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diff --git a/3985-h/3985-h.htm b/3985-h/3985-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d936dc7 --- /dev/null +++ b/3985-h/3985-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12980 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Gerfaut, by Charles de Bernard + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Gerfaut, Complete, by Charles de Bernard + +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: Gerfaut, Complete + +Author: Charles de Bernard + +Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #3985] +Last Updated: August 23, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERFAUT, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + GERFAUT + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Charles de Bernard + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + With a Preface by JULES CLARETIE, of the French Academy + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> CHARLES DE BERNARD </a><br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>THE TRAVELLER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>THE CASTLE OF BERGENHEIM <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>A DIVIDED HOUSEHOLD <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>THE GALLANT IN THE GARDEN <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>ART AND MUSIC <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0008"> <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>GERFAUT’S STORY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>GERFAUT ASKS A FAVOR <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>A LOVER’S RUSE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>GERFAUT, THE WIZARD <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>PLOTS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>A QUARREL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>AN INHARMONIOUS MUSICALE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>MONSIEUR DE BERGENHEIM <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>GERFAUT’S ALLEGORY <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>DECLARATION OF WAR <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>GERFAUT WINS A POINT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>A RUDE INTERRUPTION <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>ESPIONAGE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>THE REVELATION <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0024"> <b>BOOK 4.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>MARILLAC TELLS A STORY <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>A STRATAGEM <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>THE CRISIS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>THE AGREEMENT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>A FRIEND’S ADVICE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>THE WILD BOAR <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>BERGENHEIM’S REVENGE <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHARLES DE BERNARD + </h2> + <p> + PIERRE-MARIE-CHARLES DE BERNARD DU GRAIL DE LA VILLETTE, better known by + the name of Charles de Bernard, was born in Besancon, February 24, 1804. + He came from a very ancient family of the Vivarais, was educated at the + college of his native city, and studied for the law in Dijon and at Paris. + He was awarded a prize by the ‘Jeux floraux’ for his dithyrambics, ‘Une + fete de Neron’ in 1829. This first success in literature did not prevent + him aspiring to the Magistrature, when the Revolution of 1830 broke out + and induced him to enter politics. He became one of the founders of the + ‘Gazette de Franche-Comte’ and an article in the pages of this journal + about ‘Peau de chagrin’ earned him the thanks and the friendship of + Balzac. + </p> + <p> + The latter induced him to take up his domicile in Paris and initiated him + into the art of novel-writing. Bernard had published a volume of odes: + ‘Plus Deuil que Joie’ (1838), which was not much noticed, but a series of + stories in the same year gained him the reputation of a genial ‘conteur’. + They were collected under the title ‘Le Noeud Gordien’, and one of the + tales, ‘Une Aventure du Magistrat, was adapted by Sardou for his comedy + ‘Pommes du voisin’. ‘Gerfaut’, his greatest work, crowned by the Academy, + appeared also in 1838, then followed ‘Le Paravent’, another collection of + novels (1839); ‘Les Ailes d’Icare (1840); La Peau du Lion and La Chasse + aux Amants (1841); L’Ecueil (1842); Un Beau-pere (1845); and finally Le + Gentilhomme campagnard,’ in 1847. Bernard died, only forty-eight years + old, March 6, 1850. + </p> + <p> + Charles de Bernard was a realist, a pupil of Balzac. He surpasses his + master, nevertheless, in energy and limpidity of composition. His style is + elegant and cultured. His genius is most fully represented in a score or + so of delightful tales rarely exceeding some sixty or seventy pages in + length, but perfect in proportion, full of invention and originality, and + saturated with the purest and pleasantest essence of the spirit which for + six centuries in tableaux, farces, tales in prose and verse, comedies and + correspondence, made French literature the delight and recreation of + Europe. ‘Gerfaut’ is considered De Bernard’s greatest work. The plot turns + on an attachment between a married woman and the hero of the story. The + book has nothing that can justly offend, the incomparable sketches of + Marillac and Mademoiselle de Corandeuil are admirable; Gerfaut and + Bergenheim possess pronounced originality, and the author is, so to speak, + incarnated with the hero of his romance. + </p> + <p> + The most uncritical reader can not fail to notice the success with which + Charles de Bernard introduces people of rank and breeding into his + stories. Whether or not he drew from nature, his portraits of this kind + are exquisitely natural and easy. It is sufficient to say that he is the + literary Sir Joshua Reynolds of the post-revolution vicomtes and + marquises. We can see that his portraits are faithful; we must feel that + they are at the same time charming. Bernard is an amiable and spirited + ‘conteur’ who excels in producing an animated spectacle for a refined and + selected public, whether he paints the ridiculousness or the misery of + humanity. + </p> + <p> + The works of Charles de Bernard in wit and urbanity, and in the peculiar + charm that wit and urbanity give, are of the best French type. To any + elevation save a lofty place in fiction they have no claim; but in that + phase of literature their worth is undisputed, and from many testimonies + it would seem that those whom they most amuse are those who are best worth + amusing. + </p> + <p> + These novels, well enough as they are known to professed students of + French literature, have, by the mere fact of their age, rather slipped out + of the list of books known to the general reader. The general reader who + reads for amusement can not possibly do better than proceed to transform + his ignorance of them into knowledge. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + JULES CLARETIE + de l’Academie Francaise. + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + GERFAUT + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 1. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE TRAVELLER + </h2> + <p> + During the first days of the month of September, 1832, a young man about + thirty years of age was walking through one of the valleys in Lorraine + originating in the Vosges mountains. A little river which, after a few + leagues of its course, flows into the Moselle, watered this wild basin + shut in between two parallel lines of mountains. The hills in the south + became gradually lower and finally dwindled away into the plain. Alongside + the plateau, arranged in amphitheatres, large square fields stripped of + their harvest lay here and there in the primitive forest; in other places, + innumerable oaks and elms had been dethroned to give place to plantations + of cherry-trees, whose symmetrical rows promised an abundant harvest. + </p> + <p> + This contest of nature with industry is everywhere, but is more pronounced + in hilly countries. The scene changed, however, as one penetrated farther, + and little by little the influence of the soil gained ascendancy. As the + hills grew nearer together, enclosing the valley in a closer embrace, the + clearings gave way to the natural obduracy of the soil. A little farther + on they disappeared entirely. At the foot of one of the bluffs which + bordered with its granite bands the highest plateau of the mountain, the + forest rolled victoriously down to the banks of the river. + </p> + <p> + Now came patches of forest, like solid battalions of infantry; sometimes + solitary trees appeared, as if distributed by chance upon the grassy + slopes, or scaling the summit of the steepest rocks like a body of bold + sharpshooters. A little, unfrequented road, if one can judge from the + scarcity of tracks, ran alongside the banks of the stream, climbing up and + down hills; overcoming every obstacle, it stretched out in almost a + straight line. One might compare it to those strong characters who mark + out a course in life and imperturbably follow it. The river, on the + contrary, like those docile and compliant minds that bend to agreeable + emergencies, described graceful curves, obeying thus the caprices of the + soil which served as its bed. + </p> + <p> + At a first glance, the young man who was walking alone in the midst of + this picturesque country seemed to have nothing remarkable in his dress; a + straw hat, a blue blouse and linen trousers composed his costume. It would + have been very natural to take him for an Alsatian peasant returning to + his village through the Vosges’s rough pathways; but a more attentive + glance quickly dispelled this conjecture. There is something in the way in + which a person wears the plainest costume which betrays the real man, no + matter how he may be clothed. Thus, nothing could be more modest than this + traveller’s blouse, but the absence on collar and sleeves of the + arabesques in white or red thread, the pride of all village dandies, was + sufficient for one to realize that this was not a fancy costume. + </p> + <p> + His expressive, but not handsome face was dark, it is true, but it did not + look as if wind or sun had contributed to its complexion; it seemed rather + to have lost by a sedentary life something of the southern carnation, + which had ended by blending these warmer tints into a dead uniform pallor. + Finally, if, as one may suppose after different diagnoses, this person had + the slightest desire to play the role of Tyrcis or Amintas, his white + hand, as carefully cared for as a pretty woman’s, would have been + sufficient to betray him. It was evident that the man was above his + costume; a rare thing! The lion’s ears pierced the ass’s skin this time. + </p> + <p> + It was three o’clock in the afternoon; the sky, which had been overcast + all the morning, had assumed, within a few moments, a more sombre aspect; + large clouds were rapidly moving from south to north, rolled one over + another by an ominous wind. So the traveller, who had just entered the + wildest part of the valley, seemed very little disposed to admire its fine + vegetation and romantic sites. Impatient to reach the end of his journey, + or fearing the approaching storm, he quickened his steps; but this pace + was not kept long. At the end of a few moments, having crossed a small + clearing, he found himself at the entrance of a lawn where the road + divided in two directions, one continuing to skirt the river banks, the + other, broader and better built, turning to the left into a winding + ravine. + </p> + <p> + Which of these two roads should he follow? He did not know. The profound + solitude of the place made him fear that he might not meet any one who + could direct him, when the sound of a psalm vigorously chanted reached his + ears from the distance. Soon it became more distinct, and he recognized + the words, ‘In exitu Israel de Egypto’, sung at the top of the lungs by a + voice so shrill that it would have irritated the larynx of any of the + sopranos at the Opera. Its vibrating but sharp tones resounded so clearly + in the dead silence of the forest that a number of stanzas were finished + before the pious musician came in sight. At last a drove of cattle + appeared through the trees which bordered the road on the left, walking + with a slow, grave step; they were driven by a little shepherd about nine + or ten years of age, who interrupted his song from time to time to + reassemble the members of his flock with heavy blows from his whip, thus + uniting temporal cares with those of a spiritual nature with a coolness + which the most important personages might have envied him. + </p> + <p> + “Which of these roads leads to Bergenheim?” called out the traveller when + they were near enough to speak to each other. + </p> + <p> + “Bergenheim!” repeated the child, taking off his cotton cap, which was + striped like a rainbow, and adding a few words in an unintelligible + Gallo-Germanic patois. + </p> + <p> + “You are not French, then?” asked the stranger, in a disappointed tone. + </p> + <p> + The shepherd raised his head proudly and replied: + </p> + <p> + “I am Alsatian, not French!” + </p> + <p> + The young man smiled at this trait of local patriotism so common then in + the beautiful province by the Rhine; then he thought that pantomime might + be necessary, so he pointed with his finger first at one road, then at the + other: + </p> + <p> + “There or there, Bergenheim?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + The child, in his turn, pointed silently with the tip of his whip to the + banks of the river, designating, at some distance on the other side, a + thicket of woods behind which a slight column of smoke was rising. + </p> + <p> + “The deuce!” murmured the stranger, “it seems that I have gone astray; if + the chateau is on the other side, where can I establish my ambuscade?” + </p> + <p> + The shepherd seemed to understand the traveller’s embarrassment. Gazing at + him with his intelligent blue eyes, he traced, with the tip of his toe in + the middle of the road, a furrow across which he rounded his whip like the + arch of a bridge; then he pointed a second time up the river. + </p> + <p> + “You are an honor to your country, young fellow,” exclaimed the stranger; + “there is the material in you to make one of Cooper’s redskins.” As he + said these words he threw a piece of money into the child’s cap and walked + rapidly away in the direction indicated. + </p> + <p> + The Alsatian stood motionless for a few moments with one hand in his blond + hair and his eyes fastened upon the piece of silver which shone like a + star in the bottom of his cap; when the one whom he considered as a model + of extraordinary generosity had disappeared behind the trees, he gave vent + to his joy by heavy blows from his whip upon the backs of the cattle, then + he resumed his way, singing in a still more triumphant tone: ‘Mantes + exultaverunt ut arites’, and jumping higher himself than all the hills and + rams in the Bible. + </p> + <p> + The young man had not walked more than five minutes before he recognized + the correctness of the directions he had received. The ground which he had + passed over was a field covered with clumps of low trees; it was easy to + see by its disc-like shape that it had been formed by successive alluvia, + at the expense of the other shore, which had been incessantly worn away by + the stream. This sort of flat, level peninsula was crossed in a straight + line by the road, which deviated from the river at the point where the two + roads came together again, like the cross and string of a bow at its + extremity. The trees, becoming thinner, revealed a perspective all the + more wonderful as it was unexpected. While the eye followed the widening + stream, which disappeared in the depths of a mountainous gorge, a new + prospect suddenly presented itself on the right upon the other shore. + </p> + <p> + A second valley, smaller than the first and in measure its vassal, formed + an amphitheatre the crest of which was bordered by a fringe of + perpendicular rocks as white as dried bones. Under this crown, which + rendered it almost inaccessible, the little valley was resplendent in its + wealth of evergreen trees, oaks with their knotty branches, and its fresh + green turf. + </p> + <p> + Taken as a whole, it was a foundation worthy of the picturesque edifice + which met one’s eye in the foreground, and at which the traveller gazed + with extreme interest. + </p> + <p> + At the junction of the two valleys stood an enormous building, half + manorial, half monastic in appearance. The shore formed, at this point, + for an extent of several hundred feet, a bluff whose edge plunged + vertically into the river. The chateau and its outbuildings rested upon + this solid base. The principal house was a large parallelogram of very old + construction, but which had evidently been almost entirely rebuilt at the + beginning of the sixteenth century. The stones, of grayish granite which + abounds in the Vosges, were streaked with blue and violet veins, and gave + the facade a sombre aspect, increased by the scarcity of windows, some of + which were ‘a la Palladio’, others almost as narrow as loop-holes. An + immense roof of red tile, darkened by rain, projected several feet over + the whole front, as is still to be seen in old cities in the North. Thanks + to this projecting weather-board, the apartments upon the upper floor were + shaded from the sun’s rays, like those persons who have weak eyes and who + protect them from a strong light by wearing a green shade. + </p> + <p> + The view which this melancholy dwelling presented from the place where the + traveller had first seen it, was one which made it appear to the best + advantage; it seemed, from this point, to come immediately out of the + river, built as it was upon the very curb of the bluffs, at this place at + least thirty feet high. This elevation, added to that of the building, + effaced the lack of proportion of the roof and gave to the whole a most + imposing appearance; it seemed as if the rocks were a part of the building + to which it served as foundation, for the stones had ended by assuming the + same color, and it would have been difficult to discover the junction of + man’s work and that of nature, had it not been outlined by a massive iron + balcony running across the entire length of the first story, whence one + could enjoy the pleasure of line-fishing. Two round towers with pointed + roofs stood at each corner of the facade and seemed to gaze with proud + satisfaction at their own reflection in the water. + </p> + <p> + A long line of sycamore-trees skirted the banks of the river, beginning + from the foot of the chateau, and forming the edge of a park which + extended to the back of the double valley. A little wooden bridge + connected this sort of avenue with the road the traveller had just passed + over; but the latter did not seem disposed to profit by this silent + invitation to which large raindrops gave more emphasis. He was so absorbed + in his meditation that, to arouse him, it needed the sound of a gruff + voice behind him uttering these words: + </p> + <p> + “That is what I call an ugly castle! It is hardly as good as our common + country houses around Marseilles.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger turned quickly around and found himself face to face with a + man wearing a gray cap and carrying his coat upon his shoulder, as workmen + do in the South. He held in his hand a knotty stick which had been + recently cut. The newcomer had a swarthy complexion, harsh features, and + deep-set eyes which gave his face an ugly, false expression. + </p> + <p> + “I said an ugly castle,” continued he. “However, the cage is made for the + bird.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems, then, that you do not like its master?” said the traveller. + </p> + <p> + “The master!” repeated the workman, seizing hold of his stick with a + threatening air, “Monsieur le Baron de Bergenheim, as they say! He is rich + and a nobleman, and I am only a poor carpenter. Well, then, if you stay + here a few days, you will witness a comical ceremony; I shall make this + brigand repent.” + </p> + <p> + “Brigand!” exclaimed the stranger, in a surprised tone. “What has he done + to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, brigand! you may tell him so from me. But, by the way,” continued + the workman, surveying his companion from head to foot with a searching, + defiant air, “do you happen to be the carpenter who is coming from + Strasbourg? In that case, I have a few words to say to you. Lambernier + does not allow any one to take the bread out of his mouth in that way; do + you understand?” + </p> + <p> + The young man seemed very little moved by this declaration. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a carpenter,” said he, smiling, “and I have no wish for your + work.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, you do not look as if you had pushed a plane very often. It seems + that in your business one does not spoil one’s hands. You are a workman + about as much as I am pope.” + </p> + <p> + This remark made the one to whom it was addressed feel in as bad a humor + as an author does when he finds a grammatical error in one of his books. + </p> + <p> + “So you work at the chateau, then,” said he, finally, to change the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “For six months I have worked in that shanty,” replied the workman; “I am + the one who carved the new woodwork, and I will say it is well done. Well, + this great wild boar of a Bergenheim turned me out of the house yesterday + as if I had been one of his dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “He doubtless had his reasons.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I will crush him—reasons! Damn it! They told him I + talked too often with his wife’s maid and quarrelled with the servants, a + pack of idlers! Did he not forbid my putting my foot upon his land? I am + upon his land now; let him come and chase me off; let him come, he will + see how I shall receive him. Do you see this stick? I have just cut it in + his own woods to use it on himself!” + </p> + <p> + The young man no longer listened to the workman; his eyes were turned + toward the castle, whose slightest details he studied, as if he hoped that + in the end the stone would turn into glass and let him see the interior. + If this curiosity had any other object than the architecture and form of + the building it was not gratified. No human figure came to enliven this + sad, lonely dwelling. All the windows were closed, as if the house were + uninhabited. The baying of dogs, probably imprisoned in their kennel, was + the only sound which came to break the strange silence, and the distant + thunder, with its dull rumbling, repeated by the echoes, responded + plaintively, and gave a lugubrious character to the scene. + </p> + <p> + “When one speaks of the devil he appears,” said the workman, suddenly, + with an emotion which gave the lie to his recent bravado; “if you wish to + see this devil incarnate of a Bergenheim, just turn your head. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + At these words he leaped a ditch at the left of the road and disappeared + in the bushes. The stranger also seemed to feel an impression very like + that of Lambernier’s as he saw a man on horseback advancing on a gallop. + Instead of waiting for him, he darted into the field which descended to + the river, and hid behind a group of trees. + </p> + <p> + The Baron, who was not more than thirty-three years of age, had one of + those energetic, handsome faces whose type seems to belong particularly to + old military families. His bright, blond hair and clear, blue eyes + contrasted strongly with his ruddy complexion; his aspect was severe, but + noble and imposing, in spite of his negligent dress, which showed that + indifference to matters of personal attire which becomes habitual with + country lords. His tall figure was beginning to grow stout, and that + increased his athletic appearance. He sat very erect in his saddle, and + from the way in which he straightened out his long legs against the sides + of his beast, one suspected that he could, if necessary, repeat the + Marshal de Saxe’s feats of skill. He stopped his horse suddenly at the + very spot which the two men had just vacated and called out in a voice + which would startle a regiment of cuirassiers: + </p> + <p> + “Here, Lambernier!” + </p> + <p> + The carpenter hesitated a moment, at this imperative call, between the + fear which he could not overcome and shame at fleeing from a single man in + the presence of a witness; finally this last feeling triumphed. He + returned to the edge of the road without saying a word, and stationed + himself in an insolent way face to face with the Baron, with his hat drawn + down over his ears, and grasped through precaution the knotty stick which + served him as a weapon. + </p> + <p> + “Lambernier,” said the master of the castle, in a severe tone, “your + account was settled yesterday; was it not paid in full? Is anything due + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I ask nothing of you,” replied the workman, brusquely. + </p> + <p> + “In that case, why are you wandering about my place when I forbade you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am upon the highway, nobody can prevent me from passing there.” + </p> + <p> + “You are upon my land, and you came out of my woods,” replied the Baron, + emphasizing his words with the firmness of a man who would permit no + violation of his rights as a landowner. + </p> + <p> + “The ground upon which I walk is mine,” said the workman, in his turn, as + he struck the end of his stick upon the ground as if to take possession. + This gesture attracted Bergenheim’s attention, and his eyes flashed with a + sudden light at the sight of the stick which Lambernier held. + </p> + <p> + “You scoundrel!” he exclaimed, “you probably regard my trees also as your + own. Where did you cut that stick?” + </p> + <p> + “Go and find out,” said the workman, accompanying his reply with a + flourish of the stick. + </p> + <p> + The Baron coolly dismounted, threw the bridle over his horse’s neck, + walked up to the workman, who had taken the position of a practised + pugilist to receive him, and, without giving him time to strike, he + disarmed him with one hand by a blow which would have been sufficient to + uproot the beech rod before it was metamorphosed into a club; with the + other hand he seized the man by the collar and gave him a shaking that it + was as impossible to struggle against as if it had been caused by a + steam-engine. Obeying this irresistible force, in spite of his kicking, + Lambernier described a dozen circles around his adversary, while the + latter set these off with some of the hardest blows from green wood that + ever chastised an insolent fellow. This gymnastic exercise ended by a + sleight-of-hand trick, which, after making the carpenter pirouette for the + last time, sent him rolling head-first into a ditch, the bottom of which, + fortunately for him, was provided with a bed of soft mud. When the + punishment was over, Bergenheim remounted his horse as tranquilly as he + had dismounted it, and continued his way toward the chateau. + </p> + <p> + The young man, in the midst of the thicket where he was concealed, had + lost no detail of this rural scene. He could not help having a feeling of + admiration for this energetic representative of the feudal ages who, with + no fear of any court of justice or other bourgeois inventions, had thus + exerted over his own domains the summary justice in force in Eastern + countries. + </p> + <p> + “France has thrashed Gaul,” said he, smiling to himself; “if all our men + had this Bergenheim’s iron fist many things determined upon to-day might + be called in question. If I ever have the slightest difficulty with this + Milo de Crotona, he may be sure I shall not choose pugilism as my mode of + discussion.” + </p> + <p> + The storm now burst forth in all its fury. A dark curtain covered the + whole valley, and the rain fell in torrents. The Baron put spurs to his + horse, crossed the bridge and, entering the sycamore avenue, was soon out + of sight. Without paying any attention to Lambernier, who was uttering + imprecations at the bottom of the ditch, into which he was sinking deeper + and deeper, the stranger went to seek a less illusive shelter than the + trees under which he had taken his position; but at this moment his + attention was attracted to one side of the castle. A window, or rather a + glass door, just then opened upon the balcony, and a young woman in a + rose-colored negligee appeared upon the dark facade. It would be + impossible to imagine anything more fresh or charming than this apparition + at such a moment. Leaning upon the balustrade, the young woman rested her + face upon a hand which was as white as a lily, and her finger smoothed + with a mechanical caress the ringlets of chestnut hair that lay upon her + forehead, while her large brown eyes gazed into the depths of the clouds + from which the lightning was flashing, and with which they vied in + brilliancy. A poet would have said it was Miranda evoked by the tempest. + </p> + <p> + The stranger parted the branches before him to get a better view; at the + same instant he was blinded by a terrible flash which lighted the whole + valley and was immediately followed by a terrific crash. When he opened + his eyes the chateau which he believed to be at the bottom of the river + stood still upright, solemn, and firm as before; but the lady in the + rose-colored gown had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE CASTLE OF BERGENHEIM + </h2> + <p> + The appearance of the room into which the lady had precipitately entered, + when startled by the thunder, corresponded with the edifice to which it + belonged. It was a very large room, longer than it was wide, and lighted + by three windows, the middle one of which opened from top to bottom like a + door and led out upon the balcony. The woodwork and ceiling were in + chestnut, which time had polished and a skilful hand had ornamented with a + profusion of allegorical figures. The beauty of this work of art was + almost entirely concealed by a very remarkable decoration which covered + every side of the room, consisting of one of the most glorious collections + of family portraits which a country chateau of the nineteenth century + could offer. + </p> + <p> + The first of these portraits hung opposite the windows at the right of the + entrance door and was that of a chevalier in full armor, whose teeth + gleamed from under his long moustache like those of an untamed tiger. + Beginning with this formidable figure, which bore the date 1247, forty + others of about the same dimensions were placed in order according to + their dates. It seemed as if each period had left its mark upon those of + the personages it had seen live and die, and had left something of its own + character there. + </p> + <p> + There were more gallant cavaliers cut after the same pattern as the first. + Their stern, harsh faces, red beards, and broad, square military shoulders + told that by swordthrusts and broken lances they had founded the nobility + of their race. An heroic preface to this family biography! A rough and + warlike page of the Middle Ages! After these proud men-of-arms came + several figures of a less ferocious aspect, but not so imposing. In these + portraits of the fifteenth century beards had disappeared with the sword. + In those wearing caps and velvet toques, silk robes and heavy gold chains + supporting a badge of the same metal, one recognized lords in full and + tranquil possession of the fiefs won by their fathers, landowners who had + degenerated a little and preferred mountain life in a manor to the chances + of a more hazardous existence. These pacific gentlemen were, for the most + part, painted with the left hand gloved and resting upon the hip; the + right one was bare, a sort of token of disarmament which one might take + for a painter’s epigram. Some of them had allowed their favorite dogs to + share the honors of the picture. All in this group indicated that this + branch of the family had many points of resemblance with the more + illustrious faces. It was the period of idle kings. + </p> + <p> + A half dozen solemn personages with gold-braided hats and long red robes + bordered with ermine, and wearing starched ruffles, occupied one corner of + the parlor near the windows. These worthy advisers of the Dukes of + Lorraine explained the way in which the masters of the chateau had + awakened from the torpor in which they had been plunged for several + generations, in order to participate in the affairs of their country and + enter a more active sphere. + </p> + <p> + Here the portraits assumed the proportions of history. Did not this + branch, descended from warlike stock, seem like a fragment taken from the + European annals? Was it not a symbolical image of the progress of + civilization, of regular legislation struggling against barbaric customs? + Thanks to these respectable counsellors and judges, one might reverse the + motto: ‘Non solum toga’, in favor of their race. But it did not seem as if + these bearded ancestors looked with much gratitude upon this parliamentary + flower added to their feudal crest. They appeared to look down from the + height of their worm-eaten frames upon their enrobed descendants with that + disdainful smile with which the peers of France used to greet men of law + the first time they were called to sit by their side, after being for so + long a time at their feet. + </p> + <p> + In the space between the windows and upon the remaining woodwork was a + crowd of military men, with here and there an Abbe with cross and mitre, a + Commander of Malta, and a solemn Canon, sterile branches of this + genealogical tree. Several among the military ones wore sashes and plumes + of the colors of Lorraine; others, even before the union of this province + to France, had served the latter country; there were lieutenant-colonels + of infantry and cavalry; some dressed in blue coats lined with buff serge + and little round patches of black plush, which served as the uniform for + the dragoons of the Lorraine legion. + </p> + <p> + Last of all was a young man with an agreeable face, who smiled + superciliously from under a vast wig of powdered hair; a rose was in the + buttonhole of his green cloth pelisse with orange facings, a red + sabrecache hung against his boots a little lower than the hilt of his + sabre. The costume represented a sprightly officer of the Royal Nassau + hussars. The portrait was hung on the left of the entrance door and only + separated by it from his great-grandfather of 1247, whom he might have + assisted, had these venerable portraits taken some night a fancy to + descend from their frames to execute a dance such as Hoffmann dreamed. + </p> + <p> + These two persons were the alpha and the omega of this genealogical tree, + the two extreme links of the chain-one, the root buried in the sands of + time; the other, the branch which had blossomed at the top. Fate had + created a tragical resemblance between these two lives, separated by more + than five centuries. The chevalier in coat-of-mail had been killed in the + battle of the Mansourah during the first crusade of St. Louis. The young + man with the supercilious smile had mounted the scaffold during the Reign + of Terror, holding between his lips a rose, his usual decoration for his + coat. The history of the French nobility was embodied in these two men, + born in blood, who had died in blood. + </p> + <p> + Large gilded frames of Gothic style surrounded all these portraits. At the + right, on the bottom of each picture was painted a little escutcheon + having for its crest a baronial coronet and for supports two wild men + armed with clubs. The field was red; with its three bulls’ heads in + silver, it announced to people well versed in heraldic art that they had + before them the lineaments of noble and powerful lords, squires of + Reisnach-Bergenheim, lords of Reisnach in Suabia, barons of the Holy + Empire, lords of Sapois, Labresse, Gerbamont, etc., counts of Bergenheim, + the latter title granted them by Louis XV, chevaliers of Lorraine, etc., + etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + This ostentatious enumeration was not needed in order to recognize the + kindred of all these noble personages. Had they been mingled with other + portraits, a careful observer would have promptly distinguished and + reunited them, so pronounced were the family features common to them all. + The furniture of the room was not unworthy of these proud defunct ones. + High-backed chairs and enormous armchairs, dating from the time of Louis + XIII; more modern sofas, which had been made to harmonize with the older + furniture, filled the room. They were covered with flowered tapestry in + thousands of shades, which must have busied the white hands of the ladies + of the house for two or three generations past. + </p> + <p> + The row of portraits was interrupted on one side by a large fireplace of + grayish granite, which was too high for one to hang a mirror above or to + place ornaments upon its mantel. Opposite was an ebony console inlaid with + ivory, upon which was placed one of those elegant clocks whose delicate + and original chased work has not been eclipsed by any modern workmanship. + Two large Japanese vases accompanied it; the whole was reflected in an + antique mirror which hung above the console; its edges were bevelled, + doubtless in order to cause one to admire the thickness of the glass. + </p> + <p> + It would be impossible to imagine a stronger contrast than that of this + Gothic room with the lady in the rose-colored gown who had just entered it + so precipitately. The fire upon the hearth threw a warm light over the old + portraits, and it was heightened by the heavy, red damask curtains which + hung by the windows. The light sometimes softened, sometimes revivified by + some sudden flash of the flames, glanced over the scowling faces and red + beards, enlivening the eyes and giving a supernatural animation to those + lifeless canvases. One would have said that the cold, grave faces looked + with curiosity at the young woman with graceful movements and cool + garments, whom Aladdin’s genii seemed to have transported from the most + elegant boudoir on the Chaussee d’Antin, and thrown, still frightened, + into the midst of this strange assembly. + </p> + <p> + “You are crazy, Clemence, to leave that window open!” said at this moment + an old voice issuing from an armchair placed in a corner near the + fireplace. + </p> + <p> + The person who broke the charm of this silent scene was a woman of sixty + or seventy years of age, according to the gallantry of the calculator. It + was easy to judge that she was tall and thin as she lay, rather than sat, + in her chair with its back lowered down. She was dressed in a + yellowish-brown gown. A false front as black as jet, surmounted by a cap + with poppy-colored ribbons, framed her face. She had sharp, withered + features, and the brilliancy of her primitive freshness had been converted + into a blotched and pimpled complexion which affected above all her nose + and cheek-bones, but whose ardor had been dimmed only a trifle by age. + There was something about the whole face as crabbed, sour, and unkind as + if she had daily bathed it in vinegar. One could read old maid in every + feature! Besides, a slight observation of her ways would have destroyed + all lingering doubt in this respect. + </p> + <p> + A large, coffee-colored pug-dog was lying before the fire. This + interesting animal served as a footstool for his mistress, stretched in + her easy-chair, and recalled to mind the lions which sleep at the foot of + chevaliers in their Gothic tombs. As a pug-dog and an old maid pertain to + each other, it was only necessary, in order to divine this venerable + lady’s state, to read the name upon the golden circlet which served as a + collar for the dog: “Constance belongs to Mademoiselle de Corandeuil.” + </p> + <p> + Before the younger lady, who was leaning upon the back of a chair, seeming + to breathe with difficulty, had time to reply, she received a second + injunction. + </p> + <p> + “But, aunt,” said she, at last, “it was a horrible crash! Did you not hear + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so deaf as that yet,” replied the old maid. “Shut that window; + do you not know that currents of air attract lightning?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence obeyed, dropping the curtain to shut out the flashes of lightning + which continued to dart through the heavens; she then approached the + fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “Since you are so afraid of lightning,” said her aunt; “which, by the way, + is perfectly ridiculous in a Corandeuil, what induced you to go out upon + the balcony? The sleeve of your gown is wet. That is the way one gets + cold; afterward, there is nothing but an endless array of syrups and + drugs. You ought to change your gown and put on something warmer. Who + would ever think of dressing like that in such weather as this?” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, aunt, it is not cold. It is because you have a habit of + always being near the fire—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! habit! when you are my age you will not hint at such a thing. Now, + everything goes wonderfully well; you never listen to my advice—you + go out in the wind and rain with that flighty Aline and your husband, who + has no more sense than his sister; you will pay for it later. Open the + curtains, I pray; the storm is over, and I wish to read the Gazette.” + </p> + <p> + The young woman obeyed a second time and stood with her forehead pressed + against the glass. The distant rumbling of the thunder announced the end + of the storm; but a few flashes still traversed the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt,” said she, after a moment’s silence, “come and look at the Montigny + rocks; when the lightning strikes them they look like a file of silver + columns or a procession of ghosts.” + </p> + <p> + “What a romantic speech,” growled the old lady, never taking her eyes from + her paper. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you I am not romantic the least in the world,” replied Clemence. + “I simply find the storm a distraction, and here, you know, there is no + great choice of pleasures.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you find it dull?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aunt, horribly so!” At these words, pronounced with a heartfelt + accent, the young woman dropped into an armchair. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil took off her eye-glasses, put the paper upon + the table and gazed for several moments at her pretty niece’s face, which + was tinged with a look of deep melancholy. She then straightened herself + up in her chair, and, leaning forward, asked in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Have you had any trouble with your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “If so, I should not be so bored,” replied Clemence, in a gay tone, which + she repented immediately, for she continued more calmly: + </p> + <p> + “No, aunt; Christian is kind, very kind; he is very much attached to me, + and full of good-humor and attentions. You have seen how he has allowed me + to arrange my apartments to suit myself, even taking down the partition + and enlarging the windows; and yet, you know how much he clings to + everything that is old about the house. He tries to do everything for my + pleasure. Did he not go to Strasbourg the other day to buy a pony for me, + because I thought Titania was too skittish? It would be impossible to show + greater kindness.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband,” suddenly interrupted Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, for she + held the praise of others in sovereign displeasure, “is a Bergenheim like + all the Bergenheims present, past, and future, including your little + sister-in-law, who appears more as if she had been brought up with boys + than at the ‘Sacred Heart.’ He is a worthy son of his father there,” said + she, pointing to one of the portraits near the young Royal-Nassau officer; + “and he was the most brutal, unbearable, and detestable of all the + dragoons in Lorraine; so much so that he got into three quarrels at Nancy + in one month, and at Metz, over a game of checkers, he killed the poor + Vicomte de Megrigny, who was worth a hundred of him and danced so well! + Some one described Bergenheim as being ‘proud as a peacock, as stubborn as + a mule, and as furious as a lion!’ Ugly race! ugly race! What I say to you + now, Clemence, is to excuse your husband’s faults, for it would be time + lost to try to correct them. However, all men are alike; and since you are + Madame de Bergenheim, you must accept your fate and bear it as well as + possible. And then, if you have your troubles, you still have your good + aunt to whom you can confide them and who will not allow you to be + tyrannized over. I will speak to your husband.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence saw, from the first words of this tirade, that she must arm + herself with resignation; for anything which concerned the Bergenheims + aroused one of the hobbies which the old maid rode with a most complacent + spite; so she settled herself back in her chair like a person who would at + least be comfortable while she listened to a tiresome discourse, and + busied herself during this lecture caressing with the tip of a very + shapely foot the top of one of the andirons. + </p> + <p> + “But, aunt,” said she at last, when the tirade was over, and she gave a + rather drawling expression to her voice, “I can not understand why you + have taken this idea into your head that Christian renders me unhappy. I + repeat it, it is impossible that one should be kinder to me than he, and, + on my side, I have the greatest respect and friendship for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, if he is such a pearl of husbands, if you live so much like + turtle-doves-and, to tell the truth, I do not believe a word of it—what + causes this ennui of which you complain and which has been perfectly + noticeable for some time? When I say ennui, it is more than that; it is + sadness, it is grief? You grow thinner every day; you are as pale as a + ghost; just at this moment, your complexion is gone; you will end by being + a regular fright. They say that it is the fashion to be pale nowadays; a + silly notion, indeed, but it will not last, for complexion makes the + woman.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady said this like a person who had her reasons for not liking + pale complexions, and who gladly took pimples for roses. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim bowed her head as if to acquiesce in this decision, + and then resumed in her drawling voice: + </p> + <p> + “I know that I am very unreasonable, and I am often vexed with myself for + having so little control over my feelings, but it is beyond my strength. I + have a tired sensation, a disgust for everything, something which I can + not overcome. It is an inexplicable physical and moral languor, for which, + for this reason, I see no remedy. I am weary and I suffer; I am sure it + will end in my being ill. Sometimes I wish I were dead. However, I have + really no reason to be unhappy. I suppose I am happy—I ought to be + happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, I can not understand in the least the women of today. Formerly, + upon exciting occasions, we had a good nervous attack and all was over; + the crisis passed, we became amiable again, put on rouge and went to a + ball. Now it is languor, ennui, stomach troubles—all imagination and + humbug! The men are just as bad, and they call it spleen! Spleen! a new + discovery, an English importation! Fine things come to us from England; to + begin with, the constitutional government! All this is perfectly + ridiculous. As for you, Clemence, you ought to put an end to such + childishness. Two months ago, in Paris, you did not have any of the rest + that you enjoy here. I had serious reasons for wishing to delay my + departure; my apartment to refurnish, my neuralgia which still troubles me—and + Constance, who had just been in the hands of the doctor, was hardly in a + condition to travel, poor creature! You would listen to nothing; we had to + submit to your caprices, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “But, aunt, you admitted yourself that it was the proper thing for me to + do, to join my husband. Was it not enough, and too much, to have left him + to pass the entire winter alone here while I was dancing in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “It was very proper, of course, and I do not blame you. But why does the + very thing you so much desired two months ago bore you so terribly now? In + Paris you talked all the time of Bergenheim, longed only for Bergenheim, + you had duties to fulfil, you wished to be with your husband; you bothered + and wore me out with your conjugal love. When back at Bergenheim, you + dream and sigh for Paris. Do not shake your head; I am an old aunt to whom + you pay no heed, but who sees clearly yet. Will you do me the favor to + tell me what it is that you regret in Paris at this time of the year, when + there are no balls or parties, and not one human being worth visiting, for + all the people you know are in the country? Is it because—” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil did not finish her sentence, but she put a + severity into these three words which seemed to condense all the + quintessence of prudery that a celibacy of sixty years could coagulate in + an old maid’s heart. + </p> + <p> + Clemence raised her eyes to her aunt’s face as if to demand an + explanation. + </p> + <p> + It was such a calm, steady glance that the latter could not help being + impressed by it. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said she, softening her voice, “there is no necessity for putting + on such queenly airs; we are here alone, and you know that I am a kind + aunt to you. Now, then, speak freely—have you left anything or any + person in Paris, the remembrance of which makes your sojourn here more + tiresome than it really is? Any of your adorers of the winter?” + </p> + <p> + “What an idea, aunt! Did I have any adorers?” exclaimed Madame de + Bergenheim, quickly, as if trying to conceal by a smile the rosy flush + that mounted to her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “And what if you should have some, child?” continued the old maid, to whom + curiosity lent an unaccustomed coaxing accent to her voice, “where would + be the harm? Is it forbidden to please? When one is of good birth, must + one not live in society and hold one’s position there? One need not bury + one’s self in a desert at twenty-three years of age, and you really are + charming enough to inspire love; you understand, I do not say, to + experience it; but when one is young and pretty conquests are made almost + unwittingly. You are not the first of the family to whom that has + happened; you are a Corandeuil. Now, then, my good Clemence, what troubled + heart is pining for you in Paris? Is it Monsieur de Mauleon?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Mauleon!” exclaimed the young woman, bursting into laughter; + “he, a heart! and a troubled one, too! Oh, aunt, you do him honor! + Monsieur de Mauleon, who is past forty-five years old and wears stays! an + audacious man who squeezes his partners’ hands in the dance and looks at + them with passionate glances! Oh! Monsieur de Mauleon!” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil sanctioned by a slight grimace of her thin lips + her niece’s burst of gayety, when, with one hand upon her heart, she + rolled her sparkling eyes in imitation of the languishing air of her + unfortunate adorer. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is Monsieur d’Arzenac?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur d’Arzenac is certainly very nice; he has perfect manners; it may + be that he did not disdain to chat with me; on my side, I found his + conversation very entertaining; but you may rest assured that he did not + think of me nor I of him. Besides, you know that he is engaged to marry + Mademoiselle de la Neuville.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Gerfaut?” continued Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, with the + persistency with which aged people follow an idea, and as if determined to + pass in review all the young men of their acquaintance until she had + discovered her niece’s secret. + </p> + <p> + The latter was silent a moment before replying. + </p> + <p> + “How can you think of such a thing, aunt?” said she at last, “a man with + such a bad reputation, who writes books that one hardly dares read, and + plays that it’s almost a sin to witness! Did you not hear Madame de + Pontivers say that a young woman who cared for her reputation would permit + his visits very rarely?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Pontivers is a prude, whom I can not endure, with her show of + little, grimaces and her pretentious, outrageous mock-modesty. Did she not + take it into her head this winter to constitute me her chaperon? I gave + her to understand that a widow forty years old was quite old enough to go + about alone! She has a mania for fearing that she may be compromised. The + idea of turning up her nose at Monsieur de Gerfaut! What presumption! He + certainly is too clever ever to solicit the honor of being bored to death + in her house; for he is clever, very clever. I never could understand your + dislike for him, nor your haughty manner of treating him; especially, + during the latter part of our stay in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “One is not mistress of one’s dislikes or affections, aunt. But to reply + to your questions, I will say that you may rest assured that none of these + gentlemen, nor any of those whom you might name, has the slightest effect + upon my state of mind. I am bored because it probably is my nature to need + distractions, and there are none in this deserted place. It is an + involuntary disagreeableness, for which I reproach myself and which I hope + will pass away. Rest assured, that the root of the evil does not lie in my + heart.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil understood by the cold and rather dry tone in + which these words were spoken that her niece wished to keep her secret, if + she had one; she could not prevent a gesture of anger as she saw her + advances thus repelled, but felt that she was no wiser than when she began + the conversation. She manifested her disappointment by pushing the dog + aside with her foot—the poor thing was perfectly innocent!—and + in a cross tone, which was much more familiar than her former coaxing one, + she continued: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, since I am wrong, since your husband adores you and you him, + since, to sum it all up, your heart is perfectly tranquil and free, your + conduct is devoid of common-sense, and I advise you to change it. I warn + you that all this hypochondria, paleness, and languor are caprices which + are very disagreeable to others. There is a Provence proverb which says: + Vaillance de Blacas, prudence de Pontevez, caprice de Corandeuil. If there + was not such a saying, it should be created for you, for you have + something incomprehensible enough in your character to make a saint swear. + If anybody should know you, it is I, who brought you up. I do not wish to + reproach you, but you gave me trouble enough; you were a most wayward, + capricious, and fantastic creature, a spoiled child—” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt,” interrupted Clemence, with heightened color in her pale cheeks, + “you have told me of my faults often enough for me to know them, and, if + they were not corrected, it was not your fault, for you never spared me + scoldings. If I had not been so unfortunate as to lose my mother when I + was a baby, I should not have given you so much trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Tears came into the young woman’s eyes, but she had enough control over + herself to keep them from streaming down her burning cheeks. Taking a + journal from the table, she opened it, in order to conceal her emotion and + to put an end to this conversation, which had become painful to her. + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, on her side, carefully replaced her + eye-glasses upon her nose, and, solemnly stretching herself upon her + chair, she turned over the leaves of the ‘Gazette de France,’ which she + had neglected so long. + </p> + <p> + Silence reigned for some moments in the room. The aunt apparently read the + paper very attentively. Her niece sat motionless, with her eyes fastened + upon the yellow cover of the last number of ‘La Mode,’ which had chanced + to fall into her hands. She aroused herself at last from her revery and + carelessly turned over the leaves of the review in a manner which showed + how little interest she felt in it. As she turned the first page a + surprised cry escaped her, and her eyes were fastened upon the pamphlet + with eager curiosity. Upon the frontispiece, where the Duchesse de Berry’s + coat-of-arms is engraved, and in the middle of the shield, which was left + empty at this time by the absence of the usual fleurs de lys, was sketched + with a pencil a bird whose head was surmounted by a baron’s coronet. + </p> + <p> + Curious to know what could have caused her niece so much surprise, + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil stretched out her neck and gazed for an instant + upon the page without seeing, at first, anything extraordinary, but + finally her glance rested upon the armorial bearings, and she discovered + the new feature added to the royal Bourbon coat-of-arms. + </p> + <p> + “A cock!” exclaimed she, after a moment’s reflection; “a cock upon + Madame’s shield! What can that mean, ‘bon Dieu’! and it is not engraved + nor lithographed; it is drawn with a pencil.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not a cock, it is a crowned gerfaut,” said Madame de Bergenheim. + </p> + <p> + “A gerfaut! How do you know what a gerfaut is? At Corandeuil, in your + grandfather’s time, there was a falconry, and I have seen gerfauts there, + but you—I tell you it is a cock, an old French cock; ugly thing! + What you take for a coronet—and it really does resemble one—is + a badly drawn cock’s comb. How did this horrid creature come to be there? + I should like to know if such pretty tricks are permitted at the + postoffice. People protest against the ‘cabinet noir’, but it is a hundred + times worse if one is permitted to outrage with impunity peaceable + families in their own homes. I mean to find out who has played this trick. + Will you be so kind as to ring the bell?” + </p> + <p> + “It really is very strange!” said Madame de Bergenheim, pulling the + bell-rope with a vivacity which showed that she shared, if not the + indignation, at least the curiosity of her aunt. + </p> + <p> + A servant in green livery appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Who went to Remiremont yesterday for the newspapers?” asked Mademoiselle + de Corandeuil. + </p> + <p> + “It was Pere Rousselet, Mademoiselle,” replied the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Monsieur de Bergenheim?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron is playing billiards with Mademoiselle Aline.” + </p> + <p> + “Send Leonard Rousselet here.” + </p> + <p> + And Mademoiselle de Corandeuil settled herself back in her chair with the + dignity of a chancellor about to hold court. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. A DIVIDED HOUSEHOLD + </h2> + <p> + The servants in the castle of Bergenheim formed a family whose members + were far from living in harmony. The Baron managed his household himself, + and employed a large number of day-laborers, farm servants, and + kitchen-girls, whom the liveried servants treated with great disdain. The + rustics, on their side, resisted these privileged lackeys and called them + “coxcombs” and “Parisians,” sometimes accompanying these remarks with the + most expressive blows. Between these tribes of sworn enemies a third + class, much less numerous, found them selves in a critical position; these + were the two servants brought by Mademoiselle de Corandeuil. It was + fortunate for them that their mistress liked large, vigorous men, and had + chosen them for their broad, military shoulders; but for that it would + have been impossible for them to come out of their daily quarrels safe and + sound. + </p> + <p> + The question of superiority between the two households had been the first + apple of discord; a number of personal quarrels followed to inflame them. + They fought for their colors the whole time; the Bergenheim livery was + red, the Corandeuil green. There were two flags; each exalted his own + while throwing that of his adversaries in the mud. Greenhorn and crab were + jokes; cucumber and lobster were insults. + </p> + <p> + Such were the gracious terms exchanged every day between the two parties. + In the midst of this civil war, which was carefully concealed from their + masters’ eyes, whose severity they feared, lived one rather singular + personage. Leonard Rousselet, Pere Rousselet, as he was generally called, + was an old peasant who, disheartened with life, had made various efforts + to get out of his sphere, but had never succeeded in doing so. Having been + successively hairdresser, sexton, school-teacher, nurse, and gardener, he + had ended, when sixty years old, by falling back to the very point whence + he started. He had no particular employment in M. de Bergenheim’s house; + he went on errands, cared for the gardens, and doctored the mules and + horses; he was a tall man, about as much at ease in his clothing as a dry + almond in its shell. A long, dark, yellow coat usually hung about the + calves of his legs, which were covered with long, blue woollen stockings, + and looked more like vine-poles than human legs; a conformation which + furnished daily jokes for the other servants, to which the old man deigned + no response save a disdainful smile, grumbling through his teeth, + “Menials, peasants without education.” This latter speech expressed the + late gardener’s scorn, for it had been his greatest grief to pass for an + uneducated man; and he had gathered from his various conditions a + singularly dignified and pretentious way of speaking. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his self-confidence, it was not without some emotion that + Leonard Rousselet responded to this call to appear in the drawing-room + before the person he most feared in the chateau. His bearing showed this + feeling when he presented himself at the drawing-room door, where he stood + as grave and silent as Banquo’s ghost. Constance arose at sight of this + fantastic figure, barked furiously and darted toward a pair of legs for + which she seemed to share the irreverence of the liveried servants; but + the texture of the blue stocking and the flesh which covered the tibia + were rather too hard morsels for the dowager’s teeth; she was obliged to + give up the attack and content herself with impotent barks, while the old + man, who would gladly have given a month’s wages to break her jaw with the + tip of his, boot, caressed her with his hand, saying, “Softly, pretty + dear! softly, pretty little creature!” in a hypocritical tone. + </p> + <p> + This courtier-like conduct touched the old lady’s heart and softened the + severe look upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “Stop your noise, Constance,” said she, “lie down beside your mistress. + Rousselet, come nearer.” + </p> + <p> + The old man obeyed, walking across the floor with reverential bows, and + taking a position like a soldier presenting arms. + </p> + <p> + “You were the one,” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, “who was sent to + Remiremont yesterday? Did you perform all the commissions that were given + you?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not among the impossibilities, Mademoiselle, that I may have + neglected some of them,” replied the old man, fearing to compromise + himself by a positive affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “Tell us, then, what you did.” + </p> + <p> + Leonard wiped his nose behind his hat, like a well-bred orator, and, + balancing himself upon his legs in a way not at all Bourbonic, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I went to the city that morning myself because Monsieur le Baron had said + the night before that he should hunt to-day, and that the groom was to + help Monsieur le Baron drive a wild boar out of the Corne woods. I reached + Remiremont; I went to the butcher’s; I purchased five kilogrammes of + dressed goods—” + </p> + <p> + “Of dressed goods at the butcher’s!” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim. + </p> + <p> + “I would say ten pounds of what uneducated people call pork,” said + Rousselet, pronouncing this last word in a strangled voice. + </p> + <p> + “Pass over these details,” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil. “You went to + the post-office.” + </p> + <p> + “I went to the post-office, where I put in letters for Mademoiselle, + Madame, Monsieur le Baron, and one from Mademoiselle Aline for Monsieur + d’Artigues.” + </p> + <p> + “Aline writing to her cousin! Did you know that?” said the old aunt, + turning quickly toward her niece. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; they correspond regularly,” replied Clemence with a smile + which seemed to say that she saw no harm in it. + </p> + <p> + The old maid shook her head and protruded her under lip, as much as to + say: We will attend to this another time. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim, who was out of patience at this questioning, began + to speak in a quick tone which was a contrast to her aunt’s solemn + slowness. + </p> + <p> + “Rousselet,” said she, “when you took the newspapers out of the office, + did you notice whether the wrappers were intact, or whether they had been + opened?” + </p> + <p> + The good man half concealed his face in his cravat at this precise + questioning, and it was with embarrassment that he replied, after a + moment’s hesitation: + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Madame—as to the wrappers—I do not accuse the + postmaster—” + </p> + <p> + “If the journals were sealed when you received them, you are the only one + who could have opened them.” + </p> + <p> + Rousselet straightened himself up to his full height, and, giving to his + nut-cracker face the most dignified look possible, he said in a solemn + tone: + </p> + <p> + “With due deference to you, Madame, Leonard Rousselet is well known. + Fifty-seven years old on Saint-Hubert’s day, I am incapable of opening + newspapers. When they have been read at the chateau and they send me with + them to the cure, I do not say—perhaps on my way—it is a + recreation—and then the cure is Jean Bartou, son of Joseph Bartou, + the tilemaker. But to read the newspaper before my masters have done so! + Never! Leonard Rousselet is an old man incapable of such baseness. + Baptized when a child; fifty-seven years on Saint-Hubert’s day.” + </p> + <p> + “When you speak of your pastor, do so in a more becoming manner,” + interrupted Mademoiselle de Colrandeuil, although she herself in private + did not speak of the plebeian priest in very respectful terms. But if + Joseph Bartou’s son was always the son of Joseph Bartou to her, she meant + that he should be Monsieur le Cure to the peasants. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim had not been much affected by Pere Rousselet’s + harangue, and shook her head impatiently, saying in an imperative tone: + </p> + <p> + “I am certain that the newspapers have been opened by you, or by some + person to whom you have given them, and I wish to know at once by whom.” + </p> + <p> + Rousselet dropped his pose of a Roman senator; passing his hand behind his + ears, a familiar gesture with people when in embarrassing positions, he + continued less emphatically: + </p> + <p> + “I stopped on my way back at La Fauconnerie, at the ‘Femme-sans-Tete + Inn’.” + </p> + <p> + “And what were you doing in a tavern?” interrupted Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil severely. “You know it is not intended that the servants in + this house should frequent taverns and such low places, which are not + respectable and corrupt the morals of the lower classes.” + </p> + <p> + “Servants! lower classes! Old aristocrat!” growled Rousselet secretly; + but, not daring to show his ill humor, he replied in a bland voice: + </p> + <p> + “If Mademoiselle had gone the same road that I did, with the same + conveyance, she would know that it is a rather thirsty stretch. I stopped + at the ‘Femme-sans-Tete’ to wash the dust down my parched throat. + Whereupon Mademoiselle Reine—the daughter of Madame Gobillot, the + landlady of the inn—Mademoiselle Reine asked me to allow her to look + at the yellow-journal in which there are fashions for ladies; I asked her + why; she said it was so that she might see how they made their bonnets, + gowns, and other finery in Paris. The frivolity of women!” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil threw herself back in her chair and gave way to + an access of hilarity in which she rarely indulged. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Gobillot reading La Mode! Mademoiselle Gobillot talking of + gowns, shawls, and cashmeres! Clemence, what do you say to that? You will + see, she will be ordering her bonnets from Herbault! Ha! ha! This is what + is called the progress of civilization, the age of light!” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Gobillot,” said Clemence, fixing a penetrating glance upon + the old man, “was not the only one who looked at La Mode. Was there no + other person in the tavern who saw it?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” replied Rousselet, forced from his last refuge, “there were two + young men taking their refection, and one of them wore a beard no longer + than a goat’s. Madame will pardon me if I allow myself to use this vulgar + expression, but Madame wished to know all.” + </p> + <p> + “And the other young man?” + </p> + <p> + “The other had his facial epidermis shaved as close as a lady’s or mine. + He was the one who held the journal while his comrade was smoking outside + the door.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim made no further inquiries, but fell into a profound + revery. With eyes fixed upon the last number of La Mode, she seemed to + study the slightest lines of the sketch that had been made thereon, as if + she hoped to find a solution to the mystery. Her irregular breathing, and + the bright flush which tinged her usually pale cheeks, would have denoted + to an eye-witness one of those tempests of the heart, the physical + manifestations of which are like those of a fever. The pale winter flower + dying under the snow had suddenly raised its drooping head and recovered + its color; the melancholy against which the young woman had so vainly + struggled had disappeared as if by enchantment. A little bird surmounted + by a coronet, the whole rather badly sketched, was the strange talisman + that had produced this change. + </p> + <p> + “They were commercial travellers,” said the old aunt; “they always pretend + to know everything. One of them, doubtless, when reading the well-known + name of Monsieur de Bergenheim upon the wrapper, sketched the animal in + question. These gentlemen of industry usually have a rather good + education! But this is giving the affair more importance than it merits. + Leonard Rousselet,” said she, raising her voice as a judge does in court + when pronouncing his charge, “you were wrong to let anything addressed to + your master leave your hands. We will excuse you this time, but I warn you + to be more careful in future; when you go to Madame Gobillot’s, you may + say to Mademoiselle Reine, from me, that if she wishes to read La Mode I + shall be delighted to procure a subscriber to one of our journals. You may + retire now.” + </p> + <p> + Without waiting for this invitation to be repeated, Rousselet backed out + of the room like an ambassador leaving the royal presence, escorted by + Constance acting as master of ceremonies. Not having calculated the + distance, he had just bumped against the door, when it suddenly opened and + a person of extreme vivacity bounded into the middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + It was a very young and petite lady, whose perfectly developed form + predicted an inclination to stoutness in the future. She belonged to the + Bergenheim family, if one could credit the resemblance between her + characteristic features and several of the old portraits in the room; she + wore a dark-brown riding-habit, a gray hat perched on one side, showing on + the left a mass of very curly, bright blond hair. This coiffure and the + long green veil, floating at each movement like the plume in a helmet, + gave a singularly easy air to the fresh face of this pretty amazon, who + brandished, in guise of a lance, a billiard cue. + </p> + <p> + “Clemence,” she exclaimed, “I have just beaten Christian; I made the red + ball, I made the white, and then the double stroke; I made all! + Mademoiselle, I have just beaten Christian two games; is it not glorious? + He made only eighteen points in a single game. Pere Rousselet, I have just + beaten Christian! Do you know how to play billiards?” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Aline, I am absolutely ignorant of the game,” replied the + old man, with as gracious a smile as was possible, while he tried to + recover his equilibrium. + </p> + <p> + “You are needed no longer, Rousselet,” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil; + “close the door as you go out.” + </p> + <p> + When she had been obeyed, the old maid turned gravely toward Aline, who + was still dancing about the room, having seized her sister-in-law’s hands + in order to force her to share her childish joy. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” said she in a severe tone, “is it the custom at the + ‘Sacred Heart’ to enter a room without greeting the persons who are in it, + and to jump about like a crazy person? a thing that is never permitted + even in a peasant’s house.” + </p> + <p> + Aline stopped short in the midst of her dance and blushed a trifle; she + caressed the pug dog, instead of replying, for she knew as well as + Rousselet that it was the surest way of softening the old maid’s heart. + The cajolery was lost this time. + </p> + <p> + “Do not touch Constance, I beg of you,” exclaimed the aunt, as if a dagger + had been raised against the object of her love, “do not soil this poor + beast with your hands. What dreadful thing have you on your fingers? Have + you just come out of an indigo bag?” + </p> + <p> + The young girl blushed still deeper and gazed at her pretty hands, which + were really a little daubed, and began to wipe them with an embroidered + handkerchief which she took from her pocket. + </p> + <p> + “It was the billiards,” she said, in a low voice, “it is the blue chalk + they rub the cue with in order to make good shots and caroms.” + </p> + <p> + “Make good shots! Caroms! Will you be so good as to spare us your slang + speeches,” continued Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who seemed to become more + crabbed as the young girl’s confusion increased. “What a fine education + for a young lady! and one who has just come from the ‘Sacred Heart’! One + that has taken five prizes not fifteen days ago! I really do not know what + to think of those ladies, your teachers! And now I suppose you are going + to ride. Billiards and horses, horses and billiards! It is fine! It is + admirable!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mademoiselle,” said Aline, raising her large blue eyes, which were + on the verge of tears, “it is vacation now, and there is no wrong in my + playing a game of billiards with my brother; we have no billiards at the + ‘Sacred Heart,’ and it is such fun! It is like riding; the doctor said + that it would be very healthful for me, and Christian hoped that it might + make me grow a little.” + </p> + <p> + As she said these words, the young girl glanced into the mirror in order + to see whether her brother’s hopes had been realized; for her small + stature was her sole anxiety. But this glance was as quick as a flash, for + she feared that the severe old maid would make this act of coquetry serve + as the text for another sermon. + </p> + <p> + “You are not my niece, and I am thankful for it,” continued the old lady. + “I am too old to begin another education; thank goodness, one is quite + enough! I have no authority over you, and your conduct is your brother’s + concern. The advice which I give you is entirely disinterested; your + amusements are not such as seem to me proper for a young girl of good + birth. It may be possible that it is the fashion today, so I will say no + more about it; but there is one thing more serious, upon which I should + advise you to reflect. In my youth, a young lady never was allowed to + write letters except to her father and mother. Your letters to your cousin + d’Artigues are inconsiderate—do not interrupt me—they are + inconsiderate, and I should advise you to mend your ways.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil arose, and, as she had found an opportunity to + read three sermons in one forenoon, she could not say, like Titus, “I have + wasted my morning.” She left the room with a majestic step, escorted by + her dog and satisfied with herself, bestowing an ironical curtsey on the + young girl, which the latter did not think it necessary to return. + </p> + <p> + “How hateful your aunt is!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Bergenheim to her + sister-in-law, when they were alone. “Christian says that I must pay no + attention to her, because all women become like her if they never marry. + As for myself, I know very well that if I am an old maid I shall try not + to hurt others’ feelings—I, inconsiderate! When she can think of + nothing more to say, she scolds me about my cousin. It is hardly worth + while, for what we write about! Alphonse wrote of nothing, in his last + letter, but of the partridge he had shot and his hunting costume; he is + such a boy! But why do you not say something? You sit there speechless; + are you angry with me, too?” + </p> + <p> + She approached Clemence and was about to seat herself in her lap, when the + latter arose to avoid this loving familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “So you really have beaten Christian,” said she, in a listless tone; “are + you going for a ride now? Your habit is very becoming.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly? oh! I am so glad!” replied the young girl, planting herself before + the glass to look at her pretty figure. She pulled down her waist, + adjusted the folds of the skirt of her dress and arranged her veil, placed + her hat on her head with a little more jaunty air, turned three quarters + around to get a better view of her costume; in one word, she went through + the coquettish movements that all pretty women learn upon entering + society. On the whole, she seemed very well pleased with her examination, + for she smiled and showed a row of small teeth which were as white as + milk. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry now,” said she, “that I did not send for a black hat; my hair + is so light that gray makes me look ugly. Do you not think so? Why do you + not reply, Clemence? One can not get a word out of you to-day; is it + because you have your neuralgia?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a trifle of it,” said Madame de Bergenheim, in order to give some + pretext for her preoccupation. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, you ought to come with us for a ride; the fresh air will do + you good. Look how fine the weather is now; we will have a good gallop. + Will you? I will help you put on your habit, and in five minutes you will + be ready. Listen, I hear them in the yard now. I am going to tell + Christian to have your horse saddled; come.” + </p> + <p> + Aline took her sister-in-law by the hand, led her into the next room and + opened the window to see what was going on outside, where the cracking of + whips and several voices were to be heard. A servant was walking up and + down the yard leading a large horse which he had just brought from the + stable; the Baron was holding a smaller one, which bore a lady’s saddle, + while he carefully examined all the buckles. As he heard the window open + above his head, he turned and bowed to Clemence with much chivalrous + gallantry. + </p> + <p> + “You still refuse to go with us?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Is Aline going to ride Titania,” replied Madame de Bergenheim, making an + effort to speak; “I am sure the mare will end by playing her some trick.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl, who had a fancy for Titania because the skittish creature + had the attraction of forbidden fruit, nudged her sister with her elbow, + and made a little grimace. + </p> + <p> + “Aline is afraid of nothing,” said the Baron; “we will enlist her with the + hussars as soon as she leaves the ‘Sacred Heart.’ Come, Aline.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl kissed the Baroness, gathered up her skirt, and in a few + moments was in the yard patting the neck of her dear brown mare. + </p> + <p> + “Up with you!” said Christian, taking his sister’s foot in one hand while + he raised her with the other, placing her in the saddle as easily as he + would a six-year-old child. Then he mounted his large horse, saluted his + wife, and the couple, starting at a trot, soon disappeared down the + avenue, which began at the gate of the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were out of sight, Clemence went to her room, took a shawl + from her bed, and went rapidly down a secret stairway which led into the + gardens. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE GALLANT IN THE GARDEN + </h2> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim’s apartments occupied the first floor of the wing on + the left side of the house. On the ground floor were the library, a + bathroom, and several guest-chambers. The large windows had a modern look, + but they were made to harmonize with the rest of the house by means of + grayish paint. At the foot of this facade was a lawn surrounded by a wall + and orange-trees planted in tubs, forming a sort of English garden, a + sanctuary reserved for the mistress of the castle, and which brought her, + as a morning tribute, the perfume of its flowers and the coolness of its + shade. + </p> + <p> + Through the tops of the fir-trees and the tuliptrees, which rose above the + group of smaller shrubs, the eye could follow the winding river until it + finally disappeared at the extremity of the valley. It was this + picturesque view and a more extensive horizon which had induced the + Baroness to choose this part of the Gothic manor for her own private + apartments. + </p> + <p> + After crossing the lawn, the young woman opened a gate concealed by shrubs + and entered the avenue by the banks of the river. This avenue described a + curve around the garden, and led to the principal entrance of the chateau. + Night was approaching, the countryside, which had been momentarily + disturbed by the storm, had resumed its customary serenity. The leaves of + the trees, as often happens after a rain, looked as fresh as a newly + varnished picture. The setting sun cast long shadows through the trees, + and their interlaced branches looked like a forest of boa-constrictors. + </p> + <p> + Clemence advanced slowly under this leafy dome, which became darker and + more mysterious every moment, with head bent and enveloped in a large + cashmere shawl which fell in irregular folds to the ground. Madame de + Bergenheim had one of those faces which other women would call not at all + remarkable, but which intelligent men ardently admire. At the first glance + she seemed hardly pretty; at the second, she attracted involuntary + admiration; afterward, it was difficult to keep her out of one’s thoughts. + Her features, which taken separately might seem irregular, were singularly + harmonious, and, like a thin veil which tempers a too dazzling light, + softened the whole expression. Her light chestnut hair was arranged about + the temples in ingenious waves; while her still darker eyebrows gave, at + times, an imposing gravity to her face. The same contrast was to be found + in the mouth; the short distance which separated it from the nose would + indicate, according to Lavater, unusual energy; but the prominent underlip + impregnated her smile with enchanting voluptuousness. Her rather clearcut + features, the exceeding brilliancy of her brown eyes, which seemed like + diamonds set in jet, would, perhaps, have given to the whole rather too + strong a character had not these eyes when veiled given to their dazzling + rays a glamour of indescribable softness. + </p> + <p> + The effect produced by this face might be compared to that of a prism, + every facet of which reflects a different color. The ardor burning under + this changeable surface, which, through some sudden cause, betrayed its + presence, was so deeply hidden, however, that it seemed impossible to + fathom it completely. Was she a coquette, or simply a fashionable lady, or + a devotee? In one word, was she imbued with the most egotistical pride or + the most exalted love? One might suppose anything, but know nothing; one + remained undecided and thoughtful, but fascinated, the mind plunged into + ecstatic contemplation such as the portrait of Monna Lisa inspires. An + observer might have perceived that she had one of those hearts, so finely + strung, from which a clever hand might make incomparable harmonies of + passion gush; but perhaps he would be mistaken. So many women have their + souls only in their eyes! + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim’s revery rendered the mysterious and impenetrable + veil which usually enveloped her countenance more unfathomable yet. What + sentiment made her bend her head and walk slowly as she meditated? Was it + the ennui of which she had just complained to her aunt? Was it pure + melancholy? The monotonous ripple of the stream, the singing of the birds + in the woods, the long golden reflections under the trees, all seemed to + unite in filling the soul with sadness; but neither the murmuring water, + the singing birds, nor the sun’s splendor was paid any attention to by + Madame de Bergenheim; she gave them neither a glance nor a sigh. Her + meditation was not revery, but thought; not thoughts of the past, but of + the present. There was something precise and positive in the rapid, + intelligent glance which flashed from her eyes when she raised them; it + was as if she had a lucid foresight of an approaching drama. + </p> + <p> + A moment after she had passed over the wooden bridge which led from the + avenue, a man wearing a blouse crossed it and followed her. Hearing the + sound of hurried steps behind her, she turned and saw, not two steps from + her, the stranger who, during the storm, had vainly tried to attract her + attention. There was a moment’s silence. The young man stood motionless, + trying to catch his breath, which had been hurried, either by emotion or + rapid walking. Madame de Bergenheim, with head thrown back and widely + opened eyes, looked at him with a more agitated than surprised look. + </p> + <p> + “It is you,” exclaimed he, impulsively, “you whom I had lost and now find + again!” + </p> + <p> + “What madness, Monsieur!” she replied, in a low voice, putting out her + hand as if to stop him. + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, do not look at me so! Let me gaze at you and assure myself + that it is really you—I have dreamed of this moment for so long! + Have I not paid dear enough for it? Two months passed away from you—from + heaven! Two months of sadness, grief, and unhappiness! But you are pale! + Do you suffer, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Much, at this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Clemence!” + </p> + <p> + “Call me Madame, Monsieur de Gerfaut,” she interrupted, severely. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I disobey you? Are you not my lady, my queen?” + </p> + <p> + He bent his knee as a sign of bondage, and tried to seize her hand, which + she immediately withdrew. Madame de Bergenheim seemed to pay very little + attention to the words addressed her; her uneasy glances wandered in every + direction, into the depths of the bushes and the slightest undulations of + the ground. Gerfaut understood this pantomime. He glanced, in his turn, + over the place, and soon discovered at some distance a more propitious + place for such a conversation as theirs. It was a semicircular recess in + one of the thickets in the park. A rustic seat under a large oak seemed to + have been placed there expressly for those who came to seek solitude and + speak of love. From there, one could see the approach of danger, and, in + case of alarm, the wood offered a secure retreat. The young man had had + enough experience in gallant strategies to seize the advantage of this + position, and wended his steps in that direction while continuing to + converse. It may be that instinct which, in a critical situation, makes us + follow mechanically an unknown impulse; it may be that the same idea of + prudence had also struck her, for Madame de Bergenheim walked beside him. + </p> + <p> + “If you could understand what I suffered,” said he, “when I found that you + had left Paris! I could not discover at first where you had gone; some + spoke of Corandeuil, others of Italy. I thought, from this hasty departure + and the care you took to conceal your abiding-place, that you were fleeing + from me. Oh! tell me that I was mistaken; or, if it is true that you + wished to separate yourself from me, say that this cruel resolve had left + your mind, and that you will pardon me for following you! You will pardon + me, will you not? If I trouble or annoy you, lay the blame entirely upon + my love, which I can not restrain, and which drives me at times to do the + most extravagant things; call it reckless, insane love, if you will; but + believe it to be true and devoted!” + </p> + <p> + Clemence replied to this passionate tirade by simply shaking her head as a + child does who hears the buzzing of a wasp and fears its sting; then, as + they reached the bench, she said with affected surprise: + </p> + <p> + “You have made a mistake, this is not your road; you should have gone over + the bridge.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little palpable insincerity in these words; for if the road + which they had taken did not lead to the bridge, neither did it lead to + the chateau, and the mistake, if there was one, was mutual. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, I beg of you,” replied the lover, with ‘a supplicating + glance, “I have so many things to say to you! I beg of you, grant me one + moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Afterward, will you obey me?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a few words, and I will then do all that you wish.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a moment; then, her conscience doubtless lulled by this + promise, she seated herself and made a gesture for M. de Gerfaut to do + likewise. The young man did not make her repeat this invitation, but + hypocritically seated himself on the farther end of the seat. + </p> + <p> + “Now, talk reasonably,” she said, in a calm tone. “I suppose that you are + on your way to Germany or Switzerland, and as you passed near me you + wished to favor me with a call. I ought to be proud of this mark of + respect from a man so celebrated as you are, although you are rather + hiding your light under this garb. We are not very strict as to dress in + the country, but, really, yours is quite unceremonious. Tell me, where did + you find that headdress?” + </p> + <p> + These last words were spoken with the careless, mocking gayety of a young + girl. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut smiled, but he took off his cap. Knowing the importance that women + attach to little things, and what an irreparable impression an ugly cravat + or unblacked boots might produce in the most affecting moments, he did not + wish to compromise himself by a ridiculous head-gear. He passed his hand + through his hair, pushing it back from his large, broad forehead, and said + softly: + </p> + <p> + “You know very well that I am not going to Germany or Switzerland, and + that Bergenheim is the end of my journey, as it has been its aim.” + </p> + <p> + “Then will you be so good as to tell me what your intention was in taking + such a step, and whether you have realized how strange, inconsiderate, and + in every way extravagant your conduct is?” + </p> + <p> + “I have realized it; I know it. You were here, I came because there is a + loadstone within you, that is my heart’s sole attraction, and I must + follow my heart. I came because I wanted to see your beautiful eyes again, + to be intoxicated by your sweet voice, because to live away from you is + impossible for me; because your presence is as necessary to my happiness + as air to my life; because I love you. That is why I came. Is it possible + that you do not understand me, that you will not pardon me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to believe that you are speaking seriously,” said Clemence, + with increased severity. “What sort of an idea can you have of me, if you + think I will allow such conduct? And then, even if I were foolish enough + for that-which I never shall be—to what would it lead? You know + perfectly well that it is impossible for you to come to the castle, as you + are not acquainted with Monsieur de Bergenheim, and I certainly shall not + introduce you to him. My aunt is here, and she would persecute me the + whole day long with questions! Mon Dieu! how you disturb me! how unhappy + you make me!” + </p> + <p> + “Your aunt never goes out, so she will not see me, unless I am officially + received at the chateau, and then there could be no danger.” + </p> + <p> + “But the servants she brought with her, and mine, who have seen you in her + house! I tell you, the whole thing is as perilous as it is crazy, and you + will make me die of fright and chagrin.” + </p> + <p> + “If one of those servants should chance to meet me, how could he ever + recognize me in this costume? Do not fear, I shall be prudent! I would + live in a log cabin, if necessary, for the joy of seeing you + occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim smiled disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “That would be quite pastoral,” she replied; “but I believe that such + disguises are seldom seen now except upon the stage. If this is a scene + out of a play, which you wish to rehearse in order to judge its effect, I + warn you that it is entirely lost upon me, and that I consider the play + itself very ill-timed, improper, and ridiculous. Besides, for a man of + talent and a romantic poet you have not exhibited any very great + imagination. It is a classical imitation, nothing better. There is + something like it in mythology, I believe. Did not Apollo disguise himself + as a shepherd?” + </p> + <p> + Nothing more is to be feared by a lover than a witty woman who does not + love or loves but half; he is obliged to wear velvet gloves in all such + sentimental controversies; he owes it to himself out of propriety first, + out of prudence afterward. For it is not a question of taking part in a + conversation for the simple pleasure of brilliant repartee; and while he + applies himself carefully to play his part well, he feels that he has been + dexterously cut to pieces with a well-sharpened knife. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut indulged in these unpleasant reflections while gazing at Madame de + Bergenheim. Seated up on the bench as proudly as a queen upon her throne, + with shining eyes, scornful lips, and arms tightly folded under her + cashmere shawl, with that haughty gesture familiar to her, the young woman + looked as invulnerable under this light wrap as if she had been covered + with Ajax’s shield, formed, if we can credit Homer, of seven bulls’ hides + and a sheet of brass. + </p> + <p> + After gazing at this scornful face for a moment, Gerfaut glanced at his + coarse blouse, his leggings, and muddy boots. His usual dainty ways made + the details of this costume yet more shocking to him, and he exaggerated + this little disaster. He felt degraded and almost ridiculous. The thought + took away for a moment his presence of mind; he began mechanically to + twirl his hat in his hands, exactly as if he had been Pere Rousselet + himself. But instead of being hurtful to him, this awkwardness served him + better than the eloquence of Rousseau or the coolness of Richelieu. Was it + not a genuine triumph for Clemence to reduce a man of his recognized + talent, who was usually anything but timid, to this state of + embarrassment? What witty response, what passionate speech could equal the + flattery of this poet with bent head and this expression of deep sadness + upon his face? + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim continued her raillery, but in a softer tone. + </p> + <p> + “This time, instead of staying in a cabin, the god of poetry has descended + to a tavern. Have you not established your general headquarters at La + Fauconnerie?” + </p> + <p> + “How did you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “By the singular visiting-card that you drew in La Mode. Do I not know + your coat-of-arms? An expressive one, as my aunt would say.” + </p> + <p> + At these words, which probably referred to some letters, doubtless read + without very much anger, since they were thus recalled, Gerfaut took + courage. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, “I am staying at La Fauconnerie; but I can not stay there + any longer, for I think your servants make the tavern their + pleasure-ground. I must come to some decision. I have two propositions to + submit to you: the first is, that you will allow me to see you + occasionally; there are numerous promenades about here; you go out alone, + so it would be very easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear the second,” said Clemence, with a shrug of the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “If you will not grant my first, I beg of you to persuade your aunt that + she is ill and to take her with you to Plombieres or Baden. The season is + not very far advanced; there, at least, I should be able to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us end this folly,” said the Baroness; “I have listened patiently to + you; now, in your turn, listen to me. You will be sensible, will you not? + You will leave me and go. You will go to Switzerland, and return to the + Montanvert, where you met me for the first time, which I shall always + remember, if you, yourself, do not make it painful for me to do so. You + will obey me, Octave, will you not? Give me this proof of your esteem and + friendship. You know very well that it is impossible for me to grant what + you ask; believe me, it is painful to me to be forced to refuse you. So, + say farewell to me; you shall see me again next winter in Paris. Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + She arose and extended her hand; he took it, but, thinking to profit by + the emotion betrayed by Madame de Bergenheim’s voice, he exclaimed in a + sort of transport: + </p> + <p> + “No! I will not wait until next winter to see you. I was about to submit + to your will; if you repulse me I will consult only myself; if you repulse + me, Clemence, I warn you that tomorrow I shall be in your house, seated at + your table and admitted to your drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” “I!” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And how will you do it, pray?” said she, defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “That is my secret, Madame,” he replied, coldly. + </p> + <p> + Although her curiosity was greatly aroused, Clemence felt that it would be + beneath her to ask any more questions. She replied with an affectation of + mocking indifference: + </p> + <p> + “Since I am to have the pleasure of seeing you tomorrow, I hope you will + permit me to leave you today. You know that I am not well, and it is + showing me very little attention to allow me to stand here in this wet + grass.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her skirt a trifle and extended her foot, showing her slipper, + which was really covered with pearly drops of rain. Octave threw himself + quickly upon his knees, and, taking a silk handkerchief from his pocket, + began to wipe away all traces of the storm. His action was so rapid that + Madame de Bergenheim stood for a moment motionless and speechless, but + when she felt her foot imprisoned in the hand of the man who had just + declared war against her, her surprise gave place to a mingled feeling of + impatience and anger. She drew her foot back with a sudden movement, but + unfortunately the foot went one way and the slipper another. A + fencing-master, who sees his foil carried ten steps away from him by a + back stroke, could not feel more astonishment than that felt by Madame de + Bergenheim. Her first movement was to place her foot, so singularly + undressed, upon the ground; an instinctive horror of the damp, muddy walk + made her draw it quickly back. She stood thus with one foot lifted; the + movement which she had started to make threw her off her balance and as + she was about to fall she extended her hand to find some support. This + support proved to be Octave’s head, for he still remained upon his knees. + With the usual presumption of lovers, he believed that he had the right to + give her the assistance which she seemed to ask for, and passed his arm + about the slender waist which was bent toward him. + </p> + <p> + Clemence drew herself up at once, and with frowning brow regained her + coolness, standing upright upon one foot, like Cupid in the painting by + Gerard; like him, also, she seemed about to fly away, there was so much + airy lightness in her improvised attitude. + </p> + <p> + Many puerile incidents and ridiculous events occur in life, which it would + render impossible for the most imperturbable of mandarins to struggle + against in order to preserve his gravity. When Louis XIV, this king so + expert in courtly ways, dressed his hair alone behind his curtains before + presenting himself to the eyes of his courtiers, he feared that this + disarray of costume might compromise even his royal majesty. So, upon such + authority, if one looks upon a complete head of hair as indispensable to + the dignity of manhood, the same reasoning should exist for the covering + of one’s feet. In less than a second, Madame de Bergenheim comprehended + that in such circumstances prudish airs would fail of their effect. + Meanwhile, the agreeable side of her position operated within her; she + felt unable to keep up the show of anger that she had wished to assume. + The involuntary smile upon her lips smoothed her forehead as a ray of sun + dissipates a cloud. Thus, disposed to clemency by reflection or + fascination, it was in a very sweet and coaxing voice that she said: + “Octave, give me my slipper.” Gerfaut gazed at the lovely face bent toward + him with an expression of childish entreaty, then he glanced with an + irresolute air at the trophy which he held in his hand. This slipper, + which was as small as Cinderella’s, was not green, but gray, the lining + was of rose-colored silk, and the whole was so pretty, coquettish, and + dainty that it seemed impossible its owner could be vexed with him if he + examined it closely. “I will give it back to you,” said he, at last, “on + condition that you will allow me to put it on for you.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, certainly not,” said she, in a sharp tone; “I should much + prefer to leave it with you and return home as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut shook his head and smiled incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Think of your delicate lungs and of this terrible mud?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence drew her foot suddenly back under her skirt, concealing it + entirely from the sight of the young man, who gazed at it more than she + thought proper. Then she exclaimed, with the obstinacy of a spoiled child: + </p> + <p> + “Very well! I will return hopping on one foot; I could hop very well when + I was young, I should be able to do so now.” + </p> + <p> + To give more weight to this observation, she took two little jumps with a + grace and sprightliness worthy of Mademoiselle Taglioni. + </p> + <p> + Octave arose. + </p> + <p> + “I have had the pleasure of seeing you waltz,” said he; “but I admit that + I shall be pleased to witness a new dance, and one executed for me alone.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, he pretended to conceal the innocent object of + this dispute in his blouse. The pretty dancer saw by this that a + compromise would be necessary. Recourse to concessions is often as fatal + to women as to kings; but what can one do when every other exit is closed? + Obliged by absolute necessity to accept the conditions imposed upon her, + Clemence wished at least to cover this defeat with sufficient dignity, and + escape from an awkward position with the honors of war. + </p> + <p> + “Get down upon your knees, then,” she said, haughtily, “and put on my + slipper, since you exact it, and let this end this ridiculous scene. I + think you should be too proud to regard a maid’s privilege as a favor.” + </p> + <p> + “As a favor which a king would envy,” replied Gerfaut, in a voice as + tender as hers had been disdainful. He put one knee on the ground, placed + the little slipper upon the other and seemed to await his enemy’s + pleasure. But the latter found a new subject for complaint in the pedestal + offered her, for she said with increased severity: + </p> + <p> + “On the ground, Monsieur; and let that end it.” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed, without a reply, after giving her a reproachful glance by which + she was as much moved as by his silent obedience. She put out her foot + with a more gracious air, and thrust it into the slipper. To be a correct + historian, we must admit that this time she left it in the hands which + softly pressed it longer than was strictly necessary. When Octave had + fastened it with skill but with no haste, he bent his head and pressed his + lips to the openwork stocking, through which he could catch a glimpse of + white, satiny skin. + </p> + <p> + “My husband!” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim, as she heard the clatter of + horses’ hoofs at the end of the avenue; and without adding a word she fled + rapidly toward the chateau. Gerfaut arose from his position no less + rapidly and darted into the woods. A rustling of branches which he heard a + few steps from him made him uneasy at first, for he feared that an + invisible witness had been present at this imprudent interview; but he was + soon reassured by the silence which reigned about him. + </p> + <p> + After the Baron and his sister had passed, he crossed the avenue and soon + disappeared over the winding road on the other side of the bridge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. ART AND MUSIC + </h2> + <p> + A league below the castle of Bergenheim, the village of La Fauconnerie was + situated, at the junction of several valleys the principal of which, by + means of an unfrequented road, opened communications between Lorraine and + upper Alsatia. This position had been one of some importance in the Middle + Ages, at the time when the Vosges were beset with partisans from the two + countries, always ready to renew border hostilities, the everlasting + plague of all frontiers. Upon a cliff overlooking the village were + situated the ruins which had given the village its name; it owed it to the + birds of prey [falcons, in French: ‘faucons’], the habitual guests of the + perpendicular rocks. To render proper justice to whom it belongs, we + should add that the proprietors of La Fauconnerie had made it a point at + all times to justify this appellation by customs more warlike than + hospitable; but for some time the souvenirs of their feudal prowess had + slept with their race under the ruins of the manor; the chateau had fallen + without the hamlet extending over its ruins; from a bourg of some + importance La Fauconnerie had come down to a small village, and had + nothing remarkable about it but the melancholy ruins of the chateau. + </p> + <p> + It would be impossible to imagine anything more miserably prosaic than the + houses that bordered the road, in regular order; their one story with its + thatched roof blackened by rain; the sorry garden surrounded by a little + low wall and presenting as vegetables patches of cabbage and a few rows of + beans, gave an idea of the poverty of its inhabitants. Save the church, + which the Bishop of St.-Die had caused to be built, and the manse that had + naturally shared this fortunate privilege, only one house rose above the + condition of a thatched cottage; this was the tavern called ‘La + Femme-sans-Tete’, and kept by Madame Gobillot, an energetic woman, who did + not suggest in the least the name of her establishment, “The Headless + Woman.” + </p> + <p> + A large sign shared with the inevitable bunch of juniper, the honor of + decorating the entrance and justified an appellation one might have + regarded as disrespectful to the fair sex. The original design had been + repainted in dazzling colors by the artist charged with restoring the + church. This alliance of the profane with the sacred had, it is true, + scandalized the parish priest, but he did not dare say a word too much, as + Madame Gobillot was one of his most important parishioners. A woman in a + rose-colored dress and large panniers, standing upon very high-heeled + shoes, displayed upon this sign the rejuvenated costume of 1750; an + enormous green fan, which she held in her hand, entirely concealed her + face, and it was through this caprice of the painter that the tavern came + to have the name it bore. + </p> + <p> + At the right of this original figure was painted, in a very appetizing + manner, a pie out of whose crust peeped a trio of woodcocks’ heads. A + little farther, upon a bed of watercresses, floated a sort of marine + monster, carp or sturgeon, trout or crocodile. The left of the sign was + none the less tempting; it represented a roast chicken lying upon its back + with its head under its wing, and raising its mutilated legs in the air + with a piteous look; it had for its companion a cluster of crabs, of a + little too fine a red to have been freshly caught. The whole was + interspersed with bottles and glasses brimful of wine. There were stone + jugs at each extremity, the sergeants of the rear-rank of this gastronomic + platoon, whose corks had blown out and were still flying in space, while a + bubbling white foam issued from their necks and fell majestically over + their sides after describing a long parabola. A misleading sign, indeed! + </p> + <p> + A remorseful conscience, or a desire to protect herself from all reproach + of mendacity on the part of the customers, had made the owner of the inn + place a wire cupboard upon the sill of one of the windows near the door; + in which receptacle were some eggs on a plate, a bit of bread with which + David might have loaded his sling, a white glass bottle filled with a + liquid of some color intended to represent kirsch, but which was in + reality only water. This array gave a much more correct idea of the + resources of the establishment and formed a menu like an anchorite’s + repast, and even this it was difficult for the kitchen’s resources to + maintain. + </p> + <p> + A carriage-gate led into the yard and to the stables, cart-drivers being + the principal habitues of the place; another entrance, the one which was + crowned with the fantastic sign, was flanked by two stone seats and opened + directly into the kitchen, which also served as parlor for the guests. A + fireplace with an enormous mantel, under which a whole family might warm + themselves, occupied the middle of one side of the room. There was a large + oven in one corner which opened its huge mouth, the door partly hiding the + shovels and tongs employed in its service. Two or three thoroughly smoked + hams, suspended from the beams, announced that there was no fear of a + famine before the gastronomic massacres of Middlemas. Opposite the window, + a large, polished oak dresser displayed an array of large flowered plates + and little octagon-shaped glasses. A huge kitchen kettle and some wooden + chairs completed the furniture of the room. + </p> + <p> + From the kitchen one passed into another room, where a permanent table + surrounded by benches occupied its entire length. The wall paper, once + green, was now a dirty gray; it was embellished by half a dozen black + frames representing the story of Prince Poniatowski, who shares the honor + of decorating village inns with Paul and Virginia and Wilhelm Tell. On the + upper floor-for this aristocratic dwelling had a second story—several + sleeping-rooms opened upon a long corridor, at the end of which was a room + with two beds in it. This room was very neat and clean, and was destined + for any distinguished guests whose unlucky star led them into this + deserted country. + </p> + <p> + That evening the inn presented an unaccustomed lively appearance; the long + seats, each side of the door, were occupied by rustics stripping hemp, by + some village lads, and three or four cart-drivers smoking short pipes as + black as coal. They were listening to two girls who were singing in a most + mournful way a song well known to all in this country: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Au chateau de Belfort + Sont trois jolies filles, etc.” + </pre> + <p> + The light from the hearth, shining through the open door, left this group + in the shadow and concentrated its rays upon a few faces in the interior + of the kitchen. First, there was Madame Gobillot in person, wearing a long + white apron, her head covered with an immense cap. She went from oven to + dresser, and from dresser to fireplace with a very important air. A fat + little servant disappeared frequently through the dining-room door, where + she seemed to be laying the cover for a feast. With that particular + dexterity of country girls, she made three trips to carry two plates, and + puffed like a porpoise at her work, while the look of frightened amazement + showed upon her face that every fibre of her intelligence was under + unaccustomed tension. Before the fire, and upon the range, three or four + stew-pans were bubbling. A plump chicken was turning on the spit, or, + rather, the spit and its victim were turned by a bright-looking boy of + about a dozen years, who with one hand turned the handle and with the + other, armed with a large cooking-ladle, basted the roast. + </p> + <p> + But the two principal persons in this picture were a young country girl + and a young man seated opposite her, who seemed busily engaged in making + her portrait. One would easily recognize, from the airs and elegance of + the young woman, that she was the daughter of the house, Mademoiselle + Reine Gobillot, the one whose passion for fashion-plates had excited + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s anger. She sat as straight and rigid upon her + stool as a Prussian corporal carrying arms, and maintained an excessively + gracious smile upon her lips, while she made her bust more prominent by + drawing back her shoulders as far as she could. + </p> + <p> + The young painter, on the contrary, was seated with artistic abandon, + balancing himself upon a two-legged chair with his heels resting against + the mantel; he was dressed in a black velvet coat, and a very small Tam + O’Shanter cap of the same material covered the right side of his head, + allowing a luxuriant crop of brown hair to be seen upon the other side. + This head-dress, accompanied by long moustaches and a pointed beard + covering only his chin, gave the stranger’s face the mediaeval look he + probably desired. This travelling artist was sketching in an album placed + upon his knees, with a freedom which indicated perfect confidence in his + own talents. A cigar, skilfully held in one corner of his mouth, did not + prevent him from warbling between each puff some snatches of Italian airs + of which he seemed to possess a complete repertoire. In spite of this + triple occupation he sustained a conversation with the ease of a man who, + like Caesar, could have dictated to three secretaries at once if + necessary. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dell’ Assiria, ai semidei + Aspirar—” + </pre> + <p> + “I have already asked you not to purse up your mouth so, Mademoiselle + Reine; it gives you a Watteau air radically bourgeois.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of air does it give me?” she asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “A Watteau, Regence, Pompadour air. You have a large mouth, and we will + leave it natural, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a large mouth!” exclaimed Reine, blushing with anger; “how polite + you are!” + </p> + <p> + And she pinched up her lips until she reduced them to nearly the size of + Montmorency cherries. + </p> + <p> + “Stop this vulgar way of judging of art, queen of my heart. Learn that + there is nothing more appetizing than a large mouth. I do not care for + rosebud mouths!” + </p> + <p> + “If it is the fashion!” murmured the young girl, in a pleased tone, as she + spread out horizontally her vermillion lips, which might have extended + from ear to ear, not unlike—if we can credit that slanderer, + Bussy-Rabutin-the amorous smile of Mademoiselle de la Valliere. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not let me put on my gold necklace? + </p> + <p> + “That would have given my portrait a smarter look. Sophie Mitoux had hers + painted with a coral comb and earrings. How shabby this style is!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, my good Reine, let me follow my own fancy; an artist is a + being of inspiration and spontaneity. Meanwhile, you make your bust too + prominent; there is no necessity for you to look as if you had swallowed a + whale. L’art n’est pas fait pour toi, tu n’en as pas besoin. Upon my word, + you have a most astonishing bust; a genuine Rubens.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Gobillot was an austere woman, though an innkeeper, and watched + over her daughter with particular care, lest any ill-sounding or insiduous + expression should reach her child’s ear. Considering the company which + frequented the house, the task was not easy. So she was shocked at the + young man’s last words, and although she did not quite understand his + meaning, for that very reason she thought she scented a concealed poison + more dangerous for Mademoiselle Reine than the awful words used by the + drivers. She dared not, however, show her displeasure to a customer, and + one who seemed disposed to spend money freely; and, as usual in such + circumstances, she vented her displeasure upon the persons immediately + under her charge. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry now, Catherine! Will you never finish setting the table? I told you + before to put on the Britannia; these gentlemen are used to eating with + silver. Listen to me when I am talking to you. Who washed these glasses? + What a shame! You are as afraid of water as a mad-dog. And you! what are + you staring at that chicken for, instead of basting it? If you let it burn + you shall go to bed without any supper. If it is not provoking!” she + continued, in a scolding tone, visiting her stewpans one after another, + “everything is dried up; a fillet that was as tender as it could be will + be scorched! This is the third time that I have diluted the gravy. + Catherine! bring me a dish. Now, then, make haste.” + </p> + <p> + “One thing is certain,” interrupted the artist, “that Gerfaut is making a + fool of me. I do not see what can have become of him. Tell me, Madame + Gobillot, are you certain that an amateur of art and the picturesque, + travelling at this hour, would not be eaten by wolves or plundered by + robbers in these mountains?” + </p> + <p> + “Our mountains are safe, Monsieur,” replied the landlady, with offended + dignity; “except for the pedler who was assassinated six months ago and + whose body was found in the Combe-aux-Renards—” + </p> + <p> + “And the driver who was stopped three weeks ago in the Fosse,” added + Mademoiselle Reine; “the thieves did not quite kill him, but he is still + in the hospital at Remiremont.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that is enough to make one’s hair stand on end! This is worse than + the forest of Bondy! Truly, if I knew what direction my friend took this + morning, I would follow him with my pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is Fritz,” said Madame Gobillot. “He met a stranger in the woods who + gave him ten sous for telling him the way to Bergenheim. From his + description, it seems that it must be the gentleman you speak of. Tell us + about it, Fritz.” + </p> + <p> + The child related in his Alsatian patois his meeting of the afternoon, and + the artist was convinced that it was Gerfaut he had met. + </p> + <p> + “He must be wandering in the valley,” said he, “dreaming about our play. + But did you not say something about Bergenheim? Is there a village near + here by that name?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a chateau of that name, Monsieur, and it is about a league from + here as you go up the river.” + </p> + <p> + “And does this chateau happen to belong to the Baron de Bergenheim—a + large, blond, good-looking fellow, with rather reddish moustache?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the picture of its owner, only that the Baron does not wear a + moustache now, not since he left the service. Do you know him, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know him! Speaking of service, I once rendered him one which was + of some account. Is he at the castle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur, and his lady also.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! his wife, too. She was a Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, of Provence. Is + she pretty?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty,” said Mademoiselle Gobillot, pursing up her lips, “that depends + upon tastes. If a person likes a face as white as a ghost, she is. And, + then, she is so thin! It certainly can not be very difficult to have a + slender waist when one is as thin as that.” + </p> + <p> + “Not everybody can have rosy cheeks and a form like an enchantress,” said + the painter, in a low voice, as he looked at his model in a seductive + manner. + </p> + <p> + “There are some people who think that Monsieur’s sister is prettier than + Madame,” observed Madame Gobillot. + </p> + <p> + “O mother! how can you say that?” exclaimed Reine with a disdainful air. + “Mademoiselle Aline! A child of fifteen! She certainly is not wanting in + color; her hair is such a blond, such a red, rather! It looks as if it + were on fire.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say anything against red hair, I beg of you,” said the artist, “it + is an eminently artistic shade, which is very popular.” + </p> + <p> + “With some it may be so, but with Christians! It seems to me that black + hair—” + </p> + <p> + “When it is long and glossy like yours, it is wonderful,” said the young + man, darting another killing glance. “Madame Gobillot, would you mind + closing that door? One can not hear one’s self think here. I am a little + critical, so far as music is concerned, and you have two sopranos outside + who deafen me with their shrieks.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Marguerite Mottet and her sister. Since our cure has taken to + teaching them, they bore us to death, coming here and singing their fine + songs. One of these days I shall notify them to leave.” + </p> + <p> + As she said these words, Madame Gobillot went to close the door in order + to please her guest; as soon as her back was turned, the latter leaned + forward with the boldness of a Lovelace and imprinted a very loving kiss + upon the rosy cheek of Mademoiselle Reine, who never thought of drawing + back until the offence was committed. + </p> + <p> + The sole witness to this incident was the little kitchen drudge, whose + blue eyes had been fastened upon the artist’s moustache and beard for some + time. They seemed to plunge him into a deep admiration. But at this + unexpected event his amazement was so complete that he dropped his spoon + into the ashes. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! mein herr, do you wish to go to bed without your supper, as has been + promised you?” said the young man, while the beautiful Reine was trying to + recover her countenance. “Now, then, sing us a little song instead of + staring at me as if I were a giraffe. Your little cook has a nice voice, + Madame Gobillot. Now, then, mein herr, give us a little German lied. I + will give you six kreutzers if you sing in tune, and a flogging if you + grate upon my ears.” + </p> + <p> + He arose and put his album under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “And my portrait?” exclaimed the young girl, whose cheek was still burning + from the kiss she had just received. + </p> + <p> + The painter drew near her, smiling, and said in a mysterious tone: + </p> + <p> + “When I make a portrait of a pretty person like you, I never finish it the + first day. If you will give me another sitting in the morning before your + mother arises I promise to finish this sketch in a way that will not be + displeasing to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Reine saw that her mother was watching her, and walked away + with no reply save a glance which was not discouraging. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then! You droll little fellow!” exclaimed the artist, as he whirled + on one foot; “triple time; one, two, begin.” + </p> + <p> + The child burst into an Alsatian song in a high, ringing voice. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment! What devilish key are you singing that in? La, la, la, la; + mi, in E major, key of four sharps. By Jove, my little man! here is a + fellow who sings B’s and C’s away up in the clouds; an E sharp, too!” he + continued, with astonishment, while the singer made a hold upon the + keynote an octave higher in a voice as clear as a crystal. + </p> + <p> + The artist threw into the fire the cigar which he had just lighted, and + began pacing the kitchen floor, paying no more attention to Mademoiselle + Reine, who felt a little piqued at seeing herself neglected for a kitchen + drudge. + </p> + <p> + “A rare voice,” said he, as he took a great stride; “per Bacco, a very + rare voice. Added to that, he sings very deep; two octaves and a half, a + clear, ringing tone, the two registers are well united. He would make an + admirable ‘primo musico’. And the little fellow has a pretty face, too. + After supper I will make him wash his face, and I will sketch it. I am + sure that in less than a year’s study, he could make his debut with the + greatest success. By Jove! I have an idea! Why does not that Gerfaut + return? Now, then, he would do very well for ‘Pippo’ in La Gazza, or for + Gemma in Wilhelm Tell. But we must have a role for him to make his debut + in. What subject could we take properly to introduce a child’s part? Why + does not that Gerfaut come? A child, girl or boy; a boy part would be + better. ‘Daniel,’ of course; viva ‘Daniel!’ ‘The Chaste Suzannah,’ opera + in three acts. Madame Begrand would be fine as Suzannah. By Jove! if + Meyerbeer would only take charge of the score! That falls to him by right + as a compatriot. Then, that would give him an opportunity to break lances + with Mehul and Rossini. If that fool of a Gerfaut would only come! Let us + see what would be the three characters: Soprano, Suzannah; contralto, + David; the old men, two basses; as for the tenor, he would be, of course, + Suzannah’s husband. There would be a superb entrance for him upon his + return from the army, ‘cavatina guerriera con cori’. Oh! that terrible + Gerfaut! the wolves must have devoured him. If he were here, we would + knock off the thing between our fruit and cheese.” + </p> + <p> + Just at that moment the door opened suddenly. “Is supper ready?” asked a + deep voice. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, here he is, the dear friend! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O surprise extreme! + Grand Dieu! c’est lui-meme— +</pre> + <p> + alive and in the flesh.” + </p> + <p> + “And hungry,” said Gerfaut, as he dropped into a chair near the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to compose an opera in three acts, The Chaste Suzannah, + music by Meyerbeer?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like some supper first. Madame Gobillot, I beseech you, give me + something to eat. Thanks to your mountain air, I am almost starved.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur, we have been waiting two hours for you,” retorted the + landlady, as she made each stewpan dance in succession. + </p> + <p> + “That is a fact,” said the artist; “let us go into the dining-room, then. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Gia la mensa a preparata.” + </pre> + <p> + “While supping, I will explain my plans to you. I have just found a Daniel + in the ashes—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Marillac, drop your Daniel and Suzannah,” replied Gerfaut, as he + sat down to the table; “I have something much more important to talk to + you about.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. GERFAUT’S STORY + </h2> + <p> + While the two friends are devouring to the very last morsel the feast + prepared for them by Madame Gobillot, it may not be out of place to + explain in a few words the nature of the bonds that united these two men. + </p> + <p> + The Vicomte de Gerfaut was one of those talented beings who are the + veritable champions of an age when the lightest pen weighs more in the + social balance than our ancestors’ heaviest sword. He was born in the + south of France, of one of those old families whose fortune had diminished + each generation, their name finally being almost all that they had left. + After making many sacrifices to give their son an education worthy of his + birth, his parents did not live to enjoy the fruits of their efforts, and + Gerfaut became an orphan at the time when he had just finished his law + studies. He then abandoned the career of which his father had dreamed for + him, and the possibilities of a red gown bordered with ermine. A mobile + and highly colored imagination, a passionate love for the arts, and, more + than all, some intimacies contracted with men of letters, decided his + vocation and launched him into literature. + </p> + <p> + The ardent young man, without a murmur or any misgivings, drank to the + very dregs the cup poured out to neophytes in the harsh career of letters + by editors, theatrical managers, and publishers. With some, this course + ends in suicide, but it only cost Gerfaut a portion of his slender + patrimony; he bore this loss like a man who feels that he is strong enough + to repair it. When his plans were once made, he followed them up with + indefatigable perseverance, and became a striking example of the + irresistible power of intelligence united to will-power. Reputation, for + him, lay in the unknown depths of an arid and rocky soil; he was obliged, + in order to reach it, to dig a sort of artesian well. Gerfaut accepted + this heroic labor; he worked day and night for several years, his + forehead, metaphorically, bathed in a painful perspiration alleviated only + by hopes far away. At last the untiring worker’s drill struck the + underground spring over which so many noble ones breathlessly bend, + although their thirst is never quenched. At this victorious stroke, glory + burst forth, falling in luminous sparks, making this new name—his + name—flash with a brilliancy too dearly paid for not to be lasting. + </p> + <p> + At the time of which we speak, Octave had conquered every obstacle in the + literary field. With a versatility of talent which sometimes recalled + Voltaire’s “proteanism,” he attacked in succession the most difficult + styles. Besides their poetic value, his dramas had this positive merit, + the highest in the theatre world they were money-makers; so the managers + greeted him with due respect, while collaborators swarmed about him. The + journals paid for his articles in their weight in gold; reviews snatched + every line of his yet unfinished novels; his works were illustrated by + Porret and Tony Johannot—the masters of the day—and shone + resplendent behind the glass cases in the Orleans gallery. Gerfaut had at + last made a place for himself among that baker’s dozen of writers who call + themselves, and justly, too, the field-marshals of French literature, of + which Chateaubriand was then commander-in-chief. + </p> + <p> + What was it that had brought such a person a hundred leagues from the + opera balcony, to put on a pretty woman’s slipper? Was the fair lady one + of those caprices, so frequent and fleeting in an artist’s thoughts, or + had she given birth to one of those sentiments that end by absorbing the + rest of one’s life? + </p> + <p> + The young man seated opposite Gerfaut was, physically and morally, as + complete a contrast to him as one could possibly imagine. He was one of + the kind very much in request in fashionable society. There is not a + person who has not met one of these worthy fellows, destined to make good + officers, perfect merchants, and very satisfactory lawyers, but who, + unfortunately, have been seized with a mania for notoriety. Ordinarily + they think of it on account of somebody else’s talent. This one is brother + to a poet, another son-in-law to a historian; they conclude that they also + have a right to be poet and historian in their turn. Thomas Corneille is + their model; but we must admit that very few of our writers reach the rank + attained by Corneille the younger. + </p> + <p> + Marillac was train-bearer to Gerfaut, and was rewarded for this bondage by + a few bribes of collaboration, crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table. + They had been close friends since they both entered the law school, where + they were companions in folly rather than in study. Marillac also had + thrown himself into the arena of literature; then, different fortunes + having greeted the two friends’ efforts, he had descended little by little + from the role of a rival to that of an inferior. Marillac was an artist, + talent accepted, from the tip of his toes to the sole of his boots, which + he wished to lengthen by pointed toes out of respect for the Middle Ages; + for he excelled above all things in his manner of dressing, and possessed, + among other intellectual merits, the longest moustache in literature. + </p> + <p> + If he had not art in his brain, to make up for it he always had its name + at his tongue’s end. Vaudeville writing or painting, poetry or music, he + dabbled in all these, like those horses sold as good for both riding and + driving, which are as bad in the saddle as in front of a tilbury. He + signed himself “Marillac, man of letters”; meanwhile, aside from his + profound disdain for the bourgeois, whom he called vulgar, and for the + French Academy, to which he had sworn never to belong, one could reproach + him with nothing. His penchant for the picturesque in expression was not + always, it is true, in the most excellent taste, but, in spite of these + little oddities, his unfortunate passion for art, and his affection for + the Middle Ages, he was a brave, worthy, and happy fellow, full of good + qualities, very much devoted to his friends, above all to Gerfaut. One + could, therefore, pardon him for being a pseudo-artist. + </p> + <p> + “Will your story be a long one?” said he to the playwright, when Catherine + had conducted them after supper to the double-bedded room, where they were + to pass the night. + </p> + <p> + “Long or short, what does it matter, since you must listen to it?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, first, I would make some grog and fill my pipe; otherwise, I + would content myself with a cigar.” + </p> + <p> + “Take your pipe and make your grog.” + </p> + <p> + “Here!” said the artist, running after Catherine, “don’t rush downstairs + so. You are wanted. Fear nothing, interesting maid; you are safe with us; + but bring us a couple of glasses, brandy, sugar, a bowl, and some hot + water.” + </p> + <p> + “They want some hot water,” cried the servant, rushing into the kitchen + with a frightened look; “can they be ill at this hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Give the gentlemen what they want, you little simpleton!” replied + Mademoiselle Reine; “they probably want to concoct some of their Paris + drinks.” + </p> + <p> + When all the articles necessary for the grog were on the table, Marillac + drew up an old armchair, took another chair to stretch his legs upon, + replaced his cap with a handkerchief artistically knotted about his head, + his boots with a pair of slippers, and, finally, lighted his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, as he seated himself, “I will listen without moving an + eyelid should your story last, like the creation, six days and nights.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut took two or three turns about the room with the air of an orator + who is seeking for a beginning to a speech. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” said he, “that Fate has more or less influence over our lives, + according to the condition of mind in which we happen to be. In order that + you may understand the importance of the adventure I am about relating to + you, it will be necessary for me to picture the state of mind which I was + in at the time it happened; this will be a sort of philosophical and + psychological preamble.” + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” interrupted Marillac, “if I had known that, I would have + ordered a second bowl.” + </p> + <p> + “You will remember,” continued Gerfaut, paying no attention to this + pleasantry, “the rather bad attack of spleen which I had a little over a + year ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Before your trip to Switzerland?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “If I remember right,” said the artist, “you were strangely cross and + whimsical at the time. Was it not just after the failure of our drama at + the Porte Saint-Martin?” + </p> + <p> + “You might also add of our play at the Gymnase.” + </p> + <p> + “I wash my hands of that. You know very well that it only went as far as + the second act, and I did not write one word in the first.” + </p> + <p> + “And hardly one in the second. However, I take the catastrophe upon my + shoulders; that made two perfect failures in that d——d month + of August.” + </p> + <p> + “Two failures that were hard to swallow,” replied Marillac, “We can say, + for our consolation, that there never were more infamous conspiracies + against us, above all, than at the Gymnase. My ears ring with the hisses + yet! I could see, from our box, a little villain in a dress coat, in one + corner of the pit, who gave the signal with a whistle as large as a + horse-pistol. How I would have liked to cram it down his throat!” As he + said these words, he brought his fist down upon the table, and made the + glasses and candles dance ‘upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Conspiracy or not, this time they judged the play aright. I believe it + would be impossible to imagine two worse plays; but, as Brid Oison says, + ‘These are things that one admits only to himself’; it is always + disagreeable to be informed of one’s stupidity by an ignorant audience + that shouts after you like a pack of hounds after a hare. In spite of my + pretension of being the least susceptible regarding an author’s vanity of + all the writers in Paris, it is perfectly impossible to be indifferent to + such a thing—a hiss is a hiss. However, vanity aside, there was a + question of money which, as I have a bad habit of spending regularly my + capital as well as my income, was not without its importance. It meant, + according to my calculation, some sixty thousand francs cut off from my + resources, and my trip to the East was indefinitely postponed. + </p> + <p> + “They say, with truth, that misfortunes never come singly. You know + Melanie, whom I prevented from making her debut at the Vaudeville? By + taking her away from all society, lodging her in a comfortable manner and + obliging her to work, I rendered her a valuable service. She was a good + girl, and, aside from her love for the theatre and a certain indolence + that was not without charm, I did not find any fault in her and grew more + attached to her every day. Sometimes after spending long hours with her, a + fancy for a retired life and domestic happiness would seize me. Gentlemen + with brains are privileged to commit foolish acts at times, and I really + do not know what I might have ended in doing, had I not been preserved + from the danger in an unexpected manner. + </p> + <p> + “One evening, when I arrived at Melanie’s, I found the bird had flown. + That great ninny of a Ferussac, whom I never had suspected, and had + introduced to her myself, had turned her head by making capital out of her + love for the stage. As he was about to leave for Belgium, he persuaded her + to go there and dethrone Mademoiselle Prevost. I have since learned that a + Brussels banker revenged me by taking this Helene of the stage away from + Ferussac. Now she is launched and can fly with her own wings upon the + great highway of bravos, flowers, guineas—” + </p> + <p> + “And wreck and ruin,” added Marillac. “Here’s to her health!” + </p> + <p> + “This triple disappointment of pride, money, and heart did not cause, I + hope you will believe me, the deep state of melancholy into which I soon + fell; but the malady manifested itself upon this occasion, for it had been + lurking about me for a long time, as the dormant pain of a wound is + aroused if one pours a caustic upon its surface. + </p> + <p> + “There is some dominant power in each individual which is developed at the + expense of the other faculties, above all when the profession one chooses + suits his nature. The vital powers thus condensed manifest themselves + externally, and gush out with an abundance which would become impossible + if all the faculties were used alike, and if life filtered away, so to + speak. To avoid such destruction, and concentrate life upon one point, in + order to increase the action, is the price of talent and individuality. + Among athletes, the forehead contracts according as the chest enlarges; + with men of thought, it is the brain which causes the other organs to + suffer, insatiable vampire, exhausting at times the last drop of blood in + the body which serves as its victim. This vampire was my torturer. + </p> + <p> + “For ten years I had crowded romance upon poetry, vaudeville upon drama, + literary criticism upon leader; I proved, through my own self, in a + physical way, the phenomena of the absorption of the senses by + intelligence. Many times, after several nights of hard work, the chords of + my mind being too violently stretched, they relaxed and gave only + indistinct harmony. Then, if I happened to resist this lassitude of nature + demanding repose, I felt the pressure of my will exhausting the sources at + the very depths of my being. It seemed to me that I dug out my ideas from + the bottom of a mine, instead of gathering them upon the surface of the + brain. The more material organs came to the rescue of their failing chief. + The blood from my heart rushed to my head to revive it; the muscles of my + limbs communicated to the fibres of the brain their galvanic tension. + Nerves turned into imagination, flesh into life. Nothing has developed my + materialistic beliefs like this decarnation of which I had such a + sensible, or rather visible perception. + </p> + <p> + “I destroyed my health with these psychological experiments, and the abuse + of work perhaps shortened my life. When I was thirty years old my face was + wrinkled, my cheeks were pallid, and my heart blighted and empty. For what + result, grand Dieu! For a fleeting and fruitless renown! + </p> + <p> + “The failure of my two plays warned me that others judged me as I judged + myself. I recalled to mind the Archbishop of Granada, and I thought I + could hear Gil Blas predicting the failure of my works. We can not dismiss + the public as we can our secretary; meanwhile, I surrendered to a too + severe justice in order to decline others’ opinions. A horrible thought + suddenly came into my mind; my artistic life was ended, I was a worn-out + man; in one word, to picture my situation in a trivial but correct manner, + I had reached the end of my rope. + </p> + <p> + “I could not express to you the discouragement that I felt at this + conviction. Melanie’s infidelity was the crowning touch. It was not my + heart, but my vanity which had been rendered more irritable by recent + disappointments. This, then, was the end of all my ambitious dreams! I had + not enough mind left, at thirty years of age, to write a vaudeville or to + be loved by a grisette! + </p> + <p> + “One day Doctor Labanchie came to see me. + </p> + <p> + “‘What are you doing there’ said he, as he saw me seated at my desk. + </p> + <p> + “‘Doctor,’ said I, reaching out my hand to him, ‘I believe that I am a + little feverish.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Your pulse is a little rapid,’ said he, after making careful + examination, ‘but your fever is more of imagination than of blood.’ + </p> + <p> + “I explained to him my condition, which was now becoming almost + unendurable. Without believing in medicine very much, I had confidence in + him and knew him to be a man who would give good advice. + </p> + <p> + “‘You work too much,’ said he, shaking his head. ‘Your brain is put to too + strong a tension. This is a warning nature gives you, and you will make a + mistake if you do not follow it. When you are sleepy, go to bed; when you + are tired, you must have rest. It is rest for your brain that you now + need. Go into the country, confine yourself to a regular and healthy diet: + vegetables, white meat, milk in the morning, a very little wine, but, + above all things, no coffee. Take moderate exercise, hunt—and avoid + all irritating thoughts; read the ‘Musee des familles’ or the ‘Magasin + Pittoresque’. This regime will have the effect of a soothing poultice upon + your brain, and before the end of six months you will be in your normal + condition again.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Six months!’ I exclaimed. ‘You wretch of a doctor, tell me, then, to let + my beard and nails grow like Nebuchadnezzar. Six months! You do not know + how I detest the country, partridges, rabbits and all. For heaven’s sake, + find some other remedy for me.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘There is homoeopathy,’ said he, smiling. ‘Hahnemann is quite the fashion + now.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Let us have homoeopathy!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You know the principles of the system: ‘Similia similibus!’ If you have + fever, redouble it; if you have smallpox, be inoculated with a triple + dose. So far as you are concerned, you are a little used up and ‘blase’, + as we all are in this Babylon of ours; have recourse, then, as a remedy, + to the very excesses which have brought you into this state. Homoeopathize + yourself morally. It may cure you, it may kill you; I wash my hands of + it.’ + </p> + <p> + “The doctor was joking, I said to myself after he had left. Does he think + that passions are like the Wandering Jew’s five sous, that there is + nothing to do but to put your hand in your pocket and take them out at + your convenience when necessary. However, this idea, strange as it seemed, + struck me forcibly. I decided to try it. + </p> + <p> + “The next day at seven o’clock in the evening, I was rolling along the + road to Lyons. Eight days later, I was rowing in a boat on Lake Geneva. + For a long time I had wanted to go to Switzerland, and it seemed as if I + could not have chosen a better time. I hoped that the fresh mountain air + and the soft pure breezes from the lakes would communicate some of their + calm serenity to my heart and brain. + </p> + <p> + “There is something in Parisian life, I do not know what, so exclusive and + hardening, that it ends by making one irresponsive to sensations of a more + simple order. + </p> + <p> + “‘My kingdom for the gutter in the Rue du Bac!’ I exclaimed with Madame de + Stael from the height of the Coppet terrace. The spectacle of nature + interests only contemplative and religious minds powerfully. Mine was + neither the one nor the other. My habits of analysis and observation make + me find more attraction in a characteristic face than in a magnificent + landscape; I prefer the exercising of thought to the careless + gratification of ecstasy, the study of flesh and soul to earthly horizons, + of human passions to a perfectly pure atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + “I met at Geneva an Englishman, who was as morose as myself. We vented our + spleen in common and were both bored together. We travelled thus through + the Oberland and the best part of Valais; we were often rolled up in our + travelling robes in the depths of the carriage, and fast asleep when the + most beautiful points of interest were in sight. + </p> + <p> + “From Valais we went to Mont-Blanc, and one night we arrived at Chamounix—” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see any idiots in Valais?” suddenly interrupted Marillac, as he + filled his pipe the second time. + </p> + <p> + “Several, and they were all horrible.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not think we might compose something with an idiot in it? It might + be rather taking.” + </p> + <p> + “It would not equal Caliban or Quasimodo; will you be so kind as to spare + me just now these efforts of imagination, and listen to me, for I am + reaching the interesting part of my story?” + </p> + <p> + “God be praised!” said the artist, as he puffed out an enormous cloud of + smoke. + </p> + <p> + “The next day the Englishman was served with tea in his bedroom, and when + I asked him to go to the ‘Mer de Glace’ he turned his head toward the + wall; so, leaving my phlegmatic companion enveloped in bedclothes up to + his ears, I started alone for the Montanvert. + </p> + <p> + “It was a magnificent morning, and small parties of travellers, some on + foot, others mounted, skirted the banks of the Arve or climbed the sides + of the mountain. They looked like groups of mice in the distance, and this + extreme lessening in size made one comprehend, better than anything else, + the immense proportions of the landscape. As for myself, I was alone: I + had not even taken a guide, this was too favorite a resort for tourists, + for the precaution to be necessary. For a wonder, I felt rather gay, with + an elasticity of body and mind which I had not felt in some time. + </p> + <p> + “I courageously began climbing the rough pathway which led to the Mer de + Glace, aiding myself with a long staff, which I had procured at the inn. + </p> + <p> + “At every step I breathed with renewed pleasure the fresh, pure, morning + air; I gazed vaguely at the different effects of the sun or mist, at the + undulations of the road, which sometimes rose almost straight up in the + air, sometimes followed a horizontal line, while skirting the open abyss + at the right. The Arve, wending its course like a silvery ribbon, seemed + at times to recede, while the ridges of the perpendicular rocks stood out + more plainly. At times, the noise of a falling avalanche was repeated, + echo after echo. A troupe of German students below me were responding to + the voice of the glaciers by a chorus from Oberon. Following the turns in + the road, I could see through the fir-trees, or, rather, at my feet, their + long Teutonic frock-coats, their blond beards, and caps about the size of + one’s fist. As I walked along, when the path was not too steep, I amused + myself by throwing my stick against the trunks of the trees which bordered + the roadside; I remember how pleased I was when I succeeded in hitting + them, which I admit was not very often. + </p> + <p> + “In the midst of this innocent amusement, I reached the spot where the + reign of the Alpine plants begins. All at once I saw, above me, a rock + decked with rhododendrons; these flowers looked like tufts of oleanders + through the dark foliage of the fir-trees, and produced a charming effect. + I left the path in order to reach them sooner, and when I had gathered a + bouquet, I threw my staff and at the same time uttered a joyous cry, in + imitation of the students, my companions on this trip. + </p> + <p> + “A frightened scream responded to mine. My staff in its flight had crossed + the path and darted into an angle in the road. At that same moment, I saw + a mule’s head appear with ears thrown back in terror, then the rest of its + body, and upon its back a lady ready to fall into the abyss. Fright + paralyzed me. All aid was impossible on account of the narrowness of the + road, and this stranger’s life depended upon her coolness and the + intelligence of her beast. Finally the animal seemed to regain its courage + and began to walk away, lowering its head as if it could still hear the + terrible whistle of the javelin in his ears. I slipped from the rock upon + which I stood and seized the mule by the bridle, and succeeded in getting + them out of a bad position. I led the animal in this way for some + distance, until I reached a place where the path was broader, and danger + was over. + </p> + <p> + “I then offered my apologies to the person whose life I had just + compromised by my imprudence, and for the first time took a good look at + her. She was young and well dressed; a black silk gown fitted her slender + form to perfection; her straw hat was fastened to the saddle, and her long + chestnut hair floated in disorder over her pale cheeks. As she heard my + voice, she opened her eyes, which in her fright she had instinctively + closed; they seemed to me the most beautiful I had ever seen in my life. + </p> + <p> + “She looked at the precipice and turned away with a shudder. Her glance + rested upon me, and then upon the rhododendrons which I held in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “The frightened expression on her face was replaced immediately by one of + childish curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “‘What pretty flowers!’ she exclaimed, in a fresh, young voice. ‘Are those + rhododendrons, Monsieur?’ + </p> + <p> + “I presented her my bouquet without replying; as she hesitated about + taking it, I said: + </p> + <p> + “‘If you refuse these flowers, Madame, I shall not believe that you have + pardoned me.’ + </p> + <p> + “By this time, the persons who were with her had joined us. There were two + other ladies, three or four men mounted upon mules, and several guides. At + the word rhododendron, a rather large, handsome fellow, dressed in a + pretentious style, slipped from his mule and climbed the somewhat steep + precipice in quest of the flowers which seemed to be so much in favor. + When he returned, panting for breath, with an enormous bunch of them in + his hand, the lady had already accepted mine. + </p> + <p> + “‘Thank you, Monsieur de Mauleon,’ said she, with a rather scornful air; + ‘offer your flowers to these ladies.’ Then, with a slight inclination of + the head to me, she struck her mule with her whip, and they rode away. + </p> + <p> + “The rest of the company followed her, gazing at me as they passed, the + big, fashionable fellow especially giving me a rather impertinent glance. + I did not try to pick a quarrel with him on account of this discourteous + manifestation. When the cavalcade was at some distance, I went in search + of my stick, which I found under a tree on the edge of the precipice; then + I continued climbing the steep path, with my eyes fastened upon the rider + in the black silk gown, her hair flying in the wind and my bouquet in her + hand. + </p> + <p> + “A few moments later, I reached the pavilion at the Montanvert, where I + found a gay company gathered together, made up principally of English + people. As for myself, I must admit the frivolous, or, rather mundane, + bent of my tastes; the truly admirable spectacle presented to my eyes + interested me much less than the young stranger, who at this moment was + descending with the lightness of a sylph the little road which led to the + Mer de Glace. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what mysterious link bound me to this woman. I had met many + much more beautiful, but the sight of them had left me perfectly + indifferent. This one attracted me from the first. The singular + circumstances of this first interview, doubtless, had something to do with + the impression. I felt glad to see that she had kept my bouquet; she held + it in one hand, while she leaned with the other upon a staff somewhat like + my own. The two other ladies, and even the men had stopped on the edge of + the ice. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Mauleon wished to fulfil his duties as escort, but at the + first crevasse he had also halted without manifesting the slightest desire + to imitate the chamois. The young woman seemed to take a malicious + pleasure in contemplating her admirer’s prudent attitude, and, far from + listening to the advice he gave her, she began to run upon the ice, + bounding over the crevasses with the aid of her stick. I was admiring her + lightness and thoughtlessness, but with an uneasy feeling, when I saw her + suddenly stop. I instinctively ran toward her. An enormous crevasse of + great depth lay at her feet, blue at its edges and dark in its depths. She + stood motionless before this frightful gulf with hands thrown out before + her in horror, but charmed like a bird about to be swallowed by a serpent. + I knew the irresistible effect upon nervous temperaments of this magnetic + attraction toward an abyss. I seized her by the arm, the suddenness of the + movement made her drop her staff and flowers, which fell into the depths + of the chasm. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to lead her away, but after she had taken a few steps, I felt her + totter; she had grown pale; her eyes were closed. I threw my arm about + her, in order to support her and turned her face toward the north; the + cold air striking her revived her, and she soon opened her beautiful brown + eyes. I do not know what sudden tenderness seized me then, but I pressed + this lovely creature within my grasp, and she remained in my arms + unresistingly. I felt that I loved her already. + </p> + <p> + “She remained for a moment with her languishing eyes fixed on mine, making + no response, perhaps not even having heard me. The shouts of her party, + some of whom were coming toward her, broke the charm. With a rapid + movement, she withdrew from my embrace, and I offered her my arm, just as + if we were in a drawing-room and I was about to lead her out for a dance; + she took it, but I did not feel elated at this, for I could feel her knees + waver at every step. The smallest crevasse, which she had crossed before + with such agility, now inspired her with a horror which I could divine by + the trembling of her arm within mine. I was obliged to make numerous + detours in order to avoid them, and thus prolonged the distance, for which + I was not sorry. Did I not know that when we reached our destination, the + world, that other sea of ice, was going to take her away from me, perhaps + forever? We walked silently, occasionally making a few trivial remarks, + both deeply embarrassed. When we reached the persons who awaited her, I + said, as she disengaged my arm: + </p> + <p> + “‘You dropped my flowers, Madame; will it be the same with your memory of + me?’ + </p> + <p> + “She looked at me, but made no reply. I loved this silence. I bowed + politely to her and returned to the pavilion, while she related her + adventure to her friends; but I am quite sure she did not tell all the + details. + </p> + <p> + “The register for travellers who visit the Montan-Vert is a mixture of all + nationalities, and no tourist refuses his tribute; modest ones write down + their names only. I hoped in this way to learn the name of the young + traveller, and I was not disappointed. I soon saw the corpulent Monsieur + de Mauleon busily writing his name upon the register in characters worthy + of Monsieur Prudhomme; the other members of the little party followed his + example. The young woman was the last to write down her name. I took the + book in my turn, after she had left, and with apparent composure I read + upon the last line these words, written in a slender handwriting: + </p> + <p> + “Baroness Clemence de Bergenheim.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. GERFAUT ASKS A FAVOR + </h2> + <p> + “The Baroness de Bergenheim!” exclaimed Marillac. “Ah! I understand it all + now, and you may dispense with the remainder of your story. So this was + the reason why, instead of visiting the banks of the Rhine as we agreed, + you made me leave the route at Strasbourg under the pretext of walking + through the picturesque sites of the Vosges. It was unworthy of you to + abuse my confidence as a friend. And I allowed myself to be led by the + nose to within a mile of Bergenheim!” + </p> + <p> + “Peace,” interrupted Gerfaut; “I have not finished. Smoke and listen. + </p> + <p> + “I followed Madame de Bergenheim as far as Geneva. She had gone there from + here with her aunt, and had availed herself of this journey to visit Mont + Blanc. She left for her home the next day without my meeting her again; + but I preserved her name, and it was not unknown to me. I had heard it + spoken in several houses in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and I knew that I + should certainly have an opportunity of meeting her during the winter. + </p> + <p> + “So I remained at Geneva, yielding to a sensation as new as it was + strange. It first acted upon my brain whose ice I felt melting away, and + its sources ready to gush forth. I seized my pen with a passion not unlike + an access of rage. I finished in four days two acts of a drama that I was + then writing. I never had written anything more vigorous or more highly + colored. My unconstrained genius throbbed in my arteries, ran through my + blood, and bubbled over as if it wished to burst forth. My hand could not + keep even with the course of my imagination; I was obliged to write in + hieroglyphics. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu to the empty reveries brought about by spleen, and to the + meditations ‘a la Werther’! The sky was blue, the air pure, life + delightful—my talent was not dead. + </p> + <p> + “After this first effort, I slackened a little! Madame de Bergenheim’s + face, which I had seen but dimly during this short time, returned to me in + a less vaporous form; I took extreme delight in calling to mind the + slightest circumstances of our meeting, the smallest details of her + features, her toilette, her manner of walking and carrying her head. What + had impressed me most was the extreme softness of her dark eyes, the + almost childish tone of her voice, a vague odor of heliotrope with which + her hair was perfumed; also the touch of her hand upon my arm. I sometimes + caught myself embracing myself in order to feel this last sensation again, + and then I could not help laughing at my thoughts, which were worthy of a + fifteen-year-old lover. + </p> + <p> + “I had felt so convinced of my powerlessness to love, that the thought of + a serious passion did not at first enter my mind. However, a remembrance + of my beautiful traveller pervaded my thoughts more and more, and + threatened to usurp the place of everything else. I then subjected myself + to a rigid analysis; I sought for the exact location of this sentiment + whose involuntary yoke I already felt; I persuaded myself, for some time + yet, that it was only the transient excitement of my brain, one of those + fevers of imagination whose fleeting titillations I had felt more than + once. + </p> + <p> + “But I realized that the evil, or the good—for why call love an + evil?—had penetrated into the most remote regions of my being, and I + realized the energy of my struggle like a person entombed who tries to + extricate himself. From the ashes of this volcano which I had believed to + be extinct, a flower had suddenly blossomed, perfumed with the most + fragrant of odors and decked with the most charming colors. Artless + enthusiasm, faith in love, all the brilliant array of the fresh illusions + of my youth returned, as if by enchantment, to greet this new bloom of my + life; it seemed to me as if I had been created a second time, since I was + aided by intelligence and understood its mysteries while tasting of its + delights. My past, in the presence of this regeneration, was nothing more + than a shadow at the bottom of an abyss. I turned toward the future with + the faith of a Mussulman who kneels with his face toward the East—I + loved! + </p> + <p> + “I returned to Paris, and applied to my friend Casorans, who knows the + Faubourg Saint-Germain from Dan to Beersheba. + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame de Bergenheim,’ he said to me, ‘is a very popular society woman, + not very pretty, perhaps, rather clever, though, and very amiable. She is + one of our coquettes of the old nobility, and with her twenty-four carats’ + virtue she always has two sufferers attached to her chariot, and a third + on the waiting-list, and yet it is impossible for one to find a word to + say against her behavior. Just at this moment, Mauleon and d’Arzenac + compose the team; I do not know who is on the waiting-list. She will + probably spend the winter here with her aunt, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, + one of the hatefullest old women on the Rue de Varennes. The husband is a + good fellow who, since the July revolution, has lived upon his estates, + caring for his forests and killing wild boars without troubling himself + much about his wife.’ + </p> + <p> + “He then told me which houses these ladies frequented, and left me, saying + with a knowing air: + </p> + <p> + “‘Take care, if you intend to try the power of your seductions upon the + little Baroness; whoever meddles with her smarts for it!’ + </p> + <p> + “This information from a viper like Casorans satisfied me in every way. + Evidently the place was not taken; impregnable, that was another thing. + </p> + <p> + “Before Madame de Bergenheim’s return, I began to show myself assiduously + at the houses of which my friend had spoken. My position in the Faubourg + Saint-Germain is peculiar, but good, according to my opinion. I have + enough family ties to be sustained by several should I be attacked by + many, and this is the essential point. It is true that, thanks to my + works, I am regarded as an atheist and a Jacobin; aside from these two + little defects, they think well enough of me. Besides, it is a notorious + fact that I have rejected several offers from the present government, and + refused last year the ‘croix d’honneur’; this makes amends and washes away + half my sins. Finally, I have the reputation of having a certain-knowledge + of heraldry, which I owe to my uncle, a confirmed hunter after + genealogical claims. This gains me a respect which makes me laugh + sometimes, when I see people who detest me greet me as cordially as the + Cure of Saint-Eustache greeted Bayle, for fear that I might destroy their + favorite saint. However, in this society, I am no longer Gerfaut of the + Porte-Saint-Martin, but I am the Vicomte de Gerfaut. Perhaps, with your + bourgeois ideas, you do not understand—” + </p> + <p> + “Bourgeois!” exclaimed Marillac, bounding from his seat, “what are you + talking about? Do you wish that we should cut each other’s throats before + breakfast to-morrow? Bourgeois! why not grocer? I am an artist—don’t + you know that by this time?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t get angry, my dear fellow; I meant to say that in certain places + the title of a Vicomte has still a more powerful attraction than you, with + your artistic but plebeian ideas, would suppose in this year of our Lord + 1832.” + </p> + <p> + “Well and good. I accept your apology.” + </p> + <p> + “A vicomte’s title is a recommendation in the eyes of people who still + cling to the baubles of nobility, and all women are of this class. There + is something, I know not what, delicate and knightly in this title, which + suits a youngish bachelor. Duke above all titles is the one that sounds + the best. Moliere and Regnard have done great harm to the title of + marquis. Count is terribly bourgeois, thanks to the senators of the + empire. As to a Baron, unless he is called Montmorency or Beaufremont, it + is the lowest grade of nobility; vicomte, on the contrary, is above + reproach; it exhales a mixed odor of the old regime and young France; + then, don’t you know, our Chateaubriand was a vicomte. + </p> + <p> + “I departed from my subject in speaking of nobility. I accidentally turned + over one day to the article upon my family in the Dictionnaire de + Saint-Allais; I found that one of my ancestors, Christophe de Gerfaut, + married, in 1569, a Mademoiselle Yolande de Corandeuil. + </p> + <p> + “‘O my ancestor! O my ancestress!’ I exclaimed, ‘you had strange baptismal + names; but no matter, I thank you. You are going to serve me as a + grappling iron; I shall be very unskilful if at the very first meeting the + old aunt escapes Christophe.’ + </p> + <p> + “A few days later I went to the Marquise de Chameillan’s, one of the most + exclusive houses in the noble Faubourg. When I enter her drawing-room, I + usually cause the same sensation that Beelzebub would doubtless produce + should he put his foot into one of the drawing-rooms in Paradise. That + evening, when I was announced, I saw a certain undulation of heads in a + group of young women who were whispering to one another; many curious eyes + were fastened upon me, and among these beautiful eyes were two more + beautiful than all the others: they were those of my bewitching traveller. + </p> + <p> + “I exchanged a rapid glance with her, one only; after paying my respects + to the mistress of the house, I mingled with a crowd of men, and entered + into conversation with an old peer upon some political question, avoiding + to look again toward Madame de Bergenheim. + </p> + <p> + “A moment later, Madame de Chameillan came to ask the peer to play whist; + he excused himself, he could not remain late. + </p> + <p> + “‘I dare not ask you to play with Mademoiselle de Corandeuil,’ said she, + turning toward me; ‘besides, I understand too well that it is to my + interest and the pleasure of these ladies, not to exile you to a whist + table.’ + </p> + <p> + “I took the card which she half offered me with an eagerness which might + have made her suppose that I had become a confirmed whist expert during my + voyage. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle de Corandeuil certainly was the ugly, crabbed creature that + Casorans had described; but had she been as frightful as the witches in + Macbeth I was determined to make her conquest. So I began playing with + unusual attention. I was her partner, and I knew from experience the + profound horror which the loss of money inspires in old women. Thank + heaven, we won! Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who has an income of one + hundred thousand francs, was not at all indifferent to the gain of two or + three louis. She, therefore, with an almost gracious air, congratulated + me, as we left the table, upon my manner of playing. + </p> + <p> + “‘I would willingly contract an alliance, offensive and defensive with + you,’ said she to me. + </p> + <p> + “‘The alliance is already contracted, Mademoiselle,’ said I, seizing the + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “‘How is that, Monsieur?’ she replied, raising her head with a dignified + air, as if she were getting ready to rebuke some impertinent speech. + </p> + <p> + “I also gravely straightened up and gave a feudal look to my face. + </p> + <p> + “‘Mademoiselle, I have the honor of belonging to your family, a little + distantly, to be sure; that is what makes me speak of an alliance between + us as a thing already concluded. One of my ancestors, Christophe de + Gerfaut, married Mademoiselle Yolande de Corandeuil, one of your + great-grand-aunts, in 1569.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yolande is really a family name,’ replied the old lady, with the most + affable smile that her face would admit; ‘I bear it myself. The + Corandeuils, Monsieur, never have denied their alliances, and it is a + pleasure for me to recognize my relationship with such a man as you. We + address by the title of cousin relatives as far back as 1300.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I am nearer related to you by three centuries,’ I replied, in my most + insinuating voice; ‘may I hope that this good fortune will authorize me to + pay my respects to you?’ + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle de Corandeuil replied to my ‘tartuferie’ by granting me + permission to call upon her. My attention was not so much absorbed in our + conversation that I did not see in a mirror, during this time, the + interest with which Madame de Bergenheim watched my conversation with her + aunt; but I was careful not to turn around, and I let her take her + departure without giving her a second glance. + </p> + <p> + “Three days later, I made my first call. Madame de Bergenheim received my + greeting like a woman who had been warned and was, therefore, prepared. We + exchanged only one rapid, earnest glance, that was all. Availing myself of + the presence of other callers, numerous enough to assure each one his + liberty, I began to observe, with a practised eye, the field whereon I had + just taken my position. + </p> + <p> + “Before the end of the evening, I recognized the correctness of Casorans’s + information. Among all the gentlemen present I found only two professed + admirers: Monsieur de Mauleon, whose insignificance was notorious, and + Monsieur d’Arzenac, who appeared at first glance as if he might be more to + be feared. D’Arzenac, thanks to an income of ten thousand livres, beside + being a man of rank, occupies also one of the finest positions that one + could desire; he is not unworthy of his name and his fortune. + Irreproachable in morals as in manners; sufficiently well informed; of an + exquisite but reserved politeness; understanding perfectly the ground that + he is walking upon; making also more advances than is customary among the + pachas of modern France, he was, without doubt, the flower of the flock in + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s drawing-room. In spite of all these + advantages, an attentive examination showed me that his passion was + hopeless. Madame de Bergenheim received his attentions very kindly—too + kindly. She usually listened to him with a smile in which one could read + gratitude for the devotion he lavished upon her. She willingly accepted + him as her favorite partner in the galop, which he danced to perfection. + His success stopped there. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of several days, the ground having been carefully explored and + the admirers, dangerous and otherwise, having been passed in review, one + after another, I felt convinced that Clemence loved nobody. + </p> + <p> + “‘She shall love me,’ said I, on the day I reached this conclusion. In + order to formulate in a decisive manner the accomplishment of my desire, I + relied upon the following propositions, which are to me articles of faith. + </p> + <p> + “No woman is unattainable, except when she loves another. Thus, a woman + who does not love, and who has resisted nine admirers, will yield to the + tenth. The only question for me was to be the tenth. Here began the + problem to be solved. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Bergenheim had been married only three years; her husband, who + was good-looking and young, passed for a model husband; if these latter + considerations were of little importance, the first was of great weight. + According to all probability, it was too soon for any serious attack. + Without being beautiful, she pleased much and many; a second obstacle, + since sensibility in women is almost always developed in inverse ratio to + their success. She had brains; she was wonderfully aristocratic in all her + tastes. + </p> + <p> + “Last, being very much the fashion, sought after and envied, she was under + the special surveillance of pious persons, old maids, retired beauties in + one word, all that feminine mounted police, whose eyes, ears, and mouths + seem to have assumed the express mission of annoying sensitive hearts + while watching over the preservation of good morals. + </p> + <p> + “This mass of difficulties, none of which escaped me, traced as many lines + upon my forehead as if I had been commanded to solve at once all the + propositions in Euclid. She shall love me! these words flashed unceasingly + before my eyes; but the means to attain this end? No satisfactory plan + came to me. Women are so capricious, deep, and unfathomable! It is, with + them, the thing soonest done which is soonest ended! A false step, the + least awkwardness, a want of intelligence, a quarter of an hour too soon + or too late! One thing only was evident: it needed a grand display of + attractions, a complete plan of gallant strategy; but, then, what more? + </p> + <p> + “That earthly paradise of the Montanvert was far from us, where I had been + able in less time than it would take to walk over a quadrille, to expose + her to death, to save her afterward, and finally to say to her ‘I love + you!’ Passion in drawing-rooms is not allowed those free, dramatic ways; + flowers fade in the candle-light; the oppressive atmosphere of balls and + fetes stifles the heart, so ready to dilate in pure mountain air. The + unexpected and irresistible influence of the glacier would have been + improper and foolish in Paris. There, an artless sympathy, stronger than + social conventions, had drawn us to each other—Octave and Clemence. + Here, she was the Baroness de Bergenheim, and I the Vicomte de Gerfaut. I + must from necessity enter the ordinary route, begin the romance at the + first page, without knowing how to connect the prologue with it. + </p> + <p> + “What should be my plan of campaign? + </p> + <p> + “Should I pose as an agreeable man, and try to captivate her attention and + good graces by the minute attentions and delicate flattery which + constitute what is classically called paying court? But D’Arzenac had + seized this role, and filled it in such a superior way that all + competition would be unsuccessful. I saw where this had led him. It + needed, in order to inflame this heart, a more active spark than foppish + gallantry; the latter flatters the vanity without reaching the heart. + </p> + <p> + “There was the passionate method—ardent, burning, fierce love. There + are some women upon whom convulsive sighs drawn from the depths of the + stomach, eyebrows frowning in a fantastic manner, and eyes in which only + the whites are to be seen and which seem to say: ‘Love me, or I will kill + you!’ produce a prodigious effect. I had myself felt the power of this + fascination while using it one day upon a softhearted blond creature who + thought it delightful to have a Blue-Beard for a lover. But the drooping + corners of Clemence’s mouth showed at times an ironical expression which + would have cooled down even an Othello’s outbursts. + </p> + <p> + “‘She has brains, and she knows it,’ said I to myself; ‘shall I attack her + in that direction?’ Women rather like such a little war of words; it gives + them an opportunity for displaying a mine of pretty expressions, piquant + pouts, fresh bursts of laughter, graceful peculiarities of which they well + know the effect. Should I be the Benedict to this Beatrice? But this + by-play would hardly fill the prologue, and I very much wished to reach + the epilogue. + </p> + <p> + “I passed in review the different routes that a lover might take to reach + his end; I recapitulated every one of the more or less infallible methods + of conquering female hearts; in a word, I went over my tactics like a + lieutenant about to drill a battalion of recruits. When I had ended I had + made no farther advance than before. + </p> + <p> + “‘To the devil with systems!’ exclaimed I; ‘I will not be so foolish as + wilfully to adopt the role of roue when I feel called upon to play the + plain role of true lover. Let those who like play the part of Lovelace! As + for myself, I will love; upon the whole, that is what pleases best.’ And I + jumped headlong into the torrent without troubling myself as to the place + of landing. + </p> + <p> + “While I was thus scheming my attack, Madame de Bergenheim was upon her + guard and had prepared her means of defence. Puzzled by my reserve, which + was in singular contrast with my almost extravagant conduct at our first + meeting, her woman’s intelligence had surmised, on my part, a plan which + she proposed to baffle. I was partly found out, but I knew it and thus + kept the advantage. + </p> + <p> + “I could not help smiling at the Baroness’s clever coquetry, when I + decided to follow the inspirations of my heart, instead of choosing + selfish motives as my guide. Every time I took her hand when dancing with + her, I expected to feel a little claw ready to pierce the cold glove. But, + while waiting for the scratch, it was a very soft, velvety little hand + that was given me; and I, who willingly lent myself to her deception, did + not feel very much duped. It was evident that the sort of halo which my + merited or unmerited reputation had thrown over me had made me appear to + her as a conquest of some value, a victim upon whom one could lavish just + enough flowers in order to bring him to the sacrificial altar. In order to + wind the first chain around my neck, Mauleon and D’Arzenac, ‘a tutti + quanti’, were sacrificed for me without my soliciting, even by a glance, + this general disbandment. I could interpret this discharge. I saw that the + fair one wished to concentrate all her seductions against me, so as to + leave me no means of escape; people neglect the hares to hunt for the + deer. You must excuse my conceit. + </p> + <p> + “This conduct wounded me at first, but I afterward forgave her, when a + more careful examination taught me to know this adorable woman’s + character. Coquetry was with her not a vice of the heart or of an + unscrupulous mind; having nothing better to do, she enjoyed it as a + legitimate pastime, without giving it any importance or feeling any + scruples. Like all women, she liked to please; her success was sweet to + her vanity; perhaps flattery turned her head at times, but in the midst of + this tumult her heart remained in perfect peace. She found so little + danger for herself in the game she played that it did not seem to her that + it could be very serious for others. Genuine love is not common enough in + Parisian parlors for a pretty woman to conceive any great remorse at + pleasing without loving. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Bergenheim was thus, ingenuously, unsuspectingly, a matchless + coquette. Never having loved, not even her husband, she looked upon her + little intriguing as one of the rights earned on the day of her marriage, + the same as her diamonds and cashmeres. There was something touching in + the sound of her voice and in her large, innocent eyes which she sometimes + allowed to rest upon mine, without thinking to turn them away, and which + said, ‘I have never loved.’ As for myself, I believed it all; one is so + happy to believe! + </p> + <p> + “Far from being annoyed at the trap she laid for me, I, on the contrary, + ran my head into it and presented my neck to the yoke with a docility + which must have amused her, I think; but I hoped not to bear it alone. A + coquette who coolly flaunts her triumphs to the world resembles those + master-swimmers who, while spectators are admiring the grace of their + poses, are struck by an unexpected current; the performer is sometimes + swept away and drowned without his elegant strokes being of much service + to him. Throw Celimene into the current of genuine passion—I do not + mean the brutality of Alceste—I will wager that coquetry will be + swept away by love. I had such faith in mine that I thought to be able to + fix the moment when I should call myself victorious and sure of being + obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “You know that sadness and ennui were considered etiquette last winter, in + a certain society, which was thrown into mourning by the July revolution. + Reunions were very few; there were no balls or soirees; dancing in + drawing-rooms to the piano was hardly permissible, even with intimate + friends. When once I was installed in Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s + drawing-room upon a friendly footing, this cessation of worldly + festivities gave me an opportunity to see Clemence in a rather intimate + way. + </p> + <p> + “It would take too long to tell you now all the thousand and one little + incidents which compose the history of all passions. Profiting by her + coquetry, which made her receive me kindly in order to make me expiate my + success afterward, my love for her was soon an understood thing between + us; she listened to me in a mocking way, but did not dispute my right to + speak. She ended by receiving my letters, after being constrained to do so + through a course of strategies in which, truly, I showed incredible + invention. I was listened to and she read my letters; I asked for nothing + more. + </p> + <p> + “My love, from the first, had been her secret as well as mine; but every + day I made to sparkle some unexpected facet of this prism of a thousand + colors. Even after telling her a hundred times how much I adored her, my + love still had for her the attraction of the unknown. I really had + something inexhaustible in my heart, and I was sure, in the end, to + intoxicate her with this philtre, which I constantly poured out and which + she drank, while making sport of it like a child. + </p> + <p> + “One day I found her thoughtful and silent. She did not reply to me with + her usual sprightliness during the few moments that I was able to talk + with her; the expression of her eyes had changed; there was something + deeper and less glowing in their depths; instead of dazzling me by their + excessive splendor, as had often happened to me before, they seemed to + soften as they rested on mine; she kept her eyelids a trifle lowered, as + if she were tired of being gazed at by me. Her voice, as she spoke, had a + low, soft sound, a sort of inexplicable something which came from the very + depths of her soul. She never had looked at me with that glance or spoken + to me in that tone before. Upon that day I knew that she loved me. + </p> + <p> + “I returned to my home unutterably happy, for I loved this woman with a + love of which I believed myself incapable. + </p> + <p> + “When I met Madame de Bergenheim again, I found her completely changed + toward me; an icy gravity, an impassible calm, an ironical and disdainful + haughtiness had taken the place of the delicious abandon of her former + bearing. In spite of my strong determination to allow myself to love with + the utmost candor, it was impossible for me to return to that happy age + when the frowning brows of the beautiful idol to whom we paid court + inspired us with the resolve to drown ourselves. I could not isolate + myself from my past experiences. My heart was rejuvenated, but my head + remained old. I was, therefore, not in the least discouraged by this + change of humor, and the fit of anger which it portended. + </p> + <p> + “‘Now,’ said I to myself, ‘there is an end to coquetry, it is beaten on + all sides; it is gone, never to return. She has seen that the affair is a + little too deep for that, and the field not tenable. She will erect + barriers in order to defend herself and will no longer attack.’ Thus we + pass from the period of amiable smiles, sweet glances, and half-avowals to + that of severity and prudery, while waiting for the remorse and despair of + the denouement. I am sure that at this time she called to her help all her + powers of resistance. From that day she would retreat behind the line of + duty, conjugal fidelity, honor, and all the other fine sentiments which + would need numbering after the fashion of Homer. At the first attack, all + this household battalion would make a furious sortie; should I succeed in + overthrowing them and take up my quarters in the trenches, there would + then be a gathering of the reserve force, and boiling oil or tar would + rain upon my head, representing virtue, religion, heaven, and hell.” + </p> + <p> + “A sort of conjugal earthquake,” interrupted Marillac. + </p> + <p> + “I calculated the strength and approximate duration of these means of + defence. The whole thing appeared to me only a question of time, a few + days or weeks at most—so long on the husband’s account, so long on + the father confessor’s account. I deserved to be boxed on the ears for my + presumption; I was. + </p> + <p> + “A combat is necessary in order to secure a victory. In spite of all my + efforts and ruses, it was not possible for me to fight this combat; I did + not succeed, in spite of all my challenges, in shattering, as I expected, + this virtuous conjugal fortress. Madame de Bergenheim still persisted in + her systematic reserve, with incredible prudence and skill. During the + remainder of the winter, I did not find more than one opportunity of + speaking to her alone. As I was a permanent fixture every evening in her + aunt’s parlors, she entered them only when other guests were there. She + never went out alone, and in every place where I was likely to meet her I + was sure to find a triple rampart of women erected between us, through + which it was impossible to address one word to her. In short, I was + encountering a desperate resistance; and, yet, she loved me! I could see + her cheeks gradually grow pale; her brilliant eyes often had dark rings + beneath them, as if sleep had deserted her. Sometimes, when she thought + she was not observed, I surprised them fastened upon me; but she + immediately turned them away. + </p> + <p> + “She had been coquettish and indifferent; she was now loving but virtuous. + </p> + <p> + “Spring came. One afternoon I went to call upon Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil, who had been ill for several days. I was received, however, + probably through some mistake of the servants. As I entered the room I saw + Madame de Bergenheim; she was alone at her embroidery, seated upon a + divan. There were several vases of flowers in the windows, whose curtains + only permitted a soft, mysterious light to penetrate the room. The perfume + from the flowers, the sort of obscurity, the solitude in which I found + her, overcame me for a moment; I was obliged to pause in order to quiet + the beating of my heart. + </p> + <p> + “She arose as she heard my name announced; without speaking or laying down + her work, she pointed to a chair and seated herself; but instead of + obeying her, I fell upon my knees before her and seized her hands, which + she did not withdraw. It had been impossible for me to say another word to + her before, save ‘I love you!’ I now told her of all my love. Oh! I am + sure of it, my words penetrated to the very depth of her heart, for I felt + her hands tremble as they left mine. She listened without interrupting me + or making any reply, with her face bent toward me as if she were breathing + the perfume of a flower. When I begged her to answer me, when I implored + her for one single word from her heart, she withdrew one of her hands, + imprisoned within mine, and placed it upon my forehead, pushing back my + head with a gesture familiar to women. She gazed at me thus for a long + time; her eyes were so languishing under their long lashes, and their + languor was so penetrating, that I closed mine, not being able to endure + the fascination of this glance any longer. + </p> + <p> + “A shiver which ran over her and which went through me also, like an + electric shock, aroused me. When I opened my eyes I saw her face bathed in + tears. She drew back and repelled me. I arose impetuously, seated myself + by her side and took her in my arms. + </p> + <p> + “‘Am I not a wretched, unhappy woman?’ said she, and fell upon my breast, + sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame la Comtesse de Pontiviers,’ announced the servant, whom I would + willingly have assassinated, as well as the visiting bore who followed in + his footsteps. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw Madame de Bergenheim in Paris again. I was obliged to go to + Bordeaux the next day, on account of a lawsuit which you know all about. + Upon my return, at the end of three weeks, I found she had left. I finally + learned that she had come to this place, and I followed her. That is the + extent of my drama. + </p> + <p> + “Now you know very well that I have not related this long story to you for + the sole pleasure of keeping you awake until one o’clock in the morning. I + wanted to explain to you that it was really a serious thing for me, so + that you might not refuse to do what I wish to ask of you.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I understand what you are aiming at,” said Marillac, rather + pensively. + </p> + <p> + “You know Bergenheim; you will go to see him to-morrow. He will invite you + to pass a few days with him; you will stay to dinner. You will see + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, in whose presence you will speak my name as + you refer to our journey; and before night, my venerable cousin of 1569 + shall send me an invitation to come to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather render you any other service than this,” replied the + artist, walking up and down the room in long strides. “I know very well + that in all circumstances bachelors should triumph over husbands, but that + does not prevent my conscience from smiting me. You know that I saved + Bergenheim’s life?” + </p> + <p> + “Rest assured that he runs no very great danger at present. Nothing will + result from this step save the little enjoyment I shall take in annoying + the cruel creature who defied me today. Is it agreed?” + </p> + <p> + “Since you insist upon it. But then, when our visit is ended, shall we go + to work at our drama or upon ‘The Chaste Suzannah’ opera in three acts? + For, really, you neglected art terribly for the sake of your love + affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “The Chaste Suzannah or the whole Sacred History we shall put into + vaudeville, if you exact it. Until to-morrow, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Until to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. A LOVER’S RUSE + </h2> + <p> + It was three o’clock in the afternoon; the drawing-room of the Chateau de + Bergenheim presented its usual aspect and occupants. The fire on the + hearth, lighted during the morning, was slowly dying, and a beautiful + autumn sun threw its rays upon the floor through the half-opened windows. + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, stretched on the couch before the fireplace + with Constance at her feet, was reading, according to her habit, the + newspapers which had just arrived. Madame de Bergenheim seemed very busily + occupied with a piece of tapestry in her lap; but the slow manner in which + her needle moved, and the singular mistakes she made, showed that her mind + was far away from the flowers she was working. She had just finished a + beautiful dark lily, which contrasted strangely with its neighbors, when a + servant entered. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said he, “there is a person here inquiring for Monsieur le Baron + de Bergenheim.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Monsieur de Bergenheim not at home?” asked Mademoiselle de Corandeuil. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur has gone to ride with Mademoiselle Aline.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is this person?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a gentleman; but I did not ask his name.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him enter.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence arose at the servant’s first words and threw her work upon a + chair, making a movement as if to leave the room; but after a moment’s + reflection, she resumed her seat and her work, apparently indifferent as + to who might enter. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Marillac,” announced the lackey, as he opened the door a + second time. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim darted a rapid glance at the individual who presented + himself, and then breathed freely again. + </p> + <p> + After setting to rights his coiffure ‘a la Perinet’, the artist entered + the room, throwing back his shoulders. Tightly buttoned up in his + travelling redingote, and balancing with ease a small gray hat, he bowed + respectfully to the two ladies and then assumed a pose a la Van Dyke. + </p> + <p> + Constance was so frightened at the sight of this imposing figure that, + instead of jumping at the newcomer’s legs, as was her custom, she + sheltered herself under her mistress’s chair, uttering low growls; at + first glance the latter shared, if not the terror, at least the aversion + of her dog. Among her numerous antipathies, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil + detested a beard. This was a common sentiment with all old ladies, who + barely tolerated moustaches: “Gentlemen did not wear them in 1780,” they + would say. + </p> + <p> + Marillac’s eyes turned involuntarily toward the portraits, and other + picturesque details of a room which was worthy the attention of a + connoisseur; but he felt that the moment was not opportune for indulging + in artistic contemplation, and that he must leave the dead for the living. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies,” said he, “I ought, first of all, to ask your pardon for thus + intruding without having had the honor of an introduction. I hoped to find + here Monsieur de Bergenheim, with whom I am on very intimate terms. I was + told that he was at the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “My husband’s friends do not need to be presented at his house,” said + Clemence; “Monsieur de Bergenheim probably will return soon.” And with a + gracious gesture she motioned the visitor to a seat. + </p> + <p> + “Your name is not unknown to me,” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil in her + turn, having succeeded in calming Constance’s agitation. “I remember + having heard Monsieur de Bergenheim mention you often.” + </p> + <p> + “We were at college together, although I am a few years younger than + Christian.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim, struck by some sudden thought, + “there is more than a college friendship between you. Are you not, + Monsieur, the person who saved my husband’s life in 1830?” + </p> + <p> + Marillac smiled, bowed his head, and seated himself. Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil herself could not but graciously greet her nephew’s preserver, + had he had a moustache as long as that of the Shah of Persia, who ties his + in a bow behind his neck. + </p> + <p> + After the exchange of a few compliments, Madame de Bergenheim, with the + amiability of a mistress of the house who seeks subjects of conversation + that may show off to best advantage the persons she receives, continued: + </p> + <p> + “My husband does not like to talk of himself, and never has told us the + details of this adventure, in which he ran such great danger. Will you be + kind enough to gratify our curiosity on this point?” + </p> + <p> + Marillac, among his other pretensions, had that of being able to relate a + story in an impressive manner. These words were as pleasing to his ears as + the request for a song is to a lady who requires urging, although she is + dying to sing. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies,” said he, crossing one leg over the other and leaning upon one + arm of his chair, “it was on the twenty-eighth of July, 1830; the + disastrous decrees had produced their effects; the volcano which—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Monsieur, if I interrupt you,” said Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil, quickly; “according to my opinion, and that of many others, + the royal decrees you speak of were good and necessary. The only mistake + of Charles Tenth was not to have fifty thousand men around Paris to force + their acceptance. I am only a woman, Monsieur, but if I had had under my + command twenty cannon upon the quays, and as many upon the boulevards, I + assure you that your tricolored flag never should have floated over the + Tuileries.” + </p> + <p> + “Pitt and Cobourg!” said the artist between his teeth, as, with an + astonished air, he gazed at the old lady; but his common-sense told him + that republicanism was not acceptable within this castle. Besides, + remembering the mission with which he was charged, he did not think his + conscience would feel much hurt if he made a little concession of + principles and manoeuvred diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” replied he, “I call the decrees disastrous when I think of their + result. You will certainly admit that our situation to-day ought to make + everybody regret the causes which brought it about.” + </p> + <p> + “We are exactly of the same opinion regarding that point, Monsieur,” said + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, resuming her serenity. + </p> + <p> + “The open volcano beneath our feet,” continued Marillac, who still stuck + to his point, “warned us by deep rumblings of the hot lava which was about + to gush forth. The excitement of the people was intense. Several + engagements with the soldiers had already taken place at different points. + I stood on the Boulevard Poissonniere, where I had just taken my luncheon, + and was gazing with an artist’s eye upon the dramatic scene spread out + before me. Men with bare arms and women panting with excitement were + tearing up the pavements or felling trees. An omnibus had just been upset; + the rioters added cabriolets, furniture, and casks to it; everything + became means of defence. The crashing of the trees as they fell, the blows + of crowbars on the stones, the confused roaring of thousands of voices, + the Marseillaise sung in chorus, and the irregular cannonading which + resounded from the direction of the Rue Saint-Denis, all composed a + strident, stupefying, tempestuous harmony, beside which Beethoven’s + Tempest would have seemed like the buzzing of a bee. + </p> + <p> + “I was listening to the roaring of the people, who were gnawing at their + chains before breaking them, when my eyes happened to fall upon a window + of a second-floor apartment opposite me. A man about sixty years of age, + with gray hair, a fresh, plump face, an honest, placid countenance, and + wearing a mouse-colored silk dressing-gown, was seated before a small, + round table. The window opened to the floor, and I could see him in this + frame like a full-length portrait. There was a bowl of coffee upon the + table, in which he dipped his roll as he read his journal. I beg your + pardon, ladies, for entering into these petty details, but the habit of + writing—” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, Monsieur, your story interests me very much,” said Madame + de Bergenheim, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “A King Charles spaniel, like yours, Mademoiselle, was standing near the + window with his paws resting upon it; he was gazing with curiosity at the + revolution of July, while his master was reading his paper and sipping his + coffee, as indifferent to all that passed as if he had been in Pekin or + New York. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, the calm of a pure, sincere soul!’ I exclaimed to myself, at the + sight of this little tableau worthy of Greuze; ‘oh, patriarchal + philosophy! in a few minutes perhaps blood will flow in the streets, and + here sits a handsome old man quietly sipping his coffee.’ He seemed like a + lamb browsing upon a volcano.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac loved volcanoes, and never lost an opportunity to bring one in at + every possible opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly a commotion ran through the crowd; the people rushed in every + direction, and in an instant the boulevard was empty. Plumes waving from + high caps, red-and-white flags floating from the ends of long lances, and + the cavalcade that I saw approaching through the trees told me the cause + of this panic. A squadron of lancers was charging. Have you ever seen a + charge of lancers?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said both of the ladies at once. + </p> + <p> + “It is a very grand sight, I assure you. Fancy, ladies, a legion of demons + galloping along upon their horses, thrusting to the right and left with + long pikes, whose steel points are eighteen inches long. That is a charge + of lancers. I beg you to believe that I had shown before this the mettle + there was in me, but I will not conceal from you that at this moment I + shared with the crowd the impression which the coming of these gentlemen + made. I had only time to jump over the sidewalk and to dart up a staircase + which ran on the outside of a house, every door being closed. I never + shall forget the face of one of those men who thrust the point of a lance + at me, long enough to pierce through six men at once. I admit that I felt + excited then! The jinn having passed—” + </p> + <p> + “The—what?” asked Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who was not familiar + with Eastern terms. + </p> + <p> + “I beg a thousand pardons, it was a poetical reminiscence. The lancers, + having rushed through the boulevard like an avalanche, a laggard rider, a + hundred steps behind the others, galloped proudly by, erect in his + stirrups and flourishing his sword. Suddenly the report of a gun + resounded, the lancer reeled backward, then forward, and finally fell upon + his horse’s neck; a moment later he turned in his saddle and lay stretched + upon the ground, his foot caught in the stirrup; the horse, still + galloping, dragged the man and the lance, which was fastened to his arm by + a leather band.” + </p> + <p> + “How horrible!” said Clemence, clasping her hands. + </p> + <p> + Marillac, much pleased with the effect of his narration, leaned back in + his chair and continued his tale with his usual assurance. + </p> + <p> + “I looked to the neighboring roofs to discover whence came this shot; as I + was glancing to the right and left I saw smoke issuing through the blinds + of the room on the second floor, which had been closed at the approach of + the lancers. + </p> + <p> + “‘Good God!’ I exclaimed; ‘it must be this handsome old man in the + mouse-colored silk dressing-gown who amuses himself by firing upon the + lancers, as if they were rabbits in a warren!’ + </p> + <p> + “Just then the blinds were opened, and the strange fellow with the + unruffled countenance leaned out and gazed with a smiling face in the + direction the horse was taking, dragging his master’s body after him. The + patriarch had killed his man between two sips of his coffee.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is the cowardly way in which members of the royal guard were + assassinated by the ‘heroes’ of your glorious insurrection!” exclaimed + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “When the troops had passed,” Marillac continued, “the crowd returned, + more excited and noisy than ever. Barricades were erected with wonderful + rapidity; two of those were on the boulevard close to the place where I + was. I saw a horseman suddenly bound over the first; he wore a tuft of + red-and-white feathers in his hat. I saw that it was a staff officer, + doubtless carrying some despatch to headquarters. He continued his way, + sabre in its sheath, head erect, proud and calm in the midst of insulting + shouts from the crowd; stones were thrown at him and sticks at his horse’s + legs; he looked as if he were parading upon the Place du Carrousel. + </p> + <p> + “When he reached the second barricade, he drew his horse up, as if it were + merely a question of jumping a hurdle in a steeplechase just then I saw + the window on the first floor open again. ‘Ah! you old rascal!’ I + exclaimed. The report of a gun drowned my voice; the horse which had just + made the leap, fell on his knees; the horseman tried to pull him up, but + after making one effort the animal fell over upon his side. The ball had + gone through the steed’s head.” + </p> + <p> + “It was that poor Fidele that I gave your husband,” said Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil, who was always very sentimental in the choice of names she + gave to animals. + </p> + <p> + “He merited his name, Mademoiselle, for the poor beast died for his + master, for whom the shot was in tended. Several of those horrible faces, + which upon riot days suddenly appear as if they came out of the ground, + darted toward the unhorsed officer. I, and several other young men who + were as little disposed as myself to allow a defenceless man to be + slaughtered, ran toward him. I recognized Christian as I approached; his + right leg was caught under the horse, and he was trying to unsheath his + sword with his left hand. Sticks and stones were showered at him. I drew + out the sword, which his position prevented him from doing, and exclaimed + as I waved it in the air: ‘The first rascal who advances, I will cut open + like a dog.’ + </p> + <p> + “I accompanied these words with a flourish which kept the cannibals at a + distance for the time being. + </p> + <p> + “The young fellows who were with me followed my example. One took a + pickaxe, another seized the branch of a tree, while others tried to + release Christian from his horse. During this time the crowd increased + around us; the shouts redoubled: ‘Down with the ordinances! These are + disguised gendarmes! Vive la liberte!—We must kill them! Let’s hang + the spies to the lamp-posts!’ + </p> + <p> + “Danger was imminent, and I realized that only a patriotic harangue would + get us out of the scrape. While they were releasing Christian, I jumped + upon Fidele so as to be seen by all and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “‘Vive la liberte!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Vive la liberte!’ replied the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “‘Down with Charles Tenth! Down with the ministers! Down with the + ordinances!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Down!’ shouted a thousand voices at once. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, ladies, this was a sort of bait, intended to close the + mouths of these brutes. + </p> + <p> + “‘We are all citizens, we are all Frenchmen,’ I continued; ‘we must not + soil our hands with the blood of one of our disarmed brothers. After a + victory there are no enemies. This officer was doing his duty in + fulfilling his chief’s commands; let us do ours by dying, if necessary, + for our country and the preservation of our rights.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Vive la liberte! vive la liberte!’ shouted the crowd. ‘He is right; the + officer was doing his duty. It would be assassination!’ exclaimed numerous + voices. + </p> + <p> + “‘Thanks, Marillac,’ said Bergenheim to me, as I took his hand to lead him + away, availing ourselves of the effect of my harangue; ‘but do not press + me so hard, for I really believe that my right arm is broken; only for + that, I should ask you to return me my sword that I might show this rabble + that they can not kill a Bergenheim as they would a chicken.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Let him cry: Vive la Charte!’ roared out a man, with a ferocious face. + </p> + <p> + “‘I receive orders from nobody,’ Christian replied, in a very loud voice, + as he glared at him with eyes which would have put a rhinoceros to + flight.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband is really a very brave man,” said Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil, addressing Clemence. + </p> + <p> + “Brave as an old warrior. This time he pushed his courage to the verge of + imprudence; I do not know what the result might have been if the crowd had + not been dispersed a second time by the approach of the lancers, who were + returning through the boulevard. I led Bergenheim into a cafe; + fortunately, his arm was only sprained.” Just at this moment Marillac’s + story was interrupted by a sound of voices and hurried steps. The door + opened suddenly, and Aline burst into the room with her usual impetuosity. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened to you, Aline?” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim, + hurrying to her sister’s side. The young girl’s riding-habit and hat were + covered with splashes of mud. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing,” replied the young girl, in a broken voice; “it was only + Titania, who wanted to throw me into the river. Do you know where + Rousselet is? They say it is necessary to bleed him; and he is the only + one who knows how to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom do you mean, child? Is my husband wounded?” asked Clemence, turning + pale. + </p> + <p> + “No, not Christian; it is a gentleman I do not know; only for him I should + have been drowned. Mon Dieu! can not Rousselet be found?” + </p> + <p> + Aline left the room in great agitation. They all went over to the windows + that opened out into the court, whence the sound of voices seemed to + arise, and where they could hear the master’s voice thundering out his + commands. Several servants had gone to his assistance: one of them held + Titania by the bridle; she was covered with foam and mud, and was + trembling, with distended nostrils, like a beast that knows it has just + committed a wicked action. A young man was seated upon a stone bench, + wiping away blood which streamed from his forehead. It was Monsieur de + Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + At this sight Clemence supported herself against the framework of the + window, and Marillac hurriedly left the room. + </p> + <p> + Pere Rousselet, who had at last been found in the kitchen, advanced + majestically, eating an enormous slice of bread and butter. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! have you arrived at last?” exclaimed Bergenheim. “Here is a + gentleman this crazy mare has thrown against a tree, and who has received + a violent blow on the head. Do you not think it would be the proper thing + to bleed him?” + </p> + <p> + “A slight phlebotomy might be very advantageous in stopping the + extravasation of blood in the frontal region,” replied the peasant, + calling to his aid all the technical terms he had learned when he was a + hospital nurse. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you can do this bleeding well?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll take the liberty of saying to Monsieur le Baron that I phlebotomized + Perdreau last week and Mascareau only a month ago, without any complaint + from them.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! I believe you,” sneered the groom, “both are on their last legs.” + </p> + <p> + “I am neither Perdreau nor Mascareau,” observed the wounded man with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + Rousselet drew himself up at full height, with the dignity of a man of + talent who scorns to reply to either criticism or mistrust. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Gerfaut, turning to the Baron, “I am really causing you + too much trouble. This trifle does not merit the attention you give it. I + do not suffer in the least. Some water and a napkin are all that I need. I + fancy that I resemble an Iroquois Indian who has just been scalped; my + pride is really what is most hurt,” he added, with a smile, “when I think + of the grotesque sight I must present to the ladies whom I notice at the + window.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is Monsieur de Gerfaut!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, + toward whom he raised his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Octave bowed to her with a gracious air. His glance wandered from the old + lady to Clemence, who did not seem to have the strength to leave the + window. M. de Bergenheim, after hurriedly greeting Marillac, finally + yielded to the assurance that a surgeon was unnecessary, and conducted the + two friends to his own room, where the wounded man could find everything + that he needed. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil was the use in sending me as ambassador, since you were to + make such a fine entrance upon the stage?” murmured Marillac in his + friend’s ear. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” replied the latter as he pressed his hand; “I am only behind + the scenes as yet.” + </p> + <p> + During this time Clemence and her aunt had led Aline to her room. + </p> + <p> + “Now, tell us what all this means?” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, while + the young girl was changing her dress. + </p> + <p> + “It was Christian’s fault,” replied Aline. “We were galloping along beside + the river when Titania became frightened by the branch of a tree. ‘Do not + be afraid!’ exclaimed my brother. I was not in the least frightened; but + when he saw that my horse was about to run away, he urged his on in order + to join me. When Titania heard the galloping behind her she did run away + in earnest; she left the road and started straight for the river. Then I + began to be a little frightened. Just fancy, Clemence, I bounded in the + saddle at each leap, sometimes upon the mare’s neck, sometimes upon the + crupper; it was terrible! I tried to withdraw my foot from the stirrup as + Christian had told me to do; but just then Titania ran against the trunk + of a tree, and I rolled over with her. A gentleman, whom I had not seen + before, and who, I believe, actually jumped out of the ground, raised me + from the saddle, where I was held by something, I do not know what; then + that naughty Titania threw him against the tree as he was helping me to my + feet, and when I was able to look at him his face was covered with blood. + Christian rushed on the scene, and, when he saw that I was not badly hurt, + he ran after Titania and beat her! Oh! how he beat her! Mon Dieu! how + cruel men are! It was in vain for me to cry for mercy; he would not listen + to me. Then we came home, and, since this gentleman is not badly wounded, + it seems that my poor dress has fared worst of all.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl took her riding-habit from the chair as she said these + words, and could not restrain a cry of horror when she saw an enormous + rent in it. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” she exclaimed, as she showed it to her sister-in-law. It was + all that she had strength to articulate. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil took the skirt in her turn, and looked at it + with the practised eye of a person who had made a special study of little + disasters of the toilet and the ways of remedying them. + </p> + <p> + “It is in the fullness,” said she, “and by putting in a new breadth it + will never be seen.” + </p> + <p> + Aline, once convinced that the evil could be repaired, soon recovered her + serenity. + </p> + <p> + When the three ladies entered the drawing-room they found the Baron and + his two guests chatting amicably. Gerfaut had his forehead tied up with a + black silk band which gave him a slight resemblance to Cupid with his + bandage just off his eyes. His sparkling glance showed that blindness was + not what there was in common between him and the charming little god. + After the first greetings, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who was always + strict as to etiquette, and who thought that Titania had been a rather + unceremonious master of ceremonies between her nephew and M. de Gerfaut, + advanced toward the latter in order to introduce them formally to each + other. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think,” said she, “that Monsieur de Bergenheim has had the honor + of meeting you before today; allow me then to present you to him. Baron, + this is Monsieur le Vicomte de Gerfaut, one of my relatives.” + </p> + <p> + When Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was in good humor, she treated Gerfaut as + a relative on account of their family alliance of 1569. At this moment the + poet felt profoundly grateful for this kindness. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur has presented himself so well,” said Christian frankly, “that + your recommendation, my dear aunt, in spite of the respect I have for it, + will not add to my gratitude. Only for Monsieur de Gerfaut, here is a + madcap little girl whom we should be obliged to look for now at the bottom + of the river.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, he passed his arm about his sister’s waist and + kissed her tenderly, while Aline was obliged to stand upon the tips of her + toes to reach her brother’s lips. + </p> + <p> + “These gentlemen,” he continued, “have agreed to sacrifice for us the + pleasure of the Femme-sans-Tete, as well as Mademoiselle Gobillot’s + civilities, and establish their headquarters in my house. They can pursue + their picturesque and romantic studies from here just as well; I suppose, + Marillac, that you are still a determined dauber of canvas?” + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth,” replied the poet, “art absorbs me a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “As to myself, I never succeeded in drawing a nose that did not resemble + an ear and vice versa. But for that worthy Baringnier, who was kind enough + to look over my plans, I ran a great risk of leaving Saint Cyr without a + graduating diploma. But seriously, gentlemen, when you are tired of + sketching trees and tumbledown houses, I can give you some good boar + hunting. Are you a hunter, Monsieur de Gerfaut?” + </p> + <p> + “I like hunting very much,” replied the lover, with rare effrontery. + </p> + <p> + The conversation continued thus upon the topics that occupy people who + meet for the first time. When the Baron spoke of the two friends + installing themselves at the chateau, Octave darted a glance at Madame de + Bergenheim, as if soliciting a tacit approbation of his conduct; but met + with no response. Clemence, with a gloomy, sombre air fulfilled the duties + that politeness imposed upon her as mistress of the house. Her conduct did + not change during the rest of the evening, and Gerfaut no longer tried by + a single glance to soften the severity she seemed determined to adopt + toward him. All his attentions were reserved for Mademoiselle de + Corandeuil and Aline, who listened with unconcealed pleasure to the man + whom she regarded as her saviour; for the young girl’s remembrance of the + danger which she had run excited her more and more. + </p> + <p> + After supper Mademoiselle de Corandeuil proposed a game of whist to M. de + Gerfaut, whose talent for the game had made a lasting impression upon her. + The poet accepted this diversion with an enthusiasm equal to that he had + shown for hunting, and quite as sincere too. Christian and his sister—a + little gamester in embryo, like all of her family—completed the + party, while Clemence took up her work and listened with an absentminded + air to Marillac’s conversation. It was in vain for the latter to call art + and the Middle Ages to his aid, using the very quintessence of his + brightest speeches—success did not attend his effort. After the end + of an hour, he had a firm conviction that Madame de Bergenheim was, + everything considered, only a woman of ordinary intelligence and entirely + unworthy of the passion she had inspired in his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my soul,” he thought, “I would a hundred times rather have Reine + Gobillot for a sweetheart. I must take a trip in that direction tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + When they separated for the night, Gerfaut, bored by his evening and + wounded by his reception from Clemence, which, he thought, surpassed + anything he could have expected of her capricious disposition, addressed + to the young woman a profound bow and a look which said: + </p> + <p> + “I am here in spite of you; I shall stay here in spite of you; you shall + love me in spite of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim replied by a glance none the less expressive, in + which a lover the most prone to conceit could read: + </p> + <p> + “Do as you like; I have as much indifference for your love as disdain for + your presumption.” + </p> + <p> + This was the last shot in this preliminary skirmish. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. GERFAUT, THE WIZARD + </h2> + <p> + There are some women who, like the heroic Cure Merino, need but one hour’s + sleep. A nervous, irritable, subtle organization gives them a power for + waking, without apparent fatigue, refused to most men. And yet, when a + strong emotion causes its corrosive waters to filtrate into the veins of + these impressionable beings, it trickles there drop by drop, until it has + hollowed out in the very depths of their hearts a lake full of trouble and + storms. Then, in the silence of night and the calm of solitude, insomnia + makes the rosy cheeks grow pale and dark rings encircle the most sparkling + eyes. It is in vain for the burning forehead to seek the cool pillow; the + pillow grows warm without the forehead cooling. In vain the mind hunts for + commonplace ideas, as a sort of intellectual poppy-leaves that may lead to + a quiet night’s rest; a persistent thought still returns, chasing away all + others, as an eagle disperses a flock of timid birds in order to remain + sole master of its prey. If one tries to repeat the accustomed prayer, and + invoke the aid of the Virgin, or the good angel who watches at the foot of + young girls’ beds, in order to keep away the charms of the tempter, the + prayer is only on the lips, the Virgin is deaf, the angel sleeps! The + breath of passion against which one struggles runs through every fibre of + the heart, like a storm over the chords of an Tolian harp, and extorts + from it those magic melodies to which a poor, troubled, and frightened + woman listens with remorse and despair; but to which she listens, and with + which at last she is intoxicated, for the allegory of Eve is an immortal + myth, that repeats itself, through every century and in every clime. + </p> + <p> + Since her entrance into society, Madame de Bergenheim had formed the habit + of keeping late hours. When the minute details of her toilette for the + night were over, and she had confided her beautiful body to the snowy + sheets of her couch, some new novel or fashionable magazine helped her + wile away the time until sleep came to her. Christian left his room, like + a good country gentleman, at sunrise; he left it either for the chase—or + to oversee workmen, who were continually being employed upon some part of + his domain. Ordinarily, he returned only in time for dinner, and rarely + saw Clemence except between that time and supper, at the conclusion of + which, fatigued by his day’s work, he hastened to seek the repose of the + just. Husband and wife, while living under the same roof, were thus almost + completely isolated from each other; night for one was day for the other. + </p> + <p> + By the haste with which Clemence shortened her preparations for the night, + one would have said that she must have been blessed with an unusually + sleepy sensation. But when she lay in bed, with her head under her arm, + like a swan with his neck under his wing, and almost in the attitude of + Correggio’s Magdalen, her eyes, which sparkled with a feverish light, + betrayed the fact that she had sought the solitude of her bed in order to + indulge more freely in deep meditation. + </p> + <p> + With marvelous fidelity she went over the slightest events of the day, to + which by a constant effort of willpower, she had seemed so indifferent. + First, she saw Gerfaut with his face covered with blood, and the thought + of the terrible sensation which this sight caused her made her heart throb + violently. She then recalled him as she next saw him, in the drawing-room + by her husband’s side, seated in the very chair that she had left but a + moment before. This trifling circumstance impressed her; she saw in this a + proof of sympathetic understanding, a sort of gift of second sight which + Octave possessed, and which in her eyes was so formidable a weapon. + According to her ideas, he must have suspected that this was her own + favorite chair and have seized it for that reason, just as he would have + loved to take her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + For the first time, Clemence had seen together the man to whom she + belonged and the man whom she regarded somewhat as her property. For, by + one of those arrangements with their consciences of which women alone + possess the secret, she had managed to reason like this: “Since I am + certain always to belong to Monsieur de Bergenheim only, Octave can + certainly belong to me.” An heterodoxical syllogism, whose two premises + she reconciled with an inconceivable subtlety. A feeling of shame had made + her dread this meeting, which the most hardened coquette could never + witness without embarrassment. A woman, between her husband and her lover, + is like a plant one sprinkles with ice-cold water while a ray of sunlight + is trying to comfort it. The sombre and jealous, or even tranquil and + unsuspecting, face of a husband has a wonderful power of repression. One + is embarrassed to love under the glance of an eye that darts flashes as + bright as steel; and a calm, kindly look is more terrible yet, for all + jealousy seems tyrannical, and tyranny leads to revolt; but a confiding + husband is like a victim strangled in his sleep, and inspires, by his very + calmness, the most poignant remorse. + </p> + <p> + The meeting of these two men naturally led Clemence to a comparison which + could but be to Christian’s advantage. Gerfaut had nothing remarkable + about him save an intelligent, intensely clever air; there was a + thoughtful look in his eyes and an archness in his smile, but his + irregular features showed no mark of beauty; his face wore an habitually + tired expression, peculiar to those people who have lived a great deal in + a short time, and it made him look older than Christian, although he was + really several years younger. The latter, on the contrary, owed to his + strong constitution, fortified by country life, an appearance of blooming + youth that enhanced his noble regularity of features. + </p> + <p> + In a word, Christian was handsomer than his rival, and Clemence + exaggerated her husband’s superiority over her lover. Not being able to + find the latter awkward or insignificant, she tried to persuade herself + that he was ugly. She then reviewed in her mind all M. de Bergenheim’s + good qualities, his attachment and kindness to her, his loyal, generous + ways; she recalled the striking instance that Marillac had related of his + bravery, a quality without which there is no hope of success for a man in + the eyes of any woman. She did all in her power to inflame her imagination + and to see in her husband a hero worthy of inspiring the most fervent + love. When she had exhausted her efforts toward such enthusiasm and + admiration, she turned round, in despair, and, burying her head in her + pillow, she sobbed: + </p> + <p> + “I cannot, I cannot love him!” + </p> + <p> + She wept bitterly for a long while. As she recalled her own severity in + the past regarding women whose conduct had caused scandal, she employed in + her turn the harshness of her judgment in examining her own actions. She + felt herself more guilty than all the others, for her weakness appeared + less excusable to her. She felt that she was unworthy and contemptible, + and wished to die that she might escape the shame that made her blush + scarlet, and the remorse that tortured her soul. + </p> + <p> + How many such unhappy tears bathe the eyes of those who should shed only + tears of joy! How many such sighs break the silence of the night! There + are noble, celestial beings among women whom remorse stretches out upon + its relentless brasier, but in the midst of the flames that torture them + the heart palpitates, imperishable as a salamander. Is it not human fate + to suffer? After Madame de Bergenheim had given vent, by convulsive sobs + and stifled sighs, to her grief for this love which she could not tear + from her breast, she formed a desperate resolution. From the manner in + which M. de Gerfaut had taken possession of the chateau the very first + day, she recognized that he was master of the situation. The sort of + infatuation which Mademoiselle de Corandeuil seemed to have for him, and + Christian’s courteous and hospitable habits, would give him an opportunity + to prolong his stay as long as he desired. She thus compared herself to a + besieged general, who sees the enemy within his ramparts. + </p> + <p> + “Very well! I will shut myself up in the fortress!” said she, smiling in + spite of herself in the midst of her tears. “Since this insupportable man + has taken possession of my drawing-room, I will remain in my own room; we + will see whether he dares to approach that!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her pretty head with a defiant air, but she could not help + glancing into the room which was barely lighted with a night lamp. She sat + up and listened for a moment rather anxiously, as if Octave’s dark eyes + might suddenly glisten in the obscurity. When she had assured herself that + all was tranquil, and that the throbbing of her heart was all that + disturbed the silence, she continued preparing her plan of defense. + </p> + <p> + She decided that she would be ill the next day and keep to her bed, if + necessary, until her persecutor should make up his mind to beat a retreat. + She solemnly pledged herself to be firm, courageous, and inflexible; then + she tried to pray. It was now two o’clock in the morning. For some time + Clemence remained motionless, and one might have thought that at least she + was asleep. Suddenly she arose. Without stopping to put on her + dressing-gown, she lighted a candle by the night-lamp, pushed the bolt of + her door and then went to the windows, the space between them forming a + rather deep projection on account of the thickness of the walls. A + portrait of the Duke of Bordeaux hung there; she raised it and pressed a + button concealed in the woodwork. A panel opened, showing a small empty + space. The shelf in this sort of closet contained only a rosewood casket. + She opened this mysterious box and took from it a package of letters, then + returned to her bed with the eagerness of a miser who is about to gaze + upon his treasures. + </p> + <p> + Had she not struggled and prayed? Had she not offered upon the tyrannical + altar of duty as an expiation, tears, pale cheeks and a tortured soul? Had + she not just taken a solemn vow, in the presence of God and herself, which + should protect her against her weakness? Was she not a virtuous wife, and + had she not paid dearly enough for a moment of sad happiness? Was it a + crime to breathe for an instant the balmy air of love through the gratings + of this prison-cell, the doors of which she had just locked with her own + hand? Admirable logic for loving hearts, which, not being able to control + their feelings, suffer in order to prove themselves less guilty, and + clothe themselves in haircloth so that each shudder may cause a pain that + condones the sin! + </p> + <p> + Being at peace with herself, she read as women read who are in love; + leaning her head upon her hand, she drew out the letters, one by one, from + her bosom where she had placed them. She drank with her heart and eyes the + poison these passionate words contained; she allowed herself to be swayed + at will by these melodies which lulled but did not benumb. When one of + those invincible appeals of imploring passion awoke all the echoes of her + love, and ran through her veins with a thrill, striking the innermost + depths of her heart, she threw herself back and imprinted her burning lips + upon the cold paper. With one letter pressed to her heart, and another + pressed to her lips, she gave herself up completely, exclaiming in an + inaudible voice: “I love thee! I am thine!” + </p> + <p> + The next morning, when Aline entered her sister-in law’s room, according + to her usual custom, the latter was not obliged to feign the indisposition + she had planned; the sensations of this sleepless night had paled her + cheeks and altered her features; it would have been difficult to imagine a + more complete contrast than that between these two young women at this + moment. Clemence, lying upon her bed motionless and white as the sheet + which covered her, resembled Juliet sleeping in her tomb; Aline, rosy, + vivacious, and more petulant than usual, looked very much the madcap + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil had reproached her with being. Her face was + full of that still childish grace, more lovely than calm, more pleasing + than impressive, which makes young girls so charming to the eye but less + eloquent to the heart; for are they not fresh flowers more rich in + coloring than in perfume? + </p> + <p> + Clemence could hardly stifle a sigh as she gazed at those rosy checks, + those sparkling eyes, that life so full of the rich future. She recalled a + time when she was thus, when grief glided over her cheeks without paling + them, when tears dried as they left her eyes; she also had had her happy, + careless days, her dreams of unalloyed bliss. + </p> + <p> + Aline, after presenting her face like a child who asks for a kiss, wished + to tease her as usual, but, with a tired gesture, her sister-in-law begged + for mercy. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill?” asked the young girl anxiously, as she seated herself upon + the edge of the bed. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim smiled, a forced smile. + </p> + <p> + “Thank me for my poor health,” said she, “for it obliges you to do the + honors; I shall doubtless not be able to go down to dinner, and you must + take my place. You know that it tires my aunt to have to trouble herself + about others.” + </p> + <p> + Aline made a little grimace as she replied: + </p> + <p> + “If I thought you were speaking seriously, I would go and get into my own + bed at once!” + </p> + <p> + “Child! will you not in your turn be mistress of a home? Is it not + necessary for you to become accustomed to it? It is an excellent + opportunity, and, with my aunt as a guide, you are sure to acquit yourself + well.” + </p> + <p> + These last words were spoken rather maliciously, for the young woman knew + that of all the possible mentors, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was the one + whom Aline dreaded most. + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, my kind sister,” replied the girl, clasping her hands, “do + not be ill to-day. Is it the neuralgia of the day before yesterday you are + suffering from? Do be a good sister, and get up and come and take a walk + in the park; the fresh air will cure you, I am sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And I shall not be obliged to preside at the dinner-table, you would add; + is it not so? You selfish girl!” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid of Monsieur de Gerfaut,” said the child, lowering her voice. + </p> + <p> + When she heard pronounced this name, so deeply agitating her, Madame de + Bergenheim was silent for a moment; at last she said: + </p> + <p> + “What has Monsieur de Gerfaut done to you? Is it not downright ungrateful + to be afraid of him so soon after the service he has rendered you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not ungrateful,” replied the young girl quickly. “I never shall + forget that I owe my life to him, for certainly, but for him, I should + have been dragged into the river. But he has such black, piercing eyes + that they seem to look into your very soul; and then, he is such a + brilliant man! I am all the time afraid of saying something that he may + laugh at. You know, some people think I talk too much; but I shall never + dare open my mouth in his presence. Why do some persons’ eyes make such an + impression upon one?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence lowered her own beautiful eyes and made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “His friend, Monsieur Marillac, does not frighten me one bit, in spite of + his big moustache. Tell me, does not this Monsieur de Gerfaut frighten you + a little too?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, I assure you,” replied Madame de Bergenheim, trying to smile. + “But,” she continued, in order to change the conversation, “how fine you + look! You have certainly some plan of conquest. What! a city gown at nine + o’clock in the morning, and hair dressed as if for a ball?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to know the compliment your aunt just paid me?” + </p> + <p> + “Some little jest of hers, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “You might say some spiteful remark, for she is the hatefulest thing! She + told me that blue ribbons suited red hair very badly and advised me to + change one or the other. Is it true that my hair is red?” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Bergenheim asked this question with so much anxiety that + her sister-in-law could not repress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “You know that my aunt delights in annoying you,” said she. “Your hair is + very pretty, a bright blond, very pleasant to the eye; only Justine waves + it a little too tight; it curls naturally. She dresses your hair too high; + it would be more becoming to you if she pushed it back from your temples a + little than to wave it as much as she does. Come a little nearer to me.” + </p> + <p> + Aline knelt before Madame de Bergenheim’s bed, and the latter, adding a + practical lesson to verbal advice, began to modify the maid’s work to suit + her own taste. + </p> + <p> + “It curls like a little mane,” said the young girl, as she saw the trouble + her sister-in-law had in succeeding; “it was my great trouble at the + Sacred Heart. The sisters wished us to wear our hair plain, and I always + had a terrible time to keep it in place. However, blond hair looks ugly + when too plainly dressed, and Monsieur de Gerfaut said yesterday that it + was the shade he liked best.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Gerfaut told you he liked blond hair best!” + </p> + <p> + “Take care; you are pulling my hair! Yes, blond hair and blue eyes. He + said that when speaking of Carlo Dolci’s Virgin, and he said she was of + the most beautiful Jewish type; if he intended it as a compliment to me, I + am very much obliged to him. Do you think that my eyes are as blue as that + of the painted Virgin’s. Monsieur de Gerfaut pretends that there is a + strong resemblance.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim withdrew her hand so quickly that she pulled out half + a dozen or more hairs from her sister-in-law’s head, and buried herself up + to the chin in the bedclothes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Monsieur de Gerfaut knows how to pay very pretty compliments!” she + said. “And you doubtless are very well pleased to resemble Carlo Dolci’s + Madonna?” + </p> + <p> + “She is very pretty!—and then it is the Holy Virgin, you know—Ah! + I hear Monsieur de Gerfaut’s voice in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl arose quickly and ran to the window, where, concealed + behind the curtains, she could see what was going on outside without being + seen herself. + </p> + <p> + “He is with Christian,” she continued. “There, they are going to the + library. They must have just taken a long walk, for they are bespattered + with mud. If you could only see what a pretty little cap Monsieur de + Gerfaut has on!” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, he will turn her head,” thought Madame de Bergenheim, with a + decided feeling of anger; then she closed her eyes as if she wished to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut had, in fact, just returned from paying his respects to the + estate. He had followed his host, who, under the pretext of showing him + several picturesque sights, promenaded him, in the morning dew, through + the lettuce in the kitchen garden and the underbrush in the park. But he + knew through experience that all was not roses in a lover’s path; watching + in the snow, climbing walls, hiding in obscure closets, imprisonment in + wardrobes, were more disagreeable incidents than a quiet tete-a-tete with + a husband. + </p> + <p> + He listened, therefore, complacently enough to Bergenheim’s prolix + explanations, interested himself in the planting of trees, thought the + fields very green, the forests admirable, the granite rocks more beautiful + than those of the Alps, went into ecstasies over the smallest vista, + advised the establishment of a new mill on the river, which, being + navigable for rafts, might convey lumber to all the cities on the Moselle, + and thus greatly increase the value of the owner’s woods. They fraternized + like Glaucus and Diomede; Gerfaut hoping, of course, to play the part of + the Greek, who, according to Homer, received in return for a common iron + armor a gold one of inestimable value. There is always such a secret + mental reservation in the lover’s mind when associating with the husband + of his inamorata. + </p> + <p> + When he entered the room of his wife, whose indisposition had been + reported to him, Christian’s first words were: + </p> + <p> + “This Monsieur de Gerfaut appears to be a very excellent fellow, and I + shall be delighted if he will stay with us a while. It is too bad that you + are ill. He is a good musician, as well as Marillac; you might have sung + together. Try to get better quickly and come down to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not really tell him that Monsieur de Gerfaut has loved me for more + than a year,” said Madame de Bergenheim to herself. + </p> + <p> + A moment later, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil appeared, and with a prim air + seated herself beside the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you think that I am fooled by this indisposition. I see plainly + that you wish to be impolite to Monsieur de Gerfaut, for you can not + endure him. It seems to me, however, that a relative of your family ought + to be treated with more respect by you, above all, when you know how much + I esteem him. This is unheard-of absurdity, and I shall end by speaking to + your husband about it; we shall see if his intervention will not have more + effect than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall not do that, aunt,” Clemence interrupted, sitting up in bed and + trying to take her aunt’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish that your discourteous conduct should rest a secret between + us, I advise you to get rid of your neuralgia this very day. Now, you had + better decide immediately—” + </p> + <p> + “This is genuine persecution,” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim, falling + back upon her bed when the old lady had departed. “He has bewitched + everybody! Aline, my aunt, and my husband; to say nothing of myself, for I + shall end by going mad. I must end this, at any price.” She rang the bell + violently. + </p> + <p> + “Justine,” said she to her maid, “do not let any one enter this room under + any pretext whatsoever, and do not come in yourself until I ring; I will + try to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Justine obeyed, after closing the blinds. She had hardly gone out when her + mistress arose, put on her dressing-gown and slippers with a vivacity + which betokened anger; she then seated herself at her desk and began to + write rapidly, dashing her pen over the satiny paper without troubling + herself as to blots. The last word was ended with a dash as energetically + drawn as the Napoleonic flourish. + </p> + <p> + When a young man who, according to custom, begins to read the end of his + letters first finds an arabesque of this style at the bottom of a lady’s + letter, he ought to arm himself with patience and resignation before he + reads its contents. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. PLOTS + </h2> + <p> + That evening, when Gerfaut entered his room he hardly took time to place + the candlestick which he held in his hand upon the mantel before he took + from his waistcoat pocket a paper reduced to microscopic dimensions, which + he carried to his lips and kissed passionately before opening. His eyes + fell first upon the threatening flourish of the final word; this word was: + Adieu! + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” said the lover, whose exaltation was sensibly cooled at this sight. + </p> + <p> + He read the whole letter with one glance of the eye, darting to the + culminating point of each phrase as a deer bounds over ledges of rocks; he + weighed the plain meaning as well as the innuendoes of the slightest + expression, like a rabbi who comments upon the Bible, and deciphered the + erasures with the patience of a seeker after hieroglyphics, so as to + detach from them some particle of the idea they had contained. After + analyzing and criticising this note in all its most imperceptible shades, + he crushed it within his hand and began to pace the floor, uttering from + time to time some of those exclamations which the Dictionnaire de + l’Academie has not yet decided to sanction; for all lovers resemble the + lazzaroni who kiss San-Gennaro’s feet when he acts well, but who call him + briconne as soon as they have reason to complain of him. However, women + are very kind, and almost invariably excuse the stones that an angry lover + throws at them in such moments of acute disappointment, and willingly say + with the indulgent smile of the Roman emperor: “I feel no wound!” + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this paroxysm of furious anger, two or three knocks + resounded behind the woodwork. + </p> + <p> + “Are you composing?” asked a voice like that of a ventriloquist; “I am + with you.” + </p> + <p> + A minute later, Marillac appeared upon the threshold, in his slippers and + with a silk handkerchief tied about his head, holding his candlestick in + one hand and a pipe in the other; he stood there motionless. + </p> + <p> + “You are fine,” said he, “you are magnificent, fatal and accursed—You + remind me of Kean in Othello— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have you pray’d to-night, Desdemona?” + </pre> + <p> + Gerfaut gazed at him with frowning brows, but made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I will wager that it is the last scene in our third act,” replied the + artist, placing his candlestick upon the mantel; “it seems that it is to + be very tragic. Now listen! I also feel the poetical afflatus coming over + me, and, if you like, we will set about devouring paper like two + boa-constrictors. Speaking of serpents, have you a rattle? Ah, yes! Here + is the bell-rope. I was about to say that we would have a bowl of coffee. + Or rather, I will go into the kitchen myself; I am very good friends with + Marianne, the cook; besides, the motto of the house of Bergenheim is + liberte, libertas. Coffee is my muse; in this respect, I resemble Voltaire—” + </p> + <p> + “Marillac!” exclaimed Gerfaut, as the artist was about to leave the room. + The artist turned, and meekly retraced his steps. + </p> + <p> + “You will be so good as to do me the favor of returning to your room,” + said Gerfaut. “You may work or you may sleep, just as you like; between + us, you would do well to sleep. I wish to be alone.” + </p> + <p> + “You say that as if you meditated an attempt upon your illustrious person. + Are you thinking of suicide? Let us see whether you have some concealed + weapon, some poisoned ring. Curse upon it! the poison of the Borgias! Is + the white substance in this china bowl, vulgarly called sugar, by some + terrible chance infamous arsenic disguised under the appearance of an + honest colonial commodity?” + </p> + <p> + “Be kind enough to spare your jokes,” said Octave, as his friend poked + about in all the corners of the room with an affectation of anxiety, “and, + as I can not get rid of you, listen to my opinion: if you think that I + brought you here for you to conduct yourself as you have for the last two + days, you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “What have I done?” + </p> + <p> + “You left me the whole morning with that tiresome Bergenheim on my hands, + and I verily believe he made me count every stick in his park and every + frog in his pond. Tonight, when that old witch of Endor proposed her + infernal game of whist, to which it seems I am to be condemned daily, + you-excused yourself upon the pretext of ignorance, and yet you play as + good a game as I.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not endure whist at twenty sous a point.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I like it any better?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are a nice fellow! You have an object in view which should make + you swallow all these disagreeable trifles as if they were as sweet as + honey. Is it possible you would like me to play Bertrand and Raton? I + should be Raton the oftener of the two!” + </p> + <p> + “But, really, what did you do all day?” + </p> + <p> + Marillac posed before the mirror, arranged his kerchief about his head in + a more picturesque fashion, twisted his moustache, puffed out, through the + corner of his mouth, a cloud of smoke, which surrounded his face like a + London fog, then turned to his friend and said, with the air of a person + perfectly satisfied with himself: + </p> + <p> + “Upon my faith, my dear friend, each one for himself and God for us all! + You, for example, indulge in romantic love-affairs; you must have titled + ladies. Titles turn your head and make you exclusive. You make love to the + aristocracy; so be it, that is your own concern. As for me, I have another + system; I am, in all matters of sentiment, what I am in politics: I want + republican institutions.” + </p> + <p> + “What is all that nonsense about?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you. I want universal suffrage, the cooperation of all + citizens, admission to all offices, general elections, a popular + government, in a word, a sound, patriotic hash. Which means regarding + women that I carry them all in my heart, that I recognize between them no + distinction of caste or rank. Article First of my set of laws: all women + are equal in love, provided they are young, pretty, admirably attractive + in shape and carriage, above all, not too thin.” + </p> + <p> + “And what of equality?” + </p> + <p> + “So much the worse. With this eminently liberal and constitutional policy, + I intend to gather all the flowers that will allow themselves to be + gathered by me, without one being esteemed more fresh than another, + because it belongs to the nobility, or another less sweet, because + plebeian. And as field daisies are a little more numerous than imperial + roses, it follows that I very often stoop. That is the reason why, at this + very moment, I am up to my ears in a little rustic love affair: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Simple et naive bergerette, elle regne—” + </pre> + <p> + “Stop that noise; Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s room is just underneath.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you then, since I must give an account of myself, that I went + into the park to sketch a few fir-trees before dinner; they are more + beautiful of their kind than the ancient Fontainebleau oaks. That is for + art. At dinner, I dined nobly and well. To do the Bergenheims justice, + they live in a royal manner. That is for the stomach. Afterward I + stealthily ordered a horse to be saddled and rode to La Fauconnerie in a + trice, where I presented the expression of my adoration to Mademoiselle + Reine Gobillot, a minor yet, but enjoying her full rights already. That is + for the heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “No sarcasm, if you please; not everybody can share your taste for + princesses, who make you go a hundred leagues to follow them and then upon + your arrival, only give you the tip of a glove to kiss. Such intrigues are + not to my fancy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Je suis sergent, + Brave—” + </pre> + <p> + “Again, I say, will you stop that noise? Don’t you know that I have nobody + on my side at present but this respectable dowager on the first floor + below? If she supposes that I am making all this racket over her head we + shall be deadly enemies by to-morrow.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Zitto, zitto, piano, piano, + Senza strepito e rumore,” + </pre> + <p> + replied Marillac, putting his finger to his lips and lowering his voice. + “What you say is a surprise to me. From the way in which you offered your + arm to Madame de Bergenheim to lead her into the drawing-room after + supper, I thought you understood each other perfectly. As I was returning, + for I made it my duty to offer my arm to the old lady—and you say + that I do nothing for you—it seemed to me that I noticed a meeting + of hands—You know that I have an eagle eye. She slipped a note into + your hand as sure as my name is Marillac.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut took the note which he held crumpled up in his hand, and held it + in the flame of one of the candles. The paper ignited, and in less than a + second nothing of it remained but a few dark pieces which fell into ashes + upon the marble mantel. + </p> + <p> + “You burn it! You are wrong,” said the artist; “as for me, I keep + everything, letters and hair. When I am old, I shall have the letters to + read evenings, and shall weave an allegorical picture with the hair. I + shall hang it before my desk, so as to have before me a souvenir of the + adorable creatures who furnished the threads. I will answer for it that + there will be every shade in it from that of Camille Hautier, my first + love, who was an albino, to this that I have here.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, he took out of his pocket a small parcel from which he drew a + lock of coal-black hair, which he spread out upon his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Did you pull this hair from Titania’s mane?” asked Gerfaut, as he drew + through his fingers the more glossy than silky lock, which he ridiculed by + this ironical supposition. + </p> + <p> + “They might be softer, I admit,” replied Marillac negligently; and he + examined the lock submitted to this merciless criticism as if it were + simply a piece of goods, of the fineness of whose texture he wished to + assure himself. + </p> + <p> + “You will admit at least that the color is beautiful, and the quantity + makes up for the quality. Upon my word, this poor Reine has given me + enough to make a pacha’s banner. Provincial and primitive simplicity! I + know of one woman in particular who never gave an adorer more than seven + of her hairs; and yet, at the end of three years, this cautious beauty was + obliged to wear a false front. All her hair had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Are you like me, Octave? The first thing I ask for is one of these locks. + Women rather like this sort of childishness, and when they have granted + you that, it is a snare spread for them which catches them.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac took the long, dark tress and held it near the candle; but his + movement was so poorly calculated that the hair caught fire and was + instantly destroyed. + </p> + <p> + “A bad sign,” exclaimed Gerfaut, who could not help laughing at his + friend’s dismayed look. + </p> + <p> + “This is a day of autos-de-fe,” said the artist, dropping into a chair; + “but bah! small loss; if Reine asks to see this lock, I will tell her that + I destroyed it with kisses. That always flatters them, and I am sure it + will please this little field-flower. It is a fact that she has cheeks + like rosy apples! On my way back I thought of a vaudeville that I should + like to write about this. Only I should lay the scene in Switzerland and I + should call the young woman Betty or Kettly instead of Reine, a name + ending in ‘Y’ which would rhyme with Rutly, on account of local + peculiarities. Will you join in it? I have almost finished the scenario. + First scene—Upon the rising of the curtain, harvesters are + discovered—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the favor of going to bed?” interrupted Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + “Chorus of harvesters: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Deja l’aurore + Qui se colore—” + </pre> + <p> + “If you do not leave me alone, I will throw the contents of this + water-pitcher at your head.” + </p> + <p> + “I never have seen you in such a surly temper. It looks indeed as if your + divinity had treated you cruelly.” + </p> + <p> + “She has treated me shamefully!” exclaimed the lover, whose anger was + freshly kindled at this question; “she has treated me as one would treat a + barber’s boy. This note, which I just burned, was a most formal, + unpleasant, insolent dismissal. This woman is a monster, do you understand + me?” + </p> + <p> + “A monster! your angel, a monster!” said Marillac, suppressing with + difficulty a violent outburst of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “She, an angel? I must say that she is a demon—This woman—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not adore her?” + </p> + <p> + “I hate her, I abhor her, she makes me shudder. You may laugh, if you + like!” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, Gerfaut struck a violent blow upon the table with + his fist. + </p> + <p> + “You forget that Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s room is just beneath us,” + said the artist, in a teasing way. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, Marillac! Your system with women is vulgar, gross, and + trivial. The daisies which you gather, the maidens from whom you cut + handfuls of hair excellent for stuffing mattresses, your rustic beauties + with cheeks like rosy apples are conquests worthy of counter-jumpers in + their Sunday clothes. That is nothing but the very lowest grade of + love-making, and yet you are right, a thousand times right, and + wonderfully wise compared with me.” + </p> + <p> + “You do me too much honor! So, then, you are not loved?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, I had an idea I was, or, if I was not loved to-day, I hoped to be + to-morrow. But you are mistaken as to what discourages me. I simply fear + that her heart is narrow. I believe that she loves me as much as she is + able to love; unfortunately, that is not enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly seems to me that, so far, she has not shown herself madly in + love with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, madly! Do you know many women who love madly with their hearts and + souls? You talk like a college braggart. There are conquerors like + yourself who, if we are to believe them, would devour a whole convent at + their breakfast. These men excite my pity. As for me, really, I have + always felt that it was most difficult to make one’s self really loved. In + these days of prudery, almost all women of rank appear ‘frappe a la + glace’, like a bottle of champagne. It is necessary to thaw them first, + and there are some of them whose shells are so frigid that they would put + out the devil’s furnace. They call this virtue; I call it social + servitude. But what matters the name? the result is the same.” + </p> + <p> + “But, really, are you sure that Madame de Bergenheim loves you?” asked + Marillac, emphasizing the word “love” so strongly as to attract his + friend’s attention. + </p> + <p> + “Sure? of course I am!” replied the latter. “Why do you ask me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, when you are not quite so angry, I want to ask you something.” + He hesitated a moment. “If you learned that she cares more for another + than for you, what would you do?” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut looked at him and smiled disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” said he, “you have heard me storm and curse, and you took this + nonsense for genuine hatred. My good fellow! do you know why I raved in + such a manner? It was because, knowing my temperament, I felt the + necessity of getting angry and giving vent to what was in my heart. If I + had not employed this infallible remedy, the annoyance which this note + caused me would have disturbed my nerves all night, and when I do not + sleep my complexion is more leaden than usual and I have dark rings under + my eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Fop!” + </p> + <p> + “Simpleton!” + </p> + <p> + “Why simpleton?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you take me for a dandy? Do you not understand why I wish to sleep + soundly? It is simply because I do not wish to appear before her with a + face like a ghost. That would be all that was needed to encourage her in + her severity. I shall take good care that she does not discover how hard + her last thrust has hit me. I would give you a one-hundred-franc note if I + could secure for to-morrow morning your alderman’s face and your + complexion a la Teniers.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, we are not masquerading just at present.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, all that you have said does not prove in the slightest that + she loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Marillac, words may have escaped me in my anger which have caused + you to judge hastily. Now that I am calm and that my remedy has brought + back my nervous system to its normal state, I will explain to you my real + position. She is my Galatea, I her Pygmalion. ‘An allegory as old as the + world,’ you are about to say; old or not, it is my true story. I have not + yet broken the marble-virtue, education, propriety, duty, prejudices—which + covers the flesh of my statue; but I am nearing my goal and I shall reach + it. Her desperate resistance is the very proof of my progress. It is a + terrible step for a woman to take, from No to Yes. My Galatea begins to + feel the blows from my heart over her heart and she is afraid—afraid + of the world, of me, of her husband, of herself, of heaven and hell. Do + you not adore women who are afraid of everything? She, love another! + never! It is written in all eternity that she shall be mine. What did you + wish to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, since you are so sure of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure—more than of my eternal life! But I wish to know what you + mean.” + </p> + <p> + “But you won’t be told just a suspicion that came to me; something that + was told to me the other day; a conjecture so vague that it would be + useless to dwell upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not good at guessing enigmas,” said Octave, in a dry tone. + </p> + <p> + “We will speak of this again to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “As you like,” replied the lover, with somewhat affected indifference. “If + you wish to play the part of Iago with me, I warn you I am not disposed to + jealousy.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, I tell you, I shall enlighten myself as to this affair; + whatever the result of my inquiries may be, I will tell you the truth. + After all, it was nothing but woman’s gossip.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, take your time. But I have another favor to ask of you. + Tomorrow I shall try to persuade the ladies to take a walk in the park. + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil will probably not go; you must do me the favor + of sticking to Bergenheim and the little sister, and gradually to walk on + ahead of us, in such a way as to give me an opportunity of speaking with + this cruel creature alone for a few moments; for she has given me to + understand that I shall not succeed in speaking with her alone under any + circumstances, and it is absolutely necessary that I should do so.” + </p> + <p> + “There will be one difficulty in the way, though—they expect about + twenty persons at dinner, and all her time will probably be taken up with + her duties as hostess.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” exclaimed Gerfaut, jumping up so suddenly that he upset + his chair. + </p> + <p> + “You still forget that Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s room is beneath us.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil is playing her hand!” exclaimed the lover, as he paced the room + in long strides. “I wish that during the night he would wring the neck of + all these visitors. Now; then, she has her innings. Today and tomorrow + this little despot’s battle of Ligny will be fought and won; but the day + after to-morrow, look out for her Waterloo!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, my Lord Wellington,” said Marillac, as he arose and took up + his candlestick. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Iago! Ah! you think you have annoyed me with your mysterious + words and melodramatic reticence?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow! to-morrow!” replied the artist as he left the room. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ce secret-la + Se trahira.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. A QUARREL + </h2> + <p> + The next morning, before most of the inhabitants of the chateau had + thought of leaving their beds, or at least their rooms, a man, on + horseback, and alone, took his departure through a door opening from the + stable-yard into the park. He wore a long travelling redingote trimmed + with braid and fur, rather premature clothing for the season, but which + the sharp cold air that was blowing at this moment made appear very + comfortable. He galloped away, and continued this pace for about + three-quarters of a mile, in spite of the unevenness of the road, which + followed a nearly straight line over hilly ground. It would have been + difficult to decide which to admire more, the horse’s limbs or the rider’s + lungs; for the latter, during this rapid ride, had sung without taking + breath, so to speak, the whole overture to Wilhelm Tell. We must admit + that the voice in which he sang the andante of the Swiss mountaineer’s + chorus resembled a reed pipe more than a hautboy; but, to make amends when + he reached the presto, his voice, a rather good bass, struck the horse’s + ears with such force that the latter redoubled his vigor as if this melody + had produced upon him the effect of a trumpet sounding the charge on the + day of battle. + </p> + <p> + The traveller, whom we have probably recognized by his musical feat, + concluded his concert by stopping at the entrance to some woods which + extended from the top of the rocks to the river, breaking, here and there, + the uniformity of the fields. After gazing about him for some time, he + left the road and, entering the woods on the right, stopped at the foot of + a large tree. Near this tree was a very small brook, which took its source + not far away and descended with a sweet murmur to the river, making a + narrow bed in the clayey ground which it watered. Such was the modesty of + its course that a little brighter green and fresher grass a few feet away + from it were the only indications of its presence. Nothing was wanting to + make this an idyllic place for a rendezvous, neither the protecting shade, + the warbling of birds in the trees, the picturesque landscape surrounding + it, nor the soft grass. + </p> + <p> + After dismounting from his steed and tying him to the branches of an oak, + thus conforming to the time-honored custom of lovers, the cavalier struck + his foot upon the ground three or four times to start the circulation in + his legs, and then drew from his pocket a very pretty Breguet watch. + </p> + <p> + “Ten minutes past eight,” said he; “I am late and yet I am early. It looks + as if the clocks at La Fauconnerie were not very well regulated.” He + walked up and down with a quick step whistling with a vengeance: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Quand je quittai la Normandie + J’attends—j’attends—” + </pre> + <p> + a refrain which the occasion brought to his mind. When this pastime was + exhausted he had recourse to another, the nature of which proved that if + the expected beauty had not punctuality for a virtue, she was not one of + those little exacting creatures always ready to faint or whose delicate + nerves make them intolerant of their lovers’ imperfections. Plunging his + hand into one of the pockets in his redingote, the waiting cavalier drew + out a sealskin case filled with Havana cigars, and, lighting one, began to + smoke, while continuing his promenade. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of a few moments this palliative, like the first, had + exhausted its effect. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-five minutes past eight!” exclaimed Marillac, as he looked at his + watch a second time; “I should like to know what this little miniature + rose takes me for? It was hardly worth the trouble of over-straining this + poor horse, who looks as wet as if he had come out of the river. It is + enough to give him inflammation of the lungs. If Bergenheim were to see + him sweating and panting like this in this bleak wind, he would give me a + sound blowing-up. Upon my word, it is becoming comical! There are no more + young girls! I shall see her appear presently as spruce and conceited as + if she had been playing the finest trick in the world. It will do for + once; but if we sojourn in these quarters some time yet, she must be + educated and taught to say, ‘If you please’ and ‘Thanks.’ Ah! ha! she has + no idea what sort of man she is dealing with! Half past eight! If she is + not here in five minutes I shall go to La Fauconnerie and raise a terrible + uproar. I will break every bit of crockery there is in the + ‘Femme-sans-Tete’ with blows from my whip. What can I do to kill time?” He + raised his head quickly, as he felt himself suddenly almost smothered + under a shower of dust. This was a fatal movement for him, for his eyes + received part of the libation destined for his hair. He closed them with a + disagreeable sensation, after seeing Mademoiselle Reine Gobillot’s fresh, + chubby face, her figure prim beyond measure in a lilac-and-green plaid + gingham dress, and carrying a basket on her arm, a necessary burden to + maidens of a certain class who play truant. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of breeding is this?” exclaimed Marillac, rubbing his eyes; + “you have made me dance attendance for an hour and now you have blinded + me. I do not like this at all, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “How you scold me, just for a little pinch of dust!” replied Reine, + turning as red as a cherry as she threw the remainder of the handful which + she had taken from a mole-heap close by them. + </p> + <p> + “It is because it smarts like the devil,” replied the artist, in a milder + tone, for he realized the ridiculousness of his anger; “since you have + hurt me, try at least to ease the pain; they say that to blow in the eye + will cure it.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I’ll do nothing of the kind—I don’t like to be spoken to + harshly.” + </p> + <p> + The artist arose at once as he saw the young girl make a movement as if to + go; he put his arm about her waist and half forced her to sit beside him. + </p> + <p> + “The grass is damp and I shall stain my dress,” said she, as a last + resistance. + </p> + <p> + A handkerchief was at once spread upon the ground, in lieu of a carpet, by + the lover, who had suddenly become very polite again. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my dear Reine,” continued he, “will you tell me why you come so + late? Do you know that for an hour I have been tearing my hair in + despair?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps the dust will make it grow again,” she replied, with a malicious + glance at Marillac, whose head was powdered with brown dust as if a + tobacco-box had been emptied upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Naughty girl!” he exclaimed, laughing, although his eyes looked as if he + were crying; and, acting upon the principle of retaliation less odious in + love than in war, he tried to snatch a kiss to punish her. + </p> + <p> + “Stop that, Monsieur Marillac! you know very well what you promised me.” + </p> + <p> + “To love you forever, you entrancing creature,” said he, in the voice of a + crocodile that sighs to attract his prey. + </p> + <p> + Reine pursed up her lips and assumed important airs, but, in order to obey + the feminine instinct which prescribes changing the subject of + conversation after too direct an avowal, with the firm intention of + returning to it later through another channel, she said: + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing just as I arrived? You were so busy you did not hear + me coming. You were so droll; you waved your arms in the air and struck + your forehead as you talked.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was not necessary, in order to do that, to strike your head with + your fist. It must have hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Adorable woman!” exclaimed the artist, in a passionate tone. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! how you frighten me. If I had known I would not have come here + at all. I must go away directly.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me already, queen of my heart! No! do not expect to do that; I + would sooner lose my life—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you stop! what if some one should hear you? they might be passing,” + said Reine, gazing anxiously about her. “If you knew how frightened I was + in coming! I told mamma that I was going to the mill to see my uncle; but + that horrid old Lambernier met me just as I entered the woods. What shall + I do if he tells that he saw me? This is not the road to the mill. It is + to be hoped that he has not followed me! I should be in a pretty plight!” + </p> + <p> + “You can say that you came to gather berries or nuts, or to hear the + nightingale sing; Mother Gobillot will not think anything of it. Who is + this Lambernier?” + </p> + <p> + “You know—the carpenter. You saw him at our house the other day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah!” said Marillac, with interest, “the one who was turned away from + the chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and they did well to do it, too; he is a downright bad man.” + </p> + <p> + “He is the one who told you something about Madame de Bergenheim. Tell me + the story. Your mother interrupted us yesterday just as you began telling + it to me.—What was it that he said?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! falsehoods probably. One can not believe anything that he says.” + </p> + <p> + “But what did he tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “What difference does it make to you what is said about the Baroness?” + replied the young girl, rather spitefully, as she saw that Marillac was + not occupied in thinking of her exclusively. + </p> + <p> + “Pure curiosity. He told you then that he would tell the Baron what he + knew, and that the latter would give him plenty of money to make him keep + silent?” + </p> + <p> + “It makes no difference what he told me. Ask him if you wish to know. Why + did you not stay at the chateau if you can think only of the Baroness? Are + you in love with her?” + </p> + <p> + “I am in love with you, my dear. [The devil take me if she is not jealous + now! How shall I make her talk?] I am of the same opinion as you,” he + replied, in a loud voice, “that all this talk of Lambernier’s is pure + calumny.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no doubt about it. He is well known about the place; he has a + wicked tongue and watches everything that one does or says in order to + report it at cross-purposes. Mon Dieu! suppose he should make some story + out of his seeing me enter these woods!” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Bergenheim,” continued the artist, with affectation, “is + certainly far above the gossip of a scoundrel of this kind.” + </p> + <p> + Reine pursed up her lips, but made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “She has too many good qualities and virtues for people to believe + anything he says.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to that, there are hypocrites among the Parisian ladies as well as + elsewhere,” said the young girl, with a sour look. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” thought Marillac, “we have it now. I’d wager my last franc + that I’ll loosen her tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Bergenheim,” he replied, emphasizing each word, “is such a good + woman, so sensible and so pretty!” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! say that you love her at once, then—that’ll be plain + talk,” exclaimed Reine, suddenly disengaging herself from the arm which + was still about her waist. “A great lady who has her carriages and footmen + in livery is a conquest to boast of! While a country girl, who has only + her virtue—” + </p> + <p> + She lowered her eyes with an air of affected modesty, and did not finish + her sentence. + </p> + <p> + “A virtue which grants a rendezvous at the end of three days’ + acquaintance, and in the depths of the woods! That is amusing!” thought + the artist. + </p> + <p> + “Still, you will not be the first of the fine lady’s lovers,” she + continued, raising her head and trying to conceal her vexation under an + ironical air. + </p> + <p> + “These are falsehoods.” + </p> + <p> + “Falsehoods, when I tell you that I know what I am speaking about! + Lambernier is not a liar.” + </p> + <p> + “Lambernier is not a liar?” repeated a harsh, hoarse voice, which seemed + to come from the cavity of the tree under which they were seated. “Who has + said that Lambernier was a liar?” + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, the carpenter in person suddenly appeared upon the + scene. He stood before the amazed pair with his brown coat thrown over his + shoulders, as usual, and his broad-brimmed gray hat pulled down over his + ears, gazing at them with his deep, ugly eyes and a sardonic laugh + escaping from his lips. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Reine uttered a shriek as if she had seen Satan rise up from + the ground at her feet; Marillac rose with a bound and seized his whip. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very insolent fellow,” said he, in his ringing bass voice. “Go + your way!” + </p> + <p> + “I receive no such orders,” replied the workman, in a tone which justified + the epithet which had just been bestowed upon him; “we are upon public + ground, and I have a right to be here as well as you.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do not take to your heels at once,” said the artist, becoming + purple with rage, “I will cut your face in two.” + </p> + <p> + “Apples are sometimes cut in two,” said Lambernier, sneeringly advancing + his face with an air of bravado. “My face is not afraid of your whip; you + can not frighten me because you are a gentleman and I am a workman! I snap + my fingers at bourgeois like—” + </p> + <p> + This time he did not have time to finish his comparison; a blow from the + whip cut him in the face and made him reel in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + “By heaven!” he exclaimed, in a voice like thunder, “may I lose my name if + I do not polish you off well!” + </p> + <p> + He threw his coat on the grass, spat, in his hands and rubbed them + together, assuming the position of an athlete ready for a boxing-bout. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Gobillot, arose, trembling with fright at this demonstration, + and uttered two or three inarticulate cries; but, instead of throwing + herself between the combatants in the approved style, she ran away as fast + as she could. + </p> + <p> + Although the weapons of the adversaries were not of a nature to spill + blood upon the turf, there was something warlike about their countenances + which would have done honor to ancient paladins. Lambernier squatting upon + his legs, according to the rules of pugilism, and with his fists on a + level with his shoulders, resembled, somewhat, a cat ready to bound upon + its prey. The artist stood with his body thrown backward, his legs on a + tension, his chin buried up to his moustache in the fur collar of his + coat, with whip lowered, watching all his adversary’s movements with a + steady eye. When he saw the carpenter advancing toward him, he raised his + arm and gave him on the left side a second lash from his whip, so + vigorously applied that the workman beat a retreat once more, rubbing his + hands and roaring: + </p> + <p> + “Thunder! I’ll finish you—” + </p> + <p> + He put his hands in his trousers’ pockets and drew out one of those large + iron compasses such as carpenters use, and opened it with a rapid + movement. He then seized it in the centre and was thus armed with a sort + of double-pointed stiletto, which he brandished with a threatening + gesture. + </p> + <p> + Marillac, at this sight, drew back a few paces, passed his whip to his + left hand and, arming himself with his Corsican poniard, placed himself in + a position of defence. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said he, with perfect deliberation, “my needle is shorter + than yours, but it pricks better. If you take one step nearer me, if you + raise your hand, I will bleed you like a wild boar.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing the firm attitude of the artist, whose solid figure seemed to + denote rather uncommon vigor, and whose moustache and sparkling eyes gave + him a rather formidable aspect at this moment; above all, when he saw the + large, sharp blade of the poniard, Lambernier stopped. + </p> + <p> + “By the gods!” exclaimed Marillac, who saw that his bold looks had + produced their effect, “you are a Provencal, and I a Gascon. You have a + quick hand, comrade—” + </p> + <p> + “But, by Jove! you are the one who has the quick hand; you struck me with + your whip as if I had been a horse. You have put my eye almost out. Do you + imagine that I am well provided for like yourself and have nothing to do + but to flirt with girls? I need my eyes in order to work, by God! Because + you are a bourgeois and I am a workman—” + </p> + <p> + “I am not more of a bourgeois than you,” replied the artist, rather glad + to see his adversary’s fury exhaust itself in words, and his attitude + assume a less threatening character; “pick up your compass and return to + your work. Here,” he added, taking two five-franc pieces from his pocket. + “You were a little boorish and I a little hasty. Go and bathe your eyes + with a glass of wine.” + </p> + <p> + Lambernier scowled and his eyes darted ugly, hateful glances. He hesitated + a moment, as if he were thinking what he had better do, and was weighing + his chances of success in case of a hostile resolve. After a few moments’ + reflection, prudence got the better of his anger. He closed his compass + and put it in his pocket, but he refused the silver offered him. + </p> + <p> + “You are generous,” said he, with a bitter smile; “five francs for each + blow of the whip! I know a good many people who would offer you their + cheek twelve hours of the day at that price. But I am not one of that + kind; I ask nothing of nobody.” + </p> + <p> + “If Leonardo da Vinci could have seen this fellow’s face just now,” + thought the artist, “he would not have had to seek so long for his model + for the face of Judas. Only for my poniard, my fate would have been + settled. This man was ready to murder me.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Lambernier,” said he, “I was wrong to strike you, and I would + like to atone for it. I have been told that you were sent away from the + chateau against your will. I am intimate enough with Monsieur de + Bergenheim to be useful to you; do you wish me to speak to him for you?” + </p> + <p> + The carpenter stood motionless in his place, with his eyes fixed upon his + adversary while the latter was preparing his horse to mount, eyes which + seemed filled with hatred to their very depths. His face suddenly changed + its expression and became abjectly polite when he heard himself addressed + anew. He shook his head two or three times before replying. + </p> + <p> + “Unless you are the very devil,” he said, “I defy you to make this + gentleman say yes when he has once said no. He turned me away like a dog; + all right. Let them laugh that win. It was that old idiot of a Rousselet + and that old simpleton of a coachman of Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s who + told tales about me. I could tell tales also if I liked.” + </p> + <p> + “But what motive could they have to send you away?” continued Marillac, + “you are a clever workman. I have seen your work at the chateau; there are + some rooms yet unfinished; there must have been some very grave reason for + their not employing you just at the moment when they needed you most.” + </p> + <p> + “They said that I talked with Mademoiselle Justine, and Madame caused me + to be discharged. She is mistress there, is she not? But I am the one to + make her repent for it.” + </p> + <p> + “And how can you make her repent for it?” asked the artist, whose + curiosity, left ungratified by Mademoiselle Reine, was growing more and + more excited, “what can you have in common with Madame la Baronne?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she is a lady and I am a workman, you mean? All the same, if I + could only whisper two or three words in her ear, she would give me more + gold than I have earned since I worked at the chateau, I am sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “By the powers! if I were in your place, I would say those words to her + this very day.” + </p> + <p> + “So as to be thrown out by that band of idle fellows in their red coats. + None of that for me. I have my own scheme; let them laugh that win!” + </p> + <p> + As he repeated this proverb, the workman uttered his usual sardonic laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Lambernier,” said the artist, in a serious tone, “I have heard of certain + very strange speeches that you have made within the last few days. Do you + know that there is a punishment by law for those who invent calumnies?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a calumny, when one can prove what he says?” replied the carpenter, + with assurance. + </p> + <p> + “What is it that you undertake to prove?” exclaimed Marillac, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! you know very well that if Monsieur le Baron—” he did not + continue, but with a coarse gesture he finished explaining his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “You can prove this?” + </p> + <p> + “Before the courts, if necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Before the courts would not amount to very much for you; but if you will + cease this talk and never open your mouth about all this, whatever it may + be, and will give to me, and me only, this proof of which you speak, I + will give you ten napoleons.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Lambernier gazed at the artist with a singularly penetrating + glance. + </p> + <p> + “So you have two sweethearts, then—one from the city and one from + the country, a married woman and this poor girl,” said he, in a jeering + tone; “does little Reine know that she is playing second fiddle?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean to insinuate?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you are more clever than I.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other in silence, trying to read each other’s + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “This is a lover of Madame de Bergenheim,” thought Lambernier, with the + barefaced impudence of his kind; “if I were to tell him what I know, my + vengeance would be in good hands, without my taking the trouble to commit + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is a sneaking fellow who pretends to be deucedly strong in + diplomacy,” said Marillac to himself; “but he is revengeful and I must + make him explain himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten napoleons are not to be found every day,” continued the carpenter, + after a moment’s silence; “you may give them to me, if you like, in a + week.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be able to prove to me, then, what you have said,” replied + Marillac, with hesitation, blushing in spite of himself at the part he was + playing at that moment, upon the odious side of which he had not looked + until now. “Bah!” said he to himself, in order to quiet his conscience, + “if this rascal really knows anything it is much better that I should buy + the secret than anybody else. I never should take advantage of it, and I + might be able to render the lady a service. Is it not a gentleman’s sworn + duty to devote himself to the defence of an imprudent beauty who is in + danger?” + </p> + <p> + “I will bring you the proof you want,” said the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “Meet me Monday at four o’clock in the afternoon at the cross-roads near + the corner of the Come woods.” + </p> + <p> + “At the end of the park?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a little above the rocks.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be there. Until then, you will not say a word to anybody?” + </p> + <p> + “That is a bargain, since you buy the goods I have for sale—” + </p> + <p> + “Here is some money to bind the trade,” replied the artist. And he handed + him the silver pieces he still held in his hand; Lambernier took them this + time without any objections, and put them in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Monday, at four o’clock!” + </p> + <p> + “Monday, at four o’clock!” repeated Marillac, as he mounted his horse and + rode away in great haste as if eager to take leave of his companion. He + turned when he reached the road, and, looking behind him, saw the workman + standing motionless at the foot of the tree. + </p> + <p> + “There is a scamp,” thought he, “whose ball and chain are waiting for him + at Toulon or Brest, and I have just concluded a devilish treaty with him. + Bah! I have nothing to reproach myself with. Of two evils choose the + least; it remains to be seen whether Gerfaut is the dupe of a coquette or + whether his love is threatened with some catastrophe; at all events, I am + his friend, and I ought to clear up this mystery and put him on his + guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten francs to-day, and ten napoleons Monday,” said Lambernier as, with an + eye in which there was a mixture of scorn and hatred, he watched the + traveller disappear. “I should be a double idiot to refuse. But this does + not pay for the blows from your whip, you puppy; when we have settled this + affair of the fine lady, I shall attend to you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. AN INHARMONIOUS MUSICALE + </h2> + <p> + The visitors referred to in the conversation between the two friends + arrived at the castle at an early hour, according to the custom in the + country, where they dine in the middle of the day. Gerfaut saw from his + chamber, where he had remained like Achilles under his tent, half a dozen + carriages drive one after another up the avenue, bringing the guests + announced by Marillac. Little by little the company scattered through the + gardens in groups; four or five young girls under Aline’s escort hurried + to a swing, to which several good-natured young men attached themselves, + and among them Gerfaut recognized his Pylades. During this time Madame de + Bergenheim was doing the honors of the house to the matrons, who thought + this amusement too youthful for their age and preferred a quiet walk + through the park. Christian, on his side, was explaining methods of + improvements to gentlemen of agricultural and industrial appearance, who + seemed to listen to him with great interest. Three or four others had + taken possession of the billiard-table; while the more venerable among the + guests had remained in the parlor with Mademoiselle de Corandeuil. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a pair of clean trousers?” asked Marillac, hastily entering his + friend’s room as the first bell rang for dinner. An enormous green stain + upon one of his knees was all the explanation necessary on this subject. + </p> + <p> + “You, lose no time,” said Gerfaut, as he opened a drawer in his closet. + “Which of these rustic beauties has had the honor of seeing you on your + knees at her feet?” + </p> + <p> + “It was that confounded swing! Silly invention! To sacrifice one’s self to + please little girls! If I am ever caught at it again I’ll let you know! + Your selfish method is a better, one. By the way, Madame de Bergenheim + asked me, with a rather sly look, whether you were ill and whether you + would not come down to dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Irony!” + </p> + <p> + “It: seemed like it. The lady smiled in a decidedly disagreeable manner. I + am not timid, but I would rather write a vaudeville in three acts than to + be obliged to make a declaration to her if she had that impish smile on + her lips. She has a way of protruding her under lip-ugh! do you know you + are terribly slender? Will you let me cut the band of your trousers? I + never could dance with my stomach compressed in this manner.” + </p> + <p> + “What about this secret you were to reveal to me?” Gerfaut interrupted, + with a smile which seemed to denote perfect security. + </p> + <p> + Marillac looked at his friend with a grave countenance, then began to + laugh in an embarrassed manner. + </p> + <p> + “We will leave serious matters until to-morrow,” he replied. “The + essential thing to-day is to make ourselves agreeable. Madame de + Bergenheim asked me a little while ago whether we would be kind enough to + sing a few duets? I accepted for us both. I do not suppose that the + inhabitants of this valley have often heard the duet from Mose with the + embellishments a la Tamburini: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Palpito a quello aspetto, + ‘Gemo nel suo dolor.’ +</pre> + <p> + “Would you prefer that or the one from ‘Il Barbiere’? although that is out + of date, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever pleases you, but do not split my head about it in advance. I + wish that music and dancing were at the bottom of the Moselle.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, but not the dinner. I gave a glance into the + dining-room; it promises to be very fine. Now, then, everybody has + returned to the house; to the table!” + </p> + <p> + The time has long since passed when Paris and the province formed two + regions almost foreign to each other. To-day, thanks to the rapidity of + communication, and the importations of all kinds which reach the centre + from the circumference without having time to spoil on the way, Paris and + the rest of France are only one immense body excited by the same opinions, + dressed in the same fashions, laughing at the same bon mot, revolutionized + by the same opinions. + </p> + <p> + Provincial customs have almost entirely lost their peculiarities; a + drawing-room filled with guests is the same everywhere. There are + sometimes exceptions, however. The company gathered at the Bergenheim + chateau was an example of one of those heterogeneous assemblies which the + most exclusive mistress of a mansion can not avoid if she wishes to be + neighborly, and in which a duchess may have on her right at the table the + village mayor, and the most elegant of ladies a corpulent justice of the + peace who believes he is making himself agreeable when he urges his fair + neighbor to frequent potations. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim had discovered symptoms of haughty jealousy among her + country neighbors, always ready to feel themselves insulted and very + little qualified to make themselves agreeable in society. So she resolved + to extend a general invitation to all those whom she felt obliged to + receive, in order to relieve herself at once of a nuisance for which no + pleasure could prove an equivalent. This day was one of her duty days. + </p> + <p> + Among these ladies, much more gorgeously than elegantly attired, these + healthy young girls with large arms, and feet shaped like flat-irons, + ponderous gentlemen strangled by their white cravats and puffed up in + their frock-coats, Gerfaut, whose nervous system had been singularly + irritated by his disappointment of the night before, felt ready to burst + with rage. He was seated at the table between two ladies, who seemed to + have exhausted, in their toilettes, every color in the solar spectrum, and + whose coquettish instincts were aroused by the proximity of a celebrated + writer. But their simperings were all lost; the one for whom they were + intended bore himself in a sulky way, which fortunately passed for + romantic melancholy; this rendered him still more interesting in the eyes + of his neighbor on the left, a plump blonde about twenty-five years old, + fresh and dimpled, who doted upon Lord Byron, a common pretension among + pretty, buxom women who adore false sentimentality. + </p> + <p> + With the exception of a bow when he entered the drawing-room, Octave had + not shown Madame de Bergenheim any attention. The cold, disdainful, bored + manner in which he patiently endured the pleasures of the day exceeded + even the privilege for boorish bearing willingly granted to gentlemen of + unquestionable talent. Clemence, on the contrary, seemed to increase in + amiability and liveliness. There was not one of her tiresome guests to + whom she did not address some pleasant remark, not one of those vulgar, + pretentious women to whom she was not gracious and attentive; one would + have said that she had a particular desire to be more attractive than + usual, and that her lover’s sombre air added materially to her good humor. + </p> + <p> + After dinner they retired to the drawing-room where coffee was served. A + sudden shower, whose drops pattered loudly against the windows, rendered + impossible all plans for amusement out of doors. Gerfaut soon noticed a + rather animated conversation taking place between Madame de Bergenheim, + who was somewhat embarrassed as to how to amuse her guests for the + remainder of the afternoon, and Marillac, who, with his accustomed + enthusiasm, had constituted himself master of ceremonies. A moment later, + the drawing-room door opened, and servants appeared bending under the + burden of an enormous grand piano which was placed between the windows. At + this sight, a tremor of delight ran through the group of young girls, + while Octave, who was standing in one corner near the mantel, finished his + Mocha with a still more melancholy air. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then!” said Marillac, who had been extremely busy during these + preparations, and had spread a dozen musical scores upon the top of the + piano, “it is agreed that we shall sing the duet from Mose. There are two + or three little boarding-school misses here whose mothers are dying for + them to show off. You understand that we must sacrifice ourselves to + encourage them. Besides, a duet for male voices is the thing to open a + concert with.” + </p> + <p> + “A concert! has Madame de Bergenheim arranged to pasture us in this + sheepfold in order to make use of us this evening?” replied Gerfaut, whose + ill-humor increased every moment. + </p> + <p> + “Five or six pieces only, afterward they will have a dance. I have an + engagement with your diva; if you wish for a quadrille and have not yet + secured your number, I should advise you to ask her for it now, for there + are five or six dandies who seem to be terribly attentive to her. After + our duet I shall sing the trio from La Date Blanche, with those young + ladies who have eyes as round as a fish’s, and apricot-colored gowns on—those + two over there in the corner, near that pretty blonde who sat beside you + at table and ogled you all the time. She had already bored me to death! I + do not know whether I shall be able to hit my low ‘G’ right or not. I have + a cataclysm of charlotte-russe in my stomach. Just listen: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘A cette complaisance!—‘” + </pre> + <p> + Marillac leaned toward his friend and roared in his ear the note supposed + to be the “G” in question. + </p> + <p> + “Like an ophicleide,” said Gerfaut, who could not help laughing at the + importance the artist attached to his display of talent. + </p> + <p> + “In that case I shall risk my great run at the end of the first solo. Two + octaves from ‘E’ to ‘E’! Zuchelli was good enough to give me a few points + as to the time, and I do it rather nicely.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame would like to speak to Monsieur,” said a servant, who interrupted + him in the midst of his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Dolce, soave amor,” warbled the artist, softly, as he responded to the + call from the lady of the house, trying to fix in his mind that run, which + he regarded as one of the most beautiful flowers in his musical crown. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was seated, Madame de Bergenheim sat at the piano and Marillac + stood behind her. The artist selected one of the scores, spread it out on + the rack, turned down the corners so that during the execution he might + not be stopped by some refractory leaf, coughed in his deep bass voice, + placed himself in such a manner as to show the side of his head which he + thought would produce the best effect upon the audience, then gave a + knowing nod to Gerfaut, who still stood gloomy and isolated in a far + corner. + </p> + <p> + “We trespass upon your kindness too much, Monsieur,” said Madame de + Bergenheim to him, when he had responded to this mute invitation; and as + she struck a few chords, she raised her dark, brown eyes to his. It was + the first glance she had given him that day; from coquetry, perhaps, or + because sorrow for her lover had softened her heart, or because she felt + remorse for the extreme harshness of her note the night before, we must + admit that this glance had nothing very discouraging in it. Octave bowed, + and spoke a few words as coldly polite as he would have spoken to a woman + sixty years of age. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim lowered her eyes and endeavored to smile + disdainfully, as she struck the first bars of the duet. + </p> + <p> + The concert began. Gerfaut had a sweet, clear, tenor voice which he used + skilfully, gliding over dangerous passages, skipping too difficult ones + which he thought beyond his execution, singing, in fact, with the prudence + of an amateur who can not spend his time studying runs and chromatic + passages four hours daily. He sang his solo with a simplicity bordering + upon negligence, and even substituted for the rather complicated passage + at the end a more than modest ending. + </p> + <p> + Clemence, for whom he had often sung, putting his whole soul into the + performance, was vexed with this affectation of indifference. It seemed to + her as if he ought, for her sake, to make more of an effort in her + drawing-room, whatever might be their private quarrel; she felt it was a + consideration due to her and to which his numerous homages had accustomed + her. She entered this new grievance in a double-entry book, which a woman + always devotes to the slightest actions of the man who pays court to her. + </p> + <p> + Marillac, on the contrary, was grateful to his friend for this + indifference of execution, for he saw in it an occasion to shine at his + expense. He began his solo ‘E il ciel per noi sereno,’ with an unusual + tension of the larynx, roaring out his low notes. Except for the extension + being a little irregular and unconnected, he did not acquit himself very + badly in the first part. When he reached his final run, he took a long + breath, as if it devolved upon him to set in motion all the windmills in + Montmartre, and started with a majestic fury; the first forty notes, while + they did not resemble Mademoiselle Grisi’s pearly tones, ascended and + descended without any notable accident; but at the last stages of the + descent, the singer’s breath and voice failed him at the same moment, the + “A” came out weak, the “G” was stifled, the “F” resembled the buzzing of a + bee, and the “E” was absent! + </p> + <p> + Zuchelli’s run was like one of those Gothic staircases which show an + almost complete state of preservation upon the upper floor, but whose + base, worn by time, leaves a solution of continuity between the ground and + the last step. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim waited the conclusion of this dangerous run, not + thinking to strike the final chord; the only sound heard was the rustling + of the dilettante’s beard, as his chin sought his voice in vain in the + depths of his satin cravat, accompanied by applause from a benevolent old + lady who had judged of the merit of the execution by the desperate + contortions of the singer. + </p> + <p> + “D—n that charlotte-russe!” growled the artist, whose face was as + red as a lobster. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the duet was sung without any new incident, and gave general + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, your piano is half a tone too low,” said the basso, with a + reproachful accent. + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” replied Clemence, who could not restrain a smile; “I have + so little voice that I am obliged to have my piano tuned to suit it. You + can well afford to pardon me for my selfishness, for you sang like an + angel.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac bowed, partly consoled by this compliment, but thinking to + himself that a hostess’s first duty was to have her piano in tune, and not + to expose a bass singer to the danger of imperilling his low “E” before an + audience of forty. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, can I be of any more service to you?” asked Gerfaut, as he leaned + toward Madame de Bergenheim, with one of his coldest smiles. + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to impose further upon your kindness, Monsieur,” said she, + in a voice which showed her secret displeasure. + </p> + <p> + The poet bowed and walked away. + </p> + <p> + Then Clemence, upon general request, sang a romance with more taste than + brilliancy, and more method than expression. It seemed as if Octave’s icy + manner had reacted upon her, in spite of the efforts she had made at first + to maintain a cheerful air. A singular oppression overcame her; once or + twice she feared her voice would fail her entirely. When she finished, the + compliments and applause with which she was overwhelmed seemed so + insupportable to her that it was with difficulty she could restrain + herself from leaving the room. While exasperated by her weakness, she + could not help casting a glance in Octave’s direction. She could not catch + his eye, however, as he was busy talking with Aline. She felt so lonely + and deserted at this moment, and longed so for this glance which she could + not obtain, that tears of vexation filled her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I was wrong to write him as I did,” thought she; “but if he really loved + me, he would not so quickly resign himself to obeying me!” + </p> + <p> + A woman in a drawing-room resembles a soldier on a breastwork; + self-abnegation is the first of her duties; however much she may suffer, + she must present as calm and serene a countenance as a warrior in the hour + of danger, and fall, if necessary, upon the spot, with death in her heart + and a smile upon her lips. In order to obey this unwritten law, Madame de + Bergenheim, after a slight interruption, seated herself at the piano to + accompany three or four young girls who were each to sing in turn the + songs that they had been drilled on for six months. + </p> + <p> + Marillac, who had gone to strengthen his stomach with a glass of rum, + atoned for his little mishap, in the trio from La Dame Blanche, and + everything went smoothly. Finally, to close this concert (may heaven + preserve us from all exhibitions of this kind!), Aline was led to the + piano by her brother, who, like all people who are not musical, could not + understand why one should study music for years if not from love for the + art. Christian was fond of his little sister and very proud of her + talents. The poor child, whose courage had all disappeared, sang in a + fresh, trembling little voice, a romance revised and corrected at her + boarding-school. The word love had been replaced by that of friendship, + and to repair this slight fault of prosody, the extra syllable disappeared + in a hiatus which would have made Boileau’s blond wig stand on end. But + the Sacred Heart has a system of versification of its own which, rather + than allow the dangerous expression to be used, let ultra-modesty destroy + poetry! + </p> + <p> + This sample of sacred music was the final number of the concert; after + that, they began dancing, and Gerfaut invited Aline. Whether because he + wished to struggle against his ill-humor, or from kindness of heart + because he understood her emotion, he began to talk with the young girl, + who was still blushing at her success. Among his talents, Octave possessed + in a peculiar degree that of adapting his conversation to the age, + position, and character of his companions. Aline listened with unconcealed + pleasure to her partner’s words; the elasticity of her step and a sort of + general trembling made her seem like a flower swaying to the breeze, and + revealed the pleasure which his conversation gave her. Every time her eyes + met Octave’s penetrating glance they fell, out of instinctive modesty. + Each word, however indifferent it might be, rang in her ears sweet and + melodious; each contact with his hand seemed to her like a tender + pressure. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut experienced a feeling of melancholy as he noticed how this fresh, + innocent rose brightened up at each word he uttered, and he thought: + </p> + <p> + “She would love me as I want to be loved, with all her heart, mind, and + soul. She would kneel before my love as before an altar, while this + coquette—” + </p> + <p> + He glanced in the direction where Madame de Bergenheim was dancing with + Marillac, and met her gaze fixed full upon him. The glance which he + received was rapid, displeased, and imperious. It signified clearly: “I + forbid you to speak thus to your partner.” + </p> + <p> + Octave, at that moment; was not disposed to obedience. After glancing over + the quadrille, as if it were by mere chance that his eyes had met + Clemence’s, he turned toward Aline and redoubled his amiability: + </p> + <p> + A moment later, he received, not directly, but through the medium of the + mirror—that so often indiscreet confidant—a second glance more + sombre and threatening than before. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said he, to himself, as he led the young girl to her seat; + “we are jealous. That alters the situation. I know now where the ramparts + are the weakest and where to begin my attack.” + </p> + <p> + No other incident marked the day. The guests left at nightfall, and the + society was reduced to the usual members of the household. Octave entered + his room after supper, humming an Italian air, evidently in such good + spirits that his friend was quite surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I give it up, I can not understand your conduct,” said the latter; “you + have been as solemn as an owl all day, and now here you are as gay as a + lark; have you had an understanding?” + </p> + <p> + “I am more vexed than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “And you enjoy being so?” + </p> + <p> + “Very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are playing ‘who loses wins!’” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly; but as my good sentiments lead to nothing, I hope to conduct + myself in such a disagreeable way as to force this capricious creature to + adore me.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! that is clever. Besides, it is a system as good as any other. + Women are such extraordinary creatures!” + </p> + <p> + “Woman,” said Octave, “resembles a pendulum, whose movement is a continual + reaction; when it moves to the right, it has to go to the left in order to + return to the right again, and so on. Suppose virtue is on one side and + love on the other, and the feminine balance between them, the odds are + that, having moved to the right in a violent manner, it will return none + the less energetically to the left; for the longer a vibration has been, + the greater play the contrary vibration has. In order to hasten the action + of this pendulum I am about to attach to it—to act as extra + balance-weight—a little anguish which I ought to have employed + sooner.” + </p> + <p> + “Why make her suffer, since you believe that she loves you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Because she drives me to it. Do you fancy that I torture her + willingly; that I take pleasure in seeing her cheeks grow pale from + insomnia and her eyes show traces of tears? I love her, I tell you; I + suffer and weep with her. But I love her, and I must make sure of her + love. If she will leave but a road full of brambles and sharp stones for + me to reach her, must I give up the struggle just because I run the risk + by taking her with me, of wounding her charming feet? I will cure them + with my kisses!” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me! I am not in love; I am an artist. If I have some peculiar + ideas, it is not my fault. And you, in your character of docile lover, + have you decided to yield?” + </p> + <p> + “Morally.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well! after all, you are right. The science of love resembles those + old signs upon which one reads: ‘Here, hair is dressed according to one’s + fancy.’ If this angel wishes her hair pulled, do it for her.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 3. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. MONSIEUR DE BERGENHEIM + </h2> + <p> + Some men in society marry too soon, a great number too late, a small and + fortunate proportion at an opportune time. Young men in the country, of + good family, are usually established in marriage by their parents as early + as possible. When the family council finds an heiress who answers all the + conditions of the programme laid out, they begin by giving the victim his + cue. Provided the young lady has not a positively crooked nose, arms too + red, and too uncouth a waist—sometimes even notwithstanding these + little misfortunes—the transaction is concluded without any + difficulty. + </p> + <p> + Clemence and Christian should be placed in the first rank of privileged + couples of this kind. The most fastidious old uncle or precise old dowager + could not discover the slightest pretense for criticism. Age, social + position, wealth, physical endowments, all seemed united by a chance as + rare as fortunate. So Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who had very high + pretensions for her niece, made no objection upon receiving the first + overtures. She had not, at this time, the antipathy for her future + nephew’s family which developed later. The Bergenheims were in her eyes + very well-born gentleman. + </p> + <p> + A meeting took place at the Russian Embassy. Bergenheim came in uniform; + it was etiquette to do so, as the minister of war was present; but at the + same time, of course, there was a little vanity on his part, for his + uniform showed off his tall, athletic figure to the best advantage. + Christian was certainly a very handsome soldier; his moustache and + eyebrows were of a lighter tint than his complexion, and gave him that + martial air which pleases women. Clemence could find no reason for a + refusal. The way in which she had been brought up by her aunt had not + rendered her so happy but that she often desired to change her situation. + Like the greater number of young girls, she consented to become a wife so + as not to remain a maiden; she said yes, so as not to say no. + </p> + <p> + As to Christian, he was in love with his wife as nine out of ten cavalry + officers know how to love, and he seemed perfectly satisfied with the + sentiment that he received in return for this sudden affection. A few + successes with young belles, for whom an epaulette has an irresistible + attraction, had inspired Baron de Bergenheim with a confidence in himself + the simplicity of which excused the conceit. He persuaded himself that he + pleased Clemence because she suited him exactly. + </p> + <p> + There are singers who pretend to read music at sight; give them a score by + Gluck—“I beg your pardon,” they will say, “my part is written here + in the key of ‘C’ and I sing only in the key of ‘G’!” How many men do not + know even the key of ‘G’ in matters of love! Unfortunately for him, + Bergenheim was one of that number. After three years of married life, he + had not divined the first note in Clemence’s character. He decided in his + own mind, at the end of a few months, that she was cold, if not heartless. + This discovery, which ought to have wounded his vanity, inspired him, on + the contrary, with a deeper respect for her; insensibly this reserve + reacted upon himself, for love is a fire whose heat dies out for want of + fuel, and its cooling off is more sudden when the flame is more on the + surface than in the depths. + </p> + <p> + The revolution of 1830 stopped Christian’s career, and gave further + pretexts for temporary absences which only added to the coolness which + already existed between husband and wife. After handing in his + resignation, the Baron fixed his residence at his chateau in the Vosges + mountains, for which he shared the hereditary predilection of his family. + His tastes were in perfect harmony with this dwelling, for he had quickly + become the perfect type of a country gentleman, scorning the court and + rarely leaving his ancestral acres. He was too kind-hearted to exact that + his wife should share his country tastes and retired life. The unlimited + confidence which he had in her, a loyalty which never allowed him to + suppose evil or suspect her, a nature very little inclined to jealousy, + made him allow Clemence the greatest liberty. The young woman lived at + will in Paris with her aunt, or at Bergenheim with her husband, without a + suspicious thought ever entering his head. Really,—what had he to + fear? What wrong could she reproach him with? Was he not full of kindness + and attention toward her? Did he not leave her mistress of her own + fortune, free to do as she liked, to gratify every caprice? He thus lived + upon his faith in the marriage contract, with unbounded confidence and + old-fashioned loyalty. + </p> + <p> + According to general opinion, Madame de Bergenheim was a very fortunate + woman, to whom virtue must be so easy that it could hardly be called a + merit. Happiness, according to society, consists in a box at the Opera, a + fine carriage, and a husband who pays the bills without frowning. Add to + the above privileges, a hundred thousand francs’ worth of diamonds, and a + woman has really no right to dream or to suffer. There are, however, poor, + loving creatures who stifle under this happiness as if under one of those + leaden covers that Dante speaks of; they breathe, in imagination, the + pure, vital air that a fatal instinct has revealed to them; they struggle + between duty and desire; they gaze, like captive doves and with a + sorrowful eye, upon the forbidden region where it would be so blissful to + soar; for, in fastening a chain to their feet, the law did not bandage + their eyes, and nature gave them wings; if the wings tear the chain + asunder, shame and misfortune await them! Society will never forgive the + heart that catches a glimpse of the joys it is unacquainted with; even a + brief hour in that paradise has to be expiated by implacable social + damnation and its everlasting flames. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. GERFAUT’S ALLEGORY + </h2> + <p> + There almost always comes a moment when a woman, in her combat against + love, is obliged to call falsehood to the help of duty. Madame de + Bergenheim had entered this terrible period, in which virtue, doubting its + own strength, does not blush to resort to other resources. At the moment + when Octave, a man of experience, was seeking assistance in exciting her + jealousy, she was meditating a plan of defence founded upon deceit. In + order to take away all hope from her lover, she pretended a sudden + affection for her husband, and in spite of her secret remorse she + persisted in this role for two days; but during the night her tears + expiated her treachery. Christian greeted his wife’s virtuous coquetry + with the gratitude and eagerness of a husband who has been deprived of + love more than he likes. Gerfaut was very indignant at the sight of this + perfidious manoeuvre, the intention of which he immediately divined; and + his rage wanted only provocation to break out in full force. + </p> + <p> + One evening they were all gathered in the drawing-room with the exception + of Aline, whom a reprimand from Mademoiselle de Corandeuil had exiled to + her room. The old lady, stretched out in her chair, had decided to be + unfaithful to her whist in favor of conversation. Marillac, leaning his + elbows upon a round table, was negligently sketching some political + caricatures, at that time very much the fashion, and particularly + agreeable to the Legitimist party. Christian, who was seated near his + wife, whose hand he was pressing with caressing familiarity, passed from + one subject to another, and showed in his conversation the overwhelming + conceit of a happy man who regards his happiness as a proof of + superiority. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut, standing, gazed gloomily at Clemence, who leaned toward her + husband and seemed to listen eagerly to his slightest word. Bergenheim was + a faithful admirer of the classics, as are all country gentlemen, who + introduce a sentiment of propriety into their literary opinions and prefer + the ancient writers to the modern, for the reason that their libraries are + much richer in old works than in modern books. The Baron unmercifully + sacrificed Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas, whom he had never read, upon + the altar of Racine and Corneille, of which he possessed two or three + editions, and yet it would have embarrassed him to recite half a dozen + verses from them. Marillac boldly defended the cause of contemporary + literature, which he considered as a personal matter, and poured out a + profusion of sarcastic remarks in which there was more wit than good + taste. + </p> + <p> + “The gods fell from Olympus, why should they not also fall from + Parnassus?” said the artist, finally, with a triumphant air. “Say what you + will, Bergenheim, your feeble opposition will not prevail against the + instincts of the age. The future is ours, let me tell you, and we are the + high priests of the new religion; is it not so, Gerfaut?” + </p> + <p> + At these words, Mademoiselle de Corandeuil shook her head, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “A new religion!” said she; “if this pretension should be verified you + would only be guilty of heresy, and, without allowing myself to be taken + in, I can understand how elevated minds and enthusiastic hearts might be + attracted by the promises of a deceptive Utopia; but you, gentlemen, whom + I believe to be sincere, do you not see to what an extent you delude + yourselves? What you call religion is the most absolute negation of + religious principles; it is the most distressing impiety ornamented with a + certain sentimental hypocrisy which has not even the courage frankly to + proclaim its principles.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, Mademoiselle, that I am religious three days out of + four,” replied Marillac; “that is something; there are some Christians who + are pious only on Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “Materialism is the source from which modern literature takes its + inspiration,” continued the old lady; “and this poisonous stream not only + dries up the thoughts which would expand toward heaven, but also withers + all that is noble in human sentiment. To-day, people are not content to + deny God, because they are not pure enough to comprehend Him; they disown + even the weakness of the heart, provided they have an exalted and + dignified character. They believe no longer in love. All the women that + your fashionable writers tell us about are vulgar and sometimes unchaste + creatures, to whom formerly a gentleman would have blushed to give one + glance or to offer a supper. I say this for your benefit, Monsieur de + Gerfaut, for in this respect you are far from being irreproachable; and I + could bring forth your books to support my theory. If I accuse you of + atheism, in love, what have you to say in reply?” + </p> + <p> + Carried away by one of those impulsive emotions which men of imagination + can not resist, Octave arose and said: + </p> + <p> + “I should not deny such an accusation. Yes, it is a sad thing, but true, + and only weak minds recoil from the truth: reality exists only in material + objects; all the rest is merely deception and fancy. All poetry is a + dream, all spiritualism a fraud! Why not apply to love the accommodating + philosophy which takes the world as it is, and does not throw a savory + fruit into the press under the pretext of extracting I know not what + imaginary essence? Two beautiful eyes, a satin skin, white teeth, and a + shapely foot and hand are of such positive and inestimable value! Is it + not unreasonable, then, to place elsewhere than in them all the wealth of + love? Intellect sustains its owner, they say; no, intelligence kills. It + is thought that corrupts sensation and causes suffering where, but for + that, joy would reign supreme. + </p> + <p> + “Thought! accursed gift! Do we give or ask a thought of the rose whose + perfume we breathe? Why not love as we breathe? Would not woman, + considered simply as a perfectly organized vegetation, be the queen of + creation? Why not enjoy her perfume as we bend before her, leaving her + clinging to the ground where she was born and lives? Why tear her from the + earth, this flower so fresh, and have her wither in our hands as we raise + her up like an offering? Why make of so weak and fragile a creature a + being above all others, for whom our enthusiasm can find no name, and then + discover her to be but an unworthy angel? + </p> + <p> + “Angel! yes, of course, but an angel of the Earth, not of Heaven; an angel + of flesh, not of light! By dint of loving, we love wrongly. We place our + mistress too high and ourselves too low; there is never a pedestal lofty + enough for her, according to our ideas. Fools! Oh! reflection is always + wise, but desire is foolish, and our conduct is regulated by our desire. + We, above all, with our active, restless minds, blase in many respects, + unbelieving in others and disrespectful in the remainder, soar over life + as over an impure lake, and look at everything with contempt, seeking in + love an altar before which we can humble our pride and soften our disdain. + </p> + <p> + “For there is in every man an insurmountable need to fall on his knees + before no matter what idol, if it remains standing and allows itself to be + adored. At certain hours, a prayerbell rings in the depth of the heart, + the sound of which throws him upon his knees as it cries: ‘Kneel!’ And + then the very being who ignores God in His churches and scorns kings upon + their thrones, the being who has already exhausted the hollow idols of + glory and fame, not having a temple to pray in, makes a fetich for himself + in order to have a divinity to adore, so as not to be alone in his + impiety, and to see, above his head when he arises, something that shall + not be empty and vacant space. This man seeks a woman, takes all that he + has, talent passion, youth, enthusiasm, all the wealth of his heart, and + throws them at her feet like the mantle that Raleigh spread out before + Elizabeth, and he says to this woman: ‘Walk, O my queen; trample under + your blessed feet the heart of your adoring slave!’ This man is a fool, is + he not? For when the queen has passed, what remains upon the mantle? Mud!” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut accompanied these words with such a withering glance that the one + for whom they were intended felt her blood freeze in her veins, and + withdrew the hand her husband had kept till then in his; she soon arose + and seated herself at the other side of the table, under the pretext of + getting nearer the lamp to work, but in reality in order to withdraw from + Christian’s vicinity. Clemence had expected her lover’s anger, but not his + scorn; she had not strength to endure this torture, and the conjugal love + which had, not without difficulty, inflamed her heart for the last few + days, fell to ashes at the first breath of Octave’s indignation. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil greeted the Vicomte’s words indulgently; for, + from consummate pride, she separated herself from other women. + </p> + <p> + “So then,” said she, “you pretend that if to-day love is painted under + false and vulgar colors, the fault is the model’s, not the artist’s.” + </p> + <p> + “You express my thought much better than I could have done it myself,” + said Gerfaut, in an ironical tone; “where are the angels whose portraits + are called for?” + </p> + <p> + “They are in our poetical dreams,” said Marillac, raising his eyes to the + ceiling with an inspired air. + </p> + <p> + “Very well! tell us your dreams then, instead of copying a reality which + it is impossible for you to render poetic, since you yourselves see it + without illusions.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut smiled bitterly at this suggestion, artlessly uttered by the + Baron. + </p> + <p> + “My dreams,” he replied, “I should tell them to you poorly indeed, for the + first blessing of the awakening is forgetfulness, and to-day I am awake. + However, I remember how I allowed myself to be once overcome by a dream + that has now vanished, but still emits its luminous trail in my eyes. I + thought I had discovered, under a beautiful and attractive appearance, the + richest treasure that the earth can bestow upon the heart of man; I + thought I had discovered a soul, that divine mystery, deep as the ocean, + ardent as a flame, pure as air, glorious as heaven itself, infinite as + space, immortal as eternity! It was another universe, where I should be + king. With what ardent and holy love I attempted the conquest of this new + world, but, less fortunate than Columbus, I met with shipwreck instead of + triumph.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence, at this avowal of her lover’s defeat, threw him a glance of + intense contradiction, then lowered her eyes, for she felt her face + suffused with burning blushes. + </p> + <p> + When he entered his room that night, Gerfaut went straight to the window. + He could see in the darkness the light which gleamed in Clemence’s room. + </p> + <p> + “She is alone,” said he to himself; “certainly heaven protects us, for in + the state of exasperation I am in, I should have killed them both.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. DECLARATION OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + Far from rejoicing at this moment in the triumph he had just obtained, + Gerfaut fell into one of those attacks of disenchantment, during which, + urged on by some unknown demon, he unmercifully administered to himself + his own dreaded sarcasm. Being unable to sleep, he arose and opened his + window again, and remained with his elbows resting upon the sill for some + time. The night was calm, numberless stars twinkled in the heavens, the + moon bathed with its silvery light the tops of the trees, through which a + monotonous breeze softly rustled. After gazing at this melancholy picture + of sleeping nature, the poet smiled disdainfully, and said to himself + “This comedy must end. I can not waste my life thus. Doubtless, glory is a + dream as well as love; to pass the night idiotically gazing at the moon + and stars is, after all, as reasonable as to grow pale over a work + destined to live a day, a year, or a century! for what renown lasts longer + than that? If I were really loved, I should not regret those wasted hours; + but is it true that I am loved? There are moments when I recover my + coolness and clearness of mind, a degree of self possession incompatible + with the enthusiasm of genuine passion; at other times, it is true, a + sudden agitation renders me powerless and leaves me as weak as a child. + Oh, yes, I love her in a strange manner; the sentiment that I feel for her + has become a study of the mind as well as an emotion of the heart, and + that is what gives it its despotic tenacity; for a material impression + weakens and gradually dies out, but when an energetic intelligence is + brought to bear upon it, it becomes desperate. I should be wrong to + complain. Passion, a passive sentiment! This word has a contradictory + meaning for me. I am a lover as Napoleon was an emperor: nobody forced the + crown upon him, he took it and crowned himself with his own hand. If my + crown happens to be a thorny one, whom can I accuse? Did not my brow crave + it? + </p> + <p> + “I have loved this woman of my own choosing, above all others; the choice + made, I have worked at my love as I would at a cherished poem; it has been + the subject of all my meditations, the fairy of all my dreams, for more + than a year. I have not had a thought in which I have not paid her homage. + I have devoted my talents to her; it seemed to me that by loving and + perpetually contemplating her image, I might at last become worthy of + painting it. I was conscious of a grand future, if only she had understood + me; I often thought of Raphael and his own Fornarina. There is a throne + vacant in poetry; I had dreamed of this throne in order to lay it at + Clemence’s feet. Oh! although this may never be more than a dream, this + dream has given me hours of incomparable happiness! I should be ungrateful + to deny it. + </p> + <p> + “And yet this love is only a fictitious sentiment; I realize it today. It + is not with her that I am in love, it is with a woman created by my + imagination, and whom I see clearly within this unfeeling marble shape. + When we have meditated for a long time, our thoughts end by taking life + and walking by our side. I can now understand the allegory of Adam taking + Eve from his own substance; but flesh forms a palpitating flesh akin to + itself; the mind creates only a shadow, and a shadow can not animate a + dead body. Two dead bodies can not make a living one; a body without a + soul is only a cadaver—and she has no soul.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut sat motionless for some time with his face buried in his hands; + suddenly he raised his head and burst into harsh laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this soaring in the clouds!” he exclaimed; “let us come down to + earth again. It is permissible to think in verse, but one must act in + prose, and that is what I shall do tomorrow. This woman’s caprices, which + she takes for efforts of virtue, have made of me a cruel and inexorable + man; I have begged in vain for peace; if she wishes war, very well, so be + it, she shall have war.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. GERFAUT WINS A POINT + </h2> + <p> + For several days, Gerfaut followed, with unrelenting perseverance, the + plan which he had mapped out in that eventful night. The most exacting + woman could but appear satisfied with the politeness he displayed toward + Madame de Bergenheim, but nothing in his conduct showed the slightest + desire for an explanation. He was so careful of every look, gesture, and + word of his, that it would have been impossible to discover the slightest + difference in his actions toward Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, and the + manner in which he treated Clemence. His choicest attentions and most + particular efforts at amiability were bestowed upon Aline. He used as much + caution as cunning, in his little game, for he knew that in spite of her + inclination to be jealous, Madame de Bergenheim would never believe in a + sudden desertion, and that she would surely discover the object of his + ruse, if he made the mistake of exaggerating it in the least. + </p> + <p> + While renouncing the idea of a direct attack, he did not work with any + less care to fortify his position. He redoubled his activity in widening + the breach between the old aunt and the husband, following the principles + of military art, that one should become master of the exterior works of a + stronghold before seriously attacking its ramparts. + </p> + <p> + It was, in a way, by reflection that Octave’s passion reached Clemence. + Every few moments she learned some detail of this indirect attack, to + which it was impossible for her to raise any objections. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Gerfaut has promised to spend a fortnight longer with us,” + said her aunt to her, in a jeering tone. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Gerfaut is very obliging,” said her husband, in his turn; “he + thinks it very strange that we have not had a genealogical tree made to + put in the drawing-room. He pretends that it is an indispensable + complement to my collection of family portraits, and he offers to do me + the favor of assuming charge of it. It seems, from what your aunt tells + me, that he is very learned in heraldry. Would you believe it, he spent + the whole morning in the library looking over files of old manuscripts? I + am delighted, for this will prolong his stay here. He is a very charming + fellow; a Liberal in politics, but a gentleman at heart. Marillac, who is + a superb penman, undertakes to make a fair copy of the genealogy and to + illuminate the crests. Do you know, we can not find my great-grandmother + Cantelescar’s coat-of-arms? But, my darling, it seems to me that you are + not very kindly disposed toward your cousin Gerfaut.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim, when these remarks and various others of a similar + nature came up, tried to change the conversation, but she felt an + antipathy for her husband bordering upon aversion. For lack of + intelligence is one of the faults women can pardon the least; they look + upon a confidence which is lulled into security by faith in their honor, + and a blindness which does not suspect the possibility of a fall, as + positive crimes. + </p> + <p> + “Look at these pretty verses Monsieur de Gerfaut has written in my album, + Clemence,” said Aline, in her turn. During vacation, among her other + pleasures forbidden her at the Sacred Heart, the young girl had purchased + a superbly bound album, containing so far but two ugly sketches in sepia, + one very bad attempt in water-colors, and the verses in question. She + called this “my album!” as she called a certain little blank book, “my + diary!” To the latter she confided every night the important events of the + day. This book had assumed such proportions, during the last few days, + that it threatened to reach the dimensions of the Duchesse d’Abrantes’ + memoires, but if the album was free to public admiration, nobody ever saw + the diary, and Justine herself never had been able to discover the + sanctuary that concealed this mysterious manuscript. + </p> + <p> + Aline was not so pleasantly received as the others, and Madame de + Bergenheim hardly concealed the ill-humor her pretty sister-in-law’s + beaming face caused her every time Octave’s name was mentioned. + </p> + <p> + The latter’s diplomatic conduct was bearing fruit, and his expectations + were being fulfilled with a precision which proved the correctness of his + calculations. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of all the contradictory sentiments of fear, remorse, + vexation, love, and jealousy, Clemence’s head was so turned, at times, + that she did not know what she did want. She found herself in one of those + situations when a woman of a complex and mobile character whom all + sensations impress, passes, with surprising facility, from one resolve to + another entirely opposed to it. After being frightened beyond measure by + her lover’s presence in her husband’s house, she ended by becoming + accustomed to it, and then by ridiculing her first terror. + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” she thought, at times, “I was too silly thus to torment myself + and make myself ill; I was wanting in self-respect to mistrust myself to + such an extent, and to see danger where there was none. He can not expect + to make himself so very formidable while scrawling this genealogical tree. + If he came one hundred leagues from Paris for that, he really does not + merit such severe treatment.” + </p> + <p> + Then, having thus reassured herself against the perils of her position, + without realizing that to fear danger less was to embolden love, she + proceeded to examine her lover’s conduct. + </p> + <p> + “He seems perfectly resigned,” she said, to herself; “not one word or + glance for two days! Since he resigns himself so easily, he might, it + seems to me, obey me entirely and go away; or, if he wishes to disobey me, + he might do it in a less disagreeable manner. For really, his manner is + almost rude; he might at least remember that I am his hostess, and that he + is in my house. I do not see what pleasure he can take in talking to this + little girl. I wager that his only object is to annoy me! He deceives + himself most assuredly; it is all the same to me! But Aline takes all this + seriously! She has become very coquettish, the last few days! It certainly + is very wrong for him to try to turn this child’s head. I should like to + know what he would say to justify himself.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, little by little, she mentally reached the point to which Octave + wished to bring her. The desire for an explanation with him, which she + dared not admit to herself at first from a feeling of pride, became + greater from day to day, and at last Octave himself could not have longed + more ardently for an interview. Now that Octave seemed to forget her, she + realized that she loved him almost to adoration. She reproached herself + for her harshness toward him more than she had ever reproached herself for + her weakness. Her antipathy for all that did not concern him increased to + such a degree that the most simple of household duties became odious to + her. It seemed to her that all the people about her were enemies bent upon + separating her from happiness, for happiness was Octave; and this + happiness, made up of words, letters, glances from him, was lost! + </p> + <p> + The evening of the fourth day, she found this torture beyond her strength. + </p> + <p> + “I shall become insane,” she thought; “to-morrow I will speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut was saying to himself, at nearly the same moment: “To-morrow I + will have a talk with her.” Thus, by a strange sympathy, their hearts + seemed to understand each other in spite of their separation. But what was + an irresistible attraction in Clemence was only a determination resulting + from almost a mathematical calculation on her lover’s part. By the aid of + this gift of second sight which intelligent men who are in love sometimes + possess, he had followed, degree by degree, the variations of her heart, + without her saying one word; and in spite of the veil of scorn and + indifference with which she still had the courage to shield herself, he + had not lost a single one of the tortures she had endured for the last + four days. Now he thought that he had discovered enough to allow him to + risk a step that, until then, he would have deemed dangerous; and with the + egotism common to all men, even the best of lovers, he trusted in the + weakness born of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + The next day a hunting party was arranged with some of the neighbors. + Early in the morning, Bergenheim and Marillac started for the rendezvous, + which was at the foot of the large oak-tree where the artist’s tete-a-tete + had been so cruelly interrupted. Gerfaut refused to join them, under the + pretence of finishing an article for the ‘Revue de Paris’, and remained at + home with the three ladies. As soon as dinner was ended, he went to his + room in order to give a semblance of truth to his excuse. + </p> + <p> + He had been busying himself for some time trimming a quill pen at the + window, which looked out upon the park, when he saw in the garden, + directly beneath him, Constance’s forefeet and nose; soon the dog jumped + upon the sill in order to warm herself in the sun. + </p> + <p> + “The old lady has entered her sanctuary,” thought Gerfaut, who knew that + it was as impossible to see Constance without her mistress as St.-Roch + without his dog. + </p> + <p> + A moment later he saw Justine and Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s maid + starting off, arm in arm, as if they were going for a promenade. Finally, + he had hardly written half a page, when he noticed Aline opposite his + window, with a straw hat upon her head and a watering-pot in her hand. A + servant carried a bucket of water and placed it near a mass of dahlias, + which the young girl had taken under her protection, and she at once set + about her work with great zeal. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Gerfaut, “let us see whether the place is approachable.” And + closing his desk, he stealthily descended the stairs. + </p> + <p> + After crossing the vestibule on the first floor, and a small gallery + decorated with commonplace pictures, he found himself at the library door. + Thanks to the genealogical tree which he had promised to compile, he + possessed a key to this room, which was not usually open. By dint of + preaching about the danger in certain reading for young girls, + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil had caused this system of locking-up, + especially designed to preserve Aline from the temptation of opening + certain novels which the old lady rejected en masse. “Young girls did not + read novels in 1780,” she would say. This put an end to all discussion and + cut short the protestations of the young girl, who was brought up + exclusively upon a diet of Le Ragois and Mentelle’s geography, and such + solid mental food. + </p> + <p> + Several large books and numerous manuscripts were spread out upon the + table in the library, together with a wide sheet of Holland paper, upon + which was sketched the family tree of the Bergenheims. Instead of going to + work, however, Gerfaut locked the door, and then went across the room and + pressed a little knob which opened a small door no one would have noticed + at first. + </p> + <p> + Leather bands representing the binding of books, like those which covered + the rest of the walls, made it necessary for one to be informed of the + existence of this secret exit in order to distinguish it from the rest of + the room. This door had had a singular attraction for Gerfaut ever since + the day he first discovered it. After silently opening it, he found + himself in a small passage at the end of which was a small spiral + staircase leading to the floor above. A cat creeping to surprise a bird + asleep could not have walked more stealthily than he, as he mounted the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + When he crossed the last step, he found himself in a small room, filled + with wardrobes, lighted by a small glass door covered with a muslin + curtain. This door opened into a little parlor which separated Madame de + Bergenheim’s private sitting-room from her sleeping-apartment. The only + window was opposite the closet and occupied almost the whole of the + woodwork, the rest of which was hung with pearl-gray stuff with lilac + figures upon it. A broad, low divan, covered with the same material as the + hanging, occupied the space in front of the window. It was the only piece + of furniture, and it seemed almost impossible to introduce even one chair + more. + </p> + <p> + The blinds were carefully closed, as well as the double curtains, and they + let in so little light that Octave had to accustom himself to the + obscurity before he could distinguish Madame de Bergenheim through the + muslin, curtains and the glass door. She was lying upon the divan, with + her head turned in his direction and a book in her hand. He first thought + her asleep, but soon noticed her gleaming eyes fastened upon the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “She is not asleep, she does not read, then she is thinking of me!” said + he to himself, by a logical deduction he believed incontestable. + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s hesitation, seeing that the young woman remained + motionless, Gerfaut tried to turn the handle of the door as softly as + possible so as to make his entrance quietly. The bolt had just noiselessly + slipped in the lock when the drawing-room door suddenly opened, a flood of + light inundated the floor, and Aline appeared upon the threshold, + watering-pot in hand. + </p> + <p> + The young girl stopped an instant, for she thought her sister-in-law was + asleep; but, meeting in the shade Clemence’s sparkling eyes, she entered, + saying in a fresh, silvery voice: + </p> + <p> + “All my flowers are doing well; I have come to water yours.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim made no reply, but her eyebrows contracted slightly + as she watched the young girl kneel before a superb datura. This almost + imperceptible symptom, and the rather ill-humored look, foretold a storm. + A few drops of water falling upon the floor gave her the needed pretext, + and Gerfaut, as much in love as he was, could not help thinking of the + fable of the wolf and the lamb, when he heard the lady of his thoughts + exclaim, in an impatient tone: + </p> + <p> + “Let those flowers alone; they do not need to be watered. Do you not see + that you are wetting the floor?” + </p> + <p> + Aline turned around and looked at the scolder for a moment; then, placing + her watering-pot upon the floor, she darted toward the divan like a kitten + that has just received a blow from its mother’s paw and feels authorized + to play with her. Madame de Bergenheim tried to rise at this unexpected + attack; but before she could sit up, she was thrown back upon the cushions + by the young girl, who seized both her hands and kissed her on each cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious! how cross you have been for the last few days!” cried + Aline, pressing her sister’s hands. “Are you going to be like your aunt? + You do nothing but scold now. What have I done? Are you vexed with me? Do + you not love me any longer?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence felt a sort of remorse at this question, asked with such a loving + accent; but her jealousy she could not overcome. To make up for it, she + kissed her sister-in-law with a show of affection which seemed to satisfy + the latter. + </p> + <p> + “What are you reading?” asked the young girl, picking up the book which + had fallen to the floor in their struggle—“Notre Dame de Paris. That + must be interesting! Will you let me read it? Oh! do! will you?” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well that my aunt has forbidden you to read novels.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! she does that just to annoy me and for no other reason. Do you think + that is right? Must I remain an idiot, and never read anything but history + and geography the rest of my life? As if I did not know that Louis + Thirteenth was the son of Henri Fourth, and that there are eighty-six + departments in France. You read novels. Does it do you any harm?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence replied in a rather imperative tone, which should have put an end + to the discussion. + </p> + <p> + “When you are married you can do as you like. Until then you must leave + your education in the hands of those who are interested in you.” + </p> + <p> + “All my friends,” replied Aline with a pout, “have relatives who are + interested in them, at least as much as your aunt is in me, and they do + not prevent their reading the books they like. There is Claire de Saponay, + who has read all of Walter Scott’s novels, Maleck-Adel, Eugenie and + Mathilde—and I do not know how many more; Gessner, Mademoiselle de + Lafayette—she has read everything; and I—they have let me read + Numa Ponzpilius and Paul and Virginia. Isn’t that ridiculous at sixteen + years of age?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not get excited, but go into the library and get one of Walter Scott’s + novels; but do not let my aunt know anything about it.” + </p> + <p> + At this act of capitulation, by which Madame de Bergenheim doubtless + wished to atone for her disagreeableness, Aline made one joyous bound for + the glass door. Gerfaut had barely time to leave his post of observation + and to conceal himself between two wardrobes, under a cloak which was + hanging there, when the young girl made her appearance, but she paid no + attention to the pair of legs which were but imperfectly concealed. She + bounded down the stairs and returned a moment later with the precious + volumes in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Waverley, or, Scotland Sixty Years Ago,” said she, as she read the title. + “I took the first one on the shelf, because you are going to lend them all + to me, one by one, are you not? Claire says that a young girl can read + Walter Scott, and that his books are very nice.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see whether you are sensible,” replied Clemence, smiling; “but, + above all things, do not let my aunt see these books, for I am the one who + would get the scolding.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not worry;—I will go and hide them in my room.” + </p> + <p> + She went as far as the door, then stopped and came back a few steps. + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” said she, “that Monsieur de Gerfaut worked in the library + yesterday, for there are piles of books on the table. It is very kind of + him to be willing to make this tree, is it not? Shall we both be in it? Do + they put women in such things? I hope your aunt will not be there; she is + not one of our family.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence’s face clouded again at the name of Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + “I know no more about it than you,” she replied, a little harshly. + </p> + <p> + “The reason I asked is because there are only pictures of men in the + drawing-room; it is not very polite on their part. I should much prefer + that there should be portraits of our grandmothers; it would be so amusing + to see the beautiful dresses that they wore in those days rather than + those old beards which frighten me. But perhaps they do not put young + girls in genealogical trees,” she continued, in a musing tone. + </p> + <p> + “You might ask Monsieur de Gerfaut; he wishes to please you too much to + refuse to tell you,” said Clemence, with an almost ironical smile. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” asked Aline, innocently. “I should never dare to ask + him.” + </p> + <p> + “You are still afraid of him, then?” + </p> + <p> + “A little,” replied the young girl, lowering her eyes, for she felt her + face flush. + </p> + <p> + This symptom made Madame de Bergenheim more vexed than ever, and she + continued, in a cutting, sarcastic tone: + </p> + <p> + “Has your cousin d’Artigues written you lately?” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Bergenheim raised her eyes and looked at her for a moment + with an indifferent air: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” she said, at last. + </p> + <p> + “What! you do not know whether you have received a letter from your + cousin?” continued Clemence, laughing affectedly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Alphonse—no, that is, yes; but it was a long time ago.” + </p> + <p> + “How cold and indifferent you are all of a sudden to this dear Alphonse! + You do not remember, then, how you wept at his departure, a year ago, and + how vexed you were with your brother who tried to tease you about this + beautiful affection, and how you swore that you would never have any other + husband than your cousin?” + </p> + <p> + “I was a simpleton, and Christian was right. Alphonse is only one year + older than I! Think of it, what a fine couple we should make! I know that + I am not very sensible, and so it is necessary that my husband should be + wise enough for both. Christian is nine years older than you, is he not?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that is too much?” asked Madame de Bergenheim. + </p> + <p> + “Quite the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “What age should you like your husband to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!—thirty,” replied the young girl, after a slight hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Gerfaut’s age?” + </p> + <p> + They gazed at each other in silence. Octave, who, from his place of + concealment heard the whole of this conversation, noticed the sad + expression which passed over Clemence’s face, and seemed to provoke entire + confidence. The young girl allowed herself to be caught by this appearance + of interest and affection. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you something,” said she, “if you will promise never to tell + a soul.” + </p> + <p> + “To whom should I repeat it? You know that I am very discreet as to your + little secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “It is because this might be perhaps a great secret,” continued Aline. + </p> + <p> + Clemence took her sister-in-law’s hand, and drew her down beside her. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” said Aline, “that Christian has promised to give me a watch + like yours, because I do not like mine. Yesterday, when we were out + walking, I told him I thought it was very unkind of him not to have given + it to me yet. Do you know what he replied?—It is true that he + laughed a little—It is hardly worth while buying you one now; when + you are the Vicomtesse de Gerfaut, your husband will give you one.’” + </p> + <p> + “Your brother was joking at your expense; how could you be such a child as + not to perceive it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not such a child!” exclaimed Aline, rising with a vexed air; “I know + what I have seen. They were talking a long time together in the + drawing-room last evening, and I am sure they were speaking of me.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim burst into laughter, which increased her + sister-in-law’s vexation, for she was less and less disposed to be treated + like a young girl. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Aline!” said the Baroness, at last; “they were talking about the + fifth portrait; Monsieur de Gerfaut can not find the name of the original + among the old papers, and he thinks he did not belong to the family. You + know, that old face with the gray beard, near the door.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl bent her head, like a child who sees her naughty sister + throw down her castle of cards. + </p> + <p> + “And how do you know?” said she, after a moment’s reflection. “You were at + the piano. How could you hear at the other end of the room what Monsieur + de Gerfaut was saying?” + </p> + <p> + It was Clemence’s turn to hang her head, for it seemed to her that the + girl had suspected the constant attention which, under an affectation of + indifference, never allowed her to lose one of Octave’s words. As usual, + she concealed her embarrassment by redoubling her sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” said she, “I was mistaken, and you may be right after all. + What day shall we have the honor of saluting Madame la Vicomtesse de + Gerfaut?” + </p> + <p> + “I foolishly told you what I imagined, and you at once make fun of me,” + said Aline, whose round face lengthened at each word, and passed from + rose-color to scarlet; “is it my fault that my brother said this?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think it was necessary for him to speak of it, for you to think + a great deal about the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; must one not think of something?” + </p> + <p> + “But one should be careful of one’s thoughts; it is not proper for a young + girl to think of any man,” replied Clemence, with an accent of severity + which would have made her aunt recognize with pride the pure blood of the + Corandeuils. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is more proper for a young girl to do so than for a married + woman.” + </p> + <p> + At this unexpected retort, Madame de Bergenheim lost countenance and sat + speechless before the young maiden, like a pupil who has just been + punished by his teacher. + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil did the little serpent get that idea?” thought Gerfaut, + who was very ill at ease between the two wardrobes where he was concealed. + </p> + <p> + Seeing that her sister-in-law did not reply to her, Aline took this + silence from confusion for an expression of bad temper, and at once became + angry in her turn. + </p> + <p> + “You are very cross to-day,” said she; “good-by, I do not want your + books.” + </p> + <p> + She threw the volumes of Waverley upon the sofa, picked up her + watering-pot and went out, closing the door with a loud bang. Madame de + Bergenheim sat motionless with a pensive, gloomy air, as if the young + girl’s remark had changed her into a statue. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I enter?” said Octave to himself, leaving his niche and putting his + hand upon the door-knob. “This little simpleton has done me an infinite + wrong with her silly speeches. I am sure that she is cruising with full + sails set upon the stormy sea of remorse, and that those two rosebuds she + is gazing at now seem to her like her husband’s eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Before the poet could make up his mind what to do, the Baroness arose and + left the room, closing the door almost as noisily as her sister-in-law had + done. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut went downstairs, cursing, from the very depths of his heart, + boarding-school misses and sixteen-year-old hearts. After walking up and + down the library for a few moments, he left it and started to return to + his room. As he passed the drawing-room, loud music reached his ear; + chromatic fireworks, scales running with the rapidity of the cataract of + Niagara, extraordinary arpeggios, hammering in the bass with a petulance + and frenzy which proved that the ‘furie francaise’ is not the exclusive + right of the stronger sex. In this jumble of grave, wild, and sad notes, + Gerfaut recognized, by the clearness of touch and brilliancy of some of + the passages, that this improvisation could not come from Aline’s + unpractised fingers. He understood that the piano must be at this moment + Madame de Bergenheim’s confidant, and that she was pouring out the + contradictory emotions in which she had indulged for several days; for, to + a heart deprived of another heart in which to confide its joys and woes, + music is a friend that listens and replies. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut listened for some time in silence, with his head leaning against + the drawing-room door. Clemence wandered through vague melodies without + fixing upon any one in particular. At last a thought seemed to captivate + her. After playing the first measures of the romance from Saul, she + resumed the motive with more precision, and when she had finished the + ritornello she began to sing, in a soft, veiled voice, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Assisa al pie d’un salice—” + </pre> + <p> + Gerfaut had heard her sing this several times, in society, but never with + this depth of expression. She sang before strangers with her lips; now it + all came from her heart. At the third verse, when he believed her to be + exalted by her singing and the passion exhaled in this exquisite song, the + poet softly entered, judging it to be a favorable moment, and enough + agitated himself to believe in the contagion of his agitation. + </p> + <p> + The first sight which met his eyes was Mademoiselle de Corandeuil + stretched out in her armchair, head thrown back, arms drooping and letting + escape by way of accompaniment a whistling, crackling, nasal melody. The + old maid’s spectacles hanging on the end of her nose had singularly + compromised the harmony of her false front. The ‘Gazette de France’ had + fallen from her hands and decorated the back of Constance, who, as usual, + was lying at her mistress’s feet. + </p> + <p> + “Horrible old witch!” said Gerfaut to himself. “Decidedly, the Fates are + against me to-day.” However, as both mistress and dog were sleeping + soundly, he closed the door and tiptoed across the floor. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim had ceased to sing, but her fingers still continued + softly to play the motive of the song. As she saw Octave approaching her, + she leaned over to look at her aunt, whom she had not noticed to be + asleep, as the high back of her chair was turned toward her. Nobody sleeps + in a very imposing manner, but the old lady’s profile, with her false + front awry, was so comical that it was too much for her niece’s gravity. + The desire to laugh was, for the moment, stronger than respect for + melancholy; and Clemence, through that necessity for sympathy peculiar to + acute merriment, glanced involuntarily at Octave, who was also smiling. + Although there was nothing sentimental in this exchange of thoughts, the + latter hastened to profit by it; a moment more, and he was seated upon a + stool in front of the piano, at her left and only a few inches from her. + </p> + <p> + “How can a person sleep when you are singing?” + </p> + <p> + The most embarrassed freshman could have turned out as bright a speech as + this; but the eloquence of it lay less in the words than in the + expression. The ease and grace with which Octave seated himself, the + elegant precision of his manner, the gracious way in which he bent his + head toward Clemence, while speaking, showed a great aptitude in this kind + of conversation. If the words were those of a freshman, the accent and + pose were those of a graduate. + </p> + <p> + The Baroness’s first thought was to rise and leave the room, but an + invincible charm held her back. She was not mistress enough of her eyes to + dare to let them meet Octave’s; so she turned them away and pretended to + look at the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “I have a particular talent for putting my aunt to sleep,” said she, in a + gay tone; “she will sleep until evening, if I like; when I stop playing, + the silence awakens her.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, continue to play; never awaken her,” said Gerfaut; and, as + if he were afraid his wish would not be granted, he began to pound in the + bass without being disturbed by the unmusical sounds. + </p> + <p> + “Do not play discords,” said Clemence, laughing; “let us at least put her + to sleep in tune.” + </p> + <p> + She was wrong to say us; for her lover took this as complicity for + whatever might happen. Us, in a tete-a-tete, is the most traitorous word + in the whole language. + </p> + <p> + It may be that Clemence had no great desire that her aunt should awaken; + perhaps she wished to avoid a conversation; perhaps she wished to enjoy in + silence the happiness of feeling that she was still loved, for since he + had seated himself beside her Octave’s slightest action had become a + renewed avowal. Madame de Bergenheim began to play the Duke of + Reichstadt’s Waltz, striking only the first measure of the accompaniment, + in order to show her lover where to put his fingers. + </p> + <p> + The waltz went on. Clemence played the air and Octave the bass, two of + their hands remaining unoccupied—those that were close to each + other. Now, what could two idle hands do, when one belonged to a man + deeply in love, the other to a young woman who for some time had + ill-treated her lover and exhausted her severity? Before the end of the + first part, the long unoccupied, tapering fingers of the treble were + imprisoned by those of the bass, without the least disturbance in the + musical effect—and the old aunt slept on! + </p> + <p> + A moment later, Octave’s lips were fastened upon this rather trembling + hand, as if he wished to imbibe, to the very depths of his soul, the soft, + perfumed tissue. Twice the Baroness tried to disengage herself, twice her + strength failed her. It was beginning to be time for the aunt to awaken, + but she slept more soundly than ever; and if a slight indecision was to be + noticed in the upper hand, the lower notes were struck with an energy + capable of metamorphosing Mademoiselle de Corandeuil into a second + Sleeping Beauty. + </p> + <p> + When Octave had softly caressed this hand for a long time, he raised his + head in order to obtain a new favor. This time Madame de Bergenheim did + not turn away her eyes, but, after looking at Octave for an instant, she + said to him in a coquettish, seductive way: + </p> + <p> + “Aline?” + </p> + <p> + The mute glance which replied to this question was such an eloquent denial + that all words were superfluous. His sweet, knowing smile betrayed the + secret of his duplicity; he was understood and forgiven. There was at this + moment no longer any doubt, fear, or struggle between them. They did not + feel the necessity of any explanation as to the mutual suffering they had + undergone; the suffering no longer existed. They were silent for some + time, happy to look at each other, to be together and alone-for the old + aunt still slept. Not a sound was to be heard; one would have said that + sleep had overcome the two lovers also. Suddenly the charm was broken by a + terrible noise, like a trumpet calling the guilty ones to repentance. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. A RUDE INTERRUPTION + </h2> + <p> + Had a cannon-ball struck the two lovers in the midst of their ecstasy it + would have been less cruel than the sensation caused by this horrible + noise. Clemence trembled and fell back in her chair, frozen with horror. + Gerfaut rose, almost as frightened as she; Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, + aroused from her sleep, sat up in her chair as suddenly as a Jack-in-a-box + that jumps in one’s face when a spring is touched. As to Constance, she + darted under her mistress’s chair, uttering the most piteous howls. + </p> + <p> + One of the folding-doors opposite the window opened; the bell of a + hunting-horn appeared in the opening, blown at full blast and waking the + echoes in the drawing-room. The curtain of the drama had risen upon a + parody, a second incident had changed the pantomime and sentiments of the + performers. The old lady fell back in her chair and stopped up her ears + with her fingers, as she stamped upon the floor; but it was in vain for + her to try to speak, her words were drowned by the racket made by this + terrible instrument. Clemence also stopped her ears. After running in her + terror, under every chair in the room, Constance, half wild, darted, in a + fit of despair, through the partly opened door. Gerfaut finally began to + laugh heartily as if he thought it all great fun, for M. de Bergenheim’s + purple face took the place of the trumpet and his hearty laugh rang out + almost as noisily. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ha! you did not expect that kind of accompaniment,” said the Baron, + when his gayety had calmed a little; “this is the article that you were + obliged to write for the Revue de Paris, is it? Do you think that I am + going to leave you to sing Italian duets with Madame while I am scouring + the woods? You must take me for a very careless husband, Vicomte. Now, + then, right about face! March! Do me the kindness to take a gun. We are + going to shoot a few hares in the Corne woods before supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Bergenheim,” exclaimed the old lady, when her emotion would + allow her to speak, “this is indecorous—vulgar—the conduct of + a common soldier—of a cannibal! My head is split open; I am sure to + have an awful neuralgia in a quarter of an hour. It is the conduct of a + herdsman.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not think of your neuralgia, my dear aunt,” replied Christian, whose + good-humor seemed aroused by the day’s sport; “you are as fresh as a + rosebud—and Constance shall have some hares’ heads roasted for her + supper.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a second uproar was heard in the courtyard; a horn was + evidently being played by an amateur, accompanied by the confused yelps + and barks of a numerous pack of hounds; the whole was mingled with shouts + of laughter, the cracking of whips, and clamors of all kinds. In the midst + of this racket, a cry, more piercing than the others, rang out, a cry of + agony and despair. + </p> + <p> + “Constance!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, in a falsetto voice + full of terror; she rushed to one of the windows and all followed her. + </p> + <p> + The spectacle in the courtyard was as noisy as it was picturesque. + Marillac, seated upon a bench, was blowing upon a trumpet, trying to play + the waltz from Robert-le-Diable in a true infernal manner. At his feet + were seven or eight hunters and as many servants encouraging him by their + shouts. The Baron’s pack of hounds, of great renown in the country, was + composed of about forty dogs, all branded upon their right thighs with the + Bergenheim coat-of-arms. From time immemorial, the chateau’s dogs had been + branded thus with their master’s crest, and Christian, who was a great + stickler for old customs, had taken care not to drop this one. This feudal + sign had probably acted upon the morals of the pack, for it was impossible + to find, within twenty leagues, a collection of more snarly terriers, + dissolute hounds, ugly bloodhounds, or more quarrelsome greyhounds. They + were perfect hunters, but it seemed as if, on account of their being dogs + of quality, all vices were permitted them. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this horde, without respect for law or order, the + unfortunate Constance had found herself after crossing the ante-chamber, + vestibule, and outside steps, still pursued by the sounds from Christian’s + huge horn. An honest merchant surprised at the turn of the road by a band + of robbers would not have been greeted any better than the poodle was at + the moment she darted into the yard. It may have been that the quarrel + between the Bergenheims and Corandeuils had reached the canine species; it + may have been at the instigation of the footmen, who all cordially + detested the beast—the sad fact remains that she was pounced upon in + a moment as if she were a deer, snatched, turned topsy-turvy, rolled, + kicked about, and bitten by the forty four-legged brigands, who each + seemed determined to carry away as a trophy some portion of her + cafe-au-lait colored blanket. + </p> + <p> + The person who took the most delight in this deplorable spectacle was Pere + Rousselet. He actually clapped his hands together behind his back, spread + his legs apart in the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes, while his + coat-skirts almost touched the ground, giving him the look of a kangaroo + resting his paws under his tail. From his large cockatoo mouth escaped + provoking hisses, which encouraged the assassins in their crime as much as + did Marillac’s racket. + </p> + <p> + “Constance!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil a second time, frozen + with horror at the sight of her poodle lying upon its back among its + enemies. + </p> + <p> + This call produced no effect upon the animal section of the actors in this + scene, but it caused a sudden change among the servants and a few of the + hunters; the shouts of encouragement ceased at once; several of the + participants prudently tried to efface themselves; as to Rousselet, more + politic than the others, he boldly darted into the melee and picked up the + fainting puppy in his arms, carrying her as tenderly as a mother would an + infant, without troubling himself whether or not he was leaving part of + his coat-tails with the savage hounds. + </p> + <p> + When the old lady saw the object of her love placed at her feet covered + with mud, sprinkled with blood, and uttering stifled groans, which she + took for the death-rattle, she fell back in her chair speechless. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go,” said Bergenheim in a low voice, taking his guest by the arm. + Gerfaut threw a glance around him and sought Clemence’s eyes, but he did + not find them. Without troubling herself as to her aunt’s despair, + Clemence had hurried to her room; for she felt the necessity of solitude + in order to calm her emotions, or perhaps to live them over a second time. + Octave resigned himself to following his companion. At the end of a few + moments, the barking of the dogs, the joking of the hunters, even the wind + in the trees and the rustling leaves, had bored Octave to such an extent + that, in spite of himself, his face betrayed him. + </p> + <p> + “What a doleful face you have!” exclaimed his host, laughingly. “I am + sorry that I took you away from Madame de Bergenheim; it seems that you + decidedly prefer her society to ours.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you be very jealous if I were to admit the fact?” replied Octave, + making an effort to assume the same laughing tone as the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Jealous! No, upon my honor! However, you are well constituted to give + umbrage to a poor husband. + </p> + <p> + “But jealousy is not one of my traits of character, nor among my + principles.” + </p> + <p> + “You are philosophical!” said the lover, with a forced smile. + </p> + <p> + “My philosophy is very simple. I respect my wife too much to suspect her, + and I love her too much to annoy her in advance with an imaginary trouble. + If this trouble should come, and I were sure of it, it would be time + enough to worry myself about it. Besides, it would be an affair soon + settled.” + </p> + <p> + “What affair?” asked Marillac, slackening his pace in order to join in the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “A foolish affair, my friend, which does not concern you, Monsieur de + Gerfaut, nor myself any longer, I hope; although I belong to the class + exposed to danger. We were speaking of conjugal troubles.” + </p> + <p> + The artist threw a glance at his friend which signified: “What the deuce + made you take it into your head to start up this hare?” + </p> + <p> + “There are many things to be said on this subject,” said he, in a + sententious tone, thinking that his intervention might be useful in + getting his friend out of the awkward position in which he found himself, + “an infinite number of things may be said; books without number have been + written upon this subject. Every one has his own system and plan of + conduct as to the way of looking at and acting upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would be yours, you consummate villain?” asked Christian; “would + you be as cruel a husband as you are an immoral bachelor? That usually + happens; the bolder a poacher one has been, the more intractable a + gamekeeper one becomes. What would be your system?” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! hum! you are mistaken, Bergenheim; my boyish love adventures have + disposed me to indulgence. ‘Debilis caro’, you know! Shakespeare has + translated it, ‘Frailty, thy name is woman!’” + </p> + <p> + “I am a little rusty in my; Latin and I never knew a word of English. What + does that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, it means, if I were married and my wife deceived me, I + should resign myself to it like a gentleman, considering the fragility of + this enchanting sex.” + </p> + <p> + “Mere boy’s talk, my friend! And you, Gerfaut?” + </p> + <p> + “I must admit,” replied the latter, a little embarrassed, “that I have + never given the subject very much thought. However, I believe in the + virtue of women.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all very well, but in case of misfortune what would you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should say with Lanoue: ‘Sensation is for the fop, complaints + for the fool, an honest man who is deceived goes away and says nothing.’” + </p> + <p> + “I partly agree with Lanoue; only I should make a little variation—instead + of goes away should say avenges himself.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac threw at his friend a second glance full of meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Per Bacco!” said he, “are you a Venetian or a Castilian husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh!” replied Bergenheim, “I suppose that without being either, I should + kill my wife, the other man, and then myself, without even crying, + ‘Beware!’ Here! Brichou! pay attention; Tambeau is separated from the + rest.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words the Baron leaped over a broad ditch, which divided + the road from the clearing which the hunters had already entered. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that?” murmured the artist, in a rather dramatic tone, + in his friend’s ear. + </p> + <p> + Instead of replying, the lover made a gesture which signified, according + to all appearance: “I do not care.” + </p> + <p> + The clearing they must cross in order to reach the woods formed a large, + square field upon an inclined plane which sloped to the river side. Just + as Marillac in his turn was jumping the ditch, his friend saw, at the + extremity of the clearing, Madame de Bergenheim walking slowly in the + avenue of sycamores. A moment later, she had disappeared behind a mass of + trees without the other men noticing her. + </p> + <p> + “Take care that you do not slip,” said the artist, “the ground is wet.” + </p> + <p> + This warning brought misfortune to Gerfaut, who in jumping caught his foot + in the root of a tree and fell. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt?” asked Bergenheim. + </p> + <p> + Octave arose and tried to walk, but was obliged to lean upon his gun. + </p> + <p> + “I think I have twisted my foot,” said he, and he carried his hand to it + as if he felt a sharp pain there. + </p> + <p> + “The devil! it may be a sprain,” observed the Baron, coming toward them; + “sit down. Do you think you will be able to walk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I fear hunting would be too much for me; I will return to the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish us to make a litter and carry you?” + </p> + <p> + “You are laughing at me; it’s not so bad as that. I will walk back slowly, + and will take a foot-bath in my room.” + </p> + <p> + “Lean upon me, then, and I will help you,” said the artist, offering his + arm. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks; I do not need you,” Octave replied; “go to the devil!” he + continued, in an expressive aside. + </p> + <p> + “Capisco!” Marillac replied, in the same tone, giving his arm an + expressive pressure. “Excuse me,” said he aloud, “I am not willing that + you should go alone. I will be your Antigone— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Antigone me reste, Antigone est and fille. +</pre> + <p> + “Bergenheim, I will take charge of him. Go on with your hunting, the + gentlemen are waiting for you. We will meet again at supper; around the + table; legs are articles of luxury and sprains a delusion, provided that + the throat and stomach are properly treated.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked first at his guests, then at the group that had just + reached the top of the clearing. For an instant Christian charity + struggled against love of hunting, then the latter triumphed. As he saw + that Octave, although limping slightly, was already in a condition to + walk, especially with the aid of his friend’s arm, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Do not forget to put your foot in water, and send for Rousselet; he + understands all about sprains.” + </p> + <p> + This advice having eased his conscience, he joined his companions, while + the two friends slowly took the road back to the chateau, Octave resting + one hand upon the artist’s arm and the other upon his gun. + </p> + <p> + “The bourgeois is outwitted!” said Marillac with a stifled laugh, as soon + as he was sure that Bergenheim could not hear him. “Upon my word, these + soldiers have a primitive, baptismal candor! It is not so with us artists; + they could not bamboozle us in this way. Your strain is an old story; it + is taken from the ‘Mariage de raison’, first act, second scene.” + </p> + <p> + “You will do me the favor to leave me as soon as we reach the woods,” said + Gerfaut, as he continued to limp with a grace which would have made Lord + Byron envious; “you may go straight ahead, or you may turn to the left, as + you choose; the right is forbidden you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Hearts are trumps, it seems, and, for the time being, you + agree with Sganarelle, who places the heart on the right side.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not return to the chateau, as it is understood that we are together. + If you rejoin the hunting-party, say to Bergenheim that you left me seated + at the foot of a tree and that the pain in my foot had almost entirely + gone. You would have done better not to accompany me, as I tried to make + you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I had reasons of my own for wishing to get out of Christian’s crowd. + To-day is Monday, and I have an appointment at four o’clock which + interests you more than me. Now, will you listen to a little advice?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, yes; follow it, not so sure.” + </p> + <p> + “O race of lovers!” exclaimed the artist, in a sort of transport, + “foolish, absurd, wicked, impious, and sacrilegious kind!” + </p> + <p> + “What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “What of it? I tell you this will all end with swords for two.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that this rabid Bergenheim, with his round face and + good-natured smile, killed three or four men while he was in the service, + on account of a game of billiards or some such trivial matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Requiescat in pace.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care that he does not cause the ‘De Profundis’ to be sung for you. + He was called the best swords man at Saint-Cyr: he has the devil of a + lunge. As to pistol-shooting, I have seen him break nine plaster images at + Lepage’s one after another.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, if I have an engagement with him, we will fight it out with + arsenic.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, joking is out of place. I tell you that he is sure to discover + something, and then your business will soon be settled; he will kill you + as if you were one of the hares he is hunting this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “You might find a less humiliating comparison for me,” replied Gerfaut, + with an indifferent smile; “however, you exaggerate. I have always noticed + that these bullies with mysterious threats of their own and these + slaughterers of plaster images were not such very dangerous fellows to + meet. This is not disputing Bergenheim’s bravery, for I believe it to be + solid and genuine.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, he is a regular lion! After all, you will admit that it is + sheer folly to come and attack him in his cage and pull his whiskers + through the bars. And that is what you are doing. To be in love with his + wife and pay court to her in Paris, when he is a hundred leagues from you, + is all very well, but to install yourself in his house, within reach of + his clutches! that is not love, it is sheer madness. This is nothing to + laugh at. I am sure that this will end in some horrible tragedy. You heard + him speak of killing his wife and her lover just now, as if it were a very + slight matter. Very well; I know him; he will do as he says without + flinching. These ruddy-faced people are very devils, if you meddle with + their family affairs! He is capable of murdering you in some corner of his + park, and of burying you at the foot of some tree and then of forcing + Madame de Bergenheim to eat your heart fricasseed in champagne, as they + say Raoul de Coucy did.” + </p> + <p> + “You will admit, at least, that it would be a very charming repast, and + that there would be nothing bourgeois about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, I boast of detesting the bourgeois; I am celebrated for that; + but I should much prefer to die in a worsted nightcap, flannel underwear, + and cotton night-shirt, than to have Bergenheim assist me, too brusquely, + in this little operation. He is such an out-and-out Goliath! Just look at + him!” + </p> + <p> + And the artist forced his friend to turn about, and pointed at Christian, + who stood with the other hunters upon the brow of the hill, a few steps + from the spot where they had left him. The Baron was indeed a worthy + representative of the feudal ages, when physical strength was the only + incontestable superiority. In spite of the distance, they could hear his + clear, ringing voice although they could not distinguish his words. + </p> + <p> + “He really has a look of the times of the Round Table,” said Gerfaut; + “five or six hundred years ago it would not have been very agreeable to + find one’s self face to face with him in a tournament; and if to-day, as + in those times, feminine hearts were won by feats with double-edged + swords, I admit that my chances would not be very good. Fortunately, we + are emancipated from animal vigor; it is out, of fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of fashion, if you like; meanwhile, he will kill you.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand the charms of danger nor the attractions that + difficulties give to pleasure. I have studied Christian thoroughly since I + have been here, and I know him as well as if I had passed my life with + him. I am also sure that, at the very first revelation, he will kill me if + he can, and I take a strange interest in knowing that I risk my life thus. + Here we are in the woods,” said Gerfaut, as he dropped the artist’s arm + and ceased limping; “they can no longer see us; the farce is played out. + You know what I told you to say if you join them: you left me at the foot + of a tree. You are forbidden to approach the sycamores, under penalty of + receiving the shot from my gun in your moustache.” + </p> + <p> + At these words he threw the gun which had served him as crutch over his + shoulder, and darted off in the direction of the river. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. ESPIONAGE + </h2> + <p> + At the extremity of the sycamore walk, the shore formed a bluff like the + one upon which the chateau was built, but much more abrupt, and partly + wooded. In order to avoid this stretch, which was not passable for + carriages, the road leading into the principal part of the valley turned + to the right, and reached by an easier ascent a more level plateau. There + was only one narrow path by the river, which was shaded by branches of + beeches and willows that hung over this bank into the river. After walking + a short distance through this shady path, one found himself before a huge + triangular rock covered with moss, which nature had rolled from the top of + the mountain as if to close up the passage. + </p> + <p> + This obstacle was not insurmountable; but in order to cross it, one must + have a sure foot and steady head, for the least false step would + precipitate the unlucky one into the river, which was rapid as well as + deep. From the rock, one could reach the top of the cliff by means of some + natural stone steps, and then, descending on the other side, could resume + the path by the river, which had been momentarily interrupted. In this + case, one would reach, in about sixty steps, a place where the river grew + broader and the banks projected, forming here and there little islands of + sand covered with bushes. Here was a ford well known to shepherds and to + all persons who wished to avoid going as far as the castle bridge. + </p> + <p> + Near the mossy rock of which we have spoken as being close to the sycamore + walk, at the foot of a wall against which it flowed, forming a rather deep + excavation, the current had found a vein of soft, brittle stone which, by + its incessant force, it had ended in wearing away. It was a natural grotto + formed by water, but which earth, in its turn, had undertaken to + embellish. An enormous willow had taken root in a few inches of soil in a + fissure of the rock, and its drooping branches fell into the stream, which + drifted them along without being able to detach them. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim was seated at the front of this grotto, upon a seat + formed by the base of the rock. She was tracing in the sand, with a stick + which she had picked up on the way, strange figures which she carefully + erased with her foot. Doubtless these hieroglyphics had some meaning to + her, and perhaps she feared lest the slightest marks might be carelessly + forgotten, as they would betray the secret they concealed. Clemence was + plunged into one of those ecstatic reveries which abolish time and + distance. The fibres of her heart, whose exquisite vibrating had been so + suddenly paralyzed by Christian’s arrival, had resumed their passionate + thrills. She lived over again in her mind the tete-a-tete in the + drawing-room; she could hear the entrancing waltz again; she felt her + lover’s breath in her hair; her hand trembled again under the pressure of + his kiss. When she awoke from this dream it was a reality; for Octave was + seated by her side without her having seen him arrive, and he had taken up + the scene at the piano just where it had been interrupted. + </p> + <p> + She was not afraid. Her mind had reached that state of exaltation which + renders imperceptible the transition from dreaming to reality. It seemed + to her that Octave had always been there, that it was his place, and for a + moment she no longer thought, but remained motionless in the arms which + embraced her. But soon her reason came back to her. She arose trembling, + and drew away a few steps, standing before her lover with lowered head and + face suffused with blushes. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you afraid of me? Do you not think me worthy of your love?” he + asked, in an altered voice, and, without trying to retain or approach her, + he fell upon his knees with a movement of sweet, sad grace. + </p> + <p> + He had analyzed Madame de Bergenheim’s character well enough to perceive + the least variation in her capricious nature. By the young woman’s + frightened attitude, her burning cheeks and the flashes which he saw from + her eyes through her long, drooping lashes, he saw that a reaction had + taken place, and he feared the next outburst; for he knew that women, when + overcome with remorse, always smite their lover by way of expiation for + themselves. + </p> + <p> + “If I let this recovered virtue have the mastery, I am a lost man for a + fortnight at least,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + He quickly abandoned the dangerous ground upon which he had taken + position, and passed, by an adroit transition, from the most passionate + frenzy to the most submissive bearing. When Clemence raised her large + eyes, in which was a threatening gleam, she saw, instead of an audacious + man to be punished, an imploring slave. + </p> + <p> + There was something so flattering in this attitude of humility that she + was completely disarmed. She approached Octave, and took him by the hand + to raise him, seated herself again and allowed him to resume his position + beside her. She softly pressed his hand, of which she had not let go, and, + looking her lover in the eyes, said in that deep, penetrating voice that + women sometimes have: + </p> + <p> + “My friend!” + </p> + <p> + “Friend!” he thought; “yes, certainly. I will raise no dispute as to the + word, provided the fact is recognized. What matters the color of the flag? + Only fools trouble themselves about that. ‘Friend’ is not the throne I + aspire to, but it is the road that leads to it. So then, let it be + ‘friend,’ while waiting for better. This word is very pleasant to hear + when spoken in these siren’s accents, and when at the same time the eyes + say ‘lover!’” + </p> + <p> + “Will you always love me thus?” Octave asked, whose face beamed with + virtuous pledges. + </p> + <p> + “Always!” sighed Clemence, without lowering eyes under the burning glance + which met hers. + </p> + <p> + “You will be the soul of my soul; the angel of my heaven?” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister,” she said, with a sweet smile, as she caressed her lover’s + cheek with her hand. + </p> + <p> + He felt the blood mount to his face at this caress, and turned his eyes + away with a dreamy air. + </p> + <p> + “I probably am one of the greatest fools that has ever existed since the + days of Joseph and Hippolytus,” thought he. + </p> + <p> + He remained silent and apparently indifferent for several moments. + </p> + <p> + “Of what are you thinking?” asked Madame de Bergenheim, surprised by + Octave’s silence and rather listless air. + </p> + <p> + He gave a start of surprise at this question. + </p> + <p> + “May I die if I tell her!” he thought; “she must think me ridiculous + enough as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, I wish you to speak out,” she continued, in that despotic tone + which a woman assumes when sure of her empire. + </p> + <p> + Instead of replying, as she demanded, he gave her a long, questioning + glance, and it would have been impossible at that moment for her to keep a + single secret from her lover. Madame de Bergenheim felt the magnetic + influence of his penetrating glance so deeply that it seemed to her these + sharp eyes were fathoming her very heart. She felt intensely disturbed to + be gazed at in that way, and, in order to free herself from this mute + questioning, she leaned her head upon Octave’s shoulder, as she said + softly: + </p> + <p> + “Do not look at me like that or I shall not love your eyes any more.” + </p> + <p> + Her straw hat, whose ribbons were not tied, slipped and fell, dragging + with it the comb which confined her beautiful hair, and it fell in + disorder over her shoulders. Gerfaut passed his hand behind the charming + head which rested upon his breast, in order to carry this silky, perfumed + fleece to his lips. At the same time, he gently pressed the supple form + which, as it bent toward him, seemed to ask for this caress. + </p> + <p> + Clemence made a sudden effort and arose, fastening her hair at the back of + her head with an almost shamed haste. + </p> + <p> + “Will you refuse me one lock of your hair as a souvenir of this hour?” + said Octave, stopping her gently as she was about to replace her comb. + </p> + <p> + “Do you need any souvenir?” she replied, giving him a glance which was + neither a reproach nor a refusal. + </p> + <p> + “The souvenir is in my heart, the hair will never leave my bosom! We live + in an unworthy age. I can not boast of wearing your colors in everybody’s + eyes, and yet I should like to wear a sign of my bondage.” + </p> + <p> + She let her hair fall down her back again, but seemed embarrassed as to + how to execute his wish. + </p> + <p> + “I can not cut my hair with my teeth,” she said, with a smile which + betrayed a double row of pearls. + </p> + <p> + Octave took a stiletto from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you always carry this stiletto?” asked the young woman, in a + changed voice; “it frightens me to see you armed thus.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing,” said Gerfaut, who did not reply to her question, “I will + respect the hair which serves you as a crown. I know where I must cut it, + and, if my ambition is great, my hand shall be discreet.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim had no confidence in his moderation, and, fearing to + leave her beautiful hair to her lover’s mercy, she took the stiletto and + cut off a little lock which she drew through her fingers and then offered + to him, with a loving gesture that doubled the value of the gift. At this + moment, hunting-horns resounded in the distance. + </p> + <p> + “I must leave you now!” exclaimed Clemence, “I must. My dear love, let me + go now; say good-by to me.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned toward him and presented her forehead to receive this adieu. It + was her lips which met Octave’s, but this kiss was rapid and fleeting as a + flash of light. Withdrawing from the arms which would yet retain her, she + darted out of the grotto, and in a moment had disappeared in one of the + shady paths. + </p> + <p> + For some time, plunged in deep reflection, Gerfaut stood on the same spot; + but at last arousing himself from this dreamy languor, he climbed the rock + so as to reach the top of the cliff. After taking a few steps he stopped + with a frightened look, as if he had espied some venomous reptile in his + path. He could see, through the bushes which bordered the crest of the + plateau at the top of the ladder cut in the rock, Bergenheim, motionless, + and in the attitude of a man who is trying to conceal himself in order + that he may watch somebody. The Baron’s eyes not being turned in Gerfaut’s + direction, he could not tell whether he was the object of this espionage, + or whether the lay of the land allowed him to see Madame de Bergenheim, + who must be under the sycamores by this time. Uncertain as to what he + should do, he remained motionless, half crouched down upon the rock, + behind the ledge of which, thanks to his position, he could hide from the + Baron. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. THE REVELATION + </h2> + <p> + A few moments before the castle clock struck four, a man leaped across the + ditch which served as enclosure to the park. Lambernier, for it was he who + showed himself so prompt at keeping his promise, directed his steps + through the thickets toward the corner of the Corne woods which he had + designated to Marillac; but, after walking for some time, he was forced to + slacken his steps. The hunting-party were coming in his direction, and + Lambernier knew that to continue in the path he had first chosen would + take him directly among the hunters; and, in spite of his insolence, he + feared the Baron too much to wish to expose himself to the danger of + another chastisement. He therefore retraced his steps and took a + roundabout way through the thickets, whose paths were all familiar to him; + he descended to the banks of the river ready to ascend to the place + appointed for the rendezvous as soon as the hunting party had passed. + </p> + <p> + He had hardly reached the plateau covered with trees, which extended above + the rocks, when, as he entered a clearing which had been recently made, he + saw two men coming toward him who were walking very fast, and whom to meet + in this place caused him a very disagreeable sensation. The first man was + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil’s coachman, as large a fellow as ever crushed + the seats of landau or brougham with his rotundity. He was advancing with + hands in the pockets of his green jacket and his broad shoulders thrown + back, as if he had taken it upon himself to replace Atlas. His cap, placed + in military fashion upon his head, his scowling brows, and his bombastic + air, announced that he was upon the point of accomplishing some important + deed which greatly interested him. Leonard Rousselet, walking by his side, + moved his spider legs with equal activity, carefully holding up the skirts + of his long coat as if they were petticoats. + </p> + <p> + Lambernier, at sight of them, turned to enter the woods again, but he was + stopped in his retreat by a threatening shout. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, you vagabond!” exclaimed the coachman; “halt! If you take a trot, I + shall take a gallop.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want? I have no business with you,” replied the workman, in a + surly tone. + </p> + <p> + “But I have business with you,” replied the big domestic, placing himself + in front of him and balancing himself first on his toes then on his heels, + with a motion like the wooden rocking-horses children play with. “Come + here, Rousselet; are you wheezy or foundered?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not as good legs as your horses,” replied the old man, who reached + them at last, breathless, and took off his hat to wipe his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean, jumping out upon one from a corner in the woods like + two assassins?” asked Lambernier, foreseeing that this beginning might + lead to some scene in which he was threatened to be forced to play a not + very agreeable role. + </p> + <p> + “It means,” said the coachman: “first, that Rousselet has nothing to do + with it; I do not need anybody’s help to punish an insignificant fellow + like you; second, that you are going to receive your quietus in a trice.” + </p> + <p> + At these words he pushed his cap down over his ears and rolled up his + sleeves, in order to give freer action to his large, broad hands. + </p> + <p> + The three men were standing upon a plot of ground where charcoal had been + burned the year before. The ground was black and slippery, but being + rather level, it was a very favorable place for a duel with fists or any + other weapons. When Lambernier saw the lackey’s warlike preparations, he + placed his cap and coat upon an old stump and stationed himself in front + of his adversary. But, before the hostilities had begun, Rousselet + advanced, stretching his long arms out between them, and said, in a voice + whose solemnity seemed to be increased by the gravity of the occasion: + </p> + <p> + “I do not suppose that you both wish to kill each other; only uneducated + people conduct themselves in this vulgar manner; you ought to have a + friendly explanation, and see if the matter is not susceptible of + arrangement. That was the way such things were done when I was in the + twenty-fifth demi-brigade.” + </p> + <p> + “The explanation is,” said the coachman, in his gruff voice, “that here is + a low fellow who takes every opportunity to undervalue me and my horses, + and I have sworn to give him a good drubbing the first time I could lay my + hands upon him. So, Pere Rousselet, step aside. He will see if I am a + pickle; he will find out that the pickle is peppery!” + </p> + <p> + “If you made use of such a vulgar expression as that,” observed Rousselet, + turning to Lambernier, “you were at fault, and should beg his pardon as is + the custom among educated people.” + </p> + <p> + “It is false!” exclaimed Lambernier; “and besides, everybody calls the + Corandeuils that, on account of the color of their livery.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not say Sunday, at the ‘Femme-sans-Tete’, and in the presence of + Thiedot, that all the servants of the chateau were idlers and + good-for-nothings, and that if you met one of them who tried to annoy you, + you would level him with your plane?” + </p> + <p> + “If you used the word ‘level,’ it was very uncivil,” observed Rousselet. + </p> + <p> + “Thiedot had better keep in his own house,” growled the carpenter, + clenching his fists. + </p> + <p> + “It looks well for a tramp like you to insult gentlemen like us,” + continued the lackey, in an imposing tone. “And did you not say that when + I took Mademoiselle to mass I looked like a green toad upon the box,... + thus trying to dishonor my physique and my clothes? Did you not say that?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a joke about the color of your livery. They call the others measles + and lobsters.” + </p> + <p> + “Lobsters are lobsters,” replied the coachman, in an imperative tone; “if + that vexes them, they can take care of themselves. But I will not allow + any one to attack my honor or that of my beasts by calling them screws—and + that is what you did, you vagabond! And did you not say that I sent bags + of oats to Remiremont to be sold, and that, for a month, my team had + steadily been getting thin? Did you ever hear anything so scandalous, Pere + Rousselet? to dare to say that I endanger the lives of my horses? Did you + not say that, you rascal? And did you not say that Mademoiselle Marianne + and I had little private feasts in her room, and that was why I could not + eat more at the table? Here is Rousselet, who has been a doctor and knows + that I am on a diet on account of my weak stomach.” At these words, the + servant, carried away by his anger, gave his stomach a blow with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “Lambernier,” said Rousselet, turning up his lips with a look of contempt, + “I must admit that, for a man well brought up, you have made most + disgusting remarks.” + </p> + <p> + “To say that I eat the horses’ oats!” roared the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have said that you drank them,” replied Lambernier, with his + usual sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Rousselet, out of the way!” exclaimed the burly lackey at this new + insult; the old peasant not moving as quickly as he desired, he seized him + by the arm and sent him whirling ten steps away. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, a new person completed the scene, joining in it, if not as + actor at least as interested spectator. If the two champions had suspected + his presence they would have probably postponed their fight until a more + opportune moment, for this spectator was no other than the Baron himself. + As he saw from a distance the trio gesticulating in a very animated + manner, he judged that a disorderly scene was in preparation, and as he + had wished for a long time to put an end to the quarrelsome ways of the + chateau servants, he was not sorry to catch them in the very act, so as to + make an example of them. At first, he stooped and concealed himself in the + thickets, ready to appear for the denouement. + </p> + <p> + As Lambernier saw the giant’s fist coming down upon him, he darted to one + side and the blow only struck the air, making the coachman stumble from + the force of his impetuosity. Lambernier profited by this position to + gather all his strength, and threw himself upon his adversary, whom he + seized by the flank and gave such a severe blow as to bring him down upon + his knees. He then gave him a dozen more blows upon the head, and + succeeded in overthrowing him completely. + </p> + <p> + If the coachman had not had a cranium as hard as iron, he probably could + not have received such a storm of fisticuffs without giving up the ghost. + Fortunately for him, he had one of those excellent Breton heads that break + the sticks which beat them. Save for a certain giddiness, he came out of + the scramble safe and sound. Far from losing his presence of mind by the + disadvantageous position in which he found himself, he supported himself + upon the ground with his left hand, and, passing his other arm behind him, + he wound it around the workman’s legs, who thus found himself reaped down, + so to speak, and a moment later was lying on his back in front of his + adversary. The latter, holding him fast with his strong hands, placed a + knee, as large as a plate, upon his chest and then pulled off the cap that + his enemy had pushed down over his eyes, and proceeded to administer full + justice to him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you thought you’d attack me treacherously, did you?” said he, with a + derisive chuckle as if to slacken the speed of his horses. “You know short + reckonings make good friends. Oh! what a fine thrashing you are going to + receive, my friend! Take care! if you try to bite my hand, I’ll choke you + with my two fingers, do you hear! Now, then, take this for the green toad; + this, for my horses’ sake; this, for Mademoiselle Marianne!” + </p> + <p> + He followed each “this” with a heavy blow from his fist. At the third blow + the blood poured out of the mouth of the carpenter, who writhed under the + pressure of his adversary’s knee like a buffalo stifled by a + boa-constrictor; he succeeded at last in freeing one hand, which he thrust + into his trousers’ pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you rascal! I am killed!” howled the coachman, giving a bound + backward. Lambernier, profiting by his freedom, jumped upon his feet, and, + without troubling himself as to his adversary, who had fallen on his knees + and was pressing his hand to his left thigh; he picked up his cap and vest + and started off through the clearing. Rousselet, who until then had + prudently kept aside, tried to stop the workman, at a cry from his + companion, but the scoundrel brandished his iron compass before his eyes + with such an ugly look that the peasant promptly left the way open for + him. + </p> + <p> + At this tragic and unexpected denouement, Bergenheim, who was getting + ready to make his appearance from behind the trees and to interpose his + authority, started in full pursuit of the would-be murderer. From the + direction he took, he judged that he would try to reach the river by + passing over the rock. He walked in this direction, with his gun over his + shoulder, until he reached the foot of the steps which descended into the + grotto. Christian crouched behind some bushes to wait for Lambernier, who + must pass this way, and it was at this moment that Gerfaut, who was forty + feet below him, saw him without suspecting the reason for his attitude. + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim soon found out that he had calculated correctly when he heard a + sound like that made by a wild boar when he rushes through the thickets + and breaks the small branches in his path, as if they were no more than + blades of grass. Soon Lambernier appeared with a haggard, wild look and a + face bleeding from the blows he had received. He stopped for a moment to + catch his breath and to wipe off his compass with a handful of grass; he + then staunched the blood streaming from his nose and mouth, and after + putting on his coat started rapidly in the direction of the river. + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” exclaimed the Baron, suddenly, rising before him and barring his + passage. + </p> + <p> + The workman jumped back in terror; then he drew out his compass a second + time and made a movement as if to throw himself upon this new adversary, + out of sheer desperation. Christian, at this threatening pantomime, raised + his gun to his cheek with as much coolness and precision as he would have + shown at firing into a body of soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “Down with your weapon!” he exclaimed, in his commanding voice, “or I will + shoot you down like a rabbit.” + </p> + <p> + The carpenter uttered a hoarse cry as he saw the muzzle of the gun within + an inch of his head, ready to blow his brains out. Feeling assured that + there was no escape for him, he closed his compass and threw it with an + angry gesture at the Baron’s feet. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said the latter, “you will walk straight ahead of me as far as the + chateau, and if you turn one step to the right or left, I will send the + contents of my gun into you. So right about march!” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, he stooped, without losing sight of the workman, + and picked up the compass, which he put in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Baron, it was the coachman who attacked me first; I had to + defend myself,” stammered Lambernier. + </p> + <p> + “All right, we will see about that later. March on!” + </p> + <p> + “You will deliver me up to the police—I am a ruined man!” + </p> + <p> + “That will make one rascal the less,” exclaimed Christian, repelling with + disgust the workman, who had thrown himself on his knees before him. + </p> + <p> + “I have three children, Monsieur, three children,” he repeated, in a + supplicating tone. + </p> + <p> + “Will you march!” replied Bergenheim imperiously, as he made a gesture + with his gun as if to shoot him. + </p> + <p> + Lambernier arose suddenly, and the expression of terror upon his + countenance gave place to one of resolution mingled with hatred and scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he exclaimed, “let us go on! but remember what I tell you; if + you have me arrested, you will be the first to repent of it, Baron though + you are. If I appear before a judge, I will tell something that you would + pay a good price for.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim looked fixedly at Lambernier. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by such insolence?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you what I mean, if you will promise to let me go; if you + give me into the hands of the police, I repeat it, you will repent not + having listened to me to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “This is some idle yarn, made to gain time; no matter, speak; I will + listen.” + </p> + <p> + The workman darted a defiant glance at Christian. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your word of honor to let me go afterward.” + </p> + <p> + “If I do not do so, are you not at liberty to repeat your story?” replied + the Baron, who, in spite of his curiosity, would not give his word to a + scoundrel whose only aim probably was to escape justice. + </p> + <p> + This observation impressed Lambernier, who, after a moment’s reflection, + assumed a strange attitude of cool assurance, considering the position in + which he found himself. Not a sound was to be heard; even the barking of + the dogs in the distance had ceased. The deepest silence surrounded them; + even Gerfaut, in the place where he was concealed, could no longer see + them, now that Bergenheim had left the edge of the cliff; from time to + time their voices reached him, but he could not distinguish the meaning of + their words. + </p> + <p> + Leaning with one hand upon his gun, Christian waited for the carpenter to + begin his story, gazing at him with his clear, piercing eyes. Lambernier + bore this glance without flinching, returning it in his insolent way. + </p> + <p> + “You know, Monsieur, that when the alterations were made in Madame’s + apartment, I had charge of the carving for her chamber. When I took away + the old woodwork, I saw that the wall between the windows was constructed + out of square, and I asked Madame if she wished that the panel should be + fastened like the other or if she preferred it to open so that it would + make a closet. She said to have it open by means of a secret spring. So I + made the panel with concealed hinges and a little button hidden in the + lower part of the woodwork; it only needs to be pressed, after turning it + to the right, and the woodwork will open like a door.” + </p> + <p> + Christian had now become extremely attentive. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur will remember that he was in Nancy at the time, and that + Madame’s chamber was completed during his absence. As I was the only one + who worked in this room, the other workmen not being capable of carving + the wood as Madame wished, I was the only person who knew that the panel + was not nailed down the length of the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked the Baron, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Lambernier replied, in a careless tone, “if, on account of the + blow which I gave the coachman, it is necessary for me to appear in court, + I shall be obliged to tell, in order to revenge myself, what I saw in that + closet not more than a month ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Finish your story,” exclaimed Bergenheim, as he clenched the handle of + his gun. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Justine took me into this room in order to hang some + curtains; as I needed some nails, she went out to get them. While I was + examining the woodwork, which I had not seen since it had been put in + place, I saw that the oak had warped in one place because it was not dry + enough when it was used. I wished to see if the same thing had happened + between the windows, and if the panel could open. I pressed the spring, + and when the door opened I saw a small package of letters upon the little + shelf; it seemed very singular to me that Madame should choose this place + to keep her letters, and the thought came to me that she wished to conceal + them from Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim gave the workman a withering glance, and made a sign for him to + continue. + </p> + <p> + “They were already talking about discharging me from the chateau’s employ; + I do not know how it happened, but the thought entered my head that + perhaps one of these letters would be of use to me, and I took the first + one in the package; I had only time to close the panel when Mademoiselle + Justine returned.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well! what is there in common between these letters and the criminal + court that awaits you?” asked Christian, in an altered voice, although he + tried to appear indifferent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! nothing at all,” replied the carpenter, with an air of indifference; + “but I thought that you would not like people to know that Madame had a + lover.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim shivered as if he were taken with a chill, and his gun dropped + from his hand to the ground. + </p> + <p> + As quick as thought Lambernier stooped over to seize the gun, but he did + not have time to carry out his intention, for he was seized by the throat + and half choked by an iron hand. + </p> + <p> + “That letter! that letter!” said Christian to him, in a low, trembling + voice, and he put his face down close to the carpenter’s, as if he feared + that a breath of wind might carry away his words and repeat them. + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone first, I can not breathe—” stammered the workman, + whose face, was becoming purple and his eyes starting out of his head, as + if his adversary’s fingers had been a rope. + </p> + <p> + The latter granted the prayer by loosening his hold of the carpenter’s + neck and seizing him by his vest in such a way as to take away all chance + of escape while leaving him free to speak. + </p> + <p> + “This letter!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Frightened by the shaking he had just received, and not in a condition to + reflect with his usual prudence, Lambernier mechanically obeyed this + order; he hunted in his pockets for some time, and at last took a + carefully folded paper from his vest-pocket, saying with a stunned air: + </p> + <p> + “Here it is. It is worth ten louis.” + </p> + <p> + Christian seized the paper and opened it with his teeth, for he could not + use his hands without releasing his prisoner. It was, like all notes of + this kind, without address, seal, or signature. It did not differ from + most of its kind save in the natural beauty of its style and its simple + eloquence. Ardent protestations, sweet and loving complaints, those + precious words that one bestows only upon the woman he loves and which + betray a love that has yet much to desire but as much to hope. The + handwriting was entirely unknown to Bergenheim, but Clemence’s name, which + was repeated several times, did not permit him to doubt for a moment that + this note was written to his wife. When he had finished reading, he put it + in his pocket with apparent serenity, and then looked at Lambernier, who, + during this time, had remained motionless under the hand that detained + him. + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, Lambernier,” said he to him; “it is one of my letters + before my marriage.” And he tried to force himself to smile; but the + muscles of his lips refused to act this falsehood, and drops of cold + perspiration stood upon his forehead and at the roots of his hair. + </p> + <p> + The carpenter had watched the change in the Baron’s countenance as he read + the letter. He was persuaded that he could turn the capital importance of + his revelations into profit for himself; he believed that the time had + come when he might gain advantage by showing that he understood perfectly + well the value of the secret he had just imparted. So he replied with a + glance of intelligence: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur’s handwriting must have changed greatly, then; I have some of + his orders which do not resemble this any more than a glass of water does + a glass of wine.” + </p> + <p> + Christian tried to find a response but failed. His eyebrows contracted in + a manner that betokened a coming storm, but Lambernier was not disturbed + by this symptom; he continued in a more and more assured voice: + </p> + <p> + “When I said that this letter was worth ten louis, I meant that it was + worth that much to a mere stranger, and I am very sure I should not have + to go very far to find one; but Monsieur le Baron is too sensible not to + know the value of this secret. I do not wish to set a price upon it, but + since I am obliged to go away on account of this coachman, and have no + money—” + </p> + <p> + He did not have time to finish; Bergenheim seized him in the middle of the + body and made him describe a horizontal half-circle without touching the + ground, then threw him upon his knees on the edge of the path which + descended almost perpendicularly alongside the rocks. Lambernier suddenly + saw his haggard face reflected in the river fifty feet below. At this + sight, and feeling a powerful knee between his shoulders which bent him + over the abyss, as if to make him appreciate its dangers, the workman + uttered a terrified cry; his hands clutched wildly at the tufts of grass + and roots of plants which grew here and there on the sides of the rocks, + and he struggled with all his might to throw himself back upon the ground. + But it was in vain for him to struggle against the superior strength of + his adversary, and his attempts only aggravated the danger of his + position. After two or three powerless attempts, he found himself lying + upon his stomach with half his body hanging over the precipice, having + nothing to prevent him from falling over but Bergenheim’s hand, which held + him by the collar and at the same time hindered him from rising. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever said one word about this?” asked the Baron, as he took hold + of the trunk of a tree to steady himself upon this dangerous ground that + he had chosen as the field of discussion. + </p> + <p> + “To nobody!—ah!—how my head swims!” replied the carpenter, + closing his eyes in terror, for the blood rushing to his brain made him + dizzy, and it seemed to him that the river was slowly reaching him. + </p> + <p> + “You see that if I make one gesture, you are a dead man,” replied the + Baron, leaning upon him harder yet. + </p> + <p> + “Give me up to the police; I will say nothing about the letters; as sure + as there is a God, I will say nothing. But do not let me fall—hold + me tight—do not let go of me—I am slipping—oh! holy + mother of God!” + </p> + <p> + Christian taking hold of the tree near him, leaned over and raised + Lambernier up, for he really was incapable of doing so himself; fright and + the sight of the water had given him vertigo. When he was upon his legs + again, he reeled like a drunken man and his feet nearly gave way beneath + him. The Baron looked at him a moment in silence, but at last he said: + </p> + <p> + “Go away, leave the country at once; you have time to fly before there + will be any pursuit. But remember that if I ever hear one word of what has + passed between us from your lips, I shall know how to find you and you + will die by my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear by the Holy Virgin and by all the saints—” stammered + Lambernier, who had suddenly become a very fervent Catholic. + </p> + <p> + Christian pointed with his finger to the stone steps beneath them. + </p> + <p> + “There is your road; pass over the rock, through the woods, and reach + Alsace. If you conduct yourself well, I will assure your living. But + remember; one single indiscreet word, and you are a dead man.” + </p> + <p> + At these words he pushed him into the path with one of those quick + movements which very powerful men can not always calculate the effect of. + Lambernier, whose strength was almost exhausted by the struggles he had + undergone, had not vigor enough left to stand, and he lost his balance at + this violent as well as unexpected push. He stumbled over the first step, + reeled as he tried to regain his footing, and fell head first down the + almost vertical declivity. A ledge of the cliff, against which he first + struck, threw him upon the loose rocks. He slowly glided downward, + uttering lamentable cries; he clutched, for a moment, a little bush which + had grown in a crevice of the rocks but he did not have strength enough to + hold on to it, his arm having been broken in three places by his fall. He + let go of it suddenly, and dropped farther and farther down uttering a + last terrible shriek of despair; he rolled over twice again-and then fell + into the torrent below, that swallowed him up like a mass already deprived + of life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 4. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. MARILLAC TELLS A STORY + </h2> + <p> + Guests were seated that evening around the oval table in the dining-room + of the castle of Bergenheim. According to custom, the ladies were not + present at this repast. This was a custom which had been adopted by the + Baroness for the suppers which were given by her husband at the close of + his hunting parties; she dispensed with appearing at table on those days; + perhaps she was too fastidious to preside at these lengthy seances of + which the ruses of the hare, the death of the stag, and the feats of the + hounds, formed the principal topics of conversation. It is probable that + this conduct was duly appreciated by those who participated in those + rather boisterous repasts, and that they felt a certain gratitude, in + spite of the regrets they manifested on account of Madame’s absence. + </p> + <p> + Among the guests was Marillac, whose sparkling eye, and cheeks even more + rosy than usual, made him conspicuous. Seated between a fat notary and + another boon companion, who were almost as drunk as he Marillac emptied + glass after glass, red wine after the white, the white after the red, with + noisy laughter, and jests of all kinds by way of accompaniment. His head + became every moment more and more excited by the libations destined to + refresh his throat, and his neighbors, without his perceiving the + conspiracy, thought it would be good fun to put a Parisian dandy under the + table. However, he was not the only one who was gliding over the slippery + precipice that leads to the attractive abyss of drunkenness. The majority + of the guests shared his imprudent abandon and progressive exaltation. A + bacchic emulation reigned, which threatened to end in scenes bordering + upon a debauch. + </p> + <p> + Among these highly colored cheeks, under which the wine seemed to + circulate with the blood, these eyes shining with a dull, fictitious + light, all this disorderly pantomime so contrary to the quiet habit of the + gesticulators, two faces contrasted strangely with the careless mirth of + the others. The Baron fulfilled his duties as master of the house with a + sort of nervous excitement which might pass for genuine merriment in the + eyes of those of his guests who were in no condition to study his + countenance; but a quiet observer would soon have discerned that these + violent efforts at good-humor and bantering concealed some terrible + suffering. From time to time, in the midst of a sentence or a laugh, he + would suddenly stop, the muscles of his face would twitch as if the spring + which set them in motion had broken; his expression became sombre and + savage; he sank back in his chair motionless, a stranger to all that + surrounded him, and gave himself up to some mysterious thought against + which resistance seemed powerless. Suddenly he appeared to wake from some + perplexing dream, and by another powerful effort aroused himself and + joined in the conversation with sharp, cutting speeches; he encouraged the + noisy humor of his guests, inciting them to drunkenness by setting the + example himself; then the same mysterious thought would cross his face + anew, and he would fall back into the tortures of a revery which must have + been horrible, to judge by the expression of his face. + </p> + <p> + Among his guests, one only, who was seated almost opposite Bergenheim, + seemed to be in the secret of his thoughts and to study the symptoms with + deep attention. Gerfaut, for it was he, showed an interest in this + examination which reacted on his own countenance, for he was paler than + ever. + </p> + <p> + “When I saw that the hare was reaching the upper road,” said one of the + guests, a handsome old man about sixty years of age, with gray hair and + rosy cheeks, “I ran toward the new clearing to wait for its return. I felt + perfectly sure, notary, that he would pass through your hands safe and + sound.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, notary,” said Marillac, from the other end of the table, “defend + yourself; one, two, three, ready!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Camier,” replied the hunter whose skill had been questioned, + “I do not pretend to have your skill. I never have shot as large game as + you did at your last hunt.” + </p> + <p> + This reply was an allusion to a little misadventure which had happened to + the first speaker, who, on account of nearsightedness, had shot a cow, + taking it for a buck. The laugh, which had been at the notary’s expense + first, now turned against his adversary. + </p> + <p> + “How many pairs of boots did you get out of your game?” asked one. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, let us return to our conversation,” said a young man, whose + precise face aspired to an austere and imposing air. “Up to this time, we + can form only very vague conjectures as to the road that Lambernier took + to escape. This, allow me to say, is more important than the notary’s hare + or Monsieur de Carrier’s cow.” + </p> + <p> + At these words, Bergenheim, who had taken no part in the conversation, + straightened up in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “A glass of Sauterne,” said he, suddenly, to one of his neighbors. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut looked at him stealthily for a moment, and then lowered his eyes, + as if he feared his glance might be noticed. + </p> + <p> + “The public prosecutor scents a culprit, and there is no fear he will drop + the trail,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + “The case will doubtless come up at the next session of the Assizes.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Carrier put his glass, which was half filled, upon the table, + angrily exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “The devil take the jury! I am called to the next session, and I will + wager my head that I shall be drawn. How agreeable that will be! To leave + my home and business in the middle of winter and spend a fortnight with a + lot of fellows whom I do not know from Adam! That is one of the agreeable + things supplied by constitutional government. The French have to be judged + by their peers! Of what use is it to pay for judges if we, land-owners, + are obliged to do their work. The old parliaments, against which so much + has been said, were a thousand times better than all this bedlam let loose + in a court of assizes.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac, who during this speech was amusing himself with singing his low + “G” while peeling an apple, interrupted his song, to the great relief of a + hound who lay at his feet, and whose nerves seemed to be singularly + affected by the strain. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Carrier,” said he, “you are a large landowner, an eligible + citizen and a Carlist; you fast on Fridays, go to mass in your parish, and + occasionally kill cows for bucks; I esteem and respect you; but allow me + to say that you have just uttered an old, antediluvian platitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the public prosecutor, punctuating each word with his + first finger, “I have the greatest respect for the old parliaments, those + worthy models of our modern magistracy, those incorruptible defenders of + national freedom, but my veneration is none the less great for the + institutions emanating from our wise constitution, and it prevents me from + adopting an exclusive opinion. However, without pretending to proclaim in + too absolute a manner the superiority of the old system over the new, I am + in a certain sense of Monsieur de Carrier’s opinion. In my position, I am + better able than any other person to study the advantages and + disadvantages of a jury, and I am forced to admit that if the advantages + are real, the disadvantages are none the less indisputable. One of the + great vices of juries consists in the habit that a great number of its + members have of calling for material proofs in order to form their + opinions. They must almost see the wounds of the victim before agreeing on + a verdict. As to Lambernier, I hope that they will not contest the + existence of the main evidence: the victim’s still bleeding thigh.” + </p> + <p> + “Tra-de-ri-di-ra,” exclaimed the artist, striking alternately with his + knife a glass and a bottle, as if he were playing a triangle. “I must say + that you choose madly gay subjects for conversation. We are truly a joyous + crowd; look at Bergenheim opposite us; he looks like Macbeth in the + presence of Banquo’s ghost; here is my friend Gerfaut drinking water with + a profoundly solemn air. Good gracious, gentlemen! enough of this foolish + talk! Let them cut this Lambernier’s throat and put an end to the subject! + The theatre for dramatic music, the church for sacred! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Le vin, le jeu; les belles, + Voila mes seuls amours.” + </pre> + <p> + A general protestation rose from the whole table at this verse, which was + roared out in a lugubrious voice. Noisy shouts, rapping of knives upon + tumblers and bottles, and exclamations of all kinds called the orator to + order. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Marillac,” exclaimed the public prosecutor, in a joking tone, + “it seems to me that you have wandered from the subject.” + </p> + <p> + The artist looked at him with an astonished air. + </p> + <p> + “Had I anything in particular to say to you?” he asked; “if so, I will + sustain my point. Only do me the kindness to tell me what it was about.” + </p> + <p> + “It was on the subject of this man Lambernier,” whispered the notary to + him, as he poured out a glass of wine. “Courage! you improvise better than + Berryer! If you exert yourself, the public prosecutor will be beaten in no + time.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac thanked his neighbor with a smile and a nod of the head, which + signified: “Trust me.” He then emptied his glass with the recklessness + that had characterized his drinking for some time, but, strangely enough, + the libation, instead of putting the finishing stroke to his drunkenness, + gave his mind, for the time being, a sort of lucidity. + </p> + <p> + “The accusation,” he continued, with the coolness of an old lawyer, “rests + upon two grounds: first, the presence without cause of the accused upon + the spot where the crime was committed; second, the nature of the weapon + used.—Two simple but peremptory replies will make the scaffold which + has been erected upon this double supposition fall to the ground. First, + Lambernier had a rendezvous at this place, and at the exact hour when this + crime with which he is accused took place; this will be proved by a + witness, and will be established by evidence in a most indisputable + manner. His presence will thus be explained without its being interpreted + in any way against him. Second, the public prosecutor has admitted that + the carrying of a weapon which Lambernier may have been in the habit of + using in his regular trade could not be used as an argument against him, + and for that same reason could not be used as an argument in favor of + premeditation; now, this is precisely the case in question. This weapon + was neither a sword, bayonet, nor stiletto, nothing that the fertile + imagination of the public prosecutor could imagine; it was a simple tool + used by the accused in his profession, the presence of which in his pocket + is as easily understood as that of a snuff-box in the pocket of my + neighbor, the notary, who takes twenty pinches of snuff a minute. + Gentlemen, this weapon was a pair of carpenter’s compasses.” + </p> + <p> + “A compass!” exclaimed several voices at once. + </p> + <p> + “A compass!” exclaimed the Baron, gazing fixedly at the artist. Then he + carried his hand to his pocket, and suddenly withdrew it, as he felt the + workman’s compass there, where it had been ever since the scene upon the + rocks. + </p> + <p> + “An iron compass,” repeated the artist, “about ten inches long, more or + less, the legs of it being closed.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you explain yourself, Monsieur?” excitedly exclaimed the public + prosecutor, “for it really seems as if you had witnessed the crime. In + that case you will be called out as a witness for the defence. Justice is + impartial, gentlemen. Justice has not two pairs of scales.” + </p> + <p> + “To the devil with justice! You must have come from Timbuctoo to use such + old-fashioned metaphors.” + </p> + <p> + “Make your deposition, witness; I require you to make your deposition,” + said the magistrate, whose increasing drunkenness appeared as dignified + and solemn as the artist was noisy. + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to state; I saw nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Here the Baron drew a long breath, as if these words were a relief. + </p> + <p> + “But I saw something!” said Gerfaut to himself, as he gazed at the Baron’s + face, upon which anxiety was depicted. + </p> + <p> + “I reason by hypothesis and supposition,” continued the artist. “I had a + little altercation with Lambernier a few days ago, and, but for my good + poniard, he would have put an end to me as he did to this fellow to-day.” + </p> + <p> + He then related his meeting with Lambernier, but the consideration due + Mademoiselle Gobillot’s honor imposed numberless circumlocutions and + concealments which ended by making his story rather unintelligible to his + auditors, and in the midst of it his head became so muddled that he was + completely put out. + </p> + <p> + “Basta!” he exclaimed, in conclusion, as he dropped heavily into his + chair. “Not another word for the ‘whole empire. Give me something to + drink! Notary, you are the only man here who has any regard for me. One + thing is certain about this matter—I am in ten louis by this + rascal’s adventure.” + </p> + <p> + These words struck the Baron forcibly, as they brought to his mind what + the carpenter had said to him when he gave him the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Ten louis!” said he, suddenly, looking at Marillac as if he wished to + look into his very heart. + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred francs, if you like it better. A genuine bargain. But we have + talked enough, ‘mio caro’; you deceive yourselves if you think you are + going to make me blab. No, indeed! I am not the one to allow myself to + become entangled. I am now as mute and silent as the grave.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim insisted no longer, but, leaning against the back of his chair, + he let his head fall upon his breast. He remained for some time buried in + thought and vainly trying to connect the obscure words he had just heard + with Lambernier’s incomplete revelations. With the exception of Gerfaut, + who did not lose one of his host’s movements, the guests, more or less + absorbed by their own sensations, paid no attention to the strange + attitude of the master of the house, or, like Monsieur de Camier, + attributed it to the influence of wine. The conversation continued its + noisy course, interrupted every few moments by the startling vagaries of + some guest more animatedly excited than the rest, for, at the end of a + repast where sobriety has not reigned, each one is disposed to impose upon + others the despotism of his own intoxication, and the idle talk of his + peculiar hallucinations. Marillac bore away the prize among the talking + contingent, thanks to the vigor of his lungs and the originality of his + words, which sometimes forced the attention of his adversaries. Finally he + remained master of the field, and flashed volleys of his drunken eloquence + to the right and left. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pity,” he exclaimed, in the midst of his triumph, as he glanced + disdainfully up and down the table, “it really is a pity, gentlemen, to + listen to your conversation. One could imagine nothing more + commonplace-prosaic or bourgeois. Would it not please you to indulge in a + discussion of a little higher order? + </p> + <p> + “Let us join hands, and talk of poetry and art. I am thirsting for an + artistic conversation; I am thirsting for wit and intelligence.” + </p> + <p> + “You must drink if you are thirsty,” said the notary, filling his glass to + the brim. + </p> + <p> + The artist emptied it at one draught, and continued in a languishing voice + as he gazed with a loving look at his fat neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “I will begin our artistic conversation: ‘Knowest thou the land where the + orange-flower blooms?’” + </p> + <p> + “It is warmer than ours,” replied the notary, who was not familiar with + Mignon’s song; and, beginning to laugh maliciously, he gave a wink at his + neighbors as if to say: + </p> + <p> + “I have settled him now.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac leaned toward him with the meekness of a lamb that presents his + head to the butcher, and sympathetically pressed his hands. + </p> + <p> + “O poet!” he continued, “do you not feel, as I do at the twilight hour and + in the eventide, a vague desire for a sunny, perfumed, southern life? Will + you not bid adieu to this sterile country and sail away to a land where + the blue sky is reflected in the blue sea? Venice! the Rialto, the Bridge + of Sighs, Saint Mark! Rome! the Coliseum and Saint Peter—But I know + Italy by heart; let us go instead to Constantinople. I am thirsting for + sultanas and houris; I am thirsting—” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious! why do you not drink if you are thirsty?” + </p> + <p> + “Gladly. I never say no to that. I scorn love in a nightcap; I adore + danger. Danger is life to me. + </p> + <p> + “I dote on silken ladders as long as Jacob’s, on citadels worth scaling; + on moonlight evenings, bearded husbands, and all that sort of thing—I + would love a bed composed of five hundred poniards; you understand me, + poet—” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, do not make him drink any more,” said Gerfaut to the + notary. + </p> + <p> + “You are right not to wish to drink any more, Octave, I was about to + advise you not to. You have already drunk to excess to-day, and I am + afraid that it will make you ill; your health is so weak—you are not + a strong man like me. Fancy, gentlemen, Monsieur le Vicomte de Gerfaut, a + native of Gascony, a roue by profession, a star of the first magnitude in + literature, is afflicted by nature with a stomach which has nothing in + common with that of an ostrich; he has need to use the greatest care. So + we have him drink seltzer-water principally, and feed him on the white + meat of the chicken. Besides, we keep this precious phenomenon rolled up + between two wool blankets and over a kettle of boiling water. He is a + great poet; I myself am a very great poet.” + </p> + <p> + “And I also, I hope,” said the notary. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, formerly there were poets who wrote only in verse; nowadays + they revel in prose. There are some even who are neither prose nor verse + writers, who have never confided their secret to anybody, and who + selfishly keep their poetry to themselves. It is a very simple thing to be + a poet, provided you feel the indescribable intoxication of the soul, and + understand the inexpressible afflatus that bubbles over in your large + brain, and your noble heart throbs under your left breast—” + </p> + <p> + “He is as drunk as a fool,” said M. de Camier, loud enough for him to + hear. + </p> + <p> + “Old man,” said he, “you are the one who is drunk. Besides the word drunk + is not civil; if you had said intoxicated I should not have objected.” + </p> + <p> + Loud shouts of laughter burst forth from the party. He threw a threatening + glance around him, as if he were seeking some one upon whom to vent his + anger, and, placing his hand upon his hip, assumed the pose of a bully. + </p> + <p> + “Softly, my good fellows!” said he, “if any of you pretend that I am + drunk, I declare to him that he lies, and I call him a misanthrope, a + vagabond, an academician!” he concluded, with a loud burst of laughter; + for he thought that the jesters would be crushed by this last heavy + weapon. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! your friend is hilariously drunk,” said the notary to Gerfaut; + “while here is Bergenheim, who has not taken very much wine, and yet looks + as if he were assisting at a funeral. I thought he was more substantial + than this.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac’s voice burst out more loudly than ever, and Octave’s reply was + not heard. + </p> + <p> + “It is simply astounding. They are all as drunk as fools, and yet they + pretend that it is I who am drunk. Very well! I defy you all; who among + you wishes to argue with me? Will you discuss art, literature, politics, + medicine, music, philosophy, archeology, jurisprudence, magnetism—” + </p> + <p> + “Jurisprudence!” exclaimed the thick voice of the public prosecutor, who + was aroused from his stupor by this magic word; “let us talk + jurisprudence.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like,” said Marillac, without stopping at this interruption, + “that I should improvise a discourse upon the death penalty or upon + temperance? Would you like me to tell you a story?” + </p> + <p> + “A story, yes, a story!” they all exclaimed in unison. + </p> + <p> + “Speak out, then; order what story you like; it will cost you nothing,” + replied the artist, rubbing his hands with a radiant air. “Would you like + a tale from the Middle Ages? a fairy, an eastern, a comical, or a private + story? I warn you that the latter style is less old-fashioned than the + others.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us have it, then, by all means,” said all the drunken voices. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Now would you like it to be laid in Spain, Arabia, or France?” + </p> + <p> + “France!” exclaimed the prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “I am French, you are French, he is French. You shall have a French + story.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac leaned his forehead upon his hands, and his elbows upon the + table, as if to gather his scattered ideas. After a few moments’ + reflection, he raised his head and looked first at Gerfaut, then at + Bergenheim, with a peculiar smile. + </p> + <p> + “It would be very original,” said he, in a low voice as if replying to his + own thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “The story!” exclaimed one of the party, more impatient than the rest. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is,” replied the artist. “You all know, gentlemen, how difficult + it always is to choose a title. In order not to make you wait, I have + chosen one which is already well known. My story is to be called ‘The + husband, the wife, and the lover.’ We are not all single men here, and a + wise proverb says that one must never speak—” + </p> + <p> + In spite of his muddled brain, the artist did not finish his quotation. A + remnant of common-sense made him realize that he was treading upon + dangerous ground and was upon the point of committing an unpardonable + indiscretion. Fortunately, the Baron had paid no attention to his words; + but Gerfaut was frightened at his friend’s jabbering, and threw him a + glance of the most threatening advice to be prudent. Marillac vaguely + understood his mistake, and was half intimidated by this glance; he leaned + before the notary and said to him, in a voice which he tried to make + confidential, but which could be heard from one end of the table to the + other: + </p> + <p> + “Be calm, Octave, I will tell it in obscure words and in such a way that + he will not see anything in it. It is a scene for a drama that I have in + my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “You will make some grotesque blunder, if you go on drinking and talking,” + replied Gerfaut, in an anxious voice. “Hold your tongue, or else come away + from the table with me.” + </p> + <p> + “When I tell you that I will use obscure words,” replied the artist; “what + do you take me for? I swear to you that I will gloss it over in such a way + that nobody will suspect anything.” + </p> + <p> + “The story! the story!” exclaimed several, who were amused by the + incoherent chattering of the artist. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is,” said the latter, sitting upright in his char, and paying no + heed to his friend’s warnings. “The scene takes place in a little court in + Germany—Eh!” said he, looking at Gerfaut and maliciously winking his + eye—“do you not think that is glossed over?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in a German court, you said it was to be a French story,” said the + public prosecutor, disposed to play the critic toward the orator who had + reduced him to silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a French story, but the scene is laid in Germany,” he + replied, coolly. “Do you desire to teach me my profession? Understand that + nothing is more elastic than a German court; the story-teller can + introduce there whoever he likes; I may bring in the Shah of Persia and + the Emperor of China if I care to. However, if you prefer the court of + Italy, it is the same thing to me.” + </p> + <p> + This conciliating proposal remained without response. Marillac continued + raising his eyes in such a way that nothing but the whites could be seen, + and as if he were searching for his words in the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “The Princess Borinski was walking slowly in the mysterious alley on the + borders of the foaming torrent—” + </p> + <p> + “Borinski! she is a Pole, then?” interrupted M. de Camier. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! go to the devil, old man! Do not interrupt me,” exclaimed the artist, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “That is right. Silence now.” + </p> + <p> + “You have the floor,” said several voices at once. + </p> + <p> + “—She was pale, and she heaved convulsive sighs and wrung her soft, + warm hands, and a white pearl rolled from her dark lashes, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you begin all your phrases with ‘and?’” asked the public + prosecutor, with the captiousness of an inexorable critic. + </p> + <p> + “Because it is biblical and unaffected. Now let me alone,” replied + Marillac, with superb disdain. “You are a police-officer; I am an artist; + what is there in common between you and me? I will continue: And he saw + this pensive, weeping woman pass in the distance, and he said to the + Prince: ‘Borinski, a bit of root in which my foot caught has hurt my limb, + will you suffer me to return to the palace? And the Prince Borinski said + to him, ‘Shall my men carry you in a palanquin?’ and the cunning Octave + replied—” + </p> + <p> + “Your story has not even common-sense and you are a terrible bore,” + interrupted Gerfaut brusquely. “Gentlemen, are we going to sit at the + table all night?” + </p> + <p> + He arose, but nobody followed his example. Bergenheim, who for the last + few minutes had lent an attentive ear to the artist’s story, gazed + alternately at the two friends with an observing eye. + </p> + <p> + “Let him talk,” said the young magistrate, with an ironical smile. “I like + the palanquin in the court of Germany. That is probably what novelists + call local color. O Racine, poor, deserted Racine!” + </p> + <p> + Marillac was not intimidated this time by Gerfaut’s withering glance, but, + with the obstinacy of drunkenness, continued in a more or less stammering + voice: + </p> + <p> + “I swore that I would gloss it over; you annoy me. I committed an error, + gentlemen, in calling the lover in this story Octave. It is as clear as + day that his name is Boleslas, Boleslas Matalowski. There is no more + connection between him and my friend Octave than there is between my other + friend Bergenheim and the prince Kolinski—Woginski—what the + devil has become of my Prince’s name? A good reward to whoever will tell + me his name!” + </p> + <p> + “It is wrong to take advantage of his condition and make him talk any + more,” said Gerfaut. “I beg of you, Marillac, hold your tongue and come + with me,” said he, lowering his voice as he leaned toward the headstrong + story-teller and took him by the arm, trying to make him rise. This + attempt only irritated Marillac; he seized hold of the edge of the table + and clung to it with all his might, screaming: + </p> + <p> + “No! a thousand times no! I will finish my story. President, allow me to + speak. Ah! ha! you wish to prevent me from speaking because you know that + I tell a story better than you, and that I make an impression upon my + audience. You never have been able to catch my chic. Jealous! Envious! I + know you, serpent!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you, if you ever cared for me, listen!” replied Octave, who, as + he bent over his friend, noticed the Baron’s attentive look. + </p> + <p> + “No, I say no!” shouted the artist again, and he added to this word one of + the ugliest-sounding oaths in the French language. He arose, and pushing + Octave aside, leaned upon the table, bursting into a loud laugh. “Poets + all,” said he, “be reassured and rejoice. You shall have your story, in + spite of those envious serpents. But first give me something to drink, for + my throat is like a box of matches. No wine,” he added, as he saw the + notary armed with a bottle. “This devilish wine has made me thirsty + instead of refreshing me; besides, I am going to be as sober as a judge.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut, with the desperation of a man who sees that he is about to be + ruined, seized him again by the arm and tried to fascinate him by his + steady gaze. But he obtained no response to this mute and threatening + supplication except a stupid smile and these stammering words: + </p> + <p> + “Give me something to drink, Boleslas—Marinski-Graboski—I + believe that Satan has lighted his heating apparatus within my stomach.” + </p> + <p> + The persons seated near the two friends heard an angry hiss from Gerfaut’s + lips. He suddenly leaned over, and taking, from among several bottles, a + little carafe he filled Marillac’s glass to the brim. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” said the latter, trying to stand erect upon his legs; “you are + an angel. Rest easy, your love affairs will run no risk. I will gloss it + all over—To your health, gentlemen!” + </p> + <p> + He emptied the glass and put it upon the table; he then smiled and waved + his hand at his auditors with true royal courtesy; but his mouth remained + half open as if his lips were petrified, his eyes grew large and assumed a + haggard expression; the hand he had stretched out fell to his side; a + second more, and he reeled and fell from his chair as if he had had a + stroke of apoplexy. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut, whose eyes had not left him, watched these different symptoms + with unutterable anxiety; but in spite of his fright, he drew a sigh of + relief when he saw Marillac mute and speechless. + </p> + <p> + “It is singular,” observed the notary, as he aided in removing his + neighbor from the table, “that glass of water had more effect upon him + than four or five bottles of wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Georges,” said Gerfaut to one of the servants, in an agitated voice, + “open his bed and help me carry him to it; Monsieur de Bergenheim, I + suppose there is a chemist near here, if I should need any medicine.” + </p> + <p> + The greater part of the guests arose at this unexpected incident, and some + of them hastened to Marillac’s side, as he remained motionless in his + chair. The repeated bathing of his temples with cold water and the holding + of salts to his nose were not able to bring him to consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Instead of going to his aid with the others, Bergenheim profited by the + general confusion to lean over the table. He plunged his finger into the + artist’s glass, in which a part of the water remained, and then touched + his tongue. Only the notary noticed this movement. Thinking this rather + strange, he seized the glass in his turn and swallowed the few drops that + it contained. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens!” he exclaimed, in a low voice, to Bergenheim, “I am not + surprised that the bumper asphyxiated him on the spot. Do you know, Baron, + if this Monsieur de Gerfaut had taken anything but water during the + evening, I should say that he was the drunker of the two; or that, if they + were not such good friends, he wished to poison him in order to stop his + talk. Did you notice that he did not seem pleased to hear this story?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you, too!” exclaimed the Baron angrily, “everybody will know it.” + </p> + <p> + “To take a carafe of kirsch for clear water,” continued the notary, + without paying any attention to the Baron’s agitation. “The devil! the + safe thing to do is to give him an emetic at once; this poor fellow has + enough prussic acid in his stomach to poison a cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is talking of prussic acid and poisoning?” exclaimed the public + prosecutor, running with an unsteady step from one extremity of the table + to the other, “who has been poisoned? I am the public prosecutor, I am the + only one here who has any power to start an investigation. Have they had + an autopsy? Where did they find it? Buried in the fields or the woods, or + floating on the river?” + </p> + <p> + “You lie! there is no dead body in the river!” exclaimed Bergenheim, in a + thundering voice, as he seized the magistrate by the collar in a + bewildered way. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate was incapable of making the least resistance when held by + such a vigorous hand and he received two or three shakings. Suddenly the + Baron stopped, and struck his forehead with a gesture common to persons + who feel that their reason has given way under a paroxysm of rage. + </p> + <p> + “I am crazy,” said he, with much emotion. “Monsieur,” he added, “I am very + sorry. We really have all taken too much wine. I beg your pardon, + gentlemen. I will leave you a moment—I need some fresh air.” + </p> + <p> + He hurriedly left the room, almost running against the persons who were + carrying Marillac to his room. The public prosecutor, whose ideas had been + somewhat mixed before, was now completely muddled by this unheard-of + attack upon his dignity, and fell back exhausted in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “All poor drinkers!” said the notary to Monsieur de Carrier who was left + alone with him, for the prosecutor, half suffocated with indignation and + intoxication, could no longer be counted as one of them. “Here they are, + all drunk, from just a few glasses of wine.” + </p> + <p> + The notary shook his head with a mysterious air. + </p> + <p> + “These things, though, are plain enough to me,” said he at last; “first, + this Monsieur Marillac has not a very strong head and tells pretty tedious + stories when drunk; then his friend has a way of taking kirsch for water + which I can understand only in extreme cases; but the Baron is the one who + astonished me most. Did you notice how he shook our friend who has just + fallen on the floor? As to the Baron pretending that he was drunk and thus + excusing himself, I do not believe one word of it; he drank nothing but + water. There were times this evening when he appeared very strange indeed! + There is some deviltry underneath all this; Monsieur de Carrier, rest + assured there is some deviltry underneath it all.” + </p> + <p> + “I am the public prosecutor—they can not remove the body without + me,” stammered the weak voice of the magistrate, who, after trying in vain + to recover his equilibrium, lay flat upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. A STRATAGEM + </h2> + <p> + Instead of joining the persons who were carrying Marillac away, Christian + went into the garden after leaving the dining-room, in quest of the fresh + air which he gave as an excuse for leaving his guests. In fact, he felt + oppressed almost to suffocation by the emotions he had undergone during + the last few hours. The dissimulation which prudence made a necessity and + honor a duty had aggravated the suffering by protracted concealment. + </p> + <p> + For some time Christian walked rapidly among the paths and trees in the + park. Bathing his burning brow in the cool night air, he sought to calm + the secret agitation and the boiling blood that were raging within him, in + the midst of which his reason struggled and fought like a ship about to be + wrecked. He used all his strength to recover his self-possession, so as to + be able to master the perils and troubles which surrounded him with a calm + if not indifferent eye; in one word, to regain that control over himself + that he had lost several times during the supper. His efforts were not in + vain. He contemplated his situation without weakness, exaggeration, or + anger, as if it concerned another. Two facts rose foremost before him, one + accomplished, the other uncertain. On one side, murder, on the other, + adultery. No human power could remedy the first or prevent its + consequences; he accepted it, then, but turn his mind away from it he + must, in the presence of this greater disaster. So far, only presumptions + existed against Clemence—grave ones, to be sure, if one added + Lambernier’s revelations to Marillac’s strangely indiscreet remarks. It + was his first duty to himself, as well as to her, to know the whole truth; + if innocent, he would beg her forgiveness; if guilty, he had a + chastisement to inflict. + </p> + <p> + “It is an abyss,” thought he, “and I may find as much blood as mud at the + bottom of it. No matter, I will descend to its very depths.” + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the chateau, his face had resumed its usual calm + expression. The most observing person would hardly have noticed any change + in his looks. The dining-room had been abandoned at last. The victorious + and the vanquished had retired to their rooms. First of all, he went up to + the artist’s apartment, so that no singularity in his conduct should + attract attention, for, as master of the house, a visit to one of his + guests who had fallen dead, or nearly so, at his own table was a positive + duty. The attentions lavished upon Marillac by his friend had removed the + danger which might have resulted from his imprudent excesses in drinking, + and the sort of poisoning with which he had crowned the whole. He lay upon + his bed in the same position in which he had first been placed, and was + sleeping that heavy, painful sleep which serves as an expiation for + bacchic excesses. Gerfaut was seated a few steps from him, at a table, + writing; he seemed prepared to sit up all night, and to fulfill, with the + devotion of a friend, the duties of a nurse. + </p> + <p> + Octave arose at sight of the Baron, his face having resumed its habitual + reserved expression. The two men greeted each other with equal composure. + </p> + <p> + “Is he sleeping?” asked Christian. + </p> + <p> + “But a few minutes only,” replied the latter; “he is all right now, and I + hope,” Octave added, smilingly, “that this will serve as a lesson to you, + and that hereafter you will put some limits to your princely hospitality. + Your table is a regular ambush.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not throw stones at me, I pray,” replied the Baron, with an appearance + of equal good-humor. “If your friend wants to ask an explanation of + anybody it is of you, for you took some kirsch of 1765 for water.” + </p> + <p> + “I really believe that I was the drunker of the two,” interrupted Octave, + with a vivacity which concealed a certain embarrassment; “we must have + terribly scandalized Monsieur de Camier, who has but a poor opinion of + Parisian heads and stomachs.” + </p> + <p> + After looking for a moment at the sleeping artist, Christian approached + the table where Gerfaut was seated, and threw a glance over the latter’s + writing. + </p> + <p> + “You are still at work, I see?” said he, as his eyes rested upon the + paper. + </p> + <p> + “Just now I am following the modest trade of copyist. These are some + verses which Mademoiselle de Corandeuil asked me for—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me a favor? I am going to her room now; give me these verses + to hand to her. Since the misfortune that befell Constance, she has been + terribly angry with me, and I shall not be sorry to have some reason for + going to her room.” + </p> + <p> + Octave finished the two or three lines which remained to be copied, and + handed the sheet to Bergenheim. The latter looked at it attentively, then + carefully folded it and put it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Monsieur,” said he, “I will leave you to your friendly + duties.” + </p> + <p> + There was something so solemn in the calm accent of these words, and the + polite bow which accompanied them, that Gerfaut felt chilled, though not + alarmed, for he did not understand. + </p> + <p> + When he reached his room, Bergenheim opened the paper which Gerfaut had + just given him and compared it with the letter he had received from + Lambernier. The suspicions which a separate examination had aroused were + confirmed upon comparing the two letters; no doubt was possible; the + letter and the poetry were written by the same hand! + </p> + <p> + After a few moments’ reflection, Christian went to his wife’s room. + </p> + <p> + Clemence was seated in an armchair, near the fireplace, indulging in a + revery. Although her lover was not there, she was still under the charm of + this consuming as well as intellectual passion, which responded to the + yearnings of her heart, the delicacy of her tastes, and the activity of + her imagination. At this moment, she was happy to live; there was not a + sad thought that these words, “He loves me!” could not efface. + </p> + <p> + The noise of the opening door aroused her from her meditation. Madame de + Bergenheim turned her head with a look of vexation, but instead of the + servant whom she was ready to reprimand, she saw her husband. The + expression of impatience imprinted upon her face gave way to one of + fright. She arose with a movement she could not repress, as if she had + seen a stranger, and stood leaning against the mantel in a constrained + attitude. Nothing in Christian’s manner justified, however, the fear the + sight of him seemed to cause his wife. He advanced with a tranquil air, + and a smile that he had forced upon his lips. + </p> + <p> + With the presence of mind with which all women seem to be gifted, Clemence + fell back into her chair, and, assuming a languid, suffering tone, mixed + with an appearance of reproach, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you for a moment in order to scold you; you have not + shown your usual consideration to-night. Did you not think that the noise + from the dining-room might reach as far as here?” + </p> + <p> + “Has it troubled you?” asked Christian, looking at her attentively. + </p> + <p> + “Unless one had a head of cast-iron—It seems that these gentlemen + have abused the liberty permitted in the country. From what Justine tells + me, things have taken place which would have been more appropriate at the + Femme-sans-Tete.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you suffering very much?” + </p> + <p> + “A frightful neuralgia—I only wish I could sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I was wrong not to have thought of this. You will forgive me, will you + not?” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim leaned over the chair, passed his arm around the young woman’s + shoulders, and pressed his lips to her forehead. For the first time in his + life, he was playing a part upon the marital stage, and he watched with + the closest attention the slightest expression of his wife’s face. He + noticed that she shivered, and that her forehead which he had lightly + touched was as cold as marble. + </p> + <p> + He arose and took several turns about the room, avoiding even a glance at + her, for the aversion which she had just shown toward her husband seemed + to him positive proof of the very thing he dreaded, and he feared he + should not be able to contain himself. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” she asked, as she noticed his agitation. + </p> + <p> + These words brought the Baron to his senses, and he returned to her side, + replying in a careless tone: + </p> + <p> + “I am annoyed for a very simple cause; it concerns your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. She is furious against you on account of the double misfortune to + her dog and coachman. You will admit that, as far as Constance is + concerned, you are guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “She is not content with being furious; she threatens a complete rupture. + Here, read this.” + </p> + <p> + He handed her a large letter, folded lengthwise and sealed with the + Corandeuil crest. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim took the letter and read its contents aloud: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “After the unheard-of and unqualifiable events of this day, the + resolution which I have formed will doubtless not surprise you in + the least, Monsieur. You will understand that I can not and will + not remain longer in a house where the lives of my servants and + other creatures which are dear to me may be exposed to the most + deplorable, wilful injury. I have seen for some time, although I + have tried to close my eyes to the light of truth, the plots that + were hatched daily against all who wore the Corandeuil livery. I + supposed that I should not be obliged to put an end to this highly + unpleasant matter myself, but that you would undertake this charge. + It seems, however, that respect and regard for women do not form + part of a gentleman’s duties nowadays. I shall therefore be obliged + to make up myself for the absence of such attentions, and watch over + the safety of the persons and other creatures that belong to me. I + shall leave for Paris tomorrow. I hope that Constance’s condition + will permit her to endure the journey, but Baptiste’s wound is too + serious for me to dare to expose him. I am compelled, although with + deep regret, to leave him here until he is able to travel, trusting + him to the kind mercies of my niece. + + “Receive, Monsieur, with my adieux, my thanks for your courteous + hospitality. + + “YOLANDE DE CORANDEUIL.” + </pre> + <p> + “Your aunt abuses the privileges of being foolish,” said the Baron, when + his wife had finished reading the letter; “she deserts the battlefield and + leaves behind her wounded.” + </p> + <p> + “But I saw her, not two hours ago, and, although she was very angry, she + did not say one word of this departure.” + </p> + <p> + “Jean handed me this letter but a moment ago, clad in full livery, and + with the importance of an ambassador who demands his passports. You must + go and talk with her, dear, and use all your eloquence to make her change + her mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go at once,” said Clemence, rising. + </p> + <p> + “You know that your aunt is rather obstinate when she takes a notion into + her head. If she persists in this, tell her, in order to decide her to + remain, that I am obliged to go to Epinal with Monsieur de Carrier + tomorrow morning, on account of the sale of some wood-land, and that I + shall be absent three days at least. You understand that it will be + difficult for your aunt to leave you alone during my absence, on account + of these gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, that could not be,” said she, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I do not see, as far as I am concerned, anything improper about it,” said + the Baron, trying to smile; “but we must obey the proprieties. You are too + young and too pretty a mistress of the house to pass for a chaperon, and + Aline, instead of being a help, would be one inconvenience the more. So + your aunt must stay here until my return.” + </p> + <p> + “And by that time Constance and Baptiste will be both cured and her anger + will have passed away. You did not tell me about this trip to Epinal nor + the selling of the woodland.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to your aunt’s room before she retires to bed,” replied Bergenheim, + without paying any attention to this remark, and seating himself in the + armchair; “I will wait for you here. We leave to-morrow morning early, and + I wish to know tonight what to depend upon.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Madame de Bergenheim had left the room, Christian arose and + ran, rather than walked, to the space between the two windows, and sought + the button in the woodwork of which Lambernier had told him. He soon found + it, and upon his first pressure the spring worked and the panel flew open. + The casket was upon the shelf; he took it and carefully examined the + letters which it contained. The greater part of them resembled in form the + one that he possessed; some of them were in envelopes directed to Madame + de Bergenheim and bore Gerfaut’s crest. There was no doubt about the + identity of the handwriting; if the Baron had had any, these proofs were + enough. After glancing rapidly over a few of the notes, he replaced them + in the casket and returned the latter to the shelf where he had found it. + He then carefully closed the little door and reseated himself beside the + fireplace. + </p> + <p> + When Clemence returned, her husband seemed absorbed in reading one of the + books which he had found upon her table, while he mechanically played with + a little bronze cup that his wife used to drop her rings in when she + removed them. + </p> + <p> + “I have won my case,” said the Baroness, in a gay tone; “my aunt saw + clearly the logic of the reasons which I gave her, and she defers her + departure until your return.” + </p> + <p> + Christian made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “That means that she will not go at all, for her anger will have time to + cool off in three days; at heart she is really kind!—How long is it + since you have known English?” she asked, as she noticed that her + husband’s attention seemed to be fixed upon a volume of Lord Byron’s + poems. + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim threw the book on the table, raised his head and gazed calmly + at his wife. In spite of all his efforts, his face had assumed an + expression which would have frightened her if she had noticed it, but her + eyes were fastened upon the cup which he was twisting in his hand as if it + were made of clay. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! Christian, what is the matter with you? What are you doing to + my poor cup?” she asked, with surprise mingled with a little of that + fright which is so prompt to be aroused if one feels not above reproach. + </p> + <p> + He arose and put the misshapen bronze upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what ails me to-night,” said he, “my nerves are unstrung. I + will leave you, for I need rest myself. I shall start to-morrow morning + before you are up, and I shall return Wednesday.” + </p> + <p> + “Not any later, I hope,” she said, with that soft, sweet voice, from + which, in such circumstances, very few women have the loyalty to abstain. + </p> + <p> + He went out without replying, for he feared he might be no longer master + of himself; he felt, when offered this hypocritical, almost criminal, + caress, as if he would like to end it all by killing her on the spot. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE CRISIS + </h2> + <p> + Twenty-four hours had passed. The Baron had departed early in the morning, + and so had all his guests, with the exception of Gerfaut and the artist. + The day passed slowly and tediously. Aline had been vexed, somewhat + estranged from her sister-in-law since their conversation in the little + parlor. Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was entirely occupied in restoring her + poodle to health. + </p> + <p> + Marillac, who had been drinking tea ever since rising, dared not present + his face, which showed the effects of his debauch of the night before, to + the mistress of the house, whose exacting and aristocratic austerity he + very much feared. He pretended to be ill, in order to delay the moment + when he should be forced to make his appearance. Madame de Bergenheim did + not leave her aunt, and thus avoided being alone with Octave—who, on + account of these different complications, might have spent a continual + tete-a-tete with her had she been so inclined. Christian’s absence, + instead of being a signal of deliverance for the lovers, seemed to have + created a new misunderstanding, for Clemence felt that it would be a mean + action to abuse the liberty her husband’s departure gave her. She was thus + very reserved during the day, when she felt that there were more + facilities for yielding, but, in the evening, when alone in her apartment, + this fictitious prudery disappeared. She spent the entire evening lying + upon the divan in the little boudoir, dreaming of Octave, talking to him + as if he could reply, putting into practice again that capitulation of + conscience which permits our mind to wander on the brink of guilt, + provided actions are strictly correct. + </p> + <p> + After a while this exaltation fell by degrees. When struggling earnestly, + she had regarded Octave as an enemy; but, since she had gone to him as one + passes over to the enemy, and, in her heart, had taken part with the lover + against the husband, her courage failed her as she thought of this, and + she fell, weak, guilty, and vanquished before the combat. + </p> + <p> + When she had played with her passion, she had given Christian little + thought; she had felt it childish to bring her husband into an amusement + that she believed perfectly harmless; then, when she wished to break her + plaything, and found it made of iron and turning more and more into a + tyrannical yoke, she called to her aid the conjugal divinities, but in too + faint a voice to be heard. Now the situation had changed again. Christian + was no longer the insignificant ally that the virtuous wife had condemned, + through self-conceit, to ignorant neutrality; he was the husband, in the + hostile and fearful acceptation of the word. This man whom she had wronged + would always have law on his side. + </p> + <p> + Religion sometimes takes pity on a wayward wife, but society is always + ready to condemn her. She was his own, fastened to him by indissoluble + bonds. He had marked her with his name like a thing of his own; he held + the threads of her life in his hands; he was the dispenser of her fortune, + the judge of her actions, and the master of their fireside. She had no + dignity except through him. If he should withdraw his support for a single + day, she would fall from her position without any human power being able + to rescue her. Society closes its doors to the outcast wife, and adds to + the husband’s sentence another penalty still more scathing. + </p> + <p> + Having now fallen from the sphere of illusion to that of reality, Madame + de Bergenheim was wounded at every step. A bitter feeling of + discouragement overwhelmed her, as she thought of the impossibility of + happiness to which a deplorable fatality condemned her. Marriage and love + struggled for existence, both powerless to conquer, and qualified only to + cause each other’s death. Marriage made love a crime; love made marriage a + torture. She could only choose between two abysses: shame in her love, + despair in her virtue. + </p> + <p> + The hours passed rapidly in these sad and gloomy meditations; the clock + marked the hour of midnight. Madame de Bergenheim thought it time to try + to sleep; but, instead of ringing for her maid, she decided to go to the + library herself and get a book, thinking that perhaps it might aid her in + going to sleep. As she opened the door leading into the closet adjoining + her parlor, she saw by the light of the candle which she held in her hand + something which shone like a precious stone lying upon the floor. At first + she thought it might be one of her rings, but as she stooped to pick it up + she saw her error. It was a ruby pin mounted in enamelled gold. She + recognized it, at the very first glance, as belonging to M. de Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + She picked up the pin and returned to the parlor. She exhausted in + imagination a thousand conjectures in order to explain the presence of + this object in such a place. Octave must have entered it or he could not + have left this sign of his presence; it meant that he could enter her room + at his will; what he had done once, he could certainly do again! The + terror which this thought gave her dissipated like a dash of cold water + all her former intoxicating thoughts; for, like the majority of women, she + had more courage in theory than in action. A moment before, she had + invoked Octave’s image and seated it lovingly by her side. + </p> + <p> + When she believed this realization possible, all she thought of was to + prevent it. She was sure that her lover never had entered the closet + through the parlor, as he never had been in this part of the house farther + than the little drawing-room. Suddenly a thought of the little corridor + door struck her; she remembered that this door was not usually locked + because the one from the library was always closed; she knew that Octave + had a key to the latter, and she readily understood how he had reached her + apartment. Mustering up all her courage through excessive fear, she + returned to the closet, hurried down the stairs, and pushed the bolt. She + then returned to the parlor and fell upon the divan, completely exhausted + by her expedition. + </p> + <p> + Little by little her emotion passed away. Her fright appeared childish to + her, as soon as she believed herself sheltered from danger; she promised + herself to give Octave a good scolding the next morning; then she + renounced this little pleasure, when she remembered that it would force + her to admit the discovery of the pin, and of course to return it to him, + for she had resolved to keep it. She had always had a particular fancy for + this pin, but she would never have dared to ask him for it, and besides, + it was the fact that Octave usually wore it that made it of infinite value + to her. The desire to appropriate it was irresistible, since chance had + thrown it into her hands. She tied a black satin ribbon about her white + neck, and pinned it with the precious ruby. After kissing it as devotedly + as if it were a relic, she ran to her mirror to judge of the effect of the + theft. + </p> + <p> + “How pretty, and how I love it!” said she; “but how can I wear it so that + he will not see it?” + </p> + <p> + Before she could solve this problem, she heard a slight noise, which + petrified her as she stood before her glass. + </p> + <p> + “It is he!” she thought; after standing for a moment half stunned, she + dragged herself as far as the stairs, and leaning over, listened with fear + and trembling. At first she could hear nothing but the beating of her + heart; then she heard the other noise again, and more distinctly. Somebody + was turning the handle of the door, trying to open it. The unexpected + obstacle of the bolt doubtless exasperated the would-be visitor, for the + door was shaken and pushed with a violence which threatened to break the + lock or push down the door. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim’s first thought was to run into her chamber and lock + the door behind her;—the second showed her the danger that might + result if the slightest noise should reach other ears. Not a moment was to + be lost in hesitation. The young woman quickly descended the stairs and + drew the bolt. The door opened softly and closed with the same precaution. + The lamp from the parlor threw a feeble light upon the upper steps of the + staircase, but the lower ones were in complete darkness. It was with her + heart rather than her eyes that she recognized Octave; he could + distinguish Madame de Bergenheim only in an indistinct way by her white + dress, which was faintly outlined in the darkness; she stood before him + silent and trembling with emotion, for she had not yet thought of a speech + that would send him away. + </p> + <p> + He also felt the embarrassment usual in any one guilty of so foolhardy an + action. He had expected to surprise Clemence, and he found her upon her + guard; the thought of the disloyal part he was playing at this moment made + the blood mount to his cheeks and took away, for the time being, his + ordinary assurance. He sought in vain for a speech which might first + justify him and then conquer her. He had recourse to a method often + employed in the absence of eloquence. He fell on his knees before the + young woman and seized her hands; it seemed as if the violence of his + emotions rendered him incapable of expressing himself except by silent + adoration. As she felt his hands touch hers, Clemence drew back and said + in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “You disgust me!” + </p> + <p> + “Disgust!” he repeated, drawing himself up to his full height. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that is not enough,” she continued, indignantly, “I ought to say + scorn instead of disgust. You deceived me when you said you loved me—you + infamously deceived me!” + </p> + <p> + “But I adore you!” he exclaimed, with vehemence; “what proof do you wish + of my love?” + </p> + <p> + “Go! go away at once! A proof, did you say? I will accept only one: go, I + order it, do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + Instead of obeying her, he seized her in his arms in spite of her + resistance. + </p> + <p> + “Anything but that,” he said; “order me to kill myself at your feet, I + will do it, but I will not go.” + </p> + <p> + She tried for a moment to disengage herself, but although she used all her + strength, she was unable to do so. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are without pity,” she said, feebly, “but I abhor you; rather, a + thousand times rather, kill me!” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut was almost frightened by the agonized accent in which she spoke + these words; he released her, but as he removed his arms, she reeled and + he was obliged to support her. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you persecute me, then?” she murmured, as she fell in a faint upon + her lover’s breast. + </p> + <p> + He picked her up in his arms and mounted the narrow stairs with + difficulty. Carrying her into the parlor, he placed her upon the divan. + She had completely lost consciousness; one would have believed her dead + from the pallor of her face, were, it not for a slight trembling which + agitated her form every few seconds and announced a nervous attack. The + most expert of lady’s maids could not have removed the little ribbon from + her neck, which seemed to trouble her respiration, more adroitly than did + Octave. In spite of his anxiety, he could not repress a smile as he + recognized the pin which he hardly expected to find upon Clemence’s neck, + considering the hostile way in which she had greeted him. He knelt before + her and bathed her temples with cold water, making her also inhale some + salts which he found upon the toilet table in the next room. Little by + little, these attentions produced an effect; the nervous convulsion became + less frequent and a slight flush suffused her pale cheeks. She opened her + eyes and then closed them, as if the light troubled them; then, extending + her arms, she passed them about Octave’s neck as he leaned over her; she + remained thus for some time, breathing quietly and to all appearances + sleeping. Suddenly she said: + </p> + <p> + “You will give me your pin, will you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Is not all that I have yours?” he replied, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Mine!” she continued, in a feebly loving voice; “tell me again that you + belong to me, to me alone, Octave!” + </p> + <p> + “You do not send me away any longer, then? you like me to be near you?” he + said, with a happy smile, as he kissed the young woman’s brow. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! stay, I beg of you! stay with me forever!” + </p> + <p> + She folded her arms more tightly around him, as if she feared he might + leave her. Suddenly she sat up, opened her eyes, and gazed about her in + silent astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” said she, “and how is it that you are here? Ah! this + is dreadful indeed; you have cruelly punished me for my weakness.” + </p> + <p> + This sudden severity after her delicious abandon, changed Octave’s + pleasure into angry vexation. + </p> + <p> + “You are the one,” he replied, “who are cruel! Why allow me so much bliss, + if you intended to take it away from me so soon? Since you love me only in + your dreams, I beg of you to go to sleep again and never awaken. I will + stay near you. Your words were so sweet, but a moment ago, and now you + deny them!” + </p> + <p> + “What did I say?” she asked, with hesitation, a deep blush suffusing her + face and neck. + </p> + <p> + These symptoms, which he considered a bad augury, increased Octave’s + irritation. He arose and said in a bitter tone: + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing! I will not abuse the words which have escaped you, however + flattering or charming they may have been; they told me that you loved me. + I do not believe it any longer; you are agitated, I can see; but it is + from fear and not love.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence drew herself up upon the divan, crossed her arms over her breast + and gazed at him for a few moments in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe these two sentiments incompatible?” she asked at last; + “you are the only one whom I fear. Others would not complain.” + </p> + <p> + There was such irresistible charm in her voice and glance that Gerfaut’s + ill-humor melted away like ice in the sun’s rays. He fell upon his knees + before the divan, and tried to pass her arms about his neck as before; but + instead of lending herself to this project, she attempted to rise. + </p> + <p> + “I am so happy at your feet,” he said, gently preventing her. “Everybody + else can sit beside you; I only have the right to kneel. Do not take this + right away from me.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim extricated one of her hands, and, raising her finger + with a threatening gesture, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Think a little less of your rights, and more of your duties. I advise you + to obey me and to profit by my kindness, which allows you to sit by my + side for a moment. Think that I might be more severe, and that if I + treated you as you merited—if I told you to go away, would you obey + me?” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut hesitated a moment and looked at her supplicatingly. + </p> + <p> + “I would obey,” said he; “but would you have the courage to order it?” + </p> + <p> + “I allow you to remain until just half past twelve,” said she, as she + glanced at the clock, which she could see through the half-open door. + Gerfaut followed her glance, and saw that she accorded him only a quarter + of an hour: but he was too clever to make any observation. He knew that + the second quarter of an hour is always less difficult to obtain than the + first. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said she, “that you have thought me capricious to-day; you + must pardon me, it is a family fault. You know the saying: ‘Caprice de + Corandeuil?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it to be said: Amour de Gerfaut,” said he, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “You are right to be amiable and say pleasant things to me, for I need + them badly to-night. I am sad and weary; the darkest visions come before + my mind. I think it is the storm which makes me feel so. How doleful this + thunder is! It seems to me like an omen of misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + “It is only the fancy of your vivid imagination. If you exerted the same + will to be happy that you do to imagine troubles, our life would be + perfect. What matters the storm? and even if you do see an omen in it, + what is there so very terrible? Clouds are vapor, thunder is a sound, both + are equally ephemeral; only the blue sky, which they can obscure but for a + moment, is eternal.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not hear something just now?” asked Madame de Bergenheim, as she + gave a sudden start and listened eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. What did you think it was?” + </p> + <p> + “I feared it might be Justine who had taken it into her head to come down + stairs; she is so tiresome in her attentions—” + </p> + <p> + She arose and went to look in her chamber, which she carefully locked; a + moment later, she returned and seated herself again upon the divan. + </p> + <p> + “Justine is sleeping by this time,” said Octave; “I should not have + ventured if I had not seen that her light was out.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence took his hand and placed it over her heart. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said she, “when I tell you that I am frightened, will you believe + me?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear!” he exclaimed, as he felt her heart throbbing violently. + </p> + <p> + “You are the one who causes me these palpitations for the slightest thing. + I know that we do not run any danger, that everybody is in his own room by + this time, and yet, somehow, I feel terribly frightened. There are women, + so they say, who get used to this torture, and end by being guilty and + tranquil at the same time. It is an unworthy thought, but I’ll confess + that, sometimes, when I suffer so, I wish I were like them. But it is + impossible; I was not made for wrong-doing. You can not understand this, + you are a man; you love boldly, you indulge in every thought that seems + sweet to you without being troubled by remorse. And then, when you suffer, + your anguish at least belongs to you, nobody has any right to ask you what + is the matter. But I, my tears even are not my own; I have often shed them + on your account—I must hide them, for he has a right to ask: ‘Why do + you weep?’ And what can I reply?” + </p> + <p> + She turned away her head to conceal the tears which she could not + restrain; he saw them, and, leaning over her, he kissed them away. + </p> + <p> + “Your tears are mine!” he exclaimed, passionately; “but do not distress me + by telling me that our love makes you unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy! oh, yes! very unhappy! and yet I would not change this sorrow + for the richest joys of others. This unhappiness is my treasure! To be + loved by you! To think that there was a time when our love might have been + legitimate! What fatality weighs upon us, Octave? Why did we know each + other too late? I often dream a beautiful dream—a dream of freedom.” + </p> + <p> + “You are free if you love me—It is the rain against the windows,” + said he, seeing Madame de Bergenheim anxiously listening again. They kept + silent for a moment, but could hear nothing except the monotonous + whistling of the storm. + </p> + <p> + “To be loved by you and not to blush!” said she, as she gazed at him + lovingly. “To be together always, without fearing that a stroke of + lightning might separate us! to give you my heart and still be worthy to + pray! it would be one of those heavenly delights that one grasps only in + dreams—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! dream when I shall be far from you; but, when I am at your feet, when + our hearts beat only for each other, do not evoke, lest you destroy our + present happiness, that which is beyond our power. Do you think there are + bonds which can more strongly unite us? Am I not yours? And you, yourself, + who speak of the gift of your heart, have you not given it to me + entirely?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, entirely! And it is but right, since I owe it to you. I did not + understand life until the day I received it from your eyes; since that + minute I have lived, and I can die. I love you! I fail to find words to + tell you one-tenth of what my heart contains, but I love you—” + </p> + <p> + He received her in his arms, where she took refuge so as to conceal her + face after these words. She remained thus for an instant, then arose with + a start, seized Octave’s hands and pressed them in a convulsive manner, + saying in a voice as weak as a dying woman’s: + </p> + <p> + “I am lost!” + </p> + <p> + He instinctively followed Clemence’s gaze, which was fastened upon the + glass door. An almost imperceptible movement of the muslin curtain was + evident. At the same moment, there was a slight noise, a step upon the + carpet, the turning of the handle of the door, and it was silently opened + as if by a ghost. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. THE AGREEMENT + </h2> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim tried to rise, but her strength failed her, she fell + on her knees, and then dropped at her lover’s feet. The latter leaped from + the divan with out trying to assist her, stepped over the body stretched + before him, and drew his poniard out of his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Christian stood upon the threshold of the door silent and motionless. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of terrible silence. Only the eyes of the two men + spoke; those of the husband were fixed, dull, and implacable; those of the + lover sparkled with the audacity of despair. After a moment of mutual + fascination, the Baron made a movement as if to enter. + </p> + <p> + “One step more and you are a dead man!” exclaimed Gerfaut, in a low voice, + as he clutched the handle of his poniard. + </p> + <p> + Christian extended his hand, replying to this threat only by a look; but + such an imperative one that the thrust of a lance would not have been as + fearful to the lover. Octave put his poniard in its sheath, ashamed of his + emotion in the presence of such calm, and imitated his enemy’s scornful + attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Monsieur,” said the latter, in a low voice, as he took a step + backward. + </p> + <p> + Instead of following his example, Gerfaut cast a glance upon Clemence. She + had fallen in such a dead faint that he sought in vain for her breath. He + leaned over her, with an irresistible feeling of pity and love; but just + as he was about to take her in his arms and place her upon the divan, + Bergenheim’s hand stopped him. If there is a being on earth to whom one + owes regard and respect, it is the one whom our own wrong has rendered our + enemy. Octave arose, and said, in a grave, resigned voice: + </p> + <p> + “I am at your orders, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Christian pointed to the door, as if to invite him to pass out first, thus + preserving, with his extraordinary composure, the politeness which a good + education makes an indelible habit, but which at this moment was more + frightful to behold than the most furious outburst of temper. Gerfaut + glanced at Clemence again, and said, as he pointed to her: + </p> + <p> + “Shall you leave her without any aid in this condition? It is cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not from cruelty, but out of pity,” replied the Baron, coldly; “she + will awake only too soon.” + </p> + <p> + Octave’s heart was intensely oppressed, but he managed to conceal his + emotion. He hesitated no longer and stepped out. The husband followed, + without giving a glance at the poor woman whose own words had condemned + her so inexorably. And so she was left alone in this pretty boudoir as if + in a tomb. + </p> + <p> + The two men descended the stairs leading from the little closet. At the + library door they found themselves in absolute obscurity; Christian opened + a dark-lantern and its faint light guided their steps. They traversed, in + silence, the picture-gallery, the vestibule, and then mounted the main + staircase. They reached the Baron’s apartment without meeting anybody or + betraying themselves by the slightest sound. With the same outward + self-possession which had characterized his whole conduct, Christian, + after carefully closing the doors, lighted a candelabra filled with + candles which was upon the mantel, and then turned to his companion, who + was far less composed than he. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut had suffered tortures since leaving the little parlor. A feeling + of regret and deepest pity, at the thought of the inevitable catastrophe + which must follow, had softened his heart. He saw in the most odious of + colors the selfishness of his love. Clemence’s last glance as she fell + fainting at his feet—a forgiving and a loving glance—was like + a dagger in his heart. He had ruined her! the woman he loved! the queen of + his life! the angel he adored! This idea was like hell to him. He was + almost unable to control his emotion, dizzy as he was on the brink of the + abyss opened by his hand, into which he had precipitated what he counted + as the dearest part of his own self. + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim stood, cold and sombre, like a northern sky, opposite this + pale-faced man, upon whose countenance a thousand passionate emotions were + depicted like clouds on a stormy day. + </p> + <p> + When Bergenheim’s eyes met Octave’s, they were so full of vengeance and + hatred that the latter trembled as if he had come in contact with a wild + beast. The lover actually realized the inferiority of his attitude in the + presence of this enraged husband. A feeling of self-pride and indignation + came to his aid. He put aside remorse and regrets until later; these sad + expiations were forbidden him now; another duty lay before him. There is + only one reparation possible for certain offences. The course once open, + one must go to its very end; pardon is to be found only upon the tomb of + the offended. + </p> + <p> + Octave knew he had to submit to this necessity. He stifled all scruples + which might have weakened his firmness, and resumed his habitual + disdainful look. His eyes returned his enemy’s glance of deadly hatred, + and he began the conversation like a man who is accustomed to master the + events of his life and forbids any one to shape them for him. + </p> + <p> + “Before any explanations take place between us,” he said, “I have to + declare to you, upon my honor, that there is only one guilty person in + this affair, and that I am the one. The slightest reproach addressed to + Madame de Bergenheim would be a most unjust outrage and a most deplorable + error on your part. I introduced myself into her apartment without her + knowledge and without having been authorized in any way to do so. I had + just entered it when you arrived. Necessity obliges me to admit a love + that is an outrage to you; I am ready to repair this outrage by any + satisfaction you may demand; but in putting myself at your discretion, I + earnestly insist upon exculpating Madame de Bergenheim from all that can + in any way affect her virtue or her reputation.” + </p> + <p> + “As to her reputation,” said Christian, “I will watch over that; as to her + virtue—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish, but his face assumed an expression of incredulous + irony. + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, Monsieur,” said Octave, with increasing emotion, “that + she is above all seduction and should be sheltered from all insult; I + swear to you—What oath can I take that you will believe? I swear + that Madame de Bergenheim never has betrayed any of her duties toward you; + that I never have received the slightest encouragement from her; that she + is as innocent of my folly as the angels in heaven.” + </p> + <p> + Christian shook his head with a scornful smile. + </p> + <p> + “This day will be the undying remorse of my life if you will not believe + me,” said Gerfaut, with almost uncontrolled vehemence; “I tell you, + Monsieur, she is innocent; innocent! do you understand me? I was led + astray by my passion. I wished to profit by your absence. You know that I + have a key to the library; I used it without her suspecting it. Would to + God that you could have been a witness to our tete-a-tete! you could then + have not one doubt left. Can one prevent a man from entering a lady’s + room, when he has succeeded in finding the way to it in spite of her + wishes? I repeat it, she—” + </p> + <p> + “Enough, Monsieur,” replied the Baron coldly. “You are doing as I should + do in your place; but this discussion is out of place; let this woman + exculpate herself. There should be no mention of her between us now.” + </p> + <p> + “When I protest that upon my honor—” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, under such conditions, a false oath is not dishonorable. I have + been a bachelor myself, and I know that anything is allowable against a + husband. Let us drop this, I beg of you, and return to facts. I consider + that I have been insulted by you, and you must give me satisfaction for + this insult.” + </p> + <p> + Octave made a sign of acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “One of us must die,” replied Bergenheim, leaning his elbow negligently + upon the mantel. The lover bowed his head a second time. + </p> + <p> + “I have offended you,” said he; “you have the right to choose the + reparation due you.” + </p> + <p> + “There is only one possible, Monsieur. Blood alone can wipe away the + disgrace; you know it as well as I. You have dishonored my home, you owe + me your life for that. If Fate favors you, you will be rid of me, and I + shall be wronged in every way. There are arrangements to be made, and we + shall settle them at once, if you are willing.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed an armchair toward Gerfaut, and took another himself. + </p> + <p> + They seated themselves beside a desk which stood in the middle of the + room, and, with an equal appearance of sang-froid and polite haughtiness, + they discussed this murderous combat. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary for me to say to you,” said Octave, “that I accept in + advance whatever you may decide upon; the weapons, place, and seconds—” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, then,” interrupted Bergenheim; “you just now spoke in favor + of this woman in a way that made me think you did not wish her ruined in + the eyes of the world; so I trust you will accept the proposition I am + about to make to you. An ordinary duel would arouse suspicion and + inevitably lead to a discovery of the truth; people would seek for some + plausible motive for the encounter, whatever story we might tell our + seconds. You know that there is but one motive which will be found + acceptable by society for a duel between a young man who had been received + as a guest of this house and the husband. In whatever way this duel may + terminate, this woman’s honor would remain on the ground with the dead, + and that is what I wish to avoid, since she bears my name.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you explain to me what your plan is?” asked Octave, who could not + understand what his adversary had in mind. + </p> + <p> + “You know, Monsieur,” Bergenheim continued, in his calm voice, “that I had + a perfect right to kill you a moment ago; I did not do so for two reasons: + first, a gentleman should use his sword and not a poniard, and then your + dead body would have embarrassed me.” + </p> + <p> + “The river is close by!” interrupted Gerfaut, with a strange smile. + </p> + <p> + Christian looked at him fixedly for a moment, and then replied in a + slightly changed tone: + </p> + <p> + “Instead of availing myself of my right, I intend to risk my life against + yours. The danger is the same for myself, who never have insulted you, as + for you, who have offered me the deadliest insult that one man can offer + another. I am willing to spill my blood, but not to soil my honor.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is a duel without seconds that you desire, you have my consent; I + have perfect confidence in your loyalty, and I hope you can say the same + for mine.” + </p> + <p> + Christian bowed his head slightly and continued: + </p> + <p> + “It is more than a duel without seconds, for the whole affair must be so + contrived as to be looked upon as an accident; it is the only way to + prevent the outbreak and scandal I dread so much. Now here is my + proposition: You know that a wild-boar hunt is to take place to-morrow in + the Mares woods. When we station ourselves we shall be placed together at + a spot I know of, where we shall be out of the sight of the other hunters. + When the boar crosses the enclosure we will fire at a signal agreed upon. + In this way, the denouement, whatever it may be, will be looked upon as + one of those accidents which so frequently happen in shooting-parties.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a dead man,” thought Gerfaut, as he saw that the gun would be the + weapon chosen by his adversary, and recalled his wonderful skill, of which + he had had many and various proofs. But instead of showing the slightest + hesitation, his countenance grew still more arrogant. + </p> + <p> + “This kind of combat seems to me very wisely planned,” said he; “I accept, + for I desire as much as you that this affair should remain an eternal + secret.” + </p> + <p> + “Since we are to have no seconds,” continued Bergenheim, “let us arrange + everything so that nothing can betray us; it is inconceivable how the most + trifling circumstances often turn out crushing evidence. I think that I + have foreseen everything. If you find that I have forgotten any detail, + please remind me of it. The place I speak of is a narrow, well-shaded + path. The ground is perfectly level; it lies from north to south, so that + at eight o’clock in the morning the sun will be on that side; there will + be no advantage in position. There is an old elm on the borders of the + wood; at fifty steps’ distance in the pathway, lies the trunk of an oak + which has been felled this year. These are the two places where we will + station ourselves, if you consent to it. Is it the proper distance?” + </p> + <p> + “Near or farther, it matters little. Breast to breast, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Nearer would be imprudent. However, fifty steps with the gun is less than + fifteen with a pistol. This point is settled. We will remain with heads + covered, although this is not the custom. A ball might strike the head + where the cap would be, and if this should happen it would arouse + suspicion, as people do not hunt bareheaded. It only remains to decide who + shall fire first,” continued Christian. + </p> + <p> + “You, of course; you are the offended one.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not admit the full offence to have been committed, and, since this + is in doubt, and I can not be judge and jury together, we shall consult + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I declare to you that I will not fire first,” interrupted Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + “Remember that it is a mortal duel, and such scruples are foolish. Let us + agree that whoever has the first shot, shall place himself upon the border + of the woods and await the signal, which the other will give when the boar + crosses the enclosure.” + </p> + <p> + He took a gold piece from his purse and threw it in the air. + </p> + <p> + “Heads!” said the lover, ready to acquiesce to the least of his + adversary’s conditions. + </p> + <p> + “Fate is for you,” said Christian, looking at the coin with marked + indifference; “but, remember, if at the signal given by me you do not + fire, or only fire in the air, I shall use my right to shoot—You + know that I rarely miss my aim.” + </p> + <p> + These preliminaries ended, the Baron took two guns from his closet, loaded + them, taking particular care to show that they were of equal length and + the same calibre. He then locked them up in the closet and offered Gerfaut + the key. + </p> + <p> + “I would not do you this injustice,” said the latter. + </p> + <p> + “This precaution is hardly necessary, since, tomorrow, you will take your + choice of those weapons. Now that everything is arranged,” continued the + Baron, in a graver tone, “I have one request to make of you, and I think + you are too loyal to refuse it. Swear to me that whatever may be the + result, you will keep all this a profound secret. My honor is now in your + hands; speaking as a gentleman to a gentleman, I ask you to respect it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I have the sad privilege of surviving you,” replied Gerfaut, no less + solemnly, “I swear to you to keep the secret inviolate. But, supposing a + contrary event, I also have a request to make to you. What are your + intentions regarding Madame de Bergenheim?” + </p> + <p> + Christian gazed at his adversary a moment, with a searching glance which + seemed to read his innermost thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “My intentions?” said he at last, in a displeased, surprised tone; “this + is a very strange question; I do not recognize your right to ask it.” + </p> + <p> + “My right is certainly strange,” said the lover, with a bitter smile; “but + whatever it may be, I shall make use of it. I have destroyed this woman’s + happiness forever; if I can not repair this fault, at least I ought to + mitigate the effect as much as lies in my power. Will you reply to me—if + I die tomorrow, what will be her fate?” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim kept silent, his sombre eyes lowered to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, Monsieur,” continued Gerfaut, with great emotion; “when I + said to you, ‘She is not guilty,’ you did not believe me, and I despair of + ever persuading you, for I know well what your suspicions must be. + However, these are the last words addressed to you that will leave my + mouth, and you know that one has to believe a dying man’s statement. If + tomorrow you avenge yourself, I earnestly beg of you, let this reparation + suffice. All my pride is gone, you see, since I beg this of you upon my + bended knees. Be humane toward her; spare her, Monsieur. It is not pardon + which I ask you to grant her—it is pity for her unsullied innocence. + Treat her kindly—honorably. Do not make her too wretched.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, for his voice failed him, and his eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “I know what I ought to do,” replied the Baron, in as harsh a tone as + Gerfaut’s had been tender; “I am her husband, and I do not recognize + anybody’s right, yours least of all, to interpose between us.” + </p> + <p> + “I can foresee the fate which you have in reserve for her,” replied the + lover, indignantly; “you will not murder her, for that would be too + imprudent; what would become of your vaunted honor then? But you will + slowly kill her; you will make her die a new death every day, in order to + satisfy a blind vengeance. You are a man to meditate over each new torture + as calmly as you have regulated every detail of our duel.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim, instead of replying, lighted a candle as if to put an end to + this discussion. + </p> + <p> + “Until to-morrow, Monsieur,” said he, with a cold air. + </p> + <p> + “One moment!” exclaimed Gerfaut, as he arose; “you refuse to give me one + word which will assure me of the fate of the woman whose life I have + ruined?” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then; I will protect her, and I will do it in spite of you and + against you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not another word,” interrupted the Baron, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Octave leaned over the table between them and looked at him for a moment, + then said in a terrible voice: + </p> + <p> + “You killed Lambernier!” + </p> + <p> + Christian bounded backward as if he had been struck. + </p> + <p> + “I was a witness of that murder,” continued Gerfaut, slowly, as he + emphasized each word; “I will write my deposition and give it to a man of + whom I am as sure as of myself. If I die to-morrow, I will leave him a + mission which no effort on your part will prevent him from fulfilling. He + shall watch over your slightest actions with inexorable vigilance; he will + be Madame de Bergenheim’s protector, if you forget that your first duty is + to protect her. The day upon which you abuse your position with her, the + day when she shall call out despairingly, ‘Help me!’ that day shall my + deposition be placed in the hands of the public prosecutor at Nancy. He + will believe its contents; of that you may be certain. Besides, the river + is an indiscreet tomb; before long it will give up the body you have + confided to it. You will be tried and condemned. You know the punishment + for murder! It is hard labor for life.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim darted toward the mantel at these words and seized a + hunting-knife which hung there. Octave, as he saw him ready to strike, + crossed his arms upon his breast, and said, coldly: + </p> + <p> + “Remember that my body might embarrass you; one corpse is enough.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron threw the weapon on the floor with such force that he broke it + in two. + </p> + <p> + “But it was you,” he said, in a trembling voice, “you were Lambernier’s + assassin. I—He knew this infamous secret, and his death was + involuntary on my part.” + </p> + <p> + “The intention is of little account. The deed is the question. There is + not a jury that would not condemn you, and that is what I wish, for such a + sentence would bring a legal separation between you and your wife and give + her her liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not speaking seriously,” said Christian, turning pale; “you, a + gentleman, would not denounce me! And, besides, would not my being + sentenced injure the woman in whom you take so much interest?” + </p> + <p> + “I know all that,” Gerfaut replied; “I too cling to the honor of my name, + and yet I expose it. I have plenty of enemies who will be glad enough to + outrage my memory. Public opinion will condemn me, for they will see only + the action, and that is odious. There is one thing, however, more precious + and necessary to me than the world’s opinion, and that is peace for every + day, the right to live; and that is the reason why, happiness having + forsaken me, I am going to bequeath it to the one whom fate has put in + your power, but whom I shall not leave to your mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am her husband,” Bergenheim replied, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are her husband; so the law is on your side. You have only to + call upon society for its aid; it will come but too gladly at your call + and help you crush a defenceless woman. And I, who love her as you have + never known how to love her, I can do nothing for her! Living, I must keep + silent and bow before your will; but dead, your absurd laws no longer + exist for me; dead, I can place myself between you and her, and I will do + it. Since, in order to aid her, I have no choice of arms, I will not + recoil from the one weapon which presents itself. Yes, if in order to save + her from your vengeance, I am obliged to resort to the shame of a + denunciation, I swear to you here, I will turn informer. I will sully my + name with this stain; I will pick up this stone from the mud, and I will + crush your head with it.” + </p> + <p> + “These are a coward’s words!” exclaimed Christian, as he fell back in his + chair. + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut looked at him with a calm, stony glance, while replying: + </p> + <p> + “No insults, please! One of us will not be living to-morrow. Remember what + I tell you: if I fall in this duel, it will be to your interest to have + this matter stop then and there. I submit to death myself; but I exact + liberty for her—liberty, with peace and respect. Think it over, + Monsieur; at the first outrage, I shall arise from my tomb to prevent a + second, and dig a trench between you and her which never can be crossed\—the + penitentiary!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. A FRIEND’S ADVICE + </h2> + <p> + After she came out of her faint, Madame de Bergenheim remained for a long + time in a dazed condition, and did not realize, save in a confused manner, + her real position. She saw vaguely, at her first glance, the curtains of + the bed upon which she lay, and thought that she had awakened from an + ordinary sleep. Little by little, her thoughts became clearer, and she saw + that she was fully dressed, also that her room seemed brighter than it + usually was with only her night-lamp lighted. She noticed between the + half-open curtains a gigantic form reflected almost to the ceiling + opposite her bed. She sat up and distinctly saw a man sitting in the + corner by the fireplace. Frozen with terror, she fell back upon her pillow + as she recognized her husband. Then she remembered everything, even the + slightest details of the scene in the small parlor. She felt ready to + faint again when she heard Christian’s steps upon the carpet, although he + walked with great precaution. + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked at her a moment, and then, opening the bed-curtains, he + said: + </p> + <p> + “You can not pass the night thus, it is nearly three o’clock. You must go + to bed as usual.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence shivered at these words, whose accent, however, was not hard. She + obeyed mechanically; but she had hardly risen when she was obliged to + recline upon the bed, for her trembling limbs would not support her. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be afraid of me,” said Bergenheim, drawing back a few steps; “my + presence should not frighten you. I only wish that people should know that + I have passed the night in your chamber, for it is possible that my return + may arouse suspicion. You know that our love is only a comedy played for + the benefit of our servants.” + </p> + <p> + There was such affected lightness in these remarks that the young woman + was cut to the very quick. She had expected an explosion of anger, but not + this calm contempt. Her revolted pride gave her courage. + </p> + <p> + “I do not deserve to be treated thus,” said she; “do not condemn me + without a hearing.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask nothing of you,” replied Christian, who seated himself again beside + the mantel; “undress yourself, and go to sleep if it is possible for you + to do so. It is not necessary for Justine to make any comments tomorrow + about your day clothes not having been removed.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of obeying him, she went toward him and tried to remain standing + in order to speak to him, but her emotion was so intense that it took away + her strength and she was obliged to sit down. + </p> + <p> + “You treat me too cruelly, Christian,” said she, when she had succeeded to + recover her voice. “I am not guilty; at least, not so much as you think I + am—” said she, drooping her head. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her attentively for a moment, and then replied, in a voice + which did not betray the slightest emotion: + </p> + <p> + “You must know that my greatest desire is to be persuaded of this by you. + I know that too often appearances are deceitful; perhaps you will be able + to explain to me what took place last evening; I am still inclined to + believe your word. Swear to me that you do not love Monsieur de Gerfaut.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it!” said she, in a weak voice, and without raising her eyes. + </p> + <p> + He went to the bed and took down a little silver crucifix which was + hanging above it. + </p> + <p> + “Swear it to me upon this crucifix,” said he, presenting it to his wife. + </p> + <p> + She tried in vain to raise her hand, which seemed fastened to the arm of + her chair. + </p> + <p> + “I swear it!” she stammered a second time, while her face became as pale + as death. + </p> + <p> + A savage laugh escaped Christian’s lips. He put the crucifix in its place + again without saying a word, then he opened the secret panel and, taking + out the casket, placed it upon the table before his wife. She made a + movement as if to seize it, but her courage failed her. + </p> + <p> + “You have perjured yourself to your husband and to God!” said Bergenheim + slowly. “Do you know what kind of woman you are?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence remained for some time powerless to reply; her respiration was so + painful that each breath seemed like suffocation; her head, after rolling + about on the back of the chair, fell upon her breast, like a blade of + grass broken and bruised by the rain. + </p> + <p> + “If you have read those letters,” she murmured, when she had strength + enough to speak, “you must know that I am not as unworthy as you think. I + am very guilty—but I still have a right to be forgiven.” + </p> + <p> + Christian, at this moment, had he been gifted with the intelligence which + fathoms the mysteries of the heart, might have renewed the bonds which + were so near being broken; he could at least have stopped Clemence upon a + dangerous path and saved her from a most irreparable fall. But his nature + was too unrefined for him to see the degrees which separate weakness from + vice, and the intoxication of a loving heart from the depravity of a + corrupt character. With the obstinacy of narrow-minded people, he had been + looking at the whole thing in its worst light, and for several hours + already he had decided upon his wife’s guilt in his own mind; this served + now as a foundation for his stern conduct. His features remained perfectly + impassive as he listened to Clemence’s words of justification, which she + uttered in a weak, broken voice. + </p> + <p> + “I know that I merit your hatred-but if you could know how much I suffer, + you would surely forgive me—You left me in Paris very young, + inexperienced; I ought to have fought against this feeling better than I + did, but I used up in this struggle all the strength that I had—You + can see how pale and changed I have become within the past year. I have + aged several years in those few months; I am not yet what you call a—a + lost woman. He ought to have told you that—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he has! of course he has,” replied Christian with bitter irony. “Oh, + you have in him a loyal cavalier!” + </p> + <p> + “You do not believe me, then! you do not believe me!” she continued, + wringing her hands in despair; “but read these letters, the last ones. See + whether one writes like this to a woman who is entirely lost—” + </p> + <p> + She tried to take the package which her husband held; instead of giving + the letters to her, he lighted them at the candle and then threw them into + the fireplace. Clemence uttered a cry and darted forward to save them, but + Christian’s iron hand seized her and pushed her back into her chair. + </p> + <p> + “I understand how much you care for this correspondence,” said he, in a + more excited tone, “but you are more loving than prudent. Let me destroy + one witness which accuses you. Do you know that I have already killed a + man on account of these letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Killed!” exclaimed Madame de Bergenheim, whom this word drove almost to + madness, for she could not understand its real meaning and applied it to + her lover. “Well, then, kill me too, for I lied when I said that I + repented. I do not repent! I am guilty! I deceived you! I love him and I + abhor you; I love him! kill me!” + </p> + <p> + She fell upon her knees before him and dragged herself along the floor, + striking her head upon it as if she wished to break it. Christian raised + her and seated her in the chair, in spite of her resistance. She struggled + in her husband’s arms, and the only words which she uttered were: “I love + him! kill me! I love him! kill me!” + </p> + <p> + Her grief was so intense that Bergenheim really pitied her. + </p> + <p> + “You did not understand me,” he said, “he is not the man I killed.” + </p> + <p> + She became motionless, dumb. He left her then, from a feeling of + compassion, and returned to his seat. They remained for some time seated + in this way, one on each side of the fireplace; he, with his head leaning + against the mantel; she, crouched in her chair with her face concealed + behind her hands; only the striking of the clock interrupted this silence + and lulled their gloomy thoughts with its monotonous vibrations. + </p> + <p> + A sharp, quick sound against one of the windows interrupted this sad + scene. Clemence arose suddenly as if she had received a galvanic shock; + her frightened eyes met her husband’s. He made an imperious gesture with + his hand as if to order silence, and both listened attentively and + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + The same noise was heard a second time. A rattling against the blinds was + followed by a dry, metallic sound, evidently caused by the contact of some + body against the window. + </p> + <p> + “It is some signal,” said Christian in a low voice, as he looked at his + wife. “You probably know what it means.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not, I swear to you,” replied Clemence, her heart throbbing with a + new emotion. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you, then; he is there and he has something to say to you. + Rise and open the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Open the window?” said she, with a frightened look. + </p> + <p> + “Do what I tell you. Do you wish him to pass the night under your window, + so that the servants may see him?” + </p> + <p> + At this command, spoken in a severe tone, she arose. Noticing that their + shadows might be seen from the outside when the curtains were drawn, + Bergenheim changed the candles to another place. Clemence walked slowly + toward the window; she had hardly opened it, when a purse fell upon the + floor. + </p> + <p> + “Close it now,” said the Baron. While his wife was quietly obeying, he + picked up the purse, and opening it, took the following note from it: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I have ruined you—you for whom I would gladly have died! But of + what use are regrets and despair now? And my blood will not wipe + away your tears. Our position is so frightful that I tremble so + speak of it. I ought to tell you the truth, however, horrible as it + may be. Do not curse me, Clemence; do not impute to me this + fatality, which obliges me thus to torture you. In a few hours I + shall have expiated the wrongs of my love, or you yourself may be + free. Free! pardon me for using this word; I know it is an odious + one to you, but I am too troubled to find another. Whatever + happens, I am about to put within your reach the only aid which it + is possible for me to offer you; it will at least give you a choice + of unhappiness. If you never see me again, to live with him will be + a torture beyond your strength, perhaps, for you love me. I do not + know how to express my thoughts, and I dare not offer you advice or + entreat you. All that I feel is the necessity of telling you that + my whole life belongs to you, that I am yours until death; but I + hardly dare have the courage to lay at your feet the offering of a + destiny already so sad, and which may soon be stained with blood. + A fatal necessity sometimes imposes actions which public opinion + condemns, but the heart excuses, for it alone understands them. + Do not be angry at what you are about to read; never did words like + these come out of a more desolate heart. During the whole day a + post-chaise will wait for you at the rear of the Montigny plateau; + a fire lighted upon the rock which you can see from your room will + notify you of its presence. In a short time it can reach the Rhine. + A person devoted to you will accompany you to Munich, to the house + of one of my relatives, whose character and position will assure you + sufficient protection from all tyranny. There, at least, you will + be permitted to weep. That is all that I can do for you. My heart + is broken when I think of the powerlessness of my love. They say + that when one crushes the scorpion which has wounded him, he is + cured; even my death will not repair the wrong that I have done you; + it will only be one grief the more. Can you understand how + desperate is the feeling which I experience now? For months past, + to be loved by you has been the sole desire of my heart, and now I + must repent ever having attained it. Out of pity for you, I ought + to wish that you did love me with a love as perishable as my life, + so that a remembrance of me would leave you in peace. All this is + so sad that I have not the courage to continue. Adieu, Clemence! + Once more, one last time, I must say: I love you! and yet, I dare + not. I feel unworthy to speak to you thus, for my love has become a + disastrous gift. Did I not ruin you? The only word that seems to + be permissible is the one that even a murderer dares to address to + his God: pardon me!” + </pre> + <p> + After reading this, the Baron passed the letter to his wife without saying + a word, and resumed his sombre attitude. + </p> + <p> + “You see what he asks of you?” he said, after a rather long pause, as he + observed the dazed way in which Madame de Bergenheim’s eyes wandered over + this letter. + </p> + <p> + “My head is bewildered,” she replied, “I do not understand what he says—Why + does he speak of death?” + </p> + <p> + Christian’s lips curled disdainfully as he answered: + </p> + <p> + “It does not concern you; one does not kill women.” + </p> + <p> + “They need it not to die,” replied Clemence, who gazed at her husband with + wild, haggard eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are going to fight?” she added, after a moment’s pause. + </p> + <p> + “Really, have you divined as much?” he replied, with an ironical smile; + “it is a wonderful thing how quick is your intelligence! You have spoken + the truth. You see, each of us has his part to play. The wife deceives her + husband; the husband fights with the lover, and the lover in order to + close the comedy in a suitable manner—proposes to run away with the + wife, for that is the meaning of his letter, notwithstanding all his + oratorical precautions.” + </p> + <p> + “You are going to fight!” she exclaimed, with the energy of despair. “You + are going to fight! And for me—unworthy and miserable creature that + I am! What have you done? And is he not free to love? I alone am the + guilty one, I alone have offended you, and I alone deserve punishment. Do + with me what you will; shut me up in a convent or a cell; bring me poison, + I will drink it.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron burst into sardonic laughter. + </p> + <p> + “So you are afraid that I shall kill, him?” said he, gazing at her + intently, with his arms crossed upon his breast. + </p> + <p> + “I fear for you, for us all. Do you think that I can live after causing + blood to be shed? If there must be a victim, take me—or, at least, + begin with me. Have pity! tell me that you will not fight.” + </p> + <p> + “But think—there is an even chance that you may be set free!” said + he. + </p> + <p> + “Spare me!” she murmured, shivering with horror. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pity that blood must be shed, is it not?” said Bergenheim, in a + mocking tone; “adultery would be pleasant but for that. I am sure that you + think me coarse and brutal to look upon your honor as a serious thing, + when you do not do so yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I entreat you!” + </p> + <p> + “I am the one who has to entreat you. This astonishes you, does it not?—While + I live, I shall protect your reputation in spite of yourself; but if I + die, try to guard it yourself. Content yourself with having betrayed me; + do not outrage my memory. I am glad now that we have no children, for I + should fear for them, and should feel obliged to deprive you of their care + as much as lay in my power. That is one trouble the less. But as you bear + my name, and I can not take it away from you, I beg of you do not drag it + in the mire when I shall not be here to wash it for you.” + </p> + <p> + The young woman fell back upon her seat as if every fibre in her body had + been successively torn to pieces. + </p> + <p> + “You crush me to the earth!” she said, feebly. + </p> + <p> + “This revolts you,” continued the husband, who seemed to choose the most + cutting thrust; “you are young; this is your first error, you are not made + for such adventures. But rest assured, one becomes accustomed to + everything. A lover always knows how to find the most beautiful phrases + with which to console a widow and vanquish her repugnances.” + </p> + <p> + “You are killing me,” she murmured, falling back almost unconscious in her + chair. + </p> + <p> + Christian leaned over her, and, taking her by the arm, said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Remember, if I die and he asks you to follow him, you will be an infamous + creature if you obey him. He is a man to glory in you; that is easy enough + to see. He is a man who would drag you after him—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! have pity—I shall die—” + </p> + <p> + Clemence closed her eyes and her lips twitched convulsively. + </p> + <p> + The first rays of the morning sun fell upon another scene in the opposite + wing of the chateau. Marillac was quietly sleeping the sleep of the just + when he was suddenly awakened by a shaking that nearly threw him out of + his bed. + </p> + <p> + “Go to the devil!” he said, angrily, when he succeeded in half opening his + heavy eyes, and recognized Gerfaut standing beside his bed. + </p> + <p> + “Get up!” said the latter, taking him by the arm to give more force to his + command. + </p> + <p> + The artist covered himself with the clothes up to his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Are you walking in your sleep or insane?” asked Marillac, “or do you want + me to go to work?” he added, as he saw that his friend had some papers in + his hand. “You know very well I never have any ideas when fasting, and + that I am stupid until noon.” + </p> + <p> + “Get up at once!” said Gerfaut, “I must have a talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + There was something so serious and urgent in Gerfaut’s accent as he said + these words, that the artist got up at once and hurriedly dressed himself. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” he asked, as he put on his dressing-gown, “you look + as if the affairs of the nation rested upon you.” + </p> + <p> + “Put on your coat and boots,” said Octave, “you must go to La Fauconnerie. + They are used to seeing you go out early in the morning for your + appointments with Reine, and therefore—” + </p> + <p> + “It is to this shepherdess you would send me!” interrupted the artist, as + he began to undress himself; “in that case I will go to bed again. Enough + of that!” + </p> + <p> + “I am to fight with Bergenheim at nine o’clock!” said Gerfaut, in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Stupendous!” exclaimed Marillac, as he jumped back a few steps, and then + stood as motionless as a statue. Without wasting any time in unnecessary + explanations, his friend gave him a brief account of the night’s events. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “I need you; can I count upon your friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “In life and in death!” exclaimed Marillac, and he pressed his hand with + the emotion that the bravest of men feel at the approach of a danger which + threatens one who is dear to them. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Gerfaut, as he handed him the papers in his hand, “is a + letter for you in which you will find my instructions in full; they will + serve you as a guide, according to circumstances. This sealed paper will + be deposited by you in the office of the public prosecutor at Nancy, under + certain circumstances which my note explains. Finally, this is my will. I + have no very near relative; I have made you my heir. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me! I do not know a more honest man than you, that is the + reason why I select you. First, this legacy is a trust. I speak to you now + in case of events which probably will never happen, but which I ought to + prepare for. I do not know what effect this may have upon Clemence’s fate; + her aunt, who is very austere, may quarrel with her and deprive her of her + rights; her personal fortune is not very large, I believe, and I know + nothing about her marriage settlement. She may thus be entirely at her + husband’s mercy, and that is what I will not allow. My fortune is + therefore a trust that you will hold to be placed at her disposal at any + time. I hope that she loves me enough not to refuse this service of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well and good!” said Marillac; “I will admit that the thought of + inheriting from you choked me like a noose around my neck.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you to accept for yourself my copyrights as author. You can not + refuse that,” said Gerfaut, with a half smile; “this legacy belongs to the + domain of art. To whom should I leave it if not to you, my Patroclus, my + faithful collaborator?” + </p> + <p> + The artist took several agitated turns about his room. + </p> + <p> + “To think,” he exclaimed, “that I was the one who saved this Bergenheim’s + life! If he kills you, I shall never forgive myself. And yet, I told you + this would end in some tragic manner.” + </p> + <p> + “What business had he there? Is it not so? What can I say? We were seeking + for a drama; here it is. I am not anxious on my own account, but on hers. + Unhappy woman! A duel is a stone that might fall upon a man’s head twenty + times a day; it is sufficient for a simpleton if you stare at him, or for + an awkward fellow if you tread upon his toes; but on her account—poor + angel!—I can not think of it. I need the fullest command of my head + and my heart. But it is growing lighter; there is not a moment to lose. Go + to the stable; saddle a horse yourself, if there is no servant up; go, as + I said, to La Fauconnerie; I have often seen a post-chaise in the tavern + courtyard; order it to wait all day at the back of the Montigny plateau. + You will find everything explained in detail in the note which I have + given you. Here is my purse; I need no money.” + </p> + <p> + Marillac put the purse in his pocket and the papers in his + memorandum-book; he then buttoned up his redingote and put on his + travelling cap. His countenance showed a state of exaltation which belied, + for the time being, the pacific theories he had expounded a few days + before. + </p> + <p> + “You can depend upon me as upon yourself,” said he with energy. “If this + poor woman calls for my aid, I promise you that I will serve her + faithfully. I will take her wherever she wishes; to China, if she asks it, + and in spite of the whole police force. If Bergenheim kills you and then + follows her up, there will be another duel.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, he took his stiletto and a pair of pistols from + the mantel and put them in his pocket, after examining the edge of the one + and the caps of the others. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu!” said Gerfaut. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu!” said the artist, whose extreme agitation contrasted strongly with + his friend’s calm. “Rest easy! I will look after her—and I will + publish a complete edition—But what an idea—to accept a duel + as irregular as this! Have you ever seen him use a gun? He had no right to + exact this.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurry! you must leave before the servants are up.” + </p> + <p> + “Kiss me, my poor fellow!” said Marillac, with tears in his eyes; “it is + not very manly I know, but I can not help it—Oh! these women! I + adore them, of course; but just now I am like Nero, I wish that they all + had but one head. It is for these little, worthless dolls that we kill + each other!” + </p> + <p> + “You can curse them on your way,” said Gerfaut, who was impatient to see + him leave. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good gracious, yes! They can flatter themselves this moment that they + all inspire me with a deadly hatred.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not make any noise,” said his friend, as he carefully opened the door. + </p> + <p> + Marillac pressed his hand for the last time, and went out. When he reached + the end of the corridor, he stopped a moment, then went back. + </p> + <p> + “Above all things,” said he, as he passed his head through the half-open + door, “no foolish proceedings. Remember that it is necessary that one of + you should fall, and that if you fail; he will not. Take your time—aim—and + fire at him as you would at a rabbit.” + </p> + <p> + After this last piece of advice, he went away; ten minutes after he had + left, Gerfaut saw him riding out of the courtyard as fast as Beverley’s + four legs would carry him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. THE WILD BOAR + </h2> + <p> + The most radiant sun that ever gilded a beautiful September day had arisen + upon the castle. The whole valley was as fresh and laughing as a young + girl who had just left her bath. The rocks seemed to have a band of silver + surrounding them; the woods a mantle of green draped over their shoulders. + </p> + <p> + There was an unusual excitement in the courtyard of the chateau. The + servants were coming and going, the dogs were starting a concert of + irregular barks, and the horses were jumping about, sharing their + instinctive presentiment and trying to break away from the bridles which + held them. + </p> + <p> + The Baron, seated in his saddle with his usual military attitude, and a + cigar in his mouth, went from one to another, speaking in a joking tone + which prevented anybody from suspecting his secret thoughts. Gerfaut had + imposed upon his countenance that impassible serenity which guards the + heart’s inner secrets, but had not succeeded so well. His affectation of + gayety betrayed continual restraint; the smile which he forced upon his + lips left the rest of his face cold, and never removed the wrinkle between + his brows. An incident, perhaps sadly longed for, but unhoped for, + increased this gloomy, melancholy expression. Just as the cavalcade passed + before the English garden, which separated the sycamore walk from the wing + of the chateau occupied by Madame de Bergenheim, Octave slackened the pace + of his horse and lingered behind the rest of his companions; his eyes + closely examined each of the windows; the blinds of her sleeping-room were + only half closed; behind the panes he saw the curtains move and then + separate. A pale face appeared for a moment between the blue folds, like + an angel who peeps through the sky to gaze upon the earth. Gerfaut raised + himself on his stirrups so as to drink in this apparition as long as + possible, but he dared not make one gesture of adieu. As he was still + endeavoring to obtain one more glance, he saw that the Baron was at his + side. + </p> + <p> + “Play your role better,” said he to him; “we are surrounded by spies. De + Camier has already made an observation about your preoccupied demeanor.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Octave; “and you join example to advice. I admire + your coolness, but I despair of equalling it.” + </p> + <p> + “You must mingle with my guests and talk with them,” Christian replied. + </p> + <p> + He started off at a trot; Gerfaut followed his example, stifling a sigh as + he darted a last glance toward the chateau. They soon rejoined the cart + which carried several of the hunters, and which Monsieur de Camier drove + with the assurance of a professional coachman. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence, broken only by the trot of the horses and + the sound of the wheels upon the level ground. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil ails your dogs?” exclaimed Monsieur de Camier suddenly, as + he turned to the Baron, who was riding behind him. “There they are all + making for the river.” Just at this moment the dogs, who could be seen in + the distance, hurried to the water-side, in spite of all that their leader + could do to prevent them. They almost disappeared behind the willows that + bordered the river, and one could hear them barking furiously; their barks + sounded like rage mingled with terror. + </p> + <p> + “It is some duck that they have scented,” observed the prosecutor. + </p> + <p> + “They wouldn’t bark like that,” said Monsieur de Camier, with the sagacity + of a professional hunter; “if it were a wolf, they could not make a + greater uproar. Is it by chance some wild boar who is taking a bath, in + order to receive us more ceremoniously?” + </p> + <p> + He gave the horses a vigorous blow from the whip, and they all rapidly + approached the spot where a scene was taking place which excited to the + highest pitch everybody’s curiosity. Before they reached the spot, the + keeper, who had run after the dogs to call them together, came out of a + thicket, waving his hat to stop the hunters, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “A body! a body!” + </p> + <p> + “A body! a drowned man!” he exclaimed, when the vehicle stopped. + </p> + <p> + This time it was the public prosecutor who arose and jumped from the cart + with the agility of a deer. + </p> + <p> + “A drowned man!” said he. “In the name of the law, let nobody touch the + body. Call back the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words he hastened to the spot which the servant pointed + out to him. Everybody dismounted and followed him. Octave and Bergenheim + had exchanged strange glances when they heard the servant’s words. + </p> + <p> + It was, as the servant had announced, the battered body of a man, thrown + by the current against the trunk of the tree, and there caught between two + branches of the willow as if in a vise. + </p> + <p> + “It is the carpenter!” exclaimed Monsieur de Camier as he parted the + foliage, which had prevented the head from being seen until then, for he + recognized the workman’s livid, swollen features. “It is that poor devil + of a Lambernier, is it not, Bergenheim?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true!” stammered Christian, who, in spite of his boldness, could + not help turning away his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The carpenter!—drowned!—this is frightful!—I never + should have recognized him—how disfigured he is!” exclaimed the + others, as they pressed forward to gaze at this horrible spectacle. + </p> + <p> + “This is a sad way to escape justice,” observed the notary, in a + philosophical tone. + </p> + <p> + The Baron seized this opening with avidity. + </p> + <p> + “He must have crossed the river to escape,” said he, “and in his haste he + made a misstep and fell.” + </p> + <p> + The public prosecutor shook his head with an air of doubt. + </p> + <p> + “That is not probable,” said he; “I know the place. If he tried to cross + the river a little above or a little below the rock—it doesn’t + matter which—the current would have carried him into the little bay + above the rock and not here. It is evident that he must have drowned + himself or been drowned farther down. I say, been drowned, for you can see + that he has a wound upon the left side of his forehead, as if he had + received a violent blow, or his head had, hit against a hard substance. + Now, if he had been drowned accidentally while crossing the river, he + would not have been wounded in this manner.” + </p> + <p> + This remark silenced the Baron; and while the others exhausted conjectures + to explain the way in which this tragic event had taken place, he stood + motionless, with his eyes fastened upon the river and avoiding a glance at + the dead body. During this time the public prosecutor had taken from his + pocket some paper and a pen, which he usually carried with him. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said he, seating himself upon the trunk of a tree opposite + the drowned man, “two of you will do me the favor to act as witnesses + while I draw up my official report. If any of you have a statement to make + in regard to this affair, I beg of him to remain here, so that I may + receive his deposition.” + </p> + <p> + Nobody stirred, but Gerfaut threw such a penetrating glance at the Baron + that the latter turned away his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” continued the magistrate, “I do not wish any of you to + renounce the sport on account of this untoward incident. There is nothing + attractive about this spectacle, and I assure you that if my duty did not + keep me here, I should be the first to withdraw. Baron, I beg of you to + send me two men and a stretcher in order to have the body carried away; I + will have it taken to one of your farms, so as not to frighten the + ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “The prosecutor is right,” said Christian, whom these words delivered from + a terrible anxiety. + </p> + <p> + After a deliberation, presided over by Monsieur de Camier, the ‘tragueurs’ + and the dogs left in silence to surround the thickets where the animal had + been found to be hidden. At the same time the hunters turned their steps + in the opposite direction in order to take their positions. They soon + reached the ditch alongside of which they were to place themselves. From + time to time, as they advanced, one of them left the party and remained + mute and motionless like a sentinel at his post. This manoeuvre gradually + reduced their numbers, and at last there were only three remaining. + </p> + <p> + “You remain here, Camier,” said the Baron, when they were about sixty + steps from the last position. + </p> + <p> + That gentleman, who knew the ground, was hardly flattered by this + proposition. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said he, “you are on your own grounds; you ought at least to do + the honors of your woods and let us choose our own positions. I think you + wish to place yourself upon the outskirts, because it is always about that + region that the animal first appears; but there will be two of us, for I + shall go also.” + </p> + <p> + This determination annoyed Christian considerably, since it threatened to + ruin the plan so prudently laid out. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to put our friend Gerfaut at this post,” said he, whispering + to the refractory hunter; “I shall be very much pleased if he has an + opportunity to fire. What difference does one boar more or less make to an + old hunter like you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well and good; just as you like,” retorted Monsieur de Carrier, striking + the ground with the butt-end of his gun, and beginning to whistle in order + to cool off his anger. + </p> + <p> + When the adversaries found themselves side by side and alone, Bergenheim’s + countenance changed suddenly; the smiling look he had assumed, in order to + convince the old hunter of his cheerful disposition, gave place to deep + gravity. + </p> + <p> + “You remember our agreement,” he said, as they walked along; “I feel sure + that the boar will come in our direction. At the moment when I call out, + ‘Take care!’ I shall expect you to fire; if, at the end of twenty seconds, + you have not done so, I warn you that I shall fire myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Monsieur,” said Gerfaut, looking at him fixedly; “you also + doubtless remember my words; the discovery of this body will give them + still more weight. The public prosecutor has already begun his preliminary + proceedings; remember that it depends on me how they shall be completed. + The deposition which I spoke to you about is in the hands of a safe + person, who is fully instructed to make use of it if necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Marillac, I suppose,” said Christian, in an evil tone; “he is your + confidant. It is a fatal secret that you have confided to him, Monsieur. + If I survive today, I shall have to secure his silence. May all this + blood, past, present, and future, be on your head!” + </p> + <p> + Deeply affected by this reproach, the Vicomte bowed his head in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Here is my place,” said the Baron, stopping before the trunk of an old + oak, “and there is the elm where you are to station yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Gerfaut stopped, and said, in a trembling voice: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, one of us will not leave these woods alive. In the presence of + death, one tells the truth. I hope for your peace of mind, and my own, + that you will believe my last words. I swear to you, upon my honor and by + all that is sacred, that Madame de Bergenheim is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed, and withdrew from Christian without waiting for a response. + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim and Gerfaut were out of sight of the others, and stood at their + posts with eyes fastened upon each other. The ditch was wide enough to + prevent the branches of the trees from troubling them; at the distance of + sixty feet, which separated them, each could see his adversary standing + motionless, framed by the green foliage. Suddenly, barking was heard in + the distance, partially drowned by the firing of a gun. A few seconds + later, two feeble reports were heard, followed by an imprecation from + Monsieur de Camier, whose caps flashed in the pan. The Baron, who had just + leaned forward that he might see better through the thicket, raised his + hand to warn Octave to hold himself in readiness. He then placed himself + in position. An extreme indecision marked Gerfaut’s attitude. After + raising his gun, he dropped it to the ground with a despondent gesture, as + if his resolution to fire had suddenly abandoned him; the pallor of death + could not be more terrible than that which overspread his features. The + howling of the dogs and shouts of the hunters increased. Suddenly another + sound was heard. Low, deep growls, followed by the crackling of branches, + came from the woods opposite our adversaries. The whole thicket seemed to + tremble as if agitated by a storm. + </p> + <p> + “Take care!” exclaimed Bergenheim, in a firm voice. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment an enormous head appeared, and the report of a gun was + heard. When Gerfaut looked through the smoke caused by his gun, at the + farther end of the ditch, nothing was to be seen but the foliage. + </p> + <p> + The boar, after crossing the clearing, vanished like a flash, leaving + behind him a trail of broken branches—and Bergenheim lay behind the + trunk of the old oak, upon which large drops of blood had already fallen. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. BERGENHEIM’S REVENGE + </h2> + <p> + On the same morning the drawing-room of the Bergenheim castle was the + theatre of a quiet home scene very much like the one we described at the + beginning of this story. Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was seated in her + armchair reading the periodicals which had just arrived; Aline was + practising upon the piano, and her sister-in-law was seated before one of + the windows embroidering. By the calm attitude of these three ladies, and + the interest they seemed to show in their several occupations, one would + have supposed that they were all equally peaceful at heart. Madame de + Bergenheim, upon rising, had resumed her usual habits; she managed to find + the proper words to reply when spoken to, her dejection did not differ + from her usual melancholy enough for it to become the subject of remark. A + rather bright color in her cheeks heightened her beauty; her eyes never + had sparkled with more brilliancy; but if a hand had been placed upon her + forehead, one would have soon discovered by its burning the secret of all + this unwonted color. In fact, in the midst of this sumptuous room, + surrounded by her friends, and bending over her embroidery with most + exquisite grace, Madame de Bergenheim was slowly dying. A wasting fever + was circulating like poison through her veins. She felt that an unheard-of + sorrow was hanging over her head, and that no effort of hers could prevent + it. + </p> + <p> + At this very moment, either the man she belonged to or the one she loved + was about to die; whatever her widowhood might be, she felt that her + mourning would be brief; young, beautiful, surrounded by all the + privileges of rank and fortune, life was closing around her, and left but + one pathway open, which was full of blood; she would have to bathe her + feet in it in order to pass through. + </p> + <p> + “What is that smoke above the Montigny rock?” Aline exclaimed with + surprise; “it looks as if there were a fire in the woods.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim raised her eyes, shivered from head to foot as she + saw the stream of smoke which stood out against the horizon, and then let + her head droop upon her breast. Mademoiselle de Corandeuil stopped her + reading as she heard Aline’s remark, and turned slowly to look out of the + window. + </p> + <p> + “That’s some of the shepherds’ work,” said she; “they have built a fire in + the bushes at the risk of setting fire to the whole woods. Really, I do + not know what to think of your husband, Clemence; he takes everybody away + to the hunt with him, and does not leave a soul here to prevent his + dwelling from being devastated.” + </p> + <p> + Clemence made no reply, and her sister-in-law, who expected she would say + something to keep the conversation alive, returned and seated herself at + the piano with a pouting air. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, that will do for to-day!” exclaimed the old lady at the first + notes; “you have split our heads long enough. You would do better to study + your history of France.” + </p> + <p> + Aline closed the piano angrily; but instead of obeying this last piece of + advice, she remained seated upon the stool with the sulky air of a pupil + in disgrace. A deep silence reigned. Madame de Bergenheim had dropped her + embroidery without noticing it. From time to time she trembled as if a + chill passed over her, her eyes were raised to watch the smoke ascending + above the rock, or else she seemed to listen to some imaginary sound. + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, as she laid her journal down in + her lap, “good morals have made great progress since the July revolution. + Yesterday a woman twenty years of age ran away to Montpelier with her + lover; to-day, here is another, in Lyons, who poisons her husband and + kills herself afterward. If I were superstitious, I should say that the + world was coming to an end. What do you think of such atrocious doings, my + dear?” + </p> + <p> + Clemence raised her head with an effort, and answered, in a gloomy voice: + </p> + <p> + “You must pardon her, since she is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very indulgent,” replied the old aunt; “such creatures ought to + be burned alive, like the Brinvilliers.” + </p> + <p> + “They often speak in the papers of husbands who kill their wives, but not + so often of wives killing their husbands,” said Aline, with the partisan + feeling natural to the fair sex. + </p> + <p> + “It is not proper that you should talk of such horrid things,” said the + old lady, in a severe tone; “behold the fruits of all the morals of the + age! It is the effect of all the disgusting stuff that is acted nowadays + upon the stage and written in novels. When one thinks of the fine + education that is given youth at the present time, it is enough to make + one tremble for the future!” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! Mademoiselle, you may be sure that I shall never kill my + husband,” replied the young girl, to whom this remark seemed particularly + addressed. + </p> + <p> + A stifled groan, which Madame de Bergenheim could not suppress, attracted + the attention of the two ladies. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” asked Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, noticing + for the first time her niece’s dejected air and the frightened expression + in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” murmured the latter; “I think it is the heat of the room.” + </p> + <p> + Aline hastily opened a window, then went and took her sister-in-law’s + hands in her own. + </p> + <p> + “You have a fever,” said she; “your hands burn and your forehead also; I + did not dare tell you, but your beautiful color—” + </p> + <p> + A frightful cry which Madame de Bergenheim uttered made the young girl + draw back in fright. + </p> + <p> + “Clemence! Clemence!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who thought + that her niece had gone insane. + </p> + <p> + “Did you not hear?” she cried, with an accent of terror impossible to + describe. She darted suddenly toward the drawing-room door; but, instead + of opening it, she leaned against it with arms crossed. Then she ran two + or three times around the room in a sort of frenzy, and ended by falling + upon her knees before the sofa and burying her head in its cushions. + </p> + <p> + This scene bewildered the two women. While Mademoiselle de Corandeuil + tried to raise Clemence, Aline, still more frightened, ran out of the room + to call for aid. A rumor which had just begun to arise in the courtyard + was distinctly heard when the door was thrown open. A moment more, and a + piercing shriek was heard, and the young girl rushed into the parlor; + throwing herself on her knees beside her sister-in-law she pressed her to + her breast with convulsive energy. + </p> + <p> + As she felt herself seized in this fashion, Clemence raised her head and, + placing her hands upon Aline’s shoulders, she pushed her backward and + gazed at her with eyes that seemed to devour her. + </p> + <p> + “Which? which?” she asked, in a harsh voice. + </p> + <p> + “My brother—covered with blood!” stammered Aline. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim pushed her aside and threw herself upon the sofa. Her + first feeling was a horrible joy at not hearing the name of Octave; but + she tried to smother her hysterical utterances by pressing her mouth + against the cushion upon which her face was leaning. + </p> + <p> + A noise of voices was heard in the vestibule; the greatest confusion + seemed to reign among the people outside. At last, several men entered the + drawing room; at their head was Monsieur de Camier, whose ruddy face had + lost all its color. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be frightened, ladies,” said he, in a trembling voice; “do not be + frightened. It is only a slight accident, without any danger. Monsieur de + Bergenheim was wounded in the hunt,” he continued, addressing Mademoiselle + de Corandeuil. + </p> + <p> + At last, the folding-doors were thrown open, and two servants appeared, + bearing the Baron upon a mattress. + </p> + <p> + When the servants had deposited their burden in front of one of the + windows, Aline threw herself upon her brother’s body, uttering + heartrending cries. Madame de Bergenheim did not stir; she lay upon the + sofa with eyes and ears buried in the cushions, and seemed deaf and blind + to all that surrounded her. Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was the only one + who preserved her presence of mind. Controlling her emotion, she leaned + over the Baron and sought for some sign of life. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” she asked, in a low voice, of Monsieur de Camier. + </p> + <p> + “No, Mademoiselle,” replied the latter, in a tone which announced that he + had little hope. + </p> + <p> + “Has a physician been sent for?” + </p> + <p> + “To Remiremont, Epinal, everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Aline uttered a cry of joy. Bergenheim had just stirred, + brought to life, perhaps, by the pressure of his sister’s arms. He opened + his eyes and, closed them several times; at last his energy triumphed over + his sufferings; he sat up on his improvised cot and, leaning upon his left + elbow, he glanced around the room. + </p> + <p> + “My wife!” said he, in a weak voice. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim arose and forced her way through the group that + surrounded the mattress, and silently took her place beside her husband. + Her features had changed so terribly within a few moments that a murmur of + pity ran through the group of men that filled the room. + </p> + <p> + “Take my sister away,” said Christian, disengaging his hand from the young + girl, who was covering it with kisses and tears. + </p> + <p> + “My brother! I can not leave my brother!” exclaimed Aline, as she was + dragged away rather than led to her room. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me for a moment,” continued the Baron; “I wish to speak to my + wife.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil gave Monsieur de Gamier a questioning glance, + as if to ask if it were best to grant this request. + </p> + <p> + “We can do nothing before the doctors arrive,” said the latter, in a low + voice, “and perhaps it would be imprudent to oppose him.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Corandeuil recognized the correctness of this observation, + and left the room, asking the others to follow her. During this time, + Madame de Bergenheim remained motionless in her place, apparently + insensible to all that surrounded her. The noise of the closing door + aroused her from her stupor. She looked around the room as if she were + seeking the others; her eyes, which were opened with the fixed look of a + somnambulist, did not change their expression when they fell upon her + husband. + </p> + <p> + “Come nearer,” said he, “I have not strength enough to speak loud.” + </p> + <p> + She obeyed mechanically. When she saw the large red stain which had soaked + Christian’s right sleeve, she closed her eyes, threw back her head, and + her features contracted with a horrified expression. + </p> + <p> + “You women are wonderfully fastidious,” said the Baron, as he noticed this + movement; “you delight in causing a murder, but the slightest scratch + frightens you. Pass over to the left side; you will not see so much + blood-besides, it is the side where the heart is.” + </p> + <p> + There was something terrible in the irony of the voice in which he spoke + at this moment. Clemence fell upon her knees beside him and took his hand, + crying, + </p> + <p> + “Pardon! pardon!” + </p> + <p> + The dying man took away his hand, raised his wife’s head, and, looking at + her a few moments attentively, he said at last: + </p> + <p> + “Your eyes are very dry. No tears! What! not one tear when you see me + thus!” + </p> + <p> + “I can not weep,” replied she; “I shall die!” + </p> + <p> + “It is very humiliating for me to be so poorly regretted, and it does you + little honor—try to shed a few tears, Madame—it will be + remarked—a widow who does not weep!” + </p> + <p> + “A widow—never!” she said, with energy. + </p> + <p> + “It would be convenient if they sold tears as they sell crape, would it + not? Ah! only you women have a real talent for that—all women know + how to weep.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not die, Christian—oh! tell me that you will not die—and + that you will forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your lover has killed me,” said Bergenheim, slowly; “I have a bullet in + my chest—I feel it—I am the one who is to die—in less + than an hour I shall be a corpse—don’t you see how hard it is + already for me to talk?” + </p> + <p> + In reality his voice was becoming weaker and weaker. His breath grew + shorter with each word; a wheezing sound within his chest indicated the + extent of the lesion and the continued extravasation of blood. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy! pardon!” exclaimed the unhappy woman, prostrating herself upon the + floor. + </p> + <p> + “More air—open the windows—” said the Baron, as he fell back + upon the mattress, exhausted by the efforts he had just made to talk. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim obeyed his order with the precision of an automaton. + A fresh, pure breeze entered the room; when the curtains were raised, + floods of light illuminated the floor, and the old portraits, suddenly + lighted up, looked like ghosts who had left their graves to witness the + death agonies of the last of their descendants. Christian, refreshed by + the air which swept over his face, sat up again. He gazed with a + melancholy eye at the radiant sun and the green woods which lay stretched + out in front of the chateau. + </p> + <p> + “I lost my father on such a day as this,” said he, as if talking to + himself—“all our family die during the beautiful weather—ah! + do you see that smoke over the Montigny rock?” he exclaimed, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + After opening the windows, Clemence stepped out upon the balcony. Leaning + upon the balustrade, she gazed at the deep, rapid river which flowed at + her feet. Her husband’s voice calling her aroused her from this gloomy + contemplation. When she returned to Christian, his eyes were flaming, a + flush like that of fever had overspread his cheeks, and a writhing, + furious indignation was depicted upon his face. “Were you looking at that + smoke?” said he, angrily; “it is your lover’s signal; he is there—he + is waiting to take you away—and I, your husband, forbid you to go—you + must not leave me—your place is here—close by me.” + </p> + <p> + “Close by you,” she repeated, not understanding what he said. + </p> + <p> + “Wait at least until I am dead,” he continued, while his eyes flashed more + and more—“let my body get cold—when you are a widow you can do + as you like—you will be free—and even then—I forbid it—I + order you to wear mourning for me—above all, try to weep—” + </p> + <p> + “Strike me with a knife! At least I should bleed,” said she, bending + toward him and tearing open her dress to lay bare her bosom. + </p> + <p> + He seized her by the arm, and, exerting all his wasting strength to reach + her, he said, in a voice whose harshness was changed almost into + supplication: + </p> + <p> + “Clemence, do not dishonor me by giving yourself to him when I am dead—I + would curse you if I thought that you would do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do not curse me!” she exclaimed; “do not drive me mad. Do you not + know that I am about to die?” + </p> + <p> + “There are women who do not see their husband’s blood upon their lover’s + hands—but I would curse you—” + </p> + <p> + He dropped Clemence’s arm and fell back upon the mattress with a sob. His + eyes closed, and some unintelligible words died on his lips, which were + covered with a bloody froth. He was dying. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Bergenheim, crouched down upon the floor, heard him repeating in + his expiring voice: + </p> + <p> + “I would curse you—I would curse you!” + </p> + <p> + She remained motionless for some time, her eyes fastened upon the dying + man before her with a look of stupefied curiosity. Then she arose and went + to the mirror; she gazed at herself for a moment as if obeying the whim of + an insane woman, pushing aside, in order to see herself better, the hair + which covered her forehead. Suddenly a flash of reason came to her; she + uttered a horrible cry as she saw some blood upon her face; she looked at + herself from head to foot; her dress was stained with it; she wrung her + hands in horror, and felt that they were wet. Her husband’s blood was + everywhere. Then, her brain filled with the fire of raving madness, she + rushed out upon the balcony, and Bergenheim, before his last breath + escaped him, heard the noise of her body as it fell into the river. + </p> + <p> + Several days later, the Sentinelle des Vosges contained the following + paragraph, written with the official sorrow found in all death-notices at + thirty sous per line: + </p> + <p> + “A frightful event, which has just thrown two of our best families into + mourning, has caused the greatest consternation throughout the Remiremont + district. Monsieur le Baron de Bergenheim, one of the richest land-owners + in our province, was killed by accident at a wild-boar hunt on his own + domains. It was by the hand of one of his best friends, Monsieur de + Gerfaut, well known by, his important literary work, which has given its + author a worldwide reputation, that he received his death-blow. Nothing + could equal the grief of the involuntary cause of this catastrophe. Madame + de Bergenheim, upon learning of this tragic accident, was unable to + survive the death of her adored husband, and drowned herself in her + despair. Thus the same grave received this couple, still in the bloom of + life, to whom their great mutual affection seemed to promise a most happy + future.” + </p> + <p> + Twenty-eight months later the Parisian journals, in their turn, inserted, + with but slight variations, the following article: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could give any idea of the enthusiasm manifested at the + Theatre-Francais last evening, at the first representation of Monsieur de + Gerfaut’s new drama. Never has this writer, whose silence literature has + deplored for too long a time, distinguished himself so highly. His early + departure for the East is announced. Let us hope that this voyage will + turn to the advantage of art, and that the beautiful and sunny countries + of Asia will be a mine for new inspirations for this celebrated poet, who + has taken, in such a glorious manner, his place at the heal of our + literature.” + </p> + <p> + Bergenheim’s last wish had been realized; his honor was secure; nobody + outraged by even an incredulous smile the purity of Clemence’s + winding-sheet; and the world did not refuse to their double grave the + commonplace consideration that had surrounded their lives. + </p> + <p> + Clemence’s death did not destroy the future of the man who loved her so + passionately, but the mourning he wears for her, to this day, is of the + kind that is never put aside. And, as the poet’s heart was always + reflected in his works, the world took part in this mourning without being + initiated into its mystery. When the bitter cup of memory overflowed in + them, they believed it to be a new vein which had opened in the writer’s + brain. Octave received, every day, congratulations upon this sadly + exquisite tone of his lyre, whose vibrations surpassed in supreme + intensity the sighs of Rene or Obermann’s Reveries. Nobody knew that those + sad pages were written under the inspiration of the most mournful of + visions, and that this dark and melancholy tinge, which was taken for a + caprice of the imagination, had its source in blood and in the spasms of a + broken heart. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Antipathy for her husband bordering upon aversion + Attractions that difficulties give to pleasure + Attractive abyss of drunkenness + Consented to become a wife so as not to remain a maiden + Despotic tone which a woman assumes when sure of her empire + Evident that the man was above his costume; a rare thing! + I believed it all; one is so happy to believe! + It is a terrible step for a woman to take, from No to Yes + Lady who requires urging, although she is dying to sing + Let them laugh that win! + Let ultra-modesty destroy poetry + Love is a fire whose heat dies out for want of fuel + Mania for fearing that she may be compromised + Material in you to make one of Cooper’s redskins + Misfortunes never come single + No woman is unattainable, except when she loves another + Obstinacy of drunkenness + Recourse to concessions is often as fatal to women as to kings + Regards his happiness as a proof of superiority + She said yes, so as not to say no + These are things that one admits only to himself + Those whom they most amuse are those who are best worth amusing + Topics that occupy people who meet for the first time + Trying to conceal by a smile (a blush) + When one speaks of the devil he appears + Wiped his nose behind his hat, like a well-bred orator + You are playing ‘who loses wins!’ +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Gerfaut, Complete, by Charles de Bernard + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERFAUT, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3985-h.htm or 3985-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/8/3985/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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