diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:00:13 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:00:13 -0700 |
| commit | 1e52db4c8f201e0524c0443794b98fe6c1e9610a (patch) | |
| tree | 5c8f6a3b2468e967fab685fc4ea9181ab9dc2eca /33802-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '33802-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/33802-h.htm | 14642 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54059 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53819 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60073 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54965 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54335 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 33802-h/images/i006.jpg | bin | 0 -> 58512 bytes |
7 files changed, 14642 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/33802-h/33802-h.htm b/33802-h/33802-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecd51db --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/33802-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14642 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mysteries of Paris, by +Eugene Sue. (In Six Volumes, Volume III.) + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1 {margin-left: 1em; + margin-right: auto; + text-align: left; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 0; +} + + h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +div.frontmatter {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; + margin-top: 0; padding-top: 3em; + clear: both; max-width: 24em; } +div.tns {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + +p.title {margin-left: 5em; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 3em; + font-size: 110%; text-align: left;} +p.volume {text-align: center; padding-top: 3em; padding-bottom: 3em;} +p.edition {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold;} +p.ending {margin: auto; padding-top: 2em; font-size: 90%; font-weight: bold; + text-align: center;} +p.indent {text-indent: 1em;} +p.sigs {margin-top: 0; text-align: right; padding-right: 1.5em;} + +.tr { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 5%; + margin-bottom: 5%; + padding: 1em; + background-color: #f6f2f2; + color: black; + border: dotted black 1px; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td.tcol1 {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em; vertical-align: top;} +td.tcol2 {text-align: left; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -2em; padding-right: 2em; vertical-align: top;} +td.tcol3 {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allcaps {font-size: 90%;} + +.pad8 {padding-left: 8em;} + +.note {font-size: 90%;} + +.artist {font-size: 80%;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i0h {display: block; margin-left: .25em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 3 of 6, by Eugène 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 Mysteries of Paris, Volume 3 of 6 + +Author: Eugène Sue + +Illustrators: G. Mercier + Bicknell + Léon Poiteau + Adrian Marcel + +Release Date: September 22, 2010 [EBook #33802] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS, V.3 *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Christine Aldridge and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(Stanford University, SUL Books in the Public Domain) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt="Took my head between his hands. +Original Etching by Mercier." title="Took my head between his hands." /> +<span class="caption"><i>Took my head between his hands.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Mercier.</span></span> +</div> + + + + +<div class="frontmatter"> +<h1>The Mysteries of Paris.</h1> + +<p class="title"><i>ILLUSTRATED WITH ETCHINGS<br /> +BY MERCIER, BICKNELL, POITEAU,<br /> +AND ADRIAN MARCEL.</i><br /> +<span class="pad8"><span class="smcap"><i>By</i></span> <i>EUGENE SUE</i></span></p> + + +<p class="volume"><i>IN SIX VOLUMES<br /> +VOLUME III.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><i>PRINTED FOR<br /> +FRANCIS A. NICCOLLS & CO.<br /> +BOSTON</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="edition"><i>Edition De Luxe.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>This edition is limited to one thousand copies, +of which this is</i></p> + +<p class="edition">No.______</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="allcaps">CHAPTER</span></td><td class="tcol2"> </td><td class="tcol3"><span class="allcaps">PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">I.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Temple</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">II.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Arrest</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">III.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Jacques Ferrand</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">IV.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Office</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">V.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Clients</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">VI.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Anonymous Letter</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">VII.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Reflections</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">VIII.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Bachelors' Breakfast</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">IX.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">St. Lazare</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">X.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Mont Saint-Jean</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">XI.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">La Louve and La Goualeuse</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_255">255</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">XII.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Protectress</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">XIII.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">The Forced Friendship</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol1">XIV.</td><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Cecily</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td class="tcol2"> </td><td class="tcol3"><span class="allcaps">PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Took my head between his hands</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Drew carefully out a sheet of paper</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#image35">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">Morel fell back on the stool</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#image83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">He will scold you awfully</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#image134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">M. d'Harville had blown his brains out</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#image222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tcol2"><span class="smcap">La Goualeuse in the prison</span></td><td class="tcol3"><a href="#image279">279</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<h5>THE TEMPLE.</h5> + + +<p>To the deep snow which had fallen during the past +night had succeeded a very sharp wind, so that the +ordinarily muddy pavement was hard and dry, as +Rigolette and Rodolph wended onwards to the immense +and singular bazar called the Temple, the young +girl leaning unceremoniously on the arm of her cavalier, +who, on his part, appeared as much at his ease as though +they had been old familiar friends.</p> + +<p>"What a funny old woman Madame Pipelet is!" +observed the grisette to her companion; "and what +very odd things she says!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought her remarks very striking, as well +as appropriate."</p> + +<p>"Which of them, neighbour?"</p> + +<p>"Why, when she said 'Young people would be young +people,' and '<i>Vive l'amour!</i>'"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well! I only mean to say those are precisely my +sentiments."</p> + +<p>"Your sentiments?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should like nothing better than to pass my +youth with you, taking '<i>Vive l'amour!</i>' for my motto."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I dare say, for certainly you are not hard to please."</p> + +<p>"Why, where would be the harm,—are we not near +neighbours? Of course we are, or else I should not be +seen walking out with you in this manner in broad day."</p> + +<p>"Then you allow me to hope—"</p> + +<p>"Hope what?"</p> + +<p>"That you will learn to love me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you, I do love you already!"</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure I do. Why, how can I help it? You +are good and gay; though poor yourself, you have done +all in your power by interesting rich people in the fate +of the Morels; your appearance pleases me; and you +have altogether a nice look, and a sort of air such as +one is glad to find in a person we expect to go about +with a great deal. So there, I think, are abundant +reasons for my loving you."</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly breaking into loud fits of laughter, +Rigolette abruptly exclaimed, "Look there, only look at +that fat woman with the furred shoes! What does she +remind you of? I'll tell you,—of a great sack being +drawn along by two cats without tails!" and again she +laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"I would rather look at you, my pretty neighbour, +than at all the fat old women or tailless cats in Europe. +I am so delighted to find you already love me."</p> + +<p>"I only tell you the truth; if I disliked you, I should +speak just as plainly. I cannot reproach myself with +ever having deceived or flattered any one; but, if a +person pleases me, I tell them so directly."</p> + +<p>Again interrupting the thread of her discourse, the +grisette drew up suddenly before the windows of a shop, +saying, "Oh, do pray only look at that pretty clock and +those two handsome vases! I had already saved up +three francs and a half, and had put it in my money-box, +to buy such a set as that. In five or six years I +might have been able to buy them."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Saved up, do you say? Then, I suppose, you earn—"</p> + +<p>"At least thirty sous a day,—sometimes forty; but I +never reckon upon more than thirty, which is the more +prudent; and I regulate all my expenses accordingly," +said Rigolette, with an air as important as though she +was settling the financial budget.</p> + +<p>"But with thirty sous a day, how do you manage to +live?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you! that is easily reckoned. Shall I tell +you how I manage, neighbour? I fancy you are rather +extravagant in your notions; so, perhaps, it may serve +as a lesson for you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, pray do."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, thirty sous a day make five and forty +francs a month, do they not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, out of that I pay twelve francs for lodging; +that leaves me twenty-three francs for food, etc."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible? Twenty-three francs for one month's +food!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, really, all that! Certainly, for such a person +as myself, it does seem an enormous sum; but then, you +see, I deny myself nothing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you little glutton!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! but then, remember, I include the food for both +my birds in that sum."</p> + +<p>"Certainly it seems less exorbitant, when you come to +reckon, for three than for one; but just tell me how you +manage day by day, that I may profit by your good +example."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, be attentive, and I will go over the +different things I spend in it. First of all, one pound +of bread, that costs four sous; then two sous' worth of +milk make six; four sous' worth of vegetables in winter, +or fruit and salad in summer,—I am very found of salad, +because, like vegetables, it is such a nice clean thing to +prepare, and does not soil the hands; there goes ten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +sous at once; then three sous for butter, or oil and vinegar, +to season the salad with, that makes thirteen sous; +a pail of nice fresh water,—oh, I must have that! it is +my principal extravagance,—that brings it to fifteen sous, +don't you see? Then add two or three sous a week for +chickweed and seed for my birds, who generally have +part of my bread and milk; all this comes to exactly +twenty-three francs a month, neither more nor less."</p> + +<p>"And do you never eat meat?"</p> + +<p>"Meat, indeed! I should think not. Why, it costs +from ten to twelve sous a pound! A likely thing for +me to buy! Besides, there is all the nuisance and smell +of cooking; instead of which, milk, vegetables, or fruit, +are always ready when you wish for them. I tell you +what is a favourite dish of mine, without being troublesome +to prepare, and which I excel in making."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray let me know what it is?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I get some beautiful ripe, rosy apples, and put +them at the top of my little stove; when they are quite +tender, I bruise them with a little milk, and just a taste +of sugar. It is a dish for an emperor. If you behave +well, I will let you taste it some day."</p> + +<p>"Prepared by your hands, it can scarcely fail being +excellent; but let us keep to our reckoning. Let me +see, we counted twenty-three francs for living, etc., and +twelve francs for lodging; that makes thirty-five francs +a month."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, out of the forty-five or fifty francs I earn, +there remains from ten to fifteen francs a month for my +wood and oil during the winter, as well as for my clothes +and washing; that is to say, for soap and other requisites; +because, excepting my sheets, I wash my own things; +that is another of my extravagances,—a good laundress +would pretty well ruin me; while, as I am a very quick +and good ironer, the expense is principally that of my +own time. During the five winter months I burn a load +and a half of wood, while I consume about four or five<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +sous' worth of oil for my lamp daily; that makes it cost +me about eighty francs a year for fire and lights."</p> + +<p>"So that you have, in fact, scarcely one hundred +francs to clothe yourself, and find you in pocket +money."</p> + +<p>"No more; yet out of that sum I managed to save +my three francs and a half."</p> + +<p>"But your gowns, your shoes,—this smart little +cap?"</p> + +<p>"As for caps, I never wear one but when I go out, so +that is not ruinous; and, at home, I go bareheaded. +As for my gowns and boots, have I not got the Temple +to go to for them?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, this convenient, handy Temple! So you +buy there?"</p> + +<p>"All sorts of pretty and excellent dresses. Why, +only imagine, great ladies are accustomed to give +their old, cast-off gowns, etc., to their maids. When I +say old, I mean that, perhaps, they have worn them for +a month or two, just to ride out in the carriage. Well, +and then the ladies' maids sell them to the persons who +have shops at the Temple for almost nothing. Just +look at the nice dark merino dress I have on; well, I +only gave fourteen francs for it, when, I make no doubt, +it cost at least sixty, and had scarcely been put on. I +altered it to fit myself; and I flatter myself it does me +credit."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, it does, and very great credit, too. Yes, I +begin to see now, thanks to the Temple, you really may +contrive to make a hundred francs a year suffice for +your dress."</p> + +<p>"To be sure; why, I can buy in the summer sweet +pretty gowns for five or six francs; boots, like these I +have on, and almost new, for two or three francs a pair; +just look at my boots. Now, would not any one say +they had been made for me?" said Rigolette, suddenly +stopping, and holding up one of her pretty little feet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +really very nicely set off by the well-fitting boot she +wore.</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed, a charming foot; but you must have +some difficulty in getting fitted. However, I suppose, +at the Temple, they keep shoes and boots of all sizes, +from a woman's to a child's."</p> + +<p>"Ah, neighbour, I begin to find out what a terrible +flatterer you are. However, after what I have told you, +you must see now that a young girl, who is careful, and +has only herself to keep, may manage to live respectably +on thirty sous a day; to be sure, the four hundred and +fifty francs I brought out of prison with me helped me +on famously, for when people saw that I had my own +furniture in my apartments, they felt more confidence +in entrusting me with work to take home. I was +some time, though, before I met with employment. +Fortunately for me, I had kept by me as much money +as enabled me to live three months without earning +anything."</p> + +<p>"Shall I own to you that, under so gay and giddy a +manner, I scarcely expected to hear so much sound +sense as that uttered by your pretty mouth, my good +neighbour?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! but let me tell you that, when one is all alone +in the world, and has no wish to be under any obligation, +it is quite necessary, as the proverb says, to mind +how we build our nest, to take care of it when it is +built."</p> + +<p>"And certainly yours is as charming a nest as the +most fastidious bird could desire."</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it? for, as I say, I never refuse myself +anything. Now, I consider my chamber as above my +means; in fact, too handsome for one like me; then I +have two birds; always, at least, two pots of flowers +on my mantelpiece, without reckoning those on the +window-ledges; and yet, as I told you, I had actually +got three francs and a half in my money-box, towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +the ornaments I hoped some day to be able to buy for +my mantelpiece."</p> + +<p>"And what became of this store?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, why, lately, when I saw the poor Morels so +very, very wretched, I said to myself, 'What is the use +of hoarding up these stupid pieces of money, and letting +them lie idle in a money-box, when good and honest +people are actually starving for want of them?' So I +took out the three francs, and lent them to Morel. +When I say lent, I mean I told him I only lent them, to +spare his feelings; but, of course, I never meant to have +them back again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but my dear neighbour, you cannot refuse to let +them repay you, now they are so differently situated."</p> + +<p>"Why, no; I think if Morel were to offer them to +me now, I should not refuse them; it will, at any rate, +enable me to begin my store for buying the chimney +ornaments I do so long to possess. You would scarcely +believe how silly I am; but I almost dream of a beautiful +clock, such a one as I showed you just now, and two +lovely vases, one on each side."</p> + +<p>"But, then, you should think a little of the future."</p> + +<p>"What future?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose you were to be ill, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Me ill? Oh, the idea!" And the fresh, hearty +laugh of Rigolette resounded through the street.</p> + +<p>"Well, why should you not be?"</p> + +<p>"Do I look like a person likely to be sick?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I never saw a more bright or blooming +countenance."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what could possibly have put it into +your head to talk such nonsense as to suppose I +could ever be ill?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, but—"</p> + +<p>"Why, I am only eighteen years of age, and, considering +the sort of life I lead, there is no chance of such a +thing. I rise at five o'clock, winter or summer; I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +never up after ten, or, at latest, eleven; I eat sufficient +to satisfy my appetite, which certainly is not a very +great one; I do not suffer from exposure to cold; I +work all day, singing as merrily as a lark; and at night +I sleep like a dormouse. My heart is free, light, and +happy. My employers are so well satisfied with what I +do for them, that I am quite sure not to want for work; +so what is there for me to be ill about? It really is too +amusing to hear you try to talk sense, and only utter +nonsense! Me ill!" And, at the very absurdity of the +idea, Rigolette again burst into an immoderate fit of +laughter, so loud and prolonged that a stout gentleman +who was walking before her, carrying a dog under his +arm, turned around quite angrily, believing all this +mirth was excited by his presence.</p> + +<p>Resuming her composure, Rigolette slightly curtseyed +to the stout individual, and pointing to the animal under +his arm, said:</p> + +<p>"Is your dog so very tired, sir?"</p> + +<p>The fat man grumbled out some indistinct reply, and +continued on his way.</p> + +<p>"My dear neighbour," said Rodolph, "are you losing +your senses?"</p> + +<p>"It is your fault if I am."</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"Because you talk such nonsense to me."</p> + +<p>"Do you call my saying that perhaps you might be +ill, talking foolishly?"</p> + +<p>And, once more overcome by the irresistible mirth +awakened by the absurdity of Rodolph's suggestion, Rigolette +again relapsed into long and hearty fits of laughter; +while Rodolph, deeply struck by this blind, yet +happy reliance upon the future, felt angry with himself +for having tried to shake it, though he almost shuddered +as he pictured to himself the havoc a single month's illness +would make in this peaceful mode of life. Then +the implicit reliance entertained by Rigolette on the stability<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +of her employ, and her youthful courage, her sole +treasures, struck Rodolph as breathing the very essence +of pure and contented innocence; for the confidence expressed +by the young dressmaker arose neither from +recklessness nor improvidence, but from an instinctive +dependence and belief in that divine justice which would +never forsake a virtuous and industrious creature,—a +simple girl, whose greatest crime was in relying too +confidently on the blessed gifts of youth and health, the +precious boon of a heavenly benefactor. Do the birds +of the air remember, as they flit on gay and agile wing +amidst the blue skies of summer, or skim lightly over +the sweet-smelling fields of blooming lucerne, that bleak, +cold winter must follow so much enjoyment?</p> + +<p>"Then," said Rodolph to the grisette, "it seems you +have no wish for anything more than you already +possess?"</p> + +<p>"No, really I have not."</p> + +<p>"Positively, nothing you desire?"</p> + +<p>"No, I tell you. Stay, yes, now I recollect, there are +those sweet pretty chimney ornaments; but I shall be +sure to have them some of these days, though I do not +know exactly when; but still, they do so run in my +head, that, sooner than be disappointed, I will sit up all +night to work."</p> + +<p>"And besides these ornaments?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing more; no, I cannot recollect any one +other thing I care for more especially now."</p> + +<p>"Why now, particularly?"</p> + +<p>"Because, yesterday, if you had asked me the same +question, I should have replied, there was nothing I +wanted more than an agreeable neighbour in your apartments, +to give me an opportunity of showing all the +little acts of kindness I have been accustomed to perform, +and to receive nice little attentions in return."</p> + +<p>"Well, but you know, my dear neighbour, we have +already entered into an agreement to be mutually serviceable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +to each other; you will look after my linen for +me, and I shall clean up and polish your chamber for +you; and besides attending to my linen, you are to +wake me every morning early by tapping against the +wainscot."</p> + +<p>"And do you think you have named all I shall expect +you to do?"</p> + +<p>"What else can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you, you have not yet come to the end of +your services! Why, do you not intend to take me out +every Sunday, either to the Boulevards or beyond the +barriers? You know that is the only day I can enjoy a +little pleasure."</p> + +<p>"To be sure I do; and when summer comes we will +go into the country."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I hate the country! I cannot bear to be anywhere +but in Paris. Yet I used, once upon a time, to +go, out of good nature, with a young friend of mine, who +was with me in prison, to visit Meudon and St. Germain. +My friend was a very nice, good girl, and because +she had such a sweet voice, and was always +singing, people used to call her the Goualeuse."</p> + +<p>"And what has become of her?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. She spent all the money she brought +with her out of prison, without seeming to have much +pleasure for it; she was inclined to be mournful and +serious, though kind and sympathising to every one. At +the time we used to go out together I had not met with +any work to do, but directly I procured employment, I +never allowed myself a holiday. I gave her my address, +but, as she never came to see me, I suppose she, like myself, +was too busy to spare the time. But I dare say you +don't care to hear any more about her; I only mentioned +it because I wanted to show you that it is no use +asking me to go into the country with you, for I never +did, and never will go there, except with the young +friend I was telling you about; but whenever you can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +afford to take me out to dinner or to the play, I shall be +quite ready to accompany you, and when it does not +suit you to spend the money, or when you have none to +spend, why then we will take a walk, and have a good +look at the shops, which is almost the nicest thing I +know, unless it is buying at them. And I promise you, +you shall have no reason to feel ashamed of my appearance, +let us go out among ever such company. Oh, +when I wear my dark blue levantine silk gown, I flatter +myself I <i>do</i> look like somebody! It is such a love of a +dress, and fits me so beautifully! I never wear it but +on Sundays, and then I put on such a love of a lace cap, +trimmed with shaded orange-colour riband, which looks +so well with dark hair like mine; then I have some such +elegant boots of satin hue, made for me, not bought at +the Temple! And last of all comes such a shawl! Oh, +neighbour, I doubt if you ever walked with any one in +such perfect beauty; it is a real <i>bourre-de-soie</i>, in imitation +of cashmere. I quite expect we shall be stared at +and admired by every one as we go along; the men will +look back as they pass me, and say, 'Upon my word +that's an uncommon pretty-looking girl,—she is, 'pon +honour!' Then the women will cry, 'What a stylish-looking +man! Do you see that tall, thin person? I +declare, he has such a fashionable appearance that he +might pass as somebody if he liked; what a becoming +and handsome moustachio he has!' And between ourselves, +neighbour, I quite agree with these remarks, and +especially about the moustachio, for I dearly love to see +a man wear them. Unfortunately M. Germain did not +wear a moustachio, on account of the situation he held; +I believe his employer did not permit his young men to +wear them. To be sure, M. Cabrion did wear moustachios, +but then, his were quite red, like his great +bushy beard, and I hate those huge beards; and besides, +I did not like Cabrion for two other reasons; one was, +he used to play all kinds of scampish tricks out in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +street, and the other thing I disliked was his tormenting +poor old Pipelet as he did. Certainly, M. Giraudeau, +the person who lived next to me before M. Cabrion, was +rather a smart-looking man, and dressed very well; but +then he squinted, and at first that used to put me out +very much, because he always seemed to be looking past +me at some one by my side, and I always found myself, +without thinking of it, turning around to see who it +could be."</p> + +<p>And here Rigolette indulged in another peal of merry +laughter.</p> + +<p>As Rodolph listened to all this childish and voluble +talk, he felt almost at a loss how to estimate the pretensions +of the grisette to be considered of first-rate prudence +and virtue; sometimes the very absence of all +reserve in her communications, and the recollection of +the great bolt on her door, made him conclude that she +bore a general and platonic affection only for every +occupant of the chamber adjoining her own, and that +her interest in them was nothing more than that of a +sister; but again he smiled at the credulity which could +believe such a thing possible, when the unprotected condition +of the young dressmaker, and the fascinations of +Messrs. Giraudeau, Cabrion, and Germain were taken +into account. Still, the frankness and originality of +Rigolette made him pause in the midst of his doubts, +and refuse to allow him to judge harshly of the ingenuous +and light-hearted being who tripped beside him.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted at the way you have disposed of my +Sundays," said Rodolph, gaily. "I see plainly we shall +have some capital treats."</p> + +<p>"Stop a little, Mr. Extravagance, and let me tell you +how I mean to regulate our expenses; in the summer +we can dine beautifully, either at the Chartreuse or the +Montmartre hermitage, for three francs, then half a +dozen quadrilles or waltzes, and a ride upon the wooden +horses,—oh, I do so love riding on horseback!—well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +that will bring it altogether to about five francs, not a +farthing more, I assure you. Do you waltz?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very well."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that. M. Cabrion always trod on my +toes, so that he quite put me out; and then, too, by way +of a joke, he used to throw fulminating balls about on +the ground; so at last the people at the Chartreuse +would not allow us to be admitted there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I promise you to be very well behaved whenever +we are met together; and as for the fulminating balls, +I promise you never to have anything to do with +them; but when winter comes, how shall we manage +then?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in the winter we shall be able to dine very +comfortably for forty sous. I think people never care so +much for eating in the winter as summer; so then we +shall have three francs left to pay for our going to the +play, for I shall not allow you to exceed a hundred sous +for the whole of our expenses, and that is a great deal of +money to spend in pleasure; but then, if you were out +alone, it would cost you much more at the tavern or +billiard-rooms, where you would only meet a parcel of +low, ignorant men, smelling of tobacco enough to choke +you. Is it not much better for you to pass a pleasant +day with a nice little, cheerful, good-tempered companion, +who, in return for the holiday you so agreeably +pass with her, will contrive to make up the extra expense +she costs you by hemming your handkerchiefs, +and looking after your domestic affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing can be more advantageous, as far as I am +concerned; but suppose any of my friends should meet +me walking with my pretty neighbour, what then?"</p> + +<p>"What then! Why, they would just look at you, and +then at me; and then they would smile and say, 'That's +a lucky fellow, that Rodolph!'"</p> + +<p>"You know my name, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, when I heard that the chamber adjoining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +mine was let, I inquired the name of the person +who had taken it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say every one who met us out together +would remark, as you observe, what a lucky fellow I +was; then the next thing would be to envy me."</p> + +<p>"So much the better."</p> + +<p>"They would believe I was perfectly happy."</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course they would."</p> + +<p>"All the while I should only be so in appearance."</p> + +<p>"Well, what does that signify? As long as people +think you happy, what does it matter whether you are +really so or not? Men neither require nor care for +more than outward show."</p> + +<p>"But your reputation might suffer."</p> + +<p>Rigolette burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.</p> + +<p>"The reputation of a grisette!" said she. "Do you +suppose that any person believes in such a phenomenon? +Ah, if I had either father, mother, brother, or sister, for +their sakes I should fear what people might say of me, +and be anxious about the world's opinion; but I am +alone in the world, and have no person to consider but +myself, so, while I know myself to be free from blame +or reproach, I care not for what any one may say of +me, or think either."</p> + +<p>"But still I should be very unhappy."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To pass for being a happy as well as a lucky fellow, +when, after the fashion of Papa Crétu's dinner, I should +be expected to make a meal off a dry crust, while all the +tempting dishes contained in a cookery-book were being +read to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense! you will be quite contented to live as +I describe. You will find me so grateful for every little +act of kindness, so easily pleased, and so little troublesome, +that I know you will say, 'Why, after all, I may +as well spend my Sunday with her as with any one else.' +If you have any time in the evening, and have no objection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +to come and sit with me, you can have the use of +my fire and light. If it would not tire you to read +aloud, you would amuse me by reading some nice novel +or romance. Better do that than lose your money at +cards or billiards; otherwise, if you are occupied at your +office, or prefer going to a café, you can just bid me good +night when you come in, if I happen still to be up; but +should I have gone to bed, why then I will wish you +good morning at an early hour next day, by tapping +against your wainscot to awaken you. Why, M. Germain, +my last fellow lodger, used to pass all his evenings +with me in that manner, and never complained of their +being dull. He read me all Walter Scott's novels in the +course of the winter, which was really very amusing. +Sometimes, when it chanced to be a wet Sunday, he +would go and buy something at the pastry-cook's, and +we used to have a nice little dinner in my room; and +afterwards we amused ourselves with reading; and we +liked that almost as well as going to the theatre. You +see by this that I am not hard to please, but, on the contrary, +am always ready to do what I can to make things +pleasant and agreeable. And then you were talking +about illness. Oh, if ever you should be ill, then, indeed, +I should be a comfort to you, a real Sister of +Charity! Only ask the Morels what sort of a nurse I +am. You don't half know your own good fortune, M. +Rodolph; you have drawn a real prize in the lottery of +good luck to have me for a neighbour, I can assure you."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you; but I always was lucky. +Apropos of your late fellow lodger, M. Germain, where +is he at present?"</p> + +<p>"In Paris, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Then you do not see much of him now?"</p> + +<p>"No, he has never been to see me since he quitted +the house."</p> + +<p>"But where is he living? And what is he doing at +present?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Because," said Rodolph, smiling, "I am jealous of +him, and I wish—"</p> + +<p>"Jealous!" exclaimed Rigolette, bursting into a fit of +laughter. "La, bless you, there is no occasion for that, +poor fellow!"</p> + +<p>"But, seriously, my good neighbour, I wish most particularly +to obtain M. Germain's address, or to be +enabled to meet him. You know where he lives; and +without any boast, I think I have good reason to expect +you would trust me with the secret of his residence, and +to believe me quite incapable of revealing again the information +I ask of you, assuring you most solemnly it is +for his own interest more than mine I am solicitous of +finding him."</p> + +<p>"And seriously, my good neighbour, although it is +probable and possible your intentions towards M. Germain +are as you report them, I am not at liberty to give +you the address of M. Germain, he having strictly and +expressly forbidden my so doing to any person whatever; +therefore, when I refuse to tell <i>you</i>, you may be +quite sure it is because I really am not at liberty to do +so; and that ought not to make you feel offended with +me. If you had entrusted me with a secret, you would +be pleased, would you not, to have me as careful of it, +and determined not to reveal it, as I am about M. Germain's +affair?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, but—"</p> + +<p>"Neighbour, once and for all, do not say anything +more on this subject. I have made a promise which I +will keep faithfully and honourably; so now you know +my mind, and if you ask me a hundred times, I shall +answer you just the same."</p> + +<p>Spite of her thoughtlessness and frivolity, the young +dressmaker pronounced these last words with so much +firmness that, to his great regret, Rodolph perceived the +impossibility of gaining the desired information respecting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +Germain through her means; and his mind revolted +at the idea of laying any snare to entrap her into a betrayal +of her secret; he therefore, after a slight pause, +gaily replied:</p> + +<p>"Well, let us say no more about it, then; but, upon +my life, I don't wonder at you, who can so well keep the +secrets of others, guarding your own so closely."</p> + +<p>"Me have secrets?" cried Rigolette. "I only wish I +had some more secrets of my own; it must be very +amusing to have secrets."</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean to assert that you have not +a 'nice little secret' about some love-affair?"</p> + +<p>"Love-affair!"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to persuade me you have never been +in love?" said Rodolph, looking fixedly at Rigolette, the +better to read the truth in her telltale features.</p> + +<p>"Been in love? Why, of course I have, with M. +Giraudeau, M. Cabrion, M. Germain, and you!"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you loved them just as you do me, +neither more nor less?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, really, I cannot tell you so very exactly! If +anything, I should say less; because I had to become +accustomed to the squinting eyes of M. Giraudeau, the +disagreeable jokes and red beard of M. Cabrion, and +the low spirits and constant dejection of M. Germain, +for the poor young man was very sad, and always +seemed to have a heavy load on his mind, while you, +on the contrary, took my fancy directly I saw you."</p> + +<p>"Come now, my pretty neighbour, you must not be +angry with me; I am going to speak candidly and +sincerely, like an old friend."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be afraid to say anything to me; I am +very good-natured; and besides, I feel certain you are +too kind; you could never have the heart to say anything +to me that would give me pain."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right; but do tell me truly, have you +never had any lovers?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lovers! I should think not! What time have I for +such things?"</p> + +<p>"What has time got to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, everything, to be sure. In the first place, I +should be jealous as a tigress; and I should be continually +worrying myself with one idea or another; and let +me ask you whether you think it is likely I could afford +to lose two or three hours a day in fretting and grieving. +And then, suppose my lover were to turn out false! Oh, +what tears it would cost me; how wretched I should be! +All that sort of thing would put me sadly behindhand +with my work, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Well, but all lovers are not faithless and a cause of +grief and sorrow to their mistress."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you! It would be still worse for me, if he +were all goodness and truth. Why, then I should not +be able to live without him for a single hour; and as +most probably he would be obliged to remain all day in +his office, or shop, or manufactory, I should be like some +poor, restless spirit all the time of his absence. I should +imagine all sorts of things, picture to myself his being +at that moment pleasantly engaged in company with one +he loved better than myself. And then, if he forsook +me, oh, Heaven only knows what I might be tempted +to do in my despair, or what might become of me. One +thing is very certain, that my work would suffer for it; +and then what should I do? Why, quietly as I live at +present, it is much as I can manage to live by working +from twelve to fifteen hours a day. Where should I be, +if I were to lose three or four days a week by tormenting +myself? How could I ever catch up all that time? Oh, +I never could; it would be quite impossible! I should +be obliged, then, to take a situation, to live under the +control of a mistress; but no, no, I will never bring +myself to that,—I love my liberty too well."</p> + +<p>"Your liberty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I might go as forewoman to the person who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +keeps the warehouse for which I work; she would give +me four hundred francs a year, with board and lodging."</p> + +<p>"And you will not accept it?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! I should then be the slave and servant +of another; whereas, however humble my home, at least +there is no one there to control me. I am free to come +and go as I please. I owe nothing to any one. I have +good health, good courage, good heart, and good spirits; +and now that I can say a good neighbour also, what is +there left to desire?"</p> + +<p>"Then you have never thought of marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Marriage, indeed! Why, what would be the use of +my thinking about it, when, poor as I am, I could not +expect to meet with a husband better off than myself? +Look at the poor Morels; just see the consequences of +burthening yourself with a family before you have the +means of providing for one; whilst, so long as there is +only oneself to provide for, one can always manage +somehow."</p> + +<p>"And do you never build castles in the air?—never +dream?"</p> + +<p>"Dream? Oh, yes!—of my chimney ornaments; but, +besides them, what can I have to wish for?"</p> + +<p>"But, suppose now some relation you never heard of +in your life were to die, and leave you a nice little +fortune—twelve hundred francs a year, for instance—you +have made five hundred sufficient to supply all your +wants?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it might prove a good thing; perhaps a bad +one."</p> + +<p>"How could it be a bad one?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am happy and contented as I am; but I +do not know what I might be if I came to be rich. I +can assure you that, when, after a hard day's work, I go +to bed in my own snug little room, when my lamp is extinguished, +and by the glimmer of the few cinders left +in my stove I see my neat, clean little apartment, my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +curtains, my chest of drawers, my chairs, my birds, my +watch, my table covered with the work confided to me, +left all ready to begin the first thing in the morning, and +I say to myself, all this is mine,—I have no one to thank +for it but myself,—oh, neighbour, the very thoughts lull +me into such a happy state of mind that I fall asleep +believing myself the most fortunate creature on earth to +be so surrounded with comforts. But, I declare, here +we are at the Temple! You must own it is a beautiful +object?"</p> + +<p>Although not partaking of the profound admiration +expressed by Rigolette at the first glimpse of the Temple, +Rodolph was, nevertheless, much struck by the singular +appearance of this enormous bazar with its many +diverging passages and dependencies. Towards the middle +of the Rue du Temple, not far from the fountain +which stands in the corner of a large square, may be +seen an immense parallelogram, built of wood, and surmounted +with a slated roof. This building is the Temple, +bounded on the left by the Rue du Petit Thouars, and on +the right by the Rue Percée; it leads to a large circular +building,—a colossal rotunda, surrounded with a gallery, +forming a sort of arcade. A long opening, intersecting +this parallelogram in its length and breadth, divides it +into two equal parts, which are again divided and subdivided +into an infinity of small lateral and transverse +openings, crossing each other in all directions, and sheltered +by the roof of the building from all severity of +weather. In this bazar new merchandise is generally +prohibited; but the smallest fragment of any sort of +material, the merest morsel of iron, brass, lead, or +pewter, will here find both a buyer and a seller.</p> + +<p>Here are to be found dealers in pieces of every coloured +cloth, of all ages, qualities, shades, and capabilities, +for the service of such as wish to repair or alter damaged +or ill-fitting garments. Some of the shops present +huge piles of old shoes, some trodden down of heel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +others twisted, torn, worn, split, and in holes, presenting +a mass of nameless, formless, colourless objects, among +which are grimly visible some species of fossil soles +about an inch thick, studded with thick nails, resembling +the door of a prison and hard as a horse's hoof, +the actual skeletons of shoes whose other component +parts have long since been consumed by the devouring +hand of Time. Yet all this mouldy, dried up accumulation +of decaying rubbish will find a willing purchaser, an +extensive body of merchants trading in this particular +line.</p> + +<p>Then there are the vendors of gimps, fringes, bindings, +cords, tassels, and edgings of silk, cotton, or thread, arising +out of the demolition of curtains past all cure and +defying all reparation. Other enterprising individuals +devote themselves to the sale of females' hats and bonnets, +these articles only reaching their emporium by the +means of the dealers in old clothes, and after having performed +the strangest journeys and undergone the most +surprising transformations, the most singular changes of +colour.</p> + +<p>In order that the article traded in may not take up too +much room in a warehouse ordinarily the size of a large +box, these bonnets are carefully folded in half, then flattened +and laid upon each other as closely as they can be +packed, with the exception of the brim. They are treated +in every respect the same as herrings, requiring to be +stowed in a cask. By these means it is almost incredible +what a quantity of these usually fragile articles may +be accommodated in a small space of about four feet +square.</p> + +<p>Should a purchaser present himself, the various specimens +are removed from the high pressure to which they +have been exposed, the vendor, with a <i>dégagé</i> air, gives +the crown a dexterous blow with his fist, which makes +the centre rise to its accustomed situation, then presses +the front out upon his knee, concluding by holding up,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +with an air of intense satisfaction at his own ingenuity, +an object so wild, so whimsical, and withal so irresistibly +striking, as to remind one of those traditional costumes +ascribed for ages past to fishwomen, apple-women, or any +whose avocation involves the necessity of carrying a +basket on the head.</p> + +<p>Farther on, at the sign of the Goût du Jour, beneath +the arcades of the Rotunda, elevated at the end of the +large opening which intersects the Temple and divides it +into two parts, are suspended myriads of vestments of all +colours, forms, and fashions, even more various and extraordinary +in their respective styles than the bonnets +just described. There may be seen stylish coats of unbleached +linen, adorned with three rows of brass buttons +<i>à la hussarde</i>, and sprucely ornamented with a small fur +collar of fox-skin; great-coats, originally bottle-green, +but changed, by age and service, to the hue of the pistachio +nut, edged with black braid, and set off with a +bright flaming lining of blue and yellow plaid, giving +quite a fresh and youthful appearance, and producing +the most genteel and tasty effect; coats that, when new, +bore the appellation, as regards their cut, of being <i>à +queue de Morue</i>, of a dark drab colour, with velvet, shag, +or plush collar, and further decorated with buttons, once +silver-gilt, but now changed to a dull coppery hue. In +the same emporium may be observed sundry pelisses or +polonaises of maroon-coloured cloth, with cat-skin collar, +trimmed with braiding, and rich in brandenburgs, tassels, +and cords. Not far from these are displayed a great +choice of dressing-gowns most artistically constructed +out of old cloaks, whose triple collars and capes have +been removed, the inside lined with remnants of printed +cotton, the most in request being blue or dark green, +made up here and there with pieces of various distinct +shades, and embroidered with old braid, and lined with +red cotton, on which is traced a flowing design in vivid +orange, collar and cuffs similarly adorned; a cord for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +the waist, made out of an old bell-rope, serves as a +finish to these elegant <i>déshabillés</i> so exultingly worn by +Robert Macaire. We shall briefly pass over a mass of +costumes more or less uncouth, in the midst of which +may be found some real and authentic relics of royalty +or greatness, dragged by the revolution of time from the +palaces of the rich and mighty to the dingy shelves of +the Rotunda of the Temple.</p> + +<p>These displays of old shoes, hats, and coats are the +grotesque parts of the bazar,—the place where rags and +faded finery seek to set up their claim to notice. But it +must be allowed, or rather distinctly asserted, that the +vast establishment we are describing is of immense utility +to the poor or persons in mediocre circumstances. There +they may purchase, at an amazing decrease of price, most +excellent articles, nearly new, and whose wear has been +little or none. One side of the Temple was devoted to +articles of bedding, and contained piles of blankets, +sheets, mattresses, and pillows. Farther on were carpets, +curtains, every description of useful household +utensil. Close at hand were stores of wearing apparel, +shoes, stockings, caps, and bonnets, for all ages, as well +as all classes and conditions.</p> + +<p>All these articles were scrupulously clean and devoid +of anything that could offend or shock the most fastidious +person. Those who have never visited this bazar +will scarcely credit in how short a space of time, and +with how little money, a cart may be filled with every +requisite for the complete fitting out of two or three +utterly destitute families.</p> + +<p>Rodolph was particularly struck with the manner, at +once attentive, eager, and cheerful, of the various dealers, +as, standing at the door of their shops, they solicited the +patronage and custom of the passers-by. Their mode of +address, at once familiar and respectful, seemed altogether +unlike the tone of the present day. Scarcely had +Rigolette and her companion entered that part of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +place devoted to the sale of bedding, than they were surrounded +by the most seducing offers and solicitations.</p> + +<p>"Walk in, sir, and look at my mattresses, if you +please," said one. "They are quite new. I will just +open a corner to show you how beautifully white and +soft the wool is,—more like the wool of a lamb than a +sheep."</p> + +<p>"My pretty lady, step in and see my beautiful, fine +white sheets. They are better than new, for the first +stiffness has been taken out of them. They are soft as +a glove, and strong as iron."</p> + +<p>"Come, my new-married couple, treat yourselves to +one of my handsome counterpanes. Only see how soft, +light, and warm it is,—quite as good as eider-down,—every +bit the same as new,—never been used twenty +times. Now, then, my good lady, persuade your husband +to treat you to one. Let me have the pleasure of +serving you, and I will fit you up for housekeeping as +cheaply as you can desire. Oh, you'll be pleased, I +know,—you'll come again to see Mother Bouvard! +You will find I keep everything. I bought a splendid +lot of second-hand goods yesterday. Pray walk in and +let me have the pleasure of showing them to you. Come, +you may as well see if you don't buy. I shall charge +you nothing for looking at them."</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, neighbour," said Rodolph to Rigolette, +"this fat old lady shall have the preference. She takes +us for husband and wife. I am so pleased with her for +the idea that I decide upon laying out my money at her +shop."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, let it be the fat old lady," said Rigolette. +"I like her appearance, too."</p> + +<p>Rigolette and her companion then went into Mother +Bouvard's. By a magnanimity, perhaps unexampled +before in the Temple, the rivals of Mother Bouvard +made no disturbance at the preference awarded to her. +One of her neighbours, indeed, went so far as to say:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 322px;"><a name="image35" id="image35"></a> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="322" height="500" alt="Drew carefully out a sheet of paper. +Original Etching by Adrian Marcel." title="Drew carefully out a sheet of paper." /> +<span class="caption"><i>Drew carefully out a sheet of paper.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Adrian Marcel.</span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So long as it is Mother Bouvard, and no one else, +that has this customer; she has a family, and is the +dowager and the honour of the Temple."</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, impossible to have a face more prepossessing, +more open, and more frank than that of the +dowager of the Temple.</p> + +<p>"Here, my pretty little woman," she said to Rigolette, +who was looking at sundry articles with the eye of a connoisseur, +"this is the second-hand bargain I told you of: +two bed furnitures and bedding complete, and as good as +new. If you would like a small old <i>secrétaire</i> very cheap, +here is one (and Mother Bouvard pointed to one). I had +it in the same lot. I do not usually buy furniture, but I +could not refuse this, for the poor people of whom I had +it appeared to be so very unhappy! Poor lady! it was +the sale of this piece of furniture which seemed to cut +her to the very heart. I dare say it was a family piece +of 'furniture.'"</p> + +<p>At these words, and whilst the shopkeeper was settling +with Rigolette as to the prices of the various articles of +purchase, Rodolph was attentively looking at the <i>secrétaire</i> +which Mother Bouvard had pointed out. It was +one of those ancient pieces of rosewood furniture, almost +triangular in shape, closed by a front panel, which let +down, and, supported by two long brass hinges, served +for a writing-table. In the centre of this panel, which +was inlaid with ornaments of wood of different patterns, +Rodolph observed a cipher let in, of ebony, and which +consisted of an M. and an R., intertwined and surmounted +with a count's coronet. He conjectured, therefore, that +the last possessor of this piece of furniture was a person +in an elevated rank of society. His curiosity increased, +and he looked at the <i>secrétaire</i> with redoubled scrutiny; +he opened the drawers mechanically, one after the other, +when, having some difficulty in drawing out the last, and +trying to discover the obstacle, he perceived, and drew +carefully out, a sheet of paper, half shut up between the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +drawer and the bottom of the opening. Whilst Rigolette +was concluding her bargain with Mother Bouvard, Rodolph +was engrossed in examining what he had found. From +the numerous erasures which covered this paper, he perceived +that it was the copy of an unfinished letter. +Rodolph, with considerable difficulty, made out what +follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Sir</span>: Be assured that the most extreme misery alone could +compel me to the step which I now take. It is not mistaken +pride which causes my scruples, but the absolute want of any and +every claim on you for the service which I am about to ask. The +sight of my daughter, reduced, as well as myself, to the most +frightful destitution, has made me throw aside all hesitation. A +few words only as to the cause of the misfortunes which have +overwhelmed me. After the death of my husband, all my fortune +was three hundred thousand francs (12,000<i>l.</i>), which was +placed by my brother with M. Jacques Ferrand, the notary; I +received at Angers, whither I had settled with my daughter, the +interest of this sum, remitted to me by my brother. You know, +sir, the horrible event which put an end to his days. Ruined, as +it seems, by secret and unfortunate speculations, he put an end +to his existence eight months since. After this sad event, I +received a few lines, written by him in desperation before this +awful deed. 'When I should peruse them,' he wrote, 'he should +no longer exist.' He terminated this letter by informing me +that he had not any acknowledgment of the sum which he had +placed, in my name, with M. Jacques Ferrand, as that individual +never gave any receipt, but was honour and piety itself; that, +therefore, it would be sufficient for me to present myself to that +gentleman, and my business would be regularly and satisfactorily +adjusted. As soon as I was able to turn my attention to anything +besides the mournful end of my poor brother, I came to +Paris, where I knew no one, sir, but yourself, and you only by +the connection that had subsisted between yourself and my husband. +I have told you that the sum deposited with M. Jacques +Ferrand was my entire fortune, and that my brother forwarded +to me every six months the interest which arose from that sum. +More than a year had elapsed since the last payment, and, consequently, +I went to M. Jacques Ferrand to ask the amount of +him, as I was greatly in want of it. Scarcely was I in his presence, +than, without any consideration of my grief, he accused my +brother of having borrowed two thousand francs of him, which +he had lost by his death, adding, that not only was suicide a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +crime before God and man, but, also, that it was an act of robbery, +of which he, M. Jacques Ferrand, was the victim. I was +indignant at such language, for the remarkable probity of my +poor brother was well known; he had, it is true, unknown to me +and his friends, lost his fortune in hazardous speculations, but he +had died with an unspotted reputation, deeply regretted by all, +and not leaving any debt except to his notary. I replied to M. +Ferrand, that I authorised him at once to take the two thousand +francs, which he claimed from my brother, from the three hundred +thousand francs of mine, which had been deposited with +him. At these words, he looked at me with an air of utter +astonishment, and asked me what three hundred thousand francs +I alluded to. 'To those which my brother placed in your hands +eighteen months ago, sir, and of which I have, till now, received +the interest paid by you through my brother,' I replied, not comprehending +his question. The notary shrugged his shoulders, +smiled disdainfully, as if my words were not serious, and replied +that, so far from depositing any money with him, my brother +had borrowed two thousand francs from him.</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me to express to you my horror at this +reply. 'What, then, has become of this sum?' I exclaimed. 'My +daughter and myself have no other resource, and, if we are +deprived of that, nothing remains for us but complete wretchedness. +What will become of us?' 'I really don't know,' replied +the notary, coldly. 'It is most probable that your brother, +instead of placing this sum with me, as you say, has used it in +those unfortunate speculations in which, unknown to any one, he +was engaged.' 'It is false, sir!' I exclaimed. 'My brother was +honour itself, and, so far from despoiling me and my daughter, +he would have sacrificed himself for us. He would never marry, +in order that he might leave all he had to my child.' 'Dare you +to assert, madame, that I am capable of denying a deposit confided +in me?' inquired the notary, with indignation, which +seemed so honourable and sincere that I replied, 'No, certainly +not, sir; your reputation for probity is well known; but yet I +can never accuse my brother of so cruel an abuse of confidence.' +'What are your proofs of this claim?' inquired M. Ferrand. 'I +have none, sir. Eighteen months since, my brother, who undertook +the management of my affairs, wrote to me, saying, "I have +an excellent opportunity of obtaining six per cent.; send me your +power of attorney to sell your stock, and I will deposit the three +hundred thousand francs, which I will make up, with M. Jacques +Ferrand, the notary." I sent the papers which he asked for to +my brother, and a few days afterwards he informed me that the +investment was made by you, and at the end of six months he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +remitted to me the interest due.' 'At least, then, you have some +letters on this subject, madame?' 'No, sir; they were only on +family matters, and I did not preserve them.' 'Unfortunately, +madame, I cannot do anything in this matter,' replied the +notary. 'If my honesty was not beyond all suspicion, all attack, +I should say to you, the courts of law are open to you,—attack +me; the judges will have to choose between the word of an honourable +man, who for thirty years has had the esteem of worthy +men, and the posthumous declaration of a man who, after being +ruined in most foolish undertakings, has found refuge only in +suicide. I say to you now, attack me, madame, if you dare, and +your brother's memory will be dishonoured! But I believe you +will have the good sense to resign yourself to a misfortune which, +no doubt, is very severe, but to which I am an entire stranger.' +'But, sir, I am a mother! If my fortune is lost, my daughter and +I have nothing left but a small stock of furniture; if that is sold, +we have nothing left, sir,—nothing, but the most frightful destitution +staring us in the face.' 'You have been cheated,—it is +a misfortune, but I can do nothing in the matter,' answered the +notary. 'Once more, madame, your brother has deceived you. +If you doubt between his word and mine, attack me; go to +law, and the judges will decide.' I quitted the notary's in the +deepest despair. What could I do in this extremity? I had no +means of proving the validity of my claim; I was convinced of +the strict honour of my brother, and confounded at the assertion +of M. Ferrand, and having no person to whom I could turn +for advice (for you were travelling), and knowing that I must +have money to pay for legal opinions and advice, and desiring to +preserve the very little that I had left, I dared not commence a +suit at law. It was at this juncture—"</p></div> + + +<p>This sketch of the letter ended here, for what followed +was covered with ink erasures, which completely blotted +out the lines. At the bottom of the page, and in the +corner, Rodolph found this kind of memorandum:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"To write to the Duchesse de Lucenay, for M. de Saint-Remy."</p></div> + +<p>Rodolph remained deeply thoughtful after the perusal +of this fragment of a letter, in which he had found two +names whose connection struck him. Although the fresh +infamy which appeared to accuse Jacques Ferrand was +not proved, yet this man had proved himself so pitiless +towards the unhappy Morel, had behaved so shamefully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +to Louise, his daughter, that the denial of a deposit, +protected by certain impunity, on the part of such a +wretch, appeared to him by no means improbable. This +mother, who claimed a fortune which had disappeared so +strangely, was, doubtless, used to a life of ease and comfort. +Ruined by a sudden blow, and knowing no one +in Paris, as the letter said, what must have been the existence +of these two females, perhaps utterly destitute and +alone in the midst of this vast metropolis!</p> + +<p>The prince had, as we know, promised sure occupation +to madame, by giving her accidentally, and to employ +her mind, a part to play in some future work of charity, +being certain to find sure misery for her to curtail before +his next meeting with that lady. He thought that, +perhaps, chance might bring before him some unfortunate +and worthy person, who would, as he trusted, interest the +heart and imagination of Madame d'Harville. The +sketch of the letter which he held in his hands, and +the copy of which had, doubtless, never been sent to the +person whose assistance was implored, evinced a high +and resigned mind, which would revolt from an offer of +alms. So, then, how many precautions, how many plans, +how much delicacy, must be employed to conceal the +source of such generous succour, or to make it accepted! +And, then, how much address to introduce oneself to +such a female, in order to judge if she really merited the +interest which she seemed capable of inspiring! Rodolph +foresaw in the development of this mysterious affair a +multitude of new and touching emotions, which would +singularly attract Madame d'Harville in the way he had +previously proposed to her.</p> + +<p>"Well, husband," said Rigolette, gaily, to Rodolph, +"what is there so interesting in that piece of paper, +which you are reading there?"</p> + +<p>"My little wife," replied Rodolph, "you are very +inquisitive; I will tell you by and by. Have you +bought all you want?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes; and your poor friends will be set up like +kings. There is nothing to do now but to pay; Madame +Bouvard has made every allowance, I must do +her that credit."</p> + +<p>"My little wife, an idea occurs to me; whilst I am +paying, suppose you go and choose the clothes for +Madame Morel and her children? I confess my ignorance +on the subject of such purchases. You can tell +them to bring everything here, and then all the things +will be together, and the poor people will have everything +at once."</p> + +<p>"You are right, husband. Wait here, and I shall not +be long; I know two shopkeepers here, where I am a +regular customer, and I shall find in their shops all I +require."</p> + +<p>And Rigolette went out, saying:</p> + +<p>"Madame Bouvard, take care of my husband, and do +not flirt with him, mind, whilst I am gone."</p> + +<p>And then came the laugh, and away the merry maiden +ran.</p> + +<p>"I must say, sir," said Mother Bouvard to Rodolph, +"that you have a capital little manager there. <i>Peste!</i> +she knows how to make a bargain! And then she is so +prettily behaved and pretty-looking! red and white, with +those large, beautiful black eyes, and such hair!"</p> + +<p>"Is she not charming? and ain't I a happy husband, +Madame Bouvard?"</p> + +<p>"As happy a husband as she is a wife, I am sure of +that."</p> + +<p>"You are not mistaken. But tell me how much I +owe you."</p> + +<p>"Your little lady would only give me three hundred +and thirty francs for the whole; as true as heaven's +above us, I only make fifteen francs by the bargain, for +I did not try to get the things as cheaply as I might, +for I hadn't the heart to bate 'em down; the people who +sold 'em seemed so uncommon miserable!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Really! Were they the same people that you bought +this little <i>secrétaire</i> of?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; and it cuts my heart to think of it! Only +imagine, the day before yesterday there came here a +young and still pretty girl, but so pale and thin one +could almost see through her; and you know that pains +people that have any feeling at all. Although she was, +as they say, neat as a new-made pin, her old threadbare +black worsted shawl, her black stuff gown, which was +also worn bare, her straw bonnet, in the month of January, +for she was in mourning, all showed what we call +great distress, for I am sure she was a real lady. At +last, blushing up to the very eyes, she asked me if I +would buy two beds and bedding complete, and a little +old <i>secrétaire</i>. I said that, as I sold, of course I bought, +and that if they would suit me I would have them, but +that I must see the things. She then asked me to go +with her to her apartment, not far off, on the other side +of the Boulevards, in a house on the Quay of St. Martin's +Canal. I left my niece in the shop, and followed +the lady until we reached a smallish house at the bottom +of a court; we went up to the fourth floor, and, the lady +having knocked, the door was opened by a young girl +about fourteen years of age, who was also in mourning, +and equally pale and thin, but still very, very pretty, so +much so that I was quite astonished."</p> + +<p>"Well, and this young girl?"</p> + +<p>"Was the daughter of the lady in mourning. Though +it was very cold, yet a thin gown of black cotton with +white spots, and a small, shabby mourning shawl, that +was all she had on her."</p> + +<p>"And their rooms were wretched?"</p> + +<p>"Imagine, sir, two little rooms, very neat, but nearly +empty, and so cold that I was almost froze; there was +not a spark of fire in the grate, nor any appearance of +there having been any for a very long time. All the +furniture was two beds, two chairs, a chest of drawers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +an old portmanteau, and the small <i>secrétaire</i>, and on the +chest was a parcel, wrapped in a pocket-handkerchief. +This small parcel was all the mother and child had left +when their furniture was once sold. The landlord had +taken the two bedsteads, the chairs, a trunk, and a table, +for what was due to him, as the porter said, who had +gone up-stairs with us. Then the lady begged me fairly +to estimate the mattresses, sheets, curtains, and quilts; +and, as I am an honest woman, sir, although it is my +business to buy cheap and sell dear, yet, when I saw the +poor young thing with her eyes full of tears, and her +mother, who, in spite of her affected calmness, seemed to +be weeping in her heart, I offered for the things fifteen +francs more than they were worth to sell again, I swear +I did; I agreed, too, just to oblige them, to take this +small <i>secrétaire</i>, although it is not a sort of thing I ever +deal in."</p> + +<p>"I will buy it of you, Madame Bouvard."</p> + +<p>"Will you though? So much the better, sir, for it is +else likely to stay with me for some time; I took it, as I +say, only to oblige the poor lady. I told her then what +I would give for the things, and I expected that she +would haggle a bit and ask me something more, I did. +Then it was that I saw she was not one of the common; +she was in downright misery, she was, and no mistake +about it, I am sure! I says to her, 'It's worth so much,' +She answers me, and says, 'Very well; let us go back to +your shop, and you can pay me there, for we shall not +return here again to this house.' Then she says to her +daughter, who was sitting on the trunk a-crying, 'Claire, +take this bundle.' I remember her name, and I'm sure +she called her Claire. Then the young lady got up, but, +as she was crossing the room, as she came to the little +<i>secrétaire</i> she went down on her knees before it, and, +dear heart! how the poor thing did sob! 'Courage, my +dear child; remember some one sees you,' said her +mother to her, in a low voice, but yet I heard her. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +may tell, sir, they were poor, but very proud notwithstanding. +When the lady gave me the key of the little +<i>secrétaire</i>, I saw a tear in her red eyes, and it seemed as +if her very heart bled at parting with this old piece of +furniture; but she tried to keep up her courage, and not +seem downcast before strangers. Then she told the porter +that I should come and take away all that the landlord +did not keep, and after that we came back here. +The young lady gave her arm to her mother, and carried +in her hand the small bundle, which contained all they +possessed in the world. I handed them their three hundred +and fifteen francs, and then I never saw them again."</p> + +<p>"But their name?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; the lady sold me the things in the +presence of the porter, and so I had no occasion to ask +her name, for what she sold belonged to her."</p> + +<p>"But their new address?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know that either."</p> + +<p>"No doubt they know at their old lodging?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; for, when I went back to get the things, +the porter told me, speaking of the mother and daughter, +'that they were very quiet people, very respectable, and +very unfortunate,—I hope no misfortune has happened +to them! They appeared to be very calm and composed, +but I am sure they were quite in despair.' 'And where +are they gone now to lodge?' I asked. '<i>Ma foi</i>, I don't +know!' was the answer; 'they left without telling me, +and I am sure they will not return here.'"</p> + +<p>The hopes which Rodolph had entertained for a +moment vanished; how could he go to work to discover +these two unfortunate females, when all the trace +he had of them was that the young daughter's name was +Claire, and the fragment of a letter, of which we have +already made mention, and at the bottom of which were +these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"To write to Madame de Lucenay, for M. de Saint-Remy?"</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>The only, and very remote chance of discovering the +traces of these unfortunates was through Madame de +Lucenay, who, fortunately, was on intimate terms with +Madame d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"Here, ma'am, be so good as to take your money," +said Rodolph to the shopkeeper, handing her a note for +five hundred francs.</p> + +<p>"I will give you the change, sir. What is your +address?"</p> + +<p>"Rue du Temple, No. 17."</p> + +<p>"Rue du Temple, No. 17; oh, very well, very well, I +know it."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been to that house?"</p> + +<p>"Often. First I bought the furniture of a woman +there, who lent money on wages; it is not a very creditable +business, to be sure, but that's no affair of mine,—she +sells, I buy, and so that's settled. Another time, not +six weeks ago, I went there again for the furniture of a +young man, who lived on the fourth floor, and was +moving away."</p> + +<p>"M. François Germain, perhaps?" said Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Just so. Did you know him?"</p> + +<p>"Very well; and, unfortunately, he has not left his +present address in the Rue du Temple, so I do not know +where to find him. But where shall we find a cart to +take the goods?"</p> + +<p>"As it is not far, a large truck will do, and old +Jérome is close by, my regular commissionaire. If you +wish to know the address of M. François Germain, I +can help you."</p> + +<p>"What? Do you know where he lives?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, but I know where you may be sure to +meet with him."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"At the notary's where he works."</p> + +<p>"At a notary's?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, who lives in the Rue du Sentier."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"M. Jacques Ferrand?" exclaimed Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and a very worthy man he is. There is a +crucifix and some holy boxwood in his study; it looks +just as if one was in a sacristy."</p> + +<p>"But how did you know that M. Germain worked at +this notary's?"</p> + +<p>"Why, this way: this young man came to me to ask +me to buy his little lot of furniture all of a lump. So +that time, too, though rather out of my line, I bought all +his kit, and brought it here, because he seemed a nice +young fellow, and I had a pleasure in obliging him. +Well, I bought him right clean out, and I paid him well; +he was, no doubt, very well satisfied, for, a fortnight +afterwards, he came again, to buy some bed furniture +from me. A commissionaire, with a truck, went with +him, everything was packed: well, but, at the moment +he was going to pay me, lo and behold! he had forgotten +his purse; but he looked so like an honest man that I +said to him, 'Take the things with you,—never mind, +I shall be passing your way, and will call for the money.' +'Very good,' says he; 'but I am never at home, so +call to-morrow in the Rue du Sentier, at M. Jacques +Ferrand's, the notary, where I am employed, and I will +pay you.' I went next day, and he paid me; only, what +was very odd to me was that he sold his things, and +then, a fortnight afterwards, he buys others."</p> + +<p>Rodolph thought that he was able to account for this +singular fact. Germain was desirous of destroying every +trace from the wretches who were pursuing him: fearing, +no doubt, that his removal might put them on the scent of +his fresh abode, he had preferred, in order to avoid this +danger, selling his goods, and afterwards buying others.</p> + +<p>The prince was overjoyed to think of the happiness in +store for Madame Georges, who would thus, at length, +see again that son so long and vainly sought.</p> + +<p>Rigolette now returned, with a joyful eye and smiling +lips.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, did not I tell you so?" she exclaimed. "I am +not deceived: we shall have spent six hundred and forty +francs all together, and the Morels will be set up like +princes. Here come the shopkeepers; are they not +loaded? Nothing will now be wanting for the family; +they will have everything requisite, even to a gridiron, +two newly tinned saucepans, and a coffee-pot. I said to +myself, since they are to have things done so grandly, +let them be grand; and, with all that, I shall not have +lost more than three hours. But come, neighbour, pay +as quickly as you can, and let us be gone. It will soon +be noon, and my needle must go at a famous rate to +make up for this morning."</p> + +<p>Rodolph paid, and quitted the Temple with Rigolette.</p> + +<p>At the moment when the grisette and her companion +were entering the passage, they were almost knocked +over by Madame Pipelet, who was running out, frightened, +troubled, and aghast.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" said Rigolette, "what ails you, +Madame Pipelet? Where are you running to in that +manner?"</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Mlle. Rigolette?" exclaimed Anastasie; +"it is Providence that sends you; help me to save +the life of Alfred."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"The darling old duck has fainted. Have mercy +on us! Run for me, and get me two sous' worth of +absinthe at the dram-shop,—the strongest, mind; it is +his remedy when he is indisposed in the pylorus,—that +generally sets him up again. Be kind, and do not refuse +me, I can then return to Alfred; I am all over in such +a fluster."</p> + +<p>Rigolette let go Rodolph's arm, and ran quickly to +the dram-shop.</p> + +<p>"But what has happened, Madame Pipelet?" inquired +Rodolph, following the porteress into the lodge.</p> + +<p>"How can I tell, my worthy sir? I had gone out to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +the mayor's, to church, and the cook-shop, to save Alfred +so much trotting about; I returned, and what should I +see but the dear old cosset with his legs and arms all in +the air! There, M. Rodolph," said Anastasie, opening +the door of her dog-hole, "say if that is not enough to +break one's heart!"</p> + +<p>Lamentable spectacle! With his bell-crowned hat +still on his head, even further on than usual, for the +ambiguous castor, pushed down, no doubt, by violence, +to judge by a transverse gap, covered M. Pipelet's eyes, +who was on his back on the ground at the foot of his +bed. The fainting was over, and Alfred was beginning +to make some slight gesticulations with his hands, as +if he sought to repulse somebody or something, and +then he tried to push off this troublesome visor, with +which he had been bonneted.</p> + +<p>"He kicks,—that's a beautiful symptom! He comes +to!" exclaimed the porteress, who, stooping down, +bawled in his ears, "What's the matter with my Alfred? +It's his 'Stasie who is with him. How goes it now? +There's some absinthe coming, that will set you up." +Then, assuming a falsetto voice of much endearment, +she added: "What, did they abuse and assassinate him,—the +dear old darling, the delight of his 'Stasie, eh?"</p> + +<p>Alfred heaved an immense sigh, and, with a mighty +groan, uttered the fatal word:</p> + +<p>"Cabrion!"</p> + +<p>And his tremulous hands again seemed desirous of +repulsing the fearful vision.</p> + +<p>"Cabrion! What, that cussed painter again?" exclaimed +Madame Pipelet. "Alfred dreamed of him +all night long, so that he kicked me almost to death. +This monster is his nightmare; not only does he +poison his days, but he poisons his nights also,—he +pursues him in his very sleep; yes, sir, as though +Alfred was a malefactor, and this Cabrion, whom may +Heaven confound! was his unceasing remorse."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rodolph smiled, discreetly detecting some new freak +of Rigolette's former neighbour.</p> + +<p>"Alfred! answer me; don't remain mute, you frighten +me," said Madame Pipelet; "let's try and get you up. +Why, lovey, do you keep thinking of that vagabond fellow? +You know that, when you think of that fellow, it +has the same effect on you that cabbage has,—it fills up +your pylorus and stifles you."</p> + +<p>"Cabrion!" repeated M. Pipelet, pushing up, with an +effort, the hat which had fallen so low over his eyes, +which he rolled around him with an affrighted air.</p> + +<p>Rigolette entered, carrying a small bottle of absinthe.</p> + +<p>"Thankee, ma'amselle, you are so kind!" said the old +body; and then she added, "Come, deary, suck this +down, that will make you all right."</p> + +<p>And Anastasie, presenting the phial quickly to M. +Pipelet's lips, contrived to make him swallow the absinthe. +In vain did Alfred struggle vigorously. His +wife, taking advantage of the victim's weakness, held up +his head firmly with one hand, whilst with the other she +introduced the neck of the little bottle between his +teeth, and compelled him to swallow the absinthe, after +which she exclaimed, triumphantly:</p> + +<p>"Ther-r-r-r-e, now-w-w! you're on your pins again, +my ducky!"</p> + +<p>And Alfred, having wiped his mouth with the back of +his hand, opened his eyes, rose, and inquired, in accents +of alarm:</p> + +<p>"Have you seen him?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Is he gone?"</p> + +<p>"Who, Alfred?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Cabrion!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Has he dared—" asked the porteress.</p> + +<p>M. Pipelet, as mute as the statue of the commandant, +like that redoubtable spectre, bowed his head twice with +an affirmative air.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What! has M. Cabrion been here?" inquired Rigolette, +repressing a violent desire to laugh.</p> + +<p>"What! has the monster been unchained on Alfred?" +said Madame Pipelet. "Oh, if I had been there with +my broom, he should have swallowed it, handle and all! +But tell us, Alfred, all about this horrid affair."</p> + +<p>M. Pipelet made signs with his hand that he was about +to speak, and they listened to the man with the bell-crowned +hat in religious silence, whilst he expressed +himself in these terms, and in a voice of deep emotion:</p> + +<p>"My wife had left me, to save me the trouble of going +out, according to the request of monsieur," bowing to +Rodolph, "to the mayor's, to church, and the cook-shop."</p> + +<p>"The dear old darling had had the nightmare all +night, and I wished to save him the journey," said +Anastasie.</p> + +<p>"This nightmare was sent me as a warning from +on high," responded the porter, religiously. "I had +dreamed of Cabrion, and I was to suffer from Cabrion. +Here was I sitting quietly in front of my table, reflecting +on an alteration which I wished to make in the upper +leather of this boot confided to my hands, when I heard +a noise, a rustling, at the window of my lodge,—was +it a presentiment, a warning from on high? My heart +beat, I lifted up my head, and, through the pane of glass, +I saw—I saw—"</p> + +<p>"Cabrion!" exclaimed Anastasie, clasping her hands.</p> + +<p>"Cabrion!" replied M. Pipelet, gloomily. "His hideous +face was there, pressed close against the window, +and he was looking at me with eyes like a cat's—what +do I say?—a tiger's! just as in my dream. I tried to +speak, but my tongue clave to my mouth; I tried to rise, +I was nailed to my seat. My boot fell from my hands, +and, as in all the critical and important events of my +life, I remained perfectly motionless. Then the key +turned in the lock, the door opened,—Cabrion entered!"</p> + +<p>"He entered? Owdacious monster!" replied Madame<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +Pipelet, as much astonished as her spouse at such +audacity.</p> + +<p>"He entered slowly," resumed Alfred, "stopped a +moment at the threshold, as if to fascinate me with his +look, atrocious as it was, then he advanced towards +me, pausing at each step, and piercing me through with +his eye, but not uttering a word,—straight, mute, and +threatening as a phantom!"</p> + +<p>"I declare, my very heart aches to hear him," said +Anastasie.</p> + +<p>"I remained still more motionless, and glued to my +chair; Cabrion still advanced slowly towards me, fixing +his eye as the serpent glares at the bird; he so frightened +me that, in spite of myself, I kept my eye on him; he +came close to me, and then I could no longer endure his +revolting aspect, it was too much, and I could not. I +shut my eyes, and then I felt that he dared to place his +hands upon my hat, which he took by the crown and +lifted gently off my head, leaving it bare. I began to be +seized with vertigo, my breathing was suspended, there +was a singing in my ears, and I was completely fastened +to my seat, and I closed my eyes still closer and closer. +Then Cabrion stooped, took my head between his hands, +which were as cold as death, and on my forehead, covered +with an icy damp, he deposited a brazen kiss, indecent +wretch!"</p> + +<p>Anastasie lifted her hands towards heaven.</p> + +<p>"My enemy, the most deadly, imprinted a kiss on my +forehead; such a monstrosity overcame and paralysed +me. Cabrion profited by my stupor to place my hat on +my head, and then, with a blow of his fist, drove it down +over my eyes, as you saw. This last outrage destroyed +me; the measure was full, all about me was turning +around, and I fainted at the moment when I saw him, +from under the rim of my hat, leave the lodge as quietly +and slowly as he had entered."</p> + +<p>Then, as if the recital had exhausted all his strength,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +M. Pipelet fell back in his chair, raising his hands to +heaven in a manner of mute imprecation. Rigolette +went out quickly; she could not restrain herself any +longer; her desire to laugh almost stifled her. Rodolph +had the greatest difficulty to keep his countenance.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a confused murmur, such as +announces the arrival of a mob, heard from the street, +and a great noise came from the door at the top of the +entrance, and then butts of grounded muskets were heard +on the steps of the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h5>THE ARREST.</h5> + + +<p>"Good gracious! M. Rodolph," exclaimed Rigolette, +running in, pale and trembling, "a commissary of police +and the guard have come here."</p> + +<p>"Divine justice watches over me," said M. Pipelet, in +a transport of pious gratitude. "They have come to +arrest Cabrion; unfortunately it is too late."</p> + +<p>A commissary of police, wearing his tricoloured scarf +around his waist underneath his black coat, entered the +lodge. His countenance was impressive, magisterial, and +serious.</p> + +<p>"M. le Commissaire is too late; the malefactor has +escaped," said M. Pipelet, in a sorrowful voice; "but I +will give you his description,—villainous smile, impudent +look, insulting—"</p> + +<p>"Of whom do you speak?" inquired the magistrate.</p> + +<p>"Of Cabrion, M. le Commissaire; but, perhaps, if you +make all haste, it is not yet too late to catch him," added +M. Pipelet.</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about any Cabrion," said the magistrate, +impatiently. "Does one Jérome Morel, a working +lapidary, live in this house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mon commissaire," said Madame Pipelet, putting +herself into a military attitude.</p> + +<p>"Conduct me to his apartment."</p> + +<p>"Morel, the lapidary!" said the porteress, excessively +surprised; "why, he is the mildest lambkin in the world. +He is incapable of—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Does Jérome Morel live here or not?"</p> + +<p>"He lives here, sir, with his family, in one of the +attics."</p> + +<p>"Lead me to his attic."</p> + +<p>Then, addressing himself to a man who accompanied +him, the magistrate said:</p> + +<p>"Let two of the municipal guard wait below, and not +leave the entrance. Send Justing for a hackney-coach."</p> + +<p>The man left the lodge to put these orders in execution.</p> + +<p>"Now," continued the magistrate, addressing himself +to M. Pipelet, "lead me to Morel."</p> + +<p>"If it is all the same to you, mon commissaire, I will +do that for Alfred; he is indisposed from Cabrion's +behaviour, which, just as the cabbage does, troubles his +pylorus."</p> + +<p>"You or your husband, it is no matter which. Go +forward."</p> + +<p>And, preceded by Madame Pipelet, he ascended the +staircase, but soon stopped when he saw Rodolph and +Rigolette following him.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, and what do you want?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"They are two lodgers in the fourth story," said +Madame Pipelet.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir, I did not know that you +belonged to the house," said he to Rodolph.</p> + +<p>The latter, auguring well from the polite behaviour of +the magistrate, said to him:</p> + +<p>"You are going to see a family in a state of deep +misery, sir. I do not know what fresh stroke of ill fortune +threatens this unhappy artisan, but he has been +cruelly tried last night,—one of his daughters, worn +down by illness, is dead before his eyes,—dead from +cold and misery."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed, the fact, mon commissaire," said +Madame Pipelet. "But for this gentleman who speaks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +to you, and who is a king of lodgers, for he has saved +poor Morel from prison by his generosity, the whole +family of the lapidary must have died of hunger."</p> + +<p>The commissary looked at Rodolph with equal surprise +and interest.</p> + +<p>"Nothing is more easily explained, sir," said Rodolph. +"A person who is very charitable, learning that Morel, +whose honour and honesty I will guarantee to you, was +in a most deplorable and unmerited state of distress, +authorised me to pay a bill of exchange for which the +bailiffs were about to drag off to prison this poor workman, +the sole support of his numerous family."</p> + +<p>The magistrate, in his turn, struck by the noble +physiognomy of Rodolph, as well as the dignity of his +manners, replied:</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt of Morel's probity. I only regret I +have to fulfil a painful duty in your presence, sir, who +have so deeply interested yourself in this family."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, sir?"</p> + +<p>"From the services you have rendered to the Morels, +and your language, I see, sir, that you are a worthy person. +Having, besides, no reason for concealing the object +of the warrant which I have to execute, I will confess +to you that I am about to apprehend Louise Morel, the +lapidary's daughter."</p> + +<p>The recollection of the rouleau of gold, offered to the +bailiffs by the young girl, occurred to Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Of what is she then accused?"</p> + +<p>"She lies under a charge of child-murder."</p> + +<p>"She! she! Oh, her poor father!"</p> + +<p>"From what you have told me, sir, I imagine that, +under the miserable circumstances in which this artisan +is, this fresh blow will be terrible for him. Unfortunately, +I must carry out the full instructions with which +I am charged."</p> + +<p>"But it is at present only an accusation?" asked +Rodolph. "Proofs, no doubt, are still wanting?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you more on that point. Justice has +been informed of this crime, or rather the presumptive +crime, by the statement of an individual most respectable +in every particular, Louise Morel's master."</p> + +<p>"Jacques Ferrand, the notary?" said Rodolph, with +indignation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir—"</p> + +<p>"M. Jacques Ferrand is a wretch, sir!"</p> + +<p>"I am pained to see that you do not know the person +of whom you speak, sir. M. Jacques Ferrand is one of +the most honourable men in the world; his rectitude is +universally recognised."</p> + +<p>"I repeat to you, sir, that this notary is a wretch. It +was he who sought to send Morel to prison because his +daughter repulsed his libidinous proposals. If Louise is +only accused on the denunciation of such a man, you +must own, sir, that the charge deserves but very little +credit."</p> + +<p>"It is not my affair, sir, and I am very glad of it, to +discuss the depositions of M. Ferrand," said the magistrate, +coldly. "Justice is informed in this matter, and +it is for a court of law to decide. As for me, I have +a warrant to apprehend Louise Morel, and that warrant +I must put into execution."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right, sir, and I regret that an impulse +of feeling, however just, should have made me forget for +a moment that this was neither the time nor the place +for such a discussion. One word only: the corpse of +the child which Morel has lost is still in the attic, and I +have offered my apartments to the family to spare them +the sad spectacle of the dead body. You will, therefore, +find the lapidary, and possibly his daughter, in my rooms. +I entreat you, sir, in the name of humanity, do not apprehend +Louise abruptly in the midst of the unhappy family +only a short time since snatched from their state of utter +wretchedness. Morel has had so many shocks during +this night that it is really to be feared his reason may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +sink under it; already his wife is dangerously ill, and +such a blow would kill him."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I have always executed my orders with +every possible consideration, and I shall act similarly +now."</p> + +<p>"Will you allow me, sir, to ask you one favour? It +is this: the young female who is following us occupies +an apartment close to mine, which, I have no doubt, she +would place at your disposal. You could, in the first +instance, send for Louise, and, if necessary, for Morel +afterwards, that his daughter may take leave of him. +You will thus save a poor sick and infirm mother from +a very distressing scene."</p> + +<p>"Most willingly, sir, if it can be so arranged."</p> + +<p>The conversation we have just described was carried +on in an undertone, whilst Rigolette and Madame Pipelet +kept away discreetly a few steps' distance from the +commissary and Rodolph. The latter then went to +the grisette, whom the presence of the commissary had +greatly affrighted, and said to her:</p> + +<p>"My good little neighbour, I want another service +from you,—I want you to leave your room at my +disposal for the next hour."</p> + +<p>"As long as you please, M. Rodolph. You have the +key. But, oh, say what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you all by and by. But I want something +more; you must return to the Temple, and tell them not +to bring our purchases here for the next hour."</p> + +<p>"To be sure I will, M. Rodolph; but has any fresh +misfortune befallen the Morels?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! yes, something very sad indeed, which you +will learn but too soon."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, neighbour, I will run to the Temple. +Alas, alas! I was thinking that, thanks to your kindness, +these poor people had been quite relieved from +their trouble!" said the grisette, who then descended +the staircase very quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rodolph had been very desirous of sparing Rigolette +the distressing scene of Louise Morel's arrest.</p> + +<p>"Mon commissaire," said Madame Pipelet, "since my +king of lodgers will direct you, I may return to my +Alfred. I am uneasy about him, for when I left him +he had hardly recovered from his indisposition which +Cabrion had caused."</p> + +<p>"Go, go," said the magistrate, who was thus left +alone with Rodolph.</p> + +<p>They both ascended to the landing-place on the fourth +story, at the door of the chamber in which the lapidary +and his family had been temporarily established.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the door opened. Louise, pale and in tears, +came out quickly.</p> + +<p>"Adieu, adieu, father!" she exclaimed. "I will come +back again, but I must go now."</p> + +<p>"Louise, my child, listen to me a moment," said +Morel, following his daughter, and endeavouring to +detain her.</p> + +<p>At the sight of Rodolph and the magistrate, Louise +and the lapidary remained motionless.</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir, you, our kind benefactor!" said the artisan, +recognising Rodolph, "assist me in preventing Louise +from leaving us. I do not know what is the matter +with her, but she quite frightens me, she is so determined +to go. Now there is no occasion for her to return +to her master, is there, sir? Did you not say to me, +'Louise shall not again leave you, and that will recompense +you for much that you have suffered?' Ah! at +that kind promise, I confess that for a moment I had +forgot the death of my poor little Adèle; but I must not +again be separated from thee, Louise, oh, never, never!"</p> + +<p>Rodolph was wounded to the heart, and was unable to +utter a word in reply.</p> + +<p>The commissary said sternly to Louise:</p> + +<p>"Is your name Louise Morel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied the young girl, quite overcome.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are Jérome Morel, her father?" added the +magistrate, addressing the lapidary.</p> + +<p>Rodolph had opened the door of Rigolette's apartment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; but—"</p> + +<p>"Go in there with your daughter."</p> + +<p>And the magistrate pointed to Rigolette's chamber, +into which Rodolph had already entered.</p> + +<p>Reassured by his preserver, the lapidary and Louise, +astonished and uneasy, did as the commissary desired +them.</p> + +<p>The commissary shut the door, and said with much +feeling to Morel:</p> + +<p>"I know that you are honest and unfortunate, and it +is, therefore, with regret that I tell you that I am here +in the name of the law to apprehend your daughter."</p> + +<p>"All is discovered,—I am lost!" cried Louise, in +agony, and throwing herself into her father's arms.</p> + +<p>"What do you say? What do you say?" inquired +Morel, stupefied. "You are mad! What do you mean +by lost? Apprehend you! Why apprehend you? Who +has come to apprehend you?"</p> + +<p>"I, and in the name of the law;" and the commissary +showed his scarf.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wretched, wretched girl!" exclaimed Louise, +falling on her knees.</p> + +<p>"What! in the name of the law?" said the artisan, +whose reason, severely shaken by this fresh blow, began +to totter. "Why apprehend my daughter in the name +of the law? I will answer for Louise, I will,—this my +child, my good child, ain't you, Louise? What! apprehend +you, when our good angel has restored you to us to +console us for the death of our poor, dear little Adèle? +Come, come, this can't be. And then, to speak respectfully, +M. le Commissaire, they apprehend none but the +bad, you know; and my Louise is not bad. So you see, +my dear, the good gentleman is mistaken. My name +is Morel, but there are other Morels; you are Louise, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +there are other Louises; so you see, M. le Commissaire, +there is a mistake, certainly some mistake!"</p> + +<p>"Unhappily there is no mistake. Louise Morel, take +leave of your father!"</p> + +<p>"What! are you going to take my daughter away?" +exclaimed the workman, furious with grief, and advancing +towards the magistrate with a menacing air.</p> + +<p>Rodolph seized the lapidary by the arm, and said to +him:</p> + +<p>"Be calm, and hope for the best; your daughter will +be restored to you; her innocence must be proved; she +cannot be guilty."</p> + +<p>"Guilty of what? She is not guilty of anything. I +will put my hand in the fire if—" Then, remembering +the gold which Louise had brought to pay the bill with, +Morel cried, "But the money—that money you had this +morning, Louise!" And he gave his daughter a terrible +look.</p> + +<p>Louise understood it.</p> + +<p>"I rob!" she exclaimed; and her cheeks suffused +with generous indignation, her tone and gesture, reassured +her father.</p> + +<p>"I knew it well enough!" he exclaimed. "You see, +M. le Commissaire, she denies it; and I swear to you, +that she never told me a lie in her life; and everybody +that knows her will say the same thing as I do. +She lie! Oh, no, she is too proud to do that! And, then, +the bill has been paid by our benefactor. The gold she +does not wish to keep, but will return it to the person +who lent it to her, desiring him not to tell any one; +won't you, Louise?"</p> + +<p>"Your daughter is not accused of theft," said the +magistrate.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what is the charge against her? I, her +father, swear to you that she is innocent of whatever +crime they may accuse her of, and I never told a lie in +my life either."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why should you know what she is charged with?" +said Rodolph, moved by his distress. "Louise's innocence +will be proved; the person who takes so great an +interest in you will protect your daughter. Come, come! +Courage, courage! This time Providence will not forsake +you. Embrace your daughter, and you will soon see her +again."</p> + +<p>"M. le Commissaire," cried Morel, not attending to +Rodolph, "you are going to deprive a father of his +daughter without even naming the crime of which she +is accused! Let me know all! Louise, why don't you +speak?"</p> + +<p>"Your daughter is accused of child-murder," said the +magistrate.</p> + +<p>"I—I—I—child-mur—I don't—you—"</p> + +<p>And Morel, aghast, stammered incoherently.</p> + +<p>"Your daughter is accused of having killed her child," +said the commissary, deeply touched at this scene; "but +it is not yet proved that she has committed this crime."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I have not, sir! I have not!" exclaimed +Louise, energetically, and rising; "I swear to you that +it was dead. It never breathed,—it was cold. I lost +my senses,—this is my crime. But kill my child! Oh, +never, never!"</p> + +<p>"Your child, abandoned girl!" cried Morel, raising +his hands towards Louise, as if he would annihilate her +by this gesture and imprecation.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, father, pardon!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>After a moment's fearful silence, Morel resumed, with +a calm that was even more frightful:</p> + +<p>"M. le Commissaire, take away that creature; she is +not my child!"</p> + +<p>The lapidary turned to leave the room; but Louise +threw herself at his knees, around which she clung with +both arms; and, with her head thrown back, distracted +and supplicating, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Father, hear me! Only hear me!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"M. le Commissaire, away with her, I beseech you! I +leave her to you," said the lapidary, struggling to free +himself from Louise's embrace.</p> + +<p>"Listen to her," said Rodolph, holding him; "do not +be so pitiless."</p> + +<p>"To her! To her!" repeated Morel, lifting his two +hands to his forehead, "to a dishonoured wretch! A +wanton! Oh, a wanton!"</p> + +<p>"But, if she were dishonoured through her efforts to +save you?" said Rodolph to him in a low voice.</p> + +<p>These words made a sudden and painful impression +on Morel, and he cast his eyes on his weeping child still +on her knees before him; then, with a searching look, +impossible to describe, he cried in a hollow voice, +clenching his teeth with rage:</p> + +<p>"The notary?"</p> + +<p>An answer came to Louise's lips. She was about to +speak, but paused,—no doubt a reflection,—and, bending +down her head, remained silent.</p> + +<p>"No, no; he sought to imprison me this morning!" +continued Morel, with a violent burst. "Can it be he? +Ah, so much the better, so much the better! She has +not even an excuse for her crime; she never thought +of me in her dishonour, and I may curse her without +remorse."</p> + +<p>"No, no; do not curse me, my father! I will tell you +all,—to you alone, and you will see—you will see +whether or not I deserve your forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"For pity's sake, hear her!" said Rodolph to him.</p> + +<p>"What will she tell me,—her infamy? That will +soon be public, and I can wait till then."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Louise, addressing the magistrate, "for +pity's sake, leave me alone with my father, that I may +say a few words to him before I leave him, perhaps for +ever; and before you, also, our benefactor, I will speak; +but only before you and my father."</p> + +<p>"Be it so," said the magistrate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you be pitiless, and refuse this last consolation +to your child?" asked Rodolph of Morel. "If you think +you owe me any gratitude for the kindness which I have +been enabled to show you, consent to your daughter's +entreaties."</p> + +<p>After a moment's sad and angry silence, Morel +replied:</p> + +<p>"I will."</p> + +<p>"But where shall we go!" inquired Rodolph; "your +family are in the other room."</p> + +<p>"Where shall we go," exclaimed the lapidary, with a +bitter irony, "where shall we go? Up above,—up above, +into the garret, by the side of the body of my dead +daughter; that spot will well suit a confession, will it +not? Come along, come, and we will see if Louise will +dare to tell a lie in the presence of her sister's corpse. +Come! Come along!"</p> + +<p>And Morel went out hastily with a wild air, and +turning his face from Louise.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the commissary to Rodolph, in an undertone, +"I beg you for this poor man's sake not to protract +this conversation. You were right when you said his +reason was touched; just now his look was that of a +madman."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir, I am equally fearful with yourself of some +fresh and terrible disaster! I will abridge as much as +I can this most painful farewell."</p> + +<p>And Rodolph rejoined the lapidary and his daughter.</p> + +<p>However strange and painful Morel's determination +might appear, it was really the only thing that, under +the circumstances, could be done. The magistrate +consented to await the issue of this conversation in +Rigolette's chamber; the Morel family were occupying +Rodolph's apartment, and there was only the garret at +liberty; and it was into this horrid retreat that Louise, +her father, and Rodolph betook themselves. Sad and +affecting sight!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the middle of the attic which we have already +described, there lay, stretched on the idiot's mattress, +the body of the little girl who had died in the morning, +now covered by a ragged cloth. The unusual and clear +light, reflected through the narrow skylight, threw the +figures of the three actors in this scene into bold relief. +Rodolph, standing up, was leaning with his back against +the wall, deeply moved. Morel, seated at the edge of +his working-bench, with his head bent, his hands hanging +listless by his sides, whilst his gaze, fixed and fierce, +rested on, and did not quit, the mattress on which the +remains of his poor little Adèle were deposited. At this +spectacle, the anger and indignation of the lapidary subsided, +and were changed to inexpressible bitterness; his +energy left him, and he was utterly prostrated beneath +this fresh blow. Louise, who was ghastly pale, felt her +strength forsake her. The revelation she was about to +make terrified her. Still she ventured, tremblingly, to +take her father's hand,—that miserable and shrivelled +hand, withered and wasted by excess of toil. The lapidary +did not withdraw it, and then his daughter, sobbing +as if her heart would burst, covered it with kisses, and +felt it slightly pressed against her lips. Morel's wrath +had ended, and then his tears, long repressed, flowed +freely and bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, if you only knew!" exclaimed Louise; +"if you only knew how much I am to be pitied!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louise, this, this will be the heaviest bitter in +my cup for the rest of my life,—all my life long," +replied the lapidary, weeping terribly. "You, you in +prison,—in the same bench with criminals; you so +proud when you had a right to be proud! No," he +resumed in a fresh burst of grief and despair, "no; I +would rather have seen you in your shroud beside your +poor little sister!"</p> + +<p>"And I, I would sooner be there!" replied Louise.</p> + +<p>"Be silent, unhappy girl, you pain me. I was wrong<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +to say so; I have been too harsh. Come, speak; but in +the name of Heaven, do not lie. However frightful the +truth may be, yet tell it me all; let me learn it from +your lips, and it will be less cruel. Speak, for, alas! +our moments are counted, they are waiting for you down +below. Ah, just Heaven, what a sad, sad parting!"</p> + +<p>"My father, I will tell you all,—everything," replied +Louise, taking courage; "but promise me—and our kind +benefactor must promise me also—not to repeat this to +any person,—to any person. If he knew that I had +told!—oh," and she shuddered as she spoke, "you +would be destroyed, destroyed as I am; for you know +not the power and ferocity of this man."</p> + +<p>"What man?"</p> + +<p>"My master!"</p> + +<p>"The notary?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Louise in a whisper, and looking around +her as if she feared to be overheard.</p> + +<p>"Take courage," said Rodolph; "no matter how cruel +and powerful this man may be, we will defeat him! +Besides, if I reveal what you are about to tell us, it +would only be in the interest of yourself or your father."</p> + +<p>"And me too, Louise, if I speak, it would be in +endeavouring to save you. But what has this villain +done?"</p> + +<p>"This is not all," said Louise, after a moment's +reflection; "in this recital there will be a person +implicated who has rendered me a great service, who +has shown the utmost kindness to my father and family; +this person was in the employ of M. Ferrand when I +entered his service, and he made me take an oath not to +disclose his name."</p> + +<p>Rodolph, believing that she referred to Germain, said +to Louise:</p> + +<p>"If you mean François Germain, make your mind +tranquil, his secret shall be kept by your father and +myself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>Louise looked at Rodolph with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Do you know him?" said she.</p> + +<p>"What! was the good, excellent young man, who +lived here for three months, employed at the notary's +when you went to his service?" said Morel. "The first +time you met him here, you appeared as if you had +never seen him before."</p> + +<p>"It was agreed between us, father; he had serious +reasons why he did not wish it known that he was +working at M. Ferrand's. It was I who told him of +the room to let on the fourth story here, knowing that +he would be a good neighbour for you."</p> + +<p>"But," inquired Rodolph, "who, then, placed your +daughter at the notary's?"</p> + +<p>"During the illness of my wife, I said to Madame +Burette—the woman who advanced money on pledges, +who lived in this house—that Louise wished to get into +service in order to assist us. Madame Burette knew the +notary's housekeeper, and gave me a letter to her, in +which she recommended Louise as a very good girl. +Cursed letter! it was the cause of all our misfortune. +This was the way, sir, that my daughter got into the +notary's service."</p> + +<p>"Although I know some of the causes which excited +M. Ferrand's hatred against your father," said Rodolph +to Louise, "I beg you to tell me as shortly as possible +what passed between you and the notary after your +entering into his service; it may, perhaps, be useful for +your defence."</p> + +<p>"When I first went into M. Ferrand's house," said +Louise, "I had nothing to complain of with respect to +him. I had a great deal to do, and the housekeeper +often scolded me, and the house was very dull; but I +endured everything very patiently. Service is service, +and, perhaps, elsewhere I should have other disagreeables. +M. Ferrand was a very stern-looking person; he +went to mass, and frequently had priests in his house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +I did not at all distrust him; for at first he hardly ever +looked at me, spoke short and cross, especially when +there were any strangers. Except the porter who lived +at the entrance, in the same part of the house as the +office is in, I was the only servant, with Madame +Séraphin, the housekeeper. The pavilion that we +occupied was isolated between the court and the garden. +My bedroom was high up. I was often afraid, +being, as I was, always alone, either in the kitchen, +which is underground, or in my bedroom. One day I +had worked very late mending some things that were +required in a hurry, and then I was going to bed, when +I heard footsteps moving quietly in the little passage at +the end of which my room was situated; some one +stopped at my door. At first I supposed it was the +housekeeper; but, as no one entered, I began to be +alarmed. I dared not move, but I listened; however, +I heard no one; yet I was sure that there was some one +behind my door. I asked twice who was there, but no +one answered; I then pushed my chest of drawers against +the door, which had neither lock nor bolt. I still listened, +but nothing stirred; so at the end of half an hour, which +seemed very long to me, I threw myself on my bed, and +the night passed quietly. The next morning I asked +the housekeeper's leave to have a bolt put on my door, +which had no fastening, telling her of my fright on the +previous night, and she told me I had been dreaming, +and that, if I wanted a bolt, I must ask M. Ferrand +for it. When I asked him, he shrugged up his shoulders, +and said I was crazy; so I did not dare say any more +about it. Some time after this, the misfortune about +the diamond happened. My father in his despair did +not know what to do. I told Madame Séraphin of his +distress, and she replied; 'Monsieur is so charitable, +perhaps he will do something for your father.' The +same afternoon, when I was waiting at table, M. Ferrand +said to me, suddenly, 'Your father is in want of thirteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +hundred francs; go and tell him to come to my +office this evening, and he shall have the money.' At +this mark of kindness I burst into tears, and did not +know how to thank him, when he said, with his usual +bluntness, 'Very good, very good; oh, what I do is +nothing!' The same evening, after my work, I came to +my father to tell him the good news; the next day—"</p> + +<p>"I had the thirteen hundred francs, giving him my +acceptance in blank at three months' date," said Morel. +"I did like Louise, and wept with gratitude, called this +man my benefactor. Oh, what a wretch must he be thus +to destroy the gratitude and veneration I entertained for +him!"</p> + +<p>"This precaution of making you give him a blank +acceptance, at a date falling due so soon that you could not +meet it, must have raised your suspicion?" said Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I only thought the notary took it for security, +that was all; besides, he told me that I need not think +about repaying this sum in less than two years; but that, +every three months, the bill should be renewed for the +sake of greater regularity. It was, however, duly presented +here on the day it became due, but, as you may +suppose, was not paid. The usual course of law was followed +up, and judgment was obtained against me in the +name of a third party. All this I was desired not to +feel any uneasiness respecting, as it had been caused by +an error on the part of the officer in whose hands the +bill had been placed."</p> + +<p>"His motive is very evident," said Rodolph; "he +wished to have you entirely in his power."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir, it was from the very day in which he +obtained judgment that he commenced! But, go on, +Louise, go on. I scarcely know where I am. My head +seems giddy and bewildered, and at times my memory +entirely fails me. I fear my senses are leaving me, and +that I shall become mad. Oh, this is too much—too +hard to bear!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rodolph having succeeded in tranquillising the lapidary, +Louise thus proceeded:</p> + +<p>"With a view to prove my gratitude to M. Ferrand +for all his kindness towards my family, I redoubled my +endeavours to serve him well and faithfully. From that +time the housekeeper appeared to take an utter aversion +to me, and to embrace every opportunity of rendering +me uncomfortable, continually exposing me to anger +by withholding from me the various orders given by +M. Ferrand. All this made me extremely miserable, and +I would gladly have sought another place; but the +knowledge of my father's pecuniary obligation to my +master prevented my following my inclinations.</p> + +<p>"The money had now been lent about three months, +and, though M. Ferrand still continued harsh and unkind +to me in the presence of Madame Séraphin, he began +casting looks of a peculiar and embarrassing description +at me whenever he could do so unobserved, and would +smile and seem amused when he perceived the confusion +it occasioned me."</p> + +<p>"Take notice, I beg, sir, that it was at this very time +the necessary legal proceedings, for enabling him at any +moment to deprive me of my liberty, were going on."</p> + +<p>"One day," said Louise, in continuation, "the housekeeper +went out directly after dinner, contrary to her +usual custom; the clerks, none of whom lived in the +house, were dismissed from further duty for the day, +and retired to their respective homes; the porter was +sent out on a message, leaving M. Ferrand and myself +alone in the house. I was doing some needlework +Madame Séraphin had given me, and by her orders +was sitting in a small antechamber, from whence I +could hear if I was wanted. After some time the +bell of my master's bedroom rang; I went there immediately, +and upon entering found him standing before +the fire. As I approached he turned around suddenly +and caught me in his arms. Alarm and surprise at first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +deprived me of power to move; but, spite of his great +strength, I at last struggled so successfully, that I +managed to free myself from his grasp, and, running +back with all speed to the room I had just quitted, I +hastily shut the door, and held it with all my force. +Unfortunately, the key was on the other side."</p> + +<p>"You hear, sir,—you hear," said Morel to Rodolph, +"the manner in which this generous benefactor behaved +to the daughter of the man he affected to serve!"</p> + +<p>"At the end of a few minutes," continued Louise, +"the door yielded to the efforts of M. Ferrand. Fortunately, +the lamp by which I had been working was +within my reach, and I precipitately extinguished it. +The antechamber was at some distance from his bedchamber, +and we were, therefore, left in utter darkness. +At first he called me by name; but, finding that I did +not reply, he exclaimed, in a voice trembling with rage +and passion, 'If you try to escape from me, your father +shall go to prison for the thirteen hundred francs he +owes, and is unable to pay.' I besought him to have +pity on me, promised to do all in my power to serve +him faithfully, and with gratitude for all his goodness +to my family, but declared that no consideration on +earth should induce me to disgrace myself or those I +belonged to."</p> + +<p>"There spoke my Louise," said Morel, "or, rather, as +she would have spoken in her days of proud innocence. +How, then, if such were your sentiments—But go on, +go on."</p> + +<p>"I was still concealed by the darkness, which I +trusted would preserve me, when I heard the door +closed which led from the antechamber, and which +my master had contrived to find by groping along +the wall. Thus, having me wholly in his power, he +returned to his chamber for a light, with which he +quickly returned, and then commenced a fresh attack, +the particulars of which, my dearest father, I will not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +venture to describe; suffice it, that promises, threats, +violence, all were tried; but anger, fear, and despair +armed me with fresh strength, and, while I continually +eluded his grasp, and fled for safety from room to room, +his rage at my determined resistance knew no bounds. +In his fury he even struck me with such frenzied violence +as to leave my features streaming with blood."</p> + +<p>"You hear! you hear!" exclaimed the lapidary, +raising his clasped hands towards heaven, "and are +crimes like this to go unpunished? Shall such a +monster escape and not pay a heavy penalty for his +wickedness?"</p> + +<p>"Trust me," said Rodolph, who seemed profoundly +meditating on what he heard, "trust me, this man's +time and hour will come. But continue your painful +narration, my poor girl, and shrink not from telling us +even its blackest details."</p> + +<p>"The struggle between us had now gone on so long +that my strength began to fail me. I was conscious of +my own inability to resist further, when the porter, who +had returned home, rang the bell twice,—the usual signal +when letters arrived and required to be fetched from +his hands. Fearing that, if I did not obey the summons, +the porter would bring the letters himself, M. Ferrand +said, 'Go; utter but one word, and to-morrow sees your +father in prison. If you endeavour to quit this house, +the consequences will fall on him; and, as for you, I +will take care no one shall take you into their house, +for, without exactly affirming it, I will contrive to make +every one think you have robbed me. Then, should any +person refer to me for your character, I shall speak of +you as an idle, unworthy girl whom I could keep no +longer.'</p> + +<p>"The following day after this scene, spite of the +menaces of my master, I ran home to complain to my +father of the unkind usage I received, without daring, +however, to tell him all. His first desire was for me to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +quit the house of M. Ferrand without delay. But, then, +a prison would close upon my poor parent; added to +which, my small earnings had become indispensably +necessary to our family since the illness of my mother, +and the bad character promised me by M. Ferrand +might possibly have prevented me from finding another +service for a very long time."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Morel, with gloomy bitterness, "we were +selfish and cowardly enough to allow our poor child to +return to that accursed roof. Oh, I spoke truly when I +said, 'Want, want, what mean, what degrading acts do +you not force us to commit!'"</p> + +<p>"Alas, dear father, did you not try by every possible +means to procure these thirteen hundred francs? And, +that being impossible, there was nothing left but to +submit ourselves to our fate."</p> + +<p>"Go on, go on; your parents have been your executioners, +and we are far more guilty than yourself of all +the fearful consequences!" exclaimed the lapidary, concealing +his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"When I next saw my master," said Louise, "he had +resumed the harsh and severe manner with which he ordinarily +treated me. He made not the slightest reference +to the scene I have just related, while his housekeeper +persisted in her accustomed tormenting and unkind behaviour +towards me, giving me scarcely sufficient food +to maintain my strength, and even locking the bread up +so that I could not help myself to a morsel; she would +even carry her cruelty so far as to wilfully spoil and +damage the morsels left by herself and M. Ferrand for +my repasts, I always taking my meals after my master +and the housekeeper, who invariably sat down to table together. +My nights were as painful as my days. I durst +not indulge in sleep, lest I should be surprised by the entrance +of the notary. I had no means of securing my +chamber door, and the chest of drawers with which I +used to fasten myself in had been taken away, leaving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +me only a small table, a chair, and my box. With these +articles I barricaded the door as well as I could, and +merely lay down in my clothes, ready to start up at the +least noise. Some time elapsed, however, without my +having any further alarm as regarded M. Ferrand, who +seemed to have altogether forgotten me, and seldom bestowed +even a look on me. By degrees my fears died +away, and I became almost persuaded I had nothing +more to dread from the persecutions of my master. One +Sunday I had permission to visit my home, and with +extreme delight hastened to announce the happy change +that had taken place to my parents. Oh, how we all +rejoiced to think so! Up to that moment, my dear +father, you know all that occurred. What I have still +to tell you," murmured Louise, as her voice sunk into +an inarticulate whisper, "is so dreadful that I have never +dared reveal it."</p> + +<p>"I was sure, ah, too sure," cried Morel, with a wildness +of manner and rapidity of utterance which startled +and alarmed Rodolph, "that you were hiding something +from me. Too plainly did I perceive, by your pale and +altered countenance, that your mind was burthened with +some heavy secret. Many a time have I said so to your +mother; but she, poor thing! would not listen to me, +and even blamed me for making myself unnecessarily +miserable. So you see, that weakly, and selfish to escape +from trouble ourselves, we allowed our poor, helpless +child to remain under this monster's roof. And to what +have we reduced our poor girl? Why, to be classed with +the felons and criminals of a prison! See, see what +comes of parents sacrificing their children. And, then, +too, be it remembered—after all—who knows? True, +we are poor—very poor, and may be guilty—yes, yes, +quite right, guilty of throwing our daughter into shame +and disgrace. But, then, see how wretched and distressed +we were! Besides, such as we—" Then, as if suddenly +striving to collect his bewildered ideas, Morel struck his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +forehead, exclaiming, "Alas! I know not what I say. +My brain burns and my senses seem deserting me. A +sort of bewilderment seems to come over me as though I +were stupefied with drink. Alas, alas! I am going mad!" +So saying, the unhappy man buried his face between his +hands.</p> + +<p>Unwilling that Louise should perceive the extent of +his apprehensions as regarded the agitated state of the +lapidary, and how much alarm he felt at his wild, incoherent +language, Rodolph gravely replied:</p> + +<p>"You are unjust, Morel; it was not for herself alone, +but for her aged and afflicted parent, her children, and +you, that your poor wife dreaded the consequences of +Louise's quitting the notary's house. Accuse no one; +but let all your just anger, your bitter curses, fall on the +head that alone deserves it,—on that hypocritical monster +who offered a weak and helpless girl the alternative +of infamy or ruin; perhaps destruction; perhaps death +to those she most tenderly loved,—on the fiend who +could thus abuse the power he held, thus prey upon the +tenderest, holiest feelings of a loving daughter, thus +shamelessly outrage every moral and religious duty. +But patience; as I before remarked, Providence frequently +reserves for crimes so black as this a fearful and +astounding retribution."</p> + +<p>As Rodolph uttered these words, he spoke with a tone +so expressive of his own conviction of the certain vengeance +of Heaven, that Louise gazed at her preserver +with a surprise not unmingled with fear.</p> + +<p>"Go on, my poor girl," resumed Rodolph, addressing +Louise; "conceal nothing from us: it is more important +than you can be aware that you should relate the most +minute details of your sad story."</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Louise proceeded:</p> + +<p>"I began, therefore, as I told you, to regain my tranquillity, +when one evening both M. Ferrand and his +housekeeper went out. They did not dine at home. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +was quite alone in the house. As usual, my allowance of +bread, wine, and water was left for me, and every place +carefully locked. When I had finished my work, I took +the food placed for me, and, having made my meal, I +retired to my bedroom, thinking it less dull than remaining +down-stairs by myself. I took care to leave a light +in the hall for my master, as when he dined out no one +ever sat up for him. Once in my chamber, I seated +myself and commenced my sewing; but, contrary to my +usual custom, I found the greatest difficulty in keeping +myself awake. A heavy drowsiness seemed to steal +over, and a weight like lead seemed to press on my eyelids. +Alas, dear father!" cried Louise, interrupting +herself as though frightened at her own recital, "I feel +sure you will not credit what I am about to say, you will +believe I am uttering falsehoods; and yet, here, over the +lifeless body of my poor little sister, I swear to the truth +of each word I speak."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself, my good girl," said Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir," answered Louise, "you ask me to do +that I have been vainly trying to accomplish during the +last seven months. In vain have I racked my brains to +endeavour to account for the events of that fatal night. +Sometimes I have almost grown distracted while trying +to clear up this fearful and mysterious occurrence."</p> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed the lapidary, suddenly +rousing from one of those fits of almost apathetic stupor +into which he had occasionally fallen from the very commencement +of this narration, "what dreadful thing is +she going to tell us?"</p> + +<p>"This lethargic feeling," continued Louise, "so completely +overpowered me, that, unable any longer to resist +it, I at length, contrary to my usual custom, fell +asleep upon my chair. This is all I recollect before—before—Oh, +forgive me, father, forgive me! indeed, +indeed, I am not guilty; yet—"</p> + +<p>"I believe you—I believe you; but proceed."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know not how long I slept; but when I awoke it +was to shame and dishonour, for I found M. Ferrand +beside me."</p> + +<p>"'Tis false! 'tis false!" screamed the lapidary, in a +tone of frenzied violence. "Confess that you yielded +to violence or to the dread of seeing me dragged to +prison, but do not seek to impose on me by falsehoods +such as this."</p> + +<p>"Father! father! I call Heaven to witness I am telling +you the truth only."</p> + +<p>"I tell you 'tis a base falsehood. Why should the +notary have wished to throw me in prison, since you had +freely yielded to his wishes?"</p> + +<p>"Yielded! Oh, no, dear father, I would have died +first! So deep was my sleep that it resembled that of +death. It may seem to you both extraordinary and +impossible, and I assure you that, up to the present +hour, I myself have never been able to understand it or +account for it—"</p> + +<p>"But I can do so at once," said Rodolph, interrupting +Louise. "This crime alone was wanting to complete +the heavy calendar of that man's offences. Accuse not +your daughter, Morel, of seeking to deceive you. Tell +me, Louise, when you made your meal, before ascending +to your chamber, did you not remark something peculiar +in the taste of the wine given you to drink? Try and +recollect this circumstance."</p> + +<p>After reflecting a short time, Louise replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do indeed remember," answered she, "that +the wine and water left for me as usual had a somewhat +bitter taste; but I did not pay much attention to it, +because the housekeeper would frequently, when spitefully +inclined, amuse herself with throwing salt or +pepper into what I drank."</p> + +<p>"But, on the day you were describing, your wine had +a bitter taste?"</p> + +<p>"It had, sir, but not sufficiently so to prevent my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +drinking it; and I attributed it to the wine being +turned."</p> + +<p>Morel, with fixed eye and haggard look, listened both +to the questions of Rodolph and the answers of Louise +without appearing to understand to what they tended.</p> + +<p>"And before falling asleep on your chair, did not your +head seem unusually heavy, and your limbs weary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, sir, I felt a fullness and throbbing in my +temples, an icy coldness seemed to fill my veins, and a +feeling of unusual discomfort oppressed me."</p> + +<p>"Wretch, villainous wretch!" exclaimed Rodolph. +"Are you aware, Morel, what this man made your poor +child take in her wine?"</p> + +<p>The artisan gazed at Rodolph without replying to his +question.</p> + +<p>"His accomplice, the housekeeper, had mingled in +Louise's drink some sort of stupefying drug, most probably +opium, by which means both the bodily and mental +powers of your unfortunate daughter were completely +paralysed for several hours; and when she awoke from +this lethargic state it was to find herself dishonoured +and disgraced."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now," exclaimed Louise, "my misfortune is +explained. You see, dear father, I am less guilty than +you thought me. Father! dear, dear father! look upon +me, bestow one little look of pity and of pardon on your +poor Louise!"</p> + +<p>But the glance of the lapidary was fixed and vacant; +his honest mind could not comprehend the idea of so +black, so monstrous a crime as that ascribed to the +notary, and he gazed with blank wonder at the words he +heard, as though quite unable to affix any meaning to +them. And besides, during the latter part of the discourse, +his intellect became evidently shaken, his ideas +became a shapeless, confused mass of wandering recollections; +a mere chaotic mass of griefs and sorrows +possessed his brain, and he sank into a state of mental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +prostration, which is to intellect what darkness is to the +sight,—the formidable symptoms of a weakened brain. +After a pause of some length, Morel replied, in a low, +hasty tone:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; it is bad, very, very bad; cannot be +worse!" and then relapsed into his former apathy; +while Rodolph, watching him with pained attention, +perceived that the energy, even of indignation, was +becoming exhausted within the mind of the miserable +father, in the same manner as excess of grief will frequently +dry up the relief of tears. Anxious to put an +end as quickly as possible to the present trying scene, +Rodolph said to Louise:</p> + +<p>"Proceed, my poor child, and let us have the +remainder of this tissue of horrors."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir! what you have heard is as nothing to +that which follows. When I perceived M. Ferrand by +my side I uttered a cry of terror. My first impulse was +to rush from the room, but M. Ferrand forcibly detained +me; and I still felt so weak, so stupefied with the medicine +you speak of as having been mingled in my drink, +that I was powerless as an infant. 'Why do you wish +to escape from me now?' inquired M. Ferrand, with an +air of surprise which filled me with dread. 'What fresh +caprice is this? Am I not here by your own free will +and consent?' 'Oh, sir!' exclaimed I, 'this is most +shameful and unworthy, to take advantage of my sleep +to work my ruin; but my father shall know all!' Here +my master interrupted me by bursting into loud laughter. +'Upon my word, young lady,' said he, 'you are very +amusing. So you are going to say that I availed myself +of your being asleep to effect your undoing. But who +do you suppose will credit such a falsehood? It is now +four in the morning, and since ten o'clock last night I +have been here. You must have slept long and soundly +not to have discovered my presence sooner. Come, come, +no more attempts at shyness, but confess the truth, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +I came hither with your perfect good-will and consent. +You must be less capricious or we shall not keep good +friends, I fear. Your father is in my power. You have +no longer any cause to fly me. Be obedient to my wishes +and we shall do very well together; but resist me, and +the consequences shall fall heavily on you, and your +family likewise.' 'I will tell my dear father of your conduct,' +sobbed I; 'he will avenge me, and the laws will +punish you.' M. Ferrand looked at me as though at a +loss to comprehend me. 'Why, you have lost your +senses,' cried he; 'what, in Heaven's name, can you tell +your father? That you thought proper to invite me to +your bedroom? But, invent any tale you please, you +will soon find what sort of a reception it will meet with. +Why, your father will not look at you, much more +believe you.' 'But you know,' cried I, 'you well know, +sir, I gave no permission for your being here. You are +well aware you entered my chamber without my knowledge, +and are now here against my will.' 'Against your +will! And is it possible you have the effrontery to utter +such a falsehood, to dare insinuate that I have employed +force to gain my ends? Do you wish to be convinced of +the folly of such an imputation? Why, by my orders, +Germain, my cashier, returned here last night at ten +o'clock to complete some very important papers, and +until one o'clock this morning he was writing in the +chamber directly under yours; would he not then have +been sure to have heard the slightest sound, much less +the repetition of such a struggle as we had together a +little while ago, my saucy little beauty, when you were +not quite in as complying a humour as I found you in +last evening? Germain must have heard you during +the stillness of the night had you but called for assistance. +Ask him, when you see him, whether any such +sound occurred; he will tell you no, and that he worked +on uninterruptedly during the very hours you are accusing +me of forcibly entering your bedchamber.'"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Rodolph, "the villain had evidently +taken every precaution to prevent detection."</p> + +<p>"He had, indeed. As for me, sir," continued Louise, +"I was so thunderstruck with horror at these assertions +of M. Ferrand, that I knew not what to reply. Ignorant +of my having taken anything to induce sleep, I felt +wholly unable to account for my having slept so unusually +heavy and long. Appearances were strongly +against me; what would it avail for me to publish the +dreadful story? No one would believe me innocent. +How, indeed, could I hope or expect they should, when +even to myself the events of that fatal night continued +an impenetrable mystery?"</p> + +<p>Even Rodolph remained speechless with horror at +this fearful revelation of the diabolical hypocrisy of M. +Ferrand.</p> + +<p>"Then," said he, after a pause of some minutes, "you +never ventured to inform your father of the infamous +treatment you had received?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered she, "for I dreaded lest he might +suppose I had willingly listened to the persuasions of my +master; and I also feared that, in the first burst of his +indignation, my poor father would forget that not only +his own freedom, but the very existence of his family, +depended upon the pleasure of M. Ferrand."</p> + +<p>"And probably," continued Rodolph, desirous if possible +to save Louise the painful confession, "probably, +yielding to constraint, and the dread of endangering the +safety of your father and family by a refusal, you continued +to be the victim of this monster's brutality?"</p> + +<p>Louise spoke not, but her cast-down eyes, and the deep +blushes which dyed her pale cheek, answered most painfully +in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"And was his conduct afterwards less barbarous and +unfeeling than before?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. And when, by chance, my master +had the curé and vicaire of Bonne Nouvelle to dine with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +him, the better to avert all suspicion from himself, he +would scold me severely in their presence, and even beg +M. le Curé to admonish me, assuring him that some day +or other I should fall into ruin; that I was a girl of free +and bold manners, and that he could not make me keep +my distance with the young men in his office; that I +was an idle, unworthy person, whom he only kept out of +charity and pity for my father, who was an honest man +with a large family, whom he had greatly served and +obliged. With the exception of that part of the statement +which referred to my father, the rest was utterly +false. I never, by any chance, saw the clerks belonging +to his office, as it was situated in a building entirely +detached from the house."</p> + +<p>"And, when alone with M. Ferrand, how did he +account for his treatment of you before the curé?"</p> + +<p>"He assured me he was only jesting. However, the +curé believed him, and reprehended me very severely, +saying that a person must be vicious indeed to go astray +in so godly a household, where I had none but the most +holy and religious examples before my eyes. I knew not +what answer to make to this address; I felt my cheeks burn +and my eyes involuntarily cast down. All these indications +of shame and confusion were construed to my disadvantage, +until, at length, sick at heart, and weary, and +disgusted, my very life seemed a burden to me, and many +times I felt tempted to destroy myself; but the thoughts +of my parents, my poor brothers and sisters, that my +small earnings helped to maintain, deterred me from +ending my sorrows by death. I therefore resigned myself +to my wretched fate, finding one consolation, amidst +the degradation of my lot, in the thought that, at least, +I had preserved my father from the horrors of a prison. +But a fresh misfortune overwhelmed me; I became +<i>enceinte</i>. I now felt myself lost indeed. A secret presentiment +assured me that, when M. Ferrand became +aware of a circumstance which ought, at least, to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +rendered him less harsh and cruel, he would treat me +even more unkindly than before. I was still, however, +far from expecting what afterwards occurred."</p> + +<p>At this moment, Morel, recovering from his temporary +abstraction, gazed around him, as though trying to collect +his ideas, then, pressing his hand upon his forehead, +looked at his daughter with an inquiring glance, and +said:</p> + +<p>"I fancy I have been ill, or something is wrong with +my head—grief—fatigue—tell me, my child—what +were you saying just now? I seem almost unable to +recollect."</p> + +<p>"When," continued Louise, unheeding her father's +look, "when M. Ferrand discovered that I was likely to +become a mother—"</p> + +<p>Here the lapidary waved his hand in despairing agony, +but Rodolph calmed him by an imploring look.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Morel, "let me hear all; 'tis fit and +right the tale should be told. Go on, go on, my girl, and +I will listen from beginning to end."</p> + +<p>Louise went on. "I besought M. Ferrand to tell me +by what means I should conceal my shame, and the consequence +of a crime of which he was the author. Alas, +dear father, I can scarcely hope or believe you will credit +what I am about to tell you."</p> + +<p>"What did he say? Speak."</p> + +<p>"Interrupting me with much indignation and well-feigned +surprise, he affected not to understand my meaning, +and even inquired whether I had not lost my senses. +Terrified, I exclaimed, 'Oh, sir, what is to become of +me? Alas, if you have no pity on me, pity at least the +poor infant that must soon see the light!'</p> + +<p>"'What a lost, depraved character!' cried M. Ferrand, +raising his clasped hands towards heaven. 'Horrible, +indeed! Why, you poor, wretched girl, is it possible +that you have the audacity to accuse me of disgracing +myself by any illicit acquaintance with a person of your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +infamous description? Can it be that you have the +hardihood to lay the fruits of your immoral conduct and +gross irregularity at my door,—I, who have repeated +a hundred times, in the presence of respectable witnesses, +that you would come to ruin some day, vile profligate +that you are? Quit my house this instant, or I +will drive you out!'"</p> + +<p>Rodolph and Morel were struck with horror; a +system of wickedness like this seemed to freeze their +blood.</p> + +<p>"By Heaven!" said Rodolph, "this surpasses any +horrors that imagination could have conceived."</p> + +<p>Morel did not speak, but his eyes expanded fearfully, +whilst a convulsive spasm contracted his features. He +quitted the stool on which he was sitting, opened a +drawer suddenly, and, taking out a long and very sharp +file, fixed in a wooden handle, he rushed towards the +door. Rodolph, guessing his thoughts, seized his arm, +and stopped his progress.</p> + +<p>"Morel, where are you going? You will do a mischief, +unhappy man!"</p> + +<p>"Take care," exclaimed the infuriated artisan, struggling, +"or I shall commit two crimes instead of one!" +and the madman threatened Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Father, it is our benefactor!" exclaimed Louise.</p> + +<p>"He is jesting at us; he wants to save the notary," +replied Morel, quite crazed, and struggling with Rodolph. +At the end of a second, the latter disarmed him, carefully +opened the door, and threw the file out on the +staircase. Louise ran to the lapidary, embraced him, +and said:</p> + +<p>"Father, it is our benefactor! You have raised your +hand against him,—recover yourself."</p> + +<p>These words recalled Morel to himself, and hiding +his face in his hands, he fell mutely on his knees before +Rodolph.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 322px;"><a name="image83" id="image83"></a> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="322" height="500" alt="Morel fell back on the stool. +Original Etching by Adrian Marcel." title="Morel fell back on the stool." /> +<span class="caption"><i>Morel fell back on the stool.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Adrian Marcel.</span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rise, rise, unhappy father," said Rodolph, in accents +of great kindness; "be patient, be patient, I understand +your wrath and share your hatred; but, in the name of +your vengeance, do not compromise your daughter!"</p> + +<p>"Louise!—my daughter!" cried the lapidary, rising, +"but what can justice—the law—do against that? We +are but poor wretches, and were we to accuse this rich, +powerful, and respected man, we should be laughed to +scorn. Ha! ha! ha!" and he laughed convulsively, +"and they would be right. Where would be our +proofs?—yes, our proofs? No one would believe us. +So, I tell you—I tell you," he added, with increased +fury, "I tell you that I have no confidence but in the +impartiality of my knife."</p> + +<p>"Silence, Morel! your grief distracts you," said +Rodolph to him sorrowfully; "let your daughter +speak; the moments are precious; the magistrate +waits; I must know all,—all, I tell you; go on, my +child."</p> + +<p>Morel fell back on the stool, overwhelmed with his +anguish.</p> + +<p>"It is useless, sir," continued Louise, "to tell you of +my tears, my prayers. I was thunderstruck. This took +place at ten o'clock in the morning in M. Ferrand's +private room. The curate was coming to breakfast +with him, and entered at the moment when my master +was assailing me with reproach and accusations. He +appeared much put out at the sight of the priest."</p> + +<p>"What occurred then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he soon recovered himself, and exclaimed, call him +by name, 'Well, Monsieur l'Abbé, I said so, I said +this unhappy girl would be undone. She is ruined, +ruined for ever; she has just confessed to me her fault +and her shame, and entreated me to save her. Only +think that, from commiseration, I have received such a +wanton into my house!' 'How,' said the abbé to me +with indignation, 'in spite of the excellent counsels +which your master has given you a hundred times in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +my presence, have you really sunk so low? Oh, it is +unpardonable! My friend, my friend, after the kindness +you have evinced towards this wretched girl and her +family, any pity would be weakness. Be inexorable,' +said the abbé, the dupe, like the rest of the world, of +M. Ferrand's hypocrisy."</p> + +<p>"And you did not unmask the scoundrel on the +spot?" asked Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no! monsieur, I was terrified, my head was in +a whirl, I did not dare, I could not pronounce a word,—yet +I was anxious to speak and defend myself. 'But +sir—' I cried. 'Not one word more, unworthy creature,' +said M. Ferrand, interrupting me. 'You heard M. +l'Abbé. Pity would be weakness. In an hour you +leave my house!' Then, without allowing me time to +reply, he led the abbé into another room. After the +departure of M. Ferrand," resumed Louise, "I was +almost bereft of my senses for a moment. I was +driven from his house, and unable to find any home +elsewhere, in consequence of my condition, and the +bad character which my master would give with me. +I felt sure, too, that in his rage he would send my +father to prison; and I did not know what to do. I +went to my room, and there I wept bitterly. At the +end of two hours M. Ferrand appeared. 'Is your bundle +made up?' said he. 'Pardon,' I exclaimed, falling at +his feet, 'do not turn me from your house in my present +condition. What will become of me? I have no place +to turn to.' 'So much the better; this is the way that +God punishes loose behaviour and falsehood.' 'Dare you +say that I tell falsehood?' I asked, indignantly, 'dare +you say that it is not you who have caused my ruin?' +'Leave my house this moment, you wretch, since you +persist in your calumnies!' he replied in a terrible +voice; 'and to punish you I will to-morrow send your +father to the gaol.' 'Well, no, no!' said I, terrified; 'I +will not again accuse you, sir; that I promise you; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +do not drive me away from the house. Have pity on +my father. The little I earn here helps to support my +family. Keep me here; I will say nothing. I will +endeavour to hide every thing; and when I can no +longer do so, oh, then, but not till then, send me away!' +After fresh entreaties on my part, M. Ferrand consented +to keep me with him; and I considered that a great +favour in my wretched condition. During the time that +followed this cruel scene, I was most wretched, and +miserably treated; only sometimes M. Germain, whom I +seldom saw, kindly asked me what made me unhappy; +but shame prevented me from confessing anything to +him."</p> + +<p>"Was not that about the time when he came to +reside here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, he was looking out for an apartment near +the Rue du Temple or de l'Arsenal. There was one to +let here, and I told him of that one which you now +occupy, sir, and it suited him exactly. When he quitted +it, about two months ago, he begged me not to mention +his new address here, but that they knew it at M. +Ferrand's."</p> + +<p>The necessity under which Germain was to conceal +himself from those who were trying to find him explained +all these precautions to Rodolph.</p> + +<p>"And it never occurred to you to make a confidant of +Germain?" he said to Louise.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, he was also a dupe to the hypocrisy of M. +Ferrand; he called him harsh and exacting; but he +thought him the honestest man on the face of the earth."</p> + +<p>"When Germain was lodging here, did he never hear +your father at times accuse the notary of desiring to +seduce you?"</p> + +<p>"My father never expressed his fears before strangers; +and besides, at this period, I deceived his uneasiness, and +comforted him by the assurances that M. Ferrand no +longer thought of me. Alas! my poor father will now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +forgive me those falsehoods? I only employed them to +tranquillise your mind, father dear, that was all."</p> + +<p>Morel made no reply; he only leaned his forehead on +his two arms, crossed on his working-board, and sobbed +bitterly.</p> + +<p>Rodolph made a sign to Louise not to address herself +to her father, and she continued thus:</p> + +<p>"I led from this time a life of tears and perpetual +anguish. By using every precaution, I had contrived to +conceal my condition from all eyes; but I could not hope +thus to hide it during the last two months. The future +became more and more alarming to me, as M. Ferrand +had declared that he would not keep me any longer in +the house; and therefore I should be deprived of the +small resources which assisted our family to live. +Cursed and driven from my home by my father, for, +after the falsehoods I had told him to set his mind at +ease, he would believe me the accomplice, and not the +victim of M. Ferrand, what was to become of me? where +could I find refuge or place myself in my condition? I +then had a criminal idea; but, fortunately, I recoiled +from putting it into execution. I confess this to you, +sir, because I will not keep any thing concealed, not even +that which may tell against myself; and thus I may +show you the extremities to which I was reduced by the +cruelty of M. Ferrand. If I had given way to such a +thought, would he not have been the accomplice of my +crime?"</p> + +<p>After a moment's silence, Louise resumed with great +effort, and in a trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"I had heard say by the porteress that a quack doctor +lived in the house,—and,—"</p> + +<p>She could not finish.</p> + +<p>Rodolph recollected that, at his first interview with +Madame Pipelet, he had received from the postman, in +her absence, a letter written on coarse paper, in a feigned +hand, and on which he had remarked the traces of tears.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you wrote to him, unhappy girl, three days +since? You wept over your letter; and the handwriting +was disguised."</p> + +<p>Louise looked at Rodolph in great consternation.</p> + +<p>"How did you know that, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Do not alarm yourself; I was alone in Madame +Pipelet's lodge when they brought in the letter; and I +remarked it quite accidentally."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, it was mine. In this letter, which bore no +signature, I wrote to M. Bradamanti, saying that, as I +did not dare to go to him, I would beg him to be in the +evening near the Château d'Eau. I had lost my senses. +I sought fearful advice from him; and I left my master's +house with the intention of following them; but, at the +end of a minute, my reason returned to me, and I saw +what a crime I was about to commit. I returned to the +house, and did not attend the appointment I had written +for. That evening an event occurred, the consequences +of which caused the misfortune which has overwhelmed +me. M. Ferrand thought I had gone out for a couple of +hours, whilst, in reality, I had been gone but a very +short time. As I passed before the small garden gate, +to my great surprise I saw it half open. I entered by it, +and took the key into M. Ferrand's private room, where +it was usually kept. This apartment was next to his +bedroom, the most retired place in the house; and it was +there he had his private meetings with clients and others, +transacting his every-day business in the office. You +will see, sir, why I give you these particulars. As I very +well knew the ways of the apartments, after having +crossed the dining-room, which was lighted up, I entered +into the salon without any candle, and then into the +little closet, which was on this side of his sleeping-room. +The door of this latter opened at the moment when I was +putting the key on a table; and the moment my master +saw me by the light of the lamp, which was burning in +his chamber, then he suddenly shut the door on some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +person whom I could not see, and then, in spite of the +darkness, rushed towards me and, seizing me by the +throat as if he would strangle me, said, in a low voice, +and in a tone at once savage and alarmed, 'What! listening!—spying +at the door! What did you hear? +Answer me,—answer directly, or I'll strangle you.' +But, suddenly changing his idea, and not giving me time +to say a word, he drove me back into the dining-room; +the office door was open, and he brutally thrust me in +and shut the door."</p> + +<p>"And you did not hear the conversation?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word, sir; if I had known that there was any +one in his room with him, I should have been careful not +to have gone there. He even forbade Madame Séraphin +from doing so."</p> + +<p>"And, when you left the office, what did he say to you?"</p> + +<p>"It was the housekeeper who let me out, and I did not +see M. Ferrand again that night. His violence to me, +and the fright I had undergone, made me very ill indeed. +The next day, at the moment when I went down-stairs, +I met M. Ferrand, and I shuddered when I remembered +his threats of the night before; what then was my surprise +when he said to me calmly, 'You knew that I forbid +any one to enter my private room when I have any +person there; but, for the short time longer you will +stay here, it is useless to scold you any more.' And +then he went into his study. This mildness astonished +me after his violence of the previous evening. I went on +with my work as usual, and was going to put his bedchamber +to rights. I had suffered a great deal all night, +and was weak and exhausted. Whilst I was hanging up +some clothes in a dark closet at the end of the room +near the bed, I was suddenly seized with a painful giddiness, +and felt as if I should lose my senses; as I fell, I +tried to support myself by grasping at a large cloak +which hung against the wainscot; but in my fall I drew +this cloak down on me, and was almost entirely covered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +by it. When I came to myself, the glass door of the +above closet was shut. I heard M. Ferrand's voice,—he +was speaking aloud. Remembering the scene of the +previous evening, I thought I should be killed if I stirred. +I suppose that, hidden by the cloak which had fallen on +me, my master did not perceive me when he shut the +door of this dark wardrobe. If he found me, how could +I account for, and make him believe, this singular accident? +I, therefore, held my breath, and in spite of myself, +overheard the conclusion of this conversation which, +no doubt had begun some time."</p> + +<p>"And who was the person who was talking with the +notary and shut up in this room with him?" inquired +Rodolph of Louise.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, sir; I did not recognise the voice."</p> + +<p>"And what were they saying?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt they had been conversing some time; but +all I heard was this: 'Nothing more easy,' said the unknown +voice; 'a fellow named Bras Rouge has put me, +for the affair I mentioned to you just now, in connection +with a family of "fresh-water pirates,"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> established on the +point of a small islet near Asnières. They are the greatest +scoundrels on earth; the father and grandfather were +guillotined; two of the sons were condemned to the galleys +for life; but there are still left a mother, three sons, +and two daughters, all as infamous as they can possibly +be. They say that at night, in order to plunder on both +sides of the Seine, they sometimes come down in their +boats as low as Bercy. They are ruffians, who will kill +any one for a crown-piece; but we shall not want their +aid further than their hospitality for your lady from the +country. The Martials—that is the name of these +pirates—will pass in her eyes for an honest family of +fishers. I will go, as if from you, to pay two or three +visits to your young lady. I will order her a few comforting +draughts; and at the end of a week or ten days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +she will form an acquaintance with the burial-ground of +Asnières. In villages, deaths are looked on as nothing +more than a letter by the post, whilst in Paris they are +a little more curious in such matters. But when do you +send your young lady from the provinces to the isle of +Asnières, for I must give the Martials notice of the part +they have to play?' 'She will arrive here to-morrow, +and next day I shall send her to them,' replied M. +Ferrand; 'and I shall tell her that Doctor Vincent will +pay her a visit at my request.' 'Ah, Vincent will do as +well as any other name,' said the voice."</p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> We shall hear more particulars of these worthies in another chapter.</p></div> +</div> + +<p>"What new mystery of crime and infamy?" said +Rodolph, with increased astonishment.</p> + +<p>"New? No, sir, you will see that it is in connection +with another crime that you know of," resumed Louise, +who thus continued: "I heard a movement of chairs,—the +interview had ended. 'I do not ask the secret of +you,' said M. Ferrand, 'you behave to me as I behave +to you.' 'Thus we may mutually serve without any +power mutually to injure each other,' answered the +voice. 'Observe my zeal! I received your letter at ten +o'clock last night, and here I am this morning. Good-by, +accomplice; do not forget the isle of Asnières, the +fisher Martial, and Doctor Vincent. Thanks to these +three magic words, your country damsel has only eight +days to look forward to.' 'Wait,' said M. Ferrand, +'whilst I go and undo the safety-bolt, which I have +drawn to in my closet, and let me look out and see that +there is no one in the antechamber, in order that you +may go out by the side path in the garden by which +you entered.' M. Ferrand went out for a moment, and +then returned; and I heard him go away with the person +whose voice I did not know. You may imagine my fright, +sir, during this conversation, and my despair at having +unintentionally discovered such a secret. Two hours after +this conversation, Madame Séraphin came to me in my +room, whither I had gone, trembling all over, and worse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +than I had been yet. 'My master is inquiring for you,' +said she to me; 'you are better off than you deserve to +be. Come, go down-stairs. You are very pale; but what +you are going to hear will give you a colour.' I followed +Madame Séraphin, and found M. Ferrand in his private +study. When I saw him, I shuddered in spite of myself, +and yet he did not look so disagreeable as usual. He +looked at me steadfastly for some time, as if he would +read the bottom of my thoughts. I lowered my eyes. +'You seem very ill?' he said. 'Yes, sir,' I replied, +much surprised at being thus addressed. 'It is easily +accounted for,' added he; 'it is the result of your condition +and the efforts you make to conceal it; but, in spite +of your falsehoods, your bad conduct, and your indiscretion +yesterday,' he added, in a milder tone, 'I feel pity +for you. A few days more, and it will be impossible to +conceal your situation. Although I have treated you +as you deserve before the curate of the parish, such an +event in the eyes of the world will be the disgrace of +a house like mine; and, moreover, your family will +be deeply distressed. Under these circumstances I will +come to your aid.' 'Ah! sir,' I cried, 'such kind words +from you make me forget everything.' 'Forget what?' +asked he, hastily. 'Nothing,—nothing,—forgive me, +sir!' I replied, fearful of irritating him, and believing +him kindly disposed towards me. 'Then attend to me,' +said he; 'you will go to see your father to-day, and tell +him that I am going to send you into the country for +two or three months, to take care of a house which +I have just bought. During your absence I will send +your wages to him. To-morrow you will leave Paris. +I will give you a letter of introduction to Madame Martial, +the mother of an honest family of fishers, who live +near Asnières. You will say you came from the country +and nothing more. You will learn hereafter my motive +for this introduction, which is for your good. Madame +Martial will treat you as one of the family, and a medical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +man of my acquaintance, Dr. Vincent, will give you +all you require in your situation. You see how kind I +am to you!'"</p> + +<p>"What a horrible snare!" exclaimed Rodolph; "I see +it all now. Believing that overnight you had listened +to some secret, no doubt very important for him, he +desired to get rid of you. He had probably an interest +in deceiving his accomplice by describing you as a female +from the country. What must have been your alarm at +this proposal?"</p> + +<p>"It was like a violent blow; it quite bereft me of +sense. I could not reply, but looked at M. Ferrand +aghast; my head began to wander. I should, perhaps, +have risked my life by telling him that I had overheard +his projects in the morning, when fortunately I recollected +the fresh perils to which such an avowal would +expose me. 'You do not understand me, then?' he +said, impatiently. 'Yes, sir,—but,' I added, all trembling, +'I should prefer not going into the country.' +'Why not? You will be taken every care of where +I send you.' 'No, no, I will not go; I would rather +remain in Paris, and not go away from my family; I +would rather confess all to them, and die with them, +if it must be so.' 'You refuse me, then?' said M. +Ferrand, repressing his rage, and looking fixedly at me. +'Why have you so suddenly changed your mind? Not +a minute ago you accepted my offer.' I saw that if he +guessed my motive I was lost, so I replied that I did not +then think that he desired me to leave Paris and my +family. 'But you dishonour your family, you wretched +girl!' he exclaimed, and unable any longer to restrain +himself, he seized me by the arms, and shook me so +violently that I fell. 'I will give you until the day after +to-morrow,' he cried, 'and then you shall go from here +to the Martials, or go and inform your father that I have +turned you out of my house, and will send him to gaol +to-morrow.' He then left me, stretched on the floor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +whence I had not the power to rise. Madame Séraphin +had run in when she heard her master raise his voice +so loud, and with her assistance, and staggering at every +step, I regained my chamber, where I threw myself on +my bed, and remained until night, so entirely was I prostrated +by all that had happened. By the pains that came +on about one o'clock in the morning, I felt assured that +I should be prematurely a mother."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not summon assistance?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I did not dare. M. Ferrand was anxious to get +rid of me, and he would certainly have sent for Dr. +Vincent, who would have killed me at my master's +instead of killing me at the Martials, or else M. Ferrand +would have stifled me, and said that I had died in my +confinement. Alas, sir, perhaps these were vain terrors, +but they came over me at this moment and caused my +suffering; otherwise I would have endured the shame, +and should never have been accused of killing my child. +Instead of calling for help, and for fear my cries should +be heard, I stuffed my mouth full with the bedclothes. +At length, after dreadful anguish, alone, in the midst +of darkness, the child was born, and,—dead,—I did not +kill it!—indeed, I did not kill it,—ah, no! In the +midst of this fearful night I had one moment of bitter +joy, and that was when I pressed my child in my arms."</p> + +<p>And the voice of Louise was stifled with sobs.</p> + +<p>Morel had listened to his daughter's recital with a +mournful apathy and indifference which alarmed Rodolph. +However, seeing her burst into tears, the +lapidary, who was still leaning on his work-board +with his two hands pressed against his temples, +looked at Louise steadfastly, and said:</p> + +<p>"She weeps,—she weeps,—why is she weeping?" +Then, after a moment's hesitation, "Ah, yes,—I know, +I know,—the notary,—isn't it? Go on my poor +Louise,—you are my daughter,—I love you still,—just +now I did not recognise you,—my eyes were darkened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +with my tears,—oh, my head,—how badly it +aches,—my head, my head!"</p> + +<p>"You do not believe me guilty, do you, father, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!"</p> + +<p>"It is a terrible misfortune; but I was so fearful of +the notary."</p> + +<p>"The notary? Ah, yes, and well you might be; he +is so wicked, so very wicked!"</p> + +<p>"But you will forgive me now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"Really and truly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—ah, yes! Ah! I love you the same as ever,—although +I cannot—not say—you see—because—oh, +my head, my head!"</p> + +<p>Louise looked at Rodolph in extreme alarm.</p> + +<p>"He is suffering deeply; but let him calm himself. +Go on."</p> + +<p>Louise, after looking twice or thrice at Morel with +great disquietude, thus resumed:</p> + +<p>"I clasped my infant to my breast, and was astonished +at not hearing it breathe. I said to myself, 'The +breathing of a baby is so faint that it is difficult to hear +it.' But then it was so cold. I had no light, for they +never would leave one with me. I waited until the +dawn came, trying to keep it warm as well as I could; +but it seemed to me colder and colder. I said to myself +then; 'It freezes so hard that it must be the +cold that chills it so.' At daybreak I carried my child +to the window and looked at it; it was stiff and cold. I +placed my mouth to its mouth, to try and feel its breath. +I put my hand on its heart; but it did not beat; it was +dead."</p> + +<p>And Louise burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh! at this moment," she continued, "something +passed within me which it is impossible to describe. +I only remember confusedly what followed,—it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +like a dream,—it was at once despair, terror, rage, +and above all, I was seized with another fear; I no +longer feared M. Ferrand would strangle me, but I +feared that, if they found my child dead by my side, +I should be accused of having killed it. Then I had but +one thought, and that was to conceal the corpse from +everybody's sight; and then my dishonour would not be +known, and I should no longer have to dread my father's +anger. I should escape from M. Ferrand's vengeance, +because I could now leave his house, obtain another +situation, and gain something to help and support my +family. Alas! sir, such were the reasons which induced +me not to say any thing, but try and hide my child's +remains from all eyes. I was wrong, I know; but, in +the situation in which I was, oppressed on all sides, +worn out by suffering, and almost mad, I did not consider +to what I exposed myself if I should be discovered."</p> + +<p>"What torture! what torture!" said Rodolph with +deep sympathy.</p> + +<p>"The day was advancing," continued Louise, "and I +had but a few moments before me until the household +would be stirring. I hesitated no longer, but, wrapping +up the unhappy babe as well as I could, I descended the +staircase silently, and went to the bottom of the garden +to try and make a hole in the ground to bury it; but it +had frozen so hard in the night that I could not dig up +the earth. So I concealed the body in the bottom of a +sort of cellar, into which no one entered during the +winter, and then I covered it up with an empty box +which had held flowers, and returned to my apartment, +without any person having seen me. Of all I tell you, +sir, I have but a very confused recollection. Weak as I +was, it is inexplicable to me how I had strength and +courage to do all I did. At nine o'clock Madame +Séraphin came to inquire why I had not risen. I told +her that I was so very ill, and prayed of her to allow me +to remain in bed during the day, and that on the following<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +day I should quit the house, as M. Ferrand had dismissed +me. At the end of an hour's time, he came +himself. 'You are worse to-day. Ah! that is the consequence +of your obstinacy,' said he; 'if you had taken +advantage of my kind offer, you would to-day have been +comfortably settled with some worthy people, who would +have taken every care of you; but I will not be so cruel +as to leave you without help in your present situation; +and this evening Doctor Vincent shall come and see +you.' At this threat I shuddered; but I replied to M. +Ferrand that I was wrong to refuse his offers the evening +before, and that I would now accept them; but that, +being too ill to move then, I could not go until the day +after the next to the Martials, and that it was useless to +send for Doctor Vincent. I only sought to gain time, for +I had made up my mind to leave the house, and go the +next day to my father, whom I hoped to keep in ignorance +of all. Relying on my promise, M. Ferrand was almost +kind to me, and, for the first time in his life, recommended +Madame Séraphin to take care of me. I passed +the day in mental agony, trembling every instant lest +the body of my child should be accidentally discovered. +I was only anxious that the frost should break up, so +that, the ground not being so hard, I might be able to +dig it up. The snow began to fall, and that gave me +some hopes. I remained all day in bed, and when the +night came, I waited until every one should be asleep, +and then I summoned strength enough to rise and go to +the wood-closet, where I found a chopper, with which I +hoped to dig a hole in the ground which was covered +with snow. After immense trouble I succeeded, and +then, taking the body, I wept bitterly over it, and +buried it as well as I could in the little box that +had held flowers. I did not know the prayer for the +dead; but I said a Pater and an Ave, and prayed to +the good God to receive it into Paradise. I thought my +courage would fail me when I was covering the mould<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +over the sort of bier I had made. A mother burying +her own child! At length I completed my task, and ah, +what it cost me! I covered the place all over with +snow, that it might conceal every trace of what I had +done. The moon had lighted me; yet, when all was +done, I could hardly resolve to go away. Poor little +innocent!—in the icy ground,—beneath the snow! +Although it was dead, yet I still seemed to fear that it +must feel the cold. At length I returned to my chamber; +and when I got into bed I was in a violent fever. +In the morning M. Ferrand sent to know how I found +myself. I replied that I was a little better, and that I +felt sure I should be strong enough to go next day into +the country. I remained the whole of the day in bed, +hoping to acquire a little strength, and in the evening I +arose and went down into the kitchen to warm myself. I +was then quite alone, and then went out into the garden to +to say a last prayer. As I went up to my room I met M. +Germain on the landing-place of the study in which he +wrote sometimes, looking very pale. He said to me +hastily, placing a rouleau of money in my hand, 'They +are going to arrest your father to-morrow morning for +an over-due bill of thirteen hundred francs; he is unable +to pay it; but here is the money. As soon as it is light, +run to him. It was only to-day that I found out what +sort of a man M. Ferrand is; and he is a villain. I +will unmask him. Above all, do not say that you have +the money from me.'</p> + +<p>"M. Germain did not even give me time to thank +him, but ran quickly down-stairs. This morning," continued +Louise, "before any one had risen at M. Ferrand's, +I came here with the money which M. Germain had given +me to save my father; but it was not enough, and but +for your generosity, I could not have rescued him from +the bailiff's hands. Probably, after I had left, they went +into my room and, having suspicions, have now sent +to arrest me. One last service, sir," said Louise, taking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +the rouleau of gold from her pocket, "will you give back +this money to M. Germain; I had promised him not to +say to any one that he was employed at M. Ferrand's; +but, since you know it, I have not broken my confidence. +Now, sir, I repeat to you before God, who hears me, that +I have not said a word that is not quite true; I have not +tried to hide my faults, and—"</p> + +<p>But, suddenly interrupting herself, Louise exclaimed +with alarm:</p> + +<p>"Sir, sir, look at my father! what can be the matter +with him?"</p> + +<p>Morel had heard the latter part of this narration with +a dull indifference, which Rodolph had accounted for by +attributing it to the heavy additional misfortune which +had occurred to him. After such violent and repeated +shocks, his tears must have dried up, his sensibility have +become lost; he had not even the strength left to feel +anger, as Rodolph thought; but Rodolph was mistaken. +As the flame of a candle which is nearly extinguished +dies away and recovers, so Morel's reason, already much +shaken, wavered for some time, throwing out now and +then some small rays of intelligence, and then suddenly +all was darkness.</p> + +<p>Absolutely unconscious of what was said or passing +around him, for some time the lapidary had become +quite insane. Although his hand-wheel was placed on +the other side of his working-table, and he had not in +his hands either stones or tools, yet the occupied artisan +was feigning the operations of his daily labour, and +affecting to use his implements. He accompanied +this pantomime with a sort of noise with his tongue +against the roof of his mouth, in imitation of the noise +of his lathe in its rotatory motions.</p> + +<p>"But, sir," said Louise again, with increasing fright, +"look, pray look at my father!"</p> + +<p>Then, approaching the artisan, she said to him:</p> + +<p>"Father! father!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>Morel gazed on his daughter with that troubled, vague, +distracted, wandering look which characterises the insane, +and without discontinuing his assumed labour, he replied, +in a low and melancholy tone:</p> + +<p>"I owe the notary thirteen hundred francs; it is the +price of Louise's blood,—so I must work, work, work!—oh, +I'll pay, I'll pay, I'll pay!"</p> + +<p>"Can it be possible? This cannot be,—he is not +mad,—no, no!" exclaimed Louise, in a heart-rending +voice. "He will recover,—it is but a momentary fit of +absence!"</p> + +<p>"Morel, my good fellow," said Rodolph to him, "we +are here. Your daughter is near you,—she is innocent."</p> + +<p>"Thirteen hundred francs!" said the lapidary, not +attending to Rodolph, but going on with his sham +employment.</p> + +<p>"My father!" exclaimed Louise, throwing herself at +his feet, and clasping his hands in her own, in spite of +his resistance, "it is I—it is your Louise!"</p> + +<p>"Thirteen hundred francs," he repeated, wresting his +hands from the grasp of his daughter. "Thirteen hundred +francs,—and if not," he added, in a low and as it +were, confidential tone, "and if not, Louise is to be +guillotined."</p> + +<p>And again he imitated the turning of his lathe.</p> + +<p>Louise gave a piercing shriek.</p> + +<p>"He is mad!" she exclaimed, "he is mad! and it is +I—it is I who am the cause! Oh! Yet it is not +my fault,—I did not desire to do ill,—it was that +monster."</p> + +<p>"Courage, courage, my poor girl," said Rodolph, "let +us hope that this attack is but momentary. Your father +has suffered so much; so many troubles, all at once, +were more than he could bear. His reason wanders for +a moment; it will soon be restored."</p> + +<p>"But my mother, my grandmother, my sisters, my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +brothers, what will become of them all?" exclaimed +Louise, "Now they are deprived of my father and myself, +they must die of hunger, misery and despair!"</p> + +<p>"Am I not here?—make your mind, easy; they shall +want for nothing. Courage, I say to you. Your disclosure +will bring about the punishment of a great criminal. +You have convinced me of your innocence, and I +have no doubt but that it will be discovered and proclaimed."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir, you see,—dishonour, madness, death,—see +the miseries which that man causes, and yet no one can +do any thing against him! Nothing! The very thought +completes all my wretchedness."</p> + +<p>"So far from that, let the contrary thought help to +support you."</p> + +<p>"What mean you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Take with you the assurance that your father, yourself, +and your family shall be avenged."</p> + +<p>"Avenged!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that I swear to you," replied Rodolph, solemnly; +"I swear to you that his crimes shall be exposed, and this +man shall bitterly expiate the dishonour, madness, and +death which he has caused. If the laws are powerless +to reach him, if his cunning and skill equal his misdeeds, +then his cunning must be met by cunning, his skill must +be counteracted by skill, his misdeeds faced by other +misdeeds, but which shall be to his but a just and +avenging retribution, inflicted on a guilty wretch by an +inexorable hand, when compared to a cowardly and base +murder."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir, may Heaven hear you! It is no longer +myself whom I seek to avenge, but a poor, distracted +father,—my child killed in its birth—"</p> + +<p>Then, trying another effort to turn Morel from his +insanity, Louise again exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Adieu, father! They are going to lead me to prison, +and I shall never see you again. It is your poor Louise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +who bids you adieu. My father! my father! my +father!"</p> + +<p>To this distressing appeal there was no response. In +that poor, destroyed mind there was no echo,—none. +The paternal cords, always the last broken, no longer +vibrated.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>The door of the garret opened; the commissary +entered.</p> + +<p>"My moments are numbered, sir," said he to Rodolph. +"I declare to you with much regret that I cannot allow +this conversation to be protracted any longer."</p> + +<p>"This conversation is ended, sir," replied Rodolph, +bitterly, and pointing to the lapidary. "Louise has +nothing more to say to her father,—he has nothing +more to hear from his daughter,—he is a lunatic."</p> + +<p>"I feared as much. It is really frightful!" exclaimed +the magistrate.</p> + +<p>And approaching the workman hastily, after a +minute's scrutiny, he was convinced of the sad +reality.</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir," said he sorrowfully to Rodolph, "I had +already expressed my sincerest wishes that the innocence +of this young girl might be discovered; but after +such a misfortune I will not confine myself to good +wishes,—no,—no! I will speak of this honest and +distressed family; I will speak of this fearful and last +blow which has overwhelmed it; and do not doubt but +that the judges will have an additional motive to find +the accused innocent."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, thanks, sir!" said Rodolph; "by acting thus +it will not be a mere duty that you fulfil, but a holy +office which you undertake."</p> + +<p>"Believe me, sir, our duty is always such a painful +one that it is most grateful to us to be interested in any +thing which is worthy and good."</p> + +<p>"One word more, sir. The disclosures of Louise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +Morel have fully convinced me of her innocence. Will +you be so kind as inform me how her pretended crime +was discovered, or rather denounced?"</p> + +<p>"This morning," said the magistrate, "a housekeeper +in the service of M. Ferrand, the notary, came and +deposed before me that, after the hasty departure of +Louise Morel, whom she knew to be seven months +advanced in the family way, she went into the young +girl's apartment, and was convinced that she had been +prematurely confined; footsteps had been traced in the +snow, which had led to the detection of the body of a +new-born child buried in the garden. After this declaration +I went myself to the Rue du Sentier, and found M. +Jacques Ferrand most indignant that such a scandalous +affair should have happened in his house. The curé of +the church Bonne Nouvelle, whom he had sent for, also +declared to me that Louise Morel had owned her fault +in his presence one day, when, on this account, she was +imploring the indulgence and pity of her master; that, +besides, he had often heard M. Ferrand give Louise +Morel the most serious warnings, telling her that, sooner +or later, she would be lost,—'a prediction,' added the +abbé, 'which has been unfortunately fulfilled.' The +indignation of M. Ferrand," continued the magistrate, +"seemed to me so just and natural, that I shared in it. +He told me that, no doubt, Louise Morel had taken +refuge with her father. I came hither instantly, for +the crime being flagrant, I was empowered to proceed +by immediate apprehension."</p> + +<p>Rodolph with difficulty restrained himself when he +heard of the indignation of M. Ferrand, and said to +the magistrate:</p> + +<p>"I thank you a thousand times, sir, for your kindness, +and the support you promise Louise. I will take care +that this poor man, as well as his wife's mother, are +sent to a lunatic asylum."</p> + +<p>Then, addressing Louise, who was still kneeling close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +to her father, endeavouring, but vainly, to recall him to +his senses:</p> + +<p>"Make up your mind, my poor girl, to go without +taking leave of your mother,—spare her the pain of +such a parting. Be assured that she shall be taken care +of, and nothing shall in future be wanting to your family, +for a woman shall be found who will take care of your +mother and occupy herself with your brothers, and sisters, +under the superintendence of your kind neighbour, +Mlle. Rigolette. As for your father, nothing shall be +spared to make his return to reason as rapid as it is +complete. Courage! Believe me, honest people are often +severely tried by misfortune, but they always come out +of these struggles more pure, more strong, and more +respected."</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Two hours after the apprehension of Louise, the lapidary +and the old idiot mother were, by Rodolph's orders, +taken to the Bicêtre by David, where they were to be +kept in private rooms and to receive particular care. +Morel left the house in the Rue du Temple without +resistance; indifferent as he was, he went wherever they +led him,—his lunacy was gentle, inoffensive, and melancholy. +The grandmother was hungry, and when they +showed her bread and meat she followed the bread and +meat. The jewels of the lapidary, entrusted to his wife, +were the same day given to Madame Mathieu (the jewel-matcher), +who fetched them. Unfortunately she was +watched and followed by Tortillard, who knew the +value of the pretended false stones in consequence of +the conversation he had overheard during the time +Morel was arrested by the bailiffs. The son of Bras +Rouge discovered that she lived, Boulevard Saint-Denis, +No. 11.</p> + +<p>Rigolette apprised Madeleine Morel, with considerable +delicacy, of the fit of lunacy which had attacked the +lapidary, and of Louise's imprisonment. At first, Madeleine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +wept bitterly, and uttered terrible shrieks; then, +the first burst of her grief over, the poor creature, weak +and overcome, consoled herself as well as she could by +seeing that she and her children were surrounded by the +many comforts which she owed to the generosity of their +benefactor.</p> + +<p>As to Rodolph, his thoughts were very poignant when +he considered the disclosures of Louise. "Nothing is +more common," he said, "than this corrupting of the +female servant by the master, either by consent or +against it; sometimes by terror and surprise, sometimes +by the imperious nature of those relations which create +servitude. This depravity, descending from the rich to +the poor, despising (in its selfish desire) the sanctity of +the domestic hearth,—this depravity, still most deplorable +when it is voluntarily submitted to, becomes hideous, +frightful, when it is satisfied with violence. It is +an impure and brutal slavery, an ignoble and barbarous +tyranny over a fellow-creature, who in her fright replies +to the solicitations of her master by her tears, and to +his declarations with a shudder of fear and disgust. +And then," continued Rodolph, "what is the consequence +to the female? Almost invariably there follow degradation, +misery, prostitution, theft, and sometimes infanticide! +And yet the laws are, as yet, strangers to this +crime! Every accomplice of a crime has the punishment +of that crime; every receiver is considered as +guilty as the thief. That is justice. But when a man +wantonly seduces a young, innocent, and pure girl, renders +her a mother, abandons her, leaving her but shame, +disgrace, despair, and driving her, perchance, to infanticide, +a crime for which she forfeits her life, is this man +considered as her accomplice? Pooh! What, then, follows? +Oh, 'tis nothing,—nothing but a little love-affair! +the whim of the day for a pair of bright eyes. Then +she is left, and he looks out for the next. Still more, it +is just possible that the man may be of an original, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +inquisitive turn, perhaps, at the same time, an excellent +brother and son, and may go to the bar of the criminal +court and see his paramour tried for her life! If by +chance he should be subpœnaed as a witness, he may +amuse himself by saying to the persons desirous of having +the poor girl executed as soon as possible, for the +greater edification of the public morals, 'I have something +important to disclose to justice.' 'Speak!' 'Gentlemen +of the jury,—This unhappy female was pure and +virtuous, it is true. I seduced her,—that is equally true; +she bore me a child,—that is also true. After that, as +she has a light complexion, I completely forsook her for +a pretty brunette,—that is still more true; but, in doing +so, I have only followed out an imprescriptible right, a +sacred right which society recognizes and accords to me.' +'The truth is, this young man is perfectly in the right,' +the jury would say one to another; 'there is no law +which prevents a young man from seducing a fair girl, +and then forsaking her for a brunette; he is a gay young +chap, and that's all.' 'Now, gentlemen of the jury, this +unhappy girl is said to have killed her child,—I will say +our child,—because I abandoned her; because, finding +herself alone and in the deepest misery, she became +frightened, and lost her senses! And wherefore? Because +having, as she says, to bring up and feed her child, +it was impossible that she could continue to work regularly +at her occupation, and gain a livelihood for herself +and this pledge of our love! But I think these reasons +quite unworthy of consideration, allow me to say, gentlemen +of the jury. Could she not have gone to the Lying-in +Hospital, if there was room for her? Could she not, +at the critical moment, have gone to the magistrate of +her district and made a declaration of her shame, so that +she might have had authority for placing her child in the +Enfants Trouvés? In fact, could she not, whilst I was +playing billiards at the coffee-house, whilst awaiting my +other mistress, could she not have extricated herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +from this affair by some genteeler mode than this? For, +gentlemen of the jury, I will admit that I consider this +way of disposing of the pledge of our loves as rather too +unceremonious and rude, under the idea of thus quietly +escaping all future care and trouble. What, is it enough +for a young girl to lose her character, brave contempt, +infamy, and have an illegitimate child? No; but she +must also educate the child, take care of it, bring it up, +give it a business, and make an honest man of it, if it +be a boy, like its father; or an honest girl, who does not +turn wanton like her mother. For, really, maternity has +its sacred duties, and the wretches who trample them +under foot are unnatural mothers, who deserve an exemplary +and notable punishment; as a proof of which, +gentlemen of the jury, I beg you will unhesitatingly +hand over this miserable woman to the executioner, and +you will thus do your duty like independent, firm, and +enlightened citizens. <i>Dixi!</i>' 'This gentleman looks +at the question in a very moral point of view,' will say +some hatmaker or retired furrier, who is foreman of the +jury; 'he has done, i'faith, what we should all have done +in his place; for the girl is very pretty, though rather +pallid in complexion. This gay spark, as the song says:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'"Has kissed and has prattled with fifty fair maids,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And changed them as oft, do you see;"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and there is no law against that. As to this unfortunate +girl, after all, it is her own fault! Why did she not repulse +him? Then she would not have committed a +crime,—a monstrous crime! which really puts all society +to the blush.' And the hatter or the furrier would +be right,—perfectly right. What is there to criminate +this gentleman? Of what complicity, direct or indirect, +moral or material, can he be charged? This lucky rogue +has seduced a pretty girl, and he it is who has brought +her there; he does not deny it; where is the law that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +prevents or punishes him? Society merely says: There +are gay young fellows abroad,—let the pretty girls beware! +But if a poor wretch, through want or stupidity, +constraint, or ignorance of the laws which he cannot +read, buys knowingly a rag which has been stolen, he +will be sent to the galleys for twenty years as a receiver, +if such be the punishment for the theft itself. This is +logical, powerful reasoning,—'Without receivers there +would be no thieves, without thieves there would be no +receivers.' No, no more pity, then—even less pity—for +him who excites to the evil than he who perpetrates +it. Let the smallest degree of complicity be visited with +terrible punishment! Good; there is in that a serious +and fertile thought, high and moral. We should bow before +Society which had dictated such a law; but we remember +that this Society, so inexorable towards the smallest +complicity of crime against things, is so framed that a +simple and ingenuous man, who should try to prove that +there is at least moral similarity, material complicity, +between the fickle seducer and the seduced and forsaken +girl, would be laughed at as a visionary. And if this +simple man were to assert that without a father there +would, in all probability, not be offspring, Society would +exclaim against the atrocity,—the folly! And it would +be right,—quite right; for, after all, this gay youth who +might say these fine things to the jury, however little he +might like tragic emotions, might yet go tranquilly to see +his mistress executed,—executed for child-murder, a +crime to which he was an accessory; nay more, the +author, in consequence of his shameless abandonment! +Does not this charming protection, granted to the male +portion of society for certain gay doings suggested by +the god of Love, show plainly that France still sacrifices +to the Graces, and is still the most gallant nation +in the world?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h5>JACQUES FERRAND.</h5> + + +<p>At the period when the events were passing which +we are now relating, at one end of the Rue du Sentier +a long old wall extended, covered with a coat of whitewash, +and the top garnished with a row of broken flint-glass +bottles; this wall, bounding on one side the garden +of Jacques Ferrand, the notary, terminated with a <i>corps +de logis</i> facing the street, only one story high, with +garrets. Two large escutcheons of gilt copper, emblems +of the notarial residence, flanked the worm-eaten <i>porte +cochère</i>, of which the primitive colour was no longer to +be distinguished under the mud which covered it. This +entrance led to an open passage; on the right was the +lodge of an old porter, almost deaf, who was to the body +of tailors what M. Pipelet was to the body of boot-makers; +on the left a stable, used as a cellar, washhouse, +woodhouse, and the establishment of a rising +colony of rabbits belonging to the porter, who was +dissipating the sorrows of a recent widowhood by bringing +up these domestic animals. Beside the lodge was +the opening of a twisting staircase, narrow and dark, +leading to the office, as was announced to the clients by +a hand painted black, whose forefinger was directed +towards these words, also painted in black upon the +wall, "The Office on the first floor."</p> + +<p>On one side of a large paved court, overgrown with +grass, were empty stables; on the other side, a rusty +iron gate, which shut in the garden; at the bottom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +the pavilion, inhabited only by the notary. A flight of +eight or ten steps of disjointed stones, which were moss-grown +and time-worn, led to this square pavilion, consisting +of a kitchen and other underground offices, a +ground floor, a first floor, and the top rooms, in one of +which Louise had slept. The pavilion also appeared in +a state of great dilapidation. There were deep chinks +in the walls; the window-frames and outside blinds, +once painted gray, had become almost black by time; +the six windows on the first floor, looking out into the +courtyard, had no curtains; a sort of greasy and opaque +deposit covered the glass; on the ground floor there +were visible through the window-panes more transparent, +faded yellow cotton curtains, with red bindings.</p> + +<p>On the garden side the pavilion had only four windows. +The garden, overgrown with parasitical plants, +seemed wholly neglected. There was no flower border, +not a bush; a clump of elms; five or six large green +trees; some acacias and elder-trees; a yellowish grass-plat, +half destroyed by moss and the scorch of the sun; +muddy paths, choked up with weeds; at the bottom, a +sort of half cellar; for horizon, the high, naked, gray +walls of the adjacent houses, having here and there +skylights barred like prison windows,—such was the +miserable appearance of the garden and dwelling of +the notary.</p> + +<p>To this appearance, or rather reality, M. Ferrand +attached great importance. In the eyes of the vulgar, +carelessness about comfort almost always passes for +disinterestedness; dirt, for austerity. Comparing the +vast financial luxury of some notaries, or the costly +toilets of their wives, to the dull abode of M. Ferrand, +so opposed to elegance, expense, or splendour, clients +felt a sort of respect for, or rather blind confidence in, a +man who, according to his large practice and the fortune +attributed to him, could say, like many of his professional +brethren, my carriage, my evening party, my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +country-house, my box at the opera, etc. But, far +from this, Jacques Ferrand lived with rigid economy; +and thus deposits, investments, powers of attorney, in +fact, all matters of trust and business requiring the most +scrupulous and recognised integrity, accumulated in his +hands.</p> + +<p>Living thus meanly as he did, the notary lived in the +way he liked. He detested the world, show, dearly +purchased pleasures; and, even had it been otherwise, +he would unhesitatingly have sacrificed his dearest +inclinations to the appearances which he found it so +profitable to assume.</p> + +<p>A word or two on the character of the man. He +was one of the children of the large family of misers. +Misers are generally exhibited in a ridiculous and whimsical +light; the worst do not go beyond egotism or +harshness. The greater portion increase their fortune +by continually investing; some (they are but few) lend +at thirty per cent.; the most decided hardly venture any +risk with their means; but it is almost an unheard-of +thing for a miser to proceed to crime, even murder, in +the acquisition of fresh wealth.</p> + +<p>That is easily accounted for; avarice is especially a +negative passion. The miser, in his incessant calculations, +thinks more of becoming richer by not disbursing; +in tightening around him, more and more, the limits of +strict necessity, than he does of enriching himself at the +cost of another; he is especially the martyr to preservation. +Weak, timid, cunning, distrustful, and, above all, +prudent and circumspect, never offensive, indifferent to +the ills of his neighbour,—the miser at least never +alludes to these ills,—he is, before all and above all, the +man of certainty and surety; or, rather, he is only a +miser because he believes only in the substantial, the +hard gold which he has locked up in his chest. Speculations +and loans, on even undoubted security, tempt him +but little, for, how improbable soever it may be, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +always offer a chance of loss, and he prefers rather to +lose the interest of his money than expose his capital. +A man so timorous will, therefore, seldom have the +savage energy of the wretch who risks the galleys or +his neck to lay hands on the wealth of another.</p> + +<p>Risk is a word erased from the vocabulary of the +miser. It is in this sense that Jacques Ferrand was, let +us say, a very singular exception, perhaps a new variety +of the genus Miser; for Jacques Ferrand did risk, and a +great deal. He relied on his craft, which was excessive; +on his hypocrisy, which was unbounded; on his intellect, +which was elastic and fertile; on his boldness, which +was devilish, in assuring him impunity for his crimes, +and they were already numerous.</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand was a twofold exception. Usually +these adventurous, energetic spirits, which do not recoil +before any crime that will procure gold, are beset by +turbulent passions—gaming, dissipation, gluttony, or +other pleasures. Jacques Ferrand knew none of these +violent and stormy desires; cunning and patient as a +forger, cruel and resolute as an assassin, he was as sober +and regular as Harpagon. One passion alone was active +within him, and this we have seen too fatally exhibited +in his early conduct to Louise. The loan of thirteen +hundred francs to Morel at high interest was, in +Ferrand's hands, a snare—a means of oppression and +a source of profit. Sure of the lapidary's honesty, he +was certain of being repaid in full some day or other. +Still Louise's beauty must have made a deep impression +on him to have made him lay out of a sum of money +so advantageously placed.</p> + +<p>Except this weakness, Jacques Ferrand loved gold +only. He loved gold for gold's sake; not for the enjoyments +it procured,—he was a stoic; not for the enjoyments +it might procure,—he was not sufficiently poetical +to enjoy speculatively, like some misers. With regard to +what belonged to himself, he loved possession for possession's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +sake; with regard to what belonged to others, if +it concerned a large deposit, for instance, liberally confided +to his probity only, he experienced in returning +this deposit the same agony, the same despair, as the +goldsmith, Cardillac, did in separating himself from a +casket of jewels which his own exquisite taste had fashioned +into a <i>chef-d'œuvre</i> of art. With the notary, his +character for extreme probity was his <i>chef-d'œuvre</i> of +art; a deposit was to him a jewel, which he could not +surrender but with poignant regrets. What care, what +cunning, what stratagems, what skill, in a word, what +art, did he use to attract this sum into his own strong +box, still maintaining that extreme character for honour, +which was beset with the most precious marks of confidence, +like the pearls and diamonds in the golden +diadems of Cardillac. The more this celebrated goldsmith +approached perfection, they say, the more value +did he attach to his ornaments, always considering the +last as his <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>, and being utterly distressed at +giving it up. The more Jacques Ferrand grew perfect +in crime, the more he clung to the open and constant +marks of confidence which were showered upon him, +always considering his last deceit as his <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>.</p> + +<p>We shall see in the sequel of this history that, by the +aid of certain means really prodigious in plan and carrying +out, he contrived to appropriate to himself, with +impunity, several very considerable sums. His secret +and mysterious life gave him incessant and terrible +emotions, such as gaming gives to the gambler. Against +all other men's fortunes Jacques Ferrand staked his +hypocrisy, his boldness, his head; and he played on +velvet, as it is called, far out of the reach of human +justice, which he vulgarly and energetically characterised +as a chimney which might fall on one's head; for him +to lose was only not to gain; and, moreover, he was +so criminally gifted that, in his bitter irony, he saw a +continued gain in boundless esteem, the unlimited confidence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +which he inspired, not only in a multitude of +rich clients, but also in the smaller tradespeople and +workmen of his district. A great many of these placed +their money with him, saying, "He is not charitable, it +is true; he is a devotee, and that's a pity; but he is +much safer than the government or the savings-banks." +In spite of his uncommon ability, this man had committed +two of those mistakes from which the most +skilful rogues do not always escape; forced by circumstances, +it is true, he had associated with himself two +accomplices. This immense fault, as he called it, had +been in part repaired; neither of his two associates +could destroy him without destroying themselves, and +neither would have reaped from denunciation any other +profit but of drawing down justice on themselves as well +as on the notary; on this score he was quite easy. +Besides, he was not at the end of his crimes, and the +disadvantages of accompliceship were balanced by the +criminal aid which at times he still obtained.</p> + +<p>A few words as to the personal appearance of M. +Ferrand, and we will introduce the reader into the +notary's study, where we shall encounter some of +the principal personages in this recital.</p> + +<p>M. Ferrand was fifty years of age, but did not appear +forty; he was of middle height, with broad and stooping +shoulders, powerful, thickset, strong-limbed, red-haired, +and naturally as hirsute as a bear. His hair was flat +on his temples, his forehead bald, his eyebrows scarcely +perceptible; his bilious complexion was almost concealed +by innumerable red spots, and, when strong emotion +agitated him, his yellow and murky countenance was +injected with blood, and became a livid red. His face +was as flat as a death's head, as is vulgarly said; his +nose thick and flat; his lips so thin, so imperceptible, +that his mouth seemed incised in his face, and, when he +smiled with his villainous and revolting air, his teeth +seemed as though supplied by black and rotten fangs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +His pallid face had an expression at once austere and +devout, impassible and inflexible, cold and reflective; +whilst his small, black, animated, peering, and restless +eyes were lost behind large green spectacles.</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand saw admirably well; but, sheltered +by his glasses, he had an immense advantage; he could +observe without being observed; and well he knew how +often a glance is unwittingly full of meaning. In spite +of his imperturbable audacity, he had met twice or +thrice in his life certain potent and magnetic looks, +before which his own had compulsorily been lowered; +and in some important circumstances it is fatal to lower +the eyes before the man who interrogates, accuses, or +judges you. The large spectacles of M. Ferrand were +thus a kind of covert retrenchment, whence he could +reconnoitre and observe every movement of the enemy; +and all the world was the notary's enemy, because all +the world was, more or less, his dupe; and accusers are +but enlightened or disgusted dupes. He affected a negligence +in his dress almost amounting to dirtiness, or +rather, he was naturally so; his chin shaven only every +two or three days, his grimy and wrinkled head, his +broad nails encircled in black, his unpleasant odour, +his threadbare coat, his greasy hat, his coarse neckcloth, +his black-worsted stockings, his clumsy shoes, all curiously +betokened his worthiness with his clients, by +giving him an air of disregard of the world, and an +air of practical philosophy, which delighted them.</p> + +<p>They said: "What tastes, what passions, what feelings, +what weaknesses, must the notary sacrifice to +obtain the confidence he inspires! He gains, perhaps, +sixty thousand francs (2,400<i>l.</i>) a year, and his household +consists of a servant and an old housekeeper. His only +pleasure is to go on Sundays to mass and vespers, and +he knows no opera comparable to the grave chanting of +the organ, no worldly society which is worth an evening +quietly passed at his fireside corner with the curé of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +parish after a frugal dinner; in fine, he places his enjoyment +in probity, his pride in honour, his happiness in +religion."</p> + +<p>Such was the opinion of the contemporaries of M. +Jacques Ferrand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<h5>THE OFFICE.</h5> + + +<p>The office of M. Ferrand resembled all other offices, +and his clerks all other clerks. It was approached +through an antechamber, furnished with four old chairs. +In the office, properly so-called, surrounded by rows of +shelves, ornamented with pasteboard boxes, containing +the papers of the clients of M. Ferrand, five young men, +stooping over black wooden desks, were laughing, gossiping, +or scribbling perpetually. A waiting-room, also +filled with pasteboard boxes, and in which the chief +clerk was constantly stationed, and another room, which, +for greater secrecy, was kept unoccupied, between the +notary's private room and the waiting-room, completed +the total of this laboratory of deeds of every description.</p> + +<p>An old cuckoo-clock, placed between the two windows +of the office, had just struck two o'clock, and a certain +bustle prevailed amongst the clerks; a part of their conversation +will inform the reader as to the cause of this +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Well, if any one had told me that François Germain +was a thief," said one of the young men, "I should have +said, 'That's a lie!'"</p> + +<p>"So should I."</p> + +<p>"And I."</p> + +<p>"And I. It really quite affected me to see him arrested +and led away by the police. I could not eat any breakfast; +but I have been rewarded by not having to eat the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +daily mess doled out by Mother Séraphin, for, as the +song goes:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'To eat the allowance of old Séraphin,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One must have a twist indeed.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Capital! why, Chalamel, you are beginning your +poetry already."</p> + +<p>"I demand Chalamel's head!"</p> + +<p>"Folly apart, it is very terrible for poor Germain."</p> + +<p>"Seventeen thousand francs (680<i>l.</i>) is a lump of +money!"</p> + +<p>"I believe you!"</p> + +<p>"And yet, for the fifteen months that Germain has +been cashier, he was never a farthing deficient in making +up his books."</p> + +<p>"I think the governor was wrong to arrest Germain, +for the poor fellow swore that he had only taken thirteen +hundred francs (52<i>l.</i>) in gold, and that, moreover, he +brought back the thirteen hundred francs this morning, +to return them to the money-chest, at the very moment +when our master sent for the police."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the bore of people of such ferocious +honesty as our governor, they have no pity!"</p> + +<p>"But they ought to think twice before they ruin a +poor young fellow, who, up to this time, has behaved +with strict honesty."</p> + +<p>"M. Ferrand said he did it for an example."</p> + +<p>"Example? What? It is none to the honest, and +the dishonest know well enough what they expose themselves +to if they are found out in any delinquencies."</p> + +<p>"Our house seems to produce lots of jobs for the +police officers."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, this morning there was poor little Louise, and +now poor Germain."</p> + +<p>"I confess that Germain's affair was not quite clear +to me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But he confessed?"</p> + +<p>"He confessed that he had taken thirteen hundred +francs, certainly; but he declared most vehemently that +he had not taken the other fifteen thousand francs in +bank-notes, and the other seven hundred francs which +are short in the strong box."</p> + +<p>"True; and, if he confessed one thing, why shouldn't +he confess another?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly so; for a man is as much punished for five +hundred francs as he is for fifteen thousand francs."</p> + +<p>"Yes; only they retain the fifteen thousand francs, +and, when they leave prison, this forms a little fund to +start upon; and, as the swan of Cambrai sings:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'To get a jolly lot of "swag"<br /></span> +<span class="i0h">A cove must dip deep in the lucky-bag.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I demand Chalamel's head!"</p> + +<p>"Can't you talk sense for five minutes?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, here's Jabulot! won't he be astonished?"</p> + +<p>"What at, my boys? what at? Anything fresh about +poor Louise?"</p> + +<p>"You would have known, roving blade, if you had not +been so long in your rounds."</p> + +<p>"What, you think it is but a step from here to the +Rue de Chaillot?"</p> + +<p>"I never said so."</p> + +<p>"Well, what about that gallant don, the famous +Viscount de Saint-Rémy?"</p> + +<p>"Has he not been here yet?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, his horses were harnessed, and he sent me +word by his <i>valet de chambre</i>, that he would come here +directly. But he didn't seem best pleased, the servant +said. Oh, my boys! such a lovely little house, furnished +most magnificently, like one of the dwellings of the +olden time that Faublas writes about. Oh, Faublas! he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +is my hero—my model!" said the clerk, putting down +his umbrella and taking off his clogs.</p> + +<p>"You are right, Jabulot; for, as that sublime old blind +man, Homer, said:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Faublas, that amorous hero, it is said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0h">Forsook the duchess for the waiting-maid.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Yes; but then, she was a theatrical 'waiting-maid,' +my lads."</p> + +<p>"I demand Chalamel's head!"</p> + +<p>"But about this Viscount de Saint-Rémy? Jabulot +says his mansion is superb."</p> + +<p>"Pyramidic!"</p> + +<p>"Then, I'll be bound, he has debts not a few, and +arrests to match, this viscount."</p> + +<p>"A bill of thirty-four thousand francs (1,360<i>l.</i>) has +been sent here by the officer. It is made payable at the +office. This is his creditors' doing; I don't know why +or wherefore."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say that this dandy viscount would +pay now, because he came from the country last night, +where he has been concealed these three days, in order +to escape from the bailiffs."</p> + +<p>"How is it, then, that they have not seized the furniture +already?"</p> + +<p>"Why? oh, he's too cunning! The house is not his +own; all the furniture is in the name of his <i>valet de +chambre</i>, who is said to let it to him furnished; and, in the +same way, his horses and carriages are in his coachman's +name, who declares that he lets to the viscount his +splendid turn-out at so much a month. Ah, he's a +'downy' one, is M. de Saint-Rémy! But what were +you going to tell me? what has happened here fresh?"</p> + +<p>"Why, imagine the governor coming in here two hours +ago in a most awful passion. 'Germain is not here?' +he exclaimed. 'No, sir.' 'Well, the rascal has robbed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +me last night of seventeen thousand francs!' says the +governor."</p> + +<p>"Germain—rob—ah, come, that's 'no go!'"</p> + +<p>"You will hear. 'What, sir, are you sure? but it +cannot be,' we all cried out. 'I tell you, gentlemen,' +said the governor, 'that yesterday I put in the drawer +of the bureau at which he writes, fifteen notes of one +thousand francs each, and two thousand francs in gold, +in a little box, and it is all gone.' At this moment old +Marriton, the porter, came in, and he said, 'Sir, the +police are coming; where is Germain?' 'Wait a bit,' +said the governor to the porter; 'as soon as M. Germain +returns, send him into the office, without saying a word. +I will confront him before you all, gentlemen,' said the +governor. At the end of a quarter of an hour in comes +poor Germain, as if nothing had happened. Old Mother +Séraphin had brought in our morning mess. Germain +made his bow to the governor, and wished us all 'good +morning,' as usual. 'Germain, don't you take your +breakfast?' inquired M. Ferrand. 'No, thank you, sir, +I am not hungry.' 'You're very late this morning.' +'Yes, sir; I was obliged to go to Belleville this morning.' +'No doubt to hide the money you have stolen from me!' +M. Ferrand said, in a terrible voice."</p> + +<p>"And Germain?"</p> + +<p>"The poor fellow turned as pale as death, and stammered +out, 'Pray—pray, sir, do not ruin me—'"</p> + +<p>"What! he had stolen—"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Jabulot: 'Do not ruin me,' says he to the +governor. 'What! you confess it, then, you villain?' +'Yes, sir; but here is the money; I thought I could +replace it before you came into the office this morning; +but, unfortunately, a person who had a small sum of +mine, and whom I expected to find at home last night, +had been at Belleville these two days, and I was compelled +to go there this morning; that made me late. +Pray, sir, forgive me,—do not destroy me! When I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +took the money I knew I could return it this morning; +and here are the thirteen hundred francs in gold.' +'What do you mean by thirteen hundred francs?' exclaimed +M. Ferrand; 'what's the use of talking of +thirteen hundred francs? You have stolen, from the +bureau in my room, fifteen thousand francs that were in +a green pocket-book, and two thousand francs in gold.' +'I? Never!' cried poor Germain, quite aghast. 'I +took thirteen hundred francs in gold, but not a farthing +more. I did not even see the pocket-book in the drawer; +there were only two thousand francs, in gold, in a box.' +'Oh, shameless liar!' cried the governor; 'you confess +to having plundered thirteen hundred francs, and may +just as well have stolen more; that will be for the law +to decide. I shall be without mercy for such an infamous +breach of trust; you shall be an example.' In +fact, my dear Jabulot, the police came in at that +moment, with the commissary's chief clerk, to draw +up the depositions, and they laid hands on poor +Germain; and that's all about it."</p> + +<p>"Really, you do surprise me! I feel as if some one +had given me a thump on the head. Germain—Germain, +who seemed such an honest fellow,—a chap +to whom one would have given absolution without +confession."</p> + +<p>"I should say that he had some presentiment of his +misfortune."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"For some days past he seemed to have something on +his mind."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps about Louise."</p> + +<p>"Louise?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I only repeat what Mother Séraphin said this +morning."</p> + +<p>"What did she say?"</p> + +<p>"What? that he was Louise's lover, and the father of +her child."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sly dog! Do you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Why—why—why—"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! pooh!"</p> + +<p>"That's not the case."</p> + +<p>"How do you know, Master Jabulot?"</p> + +<p>"Because it is not a fortnight ago that Germain told +me, in confidence, that he was over head and ears in +love with a little needle-woman, a very correct lass, +whom he had known in the house where he lived; and, +when he talked of her, the tears came in his eyes."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jabulot, you are getting quite poetical."</p> + +<p>"He says Faublas is his hero, and he is not 'wide +awake' enough to know that a man may be in love with +one woman and a lover of another at the same time; +for, as the tender Fénélon says, in his Instructions to +the Duke of Burgundy:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'A spicy blade, of the right cock-feather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0h">May love a blonde and brunette together.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I demand Chalamel's head!"</p> + +<p>"I tell you that Germain spoke in earnest."</p> + +<p>At this moment the head clerk entered the office.</p> + +<p>"Well, M. Jabulot," said he, "have you completed +your rounds?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. Dubois; I have been to M. de Saint-Remy, +and he will come and pay immediately."</p> + +<p>"And as to the Countess Macgregor?"</p> + +<p>"Here is her answer."</p> + +<p>"And the Countess d'Orbigny?"</p> + +<p>"She returns her compliments to our employer. She +only arrived from Normandy yesterday morning, and did +not know that her reply was required so soon; here is +a note from her. I also called on the Marquis d'Harville's +steward, as he desired me to receive the money +for drawing up the contract which I witnessed at their +house the other day."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You should have told him there was no hurry."</p> + +<p>"I did, but the steward insisted on paying. Here is +the money. Oh! I had almost forgotten to say, M. +Badinot said that M. Ferrand had better do as they +had agreed; it was the best thing to do."</p> + +<p>"He did not write an answer?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; he said he had not time."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"M. Charles Robert will come in the course of the +morning to speak to our master. It seems that he +fought a duel yesterday with the Duke de Lucenay."</p> + +<p>"And is he wounded?"</p> + +<p>"I think not, or else they would have told me so at +the house."</p> + +<p>"Hark! there's a carriage stopping at the door."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what fine horses! how full of spirits they +are!"</p> + +<p>"And that fat English coachman, with his white wig, +and brown livery striped with silver, and his epaulettes +like a colonel!"</p> + +<p>"It must be some ambassador's."</p> + +<p>"And the <i>chasseur</i>, look how he is bedizened all over +with silver!"</p> + +<p>"And what moustachios!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Jabulot, "it is the Viscount de Saint-Remy's +carriage!"</p> + +<p>"What! is that the way he does it? Oh, my!"</p> + +<p>Soon after the Viscount de Saint-Remy entered the +office.</p> + +<p>We have already described the handsome appearance, +elegance of style, and aristocratical demeanour of M. de +Saint-Remy, when he was on his way to the farm of +Arnouville (the estate of Madame de Lucenay), where +he had found a retreat from the pursuit of the bailiffs, +Malicorne and Bourdin. The viscount, who entered +unceremoniously into the office, with his hat on his +head, a haughty and disdainful look, and his eyes half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +closed, asked, with an air of extreme superciliousness, +and without looking at anybody:</p> + +<p>"Where is the notary?"</p> + +<p>"M. Ferrand is engaged in his private room," said the +chief clerk. "If you will please to wait a moment, sir, he +will see you."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by wait a moment?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir—"</p> + +<p>"There is no why in the case, sir. Go and tell him +that M. de Saint-Remy is here; and I am much surprised +that this notary should make me dance attendance in his +waiting-room. It is really most annoying."</p> + +<p>"Will you walk into this side room, sir?" said the +chief clerk, "and I will inform M. Ferrand this instant."</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy shrugged his shoulders, and followed +the head clerk. At the end of a quarter of an hour, +which seemed very tedious to him, and which converted +his spleen into anger, the viscount was introduced into +the notary's private apartment.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be more striking than the contrast +between these two men, both of them profound physiognomists, +and habituated to judge at a glance of the persons +with whom they had business. M. de Saint-Remy +saw Jacques Ferrand for the first time, and was struck +with the expression of his pallid, harsh, and impassive +features,—the look concealed by the large green spectacles; +the skull half hid beneath an old black silk cap. +The notary was seated at his writing-desk, in a leathern +armchair, beside a low fireplace, almost choked up with +ashes, and in which were two black and smoking logs of +wood. Curtains of green cotton, almost in rags, hung +on small iron rings at the windows, and, concealing the +lower window-panes, threw over the room, which was +naturally dark, a livid and unpleasant hue. Shelves of +black wood were filled with deed-boxes, all duly labelled. +Some cherry-wood chairs, covered with threadbare Utrecht +velvet; a clock in a mahogany case; a floor yellow, damp,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +and chilling; a ceiling full of cracks, and festooned with +spiders' webs,—such was the <i>sanctum sanctorum</i> of M. +Jacques Ferrand. Hardly had the viscount made two +steps into his cabinet, or spoken a word, than the notary, +who knew him by reputation, conceived an intense antipathy +towards him. In the first place, he saw in him, if +we may say so, a rival in rogueries; and then he hated +elegance, grace, and youth in other persons, and more +especially when these advantages were attended with an +air of insolent superiority. The notary usually assumed +a tone of rude and almost coarse abruptness with his +clients, who liked him the better for being in behaviour +like a boor of the Danube. He made up his mind to +double this brutality towards M. de Saint-Remy, who, only +knowing the notary by report also, expected to find an +attorney either familiar or a fool; for the viscount +always imagined men of such probity as M. Ferrand +had the reputation for, as having an exterior almost +ridiculous, but, so far from this, the countenance and +appearance of the attorney at law struck the viscount +with an undefinable feeling,—half fear, half aversion. +Consequently, his own resolute character made M. de +Saint-Remy increase his usual impertinence and effrontery. +The notary kept his cap on his head, and the viscount +did not doff his hat, but exclaimed, as he entered the +room, with a loud and imperative tone:</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardieu</i>, sir! it is very strange that you should give +me the trouble to come here, instead of sending to my +house for the money for the bills I accepted from the man +Badinot, and for which the fellow has issued execution +against me. It is true you tell me that you have also +another very important communication to make to me; +but then, surely, that is no excuse for making me wait +for half an hour in your antechamber: it is really most +annoying, sir!"</p> + +<p>M. Ferrand, quite unmoved, finished a calculation he +was engaged in, wiped his pen methodically in a moist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +sponge which encircled his inkstand of cracked earthenware, +and raised towards the viscount his icy, earthy, +flat face, shaded by his spectacles. He looked like a +death's head in which the eye-holes had been replaced +by large, fixed, staring green eyeballs. After having +looked at the viscount for a moment or two, the notary +said to him, in a harsh and abrupt tone:</p> + +<p>"Where's the money?"</p> + +<p>This coolness exasperated M. de Saint-Rémy.</p> + +<p>He—he, the idol of the women, the envy of the men, +the model of the first society in Paris, the dreaded duellist—produced +no effect on a wretched attorney-at-law! +It was horrid; and, although he was only <i>tête-à-tête</i> with +Jacques Ferrand, his pride revolted.</p> + +<p>"Where are the bills?" inquired the viscount, abruptly.</p> + +<p>With the point of one of his fingers, as hard as iron, +and covered with red hair, the notary rapped on a large +leathern pocket-book which lay close beside him. Resolved +on being as laconic, although trembling with rage, +M. de Saint-Remy took from the pocket of his upper +coat a Russian leather pocket-book, with gold clasps, from +which he drew forth forty notes of a thousand francs +each, and showed them to the notary.</p> + +<p>"How many are there?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Forty thousand francs."</p> + +<p>"Hand them to me!"</p> + +<p>"Take them! and let this have a speedy termination. +Ply your trade, pay yourself, and give me the bills," said +the viscount, as he threw the notes on the table, with an +impatient air.</p> + +<p>The notary took up the bank-notes, rose, went close +to the window to examine them, turning and re-turning +them over and over, one by one, with an attention so +scrupulous, and really so insulting for M. de Saint-Rémy, +that the viscount actually turned pale with rage. Jacques +Ferrand, as if he had guessed the thoughts which were +passing in the viscount's mind, shook his head, turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +half towards him, and said to him, with an indefinable +accent:</p> + +<p>"I have seen—"</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy, confused for a moment, said, drily:</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Forged bank-notes," replied the notary, continuing +his scrutiny of a note, which he had not yet examined.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that remark, sir?"</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand paused for a moment, looked steadfastly +at the viscount through his glasses, then, shrugging +his shoulders slightly, he continued to investigate the +notes, without uttering a syllable.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Notary! I would wish you to learn that, +when I ask a question, I have an answer!" cried M. de +Saint-Remy, exasperated at the coolness of Jacques +Ferrand.</p> + +<p>"These notes are good," said the notary, turning +towards his bureau, whence he took a small bundle of +stamped papers, to which were annexed two bills of exchange; +then, putting down one of the bank-notes for +one thousand francs and three rouleaus, of one hundred +francs each, on the table, he said to M. de Saint-Remy, +pointing to the money and the bills with his finger:</p> + +<p>"Here's your change out of the forty thousand francs; +my client has desired me to deduct the expenses."</p> + +<p>The viscount had contained himself with great difficulty +whilst Jacques Ferrand was making out the +account, and, instead of taking up the money, he exclaimed, +in a voice that literally shook with passion:</p> + +<p>"I beg to know, sir, what you meant by saying, whilst +you looked at the bank-notes which I handed to you, +that you 'had seen forged notes?'"</p> + +<p>"What I meant?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Because I sent for you to come here on a matter of +forgery."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the notary fixed his green spectacles on the +viscount.</p> + +<p>"And how can this forgery in any way affect me?"</p> + +<p>After a moment's silence, M. Ferrand said to the +viscount, with a stern air:</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, sir, of the duties which a notary +fulfils?"</p> + +<p>"Those duties appear to me, sir, very simple indeed; +just now I had forty thousand francs, now I have +thirteen hundred francs left."</p> + +<p>"You are facetious, sir; I will tell you that a notary +is, in temporal matters, what a confessor is in spiritual +affairs; by virtue of his position, he often becomes +possessed of disgraceful secrets."</p> + +<p>"Go on, I beg, sir."</p> + +<p>"He is often brought into contact with rogues."</p> + +<p>"Go on, sir."</p> + +<p>"He ought, as well as he can, to prevent an honourable +name from being dragged through the mud."</p> + +<p>"What is all this to me?"</p> + +<p>"Your father's name is deservedly respected; you, +sir, dishonour it."</p> + +<p>"How dare you, sir, to address such language +to me?"</p> + +<p>"But for the interest which the gentleman, of whom +I speak, inspires in the minds of all honest men, instead +of being summoned before me, you would, at this +moment, be standing before a police-magistrate."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you."</p> + +<p>"Two months since, you discounted, through an +agent, a bill for fifty-eight thousand francs (2,320<i>l.</i>), +accepted by the house of Meulaert & Company, of +Hamburg, in favour of a certain William Smith, payable +in three months, at the bank of M. Grimaldi, of Paris."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"That bill was a forgery."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That bill was a forgery! the firm of Meulaert never +gave such a bill to William Smith, and never had such a +transaction with such an individual."</p> + +<p>"Can this be true?" exclaimed M. de Saint-Rémy, +with equal surprise and indignation; "then I have been +most infamously deceived, sir, for I took the bill as +ready money."</p> + +<p>"From whom?"</p> + +<p>"From M. William Smith himself; the house of +Meulaert is so well known, and I was so firmly convinced +myself of the honour of M. William Smith, that +I took the bill in payment of a debt he owed me."</p> + +<p>"William Smith never existed,—he is an imaginary +personage."</p> + +<p>"Sir, you insult me!"</p> + +<p>"His signature is forged and false, as well as all the +rest of the bill."</p> + +<p>"I assert that M. William Smith is alive; but I must +have been the dupe of a horrible abuse of confidence."</p> + +<p>"Poor young man!"</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself, sir."</p> + +<p>"The actual holder of the bill is convinced you +committed the forgery."</p> + +<p>"Sir!"</p> + +<p>"He declares that he has proof of this; and he came +to me the day before yesterday, requesting me to see +you, and offer to give up this forged document, under +certain conditions. Up to this point all was straightforward, +but what follows is not so, and I only speak to +you now according to my instructions. He requires one +hundred thousand francs (4,000<i>l.</i>) down this very day, +or else to-morrow, at twelve o'clock at noon, the forged +bill will be handed over to the king's attorney-general."</p> + +<p>"This is infamous, sir!"</p> + +<p>"It is more,—it is absurd. You are a ruined man; +you were all but arrested for the sum which you have +just paid me, and which you have scraped up I cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +tell from where; and this I have told to the holder of +the bill, who replied, that a certain great and very +rich lady would not allow you to remain in this +embarrassment."</p> + +<p>"Enough, sir! enough!"</p> + +<p>"More infamous! more absurd! agreed."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, and what is required of me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to work out infamously an action infamously +commenced. I have consented to communicate this proposition +to you, although it disgusts me, as an honest man +ought to feel disgust on such an occasion; but now it +is your affair. If you are guilty, choose between a criminal +court and the means of ransom offered to you; my +duty is only an official one, and I will not dirty my +fingers any further in so foul a transaction. The third +party is called M. Petit-Jean, an oil merchant, who lives +on the banks of the Seine, Quai de Billy, No. 10. Make +your arrangements with him; you are fit to meet if you +are a forger, as he declares."</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy had entered Jacques Ferrand's +study with a lip all scorn, and a head all pride. +Although he had in his life committed some shameful +actions, he still retained a certain elevation of +race, and an instinctive courage, which had never forsaken +him. At the beginning of this conversation, +considering the notary as an adversary beneath him, +he had been content to treat him with disdain; but, +when Jacques Ferrand began to talk of forgery, he felt +annihilated; in his turn he felt himself rode over by +the notary. But for the entire command of self which +he possessed, he could not have concealed the terrible +impression which this unexpected revelation disclosed +to him, for it might have incalculable consequences to +him,—consequences unsuspected by the notary himself. +After a moment of silence and reflection, he resigned +himself,—he, so haughty, so irritable, so vain of his +self-possession!—to beg of this coarse man, who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +so roughly addressed to him the stern language of +probity:</p> + +<p>"Sir, you give me a proof of your interest, for which +I thank you, and I regret that any hasty expressions +should have escaped me," said M. de Saint-Remy, with +a tone of cordiality.</p> + +<p>"I do not take the slightest interest in or for you," +replied the notary, brutally. "Your father is the soul +of honour, and I would not wish that in the depth of +that solitude in which he lives, as they tell me, at +Angers, he should learn that his name has been exposed, +tarnished, degraded, in a court of justice, that's all."</p> + +<p>"I repeat to you, sir, that I am incapable of the +infamy which is attributed to me."</p> + +<p>"You may tell that to M. Petit-Jean."</p> + +<p>"But I confess that, in the absence of M. Smith, who +has so unworthily abused my confidence, that—"</p> + +<p>"The scoundrel Smith!"</p> + +<p>"The absence of M. Smith places me in a cruel embarrassment. +I am innocent,—let them accuse me, I +will prove myself guiltless; but such an accusation, even, +must always disgrace a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Be so good as to use the sum I have just handed +to you in part payment to the person who holds the +acceptance."</p> + +<p>"That money belongs to a client and is sacred."</p> + +<p>"In two or three days I will repay you."</p> + +<p>"You will not be able."</p> + +<p>"I have resources."</p> + +<p>"You have none; not visible at least. Your household +furniture, your horses, do not belong to you, as you +declare; this has to me the appearance of a disgraceful +fraud."</p> + +<p>"You are severe, sir; but, admitting what you say, do +you not suppose that I shall turn everything into money +in such a desperate extremity? Only, as it will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +impossible for me to procure, between this and noon to-morrow, +the one hundred thousand francs, I entreat you +to employ the money I have just handed to you in +procuring this unfortunate bill, or, at least, as you are +very rich, advance the money. Do not leave me in such +a position."</p> + +<p>"Me? Why, is the man mad?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, I beseech you, in my father's name, which you +have mentioned to me, be so kind as to—"</p> + +<p>"I am kind to those who deserve it," said the notary, +harshly. "An honest man myself, I hate swindlers, and +should not be sorry to see one of those high-minded +gentlemen, without faith or honour, impious and reprobate, +put in the pillory, as an example to others; but I +hear your horses, who are impatient to depart, M. le +Vicomte," said the notary, with a smile that displayed +his black fangs.</p> + +<p>At this moment some one knocked at the door of the +apartment.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" inquired Jacques Ferrand.</p> + +<p>"Madame the Countess d'Orbigny," said the chief +clerk.</p> + +<p>"Request her to wait a moment."</p> + +<p>"The stepmother of the Marchioness d'Harville?" +exclaimed M. de Saint-Remy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; she has an appointment with me,—so, +your servant, sir."</p> + +<p>"Not a word of this, sir!" cried M. de Saint-Remy, +in a menacing voice.</p> + +<p>"I told you, sir, that a notary is as discreet as a +confessor."</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand rang, and the clerk appeared.</p> + +<p>"Show Madame d'Orbigny in." Then, addressing +the viscount, "Take these thirteen hundred francs, sir; +they will be something towards an arrangement with +M. Petit-Jean."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Orbigny (formerly Madame Roland) entered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +at the moment when M. de Saint-Remy went out, +his features convulsed with rage at having so uselessly +humiliated himself before the notary.</p> + +<p>"Ah, good day, M. de Saint-Remy," said Madame +d'Orbigny; "what a time it is since I saw you!"</p> + +<p>"Why, madame, since D'Harville's marriage, at which +I was present, I do not think I have had the pleasure of +meeting you," said M. de Saint-Remy, bowing, and +assuming an affable and smiling demeanour. "You +have remained in Normandy ever since, I think?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes! M. d'Orbigny will only live in the +country, and what he likes I like; so you see in me a +complete country wife. I have not been in Paris since +the marriage of my dear stepdaughter with that excellent +M. d'Harville. Do you see him frequently?"</p> + +<p>"D'Harville has grown very sullen and morose; he is +seldom seen in the world," said M. de Saint-Remy, with +something like impatience, for the conversation was +most irksome to him, both because of its untimeliness +and that the notary seemed amused at it; but Madame +d'Harville's stepmother, enchanted at thus meeting with +a dandy of the first water, was not the woman to allow +her prey to escape her so easily.</p> + +<p>"And my dear stepdaughter," she continued,—"she, +I hope, is not as morose as her husband?"</p> + +<p>"Madame d'Harville is all the fashion, and has the +world at her feet, as a lovely woman should have. But +I take up your time, and—"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, I assure you. It is quite agreeable to me +to meet the 'observed of all observers,'—the monarch +of fashion,—for, in ten minutes, I shall be as <i>au +fait</i> of Paris as if I had never left it. And your dear +M. de Lucenay, who was also present at M. d'Harville's +marriage?"</p> + +<p>"A still greater oddity. He has been travelling in +the East, and returned in time to receive a sword-wound +yesterday,—nothing serious, though."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poor dear duke! And his wife, always lovely and +fascinating?"</p> + +<p>"Madame, I have the honour to be one of her profoundest +admirers, and my testimony would, therefore, +be received with suspicion. I beg, on your return to +Aubiers, you will not forget my regards to M. d'Orbigny."</p> + +<p>"He will, I am sure, be most sensible of your kindness; +he often talks of you, and says you remind him of +the Duke de Lauzun."</p> + +<p>"His comparison is a eulogy in itself, but, unfortunately, +infinitely more flattering than true. Adieu, +madame, for I fear I must not ask to be allowed to pay +my respects to you before your departure."</p> + +<p>"I should lament to give you the trouble of calling +on me, for I have pitched my tent for a few days in a +furnished hôtel; but if, in the summer or autumn, you +should be passing our way, <i>en route</i> to some of those +fashionable châteaus where the leaders of <i>ton</i> dispute +the pleasure of receiving you, pray give us a few days of +your society, if it be only by way of contrast, and to rest +yourself with us poor rustic folk from the whirl of your +high life of fashion and distinction; for where you are +it is always delightful to be."</p> + +<p>"Madame!"</p> + +<p>"I need not say how delighted M. d'Orbigny and +myself would be to receive you; but adieu, sir, I fear +the kind attorney (she pointed to Ferrand) will grow +impatient at our gossip."</p> + +<p>"Quite the reverse, madame, quite the reverse," said +Ferrand, with an emphasis that redoubled the repressed +rage of M. de Saint-Remy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;"><a name="image134" id="image134"></a> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt="He will scold you awfully." title="He will scold you awfully." /> +<span class="caption"><i>He will scold you awfully.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Adrian Marcel</span></span> +</div> + +<p>"Is not M. Ferrand a terrible man?" said Madame +d'Orbigny, affectedly. "Mind now, I tell you, that, if +he has charge of your affairs, he will scold you awfully. +He is the most unpitying man—But that's my nonsense; +on the contrary, why, such an exquisite as you to +have M. Ferrand for his solicitor is a proof of reformation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +for we know very well that he never allows his +clients to do foolish things; if they do, he gives up +their business. Oh, he will not be everybody's lawyer!" +Then, turning to Jacques Ferrand: "Do you know, most +puritanical solicitor, that you have made a splendid conversion +there? If you reform the exquisite of exquisites, +the King of the Mode—"</p> + +<p>"It is really a conversion, madame. The viscount left +my study a very different man from what he entered it."</p> + +<p>"There, I tell you that you perform miracles!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, madame, you flatter me," said Jacques Ferrand, +with emphasis.</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy made a low bow to Madame +d'Orbigny, and then, as he left the notary, desirous of +trying once more to excite his pity, he said to him, in a +careless tone, which, however, betrayed deep anxiety:</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear M. Ferrand, you will not grant me +the favour I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Some wild scheme, no doubt. Be inexorable, my +dear Puritan," cried Madame d'Orbigny, laughing.</p> + +<p>"You hear, sir? I must not contradict such a handsome +lady."</p> + +<p>"My dear M. Ferrand, let us speak seriously of serious +things, and, you know, this is a most serious matter. +Do you really refuse me?" inquired the viscount, with +an anxiety which he could not altogether dissemble.</p> + +<p>The notary was cruel enough to appear to hesitate; +M. de Saint-Remy had an instant's hope.</p> + +<p>"What, man of iron, do you yield?" said Madame +d'Harville's stepmother, laughing still. "Do you, too, +yield to the charm of the irresistible?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi</i>, madame! I was on the point of yielding, as +you say; but you make me blush for my weakness," +added M. Ferrand. And then, addressing himself to +the viscount, he said to him, with an accent of which +Saint-Remy felt all the meaning, "Well then, seriously," +(and he dwelt on the word), "it is impossible."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, the Puritan! Hark to the Puritan!" said +Madame d'Orbigny.</p> + +<p>"See M. Petit-Jean. He will think precisely as I do, +I am sure, and, like me, will say to you 'No!'"</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy rushed out in despair.</p> + +<p>After a moment's reflection he said to himself, "It +must be so!" Then he added, addressing his chasseur, +who was standing with the door of his carriage opened, +"To the Hôtel de Lucenay."</p> + +<p>Whilst M. de Saint-Remy is on his way to see the +duchess, we will present the reader at the interview between +M. Ferrand and the stepmother of Madame d'Harville.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<h5>THE CLIENTS.</h5> + + +<p>The reader may have forgotten the portrait of the +stepmother of Madame d'Harville as drawn by the +latter. Let us then repeat, that Madame d'Orbigny was +a slight, fair, delicate woman, with eyelashes almost +white, round and palish blue eyes, with a soft voice, a +hypocritical air, insidious and insinuating manners. Any +one who studied her treacherous and perfidious countenance +would detect therein craft and cruelty.</p> + +<p>"What a delightful young man M. de Saint-Remy is!" +said Madame d'Orbigny to Jacques Ferrand, when the +viscount had left them.</p> + +<p>"Delightful! But, madame, let us now proceed to our +business. You wrote to me from Normandy that you +desired to consult me upon most serious matters."</p> + +<p>"Have you not always been my adviser ever since the +worthy Doctor Polidori introduced me to you? By the +way, have you heard from him recently?" inquired +Madame d'Orbigny, with an air of complete carelessness.</p> + +<p>"Since he left Paris he has not written me a single +line," replied the notary, with an air of similar indifference.</p> + +<p>Let the reader understand that these two persons lied +most unequivocally to each other. The notary had seen +Polidori (one of his two accomplices) recently, and had +proposed to him to go to Asnières, to the Martials, the +fresh-water pirates, of whom we shall presently speak,—had +proposed to him, we say, to poison Louise Morel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +under the name of Doctor Vincent. Madame d'Harville's +stepmother, on her side, had come to Paris in +order to have a secret meeting with this scoundrel, who +had been for a long time concealed, as we have said, +under the name of César Bradamanti.</p> + +<p>"But it is not the good doctor of whom we have to +discourse," continued Madame d'Harville's stepmother. +"You see me very uneasy. My husband is indisposed; +his health becomes weaker and weaker every day. Without +experiencing serious alarm, his condition gives me +much concern,—or rather, gives him much concern," +said Madame d'Orbigny, drying her eyes, which were +slightly moistened.</p> + +<p>"What is the business, madame?"</p> + +<p>"He is constantly talking of making his last arrangements,—of +his will." Here Madame d'Orbigny concealed +her face in her pocket-handkerchief for some minutes.</p> + +<p>"It is very afflicting, no doubt," said the notary; "but +the precaution has nothing terrible in itself. And what +may be M. d'Orbigny's intentions, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Dear sir! How do I know? You may suppose that +when he commences the subject I do not allow him to +dwell on it long."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, he has not up to this time told you +anything positive?"</p> + +<p>"I think," replied Madame d'Orbigny, with a deep +sigh,—"I think that he wishes to leave me not only +all that the law will allow him to bequeath to me, +but—But, really, I pray of you, do not let us talk of +that."</p> + +<p>"Of what, then, shall we talk?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, you are right, pitiless man! I must, in spite +of myself, return to the sad subject that brings me here +to see you. Well, then, M. d'Orbigny's inclination extends +so far that he desires to sell a part of his estate +and present me with a large sum."</p> + +<p>"But his daughter—his daughter?" exclaimed M.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +Ferrand, harshly. "I must tell you that, during the +last year, M. d'Harville has placed his affairs in my +hands, and I have lately purchased a splendid estate for +him. You know my blunt way of doing business? +Whether M. d'Harville is my client or not is no matter. +I stand up only for justice. If your husband makes up +his mind to behave to his daughter in a way that I do +not approve, I tell you plainly he must not reckon on my +assistance. Upright and downright, such has always +been my line of conduct."</p> + +<p>"And mine, also! Therefore it is that I am always +saying to my husband what you now say to me, 'Your +daughter has behaved very ill to you, that is but too +true; but that is no reason why you should disinherit +her.'"</p> + +<p>"Very good,—quite right! And what answer does +he make to that?"</p> + +<p>"He replies, 'I shall leave my daughter twenty-five +thousand livres of annual income (1,000<i>l.</i>); she had +more than a million (40,000<i>l.</i>) from her mother. Her +husband has an enormous fortune of his own; and, +therefore, why should I not leave you the residue of +my fortune,—you, my tender love, the sole support, +the only comfort of my declining years, my guardian +angel?' I repeat these very flattering words to you," +said Madame d'Orbigny, with an air of modesty, "to +prove to you how kind M. d'Orbigny is to me. But, in +spite of that, I have always refused his offers; and, as +he perceives that, he has compelled me to come and seek +you."</p> + +<p>"But I do not know M. d'Orbigny."</p> + +<p>"But he, like all the world, knows your high character."</p> + +<p>"But why should he send you to me?"</p> + +<p>"To put an end to all my scruples and refusals, he +said to me, 'I will not ask you to consult my notary, +because you will think him too much devoted to my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +service; but I will trust myself entirely to the decision +of a man of whose extreme probity of character I have +heard you so frequently speak in praise,—M. Jacques +Ferrand. If he considers your delicacy compromised +by your consent to my wishes, we will not say another +word on the subject; otherwise, you must comply without +a word.' 'I consent!' I replied to M. d'Orbigny. +And so now you are the arbitrator between us. 'If M. +Ferrand approves,' added my husband, 'I will send him +ample power to realise in my name my rents and investments, +and he shall keep the proceeds in his hands as +a deposit; and thus, after my decease, my tender love, +you will at least have an existence worthy of you.'"</p> + +<p>Perhaps M. Ferrand never had greater need of his +spectacles than at this moment; for, had he not worn +them, Madame d'Orbigny would doubtless have been +struck with the sparkle of the notary's eyes, which +seemed to dart fire when the word deposit was pronounced. +However, he replied, in his usual coarse way:</p> + +<p>"It is very tiresome. This is the tenth or twelfth +time that I have been made the arbitrator in a similar +matter, always under the pretence of my honesty,—that +is the only word in people's mouths. My honesty!—my +honesty! What a fine quality, forsooth!—which +only brings me in a great deal of tiresome +trouble."</p> + +<p>"My good M. Ferrand! Come, do not repulse me. +You will write at once to M. d'Orbigny, who only +awaits your letter to send you full powers to act for +him, and to realise the sum required."</p> + +<p>"Which amounts to how much?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I think he said four or five hundred thousand +francs" (16,000<i>l.</i> or 20,000<i>l.</i>).</p> + +<p>"The sum, after all, is not so much as I thought. +You are devoted to M. d'Orbigny. His daughter is +very rich; you have nothing. That is not just; and +I really think you should accept it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Really, do you think so, indeed?" said Madame +d'Orbigny, who was the dupe, like the rest of the world, +of the proverbial probity of the notary, and who had +not been enlightened by Polidori in this particular.</p> + +<p>"You may accept," he repeated.</p> + +<p>"I will accept, then," said Madame d'Orbigny, with +a sigh.</p> + +<p>The chief clerk knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?" inquired M. Ferrand.</p> + +<p>"Madame the Countess Macgregor."</p> + +<p>"Request her to wait a moment."</p> + +<p>"I will go, then, my dear M. Ferrand," said Madame +d'Orbigny. "You will write to my husband, since he +wishes it, and he will send you the requisite authority +by return of post?"</p> + +<p>"I will write."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, my worthy and excellent counsellor!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you do not know, you people of the world, how +disagreeable it is to take charge of such deposits,—the +responsibility which we then assume. I tell you that +there is nothing more detestable in the world than this +fine character for probity, which brings down upon +one all these turmoils and troubles."</p> + +<p>"And the admiration of all good people."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven, I place otherwise than here below +the hopes of the reward at which I aim!" said M. +Ferrand, in a hypocritical tone.</p> + +<p>To Madame d'Orbigny succeeded Sarah Macgregor.</p> + +<p>Sarah entered the cabinet of the notary with her +usual coolness and assurance. Jacques Ferrand did +not know her, nor the motives of her visit, and he +therefore scrutinised her carefully in the hope of +catching another dupe. He looked most attentively at +the countess; and, despite the imperturbability of this +marble-fronted woman, he observed a slight working of +the eyebrows, which betrayed a repressed embarrassment. +The notary rose from his seat, handed a chair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +and, motioning to Sarah to sit down, thus accosted +her:</p> + +<p>"You have requested of me, madame, an interview for +to-day. I was very much engaged yesterday, and could +not reply until this morning. I beg you will accept my +apology for the delay."</p> + +<p>"I was desirous of seeing you, sir, on a matter of the +greatest importance. Your reputation for honesty, kindness, +and complaisance has made me hope that the step +I have taken with you will be successful."</p> + +<p>The notary bent forward slightly in his chair.</p> + +<p>"I know, sir, that your discretion is perfect."</p> + +<p>"It is my duty, madame."</p> + +<p>"You are, sir, a man of rigid, moral, and incorruptible +character."</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame."</p> + +<p>"Yet, sir, if you were told that it depended on you to +restore life—more than life, reason—to an unhappy +mother, should you have the courage to refuse her?"</p> + +<p>"If you will state the circumstances, madame, I shall +be better able to reply."</p> + +<p>"It is fourteen years since, at the end of the month +of December, 1824, a man in the prime of life, and +dressed in deep mourning, came to ask you to take, by +way of life-annuity, the sum of a hundred and fifty +thousand francs (6,000<i>l.</i>), which it was desired should +be sunk in favour of a child of three years of age, whose +parents were desirous of remaining unknown."</p> + +<p>"Well, madame?" said the notary, careful not to +reply in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"You assented, and took charge of this sum, agreeing +to insure the child a yearly pension of eight thousand +francs (320<i>l.</i>). Half this income was to accumulate for +the child's benefit until of age; the other half was to +be paid by you to the person who took care of this little +girl."</p> + +<p>"Well, madame?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"At the end of two years," said Sarah, unable to +repress a slight emotion, "on the 28th of November, +1827, the child died."</p> + +<p>"Before we proceed any farther, madame, with this +conversation, I must know what interest you take in +this matter?"</p> + +<p>"The mother of this little girl, sir, was—my sister.<a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +I have here proofs of what I advance: the declaration +of the poor child's death, the letters of the person who +took charge of her, and the acknowledgment of one of +your clients with whom you have placed the hundred +and fifty thousand francs."</p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> It is, perhaps, unnecessary to remind the reader that the child in question +is Fleur-de-Marie, daughter of Rodolph and Sarah, and that the latter, +in speaking of a pretended sister, tells a falsehood necessary for her plans, +as will be seen. Sarah was convinced, as was Rodolph, also, of the death of +the little girl.</p></div></div> + +<p>"Allow me to see those papers, madame."</p> + +<p>Somewhat astonished at not being believed on her +word, Sarah drew from a pocket-book several papers, +which the notary examined with great attention.</p> + +<p>"Well, madame, what do you desire? The declaration +of decease is perfectly in order. The hundred and +fifty thousand francs came to my client, M. Petit-Jean, +on the death of the child. It is one of the chances of +life-annuities, as I remarked to the person who placed +the affair in my hands. As to the pension, it was duly +paid by me up to the time of the child's decease."</p> + +<p>"I am ready to declare, sir, that nothing could be +more satisfactory than your conduct throughout the +whole of the affair. The female who had charge of +the child is also entitled to our gratitude, for she +took the greatest care of my poor little niece."</p> + +<p>"True, madame. And I was so much satisfied with +her conduct, that, seeing her out of place after the death +of the child, I took her into my employment; and, since +that time, she has remained with me."</p> + +<p>"Is Madame Séraphin in your service, sir?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She has been my housekeeper these fourteen years, +and I must ever speak in her praise."</p> + +<p>"Since that is the case, sir, she may be of the greatest +use to us, if you will kindly grant me a request, which +may appear strange, perhaps even culpable, at first sight, +but when you know the motive—"</p> + +<p>"A culpable request, madame, is what I cannot believe +you capable of addressing to me."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I am acquainted with the rectitude of your principles; +but all my hope—my only hope—is in your +pity. Under any event, I may rely on your discretion?"</p> + +<p>"Madame, you may."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I will proceed. The death of this poor +child was so great a shock to her mother, that her grief +is as great now as it was fourteen years since, and, having +then feared for her life, we are now in dread for her +reason."</p> + +<p>"Poor mother!" said M. Ferrand, in a tone of sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, poor unhappy mother, indeed, sir! for she +could only blush at the birth of her child at the time +when she lost it; whilst now circumstances are such, +that, if the child were still alive, my sister could render +her legitimate, be proud of her, and never again allow +her to quit her. Thus this incessant regret, coming to +add to her other sorrows, we are afraid every hour lest +she should be bereft of her senses."</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate that nothing can be done in the +matter."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir—"</p> + +<p>"What, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose some one told the poor mother, 'Your child +was reported to be dead, but she did not die: the woman +who had charge of her when she was little could vouch +for this.'"</p> + +<p>"Such a falsehood, madame, would be cruel. Why +give so vain a hope to the poor mother?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, supposing it were not a falsehood, sir? or, +rather, if the supposition could be realised?"</p> + +<p>"By a miracle? If it only required my prayers to be +united with your own to obtain this result, I would give +them to you from the bottom of my heart,—believe +me, madame. Unfortunately, the register of decease is +strictly regular."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, sir, I know well enough that the child is +dead; and yet, if you will agree, that misfortune need +not be irreparable."</p> + +<p>"Is this some riddle, madame?"</p> + +<p>"I will speak more clearly. If my sister were to-morrow +to recover her daughter, she would be certain +not only to be restored to health, but to be wedded to +the father of her child, who is now as free as herself. +My niece died at six years old. Separated from her +parents from a very tender age, they have not the slightest +recollection of her. Suppose a young girl of seventeen +was produced (my niece would be about that age),—a +young girl (such as there are many) forsaken by +her parents,—and it was said to my sister, 'Here's your +daughter, for you have been imposed upon. Important +interests have required that she should have been said +to be dead. The female who brought her up and a +respectable notary will confirm these facts, and prove +to you that it is really she—'"</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand, after having allowed the countess +to speak on without interruption, rose abruptly, and +exclaimed, with an indignant air:</p> + +<p>"Madame, this is infamous!"</p> + +<p>"Sir!"</p> + +<p>"To dare to propose such a thing to me—to me! +A supposititious child, the destruction of a registry of +decease; a criminal act, indeed! It is the first time in +my life that I was ever subjected to so outrageous a +proposal,—a proposal I have not merited, and you +know it!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, sir, what wrong does this do to any one? My +sister and the individual she desires to marry are widow +and widower, and childless, both bitterly lamenting the +child they have lost. To deceive them is to restore +them to happiness, to life, is to ensure a happy destiny +to some poor, forsaken girl; and it becomes, therefore, +a noble, a generous action, and not a crime!"</p> + +<p>"Really, madame, I marvel to see how the most +execrable projects may be coloured, so as to pass for +beautiful pictures!"</p> + +<p>"But, sir, reflect—"</p> + +<p>"I repeat to you, madame, that it is infamous! And +it is shameful to see a lady of your rank lend herself to +such abominable machinations,—to which, I trust, your +sister is a stranger."</p> + +<p>"Sir—"</p> + +<p>"Enough, madame, enough! I am not a polished gentleman, +I am not, and I shall speak my mind bluntly."</p> + +<p>Sarah gave the notary a piercing look with her jet-black +eyes, and said, coldly:</p> + +<p>"You refuse?"</p> + +<p>"I pray, madame, that you will not again insult me."</p> + +<p>"Beware!"</p> + +<p>"What! Threats?"</p> + +<p>"Threats! And that you may learn they are not +vain ones, learn, first, that I have no sister—"</p> + +<p>"What, madame?"</p> + +<p>"I am the mother of this child!"</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"I—I made a circuitous route to reach my end—coined +a tale to excite your interest; but you are pitiless. +I raise the mask, you are for war. Well, war be +it then!"</p> + +<p>"War! Because I refuse to associate myself with you +in a criminal machination! What audacity!"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, sir! Your reputation as an honest +man is established, acknowledged, undisputed—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because deserved; and, therefore, you must have +lost your reason to make me such a proposal as you +have done, and then threaten me because I will not +accede to it."</p> + +<p>"I know, sir, better than any one how much reputations +for immaculate virtue are to be distrusted; they +often mask wantonness in women and roguery in men."</p> + +<p>"Madame?"</p> + +<p>"Ever since our conversation began,—I do not know +why, but I have mistrusted your claim to the esteem +and consideration which you enjoy."</p> + +<p>"Really, madame, your mistrust does honour to your +penetration!"</p> + +<p>"Does it not? For this mistrust is based on mere +nothings—on instinct—on inexplicable presentiments; +but these intimations have rarely beguiled me."</p> + +<p>"Madame, let us terminate this conversation."</p> + +<p>"First learn my determination. I begin by telling +you that I am convinced of the death of my poor daughter. +But, no matter, I shall pretend that she is not +dead: the most unlikely things do happen. You are +at this moment in a position of which very many must +be envious, and would be delighted at any weapon with +which to assail you. I will supply one."</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"I, by attacking you under some absurd pretext, +some irregularity in the declaration of death; say—no +matter what—I will insist that my child is not dead. +As I have the greatest interest in making it believed +that she is still alive, though lost, this action will be +useful to me in giving a wide circulation to the affair. +A mother who claims her child is always interesting; +and I should have with me those who envy you,—your +enemies, and every sensitive and romantic mind."</p> + +<p>"This is as mad as it is malevolent! What motive +could I have in making your daughter pass for dead, if +she were not really defunct?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is true enough, and the motive may be difficult +to find; but, then, have we not the attorneys and +barristers at our elbows? Now I think of it (excellent +idea!), desirous of sharing with your client the sum +sunk in the annuity on this unfortunate child, you caused +her disappearance."</p> + +<p>The unabashed notary shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If I had been criminal enough for that, instead of +causing its disappearance, I should have killed it!"</p> + +<p>Sarah started with surprise, remained silent for a +moment, and then said, with bitterness:</p> + +<p>"For a pious man, this is an idea of crime deeply +reflective! Can I by chance, then, have hit the mark +when I fired at random? I must think of this,—and +think I will. One other word. You see the sort of +woman I am: I crush without remorse all obstacles +that lie in my onward path. Reflect well, then, for +to-morrow this must be decided on. You may do what +I ask you with impunity. In his joy, the father of my +daughter will not think of doubting the possibility of his +child's restoration, if our falsehoods, which will make him +happy, are adroitly combined. Besides, he has no other +proofs of the death of our daughter than those I wrote +to him of fourteen years ago, and I could easily persuade +him that I had deceived him on this subject; for +then I had real causes of complaint against him. I will +tell him that in my grief I was desirous of breaking +every existing tie that bound us to each other. You +cannot, therefore, be compromised in any way. Affirm +only, irreproachable man. Affirm that all was in former +days concerted between us,—you and me and Madame +Séraphin,—and you will be credited. As to the fifteen +thousand francs sunk in an annuity for my child, that is +my affair solely. They will remain acquired by your +client, who must be kept profoundly ignorant of this; +and, moreover, you shall yourself name your own +recompense."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand maintained all his <i>sang-froid</i> in spite +of the singularity of his situation, remarkable and dangerous +as it was. The countess, really believing in the +death of her daughter, had proposed to the notary to +pass off the dead child as living, whom, living, he had +declared to have died fourteen years before. He was too +clever, and too well acquainted with the perils of his +position, not to understand the effect of all Sarah's +threats. His reputation, although admirably and laboriously +built up, was based on a substructure of sand. +The public detaches itself as easily as it becomes infatuated, +liking to have the right to trample under foot him +whom but just now it elevated to the skies. How could +the consequences of the first assault on the reputation +of Jacques Ferrand be foreseen? However absurd the +attack might be, its very boldness might give rise to suspicions. +Wishing to gain time to determine on the mode +by which he would seek to parry the dangerous blow, the +notary said, frigidly, to Sarah:</p> + +<p>"You have given me, madame, until to-morrow at noon; +I give you until the next day to renounce a plot whose +serious nature you do not seem to have contemplated. +If, between this and then, I do not receive from you a +letter informing me that you have abandoned this criminal +and crazy enterprise, you will learn to your cost +that Justice knows how to protect honest people who +refuse guilty associations, and what may happen to the +concoctors of hateful machinations."</p> + +<p>"You mean to say, sir, that you ask from me one +more day to reflect on my proposals? That is a good +sign, and I grant the delay. The day after to-morrow, +at this hour, I will come here again, and it shall be +between us peace or war,—I repeat it,—but a 'war to +the knife,' without mercy or pity."</p> + +<p>And Sarah left the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>"All goes well," she said. "This miserable girl, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +whom Rodolph capriciously takes so much interest, and +has sent to the farm at Bouqueval, in order, no doubt, +to make her his mistress hereafter, is no longer to be +feared,—thanks to the one-eyed woman who has freed +me from her. Rodolph's adroitness has saved Madame +d'Harville from the snare into which I meant she should +fall; but it is impossible that she can escape from the +fresh plot I have laid for her, and thus she must be for +ever lost to Rodolph. Thus, saddened, discouraged, isolated +from all affection, will he not be in a frame of +mind such as will best suit my purpose of making him +the dupe of a falsehood to which, by the notary's aid, I +can give every impress of truth? And the notary will +aid me, for I have frightened him. I shall easily find a +young orphan girl, interesting and poor, who, taught her +lesson by me, will fill the character of our child so bitterly +mourned by Rodolph. I know the expansiveness, the +generosity of his heart,—yes, to give a name, a rank to +her whom he will believe to be his daughter, till now +forsaken and abandoned, he will renew those bonds +between us which I believed indissoluble. The predictions +of my nurse will be at length realised, and I shall +thus and then attain the constant aim of my life,—a +crown!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Sarah had scarcely left the notary before M. Charles +Robert entered, after alighting from a very dashing cabriolet. +He went like a person on most intimate terms +to the private room of Jacques Ferrand.</p> + +<p>The commandant, as Madame Pipelet called him, +entered without ceremony into the notary's cabinet, +whom he found in a surly, bilious mood, and who thus +accosted him:</p> + +<p>"I reserve the afternoon for my clients; when you +wish to speak to me come in the morning, will you?"</p> + +<p>"My dear lawyer" (this was a standing pleasantry of +M. Robert), "I have a very important matter to talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +about in the first place, and, in the next, I was anxious +to assure you in person against any alarms you might +have—"</p> + +<p>"What alarms?"</p> + +<p>"What! Haven't you heard?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Of my duel—"</p> + +<p>"Your duel?"</p> + +<p>"With the Duke de Lucenay. Is it possible you have +not heard of it?"</p> + +<p>"Quite possible."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! pooh!"</p> + +<p>"But what did you fight about?"</p> + +<p>"A very serious matter, which called for bloodshed. +Only imagine that, at a very large party, M. de Lucenay +actually said that I had a phlegmy cough!"</p> + +<p>"That you had—"</p> + +<p>"A phlegmy cough, my dear lawyer; a complaint which +is really most ridiculously absurd!"</p> + +<p>"And did you fight about that?"</p> + +<p>"What the devil would you have a man fight about? +Can you imagine that a man could stand calmly and +hear himself charged with having a phlegmy cough? +And before a lovely woman, too! Before a little marchioness, +who—who—In a word, I could not stand +it!"</p> + +<p>"Really!"</p> + +<p>"The military men, you see, are always sensitive. +My seconds went, the day before yesterday, to try and +obtain some explanation from those of the duke. I +put the matter perfectly straight,—a duel or an ample +apology."</p> + +<p>"An ample apology for what?"</p> + +<p>"For the phlegmy cough, <i>pardieu!</i>—the phlegmy +cough that he fastened on me."</p> + +<p>The notary shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"The duke's seconds said, 'We bear testimony to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +honourable character of M. Charles Robert, but M. de +Lucenay cannot, ought not, and will not retract.' 'Then, +gentlemen,' replied my seconds, 'M. de Lucenay is obstinately +determined to assert that M. Charles Robert has +a phlegmy cough?' 'Yes, gentlemen, but he does not +therefore mean in the slightest way to impugn the high +respectability of M. Charles Robert.' 'Then let him +retract—' 'No, gentlemen, M. de Lucenay acknowledges +M. Robert as a most decidedly worthy gentleman, +but still asserts that he has a phlegmy cough.' You see +there was no means of arranging so serious an affair."</p> + +<p>"To be sure not. You were insulted in the point +which a man holds dearest."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't I? Well, time and place were agreed on; +and yesterday morning we met at Vincennes, and everything +passed off in the most honourable manner possible. +I touched M. de Lucenay slightly in the arm, and the +seconds declared that honour was satisfied. Then the +duke, with a loud voice, said, 'I never retract before a +meeting, but, afterwards, it is a very different thing. It +is, therefore, my duty, and my honour impels me to +declare, that I falsely accused M. Charles Robert of having +a phlegmy cough. Gentlemen, I not only declare that +my honourable opponent had not a phlegmy cough, but I +trust he never will have one.' Then the duke extended +his hand in the most cordial manner, saying,'Are you +now satisfied?' 'We are friends through life and death,' +I replied; and it was really due to him to say so. The +duke has behaved to perfection. Either he might have +said nothing, or contented himself with declaring that I +had not the phlegmy cough. But to express his wish +that I might never have it, was a most delicate attention +on his part."</p> + +<p>"This is what I call courage well employed! But +what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"My dear cashkeeper" (this was another of M. Robert's +habitual pleasantries), "it is a matter of great importance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +to me. You know that, according to our agreement, I +have advanced to you three hundred and fifty thousand +francs (14,000<i>l.</i>) to complete a particular payment you +had; and it was stipulated that I was to give you three +months' notice of my wish to withdraw that money, the +interest of which you pay me regularly."</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>"Well," said M. Robert, hesitatingly, "I—no—that +is—"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it is only a whim of becoming a landed +proprietor."</p> + +<p>"Come to the point, pray! You annoy me."</p> + +<p>"In a word, then, I am anxious to become a landed +proprietor. And, if not inconvenient to you, I should +like—that is I should wish—to have my funds now +in your hands; and I came to say so."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah!"</p> + +<p>"That does not offend you, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I be offended?"</p> + +<p>"Because you might think—"</p> + +<p>"I might think—?"</p> + +<p>"That I am the echo of certain reports—"</p> + +<p>"What reports?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. Mere folly."</p> + +<p>"But, tell me—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there can be no certainty in the gossip about +you!"</p> + +<p>"What gossip?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is false from beginning to end. But there +are chatterers who say that you are mixed up in some +unpleasant transactions. Idle gossip, I am quite certain. +It is just the same as the report that you and I speculated +on the Exchange together. These reports soon +died away. For I will always say that—"</p> + +<p>"So you suppose that your money is not safe with +me?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no! But, at this moment, I should like +to have it in my own hands."</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment." M. Ferrand shut the drawer of +his bureau, and rose.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, my dear cashkeeper?"</p> + +<p>"To fetch what will convince you of the truth of the +reports as to the embarrassment of my affairs," said +the notary, ironically; and, opening the door of a small +private staircase, which enabled him to go into the +pavilion at the back without passing through the office, +he disappeared. He had scarce left the room, when the +head clerk rapped again.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said Charles Robert.</p> + +<p>"Is not M. Ferrand here?"</p> + +<p>"No, my worthy pounce and parchment" (another +joke of M. Robert).</p> + +<p>"There is a lady with a veil on, who wishes to see my +employer this moment on a very urgent affair."</p> + +<p>"Worthy quill-driver, the excellent employer will be +here in a moment, and I will inform him. Is the lady +handsome?"</p> + +<p>"One must be very keen-sighted to discover; for she +has on a black veil, so thick that it is impossible to see +her face."</p> + +<p>"Really, really, I will make her show her face as I go +out. I'll tell the governor as soon as he returns."</p> + +<p>The clerk left the room.</p> + +<p>"Where the devil has the attorney at law vanished?" +said M. Charles Robert. "To examine the state of his +finances, no doubt. If these reports are groundless, so +much the better. And, when all is said and done, they +can but be false reports. Men of Jacques Ferrand's +honesty always have so many people jealous of them! +Still, at the same time, I should just as well like to have +my own cash. I will certainly buy the château in question. +There are towers and Gothic turrets quite <i>à la +Louis Quatorze</i>, the real <i>renaissance</i>, and, in a word, all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +that is most <i>rococo</i>. It would give me a kind of landed +proprietor's sort of air which would be capital. It +would not be like my <i>amour</i> with that flirt of a Madame +d'Harville. Has she really cut me? Can she really +have given me the 'go-by?' No, no! I am not trifled +with as that stupid porteress in the Rue du Temple, with +her bob-wig, says. Yet this agreeable little flirtation +has cost me at least one thousand crowns. True, the +furniture is left, and I have quite enough in my power +to compromise the marchioness. But here comes the +lawyer!"</p> + +<p>M. Ferrand returned, holding in his hands some +papers, which he handed to M. Charles Robert.</p> + +<p>"Here," said he, "are three hundred and fifty thousand +francs in bank-bills. In a few days we will +balance the account of interest. Give me a receipt."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed M. Robert, astonished; "do not +go to think that—"</p> + +<p>"I don't think anything."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"The receipt!"</p> + +<p>"Dear cashkeeper!"</p> + +<p>"Write it; and tell the persons who talk to you of +my embarrassments, how I reply to such suspicions."</p> + +<p>"The fact is that, as soon as they hear this, your +credit will be more solid than ever. But, really, take +the money back again; I do not want it at this moment. +I told you it was three months hence."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Charles Robert, no man suspects me +twice."</p> + +<p>"You are angry?"</p> + +<p>"The receipt,—the receipt!"</p> + +<p>"Man of iron, that you are!" said M. Charles Robert. +"There!" he added, writing the receipt. "There is a +lady, closely veiled, who desires to speak to you directly +on a very urgent affair. Won't I have a good look at +her as I go out! There's your receipt; is it all right?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quite. Now I'll thank you to go out this way."</p> + +<p>"And so not see the lady?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely so."</p> + +<p>And the notary rang; and when the chief clerk made +his appearance, he said:</p> + +<p>"Ask the lady to walk in. Good day, M. Robert."</p> + +<p>"Well, I see I must give up the chance of seeing her. +Don't bear malice, lawyer. Believe me, if—"</p> + +<p>"There—there; that'll do. Good-bye." And the +notary shut the door on M. Charles Robert.</p> + +<p>After the lapse of a few moments, the chief clerk +introduced the Duchess de Lucenay, very simply attired, +wearing a large shawl, and her features entirely concealed +by a thick veil of black lace, depending from her +watered silk bonnet of the same colour.</p> + +<p>Madame de Lucenay, a good deal agitated, walked +slowly towards the notary's bureau, who advanced a +few paces to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, madame; and what may be your business +with me?" said Jacques Ferrand, abruptly; for +Sarah's menaces and M. Charles Robert's suspicions had +a good deal ruffled him. Moreover, the duchess was +clad so simply, that the notary did not see any reason +why he should not be rude. As she did not immediately +reply, he continued, abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Will you be so kind as to inform me, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," she said, in a faltering voice, and endeavouring +to conceal her face in the folds of her veil, "Sir, may I +entrust you with a secret of extreme importance?"</p> + +<p>"You may trust me with anything, madame. But it +is requisite that I should know and see to whom I speak."</p> + +<p>"That, sir, perhaps, is not necessary. I know that +you are probity and honour itself—"</p> + +<p>"To the point, madame,—to the point. I have some +one waiting for me. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"My name is of no consequence, sir. One—of—my +friends,—a relative,—has just left you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"His name?"</p> + +<p>"M. Florestan de Saint-Remy."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the notary; and he cast a scrutinising +and steadfast glance on the duchess. Then he added, +"Well, madame?"</p> + +<p>"M. de Saint-Remy has told me—all,—sir!"</p> + +<p>"What has he told you, madame?"</p> + +<p>"All!"</p> + +<p>"What all?"</p> + +<p>"Sir; you know—"</p> + +<p>"I know many things about M. de Saint-Remy."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir, this is a terrible thing!"</p> + +<p>"I know many terrible things about M. de Saint-Remy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, he was right when he told me that you +were pitiless."</p> + +<p>"For swindlers and forgers like him,—yes, I am +pitiless. So this Saint-Remy is a relative of yours? +Instead of owning it, you ought to blush at it. Do you +mean to try and soften me with your tears? It is useless,—not +to add that you have undertaken a very +disgraceful task for a respectable female."</p> + +<p>At this coarse insolence the pride and patrician blood +of the duchess revolted. She drew herself up, threw +back her veil; and then, with a lofty air, imperious +glance, and firm voice, said:</p> + +<p>"I am the Duchess de Lucenay, sir!"</p> + +<p>The lady then assumed the lofty look of her station; +and her appearance was so imposing that the notary, +controlled, fascinated, receded a pace, quite overcome, +took off mechanically the black silk cap that covered his +cranium, and made a low bow.</p> + +<p>In truth, nothing could be more charming and aristocratic +than the face and figure of Madame de Lucenay, +although she was turned thirty, and her features were +pale and somewhat agitated. But then she had full, +brown eyes, sparkling and bold; splendid black hair; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +nose thin and arched; a lip red and disdainful; a dazzling +complexion; teeth of ivory; and a form tall and +slender, graceful, and full of distinction,—the carriage +of a goddess in the clouds, as the immortal Saint-Simon +says. With her hair powdered, and a costume of the +eighteenth century, Madame de Lucenay would have represented, +physically and morally, one of those gay and +careless duchesses of the Regency who carried on their +flirtations (or worse) with so much audacity, giddiness, +and real kindness of heart, who confessed their peccadilloes +from time to time with so much candour and +naïveté, that the most punctilious said, with a smile, +"She is, doubtless, light and culpable; but she is so +kind—so delightful; loves with so much intensity, +passion, and fidelity,—as long as she does love,—that +we cannot really be angry with her. After all, she only +injures herself, and makes so many others happy!" Except +the powder and the large skirts to her dress, such +also was Madame de Lucenay, when not depressed by +sombre thoughts. She entered the office of M. Jacques +Ferrand like a plain tradesman's wife; in the instant she +came forth as a great, proud, and irritated lady. Jacques +Ferrand had never in his life seen a woman of such striking +beauty,—so haughty and bold, and so noble in her +demeanour. The look of the duchess, her glorious eyes, +encircled with an imperceptible bow of azure, her rosy +nostrils, much dilated, betokened her ardent nature.</p> + +<p>Although old, ugly, ignoble, and sordid, Jacques Ferrand +was as capable as any one of appreciating the style +of beauty of Madame de Lucenay. The hatred and rage +which the notary felt against M. de Saint-Remy was +increased by the admiration which his proud and lovely +mistress inspired in him. Devoured by all his repressed +passions, he said to himself, in an agony of rage, that +this gentleman forger, whom he had compelled almost +to fall at his feet when he threatened him with the +assizes, could inspire such love in such a woman that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +she actually risked the present step in his behalf, which +might prove fatal to her reputation. As he thus thought, +the notary felt his boldness, which had been for a moment +paralysed, restored to him. Hatred, envy, a kind of savage +and burning resentment, lighted up his eyes, his forehead, +and his cheeks. Seeing Madame de Lucenay on +the point of commencing so delicate a conversation, he +expected from her caution and management. What was +his astonishment! She spoke with as much assurance +and haughtiness as if she were discoursing about the +simplest thing in the world; and as if, before a man of +his sort, she had no care for reserve or those concealments +which she would assuredly have maintained with +her equals. In fact, the coarse brutality of the notary +wounded her to the quick, and had led Madame de +Lucenay to quit the humble and supplicating part she +was acting with much difficulty to herself. Returned +to herself, she thought it beneath her to descend to the +least concealment with a mere scribbler of acts and +deeds. High-spirited, charitable, generous, overflowing +with kindness, warm-heartedness, and energy, in spite +of her faults,—but the daughter of a mother of no +principle, and who had even disgraced the noble and +respectable, though fallen position of an <i>émigrée</i>,—Madame +de Lucenay, in her inborn contempt for certain +classes, would have said with the Roman empress who +took her bath in the presence of a male slave, "He +is not a man!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Notary," said the duchess, with a determined +air, to Jacques Ferrand, "M. de Saint-Remy is +one of my friends, and has confided to me the embarrassment +under which he is at this moment suffering, from +a twofold treachery of which he is the victim. All is +arranged as to the money. How much is required to +terminate these miserable annoyances?"</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand was actually aghast at this cavalier +and deliberate manner of entering on this affair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"One hundred thousand francs are required," he +repeated, after having in some degree surmounted his +surprise.</p> + +<p>"You shall have your one hundred thousand francs; +so send, at once, these annoying papers to M. de Saint-Remy."</p> + +<p>"Where are the one hundred thousand francs, Madame +la Duchesse?"</p> + +<p>"Have I not said you should have them, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I must have them to-morrow, and before noon, +madame; or else proceedings will be instantly commenced +for the forgery."</p> + +<p>"Well, do you pay this sum, which I will repay to you."</p> + +<p>"But madame, it is impossible."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, you will not tell me, I imagine, that a +notary, like you, cannot find one hundred thousand +francs by to-morrow morning?"</p> + +<p>"On what securities, madame?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Explain!"</p> + +<p>"Who will be answerable to me for this sum?"</p> + +<p>"I will."</p> + +<p>"Still, madame—"</p> + +<p>"Need I say that I have an estate four leagues from +Paris, which brings me in eighty thousand francs +(3,200<i>l.</i>) a year? That will suffice, I should think, +for what you call your securities?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, when the mortgage is properly +secured."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Some formality of law, no +doubt? Do it, sir, do it."</p> + +<p>"Such a deed cannot be drawn up in less than a +fortnight, and we must have your husband's assent, +madame."</p> + +<p>"But the estate is mine, and mine only," said the +duchess, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"No matter, madame, you have a husband; and +mortgage deeds are very long and very minute."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, once again, sir, you will not ask me to believe +that it is so difficult to find one hundred thousand francs +in two hours?"</p> + +<p>"Then, madame, apply to the notary you usually +employ, or your steward; as for me, it is impossible."</p> + +<p>"I have my reasons for keeping this secret," said +Madame de Lucenay, haughtily. "You know the +rogues who seek to take advantage of M. de Saint-Remy, +and that is the reason why I address myself to +you."</p> + +<p>"Your confidence does me much honour, madame; +but I cannot do what you ask of me."</p> + +<p>"You have not this sum?"</p> + +<p>"I have much more than that sum, in bank-notes or +bright and good gold, here in my chest."</p> + +<p>"Then why waste time about it? You require my +signature, I suppose? Well, let me give it to you, and let +us end the matter."</p> + +<p>"Even admitting, madame, that you were Madame de +Lucenay—"</p> + +<p>"Come to the Hôtel de Lucenay in one hour, sir, and +I will sign whatever may be requisite."</p> + +<p>"And will the duke sign, also?"</p> + +<p>"I do not understand, sir."</p> + +<p>"Your signature, alone, would be worthless to me, +madame."</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand delighted, with cruel joy, in the +manifest impatience of the duchess, who, under the +appearance of coolness and hauteur, repressed really +painful agony.</p> + +<p>For an instant she was at her wits' end. On the previous +evening, her jeweller had advanced her a considerable +sum on her jewels, some of which had been confided +to Morel, the lapidary. This sum had been employed +in paying the bills of M. de Saint-Remy, and thus disarming +the other creditors; M. Dubreuil, the farmer +of Arnouville, was more than a year's rent in advance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +on the farm; and, then, the time was so pressing. Still +more unfortunately for Madame de Lucenay, two of her +friends, to whom she could have had recourse in this +moment of distress, were then absent from Paris. In +her eyes, the viscount was innocent of the forgery. He +had said, and she had believed him, that he was the +victim of two rogues; but yet his position was not the +less terrible. He accused! He led to prison! And, even +if he took flight, his name would be no less dishonoured +by the suspicion that would light on him. At these distressing +thoughts, Madame de Lucenay trembled with +affright. She blindly loved this man, at the same +time so degraded, and gifted with such strong seductive +powers; and her passion for him was one of those affections +which women, of her character and her temperament, +ordinarily experience when they attain an age of +maturity.</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand carefully watched every variation +in the physiognomy of Madame de Lucenay, who seemed +to him more lovely and attractive at every moment, and +awakened still more his ardent feeling. Yet he felt +a fierce pleasure in tormenting, by his refusals, this +female, who could only entertain disgust and contempt +for him. The lady had spurned the idea of saying a +word to the notary that might seem like a supplication; +yet, when she found the uselessness of other attempts, +which she had addressed to him who alone could save +M. de Saint-Remy, she said, at length, trying to repress +all evidence of emotion:</p> + +<p>"Since you have the sum of money which I ask of +you, sir, and my guarantee is sufficient, why do you +refuse it to me?"</p> + +<p>"Because men have their caprices, as well as ladies, +madame."</p> + +<p>"Well, what is this caprice which thus impels you to +act against your own interest? For I repeat, sir, that +whatever may be your conditions, I accept them."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will accept all my conditions, madame?" said +the notary, with a singular expression.</p> + +<p>"All,—two, three, four thousand francs, more, if you +please. For you must know, sir," added the duchess, +in a tone almost confidential, "I have no resource but in +you, sir, and in you only. It will be impossible for me +at this moment to find elsewhere what I require for +to-morrow, and I must have it, as you know,—I must +absolutely have it. Thus I repeat to you that, whatever +terms you require for this service, I accept them; +nothing will be a sacrifice to me,—nothing."</p> + +<p>The breath of the notary became thick, and, in his +ignoble blindness, he interpreted the last words of +Madame de Lucenay in an unworthy manner. He +saw, through his darkened understanding, a woman +as bold as some of the females of the old court,—a +woman driven to her wits' end for fear of the dishonour +of him whom she loved, and capable, perhaps, of +any sacrifice to save him. It was even more stupid +than infamous to think so, but, as we have said already, +Jacques Ferrand sometimes, though rarely, forgot +himself.</p> + +<p>He quitted his chair abruptly, and approached Madame +de Lucenay, who, surprised, rose when he did, and looked +at him with much astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Nothing will be a sacrifice to you, say you? To +you, who are so lovely?" he exclaimed, with a voice +trembling and broken with agitation, as he went towards +the duchess. "Well, then, I will lend you this sum, on +one condition,—one condition only,—and I swear to +you—"</p> + +<p>He could not finish his declaration.</p> + +<p>By one of those singular contradictions of human +nature, at the sight of the singularly ugly features of M. +Ferrand, at the strange and whimsical thoughts which +arose in Madame de Lucenay's mind, at his ridiculous +pretensions, which she guessed in spite of her disquietude<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +and anxiety, she burst into a fit of laughter, so hearty, +so loud, and so excessive, that the disconcerted notary +reeled back. Then, without allowing him a moment +to utter another word, the duchess gave way still +more to her increasing mirth, lowered her veil, and, +between two bursts of irrepressible laughter, she +said to the notary, overwhelmed by hatred, rage, and +fury:</p> + +<p>"Really, I should much rather prefer asking this +advance from M. de Lucenay."</p> + +<p>She then left the room, laughing so heartily that, even +when the door of his room was closed, the notary heard +her still.</p> + +<p>Jacques Ferrand no sooner recovered his reason than +he cursed his imprudence; but he became reassured on +reflecting that the duchess could not allude to this +adventure without compromising herself. Still, the day +had been unpropitious, and he was plunged in thought +when the door of his study opened, and Madame Séraphin +entered in great agitation.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Ferrand," she exclaimed, "you were right when +you declared that, one day or other, we should be ruined +for having allowed her to live!"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"That cursed little girl!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"A one-eyed woman, whom I did not know, and to +whom Tournemine gave the little chit to get rid of her, +fourteen years ago, when we wished to make her pass +for dead—Ah, who would have thought it!"</p> + +<p>"Speak! Speak! Why don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>"This one-eyed woman has been here, was down-stairs +just now, and told me that she knew it was I who had +delivered up the little brat."</p> + +<p>"Malediction! Who could have told her? Tournemine +is at the galleys."</p> + +<p>"I denied it, and treated the one-eyed woman as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +a liar. But bah! she declares she knows where the +girl is now, and that she has grown up, that she has +her, and that it only depends on her to discover everything."</p> + +<p>"Is hell, then, unchained against me to-day?" exclaimed +the notary, in a fit of rage. "What shall I say +to this woman? What shall I offer her to hold her +tongue? Does she seem well off?"</p> + +<p>"As I treated her like a beggar, she shook her hand-basket, +and there was money inside of it."</p> + +<p>"And she knows where this young girl is now?"</p> + +<p>"So she says."</p> + +<p>"And she is the daughter of the Countess Sarah +Macgregor!" said the stupefied notary; "and just now +she offered me so much to declare that her daughter +was not dead; and the girl is alive, and I can restore +her to her mother! But, then, the false register of her +death! If a search were made, I am ruined! This +crime may put others on the scent."</p> + +<p>After a moment's silence, he said to Madame +Séraphin:</p> + +<p>"This one-eyed woman knows where the child is?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And the woman will call again?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Write to Polidori, to come to me this evening, at +nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>"What! Will you rid yourself of the young girl and +the old woman, too? Ferrand, that will be too much at +once!"</p> + +<p>"I bid you write to Polidori, to come here this +evening, at nine o'clock!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>At the end of this day, Rodolph said to Murphy: +"Desire M. de Graün to despatch a courier this +instant; Cecily must be in Paris in six days."</p> + +<p>"What! that she-devil again? The diabolical wife of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +poor David, as beautiful as she is infamous! For what +purpose, monseigneur?"</p> + +<p>"For what purpose, Sir Walter Murphy? Ask that +question, in a month hence, of the notary, Jacques +Ferrand."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<h5>THE ANONYMOUS LETTER.</h5> + + +<p>Towards ten o'clock in the evening of the same day +in which Fleur-de-Marie was carried off by the Chouette +and Schoolmaster, a man on horseback arrived at the +Bouqueval farm, representing himself as coming from +M. Rodolph to tranquillise Madame Georges as to the +safety of her young friend, and to assure her of her +safe return ere long. The man further stated that M. +Rodolph, having very important reasons for making +the request, particularly desired no letters might be +addressed to him at Paris for the present; but that, +in the event of Madame Georges having anything +particular to communicate, the messenger now sent +would take charge of it, and deliver it punctually.</p> + +<p>This pretended envoy on the part of Rodolph was, +in fact, an emissary sent by Sarah, who, by this stratagem, +effected the twofold purpose of quieting the +apprehensions of Madame Georges and also obtaining +a delay of several days ere Rodolph learned that the +Goualeuse had been carried off; during which interval +Sarah hoped to have induced the notary, Jacques Ferrand, +to promote her unworthy attempt to impose a +supposititious child on Rodolph, after the manner which +has already been related. Nor was this all the evil +planned by the countess; she ardently desired to get +rid of Madame d'Harville, on whose account she entertained +very serious misgivings, and whose destruction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +she had so nearly compassed, but for the timely +interposition of Rodolph.</p> + +<p>On the day following that in which the marquis +followed his wife into the house in the Rue du Temple, +Tom repaired thither, and, by skilfully drawing Madame +Pipelet into conversation, contrived to learn from her +how a young and elegantly dressed lady, upon the point +of being surprised by her husband, had been preserved +through the presence of mind and cleverness of a lodger +in the house, named M. Rodolph.</p> + +<p>Once informed of this circumstance, and possessing +no positive proof of the assignation made by Clémence +with M. Charles Robert, Sarah conceived a plan evidently +more hateful than the former: she resolved to +despatch a second anonymous letter to M. d'Harville, +calculated to bring about a complete rupture between +himself and Rodolph; or, failing that, to infuse into the +mind of the marquis suspicions so unworthy of his +wife and friend as should induce him to forbid Madame +d'Harville ever admitting the prince into her society.</p> + +<p>This black and malignant epistle was couched in the +following terms:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"... You have been grossly deceived the other day; your +wife, being apprised of your following her, invented a tale of +imaginary beneficence; the real purpose of her visit to the Rue +du Temple was to fulfil an assignation with an august personage, +who has hired a room on the fourth floor in the house situated +Rue du Temple,—this illustrious individual being known only +at his lodging under the simple name of Rodolph. Should you +doubt these facts, which may probably appear to you too improbable +to deserve credit, go to No. 17 Rue du Temple, and make +due inquiries; obtain a description of the face and figure of the +august personage alluded to; and you will be compelled to own +yourself the most credulous and easily duped husband that was +ever so royally supplanted in the affections of his wife. Despise +not this advice, if you would not have the world believe you +carry your devotion to your prince rather too far."</p></div> + +<p>This infamous concoction was put into the post by +Sarah herself, about five o'clock in the afternoon of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +day which had witnessed her interview with the +notary.</p> + +<p>On this same day, after having given renewed directions +to M. de Graün to expedite the arrival of Cecily +in Paris by every means in his power, Rodolph prepared +to pass the evening with the Ambassadress of ——, and +on his return to call on Madame d'Harville, for the +purpose of informing her he had found a charitable +intrigue worthy even of her coöperation.</p> + +<p>We shall now conduct our readers to the hôtel of +Madame d'Harville. The following dialogue will abundantly +prove that, in adopting a tone of kind and gentle +conciliation towards a husband she had hitherto treated +with such invariable coldness and reserve, the heart of +Madame d'Harville had already determined to practise +the sound and virtuous sentiments dictated by Rodolph. +The marquis and his lady had just quitted the dinner-table, +and the scene we are about to describe took place +in the elegant little salon we have already spoken of. +The features of Clémence wore an expression of kindness +almost amounting to tenderness, and even M. d'Harville +appeared less sad and dejected than usual. It only remains +to premise that the marquis had not as yet received the +last infamous production of the pen of Sarah Macgregor.</p> + +<p>"What are your arrangements for this evening?" +inquired M. d'Harville, almost mechanically, of his wife.</p> + +<p>"I have no intention of going out. And what are +your own plans?"</p> + +<p>"I hardly know," answered he, with a sigh. "I feel +more than ordinarily averse to gaiety, and I shall pass +my evening, as I have passed many others, alone."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but why alone, since I am not going out?"</p> + +<p>M. d'Harville gazed at his wife as though unable to +comprehend her. "I am aware," said he, "that you +mentioned your intention to pass this evening at home; +still, I—"</p> + +<p>"Pray go on, my lord."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I did not imagine you would choose to have your +solitude broken in upon. I believe you have always +expressed a wish to be alone when you did not receive +company?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I may have done so," said Clémence, with a +smile; "but let me, for once, plead my sex's privilege +of changing my mind, and so, even at the risk of astonishing +you by my caprice, I will own that I should +greatly prefer sharing my solitude with you,—that is, if +it would be quite agreeable to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how very good of you," exclaimed M. d'Harville, +with much delight, "thus to anticipate my most ardent +desire, which I durst not have requested had you not +so kindly encouraged me!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lord, your very surprise is a severe reproach +to me."</p> + +<p>"A reproach! Oh, not for worlds would I have you +so understand me! But to find you so kindly considerate, +so attentive to my wishes, after my cruel and unjust +conduct the other day, does, I confess, both shame and +surprise me; though the surprise is of the most gratifying +and delightful sort."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my lord," said Madame d'Harville, with +a smile of heavenly sweetness, "let the past be for ever +forgotten between us."</p> + +<p>"Can you, Clémence," said M. d'Harville, "can you +bring yourself to forget that I have dared to suspect you; +that, hurried on by a wild, insensate jealousy, I meditated +violence I now shudder to think of? Still, what are even +these deep offences to the greater and more irreparable +wrong I have done you?"</p> + +<p>"Again I say," returned Clémence, making a violent +effort to command herself, "let us forget the past."</p> + +<p>"What do I hear? Can you,—oh, is it possible you +will pardon me, and forget all the past?"</p> + +<p>"I will try to do so, and I fear not but I shall succeed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Clémence! Can you, indeed, be so generous?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +But no, no,—I dare not hope it! I have long since +resigned all expectation that such happiness would ever +be mine."</p> + +<p>"And now you see how wrong you were in coming +to such a conclusion."</p> + +<p>"But how comes this blessed change? Or do I dream? +Speak to me, Clémence! Tell me I am not deceiving +myself,—that all is not mere illusion! Speak! Say that +I may trust my senses!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed you may; I mean all I have said."</p> + +<p>"And, now I look at you, I see more kindness in your +eye,—your manner is less cold,—your voice tremulous. +Oh, tell me, tell me, is this indeed true? Or am I the +sport of some illusion?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, my lord, all is true, and safely to be believed. +I, too, have need of pardon at your hands, and therefore +I propose that we mutually exchange forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"You, Clémence! You need forgiveness! Oh, for what, +or wherefore?"</p> + +<p>"Have I not been frequently unkind, unrelenting, and +perhaps even cruel, towards you? Ought I not to have +remembered that it required a more than ordinary share +of courage to act otherwise than you did,—a virtue more +than human to renounce the hope of exchanging a cheerless, +solitary life, for one of wedded sympathy and happiness? +Alas, when we are in grief or suffering, it is so +natural to trust to the kindness and goodness of others! +Hitherto your fault has been in depending too much on +my generosity; henceforward it shall be my aim to show +you, you have not trusted in vain."</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on! Go on! Continue still to utter such +heavenly words!" exclaimed M. d'Harville, gazing in +almost ecstasy on the countenance of his wife, and clasping +his hands in fervid supplication. "Let me again +hear you pronounce my pardon, and it will seem as +though a new existence were opening upon me."</p> + +<p>"Our destinies are inseparably united, and death only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +can dissever us. Believe me, it shall for the future be my +study to render life less painful to you than it has been."</p> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven! Do I hear aright? Clémence, can +it be you who have spoken these dear, these enchanting +words?"</p> + +<p>"Let me conjure you to spare me the pain and humiliation +of hearing you express so much astonishment at +my speaking as my duty prompts me to do; indeed, +your reluctance to credit my assertions grieves me more +than I can describe. How cruel a censure does it imply +upon my past conduct! Ah, who will pity and soothe +you in your severe trials, if not I? I seem inspired by +some holy voice, speaking within my breast, to reflect +upon my past conduct. I have deeply meditated on all +that has happened, as well as on the future. My faults +rise up in judgment against me; but with them come +also the whisperings of my awakened feelings, teaching +me how to repair my past errors."</p> + +<p>"Your errors, my poor injured Clémence! Alas, you +were not to blame!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was. I ought frankly to have appealed to +your honour to release me from the painful necessity of +living with you as your wife; and that, too, on the day +following our marriage,—"</p> + +<p>"Clémence, for pity's sake no more!"</p> + +<p>"Otherwise, in accepting my position, I ought to have +elevated it by my entire submission and devotion. Under +the circumstances in which I was placed, instead of allowing +my coldness and proud reserve to act as a continual +reproach, I should have directed all my endeavours to +console you for so heavy a misfortune, and have forgotten +everything but the severe affliction under which you +laboured. By degrees I should have become attached to +my work of commiseration, and, probably, the very cares +and sacrifices it would have required to fulfil my voluntary +duty; for which your grateful appreciation would +have been a rich reward. I might, at last—But what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +ails you, my lord? Are you ill? Surely you are +weeping!"</p> + +<p>"But they are tears of pure delight. Ah, you can +scarcely imagine what new emotions are awakened in my +heart! Heed not my tears, beloved Clémence; trust +me, they flow from an excess of happiness, arising from +those dear words you just now uttered. Never did I +seem so guilty in my own eyes as I now appear, for +having selfishly bound you to such a life as mine!"</p> + +<p>"And never did I find myself more disposed to forget +the past, and to bury all reference to it in oblivion; the +sight of your gently falling tears, even, seems to open to +me a source of happiness hitherto unknown to me. +Courage! Courage! Let us, in place of that bright and +prosperous life denied us by Providence, seek our enjoyment +in the discharge of the serious duties allotted us. +Let us be mutually indulgent and forbearing towards +each other; and, should our resolution fail, let us turn +to our child, and make her the depositary of all our +affections. Thus shall we secure to ourselves an unfailing +store of holy, of tranquil joys."</p> + +<p>"Sure, 'tis some angel speaks!" cried M. d'Harville, +contemplating his wife with impassioned looks. "Oh, +Clémence, you little know the pleasure and the pain +you cause me. The severest reproach you ever addressed +me—your hardest word or most merited rebuke never +touched me as does this angelic devotion, this disregard +of self, this generous sacrifice of personal enjoyment. +Even despite myself, I feel hope spring up within me. +I dare hardly trust myself to believe the blessed future +which suggests itself to my imagination."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you may safely and implicitly believe all I say, +Albert! I declare to you, by all that is sacred and +solemn, that I have firmly taken the resolution I spoke +of, and that I will adhere to it in strictest word and +deed. Hereafter I may even be enabled to give you +further pledges of my truth."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pledges!" exclaimed M. d'Harville, more and more +excited by a happiness so wholly unlocked for. "What +need have I of any pledges? Do not your look, your +tone, the heavenly expression of goodness which animates +your countenance, the rapturous pulsations of my own +heart, all convince me of the truth of your words? +But, Clémence, man, you know, is a creature not easily +satisfied; and," added the marquis, approaching his +wife's chair, "your noble, generous conduct inspires +me with the boldness, the courage, to hope—to hope,—yes, +Clémence, to venture to hope for that which, +only yesterday, I should have considered it even worse +than madness to presume to think of."</p> + +<p>"For mercy's sake, explain yourself!" said Clémence, +alarmed at the impassioned words and glances of her +husband.</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried he, seizing her hand, "yes, by dint of +tender, untiring, unwearied love,—Clémence, do you +understand me?—I say, by dint of love such as mine +I venture to hope to obtain a return of my affection. I +dare to anticipate being loved by you,—not with a cold, +lukewarm regard, but with a passion ardent as my own +for you. Ah, you know not the real nature of such a +love as I would inspire you with! Alas! I never even +dared to breathe it in your ears,—so frigid, so repulsive +were you to me. Never did you bestow on me +a look, a word of kindness, far less make my heart leap +with such joy as thrilled through my breast but now, +when your words of sweet and gentle tenderness drew +happy tears from my eyes, and which, still ringing in +my ears, make me almost beside myself with gladness; +and, amid the intoxicating delight which floats through +my brain, comes the proud consciousness of having +earned even so rich a reward by the deep, the passionate +ardour of my love for you. Oh, Clémence, when +you will let me only tell you half I have suffered,—how +I have writhed in despairing anguish at your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +coldness, your disdain, how I have watched and +sighed in vain for one encouraging glance,—you will +own that, for patient devotion to one beloved object, +I am inferior to none. Whence arose that melancholy, +that avoidance of all society, our best friends have so +fruitlessly sought to rouse me from? Can you not guess +the cause? Ah, it originated in desolation of spirit and +despair of ever obtaining your love. Yes, dearest Clémence, +to that overwhelming dread was owing the +sombre taciturnity, the dislike to company, the desponding +gloom, which excited so many different conjectures. +Think, too, how much my sufferings must have been +increased by the fact that she, the beloved object of +my heart's idolatry, was my own,—legally, irrevocably +mine,—dwelling beneath the same roof, yet more completely +alienated from me than though we dwelt in the +opposite parts of the earth. But my burning sighs, my +bitter tears, reached not you; or, I feel almost persuaded, +they would have moved even you to pity me. And now +it seems to me that you must have divined my sufferings, +and have come, like an angel of goodness as you +are, to whisper in my ears bright promises of days of +unclouded happiness. No longer shall I be doomed +to gaze in unavailing yet doting admiration on your +graceful beauty; no more shall I account myself most +blessed yet most accursed in possessing a creature of +matchless excellence, whose charms of mind and body, +alas! I am forbidden to consider as mine; but now the +envious barrier which has thus long divided us is about +to be withdrawn, and the treasure my beating heart +tells me is all my own will henceforward be freely, indisputably +mine! Will it not, dear Clémence? Speak to +me, and confirm that which the busy throbbings of my +joyful heart tell me to hope for and expect, as the reward +of all I have so long endured!"</p> + +<p>As M. d'Harville uttered these last words, he seized +the hand of his wife, and covered it with passionate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +kisses; while Clémence, much grieved at the mistake +her husband had fallen into, could not avoid withdrawing +her hand with a mixture of terror and disgust. +And the expression of her countenance so plainly bespoke +her feelings, that M. d'Harville saw at once the +fearful error he had committed. The blow fell with +redoubled force after the tender visions he had so lately +conjured up. A look of intense agony replaced the +bright exultation of his countenance exhibited a little +while since, when Madame d'Harville, eagerly extending +her hand towards him, said, in an agitated tone:</p> + +<p>"Albert, receive my solemn promise to be unto you as +the most tender and affectionate sister,—but nothing +more. Forgive me, I beseech you, if, inadvertently, my +words have inspired you with hopes which can never be +realised."</p> + +<p>"Never?" exclaimed M. d'Harville, fixing on his +wife a look of despairing entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Never!" answered she. The single word, with the +tone in which it was spoken, proved but too well the +irrevocable decision Clémence had formed.</p> + +<p>Brought back, by the influence of Rodolph, to all her +nobleness of character, Madame d'Harville had firmly +resolved to bestow on her husband every kind and +affectionate attention; but to love him she felt utterly +out of her power; and to this immutable resolution +she was driven by a power more forcible than either +fear, contempt, or even dislike,—it was a species +of repugnance almost amounting to horror.</p> + +<p>After a painful silence of some duration, M. d'Harville +passed his hand across his moist eyelids and said, in a +voice of bitterness:</p> + +<p>"Let me entreat your pardon for the unintentional +mistake I have made. Oh, refuse not to forgive me for +having ventured to believe that happiness could exist +for me!"</p> + +<p>And again a long pause ensued, broken at last by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +D'Harville's vehemently exclaiming, "What a wretch +am I!"</p> + +<p>"Albert," said Clémence, gently, "for worlds would +I not reproach you; yet is my promise of being unto +you the most loving and affectionate of sisters unworthy +any estimation? You will receive from the tender cares +of devoted friendship more solid happiness than love +could afford. Look forward to brighter days. Hitherto +you have found me almost indifferent to your sorrows; +you shall henceforward find me all zeal and solicitude +to alleviate them, and eager to share with you every +grief or cause of suffering, whether of body or of mind."</p> + +<p>At this moment a servant, throwing open the folding +doors, announced:</p> + +<p>"His Highness the Grand Duke of Gerolstein."</p> + +<p>M. d'Harville started; then, by a powerful effort, +recovering his self-command, he advanced to meet his +visitor.</p> + +<p>"I am singularly fortunate, madame," said Rodolph, +approaching Clémence, "to find you at home to-night; +and I am still more delighted with my good fortune, +since it procures me the pleasure of meeting you, +also, my dear Albert," continued he, turning to the +marquis, and shaking him cordially by the hand.</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed, some time since I have had the honour +of paying my respects to your royal highness."</p> + +<p>"If the truth must be spoken, my dear Albert," said +the prince, smilingly, "you are somewhat platonic in +your friendships, and, relying on the certain attachment +of your friends, care very little about either giving or +receiving any outward proof of affection."</p> + +<p>By a breach of etiquette, which somewhat annoyed +Madame d'Harville, a servant here entered the room +with a letter for the marquis. It was the anonymous +epistle of Sarah, accusing Rodolph of being the lover of +Madame d'Harville.</p> + +<p>The marquis, out of deference for the prince, put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +away with his hand the small silver salver presented +to him by the servant, saying, in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"Another time,—another time."</p> + +<p>"My dear Albert," said Rodolph, in a voice of the +most genuine affection, "why all this ceremony with +me?"</p> + +<p>"My lord!"</p> + +<p>"With Madame d'Harville's permission, let me beg of +you to read your letter without delay."</p> + +<p>"I assure you, my lord, it is not of the slightest +consequence."</p> + +<p>"Again I say, Albert, read your letter all the same +for my being here."</p> + +<p>"But, my lord, indeed—"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I ask you to do so; or, if you will have it, +I desire you to read it immediately."</p> + +<p>"If your highness commands it, my duty is obedience," +said the marquis, taking the letter from the +salver.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I positively command you to treat me as one +old friend ought to treat another." Then turning +towards Madame d'Harville, while the marquis was +breaking the seal of the fatal letter, the contents of +which were, of course, unknown to Rodolph, he said, +smilingly, to Madame d'Harville:</p> + +<p>"What a triumph for you, madame, to bend this +untractable spirit, and make it bow to your very +caprice!"</p> + +<p>M. d'Harville having opened Sarah's infamous letter, +approached the wax-lights burning on the mantelpiece, +the better to read it. His features bore no visible mark +of agitation as he perused the vile scrawl. A slight +trembling of the hand alone was visible, as, after a short +hesitation, he refolded the paper and placed it in the +pocket of his waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"At the risk of passing for a perfect Goth," said he, +with a smile, to Rodolph, "I will ask you to excuse me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +my lord, while I retire to reply to this letter, which is +more important than it at first appeared."</p> + +<p>"Shall I not see you again this evening?"</p> + +<p>"I am fearful I shall not have that honour, my lord; +and I trust your royal highness will condescend to excuse +me."</p> + +<p>"What a slippery person you are!" cried Rodolph, +gaily. "Will you not, madame, endeavour to prevent +his quitting us?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I dare not attempt that your highness has failed +to accomplish."</p> + +<p>"But seriously, my dear Albert, endeavour to come +back as soon as you have concluded your letter; or, if +that is not possible, promise to give me a few minutes +in the morning. I have a thousand things to say to +you."</p> + +<p>"Your highness overwhelms me with kindness," +answered the marquis, as, bowing profoundly, he withdrew, +leaving Clémence and the prince alone.</p> + +<p>"Your husband has some heavy care on his mind," +observed Rodolph to the marquise; "his smile appeared +to me a forced one."</p> + +<p>"At the moment of your highness's arrival, M. d'Harville +was much excited, and he has had great difficulty +in concealing his agitation from you."</p> + +<p>"My visit was, probably, <i>mal à propos</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, my lord! You came just in time to spare +me the conclusion of a most painful conversation."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! May I inquire the subject of it?"</p> + +<p>"I had explained to M. d'Harville the line of conduct +I had determined to pursue towards him for the future, +assuring him of my future sympathy and affectionate +attention to his happiness."</p> + +<p>"How happy you must have rendered him by such +gratifying words!"</p> + +<p>"He did, indeed, at first, seem most truly happy; and +so was I, likewise; for his tears and his joys caused in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +me a feeling of delight I never before experienced. Once +I fancied I did but indulge a just revenge each time I +addressed to him a reproach or a sarcasm; but it was +a weak and impotent mode of torture, which always +recoiled upon myself, as my better judgment pointed out +the unworthiness of such conduct; while just now how +great was the difference! I had inquired of my husband +if he were going out, to which he mournfully replied +that he had no intention of so doing, but should pass the +evening alone, as he most frequently did. Ah, my lord, +could you but have seen his surprise when I offered to +be his companion, and how suddenly did the gloomy +expression of his features give place to a bright glow +of happiness! Ah, you were quite right, there is nothing +more really delightful than preparing happy surprises +for those around us."</p> + +<p>"But how could so much kindness on your part have +brought about the painful conversation you were alluding +to just now?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, my lord!" said Clémence, blushing deeply, +"M. d'Harville, not satisfied with the hopes I felt myself +justified in holding out, allowed himself to form others +of a nature too tender to admit of their being realised, +and in proportion to my consciousness of my utter +inability to respond to such sentiments had been my +anxiety not to arouse them; and, greatly as I had felt +touched by the warmth of my husband's gratitude for my +proffered affection, I was even still more terrified and +alarmed by the passionate ardour of his manner and +expressions; and when, carried away by the impetuosity +of his feelings, he pressed his lips upon my hand, a cold +shudder pervaded my whole frame, and I found it impossible +to conceal the disgust and alarm I experienced. +Doubtless this manifestation of my invincible repugnance +pained him deeply, and I much lament having +been unable to prevent his perceiving my feelings. But +now that the blow has fallen, it will, at least, serve to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +convince M. d'Harville of the utter impossibility of my +ever being more to him than the most tender and devoted +friend."</p> + +<p>"I pity him most sincerely, without being able to +blame you in the slightest degree for the part you have +acted. There are certain feelings which must ever be +held sacred. But poor Albert! With his noble, generous +spirit, his frank, confiding nature, his warm, enthusiastic +heart,—if you only knew how long I have been vainly +trying to discover the cause of the hidden melancholy +which was evidently preying upon his health. Well, we +must trust to the soothing effects of time and reason. +By degrees he will become more sensible of the value of +the affection you offer him, and he will resign himself +as he did before, when he had not the consolatory hopes +you now present to his view."</p> + +<p>"Hopes which I solemnly assure you, my lord, it +is my fixed determination to realise in their fullest +extent."</p> + +<p>"And now let us turn our attention to others who are +also called upon to suffer and taste of heavy sorrows. +You know I promised to occupy you in a charitable +work, which should have all the charm of a romance of +real life; and I am here to perform my promise."</p> + +<p>"What, already, my lord? Indeed, you rejoice me +greatly."</p> + +<p>"It was a most fortunate idea of mine to hire the +small chamber I told you of in the Rue du Temple; you +can scarcely imagine all the curious and interesting +objects it has made me acquainted with. In the first +place your poor protégées in the garrets are now enjoying +that happiness your presence secured to them. They +have still some severe trials to undergo; but I will not +enter upon the painful details at the present moment. +One of these days you shall learn how many direful evils +may be heaped upon one unfortunate family."</p> + +<p>"How grateful they must feel towards you!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nay, 'tis your name is ever on their lips, loaded with +praises and blessings."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lord, is it then in my name you have +succoured them?"</p> + +<p>"To increase the value of the gift, I confess I did +presume to name you as their benefactress. Besides, +what have I done more than carry out your promises?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot allow of even this pious fraud, and to-morrow +they shall learn from me whom they have to thank. +I will tell them the extent of their obligations to +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray do no such thing, or you will spoil all my +fine schemes. Remember that I have a small apartment +in the house; that for the sake of much good I hope to +effect, I am anxious to preserve a strict <i>incognito</i> there. +Recollect, also, that the Morels are now beyond the reach +of further distress; and, finally, let me remind you that +there are other claimants for your benevolence. And +now for the subject of our present intrigue. I want your +generous aid and assistance in behalf of a mother and +daughter, who from former affluence are at this moment +reduced to the most abject penury, in consequence of +having been most villainously despoiled of their just +rights."</p> + +<p>"Poor things! And where do these unfortunate beings +reside, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Then how did you become acquainted with their +misfortunes?"</p> + +<p>"Yesterday I was at the Temple,—perhaps, Madame +la Marquise, you do not know what sort of place the +Temple is?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, my lord, I do not."</p> + +<p>"It is a bazaar of the most amusing description. Well, +I went there for the purpose of making several purchases +in company with a female lodger who occupies an apartment +adjoining my own—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed! A female neighbour?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my next-door neighbour on the fourth floor. +Don't you recollect I told you I had a chamber in the +Rue du Temple?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, my lord, I had quite forgotten that +circumstance."</p> + +<p>"I must tell you that this same neighbour is one of +the prettiest little mantua-makers you ever saw. She is +called Rigolette, is for ever laughing, and never was in +love."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, a most uncommon specimen of her +class!"</p> + +<p>"She even admits that her indifference to the tender +passion arises less from prudence than because she has +not time to think about love or lovers, both of which she +says would take up too much of her time; as, working +from twelve to fifteen hours daily, it is with difficulty +she manages to earn twenty-five sous a day, yet on that +trifling sum she lives contentedly."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"Possible! Why, she even launches out into luxuries,—has +a couple of birds, who consume as much food as +herself, arranges her chamber with the most scrupulous +and pretty neatness, while her dress would make a modern +belle grow pale with envy."</p> + +<p>"And all this effected upon five and twenty sous a +day? It is almost difficult to believe it."</p> + +<p>"I assure you my fair neighbour is a pattern of +industry, order, economy, and practical philosophy; and +as such I beg to recommend her to your notice in her +capacity of dressmaker, in which she is reported to have +much skill. If you will honour her with your commands, +her fortune will be surely made; although +there is no occasion for your carrying your beneficence +so far as to wear the dresses you permit her +to make."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will take care to give her employment immediately.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +Poor girl! living honestly and contentedly +upon a sum squandered by the rich for the most +trifling whim or caprice."</p> + +<p>"Well, now then that you have undertaken to interest +yourself in my deserving young neighbour, let us proceed +to the little adventure I was about to relate to you. I +went, as I told you, to the Temple with Mlle. Rigolette +in order to purchase many articles necessary for the +comfort of the poor family in the garret, when, accidentally +examining the drawers of an old <i>secrétaire</i> exposed +for sale, I found the fragment of a letter in a female +hand, in which the writer bitterly deplored the destitution +to which herself and daughter were exposed in +consequence of the villainy of the person in whose +hands their money had been placed. I inquired of +the mistress of the shop how she became possessed +of the piece of furniture in question. She told me it +was part of a lot of very common household goods she +purchased of a person still young, who had evidently +disposed of all her effects from stern necessity, and +being without any other means of raising money. Both +mother and daughter, continued my informant, seemed +much superior to their condition, and each bore their +distress with a proud yet calm fortitude."</p> + +<p>"And do you not know where these poor ladies can +be found, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"I do not, unfortunately, at the present moment, but +I have given directions to M. de Graün to use every +effort to discover them, and, if needs must be, even to +apply to the police for assistance. It is just probable +that the unfortunate parent and child, finding themselves +stripped of their little stock of furniture, may +have sought refuge in some obscure lodging; and if so, +there is every chance of discovering their abode, since +the keepers of lodging-houses are obliged to write a +daily report of every fresh inmate they receive."</p> + +<p>"What a singular combination of events!" said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +Madame d'Harville, much astonished: "Your account +is, indeed, a most interesting one."</p> + +<p>"You have not heard all yet. In a corner of the +fragment of writing found in the old <i>secrétaire</i>, are +these words, 'To write to Madame de Lucenay.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how fortunate!" exclaimed Madame d'Harville, +with much animation. "No doubt the duchess can tell +me all about these unfortunate ladies. But then," added +she, thoughtfully, "I do not see, after all, how we shall +be able to describe them, as we do not even know their +name."</p> + +<p>"Nay, it will be easy to inquire whether she is +acquainted with a widow still in the prime of life, +whose air and manner indicate her being far superior +to her present circumstances, and who has a daughter +about sixteen years of age named Claire. I am sure it +was Claire the woman told me the younger female was +called."</p> + +<p>"How very strange! That is my child's name; and +furnishes an additional reason for my interesting myself +in their misfortunes."</p> + +<p>"I forgot to tell you that the brother of this unhappy +widow died by his own hands a very few months ago."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville was silent for some minutes, as +though reflecting deeply; at length she said:</p> + +<p>"If Madame de Lucenay be in any way acquainted +with this unfortunate family, these particulars will be +quite sufficient to identify them; besides which the +lamentable end of the brother must have fixed every +circumstance connected with them more strongly in +her memory. How impatient I feel to question the +duchess on the subject! I will write her a note this +very evening, begging of her not to go out to-morrow +till I have seen her. Who can these interesting people +be? From your account, my lord, I should say they +certainly belong to the higher class of society, and must, +therefore, feel their present distress so much the more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +keenly. Alas, to such as they the falling into such +utter destitution must inflict a deeper, keener sting!"</p> + +<p>"And all their sufferings have arisen from the +knavery of an unprincipled scoundrel,—a notary, named +Jacques Ferrand. But I am in possession of other acts +of villainy on his part equally black with this."</p> + +<p>"That is the name of the person acting as the +legal adviser both of my husband and mother-in-law," +exclaimed Clémence; "and, indeed, my lord, I think +you must be mistaken in your opinion of him, for he +is universally regarded as a person of the strictest +honour and probity."</p> + +<p>"I assure you I have the most irrefragable proofs +of what I assert. Meanwhile let me beg of you to be +perfectly silent as to the character I assign this man, +who is as subtle as unprincipled; and the better to +unmask his nefarious practices, it is necessary he +should be allowed to think himself secure from all +danger; a few days will enable me to perfect my +schemes for bringing him to a severe reckoning. He +it was who brought such unmerited affliction upon the +interesting females I have been telling you of, by +defrauding them of a large sum, which, it appears, +was consigned to his care by the brother of the +unfortunate widow."</p> + +<p>"And this money?"</p> + +<p>"Was their sole dependence."</p> + +<p>"This is, indeed, a crime of the most heinous description!"</p> + +<p>"'Tis, indeed, of blackest die," exclaimed Rodolph, +"having nothing to extenuate it, and originating neither +in passion nor necessity. The pangs of hunger will often +instigate a man to commit a theft, the thirst for revenge +lead on to murder; but this legal hypocrite is passing +rich, and invested, by common consent, with a character +of almost priestly sanctity, while his countenance and +manners are moulded with such studious art as to inspire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +and command universal confidence. The assassin kills +you at a blow,—this villain tortures, prolongs your sufferings, +and leaves you, after the death-blow has been +inflicted, to sink under the gnawing agonies of want, +misery, and despair. Nothing is safe from the cupidity +of such a man as Ferrand: the inheritance of the orphan, +the hard-earned savings of the laborious poor,—all +excite alike his unprincipled avarice; and that which in +other men arises out of the impulse of the moment is +with this wretch the result of a cold and unrelenting calculation. +You entrust him with your wealth,—to see it +is to covet it, and with him to desire is to possess himself, +without the smallest scruple. Totally unheeding +your future wretchedness, the grasping deceiver deprives +you of your property, and without a pang consigns you to +beggary and destitution. Suppose that, by a long course +of labour and privations, you have contrived to amass a +provision against the wants and infirmities of old age; +well, no sooner is this cold-blooded hypocrite made the +depositary of your little treasure, than he unhesitatingly +appropriates it, leaving you to drag on a miserable existence, +without a morsel of bread but such as the hand of +charity doles out to you. Nor is this all. Let us consider +the fearful consequences of these infamous acts of +spoliation. Take the case of the widow of whom we +were speaking just now,—imagine her dying of grief +and a crushed spirit, the results of her heavy afflictions; +she leaves a young and helpless girl to struggle alone in +the world,—a weak and delicate being, whose very loveliness +increases her dangers and difficulties. Without +friends or support, unaccustomed to the rough realities +of life, the poor orphan has but to choose between starvation +and dishonour. In an evil hour she falls, and becomes +a lost, degraded creature. And thus Jacques Ferrand, +by his dishonest appropriation of the things committed +to his charge, occasions not only the death of the mother, +but the dishonour of the child; he destroys the body of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +the one and the soul of the other,—and again, I say, not +with the merciful despatch of the assassin's dagger, but +by the slow tortures of lingering cruelty!"</p> + +<p>Clémence listened in profound silence, not unmixed +with surprise, at hearing Rodolph express himself with +so much indignation and bitterness. Accustomed only +to witness the most urbane suavity in the tone and manner +of her guest, she felt more than ordinarily struck by +his vehement and excited language; which, however, +seemed to show his intense abhorrence of all crooked +and nefarious dealings.</p> + +<p>"I must entreat your pardon, madame," said the prince, +after a pause, "for having permitted myself to use so +much warmth in the presence of a lady; but, in truth, I +could not restrain my indignation when I reflected on all +the horrible dangers which may overwhelm your future +protégées. But, be assured, it is quite impossible to +exaggerate those fearful consequences brought about by +ruin and misery."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Indeed, my lord, you rather merit my +thanks, for having so powerfully and energetically augmented, +if possible, the tender pity I feel for this unfortunate +parent, whose heart is, doubtless, wrung with +anguish rather for her young and innocent daughter +than for herself. It is, in truth, a fearful situation. +But we shall soon be enabled to relieve her mind, and +rescue her from her present misery, shall we not, my +lord? Oh, yes, I feel assured we shall,—and henceforward +their happiness shall be my care. I am rich,—though +not so much so as I could wish, now that I perceive +how worthily wealth may be employed; but should +there be occasion for further aid than I am enabled to +afford, I will apply to M. d'Harville in their behalf. I +will render him so happy, that he shall find it impossible +to refuse any of my new caprices, and I foresee that I +shall have plenty of them. You told me, did you not, +my lord, that our protégées are proud? So much the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +better. I am better pleased to find them so; for pride +under unmerited misfortune always betokens a great and +elevated mind. But I shall be able to overreach them, +for I will so contrive that they shall be relieved from +their present misery without ever guessing to what channel +they owe their deliverance from misery. You think +I shall find it difficult to deceive them? So much the +better. Oh, I have my own plans of action, I can assure +you, my lord; and you will see that I shall be deficient +neither in cunning nor address."</p> + +<p>"I fully anticipate the most Machiavelian system of +ruse and deep combination," said Rodolph, smiling.</p> + +<p>"But we must, first of all, discover where they are. +Oh, how I wish to-morrow were come! When I leave +Madame de Lucenay, I shall go directly to their old residence, +make inquiries of their late neighbours, collect all +the information I can, and form my own conclusions from +all I see and hear. I should feel so proud and delighted +to work out all the good I intend to these poor ladies, +without being assisted by any person; and I shall accomplish +it,—I feel sure I shall. This adventure affects me +greatly. Poor things! I seem even to feel a livelier +interest in their misfortunes when I think of my own +child."</p> + +<p>Deeply touched at this charitable warmth, Rodolph +smiled with sincere commiseration at seeing a young +creature of scarcely twenty years of age, seeking to lose, +amid occupations so pure and noble, the sense of the +severe domestic afflictions which bore so heavily upon +her. The eyes of Clémence sparkled with enthusiasm, a +delicate carnation tinged her pale cheek, while the animation +of her words and gestures imparted additional +beauty to her lovely countenance.</p> + +<p>The close and silent scrutiny of Rodolph did not escape +the notice of Madame d'Harville. She blushed, looked +down for a few minutes, then, raising her eyes in sweet +confusion, said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I see, my lord, you are amused at my girlish eagerness. +But, in truth, I am impatient to taste those +sources of delight which are about to gild an existence +hitherto so replete with grief and sadness, and, unfortunately, +so useless to every one. Alas, this was not the +life my early dreams had pictured to me,—the one +great passion of life I must for ever renounce! Though +young, I must live, and act, and think, as though scores +of years had passed over my head. Alas, alas!" continued +Clémence, with a sigh, "to me is denied the dear +domestic joys my heart could so fondly have prized." +After a minute's pause she resumed: "But why should +I dwell on such vain and fruitless regrets? Thanks to +you, my lord, charity will replace the void left in my +heart by disappointed affection. Already have I owed +to your counsels the enjoyment of the most touching +emotions. Your words, my lord, affect me deeply, and +exercise unbounded influence over me. The more I +meditate on what you have advanced, the more I search +into its real depth and value, the more I am struck by +its vast power and truth, the more just and valuable +does it appear to me. Then, when I reflect that, not +satisfied with sympathising with sufferings of which you +can form no idea from actual experience, you aid me +with the most salutary counsels, and guide me, step by +step, in the new and delightful path of virtue and goodness +pointed out by you to relieve a weary and worn-out +heart, oh, my lord, what treasure of all that is good +must your mind contain! From what source have you +drawn so large a supply of tender pity for the woes +of all?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, the secret of my sincere commiseration with +the woes of others consists in my having deeply suffered +myself,—nay, in still sighing over heavy sorrows none +can alleviate or cure."</p> + +<p>"You, my lord! Surely you cannot have tasted thus +bitterly of grief and misfortune?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, 'tis even so. I sometimes think that I have +been made to taste of nearly every bitter which fills our +cup of worldly sorrows, the better to fit me for sympathising +with all descriptions of worldly trials. Wounded +and sorely afflicted as a friend, a husband, and a parent, +what grief can there be in which I am not qualified to +participate?"</p> + +<p>"I always understood, my lord, that your late wife, +the grand duchess, left no child?"</p> + +<p>"True; but, before I became her husband, I was the +father of a daughter, who died quite young. And, however +you may smile at the idea, I can with truth assert +that the loss of that child has poisoned all my subsequent +days. And this grief increases with my years. +Each succeeding hour but redoubles the poignancy of my +regrets, which, far from abating, appear to grow,—strengthen, +even as my daughter would have done had +she been spared me. She would now have been in her +seventeenth year."</p> + +<p>"And her mother," asked Clémence, after a trifling +hesitation, "is she still living?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, name her not, I beseech you!" exclaimed +Rodolph, whose features became suddenly overcast at +this reference to Sarah. "She to whom you allude is a +vile, unworthy woman, whose feelings are completely +buried beneath the cold selfishness and ambition of her +nature. Sometimes I even ask myself whether it is not +better that my child has been removed by death than +for her to have been contaminated by the example of +such a mother."</p> + +<p>Clémence could not restrain a feeling of satisfaction +at hearing Rodolph thus express himself. "In that +case," said she, "I can imagine how doubly you must +bewail the loss of your only object of affection!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I should have doted on my child! For it +seems to me that, among princes, there is always mixed +up with the affection we bear a son, a sort of interested<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +regard for the being destined to perpetuate our race,—a +kind of political calculation. But a daughter!—oh, +she is loved for herself alone! And when, alas! one is +weary of witnessing the many fearful pictures of fallen +humanity an intercourse with the world compels us to +behold, what joy to turn from the dark pictures of guilt +and crime to refresh ourselves by the contemplation of +a young and innocent mind, and to delight in watching +the unfolding of all those pure and tender feelings so +guilelessly true to nature! The proudest, the happiest +mother feels not half the exquisite joy of a father in +observing the gradual development of a daughter's character. +A mother will dwell with far greater rapture +on the bold and manly qualities of a son. For have +you never remarked that the cause which still further +cements the doting affection of a mother for her son, +or a father for his daughter, is the feeling of either +requiring or bestowing aid and protection? Thus, the +mother looks upon her son in the light of a future support +and protection; while the father beholds in his +young and helpless daughter a weak and fragile creature, +clinging to him for safety, counsel, and protection from +all the storms of life."</p> + +<p>"True, my lord,—most true!"</p> + +<p>"But what avails it thus to dwell on sources of +delight for ever lost to me?" cried Rodolph, in a +voice of the deepest dejection. His mournful tones +sunk into the very heart of Clémence, who could not +restrain a tear, which trickled slowly down her cheek. +After a short pause, during which the prince, making a +powerful effort to restrain himself, and feeling almost +ashamed of allowing his feelings thus to get the better +of him in the presence of Madame d'Harville, said, with +a smile of infinite sadness, "Your pardon, madame, +for thus allowing myself to be drawn away by the +remembrance of my past griefs!"</p> + +<p>"I beseech you, my lord, make no apology to me;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +but, on the contrary, believe that I most sincerely sympathise +with your very natural regrets. Have I not a +right to share your griefs, for have I not made you +a participator in mine? My greatest pain is, that the +only consolation I could offer you would be vain and +useless to assuage your grief."</p> + +<p>"Not so; the very expression of your kind commiseration +is grateful and beneficial to me; and I +find it a relief to disburden my mind, and tell you +all I suffer. But, courage!" added Rodolph, with a +faint and melancholy smile; "the conversation of this +evening entirely reassures me on your account. A safe +and healthful path is opened to you, by following which +you will escape the trials and dangers so fatal to many +of your sex, and, still more so, for those as highly +endowed as yourself. You will have much to endure, +to struggle against, and contend with; but in proportion +to the difficulties of your position will be your +merit in overcoming them. You are too young and +lovely to escape without a severe ordeal; but, should +your courage ever fail you, the recollection, not only of +the good you have done, but also that you propose to +effect, will serve to strengthen your virtuous resolutions, +and arm you with fresh courage."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville melted into tears.</p> + +<p>"At least," said she, "promise me your counsels and +advice shall never fail me. May I depend on this, my +lord?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, indeed, you may. Whether near or afar off, +believe that I shall ever feel the most lively interest in +your welfare and well-doing; and, so far as in me lies, +will I devote my best services to promote your happiness, +or that of the man whom I glory in calling my +dearest friend."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, my lord," said Clémence, drying her tears, +"for this consoling promise. But for your generous +aid, I feel too well that my own strength would fail me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +Still I bind myself now, and in your presence, faithfully +and courageously to perform my duty, however hard or +painful that duty may be."</p> + +<p>As Clémence uttered these last words, a small door, +concealed by the hangings, suddenly opened; and M. +d'Harville, pale, agitated, and evidently labouring under +considerable excitement, appeared before Madame d'Harville +and Rodolph. The latter involuntarily started, while +a faint cry escaped the lips of the astonished wife.</p> + +<p>The first surprise over, the marquis handed to Rodolph +the letter received from Sarah, saying:</p> + +<p>"Here, my lord, is the letter I but just now received +in your presence. Have the kindness to cast your eyes +over it, and afterwards commit it to the flames."</p> + +<p>Clémence gazed on her husband with utter astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Most infamous!" exclaimed Rodolph, indignantly, +as he finished the perusal of the vile scrawl.</p> + +<p>"Nay, my lord, there is an act more dastardly even +than the sending an anonymous letter; and that act +I have committed."</p> + +<p>"For the love of heaven, explain yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Instead of at once fearlessly and candidly showing +you this letter, I concealed its contents from you. I +feigned calmness and tranquillity, while jealousy, rage, +and despair filled my heart. Nor is this all. To what +detestable meanness do you suppose, my lord, my ungoverned +passions led me? Why, to enact the part of a spy,—to +hide myself basely and contemptibly behind this +door, to overhear your conversation and espy your actions. +Yes, hate me, despise me as you will, I merit all +for having insulted you by a suspicion. Oh, the writer +of these fiendish letters knew well the culpable weakness +of him to whom they were addressed. But, after all +I have heard,—for not a word has escaped me, and I +now know the nature of the interest which attracts you +to frequent the Rue du Temple,—after having, by my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +mean and unworthy jealousy, given support to the base +calumny by believing it even for an instant, how can +I hope for pardon, though I sue for it upon my knees? +Still, still, I venture to implore from you, so superior to +myself in nobleness and generosity of soul, pity, and, if +you can, forgiveness for the wrong I have done you!"</p> + +<p>"No more of this, my dear Albert," said Rodolph, +extending his hands towards his friend with the most +touching cordiality; "you have nothing to ask pardon +for. Indeed, I feel quite delighted to find you have discovered +the secrets of Madame d'Harville and myself. +Now that all further restraint is at an end, I shall be +able to lecture you as much and as frequently as I choose. +But, what is better still, you are now installed as the +confidant of Madame d'Harville,—that is to say, you +now know what to expect from a heart so pure, so +generous, and so noble as hers."</p> + +<p>"And you, Clémence," said M. d'Harville, sorrowfully, +to his wife, "can you forgive me my last unworthy act, +in addition to the just causes you already have to hate +and despise me?"</p> + +<p>"On one condition," said she, extending her hand +towards her husband, which he warmly and tenderly +pressed, "that you promise to aid me in all my schemes +for promoting and securing your happiness!"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, my dear marquis," exclaimed +Rodolph, "our enemies have shown themselves bunglers +after all! They have afforded you an opportunity +you might never otherwise have obtained, of rightly +appreciating the tender devotion of your incomparable +wife, whose affection for you, I venture to say, has +shone out more brightly and steadily under the machinations +of those who seek to render us miserable, than +amidst all the former part of your wedded life; so that +we are enabled to take a sweet revenge for the mischief +intended to be effected: that is some consolation, while +awaiting a fuller atonement for this diabolical attempt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +I strongly suspect the quarter from which this scheme +has emanated; and however patiently I may bear my +own wrongs, I am not of a nature to suffer those offered +to my friends to remain unpunished. This, however, is +my affair. Adieu, madame,—our intrigue is discovered; +and you will be no more at liberty to work alone in +befriending your protégées. But, never mind! Before +long we will get up some mysterious enterprise, impossible +to be found out; and we will even defy the marquis, +with all his penetration, to know more than we +choose to tell him."</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>After accompanying Rodolph to his carriage with +reiterated thanks and praises, the marquis retired to +his apartments without again seeing Clémence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + +<h5>REFLECTIONS.</h5> + + +<p>It would be difficult to describe the tumultuous and +opposing sentiments that agitated M. d'Harville when +alone. He reflected with delight on the detection of +the unworthy falsehood charged upon Rodolph and +Clémence; but he was, at the same time, thoroughly +convinced that he must for ever forego the hope of being +loved by her. The more Clémence had proved herself, +in her conversation with Rodolph, resigned, full of courage, +and bent on acting rightly, the more bitterly did +M. d'Harville reproach himself for having, in his culpable +egotism, chained the lot of his unhappy young wife to +his own. Far from being consoled by the conversation +he had overheard, he fell into a train of sorrowful +thought and indescribable anguish.</p> + +<p>Riches, without occupation, bring with them this +wretchedness. Nothing can divert it, nothing relieve it, +from the deepest feelings of mental torture. Not being +compulsorily preoccupied by cares for the future or daily +toil, it is utterly exposed to heavy moral affliction. Able +to acquire all that money can purchase, it desires or +regrets with intense violence—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What gold could never buy."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The mental torture of M. d'Harville was intense, for, +after all, what he desired was only what was just, and +actually legal,—the society, if not the love, of his wife.</p> + +<p>But, when placed beside the inexorable refusal of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +Clémence, he asked himself if there was not the bitterest +derision in these words of the law: The wife +belongs to her husband.</p> + +<p>To what influence, to what means could he have +recourse to subdue this coldness, this repugnance, which +turned his whole existence into one long punishment, +since he could not—ought not—would not love any +woman but his wife?</p> + +<p>He could not but see in this, as in many other positions +of conjugal life, the simple will of the husband or +the wife imperatively substituted, without appeal or possibility +of prevention, for the sovereign will of the law.</p> + +<p>To the paroxysms of vain anger there succeeded a +melancholy depression. The future weighed him down, +heavy, dull, and chill. He only saw before him the +grief that would doubtless render more frequent the +attacks of his fearful malady.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he exclaimed, at once in tears and despair, +"it is my fault,—it is my fault! Poor, unhappy girl! +I deceived her,—shamefully deceived her! She must,—she +ought to hate me; and yet but now she displayed +the deepest interest in me, and, instead of contenting +myself with that, my mad passion led me away, and I +became tender. I spoke of my love, and scarcely had +my lips touched her hand than she became startled, and +bounded with fright. If I could for a moment have +doubted the invincible repugnance with which I inspire +her, what she said to the prince must for ever destroy +that illusion. Ah, it is frightful,—frightful! By what +right has she confided to him this hideous secret? It is +an unworthy betrayal! By what right?—alas, by the +right the victim has to complain of its executioner! Poor +girl! So young,—so loving! All she could find most +cruel to say against the horrid existence I have entailed +upon her was, that such was not the lot of which she had +dreamed, and that she was very young to renounce all +hopes of love! I know Clémence, and the word she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +gave me,—the word she gave to the prince,—she will +abide by for ever. She will be to me the tenderest of +sisters! Well, is not my position still most enviable? +To the cold and constrained demeanour which existed +between us will succeed affectionate and gentle intercourse, +whilst she might have treated me always with +icy disdain of which it was impossible that I could complain. +So, then, I will console myself by the enjoyment +of what she offers to me. Shall I not be too happy +then?—too happy? Ah, how weak I am! How cowardly! +Is she not my wife, after all? Is she not mine and mine +only? Does not the law recognise my right over her? +My wife refuses, but is not the right on my side?" he +interrupted himself, with a burst of sardonic laughter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes,—be violent, eh? What, another infamy? +But what can I do? For I love her yet,—love her to +madness! I love her and her only! I want but her,—her +love, and not the lukewarm regard of a sister. Ah, +at last she must have pity; she is so kind, and she will +see how unhappy I am! But no, no! Never! Mine +is a case of estrangement which a woman never can +surmount. Disgust,—yes, disgust,—I cannot but +see it,—disgust! I must convince myself that it is my +horrid infirmity that frightens her, and always must,—always +must!" exclaimed M. d'Harville, in his fearful +excitement.</p> + +<p>After a moment of gloomy silence, he continued:</p> + +<p>"This anonymous attack, which accused the prince and +my wife, comes from the hand of an enemy; and yet, +but an hour ago, before I saw through it, I suspected him. +Him!—to believe him capable of such base treachery! +And my wife, too, I included in the same suspicion! Ah, +jealousy is incurable! And yet I must not abuse myself. +If the prince, who loves me as his best and dearest friend, +has made Clémence promise to occupy her mind and +heart in charitable works, if he promises her his advice, +his support, it is because she requires advice, needs support.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +And, indeed, lovely and young, and surrounded +as she is, and without that love in her heart which protects +and even almost excuses her wrongs through mine, +which are so atrocious, must she not fall? Another +torturing thought! What I have suffered when I +thought her guilty,—fallen,—Heaven knows what +agony! But, no; the fear is vain! Clémence has +sworn never to fail in her duties, and she will keep her +promise,—strictly keep it! But at what a price! At +what a price! But now, when she turned towards me +with affectionate language, what agony did I feel at the +sight of her gentle, sad, and resigned smile! How much +this return to me must have cost! Poor love! how lovely +and affecting she seemed at that moment! For the first +time I felt a fierce remorse, for, up to that moment, +her haughty coldness had sufficiently avenged her. Oh, +wretch!—wretch that I am!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>After a long and sleepless night, spent in bitter reflections, +the agitation of M. d'Harville ceased, as if by +enchantment. He had come to an unalterable resolution. +He awaited daybreak with excessive impatience.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Early in the morning he rang for his <i>valet de chambre</i>.</p> + +<p>When old Joseph entered his master's room, to his +great surprise he heard him hum a hunting song,—a +sign, as rare as certain, that M. d'Harville was in good +humour.</p> + +<p>"Ah, M. le Marquis," said the faithful old servant, +quite affected, "what a charming voice you have! +What a pity that you do not sing more frequently!"</p> + +<p>"Really, Joseph, have I a charming voice?" said M. +d'Harville, smiling.</p> + +<p>"If M. le Marquis had a voice as hoarse as a night +raven or as harsh as a rattle, I should still think he had +a charming voice."</p> + +<p>"Be silent, you flatterer!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, when you sing, M. le Marquis, it is a sign you +are happy, and then your voice sounds to me the most +beautiful music in the world."</p> + +<p>"In that case, Joseph, my old friend, prepare to open +your long ears."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You may enjoy every day the music which you call +charming, and of which you seem so fond."</p> + +<p>"What! You will be happy every day, M. le Marquis?" +exclaimed Joseph, clasping his hands with +extreme delight.</p> + +<p>"Every day, my old Joseph, happy every day. Yes, +no more sorrow,—no more sadness. I can tell you, +the only and discreet confidant of my troubles, that I +am at the height of happiness. My wife is an angel of +goodness, and has asked my forgiveness for her past +estrangement, attributing it (can you imagine?) to +jealousy."</p> + +<p>"To jealousy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, absurd suspicions, excited by anonymous +letters."</p> + +<p>"How shameful!"</p> + +<p>"You understand? Women have so much self-love,—a +little more and we should have been separated; +but, fortunately, last evening she explained all frankly +to me, and I disabused her mind. To tell you her +extreme delight would be impossible, for she loves me,—oh, +yes, she loves me! The coldness she evinced +towards me lay as cruelly on herself as on me, and +now, at length, our distressing separation has ended. +Only conceive my delight!"</p> + +<p>"Can it be true?" cried Joseph, with tears in his +eyes. "Can it really be true, M. le Marquis? And +now your life will be happy, for it was only my lady's +love that you required, or, rather, since her estrangement +was your sole misery, as you told me."</p> + +<p>"And to whom but you should I have told it, my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +worthy old Joseph? Do not you possess, also, a still +sadder secret? But do not let us say anything more +of sorrows now,—it is too bright a time. You see, +perhaps, that I have been weeping? It is because this +happiness has come over me so suddenly, when I so little +anticipated it! How weak I am!—am I not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, M. le Marquis, you may weep for joy +as much as you please, for you have wept long enough +for pain; and now see, do not I do as you do? They +are right sort of tears, and I would not give them for ten +years more of life. I have now but one fear, and that is, +not to be able to prevent myself from falling at the feet +of Madame la Marquise the first time I see her."</p> + +<p>"Silly old fellow! Why you are as weak as your +master. And now I have but one fear."</p> + +<p>"And what is that?"</p> + +<p>"That this will not last; I am too happy. What now +is wanting to me?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing,—nothing, M. le Marquis,—absolutely +nothing."</p> + +<p>"That is why I mistrust such perfect happiness,—too +complete."</p> + +<p>"Alas! If that is all, why, M. le Marquis—But +no, I dare not."</p> + +<p>"I understand you. Well, I believe your fears are +vain. The change which my happiness causes me is so +intense, so complete, that I am almost sure of being +nearly cured."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"My doctor has told me a hundred times that a +violent emotion is frequently sufficient either to bring on +or to cure this terrible malady."</p> + +<p>"You are right, monsieur,—you are cured, and what +a blessing that is! Ah, as you say, M. le Marquis, +the marquise is a good angel come down from heaven; +and I begin myself to be almost alarmed lest the happiness +is too great; but now I think of it, if you only want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +a small matter just to annoy you, thank God, I have just +the very thing!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"One of your friends has very luckily had a sword-wound, +very slight, to be sure; but that's all the same, +it is quite enough for you, as you desire to make a small +black spot in your too happy day."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, and of whom do you speak?"</p> + +<p>"The Duke de Lucenay."</p> + +<p>"Is he wounded?"</p> + +<p>"A scratch in the arm. M. the Duke came yesterday +to call on you, sir, and told me he should come again +this morning, and invite himself to a cup of tea."</p> + +<p>"Poor Lucenay! And why did you not tell me +this?"</p> + +<p>"I could not see you last night, M. le Marquis."</p> + +<p>After a moment's reflection, M. d'Harville resumed:</p> + +<p>"You are right, this slight regret will, doubtless, satisfy +jealous Fate. But an idea has come across me; I +should like to get up a bachelors' breakfast this morning +of all the friends of M. de Lucenay, to celebrate the +fortunate result of his duel; not anticipating such a +meeting, he will be delighted."</p> + +<p>"A capital idea, M. le Marquis. <i>Vive la joie!</i> Let +us make up for lost time. For how many shall I +desire the <i>maître d'hôtel</i> to lay covers?"</p> + +<p>"For six, in the small winter dining-room."</p> + +<p>"And the invitations?"</p> + +<p>"I will write them. Let a groom get his horse ready, +and take them instantly. It is very early, and he will +find everybody at home. Ring."</p> + +<p>Joseph rang the bell.</p> + +<p>M. d'Harville entered into his cabinet, and wrote the +following letter, with no other alteration than the name +of each invited guest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">My dear</span> ——: This is a circular, and is also an impromptu. +Lucenay is coming to breakfast with me this morning, expecting +only a <i>tête-à-tête</i>. Will you join me and several friends, whom I +also invite, in giving him an agreeable surprise?</p> + +<p class="indent">"Twelve punctually.</p> + +<p class="sigs">"<span class="smcap">M. d'Harville</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>A servant entered.</p> + +<p>"Desire some one to get on horseback, and deliver +these notes directly," said M. d'Harville; and then, +addressing Joseph, "Write the addresses: M. le +Vicomte de Saint-Remy,—Lucenay cannot get on without +him," said M. d'Harville to himself; "M. de +Monville, one of the duke's travelling companions; Lord +Douglas, his beloved partner at whist; the Baron de +Sézannes, one of the friends of his childhood. Have you +done?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. le Marquis."</p> + +<p>"Send them off, then, without losing a minute's time," +said M. d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Philippe, request M. Doublet to come and speak +to me."</p> + +<p>Philippe left the room.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is the matter with you?" inquired M. +d'Harville of Joseph, who looked at him with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I cannot get over it, sir; I never saw you in such +spirits,—so lively; and then you, who are usually so +pale, have got such a colour, and your eyes sparkle."</p> + +<p>"Happiness, my old friend,—happiness, and nothing +else; and you must assist me in my little plot. +You must go and learn of Mlle. Juliette, Madame +d'Harville's waiting-woman, who has the care of her +diamonds."</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. le Marquis, it is Mlle. Juliette who has the +charge of them, for it is not eight days since I helped her +to clean them."</p> + +<p>"Ask her to tell you the name of her lady's jeweller, +but not to say a word on the subject to her mistress."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I understand,—a surprise."</p> + +<p>"Go as quickly as possible. Here is M. Doublet."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the steward entered as Joseph quitted the +apartment.</p> + +<p>"I have the honour to attend the orders of M. le +Marquis."</p> + +<p>"My dear M. Doublet, I am going to alarm you," said +M. d'Harville, smiling; "I shall compel you to utter +fearful cries of distress."</p> + +<p>"Me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You."</p> + +<p>"I will endeavour to give satisfaction to M. le +Marquis."</p> + +<p>"I am going to spend an enormous sum, M. Doublet."</p> + +<p>"Why not, M. le Marquis? We are well able to do +so."</p> + +<p>"I have been planning a considerable extent of building. +I propose to annex a gallery in the garden, on the +right wing of the hôtel. After having hesitated at this +folly, of which I have not before spoken to you, I have +made up my mind on the point, and I wish you to send +to-day to my architect, desiring him to come and talk +over the plans with me. Well, M. Doublet, you do not +seem to object to the outlay."</p> + +<p>"I can assure your lordship that I have no objection +whatsoever."</p> + +<p>"This gallery is destined for fêtes, and I wish to have +it erected as though by enchantment; and, as enchantments +are very dear, we must sell fifteen or twenty +thousand livres of income in order to meet the expenditure, +for I wish the work to be begun as speedily as +possible."</p> + +<p>"I have always said there is nothing which M. le +Marquis wants, unless it be a certain taste. That for +building has the advantage of having the buildings +always left; as to money, M. le Marquis need not +alarm himself, and he may, if he pleases, build the +gallery."</p> + +<p>Joseph returned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here, M. le Marquis, is the address of the jeweller, +whose name is M. Baudoin," said he to M. d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"My dear M. Doublet, will you go to this jeweller's, +and desire him to bring here in an hour a river of diamonds, +worth, say, two thousand louis? Women never +have too many jewels, now they wear gowns decorated +with them. You can arrange with the jeweller as to the +payment."</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. le Marquis; and I do not even yet begin to +groan. Diamonds are like buildings,—they remain. +And then, no doubt, the surprise will greatly please +Madame la Marquise, without counting the pleasure +that you yourself will experience. It is as I had the +honour of saying the other day, there is not in the world +any person whose existence can be more delightful than +that of M. le Marquis."</p> + +<p>"My dear M. Doublet," said M. d'Harville, with a +smile, "your congratulations are always so peculiarly +apropos."</p> + +<p>"That is their only merit, M. le Marquis; and they +possess that merit, perhaps, because they proceed from +the heart. I will run to the jeweller."</p> + +<p>As soon as he was alone, M. d'Harville began to pace +up and down his cabinet, with his arms folded, and his +eye fixed and meditative. His features suddenly changed, +and no longer expressed that somewhat feverish contentment +of which the steward and his old servant had been +the dupes, but assumed a calm, sad, and chilling resolution. +Afterwards, having paced up and down for a short +time, he sunk into a chair heavily, and, as though weighed +down with sorrow, placed his elbows on his desk, and hid +his face in his hands. After a moment he rose suddenly, +wiped a tear which moistened his red eyelid, and said +with effort:</p> + +<p>"Come, come! Courage, courage!"</p> + +<p>He then wrote to several persons on very trifling matters, +and postponed various meetings for some days. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +marquis had concluded this correspondence when Joseph +again entered, so gay, and so forgetful of himself, as to +hum a tune in his turn.</p> + +<p>"M. Joseph, what a charming voice you have!" said +his master, jestingly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> so much the worse, M. le Marquis, for I +don't care about it. I am singing so merrily within, +that my music must be heard without."</p> + +<p>"Send these letters to the post."</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. le Marquis; but where will you receive the +gentlemen who are expected this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Here, in my cabinet; they will smoke after breakfast, +and then the smell of the tobacco will not reach +Madame d'Harville."</p> + +<p>At this moment the noise of carriage wheels was heard +in the courtyard of the hôtel.</p> + +<p>"It is Madame la Marquise going out; she ordered +her carriage very early this morning," said Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Run and request her to be so kind and come here +before she goes out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. le Marquis."</p> + +<p>The domestic had scarcely left the room when M. +d'Harville approached a mirror, and looked at himself +attentively.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said he, in a hoarse voice, "it is there,—the +flushed cheeks—the bright look—joy or fever, +it is little consequence which, so that they are deceived; +now, then, for the smile on the lips,—there are so many +sorts of smiles! But who can distinguish the false from +the true? Who can peep beneath the false mask, and +say, 'That laugh hides a dark despair, that noisy gaiety +conceals a thought of death?' Who could guess that? +No one,—fortunately, no one,—no one! Ah, yes, love +would never be mistaken; his instinct would enlighten +him. But I hear my wife,—my wife! Now, then, +sinister actor, play thy part."</p> + +<p>Clémence entered M. d'Harville's apartment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good morrow, dear brother Albert," she said, in a +tone full of sweetness. Then, observing the smiling +expression of her husband's countenance, "But what is +it, my dear, that gives you such a smiling air?"</p> + +<p>"It was because, when you entered, my dear sister, I +was thinking of you, and, moreover, I was under the +influence of an excellent resolution."</p> + +<p>"That does not surprise me."</p> + +<p>"What took place yesterday,—your extreme generosity, +the prince's noble conduct,—has given me much +food for reflection, and I am converted,—entirely converted +to your ideas."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! That is a happy change!" exclaimed +Madame d'Harville. "Ah! I was sure that, when I +appealed to your heart, to your reason, you would +understand me; and now I have no doubt about the +future."</p> + +<p>"Nor I either, Clémence, I assure you. Yes, since +my resolution last night, the future, which seemed so +vague and sombre, is singularly brightened and simplified."</p> + +<p>"Nothing can be more natural, my dear. Now we +both go towards the same end, like a brother and sister, +mutually dependent on each other; at the end of our +career we shall find each other what we are to-day. +The feeling will be unalterable. In a word, I wish +you to be happy; and you shall be, for I have resolved +it there," said Clémence, placing her finger on her forehead. +Then she added, with charming emphasis, lowering +her hand to her heart, "No, I mistake, it is here. +That is the good thought that will watch over you incessantly, +and myself also; and you shall see, my brother, +in what the obstinacy of a devoted heart consists."</p> + +<p>"Dear Clémence!" said M. d'Harville with repressed +emotion; then, after a moment's silence, he continued, +in a gay tone:</p> + +<p>"I sent to beg you to come here before you went out,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +to tell you that I could not take tea with you this morning. +I have some friends to breakfast,—a sort of +impromptu,—to celebrate the fortunate result of a duel +of poor Lucenay, who, by the way, was only very slightly +wounded by his adversary."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville blushed when she reflected on the +origin of this duel,—an absurd remark addressed in her +presence by the Duke de Lucenay to M. Charles Robert. +It reminded her of an <i>erreur</i> of which she was ashamed, +and, to escape from the pain she felt, she said to her +husband:</p> + +<p>"What a singular chance! M. de Lucenay is coming +to breakfast with you, and I am going, perhaps rather +indiscreetly, to invite myself this morning to Madame +de Lucenay's; for I have a great deal to say to her +about my two unknowns. From her, it is my intention +to go to the prison of St. Lazare with Madame de +Blinval, for you do not know all my projects; at this +time I am intriguing to get admittance into the workroom +of the young prisoner-girls."</p> + +<p>"You are really insatiable," said M. d'Harville, with +a smile; and then he added, with a painful emotion, +which, despite his efforts, betrayed itself a little, "Then +I shall see you no more to-day."</p> + +<p>"Does it annoy you that I should go out so early?" +asked Clémence, quickly, astonished at the tone of his +voice. "If you wish it, I can put off my visit to +Madame de Lucenay."</p> + +<p>The Marquis had nearly betrayed himself, but continued, +in an affectionate tone:</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear little sister, I am as annoyed to see +you go out, as I shall be impatient to see you return, +and these are faults of which I shall never be corrected."</p> + +<p>"And you are quite right, dear; for if you did I +should be very, very sorry."</p> + +<p>The sound of a bell, announcing a visit, was now heard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here is one of your guests, no doubt," said Madame +d'Harville. "I leave you; but, by the way, what are +you going to do in the evening? If you have no better +engagement, I require you to accompany me to the +Italian Opera; perhaps now you will like the music +better."</p> + +<p>"I am at your orders with the utmost pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Are you going out by and by? Shall I see you +before dinner?"</p> + +<p>"I shall not go out; you will find me here."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, on my return, I shall come and inquire +if your bachelors' breakfast has been amusing."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, Clémence!"</p> + +<p>"Adieu, dear! We shall soon meet again. I leave +you a clear house, and wish you may be as merry as +possible. Be very gay and lively, mind."</p> + +<p>Having cordially shaken her husband's hand, +Clémence went out of one door as M. de Lucenay +entered by another.</p> + +<p>"She wished me to be as merry as possible, and bade +me be gay! In the word adieu, in that last cry of my +soul in its agony, in that word of complete and eternal +separation, she has understood that we should meet +again soon,—this evening,—and leaves me tranquilly, +and with a smile! It does honour to my dissimulation. +By heaven, I did not think that I was so good an actor! +But here is Lucenay."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + +<h5>THE BACHELORS' BREAKFAST.</h5> + + +<p>M. de Lucenay came into the room.</p> + +<p>The duke's wound had been so slight, that he did not +even carry his arm in a sling. His countenance was, as +usual, mirthful, yet proud; his motion perpetual; and +his restlessness, as usual, unconquerable. In spite of +his awkwardness, his ill-timed pleasantries, and in spite +of his immense nose, which gave his face a grotesque +and odd character, M. de Lucenay was not, as we have +already said, a vulgar person, thanks to a kind of natural +dignity and bold impertinence, which never forsook +him.</p> + +<p>"How indifferent you must think me to what concerns +you, my dear Henry!" said M. d'Harville, extending +his hand to M. de Lucenay; "but it was only this +morning that I heard of your unfortunate adventure."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunate! Pooh—pooh, marquis! I had my +money's worth, as they say. I really never laughed so +in my life. The worthy M. Robert was so religiously +determined to maintain that he never had a phlegmy +cough, in all his life,—but you do not know! This was +the cause of the duel. The other evening at the —— embassy, +I asked him, before your wife and the Countess +Macgregor, how his phlegmy cough was? <i>Inde iræ!</i> for, +between ourselves, he had nothing of the kind; but it +was all the same, and, you may suppose, to have such +a thing alluded to before pretty women was very provoking."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How foolish! Yet it is so like you! But who is +this M. Robert?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> I have not the slightest idea in the world. +He is a person whom I met at the Spas; he passed by +us in the winter garden at the embassy, and I called to +him to play off this foolish jest, to which he gallantly +replied the next day by giving me a touch with his +sword-point. This is the history of our acquaintance. +But let us speak no more of such follies. I have come +to ask you for a cup of tea."</p> + +<p>So saying, M. de Lucenay flung himself down full +length on the sofa; after which, poking the point of his +cane between the wall and the frame of a picture hanging +over his head, he began to move it about, and try +and balance the frame.</p> + +<p>"I expected you, my dear Henry; and I have got up +a surprise for you," said M. d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"Ah, bah! and in what way?" exclaimed M. de +Lucenay, giving to the picture a very doubtful kind of +balance.</p> + +<p>"You will unquestionably unhook that picture, and +let it down on your head."</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardieu!</i> I believe you are right. What an eagle's +eye you have! But, tell me, what is this surprise of +yours?"</p> + +<p>"I have invited some of our friends to come and +breakfast with us!"</p> + +<p>"Really! Well, that is capital! Bravo, marquis,—bravissimo! +ultra-bravissimo!" exclaimed M. de Lucenay, +in a lusty voice, and beating the sofa cushions with +his cane with all his might. "And who shall we +have,—Saint-Remy? No, I recollect; he has been +in the country for some days. What the devil can +he be pattering about in the country in the mid-winter +for?"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure he is not in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure; for I wrote to him to go out with me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +and learned he was absent; and so I fell back upon +Lord Douglas, and Sézannes."</p> + +<p>"Nothing can be better; they breakfast with us."</p> + +<p>"Bravo! bravo! bravo!" exclaimed M. de Lucenay +again, with lusty lungs; and then, wriggling and twisting +himself on the sofa, he accompanied his cries with +a series of fishlike bounds and springs, which would +have made a boatman envious. The acrobatic exercises +of the Duke de Lucenay were interrupted by the arrival +of M. de Saint-Remy.</p> + +<p>"There was no occasion to ask if Lucenay was here," +said the viscount, gaily; "one could hear him below +stairs."</p> + +<p>"What! Is it you, graceful sylvan, country swain,—wolf +of the woods?" exclaimed the duke, in his surprise, +and sitting up suddenly. "I thought you were in the +country!"</p> + +<p>"I came back yesterday; and, having this instant +received D'Harville's invitation, I have hastened hither, +quite delighted to make one in so pleasant a surprise." +And M. de Saint-Remy extended his hand to M. de +Lucenay, and then to the marquis.</p> + +<p>"Let me thank you for your speed, my dear Saint-Remy. +Is it not natural? The friends of Lucenay +ought to rejoice in the fortunate result of this duel, +which, after all, might have had very serious results."</p> + +<p>"But," resumed the duke, doggedly, "what on earth +have you been doing in the country in the middle of +winter, Saint-Remy? It mystifies me."</p> + +<p>"How inquisitive he is!" said the viscount, addressing +M. d'Harville; and then, turning to the duke, "I +am anxious to wean myself gradually from Paris, as +I am soon to quit it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, the beautiful idea of attaching you to the +legation from France to Gerolstein! Pray leave off +those silly ideas of diplomacy! You will never go. +My wife says so, everybody says the same."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I assure you that Madame de Lucenay is mistaken, +as well as all the rest of the world."</p> + +<p>"She told you, in my presence, that it was a folly."</p> + +<p>"How many have I committed in my life?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, elegant, charming follies, true;—such as people +said would ruin you in your Sardanapalian magnificences,—that +I admit. But to go and bury yourself alive in +such a court,—at Gerolstein! What an idea! Psha! +It is a folly, an absurdity; and you have too much good +sense to commit absurdities."</p> + +<p>"Take care, my dear Lucenay. When you abuse this +German court, you will get up a quarrel with D'Harville, +the intimate friend of the grand duke regnant, who, moreover, +received me with the best possible grace at the +embassy, where I was presented to him."</p> + +<p>"Really, my dear Henry," said M. d'Harville, "if you +knew the grand duke as I know him, you would understand +that Saint-Remy could have no repugnance to +passing some time at Gerolstein."</p> + +<p>"I believe you, marquis, although they do say that he +is very haughty and very peculiar, your grand duke; but +that will not hinder a don like Saint-Remy, the finest +sifting of the finest flour, from being unable to live +anywhere but in Paris. It is in Paris only that he is +duly appreciated."</p> + +<p>The other guests of M. d'Harville now arrived, when +Joseph entered, and said a few words in a low voice to +his master.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said the marquis, "will you allow me?—it +is my wife's jeweller, who has brought some diamonds +to select for her,—a surprise. You understand +that, Lucenay? We are husbands of the old sort, you +and I."</p> + +<p>"Ah, <i>pardieu</i>! If it is a surprise you mean," shouted +the duke, "my wife gave me one yesterday, and a +famous one too!"</p> + +<p>"Some magnificent present?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She asked me for a hundred thousand francs +(4,000<i>l.</i>)."</p> + +<p>"And you are such a magnifico—you—"</p> + +<p>"Lent them to her; they are advanced as mortgage +on her Arnouville estate. Right reckonings make good +friends,—but that's by the by. To lend in two hours +a hundred thousand francs to a friend who requires that +sum is what I call pretty, but rare. Is it not prodigal, +you who are a connoisseur in loans?" said the duke, +laughingly, to Saint-Remy, little thinking of the cutting +purport of his words.</p> + +<p>In spite of his effrontery, the viscount blushed +slightly, and then replied, with composure:</p> + +<p>"A hundred thousand francs?—that is immense! +What could a woman ever want with such a sum as a +hundred thousand francs? As for us men, that is quite +a different matter."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> I really do not know what she could want +with such a sum as that. But that's not my affair. +Some arrears for the toilet, probably? The tradespeople +hungry and annoying,—that's her affair. And, +as you know very well, my dear Saint-Remy, that, as it +was I who lent my wife the money, it would have been +in the worst possible taste in me to have inquired the +purpose for which she required it."</p> + +<p>"Yet," said the viscount, with a laugh, "there is +usually a singular curiosity on the part of those who +lend money to know what is done with it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Parbleu!</i> Saint-Remy," said M. d'Harville, "you +have such exquisite taste, that you must help me to +choose the ornament I intend for my wife. Your approbation +will consecrate my choice; your decisions are +sovereign in all that concerns the fashion."</p> + +<p>The jeweller entered, bringing with him several caskets +of gems in a large leather bag.</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is M. Baudoin!" said M. de Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"At your grace's service."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am sure that it is you who ruined my wife with +your dazzling and infernal temptations," said M. de +Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Duchesse has only had her diamonds +reset this winter," said the jeweller, slightly embarrassed; +"and now, as I came to M. le Marquis, I left +them with her grace."</p> + +<p>M. de Saint-Remy knew that Madame de Lucenay, to +aid him, had changed her jewels for false stones. He +was disagreeably embarrassed at this rencontre, but +said, boldly:</p> + +<p>"How curious these husbands are!—don't answer +any inquisitive interrogatories, M. Baudoin."</p> + +<p>"Curious; <i>ma foi!</i> no," said the duke; "it is my +wife who pays. She can afford all her whims, for she +is much richer than I am."</p> + +<p>During this conversation, M. Baudoin had displayed +on a table several superb necklaces of rubies and +diamonds.</p> + +<p>"What a fine water, and how exquisitely those stones +are cut!" said Lord Douglas.</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir!" said the jeweller, "I employed in this +work one of the most skilful lapidaries in Paris, named +Morel; but, unfortunately, he has become insane, and I +shall never find such another workman. My matcher of +stones says that, in all probability, it was his wretched +condition that deprived the man of his senses, poor +fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Wretched condition! What! do you trust diamonds +to people in distress?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir; and there is no instance of a lapidary +having ever pilfered anything, however miserable and +destitute his condition."</p> + +<p>"How much for this necklace?" inquired M. +d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"M. le Marquis will observe that the stones are of a +splendid water and cut, and nearly all of a size."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"These oratorical prefaces threaten your purse," said +M. de Saint-Remy, with a laugh. "Now, my dear D'Harville, +look out for a high price."</p> + +<p>"Come, M. Baudoin, have a conscience, and ask the +price you mean to take!" said M. d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"I will not haggle with your lordship. The lowest +price is forty-two thousand francs (11,680<i>l.</i>)."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," exclaimed M. de Lucenay, "let us who +are married admire D'Harville in silence. A man who +contrives a surprise for his wife to the amount of forty-two +thousand francs! <i>Diable!</i> we must not noise that +abroad, or it would be a detestable precedent."</p> + +<p>"Laugh on, gentlemen, as much as you please," said +the marquis, gaily. "I love my wife, and am not +ashamed to confess it; on the contrary, I boast of it."</p> + +<p>"It is plain enough to be seen," said M. de Saint-Remy; +"such a present speaks more eloquently than all +the protestation in the world."</p> + +<p>"I will take this necklace, then," said M. d'Harville, +"if the setting of black enamel seems to you in good +taste, Saint-Remy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it sets off the brilliancy of the stones; it is +exquisitely devised."</p> + +<p>"Then this it shall be," said M. d'Harville. "You +will settle, M. Baudoin, with M. Doublet, my man of +business."</p> + +<p>"M. Doublet told me as much, my lord marquis," +said the jeweller, who quitted the apartment, after +having packed up his bag without counting the jewels +which he had brought (such was his confidence), and +notwithstanding M. de Saint-Remy had for a long time +and curiously handled and examined them during the +interview.</p> + +<p>M. d'Harville gave the necklace to Joseph, who was +waiting, and said to him, in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"Mlle. Juliette must put these diamonds cleverly +away with those of her mistress, so that la marquise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +may not suspect; and then her surprise will be the +greater."</p> + +<p>At this moment the <i>maître d'hôtel</i> announced that +the breakfast was ready; and the guests, passing into +the dining-room, seated themselves.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, my dear D'Harville," said M. de +Lucenay, "that this house is one of the most elegant +and best arranged in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"It is very convenient, certainly, but we want room; +I have a plan to add a gallery on the garden. Madame +d'Harville wishes to give some grand balls, and our +salons are not large enough. Then, I think, nothing is +more inconvenient than the encroachments of fêtes on +the apartments one usually occupies, and from which, +on such occasions, you are necessarily driven."</p> + +<p>"I am quite of D'Harville's opinion," said M. de +Saint-Remy; "nothing is more wretched, more tradesmanlike, +than these movings, compelled by the coming +of balls and concerts. To give fêtes, really of the first +class, without inconveniencing oneself, there must be +devoted to their uses peculiar and special suites of +apartments; and then vast and splendid rooms, devoted +to a magnificent ball, ought to assume an appearance +wholly distinct from that of ordinary salons. There is +the same difference between these two sets of apartments +as between a monumental fresco-painting and a +sketch on a painter's easel."</p> + +<p>"He is right," said M. d'Harville. "What a pity, +gentlemen, that Saint-Remy has not twelve or fifteen +hundred thousand livres a year! What wonders he +would create for our admiration!"</p> + +<p>"Since we have the happiness to possess a representative +government," said the Duke de Lucenay, +"the country ought to vote a million or two a year +to Saint-Remy, and authorise him to represent in Paris +the French taste and elegance, which should decide the +taste and elegance of all Europe,—all the world."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Adopted!" cried the guests in chorus.</p> + +<p>"And we would raise these annual millions as compulsory +taxes on those abominable misers, who, being +possessors of colossal fortunes, should be marked down, +accused, and convicted of living like gripe-farthings," +added M. de Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"And as such," added M. d'Harville, "condemned to +defray those splendours which they ought to display."</p> + +<p>"Not including that these functions of high priest, or, +rather, grand master of elegance, which would devolve +on Saint-Remy," continued M. de Lucenay, "would +have, by imitation, an enormous influence on the general +taste."</p> + +<p>"He would be the type which all would seek to +resemble."</p> + +<p>"That is evident."</p> + +<p>"And, in endeavouring to imitate him, taste would +become purified."</p> + +<p>"At the time of the Renaissance taste became universally +excellent, because it was modelled on that of +the aristocracy, which was exquisite."</p> + +<p>"By the serious turn which the question has taken," +said M. d'Harville, gaily, "I see that we have only to +address a petition to the Chambers for the establishment +of the office of grand master of French elegance."</p> + +<p>"And as the Deputies have credit for possessing very +elevated, very artistic, and very magnificent ideas, of +course it will be voted by acclamation."</p> + +<p>"Whilst we are waiting the decision which shall +establish as a right the supremacy which Saint-Remy +exercises in fact," said M. d'Harville, "I will ask him +his opinion as to the gallery which I propose to erect; +for I have been struck with his ideas as to the right +splendour of fêtes."</p> + +<p>"My faint lights are at your service, D'Harville."</p> + +<p>"And when shall we commence our magnificences, +my dear fellow?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Next year, I suppose, for I intend to begin my +works without delay."</p> + +<p>"How full of projects you are!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> I have others also; I contemplate an entire +alteration of Val-Richer."</p> + +<p>"Your estate in Burgundy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; there is much that may be done there, if, +indeed, God grants me life."</p> + +<p>"Poor old fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Have you not recently bought a farm near Val-Richer +to complete your ring-fence?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a very nice thing, to which I was advised by +my notary."</p> + +<p>"And who is this rare and precious notary who +advises such admirable purchases?"</p> + +<p>"M. Jacques Ferrand."</p> + +<p>At this name a slight shudder came over M. de +Saint-Remy, and he frowned imperceptibly.</p> + +<p>"Is he really the honest man they call him?" he +inquired, carelessly, of M. d'Harville, who then remembered +what Rodolph had related to Clémence about the +notary.</p> + +<p>"Jacques Ferrand? What a question! Why, his +honesty is a proverb," said M. de Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"As respected as respectable."</p> + +<p>"And very pious; which does him no harm."</p> + +<p>"Excessively stingy; which is a guarantee for his +clients."</p> + +<p>"In fact, he is one of the notaries of the 'old rock,' +who ask you whom you take them for when you ask +them for a receipt for the money which you place in +their hands."</p> + +<p>"That would have no effect on me; I would trust +him with my whole fortune."</p> + +<p>"But where the deuce did Saint-Remy imbibe his +doubts with respect to this honest man, whose integrity +is proverbial?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am but the echo of certain vague reports; besides, +I have no reason for running down this phœnix of +notaries. But to return to your plans, D'Harville, what +is it you wish to build at Val-Richer? I have heard +that the château is excessively beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Make yourself easy, my dear Saint-Remy, for you +shall be consulted, and sooner than you expect, perhaps, +for I take much pleasure in such works. I think that +there is nothing more interesting than to have those +affairs in hand, which expand as you examine them, +and they advance, giving you occupation for years to +come. To-day one project, next year another, after that +something else springs up. Add to this a charming +woman whom one adores, and who shares your every +taste and pleasure, then, <i>ma foi!</i> life passes sweetly +enough."</p> + +<p>"I think so, <i>pardieu</i>! Why, it then makes earth a +perfect paradise."</p> + +<p>"Now, gentlemen," said D'Harville, when the breakfast +was finished, "if you will smoke a cigar in my +cabinet, you will find some excellent Havannahs there."</p> + +<p>They rose from the table, and returned to the cabinet +of the marquis. The door of his bedchamber, which +communicated with it, was open. We have said the +only decoration of the room consisted of two small racks +of very beautiful arms.</p> + +<p>M. de Lucenay, having lighted a cigar, followed the +marquis into his room.</p> + +<p>"You see, I am still a great lover of good weapons," +said D'Harville to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I see you have here some splendid English +and French guns. <i>Ma foi!</i> I hardly know which to +admire most. Douglas," exclaimed M. de Lucenay, +"come and see if these fowling-pieces are not equal to +your crack Mantons."</p> + +<p>Lord Douglas, Saint-Remy, and the two other guests +went into the marquis's room to examine the arms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>M. d'Harville, taking down a duelling-pistol, cocked +it, and said, laughingly:</p> + +<p>"Here, gentlemen, is the universal panacea for all the +ills,—spleen, disgust, weariness."</p> + +<p>And as he spoke, jestingly, he placed the muzzle to +his lips.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> I prefer another specific," said Saint-Remy; +"that is only good in the most desperate cases."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it is so speedy," said M. d'Harville. "Click! +and it is done!"</p> + +<p>"Pray be cautious, D'Harville; these jokes are always +so rash and dangerous; and accident happens in an +instant," said M. de Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, do you think I would do so if it +were loaded?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not, but it is always imprudent."</p> + +<p>"See, gentlemen, how it is done. You introduce the +muzzle delicately between the teeth, and then—"</p> + +<p>"How foolish you are, D'Harville, to place it so!" +said M. de Lucenay.</p> + +<p>"You place your finger on the trigger—" continued +M. d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"What a child! What folly at your age!"</p> + +<p>"A small touch on the lock," added the marquis, +"and one goes—"</p> + +<p>As he spoke the pistol went off. M. d'Harville had +blown his brains out.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to paint the horror,—the stupor, of +M. d'Harville's guests.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;"><a name="image222" id="image222"></a> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="316" height="500" alt="M. d'Harville had blown his brains out. +Original Etching by Mercier." title="M. d'Harville had blown his brains out." /> +<span class="caption"><i>M. d'Harville had blown his brains out.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Mercier.</span></span> +</div> + +<p>Next day the following appeared in one of the newspapers:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Yesterday an event, as unforeseen as deplorable, put all the +Faubourg St. Germain in a state of excitement. One of those +imprudent acts, which every year produce such sad accidents, has +caused this terrible misfortune. The following are the facts +which we have gathered, the authenticity of which may be relied +upon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Marquis d'Harville, the possessor of an immense fortune, +and scarcely twenty-six years of age, universally known for his +kind-hearted benevolence, and married but a few years to a wife +whom he idolised, had some friends to breakfast with him; on +leaving the table, they went into M. d'Harville's sleeping apartment, +where there were several firearms of considerable value. +Whilst the guests were looking at some choice fowling-pieces, M. +d'Harville in jest took up a pistol which he thought was not +loaded, and placed the muzzle to his lips. Though warned by +his friends, he pressed on the trigger,—the pistol went off, and +the unfortunate young gentleman dropped down dead, with his +skull horribly fractured. It is impossible to describe the extreme +consternation of the friends of M. d'Harville, with whom but +a few instants before he had been talking of various plans and +projects, full of life, spirits, and animation. In fact, as if all the +circumstances of this sad event must be still more cruel by the +most painful contrasts, that very morning M. d'Harville, desirous +of agreeably surprising his wife, had purchased a most expensive +ornament, which he intended as a present to her. It was at this +very moment, when, perhaps, life had never appeared more smiling +and attractive, that he fell a victim to this most distressing +accident.</p> + +<p>"All reflections on such a dreadful event are useless. We +can only remain overwhelmed at the inscrutable decrees of +Providence."</p></div> + +<p>We quote this journal in order to show the general +opinion which attributed the death of Clémence's husband +to fatal and lamentable imprudence.</p> + +<p>Is there any occasion to say that M. d'Harville alone +carried with him to the tomb the mysterious secret of +his voluntary death,—yes, voluntary and calculated +upon, and meditated with as much calmness as generosity, +in order that Clémence might not conceive the +slightest suspicion as to the real cause of his suicide?</p> + +<p>Thus the projects of which M. d'Harville had talked +with his steward and his friends,—those happy confidences +to his old servant, the surprise which he proposed +for his wife, were all but so many precautions for the +public credulity.</p> + +<p>How could it be supposed that a man so preoccupied +as to the future, so anxious to please his wife, could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +think of killing himself? His death was, therefore, +attributed to imprudence, and could not be attributed +to anything else.</p> + +<p>As to his determination, an incurable despair had dictated +that. By showing herself as affectionate towards +him, and as tender as she had formerly been cold and +disdainful, by again appearing to entertain a high +regard, Clémence had awakened in the heart of her +husband deep remorse.</p> + +<p>Seeing her so sadly resigned to a long life without +love, passed with a man visited by an incurable and +frightful malady, and utterly persuaded that, after her +solemn conversation, Clémence could never subdue the +repugnance with which he inspired her, M. d'Harville +was seized with a profound pity for his wife, and an +entire disgust for himself and for life.</p> + +<p>In the exasperation of his anguish, he said to himself:</p> + +<p>"I only love,—I never can love,—but one woman +in the world, and she is my own wife. Her conduct, full +of noble-heartedness and high mind, would but increase +my mad passion, if it be possible to increase it. And +she, my wife, can never belong to me! She has a right +to despise,—to hate me! I have, by base deceit, chained +this young creature to my hateful lot! I repent it bitterly. +What, then, should I do for her? Free her from +the hateful ties which my selfishness has riveted upon +her. My death alone can break those rivets; and I must, +therefore, die by my own hand!"</p> + +<p>This was why M. d'Harville had accomplished this +great,—this terrible sacrifice.</p> + +<p>The inexorable immutability of the law sometimes +makes certain terrible positions irremediable, and, as in +this case (as divorce was unattainable), only allows the +injury to be effaced by an additional crime.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + +<h5>ST. LAZARE.</h5> + + +<p>The prison of St. Lazare, especially devoted to +female thieves and prostitutes, is daily visited by many +ladies, whose charity, whose names, and whose social +position command universal respect. These ladies, educated +in the midst of the splendours of fortune,—these +ladies, properly belonging to the best society,—come +every week to pass long hours with the miserable prisoners +of St. Lazare; watching in these degraded souls +for the least indication of an aspiration towards good, +the least regret for a past criminal life, and encouraging +the good tendencies, urging repentance, and, by the potent +magic of the words, Duty, Honour, Virtue, withdrawing +from time to time one of these abandoned, fallen, degraded, +despised creatures, from the depths of utter pollution.</p> + +<p>Accustomed to delicacy and the most polished breeding +of the highest circles, these courageous females quit +their homes, after having pressed their lips on the virgin +foreheads of their daughters, pure as the angels of +heaven, and go into dark prisons to brave the coarse +indifference or infamous language of these thieves and +lost women.</p> + +<p>Faithful to their tasks of high morality, they boldly +plunge into the tainted soil, place their hands on those +gangrened hearts, and, if any feeble pulsation of honour +reveals to them a slight hope of recovery, they contend +for and snatch from irrevocable perdition the wretched +soul of which they have never despaired.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>Having said so much by way of introduction to the +new scenes to which we are about to direct attention, we +will introduce the reader to St. Lazare, an immense +edifice of imposing and repulsive aspect, situated in the +Faubourg St. Denis.</p> + +<p>Ignorant of the shocking drama that was passing at +her own house, Madame d'Harville had gone to the +prison, after having received certain information from +Madame de Lucenay as to the two unhappy females +whom the cupidity of Jacques Ferrand had plunged +into misery. Madame de Blinval, one of the patronesses +of the charity of the young prisoners, being on this day +unable to accompany Clémence to St. Lazare, she had +gone thither alone. She was received with great attention +by the governor and the several female superintendents, +who were distinguished by their black garments +and the blue riband with the silver medal which they +wore around their necks. One of these superintendents, +a female of mature age, with a serious but kind expression +of countenance, remained alone with Madame +d'Harville, in a small room attached to the registry +office.</p> + +<p>We may easily suppose that there is often unrecognised +devotion, understanding, commiseration, and +sagacity amongst the respectable females who devote +themselves to the humble and obscure function of superintendent +of the prisoners. Nothing can be more excellent, +more practical, than the notions of order, work, +and duty which they endeavour to instil into the +prisoners, in the hope that these instructions may +survive their term of imprisonment. In turns indulgent +and firm, patient and severe, but always just +and impartial, these females, incessantly in contact +with the prisoners, end, after the lengthened experience +of years, by acquiring such a knowledge of the +physiognomy of these unfortunates that they can judge +of them almost invariably from the first glance, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +can at once classify them according to their degree of +immorality.</p> + +<p>Madame Armand, the inspectress who remained with +Madame d'Harville, possessed in a remarkable degree +this almost supernatural prescience as to the character of +the prisoners; her words and decisions had very great +weight in the establishment.</p> + +<p>Madame Armand said to Clémence:</p> + +<p>"Since madame wishes me to point out to her such +of our prisoners as have by good conduct, or sincere +repentance, deserved that an interest should be taken +in them, I believe I can mention to her a poor girl +whom I believe to be more unfortunate than culpable; for +I am not deceived when I say that it is not too late to +save this young girl, an unhappy creature of not more +than sixteen or seventeen years of age."</p> + +<p>"And for what is she imprisoned?"</p> + +<p>"She is guilty of being found in the Champs Elysées +in the evening. As it is prohibited to such females, +under very severe penalties, to frequent, by day or +night, certain public places, and as the Champs Elysées +are in the number of the forbidden promenades, she was +apprehended."</p> + +<p>"And does she appear to you interesting?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw features more regular, more ingenuous. +Picture to yourself, my lady, the face of a Virgin; and +what adds still more to the expression of modesty in her +countenance is that, on coming here, she was dressed like +a peasant girl of the environs of Paris."</p> + +<p>"She is, then, a country girl?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lady; the inspectors knew her again. +She had lived for some weeks in a horrible abode +in the Cité, from which she has been absent for two +or three months; but, as she had not demanded the +erasure of her name from the police registries, she +comes under the power of that body, which has sent her +hither."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, perhaps, she had quitted Paris to try and +reinstate herself?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, madame; and it is therefore I have +taken such an interest in her. I have questioned her +as to her past life, inquired if she came from the country, +and told her to hope, as I did myself, that she might +still return to a course of good life."</p> + +<p>"And what reply did she make?"</p> + +<p>"Lifting her full and melancholy blue eyes on me, +filled with tears, she said, with angelic sweetness, 'I +thank you, madame, for your kindness; but I cannot +say one word as to the past; I was apprehended,—I +was doing wrong, and I do not therefore complain.' +'But where do you come from? Where have you been +since you quitted the Cité? If you went into the +country to seek an honest livelihood, say so, and prove +it. We will write to the prefect to obtain your liberty, +your name will be scratched off the police register, and +you will be encouraged in your good resolutions.' 'I +beseech you, madame, do not ask me; I cannot answer +you,' she replied. 'But, on leaving this house, would +you return again to that place of infamy?' 'Oh, +never!' she exclaimed. 'What, then, will you do?' +'God only knows!' she replied, letting her head fall +on her bosom."</p> + +<p>"Very singular! And she expresses herself—"</p> + +<p>"In very excellent terms, madame; her deportment +is timid and respectful, but without servility; nay, more, +in spite of the extreme gentleness of her voice and look, +there is in her accent and her attitude a sort of proud +sorrow which puzzles me. If she did not belong to that +wretched class of which she forms one, I should say +that her haughtiness announces a soul which has a +consciousness of dignity."</p> + +<p>"But this is all a romance!" exclaimed Clémence, +deeply interested, and finding, as Rodolph had told +her, that nothing was more interesting than to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +good. "And how does she behave with the other +prisoners? If she is endowed with that dignity of +soul that you imagine, she must suffer excessively in +the midst of her wretched associates."</p> + +<p>"Madame, for me, who observe all from my position, +and from habit, all about this young girl is a subject of +astonishment. Although she has been here only three +days, yet she already possesses a sort of influence over +the other prisoners."</p> + +<p>"In so short a time?"</p> + +<p>"They feel for her not only interest, but almost +respect."</p> + +<p>"What! these unhappy women—"</p> + +<p>"Have sometimes the instinct of a remarkable delicacy +in recognising and detecting noble qualities in others; +only, they frequently hate those persons whose superiority +they are compelled to admit."</p> + +<p>"But do they hate this poor girl?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it, my lady; none of them knew her before +she came here. They were at first struck with her +appearance. Her features, although of singular beauty, +are, if I may so express myself, covered with a touching +and sickly paleness; and this melancholy and gentle +countenance at first inspired them with more interest +than jealousy. Then she is very silent, another source +of surprise for these creatures, who, for the most part, +always endeavour to banish thought by making a noise, +talking, and moving about. In fact, although reserved +and retiring, she showed herself compassionate, which +prevented her companions from taking offence at her +coldness of manner. This is not all: about a month +since, an intractable creature, nicknamed La Louve (the +she-wolf), such is her violent and brutal character, became +a resident here. She is a woman of twenty years +of age, tall, masculine, with good-looking but strongly +marked features, and we are sometimes compelled to +place her in the black-hole to subdue her violence. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +day before yesterday, only, she came out of the cell, still +irritated at the punishment she had undergone; it was +meal-time, the poor girl of whom I speak could not eat, +and said, sorrowfully, to her companions, 'Who will have +my bread?' 'I will!' said La Louve. 'I will!' then +said a creature almost deformed, called Mont Saint-Jean, +who is the laughing-stock and, sometimes in spite of us, +the butt of the other prisoners, although several months +advanced in pregnancy. The young girl gave her bread +to this latter, to the extreme anger of La Louve. 'It +was I who asked you for the allowance first!' she +exclaimed, furiously. 'That is true; but this poor +woman is about to become a mother, and wants it +more than you do,' replied the young girl. La Louve, +notwithstanding, snatched the bread from the hands of +Mont Saint-Jean, and began to wave her knife about, +and to vociferate loudly. As she is very evil-disposed +and much feared, no one dared take the part of the poor +Goualeuse, although all the prisoners silently sided with +her."</p> + +<p>"What do you call her name, madame?"</p> + +<p>"La Goualeuse; it is the name, or rather the nickname, +under which they brought her here who is my +protégée, and will, I hope, my lady, soon be yours. +Almost all of them have borrowed names."</p> + +<p>"This is a very singular one."</p> + +<p>"It signifies in their horrid jargon 'the singer,' for +the young girl has, they told me, a very delightful voice; +and I believe it, for her speaking tones are sweetness +itself."</p> + +<p>"But how did she escape from this wretch, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"Rendered still more furious by the composure of La +Goualeuse, she rushed towards her, uttering menaces, +and with her uplifted knife in her hand. All the prisoners +cried out with fear; La Goualeuse alone, looking +at this fierce creature without alarm, smiled at her +bitterly and said, in her sweet voice, 'Oh, kill me! Kill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +me! I am willing to die. But do not make me suffer +too great pain!' These words, they told me, were +uttered with a simplicity so affecting, that almost all +the prisoners burst into tears."</p> + +<p>"I can imagine so," said Madame d'Harville, deeply +moved.</p> + +<p>"The worst characters," continued the inspectress, +"have, fortunately, occasional good feelings. When she +heard these words, bearing the stamp of such painful +resignation, La Louve, touched (as she afterwards declared) +to her inmost core, threw her knife on the +ground, fell at her feet and exclaimed, 'It was wrong—shameful +to threaten you, Goualeuse, for I am stronger +than you! You are not afraid of my knife; you are +bold—brave! I like brave people; and now, from this +day forth, if any dare to molest you, let them beware, +for I will defend you.'"</p> + +<p>"What a singular being!"</p> + +<p>"This incident strengthened La Goualeuse's influence +still more and more. A thing almost unexampled here, +none of the prisoners accost her familiarly. The majority +are respectful to her, and even proffer to do for her all the +little services that prisoners can render to one another. +I spoke to some of the women of her dormitory, to learn +the reason of this deference which was evinced towards +her. 'It is hardly explicable to ourselves,' they replied; +'but it is easy to perceive she is not one of us.' 'But +who told you so?' 'No one told us; it is easy to discover +it.' 'By what?' 'By a thousand things. In the +first place, before she goes to bed, she goes down on her +knees and says her prayers; and if she pray, as La Louve +says, why, she must have a right to do so.'"</p> + +<p>"What a strange observation!"</p> + +<p>"These unhappy creatures have no religious feeling, +and still they never utter here an impious or irreligious +word. You will see, madame, in all our rooms small +altars, where the statue of the Virgin is surrounded with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +offerings and ornaments which they have made. Every +Sunday they burn a quantity of wax candles before them +in <i>ex-voto</i>. Those who attend the chapel behave remarkably +well; but generally the very sight of holy places +frightens them. To return to La Goualeuse; her companions +said to me, 'We see that she is not one of us, by +her gentle ways, her sadness, and the manner in which +she talks.' 'And then,' added La Louve (who was +present at this conversation), abruptly, 'it is quite +certain that she is not one of us, for this morning, in +the dormitory, without knowing why, we were all +ashamed of dressing ourselves before her.'"</p> + +<p>"What remarkable delicacy in the midst of so much +degradation!" exclaimed Madame d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, in the presence of men, and amongst +themselves, modesty is unknown to them, and yet they +are painfully confused at being seen half dressed by us +or the charitable visitors who come, like your ladyship, +to the prison. Thus the profound instinct of modesty, +which God has implanted in us, reveals itself even in +these fallen creatures, at the sight of those persons +whom they can respect."</p> + +<p>"It is at least consolatory to find some good and +natural feelings, which are stronger even than depravity."</p> + +<p>"Assuredly it is; and these women are capable of +devoted attachments which, were they worthily placed, +would be most honourable. There is also another sacred +feeling with them, who respect nothing, fear nothing, +and that is maternity. They honour it, rejoice at it; and +they are admirable mothers, considering nothing a sacrifice +to keep their children near them. They will undergo +any trouble, difficulty, or danger that they may bring them +up; for, as they say, these little beings are the only ones +who do not despise them."</p> + +<p>"Have they, then, so deep a sense of their abject +condition?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are not half so much despised by others as +they despise themselves. With those who sincerely +repent, the original blot of sin is ineffaceable in their +own eyes, even if they should find themselves in a better +position; others go mad, so irremediably is this idea +imprinted in their minds; and I should not be surprised, +madame, if the heartfelt grief of La Goualeuse +is attributable to something of this nature."</p> + +<p>"If so, how she must suffer!—a remorse which +nothing can soothe!"</p> + +<p>"Fortunately, madame, this remorse is more frequent +than is commonly believed. The avenging conscience +is never completely lulled to sleep; or, rather, strange +as it may appear, sometimes it would seem that the +soul is awake whilst the body is in a stupor; and this +remark I again made last night in reference to my +protégée."</p> + +<p>"What! La Goualeuse?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"Frequently, when the prisoners are asleep, I walk +through the dormitories. You would scarcely believe, +my lady, how the countenances of these women differ in +expression whilst they are slumbering. A good number +of them, whom I have seen during the day, saucy, careless, +bold, insolent, have appeared entirely changed when +sleep has removed from their features all exaggeration +of bravado; for, alas, vice has its pride! Oh, madame, +what sad revelations on those dejected, mournful, and +gloomy faces! What painful sighs, involuntarily elicited +by some dream. I was speaking to your ladyship just +now of the girl they call La Louve,—an untamed, +untamable creature. It is but a fortnight since that +she abused me in the vilest terms before all the prisoners. +I shrugged up my shoulders, and my indifference +whetted her rage. Then, in order to offend me more +sorely, she began to say all sorts of disgraceful things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +of my mother, whom she had often seen come here to +visit me."</p> + +<p>"What a shameful creature!"</p> + +<p>"I confess that, although this attack was not worth +minding, yet it made me feel uncomfortable. La Louve +perceived this, and rejoiced in it. The same night, +about midnight, I went to inspect the dormitories; I +went to La Louve's bedside (she was not to be put in +the dark cell until next day) and I was struck with her +calmness,—I might say the sweetness of her countenance,—compared +with the harsh and daring expression +which is habitual to it. Her features seemed suppliant, +filled with regret and contrition; her lips were half open, +her breast seemed oppressed, and—what appeared to me +incredible, for I thought it impossible—two tears, two +large tears, were in the eyes of this woman, whose disposition +was of iron! I looked at her in silence for +several minutes, when I heard her say, 'Pardon! Pardon! +Her mother!' I listened more attentively, but all +I could catch, in the midst of a murmur scarcely intelligible, +was my name, 'Madame Armand,' uttered with +a sigh."</p> + +<p>"She repented, during her sleep, of having uttered +this bad language about your mother."</p> + +<p>"So I believe; and that made me less severe. No +doubt she desired, through a miserable vanity, to increase +her natural insolence in her companions' eyes, whilst, +perhaps, a good instinct made her repent in her sleep."</p> + +<p>"And did she evince any repentance for her bad +behaviour next day?"</p> + +<p>"Not the slightest, but conducted herself as usual, and +was coarse, rude, and obstinate; but I assure your ladyship +that nothing disposes us more to pity than the +observations I have mentioned to you. I am persuaded +(I may deceive myself, perhaps) that, during their +sleep, these unfortunates become better, or rather return +to themselves, with all their faults, it is true, but also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +with certain good instincts, no longer masked by the +detestable assumption of vice. From all I have observed, +I am led to believe that these creatures are generally less +wicked than they affect to be; and, acting upon this +conviction, I have often attained results it would have +been impossible to realise, if I had entirely despaired of +them."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville could not conceal her surprise at +so much good sense, and so much just reasoning, joined +to sentiments of humanity so noble and so practical, in +an obscure inspectress of degraded women.</p> + +<p>"But my dear madame," observed Clémence, "you +must have a great deal of courage, and much strength +of mind, not to be repulsed by the ungratefulness of the +task, which must so very seldom reward you by satisfactory +results!"</p> + +<p>"The consciousness of fulfilling a duty sustains and +encourages, and sometimes we are recompensed by happy +discoveries; now and then we find some rays of light in +hearts which have hitherto been supposed to be in utter +darkness."</p> + +<p>"Yet, madame, persons like you are very rarely met +with?"</p> + +<p>"No, I assure your ladyship, others do as I do, with +more success and intelligence than I have. One of the +inspectresses of the other division of St. Lazare, which +is occupied by females charged with different crimes, +would interest you much more. She told me this morning +of the arrival of a young girl accused of infanticide. +I never heard anything more distressing. The father +of the unhappy girl, a hard-working, honest lapidary, +has gone mad with grief on hearing his daughter's shame. +It seems that nothing could be more frightful than the +destitution of all this family, who lived in a wretched +garret in the Rue du Temple."</p> + +<p>"The Rue du Temple!" exclaimed Madame d'Harville, +much astonished; "what is the workman's name?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"His daughter's name is Louise Morel."</p> + +<p>"'Tis as I thought, then!"</p> + +<p>"She was in the service of a respectable lawyer named +M. Jacques Ferrand."</p> + +<p>"This poor family has been recommended to me," +said Clémence, blushing; "but I was far from expecting +to see it bowed down by this fresh and terrible blow. +And Louise Morel—"</p> + +<p>"Declares her innocence, and affirms her child was +born dead; and it seems as if hers were accents of +truth. Since your ladyship takes an interest in this +family, if you would be so good as to see the poor girl, +perhaps this mark of your kindness might soothe her +despair, which they tell me is really alarming."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I will see her; then I shall have two protégées +instead of one, Louise Morel and La Goualeuse, +for all you tell me relative to this poor girl interests me +excessively. But what must be done to obtain her +liberty? I will then find a situation for her. I will +take care of her in future."</p> + +<p>"With your connections, madame, it will be very easy +for you to obtain her liberty the day after to-morrow, for +it is at the discretion of the Prefect of Police, and the +application of a person of consequence would be decisive +with him. But I have wandered from the observation +which I made on the slumber of La Goualeuse; and, with +reference to this, I must confess that I should not be +astonished if, to the deeply painful feeling of her first +error, there is added some other grief no less severe."</p> + +<p>"What mean you, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am deceived; but I should not be astonished +if this young girl, rescued by some circumstance +from the degradation in which she was first plunged, has +now some honest love, which is at the same time her +happiness and her torment."</p> + +<p>"What are your reasons for believing this?"</p> + +<p>"The determined silence which she keeps as to where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +she has passed the three months which followed her +departure from the Cité makes me think that she fears +being discovered by the persons with whom she in all +probability found a shelter."</p> + +<p>"Why should she fear this?"</p> + +<p>"Because then she would have to own to a previous +life, of which they are no doubt ignorant."</p> + +<p>"True; her peasant's dress."</p> + +<p>"And then a subsequent circumstance has confirmed +my suspicions. Yesterday evening, when I was walking +my round of inspection in the dormitory, I went up to +La Goualeuse's bed. She was in a deep sleep, and, +unlike her companions, her features were calm and tranquil. +Her long, light hair, half disengaged from their +bands, fell in profusion down her neck and shoulders. +Her two small hands were clasped, and crossed over her +bosom, as if she had gone to sleep whilst praying. I +looked for some moments with interest at her lovely +face, when, in a low voice, and with an accent at once +respectful, sad, and impassioned, she uttered a name."</p> + +<p>"And that name?"</p> + +<p>After a moment's silence, Madame Armand replied, +gravely:</p> + +<p>"Although I consider that anything learnt during +sleep is sacred, yet you interest yourself so generously +in this unfortunate girl, madame, that I will confide +this name to your secrecy. It was Rodolph."</p> + +<p>"Rodolph!" exclaimed Madame d'Harville, thinking +of the prince. Then, reflecting that, after all, his +highness the Grand Duke of Gerolstein could have +no connection with the Rodolph of the poor Goualeuse, +she said to the inspectress, who seemed astonished at +her exclamation:</p> + +<p>"The name has surprised me, madame, for, by a +singular chance, it is that of a relation of mine; but +what you tell me of La Goualeuse interests me more +and more. Can I see her to-day? now—directly?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, I will go, as you wish it, and ask her; +I can also learn more of Louise Morel, who is in the +other side of the prison."</p> + +<p>"I shall, indeed, be greatly obliged to you, madame," +replied Madame d'Harville, who the next moment was +alone.</p> + +<p>"How strange!" she said. "I cannot account for the +singular impression which this name of Rodolph makes +upon me! I am really quite insane! What connection +can there be between him and such a creature?" +Then, after a moment's silence, the marchioness added, +"He was right; how all this does interest me! The +mind, the heart, expand when they are occupied so +nobly! 'Tis as he said; we seem to participate somewhat +in the power of Providence when we aid those who +deserve it; and, then, these excursions into a world of +which we had no idea are so attractive,—so amusing, as +he said so pleasantly! What romance could give me +such deep feelings, excite my curiosity to such a pitch? +This poor Goualeuse, for instance, has inspired me with +deep pity, after all I have heard of her; and I will +blindly follow up this commiseration, for the inspectress +has too much experience to be deceived with respect +to our protégée. And the other unhappy girl,—the +artisan's daughter, whom the prince has so generously +succoured in my name! Poor people! their bitter suffering +has served as a pretext to save me. I have +escaped shame, perhaps death, by a hypocritical falsehood. +This deceit weighs on my mind, but I will expiate +my fault by my charity, though that may be too easy a +mode. It is so sweet to follow Rodolph's noble advice! +It is to love as well as to obey him. Oh, I feel it with +rapture! His breath, alone, animates and fertilises the +new existence which he has given me in directing me to +console those who suffer. I experience an unalloyed +delight in acting but as he directs, in having no ideas +but his; for I love him,—ah, yes, I love him! And yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +he shall always be in ignorance of this, the lasting +passion of my life."</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Whilst Madame d'Harville is waiting for La Goualeuse, +we will conduct the reader into the presence of +the prisoners.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> + +<h5>MONT SAINT-JEAN.</h5> + + +<p>It was just two o'clock by the dial of the prison of +St. Lazare. The cold, which had lasted for several +days, had been succeeded by soft, mild, and almost +spring weather; the rays of the sun were reflected in the +water of the large square basin, with its stone corners, +formed in the centre of a courtyard planted with trees, +and surrounded by dark, high walls pierced with a great +many iron-barred windows. Wooden benches were fastened +here and there in this large paved enclosure, which +served for the walking-place of the prisoners. The +ringing of a bell announcing the hour of recreation, the +prisoners came in throngs by a thick wicket-door which +was opened to them. These women, all clad alike, wore +black skull-caps and long loose gowns of blue woollen +cloth, fastened around the waist by a band and iron +buckle. There were there two hundred prostitutes, sentenced +for breach of the particular laws which control +them and place them out of the pale of the common law. +At first sight their appearance had nothing striking, but, +after regarding them with further attention, there might +be detected in each face the almost ineffaceable stigmas +of vice, and particularly that brutishness which ignorance +and misery invariably engender. Whilst contemplating +these masses of lost creatures, we cannot help +recollecting with sorrow that most of them have been +pure and honest, at least at some former period. We +say "most of them," because there are some who have +been corrupted, vitiated, depraved, not only from their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +youth, but from tenderest infancy,—even from their +very birth, if we may say so; and we shall prove it as +we proceed.</p> + +<p>We ask ourselves, then, with painful curiosity, what +chain of fatal causes could thus debase these unhappy +creatures, who have known shame and chastity? There +are so many declivities, alas, which verge to that fall! +It is rarely the passion of the depraved for depravity; +but dissipation, bad example, perverse education, and, +above all, want, which lead so many unfortunates to +infamy; and it is the poor classes alone who pay to +civilisation this impost on soul and body.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>When the prisoners came into the yard, running and +crying out, it was easy to discern that it was not alone +the pleasure of leaving their work that made them so +noisy. After having hurried forth by the only gate +which led to this yard, the crowd spread out and made +a ring around a misshapen being, whom they assailed +with shouts. She was a small woman, from thirty-six to +forty years of age; short, round-shouldered, deformed, +and with her neck buried between shoulders of unequal +height. They had snatched off her black cap, and her +hair, which was flaxen, or rather a pale yellow, coarse, +matted, and mingled with gray, fell over her low and +stupid features. She was clad in a blue loose gown, +like the other prisoners, and had under her right arm +a small bundle, wrapped up in a miserable, ragged, +checked pocket-handkerchief. With her left elbow she +endeavoured to ward off the blows aimed at her. Nothing +could be more lamentably ludicrous than the visage +of this unhappy woman. She was hideous and distorted +in figure, with projecting features, wrinkled, tanned, and +dirty, which were pierced with two holes for nostrils, +and two small, red, bloodshot eyes. By turns wrathful +and imploring, she scolded and entreated; but they +laughed even more at her complaints than her threats.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +This woman was the plaything of the prisoners. One +thing ought, however, to have protected her from such +ill-usage,—she was evidently about to become a mother; +but her ugliness, her imbecility, and the custom they +had of considering her as a victim intended for common +sport, rendered her persecutors implacable, in spite of +their usual respect for maternity.</p> + +<p>Amongst the fiercest enemies of Mont Saint-Jean +(that was the unhappy wretch's name), La Louve was +conspicuous. La Louve was a strapping girl of twenty, +active, and powerfully grown, with regular features. +Her coarse black hair was varied by reddish shades, +whilst her blood suffused her skin with its hue; a brown +down shaded her thin lips; her chestnut eyebrows, thick +and projecting, were united over her large and fierce +eyes. There was something violent, savage, and brutal +in the expression of this woman's physiognomy,—a sort +of habitual sneer, which curled her upper lip during a +fit of rage, and, exposing her white and wide-apart teeth, +accounted for her name of La Louve (the she-wolf). +Yet in that countenance there was more of boldness and +insolence than cruelty; and, in a word, it was seen that, +rather become vicious than born so, this woman was still +susceptible of certain good impulses, as the inspectress +had told Madame d'Harville.</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas! What have I done?" exclaimed Mont +Saint-Jean, struggling in the midst of her companions. +"Why are you so cruel to me?"</p> + +<p>"Because it is so amusing."</p> + +<p>"Because you are only fit to be teased."</p> + +<p>"It is your business."</p> + +<p>"Look at yourself, and you will see that you have no +right to complain."</p> + +<p>"But you know well enough that I don't complain as +long as I can help it; I bear it as long as I can."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll let you alone, if you will tell us why you +call yourself Mont Saint-Jean."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; come, tell us all that directly."</p> + +<p>"Why, I've told you a hundred times. It was an old +soldier that I loved a long while ago, and who was called +so because he was wounded at the battle of Mont Saint-Jean; +so I took his name. That's it; now are you +satisfied? You will make me repeat the same thing +over, and over, and over!"</p> + +<p>"If your soldier was like you, he was a beauty!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he was in the Invalids?"</p> + +<p>"The remains of a man—"</p> + +<p>"How many glass eyes had he?"</p> + +<p>"And wasn't his nose of block tin?"</p> + +<p>"He must have been short of two arms and two legs, +besides being deaf and blind, if he took up with you."</p> + +<p>"I am ugly,—a monster, I know that as well as you +can tell me. Say what you like,—make game of me, if +you choose, it's all one to me; only don't beat me, that's +all, I beg!"</p> + +<p>"What have you got in that old handkerchief?" +asked La Louve.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Show it up directly!"</p> + +<p>"Let's see! Let's see!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I beg!" exclaimed the miserable creature, +squeezing up the little bundle in her hands with all her +might.</p> + +<p>"What! Must we take it from you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, snatch it from her, La Louve!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you won't be so wicked? Let it go! Let it go, +I say!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's the beginning of my baby linen; I make +it with the old bits of linen which no one wants, and I +pick up. It's nothing to you, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the baby linen of Mont Saint-Jean's little one! +That must be a rum set out!"</p> + +<p>"Let's look at it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The baby clothes! The baby clothes!"</p> + +<p>"She has taken measure of the keeper's little dog, no +doubt."</p> + +<p>"Here's your baby clothes," cried La Louve, snatching +the bundle from Mont Saint-Jean's grasp.</p> + +<p>The handkerchief, already torn, was now rent to +tatters, and a quantity of fragments of stuff of all +colours, and old pieces of linen half cut out, flew +around the yard, and were trampled under feet by the +prisoners, who holloaed and laughed louder than before.</p> + +<p>"Here's your rags!"</p> + +<p>"Why, it is a ragpicker's bag."</p> + +<p>"Patterns from the ragman's."</p> + +<p>"What a shop!"</p> + +<p>"And to sew all that rubbish!"</p> + +<p>"Why, there's more thread than stuff."</p> + +<p>"What nice embroidery!"</p> + +<p>"Here, pick up your rags and tatters, Mont Saint-Jean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how wicked! Oh, how cruel!" exclaimed the +poor ill-used creature, running in every direction after +the pieces, which she endeavoured to pick up in spite of +pushes and blows. "I never did anybody any harm," +she added, weeping. "I have offered, if they would let +me alone, to do anything I could for anybody, to give +them half my allowance, although I am always so +hungry; but, no! no! it's always so. What can I +do to be left in peace? They haven't even pity of a +poor woman in the family way. They are more cruel +than the beasts. Oh, the trouble I had to collect these +little bits of linen! How else can I make the clothes for +my baby, for I have no money to buy them with? What +harm was there in picking up what nobody else wanted +when it was thrown away?" Then Mont Saint-Jean +exclaimed suddenly, with a ray of hope, "Oh, there you +are, Goualeuse! Now, then, I'm safe; do speak to them +for me; they will listen to you, I am sure, for they love +you as much as they hate me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>La Goualeuse was the last of the prisoners who +entered the enclosure.</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie wore the blue woollen gown and black +skull-cap of the prisoners; but even in this coarse costume +she was still charming. Yet, since her carrying +off from the farm of Bouqueval (the consequences of +which circumstance we will explain hereafter), her +features seemed greatly altered; her pale cheeks, +formerly tinged with a slight colour, were as wan +as the whiteness of alabaster; the expression, too, of +her countenance had changed, and was now imprinted +with a kind of dignified grief. Fleur-de-Marie felt that +to bear courageously the painful sacrifices of expiation is +almost to attain restored position.</p> + +<p>"Ask a favour for me, Goualeuse," said poor Mont +Saint-Jean, beseechingly, to the young girl; "see how +they are flinging about the yard all I had collected, with +so much trouble, to begin my baby linen for my child. +What good can it do them?"</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie did not say a word, but began very +actively to pick up, one by one, from under the women's +feet, all the rags she could collect. One prisoner ill-temperedly +kept her foot on a sort of little bed-gown +of coarse woollen cloth. Fleur-de-Marie, still stooping, +looked up at the woman, and said to her in a sweet +tone:</p> + +<p>"I beg of you let me pick it up. I ask it in the name +of this poor woman who is weeping."</p> + +<p>The prisoner removed her foot. The bed-gown was +rescued, as well as most of the other scraps, which La +Goualeuse acquired piece by piece. There remained to +obtain a small child's cap, which two prisoners were +struggling for, and laughing at. Fleur-de-Marie said +to them:</p> + +<p>"Be all good, pray do. Let me have the little cap."</p> + +<p>"Oh, to be sure! It's for a harlequin in swaddling-clothes +this cap is! It is made of a bit of gray stuff,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +with points of green and black fustian, and lined with +a bit of an old mattress cover."</p> + +<p>The description was exact, and was hailed with loud +and long-continued shoutings.</p> + +<p>"Laugh away, but let me have it," said Mont Saint-Jean; +"and pray do not drag it in the mud as you have +some of the other things. I'm sorry you've made your +hands so dirty for me, Goualeuse," she added, in a +grateful tone.</p> + +<p>"Let me have the harlequin's cap," said La Louve, +who obtained possession of it, and waved it in the air as +a trophy.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me, I entreat you," said Goualeuse.</p> + +<p>"No! You want to give it back to Mont Saint-Jean."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is not worth while, it is such a rag."</p> + +<p>"Mont Saint-Jean has nothing but rags to dress her +child in, and you ought to have pity upon her, La Louve," +said Fleur-de-Marie, in a mournful voice, and stretching +out her hand towards the cap.</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't have it!" answered La Louve, in a +brutal tone; "must everybody always give way to you +because you are the weakest? You come, I see, to abuse +the kindness that is shown to you."</p> + +<p>"But," said La Goualeuse, with a smile full of sweetness, +"where would be the merit of giving up to me, if +I were the stronger of the two?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; you want to wheedle me over with your +smooth, canting words; but it won't do,—you sha'n't +have it, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, now, La Louve, do not be ill-natured."</p> + +<p>"Let me alone! You tire me to death!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray do!"</p> + +<p>"I will not!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, do,—let me beg of you!"</p> + +<p>"Now, don't put me in a passion," exclaimed La Louve, +thoroughly irritated. "I have said no, and I mean no."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Take pity on the poor thing, see how she is crying!"</p> + +<p>"What is that to me? So much the worse for her; +she is our pain-bearer" (<i>souffre douleur</i>).</p> + +<p>"So she is," murmured out a number of the prisoners, +instigated by the example of La Louve. "No, no, she +ought not to have her rags back! So much the worse +for Mont Saint-Jean."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Fleur-de-Marie, with bitterness; +"it is so much the worse for her; she is your pain-bearer, +she ought to submit herself to your pleasure,—her tears +and sighs amuse and divert you!—and you must have +some way of passing your time. Were you to kill her +on the spot, she would have no right to say anything. +You speak truly, La Louve, this is just and fair, is it not? +Here is a poor, weak, defenceless woman; alone in the +midst of so many, she is quite unable to defend herself, +yet you all combine against her! Certainly your +behaviour towards her is most just and generous!"</p> + +<p>"And I suppose you mean to say we are all a parcel +of cowards?" retorted La Louve, carried away by the +violence of her disposition and extreme impatience at +anything like contradiction. "Answer me, do you call us +cowards, eh? Speak out, and let us know your meaning," +continued she, growing more and more incensed.</p> + +<p>A murmur of displeasure against La Goualeuse, not +unmixed with threats, arose from the assembled crowd. +The offended prisoners thronged around her, vociferating +their disapprobation, forgetting, or remembering but as +a fresh cause of offence, the ascendency she had until the +present moment exercised over them.</p> + +<p>"She calls us cowards, you see!"</p> + +<p>"What business has she to find fault with us?"</p> + +<p>"Is she better than we are, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, we have all been too kind to her!"</p> + +<p>"And now she wants to give herself fine lady airs, and +to domineer over us! If we choose to torment Mont +Saint-Jean, what need has she to interfere?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Since it has come to this, I tell you what, Mont +Saint-Jean, you shall fare the worse for it for the +future."</p> + +<p>"Take this to begin with!" said one of the most +violent of the party, giving her a blow.</p> + +<p>"And if you meddle again with what does not concern +you, La Goualeuse, we will serve you the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that we will."</p> + +<p>"But that is not all!" said La Louve. "La Goualeuse +must ask our pardon for having called us cowards. +She must and she shall! If we don't put a stop to her +goings on, she will soon leave us without the power of +saying our soul is our own, and we are great fools not +to have seen this sooner."</p> + +<p>"Make her ask our pardon."</p> + +<p>"On her knee."</p> + +<p>"On both knees."</p> + +<p>"Or we will serve her precisely the same as we did +her protégée, Mont Saint-Jean!"</p> + +<p>"Down on her knees! Down with her!"</p> + +<p>"Lo! we are cowards, are we?"</p> + +<p>"Dare to say it again!"</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie allowed this tumult to pass away, ere +she replied to the many furious voices that were raging +around her. Then, casting a mild and melancholy glance +at the exasperated crowd, she said to La Louve, who +persisted in vociferating, "Will you dare to call us +cowards again?"</p> + +<p>"You? Oh, no, not you! I call this poor woman, whom +you have so roughly treated, whom you have dragged +through the mud, and whose clothes you have nearly +torn off, a coward. Do you not see how she trembles, +and dares not even look at you? No, no! I say again, +'tis she who is a coward, for being thus afraid of you."</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie had touched the right chord; in vain +might she have appealed to their sense of justice and +duty, in order to allay their bitter irritation against poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +Mont Saint-Jean; the stupid or brutalised minds of the +prisoners would alike have been inaccessible to her pleadings; +but, by addressing herself to that sentiment of +generosity, which is never wholly extinct, even in the +most depraved characters, she kindled a spark of pity, +that required but skilful management to fan into a flame +of commiseration, instead of hatred and violence. La +Louve, amid their continued murmurings against La +Goualeuse and her protégée, felt, and confessed, that +their conduct had been both unwomanly and cowardly.</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie would not carry her first triumph too +far. She contented herself with merely saying:</p> + +<p>"Surely, if this poor creature, whom you call yours, +to tease, to torment, to ill-use,—in fact, your <i>souffre +douleur</i>,—be not worthy of your pity, her infant has +done nothing to offend you. Did you forget, when striking +the mother, that the unborn babe might suffer from +your blows? And when she besought your mercy, 'twas +not for herself, but her child. When she craves of you +a morsel of bread, if, indeed, you have it to spare, 'tis +not to satisfy her own hunger she begs it, but that her +infant may live; and when, with streaming eyes, she +implored of you to spare the few rags she had with +so much difficulty collected together, it arose from a +mother's love for that unseen treasure her heart so loves +and prizes. This poor little patchwork cap, and the +pieces of old mattresses she has so awkwardly sewed +together, no doubt appear to you fit objects of mirth; +but, for my own part, I feel far more inclined to cry +than to laugh at seeing the poor creature's instinctive +attempts to provide for her babe. So, if you laugh at +Mont Saint-Jean, let me come in for my share of your +ridicule."</p> + +<p>Not the faintest attempt at a smile appeared on any +countenance, and La Louve continued, with fixed gaze, +to contemplate the little cap she still held in her hand.</p> + +<p>"I know very well," said Fleur-de-Marie, drying her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +eyes with the back of her white and delicate hand,—"I +know very well that you are not really ill-natured or +cruel, and that you merely torment Mont Saint-Jean +from thoughtlessness. But consider that she and her +infant are one. If she held it in her arms, not only +would you carefully avoid doing it the least injury, but +I am quite sure, if it were cold, you would even take +from your own garments to cover it. Would not you, +La Louve? Oh, I know you would, every one of +you!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure we would,—every one pities a tender +baby."</p> + +<p>"That is quite natural."</p> + +<p>"And if it cried with hunger, you would take the +bread from your own mouth to feed it with. Would +not you, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"That I would, and willingly, too! I am not more +hard-hearted than other people!"</p> + +<p>"Nor more are we!"</p> + +<p>"A poor, helpless, little creature!"</p> + +<p>"Who could have the heart to think of harming it?"</p> + +<p>"They must be downright monsters!"</p> + +<p>"Perfect savages!"</p> + +<p>"Worse than wild beasts!"</p> + +<p>"I told you so," resumed Fleur-de-Marie. "I said +you were not intentionally unkind; and you have proved +that you are good and pitying towards Mont Saint-Jean. +The fault consisted in your not reflecting that, although +her child is yet unborn, it is still liable to harm from +any mischief that befalls its mother. That is all the +wrong you have done."</p> + +<p>"All the wrong we have done!" exclaimed La +Louve, much excited. "But I say it is not all. You +were right, La Goualeuse. We acted like a set of +cowards; and you alone deserve to be called courageous, +because you did not fear to tell us so, or shrink from us +after you had told us. It is nonsense to seek to deny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +the fact that you are not a creature like us,—it is no +use trying to persuade ourselves you are like such beings +as we are, so we may as well give it up. I don't like to +own it, but it is so; and I may just as well confess it. +Just now, when we were all in the wrong, you had courage +enough, not only to refuse to join us, but to tell us +of our fault."</p> + +<p>"That is true enough; and the fair-faced girl must +have had a pretty stock of courage to tell us the truth +so plainly to our faces."</p> + +<p>"But, bless you, these blue-eyed people, who look so +soft and gentle, if once they are worked up—"</p> + +<p>"They become courageous as lions."</p> + +<p>"Poor Mont Saint-Jean! She has good reason to be +thankful to her!"</p> + +<p>"What she says is true enough. We could not injure +the mother without harming the child also."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Nor I either."</p> + +<p>"But you see La Goualeuse did,—she never forgets +anything."</p> + +<p>"The idea of hurting an infant! horrible! Is it not?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure there is not one of us would do it for anything +that could be offered us."</p> + +<p>Nothing is more variable than popular passion, or +more abrupt than its rapid transition from bad to good, +and even the reverse. The simple yet touching arguments +of Fleur-de-Marie had effected a powerful reaction +in favour of Mont Saint-Jean, who shed tears of deep +joy. Every heart seemed moved; for, as we have already +said, the womanly feelings of the prisoners had +been awakened, and they now felt a solicitude for the +unhappy creature in proportion as they had formerly +held her in dislike and contempt. All at once, La +Louve, violent and impetuous in all her actions, twisted +the little cap she held in her hand into a sort of purse, +and feeling in her pocket brought out twenty sous, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +she threw into the purse; then presenting it to her +companions, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Here is my twenty sous towards buying baby clothes +for Mont Saint-Jean's child. We will cut them out and +make them ourselves, in order that the work may cost +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, let us."</p> + +<p>"To be sure,—let us all join!"</p> + +<p>"I will for one."</p> + +<p>"What a capital idea!"</p> + +<p>"Poor creature!"</p> + +<p>"Though she is so frightfully ugly, yet she has a +mother's feelings the same as another."</p> + +<p>"La Goualeuse was right. It is really enough to +make one cry one's eyes out, to see what a wretched +collection of rags the poor creature has scraped together +for her baby."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll give thirty sous."</p> + +<p>"And I ten."</p> + +<p>"I'll give twenty sous."</p> + +<p>"I've only got four sous, but I'll give them."</p> + +<p>"I have no money at all; but I'll sell my allowance +for to-morrow, and put whatever any one will give for it +into the collection. Who'll buy my to-morrow's rations?"</p> + +<p>"I will," said La Louve. "So, here I put in ten sous +for you; but you shall keep your rations. And now, +Mont Saint-Jean shall have baby clothes fit for a +princess."</p> + +<p>To express the joy and gratitude of Mont Saint-Jean +would be wholly impossible. The most intense delight +and happiness illumined her countenance, and rendered +even her usual hideous features interesting. Fleur-de-Marie +was almost as happy, though compelled to say, +when La Louve handed to her the collecting-cap:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry I have not a single sou of money, +but I will work as long as you please at making the +clothes."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear heavenly angel!" cried Mont Saint-Jean, +throwing herself on her knees before La Goualeuse, +and striving to kiss her hand. "What have I +ever done to merit such goodness on your part, or the +charity of these kind ladies? Gracious Father! Do +I hear aright? Baby things! and all nice and comfortable +for my child! A real, proper set of baby clothes! +Everything I can require! Who would ever have thought +of such a thing? I am sure I never should. I shall lose +my senses with joy! Only to think that a poor, miserable +wretch like myself, the make-game of everybody, +should all at once, just because you spoke a few soft, +sweet words out of that heavenly mouth, have such +wonderful blessings! See how your words have changed +those who meant to harm me, but who now pity me and +are my friends; and I feel as though I could never thank +them enough, or express my gratitude! Oh, how very, +very kind of them! How wrong of me to be offended +and angry with what they said! How stupid and ungrateful +I must have been not to perceive that they were +only playing with me,—that they had no intention of +harming me. Oh, no! It was all meant for my good. +Here is a proof of it. Oh, for the future, if they like to +knock me about ever so, I will not so much as cry out! +Oh, I was too impatient when I complained before; but +I will make up for it next time!"</p> + +<p>"Eighty-eight francs seven sous!" said La Louve, +finishing her reckoning of the collection gathered by +handing about the little bonnet. "Who will be treasurer +till we lay out the money? We must not entrust +it to Mont Saint-Jean, she is too simple."</p> + +<p>"Let La Goualeuse take charge of it!" cried a +unanimous burst of voices.</p> + +<p>"No," said Fleur-de-Marie; "the best way will be to +beg of the inspectress, Madame Armand, to take charge +of the sum collected, and to buy the necessary articles +for Mont Saint-Jean's confinement; and then,—who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +knows?—perhaps Madame Armand may take notice +of the good action you have performed, and report it, +so as to be the means of shortening the imprisonment +of all whose names are mentioned as being concerned +in it. Tell me, La Louve," added Fleur-de-Marie, taking +her companion by the arm, "are you not better +satisfied with yourself than you were just now, when +you were throwing about all Mont Saint-Jean's poor +baby's things?"</p> + +<p>La Louve did not immediately reply. To the generous +excitement which a few moments before animated her +features, succeeded a sort of half savage air of defiance. +Unable to comprehend the cause of this sudden change, +Fleur-de-Marie looked at her with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Come here, La Goualeuse," said La Louve at last, +with a gloomy tone; "I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p>Then abruptly quitting the other prisoners, she led +Fleur-de-Marie to a reservoir of water, surrounded by +a stone coping, which had been hollowed out in the +midst of an adjoining meadow. Near the water was +a bench, also of stone, on which La Louve and La Goualeuse +placed themselves, and were thus, in a manner, +beyond the observation or hearing of their companions.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3> + +<h5>LA LOUVE AND LA GOUALEUSE.</h5> + + +<p>We firmly believe in the influence of certain master +minds so far sympathising with the masses, so powerful +over them as to impose on them the bias of good or evil. +Some, bold, enthusiastic, indomitable, addressing themselves +to the worst passions, will rouse them, as the +storm raises the foam of the sea; but, like all tempests, +these are as ephemeral as they are furious; to these terrible +effervescences will succeed the sullen reversion of +sadness and restlessness, which will obtain supremacy +over the most miserable conditions. The reaction of +violence is always severe; the waking after an excess is +always painful.</p> + +<p>La Louve, if you will, personifies this fatal influence.</p> + +<p>Other organisations, more rare, because their generous +instincts must be fertilised by intelligence, and with +them the mind is on an equality with the heart,—others, +we say, will inspire good, as well as some inspire +evil. Their wholesome influence will gently penetrate +into the soul, as the warm rays of the sun penetrate the +body with invigorating heat, as the arid and burning +earth imbibes the fresh and grateful dew of night.</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie, if you will, personifies this benevolent +influence.</p> + +<p>The reaction to good is not so sudden as the reaction +to evil; its effects are more protracted. It is something +delicious, inexplicable, which gradually extends itself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +calms and soothes the most hardened heart, and gives +it the feeling of inexpressible serenity. Unfortunately +the charm ceases.</p> + +<p>After having seen celestial brightness, ill-disposed persons +fall back into the darkness of their habitual life; +the recollections of sweet emotions which have for a +moment surprised them are gradually effaced. Still +they sometimes seek vaguely to recall them, even as we +try to murmur out the songs with which our happy +infancy was cradled. Thanks to the good action with +which she had inspired them, the companions of La Goualeuse +had tasted of the passing sweetness of these feelings, +in which even La Louve had participated; but this +latter, for reasons we shall describe hereafter, remained +a shorter time than the other prisoners under this benevolent +feeling. If we are surprised to hear and see Fleur-de-Marie, +hitherto so passively, so painfully resigned, act +and speak with courage and authority, it was because +the noble precepts she had imbibed during her residence +at the farm at Bouqueval had rapidly developed the rare +qualities of her admirable disposition. Fleur-de-Marie +understood that it is not sufficient to bewail the irreparable +past, and that it is only in doing or inspiring good +that a reinstatement can be hoped for.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>We have said that La Louve was sitting on a wooden +bench, beside La Goualeuse. The close proximity of +these two young girls offered a singular contrast.</p> + +<p>The pale rays of a winter sun were shed over them; +the pure sky was speckled in places with small, white, +and fleecy clouds; some birds, enlivened by the warmth +of the temperature, were warbling in the black branches +of the large chestnut-trees in the yard; two or three +sparrows, more bold than their fellows, came and drank +in a small rivulet formed by the overflow of the basin; +the green moss covered the stones of the fountain, and +between their joints, here and there, were tufts of grass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +and some small creepers, spared by the frost. This +description of a prison-basin may seem puerile; but +Fleur-de-Marie did not lose one of the details, but with +her eyes fixed mournfully on the little verdant corner, +and on this limpid water in which the moving whiteness +of the clouds over the azure of the heavens was reflected, +in which the golden rays of a lovely sun broke with +beautiful lustre, she thought with a sigh of the magnificence +of the Nature which she loved, which she admired +so poetically, and of which she was still deprived.</p> + +<p>"What did you wish to say to me?" asked La Goualeuse +of her companion, who, seated beside her, was +gloomy and silent.</p> + +<p>"We must have an explanation," said La Louve, +sternly; "things cannot go on as they are."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you, La Louve."</p> + +<p>"Just now, in the yard, referring to Mont Saint-Jean, +I said to myself, 'I won't give way any more to La +Goualeuse,' and yet I do give way now."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"But I tell you it cannot continue so."</p> + +<p>"In what have I offended you, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I am not the same person I was when you +came here; no, I have neither courage, strength, nor +boldness."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly checking herself, La Louve pulled up +the sleeve of her gown, and showing La Goualeuse her +white arm, powerful, and covered with black down, she +showed her, on the upper part of it, an indelible tattooing, +representing a blue dagger half plunged in a red +heart; over this emblem were these words:</p> + +<p class="center"> +MORT AUX LÂCHES!<br /> +MARTIAL<br /> +P. L. V. (<i>pour la vie</i>.)<br /> +(DEATH TO COWARDS!<br /> +MARTIAL<br /> +FOR LIFE!)<br /></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" asked La Louve.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and it is so shocking, it quite frightens me," +said La Goualeuse, turning away her head.</p> + +<p>"When Martial, my lover, wrote, with a red-hot +needle, these words on my arm, 'Death to Cowards!' he +thought me brave; if he knew my behaviour for the last +three days, he would stick his knife in my body, as this +dagger is driven into this heart,—and he would be right, +for he wrote here, 'Death to Cowards!' and I am a +coward."</p> + +<p>"What have you done that is cowardly?"</p> + +<p>"Everything."</p> + +<p>"Do you regret the good resolution you made just +now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I cannot believe you."</p> + +<p>"I say I do regret it,—for it is another proof of +what you can do with all of us. Didn't you understand +what Mont Saint-Jean meant when she went on her +knees to thank you?"</p> + +<p>"What did she say?"</p> + +<p>"She said, speaking of you, that with nothing you +turned us from evil to good. I could have throttled her +when she said it, for, to our shame, it was true. Yes, +in no time you change us from black to white. We +listen to you,—give way to our first feelings, and are +your dupes, as we were just now."</p> + +<p>"My dupe! for having generously succoured this poor +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it has nothing to do with all that," exclaimed +La Louve, with rage. "I have never till now stooped my +head before a breathing soul. La Louve is my name, +and I am well named: more than one woman bears my +marks, and more than one man, too; and it shall never +be said that a little chit like you can place me beneath +her feet."</p> + +<p>"Me! and in what way?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How do I know! You come here, and first begin +by insulting me."</p> + +<p>"Insult you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—you ask who'll have your bread. I first say—<i>I.</i> +Mont Saint-Jean did not ask for it till afterwards, +and yet you give her the preference. Enraged at that, +I rushed at you with my uplifted knife—"</p> + +<p>"And I said to you, 'Kill me, if you like, but do not +let me linger long,' and that is all."</p> + +<p>"That is all? Yes, that is all. And yet these +words made me drop my knife,—made me—ask your +pardon,—yes, pardon of you who insulted me. Is that +natural? Why, when I recovered my senses, I was +ashamed of myself. The evening you came here, when +you were on your knees to say your prayers,—why, +instead of making game of you, and setting all the +dormitory on you, did I say, 'Let her alone; she prays, +and has a right to pray?' Then the next day, why +were I and all the others ashamed to dress ourselves +before you?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, La Louve."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" replied the violent creature, with irony. +"You don't know! Why, no doubt, it is because, as we +have all of us said, jokingly, that you are of a different +sort from us. You think so, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I have never said that I thought so."</p> + +<p>"No, you have not said so; but you behave just as if +it were so."</p> + +<p>"I beg of you to listen to me."</p> + +<p>"No, I have been already too foolish to listen to you—to +look at you. Till now, I never envied any one. +Well, two or three times I have been surprised at +myself. Am I growing a fool or a coward? I have +found myself envious of your face, so like the Holy +Virgin's; of your gentle and mournful look. Yes, I +have even been envious of your chestnut hair and your +blue eyes. I, who detest fair women, because I am dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +myself, wish to resemble you. I! La Louve! I! Why, +it is but eight days since, and I would have marked +any one who dared but say so. Yet it is not your lot +that would tempt one, for you are as full of grief as a +Magdalene. Is it natural, I say, eh?"</p> + +<p>"How can I account to you for the impression I make +upon you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know well enough what you do, though +you look as if you were too delicate to be touched."</p> + +<p>"What bad design can you suppose me capable of?"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell? It is because I do not understand +anything of all this that I mistrust you. Another +thing, too: until now I have always been merry or +passionate, and never thoughtful, but you—you have +made me thoughtful. Yes, there are words which +you utter, that, in spite of myself, have shaken my +very heart, and made me think of all sorts of sad +things."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, La Louve, if I ever made you sad; but +I do not remember ever having said anything—"</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried La Louve, interrupting her companion +with angry impatience, "what you do is sometimes as +affecting as what you say! You are so clever!"</p> + +<p>"Do not be angry, La Louve, but explain what you +mean."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday, in the workroom, I noticed you,—you +bent your head over the work you were sewing, and +a large tear fell on your hand. You looked at it for a +minute, and then you lifted your hand to your lips, as if +to kiss and wipe it away. Is this true?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said La Goualeuse, blushing.</p> + +<p>"There was nothing in this; but at the moment you +looked so unhappy, so very miserable, that I felt my very +heart turned, as it were, inside out. Tell me, do you find +this amusing? Why, now, I have been as hard as flint +on all occasions. No one ever saw me shed a tear,—and +yet, only looking at your chit face, I felt my heart sink<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +basely within me! Yes, for this is baseness,—pure +cowardice; and the proof is, that for three days I have +not dared to write to Martial, my lover, my conscience +is so bad. Yes, being with you has enfeebled my mind, +and this must be put an end to,—there's enough of +it; this will else do me mischief, I am sure. I wish +to remain as I am, and not become a joke and despised +thing to myself."</p> + +<p>"You are angry with me, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are a bad acquaintance for me; and if it +continues, why, in a fortnight's time, instead of calling +me the She-wolf, they would call me the Ewe! But no, +thank ye, it sha'n't come to that yet,—Martial would +kill me; and so, to make an end of this matter, I will +break up all acquaintance with you; and that I may be +quite separated from you, I shall ask to be put in another +room. If they refuse me, I will do some piece of mischief +to put me in wind again, and that I may be sent to +the black-hole for the remainder of my time here. And +this was what I had to say to you, Goualeuse."</p> + +<p>Timidly taking her companion's hand, who looked at +her with gloomy distrust, Fleur-de-Marie said:</p> + +<p>"I am sure, La Louve, that you take an interest in +me, not because you are cowardly, but because you are +generous-hearted. Brave hearts are the only ones which +sympathise in the misfortunes of others."</p> + +<p>"There is neither generosity nor courage in it," said +La Louve, coarsely; "it is downright cowardice. Besides, +I don't choose to have it said that I sympathise +with any one. It ain't true."</p> + +<p>"Then I will not say so, La Louve; but since you +have taken an interest in me, you will let me feel +grateful to you, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you like! This evening, I shall be in another +room than yours, or alone in the dark hole, and I shall +soon be out, thank God!"</p> + +<p>"And where shall you go when you leave here?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, home, to be sure, to the Rue Pierre-Lescat. +I have my furniture there."</p> + +<p>"And Martial?" said La Goualeuse, who hoped to +keep up the conversation with La Louve, by interesting +her in what she most cared for; "shall you be glad to +see him again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes!" she replied, with a passionate air. +"When I was taken up, he was just recovering from +an illness,—a fever which he had from being always +in the water. For seventeen days and seventeen nights +I never left him for a moment, and I sold half my kit in +order to pay the doctor, the drags and all. I may boast +of that, and I do boast of it. If my man lives, it is I who +saved him. Yesterday I burnt another candle for him. +It is folly,—a mere whim,—but yet it is all one, and +we have sometimes very good effects in burning candles +for a person's recovery."</p> + +<p>"And, Martial, where is he now? What is he +doing?"</p> + +<p>"He is still on an island, near the bridge, at +Asnières."</p> + +<p>"On an island?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is settled there, with his family, in a lone +house. He is always at loggerheads with the persons +who protect the fishing; but when he is once in his boat, +with his double-barrelled gun, why, they who approach +him had better look out!" said La Louve, proudly.</p> + +<p>"What, then, is his occupation?"</p> + +<p>"He poaches in the night; and then, as he is as bold +as a lion, when some coward wishes to get up a quarrel +with another, why, he will lend his hand."</p> + +<p>"Where did you first know Martial?"</p> + +<p>"At Paris. He wished to be a locksmith,—a capital +business,—always with red-hot iron and fire around you; +dangerous you may suppose, but then that suited him. +But he, like me, was badly disposed, and could not agree +with his master; and then, too, they were always throwing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +his father and one of his brothers in his teeth. But +that's nothing to you. The end of it was, that he returned +to his mother, who is a very devil in sin and +wickedness, and began to poach on the river. He cannot +see me at Paris, and in the daytime I go to see him in +his island, the Ile du Ravageur, near Asnières. It's very +near; though if it were farther off, I would go all the +same, even if I went on my hands and knees, or swam +all the way, for I can swim like an otter."</p> + +<p>"You must be very happy to go into the country," +said La Goualeuse, with a sigh; "especially if you are +as fond as I am of walking in the fields."</p> + +<p>"I prefer walking in the woods and large forests with +my man."</p> + +<p>"In the forests! Oh, ain't you afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Afraid! Oh, yes, afraid! I should think so! +What can a she-wolf fear? The thicker and more +lonely the forest, the better I should like it. A lone +hut in which I should live with Martial as a poacher, +to go with him at night to set the snares for the game, +and then, if the keepers came to apprehend us, to fire +at them, both of us, whilst my man and I were hid in +underwood,—ah, that would indeed be happiness!"</p> + +<p>"Then you have lived in the woods, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Who gave you these ideas, then?"</p> + +<p>"Martial."</p> + +<p>"How did he acquire them?"</p> + +<p>"He was a poacher in the forest of Rambouillet; and +it is not a year ago that he was supposed to have fired +at a keeper who had fired at him, the vagabond! However, +there was no proof of the fact, but Martial was +obliged to leave that part of the country. Then he +came to Paris to try and be a locksmith, and then I first +saw him. As he was too wild to be on good terms with +his master, he preferred returning to his relations at +Asnières, and poach in the river; it is not so slavish.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +Still he always regrets the woods, and some day or +other will return to them. From his talking to me of +poaching and forests, he has crammed my head with +these ideas, and I now think that is the life I was +born for. But it is always so. What your man likes, +you like. If Martial had been a thief, I should have +been a thief. When one has a man, we like to be like +him."</p> + +<p>"And where are your own relations, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?"</p> + +<p>"Is it long since you saw them?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether they are dead or alive."</p> + +<p>"Were they, then, so very unkind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Neither kind nor unkind. I was about eleven years +old, I think, when my mother went off with a soldier. +My father, who was a day-labourer, brought home a +mistress with him into our garret, and two boys she +had,—one six, and the other my own age. She was a +barrow-woman. She went on pretty well at first, but +after a time, whilst she was out with her fruit, a fish-woman +used to come and drink with my father, and +this the apple-woman found out. Then, from this time, +every evening, we had such battles and rows in the +house that I and the two boys were half dead with +fright. We all three slept together, for we had but one +room. One day,—it was her birthday, Sainte Madeleine's +fête,—and she scolded him because he had not congratulated +her on it. From one word another arose, +and my father concluded by breaking her head with the +handle of the broom. I really thought he had killed +her. She fell like a lump of lead, but <i>la mère</i> Madeleine +was hard-lived, and hard-headed also. After that she +returned my father with interest all the blows he had +given her, and once bit him so savagely in the hand +that the piece of flesh remained between her teeth. I +must say that these contests were what we may call the +<i>grandes eaux</i> at Versailles. On common and working-days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +the skirmishes were of a lighter sort,—there were +bruises, but no blood."</p> + +<p>"Was this woman unkind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Mère Madeleine? No; on the contrary. She was +a little hasty, but, otherwise, a good sort of woman +enough. But at last my father got tired, and left her +and the little furniture we had. He came out of Burgundy, +and most probably returned to his own country. +I was fifteen or sixteen at this time."</p> + +<p>"And were you still with the old mistress of your +father?"</p> + +<p>"Where else should I be? Then she took up with a +tiler, who came to lodge with us. Of the two boys of +Mère Madeleine, one, the eldest, was drowned at the +Ile des Cygnes, and the other went apprentice to a +carpenter."</p> + +<p>"And what did you do with this woman?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I helped to draw her barrow, made the soup, +and carried her man his dinner; and when he came +home drunk, which happened oftener than was his turn, +I helped Mère Madeleine to keep him in order, for we +still lived in the same apartment. He was as vicious +as a sandy-haired donkey, when he was tipsy, and tried +to kill us. Once, if we had not snatched his axe from +him, he would certainly have murdered us both. Mère +Madeleine had a cut on the shoulder, which bled till the +room looked like a slaughter-house."</p> + +<p>"And how did you become—what—we—are?" +said Fleur-de-Marie, hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"Why, little Charley, Madeleine's son, who was afterwards +drowned at the Ile des Cygnes, was my first lover, +almost from the time when he, his mother, and his +brother, came to lodge with us when we were but mere +children; after him the tiler was my lover, who threatened +else to turn me out-of-doors. I was afraid that +Mère Madeleine would also send me away if she discovered +anything. She did, however; but as she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +really a good creature, she said, 'As it is so, and you +are sixteen years old, and fit for nothing, for you are too +self-willed to take a situation or learn a business, you +shall go with me and be inscribed in the police-books; +as you have no relations, I will answer for you, as I +brought you up, as one may say; and that will give you +a position authorised by the government, and you will +have nothing to do but to be merry and dress smart. I +shall have no uneasiness about you, and you will no +longer be a charge to me. What do you say to it, my +girl?' 'Why, I think indeed you are right,' was my +answer; 'I had not thought of that.' Well, we went +to the Bureau des Mœurs. She answered for me, in the +usual way, and from that time I was <i>inscrite</i>. I met +Mère Madeleine a year afterwards. I was drinking with +my man, and we asked her to join us, and she told us +that the tiler had been sentenced to the galleys. +Since then I have never seen her, but some one, I don't +remember who, declared that she had been seen at the +Morgue three months ago. If it were true, really so +much the worse, for Mère Madeleine was a good sort of +woman,—her heart was in her hand, and she had no +more gall than a pigeon."</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie, though plunged young in an atmosphere +of corruption, had subsequently breathed so pure +an air that she experienced a deeply painful sensation +at the horrid recital of La Louve. And if we have had +the sad courage to make it, it has been because all the +world should know that, hideous as it is, it is still +a thousand times less revolting than other countless +realities.</p> + +<p>Ignorance and misery often conduct the lower classes +to these fearful degradations, human and social.</p> + +<p>Yes; there is a crowd of hovels and dens, where +children and adults, girls and boys, legitimate children +and bastards, lying pell-mell on the same mattress, have +continually before their eyes these infamous examples<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +of drunkenness, violence, debauch, and murder. Yes, +and too frequently unnatural crimes at the tenderest age +add to this accumulation of horrors.</p> + +<p>The rich may shroud their vices in shadow and mystery, +and respect the sanctity of the domestic hearth, +but the most honest artisans, occupying nearly always a +single chamber with their family, are compelled, from +want of beds and space, to make their children sleep +together, sons and daughters, close to themselves, husbands +and wives.</p> + +<p>If we shudder at the fatal consequences of such necessity +almost inevitably imposed on poor, but honest +artisans, what must it be with workpeople depraved +by ignorance or misconduct? What fearful examples +do they not present to unhappy children, abandoned, or +rather excited, from their tenderest youth to every +brutal impulse and animal propensity? Have they even +the idea of what is right, decent, and modest? Must +they not be as strange to social laws as the savages of +the New World? Poor creatures! Corrupted at their +very birth, who in the prisons, whither their wanderings +and idleness often lead them, are already stigmatised by +the coarse and terrible metaphor, "Graines de Bagne" +(Seeds of the Gaol)! and the metaphor is a correct +one. This sinister prediction is almost invariably accomplished: +the Galleys or the Bridewell, each sex +has its destiny.</p> + +<p>We do not intend here to justify any profligacy. Let +us only compare the voluntary degradation of a female +carefully educated in the bosom of a wealthy family, +which has set her none but the most virtuous examples. +Let us compare, we say, this degradation with that of La +Louve, a creature, as it were, reared in vice, by vice, +and for vice, and to whom is pointed out, not without +reason, prostitution as a condition protected by the government! +This is true. There is a bureau where she +is registered, certificated, and signs her name. A bureau<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +where a mother has a right to authorise the prostitution +of her daughter; a husband the prostitution of his wife. +This place is termed the "Bureau des Mœurs" (the +Office of Manners). Must not society have a vice most +deeply rooted, incurable in the place of the laws which +regulate marriage, when power,—yes, power,—that +grave and moral abstraction, is obliged, not only to +tolerate, but to regulate, to legalise, to protect, to render +it less injurious and dangerous, this sale of body and +soul; which, multiplied by the unbridled appetites of +an immense population, acquires daily an almost incalculable +amount.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Goualeuse, repressing the emotion which this sad +confession of her companion had made in her, said to +her, timidly:</p> + +<p>"Listen to me without being angry."</p> + +<p>"Well, what have you to say? I think I have gossiped +enough; but it is no matter, as it is the last time +we shall talk together."</p> + +<p>"Are you happy, La Louve?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Does the life you lead make you happy?"</p> + +<p>"Here,—at St. Lazare?"</p> + +<p>"No; when you are at home and free."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am happy."</p> + +<p>"Always?"</p> + +<p>"Always."</p> + +<p>"You would not change your life for any other?"</p> + +<p>"For any other? What—what other life can there +be for me?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, La Louve," continued Fleur-de-Marie, after +a moment's silence, "don't you sometimes like to build +castles in the air? It is so amusing in prison."</p> + +<p>"Castles in the air! About what?"</p> + +<p>"About Martial."</p> + +<p>"About my man?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> I never built any."</p> + +<p>"Let me build one for you and Martial."</p> + +<p>"Bah! What's the use of it?"</p> + +<p>"To pass away time."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's have your castle in the air."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, only imagine that a lucky chance, such +as sometimes occurs, brings you in contact with a person +who says, 'Forsaken by your father and mother, your +infancy was surrounded by such bad examples that +you must be pitied, as much as blamed, for having +become—'"</p> + +<p>"Become what?"</p> + +<p>"What you and I have become," replied Goualeuse, +in a soft voice; and then she continued, "Suppose, +then, that this person were to say to you, 'You love +Martial; he loves you. Do you and he cease to lead an +improper life,—instead of being his mistress, become +his wife.'"</p> + +<p>La Louve shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he would have me for his wife?"</p> + +<p>"Except poaching, he has never committed any guilty +act, has he?"</p> + +<p>"No; he is a poacher in the river, as he was in the +woods, and he is right. Why, now, ain't fish like game, +for those to have who can catch them? Where do they +bear the proprietor's mark?"</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose that, having given up the dangerous +trade of marauding on the river, he desires to become +an honest man; suppose he inspires, by the frankness of +his good resolutions, so much confidence in an unknown +benefactor that he gives him a situation,—let us see, +our castle is in the air,—gives him a situation—say as +gamekeeper, for instance. Why, I should suppose that, +as he had been a poacher, nothing could better suit his +taste; it is the same occupation, but in the right way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>ma foi!</i> it would be still to live in the woods."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Only he would not have the situation but on condition +that he would marry you, and take you with him."</p> + +<p>"I go with Martial?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; why, you said you should be so happy to live +together in the depths of the forest. Shouldn't you +prefer, instead of the miserable hut of the poacher, in +which you would hide like guilty creatures, to have a +neat little cottage, which you would take care of as the +active and hard-working housekeeper?"</p> + +<p>"You are making game of me. Can this be possible?"</p> + +<p>"Who knows what may happen? But it's only a +castle in the air."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if it's only that, all very well!"</p> + +<p>"La Louve, I think that I already see you established +in your little home in the depths of the forest, with your +husband and two or three children. Children,—what +happiness! Are they not?"</p> + +<p>"The children of my man!" exclaimed La Louve, +with intense eagerness. "Ah, yes! They would be +dearly loved,—they would!"</p> + +<p>"How they would keep you company in your solitude! +And, then, when they grew up they would be able to +render you great service: the youngest would pick up +the dead branches for fuel; the eldest would go into the +grass of the forest to watch a cow or two, which they +would give you as a reward for your husband's activity, +for as he had been a poacher he would make a better +keeper."</p> + +<p>"To be sure; that's true enough. But really your +castles in the air are very amusing. Go on, Goualeuse."</p> + +<p>"They would be very much satisfied with your husband, +and you would have some allowances from your +master, a poultry-yard, a garden; and, in fact, you would +have to work very hard, La Louve, from morning till +night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if that were all, if I once had my good man near +me, I should not be afraid of work! I have stout arms."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you would have plenty to employ them, I will +answer for that. There is so much to do,—so much to +do! There is the stable to clean, the meals to get +ready, the clothes to mend; to-day is washing day, next +day there's the bread to bake, or perhaps the house to +clean from top to bottom; and, then, the other keepers +would say, 'There is no such manager as Martial's wife; +from the cellar to the garret, in her house, it is a pattern +of cleanliness, and the children are taken such care of! +But then she is so very industrious, Madame Martial.'"</p> + +<p>"Really though, La Goualeuse, is it true? I should +call myself Madame Martial," said La Louve, with a sort +of pride,—"Madame Martial!"</p> + +<p>"Which is better than being called La Louve,—is it +not?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardieu!</i> Why, there's no doubt but I should rather +be called by my man's name than the name of a wild +beast; but—bah!—bah! <i>louve</i> I was born, <i>louve</i> I shall +die!"</p> + +<p>"Who knows? Who can say? Not to shrink from +a life that is hard, but honest, will ensure success. So, +then, work would not frighten you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not! It is not a husband and four or +five brats to take care of that would give me any trouble!"</p> + +<p>"But then it would not be all work; there are +moments for rest. In the winter evenings, when the +children were put to bed, and your husband smoked his +pipe whilst he was cleaning his gun or caressing his dogs, +you would have a little leisure."</p> + +<p>"Leisure,—sit with my arms crossed before me! +<i>Ma foi!</i> No, I would rather mend the linen, by the side +of the fire in the evening. That is not a very hard job, +and in winter the days are so short."</p> + +<p>As Fleur-de-Marie proceeded, La Louve forgot more +and more of the present for the dreams of the future, as +deeply interested as La Goualeuse had been before her, +when Rodolph had talked to her of the rustic delights of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +the Bouqueval farm. La Louve did not attempt to conceal +the wild tastes with which her lover had inspired +her. Remembering the deep and wholesome impression +which she had experienced from the smiling picture of +Rodolph in relation to a country life, Fleur-de-Marie was +desirous of trying the same means of action on La Louve, +thinking, with reason, that, if her companion was so far +affected at the sketch of a rude, poor, and solitary life, +as to desire ardently such an existence, she merited +interest and pity. Delighted to see her companion listen +to her with attention, La Goualeuse continued, smiling:</p> + +<p>"And then you see, Madame Martial,—let me call +you so,—what does it matter—"</p> + +<p>"Quite the contrary; it flatters me." Then La Louve +shrugged her shoulders, and, smiling, also added, "What +folly to play at madame! Are we children? Well, it's +all the same; go on,—it's quite amusing. You said—"</p> + +<p>"I was saying, Madame Martial, that in speaking of +your life, the winter in the thickest of the woods, we +were only alluding to the worst of the seasons."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma foi!</i> No, that is not the worst. To hear the wind +whistle all night in the forest, and the wolves howl from +time to time far off, very far off,—I shouldn't tire of +that; provided I was at the fireside with my man and +my children, or even quite alone, if my man was going +his rounds. Ah, I am not afraid of a gun! If I had +my children to defend, I could do that,—the wolf would +guard her cubs!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can well believe you! You are very brave—you +are; but I am a coward. I prefer spring to the +winter, when the leaves are green, when the pretty wild +flowers bloom, and they smell so sweet, so sweet that the +air is quite scented; and then your children would roll +about so merrily in the fresh grass; and then the forest +would be so thick that you could hardly see your house +in the midst of the foliage,—I can fancy that I see it +now. In front of the house is a vine full of leaves, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +your husband has planted, and which shades the bank +of turf where he sleeps during the noonday heat, whilst +you are going backwards and forwards desiring the children +not to wake their father. I don't know whether +you have remarked it, but in the heat of summer about +midday there is in the woods as deep silence as at +midnight, you don't hear the leaves shake, nor the birds +sing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's true," replied La Louve, almost mechanically, +who became more and more forgetful of the +reality, and almost believed she saw before her the smiling +pictures which the poetical imagination of Fleur-de-Marie, +so instinctively amorous of the beauties of +nature, presented before her.</p> + +<p>Delighted at the deep attention which her companion +lent her, La Goualeuse continued, allowing herself to be +drawn on by the charm of the thoughts which she called +up:</p> + +<p>"There is one thing which I love almost as well as the +silence of the woods, and that is the noise of the heavy +drops of rain falling on the leaves; do you like that, too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I am very fond of a summer shower."</p> + +<p>"So am I; and when the trees, the moss, and the +grass, are all moistened, what a delightfully fresh odour +they give out! And then, how the sun, as it passes over +the trees, makes all the little drops of water glisten as +they hang from the leaves! Have you ever noticed that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I remember it now because you tell me of it. +Yet, how droll all this is! But, Goualeuse, you talk so +well that one seems to see everything,—to see everything +just as you talk; and then, I really do not know +how to explain it all. But now, what you say seems +good, it is quite pleasant,—just like the rain we were +talking of."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't suppose that we are the only creatures +who love a summer shower! The dear little birds, how +delighted they are! How they shake their feathers, whilst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +they warble so joyously; not more joyously, though, +than your children,—your children as free, and gay, +and light-hearted as they! And then, look! as the day +declines the youngest children run across the wood to +meet the elder, who brings back the two heifers from +pasture, for they have heard the tinkling of the bell in +the distance!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Goualeuse, and I think I see the smallest and +boldest, whom his brother has put astride on the back of +one of the cows."</p> + +<p>"And one would say that the poor animal knows +what burden she bears, she steps so carefully. But it is +supper-time; your eldest child, whilst he has been tending +the cows at pasture, has amused himself with +gathering for you a basket of beautiful strawberries, +which he has brought quite fresh under a thick covering +of wild violets."</p> + +<p>"Strawberries and violets,—ah, what a lovely smell +they have! But where the deuce did you find all these +ideas, La Goualeuse?"</p> + +<p>"In the woods, where the strawberries ripen and the +violets blow, you have only to look and gather them—But +let us go on with our housekeeping. It is night, and +you must milk your heifers, prepare your supper under +the shelter of the vine, for you hear your husband's dogs +bark, and then their master's voice, who, tired as he is, +comes home singing,—and who could not sing when on +a fine summer's eve with cheerful heart you return to the +house where a good wife and five children are waiting +for you?—eh, Madame Martial?"</p> + +<p>"True, true; one could not but sing," replied La +Louve, becoming more and more thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Unless one weeps for joy," continued Fleur-de-Marie, +herself much touched, "and such tears are as sweet as +songs. And then, when night has completely come, +what a pleasure to sit in the arbour and enjoy the calmness +of a fine evening, to breathe the sweet odour of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +forest, to hear the prattle of the children, to look at the +stars, then the heart is so full,—so full that it must +pour out its prayer; it must thank him to whom we are +indebted for the freshness of the evening, the sweet scent +of the woods, the gentle brightness of the starry sky! +After this thanksgiving or this prayer, we go to sleep +tranquilly till the next day, and then again thank our +Creator. And this poor, hard-working, but calm and +honest life, is the same each and every day."</p> + +<p>"Every day!" repeated La Louve, with her head +drooping on her chest, her look fixed, her breast oppressed, +"for it is true the good God is good to give us +wherewithal to live upon, and to make us happy with so +little."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me now," continued Fleur-de-Marie, gently,—"tell +me, ought not he to be blessed, after God, who +should give you this peaceable and laborious life, instead +of the wretched existence you lead in the mud of the +streets of Paris?"</p> + +<p>This word Paris suddenly recalled La Louve to reality.</p> + +<p>A strange phenomenon had taken place in the mind +of this creature.</p> + +<p>The simple painting of a humble and rude condition—the +mere recital by turns—lighted up by the soft +rays from the domestic hearth, gilded by some joyful +sunbeams, refreshed by the breeze of the great woods, +or perfumed by the odour of wild flowers,—this narrative +had made on La Louve a more profound or more +sensible impression than could an exhortation of the +most pious morality have effected.</p> + +<p>In truth, in proportion as Fleur-de-Marie spoke, La +Louve had longed to be, and meant to be, an indefatigable +manager, a worthy wife, an affectionate and devoted +mother.</p> + +<p>To inspire, even for an instant, a violent, immoral, +and degraded woman with a love of home, respect for +duty, a taste for labour, and gratitude towards her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +Creator; and that, by only promising her what God +gives to all, the sun, the sky, and the depths of the +forest,—what society owes to those who lack a roof and +a loaf,—was, indeed, a glorious triumph for Fleur-de-Marie! +Could the most severe moralist—the most +overpowering preacher—have obtained more in threatening, +in their monotonous and menacing orations, all +human vengeances—all divine thunders?</p> + +<p>The painful anger with which La Louve was possessed +when she returned to the reality, after having allowed +herself to be charmed by the new and wholesome reverie +in which, for the first time, Fleur-de-Marie had plunged +her, proved the influence of her words on her unfortunate +companion. The more bitter were La Louve's +regrets when she fell back from this consoling delusion +to the horrors of her real position, the greater was La +Goualeuse's triumph. After a moment's silence and +reflection, La Louve raised her head suddenly, passed +her hand over her brow, and rose threatening and angry.</p> + +<p>"See, see! I had reason to mistrust you, and to +desire not to listen to you, because it would turn to ill +for me! Why did you talk thus to me? Why make a +jest of me? Why mock me? And because I have been +so weak as to say to you that I should like to live in +the depths of a forest with my man. Who are you, +then, that you should make a fool of me in this way? +You, miserable girl, don't know what you have done! +Now, in spite of myself, I shall always be thinking of +this forest, the house, and—and—the children—and +all that happiness which I shall never have—never—never! +And if I cannot forget what you have told me, +why, my life will be one eternal punishment,—a hell,—and +that by your fault! Yes, by your fault!"</p> + +<p>"So much the better! Oh, so much the better!" said +Fleur-de-Marie.</p> + +<p>"You say, so much the better!" exclaimed La Louve, +with her eyes glaring.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes,—so much the better! For if your present +miserable life appears to you a hell, you will prefer that +of which I have spoken to you."</p> + +<p>"What is the use of preferring it, since it is not destined +for me? What is the use of regretting that I +walk the streets, since I shall die in the streets?" exclaimed +La Louve, more and more irritated, and taking +in her powerful grasp the small hand of Fleur-de-Marie. +"Answer—answer! Why do you try to make me +desire that which I cannot have."</p> + +<p>"To desire an honest and industrious life is to be +worthy of that life, as I have already told you," replied +Fleur-de-Marie, without attempting to disengage her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, and what then? Suppose I am worthy, what +does that prove? How much the better off will that +make me?"</p> + +<p>"To see realised what you consider as a dream," +answered Fleur-de-Marie, in a tone so serious and full of +conviction that La Louve, again under control, let go +La Goualeuse's hand, and gazed at her in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, La Louve," said Fleur-de-Marie, in a +voice full of feeling; "do you think me so wicked as to +excite such ideas and hopes in you, if I were not sure +that, whilst I made you blush at your present condition, +I gave you the means to quit it?"</p> + +<p>"You! You can do this?"</p> + +<p>"I! No; but some one who is good, and great, and +powerful."</p> + +<p>"Great and powerful?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, La Louve. Three months ago I was, like +you, a lost, an abandoned creature. One day he of whom +I speak to you with tears of gratitude,"—and Fleur-de-Marie +wiped her eyes,—"one day he came to me, and +he was not afraid, abased and despised as I was, to say +comforting words to me, the first I had ever heard. I +told him my sufferings, my miseries, my shame; I concealed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +nothing from him, just as you have related to me +all your past life, La Louve. After having listened to +me with kindness, he did not blame, but pitied me; he +did not even reproach me with my disgraceful position, +but talked to me of the calm and pure life which was +found in the country."</p> + +<p>"As you did just now?"</p> + +<p>"Then my situation appeared to me the more frightful, +in proportion as the future he held out to me seemed +more beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Like me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and so I said as you did,—What use, alas! is +it to make me fancy this paradise,—me, who am +chained to hell? But I was wrong to despair; for he +of whom I speak is so good, so just, that he is incapable +of making a false hope shine in the eyes of a poor creature +who asked no one for pity, happiness, or hope."</p> + +<p>"And what did he do for you?"</p> + +<p>"He treated me like a sick child. I was, like you, +immersed in a corrupted air, and he sent me to breathe +a wholesome and reviving atmosphere. I was also living +amongst hideous and criminal beings, and he confided +me to persons as good as himself, who have purified my +soul and elevated my mind; for he communicates to all +those who love and respect him a spark of his own refined +intelligence. Yes, if my words move you, La +Louve, if my tears make your tears flow, it is that his +mind and thought inspire me. If I speak to you of the +happier future which you will obtain by repentance, it is +because I can promise you this future in his name, although, +at this moment, he is ignorant of the engagement +I make. In fact, I say to you, Hope! because he +always listens to the voice of those who desire to become +better; for God sent him on earth to make people believe +in his providence!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;"><a name="image279" id="image279"></a> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt="La Goualeuse in the prison. +Original Etching by Adrian Marcel." title="La Goualeuse in the prison." /> +<span class="caption"><i>La Goualeuse in the prison.</i><br /> +<span class="artist">Original Etching by Adrian Marcel.</span></span> +</div> + +<p>As she spoke, Fleur-de-Marie's countenance became +radiant, and her pale cheeks suffused with a delicate carnation;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +her beautiful eyes sparkled, and she appeared +so touchingly beautiful that La Louve gazed on her +with respectful admiration, and said:</p> + +<p>"Where am I? Do I dream? Who are you, then? +Oh, I was right when I said you were not one of us! +But, then, you talk so well,—you, who can do so much, +you, who know such powerful people, how is it that you +are here, a prisoner with us?"</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie was about to reply, when Madame +Armand came up and interrupted her, to conduct her +to Madame d'Harville. La Louve remained overwhelmed +with surprise, and the inspectress said to +her:</p> + +<p>"I see, with pleasure, that the presence of La Goualeuse +in the prison has brought good fortune to you and +your companions. I know you have made a subscription +for poor Mont Saint-Jean; that is kind and charitable, +La Louve, and will be of service to you. I was +sure that you were better than you allowed yourself to +appear. In recompense for this kind action, I think I +can promise you that the term of your imprisonment +shall be shortened by several days."</p> + +<p>Madame Armand then walked away, followed by +Fleur-de-Marie.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>We must not be astonished at the almost eloquent language +of Fleur-de-Marie, when we remember that her +mind, so wonderfully gifted, had rapidly developed itself, +thanks to the education and instruction she had received +at Bouqueval farm.</p> + +<p>The young girl was, indeed, strong in her experience.</p> + +<p>The sentiments she had awakened in the heart of La +Louve had been awakened in her own heart by Rodolph, +and under almost similar circumstances.</p> + +<p>Believing that she detected some good instincts in her +companion, she had endeavoured to lure her back to +honesty, by proving to her (according to Rodolph's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +theory, applied to the farm at Bouqueval) that it was +her interest to become honest, by pointing out to her +restitution to the paths of rectitude in smiling and +attractive colours.</p> + +<p>And here let us repeat that, in our opinion, an incomplete +as well as stupid and inefficacious mode is employed +to inspire the poor and ignorant classes with a +hatred of evil and a love of good.</p> + +<p>In order to turn them away from the bad path, they +are incessantly threatened with divine and human vengeance; +incessantly a sinister clank is sounded in their +ears: prison-keep, fetters, handcuffs; and, in the distance, +in dark shadow, at the extreme horizon of crime, +they have their attention directed to the executioner's +axe glittering amidst the glare of everlasting flames. +We observe that the intimidation is constant, fearful, +and appalling. To him who does ill, imprisonment, infamy, +punishment. This is just. But to him who does +well does society award noble gifts, glorious distinctions? +No.</p> + +<p>Does society encourage resignation, order, probity, in +that immense mass of artisans who are for ever doomed +to toil and privation, and almost always to profound +misery, by benevolent rewards? No.</p> + +<p>Is the scaffold which the criminal ascends a protection +for the man of integrity? No.</p> + +<p>Strange and fatal symbol! Justice is represented as +blind, bearing in one hand a sword to punish, and in the +other scales in which she weighs accusation and defence. +This is not the image of Justice. This is the image of +Law, or, rather, of the man who condemns or acquits +according to his conscience. Justice should hold in one +hand a sword, and in the other a crown,—one to strike +the wicked, and the other to recompense the good. The +people would then see that, if there is a terrible punishment +for evil, there is a brilliant recompense for good; +whilst as it is, in their plain and simple sense, the people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +seek in vain for the contrary side of tribunals, gaols, +galleys, and scaffolds. The people see plainly a criminal +justice, consisting of upright, inflexible, enlightened men, +always employed in searching out, detecting, and punishing +the evil-doers. They do not see the virtuous +justice, consisting of upright, inflexible, and enlightened +men, always searching out and rewarding the honest +man. All says to him, Tremble! Nothing says to him, +Hope! All threatens him; nothing consoles him!</p> + +<p>The state annually expends many millions for the +sterile punishment of crimes. With this enormous sum +it keeps prisoners and gaolers, galley-slaves and galley-sergeants, +scaffolds and executioners. This is necessary? +Agreed. But how much does the state disburse +for the rewards (so salutary, so fruitful) for honest +men? Nothing. And this is not all, as we shall demonstrate +when the course of this recital shall conduct us +to the state prison; how many artisans of irreproachable +honesty would attain the summit of their wishes if they +were assured of enjoying one day the bodily comforts of +prisoners, always certain of good food, good bed, and +good shelter? And yet, in the name of their dignity, +as honest men, long and painfully tried, have they not +a right to claim the same care and comforts as criminals,—such, +for instance, as Morel, the lapidary, who +had toiled for twenty years, industrious, honest, and +resigned, in the midst of bitter misery and sore temptations? +Do not such men deserve sufficiently well of +society, that society should try and find them out, and +if not recompense them, for the honour of humanity, at +least support them in the painful and difficult path which +they tread so courageously? Is the man of worth so +modest that he finds greater security than the thief or +assassin? and are not these always detected by criminal +justice? Alas, it is a utopia, but it is consoling!</p> + +<p>Suppose, for the moment, a society were so organised +that it would hold an assizes of virtue, as we have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +assizes of crime,—a public ministry pointing out noble +actions, disclosing them to the view of all, as we now +denounce crimes to the avenging power of the laws. +We will give two instances—two justices—and let +our readers say which is most fruitful in instruction, in +consequences, in positive results. One man has killed +another, for the purpose of robbing him; at break of +day they stealthily erect the guillotine in an obscure +corner of Paris and cut off the assassin's head before +the dregs of the populace, which laughs at the judge, +the sufferer, and the executioner. This is the last resort +of society. This is the chastisement she bestows on +the greatest crime which can be committed against her. +This is the most terrible, the most wholesome warning +she can give to her population,—the only one, for there +is no counterpoise to this keen axe, dripping with blood; +no, society has no spectacle, mild and benevolent, to +oppose to this funereal scene.</p> + +<p>Let us go on with our utopia. Would it not be otherwise +if almost every day the people had before their +eyes some illustrious virtues greatly glorified and substantially +rewarded by the state? Would it not be to +encourage good continually, if we often saw an august, +imposing, and venerable tribunal summon before it, in +presence of an immense multitude, a poor and honest +artisan, whose long, intelligent, and enduring life should +be described, whilst he was thus addressed:</p> + +<p>"For twenty years you have manfully struggled +against misfortune, your family has been brought up +by you in the principles of honour and rectitude, your +superior virtues have greatly distinguished you,—you +merit praise and recompense. Society, always vigilant, +just, and all-powerful, never leaves in oblivion either +good or evil. Every man is recompensed according to +his works. The state assures to you a pension sufficient +for your wants. Obtaining this deserved mark of public +notice, you will end in leisure and ease a life which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +an example to all; and thus are and will be exalted +those who, like yourself, shall have struggled for many +years with an admirable persistence in good, and given +proof of rare and grand moral qualities. Your example +will encourage a great many to imitate you; hope will +lighten the painful burden which their destiny imposes +on them for so many years of their life. Animated by +a salutary emulation, they will energetically struggle to +accomplish the most arduous duties, in order that one +day they may be distinguished from the rest, and rewarded +as you are."</p> + +<p>We ask, which of the two sights—the beheaded +assassin, or the good man rewarded—would act on the +million with more salutary and more fruitful effect?</p> + +<p>No doubt many delicate minds will be indignant at +the bare thought of these ignoble substantial rewards +awarded to the most ethereal thing in the world,—Virtue! +They will find all sorts of arguments, more or +less philosophical, platonic, theological, and especially +economic, against such a proposition; such as, "Virtue +is its own reward;" "Virtue is a priceless gem;" "The +satisfaction of the conscience is the noblest of recompenses;" +and, finally, this triumphant and unanswerable +objection, "The eternal happiness which awaits the just +in another life ought to be sufficient to encourage mankind +to do well." To this we reply that society, in +order to intimidate and punish the guilty, does not +appear to us to rely entirely and exclusively on the +divine vengeance, which they tell us will visit them in +another world. Society anticipates the last judgment +by human judgments. Awaiting the inexorable hour +of the archangels in armour, with sounding trumpets +and fiery swords, society modestly comforts herself +with—<i>gens-d'armes</i>.</p> + +<p>We repeat, to terrify the wicked, we materialise, or +rather we reduce to human, perceptible, and visible +proportions, the anticipated effects of divine wrath.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +Why should we not do the same with the divine +rewards to worthy and virtuous people?</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>But let us leave these mad, absurd, stupid, impracticable +utopianisms, like real utopianisms, as they are. +Society is as well as it is. Ask those merry souls, who, +with uncertain step, stupid look, and noisy laugh, have +just quitted the gay banquet, if it is not.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3> + +<h5>THE PROTECTRESS.</h5> + + +<p>The inspectress soon entered with Goualeuse into the +little room where Clémence was staying. The pale cheek +of the young girl was still slightly coloured in consequence +of her conversation with La Louve.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Marquise, pleased with the excellent +character I have given of you," said Madame Armand +to Fleur-de-Marie, "has desired to see you, and will, +perhaps, be so good as to have you released from here +before the expiration of your time."</p> + +<p>"I thank you, madame," replied Fleur-de-Marie, +timidly, to Madame Armand, who left her alone with +the marchioness.</p> + +<p>The latter, struck by the candid expression of her +protégée's features, and by her carriage, so full of grace +and modesty, could not help remembering that La +Goualeuse had pronounced the name of Rodolph in her +sleep, and that the inspectress believed the youthful +prisoner to be a prey to deep and hidden love. Although +perfectly convinced that it could not be a question as to +the Grand Duke Rodolph, Clémence acknowledged to +herself that, with regard to beauty, La Goualeuse was +worthy of a prince's love.</p> + +<p>At the sight of her protectress, whose physiognomy, +as we have said, displayed excessive goodness, Fleur-de-Marie +felt herself sympathetically attracted towards +her.</p> + +<p>"My girl," said Clémence to her, "whilst commending<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +the gentleness of your disposition and the discreetness +of your behaviour, Madame Armand complains of +your want of confidence in her."</p> + +<p>Fleur-de-Marie bowed her look, but did not reply.</p> + +<p>"The peasant's dress in which you were clad when +you were apprehended, your silence on the subject of +the place where you resided before you were brought +here, prove that you conceal certain particulars from us."</p> + +<p>"Madame—"</p> + +<p>"I have no right to your confidence, my poor child, +nor would I ask you any question that would distress +you; but, as I am assured that if I request your discharge +from prison it will be accorded to me, before I +do so I should wish to talk to you of your own plans, +your resources for the future. Once free, what do you +propose to do? If, as I doubt not, you decide on following +the good path you have already entered upon, have +confidence in me, and I will put you in the way of +gaining an honest subsistence."</p> + +<p>La Goualeuse was moved to tears at the interest +which Madame d'Harville evinced for her. After a +moment's hesitation, she replied:</p> + +<p>"You are very good, madame, to show so much +benevolence towards me,—so generous, that I ought, +perhaps, to break the silence which I have hitherto kept +on the past, to which I was forced by an oath—"</p> + +<p>"An oath?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, I have sworn to be secret to justice, +and the persons employed in this prison, as to the +series of events by which I was brought hither. Yet, +madame, if you will make me a promise—"</p> + +<p>"Of what nature?"</p> + +<p>"To keep my secret. I may, thanks to you, madame, +without breaking my oath, comfort most worthy persons +who, no doubt, are excessively uneasy on my account."</p> + +<p>"Rely on my discretion. I will only say what you +authorise me to disclose."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, thanks, madame! I was so fearful that my +silence towards my benefactors would appear like +ingratitude!"</p> + +<p>The gentle accents of Fleur-de-Marie, and her well-selected +phrases, struck Madame d'Harville with fresh +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I will not conceal from you," said she, "that your +demeanour, your language, all surprise me in a remarkable +degree. How could you, with an education which +appears polished,—how could you—"</p> + +<p>"Fall so low, you would say, madame?" said Goualeuse, +with bitterness. "Alas! It is but a very short +time that I have received this education. I owe this +benefit to a generous protector, who, like you, madame, +without knowing me, without even having the favourable +recommendation which you have received in my favour, +took pity upon me—"</p> + +<p>"And who is this protector?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, madame."</p> + +<p>"You do not know?"</p> + +<p>"He only makes himself known, they tell me, by his +inexhaustible goodness. Thanks be to Heaven, he found +me in his path!"</p> + +<p>"And when did you first meet?"</p> + +<p>"One night,—in the Cité, madame," said Goualeuse, +lowering her eyes, "a man was going to beat me; this +unknown benefactor defended me courageously; this was +my first meeting with him."</p> + +<p>"Then he was one of the people?"</p> + +<p>"The first time I saw him he had the dress and +language; but afterwards—"</p> + +<p>"Afterwards?"</p> + +<p>"The way in which he spoke to me, the profound +respect with which he was treated by the persons to +whom he confided me, all proved to me that he had +only assumed the exterior disguise of one of the men +who are seen about the Cité."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But with what motive?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"And do you know the name of this mysterious +protector?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, madame," said La Goualeuse, with excitement; +"thank Heaven! For I can incessantly bless and +adore that name. My preserver is called M. Rodolph, +madame."</p> + +<p>Clémence blushed deeply.</p> + +<p>"And has he no other name," she asked, quickly, +of Fleur-de-Marie.</p> + +<p>"I know no other, madame. In the farm, where he +sent me, he was only known as M. Rodolph."</p> + +<p>"And his age?"</p> + +<p>"Still young, madame."</p> + +<p>"And handsome?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! Handsome,—noble as his own heart."</p> + +<p>The grateful and impassioned accent with which +Fleur-de-Marie uttered these words caused a deeply +painful sensation in Madame d'Harville's bosom. An +unconquerable and inexplicable presentiment told her +that it was indeed the prince. "The remarks of the +inspectress were just," thought Clémence. "Goualeuse +loves Rodolph; that was the name which she pronounced +in her sleep. Under what strange circumstance had the +prince and this unfortunate girl met? Why did Rodolph +go disguised into the Cité?"</p> + +<p>The marquise could not resolve these questions. +She only remembered what Sarah had wickedly and +mendaciously told her as to the pretended eccentricities +of Rodolph. Was it not, in fact, strange that he +should have extricated from the dregs of society a girl +of such excessive loveliness, and evidently so intelligent +and sensible?</p> + +<p>Clémence had noble qualities, but she was a woman, +and deeply loved Rodolph, although she had resolved to +bury that secret in her heart's very core.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without reflecting that this was unquestionably but +one of those generous actions which the prince was +accustomed to do by stealth, without considering that +she was, perchance, confounding with love a sentiment +that was but excess of gratitude, without considering +that, even if this feeling were more tender, Rodolph +must be ignorant of it, the marchioness, in the first +moment of bitterness and injustice, could not help looking +on Goualeuse as her rival. Her pride revolted when +she believed she was suffering, in spite of herself, with +such a humiliating rivalry; and she replied, in a tone +so harsh as to contrast cruelly with the affectionate +kindness of her first words:</p> + +<p>"And how is it, then, mademoiselle, that your protector +leaves you in prison? How comes it that you +are here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, madame," said Fleur-de-Marie, struck at this +sudden change of tone, "have I done anything to +displease you?"</p> + +<p>"In what could you have displeased me?" asked +Madame d'Harville, haughtily.</p> + +<p>"It appeared to me just now that you spoke to me so +kindly, madame."</p> + +<p>"Really, mademoiselle, is it necessary that I should +weigh every word I utter? Since I take an interest +in you, I have, I think, a right to ask you certain +questions!"</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Clémence uttered these words, than she +regretted their severity; first from a praiseworthy return +of generosity, and then because she thought by being +harsh with her rival she might not learn any more of +what she was so anxious to know. In fact, Goualeuse's +countenance, just now so open and confiding, became +suddenly alarmed. Like the sensitive plant, which, on +the first touch, curls up its leaves and withdraws within +itself, the heart of Fleur-de-Marie became painfully contracted. +Clémence replied, gently, in order that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +might not awaken her protégée's suspicions by too +sudden a return to a milder tone:</p> + +<p>"Really I must repeat that I cannot understand why, +having so much to praise your benefactor for, you are +left here a prisoner. How is it that, after having returned +with all sincerity to the paths of rectitude, you could +have been apprehended, at night, in a forbidden place? +All this, I confess to you, appears to me very extraordinary. +You speak of an oath, which has bound you +to silence; but this very oath is so strange!"</p> + +<p>"I have spoken the truth, madame—"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of that; it is only to see and hear you to +be convinced that you are incapable of falsehood; but +what is so incomprehensible in your situation makes me +the more curious and impatient to have it cleared up; +and to this alone must you attribute the abruptness of +my language just now. I was wrong, I feel I was, for, +although I have no claim to your confidence beyond my +anxious desire to be of service to you, yet you have +offered to disclose to me what you have not yet told to +any person; and I can assure you, my poor girl, that +this proof of your confidence in the interest I feel for +you touches me very nearly. I promise you to keep +your secret most scrupulously, if you confide it to me, +and I will do everything in my power to effect what +you may wish to have done."</p> + +<p>Thanks to this skilful patching up (the phrase will be +excused, we trust), Madame d'Harville regained La +Goualeuse's confidence, which had been for a moment +repressed. Fleur-de-Marie, in her candour, reproached +herself for having wrongly interpreted the words which +had wounded her.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, madame," she said to Clémence; "I +was, no doubt, wrong not to tell you at once what you +desired to know, but you asked me for the name of my +preserver, and, in spite of myself, I could not resist the +pleasure of speaking of him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing could be more praiseworthy, and it proves +how truly grateful you are to him. Tell me how it was +that you left the worthy people with whom you were, no +doubt, placed by M. Rodolph? Is it to this event that +the oath you were compelled to take, refers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame; but, thanks to you, I think I may +still keep my word faithfully, and, at the same time, +inform my benefactors as to my disappearance."</p> + +<p>"Now, then, my poor girl, I am all attention to you."</p> + +<p>"It is three months nearly since M. Rodolph placed +me at a farm, which is situated four or five leagues from +Paris—"</p> + +<p>"Did M. Rodolph take you there himself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, and confided me to the charge of a +worthy lady, as good as she was venerable; and I loved +her like my mother. She and the curé of the village, at +the request of M. Rodolph, took charge of my education."</p> + +<p>"And M.—Rodolph,—did he often come to the +farm?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame, he only came three times during the +whole time I was there."</p> + +<p>Clémence's heart throbbed with joy.</p> + +<p>"And when he came to see you that made you very +happy, did it not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, madame! It was more than happiness to +me; it was a feeling mingled with gratitude, respect, +adoration, and even a degree of fear."</p> + +<p>"Of fear?"</p> + +<p>"Between him and me, between him and others, the +distance is so great!"</p> + +<p>"But what, then, was his rank?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know that he had any rank, madame."</p> + +<p>"Yet you allude to the distance which exists between +him and others."</p> + +<p>"Oh, madame, what places him above all the rest of +the world is the elevation of his character, his inexhaustible +generosity towards those who suffer, the enthusiasm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +which he inspires in every one. The wicked, even, +cannot hear his name without trembling, and respect +as much as they dread him! But forgive me, madame, +for still speaking of him. I ought to be silent, for I +seek to give you an adequate idea of him who ought to +be adored in silence. I might as well try to express by +words the goodness of Heaven!"</p> + +<p>"This comparison—"</p> + +<p>"Is, perhaps, sacrilegious, madame; but will it offend +the good God to compare to him one who has given me +the consciousness of good and evil, one who has snatched +me from the abyss, one, in fact, to whom I owe a new +existence?"</p> + +<p>"I do not blame you, my child; I can understand all +your noble exaggerations. But how was it that you +abandoned this farm, where you must have been so +happy?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, not voluntarily, madame!"</p> + +<p>"Who, then, forced you away?"</p> + +<p>"One evening, some days since," said Fleur-de-Marie, +trembling even as she spoke, "I was going towards the +parsonage-house in the village, when a wicked woman, +who had used me very cruelly during my infancy, and a +man, her accomplice, who had concealed themselves in +a ravine, threw themselves upon me, and, after having +gagged me, carried me off in a hackney-coach."</p> + +<p>"For what purpose?"</p> + +<p>"I know not, madame. My ravishers, as I think, +were acting in conformity to orders from some powerful +personages."</p> + +<p>"What followed this?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely was the hackney-coach in motion, than the +wicked creature, who is called La Chouette, exclaimed, +'I have some vitriol here, and I'll rub La Goualeuse's +face, to disfigure her with it!'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, horrible! Unhappy girl! And who has saved +you from this danger?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The woman's confederate, a blind man called the +Schoolmaster."</p> + +<p>"And he defended you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, this and another time also. On this +occasion there was a struggle between him and La +Chouette: exerting his strength, the Schoolmaster compelled +her to throw out of window the bottle which held +the vitriol. This was the first service he rendered me, +after having, however, aided in carrying me off. The +night was excessively dark. At the end of an hour and +a half the coach stopped, as I think, on the highroad +which traverses the Plain St. Denis, and here was a +man on horseback, evidently awaiting us. 'What!' +said he, 'have you got her at last?' 'Yes, we've got +her,' answered La Chouette, who was furious because +she had been hindered from disfiguring me. 'If you +wish to get rid of the little baggage at once, it will +be a good plan to stretch her on the ground, and let +the coach wheels pass over her skull. It will appear as +if she had been accidentally killed.'"</p> + +<p>"You make me shudder."</p> + +<p>"Alas, madame, La Chouette was quite capable of +doing what she said! Fortunately, the man on horseback +replied that he would not have any harm done to +me, and all he wanted was to have me confined somewhere +for two months in a place whence I could neither +go out nor be allowed to write to any one. Then La +Chouette proposed to take me to a man's called Bras +Rouge, who keeps a tavern in the Champs Elysées. In +this tavern there are several subterranean chambers, and +one of these, La Chouette said, would serve me for a +prison. The man on horseback agreed to this proposition; +and he promised me that, after remaining two +months at Bras Rouge's, I should be properly taken care +of, and not be sorry for having quitted the farm at +Bouqueval."</p> + +<p>"What a strange mystery!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This man gave money to La Chouette, and promised +her more when she should bring me from Bras Rouge's, +and then galloped away. Our hackney-coach continued +its way on to Paris; and a short time before we reached +the barrier the Schoolmaster said to La Chouette, 'You +want to shut Goualeuse up in one of Bras Rouge's cellars, +when you know very well that, being so close to +the river's side, these cellars are always under water in +the winter! Do you wish to drown her?' 'Yes,' replied +La Chouette."</p> + +<p>"Poor girl! What had you ever done to this horrid +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, madame; and from my very infancy she +had always been so full of hatred towards me. The +Schoolmaster replied, 'I won't have Goualeuse drowned! +She sha'n't go to Bras Rouge's!' La Chouette was as +astonished as I was, madame, to hear this man defend +me thus, and she flew into a violent rage, and swore she +would take me to Bras Rouge's in spite of the Schoolmaster. +'I defy you!' said he, 'for I have got Goualeuse +by the arm, and I will not let go my hold of her; +and, if you come near her, I'll strangle you!' 'What +do you mean, then, to do with her,' cried La Chouette, +'since she must be concealed somewhere for two months, +so that no one may know where she is?' 'There's a +way,' said the Schoolmaster. 'We are going by the +Champs Elysées; we will stop the coach a little way off +the guard-house, and you shall go to Bras Rouge's tavern. +It is midnight, and you will be sure to find him; +bring him here, and he shall lead La Goualeuse to the +guard-house, declaring that she is a <i>fille de la Cité</i>, whom +he has found loitering about his house. As girls are +sentenced to three months' imprisonment if found in the +Champs Elysées, and as La Goualeuse is still on the +police books, she will be apprehended and sent to St. +Lazare, where she will be better taken care of and concealed +than in Bras Rouge's cellar.' 'But,' answered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +La Chouette, 'Goualeuse will not allow herself to be +arrested even at the <i>corps-de-garde</i>. She will declare +that we have carried her off, and give information +against us; and, supposing even that she goes to prison, +she will write to her protectors, and all will be discovered.' +'No, she will go to prison willingly,' answered +the Schoolmaster; 'and she shall take an oath not to +give any information against any person as long as she +is in St. Lazare, nor afterwards, either. This is a debt +she owes me, for I prevented you from disfiguring her, +La Chouette, and saved her from being drowned at Bras +Rouge's; but if, after having sworn not to speak, she +dares to do so, we will attack the farm at Bouqueval +with fire and blood!' Then, addressing me, the Schoolmaster +added,'Decide, then: take the oath I demand of +you, and you shall get off for three months in prison; +if not, I abandon you to La Chouette, who will take +you to Bras Rouge's, where you will be drowned, +and we will set Bouqueval farm on fire. So, come, +decide. I know, if you take the oath, you will keep +it.'"</p> + +<p>"And you did swear?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, yes, madame! I was so fearful they would do +my protectors at the farm an injury, and then I so much +dreaded being drowned by La Chouette in a cellar, it +seemed so frightful to me; another death would have +seemed to me less horrid, and, perhaps, I should not +have tried to escape it."</p> + +<p>"What a dreadful idea at your age!" said Madame +d'Harville, looking at La Goualeuse with surprise. +"When you have left this place, and have been restored +to your benefactors, shall you not be very happy? Has +not your repentance effaced the past?"</p> + +<p>"Can the past ever be effaced? Can the past ever be +forgotten? Can repentance kill memory, madame?" +exclaimed Fleur-de-Marie, in a tone so despairing that +Clémence shuddered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But all faults are retrieved, unhappy girl!"</p> + +<p>"And the remembrance of stain, madame, does not +that become more and more terrible in proportion as the +soul becomes purer, in proportion as the mind becomes +more elevated? Alas, the higher we ascend, the deeper +appears the abyss which we have quitted!"</p> + +<p>"Then you renounce all hope of restoration—of +pardon?"</p> + +<p>"On the part of others—no, madame, your kindness +proves to me that remorse will find indulgence."</p> + +<p>"But you will be pitiless towards yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Others, madame, may not know, pardon, or forget +what I have been, but I shall never forget it!"</p> + +<p>"And do you sometimes desire to die?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes!" said Goualeuse, smiling bitterly. Then, +after a moment's silence, she added, "Sometimes,—yes, +madame."</p> + +<p>"Still you were afraid of being disfigured by that +horrid woman; and so you wish to preserve your beauty, +my poor little girl. That proves that life has still some +attraction for you; so courage! Courage!"</p> + +<p>"It is, perhaps, weakness to think of it, but if I were +handsome, as you say, madame, I should like to die +handsome, pronouncing the name of my benefactor."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville's eyes filled with tears. Fleur-de-Marie +had said these last words with so much simplicity; +her angelic, pale, depressed features, her melancholy +smile, were all so much in accord with her words, that it +was impossible to doubt the reality of her sad desire. +Madame d'Harville was endued with too much delicacy +not to feel how miserable, how fatal, was this thought of +La Goualeuse: "I shall never forget what I have been!"—the +fixed, permanent, incessant idea which controlled +and tortured Fleur-de-Marie's life. Clémence, ashamed +at having for an instant misconstrued the ever disinterested +generosity of the prince, regretted also that she +had for a moment allowed herself to be actuated by any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +feeling of absurd jealousy against La Goualeuse, who, +with such pure excitement, expressed her gratitude +towards her protector. It was strange that the admiration +which this poor prisoner felt so deeply towards +Rodolph perhaps increased the profound love which +Clémence must for ever conceal from him. She said, to +drive away these thoughts:</p> + +<p>"I trust that, for the future, you will be less severe +towards yourself. But let us talk of this oath, for now +I can explain your silence. You will not denounce these +wretches?"</p> + +<p>"Although the Schoolmaster shared in my carrying +off, yet he twice defended me, and I would not be +ungrateful towards him."</p> + +<p>"Then you lent yourself to the plans of these +monsters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame, I was so frightened! The Chouette +went to seek for Bras Rouge, who conducted me to the +guard-house, saying he had found me roving near his +cabaret. I did not deny it, and so they took me into +custody and brought me here."</p> + +<p>"But your friends at the farm must be in the utmost +anxiety about you!"</p> + +<p>"Alas, madame, in my great alarm, I did not reflect +that my oath would prevent me from assuring them of +my safety. Now that makes me wretched! But I think +(and hope you think so, too) that, without breaking my +word, I may beg of you to write to Madame Georges at +the farm of Bouqueval, and assure her that she need have +no fears for me, without informing her where I am; for +I have promised to be silent."</p> + +<p>"My child, these precautions will be useless if, at my +recommendation, you are pardoned. To-morrow you +will return to the farm without having betrayed your +oath by that; and you may consult your friends hereafter +to know how far you are bound by a promise which +was extorted from you by a threat."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You believe then, madame, that, thanks to your +kindness, I may hope to leave here very soon?"</p> + +<p>"You deserve my interest so much that I am sure I +shall succeed, and I have no doubt but that the day after +to-morrow you may rely on going in person to your +benefactors."</p> + +<p>"So soon! Madame, how have I deserved so much +goodness on your part? How can I ever repay your +kindness?"</p> + +<p>"By continuing to behave as you have done. I only +regret that I cannot do anything towards your future +existence; that is a pleasure which your friends have +reserved for themselves."</p> + +<p>At this moment Madame Armand entered abruptly, +and with a troubled air.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Marquise," she said, addressing Clémence +with hesitation, "I am deeply pained with a message I +have to convey to you."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, madame?"</p> + +<p>"The Duke de Lucenay is below, just come from your +house, madame."</p> + +<p>"La, how you frighten me! What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, madame; but M. de Lucenay +has, he told me, some very distressing information +to communicate to you. He learnt from the duchess, +his lady, that you were here, and has come in great +haste."</p> + +<p>"Distressing information!" said Madame d'Harville +to herself; then she suddenly shrieked out, in agonised +accents, "My daughter, my daughter, my daughter, +perhaps! Oh, speak, madame!"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, your ladyship."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for mercy's sake—for mercy's sake, take me +to M. de Lucenay!" cried Madame d'Harville, rushing +out with a bewildered air, followed by Madame +Armand.</p> + +<p>"Poor mother! She fears for her child!" said La<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +Goualeuse, following Clémence with her eyes. "Oh, +no, it is impossible! At the very moment when +she was so benevolent and kind to me such a blow +could not strike her! No, no; once again I say it +is impossible!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3> + +<h5>THE FORCED FRIENDSHIP.</h5> + + +<p>We shall now conduct the reader to the house in the +Rue du Temple, about three o'clock on the day in which +M. d'Harville terminated his existence. At the time +mentioned, the conscientious and indefatigable M. Pipelet +sat alone in his lodge, occupied in repairing the boot +which had, more than once, fallen from his hand during +Cabrion's last attack; the physiognomy of the delicate-minded +porter was dejected, and exhibited a more than +usually melancholy air.</p> + +<p>All at once a loud and shrill voice was heard calling +from the upper part of the house, exclaiming, in tones +which reëchoed down the staircase:</p> + +<p>"M. Pipelet! M. Pipelet! Make haste! Come up as +fast as you can! Madame Pipelet is taken very ill!"</p> + +<p>"God bless me!" cried Alfred, rising from his stool. +"Anastasie ill!" But, quickly resuming his seat, he +said to himself, "What a simpleton I must be to believe +such a thing! My wife has been gone out more than an +hour! Ah, but may she not have returned without my +observing it? Certainly, such a mode of proceeding +would be somewhat irregular, but I am not the less +bound to admit that it is possible."</p> + +<p>"M. Pipelet!" called out the up-stairs voice again. +"Pray come as quickly as you can; I am holding your +wife in my arms!"</p> + +<p>"Holloa!" said Pipelet, springing up abruptly. +"Somebody got my wife in his arms!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I really cannot manage to unlace Madame Pipelet's +stays by myself!" screamed out the voice, in tones +louder than before.</p> + +<p>These words perfectly electrified Alfred, and the +blush of offended modesty empurpled his melancholy +features.</p> + +<p>"Sir-r-r!" cried he in a stentorian voice, as he +rushed frantically from his lodge. "Sir-r-r! I adjure +you, in the name of Honour, to leave my wife and +her stays alone! I come! I come!"</p> + +<p>And so saying, Alfred dashed into the dark labyrinth +called a staircase, forgetting, in his excitement, to close +the door of the lodge after him.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had he quitted it than an individual entered +quickly, snatched from the table the cobbler's hammer, +sprung on the bed, and, by means of four small tacks, +previously inserted into each corner of a thick cardboard +he carried with him, nailed the cardboard to the back of +the dark recess in which stood Pipelet's bed; then disappeared +as quickly as he had come. So expeditiously +was the operation performed, that the porter, having +almost immediately recollected his omission respecting +the closing the lodge door, hastily descended, and both +shut and locked it; then putting the key in his pocket, +returned with all speed to succour his wife above-stairs, +without the slightest suspicion crossing his mind that +any foot had trod there since his own. Having taken +this precautionary measure, Alfred again darted off to +the assistance of Anastasie, exclaiming, with all the +power of his lungs:</p> + +<p>"Sir-r-r! I come! Behold me! I place my wife +beneath the safeguard of your delicacy!"</p> + +<p>But a fresh surprise awaited the worthy porter, and +had well-nigh caused him to fall from the height he had +ascended to the sill of his own lodge,—the voice of +her he expected to find fainting in the arms of some +unknown individual was now heard, not from the upper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +part of the house, but at the entrance! In well-known +accents, but sharper and shriller than usual, he heard +Anastasie exclaim:</p> + +<p>"Why, Alfred! What do you mean by leaving the +lodge? Where have you got to, you old gossip?"</p> + +<p>At this appeal, M. Pipelet managed to descend as far +as the first landing, where he remained petrified with +astonishment, gazing downwards with fixed stare, open +mouth, and one foot drawn up in the most ludicrous +manner.</p> + +<p>"Alfred, I say!" screamed Madame Pipelet, a second +time, in a voice loud enough to awake the dead.</p> + +<p>"Anastasie down there? Then it is impossible she +can be ill up-stairs," said Pipelet, mentally, faithful to his +system of close and logical argumentation. "Whose, +then, was the manly voice that spoke of her illness, and +of his undoing her stays? An impostor, doubtless, to +whom my distraction and alarm have been a matter +of amusement; but what motive could he have had in +thus working upon my susceptible feelings? Something +very extraordinary is going on here. However, as soon +as I have been to answer my wife's inquiry, I will return +to clear up this mystery, and to discover the person +whose voice summoned me in such haste."</p> + +<p>In considerable agitation did M. Pipelet descend, and +find himself in his wife's presence.</p> + +<p>"It is you, then, this time?" inquired he.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is me; who did you expect it was?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis you, indeed! My senses do not deceive me!"</p> + +<p>"Alfred, what is the matter with you? Why do you +stand there, staring and opening your mouth, as if +you meant to swallow me?"</p> + +<p>"Because your presence reveals to me that strange +things are passing here, so strange that—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stuff and nonsense! Give me the key of the +lodge! What made you leave it when I was out? +I have just come from the office where the diligence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +starts from for Normandy. I went there in a coach to +take M. Bradamanti's trunk, as he did not wish that +little rascal, Tortillard, to know anything about it, +since, it seems, he had rather no one should be +acquainted with the fact of his leaving Paris this +evening; and, as for his mistrusting the boy, why, I +don't wonder at it."</p> + +<p>Saying these words, Madame Pipelet took the key +from her husband's hand, opened the lodge, and entered +it before her partner; but scarcely were they both safe +within its dark recesses, than an individual, lightly +descending the staircase, passed swiftly and unobserved +before the lodge. This personage was Cabrion, who, +having managed to steal up-stairs, had so powerfully +worked upon the porter's tender susceptibilities. M. +Pipelet threw himself into his chair, saying to his +wife, in a voice of deep emotion:</p> + +<p>"Anastasie; I do not feel myself comfortable to-day; +strange and mysterious things are going on in this +house."</p> + +<p>"What! Are you going to break out again? What +an old fool you are! Why, strange things happen in +every house. What has come over you? Come, let's +look at you! Well, I declare, you are all of a sweat, +just as if you had been dragged out of the water! What +have you been doing since I left you? Overexerting +yourself, I am sure, and I forbid you ever doing so. +La! Look how the great drops pour from him, poor +old chick!"</p> + +<p>"And well they may!" exclaimed M. Pipelet, passing +his hand over his face, bathed in its own dew; "well +may I sweat,—ay, even blood and water,—for there +are facts connected with this house past belief or comprehension. +First, you summon me up-stairs, and, at +the same moment, I find you waiting below! Oh, it is +too, too much for my poor brain!"</p> + +<p>"Deuce take me, if I can comprehend one word of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +you are saying! Lord, help us! It is to be hoped your +poor old brain is not cracked. I tell you what, if you +go on so, I shall just set you down for cracked; and all +through that scamp of a Cabrion,—the devil take him! +Ever since that last trick he played the other day, I +declare you have not been yourself, so flustered and +bewildered! Do you mean to live in fear and dread of +that abominable painter all your days?"</p> + +<p>But scarcely had Anastasie uttered these words than +a fearful thing occurred. Alfred continued sitting, with +his face turned towards the bed, while the lodge was +dimly illumined by the faint glimmer of a winter's +afternoon and a lamp that stood burning on the table, +near Alfred's work. By these doubtful lights, M. Pipelet, +just as his wife pronounced the name of Cabrion, +imagined he saw, in the shadow of the recess, the half +stolid, half chuckling features of his enemy. Alas! Too +truly, there he was. His steeple-crowned hat, his flowing +locks, thin countenance, sardonic smile, pointed +beard, and look of fiendish malice, all were there, past +all mistake. For a moment, M. Pipelet believed himself +under the influence of a dream, and passed his hand +across his eyes, in hopes that the illusion might disperse; +but no; there was nothing illusive in what his +eyes glared so fearfully upon,—nothing could be more +real or positive. Yet, horror of horrors! This object +seemed merely to possess a head, which, without allowing +any part of the body to appear, grinned a satanic +smile from the dark draperies of the recess in which +stood the bed. At this horrific vision M. Pipelet fell +back, without uttering a word. With uplifted arm he +pointed towards the source of his terrors, but with so +strong a manifestation of intense alarm that Madame +Pipelet, spite of her usual courage and self-possession, +could not help feeling a dread of—she knew not what. +She staggered back a few steps, then, seizing Alfred by +the hand, exclaimed:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Cabrion!"</p> + +<p>"I know it!" groaned forth M. Pipelet, in a deep, +hollow voice, shutting his eyes to exclude the frightful +spectre.</p> + +<p>Nothing could have borne more flattering tribute to +the talent which had so admirably delineated the features +of Cabrion than the overwhelming terror his pasteboard +likeness occasioned to the worthy couple in +the lodge; but the first surprise of Anastasie over, she, +bold as a lioness, rushed to the bed, sprang upon it, +and, though not without some trepidation, tore the +painting from the wall, against which it had been +nailed; then, crowning her valiant deed by her accustomed +favourite expression, the amazon triumphantly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Get along with you!"</p> + +<p>Alfred, on the contrary, remained with closed eyes +and extended hands, fixed and motionless, according to +his wont during the most critical passages of his life; +the continued oscillation of his bell-crowned hat alone +revealing, from time to time, the violence of his internal +emotions.</p> + +<p>"Open your eyes, my old duck!" cried Madame Pipelet, +triumphantly. "It is nothing to be afraid of, only +a picture, a portrait of that scoundrel Cabrion. Look +here, lovey,—look at 'Stasie stamping on it!" continued +the indignant wife, throwing the painting on the ground, +and jumping upon it with all her force; then added, +"Ah, I wish I had the villain here, to serve the same! +I'll warrant I'd mark him for life!" Then, picking up +the portrait, she said, "Well, I've served you out, anyhow! +Just look, old dear, if I haven't!"</p> + +<p>But poor Alfred, with a disconsolate shake of the +head, made signs that he had rather not, and further +intimating, by expressive gestures, his earnest desire +that his wife would remove the detested likeness of his +bitter foe far from his view.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," cried the porteress, examining the portrait by +the aid of the lamp, "was there ever such imperance? +Why, Alfred, the vile feller has presumed to write in red +letters at the bottom of the picture, 'To my dear friend +Pipelet; presented by his friend for life, Cabrion!'"</p> + +<p>"For life!" groaned Pipelet; then, heaving a deep +sigh, he added, "Yes, 'tis my life he aims at; and he +will finish by taking it. I shall exist, from this day forward, +in a state of continual alarm, believing that the +fiend who torments me is ever near,—hid, perhaps, in +the floor, the wall, the ceiling, and thence watches me +throughout the day; or even at night, when sleeping in +the chaste arms of my wife, his eye is still on me. And +who can tell but he is at this very instant behind me, +gazing with that well-known sardonic grin; or crouched +down in some corner of the room, like a deadly reptile! +Say, you monster, are you there? Are you there, I +demand?" cried M. Pipelet, accompanying this furious +adjuration by a sort of circular motion of the head, as +though wishing to interrogate every nook and corner of +the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear friend, here I am!" answered the well-known +voice of Cabrion, in blandly affectionate tones.</p> + +<p>By a simple trick in ventriloquism, these words were +made to appear as though issuing from the recess in +which stood the bed; but the malicious joker was +in reality close to the door of the lodge, enjoying every +particular look and word that passed within. However, +after uttering the last few words, he prudently disappeared +with all haste, though not (as will be seen) +without leaving his victim a fresh subject for rage, +astonishment, and meditation.</p> + +<p>Madame Pipelet, still skeptical and courageous, carefully +examined under the bed, as well as in every corner +of the lodge, but, discovering no trace of the enemy, +actually went out into the alley to prosecute her researches; +while M. Pipelet, completely crushed by this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +last blow, fell back into his chair in a state of boundless +despair.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Alfred!" said Anastasie, who always +exhibited great determination upon all critical occasions. +"Bless you! The villain had managed to hide +himself somewhere near the door, and, while we were +looking in one direction, he managed to slip out in +another. But just wait a bit: I shall catch him one of +these days, and then see if I don't make him taste my +broomstick! Let him take care, that's all!"</p> + +<p>The door opened as she concluded this animating +address, and Madame Séraphin, the housekeeper of the +notary, Jacques Ferrand, entered the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Good day, Madame Séraphin," said Madame Pipelet, +who, in her extreme anxiety to conceal her domestic +troubles from a stranger, assumed all at once a most +gracious and winning manner; "what can I have the +pleasure of doing for you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, first of all, tell me what is the meaning of +your new sign?"</p> + +<p>"Our new sign?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the small printed board."</p> + +<p>"Printed board!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; that black board with red letters, +hung over the door leading from the alley up to your +lodge."</p> + +<p>"What, out in the street?"</p> + +<p>"In the street, I tell you, precisely over your door."</p> + +<p>"I wish I may die if I understand a single word of +what you are talking about! Do you, old dear?"</p> + +<p>Alfred spoke not.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," continued Madame Séraphin, "since it +relates to M. Pipelet, he can best explain to me what +this board means."</p> + +<p>Alfred uttered a sort of heavy, inarticulate groan, +while his bell-crowned hat recommenced its convulsive +agitations. This pantomimic action was meant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +to express that Alfred was in no condition to explain +anything to anybody, having his mind already sufficiently +burdened with an infinity of problematical +questions he sought in vain to solve.</p> + +<p>"Don't take any notice of poor dear Alfred, Madame +Séraphin; he has got the cramp in his stomach, and +that makes him so very—But what is this board of +which you were speaking? Very likely it has just been +put up by the man who keeps the wine-shop at the +corner."</p> + +<p>"I tell you again it is no such thing. It is a small +painted board, hung up over your door,—I mean the +door leading from the alley to the street."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are laughing at us!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am not. I saw it just now, as I came in; +on it is written, in large letters, 'Pipelet and Cabrion, +dealers in Friendship and similar Articles. Inquire of +the Porter.'"</p> + +<p>"Gracious goodness! Do you hear that, Alfred? Do +you hear what is written up over our door?"</p> + +<p>Alfred gazed at Madame Séraphin with a bewildered +look, but he neither understood nor sought to understand +her meaning.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say," continued Madame Pipelet, +confounded by this fresh audacity, "that you positively +saw a little board out in the street with all that about +Alfred and Cabrion, and dealing in friendship?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you I have just seen it, and read with my own +eyes what I described to you. 'Well,' said I to myself, +'this is droll enough! M. Pipelet is a shoemaker by +trade, but here he writes up publicly that he is a dealer +in friendship along with a M. Cabrion! What can all this +mean? There is something meant more than meets the +eye!' Still, as the board further directed all persons +desirous of knowing more to apply to the porter, 'Oh,' +thinks I, 'Madame Pipelet can explain all this to me!' +But, look, look!" cried Madame Séraphin, suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +breaking off in her remarks. "Your husband is taken ill! +Mind what you are about, or he will fall backwards!"</p> + +<p>Madame Pipelet flew to her afflicted partner, and was +just in time to receive him, half fainting, in her arms. +The last blow had been too overwhelming,—the man +in the bell-crowned hat had but just strength left to +murmur forth, "The scoundrel has, then, publicly +placarded me!"</p> + +<p>"I told you, Madame Séraphin, that poor Alfred was +suffering dreadful with the cramp in his stomach, besides +being worried to death by a crack-brained vagabond, who +is at him night and day: he'll be the death of my poor +old duck at last. Never mind, darling, I've got a nice +little drop of aniseed to give you; so drink it, and see if +you can't shake your old feathers and be yourself again!"</p> + +<p>Thanks to the timely application of Madame Pipelet's +infallible remedy, Alfred gradually recovered his senses; +but, alas, scarcely was he restored to full consciousness +ere he was subjected to another and equally cruel trial +of his feelings!</p> + +<p>An individual of middle age, respectably dressed, and +possessing a countenance so simple, or rather so silly, as +to render it impossible to suspect him of any malice prepense +or intended irony, opened the upper and glazed +part of the lodge door, saying, with the most genuine +air of mystification:</p> + +<p>"I have just read on a small board placed over the +door, at the entrance to the alley, the following words: +'Pipelet and Cabrion, dealers in Friendship and similar +Articles. Inquire of the Porter.' Will you oblige me +by explaining the meaning of those words, if you are, as +I presume you to be, the porter in question?"</p> + +<p>"The meaning!" exclaimed M. Pipelet, in a voice +of thunder, and giving vent at length to his so long +restrained indignation; "the meaning is simply, +sir-r-r, that M. Cabrion is an infamous scoundrel,—an +impostor!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + +<p>The simple-looking interrogator drew back, in dread +of the consequences that might follow this sudden and +furious burst of wrath, while, wrought up to a state of +fury, Alfred leaned over the half door of the lodge, his +glaring eyeballs and clenched hands indicating the intensity +of his feelings; while the figures of Madame Séraphin +and Anastasie were dimly revealed amid the murky +shades of the small room.</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you, sir-r-r!" cried M. Pipelet, addressing +the placid-looking man at the door, "that I have no +dealings with that beggar Cabrion, and certainly none +in the way of friendship!"</p> + +<p>"No, that I'm sure you have not!" screamed out +Madame Pipelet, in confirmation of her husband's +words; adding, as she displayed her forbidding countenance +over her husband's shoulder, "and I wonder +very much where that old dunderhead has come from +to ask such a stupid question?"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, madame," said the guileless-looking +individual thus addressed, again withdrawing another +step to escape the concentrated anger of the enraged pair; +"placards are made to be read,—you put out a board, +which I read,—now allow me to say that I am not to +blame for perusing what you set up purposely to attract +attention, but that you are decidedly wrong to insult +me so grossly when I civilly come to you, as your own +board desires, for information."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you old fool! Get along with you!" exclaimed +Anastasie, with a most hideous distortion of visage.</p> + +<p>"You are a rude, unmannerly woman!"</p> + +<p>"Alfred, deary, just fetch me your boot-jack: I'll give +that old chatterer such a mark that his own mother shall +not know her darling again!"</p> + +<p>"Really, madame, I can't say I understand receiving +such rough treatment when I come, by your own directions, +to make inquiries respecting what you or your +husband have publicly notified in the streets."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, sir-r-r—!" cried the unhappy porter.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" interrupted the hitherto placid inquirer, now +worked up into extreme rage, "Sir! You may carry +your friendship with your M. Cabrion as far as you +please, but, give me leave to tell you, you have no business +to parade yourself or your friendships in the face +of everybody in the streets. And I think it right, sir, to +let you know a bit of my mind; which is, that you are +a boasting braggart, and that I shall go at once and lay +a formal complaint against you at the police office." +Saying which, the individual departed in an apparently +towering passion.</p> + +<p>"Anastasie," moaned out poor Pipelet, in a dolorous +voice, "I shall never survive all this! I feel but too +surely that I am struck with death,—I have not a hope +of escape! You hear my name is publicly exposed in +the open streets, in company with that scoundrel's! He +has dared to placard the hideous tale of my having +entered into a treaty of friendship with him! And the +innocent, unsuspecting public will read the hateful statement—remember +it—repeat it—spread the detestable +report! Oh, monstrous, enormous, devilish invention! +None but a fiend could have had such a thought. But +there must be an end to this. The measure is full,—ay, +to overflowing; and things have come to such a pass +that either this accursed painter or myself must perish +in the deadly struggle!" And, wrought up to such a +state of vigorous resolution as to completely conquer his +usual apathy, M. Pipelet seized the portrait of Cabrion +and rushed towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, Alfred?" screamed the wife.</p> + +<p>"To the commissary of police, and, at the same time, +to tear down that vile board! Then, bearing the board +in one hand and the portrait in the other, I will cry +aloud to the commissary, 'Defend, avenge an injured +man! Deliver me from Cabrion!'"</p> + +<p>"So do, old darling! There, hold up your head and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +pluck up courage! And I tell you what, if the board is +too high for you to reach, ask the man at the wine-shop +to lend you his small ladder. That blackguard of a +Cabrion! I only wish I had him in my power, I'd fry +him for half an hour in my largest stew-pan! Why, +scores of people have been publicly executed who did not +deserve death a quarter as much as he does! The villain! +I should like to see him just ready to have the +guillotine dropped upon his head. Wouldn't I give him +my blessing in a friendly way? A rascal!"</p> + +<p>Alfred, amid all his woes, yet displayed a rare magnanimity, +contrasting strongly with the vindictive spirit +of his partner.</p> + +<p>"No, no," said he; "spite of the wrongs he has done +me, I would not, even if his life were in my power, +'demand his head!'"</p> + +<p>"But I would! I would! I would!" vociferated the +ferocious Anastasie. "If he had fifty heads, I would +demand every one of them! I would not leave him one! +But go along; make haste, Alfred, and set the commissary +of police to work upon him."</p> + +<p>"No," cried Alfred, "I desire not his blood; but I +have a right to demand the perpetual imprisonment of +this malicious being. My repose requires it,—my health +peremptorily calls for it. The laws of my country must +either grant me this reparation for all I have suffered, or +I quit France. Yes, beautiful and beloved France! I turn +my back on you for ever! And that is all an ungrateful +nation would gain by neglecting to heal the wounds +of my tortured mind;" and, bending beneath the weight +of his grief, Alfred majestically quitted the lodge, like +one of the ancient victims of all-conquering Fatality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3> + +<h5>CECILY.</h5> + + +<p>Before we introduce the reader to the conversation +between Madame Séraphin and Madame Pipelet, we must +premise that Anastasie, without entertaining the very +slightest suspicion of the virtue and piety of the notary, +felt the greatest indignation at the severity manifested +by him in the case both of Louise Morel and M. Germain; +and, as a natural consequence, the angry porteress +included Madame Séraphin in the same censure; but +still, like a skilful politician, Madame Pipelet, for reasons +we shall hereafter explain, concealed her dislike to +the <i>femme-de-charge</i> under the appearance of the greatest +cordiality. After having explicitly declared her extreme +disapprobation of the conduct pursued by Cabrion, Madame +Séraphin went on to say:</p> + +<p>"By the way, what has become of M. Bradamanti +Polidori? I wrote to him yesterday evening, but got no +reply; this morning I came to see him, but he was not +to be found. I trust I shall be more fortunate this +time."</p> + +<p>Madame Pipelet affected the most lively regret.</p> + +<p>"Really," cried she, "you are doomed to be unlucky!"</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"M. Bradamanti has not yet returned."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, this is enough to tire a saint!"</p> + +<p>"So it is, I declare, Madame Séraphin. I'm sure I'm +as sorry about it as if it was my own self."</p> + +<p>"I had so much to say to him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is all for the world as though you were +bewitched!"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, it is so much the more vexatious, because +I have to find all manner of excuses to run down here; +for, if once M. Ferrand were to find out that I came to +consult a quack doctor, he who is so devout, so scrupulous +in all things, we should have a fearful scene!"</p> + +<p>"La! He is just like Alfred, who is so silly that +really he is afraid of everything and everybody!"</p> + +<p>"And you do not know, I suppose, when M. Bradamanti +will return home?"</p> + +<p>"No, not precisely; but I know very well that he +expects some one about six or seven o'clock this evening, +for he told me to request the person to call again, should +he not be at home at the time mentioned. So, if you will +call again in the evening, you will be sure to see him."</p> + +<p>But, as Anastasie said these words, she mentally +added, "I would not have you too sure of that; in an +hour's time he will be on his road to Normandy!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Madame Séraphin, with an air +of considerable chagrin. Then, pausing a brief space, +she added, "I had also something to say to you, my +dear Madame Pipelet. You know, I suppose, what happened +to that girl, Louise Morel, whom everybody +thought so good and virtuous—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray don't mention her!" replied Madame Pipelet, +rolling her eyes with affected horror. "It makes one's +hair stand on end."</p> + +<p>"I merely alluded to her by way of saying that we +are now quite without a servant, and that, if you should +chance to hear of a well-disposed, honest, and industrious +young person, I should take it as a favour if you would +send her to us. Upon my word, girls of good character +are so difficult to be met with that one had need search +in twenty places at once to find one."</p> + +<p>"Depend upon it, Madame Séraphin, that, should I +hear of anybody likely to suit you, I will let you know;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +but, in my opinion, good situations are more rare even +than good servants." Then, again relapsing into a fit +of abstraction, Anastasie added, though mentally, "A +likely story that I should send any young girl to be +starved to death in your dungeon of a house; your master +is too stingy and hard-hearted! The idea of throwing +that poor Louise and M. Germain both in prison!"</p> + +<p>"I need not tell you," continued Madame Séraphin, +"what a still, quiet house ours is; any young person +must be improved by living in a family where there is +continually something to be learned; and that Louise +must have been naturally a depraved creature, to turn +out badly spite of the good and religious advice bestowed +on her by M. Ferrand."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; but depend upon it that, directly I hear +of a young person likely to suit you, I will be sure to let +you know."</p> + +<p>"There is just one thing more I should like to mention," +resumed Madame Séraphin, "and that is, that +M. Ferrand would greatly prefer taking a person who +had no relatives or friends, because then, you understand, +having no motive for wishing to go out, she would +be less exposed to danger, neither would her mind be so +likely to be upset; so that, if you should happen to +meet with an orphan, I think M. Ferrand would prefer +taking her, in the first place, because it would be doing +a good action; and, secondly, as, having neither friends +nor followers, she could not have any excuse for wishing +to go out. I assure you that wretched girl, Louise, gave +M. Ferrand a severe lesson, I can tell you, Madame +Pipelet, and one that will make him very careful what +sort of a servant he engages. Only imagine such a +scandalous affair occurring in a house like ours! Dreadful! +Well, then, I will call again this evening to see +M. Bradamanti, and, at the same time, I can have a +little conversation with Mother Burette."</p> + +<p>"Then I will say adieu, Madame Séraphin, till this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +evening, when you will be quite sure of finding +M. Bradamanti."</p> + +<p>Madame Séraphin returned the salutation, and quitted +the lodge.</p> + +<p>"What a deuce of a worry she is in about Bradamanti!" +said Madame Pipelet, when her visitor had +disappeared. "I wonder what she wants with him? And +then, too, M. Bradamanti is just as anxious to avoid seeing +her before he starts for Normandy. I was dreadfully +afraid she meant to stick here till he did return +home, and that would have been the more awkward, as +M. Bradamanti expects the same lady who came last +night; I could not manage to have a squint at her then, +but I am determined to-night to stare her regularly out +of countenance, like I did the lady who came on the sly +to visit my five-farthing commandant. Ah, the screw! +the nipcheese! He has never ventured to show his face +here since. However, by way of teaching him better, I +shall make good use of his wood; yes, yes, my fine +gentleman, it shall keep the lodge warm, as well as air +your shut-up apartments. A disappointed puppy! Ha, ha, +ha! Go, and be hanged with your paltry twelve francs +a month! Better learn to pay people honest wages, than +go flaunting about in a bright green dressing-gown, like +a great lanky grasshopper! But who the plague can +this lady of M. Bradamanti's be, I wonder? Is she +respectable, or t'other? I should like to know, for I +am as curious as a magpie; but that is not my fault; +I am as God made me, so I can't help it. I know one's +disposition is born with us, and so the blame does not +lie at my door. Stop a bit; I've just thought of a capital +plan to find out who this lady really is; and, what's +more, I'll engage it turns out successful. Who is that I +see coming? Ah, my king of lodgers! Your servant, +M. Rodolph!" cried Madame Pipelet, saluting him, after +the military fashion, by placing the back of her left hand +to her wig.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was, in truth, Rodolph, who, as yet ignorant of the +death of M. d'Harville, approached gaily, saying:</p> + +<p>"Good day to you, Madame Pipelet! Can you tell +me if Mlle. Rigolette is at home? I have something +to say to her, if she is."</p> + +<p>"At home, poor girl! Why, when is she ever out? +When does she lose an hour, or idle instead of working?"</p> + +<p>"And how gets on Morel's unfortunate wife? Does +she appear more reconciled to her misfortunes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, M. Rodolph, I am glad to say she does; and +how can she be otherwise, when, thanks to you, or the +generous friend whose agent you are, she is supplied +with every comfort, both for herself and her children, +who are as happy as fishes in the sea? Why, they want +for nothing; they have good air, good food, good fires, +and good beds, with a nurse to take care of them, besides +Mlle. Rigolette, who, although working like a little busy +bee, and without seeming to take part in their proceedings, +never loses sight of them, bless you! And they have +had a black doctor to see them, who says he comes from +you. 'Well,' says I, when I looked at him, 'you are a +funny one for a doctor, you are! I suppose, Mr. Nigger, +you are physician to a company of charcoalmen, because +there is no fear of your blacking your hands when you +feel their pulse?' But la, M. Rodolph, I'm only joking! +For what difference does colour make? Leastways +your blacky seems to be a first-rate clever man, spite +of his dingy face, for the first thing he did was to order +a composing draught for Morel's wife, which did her a +world of good!"</p> + +<p>"Poor thing! I doubt not she is still very miserable?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, M. Rodolph, naturally enough she is, for +she has plenty of grief before her: her husband in a +madhouse, and her daughter in prison! Ah, that poor +Louise! That is the sorest of her heartaches; such +a blow as that to an honest family, such as theirs has +always been, is not to be got over so easily. And that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +Madame Séraphin, housekeeper to the notary, who has +caused all this misery, has just been here, saying all +manner of cruel things about the poor girl. If I had +not had my own game to play, she should not have told +the tale quite her own way; but I've got a pill for her +to swallow by and by, so I'll let her off easy. Why, only +conceive her assurance in coming to ask me if I could +not recommend her some young person to supply the +place of Louise in the establishment of that old brute of +a notary. What a blessed pair the master and his housekeeper +are! Just fancy their preferring an orphan, if +they can obtain one, to be their servant! Don't you see +through that, M. Rodolph? They pretend that their +reason for wishing for an orphan is, because, having +neither parents nor friends, she would never wish to go +out, and would be more free from interruption; but that +is not it, that is all a fudge; the truth is, they think +that, if they could get a poor, friendless girl into their +clutches, having nobody to see her righted, they could +cheat her out of her wages as much as they liked. Now +is not that true, M. Rodolph?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," replied the person addressed, with the +air of one who is thinking deeply on a subject.</p> + +<p>The information thus afforded him as to Madame +Séraphin seeking an orphan girl, to replace Louise as +servant in the family of M. Ferrand, appeared to present +the almost certain means of accomplishing the just punishment +of the notary; and, while Madame Pipelet was +yet speaking, he was arranging every point of the part +he had mentally destined for Cecily, whom he purposed +making the principal instrument in effecting the retributive +justice he meant to inflict on the vile persecutor of +Louise Morel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was quite sure you would be of my opinion," +continued Madame Pipelet, "and that you would agree +with me in thinking that their only reason for desiring +to engage an orphan girl is, that they may do her out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +her wages; and, I can tell you, I would sooner drop down +dead than send any poor, friendless creature to such a +house! Certainly, I don't happen to know of any one, +but, if I knew of fifty, they should not enter into such +a wretched house, if I could hinder them. Don't you +think I'm right, M. Rodolph?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Pipelet, will you do me a great favour?"</p> + +<p>"Do you a favour, M. Rodolph? Lord love your +heart and soul! Just say what there is I can do for +you, and then see whether I will or no. Come, what +is it? Shall I jump into the fire? or curl my best wig +with boiling oil? or is there anybody I can worry, bite, +pinch, or scold for you? Only say the word. I am +wholly at your service, heart and body, your most +humble slave; always stipulating that in my service +there shall be no offence to Alfred's prior claims +on me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear Madame Pipelet, make yourself perfectly +easy! I want you to manage a little affair for +me, which is this: I have got to place out a young +orphan girl, who is utterly a stranger to Paris; and +I wish very much, with your assistance, to obtain for +her the situation vacant in M. Ferrand's establishment."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it? La, I never can think you are +in earnest! What! Send a poor, friendless girl to live +with such a miserly wretch as that hard-hearted old +notary? No, no, M. Rodolph, that was not what you +wanted me to do, I'm sure!"</p> + +<p>"But, indeed, it is; why, a place is a place, and, if +the young person I mentioned to you should not like +it, she is not obliged to stay there; and then, don't you +see, she would at once be able to maintain herself, while +I should have no further uneasiness about her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as far as that goes, M. Rodolph, it is your affair, not +mine; and, whatever happens, remember I warned you. +If, after all you have heard, you still think the place would +suit your young friend, why, of course, you can please<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +yourself; and, then, to be sure, as far as regards the +notary, there are always two sides to every picture, a for +and against to every tale; he is hard-hearted as a flint-stone, +obstinate as a jackass, bigoted as a Jesuit, that's +true enough; but then he is of the most scrupulous +punctuality in all his affairs; he gives very low wages, +but, then, he pays on the nail; the living is very bad at +his house, still it is the same one day as another. In +a word, though it is a house where a servant must work +like a horse, yet, at the same time, it is one of those dull, +quiet, stupid places, where there is certainly nothing to +tempt a girl to get into mischief. Certainly, Louise +managed to go wrong, but that was all a chance."</p> + +<p>"Madame Pipelet, I am going to confide a great secret +to your honour."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, upon the word and honour of Anastasie +Pipelet, whose maiden name was Gulimard, as true as +there is a God and heaven, and that Alfred always wears +green coats, I will be silent as a stockfish!"</p> + +<p>"You must not breathe a word to M. Pipelet."</p> + +<p>"That I won't, I swear by the head of that dear old +duck himself, if it relates to a proper and correct +affair."</p> + +<p>"Surely, Madame Pipelet, you have too good an +opinion of me to suppose, for a minute, that I would +insult your chaste ears with anything that was not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, go it! Let's know all about it, and, +I promise you, Alfred shall never be the wiser, be it +what it may. Bless you! he is as easy to cheat as +a child of six years old."</p> + +<p>"I rely implicitly on you; therefore listen to my +words."</p> + +<p>"I will, my king of lodgers; and remember that we +are now sworn friends for life or for death. So go on +with your story."</p> + +<p>"The young person I spoke to you about has, unfortunately, +committed one serious fault."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I was sure of it! Why, Lord bless you, if I had not +married Alfred when I was fifteen years of age, I dare +say I should have committed, fifties and hundreds of +faults! I? There, just as you see. I was like a barrel +of gunpowder at the very sight or mention of a smart +young fellow. Luckily for me, Pipelet extinguished the +warmth of my nature in the coolness of his own virtue; +if he had not, I can't say what might have happened, for +I did dearly love the gay deceivers! I merely mention +this to say that, if the young person has only done wrong +once, then there are great hopes of her."</p> + +<p>"I trust, indeed, she will atone for her past misconduct. +She was living in service, in Germany, with a +relation of mine, and the partner of her crime was the +son of this relative. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Do I? Don't I? Go along with you! I understand +as well as though I had committed the fault myself."</p> + +<p>"The angry mistress, upon discovering her servant's +guilt, drove her from her house; but the young man +was weak enough to quit his paternal roof, and to bring +the unfortunate girl to Paris."</p> + +<p>"Well, la, M. Rodolph! What else could you expect? +Why, young people will be young people. I'm sure I—"</p> + +<p>"After this act of folly came stern reflection, rendered +still more severe by the fact of the slender stock +of money he possessed being exhausted. In this dilemma, +my young relation applied to me; and I consented +to furnish him with the means of returning home, +on condition of his leaving behind him the companion +of his flight, whom I undertook to place out in some +respectable capacity."</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare, I could not have done more for a +son, if it had pleased Heaven—and Pipelet—that I +should have had one!"</p> + +<p>"I am delighted that you approve of my conduct; +still, as the young girl is a stranger, and has no one to +give her a recommendation, I fear it will be rather difficult<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +to get her placed. Now, if you would tell Madame +Séraphin that a relation of yours, living in Germany, +has sent her to you, with a very excellent character, the +notary would, possibly, take her into his service; and I +should be doubly delighted. Cecily (for that is her +name), having only once gone astray, would, doubtless, +soon regain the right path in a house as severe and +saintly as that of the notary's; and it is for that reason +I am desirous of seeing the poor girl enter into the service +of M. Ferrand; and, of course, if introduced by so +respectable a person as yourself, Madame Pipelet, there +would be no fear of her obtaining the place."</p> + +<p>"Oh, M. Rodolph!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, my good madame, I am sure that one +word from so justly esteemed an individual as you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my king of lodgers!"</p> + +<p>"I repeat that, if you would patronise the young girl +so far as to introduce her to Madame Séraphin, I have +no fears but that she would be accepted; whereas, you +know, if I were to accompany her to the notary's +house—"</p> + +<p>"I see what you mean; to be sure, it would look just +as queer as if I were to introduce a young man. Well, +I will do what you wish; it will be serving old Séraphin +out as she deserves. I can tell you I have had a crow +to pluck with her a long time, and this seems a famous +way of serving her out; besides, it's a good lark, any +way. So look upon the thing as done, M. Rodolph. I'll +cram the old woman well. I will tell her that a relation +of my own, long established in Germany, has just +died, as well as her husband, leaving a daughter wholly +dependent on me."</p> + +<p>"Capital! Well, then, without saying anything more +to Madame Séraphin, you shall take Cecily to M. Ferrand. +All you will have to say is, that, not having seen or +heard anything of your relation during the last twenty +years, you consider it best to let her speak for herself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, but then, if the girl only jabbers German?"</p> + +<p>"I assure you she speaks French perfectly well. I +will give her proper instructions, therefore you need do +nothing more than strongly recommend her to Madame +Séraphin,—or, stay, upon second thoughts, perhaps +you had better not say any more than you have done +on the subject, for fear she should suspect you want to +force the girl upon her. You know that, frequently, +the very asking a thing produces a refusal."</p> + +<p>"I should think I did, too! Why, that was the way I +got rid of all the flattering lovers that came about me. +If they had never asked me a favour, I don't know what +I might have done."</p> + +<p>"It is always the case; therefore say nothing more +to Madame Séraphin than just this, that Cecily is an +orphan, and a stranger here, very young and very pretty, +that she will be a heavy burden to you, and that you are +not particularly fond of her, in consequence of having +long since quarrelled with her mother, and, consequently, +not retaining a very great affection for the +charge bequeathed to your care."</p> + +<p>"What a deep one you are! But never mind, there's +a pair of us! I say, M. Rodolph, is it not odd you and +I should understand each other so well? Ah, we two +should have suited one another to a hair! Gracious, +M. Rodolph, when I think what might have happened, +if we had chanced to have met when I was such a tender-hearted, +susceptible young creature, and so fond of +handsome young men,—don't you fancy we should have +seemed like made for one another,—eh, M. Rodolph?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! Suppose M. Pipelet—"</p> + +<p>"I forgot him, poor old duck! His brain is half +turned since this last abominable prank of Cabrion's; +but I'll tell you about that another time. As for your +young relation, make yourself quite easy; I will undertake +to play my part so well that old Séraphin shall +come to me, and beg to have her as a servant."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And if you succeed, Madame Pipelet, I have one +hundred francs quite at your service. I am not rich, +but—"</p> + +<p>"Are you making fun of me, M. Rodolph, or do you +imagine I am doing what I do for the sake of gain? I +declare to God it's out of nothing but pure friendship! +One hundred francs! That's handsome, however!"</p> + +<p>"Why, I consider it but an act of justice, as well as +gratitude, to offer you a sum which, if left several +months on my hands, the girl must soon have cost me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, then, since I can serve you by accepting +your hundred francs, of course I have no further objection, +M. Rodolph; but we drew a famous prize in the +lottery when you came into the house, and I don't care +who hears me say it, for I'd as lief cry it on the housetops. +You are the very prince and king of good lodgers! +Halloa, there is a hackney-coach! No doubt, the lady +M. Bradamanti expects; I could not manage to see her +well when she came yesterday, but I'll have a precious +good stare at her this time; added to which, I've got +a capital plan for finding out her name. Come, you +shall see me go to work; it will be a famous lark for +us!"</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you, Madame Pipelet; I have not the +slightest curiosity respecting either the name or features +of this lady," returned Rodolph, withdrawing to the very +end of the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Where do you wish to go, madame?" cried Anastasie, +rushing towards the female, who was entering.</p> + +<p>"I am going to M. Bradamanti's," returned the person +addressed, visibly annoyed at having her progress thus +arrested.</p> + +<p>"He is not at home."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I am not!" said the porteress, skilfully contriving +so to place herself as to command a perfect view +of the stranger's features. "M. Bradamanti has gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +out, positively, absolutely gone out; that is to say, he is +not at home, except to one lady."</p> + +<p>"'Tis I, he expects me; and pray, my good woman, +allow me to pass; you are really troublesome!"</p> + +<p>"Your name, madame, if you please? I shall soon +see if it is the name of the person M. Bradamanti desired +me to admit. Should yours not be the right name, +you don't go up-stairs, unless you first trample on my +body!"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible he could be so imprudent as to tell you +my name?" cried the female, with as much surprise as +uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Certainly he did, madame, or how should I know +it?"</p> + +<p>"How very thoughtless!" murmured the stranger. +Then, after a momentary hesitation, she said, impatiently, +in a low voice, and as if fearful of being overheard, +"My name is D'Orbigny."</p> + +<p>Rodolph started at the word, as it reached his ear, for +it was the name of Madame d'Harville's mother-in-law. +Advancing, therefore, from the dark corner in which he +stood, he managed, by the light of the lamp, to obtain a +clear view of the stranger, in whose features he easily +traced the portrait so skilfully drawn by Clémence of +the author of all her sufferings.</p> + +<p>"Madame d'Orbigny!" repeated Madame Pipelet, in a +loud tone. "Ah, then you may go up-stairs; that is the +name M. Bradamanti gave me."</p> + +<p>Madame d'Harville's mother-in-law waited for no second +bidding, but rapidly passed by the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Well done us!" shouted the porteress, with a triumphant +air; "I have caught my fish, done the great lady! +Now, then, I know her name,—she is Madame d'Orbigny. +That wasn't a bad scheme of mine, was it, +M. Rodolph? But what the plague is the matter with +you? How sad and thoughtful you have grown all of a +minute!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This lady has been to see M. Bradamanti before, has +she not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was here yesterday evening; and, directly +she was gone, M. Bradamanti went out, most probably, +to take his place in the diligence for to-day, because, +when he came back, he asked me to take his trunk to +the coach office, as he could not trust that little rascal, +Tortillard."</p> + +<p>"And do you know where M. Bradamanti is going?"</p> + +<p>"To Normandy, by way of Alençon."</p> + +<p>Rodolph called to his remembrance that Aubiers, the +seat of M. d'Orbigny, was situated in Normandy. There +was no longer a doubt that the charlatan was proceeding +to the paternal home of Clémence, and, as a matter of +course, to aid and assist in some scheme of wickedness.</p> + +<p>"The departure of M. Bradamanti will put old Séraphin +out preciously!" resumed Madame Pipelet. "I +can't make out what she wants with him; but she seems +as much bent upon seeing him as he is on avoiding her; +for he charged me particularly not to tell her that he +leaves Paris to-night at six o'clock. So, when she calls +again, she will find nobody at home; that will give me +an opportunity of talking to her about your young person. +Let's see, what is her name? Cissy—"</p> + +<p>"Cecily!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see! Just clap two more letters to the word +I said,—that'll do. I must tie a knot in the corner of +my handkerchief, that I may be able to recollect this +bother of a name. Ciss—Cissy—Cecily—I've got +it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I think it is time for me to visit Mlle. +Rigolette," said Rodolph to Madame Pipelet, as he +quitted the lodge.</p> + +<p>"And when you come down-stairs, M. Rodolph, I hope +you will just speak a word or two to my dear old darling +of a husband. He has had a deal of trouble lately, and +I know it will be a great relief to him to tell you all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +about it. That beast of a Cabrion has been at his old +tricks again!"</p> + +<p>"Be assured, Madame Pipelet, I shall always be ready +to sympathise with your worthy husband in all his +troubles."</p> + +<p>And with these words Rodolph, strangely preoccupied +with the recent visit of Madame d'Orbigny to Polidori, +slowly pursued his way to the apartment of Mlle. +Rigolette.</p> + +<p class="ending">END OF VOLUME III.</p> + +<div class="tr"> +<h4>Transcriber's Notes:</h4> + +<p>This e-text was prepared from numbered edition 505 of the 1000 printed.</p> + +<p>In the original text the title "The Mysteries of Paris" and the "Edition +de Luxe" are printed in Bold Gothic Font.</p> + +<p>Minor punctuation and capitalization corrections have been made +without comment.</p> + +<p>Minor typographical errors of single words, otherwise spelled +correctly throughout the text have been made without comment.</p> + +<p>Contents, corrected printers error of Chapter III page reference +from page 109 to page 108.</p> + +<p>p. 26, removed duplicate "and" (strictly and expressly forbidden)</p> + +<p>p. 86, changed "ask" to "asked" ("...on the spot?" asked Rodolph.)</p> + +<p>Word Variations appearing in the original text which have been +retained:</p> + +<div class="tns"> +<p>"Duchess" and "Duchesse"<br /> +"good-by" and "good-bye"<br /> +"Halloa" and "Holloa"<br /> +"Saint-Remy" and "Saint Rémy"</p> +</div> + +<p>Throughout the text, illustrations and their captions were placed on +facing pages. For the purpose of this e-text these pages have been +combined into one entry.</p> + +<p>Footnotes, originally at the bottom of a printed page, have been placed +directly below the paragraph in which their anchor symbol appears.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 3 of 6, by +Eugène Sue + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS, V.3 *** + +***** This file should be named 33802-h.htm or 33802-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/0/33802/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Christine Aldridge and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(Stanford University, SUL Books in the Public Domain) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/33802-h/images/i001.jpg b/33802-h/images/i001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a396ca --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i001.jpg diff --git a/33802-h/images/i002.jpg b/33802-h/images/i002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2b5abb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i002.jpg diff --git a/33802-h/images/i003.jpg b/33802-h/images/i003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e300e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i003.jpg diff --git a/33802-h/images/i004.jpg b/33802-h/images/i004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d0c8dca --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i004.jpg diff --git a/33802-h/images/i005.jpg b/33802-h/images/i005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8dee473 --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i005.jpg diff --git a/33802-h/images/i006.jpg b/33802-h/images/i006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..652871c --- /dev/null +++ b/33802-h/images/i006.jpg |
