh,
+merciful Providence! one or two little children were left in the cold
+and empty room, after the father and mother, brother and sister, had
+been taken away in their shells.
+
+Frequently, houses which had swarmed with hard working laborers, were
+obliged to be shut up for want of tenants; in one day, they had been
+completely cleared by this terrible visitation, from the cellars, where
+little chimney-sweepers slept upon straw, to the garret, on whose cold
+brick floor lay stretched some wan and half-naked being, without work
+and without bread. But, of all the wards of Paris, that which perhaps
+presented the most frightful spectacle during the progress of the
+cholera, was the City; and in the City, the square before the cathedral
+of Notre-Dame was almost every day the theatre of dreadful scenes: for
+this locality was frequently thronged with those who conveyed the sick
+from the neighboring streets to the Great Hospital. The cholera had
+not one aspect, but a thousand. So that one week after Rodin had
+been suddenly attacked, several events combining the horrible and the
+grotesque occurred in the square of Notre Dame.
+
+Instead of the Rue d'Arcole, which now leads directly to the square, it
+was then approached on one side, by a mean, narrow lane, like all the
+other streets of the City, and terminating in a dark, low archway. Upon
+entering the square the principal door of the huge Cathedral was to the
+left of the spectator, and facing him were the Hospital buildings.
+A little beyond, was an opening which gave to view a portion of the
+parapet of the Quay Notre-Dame. A placard had been recently stuck on
+the discolored and sunken wail of the archway; it contained these words,
+traced in large characters.(37)
+
+"VENGEANCE! VENGEANCE!
+
+"The Working-men carried to the hospitals are poisoned, because the
+number of patients is too great; every night, Boats filled with corpses,
+drop down the Seine.
+
+"Vengeance and Death to the murderers of the People!"
+
+Two men, enveloped in cloaks, and half-hidden in the deep shadow of the
+vault, were listening with anxious curiosity to the threatening murmur,
+which rose with increasing force from among a tumultuous assembly,
+grouped around the Hospital. Soon, cries of "Death to the
+doctors!--Vengeance!" reached the ears of the persons who were in ambush
+under the arch.
+
+"The posters are working," said one; "the train is on fire. When once
+the populace is roused, we can set them on whom we please."
+
+"I say," replied the other man, "look over there. That Hercules, whose
+athletic form towers above the mob, was cue of the most frantic leaders
+when M. Hardy's factory was destroyed."
+
+"To be sure he was; I know him again. Wherever mischief is to be done,
+you are sure to find those vagabonds.
+
+"Now, take my advice, do not let us remain under this archway," said
+the other man; "the wind is as cold as ice, and though I am cased in
+flannel--"
+
+"You are right, the cholera is confoundedly impolite. Besides,
+everything is going on well here; I am likewise assured that the whole
+of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine is ready to rise in the republican cause;
+that will serve our ends, and our holy religion will triumph over
+revolutionary impiety. Let us rejoin Father d'Aigrigny."
+
+"Where shall we find him?"
+
+"Near here, come--come."
+
+The two hastily disappeared.
+
+The sun, beginning to decline, shed its golden rays upon the blackened
+sculptures of the porch of Notre-Dame, and upon its two massy towers,
+rising in imposing majesty against a perfectly blue sky, for during
+the fast few days, a north-east wind, dry and cold, had driven away
+the lightest cloud. A considerable number of people, as we have already
+stated, obstructed the approach to the Hospital; they crowded round the
+iron railings that protect the front of the building, behind which was
+stationed a detachment of infantry, the cries of "Death to the doctors!"
+becoming every moment more threatening. The people who thus vociferated.
+belonged to an idle, vagabond, and depraved populace--the dregs of the
+Paris mob; and (terrible spectacle!) the unfortunate beings who were
+forcibly carried through the midst of these hideous groups entered the
+Hospital, whilst the air resounded with hoarse clamors, and cries of
+"Death." Every moment, fresh victims were brought along in litters,
+and on stretchers; the litters were frequently furnished with coarse
+curtains, and thus the sick occupants were concealed from the public
+gaze; but the stretchers, having no covering, the convulsive movements
+of the dying patients often thrust aside the sheet, and exposed to
+view their faces, livid as corpses. Far from inspiring with terror the
+wretches assembled round the Hospital, such spectacles became to them
+the signal for savage jests, and atrocious predictions upon the fate of
+these poor creatures, when once in the power of the doctors.
+
+The big blaster and Ciboule, with a good many of their adherents, were
+among the mob. After the destruction of Hardy's factory, the quarryman
+was formally expelled from the union of the Wolves, who would have
+nothing more to do with this wretch; since then, he had plunged into
+the grossest debauchery, and speculating on his herculean strength, had
+hired himself as the officious champion of Ciboule and her compeers.
+With the exception therefore of some chance passengers, the square of
+Notre-Dame was filled with a ragged crowd, composed of the refuse of
+the Parisian populace--wretches who call for pity as well as blame;
+for misery, ignorance, and destitution, beget but too fatally vice and
+crime. These savages of civilization felt neither pity, improvement, nor
+terror, at the shocking sights with which they were surrounded; careless
+of a life which was a daily struggle against hunger, or the allurements
+of guilt, they braved the pestilence with infernal audacity, or sank
+under it with blasphemy on their lips.
+
+The tall form of the quarryman was conspicuous amongst the rest; with
+inflamed eyes and swollen features, he yelled at the top of his voice:
+"Death to the body-snatchers! they poison the people."
+
+"That is easier than to feed them," added Ciboule. Then, addressing
+herself to an old man, who was being carried with great difficulty
+through the dense crowd, upon a chair, by two men, the hag continued:
+"Hey? don't go in there, old croaker; die here in the open air instead
+of dying in that den, where you'll be doctored like an old rat."
+
+"Yes," added the quarryman; "and then they'll throw you into the water
+to feast the fishes, which you won't swallow any more."
+
+At these atrocious cries, the old man looked wildly around, and uttered
+faint groans. Ciboule wished to stop the persons who were carrying him,
+and they had much difficulty in getting rid of the hag. The number
+of cholera-patients arriving increased every moment, and soon neither
+litters nor stretchers could be obtained, so that they were borne along
+in the arms of the attendants. Several awful episodes bore witness
+to the startling rapidity of the infection. Two men were carrying a
+stretcher covered with a blood-stained sheet; one of them suddenly felt
+himself attacked with the complaint; he stopped short, his powerless
+arms let go the stretcher; he turned pale, staggered, fell upon the
+patient, becoming as livid as him; the other man, struck with terror,
+fled precipitately, leaving his companion and the dying man in the
+midst of the crowd. Some drew back in horror, others burst into a savage
+laugh.
+
+"The horses have taken fright," said the quarryman, "and have left the
+turn-out in the lurch."
+
+"Help!" cried the dying man, with a despairing accent; "for pity's sake
+take me in."
+
+"There's no more room in the pit," said one, in a jeering tone.
+
+"And you've no legs left to reach the gallery," added another.
+
+The sick man made an effort to rise; but his strength failed him; he
+fell back exhausted on the mattress. A sudden movement took place among
+the crowd, the stretcher was overturned, the old man and his companion
+were trodden underfoot, and their groans were drowned in the cries of
+"Death to the body-snatchers!" The yells were renewed with fresh fury,
+but the ferocious band, who respected nothing in their savage fury,
+were soon after obliged to open their ranks to several workmen, who
+vigorously cleared the way for two of their friends carrying in their
+arms a poor artisan. He was still young, but his heavy and already
+livid head hung down upon the shoulder of one of them. A little child
+followed, sobbing, and holding by one of the workmen's coats. The
+measured and sonorous sound of several drums was now heard at a distance
+in the winding streets of the city: they were beating the call to
+arms, for sedition was rife in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. The drummers
+emerged from under the archway, and were traversing the square, when one
+of them, a gray-haired veteran, suddenly slackened the rolling of his
+drum, and stood still: his companions turned round in surprise--he had
+turned green; his legs gave way, he stammered some unintelligible words,
+and had fallen upon the pavement before those in the front rank had time
+to pause. The overwhelming rapidity of this attack startled for a moment
+the most hardened among the surrounding spectators; for, wondering at
+the interruption, a part of the crowd had rushed towards the soldiers.
+
+At sight of the dying man, supported in the arms of two of his comrades,
+one of the individuals, who, concealed under the arch, had watched the
+beginning of the popular excitement, said to the drummers: "Your comrade
+drank, perhaps, at some fountain on the road?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied one; "he was very thirsty; he drank two mouthfuls of
+water on the Place du Chatelet."
+
+"Then he is poisoned," said the man.
+
+"Poisoned?" cried several voices.
+
+"It is not surprising," replied the man, in a mysterious tone; "poison
+is thrown into the public fountains; and this very morning a man was
+massacred in the Rue Beaubourg who was discovered emptying a paper of
+arsenic into a pot of wine at a public-house."(38)
+
+Having said these words, the man disappeared in the crowd. This report,
+no less absurd than the tales about the poisoning of the Hospital
+patients, was received with a general burst of indignation. Five or
+six ragged beings, regular ruffians, seized the body of the expiring
+drummer, hoisted it upon their shoulders, in spite of all the efforts
+of his comrades to prevent them, and paraded the square exhibiting the
+dismal trophy. Ciboule and the quarryman went before, crying: "Wake way
+for the corpse! This is how they poison the people!"
+
+A fresh incident now attracted the attention of the crowd. A travelling
+carriage, which had not been able to pass along the Quai-Napoleon, the
+pavement of which was up, had ventured among the intricate streets of
+the city, and now arrived in the square of Notre-Dame on its way to the
+other side of the Seine. Like many others, its owners were flying from
+Paris, to escape the pestilence which decimated it. A man-servant and a
+lady's maid were in the rumble, and they exchanged a glance of alarm as
+they passed the Hospital, whilst a young man seated in the front part
+of the carriage let down the glass, and called to the postilions to go
+slowly, for fear of accident, as the crowd was very dense at that part
+of the square. This young man was Lord Morinval, and on the back seat
+were Lord Montbron and his niece, Lady Morinval. The pale and anxious
+countenance of the young lady showed the alarm which she felt; and
+Montbron, notwithstanding his firmness of mind, appeared to be
+very uneasy; he, as well as his niece, frequently had recourse to a
+smelling-bottle filled with camphor.
+
+During the last few minutes, the carriage had advanced very slowly,
+the postilions managing their horses with great caution, when a sudden
+hubbub, at first distant and undefined, but soon more distinct, arose
+among the throng, as it drew near, the ringing sound of chains and
+metal, peculiar to the artillery-wagons, was plainly audible, and
+presently one of these vehicles came towards the travelling-carriage,
+from the direction of the Quai Notre-Dame. It seemed strange, that
+though the crowd was so compact, yet at the rapid approach of this
+wagon, the close ranks of human beings opened as if by enchantment, but
+the following words which were passed from mouth to mouth soon accounted
+for the prodigy: "A wagon full of dead! the wagon of the dead!" As
+we have already stated, the usual funeral conveyances were no longer
+sufficient for the removal of the corpses; a number of artillery wagons
+had been put into requisition, and the coffins were hastily piled in
+these novel hearses.
+
+Many of the spectators regarded this gloomy vehicle with dismay, but the
+quarryman and his band redoubled their horrible jokes.
+
+"Make way for the omnibus of the departed!" cried Ciboule.
+
+"No danger of having one's toes crushed in that omnibus," said the
+quarryman.
+
+"Doubtless they're easy to please, the stiff-uns in there."
+
+"They never want to be set down, at all events."
+
+"I say, there's only one reg'lar on duty as postilion!"
+
+"That's true, the leaders are driven by a man in a smock-frock."
+
+"Oh! I daresay the other soldier was tired, lazy fellow! and got into
+the omnibus with the others--they'll all get out at the same big hole."
+
+"Head foremost, you know."
+
+"Yes, they pitch them head first into a bed of lime."
+
+"Why, one might follow the dead-cart blind-fold, and no mistake. It's
+worse than Montfaucon knacker-yards!"
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--it's rather gamey!" said the quarryman, alluding to the
+infectious and cadaverous odor which this funeral conveyance left behind
+it.
+
+"Here's sport!" exclaimed Ciboule: "the omnibus of the dead will run
+against the fine coach. Hurrah! the rich folks will smell death."
+
+Indeed, the wagon was now directly in front of the carriage, and at a
+very little distance from it. A man in a smock-frock and wooden shoes
+drove the two leaders, and an artilleryman the other horses. The coffins
+were so piled up within this wagon, that its semicircular top did
+not shut down closely, so that, as it jolted heavily over the uneven
+pavement, the biers could be seen chafing against each other. The fiery
+eyes and inflamed countenance of the man in the smock-frock showed that
+he was half intoxicated; urging on the horses with his voice, his heels,
+and his whip, he paid no attention to the remonstrances of the soldier,
+who had great difficulty in restraining his own animals, and was obliged
+to follow the irregular movements of the carman. Advancing in this
+disorderly manner, the wagon deviated from its course just as it should
+have passed the travelling-carriage, and ran against it. The shock
+forced open the top, one of the coffins was thrown out, and, after
+damaging the panels of the carriage, fell upon the pavement with a dull
+and heavy sound. The deal planks had been hastily nailed together, and
+were shivered in the fall, and from the wreck of the coffin rolled a
+livid corpse, half enveloped in a shroud.
+
+At this horrible spectacle, Lady Morinval, who had mechanically leaned
+forward, gave a loud scream, and fainted. The crowd fell back in dismay;
+the postilions, no less alarmed, took advantage of the space left open
+to them by the retreat of the multitude; they whipped their horses, and
+the carriage dashed on towards the quay. As it disappeared behind
+the furthermost buildings of the Hospital, the shrill joyous notes
+of distant trumpets were heard, and repeated shouts proclaimed: "The
+Cholera Masquerade!" The words announced one of those episodes combining
+buffoonery with terror, which marked the period when the pestilence was
+on the increase, though now they can with difficulty be credited. If
+the evidence of eyewitnesses did not agree in every particular with the
+accounts given in the public papers of this masquerade, they might be
+regarded as the ravings of some diseased brain, and not as the notice of
+a fact which really occurred.
+
+"The Masquerade of the Cholera" appeared, we say, in the square of Notre
+Dame, just as Morinval's carriage gained the quay, after disengaging
+itself from the death-wagon.
+
+(37) It is well-known that at the time of the cholera, such placards
+were numerous in Paris, and were alternately attributed to opposite
+parties. Among others, to the priests, many of the bishops having
+published mandatory letters, or stated openly in the churches of their
+diocese, that the Almighty had sent the cholera as a punishment to
+France for having driven away its lawful sovereign, and assimilated the
+Catholic to other forms of worship.
+
+(38) It is notorious, that at this unhappy period several persons were
+massacred, under a false accusation of poisoning the fountains, etc.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. THE CHOLERA MASQUERADE.(39)
+
+A stream of people, who preceded the masquerade, made a sudden irruption
+through the arch into the square, uttering loud cheers as they advanced.
+Children were also there, blowing horns, whilst some hooted and others
+hissed.
+
+The quarryman, Ciboule, and their band, attracted by this new spectacle,
+rushed tumultuously towards the arch. Instead of the two eating-houses,
+which now (1845) stand on either side of the Rue d'Arcole, there was
+then only one, situated to the left of the vaulted passage, and much
+celebrated amongst the joyous community of students, for the excellence
+both of its cookery and its wines. At the first blare of the trumpets,
+sounded by the outriders in livery who preceded the masquerade, the
+windows of the great room of the eating-house were thrown open, and
+several waiters, with their napkins under their arms, leaned forward,
+impatient to witness the arrival of the singular guests they were
+expecting.
+
+At length, the grotesque procession made its appearance in the thick of
+an immense uproar. The train comprised a chariot, escorted by men and
+women on horseback, clad in rich and elegant fancy dresses. Most of
+these maskers belonged to the middle and easy classes of society. The
+report had spread that masquerade was in preparation, for the purpose
+of daring the cholera, and, by this joyous demonstration, to revive
+the courage of the affrighted populace. Immediately, artists, young men
+about town, students, and so on, responded to the appeal, and though
+till now unknown one to the other, they easily fraternized together.
+Many brought their mistresses, to complete the show. A subscription had
+been opened to defray the expenses, and, that morning, after a splendid
+breakfast at the other end of Paris, the joyous troop had started
+bravely on their march, to finish the day by a dinner in the square of
+Notre Dame.
+
+We say bravely, for it required a singular turn of mind, a rare firmness
+of character, in young women, to traverse, in this fashion, a great
+city plunged in consternation and terror--to fall in at every step with
+litters loaded with the dying, and carriages filled with the dead--to
+defy, as it were, in a spirit of strange pleasantry, the plague that was
+detonating the Parisians. It is certain that, in Paris alone, and
+there only amongst a peculiar class, could such an idea have ever been
+conceived or realized. Two men, grotesquely disguised as postilions at
+a funeral, with formidable false noses, rose-colored crape hat-bands and
+large favors of roses and crape bows at their buttonholes, rode before
+the vehicle. Upon the platform of the car were groups of allegorical
+personages, representing WINE, PLEASURE, LOVE, PLAY. The mission of
+these symbolical beings was, by means of jokes, sarcasms, and mockeries,
+to plague the life out of Goodman Cholera, a sort of funeral and
+burlesque Cassander, whom they ridiculed and made game of in a hundred
+ways. The moral of the play was this: "To brave Cholera in security, let
+us drink, laugh, game, and make love!"
+
+WINE was represented by a huge, lusty Silenus, thick-set, and with
+swollen paunch, a crown of ivy on his brow, a panther's skin across his
+shoulder, and in his hand a large gilt goblet, wreathed with flowers.
+None other than Ninny Moulin, the famous moral and religious writer,
+could have exhibited to the astonished and delighted spectators an
+ear of so deep a scarlet, so majestic an abdomen, and a face of such
+triumphant and majestic fulness. Every moment, Ninny Moulin appeared to
+empty his cup--after which he burst out laughing in the face of Goodman
+Cholera. Goodman Cholera, a cadaverous pantaloon, was half-enveloped in
+a shroud; his mask of greenish cardboard, with red, hollow eyes, seemed
+every moment to grin as in mockery of death; from beneath his powdered
+peruke, surmounted by a pyramidical cotton night-cap, appeared his neck
+and arm, dyed of a bright green color; his lean hand, which shook almost
+always with a feverish trembling (not feigned, but natural), rested upon
+a crutch-handled cane; finally, as was becoming in a pantaloon, he wore
+red stockings, with buckles at the knees, and high slippers of black
+beaver. This grotesque representative of the cholera was Sleepinbuff.
+
+Notwithstanding a slow and dangerous fever, caused by the excessive use
+of brandy, and by constant debauchery, that was silently undermining his
+constitution, Jacques Rennepont had been induced by Morok to join the
+masquerade. The brute-tamer himself, dressed as the King of Diamonds,
+represented PLAY. His forehead was adorned with a diadem of gilded
+paper, his face was pale and impassible, and as his long, yellow beard
+fell down the front of his parti-colored robe, Morok looked exactly
+the character he personated. From time to time, with an air of grave
+mockery, he shook close to the eyes of Goodman Cholera a large bag full
+of sounding counters, and on this bag were painted all sorts of playing
+cards. A certain stiffness in the right arm showed that the lion-tamer
+had not yet quite recovered from the effects of the wound which the
+panther had inflicted before being stabbed by Djalma.
+
+PLEASURE, who also represented Laughter, classically shook her rattle,
+with its sonorous gilded bells, close to the ears of Goodman Cholera.
+She was a quick, lively young girl, and her fine black hair was crowned
+with a scarlet cap of liberty. For Sleepinbuff's sake, she had taken the
+place of the poor Bacchanal queen, who would not have failed to attend
+on such an occasion--she, who had been so valiant and gay, when she
+bore her part in a less philosophical, but not less amusing masquerade.
+Another pretty creature, Modeste Bornichoux, who served as a model to
+a painter of renown (one of the cavaliers of the procession), was
+eminently successful in her representation of LOVE. He could not have
+had a more charming face, and more graceful form. Clad in a light blue
+spangled tunic, with a blue and silver band across her chestnut hair,
+and little transparent wings affixed to her white shoulders, she
+placed one forefinger upon the other, and pointed with the prettiest
+impertinence at Goodman Cholera. Around the principal group, other
+maskers, more or less grotesque in appearance, waved each a banner, an
+which were inscriptions of a very anacreontic character, considering the
+circumstances:
+
+"Down with the Cholera!" "Short and sweet!" "Laugh away, laugh always!"
+"We'll collar the Cholera!" "Love forever!" "Wine forever!" "Come if you
+dare, old terror!"
+
+There was really such audacious gayety in this masquerade, that the
+greater number of the spectators, at the moment when it crossed the
+square, in the direction of the eating-house, where dinner was waiting,
+applauded it loudly and repeatedly. This sort of admiration, which
+courage, however mad and blind, almost always inspires, appeared to
+others (a small number, it must be confessed) a kind of defiance to the
+wrath of heaven; and these received the procession with angry murmurs.
+This extraordinary spectacle, and the different impressions it
+produced, were too remote from all customary facts to admit of a just
+appreciation. We hardly know if this daring bravado was deserving of
+praise or blame.
+
+Besides, the appearance of those plagues, which from age to age decimate
+the population of whole countries, has almost always been accompanied by
+a sort of mental excitement, which none of those who have been spared
+by the contagion can hope to escape. It is a strange fever of the mind,
+which sometimes rouses the most stupid prejudices and the most ferocious
+passions, and sometimes inspires, on the contrary, the most magnificent
+devotion, the most courageous actions--with some, driving the fear
+of death to a point of the wildest terror--with others, exciting the
+contempt of life to express itself in the most audacious bravadoes.
+Caring little for the praise or blame it might deserve, the masquerade
+arrived before the eating-house, and made its entry in the midst of
+universal acclamations. Everything seemed to combine to give full effect
+to this strange scene, by the opposition of the most singular contrasts.
+Thus the tavern, in which was to be held this extraordinary feast, being
+situated at no great distance from the antique cathedral, and the gloomy
+hospital, the religious anthems of the ancient temple, the cries of the
+dying, and the bacchanalian songs of the banqueteers, must needs mingle,
+and by turns drown one another. The maskers now got down from their
+chariot, and from their horses, and went to take their places at the
+repast, which was waiting for them. The actors in the masquerade are
+at table in the great room of the tavern. They are joyous, noisy, even
+riotous. Yet their gayety has a strange tone, peculiar to itself.
+
+Sometimes, the most resolute involuntarily remember that their life is
+at stake in this mad and audacious game with destiny. That fatal thought
+is rapid as the icy fever-shudder, which chills you in an instant;
+therefore, from time to time, an abrupt silence, lasting indeed only for
+a second, betrays these passing emotions which are almost immediately
+effaced by new bursts of joyful acclamation, for each one says to
+himself: "No weakness! my chum and my girl are looking at me!"
+
+And all laugh, and knock glasses together, and challenge the next man,
+and drink out of the glass of the nearest woman. Jacques had taken off
+the mask and peruke of Goodman Cholera. His thin, leaden features, his
+deadly paleness, the lurid brilliancy of his hollow eyes, showed
+the incessant progress of the slow malady which was consuming this
+unfortunate man, brought by excesses to the last extremity of weakness.
+Though he felt the slow fire devouring his entrails, he concealed his
+pain beneath a forced and nervous smile.
+
+To the left of Jacques was Morok, whose fatal influence was ever on the
+increase, and to his right the girl disguised as PLEASURE. She was named
+Mariette. By her side sat Ninny Moulin, in all his majestic bulk, who
+often pretended to be looking for his napkin under the table, in order
+to have the opportunity of pressing the knees of his other neighbor,
+Modeste, the representative of LOVE. Most of the guests were grouped
+according to their several tastes, each tender pair together, and the
+bachelors where they could. They had reached the second course, and the
+excellence of the wine, the good cheer, the gay speeches, and even the
+singularity of the occasion, had raised their spirits to a high degree
+of excitement, as may be gathered from the extraordinary incidents of
+the following scene.
+
+(39) We read in the Constitutionnel, Saturday March 31st, 1832: "The
+Parisians readily conform to that part of the official instructions
+with regard to the cholera, which prescribes, as a preservation from the
+disease, not to be afraid, to amuse one's self, etc. The pleasures of
+Mid-Lent have been as brilliant and as mad as those of the carnival
+itself. For a long time past there had not been so many balls at this
+period of the year. Even the cholera has been made the subject of an
+itinerant caricature."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE DEFIANCE.
+
+Two or three times, without being remarked by the guests, one of the
+waiters had come to whisper to his fellows, and point with expressive
+gesture to the ceiling. But his comrades had taken small account of his
+observations or fears, not wishing, doubtless, to disturb the guests,
+whose mad gayety seemed ever on the increase.
+
+"Who can doubt now of the superiority of our manner of treating this
+impertinent Cholera? Has he dared even to touch our sacred battalion?"
+said a magnificent mountebank-Turk, one of the standard-bearers of the
+masquerade.
+
+"Here is all the mystery," answered another. "It is very simple. Only
+laugh in the face of the plague, and it will run away from you."
+
+"And right enough too, for very stupid work it does," added a pretty
+little Columbine, emptying her glass.
+
+"You are right, my darling; it is intolerably stupid work," answered
+the Clown belonging to the Columbine; "here you are very quiet, enjoying
+life, and all on a sudden you die with an atrocious grimace. Well! what
+then? Clever, isn't it? I ask you, what does it prove?"
+
+"It proves," replied an illustrious painter of the romantic school,
+disguised like a Roman out of one of David's pictures, "it proves that
+the Cholera is a wretched colorist, for he has nothing but a dirty
+green on his pallet. Evidently he is a pupil of Jacobus, that king of
+classical painters, who are another species of plagues."
+
+"And yet, master," added respectfully a pupil of the great painter, "I
+have seen some cholera patients whose convulsions were rather fine, and
+their dying looks first-rate!"
+
+"Gentlemen," cried a sculptor of no less celebrity, "the question
+lies in a nutshell. The Cholera is a detestable colorist, but a good
+draughtsman. He shows you the skeleton in no time. By heaven! how he
+strips off the flesh!--Michael Angelo would be nothing to him."
+
+"True," cried they all, with one voice; "the Cholera is a bad colorist,
+but a good draughtsman."
+
+"Moreover, gentlemen," added Ninny Moulin, with comic gravity, "this
+plague brings with it a providential lesson, as the great Bossuet would
+have said."
+
+"The lesson! the lesson!"
+
+"Yes, gentlemen; I seem to hear a voice from above, proclaiming: 'Drink
+of the best, empty your purse, and kiss your neighbor's wife; for your
+hours are perhaps numbered, unhappy wretch!'"
+
+So saying, the orthodox Silenus took advantage of a momentary absence
+of mind on the part of Modeste, his neighbor, to imprint on the blooming
+cheek of LOVE a long, loud kiss. The example was contagious, and a storm
+of kisses was mingled with bursts of laughter.
+
+"Ha! blood and thunder!" cried the great painter as he gayly threatened
+Ninny Moulin; "you are very lucky that to-morrow will perhaps be the end
+of the world, or else I should pick a quarrel with you for having kissed
+my lovely LOVE."
+
+"Which proves to you, O Rubens! O Raphael! the thousand advantages of
+the Cholera, whom I declare to be essentially sociable and caressing."
+
+"And philanthropic," said one of the guests; "thanks to him, creditors
+take care of the health of their debtors. This morning a usurer, who
+feels a particular interest in my existence, brought me all sorts of
+anti-choleraic drugs, and begged me to make use of them."
+
+"And I!" said the pupil of the great painter. "My tailor wished to force
+me to wear a flannel band next to the skin, because I owe him a thousand
+crowns. But I answered 'Oh, tailor, give me a receipt in full, and I
+will wrap myself up in flannel, to preserve you my custom!'"
+
+"O Cholera, I drink to thee!" said Ninny Moulin, by way of grotesque
+invocation. "You are not Despair; on the contrary, you are the emblem
+of Hope--yes, of hope. How many husbands, how many wives, longed for
+a number (alas! too uncertain chance) in the lottery of widowhood! You
+appear, and their hearts are gladdened. Thanks to you, benevolent pest!
+their chances of liberty are increased a hundredfold."
+
+"And how grateful heirs ought to be! A cold--a heat--a trifle--and
+there, in an hour, some old uncle becomes a revered benefactor!"
+
+"And those who are always looking out for other people's places--what an
+ally they must find in the Cholera!"
+
+"And how true it will make many vows of constancy!" said Modeste,
+sentimentally. "How many villains have sworn to a poor, weak woman, to
+love her all their lives, who never meant (the wretches!) to keep their
+word so well!"
+
+"Gentlemen," cried Ninny Moulin, "since we are now, perhaps, at the eve
+of the end of the world, as yonder celebrated painter has expressed
+it, I propose to play the world topsy-turvy: I beg these ladies to make
+advances to us, to tease us, to excite us, to steal kisses from us, to
+take all sorts of liberties with us, and (we shall not die of it) even
+to insult us. Yes, I declare that I will allow myself to be insulted.
+So, LOVE, you may offer me the greatest insult that can be offered to a
+virtuous and modest bachelor," added the religious writer, leaning over
+towards his neighbor, who repulsed him with peals of laughter; and the
+proposal of Ninny Moulin being received with general hilarity, a new
+impulse was given to the mirth and riot.
+
+In the midst of the uproar, the waiter, who had before entered the room
+several times, to whisper uneasily to his comrades, whilst he pointed
+to the ceiling, again appeared with a pale and agitated countenance;
+approaching the man who performed the office of butler, he said to him,
+in a low voice, tremulous with emotion: "They are come!"
+
+"Who?"
+
+"You know--up there"; and he pointed to the ceiling.
+
+"Oh!" said the butler, becoming thoughtful; "where are they?"
+
+"They have just gone upstairs; they are there now," answered the waiter,
+shaking his head with an air of alarm; "yes, they are there!"
+
+"What does master say?"
+
+"He is very vexed, because--" and the waiter glanced round at the
+guests. "He does not know what to do; he has sent me to you."
+
+"What the devil have I to do with it?" said the other; wiping his
+forehead. "It was to be expected, and cannot be helped."
+
+"I will not remain here till they begin."
+
+"You may as well go, for your long face already attracts attention. Tell
+master we must wait for the upshot."
+
+The above incident was scarcely perceived in the midst of the growing
+tumult of the joyous feast. But, among the guests, one alone laughed
+not, drank not. This was Jacques. With fixed and lurid eye, he gazed
+upon vacancy. A stranger to what was passing around him, the unhappy man
+thought of the Bacchanal Queen, who had been so gay and brilliant in the
+midst of similar saturnalia. The remembrance of that one being, whom
+he still loved with an extravagant love, was the only thought that from
+time to time roused him from his besotted state.
+
+It is strange, but Jacques had only consented to join this masquerade
+because the mad scene reminded him of the merry day he had spent with
+Cephyse--that famous breakfast, after a night of dancing, in which the
+Bacchanal Queen, from some extraordinary presentiment, had proposed a
+lugubrious toast with regard to this very pestilence, which was then
+reported to be approaching France. "To the Cholera!" had she said. "Let
+him spare those who wish to live, and kill at the same moment those who
+dread to part!"
+
+And now, at this time, remembering those mournful words, Jacques was
+absorbed in painful thought. Morok perceived his absence of mind, and
+said aloud to him, "You have given over drinking, Jacques. Have you had
+enough wine? Then you will want brandy. I will send for some."
+
+"I want neither wine nor brandy," answered Jacques, abruptly, and he
+fell back into a sombre reverie.
+
+"Well, you may be right," resumed Morok, in a sardonic tone, and raising
+his voice still higher. "You do well to take care of yourself. I was
+wrong to name brandy in these times. There would be as much temerity in
+facing a bottle of brandy as the barrel of a loaded pistol."
+
+On hearing his courage as a toper called in question, Sleepinbuff looked
+angrily at Morok. "You think it is from cowardice that I will not drink
+brandy!" cried the unfortunate man, whose half-extinguished intellect
+was roused to defend what he called his dignity. "Is it from cowardice
+that I refuse, d'ye think, Morok? Answer me!"
+
+"Come, my good fellow, we have all shown our pluck today," said one of
+the guests to Jacques; "you, above all, who, being rather indisposed,
+yet had the courage to take the part of Goodman Cholera."
+
+"Gentlemen," resumed Morok, seeing the general attention fixed upon
+himself and Sleepinbuff, "I was only joking; for if my comrade (pointing
+to Jacques) had the imprudence to accept my offer, it would be an act,
+not of courage, but of foolhardiness. Luckily, he has sense enough to
+renounce a piece of boasting so dangerous at this time, and I--"
+
+"Waiter!" cried Jacques, interrupting Morok with angry impatience, "two
+bottles of brandy, and two glasses!"
+
+"What are you going to do?" said Morok, with pretended uneasiness. "Why
+do you order two bottles of brandy?"
+
+"For a duel," said Jacques, in a cool, resolute tone.
+
+"A duel!" cried the spectators, in surprise.
+
+"Yes," resumed Jacques, "a duel with brandy. You pretend there is as
+much danger in facing a bottle of brandy as a loaded pistol; let us each
+take a full bottle, and see who will be the first to cry quarter."
+
+This strange proposition was received by some with shouts of joy, and by
+others with genuine uneasiness.
+
+"Bravo! the champions of the bottle!" cried the first.
+
+"No, no; there would be too much danger in such a contest," said the
+others.
+
+"Just now," added one of the guests; "this challenge is as serious as an
+invitation to fight to the death."
+
+"You hear," said Morok, with a diabolical smile, "you hear, Jacques?
+Will you now retreat before the danger?"
+
+At these words, which reminded him of the peril to which he was about
+to expose himself, Jacques started, as if a sudden idea had occurred to
+him. He raised his head proudly, his cheeks were slightly flushed, his
+eye shone with a kind of gloomy satisfaction, and he exclaimed in a firm
+voice: "Hang it, waiter! are you deaf? I asked you for two bottles of
+brandy."
+
+"Yes, sir," said the waiter, going to fetch them, although himself
+frightened at what might be the result of this bacchanalian struggle.
+But the mad and perilous resolution of Jacques was applauded by the
+majority.
+
+Ninny Moulin moved about on his chair, stamped his feet, and shouted
+with all his might: "Bacchus and drink! bottles and glasses! the throats
+are dry! brandy to the rescue! Largess! largess!"
+
+And, like a true champion of the tournament, he embraced Modeste,
+adding, to excuse the liberty: "Love, you shall be the Queen of Beauty,
+and I am only anticipating the victor's happiness!"
+
+"Brandy to the rescue!" repeated they all, in chorus. "Largess!"
+
+"Gentlemen," added Ninny Moulin, with enthusiasm, "shall we remain
+indifferent to the noble example set us by Goodman Cholera? He said in
+his pride, 'brandy!' Let us gloriously answer, 'punch!'"
+
+"Yes, yes! punch!"
+
+"Punch to the rescue!"
+
+"Waiter!" shouted the religious writer, with the voice of a Stentor,
+"waiter! have you a pan, a caldron, a hogshead, or any other immensity,
+in which we can brew a monster punch?"
+
+"A Babylonian punch!"
+
+"A lake of punch!"
+
+"An ocean of punch!"
+
+Such was the ambitious crescendo that followed the proposition of Ninny
+Moulin.
+
+"Sir," answered the waiter, with an air of triumph, "we just happen to
+have a large copper caldron, quite new. It has been used, and would hold
+at least thirty bottles."
+
+"Bring the caldron!" said Ninny Moulin, majestically.
+
+"The caldron forever!" shouted the chorus.
+
+"Put in twenty bottles of brandy, six loaves of sugar, a dozen lemons, a
+pound of cinnamon, and then--fire! fire!" shouted the religious writer,
+with the most vociferous exclamations.
+
+"Yes, yes! fire!" repeated the chorus!
+
+The proposition of Ninny Moulin gave a new impetus to the general
+gayety; the most extravagant remarks were mingled with the sound of
+kisses, taken or given under the pretext that perhaps there would be
+no to-morrow, that one must make the most of the present, etc., etc.
+Suddenly, in one of the moments of silence which sometimes occur in the
+midst of the greatest tumult, a succession of slow and measured taps
+sounded above the ceiling of the banqueting-room. All remained silent,
+and listened.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. BRANDY TO THE RESCUE.
+
+After the lapse of some seconds, the singular rapping which had so much
+surprised the guests, was again heard, but this time louder and longer.
+
+"Waiter!" cried one of the party, "what in the devil's name is
+knocking?"
+
+The waiter, exchanging with his comrades a look of uneasiness and alarm,
+stammered Out in reply: "Sir--it is--it is--"
+
+"Well! I suppose it is some crabbed, cross-grained lodger, some animal,
+the enemy of joy, who is pounding on the floor of his room to warn us to
+sing less loud," said Ninny Moulin.
+
+"Then, by a general rule," answered sententiously the pupil of the great
+painter, "if lodger or landlord ask for silence, tradition bids us reply
+by an infernal uproar, destined to drown all his remonstrances. Such, at
+least," added the scapegrace, modestly, "are the foreign relations that
+I have always seen observed between neighboring powers."
+
+This remark was received with general laughter and applause. During the
+tumult, Morok questioned one of the waiters, and then exclaimed in a
+shrill tone, which rose above the clamor: "I demand a hearing!"
+
+"Granted!" cried the others, gayly. During the silence which followed
+the exclamation of Morok, the noise was again heard; it was this time
+quicker than before.
+
+"The lodger is innocent," said Morok, with a strange smile, "and would
+be quite incapable of interfering with your enjoyment."
+
+"Then why does he keep up that knocking?" said Ninny Moulin, emptying
+his glass.
+
+"Like a deaf man who has lost his ear-horn?" added the young artist.
+
+"It is not the lodger who is knocking" said Morok, in a sharp, quick
+tone; "for they are nailing him down in his coffin." A sudden and
+mournful silence followed these words.
+
+"His coffin no, I am wrong," resumed Morok; "her coffin, I should say,
+or more properly their coffin; for, in these pressing times, they put
+mother and child together."
+
+"A woman!" cried PLEASURE, addressing the writer; "is it a woman that is
+dead?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am; a poor young woman about twenty years of age," answered the
+waiter in a sorrowful tone. "Her little girl, that she was nursing, died
+soon after--all in less than two hours. My master is very sorry that
+you ladies and gents should be disturbed in this way; but he could not
+foresee this misfortune, as yesterday morning the young woman was quite
+well, and singing with all her might--no one could have been gayer than
+she was."
+
+Upon these words, it was as if a funeral pall had been suddenly thrown
+over a scene lately so full of joy; all the rubicund and jovial faces
+took an expression of sadness; no one had the hardihood to make a
+jest of mother and child, nailed down together in the same coffin. The
+silence became so profound, that one could hear each breath oppressed by
+terror: the last blows of the hammer seemed to strike painfully on every
+heart; it appeared as if each sad feeling, until now repressed,
+was about to replace that animation and gayety, which had been more
+factitious than sincere. The moment was decisive. It was necessary to
+strike an immediate blow, and to raise the spirits of the guests, for
+many pretty rosy faces began to grow pale, many scarlet ears became
+suddenly white; Ninny Moulin's were of the number.
+
+On the contrary, Sleepinbuff exhibited an increase of audacity; he drew
+up his figure, bent down from the effects of exhaustion, and, with a
+cheek slightly flushed, he exclaimed: "Well, waiter? are those bottles
+of brandy coming? And the punch? Devil and all! are the dead to frighten
+the living?"
+
+"He's right! Down with sorrow, and let's have the punch!" cried several
+of the guests, who felt the necessity of reviving their courage.
+
+"Forward, punch!"
+
+"Begone, dull care!"
+
+"Jollity forever!"
+
+"Gentlemen, here is the punch," said a waiter, opening the door. At
+sight of the flaming beverage, which was to reanimate their enfeebled
+spirits, the room rang with the loudest applause.
+
+The sun had just set. The room was large, being capable of dining a
+hundred guests; and the windows were few, narrow, and half veiled by red
+cotton curtains. Though it was not yet night, some portions of this vast
+saloon were almost entirely dark. Two waiters brought the monster-punch,
+in an immense brass kettle, brilliant as gold, suspended from an iron
+bar, and crowned with flames of changing color. The burning beverage was
+then placed upon the table, to the great joy of the guests, who began to
+forget their past alarms.
+
+"Now," said Jacques to Morok, in a taunting tone, "while the punch is
+burning, we will have our duel. The company shall judge." Then, pointing
+to the two bottles of brandy, which the waiter had brought, Jacques
+added: "Choose your weapon!"
+
+"Do you choose," answered Morok.
+
+"Well! here's your bottle--and here's your glass. Ninny Moulin shall be
+umpire."
+
+"I do not refuse to be judge of the field," answered the religious
+writer, "only I must warn you, comrade, that you are playing a desperate
+game, and that just now, as one of these gentlemen has said, the neck
+of a bottle of brandy in one's mouth, is perhaps more dangerous than the
+barrel of a loaded pistol."
+
+"Give the word, old fellow!" said Jacques, interrupting Ninny Moulin,
+"or I will give it myself."
+
+"Since you will have it so--so be it!"
+
+"The first who gives in is conquered," said Jacques.
+
+"Agreed!" answered Morok.
+
+"Come, gentlemen, attention! we must follow every movement," resumed
+Ninny Moulin. "Let us first see if the bottles are of the same
+size--equality of weapons being the foremost condition."
+
+During these preparations, profound silence reigned in the room. The
+courage of the majority of those present, animated for a moment by the
+arrival of the punch, was soon again depressed by gloomy thoughts,
+as they vaguely foresaw the danger of the contest between Morok and
+Jacques. This impression joined to the sad thoughts occasioned by the
+incident of the coffin, darkened by degrees many a countenance. Some
+of the guests, indeed, continued to make a show of rejoicing, but their
+gayety appeared forced. Under certain circumstances, the smallest things
+will have the most powerful effect. We have said that, after sunset,
+a portion of this large room was plunged in obscurity; therefore, the
+guests who sat in the remote corners of the apartment, had no other
+light than the reflection of the flaming punch. Now it is well known,
+that the flame of burning spirit throws a livid, bluish tint over the
+countenance; it was therefore a strange, almost frightful spectacle, to
+see a number of the guests, who happened to be at a distance from the
+windows, in this ghastly and fantastic light.
+
+The painter, more struck than all the rest by this effect of color,
+exclaimed: "Look! at this end of the table, we might fancy ourselves
+feasting with cholera-patients, we are such fine blues and greens."
+
+This jest was not much relished. Fortunately, the loud voice of Ninny
+Moulin demanded attention, and for a moment turned the thoughts of the
+company.
+
+"The lists are open," cried the religious writer, really more frightened
+than he chose to appear. "Are you ready, brave champions?" he added.
+
+"We are ready," said Morok and Jacques.
+
+"Present! fire!" cried Ninny Moulin, clapping his hands. And the two
+drinkers each emptied a tumbler full of brandy at a draught.
+
+Morok did not even knit his brow; his marble face remained impassible;
+with a steady hand he replaced his glass upon the table. But Jacques, as
+he put down his glass, could not conceal a slight convulsive trembling,
+caused by internal suffering.
+
+"Bravely done!" cried Ninny Moulin. "The quarter of a bottle of brandy
+at a draught--it is glorious! No one else here would be capable of such
+prowess. And now, worthy champions, if you believe me, you will stop
+where you are."
+
+"Give the word!" answered Jacques, intrepidly. And, with feverish and
+shaking hand, he seized the bottle; then suddenly, instead of filling
+his glass, he said to Morok: "Bah! we want no glasses. It is braver to
+drink from the bottle. I dare you to it!"
+
+Morok's only answer was to shrug his shoulders, and raise the neck
+of the bottle to his lips. Jacques hastened to imitate him. The thin,
+yellowish, transparent glass gave a perfect view of the progressive
+diminution of the liquor. The stony countenance of Morok, and the pale
+thin face of Jacques, on which already stood large drops of cold sweat,
+were now, as well as the features of the other guests, illuminated
+by the bluish light of the punch; every eye was fixed upon Morok and
+Jacques, with that barbarous curiosity which cruel spectacles seem
+involuntarily to inspire.
+
+Jacques continued to drink, holding the bottle in his left hand;
+suddenly, he closed and tightened the fingers of his right hand with
+a convulsive movement; his hair clung to his icy forehead, and his
+countenance revealed an agony of pain. Yet he continued to drink; only,
+without removing his lips from the neck of the bottle, he lowered it for
+an instant, as if to recover breath. Just then, Jacques met the sardonic
+look of Morok, who continued to drink with his accustomed impassibility.
+Thinking that he saw the expression of insulting triumph in Morok's
+glance, Jacques raised his elbow abruptly, and drank with avidity a few
+drops more. But his strength was exhausted. A quenchless fire devoured
+his vitals. His sufferings were too intense, and he could no longer bear
+up against them. His head fell backwards, his jaws closed convulsively,
+he crushed the neck of the bottle between his teeth, his neck grew
+rigid, his limbs writhed with spasmodic action, and he became almost
+senseless.
+
+"Jacques, my good fellow! it is nothing," cried Morok, whose ferocious
+glance now sparkled with diabolical joy. Then, replacing his bottle
+on the table, he rose to go to the aid of Ninny Moulin, who was vainly
+endeavoring to hold Sleepinbuff.
+
+This sudden attack had none of the symptoms of cholera. Yet terror
+seized upon all present; one of the women was taken with hysterics, and
+another uttered piercing cries and fainted away. Ninny Moulin, leaving
+Jacques in the hands of Morok, ran towards the door to seek for
+help,--when that door was suddenly opened, and the religious writer drew
+back in alarm, at the sight of the unexpected personage who appeared on
+the threshold.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. MEMORIES.
+
+The person before whom Ninny Moulin stopped in such extreme astonishment
+was the Bacchanal Queen.
+
+Pale and wan, with, hair in disorder, hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, and
+clothed almost in rags, this brilliant and joyous heroine of so many mad
+orgies was now only the shadow of her former self. Misery and grief were
+impressed on that countenance, once so charming. Hardly had she entered
+the room, when Cephyse paused; her mournful and unquiet gaze strove
+to penetrate the half-obscurity of the apartment, in search of him she
+longed to see. Suddenly the girl started, and uttered a loud scream.
+She had just perceived, at the other side of a long table, by the bluish
+light of the punch, Jacques struggling with Morok and one of the guests,
+who were hardly able to restrain his convulsive movements.
+
+At this sight Cephyse, in her first alarm, carried away by her
+affection, did what she had so often done in the intoxication of joy and
+pleasure. Light and agile, instead of losing precious time in making a
+long circuit, she sprang at once upon the table, passed nimbly through
+the array of plates and bottles, and with one spring was by the side of
+the sufferer.
+
+"Jacques!" she exclaimed, without yet remarking the lion-tamer, and
+throwing herself on the neck of her lover. "Jacques! it is I--Cephyse!"
+
+That well-known voice, that heart-piercing cry, which came from the
+bottom of the soul, seemed not unheard by Sleepinbuff. He turned his
+head mechanically towards the Bacchanal Queen, without opening his eyes,
+and heaved a deep sigh; his stiffened limbs relaxed, a slight trembling
+succeeded to the convulsions, and in a few seconds his heavy eyelids
+were raised with an effort, so as to uncover his dull and wandering
+gaze. Mute with astonishment, the spectators of this scene felt an
+uneasy curiosity. Cephyse, kneeling beside her lover, bathed his hands
+in her tears, covered them with kisses, and exclaimed, in a voice broken
+by sobs, "It is I--Cephyse--I have found you again--it was not my fault
+that I abandoned you! Forgive me, forgive--"
+
+"Wretched woman!" cried Morok, irritated at this meeting, which might,
+perhaps, be fatal to his projects; "do you wish to kill him? In his
+present state, this agitation is death. Begone!" So saying, he seized
+Cephyse suddenly by the arm, just as Jacques, waking, as it were, from a
+painful dream, began to distinguish what was passing around him.
+
+"You! It is you!" cried the Bacchanal Queen, in amazement, as she
+recognized Morok, "who separated me from Jacques!"
+
+She paused; for the dim eye of the victim, as it rested upon her, grew
+suddenly bright.
+
+"Cephyse!" murmured Jacques; "is it you?"
+
+"Yes, it is I," answered she, in a voice of deep emotion; "who have
+come--I will tell you--"
+
+She was unable to continue, and, as she clasped her hands together,
+her pale, agitated, tearful countenance expressed her astonishment and
+despair at the mortal change which had taken place in the features
+of Jacques. He understood the cause of her surprise, and as he
+contemplated, in his turn, the suffering and emaciated countenance of
+Cephyse, he said to her, "Poor girl! you also have had to bear much
+grief, much misery--I should hardly have known you."
+
+"Yes," replied Cephyse, "much grief--much misery--and worse than
+misery," she added, trembling, whilst a deep blush overspread her pale
+features.
+
+"Worse than misery?" said Jacques, astonished.
+
+"But it is you who have suffered," hastily resumed Cephyse, without
+answering her lover.
+
+"Just now, I was going to make an end of it--your voice has recalled me
+for an instant--but I feel something here," and he laid his hand upon
+his breast, "which never gives quarter. It is all the same now--I have
+seen you--I shall die happy."
+
+"You shall not die, Jacques; I am here--"
+
+"Listen to one, my girl. If I had a bushel of live coal in my stomach,
+it could hardly burn me more. For more than a month, I have been
+consuming my body by a slow fire. This gentleman," he added, glancing at
+Morok, "this dear friend, always undertook to feed the flame. I do not
+regret life; I have lost the habit of work, and taken to drink and riot;
+I should have finished by becoming a thorough blackguard: I preferred
+that my friend here should amuse himself with lighting a furnace in my
+inside. Since what I drank just now, I am certain that it fumes like
+yonder punch."
+
+"You are both foolish and ungrateful," said Morok, shrugging his
+shoulders; "you held out your glass, and I filled it--and, faith, we
+shall drink long and often together yet."
+
+For some moments, Cephyse had not withdrawn her eyes from Morok. "I tell
+you, that you have long blown the fire, in which I have burnt my skin,"
+resumed Jacques, addressing Morok in a feeble voice, "so that they may
+not think I die of cholera. It would look as if I had been frightened
+by the part I played. I do not therefore reproach you, my affectionate
+friend," added he, with a sardonic smile; "you dug my grave gayly--and
+sometimes, when, seeing the great dark hole, into which I was about to
+fall, I drew back a step--but you, my excellent friend, still pushed
+me forward, saying, 'Go on, my boy, go on!'--and I went on--and here I
+am--"
+
+So saying, Sleepinbuff burst into a bitter laugh, which sent an icy
+shudder through the spectators of this scene.
+
+"My good fellow," said Morok, coolly, "listen to me, and follow my
+advice."
+
+"Thank you! I know your advice--and, instead of listening to you, I
+prefer speaking to my poor Cephyse. Before I go down to the moles, I
+should like to tell her what weighs on my heart."
+
+"Jacques," replied Cephyse, "do not talk so. I tell you, you shall not
+die."
+
+"Why, then, my brave Cephyse, I shall owe my life to you," returned
+Jacques, in a tone of serious feeling, which surprised the spectators.
+"Yes," resumed he, "when I came to myself, and saw you so poorly clad,
+I felt something good about my heart--do you know why?--it was because
+I said to myself, 'Poor girl! she has kept her word bravely; she has
+chosen to toil, and want, and suffer--rather than take another love--who
+would have given her what I gave her as long as I could'--and that
+thought, Cephyse, refreshed my soul. I needed it, for I was burning--and
+I burn still," added he, clinching his fists with pain; "but that made
+me happy--it did me good--thanks, my good, brave Cephyse--yes, you are
+good and brave--and you were right; for I never loved any but you in the
+wide world; and if, in my degradation, I had one thought that raised me
+a little above the filth, and made me regret that I was not better--the
+thought was of you! Thanks then, my poor, dear love," said Jacques,
+whose hot and shining eyes were becoming moist; "thanks once again," and
+he reached his cold hand to Cephyse; "if I die, I shall die happy--if I
+live, I shall live happy also. Give me your hand, my brave Cephyse!--you
+have acted like a good and honest creature."
+
+Instead of taking the hand which Jacques offered her, Cephyse, still
+kneeling, bowed her head, and dared not raise her eyes to her lover.
+
+"You don't answer," said he, leaning over towards the young girl; "you
+don't take my hand--why is this?"
+
+The unfortunate creature only answered by stifled sobs. Borne down with
+shame, she held herself in so humble, so supplicating an attitude, that
+her forehead almost touched the feet of her lover.
+
+Amazed at the silence and conduct of the Bacchanal Queen, Jacques
+looked at her with increasing agitation; suddenly he stammered out with
+trembling lips, "Cephyse, I know you. If you do not take my hand, it is
+because--"
+
+Then, his voice failing, he added, in a dull tone, after a moment's
+silence, "When, six weeks ago, I was taken to prison, did you not say to
+me, 'Jacques, I swear that I will work--and if need be, live in horrible
+misery--but I will live true!' That was your promise. Now, I know you
+never speak false; tell me you have kept your word, and I shall believe
+you."
+
+Cephyse only answered by a heart-rending sob, as she pressed the knees
+of Jacques against her heaving bosom. By a strange contradiction, more
+common than is generally thought--this man, degraded by intoxication
+and debauchery, who, since he came out of prison, had plunged in every
+excess, and tamely yielded to all the fatal incitements of Morok, yet
+received a fearful blow, when he learned, by the mute avowal of
+Cephyse, the infidelity, of this creature, whom he had loved in spite of
+degradation. The first impulse of Jacques was terrible. Notwithstanding
+his weakness and exhaustion, he succeeded in rising from his seat, and,
+with a countenance contracted by rage and despair, he seized a knife,
+before they had time to prevent him, and turned it upon Cephyse. But at
+the moment he was about to strike, shrinking from an act of murder, he
+hurled the knife far away from him, and falling back into the chair,
+covered his face with his hands.
+
+At the cry of Ninny Moulin, who had, though late, thrown himself upon
+Jacques to take away the knife, Cephyse raised her head: Jacques's
+woeful dejection wrung her heart; she rose, and fell upon his neck,
+notwithstanding his resistance, exclaiming in a voice broken by sobs,
+"Jacques, if you knew! if you only knew--listen--do not condemn me
+without hearing me--I will tell you all, I swear to you--without
+falsehood--this man," and she pointed to Morok, "will not dare deny what
+I say; he came, and told me to have the courage to--"
+
+"I do not reproach you. I have no right to reproach you. Let me die
+in peace. I ask nothing but that now," said Jacques, in a still weaker
+voice, as he repulsed Cephyse. Then he added, with a grievous and
+bitter smile, "Luckily, I have my dose. I knew--what I was doing--when I
+accepted the duel with brandy."
+
+"No, you shall not die, and you shall hear me," cried Cephyse, with a
+bewildered air; "you shall hear me, and everybody else shall hear me.
+They shall see that it is not my fault. Is it not so, gentlemen? Do I
+not deserve pity? You will entreat Jacques to forgive me; for if driven
+by misery--finding no work--I was forced to this--not for the sake of
+any luxury--you see the rags I wear--but to get bread and shelter for my
+poor, sick sister--dying, and even more miserable than myself--would you
+not have pity upon me? Do you think one finds pleasure in one's infamy?"
+cried the unfortunate, with a burst of frightful laughter; then she
+added, in a low voice, and with a shudder, "Oh, if you knew, Jacques! it
+is so infamous, so horrible, that I preferred death to falling so low
+a second time. I should have killed myself, had I not heard you were
+here." Then, seeing that Jacques did not answer her, but shook his
+head mournfully as he sank down though still supported by Ninny
+Moulin, Cephyse exclaimed, as she lifted her clasped hands towards him,
+"Jacques! one word--for pity's sake--forgive me!"
+
+"Gentlemen, pray remove this woman," cried Morok; "the sight of her
+causes my friend too painful emotions."
+
+"Come, my dear child, be reasonable," said several of the guests, who,
+deeply moved by this scene, were endeavoring to withdraw Cephyse from
+it; "leave him, and come with us; he is not in any danger."
+
+"Gentlemen! oh, gentlemen!" cried the unfortunate creature, bursting
+into tears, and raising her hands in supplication; "listen to me--I
+will do all that you wish me--I will go--but, in heaven's name, send
+for help, and do not let him die thus. Look, what pain he suffers! what
+horrible convulsions!"
+
+"She is right," said one of the guests, hastening towards the door; "we
+must send for a doctor."
+
+"There is no doctor to be found," said another; "they are all too busy."
+
+"We will do better than that," cried a third; "the Hospital is just
+opposite, and we can carry the poor fellow thither. They will give him
+instant help. A leaf of the table will make a litter, and the table
+cloth a covering."
+
+"Yes, yes, that is it," said several voices; "let us carry him over at
+once."
+
+Jacques, burnt up with brandy, and overcome by his interview with
+Cephyse, had again fallen into violent convulsions. It was the dying
+paroxysm of the unfortunate man. They were obliged to tie him with the
+ends of the cloth, so as to secure him to the leaf which was to serve
+for a litter, which two of the guests hastened to carry away. They
+yielded to the supplication of Cephyse, who asked, as a last favor, to
+accompany Jacques to the Hospital. When the mournful procession quitted
+the great room of the eating-house, there was a general flight among the
+guests. Men and women made haste to wrap themselves in their cloaks, in
+order to conceal their costumes. The coaches, which had been ordered in
+tolerable number for the return of the masquerade, had luckily
+arrived. The defiance had been fully carried out, the audacious bravado
+accomplished, and they could now retire with the honors of war. Whilst a
+part of the guests were still in the room, an uproar, at first distant,
+but which soon drew nearer, broke out with incredible fury in the square
+of Notre Dame.
+
+Jacques had been carried to the outer door of the tavern. Morok and
+Ninny Moulin, striving to open a passage through the crowd in the
+direction of the Hospital, preceded the litter. A violent reflux of
+the multitude soon forced them to stop, whilst a new storm of savage
+outcries burst from the other extremity of the square, near the angle of
+the church.
+
+"What is it then?" asked Ninny Moulin of one of those ignoble figures
+that was leaping up before him. "What are those cries?"
+
+"They are making mince-meat of a poisoner, like him they have thrown
+into the river," replied the man. "If you want to see the fun, follow me
+close," added he, "and peg away with your elbows, for fear you should be
+too late."
+
+Hardly had the wretch pronounced these words than a dreadful shriek
+sounded above the roar of the crowd, through which the bearers of the
+litter, preceded by Morok, were with difficulty making their way. It
+was Cephyse who uttered that cry. Jacques (one of the seven heirs of the
+Rennepont family) had just expired in her arms! By a strange fatality,
+at the very moment that the despairing exclamation of Cephyse announced
+that death, another cry rose from that part of the square where they
+were attacking the poisoner. That distant, supplicating cry, tremulous
+with horrible alarm, like the last appeal of a man staggering beneath
+the blows of his murderers, chilled the soul of Morok in the midst of
+his execrable triumph.
+
+"Damnation!" cried the skillful assassin, who had selected drunkenness
+and debauchery for his murderous but legal weapons; "it is the voice of
+the Abbe d'Aigrigny, whom they have in their clutches!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. THE POISONER.
+
+It is necessary to go back a little before relating the adventure of
+Father d'Aigrigny, whose cry of distress made so deep an impression upon
+Morok just at the moment of Jacques Rennepont's death. We have said that
+the most absurd and alarming reports were circulating in Paris; not only
+did people talk of poison given to the sick or thrown into the public
+fountains, but it was also said that wretches had been surprised in the
+act of putting arsenic into the pots which are usually kept all ready
+on the counters of wine-shops. Goliath was on his way to rejoin Morok,
+after delivering a message to Father d'Aigrigny, who was waiting in a
+house on the Place de l'Archeveche. He entered a wine-shop in the Rue
+de la Calandre, to get some refreshment, and having drunk two glasses
+of wine, he proceeded to pay for them. Whilst the woman of the house was
+looking for change, Goliath, mechanically and very innocently, rested
+his hand on the mouth of one of the pots that happened to be within his
+reach.
+
+The tall stature of this man and his repulsive and savage countenance
+had already alarmed the good woman, whose fears and prejudices had
+previously been roused by the public rumors on the subject of poisoning;
+but when she saw Goliath place his hand over the mouth of one of her
+pots, she cried out in dismay: "Oh! my gracious! what are you throwing
+into that pot?" At these words, spoken in a loud voice, and with the
+accent of terror, two or three of the drinkers at one of the tables
+rose precipitately, and ran to the counter, while one of them rashly
+exclaimed: "It is a poisoner!"
+
+Goliath, not aware of the reports circulated in the neighborhood, did
+not at first understand of what he was accused. The men raised their
+voices as they called on him to answer the charge; but he, trusting to
+his strength, shrugged his shoulders in disdain, and roughly demanded
+the change, which the pale and frightened hostess no longer thought of
+giving him.
+
+"Rascal!" cried one of the men, with so much violence that several of
+the passers-by stopped to listen; "you shall have your change when you
+tell us what you threw in the pot!"
+
+"Ha! did he throw anything into the wine-pot?" said one of the passers
+by.
+
+"It is, perhaps, a poisoner," said another.
+
+"He ought to be taken up," added a third.
+
+"Yes, yes," cried those in the house--honest people perhaps, but under
+the influence of the general panic; "he must be taken up, for he has
+been throwing poison into the wine-pots."
+
+The words "He is a poisoner" soon spread through the group, which, at
+first composed of three or four persons, increased every instant around
+the door of the wine-shop. A dull, menacing clamor began to rise from
+the crowd; the first accuser, seeing his fears thus shared and almost
+justified, thought he was acting like a good and courageous citizen
+in taking Goliath by the collar, and saying to him: "Come and explain
+yourself at the guard-house, villain!"
+
+The giant, already provoked at insults of which he did not perceive the
+real meaning, was exasperated at this sudden attack; yielding to his
+natural brutality, he knocked his adversary down upon the counter,
+and began to hammer him with his fists. During this collision, several
+bottles and two or three panes of glass were broken with much noise,
+whilst the woman of the house, more and more frightened, cried out with
+all her might; "Help! a poisoner! Help! murder!"
+
+At the sound of the breaking windows and these cries of distress, the
+passers-by, of whom the greater number believed in the stories about
+the poisoners, rushed into the shop to aid in securing Goliath. But
+the latter, thanks to his herculean strength, after struggling for
+some moments with seven or eight persons, knocked down two of his most
+furious assailants, disengaged himself from the others, drew near the
+counter, and, taking a vigorous spring, rushed head-foremost, like
+a bull about to butt, upon the crowd that blocked up the door; then,
+forcing a passage, by the help of his enormous shoulders and athletic
+arms, he made his way into the street, and ran with all speed in the
+direction of the square of Notre-Dame, his garments torn, his head bare,
+and his countenance pale and full of rage. Immediately, a number of
+persons from amongst the crowd started in pursuit of Goliath, and a
+hundred voices exclaimed: "Stop--stop the poisoner!"
+
+Hearing these cries, and seeing a man draw near with a wild and troubled
+look, a butcher, who happened to be passing with his large, empty tray
+on his head, threw it against Goliath's shins, and taken by surprise, he
+stumbled and fell. The butcher, thinking he had performed as heroic an
+action as if he had encountered a mad dog, flung himself on Goliath,
+and rolled over with him on the pavement, exclaiming: "Help! it is a
+poisoner! Help! help!" This scene took place not far from the Cathedral,
+but at some distance from the crowd which was pressing round the
+hospital gate, as well as from the eating-house in which the masquerade
+of the cholera then was. The day was now drawing to a close. On the
+piercing call of the butcher, several groups, at the head of which were
+Ciboule and the quarryman, flew towards the scene of the struggle,
+while those who had pursued the pretended poisoner from the Rue de la
+Calandre, reached the square on their side.
+
+At sight of this threatening crowd advancing towards him, Goliath,
+whilst he continued to defend himself against the butcher, who held him
+with the tenacity of a bull-dog, felt that he was lost unless he could
+rid himself of this adversary before the arrival of the rest; with a
+furious blow of the fist, therefore, he broke the jaw of the butcher,
+who just then was above him, and disengaging himself from his hold, he
+rose, and staggered a few steps forward. Suddenly he stopped. He saw
+that he was surrounded. Behind him rose the walls of the cathedral; to
+the right and left, and in front of him, advanced a hostile multitude.
+The groans uttered by the butcher, who had just been lifted from the
+ground covered with blood, augmented the fury of the populace.
+
+This was a terrible moment for Goliath: still standing alone in the
+centre of a ring that grew smaller every second, he saw on all sides
+angry enemies rushing towards him, and uttering cries of death. As the
+wild boar turns round once or twice, before resolving to stand at bay
+and face the devouring pack, Goliath, struck with terror, made one or
+two abrupt and wavering movements. Then, as he abandoned the possibility
+of flight, instinct told him that he had no mercy to expect from a crowd
+given up to blind and savage fury--a fury the more pitiless as it was
+believed to be legitimate. Goliath determined, therefore, at least to
+sell his life dearly; he sought for a knife in his pocket, but, not
+finding it, he threw out his left leg in an athletic posture, and
+holding up his muscular arms, hard and stiff as bars of iron, waited
+with intrepidity for the shock.
+
+The first who approached Goliath was Ciboule. The hag, heated and out
+of breath, instead of rushing upon him, paused, stooped down, and
+taking off one of the large wooden shoes that she wore, hurled it at the
+giant's head with so much force and with so true an aim that it struck
+him right in the eye, which hung half out of its socket. Goliath pressed
+his hands to his face, and uttered a cry of excruciating pain.
+
+"I've made him squint!" said Ciboule, with a burst of laughter.
+
+Goliath, maddened by the pain, instead of waiting for the attack, which
+the mob still hesitated to begin, so greatly were they awed by his
+appearance of herculean strength--the only adversary worthy to cope with
+him being the quarryman, who had been borne to a distance by the surging
+of the crowd--Goliath, in his rage, rushed headlong upon the nearest.
+Such a struggle was too unequal to last long; but despair redoubled
+the Colossus's strength, and the combat was for a moment terrible. The
+unfortunate man did not fall at once. For some seconds, almost buried
+amid a swarm of furious assailants, one saw now his mighty arm rise and
+fall like a sledge hammer, beating upon skulls and faces, and now his
+enormous head, livid and bloody, drawn back by some of the combatants
+hanging to his tangled hair. Here and there sudden openings and violent
+oscillations of the crowd bore witness to the incredible energy of
+Goliath's defence. But when the quarryman succeeded in reaching him,
+Goliath was overpowered and thrown down. A long, savage cheer in triumph
+announced this fall; for, under such circumstances, to "go under" is "to
+die." Instantly a thousand breathless and angry voices repeated the cry
+of "Death to the poisoner!"
+
+Then began one of those scenes of massacre and torture, worthy of
+cannibals, horrible to relate, and the more incredible, that they happen
+almost always in the presence, and often with the aid, of honest and
+humane people, who, blinded by false notions and stupid prejudices,
+allow themselves to be led into all sorts of barbarity, under the idea
+of performing an act of inexorable justice. As it frequently happens,
+the sight of the blood which flowed in torrents from Goliath's wounds
+inflamed to madness the rage of his assailants. A hundred fists struck
+at the unhappy man; he was stamped under foot, his face and chest were
+beaten in. Ever and anon, in the midst of furious cries of "Death to the
+poisoner!" heavy blows were audible, followed by stifled groans. It was
+a frightful butchery. Each individual, yielding to a sanguinary frenzy,
+came in turn to strike his blow; or to tear off his morsel of flesh.
+Women--yes, women--mothers!--came to spend their rage on this mutilated
+form.
+
+There was one moment of frightful terror. With his face all bruised and
+covered with mud, his garments in rags, his chest bare, red, gaping with
+wounds--Goliath, availing himself of a moment's weariness on the part of
+his assassins, who believed him already, finished, succeeded, by one of
+those convulsive starts frequent in the last agony, in raising himself
+to his feet for a few seconds; then, blind with wounds and loss of
+blood, striking about his arms in the air as if to parry blows that were
+no longer struck, he muttered these words, which came from his mouth,
+accompanied by a crimson torrent: "Mercy! I am no poisoner. Mercy!" This
+sort of resurrection produced so great an effect on the crowd, that for
+an instant they fell hack affrighted. The clamor ceased, and a small
+space was left around the victim. Some hearts began even to feel pity;
+when the quarryman, seeing Goliath blinded with blood, groping before
+him with his hands, exclaimed in ferocious allusion to a well-known
+game: "Now for blind-man's-bluff."
+
+Then, with a violent kick, he again threw down the victim, whose head
+struck twice heavily on the pavement.
+
+Just as the giant fell a voice from amongst the crowd exclaimed: "It is
+Goliath! stop! he is innocent."
+
+It was Father d'Aigrigny, who, yielding to a generous impulse, was
+making violent efforts to reach the foremost rank of the actors in this
+scene, and who cried out, as he came nearer, pale, indignant, menacing:
+"You are cowards and murderers! This man is innocent. I know him. You
+shall answer for his life."
+
+These vehement words were received with loud murmurs.
+
+"You know that poisoner," cried the quarryman, seizing the Jesuit by the
+collar; "then perhaps you are a poisoner too.
+
+"Wretch," exclaimed Father d'Aigrigny, endeavoring to shake himself
+loose from the grasp, "do you dare to lay hand upon me?"
+
+"Yes, I dare do anything," answered the quarryman.
+
+"He knows him: he's a poisoner like the other," cried the crowd,
+pressing round the two adversaries; whilst Goliath, who had fractured
+his skull in the fall, uttered a long death-rattle.
+
+At a sudden movement of Father d'Aigrigny, who disengaged himself from
+the quarryman, a large glass phial of peculiar form, very thick, and
+filled with a greenish liquor, fell from his pocket, and rolled close
+to the dying Goliath. At sight of this phial, many voices exclaimed
+together: "It is poison! Only see! He had poison upon him."
+
+The clamor redoubled at this accusation, and they pressed so close to
+Abbe d'Aigrigny, that he exclaimed: "Do not touch me! do not approach
+me!"
+
+"If he is a poisoner," said a voice, "no more mercy for him than for the
+other."
+
+"I a poisoner?" said the abbe, struck with horror.
+
+Ciboule had darted upon the phial; the quarryman seized it from her,
+uncorked it and presenting it to Father d'Aigrigny, said to him: "Now
+tell us what is that?"
+
+"It is not poison," cried Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Then drink it!" returned the quarryman.
+
+"Yes, yes! let him drink it!" cried the mob.
+
+"Never," answered Father d'Aigrigny, in extreme alarm. And he drew back
+as he spoke, pushing away the phial with his hand.
+
+"Do you see? It is poison. He dares not drink it," they exclaimed.
+Hemmed in on every side, Father d'Aigrigny stumbled against the body of
+Goliath.
+
+"My friends," cried the Jesuit, who, without being a poisoner, found
+himself exposed to a terrible alternative, for his phial contained
+aromatic salts of extraordinary strength, designed for a preservative
+against the cholera, and as dangerous to swallow as any poison, "my good
+friends, you are in error. I conjure you, in the name of heaven--"
+
+"If that is not poison, drink it!" interrupted the quarryman, as he
+again offered the bottle to the Jesuit.
+
+"If he does not drink it, death to the poisoner of the poor!"
+
+"Yes!--death to him! death to him!"
+
+"Unhappy men!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, whilst his hair stood on end
+with terror; "do you mean to murder me?"
+
+"What about all those, that you and your mate have killed, you wretch?"
+
+"But it is not true--and--"
+
+"Drink, then!" repeated the inflexible quarryman; "I ask you for the
+last time."
+
+"To drink that would be death," cried Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Oh! only hear the wretch!" cried the mob, pressing closer to him; "he
+has confessed--he has confessed!"
+
+"He has betrayed himself!"(40)
+
+"He said, 'to drink that would be death!'"
+
+"But listen to me," cried the abbe, clasping his hands together; "this
+phial is--"
+
+Furious cries interrupted Father d'Aigrigny. "Ciboule, make an end of
+that one!" cried the quarryman, spurning Goliath with his foot. "I will
+begin this one!" And he seized Father d'Aigrigny by the throat.
+
+At these words, two different groups formed themselves. One, led by
+Ciboule, "made an end" of Goliath, with kicks and blows, stones and
+wooden shoes; his body was soon reduced to a horrible thing, mutilated,
+nameless, formless--a mere inert mass of filth and mangled flesh.
+Ciboule gave her cloak, which they tied to one of the dislocated ankles
+of the body, and thus dragged it to the parapet of the quay. There, with
+shouts of ferocious joy, they precipitated the bloody remains into
+the river. Now who does not shudder at the thought that, in a time of
+popular commotion, a word, a single word, spoken imprudently, even by
+an honest man, and without hatred, will suffice to provoke so horrible a
+murder.
+
+"Perhaps it is a poisoner!" said one of the drinkers in the tavern of
+the Rue de la Calandre--nothing more--and Goliath had been pitilessly
+murdered.
+
+What imperious reasons for penetrating the lowest depths of the masses
+with instruction and with light--to enable unfortunate creatures
+to defend themselves from so many stupid prejudices, so many fatal
+superstitions, so much implacable fanaticism!--How can we ask for
+calmness, reflection, self-control, or the sentiment of justice from
+abandoned beings, whom ignorance has brutalized, and misery depraved,
+and suffering made ferocious, and of whom society takes no thought,
+except when it chains them to the galleys, or binds them ready for the
+executioner! The terrible cry which had so startled Morok was uttered
+by Father d'Aigrigny as the quarryman laid his formidable hand upon him,
+saying to Ciboule: "Make an end of that one--I will begin this one!"
+
+(40) This fact is historical. A man was murdered because a phial full
+of ammonia was found upon him. On his refusal to drink it, the populace,
+persuaded that the bottle contained poison, tore him to pieces.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. IN THE CATHEDRAL.
+
+Night was almost come, as the mutilated body of Goliath was thrown into
+the river. The oscillations of the mob had carried into the street,
+which runs along the left side of the cathedral, the group into whose
+power Father d'Aigrigny had fallen. Having succeeded in freeing himself
+from the grasp of the quarryman, but still closely pressed by the
+multitude that surrounded him, crying, "Death to the poisoner!" he
+retreated step by step, trying to parry the blows that were dealt him.
+By presence of mind, address, and courage, recovering at that critical
+moment his old military energy, he had hitherto been able to resist and
+to remain firm on his feet--knowing, by the example of Goliath, that
+to fall was to die. Though he had little hope of being heard to any
+purpose, the abbe continued to call for help with all his might.
+Disputing the ground inch by inch, he manoeuvred so as to draw near
+one of the lateral walls of the church, and at length succeeded in
+ensconcing himself in a corner formed by the projection of a buttress,
+and close by a little door.
+
+This position was rather favorable. Leaning with his back against the
+wall, Father d'Aigrigny was sheltered from the attacks of a portion of
+his assailants. But the quarryman, wishing to deprive him of this last
+chance of safety, rushed upon him, with the intention of dragging him
+out into the circle where he would have been trampled under foot. The
+fear of death gave Father d'Aigrigny extraordinary strength, and he was
+able once more to repulse the quarryman, and remain entrenched in the
+corner where he had taken refuge. The resistance of the victim redoubled
+the rage of the assailants. Cries of murderous import resounded with
+new violence. The quarryman again rushed upon Father d'Aigrigny, saying,
+"Follow me, friends! this lasts too long. Let us make an end of it."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny saw that he was lost. His strength was exhausted,
+and he felt himself sinking; his legs trembled under him, and a cloud
+obscured his sight; the howling of the furious mob began to sound dull
+upon his ear. The effects of violent contusions, received during the
+struggle, both on the head and chest, were now very perceptible. Two or
+three times, a mixture of blood and foam rose to the lips of the abbe;
+his position was a desperate one.
+
+"To be slaughtered by these brutes, after escaping death so often in
+war!" Such was the thought of Father d'Aigrigny, as the quarryman rushed
+upon him.
+
+Suddenly, at the very moment when the abbe, yielding to the instinct of
+self-preservation, uttered one last call for help, in a heart-piercing
+voice, the door against which he leaned opened behind him, and a firm
+hand caught hold of him, and pulled him into the church. Thanks to
+this movement, performed with the rapidity of lightning, the quarryman,
+thrown forward in his attempt to seize Father d'Aigrigny, could not
+check his progress, and found himself just opposite to the person who
+had come, as it were, to take the place of the victim.
+
+The quarryman stopped short, and then fell back a couple of paces, so
+much was he amazed at this sudden apparition, and impressed, like the
+rest of the crowd, with a vague feeling of admiration and respect
+at sight of him who had come so miraculously to the aid of Father
+d'Aigrigny. It was Gabriel. The young missionary remained standing on
+the threshold of the door. His long black cassock was half lost in
+the shadows of the cathedral; whilst his angelic countenance, with its
+border of long light hair, now pale and agitated by pity and grief, was
+illumined by the last faint rays of twilight. This countenance shone
+with so divine a beauty, and expressed such touching and tender
+compassion, that the crowd felt awed as, with his large blue eyes full
+of tears, and his hands clasped together, he exclaimed, in a sonorous
+voice: "Have mercy, my brethren! Be humane--be just!"
+
+Recovering from his first feeling of surprise and involuntary emotion,
+the quarryman advanced a step towards Gabriel, and said to him: "No
+mercy for the poisoner! we must have him! Give him up to us, or we go
+and take him!"
+
+"You cannot think of it, my brethren," answered Gabriel; "the church is
+a sacred place--a place of refuge for the persecuted."
+
+"We would drag our prisoner from the altar!" answered the quarryman,
+roughly; "so give him up to us."
+
+"Listen to me, my brethren," said Gabriel, extending his arms towards
+them.
+
+"Down with the shaveling!" cried the quarryman; "let us go in and hunt
+him up in the church!"
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried the mob, again led away by the violence of this
+wretch, "down with the black gown!"
+
+"They are all of a piece!"
+
+"Down with them!"
+
+"Let us do as we did at the archbishop's!"
+
+"Or at Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois!"
+
+"What do our likes care for a church?"
+
+"If the priests defend the poisoners, we'll pitch them into the water
+too!"
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+"I'll show you the lead!" cried the quarryman; and followed by Ciboule,
+and a good number of determined men, he rushed towards Gabriel.
+
+The missionary, who for some moments had watched the increasing fury
+of the crowd, had foreseen this movement; hastily retreating into the
+church, he succeeded, in spite of the efforts of the assailants, in
+nearly closing the door, and in barricading it by the help of a wooden
+bar, which he held in such a manner as would enable the door to resist
+for a few minutes.
+
+Whilst he thus defended the entrance, Gabriel shouted to Father
+d'Aigrigny: "Fly, father! fly through the vestry! the other doors are
+fastened."
+
+The Jesuit, overpowered by fatigue, covered with contusions, bathed in
+cold sweat, feeling his strength altogether fail, and too soon fancying
+himself in safety, had sunk, half fainting, into a chair. At the
+voice of Gabriel, he rose with difficulty, and, with a trembling step,
+endeavored to reach the choir, separated from the rest of the church by
+an iron railing.
+
+"Quick, father!" added Gabriel, in alarm, using every effort to maintain
+the door, which was now vigorously assailed. "Make haste! In a few
+minutes it will be too late. All alone!" continued the missionary, in
+despair, "alone, to arrest the progress of these madmen!"
+
+He was indeed alone. At the first outbreak of the attack, three or four
+sacristans and other members of the establishment were in the church;
+but, struck with terror, and remembering the sack of the archbishop's
+palace, and of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, they had immediately taken
+flight. Some of them had concealed themselves in the organ-loft and
+others fled into the vestry, the doors of which they locked after them,
+thus cutting off the retreat of Gabriel and Father d'Aigrigny. The
+latter, bent double by pain, yet roused by the missionary's portentive
+warning, helping himself on by means of the chairs he met with on his
+passage, made vain efforts to reach the choir railing. After advancing
+a few steps, vanquished by his suffering, he staggered and fell upon the
+pavement, deprived of sense and motion. At the same moment, Gabriel,
+in spite of the incredible energy with which the desire to save Father
+d'Aigrigny had inspired him, felt the door giving way beneath the
+formidable pressure from without.
+
+Turning his head, to see if the Jesuit had at least quitted the church,
+Gabriel, to his great alarm, perceived that he was lying motionless at
+a few steps from the choir. To abandon the half-broken door, to run
+to Father d'Aigrigny, to lift him in his arms, and drag him within
+the railing of the choir, was for the young priest an action rapid as
+thought; for he closed the gate of the choir just at the instant that
+the quarryman and his band, having finished breaking down the door,
+rushed in a body into the church.
+
+Standing in front of the choir, with his arms crossed upon his
+breast, Gabriel waited calmly and intrepidly for this mob, still more
+exasperated by such unexpected resistance.
+
+The door once forced, the assailants rushed in with great violence. But
+hardly had they entered the church, than a strange scene took place. It
+was nearly dark; only a few silver lamps shed their pale light round
+the sanctuary, whose far outlines disappeared in the shadow. On suddenly
+entering the immense cathedral, dark, silent, and deserted, the most
+audacious were struck with awe, almost with fear in presence of the
+imposing grandeur of that stony solitude. Outcries and threats died away
+on the lips of the most furious. They seemed to dread awaking the
+echoes of those enormous arches, those black vaults, from which oozed a
+sepulchral dampness, which chilled their brows, inflamed with anger, and
+fell upon their shoulders like a mantle of ice.
+
+Religious tradition, routine, habit, the memories of childhood, have so
+much influence upon men, that hardly had they entered the church, than
+several of the quarryman's followers respectfully took off their hats,
+bowed their bare heads, and walked along cautiously, as if to check the
+noise of their footsteps on the sounding stones. Then they exchanged a
+few words in a low and fearful whisper. Others timidly raised their eyes
+to the far heights of the topmost arches of that gigantic building,
+now lost in obscurity, and felt almost frightened to see themselves so
+little in the midst of that immensity of darkness. But at the first joke
+of the quarryman, who broke this respectful silence, the emotion soon
+passed away.
+
+"Blood and thunder!" cried he; "are you fetching breath to sing vespers?
+If they had wine in the font, well and good!"
+
+These words were received with a burst of savage laughter. "All this
+time the villain will escape!" said one.
+
+"And we shall be done," added Ciboule.
+
+"One would think we had cowards here, who are afraid of the sacristans!"
+cried the quarryman.
+
+"Never!" replied the others in chorus; "we fear nobody."
+
+"Forward!"
+
+"Yes, yes--forward!" was repeated on all sides. And the animation, which
+had been calmed down for a moment, was redoubled in the midst of
+renewed tumult. Some moments after, the eyes of the assailants, becoming
+accustomed to the twilight, were able to distinguish in the midst of
+the faint halo shed around by a silver lamp, the imposing countenance of
+Gabriel, as he stood before the iron railing of the choir.
+
+"The poisoner is here, hid in some corner," cried the quarryman. "We
+must force this parson to give us back the villain."
+
+"He shall answer for him!"
+
+"He took him into the church."
+
+"He shall pay for both, if we do not find the other!"
+
+As the first impression of involuntary respect was effaced from the
+minds of the crowd, their voices rose the louder, and their faces became
+the more savage and threatening, because they all felt ashamed of their
+momentary hesitation and weakness.
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried many voices, trembling with rage, "we must have the
+life of one or the other!"
+
+"Or of both!"
+
+"So much the worse for this priest, if he wants to prevent us from
+serving out our poisoner!"
+
+"Death to him! death to him!"
+
+With this burst of ferocious yells, which were fearfully re-echoed from
+the groined arches of the cathedral, the mob, maddened by rage, rushed
+towards the choir, at the door of which Gabriel was standing. The young
+missionary, who, when placed on the cross by the savages of the Rocky
+Mountains, yet entreated heaven to spare his executioners, had too much
+courage in his heart, too much charity in his soul, not to risk his life
+a thousand times over to save Father d'Aigrigny's--the very man who had
+betrayed hire by such cowardly and cruel hypocrisy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE MURDERERS.
+
+The quarryman, followed by his gang, ran towards Gabriel, who had
+advanced a few paces from the choir-railing, and exclaimed, his eyes
+sparkling with rage: "Where is the poisoner? We will have him!"
+
+"Who has told you, my brethren, that he is a poisoner?" replied
+Gabriel, with his deep, sonorous voice. "A poisoner! Where are the
+proofs--witnesses or victims?"
+
+"Enough of that stuff! we are not here for confession," brutally
+answered the quarryman, advancing towards him in a threatening manner.
+"Give up the man to us; he shall be forthcoming, unless you choose to
+stand in his shoes?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" exclaimed several voices; "they are 'in' with one another!
+One or the other we will have!"
+
+"Very well, then; since it is so," said Gabriel, raising his head, and
+advancing with calmness, resignation; and fearlessness; "he or me,"
+added he;--"it seems to make no difference to you--you are determined
+to have blood--take mine, and I will pardon you, my friends; for a fatal
+delusion has unsettled your reason."
+
+These words of Gabriel, his courage, the nobleness of his attitude,
+the beauty of his countenance, had made an impression on some of
+the assailants, when suddenly a voice exclaimed: "Look! there is the
+poisoner, behind the railing!"
+
+"Where--where?" cried they.
+
+"There--don't you see?--stretched on the floor."
+
+On hearing this, the mob, which had hitherto formed a compact mass, in
+the sort of passage separating the two sides of the nave, between the
+rows of chairs, dispersed in every direction, to reach the railing
+of the choir, the last and only barrier that now sheltered Father
+d'Aigrigny. During this manoeuvre the quarryman, Ciboule, and others,
+advanced towards Gabriel, exclaiming, with ferocious joy: "This time we
+have him. Death to the poisoner!"
+
+To save Father d'Aigrigny, Gabriel would have allowed himself to be
+massacred at the entrance of the choir; but, a little further on, the
+railing, not above four feet in height, would in another instant be
+scaled or broken through. The Missionary lost all hope of saving the
+Jesuit from a frightful death. Yet he exclaimed: "Stop, poor deluded
+people!"--and, extending his arms, he threw himself in front of the
+crowd.
+
+His words, gesture, and countenance, were expressive of an authority
+at once so affectionate and so fraternal, that there was a momentary
+hesitation amongst the mob. But to this hesitation soon succeeded the
+most furious cries of "Death; death!"
+
+"You cry for his death?" cried Gabriel, growing still paler.
+
+"Yes! yes!"
+
+"Well, let him die," cried the missionary, inspired with a sudden
+thought; "let him die on the instant!"
+
+These words of the young priest struck the crowd with amazement. For a
+few moments, they all stood mute, motionless, and as it were, paralyzed,
+looking at Gabriel in stupid astonishment.
+
+"This man is guilty, you say," resumed the young missionary, in a voice
+trembling with emotion. "You have condemned him without proof, without
+witnesses--no matter, he must die. You reproach him with being a
+poisoner; where are his victims? You cannot tell--but no matter; he is
+condemned. You refuse to hear his defense, the sacred right of every
+accused person--no matter; the sentence is pronounced. You are at once
+his accusers, judges, and executioners. Be it so!--You have never seen
+till now this unfortunate man, he has done you no harm, he has perhaps
+not done harm to any one--yet you take upon yourselves the terrible
+responsibility of his death--understand me well--of his death. Be it so
+then! your conscience will absolve you--I will believe it. He must die;
+the sacredness of God's house will not save him--"
+
+"No, no!" cried many furious voices.
+
+"No," resumed Gabriel, with increasing warmth; "no you have determined
+to shed his blood, and you will shed it, even in the Lord's temple. It
+is, you say, your right. You are doing an act of terrible justice. But
+why then, so many vigorous arms to make an end of one dying man? Why
+these outcries? this fury? this violence? Is it thus that the people,
+the strong and equitable people, are wont to execute their judgments?
+No, no; when sure of their right, they strike their enemies, it is
+with the calmness of the judge, who, in freedom of soul and conscience,
+passes sentence. No, the strong and equitable people do not deal their
+blows like men blind or mad, uttering cries of rage, as if to drown the
+sense of some cowardly and horrible murder. No, it is not thus that they
+exercise the formidable right, to which you now lay claim--for you will
+have it--"
+
+"Yes, we will have it!" shouted the quarryman, Ciboule, and others of
+the more pitiless portion of the mob; whilst a great number remained
+silent, struck with the words of Gabriel, who had just painted to them,
+in such lively colors, the frightful act they were about to commit.
+
+"Yes," resumed the quarryman, "it is our right; we have determined to
+kill the poisoner!"
+
+So saying, and with bloodshot eyes, and flushed cheek, the wretch
+advanced at the head of a resolute group, making a gesture as though he
+would have pushed aside Gabriel, who was still standing in front of the
+railing. But instead of resisting the bandit, the missionary advanced
+a couple of steps to meet him, took him by the arm, and said in a firm
+voice: "Come!"
+
+And dragging, as it were, with him the stupefied quarryman, whose
+companions did not venture to follow at the moment, struck dumb as they
+were by this new incident, Gabriel rapidly traversed the space which
+separated him from the choir, opened the iron gate, and, still holding
+the quarryman by the arm, led him up to the prostrate form of Father
+d'Aigrigny, and said to him: "There is the victim. He is condemned.
+Strike!"
+
+"I" cried the quarryman, hesitating; "I--all alone!"
+
+"Oh!" replied Gabriel, with bitterness, "there is no danger. You can
+easily finish him. Look! he is broken down with suffering; he has hardly
+a breath of life left; he will make no resistance. Do not be afraid!"
+
+The quarryman remained motionless, whilst the crowd, strangely impressed
+with this incident, approached a little nearer the railing, without
+daring to come within the gate.
+
+"Strike then!" resumed Gabriel, addressing the quarryman, whilst he
+pointed to the crowd with a solemn gesture; "there are the judges; you
+are the executioner."
+
+"No!" cried the quarryman, drawing back, and turning away his eyes; "I'm
+not the executioner--not I!"
+
+The crowd remained silent. For a few moments, not a word, not a cry,
+disturbed the stillness of the solemn cathedral. In a desperate case,
+Gabriel had acted with a profound knowledge of the human heart. When the
+multitude, inflamed with blind rage, rushes with ferocious clamor upon
+a single victim, and each man strikes his blow, this dreadful species of
+combined murder appears less horrible to each, because they all share in
+the common crime; and then the shouts, the sight of blood, the desperate
+defence of the man they massacre, finish by producing a sort of
+ferocious intoxication; but, amongst all those furious madmen, who take
+part in the homicide, select one, and place him face to face with the
+victim, no longer capable of resistance, and say to him, "Strike!"--he
+will hardly ever dare to do so.
+
+It was thus with the quarryman; the wretch trembled at the idea of
+committing a murder in cold blood, "all alone." The preceding scene had
+passed very rapidly; amongst the companions of the quarryman, nearest
+to the railing, some did not understand an impression, which they would
+themselves have felt as strongly as this bold man, if it had been said
+to them: "Do the office of executioner!" These, therefore, began to
+murmur aloud at his weakness. "He dares not finish the poisoner," said
+one.
+
+"The coward!"
+
+"He is afraid."
+
+"He draws back." Hearing these words, the quarryman ran to the gate,
+threw it wide open, and, pointing to Father d'Aigrigny, exclaimed: "If
+there is one here braver than I am, let him go and finish the job--let
+him be, the executioner--come!"
+
+On this proposal the murmurs ceased. A deep silence reigned once more in
+the cathedral. All those countenances, but now so furious, became sad,
+confused, almost frightened.
+
+The deluded mob began to appreciate the ferocious cowardice of the
+action it had been about to commit. Not one durst go alone to strike the
+half expiring man. Suddenly, Father d'Aigrigny uttered a dying rattle,
+his head and one of his arms stirred with a convulsive movement, and
+then fell back upon the stones as if he had just expired.
+
+Gabriel uttered a cry of anguish, and threw himself on his knees close
+to Father d'Aigrigny, exclaiming: "Great Heaven! he is dead!"
+
+There is a singular variableness in the mind of a crowd, susceptible
+alike to good or evil impressions. At the heart-piercing cry of Gabriel,
+all these people, who, a moment before, had demanded, with loud uproar,
+the massacre of this man, felt touched with a sudden pity. The words:
+"He is dead!" circulated in low whispers through the crowd accompanied
+by a slight shudder, whilst Gabriel raised with one hand the victim's
+heavy head, and with the other sought to feel if the pulse still beat
+beneath the ice-cold skin.
+
+"Mr. Curate," said the quarryman, bending towards Gabriel, "is there
+really no hope?"
+
+The answer was waited for with anxiety, in the midst of deep silence.
+The people hardly ventured to exchange a few words in whispers.
+
+"Blessed be God!" exclaimed Gabriel, suddenly. "His heart beats."
+
+"His heart beats," repeated the quarryman, turning his head towards the
+crowd, to inform them of the good news.
+
+"Oh! his heart beats!" repeated the others, in whispers.
+
+"There is hope. We may yet save him," added Gabriel with an expression
+of indescribable happiness.
+
+"We may yet save him," repeated the quarryman, mechanically.
+
+"We may yet save him," muttered the crowd.
+
+"Quick, quick," resumed Gabriel, addressing the quarryman; "help me,
+brother. Let us carry him to a neighboring house, where he can have
+immediate aid."
+
+The quarryman obeyed with readiness. Whilst the missionary lifted Father
+d'Aigrigny by holding him under the arms, the quarryman took the legs
+of the almost inanimate body. Together, they carried him outside of the
+choir. At sight of the formidable quarryman, aiding the young priest
+to render assistance to the man whom he had just before pursued with
+menaces of death, the multitude felt a sudden thrill of compassion.
+Yielding to the powerful influence of the words and example of Gabriel,
+they felt themselves deeply moved, and each became anxious to offer
+services.
+
+"Mr. Curate, he would perhaps be better on a chair, that one could carry
+upright," said Ciboule.
+
+"Shall I go and fetch a stretcher from the hospital?" asked another.
+
+"Mr. Curate, let me take your place; the body is too heavy for you."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," said a powerful man, approaching the
+missionary respectfully; "I can carry him alone."
+
+"Shall I run and fetch a coach, Mr. Curate?" said a young vagabond,
+taking off his red cap.
+
+"Right," said the quarryman; "run away, my buck!"
+
+"But first, ask Mr. Curate if you are to go for a coach," said Ciboule,
+stopping the impatient messenger.
+
+"True," added one of the bystanders; "we are here in a church, and Mr.
+Curate has the command. He is at home."
+
+"Yes, yes; go at once, my child," said Gabriel to the obliging young
+vagabond.
+
+Whilst the latter was making his way through the crowd, a voice said:
+"I've a little wicker-bottle of brandy; will that be of any use?"
+
+"No doubt," answered Gabriel, hastily; "pray give it here. We can rub
+his temples with the spirit, and make him inhale a little."
+
+"Pass the bottle," cried Ciboule; "but don't put your noses in it!"
+And, passed with caution from hand to hand, the flask reached Gabriel in
+safety.
+
+Whilst waiting for the coming of the coach, Father d'Aigrigny had
+been seated on a chair. Whilst several good-natured people carefully
+supported the abbe, the missionary made him inhale a little brandy. In a
+few minutes, the spirit had a powerful influence on the Jesuit; he made
+some slight movements, and his oppressed bosom heaved with a deep sigh.
+
+"He is saved--he will live," cried Gabriel, in a triumphant voice; "he
+will live, my brothers!"
+
+"Oh! glad to hear it!" exclaimed many voices.
+
+"Oh, yes! be glad, my brothers!" repeated Gabriel; "for, instead of
+being weighed down with the remorse of crime, you will have a just and
+charitable action to remember. Let us thank God, that he has changed
+your blind fury into a sentiment of compassion! Let us pray to Him, that
+neither you, nor those you love, may ever be exposed to such frightful
+danger as this unfortunate man has just escaped. Oh, my brothers!" added
+Gabriel, as he pointed to the image of Christ with touching emotion,
+which communicated itself the more easily to others from the expression
+of his angelic countenance; "oh, my brothers! let us never forget, that
+HE, who died upon that cross for the defence of the oppressed, for
+the obscure children of the people like to ourselves, pronounced those
+affectionate words so sweet to the heart; 'Love ye one another!'--Let
+us never forget it; let us love and help one another, and we poor
+people shall then become better, happier, just. Love--yes, love ye one
+another--and fall prostrate before that Saviour, who is the God of all
+that are weak, oppressed, and suffering in this world!"
+
+So saying, Gabriel knelt down. All present respectfully followed his
+example, such power was there in his simple and persuasive words. At
+this moment, a singular incident added to the grandeur of the scene. We
+have said that a few seconds before the quarryman and his band entered
+the body of the church, several persons had fled from it. Two of these
+had taken refuge in the organ-loft, from which retreat they had viewed
+the preceding scene, themselves remaining invisible. One of these
+persons was a young man charged with the care of the organ, and quite
+musician enough to play on it. Deeply moved by the unexpected turn of an
+event which at first appeared so tragical, and yielding to an artistical
+inspiration, this young man, at the moment when he saw the people
+kneeling with Gabriel, could not forbear striking the notes. Then a sort
+of harmonious sigh, at first almost insensible, seemed to rise from the
+midst of this immense cathedral, like a divine aspiration. As soft and
+aerial as the balmy vapor of incense, it mounted and spread through the
+lofty arches. Little by little the faint, sweet sounds, though still as
+it were covered, changed to an exquisite melody, religious, melancholy,
+and affectionate, which rose to heaven like a song of ineffable
+gratitude and love. And the notes were at first so faint, so covered,
+that the kneeling multitude had scarcely felt surprise, and had yielded
+insensibly to the irresistible influence of that enchanting harmony.
+
+Then many an eye, until now dry and ferocious, became wet with
+tears--many hard hearts beat gently, as they remembered the words
+pronounced by Gabriel with so tender an accent: "Love ye one another!"
+It was at this moment that Father d'Aigrigny came to himself--and opened
+his eyes. He thought himself under the influence of a dream. He had
+lost his senses in sight of a furious populace, who, with insult and
+blasphemy on their lips, pursued him with cries of death even to the
+sanctuary of the temple. He opened his eyes--and, by the pale light of
+the sacred lamps, to the solemn music of the organ, he saw that crowd,
+just now so menacing and implacable, kneeling in mute and reverential
+emotion, and humbly bowing their heads before the majesty of the shrine.
+
+Some minutes after, Gabriel, carried almost in triumph on the shoulders
+of the crowd, entered the coach, in which Father d'Aigrigny, who by
+degrees had completely recovered his senses, was already reclining. By
+the order of the Jesuit, the coach stopped before the door of a house
+in the Rue de Vaugirard; he had the strength and courage to enter this
+dwelling alone; Gabriel was not admitted, but we shall conduct the
+reader thither.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. THE PATIENT.
+
+At the end of the Rue de Vaugirard, there was then a very high wall,
+with only one small doorway in all its length. On opening this door,
+you entered a yard surrounded by a railing, with screens like Venetian
+blinds, to prevent your seeing between the rails. Crossing this
+courtyard, you come to a fine large garden, symmetrically planted, at
+the end of which stood a building two stories high, looking perfectly
+comfortable, without luxury, but with all that cozy simplicity which
+betokens discreet opulence. A few days had elapsed since Father
+d'Aigrigny had been so courageously rescued by Gabriel from the popular
+fury. Three ecclesiastics, wearing black gowns, white bands, and square
+caps, were walking in the garden with a slow and measured step. The
+youngest seemed to be about thirty years of age; his countenance was
+pale, hollow, and impressed with a certain ascetic austerity. His two
+companions, aged between fifty or sixty, had, on the contrary, faces at
+once hypocritical and cunning; their round, rosy cheeks shone brightly
+in the sunshine, whilst their triple chins, buried in fat, descended in
+soft folds over the fine cambric of their bands. According to the rules
+of their order (they belonged to the Society of Jesus), which forbade
+their walking only two together, these three members of the brotherhood
+never quitted each other a moment.
+
+"I fear," said one of the two, continuing a conversation already begun,
+and speaking of an absent person, "I fear, that the continual agitation
+to which the reverend father has been a prey, ever since he was attacked
+with the cholera, has exhausted his strength, and caused the dangerous
+relapse which now makes us fear for his life."
+
+"They say," resumed the other, "that never was there seen anxiety like
+to his."
+
+"And moreover," remarked the young priest, bitterly, "it is painful to
+think, that his reverence Father Rodin has given cause for scandal,
+by obstinately refusing to make a public confession, the day before
+yesterday when his situation appeared so desperate, that, between two
+fits of a delirium, it was thought right to propose to him to receive
+the last sacraments."
+
+"His reverence declared that he was not so ill as they supposed,"
+answered one of the fathers, "and that he would have the last duties
+performed when he thought necessary."
+
+"The fact is, that for the last ten days, ever since he was brought here
+dying, his life has been, as it were, only a long and painful agony; and
+yet he continues to live."
+
+"I watched by him during the first three days of his malady, with M.
+Rousselet, the pupil of Dr. Baleinier," resumed the youngest father; "he
+had hardly a moment's consciousness, and when the Lord did grant him
+a lucid interval, he employed it in detestable execrations against the
+fate which had confined him to his bed."
+
+"It is said," resumed the other, "that Father Rodin made answer to
+his Eminence Cardinal Malipieri, who came to persuade him to die in an
+exemplary manner, worthy of a son of Loyola, our blessed founder"--at
+these words, the three Jesuits bowed their heads together, as if they
+had been all moved by the same spring--"it is said, that Father Rodin
+made answer to his eminence: 'I do not need to confess publicly; I WANT
+TO LIVE, AND I WILL LIVE.'"
+
+"I did not hear that," said the young priest, with an indignant air;
+"but if Father Rodin really made use of such expressions, it is--"
+
+Here, no doubt, reflection came to him just in time, for he stole a
+sidelong glance at his two silent, impassible companions, and added: "It
+is a great misfortune for his soul; but I am certain, his reverence has
+been slandered."
+
+"It was only as a calumnious report, that I mentioned those words," said
+the other priest, exchanging a glance with his companion.
+
+One of the garden gates opened, and one of the three reverend fathers
+exclaimed, at the sight of the personage who now entered: "Oh! here is
+his Eminence Cardinal Malipieri, coming to pay a visit to Father Rodin."
+
+"May this visit of his eminence," said the young priest, calmly, "be
+more profitable to Father Rodin than the last!"
+
+Cardinal Malipieri was crossing the garden, on his way to the apartment
+occupied by Rodin.
+
+Cardinal Malipieri, whom we saw assisting at the sort of council held at
+the Princess de Saint-Dizier's, now on his way to Rodin's apartment, was
+dressed as a layman, but enveloped in an ample pelisse of puce-colored
+satin, which exhaled a strong odor of camphor, for the prelate had
+taken care to surround himself with all sorts of anti-cholera specifics.
+Having reached the second story of the house, the cardinal knocked at
+a little gray door. Nobody answering, he opened it, and, like a man to
+whom the locality was well known, passed through a sort of antechamber,
+and entered a room in which was a turn-up bed. On a black wood table
+were many phials, which had contained different medicines. The prelate's
+countenance seemed uneasy and morose; his complexion was still yellow
+and bilious; the brown circle which surrounded his black, squinting eyes
+appeared still darker than usual.
+
+Pausing a moment, he looked round him almost in fear, and several times
+stopped to smell at his anti-cholera bottle. Then, seeing he was alone,
+he approached a glass over the chimney-piece, and examined with much
+attention the color of his tongue; after some minutes spent in this
+careful investigation, with the result of which he appeared tolerably
+satisfied, he took some preservative lozenges out of a golden box, and
+allowed them to melt in his mouth, whilst he closed his eyes with a
+sanctified air. Having taken these sanitary precautions, and again
+pressed his bottle to his nose, the prelate prepared to enter the third
+room, when he heard a tolerably loud noise through the thin partition
+which separated him from it, and, stopping to listen, all that was said
+in the next apartment easily reached his ear.
+
+"Now that my wounds are dressed, I will get up," said weak, but sharp
+and imperious voice.
+
+"Do not think of it, reverend father," was answered in a stronger tone;
+"it is impossible."
+
+"You shall see if it is impossible," replied the other voice.
+
+"But, reverend father, you will kill yourself. You are not in a state to
+get up. You will expose yourself to a mortal relapse. I cannot consent
+to it."
+
+To these words succeeded the noise of a faint struggle, mingled with
+groans more angry than plaintive, and the voice resumed: "No, no,
+father; for your own safety, I will not leave your clothes within your
+reach. It is almost time for your medicine; I will go and prepare it for
+you."
+
+Almost immediately after, the door opened, and the prelate saw enter a
+man of about twenty-five years of age, carrying on his arm an old olive
+great-coat and threadbare black trousers, which he threw down upon a
+chair.
+
+This personage was Ange Modeste Rousselet, chief pupil of Dr. Baleinier;
+the countenance of the young practitioner was mild, humble, and
+reserved; his hair, very short in front, flowed down upon his neck
+behind. He made a slight start in surprise on perceiving the cardinal,
+and bowed twice very low, without raising his eyes.
+
+"Before anything else," said the prelate, with his marked Italian
+accent, still holding to his nose his bottle of camphor, "have any
+choleraic symptoms returned?"
+
+"No, my lord; the pernicious fever, which succeeded the attack of
+cholera, still continues."
+
+"Very good. But will not the reverend father be reasonable? What was the
+noise that I just heard?"
+
+"His reverence wished absolutely to get up and dress himself; but his
+weakness is so great, that he could not have taken two steps from the
+bed. He is devoured by impatience, and we fear that this agitation will
+cause a mortal relapse."
+
+"Has Dr. Baleinier been here this morning?"
+
+"He has just left, my lord."
+
+"What does he think of the patient?"
+
+"He finds him in the most alarming state, my lord. The night was so bad,
+that he was extremely uneasy this morning. Father Rodin is at one of
+those critical junctures, when a few hours may decide the life or death
+of the patient. Dr. Baleinier is now gone to fetch what is necessary for
+a very painful operation, which he is about to perform on the reverend
+father."
+
+"Has Father d'Aigrigny been told of this?"
+
+"Father d'Aigrigny is himself very unwell, as your eminence knows; he
+has not been able to leave his bed for the last three days."
+
+"I inquired about him as I came up," answered the prelate, "and I shall
+see him directly. But, to return to Father Rodin, have you sent for
+his confessor, since he is in a desperate state, and about to undergo a
+serious operation?"
+
+"Dr. Baleinier spoke a word to him about it, as well as about the last
+sacraments; but Father Rodin exclaimed, with great irritation, that they
+did not leave him a moment's peace, that he had as much care as any one
+for his salvation, and that--"
+
+"Per Bacco! I am not thinking of him," cried the cardinal, interrupting
+Ange Modeste Rousselet with his pagan oath, and raising his sharp voice
+to a still higher key; "I am not thinking of him, but of the interests
+of the Company. It is indispensable that the reverend father should
+receive the sacraments with the most splendid solemnity, and that his
+end should not only be Christian, but exemplary. All the people in the
+house, and even strangers, should be invited to the spectacle, so that
+his edifying death may produce an excellent sensation."
+
+"That is what Fathers Grison and Brunet have already endeavored to
+persuade his reverence, my lord; but your Eminence knows with what
+impatience Father Rodin received this advice, and Dr. Baleinier did not
+venture to persist, for fear of advancing a fatal crisis."
+
+"Well, I will venture to do it; for in these times of revolutionary
+impiety, a solemnly Christian death would produce a very salutary
+effect on the public. It would indeed be proper to make the necessary
+preparations to embalm the reverend father: he might then lie in state
+for some days, with lighted tapers, according to Romish custom. My
+secretary would furnish the design for the bier; it would be very
+splendid and imposing; from his position in the Order, Father Rodin is
+entitled to have everything in the most sumptuous style. He must have at
+least six hundred tapers, and a dozen funeral lamps, burning spirits of
+wine, to hang just over the body, and light it from above: the effect
+would be excellent. We must also distribute little tracts to the people,
+concerning the pious and ascetic life of his reverence--"
+
+Here a sudden noise, like that of some piece of metal thrown angrily on
+the floor, was heard from the next room, in which was the sick man, and
+interrupted the prelate in his description.
+
+"I hope Father Rodin has not heard you talk of embalming him, my lord,"
+said Rousselet, in a whisper: "his bed touches the partition, and almost
+everything is audible through it."
+
+"If Father Rodin has heard me," answered the cardinal, sinking his
+voice, and retiring to the other end of the room, "this circumstance
+will enable me to enter at once on the business; but, in any case,
+I persist in believing that the embalming and the lying in state are
+required to make a good effect upon the public. The people are already
+frightened at the cholera, and such funeral pomp would have no small
+influence on the imagination."
+
+"I would venture to observe to your Eminence, that here the laws are
+opposed to such exhibitions."
+
+"The laws--already the laws!" said the cardinal, angrily; "has not Rome
+also her laws? And is not every priest a subject of Rome? Is it not
+time--"
+
+But, not choosing, doubtless, to begin a more explicit conversation with
+the young doctor, the prelate resumed, "We will talk of this hereafter.
+But, tell me, since my last visit, has the reverend father had any fresh
+attacks of delirium?"
+
+"Yes, my lord; here is the note, as your Eminence commanded." So saying
+Rousselet delivered a paper to the prelate. We will inform the reader
+that this part of the conversation between Rousselet and the cardinal
+was carried on at a distance from the partition, so that Rodin could
+hear nothing of it, whilst that which related to the embalming had been
+perfectly audible to him.
+
+The cardinal, having received the note from Rousselet, perused it with
+an expression of lively curiosity. When he had finished, he crumpled
+it in his hand, and said, without attempting to dissemble his vexation,
+"Always nothing but incoherent expression. Not two words together, from
+which you can draw any reasonable conclusion. One would really think
+this man had the power to control himself even in his delirium, and to
+rave about insignificant matters only."
+
+Then, addressing Rousselet, "You are sure that you have reported
+everything that escaped from him during his delirium?"
+
+"With the exception of the same phrases, that he repeated over and over
+again, your Eminence may be assured that I have not omitted a single
+word, however unmeaning."
+
+"Show me into Father Rodin's room," said the prelate, after a moment's
+silence.
+
+"But, my lord," answered the young doctor, with some hesitation, "the
+fit has only left him about an hour, and the reverend father is still
+very weak."
+
+"The more the reason," replied the prelate, somewhat indiscreetly.
+Then, recollecting himself, he added, "He will the better appreciate
+the consolations I have to offer. Should he be asleep, awake him, and
+announce my visit."
+
+"I have only orders to receive from your Eminence," said Rousselet,
+bowing, and entering the next room.
+
+Left alone, the cardinal said to himself, with a pensive air, "I always
+come back to that. When he was suddenly attacked by the cholera, Father
+Rodin believed himself poisoned by order of the Holy See. He must then
+have been plotting something very formidable against Rome, to entertain
+so abominable a fear. Can our suspicions be well founded? Is he acting
+secretly and powerfully on the Sacred College? But then for what end?
+This it has been impossible to penetrate, so faithfully has the secret
+been kept by his accomplices. I had hoped that, during his delirium, he
+would let slip some word that would put us on the trace of what we are
+so much interested to discover. With so restless and active a mind,
+delirium is often the exaggeration of some dominant idea; yet here I
+have the report of five different fits--and nothing--no, nothing but
+vague, unconnected phrases."
+
+The return of Rousselet put an end to these reflections. "I am sorry to
+inform my lord that the reverend father obstinately refuses to see any
+one. He says that he requires absolute repose. Though very weak, he has
+a savage and angry look, and I should not be surprised if he overheard
+your Eminence talk about embalming him."
+
+The cardinal, interrupting Rousselet, said to him, "Did Father Rodin
+have his last fit of delirium in the night?"
+
+"Between three and half-past five this morning, my lord."
+
+"Between three and half-past five," repeated the prelate, as if he
+wished to impress this circumstance on his memory, "the attack presented
+no particular symptoms?"
+
+"No, my lord; it consisted of rambling, incoherent talk, as your
+Eminence may see by this note."
+
+Then, as he perceived the prelate approaching Father Rodin's door,
+Rousselet added, "The reverend father will positively see no one,
+my lord; he requires rest, to prepare for the operation; it might be
+dangerous--"
+
+Without attending to these observations, the cardinal entered Rodin's
+chamber. It was a tolerably large room, lighted by two windows, and
+simply but commodiously furnished. Two logs were burning slowly in the
+fireplace, in which stood a coffee-pot, a vessel containing mustard
+poultice, etc. On the chimney-piece were several pieces of rag, and some
+linen bandages. The room was full of that faint chemical odor peculiar
+to the chambers of the sick, mingled with so putrid a stench, that the
+cardinal stopped at the door a moment, before he ventured to advance
+further. As the three reverend fathers had mentioned in their walk,
+Rodin lived because he had said to himself, "I want to live, and I will
+live."
+
+For, as men of timid imaginations and cowardly minds often die from the
+mere dread of dying, so a thousand facts prove that vigor of character
+and moral energy may often struggle successfully against disease, and
+triumph over the most desperate symptoms.
+
+It was thus with the Jesuit. The unshaken firmness of his character, the
+formidable tenacity of his will (for the will has sometimes a mysterious
+and almost terrific power), aiding the skillful treatment of Dr.
+Baleinier, had saved him from the pestilence with which he had been so
+suddenly attacked. But the shock had been succeeded by a violent fever,
+which placed Rodin's life in the utmost peril. This increased danger had
+caused the greatest alarm to Father d'Aigrigny, who felt, in spite of
+his rivalry and jealousy, that Rodin was the master-spirit of the plot
+in which they were engaged, and could alone conduct it to a successful
+issue.
+
+The curtains of the room was half closed, and admitted only a doubtful
+light to the bed on which Rodin was lying. The Jesuit's features
+had lost the greenish hue peculiar to cholera patients, but remained
+perfectly livid and cadaverous, and so thin, that the dry, rugged skin
+appeared to cling to the smallest prominence of bone. The muscles and
+veins of the long, lean, vulture-like neck resembled a bundle of cords.
+The head, covered with an old, black, filthy nightcap, from beneath
+which strayed a few thin, gray hairs, rested upon a dirty pillow; for
+Rodin would not allow them to change his linen. His iron-gray beard had
+not been shaved for some time, and stood out like the hairs of a brush.
+Under his shirt he wore an old flannel waistcoat full of holes. He had
+one of his arms out of bed, and his bony hairy hand, with its bluish
+nails, held fast a cotton handkerchief of indescribable color.
+
+You might have taken him for a corpse, had it not been for the two
+brilliant sparks which still burned in the depths of his eyes. In that
+look, in which seemed concentrated all the remaining life and energy
+of the man, you might read the most restless anxiety. Sometimes his
+features revealed the sharpest pangs; sometimes the twisting of his
+hands, and his sudden starts, proclaimed his despair at being thus
+fettered to a bed of pain, whilst the serious interests which he had
+in charge required all the activity of his mind. Thus, with thoughts
+continually on the stretch, his mind often wandered, and he had fits
+of delirium, from which he woke as from a painful dream. By the prudent
+advice of Dr. Baleinier, who considered him not in a state to attend to
+matters of--importance, Father d'Aigrigny had hitherto evaded Rodin's
+questions with regard to the Rennepont affair, which he dreaded to see
+lost and ruined in consequence of his forced inaction. The silence of
+Father d'Aigrigny on this head, and the ignorance in which they kept
+him, only augmented the sick man's exasperation. Such was the moral and
+physical state of Rodin, when Cardinal Malipieri entered his chamber
+against his will.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE LURE.
+
+To understand fully the tortures of Rodin, reduced to inactivity by
+sickness, and to explain the importance of Cardinal Malipieri's visit,
+we must remember the audacious views of the ambitious Jesuit, who
+believed himself following in the steps of Sixtus V., and expected to
+become his equal. By the success of the Rennepont affair, to attain to
+the generalship of his Order, by the corruption of the Sacred College
+to ascend the pontifical throne, and then, by means of a change in the
+statutes of the Company, to incorporate the Society of Jesus with the
+Holy See, instead of leaving it independent, to equal and almost always
+rule the Papacy--such were the secret projects of Rodin.
+
+Their possibility was sanctioned by numerous precedents, for many mere
+monks and priests had been suddenly raised to the pontifical dignity.
+And as for their morality, the accession of the Borgias, of Julius
+II., and other dubious Vicars of Christ, might excuse and authorize the
+pretensions of the Jesuits.
+
+Though the object of his secret intrigues at Rome had hitherto been
+enveloped in the greatest mystery, suspicions had been excited in regard
+to his private communications with many members of the Sacred College.
+A portion of that college, Cardinal Malipieri at the head of them, had
+become very uneasy on the subject, and, profiting by his journey
+to France, the cardinal had resolved to penetrate the Jesuit's dark
+designs. If, in the scene we have just painted, the cardinal showed
+himself so obstinately bent on having a conference with Rodin, in spite
+of the refusal of the latter, it was because the prelate hoped, as we
+shall soon see, to get by cunning at the secret, which had hitherto
+been so well concealed. It was, therefore, in the midst of all these
+extraordinary circumstances, that Rodin saw himself the victim of a
+malady, which paralyzed his strength, at the moment when he had need of
+all his activity, and of all the resources of his mind. After remaining
+for some seconds motionless near the door, the cardinal, still holding
+his bottle under his nose, slowly approached the bed where Rodin lay.
+
+The latter, enraged at this perseverance, and wishing to avoid an
+interview which for many reasons was singularly odious to him, turned
+his face towards the wall, and pretended to be asleep. Caring little for
+this feint, and determined to profit by Rodin's state of weakness, the
+prelate took a chair, and, conquering his repugnance, sat down close to
+the Jesuit's bed.
+
+"My reverend and very dear father, how do you find yourself?" said he to
+him, in a honeyed tone, which his Italian accent seemed to render still
+more hypocritical. Rodin pretended not to hear, breathed hard, and made
+no answer. But the cardinal, not without disgust, shook with his gloved
+hand the arm of the Jesuit, and repeated in a louder voice: "My reverend
+and very dear father, answer me, I conjure you!"
+
+Rodin could not restrain a movement of angry impatience, but he
+continued silent. The cardinal was not a man to be discouraged by so
+little; he again shook the arm of the Jesuit, somewhat more roughly,
+repeating, with a passionless tenacity that would have incensed the most
+patient person in the world: "My reverend and very dear father, since
+you are not asleep, listen to me, I entreat of you."
+
+Irritable with pain, exasperated by the obstinacy of the prelate, Rodin
+abruptly turned his head, fixed on the Roman his hollow eyes, shining
+with lurid fire, and, with lips contracted by a sardonic smile, said to
+him, bitterly: "You must be very anxious, my lord, to see me embalmed,
+and lie in state with tapers, as you were saying just now, for you thus
+to come to torment me in my last moments, and hasten my end!"
+
+"Oh, my good father! how can you talk so?" cried the cardinal, raising
+his hands as if to call heaven to witness to the sincerity of the tender
+interest he felt for the Jesuit.
+
+"I tell you that I heard all just now, my lord; for the partition is
+thin," added Rodin, with redoubled bitterness.
+
+"If you mean that, from the bottom of my soul, I desired that you should
+make an exemplary and Christian end, you are perfectly right, my dear
+father. I did say so; for, after a life so well employed, it would be
+sweet to see you an object of adoration for the faithful!"
+
+"I tell you, my lord," cried Rodin, in a weak and broken voice, "that
+it is ferocious to express such wishes in the presence of a dying man.
+Yes," he added, with growing animation, that contrasted strongly with
+his weakness, "take care what you do; for if I am too much plagued and
+pestered--if I am not allowed to breathe my last breath quietly--I give
+you notice that you will force me to die in anything but a Christian
+manner, and if you mean to profit by an edifying spectacle, you will be
+deceived."
+
+This burst of anger having greatly fatigued Rodin, his head fell back
+upon the pillow, and he wiped his cracked and bleeding lips with his old
+cotton handkerchief.
+
+"Come, come, be calm, my very dear father," resumed the cardinal, with
+a patronizing air; "do not give way to such gloomy ideas. Doubtless,
+Providence reserves you for great designs, since you have been already
+delivered from so much peril. Let us hope that you will be likewise
+saved from your present danger."
+
+Rodin answered by a hoarse growl, and turned his face towards the wall.
+
+The imperturbable prelate continued: "The views of Providence are not
+confined to your salvation, my very dear father. Its power has been
+manifested in another way. What I am about to tell you is of the highest
+importance. Listen attentively."
+
+Without turning his head, Rodin muttered in a tone of angry bitterness,
+which betrayed his intense sufferings: "They desire my death. My chest
+is on fire, my head racked with pain, and they have no pity. Oh, I
+suffer the tortures of the damned!"
+
+"What! already" thought the Roman, with a smile of sarcastic malice;
+then he said aloud: "Let me persuade you, my very dear father--make an
+effort to listen to me; you will not regret it."
+
+Still stretched upon the bed, Rodin lifted his hands clasped upon his
+cotton handkerchief with a gesture of despair, and then let them fall
+again by his side.
+
+The cardinal slightly shrugged his shoulders, and laid great stress
+on what follows, so that Rodin might not lose a word of it: "My dear
+father, it has pleased Providence that, during your fit of raving, you
+have made, without knowing it, the most important revelations."
+
+The prelate waited with anxious curiosity for the effect of the pious
+trap he had laid for the Jesuit's weakened faculties. But the latter,
+still turned towards the wall, did not appear to have heard him and
+remained silent.
+
+"You are, no doubt, reflecting on my words, my dear father," resumed
+the cardinal; "you are right, for it concerns a very serious affair. I
+repeat to you that Providence has allowed you, during your delirium, to
+betray your most secret thoughts--happily, to me alone. They are such
+as would compromise you in the highest degree. In short, during your
+delirium of last night, which lasted nearly two hours, you unveiled the
+secret objects of your intrigues at Rome with many of the members of the
+Sacred College."
+
+The cardinal, rising softly, stooped over the bed to watch the
+expression of Rodin's countenance. But the latter did not give him time.
+As a galvanized corpse starts into strange and sudden motion, Rodin
+sprang into a sitting posture at the last words of the prelate.
+
+"He has betrayed himself," said the cardinal, in a low voice, in
+Italian. Then, resuming his seat, he fixed on the Jesuit his eyes, that
+sparkled with triumphant joy.
+
+Though he did not hear the exclamation of Malipieri, nor remark the
+expression of his countenance, Rodin, notwithstanding his state of
+weakness, instantly felt the imprudence of his start. He pressed his
+hand to his forehead, as though he had been seized with a giddiness;
+then, looking wildly round him, he pressed to his trembling lips his old
+cotton handkerchief, and gnawed it mechanically for some seconds.
+
+"Your emotion and alarm confirm the sad discoveries I have made,"
+resumed the cardinal, still more rejoicing at the success of his trick;
+"and now, my dear father," added he, "you will understand that it is
+for your best interest to enter into the most minute detail as to your
+projects and accomplices at Rome. You may then hope, my dear father,
+for the indulgence of the Holy See--that is, if your avowals are
+sufficiently explicit to fill up the chasms necessarily left in a
+confession made during delirium."
+
+Rodin, recovered from his first surprise, perceived, but too late, that
+he had fallen into a snare, not by any words he had spoken, but by his
+too significant movements. In fact, the Jesuit had feared for a moment
+that he might have betrayed himself during his delirium, when he heard
+himself accused of dark intrigues with Rome; but, after some minutes of
+reflection, his common sense suggested: "If this crafty Roman knew my
+secret, he would take care not to tell me so. He has only suspicions,
+confirmed by my involuntary start just now."
+
+Rodin wiped the cold sweat from his burning forehead. The emotion of
+this scene augmented his sufferings, and aggravated the danger of his
+condition. Worn out with fatigue, he could not remain long in a sitting
+posture, and soon fell back upon the bed.
+
+"Per Bacco!" said the cardinal to himself, alarmed at the expression
+of the Jesuit's face; "if he were to die before he had spoken, and so
+escape the snare!"
+
+Then, leaning over the bed, the prelate asked: "What is the matter, my
+very dear father?"
+
+"I am weak, my lord--I am in pain--I cannot express what I suffer."
+
+"Let us hope, my very dear father, that this crisis will have no fatal
+results; but the contrary may happen, and it behooves the salvation
+of your soul to make instantly the fullest confession. Were it even to
+exhaust your strength, what is this perishable body compared to eternal
+life?"
+
+"Of what confession do you speak, my lord?" said Rodin, in a feeble and
+yet sarcastic tone.
+
+"What confession!" cried the amazed cardinal; "why, with regard to your
+dangerous intrigues at Rome."
+
+"What intrigues?" asked Rodin.
+
+"The intrigues you revealed during your delirium," replied the prelate,
+with still more angry impatience. "Were not your avowals sufficiently
+explicit? Why, then, this culpable hesitation to complete them?"
+
+"My avowals--were explicit--you assure me?" said Rodin, pausing after
+each word for want of breath, but without losing his energy and presence
+of mind.
+
+"Yes, I repeat it," resumed the cardinal; "with the exception of a few
+chasms, they were most explicit."
+
+"Then why repeat them?" said Rodin, with the same sardonic smile on his
+violet lips.
+
+"Why repeat them?" cried the angry prelate. "In order to gain pardon;
+for if there is indulgence and mercy for the repentant sinner, there
+must be condemnation and curses for the hardened criminal!"
+
+"Oh, what torture! I am dying by slow fire!" murmured Rodin. "Since I
+have told all," he resumed, "I have nothing more to tell. You know it
+already."
+
+"I know all--doubtless, I know all," replied the prelate, in a voice of
+thunder; "but how have I learned it? By confessions made in a state
+of unconsciousness. Do you think they will avail you anything? No; the
+moment is solemn--death is at hand, tremble to die with a sacrilegious
+falsehood on your lips," cried the prelate, shaking Rodin violently by
+the arm; "dread the eternal flames, if you dare deny what you know to be
+the truth. Do you deny it?"
+
+"I deny nothing," murmured Rodin, with difficulty. "Only leave me
+alone!"
+
+"Then heaven inspires you," said the cardinal, with a sigh of
+satisfaction; and, thinking he had nearly attained his object, he
+resumed, "Listen to the divine word, that will guide you, father. You
+deny nothing?"
+
+"I was--delirious--and cannot--(oh! how I suffer!)" added Rodin, by way
+of parenthesis; "and cannot therefore--deny--the nonsense--I may have
+uttered!"
+
+"But when this nonsense agrees with the truth," cried the prelate,
+furious at being again deceived in his expectation; "but when raving is
+an involuntary, providential revelation--"
+
+"Cardinal Malipieri--your craft is no match--for my agony," answered
+Rodin, in a failing voice. "The proof--that I have not told my
+secret--if I have a secret--is--that you want to make me tell it!" In
+spite of his pain and weakness, the Jesuit had courage to raise himself
+in the bed, and look the cardinal full in the face, with a smile of
+bitter irony. After which he fell back on the pillow, and pressed his
+hands to his chest, with a long sigh of anguish.
+
+"Damnation! the infernal Jesuit has found me out!" said the cardinal
+to himself, as he stamped his foot with rage. "He sees that he was
+compromised by his first movement; he is now upon his guard; I shall get
+nothing more from him--unless indeed, profiting by the state of weakness
+in which he is, I can, by entreaties, by threats, by terror--"
+
+The prelate was unable to finish. The door opened abruptly, and Father
+d'Aigrigny entered the room, exclaiming with an explosion of joy:
+"Excellent news!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. GOOD NEWS.
+
+By the alteration in the countenance of Father d'Aigrigny, his pale
+cheek, and the feebleness of his walk, one might see that the terrible
+scene in the square of Notre-Dame, had violently reacted upon his
+health. Yet his face was radiant and triumphant, as he entered Rodin's
+chamber, exclaiming: "Excellent news!"
+
+On these words, Rodin started. In spite of his weakness, he raised his
+head, and his eyes shone with a curious, uneasy, piercing expression.
+With his lean hand, he beckoned Father d'Aigrigny to approach the
+bed, and said to him, in a broken voice, so weak that it was scarcely
+audible: "I am very ill--the cardinal has nearly finished me--but if
+this excellent news--relates to the Rennepont affair--of which I hear
+nothing--it might save me yet!"
+
+"Be saved then!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, forgetting the recommendations
+of Dr. Baleinier; "read, rejoice! What you foretold is beginning to be
+realized!"
+
+So saying, he drew a paper from his pocket, and delivered it to Rodin,
+who seized it with an eager and trembling hand. Some minutes before,
+Rodin would have been really incapable of continuing his conversation
+with the cardinal, even if prudence had allowed him to do so; nor could
+he have read a single line, so dim had his sight become. But, at the
+words of Father d'Aigrigny, he felt such a renewal of hope and vigor,
+that, by a mighty effort of energy and will, he rose to a sitting
+posture, and, with clear head, and look of intelligent animation, he
+read rapidly the paper that Father d'Aigrigny had just delivered to him.
+
+The cardinal, amazed at this sudden transfiguration, asked himself if he
+beheld the same man, who, a few minutes before, had fallen back on
+his bed, almost insensible. Hardly had Rodin finished reading, than
+he uttered a cry of stifled joy, saying, with an accent impossible to
+describe: "ONE gone! it works--'tis well!" And, closing his eyes in
+a kind of ecstatic transport, a smile of proud triumph overspread his
+face, and rendered him still more hideous, by discovering his yellow and
+gumless teeth. His emotion was so violent, that the paper fell from his
+trembling hand.
+
+"He has fainted," cried Father d'Aigrigny, with uneasiness, as he leaned
+over Rodin. "It is my fault, I forgot that the doctor cautioned me not
+to talk to him of serious matters."
+
+"No; do not reproach yourself," said Rodin, in a low voice, half-raising
+himself in the bed. "This unexpected joy may perhaps cure me. Yes--I
+scarce know what I feel--but look at my cheeks--it seems to me, that,
+for the first time since I have been stretched on this bed of pain, they
+are a little warm."
+
+Rodin spoke the truth. A slight color appeared suddenly on his livid and
+icy cheeks; his voice though still very weak, became less tremulous, and
+he exclaimed, in a tone of conviction that startled Father d'Aigrigny
+and the prelate, "This first success answers for the others. I read the
+future. Yes, yes; our cause will triumph. Every member of the execrable
+Rennepont family will be crushed--and that soon you will see--"
+
+Then, pausing, Rodin threw himself back on the pillow, exclaiming: "Oh!
+I am choked with joy. My voice fails me."
+
+"But what is it?" asked the cardinal of Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+The latter replied, in a tone of hypocritical sanctity: "One of the
+heirs of the Rennepont family, a poor fellow, worn out with excesses and
+debauchery, died three days ago, at the close of some abominable
+orgies, in which he had braved the cholera with sacrilegious impiety.
+In consequence of the indisposition that kept me at home, and of another
+circumstance, I only received to-day the certificate of the death of
+this victim of intemperance and irreligion. I must proclaim it to the
+praise of his reverence"--pointing to Rodin--"that he told me, the worst
+enemies of the descendants of that infamous renegade would be their own
+bad passions, and that the might look to them as our allies against the
+whole impious race. And so it has happened with Jacques Rennepont."
+
+"You see," said Rodin, in so faint a voice that it was almost
+unintelligible, "the punishment begins already. One of the Renneponts
+is dead--and believe me--this certificate," and he pointed to the paper
+that Father d'Aigrigny held in his hand, "will one day be worth forty
+millions to the Society of Jesus--and that--because--"
+
+The lips alone finished the sentence. During some seconds, Rodin's
+voice had become so faint, that it was at last quite imperceptible. His
+larynx, contracted by violent emotion, no longer emitted any sound.
+The Jesuit, far from being disconcerted by this incident, finished his
+phrase, as it were, by expressive pantomime. Raising his head proudly he
+tapped his forehead with his forefinger, as if to express that it was to
+his ability this first success was owing. But he soon fell back again
+on the bed, exhausted, breathless, sinking, with his cotton handkerchief
+pressed once more to his parched lips. The good news, as Father
+d'Aigrigny called it, had not cured Rodin. For a moment only, he had had
+the courage to forget his pain. But the slight color on his cheek soon
+disappeared; his face became once more livid. His sufferings, suspended
+for a moment, were so much increased in violence, that he writhed
+beneath the coverlet, and buried his face in the pillow, extending his
+arms above his head, and holding them stiff as bars of iron. After this
+crisis, intense as it was rapid: during which Father d'Aigrigny and the
+prelate bent anxiously over him, Rodin, whose face was bathed in cold
+sweat, made a sign that he suffered less, and that he wished to drink of
+a potion to which he pointed. Father d'Aigrigny fetched it for him,
+and while the cardinal held him up with marked disgust, the abbe
+administered a few spoonfuls of the potion, which almost immediately
+produced a soothing effect.
+
+"Shall I call M. Rousselet?" said Father d'Aigrigny, when Rodin was once
+more laid down in bed.
+
+Rodin shook his head; then, with a fresh effort, he raised his right
+hand, opened it, and pointed with his forefinger to a desk in a corner
+of the room, to signify that, being no longer able to speak, he wished
+to write.
+
+"I understand your reverence," said Father d'Aigrigny; "but first
+calm yourself. Presently, if you require it. I will give you writing
+materials."
+
+Two knocks at the outer door of the next room interrupted this scene.
+From motives of prudence, Father d'Aigrigny had begged Rousselet to
+remain in the first of the three rooms. He now went to open the door,
+and Rousselet handed him a voluminous packet, saying: "I beg pardon
+for disturbing you, father, but I was told to let you have these papers
+instantly."
+
+"Thank you, M. Rousselet," said Father d'Aigrigny; "do you know at what
+hour Dr. Baleinier will return?"
+
+"He will not be long, father, for he wishes to perform before night the
+painful operation, that will have a decisive effect on the condition of
+Father Rodin. I am preparing what is necessary for it," added Rousselet,
+as he pointed to a singular and formidable apparatus, which Father
+d'Aigrigny examined with a kind of terror.
+
+"I do not know if the symptom is a serious one," said the Jesuit; "but
+the reverend father has suddenly lost his voice."
+
+"It is the third time this has happened within the last week," said
+Rousselet; "the operation of Dr. Baleiner will act both on the larynx
+and on the lungs."
+
+"Is the operation a very painful one?" asked Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"There is, perhaps, none more cruel in surgery," answered the young
+doctor; "and Dr. Baleinier has partly concealed its nature from Father
+Rodin."
+
+"Please to wait here for Dr. Baleinier, and send him to us as soon as he
+arrives," resumed Father d'Aigrigny: and, returning to the sick chamber,
+he sat down by the bedside, and said to Rodin, as he showed him the
+letter: "Here are different reports with regard to different members
+of the Rennepont family, whom I have had looked after by others, my
+indisposition having kept me at home for the last few days. I do not
+know, father, if the state of your health will permit you to hear--"
+
+Rodin made a gesture, at once so supplicating and peremptory, that
+Father d'Aigrigny felt there would be at least as much danger in
+refusing as in granting his request; so, turning towards the cardinal,
+still inconsolable at not having discovered the Jesuit's secret, he
+said to him with respectful deference, pointing at the same time to the
+letter: "Have I the permission of your Eminence?"
+
+The prelate bowed, and replied: "Your affairs are ours, my dear father.
+The Church must always rejoice in what rejoices your glorious Company."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny unsealed the packet, and found in it different notes
+in different handwritings. When he had read the first, his countenance
+darkened, and he said, in a grave tone: "A misfortune--a great
+misfortune."
+
+Rodin turned his head abruptly, and looked at him with an air of uneasy
+questioning.
+
+"Florine is dead of the cholera," answered Father d'Aigrigny; "and what
+is the worst," added he, crumpling the note between his hands, "before
+dying, the miserable creature confessed to Mdlle. de Cardoville that she
+long acted as a spy under the orders of your reverence."
+
+No doubt the death of Florine, and the confession she had made, crossed
+some of the plans of Rodin, for he uttered an inarticulate murmur, and
+his countenance expressed great vexation.
+
+Passing to another note, Father d'Aigrigny continued: "This relates
+to Marshal Simon, and is not absolutely bad, but still far from
+satisfactory, as it announces some amelioration in his position. We
+shall see if it merits belief, by information from another source."
+
+Rodin made a sign of impatience, to hasten Father d'Aigrigny to read the
+note, which he did as follows. "'For some days, the mind of the marshal
+has appeared to be less sorrowful, anxious and agitated. He lately
+passed two hours with his daughters, which had not been the case for
+some time before. The harsh countenance of the soldier Dagobert is
+becoming smoother--a sure sign of some amelioration in the condition of
+the marshal. Detected by their handwriting, the last anonymous letters
+were returned by Dagobert to the postman, without having been opened by
+the marshal. Some other method must be found to get them delivered.'"
+
+Looking at Rodin, Father d'Aigrigny said to him: "Your reverence thinks
+with me that this note is not very satisfactory?"
+
+Rodin held down his head. One saw by the expression of his countenance
+how much he suffered by not being able to speak. Twice he put his hand
+to his throat, and looked at Father d'Aigrigny with anguish.
+
+"Oh!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, angrily, when he had perused another
+note, "for one lucky chance, to-day brings some very black ones."
+
+At these words turning hastily to Father d'Aigrigny, and extending
+his trembling hands, Rodin questioned him with look and gesture. The
+cardinal, sharing his uneasiness, exclaimed: "What do you learn by this
+note, my dear father?"
+
+"We thought the residence of M. Hardy in our house completely unknown,"
+replied Father d'Aigrigny, "but we now fear that Agricola Baudoin
+has discovered the retreat of his old master, and that he has even
+communicated with him by letter, through a servant of the house. So,"
+added the reverend father, angrily, "during the three days that I have
+not been able to visit the pavilion, one of my servants must have been
+bought over. There is one of them, a man blind of one eye, whom I
+have always suspected--the wretch! But no: I will not yet believe this
+treachery. The consequences would be too deplorable; for I know how
+matters stand, and that such a correspondence might ruin everything.
+By awaking in M. Hardy memories with difficulty laid asleep, they might
+destroy in a single day all that has been done since he inhabits our
+house. Luckily, this note contains only doubts and fears; my other
+information will be more positive, and will not, I hope, confirm them."
+
+"My dear father," said the cardinal, "do not despair. The Lord will not
+abandon the good cause!"
+
+Father d'Aigrigny seemed very little consoled by this assurance. He
+remained still and thoughtful, whilst Rodin writhed his head in a
+paroxysm of mute rage, as he reflected on this new check.
+
+"Let us turn to the last note," said Father d'Aigrigny, after a moment
+of thoughtful silence. "I have so much confidence in the person who
+sends it, that I cannot doubt the correctness of the information it
+contains. May it contradict the others!"
+
+In order not to break the chain of facts contained in this last note,
+which was to have so startling an effect on the actors in this scene, we
+shall leave it to the reader's imagination to supply the exclamations
+of surprise, hate, rage and fear of Father d'Aigrigny, and the terrific
+pantomime of Rodin, during the perusal of this formidable document,
+the result of the observations of a faithful and secret agent of
+the reverend fathers. Comparing this note with the other information
+received, the results appeared more distressing to the reverend fathers.
+Thus Gabriel had long and frequent conferences with Adrienne, who before
+was unknown to him. Agricola Baudoin had opened a communication with
+Francis Hardy, and the officers of justice were on the track of the
+authors and instigators of the riot which had led to the burning of the
+factory of Baron Tripeaud's rival. It seemed almost certain that Mdlle.
+de Cardoville had had an interview with Prince Djalma.
+
+This combination of facts showed that, faithful to the threats she
+had uttered to Rodin, when she had unmasked the double perfidy of the
+reverend father, Mdlle. de Cardoville was actively engaged in uniting
+the scattered members of her family, to form a league against those
+dangerous enemies, whose detestable projects, once unveiled and boldly
+encountered, could hardly have a chance of success. The reader will now
+understand the tremendous effect of this note on Father d'Aigrigny and
+Rodin--on Rodin, stretched powerless on a bed of pain at the moment when
+the scaffolding, raised with so much labor, seemed to be tumbling around
+him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THE OPERATION.
+
+We have given up the attempt to paint the countenance, attitude, and
+gesticulation of Rodin during the reading of this note, which seemed to
+ruin all his most cherished hopes. Everything was failing at once, at
+the moment when only superhuman trust in the success of his plans could
+give him sufficient energy to strive against mortal sickness. A single,
+absorbing thought had agitated him even to delirium: What progress,
+during his illness, had been made in this immense affair? He had first
+heard a good piece of news, the death of Jacques Rennepont; but now the
+advantages of this decease, which reduced the number of the heirs from
+seven to six, were entirely lost. To what purpose would be this death,
+if the other members of the family, dispersed and persecuted with such
+infernal perseverance, were to unite and discover the enemies who had
+so long aimed at them in darkness? If all those wounded hearts were to
+console, enlighten, support each other, their cause would be gained, and
+the inheritance rescued from the reverend fathers. What was to be done?
+
+Strange power of the human will!--Rodin had one foot in the grave, he
+was almost at the last gasp; his voice had failed him. And yet that
+obstinate nature, so full of energy and resources, did not despair.
+Let but a miracle restore his health, and that firm confidence in the
+success of his projects which has given him power to struggle against
+disease, tells him that he could yet save all--but then he must have
+health and life! Health! life! His physician does not know if he will
+survive the shock--if he can bear the pain--of a terrible operation.
+Health! life! and just now Rodin heard talk of the solemn funeral they
+had prepared for him. And yet--health, life, he will have them. Yes; he
+has willed to live--and he has lived--why should he not live longer? He
+will live--because he has willed it.
+
+All that we have just written passed though Rodin's mind in a second.
+His features, convulsed by the mental torment he endured, must have
+assumed a very strange expression, for Father d'Aigrigny and the
+cardinal looked at him in silent consternation. Once resolved to live,
+and to sustain a desperate struggle with the Rennepont family, Rodin
+acted in consequence. For a few moments Father d'Aigrigny and the
+prelate believed themselves under the influence of a dream. By an effort
+of unparalleled energy, and as if moved by hidden mechanism, Rodin
+sprang from the bed, dragging the sheet with him, and trailing it, like
+a shroud, behind his livid and fleshless body. The room was cold; the
+face of the Jesuit was bathed in sweat; his naked and bony feet left
+their moist print upon the stones.
+
+"What are you doing? It is death!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, rushing
+towards Rodin, to force him to lie down again.
+
+But the latter, extending one of his skeleton arms, as hard as iron,
+pushed aside Father d'Aigrigny with inconceivable vigor, considering the
+state of exhaustion in which he had so long been.
+
+"He has the strength of a man in a fit of epilepsy," said Father
+d'Aigrigny, recovering his balance.
+
+With a steady step Rodin advanced to the desk on which Dr. Baleinier
+daily wrote his prescriptions. Seating himself before it, the Jesuit
+took pen and paper, and began to write in a firm hand. His calm, slow,
+and sure movements had in them something of the deliberateness remarked
+in somnambulists. Mute and motionless, hardly knowing whether they
+dreamed or not, the cardinal and Father d'Aigrigny remained staring at
+the incredible coolness of Rodin, who, half-naked, continued to write
+with perfect tranquillity.
+
+"But, father," said the Abbe d'Aigrigny, advancing towards him, "this is
+madness!"
+
+Rodin shrugged his shoulders, stopped him with a gesture and made him a
+sign to read what he had just written.
+
+The reverend father expected to see the ravings of a diseased brain; but
+he took the note, whilst Rodin commenced another.
+
+"My lord," exclaimed Father d'Aigrigny, "read this!"
+
+The cardinal read the paper, and returning it to the reverend father
+with equal amazement, added: "It is full of reason, ability, and
+resources. We shall thus be able to neutralize the dangerous combination
+of Abbe Gabriel and Mdlle. de Cardoville, who appear to be the most
+formidable leaders of the coalition."
+
+"It is really miraculous," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Oh, my dear father!" whispered the cardinal, shaking his head; "what
+a pity that we are the only witnesses of this scene! What an excellent
+MIRACLE we could have made of it! In one sense, it is another Raising of
+Lazarus!"
+
+"What an idea, my lord!" answered Father d'Aigrigny, in a low voice. "It
+is perfect--and we must not give it up--"
+
+This innocent little plot was interrupted by Rodin, who, turning his
+head, made a sign to Father d'Aigrigny to approach, and delivered to him
+another sheet, with this note attached: "To be executed within an hour."
+
+Having rapidly perused the paper, Father d'Aigrigny exclaimed: "Right!
+I had not thought of that. Instead of being fatal, the correspondence
+between Agricola and M. Hardy may thus have the best results. Really,"
+added the reverend father in a low voice to the prelate, while Rodin
+continued to write, "I am quite confounded. I read--I see--and yet I can
+hardly believe my eyes. Just before, exhausted and dying--and now
+with his mind as clear and penetrating as ever. Can this be one of the
+phenomena of somnambulism, in which the mind alone governs and sustains
+the body?"
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and Dr. Baleinier entered the room. At sight
+of Rodin, seated half-naked at the desk, with his feet upon the cold
+stones, the doctor exclaimed, in a tone of reproach and alarm: "But, my
+lord--but, father--it is murder to let the unhappy man do this!--If he
+is delirious from fever, he must have the strait-waistcoat, and be tied
+down in bed."
+
+So saying. Dr. Baleinier hastily approached Rodin, and took him by the
+arm. Instead of finding the skin dry and chilly, as he expected, he
+found it flexible, almost damp. Struck with surprise, the doctor sought
+to feel the pulse of the left hand, which Rodin resigned, to him, whilst
+he continued working with the right.
+
+"What a prodigy!" cried the doctor, as he counted Rodin's pulse; "for
+a week past, and even this morning, the pulse has been abrupt,
+intermittent, almost insensible, and now it is firm, regular--I am
+really puzzled--what then has happened? I can hardly believe what
+I see," added the doctor, turning towards Father d'Aigrigny and the
+cardinal.
+
+"The reverend father, who had first lost his voice, was next seized with
+such furious and violent despair caused by the receipt of bad news,"
+answered Father d'Aigrigny, "that we feared a moment for his life; while
+now, on the contrary, the reverend father has gained sufficient strength
+to go to his desk, and write for some minutes, with a clearness of
+argument and expression, which has confounded both the cardinal and
+myself."
+
+"There is no longer any doubt of it," cried the doctor. "The violent
+despair has caused a degree of emotion, which will admirably prepare
+the reactive crisis, that I am now almost certain of producing by the
+operation."
+
+"You persist in the operation?" whispered Father d'Aigrigny, whilst
+Rodin continued to write.
+
+"I might have hesitated this morning; but, disposed as he now is for
+it, I must profit by the moment of excitement, which will be followed by
+greater depression."
+
+"Then, without the operation--" said the cardinal.
+
+"This fortunate and unexpected crisis will soon be over, and the
+reaction may kill him, my lord."
+
+"Have you informed him of the serious nature of the operation?"
+
+"Pretty nearly, my lord."
+
+"But it is time to bring him to the point."
+
+"That is what I will do, my lord," said Dr. Baleinier; and approaching
+Rodin, who continued to write, he thus addressed him, in a firm voice:
+"My reverend father, do you wish to be up and well in a week?"
+
+Rodin nodded, full of confidence, as much as to say: "I am up already."
+
+"Do not deceive yourself," replied the doctor. "This crisis is
+excellent, but it will not last, and if we would profit by it, we must
+proceed with the operation of which I have spoken to you--or, I tell you
+plainly, I answer for nothing after such a shock."
+
+Rodin was the more struck with these words, as, half an hour ago, he had
+experienced the short duration of the improvement occasioned by Father
+d'Aigrigny's good news, and as already he felt increased oppression on
+the chest.
+
+Dr. Baleinier, wishing to decide him, added: "In a word, father, will
+you live or die?"
+
+Rodin wrote rapidly this answer, which he gave to the doctor: "To live,
+I would let you cut me limb from limb. I am ready for anything." And he
+made a movement to rise.
+
+"I must tell you, reverend father, so as not to take you by surprise,"
+added Dr. Baleinier, "that this operation is cruelly painful."
+
+Rodin shrugged his shoulders and wrote with a firm hand: "Leave me my
+head; you may take all the rest."
+
+The doctor read these words aloud, and the cardinal and Father
+d'Aigrigny looked at each other in admiration of this dauntless courage.
+
+"Reverend father," said Dr. Baleinier, "you must lie down."
+
+Rodin wrote: "Get everything ready. I have still some orders to write.
+Let me know when it is time."
+
+Then folding up a paper, which he had sealed with a wafer, Rodin gave
+these words to Father d'Aigrigny: "Send this note instantly to the agent
+who addressed the anonymous letters to Marshal Simon."
+
+"Instantly, reverend father," replied the abbe; "I will employ a sure
+messenger."
+
+"Reverend father," said Baleinier to Rodin, "since you must write, lie
+down in bed, and write there, during our little preparations."
+
+Rodin made an affirmative gesture, and rose. But already the prognostics
+of the doctor were realized. The Jesuit could hardly remain standing for
+a second; he fell back into a chair, and looked at Dr. Baleinier with
+anguish, whilst his breathing became more and more difficult.
+
+The doctor said to him: "Do not be uneasy. But we must make haste. Lean
+upon me and Father d'Aigrigny."
+
+Aided by these two supporters, Rodin was able to regain the bed. Once
+there, he made signs that they should bring him pen, ink, and paper.
+Then he continued to write upon his knees, pausing from time to time, to
+breathe with great difficulty.
+
+"Reverend father," said Baleinier to d'Aigrigny, "are you capable of
+acting as one of my assistants in the operation? Have you that sort of
+courage?"
+
+"No," said the reverend father; "in the army I could never assist at an
+amputation. The sight of blood is too much for me."
+
+"There will be no blood," said the doctor, "but it will be worse. Please
+send me three of our reverend fathers to assist me, and ask M. Rousselet
+to bring in the apparatus."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny went out. The prelate approached the doctor, and
+whispered, pointing to Rodin: "Is he out of danger?"
+
+"If he stands the operation--yes, my lord."
+
+"Are you sure that he can stand it?"
+
+"To him I should say 'yes,' to you 'I hope so.'"
+
+"And were he to die, would there be time to administer the sacraments in
+public, with a certain pomp, which always causes some little delay?"
+
+"His dying may continue, my lord--a quarter of an hour."
+
+"It is short, but we must be satisfied with that," said the prelate.
+
+And, going to one of the windows, he began to tap with his fingers on
+the glass, while he thought of the illumination effects, in the event of
+Rodin's lying in state. At this moment, Rousselet entered, with a large
+square box under his arm. He placed it on the drawers, and began to
+arrange his apparatus.
+
+"How many have you prepared?" said the doctor.
+
+"Six, sir."
+
+"Four will do, but it is well to be fully provided. The cotton is not
+too thick?"
+
+"Look, sir."
+
+"Very good."
+
+"And how is the reverend father?" asked the pupil.
+
+"Humph!" answered the doctor, in a whisper. "The chest is terribly
+clogged, the respiration hissing, the voice gone--still there is a
+change."
+
+"All my fear is, sir, that the reverend father will not be able to stand
+the dreadful pain."
+
+"It is another chance; but, under the circumstances, we must risk all.
+Come, my dear boy, light the--taper; I hear our assistants."
+
+Just then Father d'Aigrigny entered the room, accompanied by the three
+Jesuits, who, in the morning, had walked in the garden. The two old men,
+with their rosy cheeks, and the young one, with the ascetic countenance,
+all three dressed in black, with their square caps and white bands,
+appeared perfectly ready to assist Dr. Baleinier in his formidable
+operation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE TORTURE.
+
+"Reverend fathers," said Dr. Baleinier, graciously, to the three, "I
+thank you for your kind aid. What you have to do is very simple, and,
+by the blessing of heaven, this operation will save the life of our dear
+Father Rodin."
+
+The three black-gowns cast up their eyes piously, and then bowed
+altogether, like one man. Rodin, indifferent to what was passing around
+him, never ceased an instant to write or reflect. Nevertheless, in spite
+of his apparent calmness, he felt such difficulty in breathing, that
+more than once Dr. Baleinier had turned round uneasily, as he heard the
+stifled rattling in the throat of the sick man. Making a sign to his
+pupil, the doctor approached Rodin and said to him: "Come, reverend
+father; this is the important moment. Courage!"
+
+No sign of alarm was expressed in the Jesuit's countenance. His features
+remained impassible as those of a corpse. Only, his little reptile eyes
+sparkled still more brightly in their dark cavities. For a moment,
+he looked round at the spectators of this scene; then, taking his pen
+between his teeth, he folded and wafered another letter, placed it on
+the table beside the bed, and nodded to Dr. Baleinier, as if to say: "I
+am ready."
+
+"You must take off your flannel waistcoat, and your shirt, father."
+Rodin hesitated an instant, and the doctor resumed: "It is absolutely
+necessary, father."
+
+Aided by Baleinier, Rodin obeyed, whilst the doctor added, no doubt to
+spare his modesty: "We shall only require the chest, right and left, my
+dear father."
+
+And now, Rodin, stretched upon his back, with his dirty night-cap still
+on his head, exposed the upper part of a livid trunk, or rather, the
+bony cage of a skeleton, for the shadows of the ribs and cartilages
+encircled the skin with deep, black lines. As for the arms, they
+resembled bones twisted with cord and covered with tanned parchment.
+
+"Come, M. Rousselet, the apparatus!" said Baleinier.
+
+Then addressing the three Jesuits, he added: "Please draw near,
+gentlemen; what you have to do is very simple, as you will see."
+
+It was indeed very simple. The doctor gave to each of his four
+assistants a sort of little steel tripod about two inches in diameter
+and three in height; the circular centre of this tripod was filled with
+cotton; the instrument was held in the left hand by means of a wooden
+handle. In the right hand each assistant held a small tin tube about
+eighteen inches long; at one end was a mouthpiece to receive the lips
+of the operator, and the other spread out so as to form a cover to the
+little tripod. These preparations had nothing alarming in them. Father
+d'Aigrigny and the prelate, who looked on from a little distance,
+could not understand how this operation should be so painful. They soon
+understood it.
+
+Dr. Baleinier, having thus provided his four assistants, made them
+approach Rodin, whose bed had been rolled into the middle of the room.
+Two of them were placed on one side, two on the other.
+
+"Now, gentlemen," said Dr. Baleinier, "set light to the cotton; place
+the lighted part on the skin of his reverence, by means of the tripod
+which contains the wick; cover the tripod with the broad part of the
+tube, and then blow through the other end to keep up the fire. It is
+very simple, as you see."
+
+It was, in fact, full of the most patriarchal and primitive ingenuity.
+Four lighted cotton rocks, so disposed as to burn very slowly, were
+applied to the two sides of Rodin's chest. This is vulgarly called the
+moxa. The trick is done, when the whole thickness of the skin has been
+burnt slowly through. It lasts seven or eight minutes. They say that
+an amputation is nothing to it. Rodin had watched the preparations
+with intrepid curiosity. But, at the first touch of the four fires,
+he writhed like a serpent, without being able to utter a cry. Even the
+expression of pain was denied him. The four assistants being disturbed
+by, the sudden start of Rodin, it was necessary to begin again.
+
+"Courage, my dear father! offer these sufferings to the Lord!" said Dr.
+Baleinier, in a sanctified tone. "I told you the operation would be
+very painful; but then it is salutary in proportion. Come; you that have
+shown such decisive resolution, do not fail at the last movement!"
+
+Rodin had closed his eyes, conquered by the first agony of pain. He now
+opened them, and looked at the doctor as if ashamed of such weakness.
+And yet on the sides of his chest were four large, bleeding wounds--so
+violent had been the first singe. As he again extended himself on the
+bed of torture, Rodin made a sign that he wished to write. The doctor
+gave him the pen, and he wrote as follows, by way of memorandum; "It is
+better not to lose any time. Inform Baron Tripeaud of the warrant issued
+against Leonard, so that he may be on his guard."
+
+Having written this note, the Jesuit gave it to Dr. Baleinier, to hand
+it to Father d'Aigrigny, who was as much amazed as the doctor and the
+cardinal, at such extraordinary presence of mind in the midst of such
+horrible pain. Rodin, with his eyes fixed on the reverend father, seemed
+to wait with impatience for him to leave the room to execute his orders.
+Guessing the thought of Rodin, the doctor whispered Father d'Aigrigny,
+who went out.
+
+"Come, reverend father," said the doctor, "we must begin again. This
+time do not move."
+
+Rodin did not answer, but clasped his hands over his head, closed his
+eyes, and presented his chest. It was a strange, lugubrious, almost
+fantastic spectacle. The three priests, in their long black gowns,
+leaned over this body, which almost resembled a corpse, and blowing
+through their tubes into the chest of the patient, seemed as if pumping
+up his blood by some magic charm. A sickening odor of burnt flesh began
+to spread through the silent chamber, and each assistant heard a slight
+crackling beneath the smoking trivet; it was the skin of Rodin giving
+way to the action of fire, and splitting open in four different parts of
+his chest. The sweat poured from his livid face, which it made to shine;
+a few locks of his gray hair stood up stiff and moist from his temples.
+Sometimes the spasms were so violent, that the veins swelled on his
+stiffened arms, and were stretched like cords ready to break.
+
+Enduring this frightful torture with as much intrepid resignation as
+the savage whose glory consists in despising pain, Rodin gathered his
+strength and courage from the hope--we had almost said the certainty--of
+life. Such was the make of this dauntless character, such the energy of
+this powerful mind, that, in the midst of indescribable torments,
+his one fixed idea never left him. During the rare intervals of
+suffering--for pain is equal even at this degree of intensity--Rodin
+still thought of the Rennepont inheritance, and calculated his chances,
+and combined his measures, feeling that he had not a minute to lose. Dr.
+Baleinier watched him with extreme attention, waiting for the effects
+of the reaction of pain upon the patient, who seemed already to breathe
+with less difficulty.
+
+Suddenly Rodin placed his hand on his forehead, as if struck with some
+new idea, and turning his head towards Dr. Baleinier, made a sign to him
+to suspend the operation.
+
+"I must tell you, reverend father," answered the doctor, "that it is not
+half finished, and, if we leave off, the renewal will be more painful--"
+
+Rodin made a sign that he did not care, and that he wanted to write.
+
+"Gentlemen, stop a moment," said Dr. Baleinier; "keep down your moxas,
+but do not blow the fire."
+
+So the fire was to burn slowly, instead of fiercely, but still upon
+the skin of the patient. In spite of this pain, less intense, but still
+sharp and keen, Rodin, stretched upon his back, began to write, holding
+the paper above his head. On the first sheet he traced some alphabetic
+signs, part of a cipher known to himself alone. In the midst of the
+torture, a luminous idea had crossed his mind; fearful of forgetting it
+amidst his sufferings, he now took note of it. On another paper he wrote
+the following, which was instantly delivered to Father d'Aigrigny: "Send
+B. immediately to Faringhea, for the report of the last few days with
+regard to Djalma, and let B. bring it hither on the instant." Father
+d'Aigrigny went out to execute this new order. The cardinal approached
+a little nearer to the scene of the operation, for, in spite of the bad
+odor of the room, he took delight in seeing the Jesuit half roasted,
+having long cherished against him the rancor of an Italian and a priest.
+
+"Come, reverend father," said the doctor to Rodin, "continue to be
+admirably courageous, and your chest will free itself. You have still a
+bitter moment to go through--and then I have good hope."
+
+The patient resumed his former position. The moment Father d'Aigrigny
+returned, Rodin questioned him with a look, to which the reverend father
+replied by a nod. At a sign from the doctor, the four assistants began
+to blow through the tubes with all their might. This increase of torture
+was so horrible, that, in spite of his self-control, Rodin gnashed his
+teeth, started convulsively, and so expanded his palpitating chest,
+that, after a violent spasm, there rose from his throat and lungs a
+scream of terrific pain--but it was free, loud, sonorous.
+
+"The chest is free!" cried the doctor, in triumph. "The lungs have
+play--the voice returns--he is saved!--Blow, gentlemen, blow; and,
+reverend father, cry out as much as you please: I shall be delighted to
+hear you, for it will give you relief. Courage! I answer for the result.
+It is a wonderful cure. I will publish it by sound of trumpet."
+
+"Allow me, doctor," whispered Father d'Aigrigny, as he approached Dr.
+Baleinier; "the cardinal can witness, that I claimed beforehand the
+publication of this affair--as a miraculous fact."
+
+"Let it be miraculous then," answered Dr. Baleinier, disappointed--for
+he set some value on his own work.
+
+On hearing he was saved, Rodin though his sufferings were perhaps worse
+than ever, for the fire had now pierced the scarf-skin, assumed almost
+an infernal beauty. Through the painful contraction of his features
+shone the pride of savage triumph; the monster felt that he was becoming
+once more strong and powerful, and he seemed conscious the evils that
+his fatal resurrection was to cause. And so, of still writhing beneath
+the flames, he pronounced these words, the first that struggled from his
+chest: "I told you I should live!"
+
+"You told us true," cried the doctor, feeling his pulse; "the
+circulation is now full and regular, the lungs are free. The reaction is
+complete. You are saved."
+
+At this moment, the last shreds of cotton had burnt out. The trivets
+were withdrawn, and on the skeleton trunk of Rodin were seen four large
+round blisters. The skin still smoked, and the raw flesh was visible
+beneath. In one of his sudden movements, a lamp had been misplaced, and
+one of these burns was larger than the other, presenting as it were to
+the eye a double circle. Rodin looked down upon his wounds. After
+some seconds of silent contemplation, a strange smile curled his lips.
+Without changing his position, he glanced at Father d'Aigrigny with an
+expression impossible to describe, and said to him, as he slowly
+counted the wounds touching them with his flat and dirty nail:
+"Father d'Aigrigny, what an omen!--Look here! one Rennepont--two
+Renneponts--three Renneponts--four Renneponts--where is then the
+fifth!--Ah! here--this wound will count for two. They are twins."(41)
+And he emitted a little dry, bitter laugh. Father d'Aigrigny, the
+cardinal, and Dr. Baleinier, alone understood the sense of these
+mysterious and fatal words, which Rodin soon completed by a terrible
+allusion, as he exclaimed, with prophetic voice, and almost inspired
+air: "Yes, I say it. The impious race will be reduced to ashes, like
+the fragments of this poor flesh. I say it, and it will be so. I said I
+would live--and I do live!"
+
+(41) Jacques Rennepont being dead, and Gabriel out of the field, in
+consequence of his donation, there remained only five persons of the
+family--Rose and Blanche, Djalma, Adrienne, and Hardy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. VICE AND VIRTUE.
+
+Two days have elapsed since Rodin was miraculously restored to life. The
+reader will not have forgotten the house in the Rue Clovis, where the
+reverend father had an apartment, and where also was the lodging of
+Philemon, inhabited by Rose-Pompon. It is about three o'clock in the
+afternoon. A bright ray of light, penetrating through a round hole in
+the door Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, forms a striking contrast
+with the darkness of this cavern. The ray streams full upon a melancholy
+object. In the midst of fagots and faded vegetables, and close to a
+great heap of charcoal, stands a wretched bed; beneath the sheet, which
+covers it, can be traced the stiff and angular proportions of a corpse.
+It is the body of Mother Arsene herself, who died two days before, of
+the cholera. The burials have been so numerous, that there has been
+no time to remove her remains. The Rue Clovis is almost deserted. A
+mournful silence reigns without, often broken by the sharp whistling of
+the north wind. Between the squalls, one hears a sort of pattering. It
+is the noise of the large rats, running to and fro across the heap of
+charcoal.
+
+Suddenly, another sound is heard, and these unclean animals fly to hide
+themselves in their holes. Some one is trying to force open the door,
+which communicates between the shop and the passage. It offers but
+little resistance, and, in a few seconds, the worn-out lock gives
+way, and a woman enters. For a short time she stands motionless in the
+obscurity of the damp and icy cave. After a minute's hesitation, the
+woman advances and the ray of light illumines the features of the
+Bacchanal Queen. Slowly, she approached the funeral couch. Since the
+death of Jacques, the alteration in the countenance of Cephyse had gone
+on increasing. Fearfully pale, with her fine black hair in disorder,
+her legs and feet naked, she was barely covered with an old patched
+petticoat and a very ragged handkerchief.
+
+When she came near the bed, she cast a glance of almost savage assurance
+at the shroud. Suddenly she drew back, with a low cry of involuntary
+terror. The sheet moved with a rapid undulation, extending from the feet
+to the head of the corpse. But soon the sight of a rat, flying along the
+side of the worm-eaten bedstead, explained the movement of the shroud.
+Recovering from her fright, Cephyse began to look for several things,
+and collected them in haste, as though she dreaded being surprised
+in the miserable shop. First, she seized a basket, and filled it with
+charcoal; then, looking from side to side, she discovered in a corner an
+earthen pot, which she took with a burst of ominous joy.
+
+"It is not all, it is not all," said Cephyse, as she continued to search
+with an unquiet air.
+
+At last she perceived near the stove a little tin box, containing flint,
+steel and matches. She placed these articles on the top of the basket,
+and took it in one hand, and the earthen pot in the other. As she
+passed near the corpse of the poor charcoal-dealer, Cephyse said, with a
+strange smile: "I rob you, poor Mother Arsene, but my theft will not do
+me much good."
+
+Cephyse left the shop, reclosed the door as well as she could, went up
+the passage, and crossed the little court-yard which separated the
+front of the building from that part in which Rodin had lodged. With the
+exception of the windows of Philemon's apartment, where Rose-Pompon had
+so often sat perched like a bird, warbling Beranger, the other windows
+of the house were open. There had been deaths on the first and second
+floors, and, like many others, they were waiting for the cart piled up
+with coffins.
+
+The Bacchanal Queen gained the stairs, which led to the chambers
+formerly occupied by Rodin. Arrived at the landing-place she ascended
+another ruinous staircase, steep as a ladder, and with nothing but an
+old rope for a rail. She at length reached the half-rotten door of
+a garret, situated in the roof. The house was in such a state of
+dilapidation, that, in many places the roof gave admission to the rain,
+and allowed it to penetrate into this cell, which was not above ten feet
+square, and lighted by an attic window. All the furniture consisted of
+an old straw mattress, laid upon the ground, with the straw peeping out
+from a rent in its ticking; a small earthenware pitcher, with the spout
+broken, and containing a little water, stood by the side of this couch.
+Dressed in rags, Mother Bunch was seated on the side of the mattress,
+with her elbows on her knees, and her face concealed in her thin, white
+hands. When Cephyse entered the room, the adopted sister of Agricola
+raised her head; her pale, mild face seemed thinner than ever, hollow
+with suffering, grief, misery; her eyes, red with weeping, were fixed on
+her sister with an expression of mournful tenderness.
+
+"I have what we want, sister," said Cephyse, in a low, deep voice; "in
+this basket there is wherewith to finish our misery."
+
+Then, showing to Mother Bunch the articles she had just placed on the
+floor, she added: "For the first time in my life, I have been a thief.
+It made me ashamed and frightened; I was never intended for that or
+worse. It is a pity." added she, with a sardonic smile.
+
+After a moment's silence, the hunchback said to her sister, in a heart
+rending tone: "Cephyse--my dear Cephyse--are you quite determined to
+die?"
+
+"How should I hesitate?" answered Cephyse, in a firm voice. "Come,
+sister, let us once more make our reckoning. If even I could forget my
+shame, and Jacques' contempt in his last moments, what would remain to
+me? Two courses only: first, to be honest, and work for my living. But
+you know that, in spite of the best will in the world, work will often
+fail, as it has failed for the last few days, and, even when I got it, I
+would have to live on four to five francs a week. Live? that is to say,
+die by inches. I know that already, and I prefer dying at once. The
+other course would be to live a life of infamy--and that I will not do.
+Frankly, sister, between frightful misery, infamy, or death, can the
+choice be doubtful? Answer me!"
+
+Then, without giving Mother Bunch time to speak, Cephyse added, in an
+abrupt tone: "Besides, what is the good of discussing it? I have made up
+my mind, and nothing shall prevent my purpose, since all that you, dear
+sister, could obtain from me, was a delay of a few days, to see if the
+cholera would not save us the trouble. To please you I consented; the
+cholera has come, killed every one else in the house, but left us. You
+see, it is better to do one's own business," added she, again smiling
+bitterly. Then she resumed: "Besides, dear sister, you also wish to
+finish with life."
+
+"It is true, Cephyse," answered the sempstress, who seemed very much
+depressed; "but alone--one has only to answer for one's self--and to die
+with you," added she, shuddering, "appears like being an accomplice in
+your death."
+
+"Do you wish, then, to make an end of it, I in one place, you in
+another?--that would be agreeable!" said Cephyse, displaying in that
+terrible moment the sort of bitter and despairing irony which is more
+frequent than may be imagined in the midst of mortal anguish.
+
+"Oh, no, no!" said the other in alarm, "not alone--I will not die
+alone!"
+
+"Do you not see, dear sister, we are right not to part? And yet," added
+Cephyse, in a voice of emotion, "my heart almost breaks sometimes, to
+think that you will die like me."
+
+"How selfish!" said the hunchback, with a faint smile. "What reasons
+have I to love life? What void shall I leave behind me?"
+
+"But you are a martyr, sister," resumed Cephyse. "The priests talk of
+saints! Is there one of them so good as you? And yet you are about to
+die like me, who have always been idle, careless, sinful--while you were
+so hardworking, so devoted to all who suffered. What should I say?
+You were an angel on the earth; and yet you will die like me, who have
+fallen as low as a woman can fall," added the unfortunate, casting down
+her eyes.
+
+"It is strange," answered Mother Bunch, thoughtfully. "Starting from the
+same point, we have followed different roads, and yet we have reached
+the same goal--disgust of life. For you, my poor sister, but a few days
+ago, life was so fair, so full of pleasure and of youth; and now it is
+equally heavy with us both. After all, I have followed to the end what
+was my duty," added she, mildly. "Agricola no longer needs me. He is
+married; he loves, and is beloved; his happiness is secured. Mdlle. de
+Cardoville wants for nothing. Fair, rich, prosperous--what could a poor
+creature like myself do for her? Those who have been kind to me are
+happy. What prevents my going now to my rest? I am so weary!"
+
+"Poor sister!" said Cephyse, with touching emotion, which seemed to
+expand her contracted features; "when I think that, without informing
+me, and in spite of your resolution never to see that generous young
+lady, who protected you, you yet had the courage to drag yourself to
+her house, dying with fatigue and want, to try to interest her in my
+fate--yes, dying, for your strength failed on the Champs-Elysees."
+
+"And when I was able to reach the mansion, Mdlle. de Cardoville was
+unfortunately absent--very unfortunately!" repeated the hunchback, as
+she looked at Cephyse with anguish; "for the next day, seeing that our
+last resource had failed us, thinking more of me than of yourself, and
+determined at any price to procure us bread--"
+
+She could not finish. She buried her face in her hands, and shuddered.
+
+"Well, I did as so many other hapless women have done when work fails or
+wages do not suffice, and hunger becomes too pressing," replied Cephyse,
+in a broken voice; "only that, unlike so many others, instead of living
+on my shame, I shall die of it."
+
+"Alas! this terrible shame which kills you, my poor Cephyse, because you
+have a heart, would have been averted, had I seen Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+or had she but answered the letter which I asked leave to write to her
+at the porter's lodge. But her silence proves to me that she is justly
+hurt at my abrupt departure from her house. I can understand it; she
+believes me guilty of the blackest ingratitude--for she must have been
+greatly offended not to have deigned to answer me--and therefore I had
+not the courage to write a second time. It would have been useless, I am
+sure; for, good and just as she is, her refusals are inexorable when she
+believes them deserved. And besides, for what good? It was too late; you
+had resolved to die!"
+
+"Oh, yes, quite resolved: for my infamy was gnawing at my heart. Jacques
+had died in my arms despising me; and I loved him--mark me, sister,"
+added Cephyse, with passionate enthusiasm, "I loved him as we love only
+once in life!"
+
+"Let our fate be accomplished, then!" said Mother Bunch with a pensive
+air.
+
+"But you have never told me, sister, the cause of your departure from
+Mdlle. de Cardoville's," resumed Cephyse, after a moment's silence.
+
+"It will be the only secret that I shall take with me, dear Cephyse,"
+said the other, casting down her eyes. And she thought, with bitter joy,
+that she would soon be delivered from the fear which had poisoned the
+last days of her sad life--the fear of meeting Agricola, informed of the
+fatal and ridiculous love she felt for him.
+
+For, it must be said, this fatal and despairing love was one of
+the causes of the suicide of the unfortunate creature. Since the
+disappearance of her journal, she believed that the blacksmith knew
+the melancholy secret contained in its sad pages. She doubted not
+the generosity and good heart of Agricola; but she had such doubts of
+herself, she was so ashamed of this passion, however pure and
+noble, that, even in the extremity to which Cephyse and herself were
+reduced--wanting work, wanting bread--no power on earth could have
+induced her to meet Agricola, in an attempt to ask him for assistance.
+Doubtless, she would have taken another view of the subject if her mind
+had not been obscured by that sort of dizziness to which the firmest
+characters are exposed when their misfortunes surpass all bounds.
+Misery, hunger, the influence, almost contagious in such a moment, of
+the suicidal ideas of Cephyse, and weariness of a life so long devoted
+to pain and mortification, gave the last blow to the sewing-girl's
+reason. After long struggling against the fatal design of her sister,
+the poor, dejected, broken-hearted creature finished by determining to
+share Cephyse's fate, and seek in death the end of so many evils.
+
+"Of what are you thinking, sister?" said Cephyse, astonished at the long
+silence. The other replied, trembling: "I think of that which made me
+leave Mdlle. de Cardoville so abruptly, and appear so ungrateful in her
+eyes. May the fatality which drove me from her house have made no other
+victims! may my devoted service, however obscure and powerless, never be
+missed by her, who extended her noble hand to the poor sempstress,
+and deigned to call me sister! May she be happy--oh, ever happy!" said
+Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with the ardor of a sincere invocation.
+
+"That is noble, sister--such a wish in such a moment!" said Cephyse.
+
+"Oh," said her sister, with energy, "I loved, I admired that marvel
+of genius, and heart, and ideal beauty--I viewed her with pious
+respect--for never was the power of the Divinity revealed in a more
+adorable and purer creation. At least one of my last thoughts will have
+been of her."
+
+"Yes, you will have loved and respected your generous patroness to the
+last."
+
+"To the last!" said the poor girl, after a moment's silence. "It is
+true--you are right--it will soon be the last!--in a few moments, all
+will be finished. See how calmly we can talk of that which frightens so
+many others!"
+
+"Sister, we are calm because we are resolved."
+
+"Quite resolved, Cephyse," said the hunchback, casting once more a deep
+and penetrating glance upon her sister.
+
+"Oh, yes, if you are only as determined as I am."
+
+"Be satisfied; if I put off from day to day the final moment," answered
+the sempstress, "it was because I wished to give you time to reflect. As
+for me--"
+
+She did not finish, but she shook her head with an air of the utmost
+despondency.
+
+"Well, sister, let us kiss each other," said Cephyse; "and, courage!"
+
+The hunchback rose, and threw herself into her sister's arms. They held
+one another fast in a long embrace. There followed a few seconds of deep
+and solemn silence, only interrupted by the sobs of the sisters, for now
+they had begun to weep.
+
+"Oh, heaven! to love each other so, and to part forever!" said Cephyse.
+"It is a cruel fate."
+
+"To part?" cried Mother Bunch, and her pale, mild countenance, bathed
+in tears, was suddenly illumined with a ray of divine hope; "to
+part, sister? oh, no! What makes me so calm is the deep and certain
+expectation, which I feel here at my heart, of that better world where a
+better life awaits us. God, so great, so merciful, so prodigal of good,
+cannot destine His creatures to be forever miserable. Selfish men may
+pervert His benevolent designs, and reduce their brethren to a state of
+suffering and despair. Let us pity the wicked and leave them! Come up on
+high, sister; men are nothing there, where God is all. We shall do well
+there. Let us depart, for it is late."
+
+So saying, she pointed to the ruddy beams of the setting sun, which
+began to shine upon the window.
+
+Carried away by the religious enthusiasm of her sister, whose
+countenance, transfigured, as it were, by the hope of an approaching
+deliverance, gleamed brightly in the reflected sunset, Cephyse took her
+hands, and, looking at her with deep emotion, exclaimed, "Oh, sister!
+how beautiful you look now!"
+
+"Then my beauty comes rather late in the day," said Mother Bunch, with a
+sad smile.
+
+"No, sister; for you appear so happy, that the last scruples I had upon
+your account are quite gone."
+
+"Then let us make haste," said the hunchback, as she pointed to the
+chafing-dish.
+
+"Be satisfied, sister--it will not be long," said Cephyse. And she took
+the chafing-dish full of charcoal, which she had placed in a corner of
+the garret, and brought it out into the middle of the room.
+
+"Do you know how to manage it?" asked the sewing-girl approaching.
+
+"Oh! it is very simple," answered Cephyse; "we have only to close the
+door and window, and light the charcoal."
+
+"Yes, sister; but I think I have heard that every opening must be well
+stopped, so as to admit no current of air."
+
+"You are right, and the door shuts so badly."
+
+"And look at the holes in the roof."
+
+"What is to be done, sister?"
+
+"I will tell you," said Mother Bunch. "The straw of our mattress, well
+twisted, will answer every purpose."
+
+"Certainly," replied Cephyse. "We will keep a little to light our fire,
+and with the rest we will stop up all the crevices in the roof, and make
+filling for our doors and windows."
+
+Then, smiling with that bitter irony, so frequent, we repeat, in the
+most gloomy moments, Cephyse added, "I say, sister, weather-boards
+at our doors and windows, to prevent the air from getting in--what a
+luxury! we are as delicate as rich people."
+
+"At such a time, we may as well try to make ourselves a little
+comfortable," said Mother Bunch, trying to jest like the Bacchanal
+Queen.
+
+And with incredible coolness, the two began to twist the straw into
+lengths of braid, small enough to be stuffed into the cracks of the
+door, and also constructed large plugs, destined to stop up the crevices
+in the roof. While this mournful occupation lasted, there was no
+departure from the calm and sad resignation of the two unfortunate
+creatures.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. SUICIDE.
+
+Cephyse and her sister continued with calmness the preparations for
+their death.
+
+Alas! how many poor young girls, like these sisters, have been, and
+still will be, fatally driven to seek in suicide a refuge from despair,
+from infamy, or from a too miserable existence! And upon society
+will rest the terrible responsibility of these sad deaths, so long as
+thousands of human creatures, unable to live upon the mockery of wages
+granted to their labor, have to choose between these three gulfs of
+shame and woe; a life of enervating toil and mortal privations, causes
+of premature death; prostitution, which kills also, but slowly--by
+contempt, brutality, and uncleanness; suicide--which kills at once.
+
+In a few minutes, the two sisters had constructed, with the straw of
+their couch, the calkings necessary to intercept the air, and to render
+suffocation more expeditious and certain.
+
+The hunchback said to her sister, "You are the taller, Cephyse, and must
+look to the ceiling; I will take care of the window and door."
+
+"Be satisfied, sister; I shall have finished before you," answered
+Cephyse.
+
+And the two began carefully to stop up every crevice through which a
+current of air could penetrate into the ruined garret. Thanks to her
+tall stature, Cephyse was able to reach the holes in the roof, and
+to close them up entirely. When they had finished this sad work, the
+sisters again approached, and looked at each other in silence.
+
+The fatal moment drew near; their faces, though still calm, seemed
+slightly agitated by that strange excitement which always accompanies a
+double suicide.
+
+"Now," said Mother Bunch, "now for the fire!"
+
+She knelt down before the little chafing-dish, filled with charcoal. But
+Cephyse took hold of her under the arm, and obliged her to rise again,
+saying to her, "Let me light the fire--that is my business."
+
+"But, Cephyse--"
+
+"You know, poor sister, that the smell of charcoal gives you the
+headache!"
+
+At the simplicity of this speech, for the Bacchanal Queen had spoken
+seriously, the sisters could not forbear smiling sadly.
+
+"Never mind," resumed Cephyse; "why suffer more and sooner than is
+necessary?"
+
+Then, pointing to the mattress, which still contained a little straw,
+Cephyse added, "Lie down there, good little sister; when our fire is
+alight, I will come and sit down by you."
+
+"Do not be long, Cephyse."
+
+"In five minutes it will be done."
+
+The tall building, which faced the street, was separated by a narrow
+court from that which contained the retreat of the two sisters, and was
+so much higher, that when the sun had once disappeared behind its lofty
+roof, the garret soon became dark. The light, passing through the dirty
+panes of the small window, fell faintly on the blue and white patchwork
+of the old mattress, on which Mother Bunch was now stretched, covered
+with rags. Leaning on her left arm, with her chin resting in the palm
+of her hand, she looked after her sister with an expression of
+heart-rending grief. Cephyse, kneeling over the chafing-dish, with her
+face close to the black charcoal, above which already played a little
+bluish flame, exerted herself to blow the newly-kindled fire, which was
+reflected on the pale countenance of the unhappy girl.
+
+The silence was deep. No sound was heard but the panting breath of
+Cephyse, and, at intervals, the slight crackling of the charcoal, which
+began to burn, and already sent forth a faint sickening vapor. Cephyse,
+seeing the fire completely lighted, and feeling already a little dizzy,
+rose from the ground, and said to her sister, as she approached her, "It
+is done!"
+
+"Sister," answered Mother Bunch, kneeling on the mattress, whilst
+Cephyse remained standing, "how shall we place ourselves? I should like
+to be near you to the last."
+
+"Stop!" said Cephyse, half executing the measures of which she spoke,
+"I will sit on the mattress with my back against the wall. Now, little
+sister, you lie there. Lean your head upon my knees, and give me your
+hand. Are you comfortable so?"
+
+"Yes--but I cannot see you."
+
+"That is better. It seems there is a moment--very short, it is true--in
+which one suffers a good deal. And," added Cephyse, in a voice of
+emotion, "it will be as well not to see each other suffer."
+
+"You are right, Cephyse."
+
+"Let me kiss that beautiful hair for the last time," said Cephyse, as
+she pressed her lips to the silky locks which crowned the hunchback's
+pale and melancholy countenance, "and then--we will remain very quiet."
+
+"Sister, your hand," said the sewing-girl; "for the last time, your
+hand--and then, as you say, we will move no more. We shall not have to
+wait long, I think, for I begin to feel dizzy. And you, sister?"
+
+"Not yet," replied Cephyse; "I only perceive the smell of the charcoal."
+
+"Do you know where they will bury us?" said Mother Bunch, after a
+moment's silence.
+
+"No. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because I should like it to be in Pere-la-Chaise. I went there once
+with Agricola and his mother. What a fine view there is!--and then
+the trees, the flowers, the marble--do you know the dead are better
+lodged--than the living--and--"
+
+"What is the matter, sister?" said Cephyse to her companion, who had
+stopped short, after speaking in a slow voice.
+
+"I am giddy--my temples throb," was the answer. "How do you feel?"
+
+"I only begin to be a little faint; it is strange--the effect is slower
+with me than you."
+
+"Oh! you see," said Mother Bunch, trying to smile, "I was always so
+forward. At school, do you remember, they said I was before the others.
+And, now it happens again."
+
+"I hope soon to overtake you this time," said Cephyse.
+
+What astonished the sisters was quite natural. Though weakened by sorrow
+and misery, the Bacchanal Queen, with a constitution as robust as the
+other was frail and delicate, was necessarily longer than her sister in
+feeling the effects of the deleterious vapor. After a moment's silence,
+Cephyse resumed, as she laid her hand on the head she still held upon
+her knees, "You say nothing, sister! You suffer, is it not so?"
+
+"No," said Mother Bunch, in a weak voice; "my eyelids are heavy as
+lead--I am getting benumbed--I feel that I speak more slowly--but I have
+no acute pain. And you, sister?"
+
+"Whilst you were speaking, I felt giddy--and now my temples throb
+violently."
+
+"As it was with me just now. One would think it was more painful and
+difficult to die."
+
+Then after a moment's silence, the hunchback said suddenly to her
+sister, "Do you think that Agricola will much regret me, and think of me
+for some time?"
+
+"How can you ask?" said Cephyse, in a tone of reproach.
+
+"You are right," answered Mother Bunch, mildly; "there is a bad feeling
+in such a doubt--but if you knew--"
+
+"What, sister?"
+
+The other hesitated for an instant, and then said, dejectedly,
+"Nothing." Afterwards, she added, "Fortunately, I die convinced that
+he will never miss me. He married a charming girl, who loves him, I am
+sure, and will make him perfectly happy."
+
+As she pronounced these last words, the speaker's voice grew fainter
+and fainter. Suddenly she started and said to Cephyse, in a
+trembling, almost frightened tone, "Sister! Hold me in your arms--I am
+afraid--everything looks dark--everything is turning round." And the
+unfortunate girl, raising herself a little, hid her face in her sister's
+bosom, and threw his weak arms around her.
+
+"Courage, sister!" said Cephyse, in a voice which was also growing
+faint, as she pressed her closer to her bosom; "it will soon be over."
+
+And Cephyse added, with a kind of envy, "Oh! why does my sister's
+strength fail so much sooner than mine? I have still my perfect
+senses and I suffer less than she does. Oh! if I thought she would
+die first!--But, no--I will go and hold my face over the chafing-dish
+rather."
+
+At the movement Cephyse made to rise, a feeble pressure from her sister
+held her back. "You suffer, my poor child!" said Cephyse, trembling.
+
+"Oh yes! a good deal now--do not leave me!"
+
+"And I scarcely at all," said Cephyse, gazing wildly at the
+chafing-dish. "Ah!" added she, with a kind of fatal! joy; "now I begin
+to feel it--I choke--my head is ready to split."
+
+And indeed the destructive gas now filled the little chamber, from which
+it had, by degrees, driven all the air fit for respiration. The day was
+closing in, and the gloomy garret was only lighted by the reflection of
+the burning charcoal, which threw a red glare on the sisters, locked
+in each other's arms. Suddenly Mother Bunch made some slight
+convulsive movements, and pronounced these words in a failing voice:
+"Agricola--Mademoiselle de Cardoville--Oh! farewell!--Agricola--I--"
+
+Then she murmured some unintelligible words; the convulsive moments
+ceased, and her arms, which had been clasped round Cephyse, fell inert
+upon the mattress.
+
+"Sister!" cried Cephyse, in alarm, as she raised Mother Bunch's head, to
+look at her face. "Not already, sister!--And I?--and I?"
+
+The sewing-girl's mild countenance was not paler than usual. Only her
+eyes, half-closed, seemed no longer to see anything, and a half-smile
+of mingled grief and goodness lingered an instant about her violet lips,
+from which stole the almost imperceptible breath--and then the mouth
+became motionless, and the face assumed a great serenity of expression.
+
+"But you must not die before me!" cried Cephyse, in a heart-rending
+tone, as she covered with kisses the cold cheek. "Wait for me, sister!
+wait for me!"
+
+Mother Bunch did not answer. The head, which Cephyse let slip from her
+hands, fell back gently on the mattress.
+
+"My God. It is not my fault, if we do not die together!" cried Cephyse
+in despair, as she knelt beside the couch, on which the other lay
+motionless.
+
+"Dead!" she murmured in terror. "Dead before me!--Perhaps it is that I
+am the strongest. Ah! it begins--fortunately--like her, I see everything
+dark-blue--I suffer--what happiness!--I can scarcely breathe. Sister!"
+she added, as she threw her arms round her loved one's neck; "I am
+coming--I am here!"
+
+At the same instant the sound of footsteps and voices was heard from the
+staircase. Cephyse had still presence of mind enough to distinguish
+the sound. Stretched beside the body of her sister, she raised her head
+hastily.
+
+The noise approached, and a voice was heard exclaiming, not far from the
+doer: "Good heavens! what a smell of fire!"
+
+And, at the same instant, the door was violently shaken, and another
+voice exclaimed: "Open! open!"
+
+"They will come in--they will save me--and my sister is dead--Oh, no! I
+will not have the baseness to survive her!"
+
+Such was the last thought of Cephyse. Using what little strength she had
+left, she ran to the window and opened it--and, at the same instant
+that the half-broken door yielded to a vigorous effort from without, the
+unfortunate creature precipitated herself from that third story into the
+court below. Just then, Adrienne and Agricola appeared on the threshold
+of the chamber. In spite of the stifling odor of the charcoal, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville rushed into the garret, and, seeing the stove, she exclaimed,
+"The unhappy girl has killed herself!"
+
+"No, she has thrown herself from the window," cried Agricola: for, at
+the moment of breaking open the door, he had seen a human form disappear
+in that direction, and he now ran to the window.
+
+"Oh! this is frightful!" he exclaimed, with a cry of horror, as he put
+his hand before his eyes, and returned pale and terrified to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville.
+
+But, misunderstanding the cause of his terror, Adrienne, who had just
+perceived Mother Bunch through the darkness, hastened to answer: "No!
+she is here."
+
+And she pointed to the pale form stretched on the mattress, beside which
+Adrienne now threw herself on her knees. Grasping the hands of the poor
+sempstress, she found them as cold as ice. Laying her hand on her heart,
+she could not feel it beat. Yet, in a few seconds, as the fresh air
+rushed into the room from the door and window, Adrienne thought she
+remarked an almost imperceptible pulsation, and she exclaimed: "Her
+heart beats! Run quickly for help! Luckily, I have my smelling bottle."
+
+"Yes, yes! help for her--and for the other too, if it is yet time!"
+cried the smith in despair, as he rushed down the stairs, leaving Mdlle.
+de Cardoville still kneeling by the side of the mattress.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK X.
+
+     XXXIII. Confessions XXXIV. More Confessions XXXV. The Rivals
+     XXXVI. The Interview XXXVII. Soothing Words XXXVIII. The Two
+     Carriages XXXIX. The Appointment XL. Anxiety XLI. Adrienne
+     and Djalma XLII. "The Imitation" XLIII. Prayer XLIV.
+     Remembrances XLV. The Blockhead XLVI. The Anonymous Letters
+     XLVII. The Golden City XLVIII. The Stung Lion XLIX. The Test
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. CONFESSIONS.
+
+During the painful scene that we have just described, a lively emotion
+glowed in the countenance of Mdlle. de Cardoville, grown pale and thin
+with sorrow. Her cheeks, once so full, were now slightly hollowed,
+whilst a faint line of transparent azure encircled those large black
+eyes, no longer so bright as formerly. But the charming lips, though
+contracted by painful anxiety, had retained their rich and velvet
+moisture. To attend more easily to Mother Bunch, Adrienne had thrown
+aside her bonnet, and the silky waves of her beautiful golden hair
+almost concealed her face as she bent over the mattress, rubbing the
+thin, ivory hands of the poor sempstress, completely called to life by
+the salubrious freshness of the air, and by the strong action of the
+salts which Adrienne carried in her smelling-bottle. Luckily, Mother
+Bunch had fainted, rather from emotion and weakness than from the
+effects of suffocation, the senses of the unfortunate girl having
+failed her before the deleterious gas had attained its highest degree of
+intensity.
+
+Before continuing the recital of the scene between the sempstress and
+the patrician, a few retrospective words will be necessary. Since
+the strange adventure at the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin, where
+Djalma, at peril of his life, rushed upon the black panther in sight of
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, the young lady had been deeply affected in various
+ways. Forgetting her jealousy, and the humiliation she had suffered in
+presence of Djalma--of Djalma exhibiting himself before every one with a
+woman so little worthy of him--Adrienne was for a moment dazzled by the
+chivalrous and heroic action of the prince, and said to herself: "In
+spite of odious appearances, Djalma loves me enough to brave death in
+order to pick up my nosegay."
+
+But with a soul so delicate as that of this young lady, a character so
+generous, and a mind so true, reflection was certain soon to demonstrate
+the vanity of such consolations, powerless to cure the cruel wounds of
+offended dignity an love.
+
+"How many times," said Adrienne to herself, and with reason, "has the
+prince encountered, in hunting, from pure caprice and with no gain, such
+danger as he braved in picking up my bouquet! and then, who tells me he
+did not mean to offer it to the woman who accompanied him?"
+
+Singular (it may be) in the eyes of the world, but just and great in
+those of heaven, the ideas which Adrienne cherished with regard to love,
+joined to her natural pride, presented an invincible obstacle to the
+thought of her succeeding this woman (whoever she might be), thus
+publicly displayed by the prince as his mistress. And yet Adrienne
+hardly dared avow to herself, that she experienced a feeling of
+jealousy, only the more painful and humiliating, the less her rival
+appeared worthy to be compared to her.
+
+At other times, on the contrary, in spite of a conscious sense of her
+own value, Mdlle. de Cardoville, remembering the charming countenance of
+Rose-Pompon, asked herself if the bad taste and improper manners of this
+pretty creature resulted from precocious and depraved effrontery, or
+from a complete ignorance of the usages of society. In the latter case,
+such ignorance, arising from a simple and ingenuous nature, might in
+itself have a great charm; and if to this attraction, combined with that
+of incontestable beauty, were added sincere love and a pure soul, the
+obscure birth, or neglected education of the girl might be of little
+consequence, and she might be capable of inspiring Djalma with a
+profound passion. If Adrienne hesitated to see a lost creature in
+Rose-Pompon, notwithstanding unfavorable appearances, it was because,
+remembering what so many travellers had related of Djalma's greatness of
+soul, and recalling the conversation she had overheard between him
+and Rodin, she could not bring herself to believe that a man of
+such remarkable intelligence, with so tender a heart, so poetical,
+imaginative and enthusiastic a mind could be capable of loving a
+depraved and vulgar creature, and of openly exhibiting himself in public
+along with her. There was a mystery in the transaction, which Adrienne
+sought in vain to penetrate. These trying doubts, this cruel curiosity,
+only served to nourish Adrienne's fatal love; and we may imagine her
+incurable despair, when she found that the indifference, or even disdain
+of Djalma, was unable to stifle a passion that now burned more fiercely
+than ever. Sometimes, having recourse to notions of fatality, she
+fancied that she was destined to feel this love; that Djalma must
+therefore deserve it, and that one day whatever was incomprehensible in
+the conduct of the prince would be explained to his advantage. At other
+times, on the contrary, she felt ashamed of excusing Djalma, and the
+consciousness of this weakness was for Adrienne a constant occasion
+for remorse and torture. The victim of all these agonies, she lived in
+perfect solitude.
+
+The cholera soon broke out, startling as a clap of thunder. Too unhappy
+to fear the pestilence on her own account, Adrienne was only moved by
+the sorrows of others. She was amongst the first to contribute to those
+charitable donations, which were now flowing in from all sides in the
+admirable spirit of benevolence. Florine was suddenly attacked by the
+epidemic. In spite of the danger, her mistress insisted on seeing her,
+and endeavored to revive her failing courage. Conquered by this new mark
+of kindness, Florine could no longer conceal the treachery in which she
+had borne a part. Death was about to deliver her from the odious tyranny
+of the people whose yoke weighed upon her, and she was at length in a
+position to reveal everything to Adrienne. The latter thus learned how
+she had been continually betrayed by Florine, and also the cause of the
+sewing-girl's abrupt departure. At these revelations, Adrienne felt her
+affection and tender pity for the poor sempstress greatly increase. By
+her command, the most active steps were taken to discover traces of the
+hunchback; but Florine's confession had a still more important result.
+Justly alarmed at this new evidence of Rodin's machinations, Adrienne
+remembered the projects formed, when, believing herself beloved, the
+instinct of affection had revealed to her the perils to which Djalma and
+other members of the Rennepont family were exposed. To assemble the
+race around her, and bid them rally against the common enemy, such was
+Adrienne's first thought, when she heard the confession of Florine. She
+regarded it as a duty to accomplish this project. In a struggle with
+such dangerous and powerful adversaries as Rodin, Father d'Aigrigny, and
+the Princess de Saint-Dizier, and their allies, Adrienne saw not only
+the praiseworthy and perilous task of unmasking hypocrisy and cupidity,
+but also, if not a consolation, at least a generous diversion in the
+midst of terrible sorrows.
+
+From this moment, a restless, feverish activity took the place of the
+mournful apathy in which the young lady had languished. She called round
+her all the members of her family capable of answering the appeal, and,
+as had been mentioned in the secret note delivered to Father d'Aigrigny,
+Cardoville House soon became the centre of the most active and unceasing
+operations, and also a place of meeting, in which the modes of attack
+and defence were fully discussed. Perfectly correct in all points, the
+secret note of which we have spoken stated, as a mere conjecture, that
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had granted an interview to Djalma. This fact was
+untrue, but the cause which led to the supposition will be explained
+hereafter. Far from such being the case, Mdlle. de Cardoville scarcely
+found, in attending to the great family interests now at stake, a
+momentary diversion from the fatal love, which was slowly undermining
+her health, and with which she so bitterly reproached herself.
+
+The morning of the day on which Adrienne, at length discovering Mother
+Bunch's residence, came so miraculously to rescue her from death,
+Agricola Baudoin had been to Cardoville House to confer on the subject
+of Francis Hardy, and had begged Adrienne to permit him to accompany her
+to the Rue Clovis, whither they repaired in haste.
+
+Thus, once again, there was a noble spectacle, a touching symbol! Mdlle.
+de Cardoville and Mother Bunch, the two extremities of the social chain,
+were united on equal terms--for the sempstress and the fair patrician
+were equal in intelligence and heart--and equal also, because the one
+was the ideal of riches, grace, and beauty, and the other the ideal
+of resignation and unmerited misfortune--and does not a halo rest on
+misfortune borne with courage and dignity? Stretched on her mattress,
+the hunchback appeared so weak, that even if Agricola had not been
+detained on the ground floor with Cephyse, now dying a dreadful death,
+Mdlle. de Cardoville would have waited some time, before inducing Mother
+Bunch to rise and accompany her to her carriage. Thanks to the presence
+of mind and pious fraud of Adrienne, the sewing-girl was persuaded
+that Cephyse had been carried to a neighboring hospital, to receive
+the necessary succors, which promised to be crowned with success. The
+hunchback's faculties recovering slowly from their stupor, she at first
+received this fable without the least suspicion--for she did not even
+know that Agricola had accompanied Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+"And it is to you, lady, that Cephyse and I owe our lives," said she,
+turning her mild and melancholy face towards Adrienne, "you, kneeling in
+this garret, near this couch of misery, where I and my sister meant to
+die--for you assure me, lady, that Cephyse was succored in time."
+
+"Be satisfied! I was told just now that she was recovering her senses."
+
+"And they told her I was living, did they not, lady? Otherwise, she
+would perhaps regret having survived me."
+
+"Be quite easy, my dear girl!" said Adrienne, pressing the poor hands in
+her own, and gazing on her with eyes full of tears; "they have told her
+all that was proper. Do not trouble yourself about anything; only think
+of recovering--and I hope you will yet enjoy that happiness of which you
+have known so little, my poor child."
+
+"How kind you are, lady! After flying from your house--and when you must
+think me so ungrateful!"
+
+"Presently, when you are not so weak, I have a great deal to tell you.
+Just now, it would fatigue you too much. But how do you feel?"
+
+"Better, lady. This fresh air--and then the thought, that, since you are
+come--my poor sister will no more be reduced to despair; for I will
+tell you all, and I am sure you will have pity on Cephyse--will you not,
+lady?"
+
+"Rely upon me, my child," answered Adrienne, forced to dissemble her
+painful embarrassment; "you know I am interested in all that interests
+you. But tell me," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a voice of emotion,
+"before taking this desperate resolution, did you not write to me?"
+
+"Yes, lady."
+
+"Alas!" resumed Adrienne, sorrowfully; "and when you received no
+answer--how cruel, how ungrateful you must have thought me!"
+
+"Oh! never, lady, did I accuse you of such feelings; my poor sister will
+tell you so. You had my gratitude to the last."
+
+"I believe you--for I knew your heart. But how then did you explain my
+silence?"
+
+"I had justly offended you by my sudden departure, lady."
+
+"Offended!--Alas! I never received your letter."
+
+"And yet you know that I wrote to you, lady."
+
+"Yes, my poor girl; I know, also, that you wrote to me at my porter's
+lodge. Unfortunately, he delivered your letter to one of my women, named
+Florine, telling her it came from you."
+
+"Florine! the young woman that was so kind to me!"
+
+"Florine deceived me shamefully; she was sold to my enemies, and acted
+as a spy on my actions."
+
+"She!--Good Heavens!" cried Mother Bunch. "Is it possible?"
+
+"She herself," answered Adrienne, bitterly; "but, after all, we
+must pity as well as blame her. She was forced to obey by a terrible
+necessity, and her confession and repentance secured my pardon before
+her death."
+
+"Then she is dead--so young! so fair!"
+
+"In spite of her faults, I was greatly moved by her end. She confessed
+what she had done, with such heart-rending regrets. Amongst her avowals,
+she told me she had intercepted a letter, in which you asked for an
+interview that might save your sister's life."
+
+"It is true, lady; such were the terms of my letter. What interest had
+they to keep it from you?"
+
+"They feared to see you return to me, my good guardian angel. You loved
+me so tenderly, and my enemies dreaded your faithful affection, so
+wonderfully aided by the admirable instinct of your heart. Ah! I shall
+never forget how well-deserved was the horror with which you were
+inspired by a wretch whom I defended against your suspicions."
+
+"M. Rodin?" said Mother Bunch, with a shudder.
+
+"Yes," replied Adrienne; "but we will not talk of these people now.
+Their odious remembrance would spoil the joy I feel in seeing you
+restored to life--for your voice is less feeble, your cheeks are
+beginning to regain a little color. Thank God! I am so happy to have
+found you once more;--if you knew all that I hope, all that I expect
+from our reunion--for we will not part again--promise me that, in the
+name of our friendship."
+
+"I--your friend!" said Mother Bunch, timidly casting down her eyes.
+
+"A few days before your departure from my house, did I not call you
+my friend, my sister? What is there changed? Nothing, nothing,"
+added Mdlle. de Cardoville, with deep emotion. "One might say, on
+the contrary, that a fatal resemblance in our positions renders your
+friendship even dearer to me. And I shall have it, shall I not. Oh, do
+not refuse it me--I am so much in want of a friend!"
+
+"You, lady? you in want of the friendship of a poor creature like me?"
+
+"Yes," answered Adrienne, as she gazed on the other with an expression
+of intense grief; "nay, more, you are perhaps the only person, to whom
+I could venture to confide my bitter sorrows." So saying, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville colored deeply.
+
+"And how do I deserve such marks of confidence?" asked Mother Bunch,
+more and more surprised.
+
+"You deserve it by the delicacy of your heart, by the steadiness of your
+character," answered Adrienne, with some hesitation; "then--you are a
+woman--and I am certain you will understand what I suffer, and pity me."
+
+"Pity you, lady?" said the other, whose astonishment continued to
+increase. "You, a great lady, and so much envied--I, so humble and
+despised, pity you?"
+
+"Tell me, my poor friend," resumed Adrienne, after some moments of
+silence, "are not the worst griefs those which we dare not avow to
+any one, for fear of raillery and contempt? How can we venture to ask
+interest or pity, for sufferings that we hardly dare avow to ourselves,
+because they make us blush?"
+
+The sewing-girl could hardly believe what she heard. Had her
+benefactress felt, like her, the effects of an unfortunate passion, she
+could not have held any other language. But the sempstress could not
+admit such a supposition; so, attributing to some other cause the
+sorrows of Adrienne, she answered mournfully, whilst she thought of her
+own fatal love for Agricola, "Oh! yes, lady. A secret grief, of which we
+are ashamed, must be frightful--very frightful!"
+
+"But then what happiness to meet, not only a heart noble enough to
+inspire complete confidence, but one which has itself been tried by
+a thousand sorrows, and is capable of affording you pity, support and
+counsel!--Tell me, my dear child," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, as she
+looked attentively at Mother Bunch, "if you were weighed down by one of
+those sorrows, at which one blushes, would you not be happy, very happy,
+to find a kindred soul, to whom you might entrust your griefs, and half
+relieve them by entire and merited confidence?"
+
+For the first time in her life, Mother Bunch regarded Mdlle. de
+Cardoville with a feeling of suspicion and sadness.
+
+The last words of the young lady seemed to her full of meaning
+"Doubtless, she knows my secret," said Mother Bunch to herself;
+"doubtless, my journal has fallen into her hands.--She knows my love
+for Agricola, or at least suspects it. What she has been saying to me is
+intended to provoke my confidence, and to assure herself if she has been
+rightly informed."
+
+These thoughts excited in the workgirl's mind no bitter or ungrateful
+feeling towards her benefactress; but the heart of the unfortunate girl
+was so delicately susceptible on the subject of her fatal passion, that,
+in spite of her deep and tender affection for Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+she suffered cruelly at the thought of Adrienne's being mistress of her
+secret.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. MORE CONFESSIONS.
+
+The fancy, at first so painful, that Mdlle. de Cardoville was informed
+of her love for Agricola was soon exchanged in the hunchbacks heart,
+thanks to the generous instincts of that rare and excellent creature,
+for a touching regret, which showed all her attachment and veneration
+for Adrienne.
+
+"Perhaps," said Mother Bunch to herself, "conquered by the influence
+of the adorable kindness of my protectress, I might have made to her a
+confession which I could make to none other, and revealed a secret which
+I thought to carry with me to my grave. It would, at least, have been a
+mark of gratitude to Mdlle. de Cardoville; but, unfortunately, I am
+now deprived of the sad comfort of confiding my only secret to my
+benefactress. And then--however generous may be her pity for me, however
+intelligent her affection, she cannot--she, that is so fair and so
+much admired--she cannot understand how frightful is the position of a
+creature like myself, hiding in the depth of a wounded heart, a love at
+once hopeless and ridiculous. No, no--in spite of the delicacy of her
+attachment, my benefactress must unconsciously hurt my feelings, even
+whilst she pities me--for only sympathetic sorrows can console each
+other. Alas! why did she not leave me to die?"
+
+These reflections presented themselves to the thinker's mind as rapidly
+as thought could travel. Adrienne observed her attentively; she remarked
+that the sewing-girl's countenance, which had lately brightened up, was
+again clouded, and expressed a feeling of painful humiliation. Terrified
+at this relapse into gloomy dejection, the consequences of which might
+be serious, for Mother Bunch was still very weak, and, as it were,
+hovering on the brink of the grave, Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed
+hastily: "My friend, do not you think with me, that the most cruel and
+humiliating grief admits of consolation, when it can be entrusted to a
+faithful and devoted heart?"
+
+"Yes, lady," said the young sempstress, bitterly; "but the heart which
+suffers in silence, should be the only judge of the moment for making
+so painful a confession. Until then, it would perhaps be more humane to
+respect its fatal secret, even if one had by chance discovered it."
+
+"You are right, my child," said Adrienne, sorrowfully, "if I choose this
+solemn moment to entrust you with a very painful secret, it is that,
+when you have heard me, I am sure you will set more value on your life,
+as knowing how much I need your tenderness, consolation, and pity."
+
+At these words, the other half raised herself on the mattress, and
+looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville in amazement. She could scarcely believe
+what she heard; far from designing to intrude upon her confidence, it
+was her protectress who was to make the painful confession, and who came
+to implore pity and consolation from her!
+
+"What!" stammered she; "you, lady!"
+
+"I come to tell you that I suffer, and am ashamed of my sufferings.
+Yes," added the young lady, with a touching expression, "yes--of all
+confessions, I am about to make the most painful--I love--and I blush
+for my love."
+
+"Like myself!" cried Mother Bunch, involuntarily, clasping her hands
+together.
+
+"I love," resumed Adrienne, with a long-pent-up grief; "I love, and am
+not beloved--and my love is miserable, is impossible--it consumes me--it
+kills me--and I dare not confide to any one the fatal secret!"
+
+"Like me," repeated the other, with a fixed look. "She--a queen in
+beauty, rank, wealth, intelligence--suffers like me. Like me, poor
+unfortunate creature! she loves, and is not loved again."
+
+"Well, yes! like you, I love and am not loved again," cried Mdlle. de
+Cardoville; "was I wrong in saying, that to you alone I could confide
+my secret--because, having suffered the same pangs, you alone can pity
+them?"
+
+"Then, lady," said Mother Bunch, casting down her eyes, and recovering
+from her first amazement, "you knew--"
+
+"I knew all, my poor child--but never should I have mentioned your
+secret, had I not had one to entrust you with, of a still more painful
+nature. Yours is cruel, but mine is humiliating. Oh, my sister!" added
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a tone impossible to describe, "misfortune,
+you, see, blends and confounds together what are called distinctions of
+rank and fortune--and often those whom the world envies are reduced by
+suffering far below the poorest and most humble, and have to seek from
+the latter pity and consolation."
+
+Then, drying her tears, which nosy flowed abundantly, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville resumed, in a voice of emotion: "Come, sister! courage,
+courage! let us love and sustain each other. Let this sad and mysterious
+bond unite us forever."
+
+"Oh, lady! forgive me. But now that you know the secret of my life,"
+said the workgirl, casting down her eyes, and unable to vanquish
+her confusion, "it seems to me, that I can never look at you without
+blushing."
+
+"And why? because you love Agricola?" said Adrienne. "Then I must die
+of shame before you, since, less courageous than you, I had not the
+strength to suffer and be resigned, and so conceal my love in the depths
+of my heart. He that I love, with a love henceforth deprived of hope,
+knew of that love and despised it--preferring to me a woman, the very
+choice of whom was a new and grievous insult, if I am not much deceived
+by appearances. I sometimes hope that I am deceived on this point. Now
+tell me--is it for you to blush?"
+
+"Alas, lady! who could tell you all this?"
+
+"Which you only entrusted to your journal? Well, then--it was the dying
+Florine who confessed her misdeeds. She had been base enough to steal
+your papers, forced to this odious act, by the people who had dominion
+over her. But she had read your journal--and as every good feeling was
+not dead within her, your admirable resignation, your melancholy and
+pious love, had left such an impression on her mind, that she was able
+to repeat whole passages to me on her death bed, and thus to explain the
+cause of your sudden disappearance--for she had no doubt that the fear
+of seeing your love for Agricola divulged had been the cause of your
+flight."
+
+"Alas! it is but too true, lady."
+
+"Oh, yes!" answered Adrienne, bitterly; "those who employed the wretched
+girl to act as she did, well knew the effect of the blow. It was not
+their first attempt. They reduced you to despair, they would have killed
+you, because you were devoted to me, and because you had guessed their
+intentions. Oh! these black-gowns are implacable, and their power is
+great!" said Adrienne, shuddering.
+
+"It is fearful, lady."
+
+"But do not be alarmed, dear child; you see, that the arms of the wicked
+have turned against themselves; for the moment I knew the cause of your
+flight, you became dearer to me than ever. From that time I made every
+exertion to find out where you were; after long efforts, it was only
+this morning that the person I had employed succeeded in discovering
+that you inhabited this house. Agricola was with me when I heard it, and
+instantly asked to accompany me."
+
+"Agricola!" said Mother Bunch, clasping her hands; "he came--"
+
+"Yes, my child--be calm. Whilst I attended to you, he was busy with your
+poor sister. You will soon see him."
+
+"Alas, lady!" resumed the hunchback, in alarm. "He doubtless knows--"
+
+"Your love! No, no; be satisfied. Only think of the happiness of again
+seeing your good and worthy brother."
+
+"Ah, lady! may he never know what caused me so much shame, that I was
+like to die of it. Thank God, he is not aware of it!"
+
+"Then let us have no more sad thoughts, my child. Only remember, that
+this worthy brother came here in time to save us from everlasting
+regrets--and you from a great fault. Oh! I do not speak of the
+prejudices of the world, with regard to the right of every creature to
+return to heaven a life that has become too burdensome!--I only say that
+you ought not to have died, because those who love you, and whom you
+love, were still in need of your assistance."
+
+"I thought you happy; Agricola was married to the girl of his choice,
+who will, I am sure, make him happy. To whom could I be useful?"
+
+"First, to myself, as you see--and then, who tells you that Agricola
+will never have need of you? Who tells you, that his happiness, or that
+of his family, will last forever, and will not be tried by cruel shocks?
+And even if those you love had been destined to be always happy, could
+their happiness be complete without you? And would not your death, with
+which they would perhaps have reproached themselves, have left behind it
+endless regrets?"
+
+"It is true, lady," answered the other, "I was wrong--the dizziness of
+despair had seized me--frightful misery weighed upon us--we had not
+been able to find work for some days--we lived on the charity of a poor
+woman, and her the cholera carried off. To-morrow or next day, we must
+have died of hunger."
+
+"Die of hunger!--and you knew where I lived!"
+
+"I had written to you, lady, and receiving no answer, I thought you
+offended at my abrupt departure."
+
+"Poor, dear child! you must have been, as you say, seized with dizziness
+in that terrible moment; so that I have not the courage to reproach you
+for doubting me a single instant. How can I blame you? Did I not myself
+think of terminating my life?"
+
+"You, lady!" cried the hunchback.
+
+"Yes, I thought of it--when they came to tell me, that Florine, dying,
+wished to speak to me. I heard what she had to say; her revelations
+changed my projects. This dark and mournful life which had become
+insupportable to me, was suddenly lighted up. The sense of duty woke
+within me. You were no doubt a prey to horrible misery; it was my duty
+to seek and save you. Florine's confessions unveiled to me the new plots
+of the enemies of my scattered family, dispersed by sorrows and cruel
+losses; it was my duty to warn them of their danger, and to unite them
+against the common enemy. I had been the victim of odious manoeuvres:
+it was my duty to punish their authors, for fear that, encouraged by
+impunity, these black-gowns should make other victims. Then the sense of
+duty gave me strength, and I was able to rouse myself from my lethargy.
+With the help of Abbe Gabriel, a sublime, oh! a sublime priest--the
+ideal of a true Christian--the worthy brother of Agricola--I
+courageously entered on the struggle. What shall I say to you, my child?
+The performance of these duties, the hope of finding you again, have
+been some relief to me in my trouble. If I was not consoled, I was at
+least occupied. Your tender friendship, the example of your resignation,
+will do the rest--I think so--I am sure so--and I shall forget this
+fatal love."
+
+At the moment Adrienne pronounced these words, rapid footsteps were
+heard upon the stairs, and a young, clear voice exclaimed: "Oh! dear me,
+poor Mother Bunch! How lucky I have come just now! If only I could be of
+some use to her!"
+
+Almost immediately, Rose-Pompon entered the garret with precipitation.
+Agricola soon followed the grisette, and pointing to the open window,
+tried to make Adrienne understand by signs, that she was not to mention
+to the girl the deplorable end of the Bacchanal Queen. This pantomime
+was lost on Mdlle. de Cardoville. Adrienne's heart swelled with grief,
+indignation, pride, as she recognized the girl she had seen at the Porte
+Saint-Martin in company with Djalma, and who alone was the cause of the
+dreadful sufferings she endured since that fatal evening. And, strange
+irony of fate! it was at the very moment when Adrienne had just made the
+humiliating and cruel confession of her despised love, that the woman,
+to whom she believed herself sacrificed, appeared before her.
+
+If the surprise of Mdlle. de Cardoville was great, Rose-Pompon's was not
+less so. Not only did she recognize in Adrienne the fair young lady with
+the golden locks, who had sat opposite to her at the theatre, on the
+night of the adventure of the black panther, but she had serious reasons
+for desiring most ardently this unexpected interview. It is impossible
+to paint the look of malignant joy and triumph, that she affected to
+cast upon Adrienne. The first impulse of Mdlle. de Cardoville was to
+quit the room. But she could not bear to leave Mother Bunch at this
+moment, or to give, in the presence of Agricola, her reasons for such an
+abrupt departure, and moreover, an inexplicable and fatal curiosity held
+her back, in spite of her offended pride. She remained, therefore, and
+was about to examine closely, to hear and to judge, this rival, who
+had nearly occasioned her death, to whom, in her jealous agony, she had
+ascribed so many different aspects, in order to explain Djalma's love
+for such a creature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. THE RIVALS.
+
+Rose-Pompon, whose presence caused such deep emotion in Mdlle. de
+Cardoville, was dressed in the most showy and extravagant bad taste. Her
+very small, narrow, rose-colored satin bonnet, placed so forward over
+her face as almost to touch the tip of her little nose, left uncovered
+behind half of her light, silky hair; her plaid dress, of an excessively
+broad pattern, was open in front, and the almost transparent gauze,
+rather too honest in its revelations, hardly covered the charms of the
+form beneath.
+
+The grisette having run all the way upstairs, held in her hands the ends
+of her large blue shawl, which, falling from her shoulders, had slid
+down to her wasp-like waist, and there been stopped by the swell of the
+figure. If we enter into these details, it is to explain how, at the
+sight of this pretty creature, dressed in so impertinent and almost
+indecent, a fashion, Mdlle. de Cardoville, who thought she saw in her a
+successful rival, felt her indignation, grief, and shame redoubled.
+
+But judge of the surprise and confusion of Adrienne, when Mdlle.
+Rose Pompon said to her, with the utmost freedom and pertness, "I am
+delighted to see you, madame. You and I must have a long talk together.
+Only I must begin by kissing poor Mother Bunch--with your permission,
+madame!"
+
+To understand the tone and manner with which this word, "madame" was
+pronounced, you must have been present at some stormy discussion between
+two Rose-Pompons, jealous of each other; then you would be able to judge
+how much provoking hostility may be compressed into the word "madame,"
+under certain circumstances. Amazed at the impudence of Rose-Pompon,
+Mdlle. de Cardoville remained mute; whilst Agricola, entirely occupied
+with the interest he took in the workgirl, who had never withdrawn her
+eyes from him since he entered the room, and with the remembrance of
+the painful scene he had just quitted, whispered to Adrienne, without
+remarking the grisette's effrontery, "Alas, lady! it is all over.
+Cephyse has just breathed her last sigh, without recovering her senses."
+
+"Unfortunate girl!" said Adrienne, with emotion; and for the moment she
+forgot Rose-Pompon.
+
+"We must keep this sad news from Mother Bunch, and only let her know it
+hereafter, with great caution," resumed Agricola. "Luckily, little Rose
+Pompon knows nothing about it."
+
+And he pointed to the grisette, who was now stooping down by the side
+of the workgirl. On hearing Agricola speak so familiarly of Rose-Pompon,
+Adrienne's amazement increased. It is impossible to describe what she
+felt; yet, strangely enough, her sufferings grew less and less, and her
+anxiety diminished, as she listened to the chatter of the grisette.
+
+"Oh, my good dear!" said the latter, with as much volubility as emotion,
+while her pretty blue eyes were filled with tears; "is it possible that
+you did so stupid a thing? Do not poor people help one another? Could
+you not apply to me? You knew that others are welcome to whatever is
+mine, and I would have made a raffle of Philemon's bazaar," added this
+singular girl, with a burst of feeling, at once sincere, touching, and
+grotesque; "I would have sold his three boots, pipes, boating-costume,
+bed, and even his great drinking-glass, and at all events you should not
+have been brought to such an ugly pass. Philemon would not have minded,
+for he is a good fellow; and if he had minded, it would have been all
+the same. Thank heaven! we are not married. I am only wishing to remind
+you that you should have thought of little Rose-Pompon."
+
+"I know you are obliging and kind, miss," said Mother Bunch: for she had
+heard from her sister that Rose-Pompon, like so many of her class, had a
+warm and generous heart.
+
+"After all," resumed the grisette, wiping with the back of her hand the
+tip of her little nose, down which a tear was trickling, "you may tell
+me that you did not know where I had taken up my quarters. It's a queer
+story, I can tell you. When I say queer," added Rose-Pompon, with a deep
+sigh, "it is quite the contrary--but no matter: I need not trouble you
+with that. One thing is certain; you are getting better--and you and
+Cephyse will not do such a thing again. She is said to be very weak. Can
+I not see her yet, M. Agricola?
+
+"No," said the smith, with embarrassment, for Mother Bunch kept her eyes
+fixed upon him; "you must have patience."
+
+"But I may see her to-day, Agricola?" exclaimed the hunchback.
+
+"We will talk about that. Only be calm, I entreat."
+
+"Agricola is right; you must be reasonable, my good dear," resumed Rose
+Pompon; "we will wait patiently. I can wait too, for I have to talk
+presently to this lady;" and Rose-Pompon glanced at Adrienne with the
+expression of an angry cat. "Yes, yes; I can wait; for I long to tell
+Cephyse also that she may reckon upon me." Here Rose-Pompon bridled up
+very prettily, and thus continued, "Do not be uneasy! It is the least
+one can do, when one is in a good position, to share the advantages with
+one's friends, who are not so well off. It would be a fine thing to keep
+one's happiness to one's self! to stuff it with straw, and put it under
+a glass, and let no one touch it! When I talk of happiness, it's only
+to make talk; it is true in one sense; but to another, you see, my good
+dear--Bah! I am only seventeen--but no matter--I might go on talking
+till tomorrow, and you would not be any the wiser. So let me kiss you
+once more, and don't be down-hearted--nor Cephyse either, do you hear?
+for I shall be close at hand."
+
+And, stooping still lower, Rose-Pompon cordially embraced Mother Bunch.
+It is impossible to express what Mdlle. de Cardoville felt during this
+conversation, or rather during this monologue of the grisette on the
+subject of the attempted suicide. The eccentric jargon of Mdlle. Rose
+Pompon, her liberal facility in disposing of Philemon's bazaar, to the
+owner of which (as she said) she was luckily not married--the goodness
+of her heart, which revealed itself in her offers of service--her
+contrasts, her impertinence, her drollery--all this was so new and
+inexplicable to Mdlle. de Cardoville, that she remained for some time
+mute and motionless with surprise. Such, then, was the creature to whom
+Djalma had sacrificed her!
+
+If Adrienne's first impression at sight of Rose-Pompon had been horribly
+painful, reflection soon awakened doubts, which were to become shortly
+ineffable hopes. Remembering the interview she had overheard between
+Rodin and Djalma, when, concealed in the conservatory, she had wished
+to prove the Jesuit's fidelity, Adrienne, asked herself if it was
+reasonable, if it was possible to believe, that the prince, whose ideas
+of love seemed to be so poetical, so elevated, so pure, could find any
+charm in the disjointed and silly chat of this young girl? Adrienne
+could not hesitate; she pronounced the thing impossible, from the moment
+she had seen her rival near, and witnessed her style both of manners
+and conversation, which, without detracting from the prettiness of
+her features, gave them a trivial and not very attractive character.
+Adrienne's doubts with regard to the deep love of the prince for Rose
+Pompon were hence soon changed to complete incredulity. Endowed with
+too much sense and penetration, not to perceive that this apparent
+connection, so inconceivable on the part of Djalma, must conceal some
+mystery, Mdlle. de Cardoville felt her hopes revive. As this consoling
+thought arose in her mind, her heart, until now so painfully oppressed,
+began once more to dilate; she felt vague aspirations towards a better
+future; and yet, cruelly warned by the past, she feared to yield too
+readily to a mere illusion, for she remembered the notorious fact that
+the prince had really appeared in public with this girl. But now that
+Mdlle. de Cardoville could fully appreciate what she was, she found the
+conduct of the prince only the more incomprehensible. And how can we
+judge soundly and surely of that which is enveloped in mystery? And then
+a secret presentiment told her, that it would, perhaps, be beside the
+couch of the poor sempstress, whom she had just saved from death, that,
+by a providential coincidence, she would learn the secret on which
+depended the happiness of her life.
+
+The emotions which agitated she heart of Adrienne, became so violent,
+that her fine face was flushed with a bright red, her bosom heaved, and
+her large, black eyes, lately dimmed by sadness, once more shone with a
+mild radiance. She waited with inexpressible impatience for what was to
+follow. In the interview, with which Rose-Pompon had threatened her,
+and which a few minutes before Adrienne would have declined with all the
+dignity of legitimate indignation, she now hoped to find the explanation
+of a mystery, which it was of such importance for her to clear up. After
+once more tenderly embracing Mother Bunch, Rose-Pompon got up from the
+ground, and, turning towards Adrienne, eyed her from head to foot, with
+the utmost coolness, and said to her, in a somewhat impertinent tone:
+"It is now our turn, madame"--the word "madame" still pronounced
+with the accent before described--"we have a little matter to settle
+together."
+
+"I am at your order," answered Adrienne, with much mildness and
+simplicity.
+
+At sight of the triumphant and decisive air of Rose-Pompon, and on
+hearing her challenge to Mdlle. de Cardoville, the worthy Agricola,
+after exchanging a few words with Mother Bunch, opened his eyes and ears
+very wide, and remained staring in amazement at the effrontery of the
+grisette; then, advancing towards her, he whispered, as he plucked her
+by the sleeve: "I say, are you mad? Do you know to whom you speak?"
+
+"Well! what then? Is not one pretty woman worth another! I say that for
+the lady. She will not eat me, I suppose," replied Rose-Pompon, aloud,
+and with an air of defiance. "I have to talk with madame, here. I am
+sure, she knows why and wherefore. If not, I will tell her; it will not
+take me long."
+
+Adrienne, who feared some ridiculous exposure on the subject of Djalma,
+in the presence of Agricola, made a sign to the latter, and thus
+answered the grisette: "I am ready to hear you, miss, but not in this
+place. You will understand why."
+
+"Very well, madame, I have my key. You can come to any apartments"--the
+last word pronounced with an air of ostentatious importance.
+
+"Let us go then to your apartments, miss since you to me the honor to
+receive me there," answered Mdlle. de Cardoville, in her mild, sweet
+voice, and with a slight inclination of the head, so full of exquisite
+politeness, that Rose-Pompon was daunted, notwithstanding all her
+effrontery.
+
+"What, lady!" said Agricola to Adrienne; "you are good enough--"
+
+"M. Agricola," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, interrupting him, "please to
+remain with our poor friend: I shall soon be back."
+
+Then, approaching Mother Bunch, who shared in Agricola's astonishment
+she said to her: "Excuse me for leaving you a few seconds. Only regain a
+little strength, and, when I return, I will take you home with me, dear
+sister."
+
+Then, turning towards Rose-Pompon, who was more and more surprised at
+hearing so fine a lady call the workgirl her sister, she added: "I am
+ready whenever you please, mademoiselle."
+
+"Beg pardon, madame, if I go first to show you the way, but it's a
+regular break-neck sort of a place," answered Rose-Pompon, pressing her
+elbows to her sides, and screwing up her lips to prove that she was no
+stranger to polite manners and fine language. And the two rivals quitted
+the garret together, leaving Agricola alone with Mother Bunch.
+
+Luckily, the disfigured remains of the Bacchanal Queen had been
+carried into Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, so that the crowd of
+spectators, always attracted by any fatal event, had assembled in front
+of the house; and Rose-Pompon, meeting no one in the little court she
+had to traverse with Adrienne, continued in ignorance of the tragical
+death of her old friend Cephyse. In a few moments the grisette and
+Mdlle. de Cardoville had reached Philemon's apartment. This singular
+abode remained in the same state of picturesque disorder in which
+Rose-Pompon had left it, when Ninny Moulin came to fetch her to act the
+heroine of a mysterious adventure.
+
+Adrienne, completely ignorant of the eccentric modes of life of students
+and their companions, could not, in spite of the thoughts which occupied
+her mind, forebear examining, with a mixture of surprise and curiosity,
+this strange and grotesque chaos, composed of the most dissimilar
+objects--disguises for masked balls, skulls with pipes in their mouths,
+odd boots standing on book shelves, monstrous bottles, women's clothes,
+ends of tobacco pipes, etc., etc. To the first astonishment of Adrienne
+succeeded an impression of painful repugnance. The young lady felt
+herself uneasy and out of place in this abode, not of poverty, but
+disorder; whilst, on the contrary, the sewing-girl's miserable garret
+had caused her no such feeling.
+
+Rose-Pompon, notwithstanding all her airs, was considerably troubled
+when she found herself alone with Mdlle, de Cardoville; the rare beauty
+of the young patrician, her fashionable look, the elegance of her
+manners, the style, both dignified and affable, with which she had
+answered the impertinent address of the grisette, began to have their
+effect upon the latter, who, being moreover a good-natured girl, had
+been touched at hearing Mdlle. de Cardoville call the hunchback "friend
+and sister." Without knowing exactly who Adrienne was, Rose-Pompon
+was not ignorant that she belonged to the richest and highest class
+of society; she felt already some remorse at having attacked her so
+cavalierly; and her intentions, at first very hostile with regard to
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, were gradually much modified. Yet, being very
+obstinate, and not wishing to appear to submit to an influence that
+offended her pride, Rose-Pompon endeavored to recover her assurance;
+and, having bolted the door, she said to Adrienne: "Pray do me the favor
+to sit down, madame"--still with the intention of showing that she was
+no stranger to refined manners and conversation.
+
+Mdlle. de Cardoville was about mechanically to take a chair, when Rose
+Pompon, worthy to practise those ancient virtues of hospitality, which
+regarded even an enemy as sacred in the person of a guest, cried out
+hastily: "Don't take that chair, madame; it wants a leg."
+
+Adrienne laid her hand on another chair.
+
+"Nor that either; the back is quite loose," again exclaimed Rose-Pompon.
+And she spoke the truth; for the chair-back, which was made in the form
+of a lyre, remained in the hands of Mdlle. de Cardoville, who said, as
+she replaced it discreetly in its former position: "I think, miss, that
+we can very well talk standing."
+
+"As you please, madame," replied Rose-Pompon, steadying herself the more
+bravely the more uneasy she felt. And the interview of the lady and the
+grisette began in this fashion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. THE INTERVIEW.
+
+After a minute's hesitation, Rose-Pompon said to Adrienne, whose heart
+was beating violently: "I will tell you directly, madame, what I have
+on my mind. I should not have gone out of my way to seek you, but, as I
+happen to fall in with you, it is very natural I should take advantage
+of it."
+
+"But, miss," said Adrienne, mildly, "may I at least know the subject of
+the conversation we are to have together?"
+
+"Yes, madame," replied Rose-Pompon, affecting an air of still more
+decided confidence; "first of all, you must not suppose I am unhappy, or
+going to make a scene of jealousy, or cry like a forsaken damsel. Do not
+flatter yourself! Thank heaven, I have no reason to complain of Prince
+Charming--that is the pet name I gave him--on the contrary, he has made
+me very happy. If I left him, it was against his will, and because I
+chose."
+
+So saying, Rose-Pompon, whose heart was swelling in spite of her fine
+airs, could not repress a sigh.
+
+"Yes, madame," she resumed, "I left him because I chose--for he quite
+doted on me. If I had liked, he would have married me--yes, madame,
+married me--so much the worse, if that gives you pain. Though, when I
+say 'so much the worse,' it is true that I meant to pain you. To be sure
+I did--but then, just now when I saw you so kind to poor Mother Bunch,
+though I was certainly in the right, still I felt something. However, to
+cut matters short, it is clear that I detest you, and that you deserve
+it," added Rose-Pompon, stamping her foot.
+
+From all this it resulted, even for a person much less sagacious than
+Adrienne, and much less interested in discovering the truth, that Rose
+Pompon, notwithstanding her triumphant airs in speaking of him whom she
+represented as so much attached to her, and even anxious to wed her,
+was in reality completely disappointed, and was now taking refuge in a
+deliberate falsehood. It was evident that she was not loved, and that
+nothing but violent jealousy had induced her to desire this interview
+with Mdlle. de Cardoville, in order to make what is vulgarly called a
+scene, considering Adrienne (the reason will be explained presently) as
+her successful rival. But Rose-Pompon, having recovered her good-nature,
+found it very difficult to continue the scene in question, particularly
+as, for many reasons, she felt overawed by Adrienne.
+
+Though she had expected, if not the singular speech of the grisette, at
+least something of the same result--for she felt it was impossible that
+the prince could entertain a serious attachment for this girl--Mdlle. de
+Cardoville was at first delighted to hear the confirmation of her hopes
+from the lips of her rival; but suddenly these hopes were succeeded by a
+cruel apprehension, which we will endeavor to explain. What Adrienne had
+just heard ought to have satisfied her completely. Sure that the heart
+of Djalma had never ceased to belong to her, she ought, according to
+the customs and opinions of the world, to have cared little if, in
+the effervescence of an ardent youth, he had chanced to yield to some
+ephemeral caprice for this creature, who was, after all, very pretty
+and desirable--the more especially as he had now repaired his error by
+separating from her.
+
+Notwithstanding these good reasons, such an error of the senses would
+not have been pardoned by Adrienne. She did not understand that complete
+separation of the body and soul that would make the one exempt from the
+stains of the other. She did not think it a matter of indifference
+to toy with one woman whilst you were thinking of another. Her young,
+chaste, passionate love demanded an absolute fealty--a fealty as just in
+the eyes of heaven and nature as it may be ridiculous and foolish in the
+eyes of man. For the very reason that she cherished a refined religion
+of the senses, and revered them as an adorable and divine manifestation,
+Adrienne had all sorts of delicate scruples and nice repugnances,
+unknown to the austere spirituality of those ascetic prudes who despise
+vile matter too much to take notice of its errors, and allow it to
+grovel in filth, to show the contempt in which they hold it. Mdlle. de
+Cardoville was not one of those wonderfully modest creatures who would
+die of confusion rather than say plainly that they wished for a young
+and handsome husband, at once ardent and pure. It is true that they
+generally marry old, ugly, and corrupted men, and make up for it
+by taking two or three lovers six months after. But Adrienne felt
+instinctively how much of virginal and celestial freshness there is in
+the equal innocence of two loving and passionate beings--what guarantees
+for the future in the remembrance which a man preserves of his first
+love!
+
+We say, then, that Adrienne was only half-satisfied, though convinced by
+the vexation of Rose-Pompon that Djalma had never entertained a serious
+attachment for the grisette.
+
+"And why do you detest me, miss?" said Adrienne mildly, when Rose-Pompon
+had finished her speech.
+
+"Oh! bless me, madame!" replied the latter, forgetting altogether her
+assumption of triumph, and yielding to the natural sincerity of her
+character; "pretend that you don't know why I detest you!--Oh, yes!
+people go and pick bouquets from the jaws of a panther for people that
+they care nothing about, don't they? And if it was only that!" added
+Rose-Pompon, who was gradually getting animated, and whose pretty face,
+at first contracted into a sullen pout, now assumed an expression of
+real and yet half-comic sorrow.
+
+"And if it was only the nosegay!" resumed she. "Though it gave me a
+dreadful turn to see Prince Charming leap like a kid upon the stage, I
+might have said to myself: 'Pooh! these Indians have their own way of
+showing politeness. Here, a lady drops her nosegay, and a gentleman
+picks it up and gives it to her; but in India it is quite another thing;
+the man picks up the nosegay, and does not return it to the woman--he
+only kills a panther before her eyes.' Those are good manners in that
+country, I suppose; but what cannot be good manners anywhere is to treat
+a woman as I have been treated. And all thanks to you, madame!"
+
+These complaints of Rose-Pompon, at once bitter and laughable, did
+not at all agree with what she had previously stated as to Djalma's
+passionate love for her; but Adrienne took care not to point out this
+contradiction, and said to her, mildly: "You must be mistaken, miss,
+when you suppose that I had anything to do with your troubles. But, in
+any case, I regret sincerely that you should have been ill-treated by
+any one."
+
+"If you think I have been beaten, you are quite wrong," exclaimed Rose
+Pompon. "Ah! well, I am sure! No, it is not that. But I am certain that,
+had it not been for you, Prince Charming would have got to love me
+a little. I am worthy of the trouble, after all--and then there are
+different sorts of love--I am not so very particular--not even so much
+as that," added Rose-Pompon, snapping her fingers.
+
+"Ah!" she continued, "when Ninny Moulin came to fetch me, and brought
+me jewels and laces to persuade me to go with him, he was quite right in
+saying there was no harm in his offers."
+
+"Ninny Moulin?" asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, becoming more and more
+interested; "who is this Ninny Moulin, miss?"
+
+"A religious writer," answered Rose-Pompon, pouting; "the right-hand man
+of a lot of old sacristans, whose money he takes on pretense of writing
+about morality and religion. A fine morality it is!"
+
+At these words--"a religious writer"--"sacristans" Adrienne instantly
+divined some new plot of Rodin or Father d'Aigrigny, of which she and
+Djalma were to have been the victims. She began vaguely to perceive the
+real state of the case, as she resumed: "But, miss, under what pretence
+could this man take you away with him?"
+
+"He came to fetch me, and said I need not fear for my virtue, and was
+only to make myself look pretty. So I said to myself: 'Philemon's out of
+town, and it's very dull here all alone: This seems a droll affair;
+what can I risk by it?'--Alas! I didn't know what I risked," added
+Rose Pompon, with a sigh. "Well! Ninny Moulin takes me away in a fine
+carriage. We stop in the Place du Palais-Royal. A sullen-looking man,
+with a yellow face, gets up in the room of Ninny Moulin, and takes me to
+the house of Prince Charming. When I saw him--la! he was so handsome,
+so very handsome, that I was quite dizzy-like; and he had such a kind,
+noble air, that I said to myself, 'Well! there will be some credit if
+I remain a good girl now!'--I did not know what a true word I was
+speaking. I have been good--oh! worse than good."
+
+"What, miss! do you regret having been so virtuous?"
+
+"Why, you see, I regret, at least, that I have not had the pleasure of
+refusing. But how can you refuse, when nothing is asked--when you are
+not even thought worth one little loving word?"
+
+"But, miss, allow me to observe to you that the indifference of which
+you complain does not see to have prevented your making a long stay in
+the house in question."
+
+"How should I know why the prince kept me there, or took me out riding
+with him, or to the play? Perhaps it is the fashion in his savage
+country to have a pretty girl by your side, and to pay no attention to
+her at all!"
+
+"But why, then, did you remain, miss?"
+
+"Why did I remain?" said Rose-Pompon, stamping her loot with vexation.
+"I remained because, without knowing how it happened, I began to get
+very fond of Prince Charming; and what is queer enough, I, who am as gay
+as a lark, loved him because he was so sorrowful, which shows that it
+was a serious matter. At last, one day, I could hold out no longer. I
+said: 'Never mind; I don't care for the consequences. Philemon, I am
+sure, is having his fun in the country.' That set my mind at ease. So
+one morning, I dress myself in my best, all very pretty, look in my
+glass, and say: 'Well, that will do--he can't stand that! and, going to
+his room, I tell him all that passes through my head; I laugh, I cry--at
+last I tell him that I adore him. What do you think he answers, in his
+mild voice, and as cold as a piece of marble? Why, 'Poor child--poor
+child--poor child!'" added Rose-Pompon, with indignation; "neither more
+nor less than if I had come to complain to him of the toothache. But
+the worst of it is that I am sure, if he were not in love elsewhere, he
+would be all fire and gunpowder. Only now he is so sad, so dejected!"
+
+Then, pausing a moment, Rose-Pompon added: "No, I will not tell
+you that; you would be too pleased." But, after another pause, she
+continued: "Well, never mind; I will tell you, though"; and this
+singular girl looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with a mixture of sympathy
+and deference. "Why should I keep it from you? I began by riding
+the high horse, and saying that the prince wished to marry me; and I
+finished by confessing that he almost turned me out. Well, it's not my
+fault; when I try to fib, I am sure to get confused. So, madame, this is
+the plain truth:--When I met you at poor Mother Bunch's, I was at first
+as angry as a little turkey-cock; but when I heard you, that are such a
+fine great lady, speak so kindly to the poor girl, and treat her as your
+sister, do what I would, my anger began to go away. Since we have
+been here, I have done my utmost to get it up again; but I find it
+impossible, and the more I see the difference between us, the more I
+perceive that Prince Charming was right in thinking so much of you. For
+you must know, madame, that he is over head and ears in love with you.
+I don't say so merely because he killed the panther for you at the
+Porte-Saint-Martin; but if you knew all the tricks he played with your
+bouquet, and how he will sit up all night weeping in that room where he
+saw you for the first time--and then your portrait, that he has
+drawn upon glass, after the fashion of his country, and so many other
+things--the fact is, that I, who was fond of him, and saw all this was
+at first in a great rage; but afterwards it was so touching that it
+brought the tears into my eyes. Yes, madame, just as it does now, when
+I merely think of the poor prince. Oh, madame!" added Rose-Pompon, her
+eyes swimming in tears, and with such an expression of sincere interest,
+that Adrienne was much moved by it; "oh, madame, you look so mild and
+good, that you will not make this poor prince miserable. Pray love him a
+little bit; what can it matter to you?"
+
+So saying, Rose-Pompon, with a perfectly simple, though too familiar,
+gesture, took hold of Adrienne's hand, as if to enforce her request. It
+had required great self-command in Mdlle. de Cardoville to repress the
+rush of joy that was mounting from her heart to her lips, to check the
+torrent of questions which she burned to address to Rose-Pompon, and to
+restrain the sweet tears of happiness that for some seconds had trembled
+in her eyes; and, strangely enough, when Rose-Pompon took her hand,
+Adrienne, instead of withdrawing it, pressed the offered hand almost
+affectionately, and led her towards the window, as if to examine her
+sweet face more attentively.
+
+On entering the room, the grisette had thrown her bonnet and shawl down
+upon the bed, so that Adrienne could admire the thick and silky masses
+of light hair that crowned the fresh face of the charming girl, with
+its firm, rosy cheeks, its mouth as red as a cherry, and its large blue
+laughing eyes; and, thanks to the somewhat scanty dress of Rose-Pompon,
+Adrienne could fully appreciate the various graces of her nymph-like
+figure. Strange as it may appear, Adrienne was delighted at finding
+the girl still prettier than she had at first imagined. The stoical
+indifference of Djalma to so attractive a creature was the best proof of
+the sincerity of the passion by which he was actuated.
+
+Having taken the hand of Adrienne, Rose-Pompon was herself confused and
+surprised at the kindness with which Mdlle. de Cardoville permitted
+this familiarity. Emboldened by this indulgence, and by the silence of
+Adrienne, who for some moments had been contemplating her with almost
+grateful benevolence, the grisette resumed: "Oh, you will not refuse,
+madame? You will take pity on this poor prince?"
+
+We cannot tell how Adrienne would have answered this indiscreet question
+of Rose-Pompon, for suddenly a loud, wild, shrill, piercing sound,
+evidently intended to imitate the crowing of a cock, was heard close to
+the door of the room.
+
+Adrienne started in alarm; but the countenance of Rose Pompon, just now
+so sad, brightened up joyously at this signal, and, clapping her hands
+she exclaimed, "It is Philemon!"
+
+"What--who?" said Adrienne, hastily.
+
+"My lover; oh, the monster! he must have come upstairs on tiptoe, to
+take me by surprise with his crowing. Just like him!"
+
+A second cock-a-doodle-doo, still louder than the first, was heard close
+to the door. "What a stupid, droll creature it is! Always the same joke,
+and yet it always amuses me," said Rose-Pompon.
+
+And drying her tears with the back of her hand, she began to laugh
+like one bewitched at Philemon's jest, which, though well known to her,
+always seemed new and agreeable.
+
+"Do not open the door," whispered Adrienne, much embarrassed; "do not
+answer, I beg of you."
+
+"Though the door is bolted, the key is on the outside; Philemon can see
+that there is some one at home."
+
+"No matter--do not let him in."
+
+"But, madame, he lives here; the room belongs to him."
+
+In fact, Philemon, probably growing tired of the little effect produced
+by his two ornithological imitations, turned the key in the lock, and
+finding himself unable to open the door, said in a deep bass voice:
+"What, dearest puss, have you shut yourself in? Are you praying Saint
+Flambard for the return of Philly?" (short for Philemon.)
+
+Adrienne, not coshing to increase, by prolonging it, the awkwardness of
+this ridiculous situation, went straight to the door and opened it,
+to the great surprise of Philemon, who recoiled two or three steps.
+Notwithstanding the annoyance of this incident, Mdlle. de Cardoville
+could not help smiling at sight of Rose-Pompon's lover, and of the
+articles he carried in his hand or under his arm.
+
+Philemon was a tall fellow, with dark hair and a very fresh color, and,
+being just arrived from a journey, he wore a white cap; his thick, black
+beard flowed down on his sky-blue waistcoat; and a short olive-colored
+velvet shooting-coat, with extravagantly large plaid trousers, completed
+his costume. As for the accessories which had provoked a smile from
+Adrienne, they consisted: first, of a portmanteau tucked under his arm,
+with the head and neck of a goose protruding from it; secondly, of a
+cage held in his hand, with an enormous white rabbit all alive within
+it.
+
+"Oh! the darling white rabbit! what pretty red eyes!" Such, it must be
+confessed, was the first exclamation of Rose-Pompon, though Philemon,
+to whom it was not addressed, had returned after a long absence; but the
+student far from being shocked at seeing himself thus sacrificed to his
+long-earned companion, smiled complacently, rejoicing at the success of
+his attempt to please his mistress.
+
+All this passed very rapidly. While Rose-Pompon, kneeling before the
+cage, was still occupied with her admiration of the rabbit, Philemon,
+struck with the lofty air of Mdlle. de Cardoville, raised his hand to
+his cap, and bowed respectfully as he made way for her to pass. Adrienne
+returned his salutation with politeness, full of grace and dignity, and,
+lightly descending the stairs, soon disappeared. Dazzled by her beauty,
+as well as impressed with her noble and lofty bearing, and curious
+to know how in the world Rose-Pompon had fallen in with such an
+acquaintance, Philemon said to her, in his amorous jargon: "Dearest
+puss! tell her Philly who is that fine lady?"
+
+"One of my school-fellows, you great satyr!" said Rose-Pompon, still
+playing with the rabbit.
+
+Then, glancing at a box, which Philemon deposited close to the cage and
+the portmanteau, she added: "I'll wager anything you have brought me
+some more preserves!"
+
+"Philly has brought something better to his dear puss," said the
+student, imprinting two vigorous kisses on the rosy cheeks of
+Rose-Pompon, who had at length, consented to stand up; "Philly has
+brought her his heart."
+
+"Fudge!" said the grisette, delicately placing the thumb of her left
+hand on the tip of her nose, and opening the fingers, which she slightly
+moved to and fro. Philemon answered this provocation by putting his arm
+around her waist; and then the happy pair shut their door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. SOOTHING WORDS.
+
+During the interview of Adrienne with Rose-Pompon a touching scene took
+place between Agricola and Mother Bunch, who had been much surprised
+at Mdlle. de Cardoville's condescension with regard to the grisette.
+Immediately after the departure of Adrienne, Agricola had knelt down
+beside Mother Bunch, and said to her, with profound emotion: "We are
+alone, and I can at length tell you what weighs upon my heart. This act
+is too cruel--to die of misery and despair, and not to send to me for
+assistance."
+
+"Listen to me, Agricola--"
+
+"No, there is no excuse for this. What! we called each other by the
+names of brother and sister, and for fifteen years gave every proof of
+sincere affection--and, when the day of misfortune comes, you quit life
+without caring for those you must leave behind--without considering that
+to kill yourself is to tell them they are indifferent to you!"
+
+"Forgive me, Agricola! it is true. I had never thought of that," said
+the workgirl, casting down her eyes; "but poverty--want of work--"
+
+"Misery! want of work! and was I not here?"
+
+"And despair!"
+
+"But why despair? This generous young lady had received you in her
+house; she knew your worth, and treated you as her friend--and just at
+the moment when you had every chance of happiness, you leave the house
+abruptly, and we remain in the most horrible anxiety on your account."
+
+"I feared--to be--to be a burden to my benefactress," stammered she.
+
+"You a burden to Mdlle. de Cardoville, that is so rich and good!"
+
+"I feared to be indiscreet," said the sewing-girl, more and more
+embarrassed.
+
+Instead of answering his adopted sister, Agricola remained silent, and
+contemplated her for some moments with an undefinable expression; then
+he exclaimed suddenly, as if replying to a question put by himself: "She
+will forgive me for disobeying her.--I am sure of it."
+
+He next turned towards Mother Bunch, who was looking at him in
+astonishment, and said to her in a voice of emotion: "I am too frank
+to keep up this deception. I am reproaching you--blaming you--and my
+thoughts are quite different."
+
+"How so, Agricola?"
+
+"My heart aches, when I think of the evil I have done you."
+
+"I do not understand you, my friend; you have never done me any evil."
+
+"What! never? even in little things? when, for instance, yielding to a
+detestable habit, I, who loved and respected you as my sister, insulted
+you a hundred times a day?"
+
+"Insulted me!"
+
+"Yes--when I gave you an odious and ridiculous nickname, instead of
+calling you properly."
+
+At these words, Mother Bunch looked at the smith in the utmost alarm,
+trembling lest he had discovered her painful secret, notwithstanding
+the assurance she had received from Mdlle. de Cardoville. Yet she calmed
+herself a little when she reflected, that Agricola might of himself have
+thought of the humiliation inflicted on her by calling her Mother Bunch,
+and she answered him with a forced smile. "Can you be grieved at so
+small a thing? It was a habit, Agricola, from childhood. When did your
+good and affectionate mother, who nevertheless loved me as her daughter,
+ever call me anything else?"
+
+"And did my mother consult you about my marriage, speak to you of the
+rare beauty of my bride, beg you to come and see her, and study her
+character, in the hope that the instinct of your affection for me would
+warn you--if I made a bad choice? Did my mother have this cruelty?--No;
+it was I, who thus pierced your heart!"
+
+The fears of the hearer were again aroused; there could be but little
+doubt that Agricola knew her secret. She felt herself sinking with
+confusion; yet, making a last effort not to believe the discovery, she
+murmured in a feeble voice: "True, Agricola! It was not your mother, but
+yourself, who made me that request--and I was grateful to you for such a
+mark of confidence."
+
+"Grateful, my poor girl!" cried the smith, whilst his eyes filled
+with tears; "no, it is not true. I pained you fearfully--I was
+merciless--heaven knows, without being aware of it!"
+
+"But," said the other, in a voice now almost unintelligible, "what makes
+you think so?"
+
+"Your love for me!" cried the smith, trembling with emotion, as he
+clasped Mother Bunch in a brotherly embrace.
+
+"Oh heaven!" murmured the unfortunate creature, as she covered her face
+with her hands, "he knows all."
+
+"Yes, I know all," resumed Agricola, with an expression of ineffable
+tenderness and respect: "yes, I know all, and I will not have you blush
+for a sentiment, which honors me, and of which I feel so justly proud.
+Yes, I know all; and I say to myself with joy and pride, that the best,
+the most noble heart in the world is mine--will be mine always. Come,
+Magdalen; let us leave shame to evil passions. Raise your eyes, and look
+at me! You know, if my countenance was ever false--if it ever reflected
+a feigned emotion. Then look and tell me, if you cannot read in my
+features, how proud I am, Magdalen, how justly proud of your love!"
+
+Overwhelmed with grief and confusion, Mother Bunch had not dared to look
+on Agricola; but his words expressed so deep a conviction, the tones of
+his voice revealed so tender an emotion, that the poor creature felt her
+shame gradually diminish, particularly when Agricola added, with rising
+animation: "Be satisfied, my sweet, my noble Magdalen; I will be worthy
+of this love. Believe me, it shall yet cause you as much happiness as it
+has occasioned tears. Why should this love be a motive for estrangement,
+confusion, fear? For what is love, in the sense in which it is held
+by your generous heart? Is it not a continual exchange of devotion,
+tenderness, esteem, of mutual and blind confidence?--Why, Magdalen!
+we may have all this for one another--devotion, tenderness,
+confidence--even more than in times past; for, on a thousand occasions,
+your secret inspired you with fear and suspicion--while, for the future,
+on the contrary, you will see me take such delight in the place I fill
+in your good and valiant heart, that you will be happy in the happiness
+you bestow. What I have just said may seem very selfish and conceited;
+so much the worse! I do not know how to lie."
+
+The longer the smith spoke, the less troubled became Mother Bunch. What
+she had above all feared in the discovery of her secret was to see it
+received with raillery, contempt, or humiliating compassion; far from
+this, joy and happiness were distinctly visible on the manly and
+honest face of Agricola. The hunchback knew him incapable of deception;
+therefore she exclaimed, this time without shame or confusion, but
+rather with a sort of pride.
+
+"Every sincere and pure passion is so far good and con soling as to end
+by deserving interest and sympathy, when it has triumphed over its first
+excess! It is alike honorable to the heart which feels and that which
+inspires it!--Thanks to you, Agricola--thanks to the kind words, which
+have raised me in my own esteem--I feel that, instead of blushing, I
+ought to be proud of this love. My benefactress is right--you are right:
+why should I be ashamed of it? Is it not a true and sacred love? To be
+near you, to love you, to tell you so, to prove it by constant devotion,
+what did I ever desire more? And yet shame and fear, joined with that
+dizziness of the brain which extreme misery produces, drove me to
+suicide!--But then some allowance must be made for the suspicions of a
+poor creature, who has been the subject of ridicule from her cradle.
+So my secret was to die with me, unless some unforeseen accident should
+reveal it to you; and, in that case, you are right--sure of myself, sure
+of you, I ought to have feared nothing. But I may claim some indulgence;
+mistrust, cruel mistrust of one's self makes one doubt others also. Let
+us forget all that. Agricola, my generous brother, I will say to you,
+as you said to me just now, 'Look at me; you know my countenance cannot
+lie. Look at me: see if I shun your gaze; see if, ever in my life, I
+looked so happy'--and yet, even now, I was about to die!"
+
+She spoke the truth. Agricola himself could not have hoped so prompt an
+effect from his words. In spite of the deep traces which misery, grief,
+and sickness had imprinted on the girl's features, they now shone with
+radiant happiness and serenity, whilst her blue eyes, gentle and pure as
+her soul, were fixed, without embarrassment, on those of Agricola.
+
+"Oh! thanks, thanks!" cried the smith, in a rapture of delight: "when I
+see you so calm, and so happy, Magdalen, I am indeed grateful."
+
+"Yes, I am calm, I am happy," replied she; "and happy I shall be, for
+I can now tell you my most secret thoughts. Yes, happy; for this day,
+which began so fatally, ends like a divine dream. Far from being afraid,
+I now look at you with hope and joy. I have again found my generous
+benefactress, and I am tranquil as to the fate of my poor sister.
+Oh! shall we not soon see her? I should like her to take part in this
+happiness."
+
+She seemed so happy, that the smith did not dare to inform her of the
+death of Cephyse, and reserved himself to communicate the same at a
+more fitting opportunity. Therefore he answered: "Cephyse, being the
+stronger, has been the more shaken; it will not be prudent, I am told,
+to see her to-day."
+
+"I will wait then. I can repress my impatience, I have so much to say to
+you."
+
+"Dear, gentle Magdalen!"
+
+"Oh, my friend!" cried the girl, interrupting Agricola, with tears of
+joy: "I cannot tell you what I feel, when I hear you call me Magdalen.
+It is so sweet, so soothing, that my heart expands with delight."
+
+"Poor girl! how dreadfully she must have suffered!" cried the smith,
+with inexpressible emotion, "when she displays so much happiness, so
+much gratitude, at being called by her own poor name!"
+
+"But consider, my friend; that word in your mouth contains a new life
+for me. If you only knew what hopes, what pleasures I can now see
+gleaming in the future! If you knew all the cherished longings of my
+tenderness! Your wife, the charming Angela, with her angel face and
+angel-soul--oh! in my turn, I can say to, you, 'Look at me, and see how
+sweet that name is to my lips and heart!' Yes, your charming, your
+good Angela will call me Magdalen--and your children, Agricola,
+your children!--dear little creatures!--to them also I shall be
+Magdalen--their good Magdalen--and the love I shall bear them will make
+them mine, as well as their mother's--and I shall have my part in
+every maternal care--and they will belong to us three; will they not,
+Agricola?--Oh! let me, let me weep! These tears without bitterness do me
+so much good; they are tears that need not be concealed. Thank heaven!
+thank you, my friend! those other tears are I trust dried forever."
+
+For some seconds, this affecting scene had been overlooked by an
+invisible witness. The smith and Mother Bunch had not perceived Mdlle.
+de Cardoville standing on the threshold of the door. As Mother Bunch
+had said, this day, which dawned with all under such fatal auspices, had
+become for all a day of ineffable felicity. Adrienne, too, was full of
+joy, for Djalma had been faithful to her, Djalma loved her with passion.
+The odious appearances, of which she had been the dupe and victim,
+evidently formed part of a new plot of Rodin, and it only remained for
+Mdlle. de Cardoville to discover the end of these machinations.
+
+Another joy was reserved for her. The happy are quick in detecting
+happiness in others, and Adrienne guessed, by the hunchback's last
+words, that there was no longer any secret between the smith and the
+sempstress. She could not therefore help exclaiming, as she entered:
+"Oh! this will be the brightest day of my life, for I shall not be happy
+alone!"
+
+Agricola and Mother Bunch turned round hastily. "Lady," said the smith,
+"in spite of the promise I made you, I could not conceal from Magdalen
+that I knew she loved me!"
+
+"Now that I no longer blush for this love before Agricola, why should I
+blush for it before you, lady, that told me to be proud of it, because
+it is noble and pure?" said Mother Bunch, to whom her happiness gave
+strength enough to rise, and to lean upon Agricola's arm.
+
+"It is well, my friend," said Adrienne, as she threw her arms round her
+to support her; "only one word, to excuse the indiscretion with which
+you will perhaps reproach me. If I told your secret to M. Agricola--"
+
+"Do you know why it was, Magdalen?" cried the smith, interrupting
+Adrienne. "It was only another proof of the lady's delicate generosity.
+'I long hesitate to confide to you this secret,' said she to me this
+morning, 'but I have at length made up my mind to it. We shall probably
+find your adopted sister; you have been to her the best of brothers:
+but many times, without knowing it, you have wounded her feelings
+cruelly--and now that you know her secret, I trust in your kind heart to
+keep it faithfully, and so spare the poor child a thousand pangs--pangs
+the more bitter, because they come from you, and are suffered in
+silence. Hence, when you speak to her of your wife, your domestic
+happiness, take care not to gall that noble and tender heart.'--Yes,
+Magdalen, these were the reasons that led the lady to commit what she
+called an indiscretion."
+
+"I want words to thank you now and ever," said Mother Bunch.
+
+"See, my friend," replied Adrienne, "how often the designs of the wicked
+turn against themselves. They feared your devotion to me, and therefore
+employed that unhappy Florine to steal your journal--"
+
+"So as to drive me from your house with shame, lady, When I supposed my
+most secret thoughts an object of ridicule to all. There can be no doubt
+such was their plan," said Mother Bunch.
+
+"None, my child. Well! this horrible wickedness, which nearly caused
+your death, now turns to the confusion of the criminals. Their plot is
+discovered--and, luckily, many other of their designs," said Adrienne,
+as she thought of Rose-Pompon.
+
+Then she resumed, with heartfelt joy: "At last, we are again united,
+happier than ever, and in our very happiness we shall find new resources
+to combat our enemies. I say our enemies--for all that love me are
+odious to these wretches. But courage, the hour is come, and the good
+people will have their turn."
+
+"Thank heaven, lady," said the smith; "or my part, I shall not be
+wanting in zeal. What delight to strip them of their mask!"
+
+"Let me remind you, M. Baudoin, that you have an appointment for to
+morrow with M. Hardy."
+
+"I have not forgotten it, lady, any more than the generous offers I am
+to convey to him."
+
+"That is nothing. He belongs to my family. Tell him (what indeed I
+shall write to him this evening), that the funds necessary to reopen his
+factory are at his disposal; I do not say so for his sake only, but for
+that of a hundred families reduced to want. Beg him to quit immediately
+the fatal abode to which they have taken him: for a thousand reasons he
+should be on his guard against all that surround him."
+
+"Be satisfied, lady. The letter he wrote to me in reply to the one I got
+secretly delivered to him, was short, affectionate, sad--but he grants
+me the interview I had asked for, and I am sure I shall be able to
+persuade him to leave that melancholy dwelling, and perhaps to depart
+with me, he has always had so much confidence in my attachment."
+
+"Well, M. Baudoin, courage!" said Adrienne, as she threw her cloak over
+the workgirl's shoulders, and wrapped her round with care. "Let us be
+gone, for it is late. As soon as we get home, I will give you a letter
+for M. Hardy, and to-morrow you will come and tell me the result of your
+visit. No, not to-morrow," she added, blushing slightly. "Write to me
+to-morrow, and the day after, about twelve, come to me."
+
+Some minutes later, the young sempstress, supported by Agricola and
+Adrienne, had descended the stairs of that gloomy house, and, being
+placed in the carriage by the side of Mdlle. de Cardoville, she
+earnestly entreated to be allowed to see Cephyse; it was in vain that
+Agricola assured her it was impossible, and that she should see her the
+next day. Thanks to the information derived from Rose-Pompon, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville was reasonably suspicious of all those who surrounded Djalma,
+and she therefore took measures, that, very evening, to have a letter
+delivered to the prince by what she considered a sure hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE TWO CARRIAGES.
+
+It is the evening of the day on which Mdlle. de Cardoville prevented the
+sewing-girl's suicide. It strikes eleven; the night is dark; the
+wind blows with violence, and drives along great black clouds, which
+completely hide the pale lustre of the moon. A hackney-coach, drawn by
+two broken-winded horses, ascends slowly and with difficulty the slope
+of the Rue Blanche, which is pretty steep near the barrier, in the part
+where is situated the house occupied by Djalma.
+
+The coach stops. The coachman, cursing the length of an interminable
+drive "within the circuit," leading at last to this difficult ascent,
+turns round on his box, leans over towards the front window of the
+vehicle, and says in a gruff tone to the person he is driving: "Come!
+are we almost there? From the Rue de Vaugirard to the Barriere Blanche,
+is a pretty good stretch, I think, without reckoning that the night
+is so dark, that one can hardly see two steps before one--and the
+street-lamps not lighted because of the moon, which doesn't shine, after
+all!"
+
+"Look out for a little door with a portico-drive on about twenty yards
+beyond--and then stop close to the wall," answered a squeaking voice,
+impatiently, and with an Italian accent.
+
+"Here is a beggarly Dutchman, that will make me as savage as a bear?"
+muttered the angry Jehu to himself. Then he added: "Thousand thunders!
+I tell you that I can't see. How the devil can I find out your little
+door?"
+
+"Have you no sense? Follow the wall to the right, brush against it, and
+you will easily find the little door. It is next to No. 50. If you do
+not find it, you must be drunk," answered the Italian, with increased
+bitterness.
+
+The coachman only replied by swearing like a trooper, and whipping up
+his jaded horses. Then, keeping close to the wall, he strained his eyes
+in trying to read the numbers of the houses, by the aid of his carriage
+lamps.
+
+After some moments, the coach again stopped. "I have passed No. 50, and
+here is a little door with a portico," said the coachman. "Is that the
+one?"
+
+"Yes," said the voice. "Now go forward some twenty yards, and then
+stop."
+
+"Well! I never--"
+
+"Then get down from your box, and give twice three knocks at the little
+door we have just passed--you understand me?--twice three knocks."
+
+"Is that all you give me to drink?" cried the exasperated coachman.
+
+"When you have taken me back to the Faubourg Saint-Germain, where I
+live, you shall have something handsome, if you do but manage matters
+well."
+
+"Ha! now the Faubourg Saint-Germain! Only that little bit of distance!"
+said the driver, with repressed rage. "And I who have winded my horses,
+wanted to be on the boulevard by the time the play was out. Well,
+I'm blowed!" Then, putting a good face on his bad luck, and consoling
+himself with the thought of the promised drink-money, he resumed: "I am
+to give twice three knocks at the little door?"
+
+"Yes; three knocks first--then pause--then three other knocks. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"What next?"
+
+"Tell the person who comes, that he is waited for, and bring him here to
+the coach."
+
+"The devil burn you!" said the coachman to himself, as he turned round
+on the box, and whipped up his horses, adding: "this crusty old Dutchman
+has something to do with Free-masons, or, perhaps, smugglers, seeing we
+are so near the gates. He deserves my giving him in charge, for bringing
+me all the way from the Rue de Vaugirard."
+
+At twenty steps beyond the little door, the coach again stopped, and the
+coachman descended from the box to execute the orders he had received.
+Going to the little door, he knocked three times; then paused, as he had
+been desired, and then knocked three times more. The clouds, which had
+hitherto been so thick as entirely to conceal the disk of the moon, just
+then withdrew sufficiently to afford a glimmering light, so that when
+the door opened at the signal, the coachman saw a middle-sized person
+issue from it, wrapped in a cloak, and wearing a colored cap.
+
+This man carefully locked the door, and then advanced two steps into the
+street. "They are waiting for you," said the coachman; "I am to take you
+along with me to the coach."
+
+Preceding the man with the cloak, who only answered him by a nod, he led
+him to the coach-door, which he was about to open, and to let down the
+step, when the voice exclaimed from the inside: "It is not necessary.
+The gentleman may talk to me through the window. I will call you when it
+is time to start."
+
+"Which means that I shall be kept here long enough to send you to all
+the devils!" murmured the driver. "However, I may as well walk about,
+just to stretch my legs."
+
+So saying, he began to walk up and down, by the side of the wall in
+which was the little door. Presently he heard the distant sound of
+wheels, which soon came nearer and nearer, and a carriage, rapidly
+ascending the slope, stopped on the other side of the little
+garden-door.
+
+"Come, I say! a private carriage!" said the coachman. "Good horses
+those, to come up the Rue Blanche at a trot."
+
+The coachman was just making this observation, when, by favor of a
+momentary gleam of light, he saw a man step from the carriage, advance
+rapidly to the little door, open it, and go in, closing it after him.
+
+"It gets thicker and thicker!" said the coachman. "One comes out, and
+the other goes in."
+
+So saying, he walked up to the carriage. It was splendidly harnessed,
+and drawn by two handsome and vigorous horses. The driver sat
+motionless, in his great box-coat, with the handle of his whip resting
+on his right knee.
+
+"Here's weather to drive about in, with such tidy dukes as yours,
+comrade!" said the humble hackney-coachman to this automaton, who
+remained mute and impassible, without even appearing to know that he was
+spoken to.
+
+"He doesn't understand French--he's an Englishman. One could tell that
+by his horses," said the coachman, putting this interpretation on the
+silence of his brother whip. Then, perceiving a tall footman at a little
+distance, dressed in a long gray livery coat, with blue collar and
+silver buttons, the coachman addressed himself to him, by way of
+compensation, but without much varying his phrase: "Here's nice weather
+to stand about in, comrade!" On the part of the footman, he was met with
+the same imperturbable silence.
+
+"They're both Englishmen," resumed the coachman, philosophically;
+and, though somewhat astonished at the incident of the little door, he
+recommenced his walk in the direction of his own vehicle.
+
+While these facts were passing, the man in the cloak, and the man with
+the Italian accent continued their conversation, the one still in the
+coach, and the other leaning with his hand on the door. It had already
+lasted for some time, and was carried on in Italian. They were evidently
+talking of some absent person, as will appear from the following.
+
+"So," said the voice from the coach, "that is agreed to?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the man in the cloak; "but only in case the
+eagle should become a serpent."
+
+"And, in the contrary event, you will receive the other half of the
+ivory crucifix I gave you."
+
+"I shall know what it means, my lord."
+
+"Continue to merit and preserve his confidence."
+
+"I will merit and preserve it, my lord, because I admire and respect
+this man, who is stronger than the strongest, by craft, and courage, and
+will. I have knelt before him with humility, as I would kneel before one
+of the three black idols that stand between Bowanee and her worshippers;
+for his religion, like mine, teaches to change life into nothingness."
+
+"Humph!" said the voice, in a tone of some embarrassment; "these
+comparisons are useless and inaccurate. Only think of obeying him,
+without explaining your obedience."
+
+"Let him speak, and I perform his will! I am in his hands like a corpse,
+as he himself expresses it. He has seen, he sees every day, my devotion
+to his interests with regard to Prince Djalma. He has only to say: 'Kill
+him!'and this son of a king--"
+
+"For heaven's salve, do not have such ideas!" cried the voice,
+interrupting the man in the cloak. "Thank heaven, you will never be
+asked for such proofs of your submission."
+
+"What I am ordered I do. Bowanee sees me."
+
+"I do not doubt your zeal. I know that you are a loving and intelligent
+barrier, placed between the prince and many guilty interests; and it is
+because I have heard of that zeal, of your skill in circumventing this
+young Indian, and, above all, of the motives of your blind devotion,
+that I have wished to inform you of everything. You are the fanatical
+worshipper of him you serve. That is well; man should be the obedient
+slave of the god he chooses for himself."
+
+"Yes, my lord; so long as the god remains a god."
+
+"We understand each other perfectly. As for your recompense, you know
+what I have promised."
+
+"My lord, I have my reward already."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"I know what I know."
+
+"Very well. Then as for secrecy--"
+
+"You have securities, my lord."
+
+"Yes--and sufficient ones."
+
+"The interest of the cause I serve, my lord, would alone be enough to
+secure my zeal and discretion."
+
+"True; you are a man of firm and ardent convictions."
+
+"I strive to be so, my lord."
+
+"And, after all, a very religious man in your way. It is very
+praiseworthy, in these irreligious times, to have any views at all on
+such matters--particularly when those views will just enable me to count
+upon your aid."
+
+"You may count upon it, my lord, for the same reason that the intrepid
+hunter prefers a jackal to ten foxes, a tiger to ten jackals, a lion to
+ten tigers, and the welmiss to ten lions."
+
+"What is the welmiss?"
+
+"It is what spirit is to matter, the blade to the scabbard, the perfume
+to the flower, the head to the body."
+
+"I understand. There never was a more just comparison. You are a man of
+sound judgment. Always recollect what you have just told me, and make
+yourself more and more worthy of the confidence of--your idol."
+
+"Will he soon be in a state to hear me, my lord?"
+
+"In two or three days, at most. Yesterday a providential crisis saved
+his life; and he is endowed with so energetic a will, that his cure will
+be very rapid."
+
+"Shall you see him again to-morrow, my lord?"
+
+"Yes, before my departure, to bid him farewell."
+
+"Then tell him a strange circumstance, of which I have not been able to
+inform him, but which happened yesterday."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"I had gone to the garden of the dead. I saw funerals everywhere, and
+lighted torches, in the midst of the black night, shining upon tombs.
+Bowanee smiled in her ebon sky. As I thought of that divinity of
+destruction, I beheld with joy the dead-cart emptied of its coffins.
+The immense pit yawned like the mouth of hell; corpses were heaped
+upon corpses, and still it yawned the same. Suddenly, by the light of a
+torch, I saw an old man beside me. He wept. I had seen him before. He is
+a Jew--the keeper of the house in the Rue Saint-Francois--you know what
+I mean." Here the man in the cloak started.
+
+"Yes, I know; but what is the matter? why do you stop short?"
+
+"Because in that house there has been for a hundred and fifty years the
+portrait of a man whom I once met in the centre of India, on the banks
+of the Ganges." And the man in the cloak again paused and shuddered.
+
+"A singular resemblance, no doubt."
+
+"Yes, my lord, a singular resemblance--nothing more."
+
+"But the Jew--the old Jew?"
+
+"I am coming to that, my lord. Still weeping, he said to a gravedigger,
+'Well! and the coffin?' 'You were right,' answered the man; 'I found it
+in the second row of the other grave. It had the figure of a cross on
+it, formed by seven black nails. But how could you know the place and
+the mark?' 'Alas! it is no matter,' replied the old Jew, with bitter
+melancholy. 'You see that I was but too well informed on the subject.
+But where is the coffin?' 'Behind the great tomb of black marble; I have
+hidden it there. So make haste; for, in the confusion, nothing will be
+noticed. You have paid me well, and I wish you to succeed in what you
+require.'"
+
+"And what did the old Jew do with the coffin marked with the seven black
+nails?"
+
+"Two men accompanied him, my lord, bearing a covered litter, with
+curtains drawn round it. He lighted a lantern, and, followed by these
+two men, went towards the place pointed out by the gravedigger. A
+stoppage, occasioned by the dead-carts, made me lose sight of the old
+Jew, whom I was following amongst the tombs. Afterwards I was unable to
+find him."
+
+"It is indeed a strange affair. What could this old Jew want with the
+coffin?"
+
+"It is said, my lord, that they use dead bodies in preparing their magic
+charms."
+
+"Those unbelievers are capable of anything--even of holding
+communication with the Enemy of mankind. However, we will look after
+this: the discovery may be of importance."
+
+At this instant a clock struck twelve in the distance.
+
+"Midnight! already?"
+
+"Yes, my lord."
+
+"I must be gone. Good-bye--but for the last time swear to me that,
+should matters so turn out, as soon as you receive the other half of the
+ivory crucifix I have just given you, you will keep your promise."
+
+"I have sworn it by Bowanee, my lord."
+
+"Don't forget that, to make all sure, the person who will deliver to you
+the other half of the crucifix is to say--come, what is he to say?"
+
+"He is to say, my lord: 'There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the
+lip.'"
+
+"Very well. Adieu! secrecy and fidelity!"
+
+"Secrecy and fidelity, my lord," answered the man in the cloak.
+
+Some seconds after the hackney-coach started, carrying with it Cardinal
+Malipieri, one of the speakers in the above dialogue. The other, whom
+the reader has no doubt recognized as Faringhea, returned to the little
+garden-door of the house occupied by Djalma. At the moment he
+was putting the key into the lock, the door opened, to his great
+astonishment, and a man came forth. Faringhea rushed upon the unknown,
+seized him violently by the collar, and exclaimed: "Who are you? whence
+came you?"
+
+The stranger evidently found the tone of this question anything but
+satisfactory; for, instead of answering, he struggled to disengage
+himself from Faringhea's hold, and cried out, in a loud voice: "Help!
+Peter!"
+
+Instantly the carriage, which had been standing a few yards off, dashed
+up at full speed, and Peter, the tall footman, seizing the half-breed by
+the shoulders, flung him back several paces, and thus made a seasonable
+diversion in favor of the unknown.
+
+"Now, sir," said the latter to Faringhea, shaking himself, and still
+protected by the gigantic footman, "I am in a state to answer your
+questions, though you certainly have a very rough way of receiving an
+old acquaintance. I am Dupont, ex-bailiff of the estate of Cardoville,
+and it was I who helped to fish you out of the water, when the ship was
+wrecked in which you had embarked."
+
+By the light of the carriage-lamps, indeed, the half-caste
+recognized the good, honest face of Dupont, formerly bailiff, and now
+house-steward, to Mdlle. de Cardoville. It must not be forgotten that
+Dupont had been the first to write to Mdlle. de Cardoville, to ask her
+to interest herself for Djalma, who was then detained at Cardoville
+Castle by the injuries he had received during the shipwreck.
+
+"But, sir, what is your business here? Why do you introduce yourself
+clandestinely into this house?" said Faringhea, in an abrupt and
+suspicious tone.
+
+"I will--just observe to you that there is nothing clandestine in the
+matter. I came here in a carriage, with servants in the livery of my
+excellent mistress, Mdlle. de Cardoville, charged by her, without any
+disguise or mystery, to deliver a letter to Prince Djalma, her cousin,"
+replied Dupont, with dignity.
+
+On these words, Faringhea trembled with mute rage, as he answered: "And
+why, sir, come at this late hour, and introduce yourself by this little
+door?"
+
+"I came at this hour, my dear sir, because such was Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's command, and I entered by this little gate because there is
+every reason to believe that if I had gone around to the other I should
+not have been permitted to see the prince."
+
+"You are mistaken, sir," replied the half-caste.
+
+"It is possible: but as we knew that the prince usually passed a good
+portion of the night in the little saloon, which communicates with the
+greenhouse, and as Mdlle. de Cardoville had kept a duplicate key of this
+door, I was pretty certain, by taking this course, to be able to deliver
+into the prince's own hands the letter from Mdlle. de Cardoville, his
+cousin, which I have now had the honor of doing, my dear sir; and I have
+been deeply touched by the kindness with which the prince deigned to
+receive me and to remember our last interview."
+
+"And who kept you so well informed, sir, of the prince's habits?" said
+Faringhea, unable to control his vexation.
+
+"If I have been well informed as to his habits, my dear sir, I have had
+no such correct knowledge of yours," answered Dupont, with a mocking
+air; "for I assure you that I had no more notion of seeing you than you
+had of seeing me."
+
+So saying, M. Dupont bowed with something like mock politeness to the
+half-caste, and got into the carriage, which drove off rapidly, leaving
+Faringhea in a state of the utmost surprise and anger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. THE APPOINTMENT.
+
+The morning after--Dupont's mission to Prince Djalma, the latter was
+walking with hasty and impatient step up and down the little saloon,
+which communicated, as we already know, with the greenhouse from which
+Adrienne had entered when she first appeared to him. In remembrance of
+that day, he had chosen to dress himself as on the occasion in question;
+he wore the same tunic of white cashmere, with a cherry-colored turban,
+to match with his girdle; his gaiters, of scarlet velvet, embroidered
+with silver, displayed the fine form of his leg, and terminated in small
+white morocco slippers, with red heels. Happiness has so instantaneous,
+and, as it were, material an influence upon young, lively, and ardent
+natures, that Djalma, dejected and despairing only the day before,
+was no longer like the same person. The pale, transparent gold of his
+complexion was no longer tarnished by a livid hue. His large eyes, of
+late obscured like black diamonds by a humid vapor, now shone with mild
+radiance in the centre of their pearly setting; his lips, long pale,
+had recovered their natural color, which was rich and soft as the fine
+purple flowers of his country.
+
+Ever and anon, pausing in his hasty walk, he stopped suddenly, and
+drew from his bosom a little piece of paper, carefully folded, which he
+pressed to his lips with enthusiastic ardor. Then, unable to restrain
+the expression of his full happiness, he uttered a full and sonorous
+cry of joy, and with a bound he was in front of the plate-glass which
+separated the saloon from the conservatory, in which he had first seen
+Mdlle. de Cardoville. By a singular power of remembrance, or marvellous
+hallucination of a mind possessed by a fixed idea, Djalma had often
+seen, or fancied he saw, the adored semblance of Adrienne appear to him
+through this sheet of crystal. The illusion had been so complete, that,
+with his eyes ardently fixed on the vision he invoked, he had been able,
+with the aid of a pencil dipped in carmine, to trace with astonishing
+exactness, the profile of the ideal countenance which the delirium
+of his imagination had presented to his view.(42) It was before
+these delicate lines of bright carmine that Djalma now stood in deep
+contemplation, after perusing and reperusing, and raising twenty times
+to his lips, the letter he had received the night before from the hands
+of Dupont. Djalma was not alone. Faringhea watched all the movements
+of the prince, with a subtle, attentive, and gloomy aspect. Standing
+respectfully in a corner of the saloon, the half-caste appeared to be
+occupied in unfolding and spreading out Djalma's sash, light, silky
+Indian web, the brown ground of which was almost entirely concealed by
+the exquisite gold and silver embroidery with which it was overlaid.
+
+The countenance of the half-caste wore a dark and gloomy expression.
+He could not deceive himself. The letter from Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+delivered by Dupont to Djalma, must have been the cause of the delight
+he now experienced, for, without doubt, he knew himself beloved. In that
+event, his obstinate silence towards Faringhea, ever since the latter
+had entered the saloon, greatly alarmed the half-caste, who could not
+tell what interpretation to put upon it. The night before, after parting
+with Dupont, he had hastened, in a state of anxiety easily understood,
+to look for the prince, in the hope of ascertaining the effect produced
+by Mdlle. de Cardoville's letter. But he found the parlor door closed,
+and when he knocked, he received no answer from within. Then, though the
+night was far advanced, he had dispatched a note to Rodin, in which he
+informed him of Dupont's visit and its probable intention. Djalma had
+indeed passed the night in a tumult of happiness and hope, and a fever
+of impatience quite impossible to describe. Repairing to his bed-chamber
+only towards the morning, he had taken a few moments of repose, and had
+then dressed himself without assistance.
+
+Many times, but in vain, the half-caste had discreetly knocked at
+the door of Djalma's apartment. It was only in the early part of the
+afternoon that the prince had rung the bell to order his carriage to be
+ready by half-past two. Faringhea having presented himself, the prince
+had given him the order without looking at him, as he might have done to
+any other of his servants. Was this suspicion, aversion, or mere absence
+of mind on the part of Djalma? Such were the questions which the half
+caste put to himself with growing anguish; for the designs of which he
+was the most active and immediate instrument might all be ruined by the
+least suspicion in the prince.
+
+"Oh! the hours--the hours--how slow they are!" cried the young Indian,
+suddenly, in a low and trembling voice.
+
+"The day before yesterday, my lord, you said the hours were very long,"
+observed Faringhea, as he drew near Djalma in order to attract his
+attention. Seeing that he did not succeed in this he advanced a few
+steps nearer, and resumed: "Your joy seems very great, my lord; tell the
+cause of it to your poor and faithful servant, that he also may rejoice
+with you."
+
+If he heard the words, Djalma did not pay any attention to them. He made
+no answer, and his large black eyes gazed upon vacancy. He seemed to
+smile admiringly upon some enchanting vision, and he folded his two
+hands upon his bosom, in the attitude which his countrymen assume at
+the hour of prayer. After some instants of contemplation, he said: "What
+o'clock is it?"--but he asked this question of himself, rather than of
+any third person.
+
+"It will soon be two o'clock, my lord," said Faringhea.
+
+Having heard this answer, Djalma seated himself, and hid his face in his
+hands, as if completely absorbed in some ineffable meditation. Urged on
+by his growing anxiety, and wishing at any cost to attract the attention
+of Djalma, Faringhea approached still nearer to him, and, almost certain
+of the effect of the words he was about to utter, said to him in a slow
+and emphatic voice: "My lord, I am sure that you owe the happiness which
+now transports you to Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+Hardly had this name been pronounced, than Djalma started from his
+chair, looked the half-breed full in the face, and exclaimed, as if only
+just aware of his presence, "Faringhea! you here!--what is the matter?"
+
+"Your faithful servant shares in your joy, my lord."
+
+"What joy?"
+
+"That which the letter of Mdlle. de Cardoville has occasioned, my lord."
+
+Djalma returned no answer, but his eye shone with so much serene
+happiness, that the half-caste recovered from his apprehensions. No
+cloud of doubt or suspicion obscured the radiant features of the prince.
+After a few moments of silence, Djalma fixed upon the half-caste a look
+half-veiled with a tear of joy, and said to him, with the expression of
+one whose heart overflows with love and happiness: "Oh! such delight is
+good--great--like heaven!--for it is heaven which--"
+
+"You deserve this happiness, my lord, after so many sufferings."
+
+"What sufferings?--Oh! yes. I formerly suffered at Java; but that was
+years ago."
+
+"My lord, this great good fortune does not astonish me. What have I
+always told you? Do not despair; feign a violent passion for some other
+woman, and then this proud young lady--"
+
+At these words Djalma looked at the half-caste with so piercing a
+glance, that the latter stopped short; but the prince said to him with
+affectionate goodness, "Go on! I listen."
+
+Then, leaning his chin upon his hand, and his elbow on his knee, he
+gazed so intently on Faringhea, and yet with such unutterable mildness,
+that even that iron soul was touched for a moment with a slight feeling
+of remorse.
+
+"I was saying, my lord," he resumed, "that by following the counsels of
+your faithful slave, who persuaded you to feign a passionate love for
+another woman, you have brought the proud Mdlle. de Cardoville to come
+to you. Did I not tell you it would be so?"
+
+"Yes, you did tell me so," answered Djalma, still maintaining the same
+position, and examining the half-caste with the same fixed and mild
+attention.
+
+The surprise of Faringhea increased; generally, the prince, without
+treating him with the least harshness, preserved the somewhat distant
+and imperious manners of their common country, and he had never before
+spoken to him with such extreme mildness. Knowing all the evil he
+had done the prince, and suspicious as the wicked must ever be, the
+half-caste thought for a moment, that his master's apparent kindness
+might conceal a snare. He continued, therefore, with less assurance,
+"Believe me, my lord, this day, if you do but know how to profit by your
+advantages, will console you for all your troubles, which have indeed
+been great--for only yesterday, though you were generous enough to
+forget it, only yesterday you suffered cruelly--but you were not alone
+in your sufferings. This proud young lady suffered also!"
+
+"Do you think so?" said Djalma.
+
+"Oh! it is quite sure, my lord. What must she not have felt, when she
+saw you at the theatre with another woman!--If she loved you only a
+little, she must have been deeply wounded in her self-esteem; if she
+loved you with passion, she must have been struck to the heart. At
+length, you see, wearied out with suffering, she has come to you."
+
+"So that, any way, she must have suffered--and that does not move your
+pity?" said Djalma, in a constrained, but still very mild voice.
+
+"Before thinking of others, my lord, I think of your distresses; and
+they touch me too nearly to leave me any pity for other woes," added
+Faringhea hypocritically, so greatly had the influence of Rodin already
+modified the character of the Phansegar.
+
+"It is strange!" said Djalma, speaking to himself, as he viewed the half
+caste with a glance still kind but piercing.
+
+"What is strange, my lord?"
+
+"Nothing. But tell me, since your advice has hitherto prospered so well,
+what think you of the future?"
+
+"Of the future, my lord?"
+
+"Yes; in an hour I shall be with Mdlle. de Cardoville."
+
+"That is a serious matter, my lord. The whole future will depend upon
+this interview."
+
+"That is what I was just thinking."
+
+"Believe me, my lord, women never love any so well, as the bold man who
+spares them the embarrassment of a refusal."
+
+"Explain more fully."
+
+"Well, my lord, they despise the timid and languishing lover, who asks
+humbly for what he might take by force."
+
+"But to-day I shall meet Mdlle. de Cardoville for the first time."
+
+"You have met her a thousand times in your dreams, my lord; and depend
+upon it, she has seen you also in her dreams, since she loves you. Every
+one of your amorous thoughts has found an echo in her heart. All your
+ardent adorations have been responded to by her. Love has not two
+languages, and, without meeting, you have said all that you had to say
+to each other. Now, it is for you to act as her master, and she will be
+yours entirely."
+
+"It is strange--very strange!" said Djalma, a second time, without
+removing his eyes from Faringhea's face.
+
+Mistaking the sense which the prince attached to these words, the half
+caste resumed: "Believe me, my lord, however strange it may appear, this
+is the wisest course. Remember the past. Was it by playing the part of a
+timid lover that you have brought to your feet this proud young lady,
+my lord? No, it was by pretending to despise her, in favor of another
+woman. Therefore, let us have no weakness. The lion does not woo like
+the poor turtle-dove. What cares the sultan of the desert for a few
+plaintive howls from the lioness, who is more pleased than angry at his
+rude and wild caresses? Soon submissive, fearful and happy, she follows
+in the track of her master. Believe me, my lord--try everything--dare
+everything--and to-day you will become the adored sultan of this young
+lady, whose beauty all Paris admires."
+
+After some minutes' silence, Djalma, shaking his head with an expression
+of tender pity, said to the half-caste, in his mild, sonorous voice:
+"Why betray me thus? Why advise me thus wickedly to use violence,
+terror, and surprise, towards an angel of purity, whom I respect as
+my mother? Is it not enough for you to have been so long devoted to my
+enemies, whose hatred has followed me from Java?"
+
+Had Djalma sprung upon the half-caste with bloodshot eye, menacing
+brow, and lifted poniard, the latter would have been less surprised,
+and perhaps less frightened, than when he heard the prince speak of his
+treachery in this tone of mild reproach.
+
+He drew back hastily, as if about to stand on his guard. But Djalma
+resumed, with the same gentleness, "Fear nothing. Yesterday I should
+have killed you! But to-day happy love renders me too just, too merciful
+for that. I pity you, without any feeling of bitterness--for you must
+have been very unhappy, or you could not have become so wicked."
+
+"My lord!" said the half-caste, with growing amazement.
+
+"Yes, you must have suffered much, and met with little mercy, poor
+creature, to have become so merciless, in your hate, and proof against
+the sight of a happiness like mine. When I listened to you just now,
+and saw the sad perseverance of your hatred, I felt the deepest
+commiseration for you."
+
+"I do not know, my lord--but--" stammered the half-caste, and was unable
+to find words to proceed.
+
+"Come, now--what harm have I ever done you?"
+
+"None, my lord," answered Faringhea.
+
+"Then why do you hate me thus? why pursue me with so much animosity? Was
+it not enough to give me the perfidious counsel to feign a shameful love
+for the young girl that was brought hither, and who quitted the house
+disgusted at the miserable part she was to play?"
+
+"Your feigned love for that young girl, my lord," replied Faringhea,
+gradually recovering his presence of mind, "conquered the coldness of--"
+
+"Do not say that," resumed the prince, interrupting him with the same
+mildness. "If I enjoy this happiness, which makes me compassionate
+towards you, and raises me above myself, it is because Mdlle de
+Cardoville now knows that I have never for a moment ceased to love her
+as she ought to be loved, with adoration and reverence. It was your
+intention to have parted us forever, and you had nearly succeeded."
+
+"If you think this of me, my lord, you must look upon me as your most
+mortal enemy."
+
+"Fear nothing, I tell you. I have no right to blame you. In the madness
+of my grief, I listened to you and followed your advice. I was not only
+your dupe, but your accomplice. Only confess that, when you saw me at
+your mercy, dejected, crushed, despairing, it was cruel in you to advise
+the course that might have been most fatal to me."
+
+"The ardor of my zeal may have deceived me, my lord."
+
+"I am willing to believe it. And yet again to-day there were the same
+evil counsels. You had no more pity for my happiness than for my sorrow.
+The rapture of my heart inspires you with only one desire--that of
+changing this rapture into despair."
+
+"I, my lord!"
+
+"Yes, you. It was your intention to ruin me--to dishonor me forever in
+the eyes of Mdlle. de Cardoville. Now, tell me--why this furious hate?
+what have I done to you?"
+
+"You misjudge me, my lord--and--"
+
+"Listen to me. I do not wish you to be any longer wicked and
+treacherous. I wish to make you good. In our country, they charm
+serpents, and tame the wildest tigers. You are a man, with a mind to
+reason, a heart to love, and I will tame you too by gentleness. This day
+has bestowed on me divine happiness; you shall have good cause to bless
+this day. What can I do for you? what would you have--gold? You shall
+have it. Do you desire more than gold? Do you desire a friend, to
+console you for the sorrows that made you wicked, and to teach you to
+be good? Though a king's son, I will be that friend--in spite of the
+evil--ay, because of the evil you have done me. Yes; I will be your
+sincere friend, and it shall be my delight to say to myself: 'The day
+on which I learned that my angel loved me, my happiness was great
+indeed--for, in the morning, I had an implacable enemy, and, ere night,
+his hatred was changed to friendship.' Believe me, Faringhea, misery
+makes crime, but happiness produces virtue. Be happy!"
+
+At this moment the clock struck two. The prince started. It was time to
+go on his visit to Adrienne. The handsome countenance of Djalma, doubly
+embellished by the mild, ineffable expression with which it had been
+animated whilst he was talking to the half-caste, now seemed illumined
+with almost divine radiance.
+
+Approaching Faringhea, he extended his hand with the utmost, grace and
+courtesy, saying to him, "Your hand!"
+
+The half-caste, whose brow was bathed with a cold sweat, whose
+countenance was pale and agitated, seemed to hesitate for an instant;
+then, overawed, conquered, fascinated, he offered his trembling hand to
+the prince, who pressed it, and said to him, in their country's fashion,
+"You have laid your hand honestly in a friend's; this hand shall never
+be closed against you. Faringhea, farewell! I now feel myself more
+worthy to kneel before my angel."
+
+And Djalma went out, on his way to the appointment with Adrienne. In
+spite of his ferocity, in spite of the pitiless hate he bore to the
+whole human race, the dark sectary of Bowanee was staggered by the noble
+and clement words of Djalma, and said to himself, with terror, "I have
+taken his hand. He is now sacred for me."
+
+Then, after a moment's silence, a thought occurred to him, and he
+exclaimed, "Yes--but he will not be sacred for him who, according to the
+answer of last night, waits for him at the door of the house."
+
+So saying, the half-caste hastened into the next room, which looked upon
+the street, and, raising a corner of the curtain, muttered anxiously to
+himself, "The carriage moves off--the man approaches. Perdition! it is
+gone and I see no more."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. ANXIETY.
+
+By a singular coincidence of ideas, Adrienne, like Djalma, had wished
+to be dressed exactly in the same costume as at their interview in
+the house in the Rue Blanche. For the site of this solemn meeting, so
+important to her future happiness, Adrienne had chosen, with habitual
+tact, the grand drawing-room of Cardoville House, in which hung many
+family portraits. The most apparent were those of her father and mother.
+The room was large and lofty, and furnished, like those which preceded
+it, with all the imposing splendor of the age of Louis XIV. The ceiling,
+painted by Lebrun, to represent the Triumph of Apollo, displayed his
+bold designing and vigorous coloring, in the centre of a wide cornice,
+magnificently carved and gilt, and supported at its angles by four
+large gilt figures, representing the Seasons. Huge panels, covered
+with crimson damask, and set in frames, served as the background to the
+family portraits which adorned this apartment. It is easier to conceive
+than describe the thousand conflicting emotions which agitated the bosom
+of Mdlle. de Cardoville as the moment approached for her interview with
+Djalma. Their meeting had been hitherto prevented by so many painful
+obstacles, and Adrienne was so well aware of the vigilant and active
+perfidy of her enemies, that even now she doubted of her happiness.
+Every instant, in spite of herself, her eyes wandered to the clock.
+A few minutes more, and the hour of the appointment would strike.
+It struck at last. Every reverberation was echoed from the depth of
+Adrienne's heart. She considered that Djalma's modest reserve had,
+doubtless, prevented his coming before the moment fixed by herself. Far
+from blaming this discretion, she fully appreciated it. But, from that
+moment, at the least noise in the adjoining apartments, she held her
+breath and listened with the anxiety of expectation.
+
+For the first few minutes which followed the hour at which she expected
+Djalma, Mdlle. de Cardoville felt no serious apprehension, and calmed
+her impatience by the notion (which appears childish enough to those who
+have never known the feverish agitation of waiting for a happy meeting),
+that perhaps the clocks in the Rue Blanche might vary a little from
+those in the Rue d'Anjou. But when this supposed variation, conceivable
+enough in itself, could no longer explain a delay of a quarter of an
+hour, of twenty minutes, of more, Adrienne felt her anxiety gradually
+increase. Two or three times the young girl rose, with palpitating
+heart, and went on tip-toe to listen at the door of the saloon. She
+heard nothing. The clock struck half-past three.
+
+Unable to suppress her growing terror, and clinging to a last hope,
+Adrienne returned towards the fireplace and rang the bell. After which
+she endeavored to compose her features, so as to betray no outward sign
+of emotion. In a few seconds, a gray-haired footman, dressed in black,
+opened the door, and waited in respectful silence for the orders of his
+mistress. The latter said to him, in a calm voice, "Andrew, request Hebe
+to give you the smelling bottle that I left on the chimney-piece in my
+room, and bring it me here." Andrew bowed; but just as he was about
+to withdraw to execute Adrienne's orders, which was only a pretext to
+enable her to ask a question without appearing to attach much importance
+to it in her servant's eyes, already informed of the expected visit of
+the prince, Mdlle. de Cardoville added, with an air of indifference.
+"Pray, is that clock right?"
+
+Andrew drew out his watch, and replied as he cast his eyes upon it,
+"Yes, mademoiselle. I set my watch by the Tuileries. It is more than
+half past three."
+
+"Very well--thank you!" said Adrienne kindly.
+
+Andrew again bowed; but, before going out, he said to Adrienne, "I
+forgot to tell you, lady, that Marshal Simon called about an hour ago;
+but, as you were only to be at home to Prince Djalma, we told him that
+you received no company."
+
+"Very well," said Adrienne. With another low bow, Andrew quitted the
+room, and all returned to silence.
+
+For the precise reason that, up to the last minute of the hour previous
+to the time fixed for her interview with Djalma, the hopes of
+Adrienne had not been disturbed by the slightest shadow of doubt, the
+disappointment she now felt was the more dreadful. Casting a desponding
+look at one of the portraits placed above her, she murmured, with a
+plaintive and despairing accent, "Oh, mother!"
+
+Hardly had Mdlle. de Cardoville uttered the words than the windows were
+slightly shaken by a carriage rolling into the courtyard. The young lady
+started, and was unable to repress a low cry of joy. Her heart bounded
+at the thought of meeting Djalma, for this time she felt that he was
+really come. She was quite as certain of it as if she had seen him.
+She resumed her seat and brushed away a tear suspended from her long
+eyelashes. Her hand trembled like a leaf. The sound of several doors
+opening and shutting proved that the young lady was right in her
+conjecture. The gilded panels of the drawing-room door soon turned upon
+their hinges, and the prince appeared.
+
+While a second footman ushered in Djalma, Andrew placed on a gilded
+table, within reach of his mistress, a little silver salver, on which
+stood the crystal smelling-bottle. Then he withdrew, and the door of
+the room was closed. The prince and Mdlle. de Cardoville were left alone
+together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. ADRIENNE AND DJALMA.
+
+The prince had slowly approached Mdlle. de Cardoville. Notwithstanding
+the impetuosity of the Oriental's passions, his uncertain and timid
+step--timid, yet graceful--betrayed his profound emotion. He did not
+venture to lift his eyes to Adrienne's face; he had suddenly become very
+pale, and his finely formed hands, folded over his bosom in the attitude
+of adoration, trembled violently. With head bent down, he remained
+standing at a little distance from Adrienne. This embarrassment,
+ridiculous in any other person, appeared touching in this prince of
+twenty years of age, endowed with an almost fabulous intrepidity, and of
+so heroic and generous a character, that no traveller could speak of
+the son of Kadja sing without a tribute of admiration and respect. Sweet
+emotion! chaste reserve! doubly interesting if we consider that the
+burning passions of this youth were all the more inflammable, because
+they had hitherto been held in check.
+
+No less embarrassed than her cousin, Adrienne de Cardoville remained
+seated. Like Djalma, she cast down her eyes; but the burning blush on
+her cheeks, the quick heaving of her virgin bosom, revealed an emotion
+that she did not even attempt to hide. Notwithstanding the powers of her
+mind, by turns gay, graceful, and witty--notwithstanding the decision of
+her proud and independent character, and her complete acquaintance with
+the manners of the world--Adrienne shared Djalma's simple and enchanting
+awkwardness, and partook of that kind of temporary weakness, beneath
+which these two pure, ardent, and loving beings appeared sinking--as if
+unable to support the boiling agitation of the senses, combined with the
+intoxicating excitement of the heart. And yet their eyes had not met.
+Each seemed to fear the first electric shock of the other's glance--that
+invincible attraction of two impassioned beings--that sacred fire, which
+suddenly kindles the blood, and lifts two mortals from earth to heaven;
+for it is to approach the Divinity to give one's self up with religious
+fervor to the most noble and irresistible sentiment that He has
+implanted within us--the only sentiment that, in His adorable wisdom,
+the Dispenser of all good has vouchsafed to sanctify, by endowing it
+with a spark of His own creative energy.
+
+Djalma was the first to raise his eyes. They were moist and sparkling.
+The excitement of passionate love, the burning ardor of his age, so long
+repressed, the intense admiration in which he held ideal beauty, were
+all expressed in his look, mingled with respectful timidity, and gave
+to the countenance of this youth an undefinable, irresistible character.
+Yes, irresistible!--for, when Adrienne encountered his glance, she
+trembled in every limb, and felt herself attracted by a magnetic power.
+Already, her eyes were heavy with a kind of intoxicating languor, when,
+by a great effort of will and dignity, she succeeded in overcoming
+this delicious confusion, rose from her chair, and said to Djalma in
+a trembling voice: "Prince, I am happy to receive you here." Then,
+pointing to one of the portraits suspended above her, she added, as if
+introducing him to a living person: "Prince--my mother!"
+
+With an instinct of rare delicacy, Adrienne had thus summoned her mother
+to be present at her interview with Djalma. It seemed a security
+for herself and the prince, against the seductions of a first
+interview--which was likely to be all the more perilous, that they both
+knew themselves madly loved that they both were free, and had only to
+answer to Providence for the treasures of happiness and enjoyment
+with which He had so magnificently endowed them. The prince understood
+Adrienne's thoughts; so that, when the young lady pointed to the
+portrait, Djalma, by a spontaneous movement full of grace and
+simplicity, knelt down before the picture, and said to it in a gentle,
+but manly voice: "I will love and revere you as my mother. And, in
+thought, my mother too shall be present, and stand like you, beside your
+child!"
+
+No better answer could have been given to the feeling which induced
+Mdlle. de Cardoville to place herself, as it were, under the protection
+of her mother. From that moment, confident in Djalma, confident in
+herself, the young lady felt more at her ease, and the delicious sense
+of happiness replaced those exciting emotions, which had at first so
+violently agitated her.
+
+Then, seating herself once more, she said to Djalma, as she pointed to
+the opposite chair: "Pray take a seat, my dear cousin; and allow me to
+call you so, for there is too much ceremony in the word prince; and
+do you call me cousin also, for I find other names too grave. Having
+settled this point, we can talk together like old friends."
+
+"Yes cousin," answered Djalma, blushing.
+
+"And, as frankness is proper between friends," resumed Adrienne, "I have
+first to make you a reproach," she added, with a half-smile.
+
+The prince had remained standing, with his arm resting on the chimney
+piece, in an attitude full of grace and respect.
+
+"Yes, cousin," continued Adrienne, "a reproach, that you will perhaps
+forgive me for making. I had expected you a little sooner."
+
+"Perhaps, cousin, you may blame me for having come so soon."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"At the moment when I left home, a man, whom I did not know, approached
+my carriage, and said to me, with such an air of sincerity that I
+believed him: 'You are able to save the life of a person who has been a
+second father to you. Marshal Simon is in great danger, and, to rescue
+him, you must follow me on the instant--'"
+
+"It was a snare," cried Adrienne, hastily. "Marshal Simon was here,
+scarcely an hour ago."
+
+"Indeed!" exclaimed Djalma, joyfully, and as if he had been relieved
+from a great weight. "Then there will be nothing to sadden this happy
+day!"
+
+"But, cousin," resumed Adrienne, "how came you not to suspect this
+emissary?"
+
+"Some words, which afterwards escaped from him, inspired me with
+doubts," answered Djalma: "but at first I followed him, fearing the
+marshal might be in danger--for I know that he also has enemies."
+
+"Now that I reflect on it, you were quite right, cousin, for some new
+plot against the marshal was probable enough; and the least doubt was
+enough to induce you to go to him."
+
+"I did so--even though you were waiting for me."
+
+"It was a generous sacrifice; and my esteem for you is increased by it,
+if it could be increased," said Adrienne, with emotion. "But what became
+of this man?"
+
+"At my desire, he got into the carriage with me. Anxious about the
+marshal, and in despair at seeing the time wasted, that I was to have
+passed with you, cousin, I pressed him with all sorts of questions.
+Several times, he replied to me with embarrassment, and then the idea
+struck me that the whole might be a snare. Remembering all that they had
+already attempted, to ruin me in your opinion, I immediately changed
+my course. The vexation of the man who accompanied me then because so
+visible, that I ought to have had no doubt upon the subject. Still, when
+I thought of Marshal Simon, I felt a kind of vague remorse, which you,
+cousin, have now happily set at rest."
+
+"Those people are implacable!" said Adrienne; "but our happiness will be
+stronger than their hate."
+
+After a moment's silence, she resumed, with her habitual frankness: "My
+dear cousin, it is impossible for me to conceal what I have at heart.
+Let us talk for a few seconds of the past, which was made so painful to
+us, and then we will forget it forever, like an evil dream."
+
+"I will answer you sincerely, at the risk of injuring myself," said the
+prince.
+
+"How could you make up your mind to exhibit yourself in public with--?"
+
+"With that young girl?" interrupted Djalma.
+
+"Yes, cousin," replied Mdlle. de Cardoville, and she waited for Djalma's
+answer with anxious curiosity.
+
+"A stranger to the customs of this country," said Djalma, without
+any embarrassment, for he spoke the truth, "with a mind weakened
+with despair, and misled by the fatal counsels of a man devoted to my
+enemies, I believed, even as I was told, that, by displaying before
+you the semblance of another love, I should excite your jealousy, and
+thus--"
+
+"Enough, cousin; I understand it all," said Adrienne hastily,
+interrupting Djalma in her turn, that she might spare him a painful
+confession. "I too must have been blinded by despair, not to have
+seen through this wicked plot, especially after your rash and intrepid
+action. To risk death for the sake of my bouquet!" added Adrienne,
+shuddering at the mere remembrance. "But one last question," she
+resumed, "though I am already sure of your answer. Did you receive a
+letter that I wrote to you, on the morning of the day in which I saw you
+at the theatre?"
+
+Djalma made no reply. A dark cloud passed over his fine countenance,
+and, for a second, his features assumed so menacing an expression, that
+Adrienne was terrified at the effect produced by her words. But this
+violent agitation soon passed away, and Djalma's brow became once more
+calm and serene.
+
+"I have been more merciful that I thought," said the prince to Adrienne,
+who looked at him with astonishment. "I wished to come hither worthy of
+you, my cousin. I pardoned the man who, to serve my enemies, had given
+me all those fatal counsels. The same person, I am sure, must have
+intercepted your letter. Just now, at the memory of the evils he thus
+caused me, I, for a moment, regretted my clemency. But then, again, I
+thought of your letter of yesterday--and my anger is all gone."
+
+"Then the sad time of fear and suspicion is over--suspicion, that made
+me doubt of your sentiments, and you of mine. Oh, yes! far removed from
+us be that fatal past!" cried Adrienne de Cardoville, with deep joy..
+
+Then, as if she had relieved her heart from the last thought of sadness,
+she continued: "The future is all your own--the radiant future, without
+cloud or obstacle, pure in the immensity of its horizon, and extending
+beyond the reach of sight!"
+
+It is impossible to describe the tone of enthusiastic hope which
+accompanied these words. But suddenly Adrienne's features assumed an
+expression of touching melancholy, and she added, in a voice of profound
+emotion: "And yet--at this hour--so many unfortunate creatures suffer
+pain!"
+
+This simple touch of pity for the misfortunes of others, at the
+moment when the noble maiden herself attained to the highest point of
+happiness, had such an effect on Djalma, that involuntarily he fell
+on his knees before Adrienne, clasped his hands together, and turned
+towards her his fine countenance, with an almost daring expression.
+Then, hiding his face in his hands, he bowed his head without speaking a
+single word. There was a moment of deep silence. Adrienne was the first
+to break it, as she saw a tear steal through the slender fingers of the
+prince.
+
+"My friend! what is the matter?" she exclaimed, as with a movement rapid
+as thought, she stooped forward, and taking hold of Djalma's hands, drew
+them from before his face. That face was bathed in tears.
+
+"You weep!" cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, so much agitated that she kept
+the hands of Djalma in her own; and, unable to dry his tears, the young
+Hindoo allowed them to flow like so many drops of crystal over the pale
+gold of his cheeks.
+
+"There is not in this wide world a happiness like to mine!" said the
+prince, in his soft, melodious voice, and with a kind of exhaustion:
+"therefore do I feel great sadness, and so it should be. You give me
+heaven--and were I to give you the whole earth, it would be but a poor
+return. Alas! what can man do for a divinity, but humbly bless and
+adore? He can never hope to return the gifts bestowed: and this makes
+him suffer--not in his pride--but in his heart!"
+
+Djalma did not exaggerate. He said what he really felt: and the rather
+hyperbolical form, familiar to Oriental nations, could alone express his
+thought. The tone of his regret was so sincere, his humility so gentle
+and full of simplicity, that Adrienne, also moved to tears, answered him
+with an effusion of serious tenderness, "My friend, we are both at
+the supreme point of happiness. Our future felicity appears to have no
+limits, and yet, though derived from different sources, sad reflections
+have come to both of us. It is, you see, that there are some sorts of
+happiness, which make you dizzy with their own immensity. For a moment,
+the heart, the mind, the soul, are incapable of containing so much
+bliss; it overflows and drowns us. Thus the flowers sometimes hang their
+heads, oppressed by the too ardent rays of the sun, which is yet their
+love and life. Oh, my friend! this sadness may be great, but it also
+sweet!"
+
+As she uttered these words, the voice of Adrienne grew fainter and
+fainter, and her head bowed lower, as if she were indeed sinking beneath
+the weight of her happiness. Djalma had remained kneeling before her,
+his hands in hers--so that as she thus bent forward, her ivory forehead
+and golden hair touched the amber-colored brow and ebon curls of Djalma.
+And the sweet, silent tears of the two young lovers flowed together, and
+mingled as they fell on their clasped hands.
+
+Whilst this scene was passing in Cardoville House, Agricola had gone to
+the Rue de Vaugirard, to deliver a letter from Adrienne to M. Hardy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. "THE IMITATION."
+
+As we have already said, M. Hardy occupied a pavilion in the "Retreat"
+annexed to the house in the Rue de Vaugirard, inhabited by a goodly
+number of the reverend fathers of the Company of Jesus. Nothing could be
+calmer and more silent than this dwelling. Every one spoke in whispers,
+and the servants themselves had something oily in their words, something
+sanctified in their very walk.
+
+Like all that is subject to the chilling and destructive influences of
+these men, this mournfully quiet house was entirely wanting in life
+and animation. The boarders passed an existence of wearisome and icy
+monotony, only broken by the use of certain devotional exercises;
+and thus, in accordance with the selfish calculation of the reverend
+fathers, the mind, deprived of all nourishment and all external support,
+soon began to droop and pine away in solitude. The heart seemed to beat
+more slowly, the soul was benumbed, the character weakened; at last,
+all freewill, all power of discrimination, was extinguished, and the
+boarders, submitting to the same process of self-annihilation as the
+novices of the Company, became, like them, mere "corpses" in the hands
+of the brotherhood.
+
+The object of these manoeuvres was clear and simple. They secured the
+means of obtaining all kinds of donations, the constant aim of the
+skillful policy and merciless cupidity of these priests. By the aid of
+enormous sums, of which they thus become the possessors or the trustees,
+they follow out and obtain the success of their projects, even though
+murder, incendiarism, revolt, and all the horrors of civil war, excited
+by and through them, should drench in blood the lands over which they
+seek to extend their dark dominion.
+
+Such, then, was the asylum of peace and innocence in which Francois
+Hardy had taken refuge. He occupied the ground-floor of a summer-house,
+which opened upon a portion of the garden. His apartments had been
+judiciously chosen, for we know with what profound and diabolical craft
+the reverend fathers avail themselves of material influences, to make
+a deep impression upon the minds they are moulding to their purpose.
+Imagine a prospect bounded by a high wall, of a blackish gray,
+half-covered with ivy, the plant peculiar to ruins. A dark avenue of
+old yew-trees, so fit to shade the grave with their sepulchral verdure,
+extended from this wall to a little semicircle, in front of the
+apartment generally occupied by M. Hardy. Two or three mounds of earth,
+bordered with box, symmetrically cut, completed the charms of this
+garden, which in every respect resembled a cemetery.
+
+It was about two o'clock in the afternoon. Though the April sun shone
+brightly, its rays, intercepted by the high wall of which we have
+spoken, could not penetrate into that portion of the garden, obscure,
+damp, and cold as a cavern, which communicated with M. Hardy's
+apartment. The room was furnished with a perfect sense of the
+comfortable. A soft carpet covered the floor; thick curtains of dark
+green baize, the same color as the walls, sheltered an excellent bed,
+and hung in folds about the glass door, which opened on the garden. Some
+pieces of mahogany furniture, plain, but very clean and bright, stood
+round the room. Above the secretary, placed just in front of the
+bed, was a large ivory crucifix, upon a black velvet ground. The
+chimney-piece was adorned with a clock, in an ebony case, with
+ivory ornaments representing all sorts of gloomy emblems, such as
+hour-glasses, scythes, death's-heads, etc. Now imagine this scene in
+twilight, with its solitary and mournful silence, only broken at the
+hour of prayer by the lugubrious sound of the bells of the neighboring
+chapel, and you will recognize the infernal skill, with which these
+dangerous priests know how to turn to account every external object,
+when they wish to influence the mind of those they are anxious to gain
+over.
+
+And this was not all. After appealing to the senses, it was necessary to
+address themselves to the intellect--and this was the method adopted by
+the reverend fathers. A single book--but one--was left, as if by chance,
+within reach. This book was Thomas a Kempis' "Imitation." But as it
+might happen that M. Hardy would not have the courage or the desire to
+read this book, thoughts and reflections borrowed from its merciless
+pages, and written in very large characters, were suspended in black
+frames close to the bed, or at other parts within sight, so that,
+involuntarily, in the sad leisure of his inactive dejection, the
+dweller's eyes were almost necessarily attracted by them. To that fatal
+circle of despairing thoughts they confined the already weakened mind of
+this unfortunate man, so long a prey to the most acute sorrow. What
+he read mechanically, every instant of the day and night, whenever the
+blessed sleep fled from his eyes inflamed with tears, was not enough
+merely to plunge the soul of the victim into incurable despair, but also
+to reduce him to the corpse-like obedience required by the Society of
+Jesus. In that awful book may be found a thousand terrors to operate
+on weak minds, a thousand slavish maxims to chain and degrade the
+pusillanimous soul.
+
+And now imagine M. Hardy carried wounded into this house; while his
+heart, torn by bitter grief and the sense of horrible treachery, bled
+even faster than his external injuries. Attended with the utmost care,
+and thanks to the acknowledged skill of Dr. Baleinier, M. Hardy soon
+recovered from the hurts he had received when he threw himself into the
+embers of his burning factory. Yet, in order to favor the projects
+of the reverend fathers, a drug, harmless enough in its effects, but
+destined to act for a time upon the mind of the patient, and often
+employed for that purpose in similar important cases by the pious
+doctor, was administered to Hardy, and had kept him pretty long in
+a state of mental torpor. To a soul agonized by cruel deceptions, it
+appears an inestimable benefit to be plunged into that kind of torpor,
+which at least prevents one from dwelling upon the past.
+
+Hardy resigned himself entirely to this profound apathy, and at length
+came to regard it as the supreme good. Thus do unfortunate wretches,
+tortured by cruel diseases, accept with gratitude the opiate which kills
+them slowly, but which at least deadens the sense of pain.
+
+In sketching the portrait of M. Hardy, we tried to give some idea of
+the exquisite delicacy of his tender soul, of his painful susceptibility
+with regard to anything base or wicked, and of his extreme goodness,
+uprightness, and generosity. We now allude to these admirable qualities,
+because we must observe, that with him, as with almost all who possess
+them, they were not, and could not be, united with an energetic and
+resolute character. Admirably persevering in good deeds, the influence
+of this excellent man, was insinuating rather than commanding; it was
+not by the bold energy and somewhat overbearing will, peculiar to other
+men of great and noble heart, that Hardy had realized the prodigy of his
+Common Dwelling-house; it was by affectionate persuasion, for with him
+mildness took the place of force. At sight of any baseness or injustice,
+he did not rouse himself, furious and threatening; but he suffered
+intense pain. He did not boldly attack the criminal, but he turned
+away from him in pity and sorrow. And then his loving heart, so full of
+feminine delicacy, had an irresistible longing for the blessed contact
+of dear affections; they alone could keep it alive. Even as a poor,
+frail bird dies with the cold, when it can no longer lie close to its
+brethren, and receive and communicate the sweet warmth of the maternal
+nest. And now this sensitive organization, this extremely susceptible
+nature, receives blow after blow from sorrows and deceptions, one of
+which would suffice to shake, if it did not conquer, the firmest and
+most resolute character. Hardy's best friend has infamously betrayed
+him. His adored mistress has abandoned him.
+
+The house which he had founded for the benefit of his workmen, whom he
+loved as brethren, is reduced to a heap of ashes. What then happens? All
+the springs of his soul are at once broken. Too feeble to resist
+such frightful attacks, too fatally deceived to seek refuge in other
+affections, too much discouraged to think of laying the first stone
+of any new edifice--this poor heart, isolated from every salutary
+influence, finds oblivion of the world and of itself in a kind of gloomy
+torpor. And if some remaining instincts of life and affection, at
+long intervals, endeavored to rouse themselves within him, and if,
+half-opening his mind's eye, which he had kept closed against the
+present, the past, and the future, Hardy looks around him--what does he
+see? Only these sentences, so full of terrible despair:
+
+"Thou art nothing but dust and ashes. Grief and tears art thy portion.
+Believe not in any son of man. There are no such things as friendship or
+ties of kindred. All human affections are false. Die in the morning, and
+thou wilt be forgotten before night. Be humble--despise thyself--and
+let others despise thee. Think not, reason not, live not--but commit
+thy fate to the hands of a superior, who will think and reason for thee.
+Weep, suffer, think upon death. Yes, death! always death--that should
+be thy thought when thou thinkest--but it is better not to think at all.
+Let a feeling of ceaseless woe prepare thy way to heaven. It is only by
+sorrow that we are welcome to the terrible God whom we adore!"
+
+Such were the consolations offered to this unfortunate man. Affrighted,
+he again closed his eyes, and fell back into his lethargy. As for
+leaving this gloomy retreat, he could not, or rather he did not desire
+to do so. He had lost the power of will; and then, it must be confessed,
+he had finished by getting accustomed to this house, and liked it
+well--they paid him such discreet attentions, and yet left him so
+much alone with his grief--there reigned all around such a death-like
+silence, which harmonized closely with the silence of his heart; and
+that was now the tomb of his last love, last friendship, last hope.
+All energy was dead within him! Then began that slow, but inevitable
+transformation, so judiciously foreseen by Rodin, who directed the whole
+of this machination, even in its smallest details. At first alarmed
+by the dreadful maxims which surrounded him, M. Hardy had at length
+accustomed himself to read them over almost mechanically, just as the
+captive, in his mournful hours of leisure, counts the nails in the door
+of his prison, or the bars of the grated window. This was already a
+great point gained by the reverend fathers.
+
+And soon his weakened mind was struck with the apparent correctness of
+these false and melancholy aphorisms.
+
+Thus he read: "Do not count upon the affection of any human
+creature"--and he had himself been shamefully betrayed.
+
+"Man is born to sorrow and despair"--and he was himself despairing.
+
+"There is no rest save in the cessation of thought"--and the slumber of
+his mind had brought some relief to his pain.
+
+Peepholes, skillfully concealed by the hangings and in the wainscoting
+of these apartments, enabled the reverend fathers at all times to see
+and hear the boarders, and above all to observe their countenance and
+manner, when they believed themselves to be alone. Every exclamation of
+grief which escaped Hardy in his gloomy solitude, was repeated to Father
+d'Aigrigny by a mysterious listener. The reverend father, following
+scrupulously Rodin's instructions, had at first visited his boarder very
+rarely. We have said, that when Father d'Aigrigny wished it, he could
+display an almost irresistible power of charming, and accordingly he
+threw all his tact and skill into the interviews he had with Hardy,
+when he came from time to time to inquire after his health. Informed of
+everything by his spies, and aided by his natural sagacity, he soon saw
+all the use that might be made of the physical and moral prostration of
+the boarder. Certain beforehand that Hardy would not take the hint,
+he spoke to him frequently of the gloom of the house, advising him
+affectionately to leave it, if he felt oppressed by its monotony, or at
+all events to seek beyond its walls for some pleasure and amusement.
+To speak of pleasure and amusement to this unfortunate man, was in his
+present state to insure a refusal, and so it of course happened. Father
+d'Aigrigny did not at first try to gain the recluse's confidence, nor
+did he speak to him of sorrow; but every time he came, he appeared to
+take such a tender interest in him, and showed it by a few simple and
+well timed words. By degrees, these interviews, at first so rare, became
+more frequent and longer. Endowed with a flow of honeyed, insinuating,
+and persuasive eloquence, Father d'Aigrigny naturally took for his
+theme those gloomy maxims, to which Hardy's attention was now so often
+directed.
+
+Supple, prudent, skillful, knowing that the hermit had hitherto
+professed that generous natural religion which teaches the grateful
+adoration of God, the love of humanity, the worship of what is just and
+good, and which, disdaining dogmas, professes the same veneration for
+Marcus Aurelius as for Confucius, for Plato as for Christ, for Moses as
+for Lycurgus--Father d'Aigrigny did not at first attempt to convert
+him, but began by incessantly reminding him of the abominable deceptions
+practised upon him; and, instead of describing such treachery as an
+exception in life--instead of trying to calm, encourage, and revive
+his drooping soul--instead of exhorting Hardy to seek oblivion and
+consolation in the discharge of his duties toward humanity, towards his
+brethren, whom he had previously loved and succored--Father d'Aigrigny
+strove to inflame the bleeding wounds of the unfortunate man, painted
+the human race in the most atrocious blackness, and, by declaring all
+men treacherous, ungrateful, wicked, succeeded in rendering his despair
+incurable. Having attained this object, the Jesuit took another step.
+Knowing Hardy's admirable goodness of heart, and profiting by the
+weakened state of his mind, he spoke to him of the consolation to be
+derived by a man overwhelmed with sorrow, from the belief that every one
+of his tears, instead of being unfruitful, was in fact agreeable to God,
+and might aid in the salvation of souls--the belief, as the reverend
+father adroitly added, that by faith alone can sorrow be made useful to
+humanity, and acceptable to Divinity.
+
+Whatever impiety, whatever atrocious Machiavelism there was in these
+detestable maxims, which make of a loving-kind Deity a being delighted
+with the tears of his creatures, was thus skillfully concealed from
+Hardy's eyes, whose generous instincts were still alive. Soon did this
+loving and tender soul, whom unworthy priests were driving to a sort of
+moral suicide, find a mournful charm in the fiction, that his sorrows
+would at least be profitable to other men. It was at first only a
+fiction; but the enfeebled mind which takes pleasure in such a fable,
+finishes by receiving it as a reality, and by degrees will submit to the
+consequences. Such was Hardy's moral and physical state, when, by means
+of a servant who had been bought over, he received from Agricola Baudoin
+a letter requesting an interview. Alone, the workman could not have
+broken the band of the Jesuit's pleadings, but he was accompanied by
+Gabriel, whose eloquence and reasonings were of a most convincing nature
+to a spirit like Hardy's.
+
+It is unnecessary to point out to the reader, with what dignified
+reserve Gabriel had confined himself to the most generous means of
+rescuing Hardy from the deadly influence of the reverend fathers. It
+was repugnant to the great soul of the young missionary, to stoop to
+a revelation of the odious plots of these priests. He would only have
+taken this extreme course, had his powerful and sympathetic words have
+failed to have any effect on Hardy's blindness. About a quarter of an
+hour had elapsed since Gabriel's departure, when the servant appointed
+to wait on this boarder of the reverend fathers entered and delivered to
+him a letter.
+
+"From whom is this?" asked Hardy.
+
+"From a boarder in the house, sir," answered the servant bowing.
+
+This man had a crafty hypocritical face; he wore his hair combed over
+his forehead, spoke in a low voice, and always cast clown his eyes.
+Waiting the answer, he joined his hands, and began to twiddle his
+thumbs. Hardy opened the letter, and read as follows:
+
+"SIR,--I have only just heard, by mere chance, that you also inhabit
+this respectable house: a long illness, and the retirement in which I
+live, will explain my ignorance of your being so near. Though we have
+only met once, sir, the circumstance which led to that meeting was of so
+serious a nature, that I cannot think you have forgotten it."
+
+Hardy stopped, and tasked his memory for an explanation, and not finding
+anything to put him on the right track, he continued to read:
+
+"This circumstance excited in me a feeling of such deep and respectful
+sympathy for you, sir, that I cannot resist my anxious desire to wait
+upon you, particularly as I learn, that you intend leaving this house to
+day--a piece of information I have just derived from the excellent and
+worthy Abbe Gabriel, one of the men I most love, esteem, and reverence.
+May I venture to hope, sir, that just at the moment of quitting our
+common retreat to return to the world, you will deign to receive
+favorably the request, however intrusive, of a poor old man, whose life
+will henceforth be passed in solitude, and who cannot therefore have
+any prospect of meeting you, in that vortex of society which he has
+abandoned forever. Waiting the honor of your answer, I beg you to
+accept, sir, the assurance of the sentiments of high esteem with which I
+remain, sir, with the deepest respect,
+
+"Your very humble and most obedient servant,
+
+"RODIN."
+
+After reading this letter and the signature of the writer, Hardy
+remained for some time in deep thought, without being able to recollect
+the name of Rodin, or to what serious circumstances he alluded.
+
+After a silence of some duration, he said to the servant "M. Rodin gave
+you this letter?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And who is M. Rodin?"
+
+"A good old gentleman, who is just recovering from a long illness, that
+almost carried him off. Lately, he has been getting better, but he is
+still so weak and melancholy, that it makes one sad to see him. It is a
+great pity, for there is not a better and more worthy gentleman in the
+house--unless it be you, sir," added the servant, bowing with an air of
+flattering respect.
+
+"M. Rodin;" said Hardy, thoughtfully. "It is singular, that I should not
+remember the name nor any circumstance connected with it."
+
+"If you will give me your answer, sir," resumed the servant, "I will
+take it to M. Rodin. He is now with Father d'Aigrigny, to whom he is
+bidding farewell."
+
+"Farewell?"
+
+"Yes, sir, the post-horses have just come."
+
+"Post-horses for whom?" asked Hardy.
+
+"For Father d'Aigrigny, sir."
+
+"He is going on a journey then!" said Hardy, with some surprise.
+
+"Oh! he will not, I think be long absent," said the servant, with a
+confidential air, "for the reverend father takes no one with him, and
+but very light luggage. No doubt, the reverend father will come to say
+farewell to you, sir, before he starts. But what answer shall I give M.
+Rodin?"
+
+The letter, just received, was couched in such polite terms--it spoke
+of Gabriel with so much respect--that Hardy, urged moreover by a natural
+curiosity, and seeing no motive to refuse this interview before quitting
+the house, said to the servant: "Please tell M. Rodin, that if he will
+give himself the trouble to come to me, I shall be glad to see him."
+
+"I will let him know immediately, sir," answered the servant, bowing as
+he left the room.
+
+When alone, Hardy, while wondering who this M. Rodin could be, began
+to make some slight preparations for his departure. For nothing in the
+world would he have passed another night in this house; and, in order
+to keep up his courage, he recalled every instant the mild, evangelical
+language of Gabriel, just as the superstitious recite certain litanies,
+with a view of escaping from temptation.
+
+The servant soon returned, and said: "M. Rodin is here, sir."
+
+"Beg him to walk in."
+
+Rodin entered, clad in his long black dressing-gown, and with his
+old silk cap in his hand. The servant then withdrew. The day was just
+closing. Hardy rose to meet Rodin, whose features he did not at first
+distinguish. But as the reverend father approached the window, Hardy
+looked narrowly at him for an instant, and then uttered an exclamation,
+wrung from him by surprise and painful remembrance. But, recovering
+himself from this first movement, Hardy said to the Jesuit, in an
+agitated voice: "You here, sir? Oh, you are right! It was indeed a very
+serious circumstance that first brought us together."
+
+"Oh, my dear sir!" said Rodin, in a kindly and unctuous tone; "I was
+sure you would not have forgotten me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. PRAYER.
+
+It will doubtless be remembered that Rodin had gone (although a stranger
+to Hardy) to visit him at his factory, and inform him of De Blessac's
+shameful treachery--a dreadful blow, which had only preceded by a few
+moments a second no less horrible misfortune; for it was in the presence
+of Rodin that Hardy had learned the unexpected departure of the woman
+he adored. Painful to him must have been the sudden appearance of
+Rodin. Yes, thanks to the salutary influence of Gabriel's counsels, he
+recovered himself by degrees, and the contraction of his features being
+succeeded by a melancholy calm, he said to Rodin: "I did not indeed
+expect to meet you, sir, in this house."
+
+"Alas, sir!" answered Rodin, with a sigh, "I did not expect to come
+hither, probably to end my days beneath this roof, when I went, without
+being acquainted with you, but only as one honest man should serve
+another, to unveil to you a great infamy."
+
+"Indeed, sir, you then rendered me a true service; perhaps, in that
+painful moment, I did not fully express my gratitude; for, at the same
+moment in which you revealed to me the treachery of M. de Blessac--"
+
+"You were overwhelmed by another piece of painful intelligence," said
+Rodin, interrupting M. Hardy; "I shall never forget the sudden arrival
+of that poor woman, who, pale and affrighted, and without considering my
+presence, came to inform you that a person who was exceedingly dear to
+you had quitted Paris abruptly."
+
+"Yes, sir; and, without stopping to thank you, I set out immediately,"
+answered Hardy, with a mournful air.
+
+"Do you know, sir," said Rodin, after a moment's silence, "that there
+are sometimes very strange coincidences?"
+
+"To what do you allude, sir?"
+
+"While I went to inform you that you were betrayed in so infamous a
+manner--I was myself--"
+
+Rodin paused, as if unable to control his deep emotion, and his
+countenance wore the expression of such overpowering grief that Hardy
+said to him, with interest: "What ails you, sir?"
+
+"Forgive me," replied Rodin, with a bitter smile. "Thanks to the
+ghostly counsels of the angelic Abbe Gabriel, I have reached a sort of
+resignation. Still, there are certain memories which affect me with the
+most acute pain. I told you," resumed Rodin, in a firmer voice, "or was
+going to tell you, that the very day after that on which I informed you
+of the treachery practised against you, I was myself the victim of a
+frightful deception. An adopted son--a poor unfortunate child, whom
+I had brought up--" He paused again, drew his trembling hand over his
+eyes, and added: "Pardon me, sir, for speaking of matters which must
+be indifferent to you. Excuse the intrusive sorrow of a poor, broken
+hearted old man!"
+
+"I have suffered too much myself, sir, to be indifferent to any kind of
+sorrow," replied Hardy. "Besides, you are no stranger to me--for you
+did me a real service--and we both agree in our veneration for the same
+young priest."
+
+"The Abbe Gabriel!" cried Rodin, interrupting Hardy; "ah, sir! he is my
+deliverer, my benefactor. If you knew all his care and devotion, during
+my long illness, caused by intense grief--if you knew the ineffable
+sweetness of his counsels--"
+
+"I know them, sir," cried Hardy; "oh, yes! I know how salutary is the
+influence."
+
+"In his mouth, sir, the precepts of religion are full of mildness,"
+resumed Rodin, with excitement. "Do they not heal and console? do they
+not make us love and hope, instead of fear and tremble?"
+
+"Alas, sir! in this very house," said Hardy, "I have been able to make
+the comparison."
+
+"I was happy enough," said Rodin, "to have the angelic Abbe Gabriel for
+my confessor, or, rather, my confidant."
+
+"Yes," replied Hardy, "for he prefers confidence to confession."
+
+"How well you know him!" said Rodin, in a tone of the utmost simplicity.
+Then he resumed: "He is not a man but an angel. His words would convert
+the most hardened sinner. Without being exactly impious, I had myself
+lived in the profession of what is called Natural Religion; but the
+angelic Abbe Gabriel has, by degrees, fixed my wavering belief, given it
+body and soul, and, in fact, endowed me with faith."
+
+"Yes! he is a truly Christian priest--a priest of love and pardon!"
+cried Hardy.
+
+"What you say is perfectly true," replied Rodin; "for I came here almost
+mad with grief, thinking only of the unhappy boy who had repaid my
+paternal goodness with the most monstrous ingratitude, and sometimes I
+yielded to violent bursts of despair, and sometimes sank into a state
+of mournful dejection, cold as the grave itself. But, suddenly, the
+Abbe Gabriel appeared--and the darkness fled before the dawning of a new
+day."
+
+"You were right, sir; there are strange coincidences," said Hardy,
+yielding more and more to the feeling of confidence and sympathy,
+produced by the resemblance of his real position to Rodin's pretended
+one. "And to speak frankly," he added, "I am very glad I have seen you
+before quitting this house. Were I capable of falling back into fits of
+cowardly weakness, your example alone would prevent me. Since I listen
+to you, I feel myself stronger in the noble path which the angelic Abbe
+Gabriel has opened before me, as you so well express it."
+
+"The poor old man will not then regret having listened to the first
+impulse of his heart, which urged him to come to you," said Robin, with
+a touching expression. "You will sometimes remember me in that world to
+which you are returning?"
+
+"Be sure of it, sir; but allow me to ask one question: You remain, you
+say, in this house?"
+
+"What would you have me do? There reigns here a calm repose, and one is
+not disturbed in one's prayers," said Rodin, in a very gentle tone. "You
+see, I have suffered so much--the conduct of that unhappy youth was
+so horrible--he plunged into such shocking excesses--that the wrath of
+heaven must be kindled against him. Now I am very old, and it is only by
+passing the few days that are left me in fervent prayer that I can hope
+to disarm the just anger of the Lord. Oh! prayer--prayer! It was
+the Abbe Gabriel who revealed to me all its power and sweetness--and
+therewith the formidable duties it imposes."
+
+"Its duties are indeed great and sacred," answered Hardy, with a pensive
+air.
+
+"Do you remember the life of Rancey?" said Rodin, abruptly, as he darted
+a peculiar glance at Hardy.
+
+"The founder of La Trappe?" said Hardy, surprised at Rodin's question.
+"I remember hearing a very vague account, some time ago, of the motives
+of his conversion."
+
+"There is, mark you, no more striking an example of the power of prayer,
+and of the state of almost divine ecstasy, to which it may lead a
+religious soul. In a few words, I will relate to you this instructive
+and tragic history. Rancey--but I beg your pardon; I fear I am
+trespassing on your time."
+
+"No, no," answered Hardy, hastily; "You cannot think how interested I
+am in what you tell me. My interview with the Abbe Gabriel was abruptly
+broken off, and in listening to you I fancy that I hear the further
+development of his views. Go on, I conjure you.
+
+"With all my heart. I only wish that the instruction which, thanks
+to our angelic priest, I derived from the story of Rancey might be as
+profitable to you as it was to me."
+
+"This, then, also came from the Abbe Gabriel?"
+
+"He related to me this kind of parable in support of his exhortations,"
+replied Rodin. "Oh, sir! do I not owe to the consoling words of that
+young priest all that has strengthened and revived my poor old broken
+heart?"
+
+"Then I shall listen to you with a double interest."
+
+"Rancey was a man of the world," resumed Rodin, as he looked attentively
+at Hardy; "a gentleman--young, ardent, handsome. He loved a young lady
+of high rank. I cannot tell what impediments stood in the way of their
+union. But this love, though successful, was kept secret, and every
+evening Rancey visited his mistress by means of a private staircase. It
+was, they say, one of those passionate loves which men feel but once
+in their lives. The mystery, even the sacrifice made by the unfortunate
+girl, who forgot every duty, seemed to give new charms to this guilty
+passion. In the silence and darkness of secrecy, these two lovers passed
+two years of voluptuous delirium, which amounted almost to ecstasy."
+
+At these words Hardy started. For the first time of late his brow was
+suffused with a deep blush; his heart throbbed violently; he remembered
+that he too had once known the ardent intoxication of a guilty and
+hidden love. Though the day was closing rapidly, Rodin cast a sidelong
+glance at Hardy, and perceived the impression he had made. "Some
+times," he continued, "thinking of the dangers to which his mistress
+was exposed, if their connection should be discovered, Rancey wished to
+sever these delicious ties; but the girl, beside herself with passion,
+threw herself on the neck of her lover, and threatened him, in the
+language of intense excitement, to reveal and to brave all, if he
+thought of leaving her. Too weak and loving to resist the prayers of his
+mistress, Rancey again and again yielded, and they both gave themselves
+up to a torrent of delight, which carried them along, forgetful of earth
+and heaven!"
+
+M. Hardy listened to Rodin with feverish and devouring avidity. The
+Jesuit, in painting, with these almost sensual colors, an ardent and
+secret love, revived in Hardy burning memories, which till now had been
+drowned in tears. To the beneficent calm produced by the mild language
+of Gabriel had succeeded a painful agitation, which, mingled with the
+reaction of the shocks received that day, began to throw his mind into a
+strange state of confusion.
+
+Rodin, having so far succeeded in his object, continued as follows: "A
+fatal day came at last. Rancey, obliged to go to the wars, quitted the
+girl; but, after a short campaign, he returned, more in love than ever.
+He had written privately, to say he would arrive almost immediately
+after his letter. He came accordingly. It was night. He ascended, as
+usual, the private staircase which led to the chamber of his mistress;
+he entered the room, his heart beating with love and hope. His mistress
+had died that morning!"
+
+"Ah!" cried Hardy, covering his face with his hands, in terror.
+
+"She was dead," resumed Rodin. "Two wax-candles were burning beside the
+funeral couch. Rancey could not, would not believe that she was dead.
+He threw himself on his knees by the corpse. In his delirium, he seized
+that fair, beloved head, to cover it with kisses. The head parted from
+the body, and remained in his hands! Yes," resumed Rodin as Hardy drew
+back, pale and mute with terror, "yes, the girl had fallen a victim
+to so swift and extraordinary a disease, that she had not been able to
+receive the last sacraments. After her death, the doctors, in the hope
+of discovering the cause of this unknown malady, had begun to dissect
+that fair form--"
+
+As Rodin reached this part of his narrative, night was almost come.
+A sort of hazy twilight alone reigned in this silent chamber, in the
+centre of which appeared the pale and ghastly form of Rodin, clad in his
+long black gown, whilst his eyes seemed to sparkle with diabolic fire.
+Overcome by the violent emotions occasioned by this story, in which
+thoughts of death and voluptuousness, love and horror, were so strangely
+mingled, Hardy remained fixed and motionless, waiting for the words of
+Rodin, with a combination of curiosity, anguish and alarm.
+
+"And Rancey?" said he, at last, in an agitated voice, whilst he wiped
+the cold sweat from his brow.
+
+"After two days of furious delirium," resumed Rodin, "he renounced the
+world, and shut himself up in impenetrable solitude. The first period
+of his retreat was frightful; in his despair, he uttered loud yells of
+grief and rage, that were audible at some distance. Twice he attempted
+suicide, to escape from the terrible visions."
+
+"He had visions, then?" said Hardy, with an increased agony of
+curiosity.
+
+"Yes," replied Rodin, in a solemn tone, "he had fearful visions. He saw
+the girl, who, for his sake, had died in mortal sin, plunged in the
+heat of the everlasting flames of hell! On that fair face, disfigured by
+infernal tortures, was stamped the despairing laugh of the damned! Her
+teeth gnashed with pain; her arms writhed in anguish! She wept tears
+of blood, and, with an agonized and avenging voice, she cried to her
+seducer: 'Thou art the cause of my perdition--my curse, my curse be upon
+thee!'"
+
+As he pronounced these last words, Rodin advanced three steps nearer to
+Hardy, accompanying each step with a menacing gesture. If we remember
+the state of weakness, trouble, and fear, in which M. Hardy was--if we
+remember that the Jesuit had just roused in the soul of this unfortunate
+man all the sensual and spiritual memories of a love, cooled, but not
+extinguished, in tears--if we remember, too, that Hardy reproached
+himself with the seduction of a beloved object, whom her departure from
+her duties might (according to the Catholic faith) doom to
+everlasting flames--we shall not wonder at the terrible effect of this
+phantasmagoria, conjured up in silence and solitude, in the evening
+dusk, by this fearful priest.
+
+The effect on Hardy was indeed striking, and the more dangerous, that
+the Jesuit, with diabolical craft, seemed only to be carrying out, from
+another point of view, the ideas of Gabriel. Had not the young
+priest convinced Hardy that nothing is sweeter, than to ask of heaven
+forgiveness for those who have sinned, or whom we have led astray? But
+forgiveness implies punishment; and it was to the punishment alone that
+Rodin drew the attention of his victim, by painting it in these terrible
+hues. With hands clasped together, and eye fixed and dilated, Hardy
+trembled in all his limbs, and seemed still listening to Rodin, though
+the latter had ceased to speak. Mechanically, he repeated: "My curse, my
+curse be upon thee?"
+
+Then suddenly he exclaimed, in a kind of frenzy: "The curse is on me
+also! The woman, whom I taught to forget her sacred duties, and to
+commit mortal sin--one day plunged in the everlasting flames--her arms
+writhing in agony--weeping tears of blood--will cry to me from the
+bottomless pit: 'My curse, my curse be upon thee!'--One day," he
+added, with redoubled terror, "one day?--who knows? perhaps at
+this moment!--for if the sea voyage had been fatal to her--if a
+shipwreck--oh, God! she too would have died in mortal sin--lost, lost,
+forever!--Oh, have mercy on her, my God! Crush me in Thy wrath--but have
+mercy on her--for I alone am guilty!"
+
+And the unfortunate man, almost delirious, sank with clasped hands upon
+the ground.
+
+"Sir," cried Rodin, in an affectionate voice, as he hastened to lift him
+up, "my dear sir--my dear friend--be calm! Comfort yourself. I cannot
+bear to see you despond. Alas! my intention was quite the contrary to
+that."
+
+"The curse! the curse! yes, she will curse me also--she, that I loved
+so much--in the everlasting flames!" murmured Hardy, shuddering, and
+apparently insensible to the other's words.
+
+"But, my dear sir, listen to me, I entreat you," resumed the latter;
+"let me finish my story, and then you will find it as consoling as it
+now seems terrible. For heaven's sake, remember the adorable words of
+our angelic Abbe Gabriel, with regard to the sweetness of prayer."
+
+At the name of Gabriel, Hardy recovered himself a little, and exclaimed,
+in a heart-rending tone: "Ay! his words were sweet and beneficent. Where
+are they now? For mercy's sake, repeat to me those consoling words."
+
+"Our angelic Abbe Gabriel," resumed Rodin, "spoke to you of the
+sweetness of prayer--"
+
+"Oh, yes! prayer!"
+
+"Well, my dear sir, listen to me, and you shall see how prayer saved
+Rancey, and made a saint of him. Yes, these frightful torments, that I
+have just described, these threatening visions, were all conquered by
+prayer, and changed into celestial delights."
+
+"I beg of you," said Hardy, in a faint voice, "speak to me of Gabriel,
+speak to me of heaven--but no more flames--no more hell--where sinful
+women weep tears of blood--"
+
+"No, no," replied Rodin; and even as, in describing hell, his tone had
+been harsh and threatening, it now became warm and tender, as he uttered
+the following words: "No; we will have no more images of despair--for,
+as I have told you, after suffering infernal tortures, Rancey, thanks to
+the power of prayer, enjoyed the delights of paradise."
+
+"The delights of paradise?" repeated Hardy, listening with anxious
+attention.
+
+"One day, at the height of his grief, a priest, a good priest--another
+Abbe Gabriel--came to Rancey. Oh, happiness! oh, providential change! In
+a few days, he taught the sufferer the sacred mysteries of prayer--that
+pious intercession of the creature, addressed to the Creator, in
+favor of a soul exposed to the wrath of heaven. Then Rancey seemed
+transformed. His grief was at once appeased. He prayed; and the more
+he prayed, the greater was his hope. He felt that God listened to his
+prayer. Instead of trying to forget his beloved, he now thought of her
+constantly, and prayed for her salvation. Happy in his obscure cell,
+alone with that adored remembrance, he passed days and nights in praying
+for her--plunged in an ineffable, burning, I had almost said amorous
+ecstasy."
+
+It is impossible to give an idea of the tone of almost sensual energy
+with which Rodin pronounced the word "amorous." Hardy started, changing
+from hot to cold. For the first time, his weakened mind caught a glimpse
+of the fatal pleasures of asceticism, and of that deplorable catalepsy,
+described in the lives of St. Theresa, St. Aubierge and others.
+
+Rodin perceived the other's thoughts, and continued "Oh, Rancey was not
+now the man to content himself with a vague, passing prayer, uttered in
+the whirl of the world's business, which swallows it up, and prevents
+it from reaching the ear of heaven. No, no; in the depth of solitude, he
+endeavored to make his prayers even more efficacious, so ardently did he
+desire the eternal salvation of his mistress."
+
+"What did he do then--oh! what did he do in his solitude?" cried Hardy,
+who was now powerless in the hands of the Jesuit.
+
+"First of all," said Rodin, with a slight emphasis, "he became a monk."
+
+"A monk!" repeated Hardy, with a pensive air.
+
+"Yes," resumed Rodin, "he became a monk, because his prayers were thus
+more likely to be favorably accepted. And then, as in solitude our
+thoughts are apt to wander, he fasted, and mortified his flesh, and
+brought into subjection all that was carnal within him, so that,
+becoming all spirit, his prayers might issue like a pure flame from his
+bosom, and ascend like the perfume of incense to the throne of the Most
+High!"
+
+"Oh! what a delicious dream!" cried Hardy, more and more under the
+influence of the spell; "to pray for the woman we have adored, and to
+become spirit--perfume--light!"
+
+"Yes; spirit, perfume, light!" said Rodin, with emphasis. "But it is no
+dream. How many monks, how many hermits, like Rancey, have, by prayers,
+and austerity, and macerations, attained a divine ecstasy! and if you
+only knew the celestial pleasures of such ecstasies!--Thus, after he
+became a monk, the terrible dreams were succeeded by enchanting visions.
+Many times, after a day of fasting, and a night passed in prayers and
+macerations, Rancey sank down exhausted on the floor of his cell! Then
+the spirit freed itself from the vile clogs of matter. His senses were
+absorbed in pleasure; the sound of heavenly harmony struck upon his
+ravished car; a bright, mild light, which was not of this world,
+dawned upon his half-closed eyes; and, at the height of the melodious
+vibrations of the golden harps of the Seraphim, in the centre of a
+glory, compared to which the sun is pale, the monk beheld the image of
+that beloved woman--"
+
+"Whom by his prayers he had at length rescued from the eternal flames?"
+said Hardy, in a trembling voice.
+
+"Yes, herself," replied Rodin, with eloquent enthusiasm, for this
+monster was skilled in every style of speech. "Thanks to the prayers of
+her lover, which the Lord had granted, this woman no longer shed tears
+of blood--no longer writhed her beautiful arms in the convulsions of
+infernal anguish. No, no; still fair--oh! a thousand times fairer than
+when she dwelt on earth--fair with the everlasting beauty of angels--she
+smiled on her lover with ineffable ardor, and, her eyes beaming with a
+mild radiance, she said to him in a tender and passionate voice: 'Glory
+to the Lord! glory to thee, O my beloved! Thy prayers and austerities
+have saved me. I am numbered amongst the chosen. Thanks, my beloved, and
+glory!'--And therewith, radiant in her felicity, she stooped to
+kiss, with lips fragrant with immortality, the lips of the enraptured
+monk--and their souls mingled in that kiss, burning as love, chaste as
+divine grace immense as eternity!"
+
+"Oh!" cried Hardy, completely beside himself; "a whole life of prayer,
+fasting, torture, for such a moment--with her, whom I mourn--with her,
+whom I have perhaps led to perdition!"
+
+"What do you say? such a moment!" cried Rodin, whose yellow forehead was
+bathed in sweat like that of a magnetizer, and who now took Hardy by
+the hand, and drew still closer, as if to breathe into him the burning
+delirium; "it was not once in his religious life--it was almost every
+day, that Rancey, plunged in divine ecstasy, enjoyed these delicious,
+ineffable, superhuman pleasures, which are to the pleasures of earth
+what eternity is to man's existence!"
+
+Seeing, no doubt, that Hardy was now at the point to which he wished to
+bring him, and the night being almost entirely come, the reverend father
+coughed two or three times in a significant manner, and looked towards
+the door. At this moment, Hardy, in the height of his frenzy, exclaimed,
+with a supplicating voice: "A cell--a tomb--and the Ecstatic Vision!"
+
+The door of the room opened, and Father d'Aigrigny entered, with a cloak
+under his arm. A servant followed him, bearing a light.
+
+About ten minutes after this scene, a dozen robust men with frank,
+open countenances, led by Agricola, entered the Rue de Vaugirard, and
+advanced joyously towards the house of the reverend fathers. It was a
+deputation from the former workmen of M. Hardy. They came to escort him,
+and to congratulate him on his return amongst them. Agricola walked at
+their head. Suddenly he saw a carriage with post-horses issuing from
+the gateway of the house. The postilion whipped up the horses, and
+they started at full gallop. Was it chance or instinct? The nearer the
+carriage approached the group of which he formed a part, the more did
+Agricola's heart sink within him.
+
+The impression became so vivid that it was soon changed into a terrible
+apprehension; and at the moment when the vehicle, which had its blinds
+down, was about to pass close by him, the smith, in obedience to a
+resistless impulse, exclaimed, as he rushed to the horses' heads: "Help,
+friends! stop them!"
+
+"Postilion! ten louis if you ride over him!" cried from the carriage the
+military voice of Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+The cholera was still raging. The postilion had heard of the murder of
+the poisoners. Already frightened at the sudden attack of Agricola,
+he struck him a heavy blow on the head with the butt of his whip which
+stretched him senseless on the ground. Then, spurring with all his
+might, he urged his three horses into a triple gallop, and the carriage
+rapidly disappeared, whilst Agricola's companions, who had neither
+understood his actions nor the sense of his words, crowded around the
+smith, and did their best to revive him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. REMEMBRANCES.
+
+Other events took place a few days after the fatal evening in which M.
+Hardy, fascinated and misled by the deplorable, mystic jargon of Rodin,
+had implored Father d'Aigrigny on his knees to remove him far from
+Paris, into some deep solitude where he might devote himself to a life
+of prayer and ascetic austerities. Marshal Simon, since his arrival
+in Paris, had occupied, with his two daughters, a house in the Rue des
+Trois-Freres. Before introducing the reader into this modest dwelling,
+we are obliged to recall to his memory some preceding facts. The day of
+the burning of Hardy 's factory, Marshal Simon had come to consult with
+his father on a question of the highest importance, and to communicate
+to him his painful apprehensions on the subject of the growing sadness
+of his twin daughters, which he was unable to explain.
+
+Marshal Simon held in religious reverence the memory of the Great
+Emperor. His gratitude to the hero was boundless, his devotion blind,
+his enthusiasm founded upon reason, his affection warm as the most
+sincere and passionate friendship. But this was not all.
+
+One day the emperor, in a burst of joy and paternal tenderness, had led
+the marshal to the cradle of the sleeping King of Rome, and said to him,
+as he proudly pointed to the beautiful child: "My old friend, swear to
+me that you will serve the son as you have served the father!"
+
+Marshal Simon took and kept that vow. During the Restoration, the chief
+of a military conspiracy in favor of Napoleon II., he had attempted
+in vain to secure a regiment of cavalry, at that time commanded by
+the Marquis d'Aigrigny. Betrayed and denounced, the marshal, after a
+desperate duel with the future Jesuit, had succeeded in reaching Poland,
+and thus escaping a sentence of death. It is useless to repeat the
+series of events which led the marshal from Poland to India, and then
+brought him back to Paris after the Revolution of July--an epoch at
+which a number of his old comrades in arms had solicited and obtained
+from the government, without his knowledge, the confirmation of the rank
+and title which the emperor had bestowed upon him just before Waterloo.
+
+On his return to Paris, after his long exile, in spite of all the
+happiness he felt in at length embracing his children, Marshal Simon was
+deeply affected on learning the death of their mother, whom he
+adored. Till the last moment, he had hoped to find her in Paris. The
+disappointment was dreadful, and he felt it cruelly, though he sought
+consolation in his children's affection.
+
+But soon new causes of trouble and anxiety were interwoven with his
+life by the machinations of Rodin. Thanks to the secret intrigues of the
+reverend father at the Courts of Rome and Vienna, one of his emissaries,
+in a condition to inspire full confidence, and provided with undeniable
+evidence to support his words, went to Marshal Simon, and said to him:
+"The son of the emperor is dying, the victim of the fears with which the
+name of Napoleon still inspires Europe.
+
+"From this slow expiring, you, Marshal Simon, one of the emperor's most
+faithful friends, are able to rescue this unfortunate prince.
+
+"The correspondence in my hand proves that it would be easy to open
+relations, of the surest and most secret nature, with one of the most
+influential persons about the King of Rome, and this person would be
+disposed to favor the prince's escape.
+
+"It is possible, by a bold, unexpected stroke, to deliver Napoleon II.
+from the custody of Austria, which would leave him to perish by inches
+in an atmosphere that is fatal to him.
+
+"The enterprise may be a rash one, but it has chances of success that
+you Marshal Simon, more than any other, could change into certainties;
+for your devotion to the emperor is well known, and we remember with
+what adventurous audacity you conspired, in 1815, in favor of Napoleon
+II."
+
+The state of languor and decline of the King of Rome was then in France
+a matter of public notoriety. People even went so far as to affirm that
+the son of the hero was carefully trained by priests, who kept him in
+complete ignorance of the glory of his paternal name; and that, by the
+most execrable machinations, they strove day by day to extinguish every
+noble and generous instinct that displayed itself in the unfortunate
+youth. The coldest hearts were touched and softened at the story of
+so sad and fatal a destiny. When we remember the heroic character and
+chivalrous loyalty of Marshal Simon, and his passionate devotion to the
+emperor, we can understand how the father of Rose and Blanche was more
+interested than any one else in the fate of the young prince, and how,
+if occasion offered, he would feel himself obliged not to confine
+his efforts to mere regrets. With regard to the reality of the
+correspondence produced by Rodin's emissary, it had been submitted by
+the marshal to a searching test, by means of his intimacy with one of
+his old companions in arms, who had been for a long period on a mission
+to Vienna, in the time of the empire. The result of this investigation,
+conducted with as much prudence as address, so that nothing should
+transpire, showed that the marshal might give his serious attention to
+the advances made him.
+
+Hence, this proposition threw the father of Rose and Blanche into a
+cruel perplexity; for, to attempt so bold and dangerous an enterprise,
+he must once more abandon his children; whilst, on the contrary, if,
+alarmed at this separation, he renounced the endeavor to save the
+King of Rome, whose lingering death was perfectly true and well
+authenticated, the marshal would consider himself as false to the vow
+he had sworn to the emperor. To end these painful hesitations, full of
+confidence in the inflexible uprightness of his father's character, the
+marshal had gone to ask his advice; unfortunately the old republican
+workman, mortally wounded during the attack on M. Hardy's factory, but
+still pondering over the serious communication of his son, died with
+these words upon his Lips: "My son, you have a great duty to perform,
+under pain of not acting like a man of honor, and of disobeying my last
+will. You must, without hesitation--"
+
+But, by a deplorable fatality, the last words, which would have
+completed the sense of the old workman's thought, were spoken in so
+feeble a voice as to be quite unintelligible. He died, leaving Marshal
+Simon in a worse state of anxiety, as one of the two courses open to him
+had now been formally condemned by his father, in whose judgment he had
+the most implicit and merited confidence. In a word, his mind was now
+tortured by the doubt whether his father had intended, in the name of
+honor and duty, to advise him not to abandon his children, to engage in
+so hazardous an enterprise, or whether, on the contrary, he had wished
+him to leave them for a time, to perform the vow made to the emperor,
+and endeavor at least to rescue Napoleon II. from a captivity that might
+soon be mortal.
+
+This perplexity, rendered more cruel by certain circumstances, to be
+related hereafter, the tragical death of his father, who had expired
+in his arms; the incessant and painful remembrance of his wife, who
+had perished in a land of exile; and finally, the grief he felt at
+perceiving the overgrowing sadness of Rose and Blanche, occasioned
+severe shocks to Marshal Simon. Let us add that, in spite of his natural
+intrepidity, so nobly proved by twenty years of war, the ravages of the
+cholera, the same terrible malady to which his wife had fallen a victim
+in Siberia, filled the marshal with involuntary dread. Yes, this man of
+iron nerves, who had coolly braved death in so many battles, felt the
+habitual firmness of his character give way at sight of the scenes of
+desolation and mourning which Paris offered at every step. Yet, when
+Mdlle. de Cardoville gathered round her the members of her family, to
+warn them against the plot of their enemies, the affectionate tenderness
+of Adrienne for Rose and Blanche appeared to exercise so happy an
+influence on their mysterious sorrow, that the marshal, forgetting for a
+moment his fatal regrets, thought only of enjoying this blessed change,
+which, alas! was but of short duration. Having now recalled these facts
+to the mind of the reader, we shall continue our story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE BLOCKHEAD
+
+We have stated that Marshal Simon occupied a small house in the Rue
+des Trois-Freres. Two o'clock in the afternoon had just struck in the
+marshal's sleeping-chamber, a room furnished with military simplicity.
+In the recess, in which stood the bed, hung a trophy composed of the
+arms used by the marshal during his campaigns. On the secretary opposite
+was a small bronze bust of the emperor, the only ornament of the
+apartment. Out of doors the temperature was far from warm, and the
+marshal had become susceptible to cold during his long residence in
+India. A good fire therefore blazed upon the hearth. A door, concealed
+by the hangings, and leading to a back staircase, opened slowly, and
+a man entered the chamber. He carried a basket of wood, and advanced
+leisurely to the fireplace, before which he knelt clown, and began to
+arrange the logs symmetrically in a box that stood besides the hearth.
+After some minutes occupied in this manner, still kneeling, he gradually
+approached another door, at a little distance from the chimney, and
+appeared to listen with deep attention, as if he wished to hear what was
+passing in the next room.
+
+This man, employed as an inferior servant in the house, had the most
+ridiculously stupid look that can be imagined. His functions consisted
+in carrying wood, running errands, etc. In other respects he was a kind
+of laughing-stock to the other servants. In a moment of good humor,
+Dagobert, who filled the post of major-domo, had given this idiot the
+name of "Loony" (lunatic), which he had retained ever since, and which
+he deserved in every respect, as well for his awkwardness and folly as
+for his unmeaning face, with its grotesquely flat nose, sloping chin,
+and wide, staring eyes. Add to this description a jacket of red stuff,
+and a triangular white apron, and we must acknowledge that the simpleton
+was quite worthy of his name.
+
+Yet, at the moment when Loony listened so attentively at the door of the
+adjoining room, a ray of quick intelligence animated for an instant his
+dull and stupid countenance.
+
+When he had thus listened for a short time, Loony returned to the
+fireplace, still crawling on his knees; then rising, he again took his
+basket half full of wood, and once more approaching the door at which
+he had listened knocked discreetly. No one answered. He knocked a second
+time, and more loudly. Still there was the same silence.
+
+Then he said, in a harsh, squeaking, laughable voice: "Ladies, do you
+want any wood, if you please, for your fire?"
+
+Receiving no answer, Loony placed his basket on the ground, opened the
+door gently, and entered the next room, after casting a rapid glance
+around. He came out again in a few seconds, looking from side to side
+with an anxious air, like a man who had just accomplished some important
+and mysterious task.
+
+Taking up his basket, he was about to leave Marshal Simon's room, when
+the door of the private staircase was opened slowly and with precaution,
+and Dagobert appeared.
+
+The soldier, evidently surprised at the servant's presence, knitted his
+brows, and exclaimed abruptly, "What are you doing here?"
+
+At this sudden interrogation, accompanied by a growl expressive of the
+ill-humor of Spoil-sport, who followed close on his master's heels,
+Loony uttered a cry of real or pretended terror. To give, perhaps, an
+appearance of greater reality to his dread, the supposed simpleton let
+his basket fall on the ground, as if astonishment and fear had loosened
+his hold of it.
+
+"What are you doing, numbskull?" resumed Dagobert, whose countenance was
+impressed with deep sadness, and who seemed little disposed to laugh at
+the fellow's stupidity.
+
+"Oh, M. Dagobert! how you frighten me! Dear me! what a pity I had not an
+armful of plates, to prove it was not my fault if I broke them all."
+
+"I ask what you are doing," resumed the soldier.
+
+"You see, M. Dagobert," replied Loony, pointing to his basket, "that I
+came with some wood to master's room, so that he might burn it, if it
+was cold--which it is."
+
+"Very well. Pick up your wood, and begone!"
+
+"Oh, M. Dagobert! my legs tremble under me. How you did scare me, to be
+sure!"
+
+"Will you begone, brute?" resumed the veteran; and seizing Loony by the
+arm, he pushed him towards the door, while Spoil-sport, with recumbent
+ears, and hair standing up like the quills of a porcupine, seemed
+inclined to accelerate his retreat.
+
+"I am going, M. Dagobert, I am going," replied the simpleton, as he
+hastily gathered up his basket; "only please to tell the dog--"
+
+"Go to the devil, you stupid chatterbox!" cried Dagobert, as he pushed
+Loony through the doorway.
+
+Then the soldier bolted the door which led to the private staircase, and
+going to that which communicated with the apartments of the two sisters,
+he double-locked it. Having done this, he hastened to the alcove
+in which stood the bed and taking down a pair of loaded pistols, he
+carefully removed the percussion caps, and, unable to repress a deep
+sigh, restored the weapons to the place in which he had found them.
+Then, as if on second thoughts, he took down an Indian dagger with a
+very sharp blade, and drawing it from its silver-gilt sheath, proceeded
+to break the point of this murderous instrument, by twisting it beneath
+one of the iron castors of the bed.
+
+Dagobert then proceeded to unfasten the two doors, and, returning slowly
+to the marble chimney-piece, he leaned against it with a gloomy and
+pensive air. Crouching before the fire, Spoil-sport followed with an
+attentive eye the least movement of his master. The good dog displayed
+a rare and intelligent sagacity. The soldier, having drawn out his
+handkerchief, let fall, without perceiving it, a paper containing a roll
+of tobacco. Spoil-sport, who had all the qualities of a retriever of
+the Rutland race, took the paper between his teeth, and, rising upon
+his hind-legs, presented it respectfully to Dagobert. But the latter
+received it mechanically, and appeared indifferent to the dexterity of
+his dog. The grenadier's countenance revealed as much sorrow as
+anxiety. After remaining for some minutes near the fire, with fixed and
+meditative look, he began to walk about the room in great agitation, one
+of his hands thrust into the bosom of his long blue frock-coat, which
+was buttoned up to the chin, and the other into one of his hind-pockets.
+
+From time to time he stopped abruptly, and seemed to make reply to his
+own thoughts, or uttered an exclamation of doubt and uneasiness; then,
+turning towards the trophy of arms, he shook his head mournfully,
+and murmured, "No matter--this fear may be idle; but he has acted so
+extraordinarily these two days, that it is at all events more prudent--"
+
+He continued his walk, and said, after a new and prolonged silence: "Yes
+he must tell me. It makes me too uneasy. And then the poor children--it
+is enough to break one's heart."
+
+And Dagobert hastily drew his moustache between his thumb and
+forefinger, a nervous movement, which with him was an evident symptom
+of extreme agitation. Some minutes after, the soldier resumed, still
+answering his inward thoughts: "What can it be? It is hardly possible to
+be the letters, they are too infamous; he despises them. And yet But no,
+no--he is above that!"
+
+And Dagobert again began to walk with hasty steps. Suddenly, Spoil-sport
+pricked up his ears, turned his head in the direction of the staircase
+door, and growled hoarsely. A few seconds after, some one knocked at the
+door.
+
+"Who is there?" said Dagobert. There was no answer, but the person
+knocked again. Losing patience, the soldier went hastily to open it, and
+saw the servant's stupid face.
+
+"Why don't you answer, when I ask who knocks!" said the soldier,
+angrily.
+
+"M. Dagobert, you sent me away just now, and I was afraid of making you
+cross, if I said I had come again."
+
+"What do you want? Speak then--come in, stupid!" cried the exasperated.
+Dagobert, as he pulled him into the room.
+
+"M. Dagobert, don't be angry--I'll tell you all about it--it is a young
+man."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"He wants to speak to you directly, Mr. Dagobert."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"His name, M. Dagobert?" replied Loony, rolling about and laughing with
+an idiotic air.
+
+"Yes, his name. Speak, idiot!"
+
+"Oh, M. Dagobert! it's all in joke that you ask me his name!"
+
+"You are determined, fool that you are, to drive me out of my senses!"
+cried the soldier, seizing Loony by the collar. "The name of this young
+man!"
+
+"Don't be angry, M. Dagobert. I didn't tell you the name because you
+know it."
+
+"Beast!" said Dagobert, shaking his fist at him.
+
+"Yes, you do know it, M. Dagobert, for the young man is your own son. He
+is downstairs, and wants to speak to you directly--yes, directly."
+
+The stupidity was so well assumed, that Dagobert was the dupe of it.
+Moved to compassion rather than anger by such imbecility, he looked
+fixedly at the servant, shrugged his shoulders, and said, as he advanced
+towards the staircase, "Follow me!"
+
+Loony obeyed; but, before closing the door, he drew a letter secretly
+from his pocket, and dropped it behind him without turning his head,
+saying all the while to Dagobert, for the purpose of occupying his
+attention: "Your son is in the court, M. Dagobert. He would not come
+up--that's why he is still downstairs!"
+
+Thus talking, he closed the door, believing he had left the letter
+on the floor of Marshal Simon's room. But he had reckoned without
+Spoil-sport. Whether he thought it more prudent to bring up the rear,
+or, from respectful deference for a biped, the worthy dog had been the
+last to leave the room, and, being a famous carrier, as soon as he saw
+the letter dropped by Loony, he took it delicately between his teeth,
+and followed close on the heels of the servant, without the latter
+perceiving this new proof of the intelligence and sagacity of
+Spoil-sport.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI. THE ANONYMOUS LETTERS.
+
+We will explain presently what became of the letter, which Spoil-sport
+held between his teeth, and why he left his master, when the latter ran
+to meet Agricola. Dagobert had not seen his son for some days. Embracing
+him cordially, he led him into one of the rooms on the ground floor,
+which he usually occupied. "And how is your wife?" said the soldier to
+his son.
+
+"She is well, father, thank you."
+
+Perceiving a great change in Agricola's countenance, Dagobert resumed:
+"You look sad. Has anything gone wrong since I saw you last?"
+
+"All is over, father. We have lost him," said the smith, in a tone of
+despair.
+
+"Lost whom?"
+
+"M. Hardy."
+
+"M. Hardy!--why, three days ago, you told me you were going to see him."
+
+"Yes, father, I have seen him--and my dear brother Gabriel saw him
+and spoke to him--how he speaks! with a voice that comes from the
+heart!--and he had so revived and encouraged him, that M. Hardy
+consented to return amongst us. Then I, wild with joy, ran to tell the
+good news to some of my mates, who were waiting to hear the result of
+nay interview with M. Hardy. I brought them all with me to thank and
+bless him. We were within a hundred yards of the house belonging to the
+black-gowns--"
+
+"Ali, the black-gowns!" said Dagobert, with a gloomy air. "Then some
+mischief will happen. I know them."
+
+"You are not mistaken, father," answered Agricola, with a sigh. "I was
+running on with my comrades, when I saw a carriage coming towards us.
+Some presentiment told me that they were taking away M. Hardy."
+
+"By force!" said Dagobert, hastily.
+
+"No," answered Agricola, bitterly; "no--the priests are too cunning for
+that. They know how to make you an accomplice in the evil they do you.
+Shall I not always remember how they managed with my good mother?"
+
+"Yes, the worthy woman! there was a poor fly caught in the spider's web.
+But this carriage, of which you speak?"
+
+"On seeing it start from the house of the black-gowns," replied
+Agricola, "my heart sank within me; and, by an impulse stronger than
+myself, I rushed to the horses' heads, calling on my comrades to help
+me. But the postilion knocked me down and stunned me with a blow from
+his whip. When I recovered my senses, the carriage was already far
+away."
+
+"You were not hurt?" cried Dagobert, anxiously, as he examined his son
+from top to toe.
+
+"No, father; a mere scratch."
+
+"What did you next, my boy?"
+
+"I hastened to our good angel, Mdlle. de Cardoville, and told her all.
+'You must follow M. Hardy on the instant,' said she to me. 'Take my
+carriage and post-horses. Dupont will accompany you; follow M. Hardy
+from stage to stage; should you succeed in overtaking him your presence
+and your prayers may perhaps conquer the fatal influence that these
+priests have acquired over him.'"
+
+"It was the best advice she could give you. That excellent young lady is
+always right."
+
+"An hour after, we were upon our way, for we learned by the returned
+postilions, that M. Hardy had taken the Orleans road. We followed him as
+far as Etampes. There we heard that he had taken a cross-road, to reach
+a solitary house in a valley about four leagues from the highway. They
+told us that this house called the Val-de-St. Herem, belonged to certain
+priests, and that, as the night was so dark, and the road so bad, we
+had better sleep at the inn, and start early in the morning. We followed
+this advice, and set out at dawn. In a quarter of an hour, we quitted
+the high-road for a mountainous and desert track. We saw nothing but
+brown rocks, and a few birch trees. As we advanced, the scene became
+wilder and wilder. We might have fancied ourselves a hundred leagues
+from Paris. At last we stopped in front of a large, old, black-looking
+house with only a few small windows in it, and built at the foot of a
+high, rocky mountain. In my whole life I have never seen anything so
+deserted and sad. We got out of the carriage, and I rang the bell. A
+man opened the door. 'Did not the Abbe d'Aigrigny arrive here last night
+with a gentleman?' said I to this man, with a confidential air. 'Inform
+the gentleman directly, that I come on business of importance, and that
+I must see him forthwith.'--The man, believing me an accomplice, showed
+us in immediately; a moment after, the Abbe d'Aigrigny opened the door,
+saw me, and drew back; yet, in five minutes more, I was in presence of
+M. Hardy."
+
+"Well!" said Dagobert, with interest.
+
+Agricola shook his head sorrowfully, and replied: "I knew by the very
+countenance of M. Hardy, that all was over. Addressing me in a mild but
+firm voice, he said to me: 'I understand, I can even excuse, the motives
+that bring you hither. But I am quite determined to live henceforth
+in solitude and prayer. I take this resolution freely and voluntarily,
+because I would fain provide for the salvation of my soul. Tell your
+fellows that my arrangements will be such as to leave them a good
+remembrance of me.'--And as I was about to speak, M. Hardy interrupted
+me, saying: 'It is useless, my friend. My determination is unalterable.
+Do not write to me, for your letters would remain unanswered. Prayer
+will henceforth be my only occupation. Excuse me for leaving you, but I
+am fatigued from my journey!'--He spoke the truth for he was as pale as
+a spectre, with a kind of wildness about the eyes, and so changed since
+the day before, as to be hardly the same man. His hand, when he offered
+it on parting from me, was dry and burning. The Abbe d'Aigrigny soon
+came in. 'Father,' said M. Hardy to him, 'have the goodness to see M.
+Baudoin to the door.'--So saying, he waved his hand to me in token of
+farewell, and retired to the next chamber. All was over; he is lost to
+us forever."
+
+"Yes," said Dagobert, "those black-gowns have enchanted him, like so
+many others."
+
+"In despair," resumed Agricola, "I returned hither with M. Dupont. This,
+then, is what the priests have made of M. Hardy--of that generous man,
+who supported nearly three hundred industrious workmen in order and
+happiness, increasing their knowledge, improving their hearts, and
+earning the benediction of that little people, of which he was the
+providence. Instead of all this, M. Hardy is now forever reduced to a
+gloomy and unavailing life of contemplation."
+
+"Oh, the black-gowns!" said Dagobert, shuddering, and unable to conceal
+a vague sense of fear. "The longer I live, the more I am afraid of them.
+You have seen what those people did to your poor mother; you see what
+they have just done to M. Hardy; you know their plots against my two
+poor orphans, and against that generous young lady. Oh, these people are
+very powerful! I would rather face a battalion of Russian grenadiers,
+than a dozen of these cassocks. But don't let's talk of it. I have
+causes enough beside for grief and fear."
+
+Then seeing the astonished look of Agricola, the soldier, unable to
+restrain his emotion, threw himself into the arms of his son, exclaiming
+with a choking voice: "I can hold out no longer. My heart is too full. I
+must speak; and whom shall I trust if not you?"
+
+"Father, you frighten me!" said Agricola, "What is the matter?"
+
+"Why, you see, had it not been for you and the two poor girls, I should
+have blown out my brains twenty times over rather than see what I
+see--and dread what I do."
+
+"What do you dread, father?"
+
+"Since the last few days, I do not know what has come over the
+marshal--but he frightens me."
+
+"Yet in his last interviews with Mdlle. de Cardoville--"
+
+"Yes, he was a little better. By her kind words, this generous young
+lady poured balm into his wounds; the presence of the young Indian
+cheered him; he appeared to shake off his cares, and his poor little
+girls felt the benefit of the change. But for some days, I know not what
+demon has been loosed against his family. It is enough to turn one's
+head. First of all, I am sure that the anonymous letters have begun
+again."
+
+"What letters, father?"
+
+"The anonymous letters."
+
+"But what are they about?"
+
+"You know how the marshal hated that renegade, the Abbe d'Aigrigny. When
+he found that the traitor was here, and that he had persecuted the two
+orphans, even as he persecuted their mother to the death--but that now
+he had become a priest--I thought the marshal would have gone mad with
+indignation and fury. He wishes to go in search of the renegade. With
+one word I calmed him. 'He is a priest,' I said; 'you may do what you
+will, insult or strike him--he will not fight. He began by serving
+against his country, he ends by becoming a bad priest. It is all in
+character. He is not worth spitting upon.'--'But surely I may punish the
+wrong done to my children, and avenge the death of my wife,' cried the
+marshal, much exasperated.--'They say, as you well know, that there are
+courts of law to avenge your wrongs,' answered I; 'Mdlle. de Cardoville
+has lodged a charge against the renegade, for having attempted to
+confine your daughters in a convent. We must champ the bit and wait."'
+
+"Yes," said Agricola, mournfully, "and unfortunately there lacks proof
+to bring it home to the Abbe d'Aigrigny. The other day, when I was
+examined by Mdlle. de Cardoville's lawyer, with regard to our attempt
+on the convent, he told me that we should meet with obstacles at every
+step, for want of legal evidence, and that the priests had taken their
+precautions with so much skill that the indictment would be quashed."
+
+"That is just what the marshal thinks, my boy, and this increases his
+irritation at such injustice."
+
+"He should despise the wretches."
+
+"But the anonymous letters!"
+
+"Well, what of them, father?"
+
+"You shall know all. A brave and honorable man like the marshal, when
+his first movement of indignation was over, felt that to insult the
+renegade disguised in the garb of a priest, would be like insulting
+an old man or a woman. He determined therefore to despise him, and to
+forget him as soon as possible. But then, almost every day, there
+came by the post anonymous letters, in which all sorts of devices were
+employed, to revive and excite the anger of the marshal against
+the renegade by reminding him of all the evil contrived by the Abbe
+d'Aigrigny against him and his family. The marshal was reproached with
+cowardice for not taking vengeance on this priest, the persecutor of his
+wife and children, the insolent mocker at his misfortunes."
+
+"And from whom do you suspect these letters to come, father?"
+
+"I cannot tell--it is that which turns one's brain. They must come from
+the enemies of the marshal, and he has no enemies but the black-gowns."
+
+"But, father, since these letters are to excite his anger against the
+Abbe d'Aigrigny, they can hardly have been written by priests."
+
+"That is what I have said to myself."
+
+"But what, then, can be their object?"
+
+"Their object? oh, it is too plain!" cried Dagobert. "The marshal is
+hasty, ardent; he has a thousand reasons to desire vengeance on the
+renegade. But he cannot do himself justice, and the other sort of
+justice fails him. Then what does he do? He endeavors to forget, he
+forgets. But every day there comes to him an insolent letter, to provoke
+and exasperate his legitimate hatred, by mockeries and insults. Devil
+take me! my head is not the weakest--but, at such a game, I should go
+mad."
+
+"Father, such a plot would be horrible, and only worthy of hell!"
+
+"And that is not all."
+
+"What more?"
+
+"The marshal has received other letters; those he has not shown me--but,
+after he had read the first, he remained like a man struck motionless,
+and murmured to himself: 'They do not even respect that--oh! it is too
+much--too much!'--And, hiding his face in his hands he wept."
+
+"The marshal wept!" cried the blacksmith, hardly able to believe what he
+heard.
+
+"Yes," answered Dagobert, "he wept like a child."
+
+"And what could these letters contain, father?"
+
+"I did not venture to ask him, he appeared so miserable and dejected."
+
+"But thus harassed and tormented incessantly, the marshal must lead a
+wretched life."
+
+"And his poor little girls too! he sees them grow sadder and sadder,
+without being able to guess the cause. And the death of his father,
+killed almost in his arms! Perhaps, you will think all this enough; but,
+no! I am sure there is something still more painful behind. Lately, you
+would hardly know the marshal. He is irritable about nothing, and falls
+into such fits of passion, that--" After a moment's hesitation, the
+soldier resumed: "I way tell this to you, my poor boy. I have just been
+upstairs, to take the caps from his pistols."
+
+"What, father!" cried Agricola; "you fear--"
+
+"In the state of exasperation in which I saw him yesterday, there is
+everything to fear."
+
+"What then happened?"
+
+"Since some time, he has often long secret interviews with a gentleman,
+who looks like an old soldier and a worthy man. I have remarked that
+the gloom and agitation of the marshal are always redoubled after one of
+these visits. Two or three times, I have spoken to him about it; but I
+saw by his look, that I displeased him, and therefore I desisted.
+
+"Well! yesterday, this gentleman came in the evening. He remained here
+until eleven o'clock, and his wife came to fetch him, and waited for him
+in a coach. After his departure, I went up to see if the marshal wanted
+anything. He was very pale, but calm; he thanked me, and I came down
+again. You know that my room is just under his. I could hear the marshal
+walking about as if much agitated, and soon after he seemed to be
+knocking down the furniture. In alarm, I once more went upstairs. He
+asked me, with an irritated air, what I wanted, and ordered me to leave
+the room. Seeing him in that way, I remained; he grew more angry, still
+I remained; perceiving a chair and table thrown down, I pointed to them
+with so sad an air that he understood me. You know that he has the best
+heart in the world, so, taking me by the hand, he said to me: 'Forgive
+me for causing you this uneasiness, my good Dagobert; but just now, I
+lost my senses, and gave way to a burst of absurd fury; I think I should
+have thrown myself out of the window, had it been open. I only hope,
+that my poor dear girls have not heard me,' added he, as he went on
+tip-toe to open the door which communicates with his daughters' bedroom.
+When he had listened anxiously for a moment, he returned to me, and
+said: 'Luckily, they are asleep.'--Then I asked him what was the cause
+of his agitation, and if, in spite of my precautions, he had received
+any more anonymous letters. 'No,' replied he, with a gloomy air; 'but
+leave me, my friend. I am now better. It has done me good to see you.
+Good--night, old comrade! go downstairs to bed.'--I took care not to
+contradict him; but, pretending to go down, I came up again, and seated
+myself on the top stair, listening. No doubt, to calm himself entirely,
+the marshal went to embrace his children, for I heard him open and shut
+their door. Then he returned to his room, and walked about for a long
+time, but with a more quiet step. At last, I heard him throw himself on
+his bed, and I came down about break of day. After that, all remained
+tranquil."
+
+"But whatever can be the matter with him, father?"
+
+"I do not know. When I went up to him, I was astonished at the agitation
+of his countenance, and the brilliancy of his eyes. He would have looked
+much the same, had he been delirious, or in a burning fever--so that,
+when I heard him say, he could have thrown himself out of the window,
+had it been open, I thought it more prudent to remove the caps from his
+pistols."
+
+"I cannot understand it!" said Agricola. "So firm, intrepid, and cool a
+man as the marshal, a prey to such violence!"
+
+"I tell you that something very extraordinary is passing within him.
+For two days, he has not been to see his children, which is always a bad
+sign with him--to say nothing of the poor little angels themselves, who
+are miserable at the notion that they have displeased their father. They
+displease him! If you only knew the life they lead, dear creatures! a
+walk or ride with me and their companion, for I never let them go
+out alone, and, the rest of their time, at their studies, reading, or
+needlework--always together--and then to bed. Yet their duenna, who is,
+I think, a worthy woman, tells me that sometimes at night, she has seen
+them shed tears in their sleep. Poor children! they have hitherto known
+but little happiness," added the soldier, with a sigh.
+
+At this moment, hearing some one walk hastily across the courtyard,
+Dagobert raised his eyes, and saw Marshal Simon, with pale face and
+bewildered air, holding in his two hands a letter, which he seemed to
+read with devouring anxiety.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII. THE GOLDEN CITY.
+
+While Marshal Simon was crossing the little court with so agitated
+an air, reading the anonymous letter, which he had received by
+Spoil-sport's unexpected medium, Rose and Blanche were alone together,
+in the sitting room they usually occupied, which had been entered for a
+moment by Loony during their absence. The poor children seemed destined
+to a succession of sorrows. At the moment their mourning for their
+mother drew near its close, the tragical death of their grandfather had
+again dressed them in funereal weeds. They were seated together upon a
+couch, in front of their work-table. Grief often produces the effect of
+years. Hence, in a few months, Rose and Blanche had become quite young
+women. To the infantine grace of their charming faces, formerly so plump
+and rosy, but now pale and thin, had succeeded an expression of grave
+and touching sadness. Their large, mild eyes of limpid azure, which
+always had a dreamy character, were now never bathed in those joyous
+tears, with which a burst of frank and hearty laughter used of old to
+adorn their silky lashes, when the comic coolness of Dagobert, or some
+funny trick of Spoil-sport, cheered them in the course of their long and
+weary pilgrimage.
+
+In a word, those delightful faces, which the flowery pencil of Greuze
+could alone have painted in all their velvet freshness, were now worthy
+of inspiring the melancholy ideal of the immortal Ary Scheffer, who gave
+us Mignon aspiring to Paradise, and Margaret dreaming of Faust. Rose,
+leaning back on the couch, held her head somewhat bowed upon her
+bosom, over which was crossed a handkerchief of black crape. The light
+streaming from a window opposite, shone softly on her pure, white
+forehead, crowned by two thick bands of chestnut hair. Her look was
+fixed, and the open arch of her eyebrows, now somewhat contracted,
+announced a mind occupied with painful thoughts. Her thin, white little
+hands had fallen upon her knees, but still held the embroidery, on which
+she had been engaged. The profile of Blanche was visible, leaning a
+little towards her sister, with an expression of tender and anxious
+solicitude, whilst her needle remained in the canvas, as if she had just
+ceased to work.
+
+"Sister," said Blanche, in a low voice, after some moments of silence,
+during which the tears seemed to mount to her eyes, "tell me what you
+are thinking of. You look so sad."
+
+"I think of the Golden City of our dreams," replied Rose, almost in a
+whisper, after another short silence.
+
+Blanche understood the bitterness of these words. Without speaking, she
+threw herself on her sister's neck, and wept. Poor girls! the Golden
+City of their dreams was Paris, with their father in it--Paris, the
+marvellous city of joys and festivals, through all of which the orphans
+had beheld the radiant and smiling countenance of their sire! But, alas!
+the Beautiful City had been changed into a place of tears, and death,
+and mourning. The same terrible pestilence which had struck down their
+mother in the heart of Siberia, seemed to have followed them like a dark
+and fatal cloud, which, always hovering above them, hid the mild blue of
+the sky, and the joyous light of the sun.
+
+The Golden City of their dreams! It was the place, where perhaps one day
+their father would present to them two young lovers, good and fair as
+themselves. "They love you," he was to say; "they are worthy of you.
+Let each of you have a brother, and me two sons." Then what chaste,
+enchanting confusion for those two orphans, whose hearts, pure as
+crystal, had never reflected any image but that of Gabriel, the
+celestial messenger sent by their mother to protect them!
+
+We can therefore understand the painful emotion of Blanche, when she
+heard her sister repeat, with bitter melancholy, those words which
+described their whole situation: "I think of the Golden City of our
+dreams!"
+
+"Who knows?" proceeded Blanche, drying her sister's tears; "perhaps,
+happiness may yet be in store for us."
+
+"Alas! if we are not happy with our father by us--shall we ever be so?"
+
+"Yes, when we rejoin our mother," said Blanche, lifting her eyes to
+heaven.
+
+"Then, sister, this dream may be a warning--it is so like that we had in
+Germany."
+
+"The difference being that then the Angel Gabriel came down from heaven
+to us, and that this time he takes us from earth, to our mother."
+
+"And this dream will perhaps come true, like the other, my sister. We
+dreamt that the Angel Gabriel would protect us, and he came to save us
+from the shipwreck."
+
+"And, this time, we dream that he will lead us to heaven. Why should not
+that happen also?"
+
+"But to bring that about, sister, our Gabriel, who saved us from the
+shipwreck, must die also. No, no; that must not happen. Let us pray that
+it may not happen."
+
+"No, it will not happen--for it is only Gabriel's good angel, who is so
+like him, that we saw in our dreams."
+
+"Sister, dear, how singular is this dream!--Here, as in Germany, we have
+both dreamt the same--three times, the very same!"
+
+"It is true. The Angel Gabriel bent over us, and looked at us with so
+mild and sad an air, saying: 'Come, my children! come, my sisters! Your
+mother waits for you. Poor children, arrived from so far!' added he in
+his tender voice: 'You have passed over the earth, gentle and innocent
+as two doves, to repose forever in the maternal nest.'"
+
+"Yes, those were the words of the archangel," said the other orphan,
+with a pensive air; "we have done no harm to any one, and we have loved
+those who loved us--why should we fear to die?"
+
+"Therefore, dear sister, we rather smiled than wept, when he took us
+by the hand, and, spreading wide his beautiful white wings, carried us
+along with him to the blue depths of the sky."
+
+"To heaven, where our dear mother waited for us with open arms, her face
+all bathed in tears."
+
+"Oh, sweet sister! one has not dreams like ours for nothing. And then,"
+added she, looking at Rose, with a sad smile that went to the heart,
+"our death might perhaps end the sorrow, of which we have been the
+cause."
+
+"Alas! it is not our fault. We love him so much. But we are so timid and
+sorrowful before him, that he may perhaps think we love him not."
+
+So saying, Rose took her handkerchief from her workbasket, to dry her
+fears; a paper, folded in the form of a letter, fell out.
+
+At this sight, the two shuddered, and pressed close to one mother,
+and Rose said to Blanche, in a trembling voice: "Another of these
+letters!--Oh, I am afraid! It will doubtless be like the last."
+
+"We must pick it up quickly, that it may not be seen," said Blanche,
+hastily stooping to seize the letter; "the people who take interest in
+us might otherwise be exposed to great danger."
+
+"But how could this letter come to us?"
+
+"How did the others come to be placed right under our hand, and always
+in the absence of our duenna?"
+
+"It is true. Why seek to explain the mystery? We should never be able to
+do so. Let us read the letter. It will perhaps be more favorable to us
+than the last." And the two sisters read as follows:-"Continue to love
+your father, dear children, for he is very miserable, and you are the
+involuntary cause of his distress. You will never know the terrible
+sacrifices that your presence imposes on him; but, alas! he is the
+victim of his paternal duties. His sufferings are more cruel than ever;
+spare him at least those marks of tenderness, which occasion him so much
+more pain than pleasure. Each caress is a dagger-stroke, for he sees in
+you the innocent cause of his misfortunes. Dear children, you must not
+therefore despair. If you have enough command over yourselves, not to
+torture him by the display of too warm a tenderness, if you can mingle
+some reserve with your affection, you will greatly alleviate his sorrow.
+Keep these letters a secret from every one, even from good Dagobert,
+who loves you so much; otherwise, both he and you, your father, and
+the unknown friend who is writing to you, will be exposed to the utmost
+peril, for your enemies are indeed formidable. Courage and hope! May
+your father's tenderness be once more free from sorrow and regret!--That
+happy day is perhaps not so far distant. Burn this letter like all the
+others!"
+
+The above note was written with so much cunning that, even supposing the
+orphans had communicated it to their father or Dagobert, it would at the
+worst have been considered a strange, intrusive proceeding, but almost
+excusable from the spirit in which it was conceived. Nothing could
+have been contrived with more perfidious art, if we consider the cruel
+perplexity in which Marshal Simon was struggling between the fear
+of again leaving his children and the shame of neglecting what he
+considered a sacred duty. All the tenderness, all the susceptibility
+of heart which distinguished the orphans, had been called into play by
+these diabolical counsels, and the sisters soon perceived that their
+presence was in fact both sweet and painful to their father; for
+sometimes he felt himself incapable of leaving them, and sometimes the
+thought of a neglected duty spread a cloud of sadness over his brow.
+Hence the poor twins could not fail to value the fatal meaning of the
+anonymous letters they received. They were persuaded that, from some
+mysterious motive, which they were unable to penetrate, their presence
+was often importunate and even painful to their father. Hence the
+growing sadness of Rose and Blanche--hence the sort of fear and reserve
+which restrained the expression of their filial tenderness. A most
+painful situation for the marshal, who deceived by inexplicable
+appearances, mistook, in his turn, their manner of indifference to
+him--and so, with breaking heart, and bitter grief upon his face, often
+abruptly quitted his children to conceal his tears!
+
+And the desponding orphans said to each other: "We are the cause of our
+father's grief. It is our presence which makes him so unhappy."
+
+The reader may new judge what ravages such a thought, when fixed and
+incessant, must have made on these young, loving, timid, and simple
+hearts. Haw could the orphans be on their guard against such anonymous
+communications, which spoke with reverence of all they loved, and seemed
+every day justified by the conduct of their father? Already victims of
+numerous plots, and hearing that they were surrounded by enemies, we
+can understand, how faithful to the advice of their unknown friend, they
+forbore to confide to Dagobert these letters, in which he was so justly
+appreciated. The object of the proceeding was very plain. By continually
+harassing the marshal on all sides, and persuading him of the coldness
+of his children, the conspirators might naturally hope to conquer the
+hesitation which had hitherto prevented his again quitting his daughters
+to embark in a dangerous enterprise. To render the marshal's life so
+burdensome that he would desire to seek relief from his torments in airy
+project of daring and generous chivalry, was one of the ends proposed by
+Rodin--and, as we have seen, it wanted neither logic nor possibility.
+
+After having read the letter, the two remained for a moment silent
+and dejected. Then Rose, who held the paper in her hand, started up
+suddenly, approached the chimneypiece, and threw the letter into the
+fire, saying, with a timid air: "We must burn it quickly, or perhaps
+some great danger will ensue."
+
+"What greater misfortune can happen to us," said Blanche, despondingly,
+"than to cause such sorrow to our father? What can be the reason of it?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Rose, whose tears were slowly trickling down her cheek,
+"he does not find us what he could have desired. He may love us well
+as the children of our poor mother, but we are not the daughters he had
+dreamed of. Do you understand me, sister?"
+
+"Yes, yes--that is perhaps what occasioned all his sorrow. We are so
+badly informed, so wild, so awkward, that he is no doubt ashamed of us;
+and, as he loves us in spite of all, it makes him suffer."
+
+"Alas! it is not our fault. Our dear mother brought us up in the deserts
+of Siberia as well as she could."
+
+"Oh! father himself does not reproach us with it; only it gives him
+pain."
+
+"Particularly if he has friends whose daughters are very beautiful, and
+possessed of all sorts of talents. Then he must bitterly regret that we
+are not the same."
+
+"Dost remember when he took us to see our cousin, Mdlle. Adrienne, who
+was so affectionate and kind to us, that he said to us, with admiration:
+'Did you notice her, my children? How beautiful she is, and what talent,
+what a noble heart, and therewith such grace and elegance!'"
+
+"Oh, it is very true! Mdlle. de Cardoville is so beautiful, her voice
+is so sweet and gentle, that, when we saw and heard her, we fancied that
+all our troubles were at an end."
+
+"And it is because of such beauty, no doubt, that our father, comparing
+us with our cousin and so many other handsome young ladies, cannot be
+very proud of us. And he, who is so loved and honored, would have liked
+to have been proud of his daughters."
+
+Suddenly Rose laid her hand on her sister's arm, and said to her,
+with anxiety: "Listen! listen! they are talking very loud in father's
+bedroom."
+
+"Yes," said Blanche, listening in her turn; "and I can hear him walking.
+That is his step."
+
+"Good heaven! how he raises his voice; he seems to be in a great
+passion; he will perhaps come this way."
+
+And at the thought of their father's coming--that father who really
+adored them--the unhappy children looked in terror at each other. The
+sound of a loud and angry voice became more and more distinct; and Rose,
+trembling through all her frame, said to her sister: "Do not let us
+remain here! Come into our room."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"We should hear, without designing it, the words of our father--and he
+does not perhaps know that we are so near."
+
+"You are right. Come, come!" answered Blanche, as she rose hastily from
+her seat.
+
+"Oh! I am afraid. I have never heard him speak in so angry a tone."
+
+"Oh! kind heaven!" said Blanche, growing pale, as she stopped
+involuntarily. "It is to Dagobert that he is talking so loud."
+
+"What can be the matter--to make our father speak to him in that way?"
+
+"Alas! some great misfortune must have happened."
+
+"Oh, sister! do not let us remain here! It pains me too much to hear
+Dagobert thus spoken to."
+
+The crash of some article, hurled with violence and broken to pieces in
+the next room, so frightened the orphans, that, pale and trembling with
+emotion, they rushed into their own apartment, and fastened the door. We
+must now explain the cause of Marshal Simon's violent anger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII. THE STUNG LION.
+
+This was the scene, the sound of which had so terrified Rose and
+Blanche. At first alone in his chamber, in a state of exasperation
+difficult to describe, Marshal Simon had begun to walk hastily up and
+down, his handsome, manly face inflamed with rage, his eyes sparkling
+with indignation, while on his broad forehead, crowned with short-cut
+hair that was now turning gray, large veins, of which you might count
+the pulsations, were swollen almost to bursting; and sometimes his
+thick, black moustache was curled with a convulsive motion, not unlike
+that which is seen in the visage of a raging lion. And even as the
+wounded lion, in its fury, harassed and tortured by a thousand invisible
+darts, walks up and down its den with savage wrath, so Marshal Simon
+paced the floor of his room, as if bounding from side to side;
+sometimes he stooped, as though bending beneath the weight of his anger;
+sometimes, on the contrary, he paused abruptly, drew himself up to his
+full height, crossed his arms upon his vigorous chest, and with raised
+brow, threatening and terrible look, seemed to defy some invisible
+enemy, and murmur confused exclamations. Then he stood like a man of war
+and battle in all his intrepid fire.
+
+And now he stamped angrily with his foot, approached the chimney-piece,
+and pulled the bell so violently that the bell-rope remained in his
+hand. A servant hastened to attend to this precipitate summons. "Did you
+not tell Dagobert that I wished to speak to him?" cried the marshal.
+
+"I executed your grace's orders, but M. Dagobert was accompanying his
+son to the door, and--"
+
+"Very well!" interrupted Marshal Simon, with an abrupt and imperious
+gesture.
+
+The servant went out, and his master continued to walk up and down with
+impatient steps, crumpling, in his rage, a letter that he held in his
+left hand. This letter had been innocently delivered by Spoil-sport,
+who, seeing him come in, had run joyously to meet him. At length the
+door opened, and Dagobert appeared. "I have been waiting for you a long
+time, sirrah!" cried the marshal, in an irritated tone.
+
+Dagobert, more pained than surprised at this burst of anger, which he
+rightly attributed to the constant state of excitement in which the
+marshal had now been for some time past, answered mildly: "I beg your
+pardon, general, but I was letting out my son--"
+
+"Read that, sir!" said the marshal abruptly, giving him the letter.
+
+While Dagobert was reading it, the marshal resumed, with growing anger,
+as he kicked over a chair that stood in his way: "Thus, even in my
+own house, there are wretches bribed to harass me with incredible
+perseverance. Well! have you read it, sir?"
+
+"It is a fresh insult to add to the others," said Dagobert, coolly, as
+he threw the letter into the fire.
+
+"The letter is infamous--but it speaks the truth," replied the marshal.
+Dagobert looked at him in amazement.
+
+"And can you tell who brought me this infamous letter" continued the
+marshal. "One would think the devil had a hand in it--for it was your
+dog!"
+
+"Spoil-sport?" said Dagobert, in the utmost surprise.
+
+"Yes," answered the marshal, bitterly; "it is no doubt a joke of your
+invention."
+
+"I have no heart for joking, general," answered Dagobert, more and more
+saddened by the irritable state of the marshal; "I cannot explain how it
+happened. Spoil-sport is a good carrier, and no doubt found the letter
+in the house--"
+
+"And who can have left it there? Am I surrounded by traitors? Do you
+keep no watch? You, in whom I have every confidence?"
+
+"Listen to me, general--"
+
+But the marshal proceeded, without waiting to hear him. "What! I have
+made war for five-and-twenty years, I have battled with armies, I have
+struggled victoriously through the evil times of exile and proscription,
+I have withstood blows from maces of iron--and now I am to be killed
+with pins! Pursued into my own house, harassed with impunity, worn out,
+tortured every minute, to gratify some unknown, miserable hate!--When I
+say unknown, I am wrong--it is d'Aigrigny, the renegade, who is at the
+bottom of all this, I am sure. I have in the world but one enemy, and
+he is the man. I must finish with him, for I am weary of this--it is too
+much."
+
+"But, general, remember he is a priest--"
+
+"What do I care for that? Have I not seen him handle the sword? I will
+yet make a soldier's blood rise to the forehead of the traitor!"
+
+"But, general--"
+
+"I tell you, that I must be avenged on some one," cried the marshal,
+with an accent of the most violent exasperation; "I tell you, that I
+mast find a living representative of these cowardly plots, that I may at
+once make an end of him!--They press upon me from all sides; they make
+my life a hell--you know it--and you do nothing to save me from these
+tortures, which are killing me as by a slow fire. Can I have no one in
+whom to trust?"
+
+"General, I can't let you say that," replied Dagobert, in a calm, but
+firm voice.
+
+"And why not?"
+
+"General, I can't let you say that you have no one to trust to. You
+might end perhaps in believing it, and then it would be even worse for
+yourself, than for those who well know their devotion for you, and would
+go through fire and water to serve you. I am one of them--and you know
+it."
+
+These simple words, pronounced by Dagobert with a tone of deep
+conviction, recalled the marshal to himself; for although his honorable
+and generous character might from time to time be embittered by
+irritation and grief, he soon recovered his natural equanimity. So,
+addressing Dagobert in a less abrupt tone, he said to him, though still
+much agitated: "You are right. I could never doubt your fidelity. But
+anger deprives me of my senses. This infamous letter is enough to drive
+one mad. I am unjust, ungrateful--yes, ungrateful--and to you!"
+
+"Do not think of me, general. With a kind word at the end, you might
+blow me up all the year round. But what has happened?"
+
+The general's countenance again darkened, as he answered rapidly: "I am
+looked down upon, and despised!"
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes I. After all," resumed the marshal bitterly, "why should I conceal
+from you this new wound? If I doubted you a moment, I owe you some
+compensation, and you shall know all. For some time past, I perceived
+that, when I meet any of my old companions in arms, they try to avoid
+me--"
+
+"What! was it to this that the anonymous letter alluded?"
+
+"Yes; and it spoke the truth," replied the marshal, with a sigh of grief
+and indignation.
+
+"But it is impossible, general--you are so loved and respected--"
+
+"Those are mere words; I speak of positive facts. When I appear, the
+conversation is often interrupted. Instead of treating me as an old
+comrade, they affect towards me a rigorously cold politeness. There are
+a thousand little shades, a thousand trifles, which wound the heart, but
+which it is impossible to notice--"
+
+"What you are now saying, general, quite confounds me," replied
+Dagobert. "You assure me of it, and I am forced to believe you."
+
+"Oh, it is intolerable! I was resolved to ease my heart of it; so, this
+morning, I went to General d'Havrincourt, who was colonel with me in the
+Imperial Guard; he is honor and honesty itself. I went to him with
+open heart. 'I perceive,' said I, 'the coldness that is shown me. Some
+calumny must be circulating to my disadvantage. Tell me all about it.
+Knowing the attack, I shall be able to defend myself--'
+
+"Well, general?"
+
+"D'Havrincourt remained impassible ceremoniously polite. To all my
+questions he answered coldly: 'I am not aware, my lord duke, that any
+calumny has been circulated with regard to you.'--'Do not call me
+"my lord duke," my dear D'Havrincourt; we are old fellow-soldiers and
+friends, my honor is somewhat touchy, I confess, and I find that you and
+our comrades do not receive me so cordially, as in times past. You
+do not deny it; I see, I know, I feel it.' To all this D'Havrincourt
+answered, with the same coldness: 'I have never seen any one wanting in
+respect towards you.'--'I am not talking of respect,' exclaimed I, as
+I clasped his hand affectionately, though I observed that he but feebly
+returned the pressure; 'I speak of cordiality, confidence, which I once
+enjoyed, while now I am treated like a stranger. Why is it? What has
+occasioned this change?'--Still cold and reserved, he answered: 'These
+distinctions are so nice, marshal, that it is impossible for me to give
+you any opinion on the subject.'--My heart swelled with grief and anger.
+What was I to do? To quarrel with D'Havrincourt would have been absurd.
+A sense of dignity forced me to break off the interview, but it has
+only confirmed my fears. Thus," added the marshal, getting more and more
+animated, "thus am I fallen from the esteem to which I am entitled, thus
+am I despised, without even knowing the cause! Is it not odious? If
+they would only utter a charge against me--I should at least be able to
+defend myself, and to find an answer. But no, no! not even a word--only
+the cold politeness that is worse than any insult. Oh! it is too much,
+too much! for all this comes but in addition to other cares. What a
+life is mine since the death of my father! If I did but find rest and
+happiness at home--but no! I come in, but to read shameful letters; and
+still worse," added the marshal, in a heartrending tone, and after a
+moment's hesitation, "to find my children grow more and more indifferent
+towards me--"Yes," continued he, perceiving the amazement of Dagobert,
+"and yet they know how much I love them!"
+
+"Your daughters indifferent!" exclaimed Dagobert, in astonishment. "You
+make them such a reproach?"
+
+"Oh! I do not blame them. They have hardly had time to know me."
+
+"Not had time to know you?" returned the soldier, in a tone of
+remonstrance, and warming up in his turn. "Ah! of what did their mother
+talk to them, except you? and I too! what could I teach your children
+except to know and love you?"
+
+"You take their part--that is natural--they love you better than they do
+me," said the marshal, with growing bitterness. Dagobert felt himself so
+painfully affected, that he looked at the marshal without answering.
+
+"Yes!" continued the other; "yes! it may be base and ungrateful--but no
+matter!--Twenty times I have felt jealous of the affectionate confidence
+which my children display towards you, while with me they seem always to
+be in fear. If their melancholy faces ever grow animated for a moment,
+it is in talking to you, in seeing you; while for me they have nothing
+but cold respect--and that kills me. Sure of the affection of my
+children, I would have braved and surmounted every difficulty--" Then,
+seeing that Dagobert rushed towards the door which led to the chamber of
+Rose and Blanche, the marshal asked: "Where are you going?"
+
+"For your daughters, general."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To bring them face to face with you--to tell them: 'My children, your
+father thinks that you do not love him.'--I will only say that--and then
+you will see."
+
+"Dagobert! I forbid you to do it," cried the marshal, hastily.
+
+"I don't care for that--you have no right to be unjust to the poor
+children," said the soldier, as he again advanced towards the door.
+
+"Dagobert, I command you to remain here," cried the marshal.
+
+"Listen to me, general. I am your soldier, your inferior, your servant,
+if you will," said the old grenadier, roughly; "but neither rank nor
+station shall keep me silent, when I have to defend your daughters.
+All must be explained--I know but one way--and that is to bring honest
+people face to face."
+
+If the marshal had not seized him by the arm, Dagobert would have
+entered the apartment of the young girls.
+
+"Remain!" said the marshal, so imperiously that the soldier, accustomed
+to obedience, hung his head, and stood still.
+
+"What would you do?" resumed the marshal. "Tell my children, that I
+think they do not love me? induce them to affect a tenderness they do
+not feel--when it is not their fault, but mine?"
+
+"Oh, general!" said Dagobert, in a tone of despair, "I no longer feel
+anger, in hearing you speak thus of your children. It is such grief,
+that it breaks my heart!"
+
+Touched by the expression of the soldier's countenance, the marshal
+continued, less abruptly: "Come, I may be wrong; and yet I ask you,
+without bitterness or jealousy, are not my children more confiding, more
+familiar, with you than with me?"
+
+"God bless me, general!" cried Dagobert; "if you come to that, they are
+more familiar with Spoil-sport than with either of us. You are their
+father; and, however kind a father may be, he must always command some
+respect. Familiar with me! I should think so. A fine story! What the
+devil should they respect in me, who, except that I am six feet
+high, and wear a moustache, might pass for the old woman that nursed
+them?--and then I must say, that, even before the death of your worthy
+father, you were sad and full of thought; the children have remarked
+that; and what you take for coldness on their part, is, I am sure,
+anxiety for you. Come, general; you are not just. You complain, because
+they love you too much."
+
+"I complain, because I suffer," said the marshal, in an agony of
+excitement. "I alone know my sufferings."
+
+"They must indeed be grievous, general," said Dagobert, carried further
+than he would otherwise have gone by his attachment for the orphans,
+"since those who love you feel them so cruelly."
+
+"What, sir! more reproaches?"
+
+"Yes, general, reproaches," cried Dagobert. "Your children have the
+right to complain of you, since you accuse them so unjustly."
+
+"Sir," said the marshal, scarcely able to contain himself, "this is
+enough--this is too much!"
+
+"Oh, yes! it is enough," replied Dagobert, with rising emotion. "Why
+defend unfortunate children, who can only love and submit? Why defend
+them against your unhappy blindness?"
+
+The marshal started with anger and impatience, but then replied, with a
+forced calmness: "I needs must remember all that I owe you--and I will
+not forget it, say what you will."
+
+"But, general," cried Dagobert, "why will you not let me fetch your
+children?"
+
+"Do you not see that this scene is killing me?" cried the exasperated
+marshal. "Do you not understand, that I will not have my children
+witness what I suffer? A father's grief has its dignity, sir; and you
+ought to feel for and respect it."
+
+"Respect it? no--not when it is founded on injustice!"
+
+"Enough, sir--enough!"
+
+"And not content with tormenting yourself," cried Dagobert, unable any
+longer to control his feelings, "do you know what you will do? You will
+make your children die of sorrow. Was it for this, that I brought them
+to you from the depths of Siberia?"
+
+"More reproaches!"
+
+"Yes; for the worst ingratitude towards me, is to make your children
+unhappy."
+
+"Leave the room, sir!" cried the marshal, quite beside himself, and so
+terrible with rage and grief, that Dagobert, regretting that he had gone
+so far, resumed: "I was wrong, general. I have perhaps been wanting in
+respect to you--forgive me--but--"
+
+"I forgive you--only leave me!" said the marshal, hardly restraining
+himself.
+
+"One word, general--"
+
+"I entreat you to leave me--I ask it as a service--is that enough?"
+said the marshal, with renewed efforts to control the violence of his
+emotions.
+
+A deadly paleness succeeded to the high color which during this painful
+scene had inflamed the cheeks of the marshal. Alarmed at this symptom,
+Dagobert redoubled his entreaties. "I implore you, general," said he, in
+an agitated mice, "to permit me for one moment--"
+
+"Since you will have it so, sir, I must be the one to leave," said the
+marshal, making a step towards the door.
+
+These words were said in such a manner, that Dagobert could no longer
+resist. He hung his head in despair, looked for a moment in silent
+supplication at the marshal, and then, as the latter seemed yielding to
+a new movement of rage, the soldier slowly quitted the room.
+
+A few minutes had scarcely elapsed since the departure of Dagobert, when
+the marshal, who, after a long and gloomy silence, had repeatedly drawn
+near the door of his daughters' apartment with a mixture of hesitation
+and anguish, suddenly made a violent effort, wiped the cold sweat from
+his brow, and entered the chamber in which Rose and Blanche had taken
+refuge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX. THE TEST.
+
+Dagobert was right in defending his children, as he paternally called
+Rose and Blanche, and yet the apprehensions of the marshal with regard
+to the coldness of his daughters, were unfortunately justified by
+appearances. As he had told his father, unable to explain the sad,
+and almost trembling embarrassment, which his daughters felt in his
+presence, he sought in vain for the cause of what he termed their
+indifference. Now reproaching himself bitterly for not concealing from
+them his grief at the death of their mother, he feared he might have
+given them to understand that they would be unable to console him; now
+supposing that he had not shown himself sufficiently tender, and that
+had chilled them with his military sternness; and now repeating with
+bitter regret, that, having always lived away from them, he must be
+always a stranger to them. In a word, the most unlikely suppositions
+presented themselves by turns to his mind, and whenever such seeds of
+doubt, suspicion, or fear, are blended with a warm affection, they
+will sooner or later develop themselves with fatal effect. Yet,
+notwithstanding this fancied coldness, from which he suffered so much,
+the affection of the marshal for his daughters was so true and deep,
+that the thought of again quitting them caused the hesitations which
+were the torment of his life, and provoked an incessant struggle between
+his paternal love and the duty he held most sacred.
+
+The injurious calumnies, which had been so skillfully propagated, that
+men of honor, like his old brothers in arms, were found to attach
+some credit to them, had been spread with frightful pertinacity by the
+friends of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. We shall describe hereafter the
+meaning and object of these odious reports, which, joined with so
+many other fatal injuries, had filled up the measure of the marshal's
+indignation. Inflamed with anger, excited almost to madness by this
+incessant "stabbing with pins" (as he had himself called it), and
+offended at some of Dagobert's words, he had spoken harshly to him.
+But, after the soldier's departure, when left to reflect in silence, the
+marshal remembered the warm and earnest expressions of the defender
+of his children, and doubt crossed his mind, as to the reality of the
+coldness of which he accused them. Therefore, having taken a terrible
+resolution in case a new trial should confirm his desponding doubts, he
+entered, as we before said, his, daughters' chamber. The discussion with
+Dagobert had been so loud, that the sound of the voices had confusedly
+reached the ears of the two sisters, even after they had taken refuge in
+their bedroom. So that, on the arrival of their father, their pale
+faces betrayed their fear and anxiety. At sight of the marshal, whose
+countenance was also much agitated, the girls rose respectfully, but
+remained close together, trembling in each other's arms. And yet there
+was neither anger nor severity on their father's face--only a deep,
+almost supplicating grief, which seemed to say: "My children, I
+suffer--I have come to you--console me, love me! or I shall die!"
+
+The marshal's countenance was at this moment so expressive, that, the
+first impulse of fear once surmounted, the sisters were about to throw
+themselves into his arms; but remembering the recommendations of the
+anonymous letter, which told them how painful any effusion of their
+tenderness was to their father, they exchanged a rapid glance, and
+remained motionless. By a cruel fatality, the marshal at this moment
+burned to open his arms to his children. He looked at them with love, he
+even made a slight movement as if to call them to him; but he would
+not attempt more, for fear of meeting with no response. Still the poor
+children, paralyzed by perfidious counsels, remained mute, motionless,
+trembling!
+
+"It is all over," thought he, as he gazed upon them. "No chord of
+sympathy stirs in their bosom. Whether I go---whether I remain--matters
+not to them. No, I am nothing to these children--since, at this awful
+moment, when they see me perhaps for the last time, no filial instinct
+tells them that their affection might save me still!"
+
+During these terrible reflections, the marshal had not taken his eyes
+off his children, and his manly countenance assumed an expression
+at once so touching and mournful--his look revealed so painfully the
+tortures of his despairing soul--that Rose and Blanche, confused,
+alarmed, but yielding together to a spontaneous movement, threw
+themselves on their father's neck, and covered him with tears and
+caresses. Marshal Simon had not spoken a word; his daughters had not
+uttered a sound; and yet all three had at length understood one another.
+A sympathetic shock had electrified and mingled those three hearts. Vain
+fears, false doubts, lying counsel, all had yielded to the irresistible
+emotion which had brought the daughters to their father's arms. A sudden
+revelation gave them faith, at the fatal moment when incurable suspicion
+was about to separate them forever.
+
+In a second, the marshal felt all this, but words failed him. Pale,
+bewildered, kissing the brows, the hair, the hands of his daughters,
+weeping, sighing, smiling all in turn, he was wild, delirious, drunk
+with happiness. At length, he exclaimed: "I have found them--or rather,
+I have never lost them. They loved me, and did not dare to tell me so.
+I overawed them. And I thought it was my fault. Heavens! what good that
+does! what strength, what heart, what hope!--Ha! ha!" cried he, laughing
+and weeping at the same time, whilst he covered his children with
+caresses; "they may despise me now, they may harass me now--I defy them
+all. My own blue eyes! my sweet blue eyes! look at me well, and inspire
+me with new life."
+
+"Oh, father! you love us then as much as we love you?" cried Rose, with
+enchanting simplicity.
+
+"And we may often, very often, perhaps every day, throw ourselves on
+your neck, embrace you, and prove how glad we are to be with you?"
+
+"Show you, dear father, all the store of love we were heaping up in our
+hearts--so sad, alas! that we could not spend it upon you?"
+
+"Tell you aloud all that we think in secret?"
+
+"Yes--you may do so--you may do so," said Marshal Simon, faltering with
+joy; "what prevented you, my children? But no; do not answer; enough of
+the past!--I know all, I understand all. You misinterpreted my gloom,
+and it made you sad; I, in my turn, misinterpreted your sadness. But
+never mind; I scarcely know what I am saying to you. I only think of
+looking at you--and it dazzles me--it confuses me--it is the dizziness
+of joy!"
+
+"Oh, look at us, father! look into our eyes, into our hearts," cried
+Rose, with rapture.
+
+"And you will read there, happiness for us, and love for you, sir!"
+added Blanche.
+
+"Sir, sir!" said the marshal, in a tone of affectionate reproach; "what
+does that mean? Will you call me father, if you please?"
+
+"Dear father, your hand!" said Blanche, as she took it, and placed it on
+her heart.
+
+"Dear father, your hand!" said Rose, as she took the other hand of the
+marshal. "Do you believe now in our love and happiness?" she continued.
+
+It is impossible to describe the charming expression of filial pride in
+the divine faces of the girls, as their father, slightly pressing their
+virgin bosoms, seemed to count with delight the joyous pulsations of
+their hearts.
+
+"Oh, yes! happiness and affection can alone make the heart beat thus!"
+cried the marshal.
+
+A hoarse sob, heard in the direction of the open door, made the three
+turn round, and there they saw the tall figure of Dagobert, with the
+black nose of Spoil-sport reaching to his master's knee. The soldier,
+drying his eyes and moustache with his little blue cotton handkerchief,
+remained motionless as the god Terminus. When he could speak, he
+addressed himself to the marshal, and, shaking his head, muttered, in a
+hoarse voice, for the good man was swallowing his tears: "Did I not tell
+you so?"
+
+"Silence!" said the marshal, with a sign of intelligence. "You were a
+better father than myself, my old friend. Come and kiss them! I shall
+not be jealous."
+
+The marshal stretched out his hand to the soldier, who pressed it
+cordially, whilst the two sisters threw themselves on his neck, and
+Spoil-sport, according to custom wishing to have his share in the
+general joy, raised himself on his hind legs, and rested his fore-paws
+against his master's back. There was a moment of profound silence.
+The celestial felicity enjoyed during that moment, by the marshal,
+his daughters, and the soldier, was interrupted by the barking of
+Spoil-sort, who suddenly quitted the attitude of a biped. The happy
+group separated, looked round, and saw Loony's stupid face. He looked
+even duller than usual, as he stood quite still in the doorway, staring
+with wide stretched eyes, and holding a feather-broom under his arm, and
+in his hand the ever-present basket of wood.
+
+Nothing makes one so gay as happiness; and, though this grotesque figure
+appeared at a very unseasonable moment, it was received with frank
+laughter from the blooming lips of Rose and Blanche. Having made the
+marshal's daughters laugh, after their long sadness, Loony at once
+acquired a claim to the indulgence of the marshal, who said to him, good
+humoredly: "What do you want, my lad?"
+
+"It's not me, my lord duke!" answered Loony, laying his hand on his
+breast, as if it were taking a vow, so that his feather-brush fell down
+from under his arm. The laughter of the girls redoubled.
+
+"It is not you?" said the marshal.
+
+"Here! Spoil-sport!" Dagobert called, for the honest dog seemed to have
+a secret dislike for the pretended idiot, and approached him with an
+angry air.
+
+"No, my lord duke, it is not me!" resumed Loony. "It is the footman who
+told me to tell M. Dagobert, when I brought up the wood to tell my lord
+duke, as I was coming up with the basket, that M. Robert wants to see
+him."
+
+The girls laughed still more at this new stupidity. But, at the name of
+Robert, Marshal Simon started.
+
+M. Robert was the secret emissary of Rodin, with regard to the possible,
+but adventurous, enterprise of attempting the liberation of Napoleon II.
+After a moment's silence, the marshal, whose face was still radiant with
+joy and happiness, said to Loony: "Beg M. Robert to wait for me a moment
+in my study."
+
+"Yes, my lord duke," answered Loony, bowing almost to the ground.
+
+The simpleton withdrew, and the marshal said to his daughters, in a
+joyous tone, "You see, that, in a moment like this, one does not leave
+one's children, even for M. Robert."
+
+"Oh! that's right, father!" cried Blanche, gayly; "for I was already
+very angry with this M. Robert."
+
+"Have you pen and paper at hand?" asked the marshal.
+
+"Yes, father; there on the table," said Rose, hastily, as she pointed
+to a little desk near one of the windows, towards which the marshal now
+advanced rapidly.
+
+From motives of delicacy, the girls remained where they were, close to
+the fireplace, and caressed each other tenderly, as if to congratulate
+themselves in private on the unexpected happiness of this day.
+
+The marshal seated himself at the desk, and made a sign to Dagobert to
+draw near.
+
+While he wrote rapidly a few words in a firm hand, he said to the
+soldier with a smile, in so low a tone that it was impossible for his
+daughters to hear: "Do you know what I had almost resolved upon, before
+entering this room?"
+
+"What, general?"
+
+"To blow my brains out. It is to my children that I owe my life." And
+the marshal continued writing.
+
+Dagobert started at this communication, and then replied, also in a
+whisper: "It would not have been with your pistols. I took off the
+caps."
+
+The marshal turned round hastily, and looked at him with an air of
+surprise. But the soldier only nodded his head affirmatively, and added:
+"Thank heaven, we have now done with all those ideas!"
+
+The marshal's only answer was to glance at his children, his eyes
+swimming with tenderness, and sparkling with delight; then, sealing the
+note he had written, he gave it to the soldier, and said to him, "Give
+that to M. Robert. I will see him to-morrow."
+
+Dagobert took the letter, and went out. Returning towards his daughters,
+the marshal joyfully extended his arms to them, and said, "Now, young
+ladies, two nice kisses for having sacrificed M. Robert to you. Have
+I not earned them?" And Rose and Blanche threw themselves on their
+father's neck.
+
+About the time that these events were taking place at Paris, two
+travellers, wide apart from each other, exchanged mysterious thoughts
+through the breadth of space.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XI.
+
+     L. The Ruins of the Abbey of St. John the Baptist LI. The
+     Calvary LII. The Council LIII. Happiness LIV. Duty LV. The
+     Improvised Hospital LVI. Hydrophobia LVII. The Guardian
+     Angel LVIII. Ruin LIX. Memories LX. The Ordeal LXI. Ambition
+     LXII. To a Socius, a Socius and a Half LXIII. Faringhea's
+     Affection LXIV. An Evening at St. Colombe's LXV. The Nuptial
+     Bed LXVI. A Duel to the Death LXVII. A Message LXVIII. The
+     First of June
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE.
+
+     I. Four Years After II. The Redemption
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L. THE RUINS OF THE ABBEY OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
+
+The sun is fast sinking. In the depths of an immense piny wood, in the
+midst of profound solitude, rise the ruins of an abbey, once sacred to
+St. John the Baptist. Ivy, moss, and creeping plants, almost entirely
+conceal the stones, now black with age. Some broken arches, some
+walls pierced with ovals, still remain standing, visible on the dark
+background of the thick wood. Looking down upon this mass of ruins from
+a broken pedestal, half-covered with ivy, a mutilated, but colossal
+statue of stone still keeps its place. This statue is strange and awful.
+It represents a headless human figure. Clad in the antique toga, it
+holds in its hand a dish and on that dish is a head. This head is its
+own. It is the statue of St. John the Baptist and Martyr, put to death
+by wish of Herodias.
+
+The silence around is solemn. From time to time, however, is heard the
+dull rustling of the enormous branches of the pine-trees, shaken by the
+wind. Copper-colored clouds, reddened by the setting sun, pass slowly
+over the forest, and are reflected in the current of a brook, which,
+deriving its source from a neighboring mass of rocks, flows through the
+ruins. The water flows, the clouds pass on, the ancient trees tremble,
+the breeze murmurs.
+
+Suddenly, through the shadow thrown by the overhanging wood, which
+stretches far into endless depths, a human form appears. It is a woman.
+She advances slowly towards the ruins. She has reached them. She treads
+the once sacred ground. This woman is pale, her look sad, her long
+robe floats on the wind, her feet covered with dust. She walks with
+difficulty and pain. A block of stone is placed near the stream, almost
+at the foot of the statue of John the Baptist. Upon this stone she sinks
+breathless and exhausted, worn out with fatigue. And yet, for many days,
+many years, many centuries, she has walked on unwearied.
+
+For the first time, she feels an unconquerable sense of lassitude. For
+the first time, her feet begin to fail her. For the first time, she,
+who traversed, with firm and equal footsteps, the moving lava of torrid
+deserts, while whole caravans were buried in drifts of fiery sand--who
+passed, with steady and disdainful tread, over the eternal snows of
+Arctic regions, over icy solitudes, in which no other human being could
+live--who had been spared by the devouring flames of conflagrations, and
+by the impetuous waters of torrents--she, in brief, who for centuries
+had had nothing in common with humanity--for the first time suffers
+mortal pain.
+
+Her feet bleed, her limbs ache with fatigue, she is devoured by burning
+thirst. She feels these infirmities, yet scarcely dares to believe them
+real. Her joy would be too immense! But now, her throat becomes dry,
+contracted, all on fire. She sees the stream, and throws herself on her
+knees, to quench her thirst in that crystal current, transparent as
+a mirror. What happens then? Hardly have her fevered lips touched the
+fresh, pure water, than, still kneeling, supported on her hands, she
+suddenly ceases to drink, and gazes eagerly on the limpid stream.
+Forgetting the thirst which devours her, she utters a loud cry--a cry
+of deep, earnest, religious joy, like a note of praise and infinite
+gratitude to heaven. In that deep mirror, she perceives that she has
+grown older.
+
+In a few days, a few hours, a few minutes, perhaps in a single second,
+she has attained the maturity of age. She, who for more than eighteen
+centuries has been as a woman of twenty, carrying through successive
+generations the load of her imperishable youth--she has grown old, and
+may, perhaps, at length, hope to die. Every minute of her life may now
+bring her nearer to the last home! Transported by that ineffable hope,
+she rises, and lifts her eyes to heaven, clasping her hands in an
+attitude of fervent prayer. Then her eyes rest on the tall statue of
+stone, representing St. John. The head, which the martyr carries in his
+hand, seems, from beneath its half-closed granite eyelid, to cast upon
+the Wandering Jewess a glance of commiseration and pity. And it was she,
+Herodias who, in the cruel intoxication of a pagan festival, demanded
+the murder of the saint! And it is at the foot of the martyr's image,
+that, for the first time, the immortality, which weighed on her for so
+many centuries, seems likely to find a term!
+
+"Oh, impenetrable mystery! oh, divine hope!" she cries. "The wrath of
+heaven is at length appeased. The hand of the Lord brings me to the
+feet of the blessed martyr, and I begin once more to feel myself a
+human creature. And yet it was to avenge his death, that the same heaven
+condemned me to eternal wanderings!
+
+"Oh, Lord! grant that I may not be the only one forgiven. May
+he--the artisan, who like me, daughter of a king, wanders on for
+centuries--likewise hope to reach the end of that immense journey!
+
+"Where is he, Lord? where is he? Hast thou deprived me of the power once
+bestowed, to see and hear him through the vastness of intervening space?
+Oh, in this mighty moment, restore me that divine gift--for the more I
+feel these human infirmities, which I hail and bless as the end of
+my eternity of ills, the more my sight loses the power to traverse
+immensity, and my ear to catch the sound of that wanderer's accent, from
+the other extremity of the globe?"
+
+Night had fallen, dark and stormy. The wind rose in the midst of the
+great pine-trees. Behind their black summits, through masses of dark
+cloud, slowly sailed the silver disk of the moon. The invocation of the
+Wandering Jewess had perhaps been heard. Suddenly, her eyes closed--with
+hands clasped together, she remained kneeling in the heart of the
+ruins--motionless as a statue upon a tomb. And then she had a wondrous
+dream!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI. THE CALVARY.
+
+This was the vision of Herodias: On the summit of a high, steep, rocky
+mountain, there stands a cross. The sun is sinking, even as when the
+Jewess herself, worn out with fatigue, entered the ruins of St. John's
+Abbey. The great figure on the cross--which looks down from this
+Calvary, on the mountain, and on the vast, dreary plain beyond--stands
+out white and pale against the dark, blue clouds, which stretch across
+the heavens, and assume a violent tint towards the horizon. There, where
+the setting sun has left a long track of lurid light, almost of the
+hue of blood--as far as the eye can reach, no vegetation appears on the
+surface of the gloomy desert, covered with sand and stones, like the
+ancient bed of some dried-up ocean. A silence as of death broods over
+this desolate tract. Sometimes, gigantic black vultures, with red
+unfeathered necks, luminous yellow eyes, stooping from their lofty
+flight in the midst of these solitudes, come to make their bloody feast
+on the prey they have carried off from less uncultivated regions.
+
+How, then, did this Calvary, this place of prayer, come to be erected so
+far from the abodes of men? This Calvary was prepared at a great cost by
+a repentant sinner. He had done much harm to his fellow-creatures, and,
+in the hope of obtaining pardon for his crimes, he had climbed this
+mountain on his knees, and become a hermit, and lived there till his
+death, at the foot of this cross, only sheltered by a roof of thatch,
+now long since swept away by the wind. The sun is still sinking. The
+sky becomes darker. The luminous lines on the horizon grow fainter and
+fainter, like heated bars of iron that gradually grow cool. Suddenly,
+on the eastern side of the Calvary, is heard the noise of some falling
+stones, which, loosened from the side of the mountain, roll down
+rebounding to its base. These stones have been loosened by the foot of
+a traveller, who, after traversing the plain below, has, during the last
+hour, been climbing the steep ascent. He is not yet visible--but one
+hears the echo of his tread--slow, steady, and firm. At length, he
+reaches the top of the mountain, and his tall figure stands out against
+the stormy sky.
+
+The traveller is pale as the great figure on the cross. On his broad
+forehead a black line extends from one temple to the other. It is
+the cobbler of Jerusalem. The poor artisan, who hardened by misery,
+injustice and oppression, without pity for the suffering of the Divine
+Being who bore the cross, repulsed him from his dwelling, and bade him:
+"Go ON! GO ON! GO ON!" And, from that day, the avenging Deity has in his
+turn said to the artisan of Jerusalem: "GO ON! GO ON! GO ON!"
+
+And he has gone on, without end or rest. Nor did the divine vengeance
+stop there. From time to time death has followed the steps of the
+wanderer, and innumerable graves have been even as mile-stones on his
+fatal path. And if ever he found periods of repose in the midst of
+his infinite grief, it was when the hand of the Lord led him into deep
+solitudes, like that where he now dragged his steps along. In passing
+over that dreary plain, or climbing to that rude Calvary, he at least
+heard no more the funeral knell, which always, always sounded behind him
+in every inhabited region.
+
+All day long, even at this hour, plunged in the black abyss of his
+thoughts, following the fatal track--going whither he was guided by the
+invisible hand, with head bowed on his breast, and eyes fixed upon
+the ground, the wanderer had passed over the plain, and ascended the
+mountain, without once looking at the sky--without even perceiving the
+Calvary--without seeing the image upon the cross. He thought of the
+last descendants of his race. He felt, by the sinking of his heart,
+that great perils continued to threaten him. And in the bitterness of
+a despair, wild and deep as the ocean, the cobbler of Jerusalem seated
+himself at the foot of the cross. At this moment a farewell ray of the
+setting sun, piercing the dark mass of clouds, threw a refection upon
+the Calvary, vivid as a conflagration's glare. The Jew rested his
+forehead upon his hand. His long hair, shaken by the evening breeze,
+fell over his pale face--when sweeping it back from his brow, he started
+with surprise--he, who had long ceased to wonder at anything. With eager
+glance he contemplated the long lock of hair that he held between his
+fingers. That hair, until now black as night, had become gray. He also,
+like unto Herodias, was growing older.
+
+His progress towards old age, stopped for eighteen hundred years, had
+resumed its course. Like the Wandering Jewess, he might henceforth hope
+for the rest of the grave. Throwing himself on his knees, he stretched
+his hands towards heaven, to ask for the explanation of the mystery
+which filled him with hope. Then, for the first time, his eyes rested on
+the Crucified One, looking down upon the Calvary, even as the Wandering
+Jewess had fixed her gaze on the granite eyelids of the Blessed Martyr.
+
+The Saviour, his head bowed under the weight of his crown of thorns,
+seemed from the cross to view with pity, and pardon the artisan, who for
+so many centuries had felt his curse--and who, kneeling, with his body
+thrown backward in an attitude of fear and supplication, now lifted
+towards the crucifix his imploring hands.
+
+"Oh, Messiah!" cried the Jew, "the avenging arm of heaven brings me back
+to the foot of this heavy cross, which thou didst bear, when, stopping
+at the door of my poor dwelling, thou wert repulsed with merciless
+harshness, and I said unto thee: 'Go on! go on!'--After my long life of
+wanderings, I am again before this cross, and my hair begins to whiten.
+Oh Lord! in thy divine mercy, hast thou at length pardoned me? Have I
+reached the term of my endless march? Will thy celestial clemency grant
+me at length the repose of the sepulchre, which, until now, alas! has
+ever fled before me?--Oh! if thy mercy should descend upon me, let it
+fall likewise upon that woman, whose woes are equal to mine own! Protect
+also the last descendants of my race! What will be their fate? Already,
+Lord, one of them--the only one that misfortune had perverted--has
+perished from the face of the earth. Is it for this that my hair grows
+gray? Will my crime only be expiated when there no longer remains in
+this world one member of our accursed race? Or does this proof of thy
+powerful goodness, Lord, which restores me to the condition of humanity,
+serve also as a sign of the pardon and happiness of my family? Will
+they at length triumph over the perils which beset them? Will they,
+accomplishing the good which their ancestor designed for his fellow
+creatures, merit forgiveness both for themselves and me? Or will they,
+inexorably condemned as the accursed scions of an accursed stock,
+expiate the original stain of my detested crime?
+
+"Oh, tell me--tell me, gracious Lord! shall I be forgiven with them, or
+will they be punished with me?"
+
+The twilight gave place to a dark and stormy night, yet the Jew
+continued to pray, kneeling at the foot of the cross.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII. THE COUNCIL.
+
+The following scene took place at Saint-Dizier House, two days after
+the reconciliation of Marshal Simon with his daughters. The princess is
+listening with the most profound attention to the words of Rodin. The
+reverend father, according to his habit, stands leaning against the
+mantelpiece, with his hands thrust into the pockets of his old brown
+great-coat. His thick, dirty shoes have left their mark on the ermine
+hearth-rug. A deep sense of satisfaction is impressed on the Jesuit's
+cadaverous countenance. Princess de Saint-Dizier, dressed with that sort
+of modest elegance which becomes a mother of the church, keeps her
+eyes fixed on Rodin--for the latter has completely supplanted Father
+d'Aigrigny in the good graces of this pious lady. The coolness, audacity
+lofty intelligence, and rough and imperious character of the ex-socius
+have overawed this proud woman, and inspired her with a sincere
+admiration. Even his filthy habits and often brutal repartees have their
+charm for her, and she now prefers them to the exquisite politeness and
+perfumed elegance of the accomplished Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Yes, madame," said Rodin, in a sanctified tone, for these people do not
+take off their masks even with their accomplices, "yes, madame, we have
+excellent news from our house at St. Herem. M. Hardy, the infidel, the
+freethinker, has at length entered the pale of the holy Roman Catholic
+and Apostolic Church." Rodin pronounced these last word with a nasal
+twang, and the devout lady bowed her head respectfully.
+
+"Grace has at length touched the heart of this impious man," continued
+Rodin, "and so effectually that, in his ascetic enthusiasm, he has
+already wished to take the vows which will bind him forever to our
+divine Order."
+
+"So soon, father?" said the princess, in astonishment.
+
+"Our statutes are opposed to this precipitation, unless in the case of
+a penitent in articulo mortis--on the very gasp of death--should such
+a person consider it necessary for his salvation to die in the habit
+of our Order, and leave us all his wealth for the greater glory of the
+Lord."
+
+"And is M. Hardy in so dangerous a condition, father?"
+
+"He has a violent fever. After so many successive calamities, which
+have miraculously brought him into the path of salvation," said Rodin,
+piously, "his frail and delicate constitution is almost broken up,
+morally and physically. Austerities, macerations, and the divine joys of
+ecstasy, will probably hasten his passage to eternal life, and in a few
+clays," said the priest, shaking his head with a solemn air, "perhaps--"
+
+"So soon as that, father?"
+
+"It is almost certain. I have therefore made use of my dispensations, to
+receive the dear penitent, as in articulo mortis, a member of our
+divine Company, to which, in the usual course, he has made over all
+his possessions, present and to come--so that now he can devote himself
+entirely to the care of his soul, which will be one victim more rescued
+from the claws of Satan."
+
+"Oh, father!" cried the lady, in admiration; "it is a miraculous
+conversion. Father d'Aigrigny told me how you had to contend against the
+influence of Abbe Gabriel."
+
+"The Abbe Gabriel," replied Rodin, "has been punished for meddling with
+what did not concern him. I have procured his suspension, and he has
+been deprived of his curacy. I hear that he now goes about the cholera
+hospitals to administer Christian consolation; we cannot oppose
+that--but this universal comforter is of the true heretical stamp."
+
+"He is a dangerous character, no doubt," answered the princess, "for he
+has considerable influence over other men. It must have needed all your
+admirable and irresistible eloquence to combat the detestable counsels
+of this Abbe Gabriel, who had taken it into his head to persuade M.
+Hardy to return to the life of the world. Really, father, you are a
+second St. Chrysostom."
+
+"Tut, tut, madame!" said Rodin, abruptly, for he was very little
+sensible to flattery; "keep that for others."
+
+"I tell you that you're a second St. Chrysostom father," repeated the
+princess with enthusiasm; "like him, you deserve the name of Golden
+Mouth."
+
+"Stuff, madame!" said Rodin, brutally, shrugging his shoulders; "my lips
+are too pale, my teeth too black, for a mouth of gold. You must be only
+joking."
+
+"But, father--"
+
+"No, madame, you will not catch old birds with chaff," replied Rodin,
+harshly. "I hate compliments, and I never pay them."
+
+"Your modesty must pardon me, father," said the princess, humbly; "I
+could not resist the desire to express to you my admiration, for, as
+you almost predicted, or at least foresaw, two members of the Rennepont
+family, have, within the last few months, resigned all claim to the
+inheritance."
+
+Rodin looked at Madame de Saint-Dizier with a softened and approving
+air, as he heard her thus describe the position of the two defunct
+claimants. For, in Rodin's view of the case, M. Hardy, in consequence
+of his donation and his suicidal asceticism, belonged no longer to this
+world.
+
+The lady continued: "One of these men, a wretched artisan, has been led
+to his ruin by the exaggeration of his vices. You have brought the
+other into the path of salvation, by carrying out his loving and tender
+qualities. Honor, then to your foresight, father! for you said that you
+would make use of the passions to attain your end."
+
+"Do not boast too soon," said Rodin, impatiently. "Have you forgotten
+your niece, and the Hindoo, and the daughters of Marshal Simon? Have
+they also made a Christian end, or resigned their claim to share in this
+inheritance?"
+
+"No, doubtless."
+
+"Hence, you see, madame, we should not lose time in congratulating
+ourselves on the past, but make ready for the future. The great day
+approaches. The first of June is not far off. Heaven grant we may not
+see the four surviving members of the family continue to live impenitent
+up to that period, and so take possession of this enormous property--the
+source of perdition in their hands--but productive of the glory of the
+Church in the hands of our Company!"
+
+"True, father!"
+
+"By the way, you were to see your lawyers on the subject of your niece?"
+
+"I have seen them, father. However uncertain may be the chance of which
+I spoke, it is worth trying. I shall know to-day, I hope, if it is
+legally possible."
+
+"Perhaps then,--in the new condition of life to which she would be
+reduced, we might find means to effect her conversion," said Rodin, with
+a strange and hideous smile; "until now, since she has been so fatally
+brought in contact with the Oriental, the happiness of these two pagans
+appears bright and changeless as the diamond. Nothing bites into it, not
+even Faringhea's tooth. Let us hope that the Lord will wreak justice on
+their vain and guilty felicity!"
+
+This conversation was here interrupted by Father d'Aigrigny, who entered
+the room with an air of triumph, and exclaimed, "Victory!"
+
+"What do you say"' asked the princess.
+
+"He is gone--last night," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Who?" said Rodin.
+
+"Marshal Simon," replied the abbe.
+
+"At last!" said Rodin, unable to hide his joy.
+
+"It was no doubt his interview with General d'Havrincourt which
+filled up the measure," cried the princess, "for I know he had a long
+conversation with the general, who like so many others, believed the
+reports in circulation. All means are good against the impious!" added
+the princess, by way of moral.
+
+"Have you any details?" asked Rodin.
+
+"I have just left Robert," said Father d'Aigrigny. "His age and
+description agree with the marshal's, and the latter travels with his
+papers. Only one thing has greatly surprised your emissary."
+
+"What is that?" said Rodin.
+
+"Until now, he had always to contend with the hesitations of the
+marshal, and had moreover noticed his gloomy and desponding air.
+Yesterday, on the contrary, he found him so bright with happiness, that
+he could not help asking him the cause of the alteration."
+
+"Well?" said Rodin and the princess together, both extremely surprised.
+
+"The marshal answered: 'I am indeed the happiest man in the world; for I
+am going joyfully to accomplish a sacred duty!"
+
+The three actors in this scene looked at each other in silence.
+
+"And what can have produced this sudden change in the mind of the
+marshal?" said the princess, with a pensive air. "We rather reckon
+on sorrow and every kind of irritation to urge him to engage in this
+adventurous enterprise."
+
+"I cannot make it out," said Rodin, reflecting; "but no matter--he
+is gone. We must not lose a moment, to commence operations on his
+daughters. Has he taken that infernal soldier with him?"
+
+"No," said Father d'Aigrigny; "unfortunately, he has not done so. Warned
+by the past, he will redouble his precautions; and a man, whom we
+might have used against him at a pinch, has just been taken with the
+contagion."
+
+"Who is that?" asked the princess.
+
+"Morok. I could count upon him anywhere and for anything. He is lost
+to us; for, should he recover from the cholera, I fear he will fall a
+victim to a horrible and incurable disease."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"A few days ago, he was bitten by one of the mastiffs of his menagerie,
+and, the next day, the dog showed symptoms of hydrophobia."
+
+"Ah! it is dreadful," cried the princess; "and where is this unfortunate
+man?"
+
+"He has been taken to one of the temporary hospitals established in
+Paris, for at present he has only been attacked with cholera. It is
+doubly unfortunate, I repeat, for he was a devoted, determined fellow,
+ready for anything. Now this soldier, who has the care of the orphans,
+will be very difficult to get at, and yet only through him can we hope
+to reach Marshal Simon's daughters."
+
+"That is clear," said Rodin, thoughtfully.
+
+"Particularly since the anonymous letters have again awakened his
+suspicions," added Father d'Aigrigny "and--"
+
+"Talking of the anonymous letters," said Rodin suddenly, interrupting
+Father d'Aigrigny, "there is a fact that you ought to know; I will tell
+you why."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Besides the letters that you know of, Marshal Simon has received a
+number of others unknown to you, in which, by every possible means, it
+is tried to exasperate his irritation against yourself--for they remind
+him of all the reasons he has to hate you, and mock at him, because your
+sacred character shelters you from his vengeance."
+
+Father d'Aigrigny looked at Rodin with amazement, colored in spite of
+himself, and said to him: "But for what purpose has your reverence acted
+in this manner?"
+
+"First of all, to clear myself of suspicion with regard to the letters;
+then, to excite the rage of the marshal to madness, by incessantly
+reminding him of the just grounds he has to hate you, and of the
+impossibility of being avenged upon you. This, joined to the other
+emotions of sorrow and anger, which ferment in the savage bosom of this
+man of bloodshed, tended to urge him on to the rash enterprise, which
+is the consequence and the punishment of his idolatry for a miserable
+usurper."
+
+"That may be," said Father d'Aigrigny, with an air of constraint: "but
+I will observe to your reverence, that it was, perhaps, rather dangerous
+thus to excite Marshal Simon against me."
+
+"Why?" asked Rodin, as he fixed a piercing look upon Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Because the marshal, excited beyond all bounds, and remembering only
+our mutual hate, might seek me out--"
+
+"Well! and what then?"
+
+"Well! he might forget that I am a priest--"
+
+"Oh, you are afraid are you?" said Rodin, disdainfully, interrupting
+Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+At the words: "You are afraid," the reverend father almost started from
+his chair; but recovering his coolness, he answered: "Your reverence
+is right; yes, I should be afraid under such circumstances; I should
+be afraid of forgetting that I am a priest, and of remembering too well
+that I have been a soldier."
+
+"Really?" said Rodin, with sovereign contempt. "You are still no further
+than that stupid and savage point of honor? Your cassock has not yet
+extinguished the warlike fire? So that if this brawling swordsman, whose
+poor, weak head, empty and sonorous as a drum, is so easily turned with
+the stupid jargon of 'Military honor, oaths, Napoleon II.'--if this
+brawling bravo, I say, were to commit some violence against you, it
+would require a great effort, I suppose, for you to remain calm?"
+
+"It is useless, I think," said Father d'Aigrigny, quite unable
+to control his agitation, "for your reverence to enter upon such
+questions."
+
+"As your superior," answered Rodin, severely, "I have the right to ask.
+If Marshal Simon had lifted his hand against you--"
+
+"Sir," cried the reverend father.
+
+"There are no sirs here--we are only priests," said Rodin, harshly.
+Father d'Aigrigny held down his head, scarcely able to repress his rage.
+
+"I ask you," continued Rodin, obstinately, "if Marshal Simon had struck
+you? Is that clear?"
+
+"Enough! in mercy," said Father d'Aigrigny, "enough!"
+
+"Or, if you like it better, had Marshal Simon left the marks of his
+fingers on your cheek?" resumed Rodin, with the utmost pertinacity.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny, pale as death, ground his teeth in a kind of fury
+at the very idea of such an insult, while Rodin, who had no doubt his
+object in asking the question, raised his flabby eyelids, and seemed
+to watch attentively the significant symptoms revealed in the agitated
+countenance of the ex-colonel.
+
+At length, recovering partly his presence of mind, Father d'Aigrigny
+replied, in a forcedly calm tone: "If I were to be exposed to such an
+insult, I would pray heaven to give me resignation and humility."
+
+"And no doubt heaven would hear your prayers," said Rodin, coldly,
+satisfied with the trial to which he had just put him. "Besides, you are
+now warned, and it is not very probable," added he, with a grim smile,
+"that Marshal Simon will ever return to test your humility. But if he
+were to return," said Rodin, fixing on the reverend father a long and
+piercing look, "you would know how to show this brutal swordsman, in
+spite of all his violence, what resignation and humility there is in a
+Christian soul!"
+
+Two humble knocks at the door here interrupted the conversation for a
+moment. A footman entered, bearing a large sealed packet on a salver,
+which he presented to the princess. After this, he withdrew. Princess
+de Saint-Dizier, having by a look asked Rodin's permission to open the
+letter, began to read it--and a cruel satisfaction was soon visible on
+her face.
+
+"There is hope," cried she addressing herself to Rodin: "the demand is
+rigorously legal, and the consequence may be such as we desire. In a
+word, my niece may, any day, be exposed to complete destitution. She,
+who is so extravagant! what a change in her life!"
+
+"We shall then no doubt have some hold on that untamable character,"
+said Rodin with a meditative air; "for, till now, all has failed in
+that direction, and one would suppose some kinds of happiness are
+invulnerable," added the Jesuit, gnawing his flat and dirty nails.
+
+"But, to obtain the result we desire, we must exasperate my niece's
+pride. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary, that I should see and
+talk to her," said the Princess de Saint-Dizier, reflecting.
+
+"Mdlle. de Cardoville will refuse this interview," said Father
+d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Perhaps," replied the princess. "But she is so happy that her audacity
+must be at its height. Yes, yes--I know her--and I will write in such a
+manner, that she will come."
+
+"You think so?" asked Rodin, with a doubtful air.
+
+"Do not fear it, father," answered the lady, "she will come. And her
+pride once brought into play, we may hope a good deal from it."
+
+"We must then act, lady," resumed Rodin; "yes, act promptly. The moment
+approaches. Hate and suspicion are awake. There is not a moment to
+lose."
+
+"As for hate," replied the princess, "Mdlle. de Cardoville must have
+seen to what her lawsuit would lead, about what she called her illegal
+detention in a lunatic asylum, and that of the two young ladies in St.
+Mary's Convent. Thank heaven, we have friends everywhere! I know from
+good authority, that the case will break down from want of evidence, in
+spite of the animosity of certain parliamentary magistrates, who shall
+be well remembered."
+
+"Under these circumstances," replied Rodin, "the departure of the
+marshal gives us every latitude. We must act immediately on his
+daughters."
+
+"But how?" said the princess.
+
+"We must see them," resumed Rodin, "talk with them, study them. Then we
+shall act in consequence."
+
+"But the soldier will not leave them a second," said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"Then," replied Rodin, "we must talk to them in presence of the soldier,
+and get him on our side."
+
+"That hope is idle," cried Father d'Aigrigny. "You do not know the
+military honor of his character. You do not know this man."
+
+"Don't I know him?" said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders. "Did not Mdlle.
+de Cardoville present me to him as her liberator, when I denounced you
+as the soul of the conspiracy? Did I not restore to him his ridiculous
+imperial relic--his cross of honor--when we met at Dr. Baleinier's? Did
+I not bring him back the girls from the convent, and place them in the
+arms of their father?"
+
+"Yes," replied the princess; "but, since that time, my abominable niece
+has either guessed or discovered all. She told you so herself, father."
+
+"She told me, that she considered me her most mortal enemy," said
+Rodin. "Be it so. But did she tell the same to the marshal? Has she
+ever mentioned me to him? and if she have done so, has the marshal
+communicated this circumstance to his soldier? It may be so; but it is
+by no means sure; in any case. I must ascertain the fact; if the soldier
+treats me as an enemy, we shall see what is next to be done--but I will
+first try to be received as a friend."
+
+"When?" asked the princess.
+
+"To-morrow morning," replied Rodin.
+
+"Good heaven, my clear father!" cried the Princess de Saint-Dizier, in
+alarm; "if this soldier were to treat you as an enemy--beware--"
+
+"I always beware, madame. I have had to face worse enemies than he is,"
+said the Jesuit showing his black teeth; "the cholera to begin with."
+
+"But he may refuse to see you, and in what way will you then get at
+Marshal Simon's daughters?" said Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+"I do not yet know." answered Rodin. "But as I intend to do it, I shall
+find the means."
+
+"Father," said the princess, suddenly, on reflection, "these girls have
+never seen me, and I might obtain admittance to them, without sending in
+my name."
+
+"That would be perfectly useless at present, madame, for I must first
+know what course to take with respect to them. I must see and converse
+with them, at any cost, and then, after I have fixed my plan, your
+assistance may be very useful. In any case, please to be ready to
+morrow, madame, to accompany me."
+
+"To what place, father?"
+
+"To Marshal Simon's."
+
+"To the marshal's?"
+
+"Not exactly. You will get into your carriage, and I will take a
+hackney-coach. I will then try to obtain an interview with the girls,
+and, during that time, you will wait for me at a few yards from the
+house. If I succeed, and require your aid, I will come and fetch you; I
+can give you my instructions without any appearance of concert between
+us."
+
+"I am content, reverend father; but, in truth, I tremble at the thought
+of your interview with that rough trooper."
+
+"The Lord will watch over his servant, madame!" replied Rodin. "As
+for you, father," added he, addressing the Abbe d'Aigrigny, "despatch
+instantly to Vienna the note which is all prepared to announce the
+departure and speedy arrival of the marshal. Every precaution has been
+taken. I shall write more fully this evening."
+
+The next morning, about eight o'clock, the Princess de Saint-Dizier,
+in her carriage, and Rodin, in his hackney-coach, took the direction of
+Marshal Simon's house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII. HAPPINESS.
+
+Marshal Simon has been absent two days. It is eight o'clock in the
+morning. Dagobert, walking on tip-toe with the greatest caution, so as
+not to make the floor creak beneath his tread, crosses the room which
+leads to the bedchamber of Rose and Blanche and applies his ear to the
+door of the apartment. With equal caution, Spoil-sport follows exactly
+the movements of his master. The countenance of the soldier is uneasy
+and full of thought. As he approaches the door, he says to himself: "I
+hope the dear children heard nothing of what happened in the night! It
+would alarm them, and it is much better that they should not know it at
+present. It might afflict them sadly, poor dears! and they are so gay,
+so happy, since they feel sure of their father's love for them. They
+bore his departure so bravely! I would not for the world that they
+should know of this unfortunate event."
+
+Then as he listened, the soldier resumed: "I hear nothing--and yet they
+are always awake so early. Can it be sorrow?"
+
+Dagobert's reflections were here interrupted by two frank, hearty bursts
+of laughter, from the interior of the bedroom.
+
+"Come! they are not so sad as I thought," said the soldier, breathing
+more freely. "Probably they know nothing about it."
+
+Soon, the laughter was again heard with redoubled force, and the
+soldier, delighted at this gayety, so rare on the part of "his
+children," was much affected by it: the tears started to his eyes at the
+thought that the orphans had at length recovered the serenity natural to
+their age; then, passing from one emotion to the other, still listening
+at the door, with his body leaning forward, and his hands resting on
+his knees, Dagobert's lip quivered with an expression of mute joy, and,
+shaking his head a little, he accompanied with his silent laughter,
+the increasing hilarity of the young girls. At last, as nothing is so
+contagious as gayety, and as the worthy soldier was in an ecstasy of
+joy, he finished by laughing aloud with all his might, without knowing
+why, and only because Rose and Blanche were laughing. Spoil-sport had
+never seen his master in such a transport of delight; he looked at him
+for a while in deep and silent astonishment, and then began to bark in a
+questioning way.
+
+At this well-known sound, the laughter within suddenly ceased, and a
+sweet voice, still trembling with joyous emotion, exclaimed: "Is it you,
+Spoil-sport, that have come to wake us?" The dog understood what was
+said, wagged his tail, held down his ears, and, approaching close to the
+door, answered the appeal of his young mistress by a kind of friendly
+growl.
+
+"Spoil-sport," said Rose, hardly able to restrain her laughter, "you are
+very early this morning."
+
+"Tell us what o'clock it is, if you please, old fellow?" added Blanche.
+
+"Young ladies, it is past eight," said suddenly the gruff voice of
+Dagobert, accompanying this piece of humor with a loud laugh.
+
+A cry of gay surprise was heard, and then Rose resumed: "Good-morning,
+Dagobert."
+
+"Good-morning, my children. You are very lazy to-day, I must tell you."
+
+"It is not our fault. Our dear Augustine has not yet been to call us. We
+are waiting for her."
+
+"Oh! there it is," said Dagobert to himself, his features once more
+assuming an expression of anxiety. Then he returned aloud, in a tone of
+some embarrassment, for the worthy man was no hand at a falsehood: "My
+children, our companion went out this morning--very early. She is gone
+to the country--on business--she will not return for some days--so you
+had better get up by yourselves for today."
+
+"Our good Madame Augustine!" exclaimed Blanche, with interest. "I hope
+it is nothing bad that has made her leave suddenly--eh, Dagobert?"
+
+"No, no--not at all--only business," answered the soldier. "To see one
+of her relations."
+
+"Oh, so much the better!" said Rose. "Well, Dagobert, when we call you
+can come in."
+
+"I will come back in a quarter of an hour," said the soldier as
+he withdrew; and he thought to himself: "I must lecture that fool
+Loony--for he is so stupid, and so fond of talking, that he will let it
+all out."
+
+The name of the pretended simpleton will serve as a natural transition,
+to inform the reader of the cause of the hilarity of the sisters. They
+were laughing at the numberless absurdities of the idiot. The girls rose
+and dressed themselves, each serving as lady's-maid to the other. Rose
+had combed and arranged Blanche's hair; it was now Blanche's turn to do
+the same for her sister. Thus occupied, they formed a charming picture.
+Rose was seated before the dressing-table; her sister, standing behind
+her, was smoothing her beautiful brown hair. Happy age! so little
+removed from childhood, that present joy instantly obliterates the
+traces of past sorrow! But the sisters felt more than joy; it was
+happiness, deep and unalterable, for their father loved them, and their
+happiness was a delight, and not a pain to him. Assured of the affection
+of his children, he, also, thanks to them, no longer feared any grief.
+To those three beings, thus certain of their mutual love, what was a
+momentary separation? Having explained this, we shall understand
+the innocent gayety of the sisters, notwithstanding their father's
+departure, and the happy, joyous expression, which now filled with
+animation their charming faces, on which the late fading rose had begun
+once more to bloom. Their faith in the future gave to their countenances
+something resolute and decisive, which added a degree of piquancy to the
+beauty of their enchanting features.
+
+Blanche, in smoothing her sister's hair, let fall the comb, and, as she
+was stooping to pick it up, Rose anticipated her, saying: "If it had
+been broken, we would have put it into the handle-basket."
+
+Then the two laughed merrily at this expression, which reminded them of
+an admirable piece of folly on the part of Loony.
+
+The supposed simpleton had broken the handle of a cup, and when the
+governess of the young ladies had reprimanded him for his carelessness,
+he had answered: "Never mind, madame; I have put it into the handle
+basket."
+
+"The handle-basket, what is that?"
+
+"Yes, Madame; it is where I keep all the handles I break off the
+things!"
+
+"Dear me!" said Rose, drying her eyes; "how silly it is to laugh at such
+foolishness."
+
+"It is droll," replied Blanche; "how can we help it?"
+
+"All I regret is, that father cannot hear us laugh."
+
+"He was so happy to see us gay!"
+
+"We must write to him to-day, the story of the handle-basket."
+
+"And that of the feather-brush, to show that, according to promise, we
+kept up our spirits during his absence."
+
+"Write to him, sister? no, he is to write to us, and we are not to
+answer his letters."
+
+"True! well then, I have an idea. Let us address letters to him here,
+Dagobert can put them into the post, and, on his return, our father will
+read our correspondence."
+
+"That will be charming! What nonsense we will write to him, since he
+takes pleasure in it!"
+
+"And we, too, like to amuse ourselves."
+
+"Oh, certainly! father's last words have given us so much courage."
+
+"As I listened to them, I felt quite reconciled to his going."
+
+"When he said to us: 'My children, I will confide in you all I can. I
+go to fulfill a sacred duty, and I must be absent for some time; for
+though, when I was blind enough to doubt your affection, I could not
+make up my mind to leave you, my conscience was by no means tranquil.
+Grief takes such an effect on us, that I had not the strength to come to
+a decision, and my days were passed in painful hesitation. But now that
+I am certain of your tenderness, all this irresolution has ceased, and
+I understand how one duty is not to be sacrificed to another, and that I
+have to perform two duties at once, both equally sacred; and this I now
+do with joy, and delight, and courage!'"
+
+"Go on, sister!" cried Blanche, rising to draw nearer to Rose. "I think
+I hear our father when I remember those words, which must console and
+support us during his absence."
+
+"And then our father continued: 'Instead of grieving at my departure,
+you would rejoice in it, you should be proud and happy. I go to perform
+a good and generous act. Fancy to yourselves, that there is somewhere a
+poor orphan, oppressed and abandoned by all--and that the father of that
+orphan was once my benefactor, and that I had promised him to protect
+his son--and that the life of that son is now in peril--tell me, my
+children; would you regret that I should leave you to fly to the aid of
+such an orphan?'--"
+
+"'No, no, brave father!' we answered: 'we should not then be your
+daughters!'" continued Rose, with enthusiasm. "Count upon us! We should
+be indeed unhappy if we thought that our sorrow could deprive thee of
+thy courage. Go! and every day we will say to ourselves proudly, 'It was
+to perform a great and noble duty that our father left us--we can wait
+calmly for his return.'"
+
+"How that idea of duty sustains one, sister!" resumed Rose, with growing
+enthusiasm. "It gave our father the courage to leave us without regret,
+and to us the courage to bear his absence gayly!"
+
+"And then, how calm we are now! Those mournful dreams, which seemed to
+portend such sad events, no longer afflict us."
+
+"I tell you, sister, this time we are really happy once for all."
+
+"And then, do you feel like me? I fancy, that I am stronger and more
+courageous and that I could brave every danger."
+
+"I should think so! We are strong enough now. Our father in the midst,
+you on one side, I on the other--"
+
+"Dagobert in the vanguard, and Spoil-sport in the rear! Then the army
+will be complete, and let 'em come on by thousands!" added a gruff, but
+jovial voice, interrupting the girl, as Dagobert appeared at the half
+open door of the room. It was worth looking at his face, radiant with
+joy; for the old fellow had somewhat indiscreetly been listening to the
+conversation.
+
+"Oh! you were listening, Paul Pry!" said Rose gayly, as she entered the
+adjoining room with her sister, and both affectionately embraced the
+soldier.
+
+"To be sure, I was listening; and I only regretted not to have ears
+as large as Spoil-sport's! Brave, good girls! that's how I like to see
+you--bold as brass, and saying to care and sorrow: 'Right about face!
+march! go to the devil!'"
+
+"He will want to make us swear, now," said Rose to her sister, laughing
+with all her might.
+
+"Well! now and then, it does no harm," said the soldier; "it relieves
+and calms one, when if one could not swear by five hundred thousand
+de--"
+
+"That's enough!" said Rose, covering with her pretty hand the gray
+moustache, so as to stop Dagobert in his speech. "If Madame Augustine
+heard you--"
+
+"Our poor governess! so mild and timid," resumed Blanche. "How you would
+frighten her!"
+
+"Yes," said Dagobert, as he tried to conceal his rising embarrassment;
+"but she does not hear us. She is gone into the country."
+
+"Good, worthy woman!" replied Blanche, with interest. "She said
+something of you, which shows her excellent heart."
+
+"Certainly," resumed Rose; "for she said to us, in speaking of you, 'Ah,
+young ladies! my affection must appear very little, compared with M.
+Dagobert's. But I feel that I also have the right to devote myself to
+you.'"
+
+"No doubt, no doubt! she has a heart of gold," answered Dagobert. Then
+he added to himself, "It's as if they did it on purpose, to bring the
+conversation back to this poor woman."
+
+"Father made a good choice," continued Rose. "She is the widow of an old
+officer, who was with him in the wars."
+
+"When we were out of spirits," said Blanche, "you should have seen her
+uneasiness and grief, and how earnestly she set about consoling us."
+
+"I have seen the tears in her eyes when she looked at us," resumed Rose.
+"Oh! she loves us tenderly, and we return her affection. With regard to
+that, Dagobert, we have a plan as soon as our father comes back."
+
+"Be quiet, sister!" said Blanche, laughing. "Dagobert will not keep our
+secret."
+
+"He!"
+
+"Will you keep it for us, Dagobert?"
+
+"I tell you what," said the soldier, more and more embarrassed; "you had
+better not tell it to me."
+
+"What! can you keep nothing from Madame Augustine?"
+
+"Ah, Dagobert! Dagobert!" said Blanche, gayly holding up her finger at
+the soldier; "I suspect you very much of paying court to our governess."
+
+"I pay court?" said the soldier--and the expression of his face was so
+rueful, as he pronounced these words, that the two sisters burst out
+laughing.
+
+Their hilarity was at its height when the door opened and Loony advanced
+into room announcing, with a loud voice, "M. Rodin!" In fact, the Jesuit
+glided almost imperceptibly into the apartment, as if to take possession
+of the ground. Once there, he thought the game his own, and his reptile
+eyes sparkled with joy. It would be difficult to paint the surprise of
+the two sisters, and the anger of the soldier, at this unexpected visit.
+
+Rushing upon Loony, Dagobert seized him by the collar, and exclaimed:
+"Who gave you leave to introduce any one here without my permission?"
+
+"Pardon, M. Dagobert!" said Loony, throwing himself on his knees, and
+clasping his hands with an air of idiotic entreaty.
+
+"Leave the room!--and you too!" added the soldier, with a menacing
+gesture, as he turned towards Rodin, who had already approached the
+girls, with a paternal smile on his countenance.
+
+"I am at your orders, my dear sir," said the priest, humbly; and he made
+a low bow, but without stirring from the spot.
+
+"Will you go?" cried the soldier to Loony, who was still kneeling, and
+who, thanks to the advantages of this position, was able to utter a
+certain number of words before Dagobert could remove him.
+
+"M. Dagobert," said Loony in a doleful voice, "I beg pardon for bringing
+up the gentleman without leave; but, alas, my head is turned, because of
+the misfortune that happened to Madame Augustine."
+
+"What misfortune?" cried Rose and Blanche together, as they advanced
+anxiously towards Loony.
+
+"Will you go?" thundered Dagobert, shaking the servant by the collar, to
+force him to rise.
+
+"Speak--speak!" said Blanche, interposing between the soldier and his
+prey. "What has happened to Madame Augustine?"
+
+"Oh," shouted Loony, in spite of the cuffs of the soldier. "Madame
+Augustine was attacked in the night with cholera, and taken--"
+
+He was unable to finish. Dagobert struck him a tremendous blow with
+his fist, right on the jaw, and, putting forth his still formidable
+strength, the old horse-grenadier lifted him to his legs, and with one
+violent kick bestowed on the lower part of his back, sent him rolling
+into the ante chamber.
+
+Then turning to Rodin, with flushed cheek and sparkling eye, Dagobert
+pointed to the door with an expressive gesture, and said in an angry
+voice: "Now, be off with you and that quickly!"
+
+"I must pay my respects another time, my dear sir," said Rodin, as he
+retired towards the door, bowing to the young girls.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV. DUTY.
+
+Rodin, retreating slowly before the fire of Dagobert's angry looks,
+walked backwards to the door, casting oblique but piercing glances at
+the orphans, who were visibly affected by the servant's intentional
+indiscretion. (Dagobert had ordered him not to speak before the girls of
+the illness of their governess, and that was quite enough to induce the
+simpleton to take the first opportunity of doing so.)
+
+Rose hastily approached the soldier, and said to him: "Is it true--is
+it really true that poor Madame Augustine has been attacked with the
+cholera?"
+
+"No--I do not know--I cannot tell," replied the soldier, hesitating;
+"besides, what is it to you?"
+
+"Dagobert, you would conceal from us a calamity," said Blanche. "I
+remember now your embarrassment, when we spoke to you of our governess."
+
+"If she is ill, we ought not to abandon her. She had pity on our
+sorrows; we ought to pity her sufferings."
+
+"Come, sister; come to her room," said Blanche, advancing towards the
+door, where Rodin had stopped short, and stood listening with growing
+attention to this unexpected scene, which seemed to give him ample food
+for thought.
+
+"You will not leave this room," said the soldier, sternly, addressing
+the two sisters.
+
+"Dagobert," replied Rose, firmly, "it is a sacred duty, and it would be
+cowardice not to fulfil it."
+
+"I tell you that you shall not leave the room," said the soldier,
+stamping his foot with impatience.
+
+"Dagobert," replied Blanche, with as resolute an air as her sister's,
+and with a kind of enthusiasm which brought the blood to her fair cheek,
+"our father, when he left us, give us an admirable example of devotion
+and duty. He would not forgive us were we to forget the lesson."
+
+"What," cried Dagobert, in a rage, and advancing towards the sisters to
+prevent their quitting the apartment; "you think that if your governess
+had the cholera, I would let you go to her under the pretext of
+duty?--Your duty is to live, to live happy, for your father's sake--and
+for mine into the bargain--so not a word more of such folly!"
+
+"We can run no danger by going to our governess in her room," said Rose.
+
+"And if there were danger," added Blanche, "we ought not to hesitate.
+So, Dagobert, be good! and let us pass."
+
+Rodin, who had listened to what precedes, with sustained attention,
+suddenly started, as if a thought had struck him; his eye shone
+brightly, and an expression of fatal joy illumined his countenance.
+
+"Dagobert, do not refuse!" said Blanche. "You would do for us what you
+reproach us with wishing to do for another."
+
+Dagobert had as it were, till now stood in the path of the Jesuit and
+the twins by keeping close to the door; but, after a moments reflection,
+he shrugged his shoulders, stepped to one side, and said calmly: "I was
+an old fool. Come, young ladies; if you find Madame Augustine in the
+house, I will allow you to remain with her."
+
+Surprised at these words, the girls stood motionless and irresolute.
+
+"If our governess is not here, where is she, then?" said Rose.
+
+"You think, perhaps, that I am going to tell you in the excitement in
+which you are!"
+
+"She is dead!" cried Rose growing pale.
+
+"No, no--be calm," said the soldier, hastily; "I swear to you, by your
+father's honor, that she is not dead. At the first appearance of the
+disorder, she begged to be removed from the house, fearing the contagion
+for those in it."
+
+"Good and courageous woman!" said Rose tenderly, "And you will not allow
+us--"
+
+"I will not allow you to go out, even if I have to lock you up in your
+room," cried the soldier, again stamping with rage; then, remembering
+that the blunderhead's indiscretion was the sole cause of this
+unfortunate incident, he added, with concentrated fury: "Oh! I will
+break my stick upon that rascal's back."
+
+So saying, he turned towards the door, where Rodin still stood, silent
+and attentive, dissembling with habitual impassibility the fatal hopes
+he had just conceived in his brain. The girls, no longer doubting the
+removal of their governess, and convinced that Dagobert would not tell
+them whither they had conveyed her, remained pensive and sad.
+
+At sight of the priest, whom he had forgotten for the moment, the
+soldier's rage increased, and he said to him abruptly: "Are you still
+there?"
+
+"I would merely observe to you, my dear sir," said Rodin, with that air
+of perfect good nature which he knew so well how to assume, "that you
+were standing before the door, which naturally prevented me from going
+out."
+
+"Well, now nothing prevents you--so file off!"
+
+"Certainly, I will file off, if you wish it, my dear sir though I think
+I have some reason to be surprised at such a reception."
+
+"It is no reception at all--so begone!"
+
+"I had come, my dear sir to speak to you--"
+
+"I have no time for talking."
+
+"Upon business of great importance."
+
+"I have no other business of importance than to remain with these
+children."
+
+"Very good, my dear sir," said Rodin, pausing on the threshold. "I
+will not disturb you any longer; excuse my indiscretion. The bearer of
+excellent news from Marshal Simon, I came--"
+
+"News from our father!" cried Rose, drawing nearer to Rodin.
+
+"Oh, speak, speak, sir!" added Blanche.
+
+"You have news of the marshal!" said Dagobert, glancing suspiciously at
+Rodin. "Pray, what is this news?"
+
+But Rodin, without immediately answering the question, returned from the
+threshold into the room, and, contemplating Rose and Blanche by turns
+with admiration, he resumed: "What happiness for me, to be able to bring
+some pleasure to these dear young ladies. They are even as I left them
+graceful, and fair, and charming--only less sad than on the day when I
+fetched them from the gloomy convent in which they were kept prisoners,
+to restore them to the arms of their glorious father!"
+
+"That was their place, and this is not yours," said Dagobert, harshly,
+still holding the door open behind Rodin.
+
+"Confess, at least that I was not so much out of place at Dr.
+Baleinier's," said the Jesuit, with a cunning air. "You know, for it
+was there that I restored to you the noble imperial cross you so much
+regretted--the day when that good Mdlle. de Cardoville only prevented
+you from strangling me by telling you that I was her liberator. Aye!
+it was just as I have the honor of stating, young ladies," added Rodin,
+with a smile; "this brave soldier was very near strangling me, for, be
+it said without offense, he has, in spite of his age, a grasp of iron.
+Ha, ha! the Prussians and Cossacks must know that better than I!"
+
+These few words reminded Dagobert and the twins of the services which
+Rodin had really rendered them; and though the marshal had heard
+Mdlle. de Cardoville speak of Rodin as of a very dangerous man, he
+had forgotten, in the midst of so many anxieties, to communicate this
+circumstance to Dagobert. But this latter, warned by experience, felt,
+in spite of favorable appearances, a secret aversion for the Jesuit; so
+he replied abruptly: "The strength of my grasp has nothing to do with
+the matter."
+
+"If I allude to that little innocent playfulness on your part, my dear
+sir," said Rodin, in his softest tone, approaching the two sisters with
+a wriggle which was peculiar to him; "if I allude to it, you see, it was
+suggested by the involuntary recollection of the little services I
+was happy enough to render you." Dagobert looked fixedly at Rodin, who
+instantly veiled his glance beneath his flabby eyelids.
+
+"First of all," said the soldier, after a moment's silence, "a true man
+never speaks of the services he has rendered, and you come back three
+times to the subject."
+
+"But Dagobert," whispered Rose, "if he brings news of our father?"
+
+The soldier made a sign, as if to beg the girl to let him speak,
+and resumed, looking full at Rodin: "You are cunning, but I'm no raw
+recruit."
+
+"I cunning?" said Rodin, with a sanctified air.
+
+"Yes, very. You think to puzzle me with your fine phrases; but I'm
+not to be caught in that way. Just listen to me. Some of your band of
+black-gowns stole my cross; you returned it to me. Some of the same band
+carried off these children; you brought them back. It is also true that
+you denounced the renegade D'Aigrigny. But all this only proves two
+things: first, that you were vile enough to be the accomplice of these
+scoundrels; and secondly, that, having been their accomplice, you were
+base enough to betray them. Now, those two facts are equally bad, and I
+suspect you most furiously. So march off at once; your presence is not
+good for these children."
+
+"But, my dear sir--"
+
+"I will have no buts," answered Dagobert, in an angry voice. "When a man
+of your look does good, it is only to hide some evil; and one must be on
+guard."
+
+"I understand your suspicions," said Rodin coolly, hiding his growing
+disappointment, for he had hoped it would have been easy to coax the
+soldier; "but, if you reflect, what interest have I in deceiving you?
+And in what should the deception consist?"
+
+"You have some interest or other in persisting to remain here, when I
+tell you to go away."
+
+"I have already had the honor of informing you of the object of my
+visit, my dear sir."
+
+"To bring news of Marshal Simon?"
+
+"That is exactly the case. I am happy enough to have news of the
+marshal. Yes, my dear young ladies," added Rodin, as he again approached
+the two sisters, to recover, as it were, the ground he had lost, "I have
+news of your glorious father!"
+
+"Then come to my room directly, and you can tell it to me," replied
+Dagobert.
+
+"What! you would be cruel enough to deprive these dear ladies of the
+pleasure--"
+
+"By heaven, sir!" cried Dagobert, in a voice of thunder, "you will make
+me forget myself. I should be sorry to fling a man of your age down the
+stairs. Will you be gone?"
+
+"Well, well," said Rodin mildly, "do not be angry with a poor old man.
+I am really not worth the trouble. I will go with you to your room, and
+tell you what I have to communicate. You will repent not having let me
+speak before these dear young ladies; but that will be your punishment,
+naughty man!"
+
+So saying, Rodin again bowed very low, and, concealing his rage and
+vexation, left the room before Dagobert, who made a sign to the two
+sisters, and then followed, closing the door after him.
+
+"What news of our father, Dagobert?" said Rose anxiously, when the
+soldier returned, after a quarter of an hours absence.
+
+"Well, that old conjurer knows that the marshal set out in good spirits,
+and he seems acquainted with M. Robert. How could he be informed of all
+this? I cannot tell," added the soldier, with a thoughtful air; "but it
+is only another reason to be on one's guard against him."
+
+"But what news of our father?" asked Rose.
+
+"One of that old rascal's friends (I think him a rascal still) knows
+your father, he tells me, and met him five-and-twenty leagues from here.
+Knowing that this man was coming to Paris, the marshal charged him to
+let you know that he was in perfect health, and hoped soon to see you
+again."
+
+"Oh, what happiness!" cried Rose.
+
+"You see, you were wrong to suspect the poor old man, Dagobert," added
+Blanche. "You treated him so harshly!"
+
+"Possibly so; but I am not sorry for it."
+
+"And why?"
+
+"I have my reasons; and one of the best is that, when I saw him came in,
+and go sidling and creeping round about us, I felt chilled to the marrow
+of my bones, without knowing why. Had I seen a serpent crawling towards
+you, I should not have been more frightened. I knew, of course, that he
+could not hurt you in my presence; but I tell you, my children, in spite
+of the services he has no doubt rendered us, it was all I could do to
+refrain from throwing him out of the window. Now, this manner of proving
+my gratitude is not natural, and one must be on one's guard against
+people who inspire us with such ideas."
+
+"Good Dagobert, it is your affection for us that makes you so
+suspicious," said Rose, in a coaxing tone; "it proves how much you love
+us."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV. THE IMPROVISED HOSPITAL
+
+Among a great number of temporary hospitals opened at the time of the
+cholera in every quarter of Paris, one had been established on the
+ground-floor of a large house in the Rue du Mont-Blanc. The vacant
+apartments had been generously placed by their proprietor at the
+disposal of the authorities; and to this place were carried a number
+of persons, who, being suddenly attacked with the contagion, were
+considered in too dangerous a state to be removed to the principal
+hospitals.
+
+Two days had elapsed since Rodin's visit to Marshal Simon's daughters.
+Shortly after he had been expelled, the Princess de Saint-Dizier had
+entered to see them, under the cloak of being a house-to-house visitor
+to collect funds for the cholera sufferers.
+
+Choosing the moment when Dagobert, deceived by her lady-like demeanor,
+had withdrawn, she counselled the twins that it was their duty to go
+and see their governess, whom she stated to be in the hospital we now
+describe.
+
+It was about ten o'clock in the morning. The persons who had watched
+during the night by the sick people, in the hospital established in
+the Rue du Mont-Blanc, were about to be relieved by other voluntary
+assistants.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said one of those newly arrived, "how are we getting
+on? Has there been any decrease last night in the number of the sick?"
+
+"Unfortunately, no; but the doctors think the contagion has reached its
+height."
+
+"Then there is some hope of seeing it decrease."
+
+"And have any of the gentlemen, whose places we come to take, been
+attacked by the disease?"
+
+"We came eleven strong last night; we are only nine now."
+
+"That is bad. Were these two persons taken off rapidly?"
+
+"One of the victims, a young man of twenty-five years of age, a cavalry
+officer on furlough, was struck as it were by lightning. In less than a
+quarter of an hour he was dead. Though such facts are frequent, we were
+speechless with horror."
+
+"Poor young man!"
+
+"He had a word of cordial encouragement and hope for every one. He had
+so far succeeded in raising the spirits of the patients, that some of
+them who were less affected by the cholera than by the fear of it, were
+able to quit the hospital nearly well."
+
+"What a pity! So good a young man! Well, he died gloriously; it requires
+as much courage as on the field of battle."
+
+"He had only one rival in zeal and courage, and that is a Young priest,
+with an angelic countenance, whom they call the Abbe Gabriel. He is
+indefatigable; he hardly takes an hour's rest, but runs from one to
+the other, and offers himself to everybody. He forgets nothing. The
+consolation; which he offers come from the depths of his soul, and are
+not mere formalities in the way of his profession. No, no, I saw him
+weep over a poor woman, whose eyes he had closed after a dreadful agony.
+Oh, if all priests were like him!"
+
+"No doubt, a good priest is most worthy of respect. But! who is the
+other victim of last night?"
+
+"Oh! his death was frightful. Do not speak of it. I have still the
+horrible scene before my eyes."
+
+"A sudden attack of cholera?"
+
+"If it had only been the contagion, I should not so shudder at the
+remembrance."
+
+"What then did he die of?"
+
+"It is a string of horrors. Three days ago, they brought here a man, who
+was supposed to be only attacked with cholera. You have no doubt heard
+speak of this personage. He is the lion-tamer, that drew all Paris to
+the Porte-Saint-Martin."
+
+"I know the man you mean. Called Morok. He performed a kind of play with
+a tame panther."
+
+"Exactly so; I was myself present at a similar scene, which a stranger,
+an Indian, in consequence of a wager, was said at the time, jumped upon
+the stage and killed the panther."
+
+"Well, this Morok, brought here as a cholera-patient, and indeed with
+all the symptoms of the contagion, soon showed signs of a still more
+frightful malady."
+
+"And this was--"
+
+"Hydrophobia."
+
+"Did he become mad?"
+
+"Yes; he confessed, that he had been bitten a few days before by one
+of the mastiffs in his menagerie; unfortunately, we only learnt this
+circumstance after the terrible attack, which cost the life of the poor
+fellow we deplore."
+
+"How did it happen, then?"
+
+"Morok was in a room with three other patients. Suddenly seized with a
+sort of furious delirium, he rose, uttering ferocious cries, and rushed
+raving mad into the passage. Our poor friend made an attempt to stop
+him. This kind of resistance increased the frenzy of Morok, who threw
+himself on the man that crossed his path, and, tearing him with his
+teeth, fell down in horrible convulsions."
+
+"Oh! you are right. 'Twas indeed frightful. And, not withstanding every
+assistance this victim of Morok's--"
+
+"Died during the night, in dreadful agony; for the shock had been so
+violent, that brain-fever almost instantly declared itself."
+
+"And is Morok dead?"
+
+"I do not know. He was to be taken to another hospital, after being fast
+bound in the state of weakness which generally succeeds the fit. But,
+till he can be removed he has been confined in a room upstairs."
+
+"But he cannot recover."
+
+"I should think he must be dead by this time. The doctors did not give
+him twenty-four hours to live."
+
+The persons engaged in this conversation were standing in an
+ante-chamber on the ground-floor, in which usually assembled those who
+came to offer their voluntary aid to the sick. One door of this room
+communicated with the rest of the hospital, and the other with the
+passage that opened upon the courtyard.
+
+"Dear me!" said one of the two speakers, looking through the window.
+"See what two charming girls have just got out of that elegant carriage.
+How much alike they are! Such a resemblance is indeed extraordinary."
+
+"No doubt they are twins. Poor young girls! dressed in Mourning. They
+have perhaps lost father or mother."
+
+"One would imagine they are coming this way."
+
+"Yes, they are coming up the steps."
+
+And indeed Rose and Blanche soon entered the antechamber, with a timid,
+anxious air, though a sort of feverish excitement was visible in their
+looks. One of the two men that were talking together, moved by the
+embarrassment of the girls, advanced toward them, and said, in a tone of
+attentive politeness: "Is there anything I can do for you, ladies?"
+
+"Is not this, sir," replied Rose, "the infirmary of the Rue du Mont
+Blanc?"
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"A lady, called Madame Augustine du Tremblay, was brought here, we are
+told, about two days ago. Could we see her?"
+
+"I would observe to you, miss, that there is some danger in entering the
+sick-wards."
+
+"It is a dear friend that we wish to see," answered Rose, in a mild and
+firm tone, which sufficiently expressed that she was determined to brave
+the danger.
+
+"I cannot be sure, miss," resumed the other, "that the person you seek
+is here; but, if you will take the trouble to walk into this room on the
+left, you will find there the good Sister Martha; she has the care
+of the women's wards, and will give you all the information you can
+desire."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Blanche, with a graceful bow; and she and her
+sister entered together the apartment which had been pointed out to
+them.
+
+"They are really charming," said the man, looking after the two sisters,
+who soon disappeared from his view. "It would be a great pity if--"
+
+He was unable to finish. A frightful tumult, mingled with cries of alarm
+and horror, rose suddenly from the adjoining rooms. Almost instantly,
+two doors were thrown open, and a number of the sick, half-naked, pale,
+fleshless, and their features convulsed with terror, rushed into the
+antechamber, exclaiming: "Help! help! the madman!" It is impossible to
+paint the scene of despairing and furious confusion which followed this
+panic of so many affrighted wretches, flying to the only other door, to
+escape from the perils they dreaded, and there, struggling and trampling
+on each other to pass through the narrow entrance.
+
+At the moment when the last of these unhappy creatures succeeded in
+reaching the door, dragging himself along upon his bleeding hands, for
+he had been thrown down and almost crushed in the confusion--Morok,
+the object of so much terror--Morok himself appeared. He was a horrible
+sight. With the exception of a rag bound about his middle, his wan form
+was entirely naked, and from his bare legs still hung the remnants of
+the cords he had just broken. His thick, yellow hair stood almost on
+end, his beard bristled, his savage eyes rolled full of blood in their
+orbits, and shone with a glassy brightness; his lips were covered with
+foam; from time to time, he uttered hoarse, guttural cries. The veins,
+visible on his iron limbs were swollen almost to bursting. He bounded
+like a wild beast, and stretched out before him his bony and quivering
+hands. At the moment Morok reached the doorway, by which those he
+pursued made their escape, some persons, attracted by the noise, managed
+to close this door from without, whilst others secured that which
+communicated with the sick-ward.
+
+Morok thus found himself a prisoner. He ran to the window to force it
+open, and threw himself into the courtyard. But, stopping suddenly, he
+drew back from the glittering panes, seized with that invincible horror
+which all the victims of hydrophobia feel at the sight of any shining
+object, particularly glass. The unfortunate creatures whom he had
+pursued, saw him from the courtyard exhausting himself in furious
+efforts to open the doors that just had been closed upon him. Then,
+perceiving the inutility of his attempts, he uttered savage cries, and
+rushed furiously round the room, like a wild beast that seeks in vain to
+escape from its cage.
+
+But, suddenly, those spectators of this scene, who had approached
+nearest to the window, uttered a loud exclamation of fear and anguish.
+Morok had perceived the little door which led to the closet occupied by
+Sister Martha, where Rose and Blanche had entered a few minutes before.
+Hoping to get out by this way, Morok drew the door violently towards
+him, and succeeded in half opening it, notwithstanding the resistance he
+experienced from the inside. For an instant the affrighted crowd saw the
+stiffened arms Of Sister Martha and the orphans, clinging to the door,
+and holding it back with all their might.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI. HYDROPHOBIA.
+
+When the sick people, assembled in the courtyard, saw the desperate
+efforts of Morok to force the door of the room which contained Sister
+Martha and the orphans, their fright redoubled. "It is all over, Sister
+Martha!" cried they.
+
+"The door will give way."
+
+"And the closet has no other entrance."
+
+"There are two young girls in mourning with her."
+
+"Come! we must not leave these poor women to encounter the madman.
+Follow me, friends!" cried generously one of the spectators, who was
+still blessed with health, and he rushed towards the steps to return to
+the ante-chamber.
+
+"It's too late! it's only exposing yourself in vain," cried many
+persons, holding him back by force.
+
+At this moment, voices were heard, exclaiming: "Here is the Abbe
+Gabriel."
+
+"He is coming downstairs. He has heard the noise."
+
+"He is asking what is the matter."
+
+"What will he do?"
+
+Gabriel, occupied with a dying person in a neighboring room, had,
+indeed, just learned that Morok, having broken his bonds, had succeeded
+in escaping from the chamber in which he had been temporarily confined.
+Foreseeing the terrible dangers which might result from the escape of
+the lion-tamer, the missionary consulted only his courage, and hastened
+down, in the hope of preventing greater misfortunes. In obedience to
+his orders, an attendant followed him, bearing a brazier full of hot
+cinders, on which lay several irons, at a white heat, used by the
+doctors for cauterizing, in desperate cases of cholera.
+
+The angelic countenance of Gabriel was very pale; but calm intrepidity
+shone upon his noble brow. Hastily crossing the passage, and making his
+way through the crowd, he went straight to the ante-chamber door. As
+he approached it, one of the sick people said to him, in a lamentable
+voice; "Ah, sir! it is all over. Those who can see through the window
+say that Sister Martha is lost."
+
+Gabriel made no answer, but grasped the key of the door. Before entering
+the room, however, he turned to the attendant, and said to him in a firm
+voice: "Are the irons of a white heat?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then wait here, and be ready. As for you, my friends," he added,
+turning to some of the sick, who shuddered with terror, "as soon as
+I enter shut the door after me. I will answer for the rest. And you;
+friend, only bring your irons when I call."
+
+And the young missionary turned the key in the lock. At this juncture,
+a cry of alarm, pity, and admiration rose from every lip, and the
+spectators drew back from the door, with an involuntary feeling of
+fear. Raising his eyes to heaven, as if to invoke its assistance at this
+terrible moment, Gabriel pushed open the door, and immediately closed it
+behind him. He was alone with Morok.
+
+The lion-tamer, by a last furious effort, had almost succeeded in
+opening the door, to which Sister Martha and the orphans were clinging,
+in a fit of terror, uttering piercing cries. At the sound of Gabriel's
+footsteps, Morok turned round suddenly. Then, instead of continuing
+his attack on the closet, he sprang, with a roar and a bound, upon the
+new-comer.
+
+During this time, Sister Martha and the orphans, not knowing the
+cause of the sudden retreat of their assailant, took advantage of the
+opportunity to close and bolt the door, and thus placed themselves
+in security from a new attack. Morok, with haggard eye, and teeth
+convulsively clinched, had rushed upon Gabriel, his hands extended
+to seize him by the throat. The missionary stood the shock valiantly.
+Guessing, at a glance, the intention of his adversary, he seized him
+by the wrists as he advanced, and, holding him back, bent him down
+violently with a vigorous hand. For a second, Morok and Gabriel remained
+mute, breathless, motionless, gazing on each other; then the missionary
+strove to conquer the efforts of the madman, who, with violent jerks,
+attempted to throw himself upon him, and to seize and tear him with his
+teeth.
+
+Suddenly the lion-tamer's strength seemed to fail, his knees quivered,
+his livid head sank upon his shoulder, his eyes closed. The missionary,
+supposing that a momentary weakness had succeeded to the fit of rage,
+and that the wretch was about to fall, relaxed his hold in order to lend
+him assistance. But no sooner did he feel himself at liberty, thanks
+to his crafty device, than Morok flung himself furiously upon Gabriel.
+Surprised by this sudden attack, the latter stumbled, and at once felt
+himself clasped into the iron arms of the madman. Yet, with redoubled
+strength and energy, struggling breast to breast, foot to foot, the
+missionary in his turn succeeded in tripping up his adversary, and,
+throwing him with a vigorous effort, again seized his hands, and now
+held him down beneath his knee. Having thus completely mastered him,
+Gabriel turned his head to call for assistance, when Morok, by a
+desperate strain, succeeded in raising himself a little, and seized with
+his teeth the left arm of the missionary. At this sharp, deep, horrible
+bite, which penetrated to the very bone, Gabriel could not restrain a
+scream of anguish and horror. He strove in vain to disengage himself,
+for his arm was held fast, as in a vice, between the firm-set jaws of
+Morok.
+
+This frightful scene had lasted less time than it has taken in the
+description, when suddenly the door leading to the passage was violently
+opened, and several courageous men, who had learned from the patients
+to what danger the young priest was exposed, came rushing to his
+assistance, in spite of his recommendation not to enter till he should
+call. The attendant was amongst the number, with the brazier and the hot
+irons. Gabriel, as soon as he perceived him, said to him in an agitated
+voice: "Quick, friend! your iron. Thank God I had thought of that."
+
+One of the men who had entered the room was luckily provided with a
+blanket; and the moment the missionary succeeded in wresting his arm
+from the clinched teeth of Morok, whom he still held down with his knee,
+this blanket was thrown over the madman's head, so that he could now be
+held and bound without danger, notwithstanding his desperate resistance.
+Then Gabriel rose, tore open the sleeve of his cassock, and laying bare
+his left arm, on which a deep bite was visible, bleeding, of a bluish
+color, he beckoned the attendant to draw near, seized one of the hot
+irons, and, with a firm and sure hand, twice applied the burning metal
+to the wound, with a calm heroism which struck all the spectators, with
+admiration. But soon so many various emotions, intrepidly sustained,
+were followed by a natural reaction. Large drops of sweat stood upon
+Gabriel's brow; his long light hair clung to his temples; he grew deadly
+pale, reeled, lost his senses, and was carried into the next room to
+receive immediate attention.
+
+An accidental circumstance, likely enough to occur, had converted one
+of the Princess de Saint-Dizier's falsehoods into a truth. To induce
+the orphans to go to the hospital, she had told them Gabriel was there,
+which at the time she was far from believing. On the contrary, she would
+have wished to prevent a meeting, which, from the attachment of the
+missionary to the girls, might interfere with her projects. A little
+while after the terrible scene we have just related, Rose and Blanche,
+accompanied by Sister Martha, entered a vast room, of a strange and
+fatal aspect, containing a number of women who had suddenly been seized
+with cholera.
+
+These immense apartments, generously supplied for the purpose of a
+temporary hospital, had been furnished with excessive luxury. The room
+now occupied by the sick women, of whom we speak, had been used for
+a ball-room. The white panels glittered with sumptuous gilding, and
+magnificent pier-glasses occupied the spaces between the windows,
+through which could be seen the fresh verdure of a pleasant garden,
+smiling beneath the influence of budding May. In the midst of all
+this gilded luxury, on a rich, inlaid floor of costly woods, were seen
+arranged in regular order four rows of beds, of every shape and kind,
+from the humble truckle-bed to the handsome couch in carved mahogany.
+
+This long room was divided into two compartments by a temporary
+partition, four or five feet in height. They had thus been able to
+manage the four rows of beds. This partition finished at some little
+distance from either end of the room, so as to leave an open space
+without beds, for the volunteer attendants, when the sick did not
+require their aid. At one of these extremities of the room was a lofty
+and magnificent marble chimney piece, ornamented with gilt bronze.
+On the fire beneath, various drinks were brewing for the patients. To
+complete the singular picture, women of every class took their turns in
+attending upon the sick, to whose sighs and groans they always responded
+with consoling words of hope and pity. Such was the place, strange and
+mournful, that Rose and Blanche entered together, hand in hand, a short
+time after Gabriel had displayed such heroic courage in the struggle
+against Morok. Sister Martha accompanied Marshal Simon's daughters.
+After speaking a few words to them in a whisper, she pointed out to them
+the two divisions in which the beds were arranged, and herself went to
+the other end of the room to give some orders.
+
+The orphans, still under the impression of the terrible danger from
+which Gabriel had rescued them without their knowing it, were both
+excessively pale; yet their eyes were expressive of firm resolution.
+They had determined not only to perform what they considered an
+imperative duty, but to prove themselves worthy of their valiant father;
+they were acting too for their mother's sake, since they had been told
+that, dying in Siberia without receiving the sacrament, her eternal
+felicity might depend on the proofs they gave of Christian devotion.
+Need we add that the Princess de Saint-Dizier, following the advice of
+Rodin, had, in a second interview, skillfully brought about without the
+knowledge of Dagobert, taken advantage of the excitable qualities
+of these poor, confiding, simple, and generous souls, by a fatal
+exaggeration of the most noble and courageous sentiments. The orphans
+having asked Sister Martha if Madame Augustine du Tremblay had been
+brought to this asylum within the last three days, that person had
+answered, that she really did not know, but, if they would go through
+the women's wards, it would be easy for them to ascertain. For the
+abominable hypocrite, who, in conjunction with Rodin, had sent these
+two children to encounter a mortal peril, had told an impudent falsehood
+when she affirmed that their governess had been removed to this
+hospital. During their exile, and their toilsome journey with Dagobert,
+the sisters had been exposed to many hard trials. But never had they
+witnessed so sad a spectacle as that which now offered itself to their
+view.
+
+The long row of beds, on which so many poor creatures writhed in agony,
+some uttering deep groans, some only a dull rattle in the throat, some
+raving in the delirium of fever, or calling on those from whom they were
+about to part forever--these frightful sights and sounds, which are
+too much even for brave men, would inevitably, (such was the execrable
+design of Rodin and his accomplices) make a fatal impression on these
+young girls, urged by the most generous motives to undertake this
+perilous visit. And then--sad memory! which awoke, in all its deep and
+poignant bitterness, by the side of the first beds they came to--it was
+of this very malady, the Cholera, that their mother had died a painful
+death. Fancy the twins entering this vast room, of so fearful an
+aspect, and, already much shaken by the terror which Morok had inspired,
+pursuing their search in the midst of these unfortunate creatures, whose
+dying pangs reminded them every instant of the dying agony of their
+mother! For a moment, at sight of the funeral hall, Rose and Blanche had
+felt their resolution fail them. A black presentiment made them regret
+their heroic imprudence; and, moreover, since several minutes they had
+begun to feel an icy shudder, and painful shootings across the temples;
+but, attributing these symptoms to the fright occasioned by Morok, their
+good and valiant natures soon stifled all these fears. They exchanged
+glances of affection, their courage revived, and both of them--Rose
+on one side of the partition, and Blanche on the other--proceeded with
+their painful task. Gabriel, carried to the doctors' private room, had
+soon recovered his senses. Thanks to his courage and presence of mind,
+his wound, cauterized in time, could have no dangerous consequences.
+As soon as it was dressed he insisted on returning to the women's ward,
+where he had be offering pious consolations to a dying person at the
+moment they had come to inform him of the frightful danger caused by the
+escape of Morok.
+
+A few minutes before the missionary entered the room, Rose and Blanche
+arrived almost together at the term of their mournful search, one from
+the left, the other from the right-hand row of beds, separated by the
+partition which divided the hall into compartments. The sisters had not
+yet seen each other. Their steps tottered as they advanced, and they
+were forced, from time to time, to lean against the beds as they passed
+along. Their strength was--rapidly failing them. Giddy with fear and
+pain, they appeared to act almost mechanically. Alas! the orphans had
+been seized almost at the same moment with the terrible symptoms of
+cholera. In consequence of that species of physiological phenomenon, of
+which we have already spoken--a phenomenon by no means rare in twins,
+which had already been displayed on one or two occasions of their
+sickness--their organizations seemed liable to the same sensations, the
+same simultaneous accidents, like two flowers on one stem, which bloom
+and fade together. The sight of so much suffering, and so many deaths,
+had accelerated the development of this dreadful disease. Already, on
+their agitated and altered countenances, they bore the mortal tokens of
+the contagion, as they came forth, each on her own side, from the
+two subdivisions of the room in which they had vainly sought their
+governess. Until now separated by the partition, Rose and Blanche had
+not yet seen each other; but, when at length their eyes met, there
+ensued a heart rending scene.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII. THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
+
+To the charming freshness of the sisters' faces had succeeded a livid
+pallor. Their large blue eyes, now hollow and sunk in, appeared of
+enormous dimensions. Their lips, once so rosy, were now suffused with a
+violet hue, and a similar color was gradually displacing the transparent
+carmine of their cheeks and fingers. It was as if all the roses in their
+charming countenances were fading and turning blue before the icy blast
+of death.
+
+When the orphans met, tottering and hardly able to sustain themselves,
+a cry of mutual horror burst from their lips. Each of them exclaimed, at
+sight of the fearful change in her sister's features. "Are you also ill,
+sister?" And then, bursting into tears, they threw themselves into each
+other's arms, and looked anxiously at one another.
+
+"Good heaven, Rose! how pale you are!"
+
+"Like you, sister."
+
+"And do you feel a cold shudder?"
+
+"Yes, and my sight fails me."
+
+"My bosom is all on fire."
+
+"Sister, we are perhaps going to die."
+
+"Let it only be together!"
+
+"And our poor father?"
+
+"And Dagobert?"
+
+"Sister, our dream has come true!" cried Rose, almost deliriously, as
+she threw her arms round Blanche's neck. "Look! look! the Angel Gabriel
+is here to fetch us."
+
+Indeed, at this moment, Gabriel entered the open space at the end of the
+room. "Heaven! what do I see?" cried the young priest. "The daughters of
+Marshal Simon!"
+
+And, rushing forward, he received the sisters in his arms, for they were
+no longer able to stand. Already their drooping heads, their half-closed
+eyes, their painful and difficult breathing, announced the approach of
+death. Sister Martha was close at hand. She hastened to respond to the
+call of Gabriel. Aided by this pious woman, he was able to lift the
+orphans upon a bed reserved for the doctor in attendance. For fear that
+the sight of this mournful agony should make too deep an impression on
+the other patients, Sister Martha drew a large curtain, and the sisters
+were thus in some sort walled off from the rest of the room. Their hands
+had been so tightly clasped together, during a nervous paroxysm, that it
+was impossible to separate them. It was in this position that the first
+remedies were applied--remedies incapable of conquering the violence
+of the disease, but which at least mitigated for a few moments the
+excessive pains they suffered, and restored some faint glimmer of
+perception to their obscured and troubled senses. At this moment,
+Gabriel was leaning over the bed with a look of inexpressible grief.
+With breaking heart, and face bathed in tears, he thought of the strange
+destiny, which thus made him a witness of the death of these girls, his
+relations, whom but a few months before he had rescued from the horrors
+of the tempest. In spite of his firmness of soul, the missionary could
+not help shuddering as he reflected on the fate of the orphans, the
+death of Jacques Rennepont, and the fearful devices by which M. Hardy,
+retired to the cloistered solitude of St. Herein, had become a member
+of the Society of Jesus almost in dying. The missionary said to himself,
+that already four members of the Rennepont family--his family--had been
+successively struck down by some dreadful fate; and he asked himself
+with alarm, how it was that the detestable interests of the Society of
+Loyola should be served by a providential fatality? The astonishment of
+the young missionary would have given place to the deepest horror, could
+he have known the part that Rodin and his accomplices had taken, both
+in the death of Jacques Rennepont, by exciting, through Morok, the evil
+propensities of the artisan, and in the approaching end of Rose and
+Blanche, by converting, through the Princess de Saint-Dizier, the
+generous inspirations of the orphans into suicidal heroism.
+
+Roused for a moment from the painful stupor in which they had been
+plunged, Rose and Blanche half-opened their large eyes, already dull
+and faded. Then, more and more bewildered they both gazed fixedly at the
+angelic countenance of Gabriel.
+
+"Sister," said Rose, in a faint voice, "do you see the archangel--as in
+our dreams, in Germany?"
+
+"Yes--three days ago--he appeared to us."
+
+"He is come to fetch us."
+
+"Alas! will our death save our poor mother from purgatory?"
+
+"Angel! blessed angel! pray God for our mother--and for us!" Until
+now, stupefied with amazement and sorrow, almost suffocated with sobs,
+Gabriel had not been able to utter a word. But at these words of the
+orphans, he exclaimed: "Dear children, why doubt of your mother's
+salvation? Oh! never did a purer soul ascend to its Creator. Your
+mother? I know from my adopted father, that her virtues and courage
+were the admiration of all who knew her. Oh! believe me; God has blessed
+her."
+
+"Do you hear, sister?" cried Rose, as a ray of celestial joy illumined
+for an instant the livid faces of the orphans. "God has blessed our
+mother."
+
+"Yes, yes," resumed Gabriel; "banish these gloomy ideas. Take courage,
+poor children! You must not die. Think of your father."
+
+"Our father?" said Blanche, shuddering; and she continued, with a
+mixture of reason and wild excitement, which would have touched the
+soul of the most indifferent: "Alas! he will not find us on his return.
+Forgive us, father! we did not think to do any harm. We wished, like
+you, to do something generous--to help our governess."
+
+"And we did not think to die so quickly, and so soon. Yesterday, we were
+gay and happy."
+
+"Oh, good angel! you will appear to our father, even as you have
+appeared to us. You will tell him that, in dying--the last thought of
+his children--was of him."
+
+"We came here without Dagobert's knowing it--do not let our father scold
+him."
+
+"Blessed angel!" resumed the other sister in a still more feeble voice;
+"appear to Dagobert, also. Tell him, that we ask his forgiveness, for
+the grief our death will occasion him."
+
+"And let our old friend caress our poor Spoil-sport for us--our faithful
+guardian," added Blanche, trying to smile.
+
+"And then," resumed Rose, in a voice that was growing still fainter,
+"promise to appear to two other persons, that have been so kind to
+us--good Mother Bunch--and the beautiful Lady Adrienne."
+
+"We forget none whom we have loved," said Blanche, with a last effort.
+"Now, God grant we may go to our mother, never to leave her more!"
+
+"You promised it good angel--you know you did--in the dream. You said
+to us: 'Poor children--come from so far--you will have traversed the
+earth--to rest on the maternal bosom!'"
+
+"Oh! it is dreadful--dreadful! So young--and no hope!" murmured Gabriel,
+as he buried his face in his hands. "Almighty Father! Thy views are
+impenetrable. Alas! yet why should these children die this cruel death?"
+
+Rose heaved a deep sigh and said in an expiring tone: "Let us be buried
+together!--united in life, in death not divided--"
+
+And the two turned their dying looks upon Gabriel, and stretched out
+towards him their supplicating hands.
+
+"Oh, blessed martyrs to a generous devotion!" cried the missionary,
+raising to heaven his eyes streaming with tears. "Angelic souls!
+treasures of innocence and truth! ascend, ascend to heaven--since God
+calls you to him, and the earth is not worthy to possess you!"
+
+"Sister! father!" were the last words that the orphans pronounced with
+their dying voices.
+
+And then the twins, by a last instinctive impulse, endeavored to clasp
+each other, and their eyes half-opened to exchange yet another glance.
+They shuddered twice or thrice, their limbs stiffened, a deep sigh
+struggled from their violet-colored lips. Rose and Blanche were both
+dead! Gabriel and Sister Martha, after closing the eyes of the orphans,
+knelt down to pray by the side of that funeral couch. Suddenly a
+great tumult was heard in the room. Rapid footsteps, mingled with
+imprecations, sounded close at hand, the curtain was drawn aside from
+this mournful scene, and Dagobert entered precipitately, pale, haggard,
+his dress in disorder. At sight of Gabriel and the Sister of Charity
+kneeling beside the corpses of his children, the soldier uttered a
+terrible roar, and tried to advance--but in vain--for, before Gabriel
+could reach him, Dagobert fell flat on the ground, and his gray head
+struck violently on the floor.
+
+It is night--a dark and stormy night. One o'clock in the morning has
+just sounded from the church of Montmartre. It is to the cemetery of
+Montmartre that is carried the coffin which, according to the last
+wishes of Rose and Blanche contains them both. Through the thick shadow,
+which rests upon that field of death, may be seen moving a pale light.
+It is the gravedigger. He advances with caution; a dark lantern is in
+his hand. A man wrapped in a cloak accompanies him. He holds down his
+head and weeps. It is Samuel. The old Jew--the keeper of the house
+in the Rue Saint-Francois. On the night of the funeral of Jacques
+Rennepont, the first who died of the seven heirs, and who was buried
+in another cemetery, Samuel had a similar mysterious interview with the
+gravedigger, to obtain a favor at the price of gold. A strange and awful
+favor! After passing down several paths, bordered with cypress trees, by
+the side of many tombs, the Jew and the gravedigger arrived, at a little
+glade, situated near the western wall of the cemetery. The night was so
+dark, that scarcely anything could be seen. After moving his lantern up
+and down, and all about, the gravedigger showed Samuel, at the foot of a
+tall yew-tree, with long black branches, a little mound of newly-raised
+earth, and said: "It is here."
+
+"You are sure of it?"
+
+"Yes, yes--two bodies in one coffin! it is not such a common thing."
+
+"Alas! two in the same coffin!" said the Jew, with a deep sigh.
+
+"Now that you know the place, what do you want more?" asked the
+gravedigger.
+
+Samuel did not answer. He fell on his knees, and piously kissed
+the little mound. Then rising, with his cheeks bathed in tears, he
+approached the gravedigger, and spoke to him for some moments in a
+whisper--though they were alone, and in the centre of that deserted
+place. Then began between those two men a mysterious dialogue, which the
+night enveloped in shade and silence. The gravedigger, alarmed at what
+Samuel asked him, at first refused his request.
+
+But the Jew, employing persuasions, entreaties, tears, and at last the
+seduction of the jingling gold, succeeded in conquering the scruples of
+the gravedigger. Though the latter trembled at the thought of what he
+promised, he said to Samuel in an agitated tone: "To-morrow night, then,
+at two o'clock."
+
+"I shall be behind the wall," answered Samuel, pointing out the place
+with the aid of a lantern. "I will throw three stones into the cemetery,
+for a signal."
+
+"Yes, three stones--as a signal," replied the gravedigger shuddering,
+and wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
+
+With considerable remains of vigor, notwithstanding his great age,
+Samuel availed himself of the broken surface of the low wall, and
+climbing over it, soon disappeared. The gravedigger returned home with
+hasty strides. From time to time, he looked fearfully behind him, as
+though he had been pursued by some fatal vision.
+
+On the evening after the funeral of Rose and Blanche, Rodin wrote two
+letters. The first, addressed to his mysterious correspondent at Rome,
+alluded to the deaths of Jacques Rennepont, and Rose and Blanche Simon,
+as well as to the cession of M. Hardy's property, and the donation
+of Gabriel--events which reduced the claimants of the inheritance to
+two--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Djalma. This first note written by Rodin
+for Rome, contained only the following words: "Five from seven leaves
+two. Announce this result to the Cardinal-Prince. Let him go on. I
+advance advance-advance!" The second note, in a feigned hand, was
+addressed to Marshal Simon, to be delivered by a sure messenger,
+contained these few lines: "If there is yet time, make haste to return.
+Your daughters are both dead. You shall learn who killed them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII. RUIN.
+
+It is the day after the death of Marshal Simon's daughters. Mdlle. de
+Cardoville is yet ignorant of the sad end of her young relatives. Her
+countenance is radiant with happiness, and never has she looked more
+beautiful; her eye has never been more brilliant, her complexion more
+dazzling white, her lip of a richer coral. According to her somewhat
+eccentric custom of dressing herself in her own house in a picturesque
+style, Adrienne wears to-day, though it is about three o'clock in the
+afternoon, a pale green watered-silk dress, with a very full skirt, the
+sleeves and bodice slashed with rose-colored ribbon, and adorned with
+white bugle-beads, of exquisite workmanship; while a slender network,
+also of white bugle-beads, concealing the thick plait of Adrienne's
+back hair, forms an oriental head-dress of charming originality, and
+contrasts agreeably with the long curls which fall in front almost to
+the swell of the bosom. To the expression of indescribable happiness
+which marks the features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, is added a certain
+resolute, cutting, satirical air, which is not habitual to her. Her
+charming head, and graceful, swan-like neck, are raised in an attitude
+of defiance; her small, rose-colored nostrils seem to dilate with
+ill-repressed ardor, and she waits with haughty impatience for the
+moment of an aggressive and ironical interview. Not far from Adrienne is
+Mother Bunch. She has resumed in the house the place which she at first
+occupied. The young sempstress is in mourning for her sister, but her
+countenance is expressive of a mild, calm sorrow. She looks at Mdlle. de
+Cardoville with surprise; for never, till now, has she seen the features
+of the fair patrician impressed with such a character of ironical
+audacity. Mdlle. de Cardoville was exempt from the slightest coquetry,
+in the narrow and ordinary sense of the word. Yet she now cast an
+inquiring look at the glass before which she was standing, and, having
+restored the elastic smoothness to one of her long, golden curls, by
+rolling it for a moment round her ivory finger, she carefully effaced
+with her hands some almost imperceptible folds, which had formed
+themselves in the thick material of her elegant corsage. This movement,
+and that of turning her back to the glass, to see if her dress sat
+perfectly on all points, revealed, in serpentine undulations, all the
+charms and graces of her light and elegant figure; for, in spite of the
+rich fulness of her shoulders, white and firm as sculptured alabaster,
+Adrienne belonged to that class of privileged persons, who are able at
+need to make a girdle out of a garter.
+
+Having performed, with indescribable grace, these charming evolutions of
+feminine coquetry, Adrienne turned towards Mother Bunch, whose surprise
+was still on the increase, and said to her, smiling: "My dear Magdalen,
+do not laugh at my question--but what would you say to a picture, that
+should represent me as I am now?"
+
+"Why, lady--"
+
+"There you are again, with your lady-ing," said Adrienne, in a tone of
+gentle reproach.
+
+"Well, then, Adrienne," resumed Mother Bunch, "I think it would be a
+charming picture, for you are dressed, as usual with perfect taste."
+
+"But am I not better dressed than on other days, my dear poetess? I
+began by telling you that I do not ask the question for my own sake,"
+said Adrienne, gayly.
+
+"Well, I suppose so," replied Mother Bunch, with a faint smile. "It is
+certainly impossible to imagine anything that would suit you better. The
+light green and the pale rose-color, with the soft lustre of the white
+ornaments, harmonize so well with your golden hair, that I cannot
+conceive, I tell you, a more graceful picture."
+
+The speaker felt what she said, and she was happy to be able to express
+it, for we know the intense admiration of that poetic soul for all that
+was beautiful.
+
+"Well!" went on Adrienne, gayly, "I am glad, my dear, that you find me
+better dressed than usual."
+
+"Only," said the hunchback, hesitating.
+
+"Only?" repeated Adrienne, looking at her with an air of interrogation.
+
+"Why, only," continued the other, "if I have never seen you look more
+pretty, I have also never observed in your features the resolute and
+ironical expression which they had just now. It was like an air of
+impatient defiance."
+
+"And so it was, my dear little Magdalen," said Adrienne, throwing her
+arms round the girl's neck with joyous tenderness. "I must kiss you, for
+having guessed it. You see, I expect a visit from my dear aunt."
+
+"The Princess de Saint-Dizier?" cried Mother Bunch, in alarm. "That
+wicked lady, who did you so much evil?"
+
+"The very same. She has asked for an interview, and I shall be delighted
+to receive her."
+
+"Delighted?"
+
+"Yes--a somewhat ironical and malicious delight, it is true," answered
+Adrienne, still more gayly. "You shall judge for yourself. She regrets
+her gallantries, her beauty, her youth--even her size afflicts the
+holy woman!--and she will see me young, fair, beloved--and above all
+thin--yes, thin," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, laughing merrily. "And you
+may imagine, my dear, how much envy and despair, the sight of a young,
+thin woman excites in a stout one of a certain age!"
+
+"My friend," said Mother Bunch, gravely, "you speak in jest. And yet, I
+know not why, the coming of this princess alarms me."
+
+"Dear, gentle soul, be satisfied!" answered Adrienne, affectionately. "I
+do not fear this woman--I no longer have any fear of her--and to prove
+it to her confusion, I will treat her--a monster of hypocrisy and
+wickedness, who comes here, no doubt, on some abominable design--I will
+treat her as an inoffensive, ridiculous fat woman!" And Adrienne again
+laughed.
+
+A servant here entered the room, and interrupted the mirth of Adrienne,
+by saying: "The Princess de Saint-Dizier wishes to know if you can
+receive her?"
+
+"Certainly," said Mdlle. de Cardoville; and the servant retired. Mother
+Bunch was about to rise and quit the room; but Adrienne held her back,
+and said to her, taking her hand with an air of serious tenderness:
+"Stay, my dear friend, I entreat you."
+
+"Do you wish it?"
+
+"Yes; I wish--still in revenge, you know," said Adrienne, with a smile,
+"to prove to her highness of Saint-Dizier, that I have an affectionate
+friend--that I have, in fact, every happiness."
+
+"But, Adrienne," replied the other, timidly, "consider--"
+
+"Silence! here is the princess. Remain! I ask it as a favor. The
+instinct of your heart will discover any snare she may have laid. Did
+not your affection warn me of the plots of Rodin?"
+
+Mother Bunch could not refuse such a request. She remained, but was
+about to draw back from the fireplace. Adrienne, however, took her by
+the hand, and made her resume her seat in the arm-chair, saying: "My
+dear Magdalen, keep your place. You owe nothing to the lady. With me it
+is different; she comes to my house."
+
+Hardly had Adrienne uttered these words, than the princess entered with
+head erect, and haughty air (we have said, she could carry herself most
+loftily), and advanced with a firm step. The strongest minds have their
+side of puerile weakness; a savage envy, excited by the elegance, wit,
+and beauty of Adrienne, bore a large part in the hatred of the princess
+for her niece; and though it was idle to think of eclipsing Adrienne,
+and the Princess de Saint-Dizier did not seriously mean to attempt it,
+she could not forbear, in preparing for the interview she had demanded,
+taking more pains even than usual in the arrangement of her dress.
+Beneath her robe of shot silk, she was laced in and tightened to
+excess--a pressure which considerably increased the color in her cheeks.
+The throng of jealous and hateful sentiments, which inspired her with
+regard to Adrienne, had so troubled the clearness of her ordinarily calm
+judgment, that, instead of the plain and quiet style, in which, as a
+woman of tact and taste, she was generally attired, she now committed
+the folly of wearing a dress of changing hues, and a crimson hat,
+adorned with a magnificent bird of paradise. Hate, envy, the pride of
+triumph--for she thought of the skillful perfidy with which she had
+sent to almost certain death the daughters of Marshal Simon--and the
+execrable hope of succeeding in new plots, were all expressed in the
+countenance of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, as she entered her niece's
+apartment.
+
+Without advancing to meet her aunt, Adrienne rose politely from the sofa
+on which she was seated, made a half-curtsey, full of grace and dignity,
+and immediately resumed her former posture. Then, pointing to an arm
+chair near the fireplace, at one corner of which sat Mother Bunch, and
+she herself at the other, she said: "Pray sit down, your highness."
+The princess turned very red, remained standing, and cast a disdainful
+glance of insolent surprise at the sempstress, who, in compliance with
+Adrienne's wish, only bowed slightly at the entrance of the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier, without offering to give up her place. In acting thus, the
+young sempstress followed the dictates of her conscience, which told her
+that the real superiority did not belong to this base, hypocritical, and
+wicked princess, but rather to such a person as herself, the admirable
+and devoted friend.
+
+"Let me beg your highness to sit down," resumed Adrienne, in a mild
+tone, as she pointed to the vacant chair.
+
+"The interview I have demanded, niece," said the princess "must be a
+private one."
+
+"I have no secrets, madame, from my best friend; you may speak in the
+presence of this young lady."
+
+"I have long known," replied Madame de Saint-Dizier, with bitter irony,
+"that in all things you care little for secrecy, and that you are easy
+in the choice of what you call your friends. But you will permit me to
+act differently from you. If you have no secrets, madame, I have--and I
+do not choose to confide them to the first comer."
+
+So saying, the pious lady glanced contemptuously at the sempstress. The
+latter, hurt at the insolent tone of the princess, answered mildly and
+simply:
+
+"I do not see what can be the great difference between the first and the
+last comer to Mdlle. de Cardoville's."
+
+"What! can it speak!" cried the princess, insolently.
+
+"It can at least answer, madame," replied Mother Bunch, in her calm
+voice.
+
+"I wish to see you alone, niece--is that clear?" said the princess,
+impatiently, to her niece.
+
+"I beg your pardon, but I do not quite understand your highness," said
+Adrienne, with an air of surprise. "This young lady, who honors me with
+her friendship, is willing to be present at this interview, which you
+have asked for--I say she has consented to be present, for it needs,
+I confess, the kindest condescension in her to resign herself, from
+affection for me, to hear all the graceful, obliging, and charming
+things which you have no doubt come hither to communicate."
+
+"Madame--" began the princess, angrily.
+
+"Permit me to interrupt your highness," returned Adrienne, in a tone
+of perfect amenity, as if she were addressing the most flattering
+compliments to her visitor. "To put you quite at your ease with the lady
+here, I will begin by informing you that she is quite aware of all the
+holy perfidies, pious wrongs, and devout infamies, of which you nearly
+made me the victim. She knows that you are a mother of the Church, such
+as one sees but few of in these days. May I hope, therefore, that your
+highness will dispense with this delicate and interesting reserve?"
+
+"Really," said the princess, with a sort of incensed amazement, "I
+scarcely know if I wake or sleep."
+
+"Dear me!" said Adrienne, in apparent alarm; "this doubt as to the state
+of your faculties is very shocking, madame. I see that the blood flies
+to your head, for your face sufficiently shows it; you seem oppressed,
+confined, uncomfortable--perhaps (we women may say so between
+ourselves), perhaps you are laced a little too tightly, madame?"
+
+These words, pronounced by Adrienne with an air of warm interest and
+perfect simplicity, almost choked the princess with rage. She became
+crimson, seated herself abruptly, and exclaimed: "Be it so, madame! I
+prefer this reception to any other. It puts me at my ease, as you say."
+
+"Does it indeed, madame?" said Adrienne, with a smile. "You may now at
+least speak frankly all that you feel, which must for you have the charm
+of novelty! Confess that you are obliged to me for enabling you, even
+for a moment, to lay aside that mask of piety, amiability, and goodness,
+which must be so troublesome to you."
+
+As she listened to the sarcasms of Adrienne (an innocent and excusable
+revenge, if we consider all the wrongs she had suffered), Mother Bunch
+felt her heart sink within her; for she dreaded the malignity of the
+princess, who replied, with the utmost calmness: "A thousand thanks,
+madame, for your excellent intentions and sentiments. I appreciate them
+as I ought, and I hope in a short time to prove it to you."
+
+"Well, madame," said Adrienne, playfully, "let us have it all at once. I
+am full of impatient curiosity."
+
+"And yet," said the princess, feigning in her turn a bitter and ironical
+delight, "you are far from having the least notion of what I am about to
+announce to you."
+
+"Indeed! I fear that your highness's candor and modesty deceive you,"
+replied Adrienne, with the same mocking affability; "for there are very
+few things on your part that can surprise me, madame. You must be aware
+that from your highness, I am prepared for anything."
+
+"Perhaps, madame," said the princess, laying great stress on her
+words, "if, for instance, I were to tell you that within twenty-four
+hours--suppose between this and to-morrow-thou will be reduced to
+poverty--"
+
+This was so unexpected, that Mdlle. de Cardoville started in spite of
+herself, and Mother Bunch shuddered.
+
+"Ah, madame!" said the princess, with triumphant joy and cruel mildness,
+as she watched the growing surprise of her niece, "confess that I have
+astonished you a little. You were right in giving to our interview the
+turn it has taken. I should have needed all sorts of circumlocution to
+say to you, 'Niece, to-morrow you will be as poor as you are rich to
+day.' But now I can tell you the fact quite plainly and simply."
+
+Recovering from her first amazement, Adrienne replied, with a calm
+smile, which checked the joy of the princess: "Well, I confess frankly,
+madame, that you have surprised me; I expected from you one of those
+black pieces of malignity, one of those well-laid plots, in which you
+are known to excel, and I did not think you would make all this fuss
+about such a trifle."
+
+"To be ruined--completely ruined," cried the princess, "and that by to
+morrow--you that have been so prodigal, will see your house, furniture,
+horses, jewels, even the ridiculous dresses of which you are so vain,
+all taken from you--do you call that a trifle? You, that spend with
+indifference thousands of louis, will be reduced to a pension inferior
+to the wages you gave your foot-boy--do you call that a trifle?"
+
+To her aunt's cruel disappointment, Adrienne, who appeared quite to have
+recovered her serenity was about to answer accordingly, when the door
+suddenly opened, and, without being announced, Prince Djalma entered the
+room. A proud and tender expression of delight beamed from the radiant
+brow of Adrienne at sight of the prince, and it is impossible to
+describe the look of triumphant happiness and high disdain that she cast
+upon the Princess de Saint-Dizier. Djalma himself had never looked more
+handsome, and never had more intense happiness been impressed on a human
+countenance. The Hindoo wore a long robe of white Cashmere, adorned with
+innumerable stripes of gold and purple; his turban was of the same color
+and material; a magnificent figured shawl was twisted about his waist.
+On seeing the Indian, whom she had not hoped to meet at Mdlle. de
+Cardoville's, the Princess de Saint-Dizier could not at first conceal
+her extreme surprise. It was between these four, then, that the
+following scene took place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX. MEMORIES.
+
+Djalma, having never before met the Princess de Saint-Dizier at
+Adrienne's, at first appeared rather astonished at her presence. The
+princess, keeping silence for a moment, contemplated with implacable
+hatred and envy those two beings, both so fair and young, so loving and
+happy. Suddenly she started, as if she had just remembered something of
+great importance, and for some seconds she remained absorbed in thought.
+
+Adrienne and Djalma availed themselves of this interval to gaze fondly
+on each other, with a sort of ardent idolatry, which filled their eyes
+with sweet tears. Then, at a movement of the Princess de Saint-Dizier,
+who seemed to rouse herself from her momentary trance, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville said to the young prince, with a smile: "My dear cousin, I
+have to repair an omission (voluntary, I confess, and for good reasons),
+in never having before mentioned to you one of my relations, whom I have
+now the honor to present to you. The Princess de Saint-Dizier!"
+
+Djalma bowed; but Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed, just as her aunt was
+about to make some reply: "Her Highness of Saint-Dizier came very kindly
+to inform me of an event which is a most fortunate one for me, and of
+which I will speak to you hereafter, cousin--unless this amiable
+lady should wish to deprive me of the pleasure of making such a
+communication."
+
+The unexpected arrival of the prince, and the recollections which had
+suddenly occurred to the princess, had no doubt greatly modified her
+first plans: for, instead of continuing the conversation with regard
+to Adrienne's threatened loss of fortune, the princess answered, with a
+bland smile, that covered an odious meaning: "I should be sorry, prince,
+to deprive my dear and amiable niece of the pleasure of announcing to
+you the happy news to which she alludes, and which, as a near relative,
+I lost no time in communicating to her. I have here some notes on this
+subject," added the princess, delivering a paper to Adrienne, "which I
+hope will prove, to her entire satisfaction, the reality of what I have
+announced to her."
+
+"A thousand thanks, my dear aunt," said Adrienne, receiving the paper
+with perfect indifference; "these precautions and proofs are quite
+superfluous. You know that I always believe you on your word, when it
+concerns your good feeling towards myself."
+
+Notwithstanding his ignorance of the refined perfidy and cruel
+politeness of civilized life, Djalma, endowed with a tact and fineness
+of perception common to most natures of extreme susceptibility, felt
+some degree of mental discomfort as he listened to this exchange of
+false compliments. He could not guess their full meaning, but they
+sounded hollow to his ear; and moreover, whether from instinct or
+presentiment, he had conceived a vague dislike for the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier. That pious lady, full of the great affair in hand, was a
+prey to the most violent agitation, which betrayed itself in the growing
+color of her cheeks, her bitter smile, and the malicious brightness of
+her glance. As he gazed on this woman, Djalma was unable to conquer
+his rising antipathy, and he remained silent and attentive, whilst his
+handsome countenance lost something of its former serenity. Mother Bunch
+also felt the influence of a painful impression. She glanced in terror
+at the princess, and then imploringly at Adrienne, as though she
+entreated the latter to but an end to an interview of which the young
+sempstress foresaw the fatal consequences. But, unfortunately, the
+Princess de Saint-Dizier was too much interested in prolonging this
+conversation; and Mdlle. de Cardoville, gathering new courage and
+confidence from the presence of the man she adored, took delight in
+vexing the princess with the exhibition of their happy love.
+
+After a short silence, the Princess de Saint-Dizier observed, in a soft
+and insinuating tone: "Really, prince, you cannot think how pleased I
+was to learn by public report (for people talk of nothing else, and
+with good reason) of your chivalrous attachment to my dear niece; for,
+without knowing it, you will extricate me from a difficult position."
+
+Djalma made no answer, but he looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with a
+surprised and almost sorrowful air, as if to ask what her aunt meant to
+insinuate.
+
+The latter, not perceiving this mute interrogation, resumed as follows:
+"I will express myself more clearly, prince. You can understand that,
+being the nearest relative of this dear, obstinate girl, I am more or
+less responsible for her conduct in the eyes of the world; and you,
+prince, seem just to have arrived on purpose, from the end of the
+earth, to take charge of a destiny which had caused me considerable
+apprehension. It is charming, it is excellent; and I know not which
+most to admire, your courage or your good fortune." The princess threw a
+glance of diabolical malice at Adrienne, and awaited her answer with an
+air of defiance.
+
+"Listen to our good aunt, my dear cousin," said the young lady, smiling
+calmly. "Since our affectionate kinswoman sees you and me united and
+happy, her heart is swelling with such a flood of joy, that it must run
+over, and the effects will be delightful. Only have a little patience,
+and you will behold them in their full beauty. I do not know,"
+added Adrienne, in the most natural tone, "why, in thinking of these
+outpourings of our dear aunt's affection, I should remember what you
+told me, cousin, of a certain viper in your country which sometimes,
+in a powerless bite, breaks its fangs, and, absorbing its own venom,
+becomes the victim of the poison it distills. Come, my dear aunt, you
+that had so good and noble a heart, I am sure you must feel interested
+in the fate of those poor vipers."
+
+The princess darted an implacable look at her niece, and replied, in an
+agitated voice, "I do not see the object of this selection of natural
+history. Do you, prince?"
+
+Djalma made no answer; leaning with his arm on the mantelpiece, he threw
+dark and piercing glances upon the princess. His involuntary hatred of
+this woman filled his heart.
+
+"Ah, my dear aunt!" resumed Adrienne, in a tone of self-reproach; "have
+I presumed too much on the goodness of your heart? Have you not even
+sympathy for vipers? For whom, then, have you any? After all, I can very
+well understand it," added Adrienne, as if to herself; "vipers are so
+thin. But, to lay aside these follies," she continued, gayly, as she
+saw the ill-repressed rage of the pious woman, "tell us at once, my dear
+aunt, all the tender things which the sight of our happiness inspires."
+
+"I hope to do so, my amiable niece. First, I must congratulate this dear
+prince, on having come so far to take charge, in all confidence, and
+with his eyes shut, of you, my poor child, whom we were obliged to
+confine as mad, in order to give a decent color to your excesses. You
+remember the handsome lad, that we found in your apartment. You cannot
+be so faithless, as already to have forgotten his name? He was a fine,
+youth, and a poet--one Agricola Baudoin--and was discovered in a secret
+place, attached to your bed-chamber. All Paris was amused with the
+scandal--for you are not about to marry an unknown person, dear prince;
+her name has been in every mouth."
+
+At these unexpected and dreadful words, Adrienne, Djalma, and Mother
+Bunch, though under the influence of different kinds of resentment,
+remained for a moment mute with surprise; and the princess, judging it
+no longer necessary to repress her infernal joy and triumphant hatred,
+exclaimed, as she rose from her seat, with flushed cheek, and flashing
+eyes, "Yes, I defy you to contradict me. Were we not forced to confine
+you, on the plea of madness? And did we not find a workman (your lover)
+concealed in your bedroom?"
+
+On this horrible accusation, Djalma's golden complexion, transparent as
+amber, became suddenly the color of lead; his eyes, fixed and staring
+showed the white round the pupil--his upper lip, red as blood,
+was curled in a kind of wild convulsion, which exposed to view the
+firmly-set teeth--and his whole countenance became so frightfully
+threatening and ferocious, that Mother Bunch shuddered with terror.
+Carried away by the ardor of his blood, the young Oriental felt a sort
+of dizzy, unreflecting, involuntary rage--a fiery commotion, like that
+which makes the blood leap to the brave man's eyes and brain, when he
+feels a blow upon his face. If, during that moment, rapid as the passage
+of the lightning through the cloud, action could have taken the place of
+thought, the princess and Adrienne, Mother Bunch and himself, would all
+have been annihilated by an explosion as sudden and fatal as that of
+the bursting of a mine. He would have killed the princess, because she
+accused Adrienne of infamous deception he would have killed Adrienne,
+because she could even be suspected of such infamy--and Mother Bunch,
+for being a witness of the accusation--and himself, in order not to
+survive such horrid treachery. But, oh wonder! his furious and bloodshot
+gaze met the calm look of Adrienne--a look so full of dignity and serene
+confidence--and the expression of ferocious rage passed away like a
+flash of lightning.
+
+Much more: to the great surprise of the princess and the young workgirl,
+as the glances which Djalma cast upon Adrienne went (as it were) deeper
+into that pure soul, not only did the Indian grow calm, but, by a
+kind of transfiguration, his countenance seemed to borrow her serene
+expression, and reflect, as in a mirror, the noble serenity impressed
+on the young lady's features. Let us explain physically this moral
+revolution, as consoling to the terrified workgirl, as provoking to the
+princess. Hardly had the princess distilled the atrocious calumny from
+her venomous lips, than Djalma, then standing before the fireplace, had,
+in the first paroxysm of his fury, advanced a step towards her;
+but, wishing as it were to moderate his rage, he held by the marble
+chimney-piece, which he grasped with iron strength. A convulsive
+trembling shook his whole body, and his features, altered and
+contracted, became almost frightful. Adrienne, on her part, when she
+heard the accusation, yielding to a first impulse of just indignation,
+even as Djalma had yielded to one of blind fury, rose abruptly, with
+offended pride flashing from her eyes; but, almost immediately appeased
+by the consciousness of her own purity, her charming face resumed its
+expression of adorable serenity. It was then that her eyes met Djalma's.
+For a second, the young lady was even more afflicted than terrified
+at the threatening and formidable expression of the young Indian's
+countenance. "Can stupid indignity exasperate him to this degree?" said
+Adrienne to herself. "Does he suspect me; then?"
+
+But to this reflection, as rapid as it was painful, succeeded the most
+lively joy, when the eyes of Adrienne rested for a short time on those
+of the Indian, and she saw his agitated countenance grow calm as if
+by magic, and become radiant and beautiful as before. Thus was the
+abominable plot of the princess de Saint-Dizier utterly confounded by
+the sincere and confiding expression of Adrienne's face. That was not
+all. At the moment, when, as a spectator of this mute and expressive
+scene (which proved so well the wondrous sympathy of those two beings,
+who, without speaking a word, had understood and satisfied each other),
+the princess was choking with rage and vexation--Adrienne, with a
+charming smile and gesture, extended her fair hand to Djalma, who,
+kneeling, imprinted on it a kiss of fire, which sent a light blush to
+the forehead of the young lady.
+
+Then the Hindoo, placing himself on the ermine carpet at the feet of
+Mdlle. de Cardoville, in an attitude full of grace: and respect, rested
+his chin on the palm of one of his hands, and gazed on her silently, in
+a sort of mute adoration--while Adrienne, bending over him with a happy
+smile "looked at the babies in his eyes," as the song says, with as much
+amorous complacency, as if the hateful princess had not been present.
+But soon, as if something were wanting to complete her happiness,
+Adrienne beckoned to Mother Bunch, and made her sit down by her side.
+Then, with her hand clasped in that of this excellent friend, Mdlle. de
+Cardoville smiled on Djalma, stretched adoringly at her feet, and cast
+on the dismayed princess a look of such calm and firm serenity, so
+nobly expressive of the invincible quiet of her happiness, and her lofty
+disdain of all calumnious attacks, that the Princess de Saint-Dizier,
+confused and stupefied, murmured some hardly intelligible words, in a
+voice trembling with passion, and, completely losing her presence of
+mind, rushed towards the door. But, at this moment, the hunchback, who
+feared some ambush, some perfidious plot in the background, resolved,
+after exchanging a glance with Adrienne, to accompany the princess to
+her carriage.
+
+The angry disappointment of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, when she saw
+herself thus followed and watched, appeared so comical to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville that she could not help laughing aloud; and it was to the
+sound of contemptuous hilarity that the hypocritical princess, with rage
+and despair in her heart, quitted the house to which she had hoped to
+bring trouble end misery. Adrienne and Djalma were left alone. Before
+relating the scene which took place between them, a few retrospective
+words are indispensable. It will easily be imagined, that since Mdlle.
+de Cardoville and the Oriental had been brought into such close contact,
+after so many disappointments, their days had passed away like a dream
+of happiness. Adrienne had especially taken pains to bring to light, one
+by one, all the generous qualities of Djalma, of which she had read so
+much in her books of travels. The young lady had imposed on herself this
+tender and patient study of Djalma's character, not only to justify
+to her own mind the intensity of her love, but because this period
+of trial, to which she had assigned a term, enabled her to temper and
+divert the violence of Djalma's passion--a task the more meritorious,
+as she herself was of the same ardent temperament. For, in those two
+lovers, the finest qualities of sense and soul seemed exactly to balance
+each other, and heaven had bestowed on them the rarest beauty of form,
+and the most adorable excellence of heart, as if to legitimatize the
+irresistible attraction which drew and bound them together. What, then,
+was to be the term of this painful trial, which Adrienne had imposed
+on Djalma and on herself? This is what Mdlle. de Cardoville intended
+to tell the prince, in the interview she had with him, after the abrupt
+departure of the Princess de Saint-Dizier.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX. THE ORDEAL.
+
+Adrienne de Cardoville and Djalma had remained alone. Such was the
+noble confidence which had succeeded in the Hindoo's mind to his first
+movement of unreflecting fury, caused by the infamous calumny, that,
+once alone with Adrienne, he did not even allude to that shameful
+accusation.
+
+On her side (touching and admirable sympathy of those two hearts!),
+the young lady was too proud, conscious of the purity of her love, to
+descend to any justification of herself.
+
+She would have considered it an insult both to herself and him.
+Therefore, the lovers began their interview, as if the princess had
+never made any such remark. The same contempt was extended to the
+papers, which the princess had brought with her to prove the imminent
+ruin to which Adrienne was exposed. The young lady had laid them down,
+without reading them, on a stand within her reach. She made a graceful
+sign to Djalma to seat himself by her side, and accordingly he quitted,
+not without regret, the place he had occupied at her feet.
+
+"My love," said Adrienne, in a grave and tender voice, "you have often
+impatiently asked me, when would come the term of the trial we have laid
+upon ourselves. That moment is at hand."
+
+Djalma started, and could not restrain a cry of surprise and joy; but
+this almost trembling exclamation was so soft and sweet, that it seemed
+rather the expression of ineffable gratitude, than of exulting passion.
+
+Adrienne continued: "Separated--surrounded by treachery and
+fraud--mutually deceived as to each other's sentiments--we yet loved
+on, and in that followed an irresistible attraction, stronger than every
+opposing influence. But since then, in these days of happy retirement
+from the world, we have learned to value and esteem each other more.
+Left to ourselves in perfect freedom, we have had the courage to resist
+every temptation, that hereafter we might be happy without remorse.
+During these days, in which our hearts had been laid open to each other,
+we have read them thoroughly. Yes, Djalma! I believe in you, and you in
+me--I find in you all that you find in me--every possible human security
+for our future happiness. But this love must yet be consecrated; and in
+the eyes of the world, in which we are called upon to live, marriage is
+the only consecration, and marriage enchains one's whole life."
+
+Djalma looked at the young lady with surprise.
+
+"Yes, one's whole life! and yet who can answer for the sentiments of a
+whole life?" resumed Adrienne. "A God, that could see into the future,
+could alone bind irrevocably certain hearts for their own happiness;
+but, alas! to human eyes the future is impenetrable. Therefore, to
+accept indissoluble ties, for any longer than one can answer for a
+present sentiment, is to commit an act of selfish and impious folly."
+
+Djalma made no reply, but, with an almost respectful gesture, he urged
+the speaker to continue.
+
+"And then," proceeded she, with a mixture of tenderness and pride, "from
+respect for your dignity and mine, I would never promise to keep a law
+made by man against woman, with contemptuous and brutal egotism--a
+law, which denies to woman soul, mind, and heart--a law, which none can
+accept, without being either a slave or perjured--a law, which takes
+from the girl her name, reduces the wife to a state of degrading
+inferiority, denies to the mother all rights over her own children,
+and enslaves one human creature to the will of another, who is in all
+respects her equal in the sight of God!--You know, my love," added the
+young lady, with passionate enthusiasm, "how much I honor you, whose
+father was called the Father of the Generous. I do not then fear, noble
+and valiant heart, to see you use against me these tyrannical powers;
+but, throughout my life, I never uttered a falsehood, and our love is
+too sacred and celestial to be purchased by a double perjury. No, never
+will I swear to observe a law, that my dignity, and my reason refuse to
+sanction. If, to-morrow, the freedom of divorce were established, and
+the rights of women recognized, I should be willing to observe usages,
+which would then be in accordance with my conscience, and with what is
+just, possible, and humane." Then, after a pause, Adrienne continued,
+with such deep and sweet emotion, that a tear of tenderness veiled her
+beauteous eyes: "Oh! if you knew, my love, what your love is to me: if
+you knew how dear and sacred I hold your happiness--you would excuse,
+you would understand, these generous superstitions of a loving and
+honest heart, which could only see a fatal omen in forms degraded by
+falsehood and perjury. What I wish, is, to attach you by love, to bind
+you in chains of happiness--and to leave you free, that I may owe your
+constancy only to your affection."
+
+Djalma had listened to the young girl with passionate attention. Proud
+and generous himself, he admired this proud and generous character.
+After a moment's meditative silence, he answered, in his sweet, sonorous
+voice, in an almost solemn tone: "Like you, I hold in detestation,
+falsehood and perjury. Like you, I think that man degrades himself, by
+accepting the right of being a cowardly tyrant, even though resolved
+never to use the power. Like you, I could not bear the thought, that
+I owed all I most valued, not to your love alone, but to the eternal
+constraint of an indissoluble bond. Like you, I believe there is no
+dignity but in freedom. But you have said, that, for this great and holy
+love, you demand a religious consecration; and if you reject vows, that
+you cannot make without folly and perjury, are there then others, which
+your reason and your heart approve?--Who will pronounce the required
+blessing? To whom must these vows be spoken?"
+
+"In a few days, my love, I believe I shall be able to tell you all.
+Every evening, after your departure, I have no other thought. I wish to
+find the means of uniting yourself and me--in the eyes of God, not of
+the law--without offending the habits and prejudices of a world, in
+which it may suit us hereafter to live. Yes, my friend! when you know
+whose are the noble hands, that are to join ours together, who is to
+bless and glorify God in our union--a sacred union, that will leave us
+worthy and free--you will say, I am sure, that never purer hands could
+have been laid upon us. Forgive me, friend! all this is in earnest--yes,
+earnest as our love, earnest as our happiness. If my words seem to you
+strange, my thoughts unreasonable, tell it me, love! We will seek and
+find some better means, to reconcile that we owe to heaven, with what
+we owe to the world and to ourselves. It is said, that lovers are beside
+themselves," added the young lady, with a smile, "but I think that no
+creatures are more reasonable."
+
+"When I hear you speak thus of our happiness," said Djalma, deeply
+moved, "with so much calm and earnest tenderness, I think I see a mother
+occupied with the future prospects of her darling child--trying
+to surround him with all that can make him strong, valiant, and
+generous--trying to remove far from him all that is ignoble and
+unworthy. You ask me to tell you if your thoughts seem strange to
+me, Adrienne. You forget, that what makes my faith in our love, is
+my feeling exactly as you do. What offends you, offends me also; what
+disgusts you, disgusts me. Just now, when you cited to me the laws of
+this country, which respect in a woman not even a mother's right--I
+thought with pride of our barbarous countries, where woman, though a
+slave, is made free when she becomes a mother. No, no; such laws are not
+made either for you or me. Is it not to prove your sacred respect for
+our love, to wish to raise it above the shameful servitude that would
+degrade it? You see, Adrienne, I have often heard said by the priests of
+my country, that there were beings inferior to the gods, but superior
+to every other creature. I did not believe those priests; but now I do."
+These last words were uttered, not in the tone of flattery, but with
+an accent of sincere conviction, and with that sort of passionate
+veneration and almost timid fervor, which mark the believer talking of
+his faith; but what is impossible to describe, is the ineffable harmony
+of these almost religious words, with the mild, deep tone of the
+young Oriental's voice--as well as the ardent expression of amorous
+melancholy, which gave an irresistible charm to his enchanting features.
+
+Adrienne had listened to Djalma with an indescribable mixture of joy,
+gratitude, and pride. Laying her hand on her bosom, as if to keep down
+its violent pulsations, she resumed, as she looked at the prince with
+delight: "Behold him, ever the same!--just, good, great!--Oh, my heart!
+my heart! how proudly it beats. Blessed be God, who created me for this
+adored lover! He must mean to astonish the world, by the prodigies of
+tenderness and charity, that such a love may produce. They do not yet
+know the sovereign might of free, happy, ardent love. Yes, Djalma! on
+the day when our hands are joined together, what hymns of gratitude
+will ascend to heaven!--Ah! they do not know the immense, the insatiable
+longing for joy aria delight, which possesses two hearts like ours; they
+do not know what rays of happiness stream from the celestial halo of
+such a flame!--Oh, yes! I feel it. Many tears will be dried, many cold
+hearts warmed, at the divine fire of our love. And it will be by the
+benedictions of those we serve, that they will learn the intoxication of
+our rapture!"
+
+To the dazzled eyes of Djalma, Adrienne appeared more and more an ideal
+being--partaking of the Divinity by her goodness, of the animal nature
+by passion--for, yielding to the intensity of excitement, Adrienne fixed
+upon Djalma looks that sparkled with love.
+
+'Then, almost beside himself, the Asiatic fell prostrate at the feet of
+the maiden, and exclaimed, in a supplicating voice: "Mercy! my courage
+fails me. Have pity on me! do not talk thus. Oh, that day! what years of
+my life would I not give to hasten it!"
+
+"Silence! no blasphemy. Do not your years belong to me?"
+
+"Adrienne! you love me!"
+
+The young lady did not answer; but her half-veiled, burning glance,
+dealt the last blow to reason. Seizing her hands in his own, he
+exclaimed, with a tremulous voice: "That day, in which we shall mount
+to heaven, in which we shall be gods in happiness--why postpone it any
+longer?"
+
+"Because our love must be consecrated by the benediction of heaven."
+
+"Are we not free?"
+
+"Yes, yes, my love; we are free. Let us be worthy of our liberty!"
+
+"Adrienne! mercy!"
+
+"I ask you also to have mercy--to have mercy on the sacredness of our
+love. Do not profane it in its very flower. Believe my heart! believe my
+presentiments! to profane it would be to kill. Courage, my adored lover!
+a few days longer--and then happiness--without regret, and without
+remorse!"
+
+"And, until then, hell! tortures without a name! You do not, cannot know
+what I suffer when I leave your presence. Your image follows me, your
+breath burns me up; I cannot sleep, but call on you every night with
+sighs and tears--just as I called on, you, when I thought you did not
+love me--and yet I know you love me, I know you are mine. But to see you
+every day more beautiful, more adored--and every day to quit you more
+impassioned--oh! you cannot tell--"
+
+Djalma was unable to proceed. What he said of his devouring tortures,
+Adrienne had felt, perhaps even more intensely. Electrified by the
+passionate words of Djalma, so beautiful in his excitement, her courage
+failed, and she perceived that an irresistible languor was creeping
+over her. By a last chaste effort of the will, she rose abruptly, and
+hastening to the door, which communicated with Mother Bunch's chamber,
+she exclaimed: "My sister! help me!"
+
+In another moment, Mdlle. de Cardoville, her face bathed in tears,
+clasped the young sempstress in her arms; while Djalma knelt
+respectfully on the threshold he did not dare to pass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXI. AMBITION.
+
+A few days after the interview of Djalma and Adrienne, just described,
+Rodin was alone in his bed-chamber, in the house in the Rue de
+Vaugirard, walking up and down the room where he had so valiantly
+undergone the moxas of Dr. Baleinier. With his hands thrust into the
+hind-pockets of his greatcoat, and his head bowed upon his breast, the
+Jesuit seemed to be reflecting profoundly, and his varying walk, now
+slow, now quick, betrayed the agitation of his mind.
+
+"On the side of Rome," said Rodin to himself, "I am tranquil. All is
+going well. The abdication is as good as settled, and if I can pay them
+the price agreed, the Prince Cardinal can secure me a majority of nine
+voices in the conclave. Our General is with me; the doubts of Cardinal
+Malipieri are at an end, or have found no echo. Yet I am not quite easy,
+with regard to the reported correspondence between Father d'Aigrigny and
+Malipieri. I have not been able to intercept any of it. No matter; that
+soldier's business is settled. A little patience and he will be wiped
+out."
+
+Here the pale lips were contracted by one of those frightful smiles,
+which gave to Rodin's countenance so diabolical an expression.
+
+After a pause, he resumed: "The funeral of the freethinker, the
+philanthropist, the workman's friend, took place yesterday at St.
+Herem. Francis Hardy went off in a fit of ecstatic delirium. I had
+his donation, it is true; but this is more certain. Everything may be
+disputed in this world; the dead dispute nothing."
+
+Rodin remained in thought for some moments; then he added, in a grave
+tone: "There remain this red-haired wench and her mulatto. This is the
+twenty-seventh of May; the first of June approaches, and these turtle
+doves still seem invulnerable. The princess thought she had hit upon
+a good plan, and I should have thought so too. It was a good idea to
+mention the discovery of Agricola Baudoin in the madcap's room, for it
+made the Indian tiger roar with savage jealousy. Yes: but then the
+dove began to coo, and hold out her pretty beak, and the foolish tiger
+sheathed his claws, and rolled on the ground before her. It's a pity,
+for there was some sense in the scheme."
+
+The walk of Rodin became more and more agitated. "Nothing is more
+extraordinary," continued he, "than the generative succession of ideas.
+In comparing this red-haired jade to a dove (colombe), I could not
+help thinking of that infamous old woman, Sainte-Colombe, whom that big
+rascal Jacques Dumoulin pays his court to, and whom the Abbe Corbinet
+will finish, I hope, by turning to good account. I have often remarked,
+that, as a poet may find an excellent rhyme by mere chance, so the
+germ of the best ideas is sometimes found in a word, or in some absurd
+resemblance like the present. That abominable hag, Sainte-Colombo, and
+the pretty Adrienne de Cardoville, go as well together, as a ring would
+suit a cat, or a necklace a fish. Well, there is nothing in it."
+
+Hardly had Rodin pronounced these words, than he started suddenly,
+and his face shone with a fatal joy. Then it assumed an expression of
+meditative astonishment, as happens when chance reveals some unexpected
+discovery to the surprised and charmed inquirer after knowledge.
+
+Soon, with raised head and sparkling eye, his hollow cheeks swelling
+with joy and pride, Rodin folded his arms in triumph on his breast,
+and exclaimed: "Oh! how admirable and marvellous are these mysterious
+evolutions of the mind; how incomprehensible is the chain of human
+thought, which, starting from an absurd jingle of words, arrives at
+a splendid or luminous idea! Is it weakness? or is it strength?
+Strange--very strange! I compare the red-haired girl to a dove--a
+colombe. That makes me think of the hag, who traded in the bodies and
+souls of so many creatures. Vulgar proverbs occur to me, about a ring
+and a cat, a fish and a necklace--and suddenly, at the word NECKLACE,
+a new light dawns upon me. Yes: that one word NECKLACE shall be to me a
+golden key, to open the portals of my brain, so long foolishly closed."
+
+And, after again walking hastily up and down, Rodin continued: "Yes, it
+is worth attempting. The more I reflect upon it, the more feasible it
+appears. Only how to get at that wretch, Saint-Colombe? Well, there
+is Jacques Dumoulin, and the other--where to find her? That is the
+stumbling-block. I must not shout before I am out of the wood."
+
+Rodin began again to walk, biting his nails with an air of deep thought.
+For some moments, such was the tension of his mind, large drops of sweat
+stood on his yellow brow. He walked up and down, stopped, stamped with
+his foot, now raised his eyes as if in search of an inspiration, and now
+scratched his head violently with his left hand, whilst he continued
+to gnaw the nails of the right. Finally, from time to time, he uttered
+exclamations of rage, despondency, or hope, as by turns they took
+possession of his mind. If the cause of this monster's agitation had not
+been horrible, it would have been a curious and interesting spectacle to
+watch the labors of that powerful brain--to follow, as it were, on that
+shifting countenance, the progress and development of the project,
+on which he was now concentrating all the resources of his strong
+intellect. At length, the work appeared to be near completion, for Rodin
+resumed: "Yes, yes! it is bold, hazardous--but then it is prompt, and
+the consequences may be incalculable. Who can foresee the effects of the
+explosion of a mine?"
+
+Then, yielding to a movement of enthusiasm, which was hardly natural
+to him, the Jesuit exclaimed, with rapture: "Oh, the passions! the
+passions! what a magical instrument do they form, if you do but touch
+the keys with a light, skillful, and vigorous hand! How beautiful too
+is the power of thought! Talk of the acorn that becomes an oak, the seed
+that grows up to the corn--the seed takes months, the acorn centuries,
+to unfold its splendors--but here is a little word in eight letters,
+necklace and this word, falling into my brain but a few minutes ago, has
+grown and grown till it has become larger than any oak. Yes, that word
+is the germ of an idea, that, like the oak, lifts itself up towards
+heaven, for the greater glory of the Lord--such as they call Him,
+and such as I would assert Him to be, should I attain--and I shall
+attain--for these miserable Renneponts will pass away like a shadow. And
+what matters it, after all, to the moral order I am reserved to guide,
+whether these people live or die? What do such lives weigh in the
+balance of the great destinies of the world? while this inheritance
+which I shall boldly fling into the scale, will lift me to a sphere,
+from which one commands many kings, many nations--let them say and make
+what noise they will. The idiots--the stupid idiots! or rather, the
+kind, blessed, adorable idiots! They think they have crushed us, when
+they say to us men of the church: 'You take the spiritual, but we will
+keep the temporal!'--Oh, their conscience or their modesty inspires them
+well, when it bids them not meddle with spiritual things! They abandon
+the spiritual! they despise it, they will have nothing to do with
+it--oh, the venerable asses! they do not see, that, even as they go
+straight to the mill, it is by the spiritual that we go straight to
+the temporal. As if the mind did not govern the body! They leave us
+the spiritual--that is, command of the conscience, soul, heart, and
+judgment--the spiritual--that is, the distribution of heaven's rewards,
+and punishments, and pardons--without check, without control, in the
+secrecy of the confessional--and that dolt, the temporal, has nothing
+but brute matter for his portion, and yet rubs his paunch for joy. Only,
+from time to time, he perceives, too late, that, if he has the body, we
+have the soul, and that the soul governs the body, and so the body ends
+by coming with us also--to the great surprise of Master Temporal, who
+stands staring with his hands on his paunch, and says: 'Dear me! is it
+possible?'"
+
+Then, with a laugh of savage contempt, Rodin began to walk with great
+strides, and thus continued: "Oh! let me reach it--let me but reach the
+place of SIXTUS V.--and the world shall see (one day, when it awakes)
+what it is to have the spiritual power in hands like mine--in the hands
+of a priest, who, for fifty years, has lived hardly, frugally, chastely,
+and who, were he pope, would continue to live hardly, frugally,
+chastely!"
+
+Rodin became terrible, as he spoke thus. All the sanguinary,
+sacrilegious, execrable ambition of the worst popes seemed written in
+fiery characters on the brow of this son of Ignatius. A morbid desire
+of rule seemed to stir up the Jesuit's impure blood; he was bathed in
+a burning sweat, and a kind of nauseous vapor spread itself round about
+him. Suddenly, the noise of a travelling-carriage, which entered
+the courtyard of the house, attracted his attention. Regretting his
+momentary excitement, he drew from his pocket his dirty white and red
+cotton handkerchief, and dipping it in a glass of water, he applied
+it to his cheeks and temples, while he approached the window, to look
+through the half-open blinds at the traveller who had just arrived.
+The projection of a portico, over the door at which the carriage had
+stopped, intercepted Rodin's view.
+
+"No matter," said he, recovering his coolness: "I shall know presently
+who is there. I must write at once to Jacques Dumoulin, to come hither
+immediately. He served me well, with regard to that little slut in the
+Rue Clovis, who made my hair stand on end with her infernal Beranger.
+This time, Dumoulin may serve me again. I have him in my clutches, and
+he will obey me."
+
+Rodin sat down to his desk and wrote. A few seconds later, some one
+knocked at the door, which was double-locked, quite contrary to the
+rules of the order. But, sure of his own influence and importance,
+Rodin, who had obtained from the general permission to be rid for a
+time of the inconvenient company of a socius, often took upon himself to
+break through a number of the rules. A servant entered and delivered
+a letter to Rodin. Before opening it the latter said to the man: "What
+carriage is that which just arrived?"
+
+"It comes from Rome, father," answered the servant, bowing.
+
+"From Rome!" said Rodin, hastily; and in spite of himself, a vague
+uneasiness was expressed in his countenance. But, still holding the
+letter in his hands, he added: "Who comes in the carriage."
+
+"A reverend father of our blessed Company."
+
+Notwithstanding his ardent curiosity, for he knew that a reverend
+father, travelling post, is always charged with some important mission,
+Rodin asked no more questions on the subject, but said, as he pointed to
+the paper in his hand: "Whence comes this letter?"
+
+"From our house at St. Herem, father."
+
+Rodin looked more attentively at the writing, and recognized the hand of
+Father d'Aigrigny, who had been commissioned to attend M. Hardy in his
+last moments. The letter ran as follows:
+
+"I send a despatch to inform your reverence of a fact which is, perhaps,
+more singular than important. After the funeral of M. Francis Hardy, the
+coffin, which contained his remains, had been provisionally deposited in
+a vault beneath our chapel, until it could be removed to the cemetery of
+the neighboring town. This morning, when our people went down into
+the vault, to make the necessary preparations for the removal of the
+body--the coffin had disappeared.
+
+"That is strange indeed," said Rodin with a start. Then, he continued to
+read:
+
+"All search has hitherto been vain, to discover the authors of the
+sacrilegious deed. The chapel being, as you know, at a distance from the
+house, they were able to effect an entry without disturbing us. We
+have found traces of a four-wheeled carriage on the damp ground in the
+neighborhood; but, at some little distance from the chapel, these marks
+are lost in the sand, and it has been impossible to follow them any
+farther."
+
+"Who can have carried away this body?" said Rodin, with a thoughtful
+air. "Who could have any interest in doing so?"
+
+He continued to read:
+
+"Luckily, the certificate of death is quite correct. I sent for a doctor
+from Etampes, to prove the disease, and no question can be raised on
+that point. The donation is therefore good and valid in every respect,
+but I think it best to inform your reverence of what has happened, that
+you may take measures accordingly, etc., etc."
+
+After a moment's reflection, Rodin said to himself: "D'Aigrigny is right
+in his remark; it is more singular than important. Still, it makes one
+think. We must have an eye to this affair."
+
+Turning towards the servant, who had brought him the letter, Rodin gave
+him the note he had just written to Ninny Moulin, and said to him: "Let
+this letter be taken instantly to its address, and let the bearer wait
+for an answer."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+At the moment the servant left the room, a reverend father entered,
+and said to Rodin, "Father Caboccini of Rome has just arrived, with a
+mission from our general to your reverence."
+
+At these words, Rodin's blood ran cold, but he maintained his immovable
+calmness, and said simply: "Where is Father Caboccini?"
+
+"In the next room, father."
+
+"Beg him to walk in, and leave us," said the other.
+
+A second after, Father Caboccini of Rome entered the room and was left
+alone with Rodin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXII. TO A SOCIUS, A SOCIUS AND A HALF.
+
+The Reverend Father Caboccini, the Roman Jesuit who now came to visit
+Rodin, was a short man of about thirty years of age, plump, in good
+condition, and with an abdomen that swelled out his black cassock. The
+good little father was blind with one eye, but his remaining organ of
+vision sparkled with vivacity. His rosy countenance was gay, smiling,
+joyous, splendidly crowned with thick chestnut hair, which curled like
+a wax doll's. His address was cordial to familiarity, and his expansive
+and petulant manners harmonized well with his general appearance. In a
+second, Rodin had taken his measure of the Italian emissary; and as he
+knew the practice of his Company, and the ways of Rome, he felt by
+no means comfortable at sight of this jolly little father, with such
+affable manners. He would have less feared some tall, bony priest, with
+austere and sepulchral countenance, for he knew that the Company loves
+to deceive by the outward appearance of its agents; and if Rodin guessed
+rightly, the cordial address of this personage would rather tend to show
+that he was charged with some fatal mission.
+
+Suspicious, attentive, with eye and mind on the watch, like an old wolf,
+expecting an attack, Rodin advanced as usual, slowly and tortuously
+towards the little man, so as to have time to examine him thoroughly,
+and penetrate beneath his jovial outside. But the Roman left him no
+space for that purpose. In his impetuous affection he threw himself
+right on the neck of Rodin, pressed him in his arms with an effusion
+of tenderness, and kissed him over and over again upon both cheeks, so
+loudly and plentifully that the echo resounded through the apartment.
+In his life Rodin had never been so treated. More and more uneasy at the
+treachery which must needs lurk under such warm embraces, and irritated
+by his own evil presentiments, the French Jesuit did, all he could to
+extricate himself from the Roman's exaggerated tokens of tenderness.
+But the latter kept his hold; his arms, though short, were vigorous, and
+Rodin was kissed over and over again, till the little one-eyed man was
+quite out of breath. It is hardly necessary to state that these embraces
+were accompanied by the most friendly, affectionate, and fraternal
+exclamations--all in tolerably good French, but with a strong Italian
+accent, which we muss beg the reader to supply for himself, after we
+have given a single specimen. It will perhaps be remembered that,
+fully aware of the danger he might possibly incur by his ambitious
+machinations, and knowing from history that the use of poison had often
+been considered at Rome as a state necessity, Rodin, on being suddenly
+attacked with the cholera, had exclaimed, with a furious glance at
+Cardinal Malipieri, "I am poisoned!"
+
+The same apprehensions occurred involuntarily to the Jesuit's mind as
+he tried, by useless efforts, to escape from the embraces of the Italian
+emissary; and he could not help muttering to himself, "This one-eyed
+fellow is a great deal too fond. I hope there is no poison under his
+Judas-kisses." At last, little Father Caboccini, being quite out
+of breath, was obliged to relinquish his hold on Rodin's neck, who,
+readjusting his dirty collar, and his old cravat and waistcoat, somewhat
+in disorder in consequence of this hurricane of caresses, said in a
+gruff tone, "Your humble servant, father, but you need not kiss quite so
+hard."
+
+Without making any answer to this reproach, the little father riveted
+his one eye upon Rodin with an expression of enthusiasm, and exclaimed,
+whilst he accompanied his words with petulant gestures, "At lazt I
+zee te zuperb light of our zacred Company, and can zalute him from my
+heart--vonse more, vonse more."
+
+As the little father had already recovered his breath, and was about to
+rush once again into Rodin's arms, the latter stepped back hastily, and
+held out his arm to keep him off, saying, in allusion to the illogical
+metaphor employed by Father Caboccini, "First of all, father, one
+does not embrace a light--and then I am not a light--I am a humble and
+obscure laborer in the Lord's vineyard."
+
+The Roman replied with enthusiasm (we shall henceforth translate his
+gibberish), "You are right, father, we cannot embrace a light, but we
+can prostrate ourselves before it, and admire its dazzling brightness."
+
+So saying, Caboccini was about to suit the action to the word, and to
+prostrate himself before Rodin, had not the latter prevented this mode
+of adulation by seizing the Roman by the arm and exclaiming, "This is
+mere idolatry, father. Pass over my qualities, and tell me what is the
+object of your journey."
+
+"The object, my dear father, fills me with joy and happiness. I have
+endeavored to show you my affection by my caresses, for my heart is
+overflowing. I have hardly been able to restrain myself during my
+journey hither, for my heart rushed to meet you. The object transports,
+delights, enchants me--"
+
+"But what enchants you?" cried Rodin, exasperated by these Italian
+exaggerations. "What is the object?"
+
+"This rescript of our very reverend and excellent General will inform
+you, my clear father."
+
+Caboccini drew from his pocket-book a folded paper, with three seals,
+which he kissed respectfully, and delivered to Rodin, who himself kissed
+it in his turn, and opened it with visible anxiety. While he read it the
+countenance of the Jesuit remained impassible, but the pulsation of the
+arteries on his temples announced his internal agitation. Yet he put the
+letter coolly into his pocket, and looking at the Roman, said to him,
+"Be it as our excellent General has commanded!"
+
+"Then, father," cried Caboccini, with a new effusion of tenderness and
+admiration, "I shall be the shadow of your light, and, in fact, your
+second self. I shall have the happiness of being always with you, day
+and night, and of acting as your socius, since, after having allowed
+you to be without one for some time, according to your wish, and for the
+interest of our blessed Company, our excellent General now thinks fit to
+send me from Rome, to fill that post about your person--an unexpected,
+an immense favor, which fills me with gratitude to our General, and with
+love to you, my dear, my excellent father!"
+
+"It is well played," thought Rodin; "but I am not so soft, and 'tis only
+among the blind that your Cyclops are kings!"
+
+The evening of the day in which this scene took place between the
+Jesuit and his new socius, Ninny Moulin, after receiving in presence
+of Caboccini the instructions of Rodin, went straight to Madame de la
+Sainte-Colombe's.
+
+This woman had made her fortune, at the time of the allies taking Paris,
+by keeping one of those "pretty milliner's shops," whose "pink bonnets"
+have run into a proverb not extinct in these days when bonnets are not
+known. Ninny Moulin had no better well to draw inspiration from when,
+as now, he had to find out, as per Rodin's order, a girl of an age and
+appearance which, singularly enough, were closely resembling those of
+Mdlle. de Cardoville.
+
+No doubt of Ninny Moulin's success in this mission, for the next morning
+Rodin, whose countenance wore a triumphant expression, put with his own
+hand a letter into the post.
+
+This letter was addressed:
+
+"To M. Agricola Baudoin, "No. 2, Rue Brise-Miche, "Paris."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXIII. FARINGHEA'S AFFECTION.
+
+It will, perhaps, be remembered that Djalma, when he heard for the first
+time that he was beloved by Adrienne, had, in the fulness of his joy,
+spoken thus to Faringhea, whose treachery he had just discovered, "You
+leagued with my enemies, and I had done you no harm. You are wicked,
+because you are no doubt unhappy. I will strive to make you happy, so
+that you may be good. Would you have gold?--you shall have it. Would
+you have a friend?--though you are a slave, a king's son offers you his
+friendship."
+
+Faringhea had refused the gold, and appeared to accept the friendship
+of the son of Kadja-sing. Endowed with remarkable intelligence, and
+extraordinary power of dissimulation the half-breed had easily persuaded
+the prince of the sincerity of his repentance, and obtained credit for
+his gratitude and attachment from so confiding and generous a character.
+Besides, what motives could Djalma have to suspect the slave, now become
+his friend? Certain of the love of Mdlle. de Cardoville, with whom he
+passed a portion of every day, her salutary influence would have guarded
+him against any dangerous counsels or calumnies of the half-caste, a
+faithful and secret instrument of Rodin, and attached by him to the
+Company. But Faringhea, whose tact was amazing, did not act so lightly;
+he never spoke to the prince of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and waited
+unobtrusively for the confidential communications into which Djalma was
+sometimes hurried by his excessive joy. A few days after the interview
+last described between Adrienne and Djalma, and on the morrow of the day
+when Rodin, certain of the success of Ninny Moulin's mission to Sainte
+Colombe, had himself put a letter in the post to the address of Agricola
+Baudoin, the half-caste, who for some time had appeared oppressed with a
+violent grief, seemed to get so much worse, that the prince, struck with
+the desponding air of the man, asked him kindly and repeatedly the cause
+of his sorrow. But Faringhea, while he gratefully thanked the prince for
+the interest he took in him, maintained the most absolute silence and
+reserve on the subject of his grief.
+
+These preliminaries will enable the reader to understand the following
+scene, which took place about noon in the house in the Rue de Clichy
+occupied by the Hindoo. Contrary to his habit, Djalma had not passed
+that morning with Adrienne. He had been informed the evening before,
+by the young lady, that she must ask of him the sacrifice of this whole
+day, to take the necessary measures to make their marriage sacred and
+acceptable in the eyes of the world, and yet free from the restrictions
+which she and Djalma disapproved. As for the means to be employed by
+Mdlle. de Cardoville to attain this end, and the name of the pure and
+honorable person who was to consecrate their union, these were secrets
+which, not belonging exclusively to the young lady, could not yet be
+communicated to Djalma. To the Indian, so long accustomed to devote
+every instant to Adrienne, this day seemed interminable. By turns a
+prey to the most burning agitation, and to a kind of stupor, in which
+he plunged himself to escape from the thoughts that caused his tortures,
+Djalma lay stretched upon a divan, with his face buried in his hands,
+as if to shut out the view of a too enchanting vision. Suddenly,
+without knocking at the door, as usual, Faringhea entered the prince's
+apartment.
+
+At the noise the half-caste made in entering Djalma started, raised
+his head, and looked round him with surprise; but, on seeing the pale
+agitated countenance of the slave, he rose hastily, and advancing
+towards him, exclaimed, "What is the matter, Faringhea!"
+
+After a moment's silence, and as if struggling with a painful feeling of
+hesitation, Faringhea threw himself at the feet of Djalma, and murmured
+in a weak, despairing, almost supplicating voice: "I am very miserable.
+Pity me, my good lord!"
+
+The tone was so touching, the grief under which the half-breed suffered
+seemed to give to his features, generally fixed and hard as bronze,
+such a heart-rending expression, that Djalma was deeply affected, and,
+bending to raise him from the ground, said to him, in a kindly voice:
+"Speak to me! Confidence appeases the torments of the heart. Trust me,
+friend--for my angel herself said to me, that happy love cannot bear to
+see tears about him."
+
+"But unhappy love, miserable love, betrayed love--weeps tears of blood,"
+replied Faringhea, with painful dejection.
+
+"Of what love dost thou speak?" asked Djalma, in surprise.
+
+"I speak of my love," answered the half-caste, with a gloomy air.
+
+"Of your love?" said Djalma, more and more astonished; not that the half
+caste, still young, and with a countenance of sombre beauty, appeared
+to him incapable of inspiring or feeling the tender passion, but that,
+until now, he had never imagined him capable of conceiving so deep a
+sorrow.
+
+"My lord," resumed the half-caste, "you told me, that misfortune had
+made me wicked, and that happiness would make me good. In those words,
+I saw a presentiment, and a noble love entered my heart, at the moment
+when hatred and treachery departed from it. I, the half-savage, found a
+woman, beautiful and young, to respond to my passion. At least I thought
+so. But I had betrayed you, my lord, and there is no happiness for
+a traitor, even though he repent. In my turn, I have been shamefully
+betrayed."
+
+Then, seeing the surprise of the prince, the half-caste added, as if
+overwhelmed with confusion: "Do not mock me, my lord! The most frightful
+tortures would not have wrung this confession from me; but you, the son
+of a king, deigned to call the poor slave your friend!"
+
+"And your friend thanks you for the confidence," answered Djalma. "Far
+from mocking, he will console you. Mock you! do you think it possible?"
+
+"Betrayed love merits contempt and insult," said Faringhea, bitterly.
+"Even cowards may point at one with scorn--for, in this country, the
+sight of the man deceived in what is dearest to his soul, the very life
+blood of his life, only makes people shrug their shoulders and laugh."
+
+"But are you certain of this treachery?" said Djalma, mildly. Then he
+added, with visible hesitation, that proved the goodness of his heart:
+"Listen to me, and forgive me for speaking of the past! It will only be
+another proof, that I cherish no evil memories, and that I fully believe
+in your repentance and affection. Remember, that I also once thought,
+that she, who is the angel of my life, did not love me--and yet it
+was false. Who tells you, that you are not, like me, deceived by false
+appearances?"
+
+"Alas, my lord! could I only believe so! But I dare not hope it. My
+brain wanders uncertain, I cannot come to any resolution, and therefore
+I have recourse to you."
+
+"But what causes your suspicions?"
+
+"Her coldness, which sometimes succeeds to apparent tenderness. The
+refusals she gives me in the name of duty. Yes," added the half-caste,
+after a moment's silence, "she reasons about her love--a proof, that she
+has never loved me, or that she loves me no more."
+
+"On the contrary, she perhaps loves you all the more, that she takes
+into consideration the interest and the dignity of her love."
+
+"That is what they all say," replied the half-caste, with bitter irony,
+as he fixed a penetrating look on Djalma; "thus speak all those who love
+weakly, coldly; but those who love valiantly, never show these insulting
+suspicions. For them, a word from the man they adore is a command;
+they do not haggle and bargain, for the cruel pleasure of exciting the
+passion of their lover to madness, and so ruling him more surely. No,
+what their lover asks of them, were it to cost life and honor, they
+would grant it without hesitation--because, with them, the will of the
+man they love is above every other consideration, divine and human. But
+those crafty women, whose pride it is to tame and conquer man--who take
+delight in irritating his passion, and sometimes appear on the point of
+yielding to it--are demons, who rejoice in the tears and torments of the
+wretch, that loves them with the miserable weakness of a child. While we
+expire with love at their feet, the perfidious creatures are calculating
+the effects of their refusals, and seeing how far they can go, without
+quite driving their victim to despair. Oh! how cold and cowardly are
+they, compared to the valiant, true-hearted women, who say to the men
+of their choice: 'Let me be thine to-day-and to-morrow, come shame,
+despair, and death--it matters little! Be happy! my life is not worth
+one tear of thine!"
+
+Djalma's brow had darkened, as he listened. Having kept inviolable the
+secret of the various incidents of his passion for Mdlle. de Cardoville,
+he could not but see in these words a quite involuntary allusion to the
+delays and refusals of Adrienne. And yet Djalma suffered a moment in his
+pride, at the thought of considerations and duties, that a woman holds
+dearer than her love. But this bitter and painful thought was soon
+effaced from the oriental's mind, thanks to the beneficent influence of
+the remembrance of Adrienne. His brow again cleared, and he answered
+the half-caste, who was watching him attentively with a sidelong glance:
+"You are deluded by grief. If you have no other reason to doubt her you
+love, than these refusals and vague suspicions, be satisfied! You are
+perhaps loved better than you can imagine."
+
+"Alas! would it were so, my lord!" replied the half-caste, dejectedly,
+as if he had been deeply touched by the words of Djalma. "Yet I say
+to myself: There is for this woman something stronger than her
+love--delicacy, dignity, honor, what you will--but she does not love me
+enough to sacrifice for me this something!"
+
+"Friend, you are deceived," answered Djalma, mildly, though the words
+affected him with a painful impression. "The greater the love of a
+woman, the more it should be chaste and noble. It is love itself that
+awakens this delicacy and these scruples. He rules, instead of being
+ruled."
+
+"That is true," replied the half-caste, with bitter irony, "Love so
+rules me, that this woman bids me love in her own fashion, and I have
+only to submit."
+
+Pausing suddenly, Faringhea hid his face in his hands, and heaved a deep
+drawn sigh. His features expressed a mixture of hate, rage, and despair,
+at once so terrible and so painful, that Djalma, more and more affected,
+exclaimed, as he seized the other's hand: "Calm this fury, and listen to
+the voice of friendship! It will disperse this evil influence. Speak to
+me!"
+
+"No, no! it is too dreadful!"
+
+"Speak, I bid thee."
+
+"No! leave the wretch to his despair!"
+
+"Do you think me capable of that?" said Djalma, with a mixture of
+mildness and dignity, which seemed to make an impression on the half
+caste.
+
+"Alas!" replied he, hesitating; "do you wish to hear more, my lord?"
+
+"I wish to hear all."
+
+"Well, then! I have not told you all--for, at the moment of making this
+confession, shame and the fear of ridicule kept me back. You asked me
+what reason I had to believe myself betrayed. I spoke to you of vague
+suspicions, refusals, coldness. That is not all--this evening--"
+
+"Go on!"
+
+"This evening--she made an appointment--with a man that she prefers to
+me."
+
+"Who told you so?"
+
+"A stranger who pitied my blindness."
+
+"And suppose the man deceived you--or deceives himself?"
+
+"He has offered me proofs of what he advances."
+
+"What proofs?"
+
+"He will enable me this evening to witness the interview. 'It may be,'
+said he, 'that this appointment may have no guilt in it, notwithstanding
+appearances to the contrary. Judge for yourself, have courage, and your
+cruel indecision will be at an end.'"
+
+"And what did you answer?"
+
+"Nothing, my lord. My head wandered as it does now and I came to you for
+advice."
+
+Then, making a gesture of despair, he proceeded with a savage laugh:
+"Advice? It is from the blade of my kand-jiar that I should ask counsel!
+It would answer: 'Blood! blood!'"
+
+Faringhea grasped convulsively the long dagger attached to his girdle.
+There is a sort of contagion in certain forms of passion. At sight of
+Faringhea's countenance, agitated by jealous fury, Djalma shuddered--for
+he remembered the fit of insane rage, with which he had been possessed,
+when the Princess de Saint-Dizier had defied Adrienne to contradict her,
+as to the discovery of Agricola Baudoin in her bed-chamber. But then,
+reassured by the lady's proud and noble bearing, Djalma had soon learned
+to despise the horrible calumny, which Adrienne had not even thought
+worthy of an answer. Still, two or three times, as the lightning will
+flash suddenly across the clearest sky, the remembrance of that shameful
+accusation had crossed the prince's mind, like a streak of fire, but
+had almost instantly vanished, in the serenity and happiness of his
+ineffable confidence in Adrienne's heart. These memories, however,
+whilst they saddened the mind of Djalma, only made him more
+compassionate with regard to Faringhea, than he might have been without
+this strange coincidence between the position of the half-caste and his
+own. Knowing, by his own experience, to what madness a blind fury may
+be carried, and wishing to tame the half-caste by affectionate
+kindness, Djalma said to him in a grave and mild tone: "I offered you my
+friendship. I will now act towards you a friend."
+
+But Faringhea, seemingly a prey to a dull and mute frenzy, stood with
+fixed and haggard eyes, as though he did not hear Djalma.
+
+The latter laid his hand on his shoulder, and resumed: "Faringhea,
+listen to me!"
+
+"My lord," said the half-caste, starting abruptly, as from a dream,
+"forgive me--but--"
+
+"In the anguish occasioned by these cruel suspicions, it is not of your
+kandjiar that you must take counsel--but of your friend."
+
+"My lord--"
+
+"To this interview, which will prove the innocence or the treachery of
+your beloved, you will do well to go."
+
+"Oh, yes!" said the half-caste, in a hollow voice, and with a bitter
+smile: "I shall be there."
+
+"But you must not go alone."
+
+"What do you mean, my lord?" cried the half-caste. "Who will accompany
+me?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"You, my lord?"
+
+"Yes--perhaps, to save you from a crime--for I know how blind and unjust
+is the earliest outburst of rage."
+
+"But that transport gives us revenge!" cried the half-caste, with a
+cruel smile.
+
+"Faringhea, this day is all my own. I shall not leave you," said the
+prince, resolutely. "Either you shall not go to this interview, or I
+will accompany you."
+
+The half-caste appeared conquered by this generous perseverance. He fell
+at the feet of Djalma, pressed the prince's hand respectfully to his
+forehead and to his lips, and said: "My lord, be generous to the end!
+forgive me!"
+
+"For what should I forgive you?"
+
+"Before I spoke to you, I had the audacity to think of asking for what
+you have just freely offered. Not knowing to what extent my fury might
+carry me, I had thought of asking you this favor, which you would not
+perhaps grant to an equal, but I did not dare to do it. I shrunk even
+from the avowal of the treachery I have cause to fear, and I came only
+to tell you of my misery--because to you alone in all the world I could
+tell it."
+
+It is impossible to describe the almost candid simplicity, with which
+the half-breed pronounced these words, and the soft tones, mingled with
+tears, which had succeeded his savage fury. Deeply affected, Djalma
+raised him from the ground, and said: "You were entitled to ask of me a
+mark of friendship. I am happy in having forestalled you. Courage! be of
+good cheer! I will accompany you to this interview, and if my hopes
+do not deceive me, you will find you have been deluded by false
+appearances."
+
+When the night was come, the half-breed and Djalma, wrapped in their
+cloaks, got into a hackney-coach. Faringhea ordered the coachman to
+drive to the house inhabited by Sainte-Colombe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXIV. AN EVENING AT SAINTE-COLOMBE'S.
+
+Leaving Djalma and Faringhea in the coach, on their way, a few words are
+indispensable before continuing this scene. Ninny Moulin, ignorant of
+the real object of the step he took at the instigation of Rodin, had,
+on the evening before, according to orders received from the latter,
+offered a considerable sum to Sainte-Colombe, to obtain from that
+creature (still singularly rapacious) the use of her apartments for
+whole day. Sainte-Colombe, having accepted this proposition, too
+advantageous to be refused, had set out that morning with her servants,
+to whom she wished, she said, in return for their good services, to give
+a day's pleasure in the country. Master of the house, Rodin, in a black
+wig, blue spectacles, and a cloak, and with his mouth and chin buried
+in a worsted comforter--in a word, perfectly disguised--had gone that
+morning to take a look at the apartments, and to give his instructions
+to the half-caste. The latter, in two hours from the departure of the
+Jesuit, had, thanks to his address and intelligence, completed the most
+important preparation and returned in haste to Djalma, to play with
+detestable hypocrisy the scene at which we have just been present.
+
+During the ride from the Rue de Clichy to the Rue de Richelieu,
+Faringhea appeared plunged in a mournful reverie. Suddenly, he said
+to Djalma to a quick tone: "My lord, if I am betrayed, I must have
+vengeance."
+
+"Contempt is a terrible revenge," answered Djalma.
+
+"No, no," replied the half-caste, with an accent of repressed rage. "It
+is not enough. The nearer the moment approaches, the more I feel I must
+have blood."
+
+"Listen to me--"
+
+"My lord, have pity on me! I was a coward to draw back from my revenge.
+Let me leave you, my lord! I will go alone to this interview."
+
+So saying, Faringhea made a movement, as if he would spring from the
+carriage.
+
+Djalma held him by the arm, and said: "Remain! I wilt not leave you.
+If you are betrayed, you shall not shed blood. Contempt will avenge and
+friendship will console you."
+
+"No, no, my lord; I am resolved. When I have killed--then I will kill
+myself," cried the half-caste, with savage excitement. "This kandjiar
+for the false ones!" added he, laying his hand on his dagger. "The
+poison in the hilt for me."
+
+"Faringhea--"
+
+"If I resist you, my lord, forgive me! My destiny must be accomplished."
+
+Time pressed, and Djalma, despairing to calm the other's ferocious rage,
+resolved to have recourse to a stratagem.
+
+After some minutes' silence, he said to Faringhea: "I will not leave
+you. I will do all I can to save you from a crime. If I do not succeed,
+the blood you shed be on your own head. This hand shall never again be
+locked in yours."
+
+These words appeared to make a deep impression on Faringhea. He breathed
+a long sigh, and, bowing his head upon his breast, remained silent
+and full of thought. Djalma prepared, by the faint light of the lamps,
+reflected in the interior of the coach, to throw himself suddenly on
+the half-caste, and disarm him. But the latter, who saw at a glance the
+intention of the prince, drew his kandjiar abruptly from his girdle,
+and holding it still in its sheath, said to the prince in a half-solemn,
+half-savage tone: "This dagger, in a strong hand, is terrible; and in
+this phial is one of the most subtle poisons of our country."
+
+He touched a spring, and the knob at the top of the hilt rose like a
+lid, discovering the mouth of a small crystal phial concealed in this
+murderous weapon.
+
+"Two or three drops of this poison upon the lips," resumed the half
+caste, "and death comes slowly and peacefully, in a few hours, and
+without pain. Only, for the first symptom, the nails turn blue. But he
+who emptied this phial at a draught would fall dead, as if struck by
+lightning."
+
+"Yes," replied Djalma; "I know that our country produces such mysterious
+poisons. But why lay such stress on the murderous properties of this
+weapon?"
+
+"To show you, my lord, that this kandjiar would ensure the success and
+impunity of my vengeance. With the blade I could destroy, and by the
+poison escape from human justice. Well, my lord! this kandjiar--take
+it--I give it up to you--I renounce my vengeance--rather than render
+myself unworthy to clasp again your hand!"
+
+He presented the dagger to the prince, who, as pleased as surprised
+at this unexpected determination, hastily secured the terrible weapon
+beneath his own girdle; whilst the half-breed continued, in a voice of
+emotion: "Deep this kandjiar, my lord--and when you have seen and heard
+all that we go to hear and see--you shall either give me the dagger
+to strike a wretch--or the poison, to die without striking. You shall
+command; I will obey."
+
+Djalma was about to reply, when the coach stopped at the house inhabited
+by Sainte-Colombe. The prince and the half-caste, well enveloped in
+their mantles, entered a dark porch, and the door was closed after them.
+Faringhea exchanged a few words with the porter, and the latter gave him
+a key. The two Orientals soon arrived at Sainte-Colombe's apartments,
+which had two doors opening upon the landing-place, besides a private
+entrance from the courtyard. As he put the key into the lock, Faringhea
+said to Djalma, in an agitated voice: "Pity my weakness, my lord--but,
+at this terrible moment, I tremble and hesitate. It were perhaps better
+to doubt--or to forget!"
+
+Then, as the prince was about to answer, the half-caste exclaimed: "No!
+we must have no cowardice!" and, opening the door precipitately, he
+entered, followed by Djalma.
+
+When the door was again closed, the prince and the half-caste found
+themselves in a dark and narrow passage. "Your hand, my lord--let me
+guide you--walk lightly," said Faringhea, in a low whisper.
+
+He extended his hand to the prince, who took hold of it, and they
+both advanced silently through the darkness. After leading Djalma some
+distance, and opening and closing several doors, the half-caste stopped
+abruptly, and abandoning the hand which he had hitherto held, said to
+the prince: "My lord, the decisive moment approaches; let us wait here
+for a few seconds."
+
+A profound silence followed these words of the half-caste. The darkness
+was so complete, that Djalma could distinguish nothing. In about a
+minute, he heard Faringhea moving away from him; and then a door was
+suddenly opened, and as abruptly closed and locked. This circumstance
+made Djalma somewhat uneasy. By a mechanical movement, he laid his hand
+upon his dagger, and advanced cautiously towards the side, where he
+supposed the door to be.
+
+Suddenly, the half-caste's voice struck upon his ear, though it was
+impossible to guess whence it came. "My lord," it said, "you told me,
+you were my friend. I act as a friend. If I have employed stratagem
+to bring you hither, it is because the blindness of your fatal passion
+would otherwise have prevented your accompanying me. The Princess de
+Saint Dizier named to you Agricola Baudoin, the lover of Adrienne de
+Cardoville. Listen--look--judge!"
+
+The voice ceased. It appeared to have issued from one corner of the
+room. Djalma, still in darkness, perceived too late into what a snare he
+had fallen, and trembled with rage--almost with alarm.
+
+"Faringhea!" he exclaimed; "where am I? where are you? Open the door on
+your life! I would leave this place instantly."
+
+Extending his arms, the prince advanced hastily several steps, but he
+only touched a tapestried wall; he followed it, hoping to find the
+door, and he at length found it; but it was locked, and resisted all his
+efforts. He continued his researches, and came to a fireplace with no
+fire in it, and to a second door, equally fast. In a few moments, he
+had thus made the circle of the room, and found himself again at the
+fireplace. The anxiety of the prince increased more and more. He called
+Faringhea, in a voice trembling with passion. There was no answer.
+Profound silence reigned without, and complete darkness within. Ere
+long, a perfumed vapor, of indescribable sweetness, but very subtle and
+penetrating, spread itself insensibly through the little room in which
+Djalma was. It might be, that the orifice of a tube, passing through one
+of the doors of the room, introduced this balmy current. At the height
+of angry and terrible thoughts, Djalma paid no attention to this
+odor--but soon the arteries of his temples began to beat violently, a
+burning heat seemed to circulate rapidly through his veins, he felt a
+sensation of pleasure, his resentment died gradually away, and a mild,
+ineffable torpor crept over him, without his being fully conscious of
+the mental transformation that was taking place. Yet, by a last effort
+of the wavering will, Djalma advanced once more to try and open one
+of the doors; he found it indeed, but at this place the vapor was so
+strong, that its action redoubled, and, unable to move a step further,
+Djalma was obliged to support himself by leaning against the wall.(43)
+
+Then a strange thing happened. A faint light spread itself gradually
+through an adjoining apartment, and Djalma now perceived, for the first
+time, the existence of a little round window, in the wall of the room in
+which he was. On the side of the prince, this opening was protected by
+a slight but strong railing, which hardly intercepted the view. On the
+other side a thick piece of plate-glass was fixed at the distance of two
+or three inches from the railing in question. The room, which Djalma saw
+through this window, and through which the faint light was now gradually
+spreading, was richly furnished. Between two windows, hung with crimson
+silk curtains, stood a kind of wardrobe, with a looking-glass front;
+opposite the fireplace in which glowed the burning coals, was a long,
+wide divan, furnished with cushions.
+
+In another second a woman entered this apartment. Her face and figure
+were invisible, being wrapped in a long, hooded mantle, of peculiar
+form, and a dark color. The sight of this mantle made Djalma start. To
+the pleasure he at first felt succeeded a feverish anxiety, like the
+growing fumes of intoxication. There was that strange buzzing in his
+ears which we experience when we plunge into deep waters. It was in a
+kind of delirium that Djalma looked on at what was passing in the next
+room. The woman who had just appeared entered with caution, almost with
+fear. Drawing aside one of the window curtains, she glanced through
+the closed blinds into the street. Then she returned slowly to the
+fireplace, where she stood for a moment pensive, still carefully
+enveloped in her mantle. Completely yielding to the influence of the
+vapor, which deprived him of his presence of mind--forgetting Faringhea,
+and all the circumstances that had accompanied his arrival at this
+house--Djalma concentrated all the powers of his attention on the
+spectacle before him, at which he seemed to be present as in a dream.
+
+Suddenly Djalma saw the woman leave the fireplace and advance towards
+the looking-glass. Turning her face toward it, she allowed the mantle
+to glide down to her feet. Djalma was thunderstruck. He saw the face
+of Adrienne de Cardoville. Yes, Adrienne, as he had seen her the night
+before, attired as during her interview with the Princess de Saint
+Dizier--the light green dress, the rose-colored ribbons, the white
+head ornaments. A network of white beads concealed her back hair, and
+harmonized admirably with the shining gold of her ringlets. Finally, as
+far as the Hindoo could judge through the railing and the thick glass,
+and in the faint light, it was the figure of Adrienne, with her marble
+shoulders and swan-like neck, so proud and so graceful. In a word, he
+could not, he did not doubt that it was Adrienne de Cardoville. Djalma
+was bathed in a burning dew, his dizzy excitement increased, and, with
+bloodshot eye and heaving bosom, he remained motionless, gazing almost
+without the power of thought. The young lady, with her back still
+turned towards Djalma, arranged her hair with graceful art, took off the
+network which formed her head-dress, placed it on the chimney-piece, and
+began to unfasten her gown; then, withdrawing from the looking-glass,
+she disappeared for an instant from Djalma's view.
+
+"She is expecting Agricola Baudoin, her lover," said a voice, which
+seemed to proceed from the wall of the dark room in which Djalma was.
+
+Notwithstanding his bewilderment, these terrible words, "She is
+expecting Agricola Baudoin, her lover," passed like a stream of fire
+through the brain and heart of the prince. A cloud of blood came over
+his eyes, he uttered a hollow moan, which the thickness of the glass
+prevented from being heard in the next room, and broke his nails in
+attempting to tear down the iron railing before the window.
+
+Having reached this paroxysm of delirious rage, Djalma saw the uncertain
+light grow still fainter, as if it had been discreetly obscured, and,
+through the vapory shadow that hung before him, he perceived the young
+lady returning, clad in a long white dressing-gown, and with her
+golden curls floating over her naked arms and shoulders. She advanced
+cautiously in the direction of a door which was hid from Djalma's view.
+At this moment, one of the doors of the apartment in which the prince
+was concealed was gently opened by an invisible hand. Djalma noticed it
+by the click of the lock, and by the current of fresh air which streamed
+upon his face, for he could see nothing. This door, left open for
+Djalma, like that in the next room, to which the young lady had drawn
+near, led to a sort of ante-chamber communicating with the stairs, which
+some one now rapidly ascended, and, stopping short, knocked twice at the
+outer door.
+
+"Here comes Agricola Baudoin. Look and listen!" said the same voice that
+the prince had already heard.
+
+Mad, intoxicated, but with the fixed idea and reckless determination of
+a madman or a drunkard, Djalma drew the dagger which Faringhea had left
+in his possession, and stood in motionless expectation. Hardly were the
+two knocks heard before the young lady quitted the apartment, from which
+streamed a faint ray of light, ran to the door of the staircase, so that
+some faint glimmer reached the place where Djalma stood watching, his
+dagger in his hand. He saw the young lady pass across the ante-chamber,
+and approach the door of the staircase, where she said in a whisper:
+"Who is there?"
+
+"It is I--Agricola Baudoin," answered, from, without, a manly voice.
+
+What followed was rapid as lightning, and must be conceived rather than
+described. Hardly had the young lady drawn the bolt of the door, hardly
+had Agricola Baudoin stepped across the threshold, than Djalma, with the
+bound of a tiger, stabbed as it were at once, so rapid were the strokes,
+both the young lady, who fell dead on the floor, and Agricola, who sank,
+dangerously wounded, by the side of the unfortunate victim. This
+scene of murder, rapid as thought, took place in the midst of a half
+obscurity. Suddenly the faint light from the chamber was completely
+extinguished, and a second after, Djalma felt his arm seized in the
+darkness by an iron grasp, and the voice of Faringhea whispered: "You
+are avenged. Come; we can secure our retreat." Inert, stupefied at what
+he had done, Djalma offered no resistance, and let himself be dragged
+by the half-caste into the inner apartment, from which there was another
+way out.
+
+When Rodin had exclaimed, in his admiration of the generative power
+of thought, that the word NECKLACE had been the germ of the infernal
+project he then contemplated, it was, that chance had brought to his
+mind the remembrance of the too famous affair of the diamond necklace,
+in which a woman, thanks to her vague resemblance to Queen Marie
+Antoinette, being dressed like that princess, and favored by the
+uncertainty of a twilight, had played so skillfully the part of her
+unfortunate sovereign, as to make the Cardinal Prince de Rohan, though
+familiar with the court, the complete dupe of the illusion. Having once
+determined on his execrable design, Rodin had sent Jacques Dumoulin to
+Sainte-Colombe, without telling him the real object of his mission, to
+ask this experienced woman to procure a fine young girl, tall, and
+with red hair. Once found, a costume exactly resembling that worn by
+Adrienne, and of which the Princess de Saint-Dizier gave the description
+to Rodin (though herself ignorant of this new plot), was to complete the
+deception. The rest is known, or may be guessed. The unfortunate girl,
+who acted as Adrienne's double, believed she was only aiding in a jest.
+As for Agricola, he had received a letter, in which he was invited to
+a meeting that might be of the greatest importance to Mdlle. de
+Cardoville.
+
+(43) See the strange effect of hasheesh. To the effect of this is
+attributed the kind of hallucination which seized on those unhappy
+persons, whom the Prince of the Assassins (the Old Man of the Mountain)
+used as the instruments of his vengeance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXV. THE NUPTIAL BED.
+
+The mild light of a circular lamp of oriental alabaster, suspended from
+the ceiling by three silver chains, spreads a faint lustre through the
+bed-chamber of Adrienne de Cardoville.
+
+The large ivory bedstead, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, is not at present
+occupied, and almost disappears beneath snowy curtains of lace
+and muslin, transparent and vapory as clouds. On the white marble
+mantlepiece, from beneath which the fire throws ruddy beams on the
+ermine carpet, is the usual basket filled with a bush of red camellias,
+in the midst of their shining green leaves. A pleasant aromatic odor,
+rising from a warm and perfumed bath in the next room, penetrates every
+corner of the bed-chamber. All without is calm and silent. It is hardly
+eleven o'clock. The ivory door, opposite to that which leads to the
+bath-room, opens slowly. Djalma appears. Two hours have elapsed since he
+committed a double murder, and believed that he had killed Adrienne in a
+fit of jealous fury.
+
+The servants of Mdlle. de Cardoville, accustomed to Djalma's daily
+visits, no longer announced his arrival, and admitted him without
+difficulty, having received no orders to the contrary from their
+mistress. He had never before entered the bed-chamber, but, knowing that
+the apartment the lady occupied was on the first floor of the house,
+he had easily found it. As he entered that virgin sanctuary, his
+countenance was pretty calm, so well did he control his feelings, only a
+slight paleness tarnished the brilliant amber of his complexion. He wore
+that day a robe of purple cashmere, striped with silver--a color which
+did not show the stains of blood upon it. Djalma closed the door after
+him, and tore off his white turban, for it seemed to him as if a band of
+hot iron encircled his brow. His dark hair streamed around his handsome
+face. He crossed his arms upon his bosom, and looked slowly about him.
+When his eyes rested on Adrienne's bed, he started suddenly, and his
+cheek grew purple. Then he drew his hand across his brow, hung down his
+head, and remained standing for some moments in a dream, motionless as a
+statue.
+
+After a mournful silence of a few seconds' duration, Djalma fell upon
+his knees, and raised his eyes to heaven. The Asiatic's countenance was
+bathed in tears, and no longer expressed any violent passion. On his
+features was no longer the stamp of hate, or despair, or the ferocious
+joy of vengeance gratified. It was rather the expression of grief at
+once simple and immense. For several minutes he was almost choked with
+sobs, and tears ran freely down his cheeks.
+
+"Dead! dead!" he murmured, in a half-stifled voice. "She, who this
+morning slept so peacefully in this chamber! And I have killed her. Now
+that she is dead, what is her treachery to me? I should not have killed
+her for that. She had betrayed me; she loved the man whom I slew--she
+loved him! Alas! I could not hope to gain the preference," added he,
+with a touching mixture of resignation and remorse; "I, poor, untaught
+youth--how could I merit her love? It was my fault that she did not love
+me; but, always generous, she concealed from me her indifference, that
+she might not make me too unhappy--and for that I killed her. What
+was her crime? Did she not meet me freely? Did she not open to me her
+dwelling? Did she not allow me to pass whole days with her? No doubt she
+tried to love me, and could not. I loved her with all the faculties of
+my soul, but my love was not such as she required. For that, I should
+not have killed her. But a fatal delusion seized me and, after it was
+done, I woke as from a dream. Alas! it was not a dream: I have killed
+her. And yet--until this evening--what happiness I owed to her--what
+hope--what joy! She made my heart better, nobler, more generous. All
+came from her," added the Indian, with a new burst of grief. "That
+remained with me--no one could take from me that treasure of the
+past--that ought to have consoled me. But why think of it? I struck them
+both--her and the man--without a struggle. It was a cowardly murder--the
+ferocity of the tiger that tears its innocent prey!"
+
+Djalma buried his face in his hands. Then, drying his tears, he resumed,
+"I know, clearly, that I mean to die also. But my death will not restore
+her to life!"
+
+He rose from the ground, and drew from his girdle Faringhea's bloody
+dagger; then, taking the little phial from the hilt, he threw the blood
+stained blade upon the ermine carpet, the immaculate whiteness of which
+was thus slightly stained with red.
+
+"Yes," resumed Djalma, holding the phial with a convulsive grasp, "I
+know well that I am about to die. It is right. Blood for blood; my life
+for hers. How happens it that my steel did not turn aside? How could I
+kill her?--but it is done--and my heart is full of remorse, and sorrow,
+an inexpressible tenderness--and I have come here--to die!
+
+"Here, in this chamber," he continued, "the heaven of my burning
+visions!" And then he added, with a heartrending accent, as he again
+buried his face in his hands, "Dead! dead!"
+
+"Well! I too shall soon be dead," he resumed, in a firmer voice.
+"But, no! I will die slowly, gradually. A few drops of the poison will
+suffice; and, when I am quite certain of dying, my remorse will perhaps
+be less terrible. Yesterday, she pressed my hand when we parted. Who
+could have foretold me this?" The Indian raised the phial resolutely to
+his lips. He drank a few drops of the liquor it contained, and replaced
+it on a little ivory table close to Adrienne's bed.
+
+"This liquor is sharp and hot," said he. "Now I am certain to die. Oh!
+that I may still have time to feast on the sight and perfume of this
+chamber--to lay my dying head on the couch where she has reposed."
+
+Djalma fell on his knees beside the bed, and leaned against it his
+burning brow. At this moment, the ivory door, which communicated with
+the bath-room, rolled gently on its hinges, and Adrienne entered. The
+young lady had just sent away her woman, who had assisted to undress
+her. She wore a long muslin wrapper of lustrous whiteness. Her golden
+hair, neatly arranged in little plaits, formed two bands, which gave
+to her sweet face an extremely juvenile air. Her snowy complexion was
+slightly tinged with rose-color, from the warmth of the perfumed bath,
+which she used for a few seconds every evening. When she opened the
+ivory door, and placed her little naked foot, in its white satin
+slipper, upon the ermine carpet, Adrienne was dazzlingly beautiful.
+Happiness sparkled in her eyes, and adorned her brow. All the
+difficulties relative to her union with Djalma had now been removed. In
+two days she would be his. The sight of the nuptial chamber oppressed
+her with a vague and ineffable languor. The ivory door had been opened
+so gently, the lady's first steps were so soft upon the fur carpet, that
+Djalma, still leaning against the bed, had heard nothing. But suddenly a
+cry of surprise and alarm struck upon his ear. He turned round abruptly.
+Adrienne stood before him.
+
+With an impulse of modesty, Adrienne closed her nightdress over her
+bosom, and hastily drew back, still more afflicted than angry at what
+she considered a guilty attempt on the part of Djalma. Cruelly hurt
+and offended, she was about to reproach him with his conduct, when she
+perceived the dagger, which he had thrown down upon the ermine carpet.
+At sight of this weapon, and the expression of fear and stupor which
+petrified the features of Djalma, who remained kneeling, motionless,
+with his body thrown back, hands stretched out, his eyes fixed and
+wildly staring Adrienne, no longer dreading an amorous surprise, was
+seized with an indescribable terror, and, instead of flying from the
+prince, advanced several steps towards him, and said, in an agitated
+voice, whilst she pointed to the kandjiar, "My friend, why are you here?
+what ails you? why this dagger?"
+
+Djalma made no answer. At first, the presence of Adrienne seemed to him
+a vision, which he attributed to the excitement of his brain, already
+(it might be) under the influence of the poison. But when the soft voice
+sounded in his ears--when his heart bounded with the species of electric
+shock, which he always felt when he met the gaze of that woman so
+ardently beloved--when he had contemplated for an instant that
+adorable face, so fresh and fair, in spite of its expression of deep
+uneasiness--Djalma understood that he was not the sport of a dream, but
+that Mdlle. de Cardoville was really before his eyes.
+
+Then, as he began fully to grasp the thought that Adrienne was not dead,
+though he could not at all explain the prodigy of her resurrection, the
+Hindoo's countenance was transfigured, the pale gold of his complexion
+became warm and red, his eyes (tarnished by tears of remorse) shone with
+new radiance, and his features, so lately contracted with terror and
+despair, expressed all the phases of the most ecstatic joy. Advancing,
+still on his knees, towards Adrienne, he lifted up to her his trembling
+hands, and, too deeply affected to pronounce a word, he gazed on her
+with so much amazement, love, adoration, gratitude, that the young lady,
+fascinated by those inexplicable looks, remained mute also, motionless
+also, and felt, by the precipitate beating of her heart, and by the
+shudder which ran through her frame, that there was here some dreadful
+mystery to be unfolded.
+
+At last, Djalma, clasping his hands together, exclaimed with an accent
+impossible to describe, "Thou art not dead!"
+
+"Dead!" repeated the young lady, in amazement.
+
+"It was not thou, really not thou, whom I killed? God is kind and just!"
+
+And as he pronounced these words with intense joy, the unfortunate youth
+forgot the victim whom he had sacrificed in error.
+
+More and more alarmed, and again glancing at the dagger en which she now
+perceived marks of blood--a terrible evidence, in confirmation of the
+words of Djalma--Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed, "You have killed some
+one, Djalma! Oh! what does he say? It is dreadful!"
+
+"You are alive--I see you--you are here," said Djalma, in a voice
+trembling with rapture. "You are here--beautiful! pure! for it was not
+you! Oh, no! had it been you, the steel would have turned back upon
+myself."
+
+"You have killed some one?" cried the young lady, beside her with this
+unforeseen revelation, and clasping her hands in horror. "Why? whom did
+you kill?"
+
+"I do not know. A woman that was like you--a man that I thought your
+lover--it was an illusion, a frightful dream--you are alive--you are
+here!"
+
+And the oriental wept for joy.
+
+"A dream? but no, it is not a dream. There is blood upon that dagger!"
+cried the young lady, as she pointed wildly to the kandjiar. "I tell you
+there is blood upon it!"
+
+"Yes. I threw it down just now, when I took the poison from it, thinking
+that I had killed you."
+
+"The poison!" exclaimed Adrienne, and her teeth chattered convulsively.
+"What poison?"
+
+"I thought I had killed you, and I came here to die."
+
+"To die? Oh! wherefore? who is to die?" cried the young lady, almost in
+delirium.
+
+"I," replied Djalma, with inexpressible tenderness, "I thought I had
+killed you--and I took poison."
+
+"You!" exclaimed Adrienne, becoming pale as death. "You!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh! it is not true!" said the young lady, shaking her head.
+
+"Look!" said the Asiatic. Mechanically, he turned towards the
+bed--towards the little ivory table, on which sparkled the crystal
+phial.
+
+With a sudden movement, swifter than thought, swifter, it may be, than
+the will, Adrienne rushed to the table, seized the phial, and applied it
+eagerly to her lips.
+
+Djalma had hitherto remained on his knees; but he now uttered a terrible
+cry, made one spring to the drinker's side, and dragged away the phial,
+which seemed almost glued to her mouth.
+
+"No matter! I have swallowed as much as you," said Adrienne, with an air
+of gloomy triumph.
+
+For an instant, there followed an awful silence. Adrienne and Djalma
+gazed upon each other, mute, motionless, horror-struck. The young lady
+was the first to break this mournful silence, and said in a tone which
+she tried to make calm and steady, "Well! what is there extraordinary in
+this? You have killed, and death most expiate your crime. It is just. I
+will not survive you. That also is natural enough. Why look at me thus?
+This poison has a sharp taste--does it act quickly! Tell me, my Djalma!"
+
+The prince did not answer. Shuddering through all his frame, he looked
+down upon his hands. Faringhea had told the truth; a slight violet
+tint appeared already beneath the nails. Death was approaching, slowly,
+almost insensibly, but not the less certain. Overwhelmed with despair
+at the thought that Adrienne, too, was about to die, Djalma felt his
+courage fail him. He uttered a long groan, and hid his face in his
+hands. His knees shook under him, and he felt down upon the bed, near
+which he was standing.
+
+"Already?" cried the young lady in horror, as she threw herself on her
+knees at Djalma's feet. "Death already? Do you hide your face from me?"
+
+In her fright, she pulled his hands from before his face. That face was
+bathed in tears.
+
+"No, not yet," murmured he, through his sobs. "The poison is slow."
+
+"Really!" cried Adrienne, with ineffable joy. Then, kissing the hands of
+Djalma, she added tenderly, "If the poison is slow, why do you weep?"
+
+"For you! for you!" said the Indian, in a heart-rending tone.
+
+"Think not of me," replied Adrienne, resolutely. "You have killed, and
+we must expiate the crime. I know not what has taken place; but I swear
+by our love that you did not do evil for evil's sake. There is some
+horrible mystery in all this."
+
+"On a pretence which I felt bound to believe," replied Djalma, speaking
+quickly, and panting for breath, "Faringhea led me to a certain house.
+Once there, he told me that you had betrayed me. I did not believe him,
+but I know not what strange dizziness seized upon me--and then, through
+a half-obscurity, I saw you--"
+
+"Me!"
+
+"No--not you--but a woman resembling you, dressed like you, so that I
+believed the illusion--and then there came a man--and you flew to meet
+him--and I--mad with rage--stabbed her, stabbed him, saw them fall--and
+so came here to die. And now I find you only to cause your death. Oh,
+misery! misery! that you should die through me!"
+
+And Djalma, this man of formidable energy, began again to weep with
+the weakness of a child. At sight of this deep, touching, passionate
+despair, Adrienne, with that admirable courage which women alone possess
+in love, thought only of consoling Djalma. By an effort of superhuman
+passion, as the prince revealed to her this infernal plot, the lady's
+countenance became so splendid with an expression of love and happiness,
+that the East Indian looked at her in amazement, fearing for an instant
+that he must have lost his reason.
+
+"No more tears, my adored!" cried the young lady, exultingly. "No more
+tears--but only smiles of joy and love! Our cruel enemies shall not
+triumph!"
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"They wished to make us miserable. We pity them. Our felicity shall be
+the envy of the world!"
+
+"Adrienne--bethink you--"
+
+"Oh! I have all my senses about me. Listen to me, my adored! I now
+understand it all. Falling into a snare, which these wretches spread for
+you, you have committed murder. Now, in this country, murder leads to
+infamy, or the scaffold--and to-morrow--to-night, perhaps--you would be
+thrown into prison. But our enemies have said: 'A man like Prince Djalma
+does not wait for infamy--he kills himself. A woman like Adrienne de
+Cardoville does not survive the disgrace or death of her lover--she
+prefers to die.'"
+
+"Therefore a frightful death awaits them both," said the black-robed
+men; "and that immense inheritance, which we covet--'"
+
+"And for you--so young, so beautiful so innocent--death is frightful,
+and these monsters triumph!" cried Djalma. "They have spoken the truth!"
+
+"They have lied!" answered Adrienne. "Our death shall be celestial. This
+poison is slow--and I adore you, my Djalma!"
+
+She spoke those words in a low voice, trembling with passionate love,
+and, leaning upon Djalma's knees, approached so near, that he felt her
+warm breath upon his cheek. As he felt that breath, and saw the humid
+flame that darted from the large, swimming eyes of Adrienne, whose half
+opened lips were becoming of a still deeper and brighter hue, the Indian
+started--his young blood boiled in his veins--he forgot everything--his
+despair, and the approach of death, which as yet (as with Adrienne),
+only showed itself in a kind of feverish ardor. His face, like the young
+girl's, became once more splendidly beautiful.
+
+"Oh, my lover! my husband! how beautiful you are!" said Adrienne, with
+idolatry. "Those eyes--that brow--those lips--how I love them!--How many
+times has the remembrance of your grace and beauty, coupled with your
+love, unsettled my reason, and shaken my resolves--even to this moment,
+when I am wholly yours!--Yes, heaven wills that we should be united.
+Only this morning, I gave to the apostolic man, that was to bless our
+union, in thy name and mine, a royal gift--a gift, that will bring joy
+and peace to the heart of many an unfortunate creature. Then what have
+we to regret, my beloved? Our immortal souls will pass away in a kiss,
+and ascend, full of love, to that God who is all love!"
+
+"Adrienne!"
+
+"Djalma!"
+
+The light, transparent curtains fell like a cloud over that nuptial and
+funereal couch. Yes, funereal; for, two hours after, Adrienne and Djalma
+breathed their last sigh in a voluptuous agony.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVI. A DUEL TO THE DEATH.
+
+Adrienne and Djalma died on the 30th of May. The following scene took
+place on the 31st, the eve of the day appointed for the last convocation
+of the heirs of Marius de Rennepont. The reader will no doubt remember
+the room occupied by M. Hardy, in the "house of retreat," in the Rue de
+Vaugirard--a gloomy and retired apartment, opening on a dreary little
+garden, planted with yew-trees, and surrounded by high walls. To reach
+this chamber, it was necessary to cross two vast rooms, the doors of
+which, once shut, intercepted all noise and communication from without.
+Bearing this in mind, we may go on with our narrative. For the last
+three or four days, Father d'Aigrigny occupied this apartment. He had
+not chosen it, but had been induced to accept it, under most plausible
+pretexts, given him at the instigation of Rodin. It was about noon.
+Seated in an arm-chair, by the window opening on the little garden,
+Father d'Aigrigny held in his hand a newspaper, in which he read as
+follows, under the head of "Paris:"
+
+"Eleven p.m.--A most horrible and tragical event has just excited the
+greatest consternation in the quarter of the Rue de Richelieu. A double
+murder has been committed, on the person of a young man and woman.
+The girl was killed on the spot, by the stroke of a dagger; hopes are
+entertained of saving the life of the young man. The crime is attributed
+to jealousy. The officers of justice are investigating the matter. We
+shall give full particulars tomorrow."
+
+When he had read these lines, Father d'Aigrigny threw down the paper and
+remained in deep thought.
+
+"It is incredible," said he, with bitter envy, in allusion to Rodin. "He
+has attained his end. Hardly one of his anticipations has been defeated.
+This family is annihilated, by the mere play of the passions, good and
+evil that he has known how to set in motion. He said it would be so.
+Oh! I must confess," added Father d'Aigrigny, with a jealous and hateful
+smile, "that Rodin is a man of rare dissimulation, patience, energy,
+obstinacy and intelligence. Who would have told a few months ago, when
+he wrote under my orders, a discreet and humble socius, that he had
+already conceived the most audacious ambition, and dared to lift his
+eyes to the Holy See itself? that, thanks to intrigues and corruption,
+pursued with wondrous ability, these views were not so unreasonable?
+Nay, that this infernal ambition would soon be realized, were it not
+that the secret proceedings of this dangerous man have long been as
+secretly watched?--Ah!" sneered Father d'Aigrigny, with a smile of
+irony and triumph, "you wish to be a second Sixtus V., do you? And,
+not content with this audacious pretension, you mean, if successful, to
+absorb our Company in the Papacy, even as the Sultan has absorbed the
+Janissaries. Ah! You would make us your stepping-stone to power! And you
+have thought to humiliate and crush me with your insolent disdain! But
+patience, patience: the day of retribution approaches. I alone am the
+depository of our General's will. Father Caboccini himself does not
+know that. The fate of Rodin is in my hands. Oh! it will not be what he
+expects. In this Rennepont affair (which, I must needs confess, he has
+managed admirably), he thinks to outwit us all, and to work only for
+himself. But to-morrow--"
+
+Father d'Aigrigny was suddenly disturbed in these agreeable reflections.
+He heard the door of the next room open, and, as he turned round to see
+who was coming, the door of the apartment in which he was turned upon
+its hinges. Father d'Aigrigny started with surprise, and became almost
+purple. Marshal Simon stood before him. And, behind the marshal, in the
+shadow of the door, Father d'Aigrigny perceived the cadaverous face
+of Rodin. The latter cast on him one glance of diabolical delight, and
+instantly disappeared. The door was again closed, and Father d'Aigrigny
+and Marshal Simon were left alone together. The father of Rose and
+Blanche was hardly recognizable. His gray hair had become completely
+white. His pale, thin face had not been shaved for some days. His hollow
+eyes were bloodshot and restless, and had in them something wild and
+haggard. He was wrapped in a large cloak, and his black cravat was tied
+loosely about his neck. In withdrawing from the apartment, Rodin had (as
+if by inadvertence) double-locked the door on the outside. When he
+was alone with the Jesuit, the marshal threw back his cloak from his
+shoulders, and Father d'Aigrigny could see two naked swords, stuck
+through a silk handkerchief which served him as a belt.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny understood it all. He remembered how, a few days
+before, Rodin had obstinately pressed him to say what he would do if the
+marshal were to strike him in the face. There could be no doubt that
+he, who thought to have held the fate of Rodin in his hands, had been
+brought by the latter into a fearful peril; for he knew that, the two
+outer rooms being closed, there was no possibility of making himself
+heard, and that the high walls of the garden only bordered upon some
+vacant lots. The first thought which occurred to him, one by no means
+destitute of probability, was that Rodin, either by his agents at Rome,
+or by his own incredible penetration, had learned that his fate
+depended on Father d'Aigrigny, and hoped therefore to get rid of him,
+by delivering him over to the inexorable vengeance of the father of
+Rose and Blanche. Without speaking a word, the marshal unbound the
+handkerchief from his waist, laid the two swords upon the table,
+and, folding his arms upon his breast, advanced slowly towards Father
+d'Aigrigny. Thus these two men, who through life had pursued each other
+with implacable hatred, at length met face to face--they, who had fought
+in hostile armies, and measured swords in single combat, and one of whom
+now came to seek vengeance for the death of his children. As the marshal
+approached, Father d'Aigrigny rose from his seat. He wore that day a
+black cassock, which rendered still more visible the pale hue, which had
+now succeeded to the sudden flush on his cheek. For a few seconds, the
+two men stood face to face without speaking. The marshal was terrific
+in his paternal despair. His calmness, inexorable as fate, was more
+impressive than the most furious burst of anger.
+
+"My children are dead," said he at last, in a slow and hollow tone. "I
+come to kill you."
+
+"Sir," cried Father d'Aigrigny, "listen to me. Do not believe--"
+
+"I must kill you," resumed the marshal, interrupting the Jesuit; "your
+hate followed my wife into exile, where she perished. You and your
+accomplices sent my children to certain death. For twenty years you have
+been my evil genius. I must have your life, and I will have it."
+
+"My life belongs, first, to God," answered Father d'Aigrigny, piously,
+"and then to who likes to take it."
+
+"We will fight to the death in this room," said the marshal; "and, as I
+have to avenge my wife and children, I am tranquil as to the result."
+
+"Sir," answered Father d'Aigrigny, coldly, "you forget that my
+profession forbids me to fight. Once I accepted your challenge--but my
+position is changed since then."
+
+"Ah!" said the marshal, with a bitter smile; "you refuse to fight
+because you are a priest?"
+
+"Yes, sir--because I am a priest."
+
+"So that, because he is a priest, a wretch like you may commit any
+crime, any baseness, under shelter of his black gown?"
+
+"I do not understand a word of your accusations. In any case, the law is
+open," said Father d'Aigrigny, biting his pale lips, for he felt deeply
+the insult offered by the marshal; "if you have anything to complain of,
+appeal to that law, before which all are equal."
+
+Marshal Simon shrugged his shoulders in angry disdain. "Your crimes
+escape the law--and, could it even reach you, that would not satisfy my
+vengeance, after all the evil you have done me, after all you have taken
+from me," said the marshal; and, at the memory of his children, his
+voice slightly trembled; but he soon proceeded, with terrible calmness:
+"You must feel that I now only live for vengeance. And I must have
+such revenge as is worth the seeking--I must have your coward's heart
+palpitating on the point of my sword. Our last duel was play; this will
+be earnest--oh! you shall see."
+
+The marshal walked up to the table, where he had laid the two swords.
+Father d'Aigrigny needed all his resolution to restrain himself. The
+implacable hate which he had always felt for Marshal Simon, added to
+these insults, filled him with savage ardor. Yet he answered, in a tone
+that was still calm: "For the last time, sir, I repeat to you, that my
+profession forbids me to fight."
+
+"Then you refuse?" said the marshal, turning abruptly towards him.
+
+"I refuse."
+
+"Positively?"
+
+"Positively. Nothing on earth should force me to it."
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"No, sir; nothing."
+
+"We shall see," said the marshal, as his hand fell with its full force
+on the cheek of Father d'Aigrigny.
+
+The Jesuit uttered a cry of fury; all his blood rushed to his face, so
+roughly handled; the courage of the man (for he was brave), his ancient
+military ardor, carried him away; his eyes sparkled, and, with teeth
+firmly set, and clenched fists, he advanced towards the marshal,
+exclaiming: "The swords! the swords!"
+
+But suddenly, remembering the appearance of Rodin, and the interest
+which the latter had in bringing about this encounter, he determined to
+avoid the diabolical snare laid by his former socius, and so gathered
+sufficient resolution to restrain his terrible resentment.
+
+To his passing fury succeeded a calm, full of contrition; and, wishing
+to play his part out to the end, he knelt down, and bowing his head
+and beating his bosom, repeated: "Forgive me, Lord, for yielding to a
+movement of rage! and, above all, forgive him who has injured me!"
+
+In spite of his apparent resignation, the Jesuit's voice was neatly
+agitated. He seemed to feel a hot iron upon his cheek, for never before
+in his life, whether as a soldier or a priest, had he suffered such
+an insult. He had thrown himself upon his knees, partly from religious
+mummery, and partly to avoid the gaze of the marshal, fearing that, were
+he to meet his eye, he should not be able to answer for himself, but
+give way to his impetuous feelings. On seeing the Jesuit kneel down, and
+on hearing his hypocritical invocation, the marshal, whose sword was in
+his hand, shook with indignation.
+
+"Stand up, scoundrel!" he said, "stand up, wretch!" And he spurned the
+Jesuit with his boot.
+
+At this new insult, Father d'Aigrigny leaped up, as if he had been moved
+by steel springs. It was too much; he could bear no more. Blinded with
+rage, he rushed to the able, caught up the other sword, and exclaimed,
+grinding his teeth together: "Ah! you will have blood. Well then! it
+shall be yours--if possible!"
+
+And the Jesuit, still in all the vigor of manhood, his face purple, his
+large gray eyes sparkling with hate, fell upon his guard with the ease
+and skill of a finished swordsman.
+
+"At last!" cried the marshal, as their blades were about to cross.
+
+But once more reflection came to damp the fire of the Jesuit. He
+remembered how this hazardous duel would gratify the wishes of Rodin,
+whose fate was in his hands, and whom he hated perhaps even more than
+the marshal. Therefore, in spite of the fury which possessed him,
+in spite of his secret hope to conquer in this combat, so strong and
+healthy did he feel himself, and so fatal had been the effects of grief
+on the constitution of Marshal Simon, he succeeded in mastering his
+rage, and, to the amazement of the marshal, dropped the point of his
+sword, exclaiming: "I am a minister of the Lord, and must not shed
+blood. Forgive ne, heaven! and, oh! forgive my brother also."
+
+Then placing the blade beneath his heel, he drew the hilt suddenly
+towards him, and broke the weapon into two pieces. The duel was no
+longer possible. Father d'Aigrigny had put it out of his own power to
+yield to a new burst of violence, of which he saw the imminent danger.
+Marshal Simon remained for an instant mute and motionless with surprise
+and indignation, for he also saw that the duel was now impossible. But,
+suddenly, imitating the Jesuit, the marshal placed his blade also
+under his heel, broke it in half, and picking up the pointed end, about
+eighteen inches in length tore off his black silk cravat, rolled
+it round the broken part so as to form a handle, and said to Father
+d'Aigrigny: "Then we will fight with daggers."
+
+Struck with this mixture of coolness and ferocity, the Jesuit exclaimed:
+"Is this then a demon of hell?"
+
+"No; it is a father, whose children have been murdered," said the
+marshal, in a hollow voice, whilst he fitted the blade to his hand, and
+a tear stood in the eye, that instantly after became fierce and ardent.
+
+The Jesuit saw that tear. There was in this mixture of vindictive rage
+and paternal grief something so awful, and yet so sacred, that for the
+first time in his life Father d'Aigrigny felt fear--cowardly, ignoble
+fear--fear for his own safety. While a combat with swords was in
+question, in which skill, agility, and experience are such powerful
+auxiliaries to courage, his only difficulty had been to repress the
+ardor of his hate--but when he thought of the combat proposed, body
+to body, face to face, heart to heart, he trembled, grew pale, and
+exclaimed: "A butchery with knives?--never!"
+
+His countenance and the accent betrayed his alarm, so that the marshal
+himself was struck with it, and fearing to lose his revenge, he cried:
+"After all, he is a coward! The wretch had only the courage or
+the vanity of a fencer. This pitiful renegade--this traitor to
+his country--whom I have cuffed, kicked--yes, kicked, most noble
+marquis!--shame of your ancient house--disgrace to the rank of
+gentleman, old or new--ah! it is not hypocrisy, it is not calculation,
+as I at first thought--it is fear! You need the noise of war, and the
+eyes of spectators to give you courage--"
+
+"Sir--have a care!" said Father d'Aigrigny, stammering through his
+clenched teeth, for rage and hate now made him forget his fear-"Must I
+then spit on you, to make the little blood you have left rise to your
+face?" cried the exasperated marshal.
+
+"Oh! this is too much! too much!" said the Jesuit, seizing the pointed
+piece of the blade that lay at his feet.
+
+"It is not enough!" said the marshal, panting for breath. "There,
+Judas!" and he spat in his face.
+
+"If you will not fight now," added the marshal, "I will beat you like a
+dog, base child-murderer!"
+
+On receiving the uttermost insult which can be offered to an already
+insulted man, Father d'Aigrigny lost all his presence of mind, forgot
+his interests, his resolutions, his fears, forgot even Rodin--felt only
+the frenzied ardor of revenge--and, recovering his courage, rejoiced
+in the prospect of a close struggle, in which his superior strength
+promised success over the enfeebled frame of the marshal for, in this
+kind of brutal and savage combat, physical strength offers an immense
+advantage. In an instant, Father d'Aigrigny had rolled his handkerchief
+round the broken blade, and rushed upon Marshal Simon, who received the
+shock with intrepidity. For the short time that this unequal struggle
+lasted--unequal, for the marshal had since some days been a prey to a
+devouring fever, which had undermined his strength--the two combatants,
+mute in their fury, uttered not a word or a cry. Had any one been
+present at this horrible scene, it would have been impossible for him
+to tell how they dealt their blows. He would have seen two
+heads--frightful, livid, convulsed--rising, falling, now here,
+now there--arms, now stiff as bars of iron, and now twisting like
+serpents--and, in the midst of the undulation of the blue coat of the
+marshal and the black cassock of the Jesuit, from time to time the
+sudden gleam of the steel. He would have heard only a dull stamping,
+and now and then a deep breath. In about two minutes at most, the two
+adversaries fell, and rolled one over the other. One of them--it was
+Father d'Aigrigny--contrived to disengage himself with a violent effort,
+and to rise upon his knees. His arms fell powerless by his side; and
+then the dying voice of the marshal murmured: "My children! Dagobert!"
+
+"I have killed him," said Father d'Aigrigny, in a weak voice; "but I
+feel--that I am wounded--to death."
+
+Leaning with one hand on the ground, the Jesuit pressed the other to
+his bosom. His black cassock was pierced through and through, but the
+blades, which had served for the combat, being triangular and very
+sharp, the blood instead of issuing from the wounds, was flowing
+inwards.
+
+"Oh! I die--I choke," said Father d'Aigrigny, whose features were
+already changing with the approach of death.
+
+At this moment, the key turned twice in the door, Rodin appeared on the
+threshold, and, thrusting in his head, he said in a humble and discreet
+voice: "May I come in?"
+
+At this dreadful irony, Father d'Aigrigny strove to rise, and rush upon
+Rodin; but he fell back exhausted; the blood was choking him.
+
+"Monster of hell!" he muttered, casting on Rodin a terrible glance of
+rage and agony. "Thou art the cause of my death."
+
+"I always told you, my dear father, that your old military habits would
+be fatal to you," answered Rodin with a frightful smile. "Only a few
+days ago, I gave you warning, and advised you take a blow patiently from
+this old swordsman--who seems to have done with that work forever, which
+is well--for the Scripture says: 'All they that take the sword shall
+perish with the sword.' And then this Marshal Simon might have had some
+claim on his daughter's inheritance. And, between ourselves, my dear
+father, what was I to do? It was necessary to sacrifice you for the
+common interest; the rather, that I well knew what you had in pickle for
+me to-morrow. But I am not so easily caught napping."
+
+"Before I die," said Father d'Aigrigny, in a failing voice, "I will
+unmask you."
+
+"Oh, no, you will not," said Rodin, shaking his head with a knowing air;
+"I alone, if you please, will receive your last confession."
+
+"Oh! this is horrible," moaned Father d'Aigrigny, whose eyes were
+closing. "May God have mercy on me, if it is not too late!--Alas! at
+this awful moment, I feel that I have been a great sinner--"
+
+"And, above all, a great fool," said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders, and
+watching with cold disdain the dying moments of his accomplice.
+
+Father d'Aigrigny had now but a few minutes more to live. Rodin
+perceived it, and said: "It is time to call for help." And the Jesuit
+ran, with an air of alarm and consternation, into the courtyard of the
+house.
+
+Others came at his cries; but, as he had promised, Rodin had only
+quitted Father d'Aigrigny as the latter had breathed his last sigh.
+
+That evening, alone in his chamber, by the glimmer of a little lamp,
+Rodin sat plunged in a sort of ecstatic contemplation, before the print
+representing Sixtus V. The great house-clock struck twelve. At the last
+stroke, Rodin drew himself up in all the savage majesty of his infernal
+triumph, and exclaimed: "This is the first of June. There are no more
+Renneponts!--Methinks, I hear the hour from the clock of St. Peter's at
+Rome striking!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVII. A MESSAGE.
+
+While Rodin sat plunged in ambitious reverie, contemplating the portrait
+of Sixtus V., good little Father Caboccini, whose warm embraces had
+so much irritated the first mentioned personage, went secretly to
+Faringhea, to deliver to him a fragment of an ivory crucifix, and
+said to him with his usual air of jovial good-nature: "His Excellency
+Cardinal Malipieri, on my departure from Rome, charged me to give you
+this only on the 31st of May."
+
+The half-caste, who was seldom affected by anything, started abruptly,
+almost with an expression of pain. His face darkened, and bending upon
+the little father a piercing look, he said to him: "You were to add
+something."
+
+"True," replied Father Caboccini; "the words I was to add are these:
+'There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.'"
+
+"It is well," said the other. Heaving a deep sigh, he joined the
+fragment of the ivory crucifix to a piece already in his possession; it
+fitted exactly.
+
+Father Caboccini looked at him with curiosity, for the cardinal had only
+told him to deliver the ivory fragment to Faringhea, and to repeat the
+above words. Being somewhat mystified with all this, the reverend father
+said to the half-caste: "What are you going to do with that crucifix?"
+
+"Nothing," said Faringhea, still absorbed in painful thought.
+
+"Nothing?" resumed the reverend father, in astonishment. "What, then,
+was the use of bringing it so far?"
+
+Without satisfying his curiosity, Faringhea replied: "At what hour to
+morrow does Father Rodin go to the Rue Saint Francois?"
+
+"Very early."
+
+"Before leaving home, he will go to say prayers in the chapel?"
+
+"Yes, according to the habit of our reverend fathers."
+
+"You sleep near him?"
+
+"Being his socius, I occupy the room next to his."
+
+"It is possible," said Faringhea, after a moment's silence, "that the
+reverend father, full of the great interests which occupy his mind,
+might forget to go to the chapel. In that case, pray remind him of this
+pious duty."
+
+"I shall not fail."
+
+"Pray do not fail," repeated Faringhea, anxiously.
+
+"Be satisfied," said the good little father; "I see that you take great
+interest in his salvation."
+
+"Great interest."
+
+"It is very praiseworthy in you. Continue as you have begun, and you
+may one day belong, completely to our Company," said Father Caboccini,
+affectionately.
+
+"I am as yet but a poor auxiliary member," said Faringhea, humbly; "but
+no one is more devoted to the Society, body and soul. Bowanee is nothing
+to it."
+
+"Bowanee! who is that, my good friend?"
+
+"Bowanee makes corpses which rot in the ground. The Society makes
+corpses which walk about."
+
+"Ah, yes! Perinde ac cadaver--they were the last words of our great
+saint, Ignatius de Loyola. But who is this Bowanee?"
+
+"Bowanee is to the Society what a child is to a man," replied the
+Asiatic, with growing excitement. "Glory to the Company--glory! Were my
+father its enemy, I would kill my father. The man whose genius inspires
+me most with admiration, respect, and terror--were he its enemy, I would
+kill, in spite of all," said the half-caste, with an effort. Then, after
+a moment's silence, he looked full in Caboccini's face, and added: "I
+say this, that you may report my words to Cardinal Malipieri, and beg
+him to mention them to--"
+
+Faringhea stopped short. "To whom should the cardinal mention your
+words?" asked Caboccini.
+
+"He knows," replied the half-caste, abruptly. "Good night!"
+
+"Good-night, my friend! I can only approve of your excellent sentiments
+with regard to our Company. Alas! it is in want of energetic defenders,
+for there are said to be traitors in its bosom."
+
+"For those," said Faringhea, "we must have no pity."
+
+"Certainly," said the good little father; "we understand one another."
+
+"Perhaps," said the half-caste. "Do not, at all events, forget to remind
+Father Rodin to go to chapel to-morrow morning."
+
+"I will take care of that," said Father Caboccini.
+
+The two men parted. On his return to the house, Caboccini learned that
+a courier, only arrived that night from Rome, had brought despatches to
+Rodin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXVIII. THE FIRST OF JUNE.
+
+The chapel belonging to the house of the reverend fathers in the Rue de
+Vaugirard, was gay and elegant. Large panes of stained glass admitted
+a mysterious light; the altar shone with gold and silver; and at the
+entrance of this little church, in an obscure corner beneath the organ
+loft, was a font for holy water in sculptured marble. It was close to
+this font, in a dark nook where he could hardly be seen, that Faringhea
+knelt down, early on the 1st of June, as soon indeed as the chapel doors
+were opened. The half-caste was exceedingly sad. From time to time he
+started and sighed, as if agitated by a violent internal struggle.
+This wild, untamable being, possessed with the monomania of evil and
+destruction, felt, as may be imagined, a profound admiration for Rodin,
+who exercised over him a kind of magnetic fascination. The half-caste,
+almost a wild beast in human form, saw something supernatural in the
+infernal genius of Rodin. And the latter, too sagacious not to have
+discovered the savage devotion of this wretch, had made, as we have
+seen, good use of him, is bringing about the tragical termination of the
+loves of Adrienne and Djalma. But what excited to an incredible degree
+the admiration of Faringhea, was what he knew of the Society of
+Jesus. This immense, occult power, which undermined the world by its
+subterraneous ramifications, and reached its ends by diabolical means,
+had inspired the half-caste with a wild enthusiasm. And if anything in
+the world surpassed his fanatical admiration for Rodin, it was his blind
+devotion to the Company of Ignatius de Loyola, which, as he said, could
+make corpses that walk about. Hid in the shadow of the organ-loft,
+Faringhea was reflecting deeply on these things, when footsteps were
+heard, and Rodin entered the chapel, accompanied by his socius, the
+little one-eyed father.
+
+Whether from absence of mind, or that the shadow of the orange-loft
+completely concealed the half-caste, Rodin dipped his fingers into the
+font without perceiving Faringhea, who stood motionless as a statue,
+though a cold sweat streamed from his brow. The prayer of Rodin was,
+as may be supposed, short; he was in haste to get to the Rue
+Saint-Francois. After kneeling down with Father Caboccini for a few
+seconds, he rose, bowed respectfully to the altar, and returned towards
+the door, followed by his socius. At the moment Rodin approached the
+font he perceived the tall figure of the half-caste standing out from
+the midst of the dark shadow; advancing a little, Faringhea bowed
+respectfully to Rodin, who said to him, in a low voice; "Come to me at
+two o'clock."
+
+So saying, Rodin stretched forth his hand to dip it into the holy water;
+but Faringhea spared him the trouble, by offering him the sprinkling
+brush, which generally stood in the font.
+
+Pressing between his dirty fingers the damp hairs of the brush,
+which the half-caste held by the handle, Rodin wetted his thumb and
+forefinger, and, according to custom, traced the sign of the cross upon
+his forehead. Then, opening the door of the chapel, he went out, after
+again repeating to Faringhea: "Come to me at two o'clock."
+
+Thinking he would also make use of the sprinkling-brush, which,
+Faringhea, still motionless, held with a trembling hand, Father
+Caboccini stretched out his fingers to reach it, when the half-breed,
+as if determined to confine his favors to Rodin, hastily withdrew the
+instrument. Deceived in his expectation, Father Caboccini lost no time
+in following Rodin, whom he was not to leave that day for a single
+moment, and, getting into a hackney-coach with him, set out for the Rue
+Saint-Francois. It is impossible to describe the look which the half
+breed fixed upon Rodin as the latter quitted the chapel. Left alone in
+the sacred edifice, Faringhea sank upon the stones, half kneeling, half
+crouching, with his face buried in his hands. As the coach drew near
+the quarter of the Marais, in which was situated the house of Marius
+de Rennepont, a feverish agitation, and the devouring impatience of
+triumph, were visible on the countenance of Rodin. Two or three times he
+opened his pocketbook, and read and arranged the different certificates
+of death of the various members of the Rennepont family; and from time
+to time he thrust his head anxiously from the coach-window, as if he had
+wished to hasten the slow progress of the vehicle.
+
+The good little father, his socius, did not take his eye off Rodin, and
+his look had a strange and crafty expression. At last the coach entered
+the Rue Saint-Francois, and stopped before the iron-studded door of the
+old house, which had been closed for a century and a half. Rodin sprang
+from the coach with the agility of a young man, and knocked violently
+at the door, whilst Father Caboccini, less light of foot, descended more
+prudently to the ground. No answer was returned to the loud knocking
+of Rodin. Trembling with anxiety, he knocked again. This time, as he
+listened attentively, he heard slow steps approaching. They stopped at
+some distance from the door, which was not yet opened.
+
+"It is keeping one upon red-hot coals," said Rodin, for he felt as
+if there was a burning fire in his chest. He again shook the door
+violently, and began to gnaw his nails according to his custom.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and Samuel, the Jew guardian, appeared beneath
+the porch. The countenance of the old man expressed bitter grief. Upon
+his venerable cheeks were the traces of recent tears, which he strove to
+dry with his trembling hands, as he opened the door to Rodin.
+
+"Who are you, gentlemen?" said Samuel.
+
+"I am the bearer of a power of attorney from the Abbe Gabriel, the only
+living representative of the Rennepont family," answered Rodin,
+hastily. "This gentleman is my secretary," added he, pointing to Father
+Caboccini, who bowed.
+
+After looking attentively at Rodin, Samuel resumed: "I recognize you,
+sir. Please to follow me." And the old guardian advanced towards the
+house in the garden, making a sign to the two reverend fathers to
+follow.
+
+"That confounded old man kept me so long at the door," said Rodin to his
+socius, "that I think I have caught a cold in consequence. My lips and
+throat are dried up, like parchment baked at the fire."
+
+"Will you not take something, my dear, good father? Suppose you were to
+ask this man for a glass of water," cried the little one-eyed priest,
+with tender solicitude.
+
+"No, no," answered Rodin; "it is nothing. I am devoured by impatience.
+That is all."
+
+Pale and desolate, Bathsheba, the wife of Samuel, was standing at the
+door of the apartment she occupied with her husband, in the building
+next the street. As the Jew passed before her, he said, in Hebrew: "The
+curtains of the Hall of Mourning?"
+
+"Are closed."
+
+"And the iron casket?"
+
+"Is prepared," answered Bathsheba, also in Hebrew.
+
+After pronouncing these words, completely unintelligible to Rodin
+and Caboccini, Samuel and Bathsheba exchanged a bitter smile,
+notwithstanding the despair impressed on their countenances.
+
+Ascending the steps, followed by the two reverend fathers, Samuel
+entered the vestibule of the house, in which a lamp was burning. Endowed
+with an excellent local memory, Rodin was about to take the direction
+of the Red Saloon, in which had been held the first convocation of the
+heirs, when Samuel stopped him, and said: "It is not that way."
+
+Then, taking the lamp, he advanced towards a dark staircase, for the
+windows of the house had not been un-bricked.
+
+"But," said Rodin, "the last time, we met in a saloon on the ground
+floor."
+
+"To-day, we must go higher," answered Samuel, as he began slowly to
+ascend the stairs.
+
+"Where to? higher!" said Rodin, following him.
+
+"To the Hall of Mourning," replied the Jew, and he continued to ascend.
+
+"What is the Hall of Mourning?" resumed Rodin, in some surprise.
+
+"A place of tears and death," answered the Israelite; and he kept on
+ascending through the darkness, for the little lamp threw but a faint
+light around.
+
+"But," said Rodin, more and more astonished, and stopping short on the
+stairs, "why go to this place?"
+
+"The money is there," answered Samuel, and he went on,
+
+"Oh? if the money is there, that alters the case," replied Rodin; and he
+made haste to regain the few steps he had lost by stopping.
+
+Samuel continued to ascend, and, at a turn of the staircase, the two
+Jesuits could see by the pale light of the little lamp, the profile of
+the old Israelite, in the space left between the iron balustrade and the
+wall, as he climbed on with difficulty above them. Rodin was struck with
+the expression of Samuel's countenance. His black eyes, generally
+so calm, sparkled with ardor. His features, usually impressed with a
+mixture of sorrow, intelligence, and goodness, seemed to grow harsh and
+stern, and his thin lips wore a strange smile.
+
+"It is not so very high," whispered Rodin to Caboccini, "and yet my legs
+ache, and I am quite out of breath. There is a strange throbbing too in
+my temples."
+
+In fact, Rodin breathed hard, and with difficulty. To this confidential
+communication, good little Father Caboccini, in general so full of
+tender care for his colleague, made no answer. He seemed to be in deep
+thought.
+
+"Will we soon be there?" said Rodin, impatiently, to Samuel.
+
+"We are there," replied the Israelite.
+
+"And a good thing too," said Rodin.
+
+"Very good," said the Jew.
+
+Stopping in the midst of a corridor, he pointed with the hand in which
+he held the lamp to a large door from which streamed a faint light. In
+spite of his growing surprise. Rodin entered resolutely, followed
+by Father Caboccini and Samuel. The apartment in which these three
+personage, now found themselves was very large. The daylight only
+entered from a belvedere in the roof, the four sides of which had been
+covered with leaden plates, each of which was pierced with seven holes,
+forming a cross, thus:
+
+             *
+           * * *
+             *
+             *
+             *
+
+Now, the light being only admitted through these holes, the obscurity
+would have been complete, had it not been for a lamp, which burned on a
+large massive slab of black marble, fixed against one of the walls.
+One would have taken it for a funeral chamber, for it was all hung with
+black curtains, fringed with white. There was no furniture, save the
+slab of black marble we have already mentioned. On this slab was an iron
+casket, of the manufacture of the seventeenth century, admirably adorned
+with open work, like lace made of metal.
+
+Addressing Rodin, who was wiping his forehead with his dirty
+handkerchief, and looking round him with surprise, but not fear, Samuel
+said to him: "The will of the testator, however strange it may appear,
+is sacred with me, and must be accomplished in all things."
+
+"Certainly," said Rodin; "but what are we to do here?"
+
+"You will know presently, sir. You are the representative of the only
+remaining heir of the Rennepont family, the Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont?"
+
+"Yes, sir, and here are my papers," replied Rodin.
+
+"To save time," resumed Samuel, "I will, previous to the arrival of the
+magistrate, go through the inventory of the securities contained in
+this casket, which I withdrew yesterday from the custody of the Bank of
+France."
+
+"The securities are there?" cried Rodin, advancing eagerly towards the
+casket.
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Samuel, "as by the list. Your secretary will call
+them over, and I will produce each in turn. They can then be replaced
+in the casket, which I will deliver up to you in presence of the
+magistrate."
+
+"All this seems perfectly correct," said Rodin.
+
+Samuel delivered the list to Father Caboccini, and approaching the
+casket, touched a spring, which was not seen by Rodin. The heavy lid
+flew open, and, while Father Caboccini read the names of the different
+securities, Samuel showed them to Rodin, who returned them to the old
+Jew, after a careful examination. This verification did not last long,
+for this immense fortune was all comprised, as we already know, in eight
+government securities, five hundred thousand francs in bank-note,
+thirty five thousand francs in gold, and two hundred and fifty francs in
+silver--making in all an amount of two hundred and twelve millions, one
+hundred and seventy-five thousand francs. When Rodin had counted the
+last of the five hundred bank-notes, of a thousand francs each, he
+said, as he returned them to Samuel: "It is quite right. Two hundred and
+twelve millions, one hundred and seventy-five thousand francs!"
+
+He was no doubt almost choked with joy, for he breathed with difficulty,
+his eyes closed, and he was obliged to lean upon Father Caboccini's arm,
+as he said to him in an altered voice: "It is singular. I thought myself
+proof against all such emotions; but what I feel is extraordinary."
+
+The natural paleness of the Jesuit increased so much, and he seemed
+so much agitated with convulsive movements, that Father Caboccini
+exclaimed: "My dear father, collect yourself; do not let success
+overcome you thus."
+
+Whilst the little one-eyed man was, attending to Rodin, Samuel carefully
+replaced the securities in the iron casket. Thanks to his unconquerable
+energy, and to the joy he felt at seeing himself so near the term of his
+labors, Rodin mastered this attack of weakness, and drawing himself up,
+calm and proud, he said to Caboccini: "It is nothing. I did not survive
+the cholera to die of joy on the first of June."
+
+And, though still frightfully pale, the countenance of the Jesuit shone
+with audacious confidence. But now, when Rodin appeared to be quite
+recovered, Father Caboccini seemed suddenly transformed. Though short,
+fat, and one-eyed, his features assumed on the instant so firm, harsh,
+and commanding an expression, that Rodin recoiled a step as he looked at
+him. Then Father Caboccini, drawing a paper from his pocket, kissed it
+respectfully, glanced sternly at Rodin, and read as follows, in a severe
+and menacing tone:
+
+"'On receipt of the present rescript, the Reverend Father Rodin will
+deliver up all his powers to the Reverend Father Caboccini, who is
+alone commissioned, with the Reverend Father d'Aigrigny, to receive the
+inheritance of the Rennepont family, if, in His eternal justice,
+the Lord should restore this property, of which our Company has been
+wronged.
+
+"'Moreover, on receipt of the present rescript, the Reverend Father
+Rodin, in charge of a person to be named by the Reverend Father
+Caboccini, shall be conveyed to our house in the Town of Laval, to be
+kept in strict seclusion in his cell until further orders.'"
+
+Then Father Caboccini handed the rescript to Rodin, that the latter
+might read the signature of the General of the Company. Samuel, greatly
+interested by this scene, drew a few steps nearer, leaving the casket
+half-open. Suddenly, Rodin burst into a loud laugh--a laugh of joy,
+contempt and triumph, impossible to describe. Father Caboccini looked
+at him with angry astonishment; when Rodin, growing still more imperious
+and haughty, and with an air of more sovereign disdain than ever, pushed
+aside the paper with the back of his dirty hand and said: "What is the
+date of that scribble?"
+
+"The eleventh of May," answered Father Caboccini in amazement.
+
+"Here is a brief, that I received last night from Rome, under date of
+the eighteenth. It informs me that I am appointed GENERAL OF THE ORDER.
+Read!"
+
+Father Caboccini took the paper, read it, and remained thunderstruck.
+Then, returning it humbly to Rodin, he respectfully bent his knee before
+him. Thus seemed the ambitious views of Rodin accomplished. In spite of
+the hatred and suspicion of that party, of which Cardinal Malipieri was
+the representative and the chief, Rodin, by address and craft, audacity
+and persuasion, and in consequence of the high esteem in which his
+partisans at Rome held his rare capacity, had succeeded in deposing his
+General, and in procuring his own elevation to that eminent post. Now,
+according to his calculation, aided by the millions he was about to
+possess, it would be but one step from that post to the pontifical
+throne. A mute witness of this scene, Samuel smiled also with an air of
+triumph, as he closed the casket by means of the spring known only to
+himself. That metallic sound recalled Rodin from the heights of his
+mad ambition to the realities of life, and he said to Samuel in a sharp
+voice: "You have heard? These millions must be delivered to me alone."
+
+He extended his hands eagerly and impatiently towards the casket, as
+if he would have taken possession of it, before the arrival of the
+magistrate. Then Samuel in his turn seemed transfigured, and, folding
+his arms upon his breast, and drawing up his aged form to its full
+height, he assumed a threatening and imposing air. His eyes flashed with
+indignation, and he said in a solemn tone: "This fortune--at first the
+humble remains of the inheritance of the most noble of men, whom the
+plots of the sons of Loyola drove to suicide--this fortune, which has
+since become royal in amount, thanks to the sacred probity of three
+generations of faithful servants--this fortune shall never be the reward
+of falsehood, hypocrisy and murder. No! the eternal justice of heaven
+will not allow it."
+
+"On murder? what do you mean, sir?" asked Rodin, boldly.
+
+Samuel made no answer. He stamped his foot, and extended his arm slowly
+towards the extremity of the apartment. Then Rodin and Father Caboccini
+beheld an awful spectacle. The draperies on the wall were drawn aside,
+as if by an invisible hand. Round a funeral vault, faintly illumined-by
+the bluish light of a silver lamp, six dead bodies were ranged
+upon black biers, dressed in long black robes. They were: Jacques
+Rennepont--Francois Hardy--Rose and Blanche Simon--Adrienne and Djalma.
+They appeared to be asleep. Their eyelids were closed, their hands
+crossed over their breasts. Father Caboccini, trembling in every limb,
+made the sign of the cross, and retreating to the opposite wall, buried
+his face in his hands. Rodin on the contrary, with agitated countenance,
+staring eyes, and hair standing on end, yielding to an invincible
+attraction, advanced towards those inanimate forms. One would have said
+that these last of the Renneponts had only just expired. They seemed to
+be in the first hour of the eternal sleep.(44)
+
+"Behold those whom thou host slain!" cried Samuel, in a voice broken
+with sobs. "Yea! your detestable plots caused their death--and, as they
+fell one by one, it was my pious care to obtain possession of their
+poor remains, that they may all repose in the same sepulchre.
+Oh!--cursed--cursed--cursed--be thou who has killed them! But their
+spoils shall escape thy murderous hands."
+
+Rodin, still drawn forward in spite of himself, had approached the
+funeral couch of Djalma. Surmounting his first alarm, the Jesuit, to
+assure himself that he was not the sport of frightful dream, ventured
+to touch the hands of the Asiatic--and found that they were damp and
+pliant, though cold as ice.
+
+The Jesuit drew back in horror. For some seconds, he trembled
+convulsively. But, his first amazement over, reflection returned, and,
+with reflection came that invincible energy, that infernal obstinacy of
+character, that gave him so much power. Steadying himself on his legs,
+drawing his hand across his brow, raising his head, moistening his lips
+two or three times before he spoke--for his throat and mouth grew
+ever drier and hotter, without his being able to explain the cause--he
+succeeded in giving to his features an imperious and ironical
+expression, and, turning towards Samuel, who wept in silence, he said to
+him, in a hoarse, guttural voice: "I need not show you the certificates
+of their death. There they are in person." And he pointed with his bony
+hand to the six dead bodies.
+
+At these words of his General, Father Caboccini again made the sign of
+the cross, as if he had seen a fiend.
+
+"Oh, my God!" cried Samuel; "Thou hast quite abandoned this man. With
+what a calm look he contemplates his victims!"
+
+"Come, sir!" said Rodin, with a horrid smile; "this is a natural waxwork
+exhibition, that is all. My calmness proves my innocence--and we had
+best come at once to business. I have an appointment at two o'clock. So
+let us carry down this casket."
+
+He advanced towards the marble slab. Seized with indignation and horror,
+Samuel threw himself before him, and, pressing with all his might on a
+knob in the lid of the casket--a knob which yielded to the pressure--he
+exclaimed: "Since your infernal soul is incapable of remorse, it may
+perhaps be shaken by disappointed avarice."
+
+"What does he say?" cried Rodin. "What is he doing?"
+
+"Look!" said Samuel, in his turn assuming an air of savage triumph. "I
+told you, that the spoils of your victims should escape your murderous
+hands."
+
+Hardly had he uttered these words, before through the open-work of the
+iron casket rose a light cloud of smoke, and an odor as of burnt paper
+spread itself through the room. Rodin understood it instantly. "Fire!"
+he exclaimed, as he rushed forward to seize the casket. It had been made
+fast to the heavy marble slab.
+
+"Yes, fire," said Samuel. "In a few minutes, of that immense treasure
+there will remain nothing but ashes. And better so, than that it should
+belong to you or yours. This treasure is not mine, and it only remains
+for me to destroy it--since Gabriel de Rennepont will be faithful to the
+oath he has taken."
+
+"Help! water! water!" cried Rodin, as he covered the casket with his
+body, trying in vain to extinguish the flames, which, fanned by the
+current of air, now issued from the thousand apertures in the lid; but
+soon the intensity of the fire diminished, a few threads of bluish smoke
+alone mounted upwards--and then, all was extinct.
+
+The work was done! Breathless and faint, Rodin leaned against the marble
+slab. For the first time in his life, he wept; large tears of rage
+rolled down his cadaverous cheeks. But suddenly, dreadful pains, at
+first dull, but gradually augmenting in intensity, seized on him with so
+much fury, though he employed all his energy to struggle against them,
+that he fell on his knees, and, pressing his two hands to his chest,
+murmured with an attempt to smile: "It is nothing. Do not be alarmed. A
+few spasms--that is all. The treasure is destroyed--but I remain General
+of the Order. Oh! I suffer. What a furnace!" he added, writhing in
+agony. "Since I entered this cursed house, I know not what ails me.
+If--I had not lived on roots--water--bread--which I go myself to buy--I
+should think--I was poisoned--for I triumph--and Cardinal Malipieri has
+long arms. Yes--I still triumph--for I will not die--this time no more
+than the other--I will not die!"
+
+Then, as he stretched out his arms convulsively, he continued: "It is
+fire that devours my entrails. No doubt, they have tried to poison me.
+But when? but how?"
+
+After another pause, Rodin again cried out, in a stifled voice: "Help!
+help me, you that stand looking on--like, spectres!--Help me, I say!"
+
+Horror-struck at this dreadful agony, Samuel and Father Caboccini were
+unable to stir.
+
+"Help!" repeated Rodin, in a tone of strangulation, "This poison is
+horrible.--But how--" Then, with a terrific cry of rage, as if a sudden
+idea had struck him, he exclaimed: "Ha! Faringhea--this morning--the
+holy water--he knows such subtle poisons. Yes--it is he--he had an
+interview with Malipieri. The demon!--Oh! it was well played. The
+Borgias are still the same. Oh! it is all over. I die. They will regret
+me, the fools!--Oh! hell! hell! The Church knows not its loss--but I
+burn--help!"
+
+They came to his assistance. Quick steps were heard upon the stairs, and
+Dr. Baleinier, followed by the Princess de Saint-Dizier, appeared at the
+entrance of the Hall of Mourning. The princess had learned vaguely that
+morning the death of Father d'Aigrigny, and had come to question Rodin
+upon the subject. When this woman, entering the room, suddenly saw the
+frightful spectacle that offered itself to her view--when she saw
+Rodin writhing in horrible agony, and, further on, by the light of the
+sepulchral lamp, those six corpses--and, amongst them, her own niece,
+and the two orphans whom she had sent to meet their death--she stood
+petrified with horror, and her reason was unable to withstand the shock.
+She looked slowly round her, and then raised her arms on high, and burst
+into a wild fit of laughter. She had gone mad. Whilst Dr. Baleinier
+supported the head of Rodin, who expired in his arms, Faringhea appeared
+at the door; remaining in the shade, he cast a ferocious glance at
+the corpse of the Jesuit. "He would have made himself the chief of the
+Company of Jesus, to destroy it," said he; "with me, the Company of
+Jesus stands in the place of Bowanee. I have obeyed the cardinal!"
+
+(44) Should this appear incredible, we would remind the reader of
+the marvellous discoveries in the art of embalming--particularly Dr.
+Gannal's.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. FOUR YEARS AFTER.
+
+Four years had elapsed, since the events we have just related,
+when Gabriel de Rennepont wrote the following letter to Abbe Joseph
+Charpentier, curate of the Parish of Saint-Aubin, a hamlet of Sologne:
+
+"Springwater Farm, "June 2d, 1836.
+
+"Intending to write to you yesterday, my bear Joseph, I seated myself
+at the little old black table, that you will remember well. My window
+looks, you know, upon the farmyard, and I can see all that takes place
+there. These are grave preliminaries, my friend, but I am coming to the
+point. I had just taken my seat at the table, when, looking from the
+window, this is what I saw. You, my dear Joseph, who can draw so well,
+should have been there to have sketched the charming scene. The sun was
+sinking, the sky serene, the air warm and balmy with the breath of the
+hawthorn, which, flowering by the side of a little rivulet, forms the
+edge which borders the yard. Under the large pear-tree, close to the
+wall of the barn, sat upon the stone bench my adopted father, Dagobert,
+that brave and honest soldier whom you love so much. He appeared
+thoughtful, his white head was bowed on his bosom; with absent mind,
+he patted old Spoil-sport, whose intelligent face was resting on his
+master's knees. By his side was his wife, my dear adopted mother,
+occupied with her sewing; and near them, on a stool, sat Angela,
+the wife of Agricola, nursing her last-born child, while the gentle
+Magdalen, with the eldest boy in her lap, was occupied in teaching him
+the letters of the alphabet. Agricola had just returned from the fields,
+and was beginning to unyoke his cattle, when, struck, like me, no doubt,
+with this picture, he stood gazing on it for a moment, with his hand
+still leaning on the yoke, beneath which bent submissive the broad
+foreheads of his two large black oxen. I cannot express to you, my
+friend, the enchanting repose of this picture, lighted by the last rays
+of the sun, here and there broken by the thick foliage. What various
+and touching types! The venerable face of the soldier--the good, loving
+countenance of my adopted mother--the fresh beauty of Angela, smiling
+on her little child--the soft melancholy of the hunchback, now and
+then pressing her lips to the fair, laughing cheek of Agricola's eldest
+son--and then Agricola himself, in his manly beauty, which seems to
+reflect so well the valor and honesty of his heart! Oh, my Friend!
+in contemplating this assemblage of good, devoted, noble, and loving
+beings, so dear to each other, living retired in a little farm of our
+poor Sologne, my heart rose towards heaven with a feeling of ineffable
+gratitude. This peace of the family circle--this clear evening, with the
+perfume of the woods and wild flowers wafted on the breeze--this deep
+silence, only broken by the murmur of the neighboring rill--all affected
+me with one of these passing fits of vague and sweet emotion, which
+one feels but cannot express. You well know it, my friend, who, in your
+solitary walks, in the midst of your immense plains of flowering heath,
+surrounded by forests of fir trees, often feel your eyes grow moist,
+without being able to explain the cause of that sweet melancholy, which
+I, too, have often felt, during those glorious nights passed in the
+profound solitudes of America.
+
+"But, alas! a painful incident disturbed the serenity of the picture.
+Suddenly I heard Dagobert's wife say to him: 'My dear--you are weeping!'
+
+"At these words, Agricola, Angela, and Magdalen gathered round the
+soldier. Anxiety was visible upon every face. Then, as he raised his
+head abruptly, one could see two large tears trickle down his cheek to
+his white moustache. 'It is nothing, my children,' said he, in a voice
+of emotion 'it is nothing. Only, to-day is the first of June--and this
+day four years--' He could not complete the sentence; and, as he raised
+his hands to his eyes, to brush away the tears, we saw that he held
+between his fingers a little bronze chain, with a medal suspended to it.
+That is his dearest relic. Four years ago, almost dying with despair at
+the loss of the two angels, of whom I have so often spoken to you, my
+friend, he took from the neck of Marshal Simon, brought home dead from a
+fatal duel, this chain and medal which his children had so long worn.
+I went down instantly, as you may suppose, to endeavor to soothe the
+painful remembrances of this excellent man; gradually, he grew calmer,
+and the evening was passed in a pious and quiet sadness.
+
+"You cannot imagine, my friend, when I returned to my chamber, what
+cruel thoughts came to my mind, as I recalled those past events, from
+which I generally turn away with fear and horror. Then I saw once more
+the victims of those terrible and mysterious plots, the awful depths of
+which have never been penetrated thanks to the death of Father d'A.
+and Father R., and the incurable madness of Madame de St.-D., the three
+authors or accomplices of the dreadful deeds. The calamities occasioned
+by them are irreparable; for those who were thus sacrificed to a
+criminal ambition, would have been the pride of humanity by the good
+they would have done. Ah, my friend! if you had known those noble
+hearts; if you had known the projects of splendid charity, formed by
+that young lady, whose heart was so generous, whose mind so elevated,
+whose soul so great! On the eve of her death, as a kind of prelude to
+her magnificent designs, after a conversation, the subject of which I
+must keep secret, even from you, she put into my hands a considerable
+sum, saying, with her usual grace and goodness: 'I have been threatened
+with ruin, and it might perhaps come. What I now confide to you will at
+least be safe--safe--for those who suffer. Give much--give freely--make
+as many happy hearts as you can. My happiness shall have a royal
+inauguration!!' I do not know whether I ever told you, my friend,
+that, after those fatal events, seeing Dagobert and his wife reduced to
+misery, poor 'Mother Bunch' hardly able to earn a wretched subsistence,
+Agricola soon to become a father, and myself deprived of my curacy, and
+suspended by my bishop, for having given religious consolations to
+a Protestant, and offered up prayers at the tomb of an unfortunate
+suicide--I considered myself justified in employing a small portion of
+the sum intrusted to me by Mdlle. de Cardoville in the purchase of this
+farm in Dagobert's name.
+
+"Yes, my friend, such is the origin of my fortune. The farmer to
+whom these few acres formerly belonged, gave us the rudiments of our
+agricultural education, and common sense, and the study of a few good
+practical books, completed it. From an excellent workman, Agricola has
+become an equally excellent husbandman; I have tried to imitate him, and
+have put my hand also to the plough there is no derogation in it, for
+the labor which provides food for man is thrice hallowed, and it is
+truly to serve and glorify God, to cultivate and enrich the earth He has
+created. Dagobert, when his first grief was a little appeased, seemed to
+gather new vigor from this healthy life of the fields; and, during his
+exile in Siberia, he had already learned to till the ground. Finally, my
+dear adopted mother and sister, and Agricola's good wife, have divided
+between them the household cares; and God has blessed this little colony
+of people, who, alas! have been sorely tried by misfortune, and who now
+only ask of toil and solitude, a quite, laborious, innocent life, and
+oblivion of great sorrows. Sometimes, in our winter evenings, you have
+been able to appreciate the delicate and charming mind of the gentle
+'Mother Bunch,' the rare poetical imagination of Agricola, the
+tenderness of his mother, the good sense of his father, the exquisite
+natural grace of Angela. Tell me, my friend, was it possible to unite
+more elements of domestic happiness? What long evenings have we passed
+round the fire of crackling wood, reading, or commenting on a few
+immortal works, which always warm the heart, and enlarge the soul!
+What sweet talk have we had, prolonged far into the night! And then
+Agricola's pastorals, and the timid literary confidences of Magdalen!
+And the fresh, clear voice of Angela, joined to the deep manly tones of
+Agricola, in songs of simple melody! And the old stories of Dagobert,
+so energetic and picturesque in their warlike spirit! And the adorable
+gayety of the children, in their sports with good old Spoil-sport,
+who rather lends himself to their play than takes part in it--for the
+faithful, intelligent creature seems always to be looking for somebody,
+as Dagobert says--and he is right. Yes, the dog also regrets those two
+angels, of whom he was the devoted guardian!
+
+"Do not think, my friend, that our happiness makes us forgetful. No, no;
+not a day passes without our repeating, with pious and tender respect,
+those names so dear to our heart. And these painful memories, hovering
+forever about us, give to our calm and happy existence that shade of
+mild seriousness which struck you so much. No doubt, my friend, this
+kind of life, bounded by the family circle, and not extending beyond,
+for the happiness or improvement of our brethren, may be set down as
+selfish; but, alas! we have not the means--and though the poor man
+always finds a place at our frugal table, and shelter beneath our roof,
+we must renounce all great projects of fraternal action. The little
+revenue of our farm just suffices to supply our wants. Alas! when I
+think over it, notwithstanding a momentary regret, I cannot blame my
+resolution to keep faithfully my sacred oath, and to renounce that great
+inheritance, which, alas! had become immense by the death of my kindred.
+Yes, I believe I performed a duty, when I begged the guardian of that
+treasure to reduce it to ashes, rather than let it fall into the hands
+of people, who would have made an execrable use of it, or to perjure
+myself by disputing a donation which I had granted freely, voluntarily,
+sincerely. And yet, when I picture to myself the realization of the
+magnificent views of--my ancestor--an admirable Utopia, only possible
+with immense resources--and which Mdlle. de Cardoville hoped to carry
+into execution, with the aid of M. Francois Hardy, of Prince Djalma,
+of Marshal Simon and his daughters, and of myself--when I think of the
+dazzling focus of living forces, which such an association would have
+been, and of the immense influence it might have had on the happiness of
+the whole human race--my indignation and horror, as an honest man and
+a Christian, are excited against that abominable Company, whose black
+plots nipped in their bud all those great hopes, which promised so much
+for futurity. What remains now of all these splendid projects? Seven
+tombs. For my grave also is dug in that mausoleum, which Samuel has
+erected on the site of the house in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Francois, and of
+which he remains the keeper--faithful to the end!
+
+"I had written thus far, my friend, when I received your letter. So,
+after having forbidden you to see me, your bishop now orders that you
+shall cease to correspond with me. Your touching, painful regrets
+have deeply moved me, my friend. Often have we talked together of
+ecclesiastical discipline, and of the absolute power of the bishops
+over, us, the poor working clergy, left to their mercy without remedy.
+It is painful, but it is the law of the church, my friend, and you have
+sworn to observe it. Submit as I have submitted. Every engagement is
+binding upon the man of honor! My poor, dear Joseph! would that you had
+the compensations which remained to me, after the rupture of ties that I
+so much value. But I know too well what you must feel--I cannot go on
+I find it impossible to continue this letter, I might be bitter against
+those whose orders we are bound to respect. Since it must be so, this
+letter shall be my last. Farewell, my friend! farewell forever. My heart
+is almost broken.
+
+"GABRIEL DE RENNEPONT."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE REDEMPTION.
+
+Day was about to dawn. A rosy light, almost imperceptible, began to
+glimmer in the east; but the stars still shone, sparkling with radiance,
+upon the azure of the zenith. The birds awoke beneath the fresh foliage
+of the great woods; and, with isolated warblings, sang the prelude of
+their morning-concert. A light mist rose from the high grass, bathed in
+nocturnal dew, while the calm and limpid waters of a vast lake reflected
+the whitening dawn in their deep, blue mirror. Everything promised one
+of those warm and joyous days, that belong to the opening of summer.
+
+Half-way up the slope of a hill, facing the east, a tuft of old, moss
+grown willows, whose rugged bark disappeared beneath the climbing
+branches of wild honeysuckle and harebells, formed a natural harbor;
+and on their gnarled and enormous roots, covered with thick moss, were
+seated a man and a woman, whose white hair, deep wrinkles, and bending
+figures, announced extreme old age. And yet this woman had only lately
+been young and beautiful, with long black hair overshadowing her pale
+forehead. And yet this man had, a short time ago, been still in the
+vigor of his age. From the spot where this man and woman were reposing,
+could be seen the valley, the lake, the woods, and, soaring above the
+woods, the blue summit of a high mountain, from behind which the sun was
+about to rise. This picture, half veiled by the pale transparency of the
+morning twilight, was pleasing, melancholy, and solemn.
+
+"Oh, my sister!" said the old man to the woman, who was reposing with
+him beneath the rustic arbor formed by the tuft of willow-trees; "oh,
+my sister! how many times during the centuries in which the hand of the
+Lord carried us onward, and, separated from each other, we traversed the
+world from pole to pole--how many times we have witnessed this awakening
+of nature with a sentiment of incurable grief!--Alas! it was but another
+day of wandering--another useless day added to our life, since it
+brought death no nearer!"
+
+"But now what happiness, oh, my brother! since the Lord has had mercy on
+us, and, with us, as with all other creatures, every returning day is a
+step nearer to the grave. Glory to Him! yes, glory!"
+
+"Glory to Him, my sister! for since yesterday, when we again met, I feel
+that indescribable languor which announces the approach of death."
+
+"Like you, my brother, I feel my strength, already shaken, passing away
+in a sweet exhaustion. Doubtless, the term of our life approaches. The
+wrath of the Lord is satisfied."
+
+"Alas, my sister! doubtless also, the last of my doomed race, will, at
+the same time, complete our redemption by his death; for the will of
+heaven is manifest, that I can only be pardoned, when the last of
+my family shall have disappeared from the face of the earth. To him,
+holiest amongst the holiest--was reserved the favor of accomplishing
+this end he who has done so much for the salvation of his brethren!"
+
+"Oh, yes, my brother! he who has suffered so much, and without
+complaining, drunk to the dregs the bitter cup of woe--he, the minister
+of the Lord, who has been his Master's image upon earth--he was fitted
+for the last instrument of this redemption!"
+
+"Yes, for I feel, my sister, that, at this hour, the last of my race,
+touching victim of slow persecution, is on the point of resigning his
+angelic soul to God. Thus, even to the end, have I been fatal to
+my doomed family. Lord, if Thy mercy is great, Thy anger is great
+likewise!"
+
+"Courage and hope, my brother! Think how after the expiration cometh
+pardon, and pardon is followed by a blessing. The Lord punished, in
+you and your posterity, the artisan rendered wicked by misfortune and
+injustice. He said to you: 'Go on! without truce or rest--and your labor
+shall be vain--and every evening, throwing yourself on the hard ground,
+you shall be no nearer to the end of your eternal course!'--And so, for
+centuries, men without pity have said to the artisan: 'Work! work! work!
+without truce or rest--and your labor shall be fruitful for all others,
+but fruitless for yourself--and every evening, throwing yourself on the
+hard ground, you shall be no nearer to happiness and repose; and your
+wages shall only suffice to keep you alive in pain, privation, and
+poverty!'"
+
+"Alas! alas! will it be always thus?"
+
+"No, no, my brother! and instead of weeping over your lost race, rejoice
+for them--since their death was needed for your redemption, and in
+redeeming you, heaven will redeem the artisan, cursed and feared by
+those--who have laid on him the iron yoke. Yes, my brother! the time
+draweth nigh--heaven's mercy will not stop with us alone. Yes, I tell
+you; in us will be rescued both the WOMAN and the SLAVE of these
+modern ages. The trial has been hard, brother; it has lasted throughout
+eighteen centuries; but it will last no longer. Look, my brother!
+see that rosy light, there in the east, gradually spreading over the
+firmament! Thus will rise the sun of the new emancipation--peaceful,
+holy, great, salutary, fruitful, filling the world with light and
+vivifying heat, like the day-star that will soon appear in heaven!"
+
+"Yes, yes, my sister! I feel it. Your words are prophetic. We
+shall close our heavy eyes just as we see the aurora of the day of
+deliverance--a fair, a splendid day, like that which is about to dawn.
+Henceforth I will only shed tears of pride and glory for those of my
+race, who have died the martyrs of humanity, sacrificed by humanity's
+eternal enemies--for the true ancestors of the sacrilegious wretches,
+who blaspheme the name of Jesus by giving it to their Company, were the
+false Scribes and Pharisees, whom the Saviour cursed!--Yes! glory to the
+descendants of my family, who have been the last martyrs offered up by
+the accomplices of all slavery and all despotism, the pitiless enemies
+of those who wish to think, and not to suffer in silence--of those that
+would feign enjoy, as children of heaven, the gifts which the Creator
+has bestowed upon all the human family. Yes, the day approaches--the end
+of the reign of our modern Pharisees--the false priests, who lend their
+sacrilegious aid to the merciless selfishness of the strong against the
+weak, by daring to maintain in the face of the exhaustless treasures
+of the creation, that God has made man for tears, and sorrow, and
+suffering--the false priests, who are the agents of all oppression, and
+would bow to the earth, in brutish and hopeless humiliation, the brow of
+every creature. No, no! let man lift his head proudly! God made him to
+be noble and intelligent free and happy."
+
+"Oh, my brother! your words also are prophetic. Yes, yes! the dawn of
+that bright day approaches, even as the dawn of the natural day which,
+by the mercy of God, will be our last on earth."
+
+"The last, my sister; for a strange weakness creeps over me, all matter
+seems dissolving in me, and my soul aspires to mount to heaven."
+
+"Mine eyes are growing dim, brother; I can scarcely see that light in
+the east, which lately appeared so red."
+
+"Sister! it is through a confused vapor that I now see the valley--the
+lake--the woods. My strength fails me."
+
+"Blessed be God, brother! the moment of eternal rest is at hand."
+
+"Yes, it comes, my sister! the sweetness of the everlasting sleep takes
+possession of my senses."
+
+"Oh, happiness! I am dying--"
+
+"These eyes are closing, sister!"
+
+"We are then forgiven!"
+
+"Forgiven!"
+
+"Oh, my brother! may this Divine redemption extend to all those who
+suffer upon the earth!"
+
+"Die in peace, my sister! The great day has dawned--the sun is
+rising--behold!"
+
+"Blessed be God!"
+
+"Blessed be God!"
+
+And at the moment when those two voices ceased forever, the sun rose
+radiant and dazzling, and deluged the valley with its beams.
+
+To M. C--P--.
+
+To you, my friend, I dedicated this book. To inscribe it with your name,
+was to assume an engagement that, in the absence of talent, it should
+be at least conscientious, sincere, and of a salutary influence, however
+limited. My object is attained. Some select hearts, like yours, my
+friend, have put into practice the legitimate association of labor,
+capital, and intelligence, and have already granted to their workmen a
+proportionate share in the profits of their industry. Others have
+laid the foundations of Common Dwelling-houses, and one of the chief
+capitalists of Hamburg has favored me with his views respecting an
+establishment of this kind, on the most gigantic scale.
+
+As for the dispersion of the members of the Company of Jesus, I have
+taken less part in it than other enemies of the detestable doctrines of
+Loyola, whose influence and authority were far greater than mine.
+
+Adieu, my friend. I could have wished this work more worthy of you; but
+you are indulgent, and will at least give me credit for the intentions
+which dictated it.
+
+Believe me, Yours truly,
+
+EUGENE SUE.
+
+Paris, 25th August, 1845. Paris, 25th August, 1845.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Wandering Jew, Complete, by Eugene Sue
+
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