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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #65481 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65481)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gabrielle de Bergerac, by Henry James
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Gabrielle de Bergerac
-
-Author: Henry James
-
-Release Date: May 31, 2021 [eBook #65481]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously
- made available by Hathi Trust Digital Library.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC ***
-
-GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC
-
-
-
-BY HENRY JAMES
-
-
-
-
-NEW YORK
-
-BONI AND LIVERIGHT
-
-1918
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
- PART I
- PART II
- PART III
-
-
-
-
-GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC
-
-
-PART I
-
-
-My good old friend, in his white flannel dressing-gown, with his wig
-"removed," as they say of the dinner-service, by a crimson nightcap, sat
-for some moments gazing into the fire. At last he looked up. I knew what
-was coming. "Apropos, that little debt of mine--"
-
-Not that the debt was really very little. But M. de Bergerac was a man
-of honor, and I knew I should receive my dues. He told me frankly that
-he saw no way, either in the present or the future, to reimburse me in
-cash. His only treasures were his paintings; would I choose one of them?
-Now I had not spent an hour in M. de Bergerac's little parlor twice a
-week for three winters, without learning that the Baron's paintings
-were, with a single exception, of very indifferent merit. On the other
-hand, I had taken a great fancy to the picture thus excepted. Yet, as I
-knew it was a family portrait, I hesitated to claim it. I refused to
-make a choice. M. de Bergerac, however, insisted, and I finally laid my
-finger on the charming image of my friend's aunt. I of course insisted,
-on my side, that M. de Bergerac should retain it during the remainder of
-his life, and so it was only after his decease that I came into
-possession of it. It hangs above my table as I write, and I have only to
-glance up at the face of my heroine to feel how vain it is to attempt to
-describe it. The portrait represents, in dimensions several degrees
-below those of nature, the head and shoulders of a young girl of
-two-and-twenty. The execution of the work is not especially strong, but
-it is thoroughly respectable and one may easily see that the painter
-deeply appreciated the character of the face. The countenance is
-interesting rather than beautiful,--the forehead broad and open, the
-eyes slightly prominent, all the features full and firm and yet replete
-with gentleness. The head is slightly thrown back, as if in movement,
-and the lips are parted in a half-smile. And yet, in spite of this
-tender smile, I always fancy that the eyes are sad. The hair, dressed
-without powder, is rolled back over a high cushion (as I suppose), and
-adorned just above the left ear with a single white rose; while, on the
-other side, a heavy tress from behind hangs upon the neck with a sort of
-pastoral freedom. The neck is long and full, and the shoulders rather
-broad. The whole face has a look of mingled softness and decision, and
-seems to reveal a nature inclined to revery, affection, and repose, but
-capable of action and even of heroism. Mlle. de Bergerac died under the
-axe of the Terrorists. Now that I had acquired a certain property in
-this sole memento of her life, I felt a natural curiosity as to her
-character and history. Had M. de Bergerac known his aunt? Did he
-remember her? Would it be a tax on his good-nature to suggest that he
-should favor me with a few reminiscences? The old man fixed his eyes on
-the fire, and laid his hand on mine, as if his memory were fain to draw
-from both sources--from the ruddy glow and from my fresh young blood--a
-certain vital, quickening warmth. A mild, rich smile ran to his lips,
-and he pressed my hand. Somehow,--I hardly know why,--I felt touched
-almost to tears. Mlle. de Bergerac had been a familiar figure in her
-nephew's boyhood, and an important event in her life had formed a sort
-of episode in his younger days. It was a simple enough story; but such
-as it was, then and there, settling back into his chair, with the
-fingers of the clock wandering on to the small hours of the night, he
-told it with a tender, lingering garrulity. Such as it is, I repeat it.
-I shall give, as far as possible, my friend's words, or the English of
-them; but the reader will have to do without his inimitable accents. For
-them there is no English.
-
-My father's household at Bergerac (said the Baron) consisted, exclusive
-of the servants, of five persons,--himself, my mother, my aunt (Mlle. de
-Bergerac), M. Coquelin (my preceptor), and M. Coquelin's pupil, the heir
-of the house. Perhaps, indeed, I should have numbered M. Coquelin among
-the servants. It is certain that my mother did. Poor little woman! she
-was a great stickler for the rights of birth. Her own birth was all she
-had, for she was without health, beauty, or fortune. My father, on his
-side, had very little of the last; his property of Bergerac yielded only
-enough to keep us without discredit. We gave no entertainments, and
-passed the whole year in the country; and as my mother was resolved that
-her weak health should do her a kindness as well as an injury, it was
-put forward as an apology for everything. We led at best a simple,
-somnolent sort of life. There was a terrible amount of leisure for rural
-gentlefolks in those good old days. We slept a great deal; we slept, you
-will say, on a volcano. It was a very different world from this patent
-new world of yours, and I may say that I was born on a different planet.
-Yes, in 1789, there came a great convulsion; the earth cracked and
-opened and broke, and this poor old _pays de France_ went whirling
-through space. When I look back at my childhood, I look over a gulf.
-Three years ago, I spent a week at a country house in the neighborhood
-of Bergerac, and my hostess drove me over to the site of the château.
-The house has disappeared, and there's a homœopathic--hydropathic--what
-do you call it?--establishment erected in its place. But the little town
-is there, and the bridge on the river, and the church where I was
-christened, and the double row of lime-trees on the market-place, and
-the fountain in the middle. There's only one striking difference: the
-sky is changed. I was born under the old sky. It was black enough, of
-course, if we had only had eyes to see it; but to me, I confess, it
-looked divinely blue. And in fact it was very bright,--the little patch
-under which I cast my juvenile shadow. An odd enough little shadow you
-would have thought it. I was promiscuously cuddled and fondled. I was M.
-le Chevalier, and prospective master of Bergerac; and when I walked to
-church on Sunday, I had a dozen yards of lace on my coat and a little
-sword at my side. My poor mother did her best to make me good for
-nothing. She had her maid to curl my hair with the tongs, and she used
-with her own fingers to stick little black patches on my face. And yet I
-was a good deal neglected too, and I would go for days with black
-patches of another sort. I'm afraid I should have got very little
-education if a kind Providence hadn't given me poor M. Coquelin. A kind
-Providence, that is, and my father; for with my mother my tutor was no
-favorite. She thought him--and, indeed, she called him--a bumpkin, a
-clown. There was a very pretty abbé among her friends, M. Tiblaud by
-name, whom she wished to install at the château as my intellectual, and
-her spiritual, adviser; but my father, who, without being anything of an
-_esprit fort_, had an incurable aversion to a priest out of church, very
-soon routed this pious scheme. My poor father was an odd figure of a
-man. He belonged to a type as completely obsolete as the biggest of
-those big-boned, pre-historic monsters discovered by M. Cuvier. He was
-not overburdened with opinions or principles. The only truth that was
-absolute to his perception was that the house of Bergerac was _de bonne
-noblesse._ His tastes were not delicate. He was fond of the open air, of
-long rides, of the smell of the game-stocked woods in autumn, of playing
-at bowls, of a drinking-cup, of a dirty pack of cards, and a free-spoken
-tavern Hebe. I have nothing of him but his name. I strike you as an old
-fossil, a relic, a mummy. Good heavens! you should have seen him,--his
-good, his bad manners, his arrogance, his _bonhomie_, his stupidity and
-pluck.
-
-My early years had promised ill for my health; I was listless and
-languid, and my father had been content to leave me to the women, who,
-on the whole, as I have said, left me a good deal to myself. But one
-morning he seemed suddenly to remember that he had a little son and heir
-running wild. It was, I remember, in my ninth year, a morning early in
-June, after breakfast, at eleven o'clock. He took me by the hand and led
-me out on the terrace, and sat down and made me stand between his knees.
-I was engaged upon a great piece of bread and butter, which I had
-brought away from the table. He put his hand into my hair, and, for the
-first time that I could remember, looked me straight in the face. I had
-seen him take the forelock of a young colt in the same way, when he
-wished to look at its teeth. What did he want? Was he going to send me
-for sale? His eyes seemed prodigiously black and his eyebrows terribly
-thick. They were very much the eyebrows of that portrait. My father
-passed his other hand over the muscles of my arms and the sinews of my
-poor little legs.
-
-"Chevalier," said he, "you're dreadfully puny. What's one to do with
-you?"
-
-I dropped my eyes and said nothing. Heaven knows I felt puny.
-
-"It's time you knew how to read and write. What are you blushing at?"
-
-"I _do_ know how to read," said I.
-
-My father stared. "Pray, who taught you?"
-
-"I learned in a book."
-
-"What book?"
-
-I looked up at my father before I answered. His eyes were bright, and
-there was a little flush in his face,--I hardly knew whether of pleasure
-or anger. I disengaged myself and went into the drawing-room, where I
-took from a cupboard in the wall an odd volume of Scarron's _Roman
-comique._ As I had to go through the house, I was absent some minutes.
-When I came back I found a stranger on the terrace. A young man in poor
-clothes, with a walking-stick, had come up from the avenue, and stood
-before my father, with his hat in his hand. At the farther end of the
-terrace was my aunt. She was sitting on the parapet, playing with a
-great black crow, which we kept in a cage in the dining-room window. I
-betook myself to my father's side with my book, and stood staring at our
-visitor. He was a dark-eyed, sunburnt young man, of about twenty-eight,
-of middle height, broad in the shoulders and short in the neck, with a
-slight lameness in one of his legs. He looked travel-stained and weary
-and pale. I remember there was something prepossessing in his being
-pale. I didn't know that the paleness came simply from his being
-horribly hungry.
-
-"In view of these facts," he said, as I came up, "I have ventured to
-presume upon the good-will of M. le Baron."
-
-My father sat back in his chair, with his legs apart and a hand on each
-knee and his waistcoat unbuttoned, as was usual after a meal. "Upon my
-word," he said, "I don't know what I can do for you. There's no place
-for you in my own household."
-
-The young man was silent a moment. "Has M. le Baron any children?" he
-asked, after a pause.
-
-"I have my son whom you see here."
-
-"May I inquire if M. le Chevalier is supplied with a preceptor?"
-
-My father glanced down at me. "Indeed, he seems to be," he cried. "What
-have you got there?" And he took my book. "The little rascal has M.
-Scarron for a teacher. This is his preceptor!"
-
-I blushed very hard, and the young man smiled. "Is that your only
-teacher?" he asked.
-
-"My aunt taught me to read," I said, looking round at her.
-
-"And did your aunt recommend this book?" asked my father.
-
-"My aunt gave me M. Plutarque," I said.
-
-My father burst out laughing, and the young man put his hat up to his
-mouth. But I could see that above it his eyes had a very good-natured
-look. My aunt, seeing that her name had been mentioned, walked slowly
-over to where we stood, still holding her crow on her hand. You have her
-there before you; judge how she looked. I remember that she frequently
-dressed in blue, my poor aunt, and I know that she must have dressed
-simply. Fancy her in a light stuff gown, covered with big blue flowers,
-with a blue ribbon in her dark hair, and the points of her high-heeled
-blue slippers peeping out under her stiff white petticoat. Imagine her
-strolling along the terrace of the château with a villainous black crow
-perched on her wrist. You'll admit it's a picture.
-
-"Is all this true, sister?" said my father. "Is the Chevalier such a
-scholar?"
-
-"He's a clever boy," said my aunt, putting her hand on my head.
-
-"It seems to me that at a pinch he could do without a preceptor," said
-my father. "He has such a learned aunt."
-
-"I've taught him all I know. He had begun to ask me questions that I was
-quite unable to answer."
-
-"I should think he might," cried my father, with a broad laugh, "when
-once he had got into M. Scarron!"
-
-"Questions out of Plutarch," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "which you must
-know Latin to answer."
-
-"Would you like to know Latin, M. le Chevalier?" said the young man,
-looking at me with a smile.
-
-"Do you know Latin,--you?" I asked.
-
-"Perfectly," said the young man, with the same smile.
-
-"Do you want to learn Latin, Chevalier?" said my aunt.
-
-"Every gentleman learns Latin," said the young man.
-
-I looked at the poor fellow, his dusty shoes and his rusty clothes. "But
-you're not a gentleman," said I.
-
-He blushed up to his eyes. "Ah, I only teach it," he said.
-
-In this way it was that Pierre Coquelin came to be my governor. My
-father, who had a mortal dislike to all kinds of cogitation and inquiry,
-engaged him on the simple testimony of his face and of his own account
-of his talents. His history, as he told it, was in three words as
-follows: He was of our province, and neither more nor less than the son
-of a village tailor. He is my hero: _tirez-vous de là._ Showing a
-lively taste for books, instead of being promoted to the paternal bench,
-he had been put to study with the Jesuits. After a residence of some
-three years with these gentlemen, he had incurred their displeasure by a
-foolish breach of discipline, and had been turned out into the world.
-Here he had endeavored to make capital out of his excellent education,
-and had gone up to Paris with the hope of earning his bread as a
-scribbler. But in Paris he scribbled himself hungry and nothing more,
-and was in fact in a fair way to die of starvation. At last he
-encountered an agent of the Marquis de Rochambeau, who was collecting
-young men for the little army which the latter was prepared to conduct
-to the aid of the American insurgents. He had engaged himself among
-Rochambeau's troops, taken part in several battles, and finally received
-a wound in his leg of which the effect was still perceptible. At the end
-of three years he had returned to France, and repaired on foot, with
-what speed he might, to his native town; but only to find that in his
-absence his father had died, after a tedious illness, in which he had
-vainly lavished his small earnings upon the physicians, and that his
-mother had married again, very little to his taste. Poor Coquelin was
-friendless, penniless, and homeless. But once back on his native soil,
-he found himself possessed again by his old passion for letters, and,
-like: all starving members of his craft, he had turned his face to
-Paris. He longed to make up for his three years in the wilderness. He
-trudged along, lonely, hungry, and weary, till he came to the gates of
-Bergerac. Here, sitting down to rest on a stone, he saw us come out on
-the terrace to digest our breakfast in the sun. Poor Coquelin! he had
-the stomach of a gentleman. He was filled with an irresistible longing
-to rest awhile from his struggle with destiny, and it seemed to him that
-for a mess of smoking pottage he would gladly exchange his vague and
-dubious future. In obedience to this simple impulse,--an impulse
-touching in its humility, when you knew the man,--he made his way up the
-avenue. We looked affable enough,--an honest country gentleman, a young
-girl playing with a crow, and a little boy eating bread and butter; and
-it turned out, we were as kindly as we looked.
-
-For me, I soon grew extremely fond of him, and I was glad to think in
-later days that he had found me a thoroughly docile child. In those
-days, you know, thanks to Jean Jacques Rousseau, there was a vast stir
-in men's notions of education, and a hundred theories afloat about the
-perfect teacher and the perfect pupil. Coquelin was a firm devotee of
-Jean Jacques, and very possibly applied some of his precepts to my own
-little person. But of his own nature Coquelin was incapable of anything
-that was not wise and gentle, and he had no need to learn humanity in
-books. He was, nevertheless, a great reader, and when he had not a
-volume in his hand he was sure to have two in his pockets. He had half a
-dozen little copies of the Greek and Latin poets, bound in yellow
-parchment, which, as he said, with a second shirt and a pair of white
-stockings, constituted his whole library. He had carried these books to
-America, and read them in the wilderness, and by the light of
-camp-fires, and in crowded, steaming barracks in winter-quarters. He had
-a passion for Virgil. M. Scarron was very soon dismissed to the
-cupboard, among the dice-boxes and the old packs of cards, and I was
-confined for the time to Virgil and Ovid and Plutarch, all of which,
-with the stimulus of Coquelin's own delight, I found very good reading.
-But better than any of the stories I read were those stories of his
-wanderings, and his odd companions and encounters, and charming tales of
-pure fantasy, which, with the best grace in the world, he would recite
-by the hour. We took long walks, and he told me the names of the flowers
-and the various styles of the stars, and I remember that I often had no
-small trouble to keep them distinct. He wrote a very bad hand, but he
-made very pretty drawings of the subjects then in vogue,--nymphs and
-heroes and shepherds and pastoral scenes. I used to fancy that his
-knowledge and skill were inexhaustible, and I pestered him so for
-entertainment that I certainly proved that there were no limits to his
-patience.
-
-When he first came to us he looked haggard and thin and weary; but
-before the month was out, he had acquired a comfortable rotundity of
-person, and something of the sleek and polished look which befits the
-governor of a gentleman's son. And yet he never lost a certain gravity
-and reserve of demeanor which was nearly akin to a mild melancholy. With
-me, half the time, he was of course intolerably bored, and he must have
-had hard work to keep from yawning in my face,--which, as he knew I
-knew, would have been an unwarrantable liberty. At table, with my
-parents, he seemed to be constantly observing himself and inwardly
-regulating his words and gestures. The simple truth, I take it, was that
-he had never sat at a gentleman's table, and although he must have known
-himself incapable of a real breach of civility,--essentially delicate as
-he was in his feelings,--he was too proud to run the risk of violating
-etiquette. My poor mother was a great stickler for ceremony, and she
-would have had her majordomo to lift the covers, even if she had had
-nothing to put into the dishes. I remember a cruel rebuke she bestowed
-upon Coquelin, shortly after his arrival. She could never be brought to
-forget that he had been picked up, as she said, on the roads. At dinner
-one day, in the absence of Mlle. de Bergerac, who was indisposed, he
-inadvertently occupied her seat, taking me as a _vis-à-vis_ instead of
-a neighbor. Shortly afterwards, coming to offer wine to my mother, he
-received for all response a stare so blank, cold, and insolent as to
-leave no doubt of her estimate of his presumption. In my mother's simple
-philosophy, Mlle. de Bergerac's seat could be decently occupied only
-herself, and in default of her presence should remain conspicuously and
-sacredly vacant. Dinner at Bergerac was at best, indeed, a cold and
-dismal ceremony. I see it now,--the great dining-room, with its high
-windows and their faded curtains, and the tiles upon the floor, and the
-immense wainscots, and the great white marble chimney-piece, reaching to
-the ceiling,--a triumph of delicate carving,--and the panels above the
-doors, with their _galant_ mythological paintings. All this had been the
-work of my grandfather, during the Regency, who had undertaken to
-renovate and beautify the château; but his funds had suddenly given
-out, and we could boast but a desultory elegance. Such talk as passed at
-table was between my mother and the Baron, and consisted for the most
-part of a series of insidious attempts on my mother's part to extort
-information which the latter had no desire, or at least no faculty, to
-impart. My father was constitutionally taciturn and apathetic, and he
-invariably made an end of my mother's interrogation by proclaiming that
-he hated gossip. He liked to take his pleasure and have done with it, or
-at best, to ruminate his substantial joys within the conservative
-recesses of his capacious breast. The Baronne's inquisitive tongue was
-like a lambent flame, flickering over the sides of a rock. She had a
-passion for the world, and seclusion had only sharpened the edge of her
-curiosity. She lived on old memories--shabby, tarnished bits of
-intellectual finery--and vagrant rumors, anecdotes, and scandals.
-
-Once in a while, however, her curiosity held high revel; for once a week
-we had the Vicomte de Treuil to dine with us. This gentleman was,
-although several years my father's junior, his most intimate friend and
-the only constant visitor at Bergerac. He brought with him a sort of
-intoxicating perfume of the great world, which I myself was not too
-young to feel. He had a marvellous fluency of talk; he was polite and
-elegant; and he was constantly getting letters from Paris, books,
-newspapers, and prints, and copies of the new songs. When he dined at
-Bergerac, my mother used to rustle away from table, kissing her hand to
-him, and actually light-headed from her deep potations of gossip. His
-conversation was a constant popping of corks. My father and the Vicomte,
-as I have said, were firm friends,--the firmer for the great diversity
-of their characters. M. de Bergerac was dark, grave, and taciturn, with
-a deep, sonorous voice. He had in his nature a touch of melancholy, and,
-in default of piety, a broad vein of superstition. The foundations of
-his soul, moreover, I am satisfied, in spite of the somewhat ponderous
-superstructure, were laid in a soil of rich tenderness and pity. Gaston
-de Treuil was of a wholly different temper. He was short and slight,
-without any color, and with eyes as blue and lustrous as sapphires. He
-was so careless and gracious and mirthful, that to an unenlightened
-fancy he seemed the model of a joyous, reckless, gallant, impenitent
-_veneur._ But it sometimes struck me that, as he revolved an idea in his
-mind, it produced a certain flinty ring, which suggested that his nature
-was built, as it were, on rock, and that the bottom of his heart was
-hard. Young as he was, besides, he had a tired, jaded, exhausted look,
-which told of his having played high at the game of life, and, very
-possibly, lost. In fact, it was notorious that M. de Treuil had run
-through his property, and that his actual business in our neighborhood
-was to repair the breach in his fortunes by constant attendance on a
-wealthy kinsman, who occupied an adjacent château, and who was dying of
-age and his infirmities. But while I thus hint at the existence in his
-composition of these few base particles, I should be sorry to represent
-him as substantially less fair and clear and lustrous than he appeared
-to he. He possessed an irresistible charm, and that of itself is a
-virtue. I feel sure, moreover, that my father would never have
-reconciled himself to a real scantiness of masculine worth. The Vicomte
-enjoyed, I fancy, the generous energy of my father's good-fellowship,
-and the Baron's healthy senses were flattered by the exquisite perfume
-of the other's infallible _savoir-vivre._ I offer a hundred apologies,
-at any rate, to the Vicomte's luminous shade, that I should have
-ventured to cast a dingy slur upon his name. History has commemorated
-it. He perished on the scaffold, and showed that he knew how to die as
-well as to live. He was the last relic of the lily-handed youth of the
-_bon temps_; and as he looks at me out of the poignant sadness of the
-past, with a reproachful glitter in his cold blue eyes, and a scornful
-smile on his fine lips, I feel that, elegant and silent as he is, he has
-the last word in our dispute. I shall think of him henceforth as he
-appeared one night, or rather one morning, when he came home from a ball
-with my father, who had brought him to Bergerac to sleep. I had my bed
-in a closet out of my mother's room, where I lay in a most unwholesome
-fashion among her old gowns and hoops and cosmetics. My mother slept
-little; she passed the night in her dressing-gown, bolstered up in her
-bed, reading novels. The two gentlemen came in at four o'clock in the
-morning and made their way up to the Baronne's little sitting-room, next
-to her chamber. I suppose they were highly exhilarated, for they made a
-great noise of talking and laughing, and my father began to knock at the
-chamber door. He called out that he had M. de Treuil, and that they were
-cold and hungry. The Baronne said that she had a fire and they might
-come in. She was glad enough, poor lady, to get news of the ball, and to
-catch their impressions before they had been dulled by sleep. So they
-came in and sat by the fire, and M. de Treuil looked for some wine and
-some little cakes where my mother told him. I was wide awake and heard
-it all. I heard my mother protesting and crying out, and the Vicomte
-laughing, when he looked into the wrong place; and I am afraid that in
-my mother's room there were a great many wrong places. Before long, in
-my little stuffy, dark closet, I began to feel hungry too; whereupon I
-got out of bed and ventured forth into the room. I remember the whole
-picture, as one remembers isolated scenes of childhood: my mother's bed,
-with its great curtains half drawn back at the side, and her little
-eager face and dark eyes peeping out of the recess; then the two men at
-the fire,--my father with his hat on, sitting and looking drowsily into
-the flames, and the Vicomte standing before the hearth, talking,
-laughing, and gesticulating, with the candlestick in one hand and a
-glass of wine in the other,--dropping the wax on one side and the wine
-on the other. He was dressed from head to foot in white velvet and white
-silk, with embroideries of silver, and an immense _jabot._ He was very
-pale, and he looked lighter and slighter and wittier and more elegant
-than ever. He had a weak voice, and when he laughed, after one feeble
-little spasm, it went off into nothing, and you only knew he was
-laughing by his nodding his head and lifting his eyebrows and showing
-his handsome teeth. My father was in crimson velvet, with tarnished gold
-facings. My mother bade me get back into bed, but my father took me on
-his knees and held out my bare feet to the fire. In a little while, from
-the influence of the heat, he fell asleep in his chair, and I sat in my
-place and watched M. de Treuil as he stood in the firelight drinking his
-wine and telling stories to my mother, until at last I too relapsed into
-the innocence of slumber. They were very good friends, the Vicomte and
-my mother. He admired the turn of her mind. I remember his telling me
-several years later, at the time of her death, when I was old enough to
-understand him, that she was a very brave, keen little woman, and that
-in her musty solitude of Bergerac she said a great many more good things
-than the world ever heard of.
-
-
-During the winter which preceded Coquelin's arrival, M. de Treuil used
-to show himself at Bergerac in a friendly manner; but about a month
-before this event, his visits became more frequent and assumed a special
-import and motive. In a word, my father and his friend between them had
-conceived it to be a fine thing that the latter should marry Mlle. de
-Bergerac. Neither from his own nor from his friend's point of view was
-Gaston de Treuil a marrying man or a desirable _parti._ He was too fond
-of pleasure to conciliate a rich wife, and too poor to support a
-penniless one. But I fancy that my father was of the opinion that if the
-Vicomte came into his kinsman's property, the best way to insure
-the preservation of it, and to attach him to his duties and
-responsibilities, would be to unite him to an amiable girl, who might
-remind him of the beauty of a domestic life and lend him courage to mend
-his ways. As far as the Vicomte was concerned, this was assuredly a
-benevolent scheme, but it seems to me that it made small account of the
-young girl's own happiness. M. de Treuil was supposed, in the matter of
-women, to have known everything that can be known, and to be as _blasé_
-with regard to their charms as he was proof against their influence.
-And, in fact, his manner of dealing with women, and of discussing them,
-indicated a profound disenchantment,--no bravado of contempt, no
-affectation of cynicism, but a cold, civil, absolute lassitude. A simply
-charming woman, therefore, would never have served the purpose of my
-father's theory. A very sound and liberal instinct led him to direct his
-thoughts to his sister. There were, of course, various auxiliary reasons
-for such disposal of Mlle. de Bergerac's hand. She was now a woman
-grown, and she had as yet received no decent proposals. She had no
-marriage portion of her own, and my father had no means to endow her.
-Her beauty, moreover, could hardly be called a dowry. It was without
-those vulgar allurements which, for many a poor girl, replace the
-glitter of cash. If within a very few years more she had not succeeded
-in establishing herself creditably in the world, nothing would be left
-for her but to withdraw from it, and to pledge her virgin faith to the
-chilly sanctity of a cloister. I was destined in the course of time to
-assume the lordship and the slender revenues of Bergerac, and it was not
-to be expected that I should be burdened on the very threshold of life
-with the maintenance of a dowerless maiden aunt. A marriage with M. de
-Treuil would be in all senses a creditable match, and, in the event of
-his becoming his kinsman's legatee, a thoroughly comfortable one.
-
-It was some time before the color of my father's intentions, and the
-milder hue of the Vicomte's acquiescence, began to show in our common
-daylight. It is not the custom, as you know, in our excellent France, to
-admit a lover on probation. He is expected to make up his mind on a view
-of the young lady's endowments, and to content himself before marriage
-with the bare cognition of her face. It is not thought decent (and there
-is certainly reason in it) that he should dally with his draught, and
-hold it to the light, and let the sun play through it, before carrying
-it to his lips. It was only on the ground of my father's warm good-will
-to Gaston de Treuil, and the latter's affectionate respect for the
-Baron, that the Vicomte was allowed to appear as a lover, before making
-his proposals in form. M. de Treuil, in fact, proceeded gradually, and
-made his approaches from a great distance. It was not for several weeks,
-therefore, that Mlle. de Bergerac became aware of them. And now, as this
-dear young girl steps into my story, where, I ask you, shall I find
-words to describe the broad loveliness of her person, to hint at the
-perfect beauty of her mind, to suggest the sweet mystery of her first
-suspicion of being sought, from afar, in marriage? Not in my fancy,
-surely; for there I should disinter the flimsy elements and tarnished
-properties of a superannuated comic opera. My taste, my son, was formed
-once for all fifty years ago. But if I wish to call up Mlle. de
-Bergerac, I must turn to my earliest memories, and delve in the
-sweet-smelling virgin soil of my heart. For Mlle. de Bergerac is no
-misty sylphid nor romantic moonlit nymph. She rises before me now,
-glowing with life, with the sound of her voice just dying in the
-air,--the more living for the mark of her crimson death-stain.
-
-There was every good reason why her dawning consciousness of M. de
-Treuil's attentions--although these were little more than projected as
-yet--should have produced a serious tremor in her heart. It was not that
-she was aught of a coquette; I honestly believe that there was no latent
-coquetry in her nature. At all events, whatever she might have become
-after knowing M. de Treuil, she was no coquette to speak of in her
-ignorance. Her ignorance of men, in truth, was great. For the Vicomte
-himself, she had as yet known him only distantly, formally, as a
-gentleman of rank and fashion; and for others of his quality, she had
-seen but a small number, and not seen them intimately. These few words
-suffice to indicate that my aunt led a life of unbroken monotony. Once a
-year she spent six weeks with certain ladies of the Visitation, in whose
-convent she had received her education, and of whom she continued to be
-very fond. Half a dozen times in the twelvemonth she went to a hall,
-under convoy of some haply ungrudging _châtelaine._ Two or three times
-a month, she received a visit at Bergerac. The rest of the time she
-paced, with the grace of an angel and the patience of a woman, the
-dreary corridors and unclipt garden walks of Bergerac. The discovery,
-then, that the brilliant Vicomte de Treuil was likely to make a proposal
-for her hand was an event of no small importance. With precisely what
-feelings she awaited its coming, I am unable to tell; but I have no
-hesitation in saying that even at this moment (that is, in less than a
-month after my tutor's arrival) her feelings were strongly modified by
-her acquaintance with Pierre Coquelin.
-
-The word "acquaintance" perhaps exaggerates Mlle. de Bergerac's relation
-to this excellent young man. Twice a day she sat facing him at table,
-and half a dozen times a week she met him on the staircase, in the
-saloon, or in the park. Coquelin had been accommodated with an apartment
-in a small untenanted pavilion, within the enclosure of our domain, and
-except at meals, and when his presence was especially requested at the
-château, he confined himself to his own precinct. It was there, morning
-and evening, that I took my lesson. It was impossible, therefore, that
-an intimacy should have arisen between these two young persons, equally
-separated as they were by material and conventional barriers.
-Nevertheless, as the sequel proved, Coquelin must, by his mere presence,
-have begun very soon to exert a subtle action on Mlle. de Bergerac's
-thoughts. As for the young girl's influence on Coquelin, it is my belief
-that he fell in love with her the very first moment he beheld her,--that
-morning when he trudged wearily up our avenue. I need certainly make no
-apology for the poor fellow's audacity. You tell me that you fell in
-love at first sight with my aunt's portrait; you will readily excuse the
-poor youth for having been smitten with the original. It is less logical
-perhaps, but it is certainly no less natural, that Mlle. de Bergerac
-should have ventured to think of my governor as a decidedly interesting
-fellow. She saw so few men that one the more or the less made a very
-great difference. Coquelin's importance, moreover, was increased rather
-than diminished by the fact that, as I may say, he was a son of the
-soil. Marked as he was, in aspect and utterance, with the genuine
-plebeian stamp, he opened a way for the girl's fancy into a vague,
-unknown world. He stirred her imagination, I conceive, in very much the
-same way as such a man as Gaston de Treuil would have stirred--actually
-had stirred, of course--the grosser sensibilities of many a little
-_bourgeoise._ Mlle. de Bergerac was so thoroughly at peace with the
-consequences of her social position, so little inclined to derogate in
-act or in thought from the perfect dignity of her birth, that with the
-best conscience in the world, she entertained, as they came, the
-feelings provoked by Coquelin's manly virtues and graces. She had been
-educated in the faith that _noblesse oblige_, and she had seen none but
-gentlefolks and peasants. I think that she felt a vague, unavowed
-curiosity to see what sort of a figure you might make when you were
-under no obligations to nobleness. I think, finally, that unconsciously
-and in the interest simply of her unsubstantial dreams, (for in those
-long summer days at Bergerac, without finery, without visits, music, or
-books, or anything that a well-to-do grocer's daughter enjoys at the
-present day, she must, unless she was a far greater simpleton than I
-wish you to suppose, have spun a thousand airy, idle visions,) she
-contrasted Pierre Coquelin with the Vicomte de Treuil. I protest that I
-don't see how Coquelin bore the contrast. I frankly admit that, in her
-place, I would have given all my admiration to the Vicomte. At all
-events, the chief result of any such comparison must have been to show
-how, in spite of real trials and troubles, Coquelin had retained a
-certain masculine freshness and elasticity, and how, without any sorrows
-but those of his own wanton making, the Vicomte had utterly rubbed off
-his primal bloom of manhood. There was that about Gaston de Treuil that
-reminded you of an actor by daylight. His little row of foot-lights had
-burned itself out. But this is assuredly a more pedantic view of the
-case than any that Mlle. de Bergerac was capable of taking. The Vicomte
-had but to learn his part and declaim it, and the illusion was complete.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac may really have been a great simpleton, and my theory
-of her feelings--vague and imperfect as it is--may be put together quite
-after the fact. But I see you protest; you glance at the picture; you
-frown. _C'est bon_; give me your hand. She received the Vicomte's
-gallantries, then, with a modest, conscious dignity, and courtesied to
-exactly the proper depth when he made her one of his inimitable bows.
-
-One evening--it was, I think, about ten days after Coquelin's
-arrival--she was sitting reading to my mother, who was ill in bed. The
-Vicomte had been dining with us, and after dinner we had gone into the
-drawing-room. At the drawing-room door Coquelin had made his bow to my
-father, and carried me off to his own apartment. Mlle. de Bergerac and
-the two gentlemen had gone into the drawing-room together. At dusk I had
-come back to the château, and, going up to my mother, had found her in
-company with her sister-in-law. In a few moments my father came in,
-looking stern and black.
-
-"Sister," he cried, "why did you leave us alone in the drawing-room?
-Didn't you see I wanted you to stay?"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac laid down her book and looked at her brother before
-answering. "I had to come to my sister," she said: "I couldn't leave her
-alone."
-
-My mother, I'm sorry to say, was not always just to my aunt. She used to
-lose patience with her sister's want of coquetry, of ambition, of desire
-to make much of herself. She divined wherein my aunt had offended.
-"You're very devoted to your sister, suddenly," she said. "There are
-duties and duties, mademoiselle. I'm very much obliged to you for
-reading to me. You can put down the book."
-
-"The Vicomte swore very hard when you went out," my father went on.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac laid aside her book. "Dear me!" she said, "if he was
-going to swear, it's very well I went."
-
-"Are you afraid of the Vicomte?" said my mother. "You're twenty-two
-years old. You're not a little girl."
-
-"Is she twenty-two?" cried my father. "I told him she was twenty-one."
-
-"Frankly, brother," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "what does he want? Does he
-want to marry me?"
-
-My father stared a moment. "_Pardieu!_" he cried.
-
-"She looks as if she didn't believe it," said my mother. "Pray, did you
-ever ask him?"
-
-"No, madam; did you? You are very kind." Mlle. de Bergerac was excited;
-her cheeks flushed.
-
-"In the course of time," said my father, gravely, "the Vicomte proposes
-to demand your hand."
-
-"What is he waiting for?" asked Mlle. de Bergerac, simply.
-
-"_Fi donc, mademoiselle!_" cried my mother.
-
-"He is waiting for M. de Sorbières to die," said I, who had got this
-bit of news from my mother's waiting-woman.
-
-My father stared at me, half angrily; and then,--"He expects to
-inherit," he said, boldly. "It's a very fine property."
-
-"He would have done better, it seems to me," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac,
-after a pause, "to wait till he had actually come into possession of
-it."
-
-"M. de Sorbières," cried my father, "has given him his word a dozen
-times over. Besides, the Vicomte loves you."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac blushed, with a little smile, and as she did so her
-eyes fell on mine. I was standing gazing at her as a child gazes at a
-familiar friend who is presented to him in a new light. She put out her
-hand and drew me towards her. "The truth comes out of the mouths of
-children," she said. "Chevalier, does he love me?"
-
-"Stuff!" cried the Baronne; "one doesn't: speak to children of such
-things. A young girl should believe what she's told. I believed my
-mother when she told me that your brother loved me. He didn't, but I
-believed it, and as far as I know I'm none the worse for it."
-
-For ten days after this I heard nothing more of Mlle. de Bergerac's
-marriage, and I suppose that, childlike, I ceased to think of what I had
-already heard. One evening, about midsummer, M. de Treuil came over to
-supper, and announced that he was about to set out in company with poor
-M. de Sorbières for some mineral springs in the South, by the use of
-which the latter hoped to prolong his life.
-
-I remember that, while we sat at table, Coquelin was appealed to as an
-authority upon some topic broached by the Vicomte, on which he found
-himself at variance with my father. It was the first time, I fancy, that
-he had been so honored and that his opinions had been deemed worth
-hearing. The point under discussion must have related to the history of
-the American War, for Coquelin spoke with the firmness and fulness
-warranted by personal knowledge. I fancy that he was a little frightened
-by the sound of his own voice, but he acquitted himself with perfect
-good grace and success. We all sat attentive; my mother even staring a
-little, surprised to find in a beggarly pedagogue a perfect beau diseur.
-My father, as became so great a gentleman, knew by a certain rough
-instinct when a man had something amusing to say. He leaned back, with
-his hands in his pockets, listening and paying the poor fellow the
-tribute of a half-puzzled frown. The Vicomte, like a man of taste, was
-charmed. He told stories himself, he was a good judge.
-
-After supper we went out on the terrace. It was a perfect summer night,
-neither too warm nor too cool. There was no moon, but the stars flung
-down their languid light, and the earth, with its great dark masses of
-vegetation and the gently swaying tree-tops, seemed to answer back in a
-thousand vague perfumes. Somewhere, close at hand, out of an enchanted
-tree, a nightingale raved and carolled in delirious music. We had the
-good taste to listen in silence. My mother sat down on a bench against
-the house, and put out her hand and made my father sit beside her. Mlle.
-de Bergerac strolled to the edge of the terrace, and leaned against the
-balustrade, whither M. de Treuil soon followed her. She stood
-motionless, with her head raised, intent upon the music. The Vicomte
-seated himself upon the parapet, with his face towards her and his arms
-folded. He may perhaps have been talking, under cover of the
-nightingale. Coquelin seated himself near the other end of the terrace,
-and drew me between his knees. At last the nightingale ceased. Coquelin
-got up, and bade good night to the company, and made his way across the
-park to his lodge. I went over to my aunt and the Vicomte.
-
-"M. Coquelin is a clever man," said the Vicomte, as he disappeared down
-the avenue. "He spoke very well this evening."
-
-"He never spoke so much before," said I. "He's very shy."
-
-"I think," said my aunt, "he's a little proud."
-
-"I don't understand," said the Vicomte, "how a man with any pride can
-put up with the place of a tutor. I had rather dig in the fields."
-
-"The Chevalier is much obliged to you," said my aunt, laughing. "In
-fact, M. Coquelin has to dig a little, hasn't he, Chevalier?"
-
-"Not at all," said I. "But he keeps some plants in pots."
-
-At this my aunt and the Vicomte began to laugh. "He keeps one precious
-plant," cried my aunt, tapping my face with her fan.
-
-At this moment my mother called me away. "He makes them laugh," I heard
-her say to my father, as I went to her.
-
-"She had better laugh about it than cry," said my father.
-
-Before long, Mlle. de Bergerac and her companion came back toward the
-house.
-
-"M. le Vicomte, brother," said my aunt, "invites me to go down and walk
-in the park. May I accept?"
-
-"By all means," said my father. "You may go with the Vicomte as you
-would go with me."
-
-"Ah!" said the Vicomte.
-
-"Come then, Chevalier," said my aunt. "In my turn, I invite you."
-
-"My son," said the Baronne, "I forbid you."
-
-"But my brother says," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac, "that I may go with
-M. de Treuil as I would go with himself. He would not object to my
-taking my nephew." And she put out her hand.
-
-"One would think," said my mother, "that you were setting out for
-Siberia."
-
-"For Siberia!" cried the Vicomte, laughing; "O no!"
-
-I paused, undecided. But my father gave me a push. "After all," he said,
-"it's better."
-
-When I overtook my aunt and her lover, the latter, losing no time,
-appeared to have come quite to the point.
-
-"Your brother tells me, mademoiselle," he had begun, "that he has spoken
-to you."
-
-The young girl was silent.
-
-"You may be indifferent," pursued the Vicomte, "but I can't believe
-you're ignorant."
-
-"My brother has spoken to me," said Mlle. de Bergerac at last, with an
-apparent effort,--"my brother has spoken to me of his project."
-
-"I'm very glad he seemed to you to have espoused my cause so warmly that
-you call it his own. I did my best to convince him that I possess what a
-person of your merit is entitled to exact of the man who asks her hand.
-In doing so, I almost convinced myself. The point is now to convince
-you."
-
-"I listen."
-
-"You admit, then, that your mind is not made up in advance against me."
-
-"_Mon Dieu!_" cried my aunt, with some emphasis, "a poor girl like me
-doesn't make up her mind. You frighten me, Vicomte. This is a serious
-question. I have the misfortune to have no mother. I can only pray God.
-But prayer helps me not to choose, but only to be resigned."
-
-"Pray often, then, mademoiselle. I'm not an arrogant lover, and since I
-have known you a little better, I have lost all my vanity. I'm not a
-good man nor a wise one. I have no doubt you think me very light and
-foolish, but you can't begin to know how light and foolish I am. Marry
-me and you'll never know. If you don't marry me, I'm afraid you'll never
-marry."
-
-"You're very frank. Vicomte. If you think I'm afraid of never marrying,
-you're mistaken. One can be very happy as an old maid. I spend six weeks
-every year with the ladies of the Visitation. Several of them are
-excellent women, charming women. They read, they educate young girls,
-they visit the poor--"
-
-The Vicomte broke into a laugh. "They get up at five o'clock in the
-morning; they breakfast on boiled cabbage; they make flannel waistcoats,
-and very good sweetmeats! Why do you talk so, mademoiselle? Why do you
-say that you would like to lead such a life? One might almost believe it
-is coquetry. _Tenez_, I believe it's ignorance,--ignorance of your own
-feelings, your own nature, and your own needs." M. de Treuil paused a
-moment, and, although I had a very imperfect notion of the meaning of
-his words, I remember being struck with the vehement look of his pale
-face, which seemed fairly to glow in the darkness. Plainly, he was in
-love. "You are not made for solitude," he went on; "you are not made to
-be buried in a dingy old château, in the depths of a ridiculous
-province. You are made for the world, for the court, for pleasure, to be
-loved, admired, and envied. No, you don't know yourself, nor does
-Bergerac know you, nor his wife! I, at least, appreciate you. I blow
-that you are supremely beautiful--"
-
-"Vicomte," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "you forget--the child."
-
-"Hang the child! Why did you bring him along? You are no child. You can
-understand me. You are a woman, full of intelligence and goodness and
-beauty. They don't know you here, they think you a little demoiselle in
-pinafores. Before Heaven, mademoiselle, there is that about you,--I see
-it, I feel it here at your side, in this rustling darkness--there is
-that about you that a man would gladly die for."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac interrupted him with energy. "You talk extravagantly.
-I don't understand you; you frighten me."
-
-"I talk as I feel. I frighten you? So much the better. I wish to stir
-your heart and get some answer to the passion of my own."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac was silent a moment, as if collecting her thoughts.
-"If I talk with you on this subject, I must do it with my wits about
-me," she said at last. "I must know exactly what we each mean."
-
-"It's plain then that I can't hope to inspire you with any degree of
-affection."
-
-"One doesn't promise to love, Vicomte; I can only answer for the
-present. My heart is so full of good wishes toward you that it costs me
-comparatively little to say I don't love you."
-
-"And anything I may say of my own feelings will make no difference to
-you?"
-
-"You have said you love me. Let it rest there."
-
-"But you look as if you doubted my word."
-
-"You can't see how I look; Vicomte, I believe you."
-
-"Well then, there is one point gained. Let us pass to the others. I'm
-thirty years old. I have a very good name and a very bad reputation. I
-honestly believe that, though I've fallen below my birth, I've kept
-above my fame. I believe that I have no vices of temper; I'm neither
-brutal, nor jealous, nor miserly. As for my fortune, I'm obliged to
-admit that it consists chiefly in my expectations. My actual property is
-about equal to your brother's and you know how your sister-in-law is
-obliged to live. My expectations are thought particularly good. My
-great-uncle, M. de Sorbières, possesses, chiefly in landed estates, a
-fortune of some three millions of livres. I have no important
-competitors, either in blood or devotion. He is eighty-seven years old
-and paralytic, and within the past year I have been laying siege to his
-favor with such constancy that his surrender, like his extinction, is
-only a question of time. I received yesterday a summons to go with him
-to the Pyrenees, to drink certain medicinal waters. The least he can do,
-on my return, is to make me a handsome allowance, which with my own
-revenues will make--_en attendant_ better things--a sufficient income
-for a reasonable couple."
-
-There was a pause of some moments, during which we slowly walked along
-in the obstructed starlight, the silence broken only by the train of my
-aunt's dress brushing against the twigs and pebbles.
-
-"What a pity," she said, at last, "that you are not able to speak of all
-this good fortune as in the present rather than in the future."
-
-"There it is! Until I came to know you, I had no thoughts of marriage.
-What did I want of wealth? If five years ago I had foreseen this moment,
-I should stand here with something better than promises."
-
-"Well, Vicomte," pursued the young girl, with singular composure, "you
-do me the honor to think very well of me: I hope you will not be vexed
-to find that prudence is one of my virtues. If I marry, I wish to marry
-well. It's not only the husband, but the marriage that counts. In
-accepting you as you stand, I should make neither a sentimental match
-nor a brilliant one."
-
-"Excellent. I love you, prudence and all. Say, then, that I present
-myself here three months hence with the titles and tokens of property
-amounting to a million and a half of livres, will you consider that I am
-a _parti_ sufficiently brilliant to make you forget that you don't love
-me?"
-
-"I should never forget that."
-
-"Well, nor I either. It makes a sort of sorrowful harmony! If three
-months hence, I repeat, I offer you a fortune instead of this poor empty
-hand, will you accept the one for the sake of the other?"
-
-My aunt stopped short in the path. "I hope, Vicomte," she said, with
-much apparent simplicity, "that you are going to do nothing indelicate."
-
-"God forbid, mademoiselle! It shall be a clean hand and a clean
-fortune."
-
-"If you ask then a promise, a pledge--"
-
-"You'll not give it. I ask then only for a little hope. Give it in what
-form you will."
-
-We walked a few steps farther and came out from among the shadows,
-beneath the open sky. The voice of M. de Treuil, as he uttered these
-words, was low and deep and tender and full of entreaty. Mlle. de
-Bergerac cannot but have been deeply moved. I think she was somewhat
-awe-struck at having called up such a force of devotion in a nature
-deemed cold and inconstant. She put out her hand. "I wish success to any
-honorable efforts. In any case you will be happier for your wealth. In
-one case it will get you a wife, and in the other it will console you."
-
-"Console me! I shall hate it, despise it, and throw it into the sea!"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac had no intention, of course, of leaving her companion
-under an illusion. "Ah, but understand. Vicomte," she said, "I make no
-promise. My brother claims the right to bestow my hand. If he wishes our
-marriage now, of course he will wish it three months hence. I have never
-gainsaid him."
-
-"From now to three months a great deal may happen."
-
-"To you, perhaps, but not to me."
-
-"Are you going to your friends of the Visitation?"
-
-"No, indeed. I have no wish to spend the summer in a cloister. I prefer
-the green fields."
-
-"Well, then _va_ for the green fields! They're the next best thing. I
-recommend you to the Chevalier's protection."
-
-We had made half the circuit of the park, and turned into an alley which
-stretched away towards the house, and about midway in its course
-separated into two paths, one leading to the main avenue, and the other
-to the little pavilion inhabited by Coquelin. At the point where the
-alley was divided stood an enormous oak of great circumference, with a
-circular bench surrounding its trunk. It occupied, I believe, the
-central point of the whole domain. As we reached the oak, I looked down
-along the footpath towards the pavilion, and saw Coquelin's light
-shining in one of the windows. I immediately proposed that we should pay
-him a visit. My aunt objected, on the ground that he was doubtless busy
-and would not thank us for interrupting him. And then, when I insisted,
-she said it was not proper.
-
-"How not proper?"
-
-"It's not proper for me. A lady doesn't visit young men in their own
-apartments."
-
-At this the Vicomte cried out. He was partly amused, I think, at my
-aunt's attaching any compromising power to poor little Coquelin, and
-partly annoyed at her not considering his own company, in view of his
-pretensions, a sufficient guaranty.
-
-"I should think," he said, "that with the Chevalier and me you might
-venture--"
-
-"As you please, then," said my aunt. And I accordingly led the way to my
-governor's abode.
-
-It was a small edifice of a single floor, standing prettily enough among
-the trees, and still habitable, although very much in disrepair. It had
-been built by that same ancestor to whom Bergerac was indebted, in the
-absence of several of the necessities of life, for many of its elegant
-superfluities, and had been designed, I suppose, as a scene of
-pleasure,--such pleasure as he preferred to celebrate elsewhere than
-beneath the roof of his domicile. Whether it had ever been used I know
-not; but it certainly had very little of the look of a pleasure-house.
-Such furniture as it had once possessed had long since been transferred
-to the needy saloons of the château, and it now looked dark and bare
-and cold. In front, the shrubbery had been left to grow thick and wild
-and almost totally to exclude the light from the windows; but behind,
-outside of the two rooms which he occupied, and which had been provided
-from the château with the articles necessary for comfort, Coquelin had
-obtained my father's permission to effect a great clearance in the
-foliage, and he now enjoyed plenty of sunlight and a charming view of
-the neighboring country. It was in the larger of these two rooms,
-arranged as a sort of study, that we found him.
-
-He seemed surprised and somewhat confused by our visit, but he very soon
-recovered himself sufficiently to do the honors of his little
-establishment.
-
-"It was an idea of my nephew," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "We were walking
-in the park, and he saw your light. Now that we are here, Chevalier,
-what would you have us do?"
-
-"M. Coquelin has some very pretty things to show you," said I.
-
-Coquelin turned very red. "Pretty things, Chevalier? Pray, what do you
-mean? I have some of your nephew's copy-books," he said, turning to my
-aunt.
-
-"Nay, you have some of your own," I cried. "He has books full of
-drawings, made by himself."
-
-"Ah, you draw?" said the Vicomte.
-
-"M. le Chevalier does me the honor to think so. My drawings are meant
-for no critics but children."
-
-"In the way of criticism," said my aunt, gently, "we too are children."
-Her beautiful eyes, as she uttered these words, must have been quite as
-gentle as her voice. Coquelin looked at her, thinking very modestly of
-his little pictures, but loth to refuse the first request she had ever
-made him.
-
-"Show them, at any rate," said the Vicomte, in a somewhat peremptory
-tone. In those days, you see, a man occupying Coquelin's place was
-expected to hold all his faculties and talents at the disposal of his
-patron, and it was thought an unwarrantable piece of assumption that he
-should cultivate any of the arts for his own peculiar delectation. In
-withholding his drawings, therefore, it may have seemed to the Vicomte
-that Coquelin was unfaithful to the service to which he was held,--that,
-namely, of instructing, diverting, and edifying the household of
-Bergerac. Coquelin went to a little cupboard in the wall, and took out
-three small albums and a couple of portfolios. Mlle. de Bergerac sat
-down at the table, and Coquelin drew up the lamp and placed his drawings
-before her. He turned them over, and gave such explanations as seemed
-necessary. I have only my childish impressions of the character of these
-sketches, which, in my eyes, of course, seemed prodigiously clever. What
-the judgment of my companions was worth I know not, but they appeared
-very well pleased. The Vicomte probably knew a good sketch from a poor
-one, and he very good-naturedly pronounced my tutor an extremely knowing
-fellow. Coquelin had drawn anything and everything,--peasants and dumb
-brutes, landscapes and Parisian types and figures, taken indifferently
-from high and low life. But the best pieces in the collection were a
-series of illustrations and reminiscences of his adventures with the
-American army, and of the figures and episodes he had observed in the
-Colonies. They were for the most part rudely enough executed, owing to
-his want of time and materials, but they were full of _finesse_ and
-character. M. de Treuil was very much amused at the rude equipments of
-your ancestors. There were sketches of the enemy too, whom Coquelin had
-apparently not been afraid to look in the face. While he was turning
-over these designs for Mlle. de Bergerac, the Vicomte took up one of his
-portfolios, and, after a short inspection, drew from it, with a cry of
-surprise, a large portrait in pen and ink.
-
-"_Tiens!_" said I; "it's my aunt!"
-
-Coquelin turned pale. Mlle. de Bergerac looked at him, and turned the
-least bit red. As for the Vicomte, he never changed color. There was no
-eluding the fact that it was a likeness, and Coquelin had to pay the
-penalty of his skill.
-
-"I didn't know," he said, at random, "that it was in that portfolio. Do
-you recognize it, mademoiselle?"
-
-"Ah," said the Vicomte, dryly, "M. Coquelin meant to hide it."
-
-"It's too pretty to hide," said my aunt; "and yet it's too pretty to
-show. It's flattered."
-
-"Why should I have flattered you, mademoiselle?" asked Coquelin. "You
-were never to see it."
-
-"That's what it is, mademoiselle," said the Vicomte, "to have such
-dazzling beauty. It penetrates the world. Who knows where you'll find it
-reflected next?"
-
-However pretty a compliment this may have been to Mlle. de Bergerac, it
-was decidedly a back-handed blow to Coquelin. The young girl perceived
-that he felt it.
-
-She rose to her feet. "My beauty," she said, with a slight tremor in her
-voice, "would be a small thing without M. Coquelin's talent. We are much
-obliged to you. I hope that you'll bring your pictures to the château,
-so that we may look at the rest."
-
-"Are you going to leave him this?" asked M. de Treuil, holding up the
-portrait.
-
-"If M. Coquelin will give it to me, I shall be very glad to have it."
-
-"One doesn't keep one's own portrait," said the Vicomte. "It ought to
-belong to me." In those days, before the invention of our sublime
-machinery for the reproduction of the human face, a young fellow was
-very glad to have his mistress's likeness in pen and ink.
-
-But Coquelin had no idea of contributing to the Vicomte's gallery.
-"Excuse me," he said, gently, but looking the nobleman in the face. "The
-picture isn't good enough for Mlle. de Bergerac, but it's too good for
-any one else"; and he drew it out of the other's hands, tore it across,
-and applied it to the flame of the lamp.
-
-We went back to the château in silence. The drawing-room was empty; but
-as we went in, the Vicomte took a lighted candle from a table and raised
-it to the young girl's face. "_Parbleu!_" he exclaimed, "the vagabond
-had looked at you to good purpose!"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac gave a half-confused laugh. "At any rate," she said,
-"he didn't hold a candle to me as if I were my old smoke-stained
-grandame, yonder!" and she blew out the light. "I'll call my brother,"
-she said, preparing to retire.
-
-"A moment," said her lover; "I shall not see you for some weeks. I shall
-start to-morrow with my uncle. I shall think of you by day, and dream of
-you by night. And meanwhile I shall very much doubt whether you think of
-me."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac smiled. "Doubt, doubt. It will help you to pass the
-time. With faith alone it would hang very heavy."
-
-"It seems hard," pursued M. de Treuil, "that I should give you so many
-pledges, and that you should give me none."
-
-"I give all I ask."
-
-"Then, for Heaven's sake, ask for something!"
-
-"Your kind words are all I want."
-
-"Then give me some kind word yourself."
-
-"What shall I say. Vicomte?"
-
-"Say,--say that you'll wait for me."
-
-They were standing in the centre of the great saloon, their figures
-reflected by the light of a couple of candles in the shining inlaid
-floor. Mlle. de Bergerac walked away a few steps with a look of
-agitation. Then turning about, "Vicomte," she asked, in a deep, full
-voice, "do you truly love me?"
-
-"Ah, Gabrielle!" cried the young man.
-
-I take it that no woman can hear her baptismal name uttered for the
-first time as that of Mlle. de Bergerac then came from her suitor's lips
-without being thrilled with joy and pride.
-
-"Well, M. de Treuil," she said, "I will wait for you."
-
-
-
-
-PART II
-
-
-I remember distinctly the incidents of that summer at Bergerac; or at
-least its general character, its tone. It was a hot, dry season; we
-lived with doors and windows open. M. Coquelin suffered very much from
-the heat, and sometimes, for days together, my lessons were suspended.
-We put our books away and rambled out for a long day in the fields. My
-tutor was perfectly faithful; he never allowed me to wander beyond call.
-I was very fond of fishing, and I used to sit for hours, like a little
-old man, with my legs dangling over the bank of our slender river,
-patiently awaiting the bite that so seldom came. Near at hand, in the
-shade, stretched at his length on the grass, Coquelin read and re-read
-one of his half dozen Greek and Latin poets. If we had walked far from
-home, we used to go and ask for some dinner at the hut of a neighboring
-peasant. For a very small coin we got enough bread and cheese and small
-fruit to keep us over till supper. The peasants, stupid and squalid as
-they were, always received us civilly enough, though on Coquelin's
-account quite as much as on my own. He addressed them with an easy
-familiarity, which made them feel, I suppose, that he was, if not quite
-one of themselves, at least by birth and sympathies much nearer to them
-than to the future Baron de Bergerac. He gave me in the course of these
-walks a great deal of good advice; and without perverting my signorial
-morals or instilling any notions that were treason to my rank and
-position, he kindled in my childish breast a little democratic flame
-which has never quite become extinct. He taught me the beauty of
-humanity, justice, and tolerance; and whenever he detected me in a
-precocious attempt to assert my baronial rights over the wretched little
-_manants_ who crossed my path, he gave me morally a very hard drubbing. He
-had none of the base complaisance and cynical nonchalance of the
-traditional tutor of our old novels and comedies. Later in life I might
-have found him too rigorous a moralist; but in those days I liked him
-all the better for letting me sometimes feel the curb. It gave me a
-highly agreeable sense of importance and a maturity. It was a tribute to
-half-divined possibilities of naughtiness. In the afternoon, when I was
-tired of fishing, he would lie with his thumb in his book and his eyes
-half closed and tell me fairy-tales till the eyes of both of us closed
-together. Do the instructors of youth nowadays condescend to the
-fairy-tale pure and simple? Coquelin's stories belonged to the old, old
-world: no political economy, no physics, no application to anything in
-life. Do you remember in Doré's illustrations to Perrault's tales, the
-picture of the enchanted castle of the Sleeping Beauty? Back in the
-distance, in the bosom of an ancient park and surrounded by thick
-baronial woods which blacken all the gloomy horizon, on the farther side
-of a great abysmal hollow of tangled forest verdure, rise the long
-façade, the moss-grown terraces, the towers, the purple roofs, of a
-château of the time of Henry IV. Its massive foundations plunge far
-down into the wild chasm of the woodland, and its cold pinnacles of
-slate tower upwards, close to the rolling autumn clouds. The afternoon
-is closing in and a chill October wind is beginning to set the forest
-a-howling. In the foreground, on an elevation beneath a mighty oak,
-stand a couple of old woodcutters pointing across into the enchanted
-distance and answering the questions of the young prince. They are the
-bent and blackened woodcutters of old France, of La Fontaine's Fables
-and the _Médecin malgré lui._ What does the castle contain? What
-secret is locked in its stately walls? What revel is enacted in its long
-saloons? What strange figures stand aloof from its vacant windows? You
-ask the question, and the answer is a long revery. I never look at the
-picture without thinking of those summer afternoons in the woods and of
-Coquelin's long stories. His fairies were the fairies of the _Grand
-Siècle_, and his princes and shepherds the godsons of Perrault and
-Madame d'Aulnay. They lived in such palaces and they hunted in such
-woods.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac, to all appearance, was not likely to break her
-promise to M. de Treuil,--for lack of the opportunity, quite as much as
-of the will. Those bright summer days must have seemed very long to her,
-and I can't for my life imagine what she did with her time. But she,
-too, as she had told the Vicomte, was very fond of the green fields; and
-although she never wandered very far from the house, she spent many an
-hour in the open air. Neither here nor within doors was she likely to
-encounter the happy man of whom the Vicomte might be jealous. Mlle. de
-Bergerac had a friend, a single intimate friend, who came sometimes to
-pass the day with her, and whose visits she occasionally returned. Marie
-de Chalais, the granddaughter of the Marquis de Chalais, who lived some
-ten miles away, was in all respects the exact counterpart and foil of my
-aunt. She was extremely plain, but with that sprightly, highly seasoned
-ugliness which is often so agreeable to men. Short, spare, swarthy,
-light, with an immense mouth, a most impertinent little nose, an
-imperceptible foot, a charming hand, and a delightful voice, she was, in
-spite of her great name and her fine clothes, the very ideal of the old
-stage soubrette. Frequently, indeed, in her dress and manner, she used
-to provoke a comparison with this incomparable type. A cap, an apron,
-and a short petticoat were all sufficient; with these and her bold, dark
-eyes she could impersonate the very genius of impertinence and intrigue.
-She was a thoroughly light creature, and later in life, after her
-marriage, she became famous for her ugliness, her witticisms, and her
-adventures; but that she had a good heart is shown by her real
-attachment to my aunt. They were forever at cross-purposes, and yet they
-were excellent friends. When my aunt wished to walk, Mlle. de Chalais
-wished to sit still; when Mlle. de Chalais wished to laugh, my aunt
-wished to meditate; when my aunt wished to talk piety, Mlle. de Chalais
-wished to talk scandal. Mlle. de Bergerac, however, usually carried the
-day and set the tune. There was nothing on earth that Marie de Chalais
-so despised as the green fields; and yet you might have seen her a dozen
-times that summer wandering over the domain of Bergerac, in a short
-muslin dress and a straw hat, with her arm entwined about the waist of
-her more stately friend. We used often to meet them, and as we drew near
-Mlle. de Chalais would always stop and offer to kiss the Chevalier. By
-this pretty trick Coquelin was subjected for a few moments to the
-influence of her innocent _agaçeries_; for rather than have no man at
-all to prick with the little darts of her coquetry, the poor girl would
-have gone off and made eyes at the scare-crow in the wheat-field.
-Coquelin was not at all abashed by her harmless advances; for although,
-in addressing my aunt, he was apt to lose his voice or his countenance,
-he often showed a very pretty wit in answering Mlle. de Chalais.
-
-On one occasion she spent several days at Bergerac, and during her stay
-she proffered an urgent entreaty that my aunt should go back with her to
-her grandfather's house, where, having no parents, she lived with her
-governess. Mlle. de Bergerac declined, on the ground of having no gowns
-fit to visit in; whereupon Mlle. de Chalais went to my mother, begged
-the gift of an old blue silk dress, and with her own cunning little
-hands made it over for my aunt's figure. That evening Mlle. de Bergerac
-appeared at supper in this renovated garment,--the first silk gown she
-had ever worn. Mlle. de Chalais had also dressed her hair, and decked
-her out with a number of trinkets and furbelows; and when the two came
-into the room together, they reminded me of the beautiful Duchess in Don
-Quixote, followed by a little dark-visaged Spanish waiting-maid. The
-next morning Coquelin and I rambled off as usual in search of
-adventures, and the day after that they were to leave the château.
-Whether we met with any adventures or not I forget; but we found
-ourselves at dinner-time at some distance from home, very hungry after a
-long tramp. We directed our steps to a little roadside hovel, where we
-had already purchased hospitality, and made our way in unannounced. We
-were somewhat surprised at the scene that met our eyes.
-
-On a wretched bed at the farther end of the hut lay the master of the
-household, a young peasant whom we had seen a fortnight before in full
-health and vigor. At the head of the bed stood his wife, moaning,
-crying, and wringing her hands. Hanging about her, clinging to her
-skirts, and adding their piping cries to her own lamentations, were four
-little children, unwashed, unfed, and half clad. At the foot, facing the
-dying man, knelt his old mother--a horrible hag, so bent and brown and
-wrinkled with labor and age that there was nothing womanly left of her
-but her coarse, rude dress and cap, nothing of maternity but her sobs.
-Beside the pillow stood the priest, who had apparently just discharged
-the last offices of the Church. On the other side, on her knees, with
-the poor fellow's hand in her own, knelt Mlle. de Bergerac, like a
-consoling angel. On a stool near the door, looking on from a distance,
-sat Mlle. de Chalais, holding a little bleating kid in her arms. When
-she saw us, she started up. "Ah, M. Coquelin!" she cried, "do persuade
-Mlle. de Bergerac to leave this horrible place."
-
-I saw Mlle. de Bergerac look at the curé and shake her head, as if to
-say that it was all over. She rose from her knees and went round to the
-wife, telling the same tale with her face. The poor, squalid _paysanne_
-gave a sort of savage, stupid cry, and threw herself and her rags on the
-young girl's neck. Mlle. de Bergerac caressed her, and whispered heaven
-knows what divinely simple words of comfort. Then, for the first time,
-she saw Coquelin and me, and beckoned us to approach.
-
-"Chevalier," she said, still holding the woman on her breast, "have you
-got any money?"
-
-At these words the woman raised her head. I signified that I was
-penniless.
-
-My aunt frowned impatiently. "M. Coquelin, have you?"
-
-Coquelin drew forth a single small piece, all that he possessed; for it
-was the end of his month. Mlle. de Bergerac took it, and pursued her
-inquiry.
-
-"Curé, have you any money?"
-
-"Not a sou," said the curé, smiling sweetly.
-
-"Bah!" said Mlle. de Bergerac, with a sort of tragic petulance. "What
-can I do with twelve sous?"
-
-"Give it all the same," said the woman, doggedly, putting out her hand.
-
-"They want money," said Mlle de Bergerac, lowering her voice to
-Coquelin. "They have had this great sorrow, but a _louis d'or_ would
-dull the wound. But we're all penniless. O for the sight of a little
-gold!"
-
-"I have a _louis_ at home," said I; and I felt Coquelin lay his hand on
-my head.
-
-"What was the matter with the husband?" he asked.
-
-"_Mon Dieu!_" said my aunt, glancing round at the bed. "I don't know."
-
-Coquelin looked at her, half amazed, half worshipping.
-
-"Who are they, these people? What are they?" she asked.
-
-"Mademoiselle," said Coquelin, fervently, "you're an angel!"
-
-"I wish I were," said Mlle. de Bergerac, simply; and she turned to the
-old mother.
-
-We walked home together,--the curé with Mlle. de Chalais and me, and
-Mlle. de Bergerac in front with Coquelin. Asking how the two young girls
-had found their way to the deathbed we had just left, I learned from
-Mlle. de Chalais that they had set out for a stroll together, and,
-striking into a footpath across the fields, had gone farther than they
-supposed, and lost their way. While they were trying to recover it, they
-came upon the wretched hut where we had found them, and were struck by
-the sight of two children, standing crying at the door. Mlle. de
-Bergerac had stopped and questioned them to ascertain the cause of their
-sorrow, which with some difficulty she found to be that their father was
-dying of a fever. Whereupon, in spite of her companion's lively
-opposition, she had entered the miserable abode, and taken her place at
-the wretched couch, in the position in which we had discovered her. All
-this, doubtless, implied no extraordinary merit on Mlle. de Bergerac's
-part; but it placed her in a gracious, pleasing light.
-
-The next morning the young girls went off in the great coach of M. de
-Chalais, which had been sent for them overnight, my father riding along
-as an escort. My aunt was absent a week, and I think I may say we keenly
-missed her. When I say we, I mean Coquelin and I, and when I say
-Coquelin and I, I mean Coquelin in particular; for it had come to this,
-that my tutor was roundly in love with my aunt. I didn't know it then,
-of course; but looking back, I see that he must already have been
-stirred to his soul's depths. Young as I was, moreover, I believe that I
-even then suspected his passion, and, loving him as I did, watched it
-with a vague, childish awe and sympathy. My aunt was to me, of course, a
-very old story, and I am sure she neither charmed nor dazzled my boyish
-fancy. I was quite too young to apprehend the meaning or the
-consequences of Coquelin's feelings; but I knew that he had a secret,
-and I wished him joy of it. He kept so jealous a guard on it that I
-would have defied my elders to discover the least reason for accusing
-him; but with a simple child of ten, thinking himself alone and
-uninterpreted, he showed himself plainly a lover. He was absent,
-restless, preoccupied; now steeped in languid revery, now pacing up and
-down with the exaltation of something akin to hope. Hope itself he could
-never have felt; for it must have seemed to him that his passion was so
-audacious as almost to be criminal. Mlle. de Bergerac's absence showed
-him, I imagine, that to know her had been the event of his life; to see
-her across the table, to hear her voice, her tread, to pass her, to meet
-her eye, a deep, consoling, healing joy. It revealed to him the force
-with which she had grasped his heart, and I think he was half frightened
-at the energy of his passion.
-
-One evening, while Mlle. de Bergerac was still away, I sat in his
-window, committing my lesson for the morrow by the waning light. He was
-walking up and down among the shadows. "Chevalier," said he, suddenly,
-"what should you do if I were to leave you?"
-
-My poor little heart stood still. "Leave me?" I cried, aghast; "why
-should you leave me?"
-
-"Why, you know I didn't come to stay forever."
-
-"But you came to stay till I'm a man grown. Don't you like your place?"
-
-"Perfectly."
-
-"Don't you like my father?"
-
-"Your father is excellent."
-
-"And my mother?"
-
-"Your mother is perfect."
-
-"And me, Coquelin?"
-
-"You, Chevalier, are a little goose."
-
-And then, from a sort of unreasoned instinct that Mlle. de Bergerac was
-somehow connected with his idea of going away, "And my aunt?" I added.
-
-"How, your aunt?"
-
-"Don't you like her?"
-
-Coquelin had stopped in his walk, and stood near me and above me. He
-looked at me some moments without answering, and then sat down beside me
-in the window-seat, and laid his hand on my head.
-
-"Chevalier," he said, "I will tell you something."
-
-"Well?" said I, after I had waited some time.
-
-"One of these days you will be a man grown, and I shall have left you
-long before that. You'll learn a great many things that you don't know
-now. You'll learn what a strange, vast world it is, and what strange
-creatures men are--and women; how strong, how weak, how happy, how
-unhappy. You'll learn how many feelings and passions they have, and what
-a power of joy and of suffering. You'll be Baron de Bergerac and master
-of the château and of this little house. You'll sometimes be very proud
-of your title, and you'll sometimes feel very sad that it's so little
-more than a bare title. But neither your pride nor your grief will come
-to anything beside this, that one day, in the prime of your youth and
-strength and good looks, you'll see a woman whom you will love more than
-all these things,--more than your name, your lands, your youth, and
-strength, and beauty. It happens to all men, especially the good ones,
-and you'll be a good one. But the woman you love will be far out of your
-reach. She'll be a princess, perhaps she'll be the Queen. How can a poor
-little Baron de Bergerac expect her to look at him? You will give up
-your life for a touch of her hand; but what will she care for your life
-or your death? You'll curse your love, and yet you'll bless it, and
-perhaps--not having your living to get--you'll come up here and shut
-yourself up with your dreams and regrets. You'll come perhaps into this
-pavilion, and sit here alone in the twilight. And then, my child, you'll
-remember this evening; that I foretold it all and gave you my blessing
-in advance and--kissed you." He bent over, and I felt his burning lips
-on my forehead.
-
-I understood hardly a word of what he said; but whether it was that I
-was terrified by his picture of the possible insignificance of a Baron
-de Bergerac, or that I was vaguely overawed by his deep, solemn tones, I
-know not; but my eyes very quietly began to emit a flood of tears. The
-effect of my grief was to induce him to assure me that he had no present
-intention of leaving me. It was not, of course, till later in life,
-that, thinking over the situation, I understood his impulse to arrest
-his hopeless passion for Mlle. de Bergerac by immediate departure. He
-was not brave in time.
-
-At the end of a week she returned one evening as we were at supper. She
-came in with M. de Chalais, an amiable old man, who had been so kind as
-to accompany her. She greeted us severally, and nodded to Coquelin. She
-talked, I remember, with great volubility, relating what she had seen
-and done in her absence, and laughing with extraordinary freedom. As we
-left the table, she took my hand, and I put out the other and took
-Coquelin's.
-
-"Has the Chevalier been a good boy?" she asked.
-
-"Perfect," said Coquelin; "but he has wanted his aunt sadly."
-
-"Not at all," said I, resenting the imputation as derogatory to my
-independence.
-
-"You have had a pleasant week, mademoiselle?" said Coquelin.
-
-"A charming week. And you?"
-
-"M. Coquelin has been very unhappy," said I. "He thought of going away."
-
-"Ah?" said my aunt.
-
-Coquelin was silent.
-
-"You think of going away?"
-
-"I merely spoke of it, mademoiselle. I must go away some time, you know.
-The Chevalier looks upon me as something eternal."
-
-"What's eternal?" asked the Chevalier.
-
-"There is nothing eternal, my child," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "Nothing
-lasts more than a moment."
-
-"O," said Coquelin, "I don't agree with you!"
-
-"You don't believe that in this world everything is vain and fleeting
-and transitory?"
-
-"By no means; I believe in the permanence of many things."
-
-"Of what, for instance?"
-
-"Well, of sentiments and passions."
-
-"Very likely. But not of the hearts that hold them. 'Lovers die, but
-love survives.' I heard a gentleman say that at Chalais."
-
-"It's better, at least, than if he had put it the other way. But lovers
-last too. They survive; they outlive the things that would fain destroy
-them,--indifference, denial, and despair."
-
-"But meanwhile the loved object disappears. When it isn't one, it's the
-other."
-
-"O, I admit that it's a shifting world. But I have a philosophy for
-that."
-
-"I'm curious to know your philosophy."
-
-"It's a very old one. It's simply to make the most of life while it
-lasts. I'm very fond of life," said Coquelin, laughing.
-
-"I should say that as yet, from what I know of your history, you have
-had no great reason to be."
-
-"Nay, it's like a cruel mistress," said Coquelin. "When once you love
-her, she's absolute. Her hard usage doesn't affect you. And certainly I
-have nothing to complain of now."
-
-"You're happy here then?"
-
-"Profoundly, mademoiselle, in spite of the Chevalier."
-
-"I should suppose that with your tastes you would prefer something more
-active, more ardent."
-
-"_Mon Dieu_, my tastes are very simple. And then--happiness, _cela ne se
-raisonne pas._ You don't find it when you go in quest of it. It's like
-fortune; it comes to you in your sleep."
-
-"I imagine," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "that I was never happy."
-
-"That's a sad story," said Coquelin.
-
-The young girl began to laugh. "And never unhappy."
-
-"Dear me, that's still worse. Never fear, it will come."
-
-"What will come?"
-
-"That which is both bliss and misery at once."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac hesitated a moment. "And what is this strange thing?"
-she asked.
-
-On his side Coquelin was silent. "When it comes to you," he said, at
-last, "you'll tell me what you call it."
-
-About a week after this, at breakfast, in pursuance of an urgent request
-of mine, Coquelin proposed to my father to allow him to take me to visit
-the ruins of an ancient feudal castle some four leagues distant, which
-he had observed and explored while he trudged across the country on his
-way to Bergerac, and which, indeed, although the taste for ruins was at
-that time by no means so general as since the Revolution (when one may
-say it was in a measure created), enjoyed a certain notoriety throughout
-the province. My father good-naturedly consented; and as the distance
-was too great to be achieved on foot, he placed his two old coach-horses
-at our service. You know that although I affected, in boyish sort, to
-have been indifferent to my aunt's absence, I was really very fond of
-her, and it occurred to me that our excursion would be more solemn and
-splendid for her taking part in it. So I appealed to my father and asked
-if Mlle. de Bergerac might be allowed to go with us. What the Baron
-would have decided had he been left to himself I know not; but happily
-for our cause my mother cried out that, to her mind, it was highly
-improper that her sister-in-law should travel twenty miles alone with
-two young men.
-
-"One of your young men is a child," said my father, "and her nephew into
-the bargain; and the other,"--and he laughed, coarsely but not
-ill-humoredly,--"the other is--Coquelin!"
-
-"Coquelin is not a child nor is mademoiselle either," said my mother.
-
-"All the more reason for their going, Gabrielle, will you go?" My
-father, I fear, was not remarkable in general for his tenderness or his
-_prévenance_ for the poor girl whom fortune had given him to protect;
-but from time to time he would wake up to a downright sense of kinship
-and duty, kindled by the pardonable aggressions of my mother, between
-whom and her sister-in-law there existed a singular antagonism of
-temper.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac looked at my father intently and with a little blush.
-"Yes, brother. I'll go. The Chevalier can take me _en croupe._"
-
-So we started, Coquelin on one horse, and I on the other, with my aunt
-mounted behind me. Our sport for the first part of the journey consisted
-chiefly in my urging my beast into a somewhat ponderous gallop, so as to
-terrify my aunt, who was not very sure of her seat, and who, at moments,
-between pleading and laughing, had hard work to preserve her balance. At
-these times Coquelin would ride close alongside of us, at the same
-cumbersome pace, declaring himself ready to catch the young girl if she
-fell. In this way we jolted along, in a cloud of dust, with shouts and
-laughter.
-
-"Madame the Baronne was wrong," said Coquelin, "in denying that we are
-children."
-
-"O, this is nothing yet," cried my aunt.
-
-The castle of Fossy lifted its dark and crumbling towers with a decided
-air of feudal arrogance from the summit of a gentle eminence in the
-recess of a shallow gorge among the hills. Exactly when it had
-flourished and when it had decayed I knew not, but in the year of grace
-of our pilgrimage it was a truly venerable, almost a formidable, ruin.
-Two great towers were standing,--one of them diminished by half its
-upper elevation, and the other sadly scathed and shattered, but still
-exposing its hoary head to the weather, and offering the sullen
-hospitality of its empty skull to a colony of swallows. I shall never
-forget that day at Fossy; it was one of those long raptures of childhood
-which seem to imprint upon the mind an ineffaceable stain of light. The
-novelty and mystery of the dilapidated fortress,--its antiquity, its
-intricacy, its sounding vaults and corridors, its inaccessible heights
-and impenetrable depths, the broad sunny glare of its grass-grown courts
-and yards, the twilight of its passages and midnight of its dungeons,
-and along with all this my freedom to rove and scramble, my perpetual
-curiosity, my lusty absorption of the sun-warmed air, and the contagion
-of my companions' careless and sensuous mirth,--all these things
-combined to make our excursion one of the memorable events of my youth.
-My two companions accepted the situation and drank in the beauty of the
-day and the richness of the spot with all my own reckless freedom.
-Coquelin was half mad with the joy of spending a whole unbroken summer's
-day with the woman whom he secretly loved. He was all motion and humor
-and resonant laughter; and yet intermingled with his random gayety there
-lurked a solemn sweetness and reticence, a feverish concentration of
-thought, which to a woman with a woman's senses must have fairly
-betrayed his passion. Mlle. de Bergerac, without quite putting aside her
-natural dignity and gravity of mien, lent herself with a charming
-girlish energy to the undisciplined spirit of the hour.
-
-Our first thoughts, after Coquelin had turned the horses to pasture in
-one of the grassy courts of the castle, were naturally bestowed upon our
-little basket of provisions; and our first act was to sit down on a heap
-of fallen masonry and divide its contents. After that we wandered. We
-climbed the still practicable staircases, and wedged ourselves into the
-turrets and strolled through the chambers and halls; we started from
-their long repose every echo and bat and owl within the innumerable
-walls.
-
-Finally, after we had rambled a couple of hours, Mlle. de Bergerac
-betrayed signs of fatigue. Coquelin went with her in search of a place
-of rest, and I was left to my own devices. For an hour I found plenty of
-diversion, at the end of which I returned to my friends. I had some
-difficulty in finding them. They had mounted by an imperfect and
-somewhat perilous ascent to one of the upper platforms of the castle.
-Mlle. de Bergerac was sitting in a listless posture on a block of stone,
-against the wall, in the shadow of the still surviving tower; opposite,
-in the light, half leaning, half sitting on the parapet of the terrace,
-was her companion.
-
-"For the last half-hour, mademoiselle," said Coquelin, as I came up,
-"you've not spoken a word."
-
-"All the morning," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "I've been scrambling and
-chattering and laughing. Now, by reaction, I'm _triste._"
-
-"I protest, so am I," said Coquelin. "The truth is, this old feudal
-fortress is a decidedly melancholy spot. It's haunted with the ghost of
-the past. It smells of tragedies, sorrows, and cruelties." He uttered
-these words with singular emphasis. "It's a horrible place," he pursued,
-with a shudder.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac began to laugh. "It's odd that we should only just now
-have discovered it!"
-
-"No, it's like the history of that abominable past of which it's a
-relic. At the first glance we see nothing but the great proportions, the
-show, and the splendor; but when we come to explore, we detect a vast
-underground world of iniquity and suffering. Only half this castle is
-above the soil; the rest is dungeons and vaults and _oubliettes._"
-
-"Nevertheless," said the young girl, "I should have liked to live in
-those old days. Shouldn't you?"
-
-"Verily, no, mademoiselle!" And then after a pause, with a certain
-irrepressible bitterness: "Life is hard enough now."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac stared but said nothing.
-
-"In those good old days," Coquelin resumed, "I should have been a
-brutal, senseless peasant, yoked down like an ox, with my forehead in
-the soil. Or else I should have been a trembling, groaning, fasting
-monk, moaning my soul away in the ecstasies of faith."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac rose and came to the edge of the platform. "Was no
-other career open in those days?"
-
-"To such a one as me,--no. As I say, mademoiselle, life is hard now, but
-it was a mere dead weight then. I know it was. I feel in my bones and
-pulses that awful burden of despair under which my wretched ancestors
-struggled. _Tenez_, I'm the great man of the race. My father came next;
-he was one of four brothers, who all thought it a prodigious rise in the
-world when he became a village tailor. If we had lived five hundred
-years ago, in the shadow of these great towers, we should never have
-risen at all. We should have stuck with our feet in the clay. As I'm not
-a fighting man, I suppose I should have gone into the Church. If I
-hadn't died from an overdose of inanition, very likely I might have
-lived to be a cardinal."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac leaned against the parapet, and with a meditative
-droop of the head looked down the little glen toward the plain and the
-highway. "For myself," she said, "I can imagine very charming things of
-life in this castle of Fossy."
-
-"For yourself, very likely."
-
-"Fancy the great moat below filled with water and sheeted with lilies,
-and the drawbridge lowered, and a company of knights riding into the
-gates. Within, in one of those vaulted, quaintly timbered rooms, the
-châtelaine stands ready to receive them, with her women, her chaplain,
-her physician, and her little page. They come clanking up the staircase,
-with ringing swords, sweeping the ground with their plumes. They are all
-brave and splendid and fierce, but one of them far more than the rest.
-They each bend a knee to the lady--"
-
-"But he bends two," cried Coquelin. "They wander apart into one of those
-deep embrasures and spin the threads of perfect love. Ah, I could fancy
-a sweet life, in those days, mademoiselle, if I could only fancy myself
-a knight!"
-
-"And you can't," said the young girl, gravely, looking at him.
-
-"It's an idle game; it's not worth trying."
-
-"Apparently then, you're a cynic; you have an equally small opinion of
-the past and the present."
-
-"No; you do me injustice."
-
-"But you say that life is hard."
-
-"I speak not for myself, but for others; for my brothers and sisters and
-kinsmen in all degrees; for the great mass of petits gens of my own
-class."
-
-"Dear me, M. Coquelin, while you're about it, you can speak for others
-still; for poor portionless girls, for instance."
-
-"Are they very much to be pitied?"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac was silent. "After all," she resumed, "they oughtn't
-to complain."
-
-"Not when they have a great name and beauty," said Coquelin.
-
-"O heaven!" said the young girl, impatiently, and turned away. Coquelin
-stood watching her, his brow contracted, his lips parted. Presently, she
-came back. "Perhaps you think," she said, "that I care for my name,--my
-great name, as you call it."
-
-"Assuredly, I do."
-
-She stood looking at him, blushing a little and frowning. As he said
-these words, she gave an impatient toss of the head and turned away
-again. In her hand she carried an ornamented fan, an antiquated and
-sadly dilapidated instrument. She suddenly raised it above her head,
-swung it a moment, and threw it far across the parapet. "There goes the
-name of Bergerac!" she said; and sweeping round, made the young man a
-very low courtesy.
-
-There was in the whole action a certain passionate freedom which set
-poor Coquelin's heart a-throbbing. "To have a good name, mademoiselle,"
-he said, "and to be indifferent to it, is the sign of a noble mind." (In
-parenthesis, I may say that I think he was quite wrong.)
-
-"It's quite as noble, monsieur," returned my aunt, "to have a small name
-and not to blush for it."
-
-With these words I fancy they felt as if they had said enough; the
-conversation was growing rather too pointed.
-
-"I think," said my aunt, "that we had better prepare to go." And she
-cast a farewell glance at the broad expanse of country which lay
-stretched out beneath us, striped with the long afternoon shadows.
-
-Coquelin followed the direction of her eyes. "I wish very much," he
-said, "that before we go we might be able to make our way up into the
-summit of the great tower. It would be worth the attempt. The view from
-here, charming as it is, must be only a fragment of what you see from
-that topmost platform."
-
-"It's not likely," said my aunt, "that the staircase is still in a state
-to be used."
-
-"Possibly not; but we can see."
-
-"Nay," insisted my aunt, "I'm afraid to trust the Chevalier. There are
-great breaches in the sides of the ascent, which are so many open doors
-to destruction."
-
-I strongly opposed this view of the case; but Coquelin, after scanning
-the elevation of the tower and such of the fissures as were visible from
-our standpoint, declared that my aunt was right and that it was my duty
-to comply. "And you, too, mademoiselle," he said, "had better not try
-it, unless you pride yourself on your strong head."
-
-"No, indeed, I have a particularly weak one. And you?"
-
-"I confess I'm very curious to see the view. I always want to read to
-the end of a book, to walk to the turn of a road, and to climb to the
-top of a building."
-
-"Good," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "We'll wait for you."
-
-Although in a straight line from the spot which we occupied, the
-distance through the air to the rugged sides of the great cylinder of
-masonry which frowned above us was not more than thirty yards, Coquelin
-was obliged, in order to strike at the nearest accessible point the
-winding staircase which clung to its massive ribs, to retrace his steps
-through the interior of the castle and make a _détour_ of some five
-minutes' duration. In ten minutes more he showed himself at an aperture
-in the wall, facing our terrace.
-
-"How do you prosper?" cried my aunt, raising her voice.
-
-"I've mounted eighty steps," he shouted; "I've a hundred more."
-Presently he appeared again at another opening. "The steps have
-stopped," he cried.
-
-"You've only to stop too," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac. Again he was lost
-to sight and we supposed he was returning. A quarter of an hour elapsed,
-and we began to wonder at his not having overtaken us, when we heard a
-loud call high above our heads. There he stood, on the summit of the
-edifice, waving his hat. At this point he was so far above us that it
-was difficult to communicate by sounds, in spite of our curiosity to
-know how, in the absence of a staircase, he had effected the rest of the
-ascent. He began to represent, by gestures of pretended rapture, the
-immensity and beauty of the prospect. Finally Mlle. de Bergerac beckoned
-to him to descend, and pointed to the declining sun, informing him at
-the same time that we would go down and meet him in the lower part of
-the castle. We left the terrace accordingly, and, making the best of our
-way through the intricate passages of the edifice, at last, not without
-a feeling of relief, found ourselves on the level earth. We waited quite
-half an hour without seeing anything of our companion. My aunt, I could
-see, had become anxious, although she endeavored to appear at her ease.
-As the time elapsed, however, it became so evident that Coquelin had
-encountered some serious obstacle to his descent, that Mlle. de Bergerac
-proposed we should, in so far as was possible, betake ourselves to his
-assistance. The point was to approach him within speaking distance.
-
-We entered the body of the castle again, climbed to one of the upper
-levels, and reached a spot where an extensive destruction of the
-external wall partially exposed the great tower. As we approached this
-crumbling breach, Mlle. de Bergerac drew back from its brink with a loud
-cry of horror. It was not long before I discerned the cause of her
-movement. The side of the tower visible from where we stood presented a
-vast yawning fissure, which explained the interruption of the staircase,
-the latter having fallen for want of support. The central column, to
-which the steps had been fastened, seemed, nevertheless, still to be
-erect, and to have formed, with the agglomeration of fallen fragments
-and various occasional projections of masonry, the means by which
-Coquelin, with extraordinary courage and skill, had reached the topmost
-platform. The ascent, then, had been possible; the descent, curiously
-enough, he seemed to have found another matter; and after striving in
-vain to retrace his footsteps, had been obliged to commit himself to the
-dangerous experiment of passing from the tower to the external surface
-of the main fortress. He had accomplished half his journey and now stood
-directly over against us in a posture which caused my young limbs to
-stiffen with dismay. The point to which he had directed himself was
-apparently the breach at which we stood; meanwhile he had paused,
-clinging in mid-air to heaven knows what narrow ledge or flimsy iron
-clump in the stone-work, and straining his nerves to an agonized tension
-in the effort not to fall, while his eyes vaguely wandered in quest of
-another footing. The wall of the castle was so immensely thick, that
-wherever he could embrace its entire section, progress was comparatively
-easy; the more especially as, above our heads, this same wall had been
-demolished in such a way as to maintain a rapid upward inclination to
-the point where it communicated with the tower.
-
-I stood staring at Coquelin with my heart in my throat, forgetting (or
-rather too young to reflect) that the sudden shock of seeing me where I
-was might prove fatal to his equipoise. He perceived me, however, and
-tried to smile. "Don't be afraid," he cried, "I'll be with you in a
-moment." My aunt, who had fallen back, returned to the aperture, and
-gazed at him with pale cheeks and clasped hands. He made a long step
-forward, successfully, and, as he recovered himself, caught sight of her
-face and looked at her with fearful intentness. Then seeing, I suppose,
-that she was sickened by his insecurity, he disengaged one hand and
-motioned her back. She retreated, paced in a single moment the length of
-the enclosure in which we stood, returned and stopped just short of the
-point at which she would have seen him again. She buried her face in her
-hands, like one muttering a rapid prayer, and then advanced once more
-within range of her friend's vision. As she looked at him, clinging in
-mid-air and planting step after step on the jagged and treacherous edge
-of the immense perpendicular chasm, she repressed another loud cry only
-by thrusting her handkerchief into her mouth. He caught her eyes again,
-gazed into them with piercing keenness, as if to drink in coolness and
-confidence, and then, as she closed them again in horror, motioned me
-with his head to lead her away. She returned to the farther end of the
-apartment and leaned her head against the wall. I remained staring at
-poor Coquelin, fascinated by the spectacle of his mingled danger and
-courage. Inch by inch, yard by yard, I saw him lessen the interval which
-threatened his life. It was a horrible, beautiful sight. Some five
-minutes elapsed; they seemed like fifty. The last few yards he
-accomplished with a rush; he reached the window which was the goal of
-his efforts, swung himself in and let himself down by a prodigious leap
-to the level on which we stood. Here he stopped, pale, lacerated, and
-drenched with perspiration. He put out his hand to Mlle. de Bergerac,
-who, at the sound of his steps, had turned herself about. On seeing him
-she made a few steps forward and burst into tears. I took his extended
-hand. He bent over me and kissed me, and then giving me a push, "Go and
-kiss your poor aunt," he said. Mlle. de Bergerac clasped me to her
-breast with a most convulsive pressure. From that moment till we reached
-home, there was very little said. Both my companions had matter for
-silent reflection,--Mlle. de Bergerac in the deep significance of that
-offered hand, and Coquelin in the rich avowal of her tears.
-
-
-
-
-PART III
-
-
-A week after this memorable visit to Fossy, in emulation of my good
-preceptor, I treated my friends, or myself at least, to a five minutes'
-fright. Wandering beside the river one day when Coquelin had been
-detained within doors to overlook some accounts for my father, I amused
-myself, where the bank projected slightly over the stream, with kicking
-the earth away in fragments, and watching it borne down the current. The
-result may be anticipated: I came very near going the way of those same
-fragments. I lost my foothold and fell into the stream, which, however,
-was so shallow as to offer no great obstacle to self-preservation. I
-scrambled ashore, wet to the bone, and, feeling rather ashamed of my
-misadventure, skulked about in the fields for a couple of hours, in my
-dripping clothes. Finally, there being no sun and my garments remaining
-inexorably damp, my teeth began to chatter and my limbs to ache. I went
-home and surrendered myself. Here again the result may be foreseen: the
-next day I was laid up with a high fever.
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac, as I afterwards learned, immediately appointed
-herself my nurse, removed me from my little sleeping-closet to her own
-room, and watched me with the most tender care. My illness lasted some
-ten days, my convalescence a week. When I began to mend, my bed was
-transferred to an unoccupied room adjoining my aunt's. Here, late one
-afternoon, I lay languidly singing to myself and watching the western
-sunbeams shimmering on the opposite wall. If you were ever ill as a
-child, you will remember such moments. You look by the hour at your
-thin, white hands; you listen to the sounds in the house, the opening of
-doors and the tread of feet; you murmur strange odds and ends of talk;
-and you watch the fading of the day and the dark flowering of the night.
-Presently my aunt came in, introducing Coquelin, whom she left by my
-bedside. He sat with me a long time, talking in the old, kind way, and
-gradually lulled me to sleep with the gentle murmur of his voice. When I
-awoke again it was night. The sun was quenched on the opposite wall, but
-through a window on the same side came a broad ray of moonlight. In the
-window sat Coquelin, who had apparently not left the room. Near him was
-Mlle. de Bergerac.
-
-Some time elapsed between my becoming conscious of their presence and my
-distinguishing the sense of the words that were passing between them.
-When I did so, if I had reached the age when one ponders and interprets
-what one hears, I should readily have perceived that since those last
-thrilling moments at Fossy their friendship had taken a very long step,
-and that the secret of each heart had changed place with its mate. But
-even now there was little that was careless and joyous in their young
-love; the first words of Mlle. Bergerac that I distinguished betrayed
-the sombre tinge of their passion.
-
-"I don't care what happens now," she said. "It will always be something
-to have lived through these days."
-
-"You're stronger than I, then," said Coquelin. "I haven't the courage to
-defy the future. I'm afraid to think of it. Ah, why can't we make a
-future of our own?"
-
-"It would be a greater happiness than we have a right to. Who are you,
-Pierre Coquelin, that you should claim the right to marry the girl you
-love, when she's a demoiselle de Bergerac to begin with? And who am I,
-that I should expect to have deserved a greater blessing than that one
-look of your eyes, which I shall never, never forget? It is more than
-enough to watch you and pray for you and worship you in silence."
-
-"What am I? what are you? We are two honest mortals, who have a perfect
-right to repudiate the blessings of God. If ever a passion deserved its
-reward, mademoiselle, it's the absolute love I bear you. It's not a
-spasm, a miracle, or a delusion; it's the most natural emotion of my
-nature."
-
-"We don't live in a natural world, Coquelin. If we did, there would be
-no need of concealing this divine affection. Great heaven! who's
-natural? Is it my sister-in-law? Is it M. de Treuil? Is it my brother?
-My brother is sometimes so natural that he's brutal. Is it I myself?
-There are moments when I'm afraid of my nature."
-
-It was too dark for me to distinguish my companions' faces in the course
-of this singular dialogue; but it's not hard to imagine how, as my aunt
-uttered these words, with a burst of sombre _naïveté_, her lover must
-have turned upon her face the puzzled brightness of his eyes.
-
-"What do you mean?" he asked.
-
-"_Mon Dieu!_ think how I have lived! What a senseless, thoughtless,
-passionless life! What solitude, ignorance, and languor! What trivial
-duties and petty joys! I have fancied myself happy at times, for it was
-God's mercy that I didn't know what I lacked. But now that my soul
-begins to stir and throb and live, it shakes me with its mighty
-pulsations. I feel as if in the mere wantonness of strength and joy it
-might drive me to some extravagance. I seem to feel myself making a
-great rush, with my eyes closed and my heart in my throat And then the
-earth sinks away from under my feet, and in my ears is the sound of a
-dreadful tumult."
-
-"Evidently we have very different ways of feeling. For you our love is
-action, passion; for me it's rest. For you it's romance; for me it's
-reality. For me it's a necessity; for you (how shall I say it?) it's a
-luxury. In point of fact, mademoiselle, how should it be otherwise? When
-a demoiselle de Bergerac bestows her heart upon an obscure adventurer, a
-man born in poverty and servitude, it's a matter of charity, of noble
-generosity."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac received this speech in silence, and for some moments
-nothing was said. At last she resumed: "After all that has passed
-between us, Coquelin, it seems to me a matter neither of generosity nor
-of charity to allude again to that miserable fact of my birth."
-
-"I was only trying to carry out your own idea, and to get at the truth
-with regard to our situation. If our love is worth a straw, we needn't
-be afraid of that. Isn't it true--blessedly true, perhaps, for all I
-know--that you shrink a little from taking me as I am? Except for my
-character, I'm so little! It's impossible to be less of a _personage._
-You can't quite reconcile it to your dignity to love a nobody, so you
-fling over your weakness a veil of mystery and romance and exaltation.
-You regard your passion, perhaps, as more of an escapade, an adventure,
-than it needs to be."
-
-"My 'nobody,'" said Mlle. de Bergerac, gently, "is a very wise man, and
-a great philosopher. I don't understand a word you say."
-
-"Ah, so much the better!" said Coquelin with a little laugh.
-
-"Will you promise me," pursued the young girl, "never again by word or
-deed to allude to the difference of our birth? If you refuse, I shall
-consider you an excellent pedagogue, but no lover."
-
-"Will you in return promise me--"
-
-"Promise you what?"
-
-Coquelin was standing before her, looking at her, with folded arms.
-"Promise me likewise to forget it!"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac stared a moment, and also rose to her feet. "Forget
-it! Is this generous?" she cried. "Is it delicate? I had pretty well
-forgot it, I think, on that dreadful day at Fossy!" Her voice trembled
-and swelled; she burst into tears. Coquelin attempted to remonstrate,
-but she motioned him aside, and swept out of the room.
-
-It must have been a very genuine passion between these two, you'll
-observe, to allow this handling without gloves. Only a plant of hardy
-growth could have endured this chilling blast of discord and
-disputation. Ultimately, indeed, its effect seemed to have been to
-fortify and consecrate their love. This was apparent several days later;
-but I know not what manner of communication they had had in the
-interval. I was much better, but I was still weak and languid. Mlle. de
-Bergerac brought me my breakfast in bed, and then, having helped me to
-rise and dress, led me out into the garden, where she had caused a chair
-to be placed in the shade. While I sat watching the bees and
-butterflies, and pulling the flowers to pieces, she strolled up and down
-the alley close at hand, taking slow stitches in a piece of embroidery.
-We had been so occupied about ten minutes, when Coquelin came towards us
-from his lodge,--by appointment, evidently, for this was a roundabout
-way to the house. Mlle. de Bergerac met him at the end of the path,
-where I could not hear what they said, but only see their gestures. As
-they came along together, she raised both hands to her ears, and shook
-her head with vehemence, as if to refuse to listen to what he was
-urging. When they drew near my resting-place, she had interrupted him.
-
-"No, no, no!" she cried, "I will never forget it to my dying day. How
-should I? How can I look at you without remembering it? It's in your
-face, your figure, your movements, the tones of your voice. It's
-you,--it's what I love in you! It was that which went through my heart
-that day at Fossy. It was the look, the tone, with which you called the
-place horrible; it was your bitter plebeian hate. When you spoke of the
-misery and baseness of your race, I could have cried out in an anguish
-of love! When I contradicted you, and pretended that I prized and
-honored all these tokens of your servitude,--just heaven! you know now
-what my words were worth!"
-
-Coquelin walked beside her with his hands clasped behind him, and his
-eyes fixed on the ground with a look of repressed sensibility. He passed
-his poor little convalescent pupil without heeding him. When they came
-down the path again, the young girl was still talking with the same
-feverish volubility.
-
-"But most of all, the first day, the first hour, when you came up the
-avenue to my brother! I had never seen any one like you. I had seen
-others, but you had something that went to my soul. I devoured you with
-my eyes,--your dusty clothes, your uncombed hair, your pale face, the
-way you held yourself not to seem tired. I went down on my knees, then;
-I haven't been up since."
-
-The poor girl, you see, was completely possessed by her passion, and yet
-she was in a very strait place. For her life she wouldn't recede; and
-yet how was she to advance? There must have been an odd sort of
-simplicity in her way of bestowing her love; or perhaps you'll think it
-an odd sort of subtlety. It seems plain to me now, as I tell the story,
-that Coquelin, with his perfect good sense, was right, and that there
-was, at this moment, a large element of romance in the composition of
-her feelings. She seemed to feel no desire to realize her passion. Her
-hand was already bestowed; fate was inexorable. She wished simply to
-compress a world of bliss into her few remaining hours of freedom.
-
-The day after this interview in the garden I came down to dinner; on the
-next I sat up to supper, and for some time afterwards, thanks to my
-aunt's preoccupation of mind. On rising from the table, my father left
-the château; my mother, who was ailing, returned to her room. Coquelin
-disappeared, under pretence of going to his own apartments; but, Mlle.
-de Bergerac having taken me into the drawing-room and detained me there
-some minutes, he shortly rejoined us.
-
-"Great heaven, mademoiselle, this must end!" he cried, as he came into
-the room. "I can stand it no longer."
-
-"Nor can I," said my aunt. "But I have given my word."
-
-"Take back your word, then! Write him a letter--go to him--send me to
-him--anything! I can't stay here on the footing of a thief and impostor.
-I'll do anything," he continued, as she was silent. "I'll go to him in
-person; I'll go to your brother; I'll go to your sister even. I'll
-proclaim it to the world. Or, if you don't like that. I'll keep it a
-mortal secret. I'll leave the château with you without an hour's delay.
-I'll defy pursuit and discovery. We'll go to America,--anywhere you
-wish, if it's only action. Only spare me the agony of seeing you drift
-along into that man's arms."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac made no reply for some moments. At last, "I will never
-marry M. de Treuil," she said.
-
-To this declaration Coquelin made no response; but after a pause, "Well,
-well, well?" he cried.
-
-"Ah, you're pitiless!" said the young girl.
-
-"No, mademoiselle, from the bottom of my heart I pity you."
-
-"Well, then, think of all you ask! Think of the inexpiable criminality
-of my love. Think of me standing here,--here before my mother's
-portrait,--murmuring out my shame, scorched by my sister's scorn,
-buffeted by my brother's curses! Gracious heaven, Coquelin, suppose
-after all I were a bad, hard girl!"
-
-"I'll suppose nothing; this is no time for hair-splitting." And then,
-after a pause, as if with a violent effort, in a voice hoarse and yet
-soft: "Gabrielle, passion is blind. Reason alone is worth a straw. I'll
-not counsel you in passion, let us wait till reason comes to us." He put
-out his hand; she gave him her own; he pressed it to his lips and
-departed.
-
-On the following day, as I still professed myself too weak to resume my
-books, Coquelin left the château alone, after breakfast, for a long
-walk. He was going, I suppose, into the woods and meadows in quest of
-Reason. She was hard to find, apparently, for he failed to return to
-dinner. He reappeared, however, at supper, but now my father was absent.
-My mother, as she left the table, expressed the wish that Mlle. de
-Bergerac should attend her to her own room. Coquelin, meanwhile, went
-with me into the great saloon, and for half an hour talked to me gravely
-and kindly about my studies, and questioned me on what we had learned
-before my illness. At the end of this time Mlle. de Bergerac returned.
-
-"I got this letter to-day from M. de Treuil," she said, and offered him
-a missive which had apparently been handed to her since dinner.
-
-"I don't care to read it," he said.
-
-She tore it across and held the pieces to the flame of the candle. "He
-is to be here to-morrow," she added finally.
-
-"Well?" asked Coquelin gravely.
-
-"You know my answer."
-
-"Your answer to him, perfectly. But what is your answer to me?"
-
-She looked at him in silence. They stood for a minute, their eyes locked
-together. And then, in the same posture,--her arms loose at her sides,
-her head slightly thrown back,--"To you," she said, "my answer
-is--farewell."
-
-The word was little more than whispered; but, though he heard it, he
-neither started nor spoke. He stood unmoved, all his soul trembling
-under his brows and filling the space between his mistress and himself
-with a sort of sacred stillness. Then, gradually, his head sank on his
-breast, and his eyes dropped on the ground.
-
-"It's reason," the young girl began. "Reason has come to me. She tells
-me that if I marry in my brother's despite, and in opposition to all the
-traditions that have been kept sacred in my family, I shall neither find
-happiness nor give it. I must choose the simplest course. The other is a
-gulf; I can't leap it. It's harder than you think. Something in the air
-forbids it,--something in the very look of these old walls, within which
-I was born and I've lived. I shall never marry; I shall go into
-religion. I tried to fling away my name; it was sowing dragons' teeth. I
-don't ask you to forgive me. It's small enough comfort that you should
-have the right to think of me as a poor, weak heart. Keep repeating
-that: it will console you. I shall not have the compensation of doubting
-the perfection of what I love."
-
-Coquelin turned away in silence. Mlle. de Bergerac sprang after him.
-"In Heaven's name," she cried, "say something! Rave, storm, swear, but
-don't let me think I've broken your heart."
-
-"My heart's sound," said Coquelin, almost with a smile. "I regret
-nothing that has happened. O, how I love you!"
-
-The young girl buried her face in her hands.
-
-"This end," he went on, "is doubtless the only possible one. It's
-thinking very lightly of life to expect any other. After all, what call
-had I to interrupt your life,--to burden you with a trouble, a choice, a
-decision? As much as anything that I have ever known in you I admire
-your beautiful delicacy of conscience."
-
-"Ah," said the young girl, with a moan, "don't kill me with fine names!"
-
-And then came the farewell. "I feel," said poor Coquelin, "that
-I can't see you again. We must not meet. I will leave Bergerac
-immediately,--to-night,--under pretext of having been summoned home by
-my mother's illness. In a few days I will write to your brother that
-circumstances forbid me to return."
-
-My own part in this painful interview I shall not describe at length.
-When it began to dawn upon my mind that my friend was actually going to
-disappear, I was seized with a convulsion of rage and grief. "Ah," cried
-Mlle. de Bergerac bitterly, "that was all that was wanting!" What means
-were taken to restore me to composure, what promises were made me, what
-pious deception was practised, I forget; but, when at last I came to my
-senses, Coquelin had made his exit.
-
-My aunt took me by the hand and prepared to-lead me up to bed, fearing
-naturally that my ruffled aspect and swollen visage would arouse
-suspicion. At this moment I heard the clatter of hoofs in the court,
-mingled with the sound of voices. From the window, I saw M. de Treuil
-and my father alighting from horseback. Mlle. de Bergerac, apparently,
-made the same observation; she dropped my hand and sank down in a chair.
-She was not left long in suspense. Perceiving a light in the saloon, the
-two gentlemen immediately made their way to this apartment. They came in
-together, arm in arm, the Vicomte dressed in mourning. Just within the
-threshold they stopped; my father disengaged his arm, took his companion
-by the hand and led him to Mlle. de Bergerac. She rose to her feet as
-you may imagine a sitting statue to rise. The Vicomte bent his knee.
-
-"At last, mademoiselle," said he,--"sooner than I had hoped,--my long
-probation is finished."
-
-The young girl spoke, but no one would have recognized her voice. "I
-fear, M. le Vicomte," she said, "that it has only begun."
-
-The Vicomte broke into a harsh, nervous laugh.
-
-"Fol de rol, mademoiselle," cried my father, "your pleasantry is in very
-bad taste."
-
-But the Vicomte had recovered himself. "Mademoiselle is quite right," he
-declared; "she means that I must now begin to deserve my happiness."
-This little speech showed a very brave fancy. It was in flagrant discord
-with the expression of the poor girl's figure, as she stood twisting her
-hands together and rolling her eyes,--an image of sombre desperation.
-
-My father felt there was a storm in the air. "M. le Vicomte is in
-mourning for M. de Sorbières," he said. "M. le Vicomte is his sole
-legatee. He comes to exact the fulfilment of your promise."
-
-"I made no promise," said Mlle. de Bergerac.
-
-"Excuse me, mademoiselle; you gave your word that you'd wait for me."
-
-"Gracious heaven!" cried the young girl; "haven't I waited for you!"
-
-"_Ma toute belle_" said the Baron, trying to keep his angry voice within
-the compass of an undertone, and reducing it in the effort to a very
-ugly whisper, "if I had supposed you were going to make us a scene, _nom
-de Dieu!_ I would have taken my precautions beforehand! You know what
-you're to expect. Vicomte, keep her to her word. I'll give you half an
-hour. Come, Chevalier." And he took me by the hand.
-
-We had crossed the threshold and reached the hall, when I heard the
-Vicomte give a long moan, half plaintive, half indignant. My father
-turned, and answered with a fierce, inarticulate cry, which I can best
-describe as a roar. He straightway retraced his steps, I, of course,
-following. Exactly what, in the brief interval, had passed between our
-companions I am unable to say; but it was plain that Mlle. de Bergerac,
-by some cruelly unerring word or act, had discharged the bolt of her
-refusal. Her gallant lover had sunk into a chair, burying his face in
-his hands, and stamping his feet on the floor in a frenzy of
-disappointment. She stood regarding him in a sort of helpless, distant
-pity. My father had been going to break out into a storm of
-imprecations; but he suppressed them, and folded his arms.
-
-"And now, mademoiselle," he said, "will you be so good as to inform me
-of your intentions?"
-
-Beneath my father's gaze the softness passed out of my aunt's face and
-gave place to an angry defiance, which he must have recognized as
-cousin-german, at least, to the passion in his own breast. "My
-intentions had been," she said, "to let M. le Vicomte know that I
-couldn't marry him, with as little offence as possible. But you seem
-determined, my brother, to thrust in a world of offence somewhere."
-
-You must not blame Mlle. de Bergerac for the sting of her retort. She
-foresaw a hard fight; she had only sprung to her arms.
-
-My father looked at the wretched Vicomte, as he sat sobbing and stamping
-like a child His bosom was wrung with pity for his friend "Look at that
-dear Gaston, that charming man, and blush for your audacity."
-
-"I know a great deal more about my audacity than you, brother. I might
-tell you things that would surprise you."
-
-"Gabrielle, you are mad!" the Baron broke out.
-
-"Perhaps I am," said the young girl. And then, turning to M. de Treuil,
-in a tone of exquisite reproach, "M. le Vicomte, you suffer less well
-than I had hoped."
-
-My father could endure no more. He seized his sister by her two wrists,
-so that beneath the pressure her eyes filled with tears. "Heartless
-fool!" he cried, "do you know what I can do to you?"
-
-"I can imagine, from this specimen," said the poor creature.
-
-The Baron was beside himself with passion. "Down, down on your knees,"
-he went on, "and beg our pardon all round for your senseless, shameless
-perversity!" As he spoke, he increased the pressure of his grasp to that
-degree that, after a vain struggle to free herself, she uttered a scream
-of pain. The Vicomte sprang to his feet. "In heaven's name, Gabrielle,"
-he cried,--and it was the only real _naïveté_ that he had ever
-uttered,--"isn't it all a horrible jest?"
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac shook her head. "It seems hard. Vicomte," she said,
-"that I should be answerable for your happiness."
-
-"You hold it there in your hand. Think of what I suffer. To have lived
-for weeks in the hope of this hour, and to find it what you would fain
-make it! To have dreamed of rapturous bliss, and to wake to find it
-hideous misery! Think of it once again!"
-
-"She shall have a chance to think of it," the Baron declared; "she shall
-think of it quite at her ease. Go to your room, mademoiselle, and remain
-there till further notice."
-
-Gabrielle prepared to go, but, as she moved away, "I used to fear you,
-brother," she said with homely scorn, "but I don't fear you now. Judge
-whether it's because I love you more!"
-
-"Gabrielle," the Vicomte cried out, "I haven't given you up."
-
-"Your feelings are your own, M. le Vicomte. I would have given more than
-I can say rather than have caused you to suffer. Your asking my hand has
-been the great honor of my life; my withholding it has been the great
-trial." And she walked out of the room with the step of unacted tragedy.
-My father, with an oath, despatched me to bed in her train. Heavy-headed
-with the recent spectacle of so much half-apprehended emotion, I
-speedily fell asleep.
-
-I was aroused by the sound of voices, and the grasp of a heavy hand on
-my shoulder. My father stood before me, holding a candle, with M. de
-Treuil beside him. "Chevalier," he said, "open your eyes like a man, and
-come to your senses."
-
-Thus exhorted, I sat up and stared. The Baron sat down on the edge of
-the bed. "This evening," he began, "before the Vicomte and I came in,
-were you alone with your aunt?"--My dear friend, you see the scene from
-here. I answered with the cruel directness of my years. Even if I had
-had the wit to dissemble, I should have lacked the courage. Of course I
-had no story to tell. I had drawn no inferences; I didn't say that my
-tutor was my aunt's lover. I simply said that he had been with us after
-supper, and that he wanted my aunt to go away with him. Such was my part
-in the play. I see the whole picture again,--my father brandishing the
-candlestick, and devouring my words with his great flaming eyes; and the
-Vicomte behind, portentously silent, with his black clothes and his pale
-face.
-
-They had not been three minutes out of the room when the door leading to
-my aunt's chamber opened and Mlle. de Bergerac appeared. She had heard
-sounds in my apartment, and suspected the visit of the gentlemen and its
-motive. She immediately won from me the recital of what I had been
-forced to avow. "Poor Chevalier," she cried, for all commentary. And
-then, after a pause, "What made them suspect that M. Coquelin had been
-with us?"
-
-"They saw him, or some one, leave the château as they came in."
-
-"And where have they gone now?"
-
-"To supper. My father said to M. de Treuil that first of all they must
-sup."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac stood a moment in meditation. Then suddenly, "Get up,
-Chevalier," she said, "I want you to go with me."
-
-"Where are you going?"
-
-"To M. Coquelin's."
-
-I needed no second admonition. I hustled on my clothes; Mlle. de
-Bergerac left the room and immediately returned, clad in a light mantle.
-We made our way undiscovered to one of the private entrances of the
-château, hurried across the park and found a light in the window of
-Coquelin's lodge. It was about half past nine. Mlle. de Bergerac gave a
-loud knock at the door, and we entered her lover's apartment.
-
-Coquelin was seated at his table writing. He sprang to his feet with a
-cry of amazement. Mlle. de Bergerac stood panting, with one hand pressed
-to her heart, while rapidly moving the other as if to enjoin calmness.
-
-"They are come back," she began,--"M. de Treuil and my brother!"
-
-"I thought he was to come to-morrow. Was it a deception?"
-
-"Ah, no! not from him,--an accident Pierre Coquelin, I've had such a
-scene! But it's not your fault."
-
-"What made the scene?"
-
-"My refusal, of course."
-
-"You turned off the Vicomte?"
-
-"Holy Virgin! You ask me?"
-
-"Unhappy girl!" cried Coquelin.
-
-"No, I was a happy girl to have had a chance to act as my heart bade me.
-I had faltered enough. But it was hard!"
-
-"It's all hard."
-
-"The hardest is to come," said my aunt She put out her hand; he sprang
-to her and seized it, and she pressed his own with vehemence. "They have
-discovered our secret,--don't ask how. It was Heaven's will. From this
-moment, of course--"
-
-"From this moment, of course," cried Coquelin, "I stay where I am!"
-
-With an impetuous movement she raised his hand to her lips and kissed
-it. "You stay where you are. We have nothing to conceal, but we have
-nothing to avow. We have no confessions to make. Before God we have done
-our duty. You may expect them, I fancy, to-night; perhaps, too, they
-will honor me with a visit. They are supping between two battles. They
-will attack us with fury, I know; but let them dash themselves against
-our silence as against a wall of stone. I have taken my stand. My love,
-my errors, my longings, are my own affair. My reputation is a sealed
-book. Woe to him who would force it open!"
-
-The poor girl had said once, you know, that she was afraid of her
-nature. Assuredly it had now sprung erect in its strength; it came
-hurrying into action on the winds of her indignation. "Remember,
-Coquelin," she went on, "you are still and always my friend. You are the
-guardian of my weakness, the support of my strength."
-
-"Say it all, Gabrielle!" he cried. "I'm for ever and ever your lover!"
-
-Suddenly, above the music of his voice, there came a great rattling
-knock at the door. Coquelin sprang forward; it opened in his face and
-disclosed my father and M. de Treuil. I have no words in my dictionary,
-no images in my rhetoric, to represent the sudden horror that leaped
-into my father's face as his eye fell upon his sister. He staggered back
-a step and then stood glaring, until his feelings found utterance in a
-single word: "_Coureuse!_" I have never been able to look upon the word
-as trivial since that moment.
-
-The Vicomte came striding past him into the room, like a bolt of
-lightning from a rumbling cloud, quivering with baffled desire, and
-looking taller by the head for his passion. "And it was for this,
-mademoiselle," he cried, "and for _that!_" and he flung out a scornful
-hand toward Coquelin. "For a beggarly, boorish, ignorant pedagogue!"
-
-Coquelin folded his arms. "Address me directly, M. le Vicomte," he said;
-"don't fling mud at me over mademoiselle's head."
-
-"You? Who are you?" hissed the nobleman. "A man doesn't address you;
-he sends his lackeys to flog you!"
-
-"Well, M. le Vicomte, you're complete," said Coquelin, eyeing him from
-head to foot.
-
-"Complete?" and M. de Treuil broke into an almost hysterical laugh. "I
-only lack having married your mistress!"
-
-"Ah!" cried Mlle. de Bergerac.
-
-"O, you poor, insensate fool!" said Coquelin.
-
-"Heaven help me," the young man went on, "I'm ready to marry her still."
-
-While these words were rapidly exchanged, my father stood choking with
-the confusion of amusement and rage. He was stupefied at his sister's
-audacity,--at the dauntless spirit which ventured to flaunt its shameful
-passion in the very face of honor and authority. Yet that simple
-interjection which I have quoted from my aunt's lips stirred a secret
-tremor in his heart; it was like the striking of some magic silver hell,
-portending monstrous things. His passion faltered, and, as his eyes
-glanced upon my innocent head (which, it must be confessed, was sadly
-out of place in that pernicious scene), alighted on this smaller wrong.
-"The next time you go on your adventures, mademoiselle," he cried, "I'd
-thank you not to pollute my son by dragging him at your skirts."
-
-"I'm not sorry to have my family present," said the young girl, who had
-had time to collect her thoughts. "I should be glad even if my sister
-were here. I wish simply to bid you farewell."
-
-Coquelin, at these words, made a step towards her. She passed her hand
-through his arm. "Things have taken place--and chiefly within the last
-moment--which change the face of the future. You've done the business,
-brother," and she fixed her glittering eyes on the Baron; "you've driven
-me back on myself. I spared you, but you never spared me. I cared for my
-name; you loaded it with dishonor. I chose between happiness and
-duty,--duty as you would have laid it down: I preferred duty. But now
-that happiness has become one with simple safety from violence and
-insult, I go back to happiness. I give you back your name; though I have
-kept it more jealously than you. I have another ready for me. O
-Messieurs!" she cried, with a burst of rapturous exaltation, "for what
-you have done to me I thank you."
-
-My father began to groan and tremble. He had grasped my hand in his own,
-which was clammy with perspiration. "For the love of God, Gabrielle," he
-implored, "or the fear of the Devil, speak so that a sickened, maddened
-Christian can understand you! For what purpose did you come here
-to-night?"
-
-"_Mon Dieu_, it's a long story. You made short work with it. I might in
-justice do as much. I came here, brother, to guard my reputation, and
-not to lose it."
-
-All this while my father had neither looked at Coquelin nor spoken to
-him, either because he thought him not worth his words, or because he
-had kept some transcendent insult in reserve. Here my governor broke in.
-"It seems to me time, M. le Baron, that I should inquire the purpose of
-your own visit."
-
-My father stared a moment. "I came, M. Coquelin, to take you by the
-shoulders and eject you through that door, with the further impulsion,
-if necessary, of a vigorous kick."
-
-"Good! And M. le Vicomte?"
-
-"M. le Vicomte came to see it done."
-
-"Perfect! A little more and you had come too late. I was on the point of
-leaving Bergerac. I can put the story into three words. I have been so
-happy as to secure the affections of Mlle. de Bergerac. She asked
-herself, devoutly, what course of action was possible under the
-circumstances. She decided that the only course was that we should
-immediately separate. I had no hesitation in bringing my residence with
-M. le Chevalier to a sudden close. I was to have quitted the château
-early to-morrow morning, leaving mademoiselle at absolute liberty. With
-her refusal of M. de Treuil I have nothing to do. Her action in this
-matter seems to have been strangely precipitated, and my own departure
-anticipated in consequence. It was at her adjuration that I was
-preparing to depart. She came here this evening to command me to stay.
-In our relations there was nothing that the world had a right to lay a
-finger upon. From the moment that they were suspected it was of the
-first importance to the security and sanctity of Mlle. de Bergerac's
-position that there should be no appearance on my part of elusion or
-flight. The relations I speak of had ceased to exist; there was,
-therefore, every reason why for the present I should retain my place.
-Mlle. de Bergerac had been here some three minutes, and had just made
-known her wishes, when you arrived with the honorable intentions which
-you avow, and under that illusion the perfect stupidity of which is its
-least reproach. In my own turn. Messieurs, I thank you!"
-
-"Gabrielle," said my father, as Coquelin ceased speaking, "the long and
-short of it appears to be that after all you needn't marry this man. Am
-I to understand that you intend to?"
-
-"Brother, I mean to marry M. Coquelin."
-
-My father stood looking from the young girl to her lover. The Vicomte
-walked to the window, as if he were in want of air. The night was cool
-and the window closed. He tried the sash, but for some reason it
-resisted. Whereupon he raised his sword-hilt and with a violent blow
-shivered a pane into fragments. The Baron went on: "On what do you
-propose to live?"
-
-"It's for me to propose," said Coquelin. "My wife shall not suffer."
-
-"Whither do you mean to go?"
-
-"Since you're so good as to ask,--to Paris."
-
-My father had got back his fire. "Well, then," he cried, "my bitterest
-unforgiveness go with you, and turn your unholy pride to abject woe! My
-sister may marry a base-born vagrant if she wants, but I shall not give
-her away. I hope you'll enjoy the mud in which you've planted yourself.
-I hope your marriage will be blessed in the good old fashion, and that
-you'll regard philosophically the sight of a half-dozen starving
-children. I hope you'll enjoy the company of chandlers and cobblers and
-scribblers!" The Baron could go no further. "Ah, my sister!" he half
-exclaimed. His voice broke; he gave a great convulsive sob, and fell
-into a chair.
-
-"Coquelin," said my aunt, "take me back to the château."
-
-As she walked to the door, her hand in the young man's arm, the Vicomte
-turned short about from the window, and stood with his drawn sword,
-grimacing horribly.
-
-"Not if I can help it!" he cried through his teeth, and with a sweep of
-his weapon he made a savage thrust at the young girl's breast Coquelin,
-with equal speed, sprang before her, threw out his arm, and took the
-blow just below the elbow.
-
-"Thank you, M. le Vicomte," he said, "for the chance of calling you a
-coward! There was something I wanted."
-
-Mlle. de Bergerac spent the night at the château, but by early dawn she
-had disappeared. Whither Coquelin betook himself with his gratitude and
-his wound, I know not. He lay, I suppose, at some neighboring farmer's.
-My father and the Vicomte kept for an hour a silent, sullen vigil in my
-preceptor's vacant apartment,--for an hour and perhaps longer, for at
-the end of this time I fell asleep, and when I came to my senses, the
-next morning, I was in my own bed.
-
-
-M. de Bergerac had finished his talk.
-
-"But the marriage," I asked, after a pause,--"was it happy?"
-
-"Reasonably so, I fancy. There is no doubt that Coquelin was an
-excellent fellow. They had three children, and lost them all. They
-managed to live. He painted portraits and did literary work.
-
-"And his wife?"
-
-"Her history, I take it, is that of all good wives: she loved her
-husband. When the Revolution came, they went into politics; but here, in
-spite of his base birth, Coquelin acted with that superior temperance
-which I always associate with his memory. He was no _sans-culotte._ They
-both went to the scaffold among the Girondists."
-
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-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gabrielle de Bergerac, by Henry James</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
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-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Gabrielle de Bergerac</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Henry James</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 31, 2021 [eBook #65481]</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
-
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-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously made available by Hathi Trust Digital Library.)</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/gabrielle_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-
-<h2>GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC</h2>
-
-
-
-<h3>BY HENRY JAMES</h3>
-
-
-
-
-<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
-
-<h4>BONI AND LIVERIGHT</h4>
-
-<h5>1918</h5>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<h4>CONTENTS</h4>
-<p class="nind"><a href="#PART_I">PART I</a><br />
-<a href="#PART_II">PART II</a><br />
-<a href="#PART_III">PART III</a></p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<h4>GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC</h4>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h4>
-
-<p>
-My good old friend, in his white flannel dressing-gown, with his wig
-"removed," as they say of the dinner-service, by a crimson nightcap, sat
-for some moments gazing into the fire. At last he looked up. I knew what
-was coming. "Apropos, that little debt of mine&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Not that the debt was really very little. But M. de Bergerac was a man
-of honor, and I knew I should receive my dues. He told me frankly that
-he saw no way, either in the present or the future, to reimburse me in
-cash. His only treasures were his paintings; would I choose one of them?
-Now I had not spent an hour in M. de Bergerac's little parlor twice a
-week for three winters, without learning that the Baron's paintings
-were, with a single exception, of very indifferent merit. On the other
-hand, I had taken a great fancy to the picture thus excepted. Yet, as I
-knew it was a family portrait, I hesitated to claim it. I refused to
-make a choice. M. de Bergerac, however, insisted, and I finally laid my
-finger on the charming image of my friend's aunt. I of course insisted,
-on my side, that M. de Bergerac should retain it during the remainder of
-his life, and so it was only after his decease that I came into
-possession of it. It hangs above my table as I write, and I have only to
-glance up at the face of my heroine to feel how vain it is to attempt to
-describe it. The portrait represents, in dimensions several degrees
-below those of nature, the head and shoulders of a young girl of
-two-and-twenty. The execution of the work is not especially strong, but
-it is thoroughly respectable and one may easily see that the painter
-deeply appreciated the character of the face. The countenance is
-interesting rather than beautiful,&mdash;the forehead broad and open,
-the eyes slightly prominent, all the features full and firm and yet
-replete with gentleness. The head is slightly thrown back, as if in
-movement, and the lips are parted in a half-smile. And yet, in spite of
-this tender smile, I always fancy that the eyes are sad. The hair,
-dressed without powder, is rolled back over a high cushion (as I
-suppose), and adorned just above the left ear with a single white rose;
-while, on the other side, a heavy tress from behind hangs upon the neck
-with a sort of pastoral freedom. The neck is long and full, and the
-shoulders rather broad. The whole face has a look of mingled softness
-and decision, and seems to reveal a nature inclined to revery,
-affection, and repose, but capable of action and even of heroism. Mlle.
-de Bergerac died under the axe of the Terrorists. Now that I had
-acquired a certain property in this sole memento of her life, I felt a
-natural curiosity as to her character and history. Had M. de Bergerac
-known his aunt? Did he remember her? Would it be a tax on his
-good-nature to suggest that he should favor me with a few reminiscences?
-The old man fixed his eyes on the fire, and laid his hand on mine, as if
-his memory were fain to draw from both sources&mdash;from the ruddy glow
-and from my fresh young blood&mdash;a certain vital, quickening warmth.
-A mild, rich smile ran to his lips, and he pressed my hand.
-Somehow,&mdash;I hardly know why,&mdash;I felt touched almost to tears.
-Mlle. de Bergerac had been a familiar figure in her nephew's boyhood,
-and an important event in her life had formed a sort of episode in his
-younger days. It was a simple enough story; but such as it was, then and
-there, settling back into his chair, with the fingers of the clock
-wandering on to the small hours of the night, he told it with a tender,
-lingering garrulity. Such as it is, I repeat it. I shall give, as far as
-possible, my friend's words, or the English of them; but the reader will
-have to do without his inimitable accents. For them there is no English.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father's household at Bergerac (said the Baron) consisted, exclusive
-of the servants, of five persons,&mdash;himself, my mother, my aunt
-(Mlle. de Bergerac), M. Coquelin (my preceptor), and M. Coquelin's
-pupil, the heir of the house. Perhaps, indeed, I should have numbered M.
-Coquelin among the servants. It is certain that my mother did. Poor
-little woman! she was a great stickler for the rights of birth. Her own
-birth was all she had, for she was without health, beauty, or fortune.
-My father, on his side, had very little of the last; his property of
-Bergerac yielded only enough to keep us without discredit. We gave no
-entertainments, and passed the whole year in the country; and as my
-mother was resolved that her weak health should do her a kindness as
-well as an injury, it was put forward as an apology for everything. We
-led at best a simple, somnolent sort of life. There was a terrible
-amount of leisure for rural gentlefolks in those good old days. We slept
-a great deal; we slept, you will say, on a volcano. It was a very
-different world from this patent new world of yours, and I may say that
-I was born on a different planet. Yes, in 1789, there came a great
-convulsion; the earth cracked and opened and broke, and this poor old
-<i>pays de France</i> went whirling through space. When I look back at
-my childhood, I look over a gulf. Three years ago, I spent a week at a
-country house in the neighborhood of Bergerac, and my hostess drove me
-over to the site of the château. The house has disappeared, and there's
-a homœopathic&mdash;hydropathic&mdash;what do you call
-it?&mdash;establishment erected in its place. But the little town is
-there, and the bridge on the river, and the church where I was
-christened, and the double row of lime-trees on the market-place, and
-the fountain in the middle. There's only one striking difference: the
-sky is changed. I was born under the old sky. It was black enough, of
-course, if we had only had eyes to see it; but to me, I confess, it
-looked divinely blue. And in fact it was very bright,&mdash;the little
-patch under which I cast my juvenile shadow. An odd enough little shadow
-you would have thought it. I was promiscuously cuddled and fondled. I
-was M. le Chevalier, and prospective master of Bergerac; and when I
-walked to church on Sunday, I had a dozen yards of lace on my coat and a
-little sword at my side. My poor mother did her best to make me good for
-nothing. She had her maid to curl my hair with the tongs, and she used
-with her own fingers to stick little black patches on my face. And yet I
-was a good deal neglected too, and I would go for days with black
-patches of another sort. I'm afraid I should have got very little
-education if a kind Providence hadn't given me poor M. Coquelin. A kind
-Providence, that is, and my father; for with my mother my tutor was no
-favorite. She thought him&mdash;and, indeed, she called him&mdash;a
-bumpkin, a clown. There was a very pretty abbé among her friends, M.
-Tiblaud by name, whom she wished to install at the château as my
-intellectual, and her spiritual, adviser; but my father, who, without
-being anything of an <i>esprit fort</i>, had an incurable aversion to a
-priest out of church, very soon routed this pious scheme. My poor father
-was an odd figure of a man. He belonged to a type as completely obsolete
-as the biggest of those big-boned, pre-historic monsters discovered by
-M. Cuvier. He was not overburdened with opinions or principles. The only
-truth that was absolute to his perception was that the house of Bergerac
-was <i>de bonne noblesse.</i> His tastes were not delicate. He was fond
-of the open air, of long rides, of the smell of the game-stocked woods
-in autumn, of playing at bowls, of a drinking-cup, of a dirty pack of
-cards, and a free-spoken tavern Hebe. I have nothing of him but his
-name. I strike you as an old fossil, a relic, a mummy. Good heavens! you
-should have seen him,&mdash;his good, his bad manners, his arrogance,
-his <i>bonhomie</i>, his stupidity and pluck.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My early years had promised ill for my health; I was listless and
-languid, and my father had been content to leave me to the women, who,
-on the whole, as I have said, left me a good deal to myself. But one
-morning he seemed suddenly to remember that he had a little son and heir
-running wild. It was, I remember, in my ninth year, a morning early in
-June, after breakfast, at eleven o'clock. He took me by the hand and led
-me out on the terrace, and sat down and made me stand between his knees.
-I was engaged upon a great piece of bread and butter, which I had
-brought away from the table. He put his hand into my hair, and, for the
-first time that I could remember, looked me straight in the face. I had
-seen him take the forelock of a young colt in the same way, when he
-wished to look at its teeth. What did he want? Was he going to send me
-for sale? His eyes seemed prodigiously black and his eyebrows terribly
-thick. They were very much the eyebrows of that portrait. My father
-passed his other hand over the muscles of my arms and the sinews of my
-poor little legs.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Chevalier," said he, "you're dreadfully puny. What's one to do with
-you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I dropped my eyes and said nothing. Heaven knows I felt puny.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's time you knew how to read and write. What are you blushing at?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I <i>do</i> know how to read," said I.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father stared. "Pray, who taught you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I learned in a book."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What book?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I looked up at my father before I answered. His eyes were bright, and
-there was a little flush in his face,&mdash;I hardly knew whether of
-pleasure or anger. I disengaged myself and went into the drawing-room,
-where I took from a cupboard in the wall an odd volume of Scarron's
-<i>Roman comique.</i> As I had to go through the house, I was absent
-some minutes. When I came back I found a stranger on the terrace. A
-young man in poor clothes, with a walking-stick, had come up from the
-avenue, and stood before my father, with his hat in his hand. At the
-farther end of the terrace was my aunt. She was sitting on the parapet,
-playing with a great black crow, which we kept in a cage in the
-dining-room window. I betook myself to my father's side with my book,
-and stood staring at our visitor. He was a dark-eyed, sunburnt young
-man, of about twenty-eight, of middle height, broad in the shoulders and
-short in the neck, with a slight lameness in one of his legs. He looked
-travel-stained and weary and pale. I remember there was something
-prepossessing in his being pale. I didn't know that the paleness came
-simply from his being horribly hungry.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In view of these facts," he said, as I came up, "I have ventured to
-presume upon the good-will of M. le Baron."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father sat back in his chair, with his legs apart and a hand on each
-knee and his waistcoat unbuttoned, as was usual after a meal. "Upon my
-word," he said, "I don't know what I can do for you. There's no place
-for you in my own household."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The young man was silent a moment. "Has M. le Baron any children?" he
-asked, after a pause.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I have my son whom you see here."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"May I inquire if M. le Chevalier is supplied with a preceptor?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father glanced down at me. "Indeed, he seems to be," he cried. "What
-have you got there?" And he took my book. "The little rascal has M.
-Scarron for a teacher. This is his preceptor!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I blushed very hard, and the young man smiled. "Is that your only
-teacher?" he asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My aunt taught me to read," I said, looking round at her.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And did your aunt recommend this book?" asked my father.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My aunt gave me M. Plutarque," I said.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father burst out laughing, and the young man put his hat up to his
-mouth. But I could see that above it his eyes had a very good-natured
-look. My aunt, seeing that her name had been mentioned, walked slowly
-over to where we stood, still holding her crow on her hand. You have her
-there before you; judge how she looked. I remember that she frequently
-dressed in blue, my poor aunt, and I know that she must have dressed
-simply. Fancy her in a light stuff gown, covered with big blue flowers,
-with a blue ribbon in her dark hair, and the points of her high-heeled
-blue slippers peeping out under her stiff white petticoat. Imagine her
-strolling along the terrace of the château with a villainous black crow
-perched on her wrist. You'll admit it's a picture.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Is all this true, sister?" said my father. "Is the Chevalier such a
-scholar?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"He's a clever boy," said my aunt, putting her hand on my head.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It seems to me that at a pinch he could do without a preceptor," said
-my father. "He has such a learned aunt."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I've taught him all I know. He had begun to ask me questions that I was
-quite unable to answer."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I should think he might," cried my father, with a broad laugh, "when
-once he had got into M. Scarron!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Questions out of Plutarch," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "which you must
-know Latin to answer."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Would you like to know Latin, M. le Chevalier?" said the young man,
-looking at me with a smile.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Do you know Latin,&mdash;you?" I asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Perfectly," said the young man, with the same smile.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Do you want to learn Latin, Chevalier?" said my aunt.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Every gentleman learns Latin," said the young man.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I looked at the poor fellow, his dusty shoes and his rusty clothes. "But
-you're not a gentleman," said I.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He blushed up to his eyes. "Ah, I only teach it," he said.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-In this way it was that Pierre Coquelin came to be my governor. My
-father, who had a mortal dislike to all kinds of cogitation and inquiry,
-engaged him on the simple testimony of his face and of his own account
-of his talents. His history, as he told it, was in three words as
-follows: He was of our province, and neither more nor less than the son
-of a village tailor. He is my hero: <i>tirez-vous de là.</i> Showing a
-lively taste for books, instead of being promoted to the paternal bench,
-he had been put to study with the Jesuits. After a residence of some
-three years with these gentlemen, he had incurred their displeasure by a
-foolish breach of discipline, and had been turned out into the world.
-Here he had endeavored to make capital out of his excellent education,
-and had gone up to Paris with the hope of earning his bread as a
-scribbler. But in Paris he scribbled himself hungry and nothing more,
-and was in fact in a fair way to die of starvation. At last he
-encountered an agent of the Marquis de Rochambeau, who was collecting
-young men for the little army which the latter was prepared to conduct
-to the aid of the American insurgents. He had engaged himself among
-Rochambeau's troops, taken part in several battles, and finally received
-a wound in his leg of which the effect was still perceptible. At the end
-of three years he had returned to France, and repaired on foot, with
-what speed he might, to his native town; but only to find that in his
-absence his father had died, after a tedious illness, in which he had
-vainly lavished his small earnings upon the physicians, and that his
-mother had married again, very little to his taste. Poor Coquelin was
-friendless, penniless, and homeless. But once back on his native soil,
-he found himself possessed again by his old passion for letters, and,
-like: all starving members of his craft, he had turned his face to
-Paris. He longed to make up for his three years in the wilderness. He
-trudged along, lonely, hungry, and weary, till he came to the gates of
-Bergerac. Here, sitting down to rest on a stone, he saw us come out on
-the terrace to digest our breakfast in the sun. Poor Coquelin! he had
-the stomach of a gentleman. He was filled with an irresistible longing
-to rest awhile from his struggle with destiny, and it seemed to him that
-for a mess of smoking pottage he would gladly exchange his vague and
-dubious future. In obedience to this simple impulse,&mdash;an impulse
-touching in its humility, when you knew the man,&mdash;he made his way up
-the avenue. We looked affable enough,&mdash;an honest country gentleman, a
-young girl playing with a crow, and a little boy eating bread and butter;
-and it turned out, we were as kindly as we looked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-For me, I soon grew extremely fond of him, and I was glad to think in
-later days that he had found me a thoroughly docile child. In those
-days, you know, thanks to Jean Jacques Rousseau, there was a vast stir
-in men's notions of education, and a hundred theories afloat about the
-perfect teacher and the perfect pupil. Coquelin was a firm devotee of
-Jean Jacques, and very possibly applied some of his precepts to my own
-little person. But of his own nature Coquelin was incapable of anything
-that was not wise and gentle, and he had no need to learn humanity in
-books. He was, nevertheless, a great reader, and when he had not a
-volume in his hand he was sure to have two in his pockets. He had half a
-dozen little copies of the Greek and Latin poets, bound in yellow
-parchment, which, as he said, with a second shirt and a pair of white
-stockings, constituted his whole library. He had carried these books to
-America, and read them in the wilderness, and by the light of
-camp-fires, and in crowded, steaming barracks in winter-quarters. He had
-a passion for Virgil. M. Scarron was very soon dismissed to the
-cupboard, among the dice-boxes and the old packs of cards, and I was
-confined for the time to Virgil and Ovid and Plutarch, all of which,
-with the stimulus of Coquelin's own delight, I found very good reading.
-But better than any of the stories I read were those stories of his
-wanderings, and his odd companions and encounters, and charming tales of
-pure fantasy, which, with the best grace in the world, he would recite
-by the hour. We took long walks, and he told me the names of the flowers
-and the various styles of the stars, and I remember that I often had no
-small trouble to keep them distinct. He wrote a very bad hand, but he
-made very pretty drawings of the subjects then in vogue,&mdash;nymphs and
-heroes and shepherds and pastoral scenes. I used to fancy that his
-knowledge and skill were inexhaustible, and I pestered him so for
-entertainment that I certainly proved that there were no limits to his
-patience.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-When he first came to us he looked haggard and thin and weary; but
-before the month was out, he had acquired a comfortable rotundity of
-person, and something of the sleek and polished look which befits the
-governor of a gentleman's son. And yet he never lost a certain gravity
-and reserve of demeanor which was nearly akin to a mild melancholy. With
-me, half the time, he was of course intolerably bored, and he must have
-had hard work to keep from yawning in my face,&mdash;which, as he knew I
-knew, would have been an unwarrantable liberty. At table, with my
-parents, he seemed to be constantly observing himself and inwardly
-regulating his words and gestures. The simple truth, I take it, was that
-he had never sat at a gentleman's table, and although he must have known
-himself incapable of a real breach of civility,&mdash;essentially delicate
-as he was in his feelings,&mdash;he was too proud to run the risk of
-violating etiquette. My poor mother was a great stickler for ceremony, and
-she would have had her majordomo to lift the covers, even if she had had
-nothing to put into the dishes. I remember a cruel rebuke she bestowed
-upon Coquelin, shortly after his arrival. She could never be brought to
-forget that he had been picked up, as she said, on the roads. At dinner
-one day, in the absence of Mlle. de Bergerac, who was indisposed, he
-inadvertently occupied her seat, taking me as a <i>vis-à-vis</i> instead
-of a neighbor. Shortly afterwards, coming to offer wine to my mother, he
-received for all response a stare so blank, cold, and insolent as to
-leave no doubt of her estimate of his presumption. In my mother's simple
-philosophy, Mlle. de Bergerac's seat could be decently occupied only
-herself, and in default of her presence should remain conspicuously and
-sacredly vacant. Dinner at Bergerac was at best, indeed, a cold and
-dismal ceremony. I see it now,&mdash;the great dining-room, with its high
-windows and their faded curtains, and the tiles upon the floor, and the
-immense wainscots, and the great white marble chimney-piece, reaching to
-the ceiling,&mdash;a triumph of delicate carving,&mdash;and the panels
-above the doors, with their <i>galant</i> mythological paintings. All this
-had been the work of my grandfather, during the Regency, who had undertaken
-to renovate and beautify the château; but his funds had suddenly given
-out, and we could boast but a desultory elegance. Such talk as passed at
-table was between my mother and the Baron, and consisted for the most
-part of a series of insidious attempts on my mother's part to extort
-information which the latter had no desire, or at least no faculty, to
-impart. My father was constitutionally taciturn and apathetic, and he
-invariably made an end of my mother's interrogation by proclaiming that
-he hated gossip. He liked to take his pleasure and have done with it, or
-at best, to ruminate his substantial joys within the conservative
-recesses of his capacious breast. The Baronne's inquisitive tongue was
-like a lambent flame, flickering over the sides of a rock. She had a
-passion for the world, and seclusion had only sharpened the edge of her
-curiosity. She lived on old memories&mdash;shabby, tarnished bits of
-intellectual finery&mdash;and vagrant rumors, anecdotes, and scandals.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Once in a while, however, her curiosity held high revel; for once a week
-we had the Vicomte de Treuil to dine with us. This gentleman was,
-although several years my father's junior, his most intimate friend and
-the only constant visitor at Bergerac. He brought with him a sort of
-intoxicating perfume of the great world, which I myself was not too
-young to feel. He had a marvellous fluency of talk; he was polite and
-elegant; and he was constantly getting letters from Paris, books,
-newspapers, and prints, and copies of the new songs. When he dined at
-Bergerac, my mother used to rustle away from table, kissing her hand to
-him, and actually light-headed from her deep potations of gossip. His
-conversation was a constant popping of corks. My father and the Vicomte,
-as I have said, were firm friends,&mdash;the firmer for the great diversity
-of their characters. M. de Bergerac was dark, grave, and taciturn, with
-a deep, sonorous voice. He had in his nature a touch of melancholy, and,
-in default of piety, a broad vein of superstition. The foundations of
-his soul, moreover, I am satisfied, in spite of the somewhat ponderous
-superstructure, were laid in a soil of rich tenderness and pity. Gaston
-de Treuil was of a wholly different temper. He was short and slight,
-without any color, and with eyes as blue and lustrous as sapphires. He
-was so careless and gracious and mirthful, that to an unenlightened
-fancy he seemed the model of a joyous, reckless, gallant, impenitent
-<i>veneur.</i> But it sometimes struck me that, as he revolved an idea in
-his mind, it produced a certain flinty ring, which suggested that his
-nature was built, as it were, on rock, and that the bottom of his heart was
-hard. Young as he was, besides, he had a tired, jaded, exhausted look,
-which told of his having played high at the game of life, and, very
-possibly, lost. In fact, it was notorious that M. de Treuil had run
-through his property, and that his actual business in our neighborhood
-was to repair the breach in his fortunes by constant attendance on a
-wealthy kinsman, who occupied an adjacent château, and who was dying of
-age and his infirmities. But while I thus hint at the existence in his
-composition of these few base particles, I should be sorry to represent
-him as substantially less fair and clear and lustrous than he appeared
-to he. He possessed an irresistible charm, and that of itself is a
-virtue. I feel sure, moreover, that my father would never have
-reconciled himself to a real scantiness of masculine worth. The Vicomte
-enjoyed, I fancy, the generous energy of my father's good-fellowship,
-and the Baron's healthy senses were flattered by the exquisite perfume
-of the other's infallible <i>savoir-vivre.</i> I offer a hundred apologies,
-at any rate, to the Vicomte's luminous shade, that I should have
-ventured to cast a dingy slur upon his name. History has commemorated
-it. He perished on the scaffold, and showed that he knew how to die as
-well as to live. He was the last relic of the lily-handed youth of the
-<i>bon temps</i>; and as he looks at me out of the poignant sadness of the
-past, with a reproachful glitter in his cold blue eyes, and a scornful
-smile on his fine lips, I feel that, elegant and silent as he is, he has
-the last word in our dispute. I shall think of him henceforth as he
-appeared one night, or rather one morning, when he came home from a ball
-with my father, who had brought him to Bergerac to sleep. I had my bed
-in a closet out of my mother's room, where I lay in a most unwholesome
-fashion among her old gowns and hoops and cosmetics. My mother slept
-little; she passed the night in her dressing-gown, bolstered up in her
-bed, reading novels. The two gentlemen came in at four o'clock in the
-morning and made their way up to the Baronne's little sitting-room, next
-to her chamber. I suppose they were highly exhilarated, for they made a
-great noise of talking and laughing, and my father began to knock at the
-chamber door. He called out that he had M. de Treuil, and that they were
-cold and hungry. The Baronne said that she had a fire and they might
-come in. She was glad enough, poor lady, to get news of the ball, and to
-catch their impressions before they had been dulled by sleep. So they
-came in and sat by the fire, and M. de Treuil looked for some wine and
-some little cakes where my mother told him. I was wide awake and heard
-it all. I heard my mother protesting and crying out, and the Vicomte
-laughing, when he looked into the wrong place; and I am afraid that in
-my mother's room there were a great many wrong places. Before long, in
-my little stuffy, dark closet, I began to feel hungry too; whereupon I
-got out of bed and ventured forth into the room. I remember the whole
-picture, as one remembers isolated scenes of childhood: my mother's bed,
-with its great curtains half drawn back at the side, and her little
-eager face and dark eyes peeping out of the recess; then the two men at
-the fire,&mdash;my father with his hat on, sitting and looking drowsily
-into the flames, and the Vicomte standing before the hearth, talking,
-laughing, and gesticulating, with the candlestick in one hand and a
-glass of wine in the other,&mdash;dropping the wax on one side and the wine
-on the other. He was dressed from head to foot in white velvet and white
-silk, with embroideries of silver, and an immense <i>jabot.</i> He was very
-pale, and he looked lighter and slighter and wittier and more elegant
-than ever. He had a weak voice, and when he laughed, after one feeble
-little spasm, it went off into nothing, and you only knew he was
-laughing by his nodding his head and lifting his eyebrows and showing
-his handsome teeth. My father was in crimson velvet, with tarnished gold
-facings. My mother bade me get back into bed, but my father took me on
-his knees and held out my bare feet to the fire. In a little while, from
-the influence of the heat, he fell asleep in his chair, and I sat in my
-place and watched M. de Treuil as he stood in the firelight drinking his
-wine and telling stories to my mother, until at last I too relapsed into
-the innocence of slumber. They were very good friends, the Vicomte and
-my mother. He admired the turn of her mind. I remember his telling me
-several years later, at the time of her death, when I was old enough to
-understand him, that she was a very brave, keen little woman, and that
-in her musty solitude of Bergerac she said a great many more good things
-than the world ever heard of.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-During the winter which preceded Coquelin's arrival, M. de Treuil used
-to show himself at Bergerac in a friendly manner; but about a month
-before this event, his visits became more frequent and assumed a special
-import and motive. In a word, my father and his friend between them had
-conceived it to be a fine thing that the latter should marry Mlle. de
-Bergerac. Neither from his own nor from his friend's point of view was
-Gaston de Treuil a marrying man or a desirable <i>parti.</i> He was too
-fond of pleasure to conciliate a rich wife, and too poor to support a
-penniless one. But I fancy that my father was of the opinion that if the
-Vicomte came into his kinsman's property, the best way to insure the
-preservation of it, and to attach him to his duties and
-responsibilities, would be to unite him to an amiable girl, who might
-remind him of the beauty of a domestic life and lend him courage to mend
-his ways. As far as the Vicomte was concerned, this was assuredly a
-benevolent scheme, but it seems to me that it made small account of the
-young girl's own happiness. M. de Treuil was supposed, in the matter of
-women, to have known everything that can be known, and to be as
-<i>blasé</i> with regard to their charms as he was proof against their
-influence. And, in fact, his manner of dealing with women, and of
-discussing them, indicated a profound disenchantment,&mdash;no bravado
-of contempt, no affectation of cynicism, but a cold, civil, absolute
-lassitude. A simply charming woman, therefore, would never have served
-the purpose of my father's theory. A very sound and liberal instinct led
-him to direct his thoughts to his sister. There were, of course, various
-auxiliary reasons for such disposal of Mlle. de Bergerac's hand. She was
-now a woman grown, and she had as yet received no decent proposals. She
-had no marriage portion of her own, and my father had no means to endow
-her. Her beauty, moreover, could hardly be called a dowry. It was
-without those vulgar allurements which, for many a poor girl, replace
-the glitter of cash. If within a very few years more she had not
-succeeded in establishing herself creditably in the world, nothing would
-be left for her but to withdraw from it, and to pledge her virgin faith
-to the chilly sanctity of a cloister. I was destined in the course of
-time to assume the lordship and the slender revenues of Bergerac, and it
-was not to be expected that I should be burdened on the very threshold
-of life with the maintenance of a dowerless maiden aunt. A marriage with
-M. de Treuil would be in all senses a creditable match, and, in the
-event of his becoming his kinsman's legatee, a thoroughly comfortable
-one.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It was some time before the color of my father's intentions, and the
-milder hue of the Vicomte's acquiescence, began to show in our common
-daylight. It is not the custom, as you know, in our excellent France, to
-admit a lover on probation. He is expected to make up his mind on a view
-of the young lady's endowments, and to content himself before marriage
-with the bare cognition of her face. It is not thought decent (and there
-is certainly reason in it) that he should dally with his draught, and
-hold it to the light, and let the sun play through it, before carrying
-it to his lips. It was only on the ground of my father's warm good-will
-to Gaston de Treuil, and the latter's affectionate respect for the
-Baron, that the Vicomte was allowed to appear as a lover, before making
-his proposals in form. M. de Treuil, in fact, proceeded gradually, and
-made his approaches from a great distance. It was not for several weeks,
-therefore, that Mlle. de Bergerac became aware of them. And now, as this
-dear young girl steps into my story, where, I ask you, shall I find
-words to describe the broad loveliness of her person, to hint at the
-perfect beauty of her mind, to suggest the sweet mystery of her first
-suspicion of being sought, from afar, in marriage? Not in my fancy,
-surely; for there I should disinter the flimsy elements and tarnished
-properties of a superannuated comic opera. My taste, my son, was formed
-once for all fifty years ago. But if I wish to call up Mlle. de
-Bergerac, I must turn to my earliest memories, and delve in the
-sweet-smelling virgin soil of my heart. For Mlle. de Bergerac is no
-misty sylphid nor romantic moonlit nymph. She rises before me now,
-glowing with life, with the sound of her voice just dying in the
-air,&mdash;the more living for the mark of her crimson death-stain.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was every good reason why her dawning consciousness of M. de
-Treuil's attentions&mdash;although these were little more than projected as
-yet&mdash;should have produced a serious tremor in her heart. It was not
-that she was aught of a coquette; I honestly believe that there was no
-latent coquetry in her nature. At all events, whatever she might have
-become after knowing M. de Treuil, she was no coquette to speak of in her
-ignorance. Her ignorance of men, in truth, was great. For the Vicomte
-himself, she had as yet known him only distantly, formally, as a
-gentleman of rank and fashion; and for others of his quality, she had
-seen but a small number, and not seen them intimately. These few words
-suffice to indicate that my aunt led a life of unbroken monotony. Once a
-year she spent six weeks with certain ladies of the Visitation, in whose
-convent she had received her education, and of whom she continued to be
-very fond. Half a dozen times in the twelvemonth she went to a hall,
-under convoy of some haply ungrudging <i>châtelaine.</i> Two or three times
-a month, she received a visit at Bergerac. The rest of the time she
-paced, with the grace of an angel and the patience of a woman, the
-dreary corridors and unclipt garden walks of Bergerac. The discovery,
-then, that the brilliant Vicomte de Treuil was likely to make a proposal
-for her hand was an event of no small importance. With precisely what
-feelings she awaited its coming, I am unable to tell; but I have no
-hesitation in saying that even at this moment (that is, in less than a
-month after my tutor's arrival) her feelings were strongly modified by
-her acquaintance with Pierre Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The word "acquaintance" perhaps exaggerates Mlle. de Bergerac's relation
-to this excellent young man. Twice a day she sat facing him at table,
-and half a dozen times a week she met him on the staircase, in the
-saloon, or in the park. Coquelin had been accommodated with an apartment
-in a small untenanted pavilion, within the enclosure of our domain, and
-except at meals, and when his presence was especially requested at the
-château, he confined himself to his own precinct. It was there, morning
-and evening, that I took my lesson. It was impossible, therefore, that
-an intimacy should have arisen between these two young persons, equally
-separated as they were by material and conventional barriers.
-Nevertheless, as the sequel proved, Coquelin must, by his mere presence,
-have begun very soon to exert a subtle action on Mlle. de Bergerac's
-thoughts. As for the young girl's influence on Coquelin, it is my belief
-that he fell in love with her the very first moment he beheld
-her,&mdash;that morning when he trudged wearily up our avenue. I need
-certainly make no apology for the poor fellow's audacity. You tell me
-that you fell in love at first sight with my aunt's portrait; you will
-readily excuse the poor youth for having been smitten with the original.
-It is less logical perhaps, but it is certainly no less natural, that
-Mlle. de Bergerac should have ventured to think of my governor as a
-decidedly interesting fellow. She saw so few men that one the more or
-the less made a very great difference. Coquelin's importance, moreover,
-was increased rather than diminished by the fact that, as I may say, he
-was a son of the soil. Marked as he was, in aspect and utterance, with
-the genuine plebeian stamp, he opened a way for the girl's fancy into a
-vague, unknown world. He stirred her imagination, I conceive, in very
-much the same way as such a man as Gaston de Treuil would have
-stirred&mdash;actually had stirred, of course&mdash;the grosser
-sensibilities of many a little <i>bourgeoise.</i> Mlle. de Bergerac was
-so thoroughly at peace with the consequences of her social position, so
-little inclined to derogate in act or in thought from the perfect
-dignity of her birth, that with the best conscience in the world, she
-entertained, as they came, the feelings provoked by Coquelin's manly
-virtues and graces. She had been educated in the faith that <i>noblesse
-oblige</i>, and she had seen none but gentlefolks and peasants. I think
-that she felt a vague, unavowed curiosity to see what sort of a figure
-you might make when you were under no obligations to nobleness. I think,
-finally, that unconsciously and in the interest simply of her
-unsubstantial dreams, (for in those long summer days at Bergerac,
-without finery, without visits, music, or books, or anything that a
-well-to-do grocer's daughter enjoys at the present day, she must, unless
-she was a far greater simpleton than I wish you to suppose, have spun a
-thousand airy, idle visions,) she contrasted Pierre Coquelin with the
-Vicomte de Treuil. I protest that I don't see how Coquelin bore the
-contrast. I frankly admit that, in her place, I would have given all my
-admiration to the Vicomte. At all events, the chief result of any such
-comparison must have been to show how, in spite of real trials and
-troubles, Coquelin had retained a certain masculine freshness and
-elasticity, and how, without any sorrows but those of his own wanton
-making, the Vicomte had utterly rubbed off his primal bloom of manhood.
-There was that about Gaston de Treuil that reminded you of an actor by
-daylight. His little row of foot-lights had burned itself out. But this
-is assuredly a more pedantic view of the case than any that Mlle. de
-Bergerac was capable of taking. The Vicomte had but to learn his part
-and declaim it, and the illusion was complete.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac may really have been a great simpleton, and my theory
-of her feelings&mdash;vague and imperfect as it is&mdash;may be put
-together quite after the fact. But I see you protest; you glance at the
-picture; you frown. <i>C'est bon</i>; give me your hand. She received the
-Vicomte's gallantries, then, with a modest, conscious dignity, and
-courtesied to exactly the proper depth when he made her one of his
-inimitable bows.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-One evening&mdash;it was, I think, about ten days after Coquelin's
-arrival&mdash;she was sitting reading to my mother, who was ill in bed. The
-Vicomte had been dining with us, and after dinner we had gone into the
-drawing-room. At the drawing-room door Coquelin had made his bow to my
-father, and carried me off to his own apartment. Mlle. de Bergerac and
-the two gentlemen had gone into the drawing-room together. At dusk I had
-come back to the château, and, going up to my mother, had found her in
-company with her sister-in-law. In a few moments my father came in,
-looking stern and black.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Sister," he cried, "why did you leave us alone in the drawing-room?
-Didn't you see I wanted you to stay?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac laid down her book and looked at her brother before
-answering. "I had to come to my sister," she said: "I couldn't leave her
-alone."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My mother, I'm sorry to say, was not always just to my aunt. She used to
-lose patience with her sister's want of coquetry, of ambition, of desire
-to make much of herself. She divined wherein my aunt had offended.
-"You're very devoted to your sister, suddenly," she said. "There are
-duties and duties, mademoiselle. I'm very much obliged to you for
-reading to me. You can put down the book."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The Vicomte swore very hard when you went out," my father went on.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac laid aside her book. "Dear me!" she said, "if he was
-going to swear, it's very well I went."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Are you afraid of the Vicomte?" said my mother. "You're twenty-two
-years old. You're not a little girl."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Is she twenty-two?" cried my father. "I told him she was twenty-one."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Frankly, brother," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "what does he want? Does he
-want to marry me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father stared a moment. "<i>Pardieu!</i>" he cried.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"She looks as if she didn't believe it," said my mother. "Pray, did you
-ever ask him?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, madam; did you? You are very kind." Mlle. de Bergerac was excited;
-her cheeks flushed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In the course of time," said my father, gravely, "the Vicomte proposes
-to demand your hand."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What is he waiting for?" asked Mlle. de Bergerac, simply.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Fi donc, mademoiselle!</i>" cried my mother.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"He is waiting for M. de Sorbières to die," said I, who had got this
-bit of news from my mother's waiting-woman.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father stared at me, half angrily; and then,&mdash;"He expects to
-inherit," he said, boldly. "It's a very fine property."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"He would have done better, it seems to me," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac,
-after a pause, "to wait till he had actually come into possession of
-it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. de Sorbières," cried my father, "has given him his word a dozen
-times over. Besides, the Vicomte loves you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac blushed, with a little smile, and as she did so her
-eyes fell on mine. I was standing gazing at her as a child gazes at a
-familiar friend who is presented to him in a new light. She put out her
-hand and drew me towards her. "The truth comes out of the mouths of
-children," she said. "Chevalier, does he love me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Stuff!" cried the Baronne; "one doesn't: speak to children of such
-things. A young girl should believe what she's told. I believed my
-mother when she told me that your brother loved me. He didn't, but I
-believed it, and as far as I know I'm none the worse for it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-For ten days after this I heard nothing more of Mlle. de Bergerac's
-marriage, and I suppose that, childlike, I ceased to think of what I had
-already heard. One evening, about midsummer, M. de Treuil came over to
-supper, and announced that he was about to set out in company with poor
-M. de Sorbières for some mineral springs in the South, by the use of
-which the latter hoped to prolong his life.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I remember that, while we sat at table, Coquelin was appealed to as an
-authority upon some topic broached by the Vicomte, on which he found
-himself at variance with my father. It was the first time, I fancy, that
-he had been so honored and that his opinions had been deemed worth
-hearing. The point under discussion must have related to the history of
-the American War, for Coquelin spoke with the firmness and fulness
-warranted by personal knowledge. I fancy that he was a little frightened
-by the sound of his own voice, but he acquitted himself with perfect
-good grace and success. We all sat attentive; my mother even staring a
-little, surprised to find in a beggarly pedagogue a perfect beau diseur.
-My father, as became so great a gentleman, knew by a certain rough
-instinct when a man had something amusing to say. He leaned back, with
-his hands in his pockets, listening and paying the poor fellow the
-tribute of a half-puzzled frown. The Vicomte, like a man of taste, was
-charmed. He told stories himself, he was a good judge.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-After supper we went out on the terrace. It was a perfect summer night,
-neither too warm nor too cool. There was no moon, but the stars flung
-down their languid light, and the earth, with its great dark masses of
-vegetation and the gently swaying tree-tops, seemed to answer back in a
-thousand vague perfumes. Somewhere, close at hand, out of an enchanted
-tree, a nightingale raved and carolled in delirious music. We had the
-good taste to listen in silence. My mother sat down on a bench against
-the house, and put out her hand and made my father sit beside her. Mlle.
-de Bergerac strolled to the edge of the terrace, and leaned against the
-balustrade, whither M. de Treuil soon followed her. She stood
-motionless, with her head raised, intent upon the music. The Vicomte
-seated himself upon the parapet, with his face towards her and his arms
-folded. He may perhaps have been talking, under cover of the
-nightingale. Coquelin seated himself near the other end of the terrace,
-and drew me between his knees. At last the nightingale ceased. Coquelin
-got up, and bade good night to the company, and made his way across the
-park to his lodge. I went over to my aunt and the Vicomte.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. Coquelin is a clever man," said the Vicomte, as he disappeared down
-the avenue. "He spoke very well this evening."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"He never spoke so much before," said I. "He's very shy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I think," said my aunt, "he's a little proud."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I don't understand," said the Vicomte, "how a man with any pride can
-put up with the place of a tutor. I had rather dig in the fields."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The Chevalier is much obliged to you," said my aunt, laughing. "In
-fact, M. Coquelin has to dig a little, hasn't he, Chevalier?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not at all," said I. "But he keeps some plants in pots."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At this my aunt and the Vicomte began to laugh. "He keeps one precious
-plant," cried my aunt, tapping my face with her fan.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At this moment my mother called me away. "He makes them laugh," I heard
-her say to my father, as I went to her.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"She had better laugh about it than cry," said my father.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Before long, Mlle. de Bergerac and her companion came back toward the
-house.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. le Vicomte, brother," said my aunt, "invites me to go down and walk
-in the park. May I accept?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"By all means," said my father. "You may go with the Vicomte as you
-would go with me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah!" said the Vicomte.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Come then, Chevalier," said my aunt. "In my turn, I invite you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My son," said the Baronne, "I forbid you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But my brother says," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac, "that I may go with
-M. de Treuil as I would go with himself. He would not object to my
-taking my nephew." And she put out her hand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"One would think," said my mother, "that you were setting out for
-Siberia."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"For Siberia!" cried the Vicomte, laughing; "O no!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I paused, undecided. But my father gave me a push. "After all," he said,
-"it's better."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-When I overtook my aunt and her lover, the latter, losing no time,
-appeared to have come quite to the point.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your brother tells me, mademoiselle," he had begun, "that he has spoken
-to you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The young girl was silent.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You may be indifferent," pursued the Vicomte, "but I can't believe
-you're ignorant."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My brother has spoken to me," said Mlle. de Bergerac at last, with an
-apparent effort,&mdash;"my brother has spoken to me of his project."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I'm very glad he seemed to you to have espoused my cause so warmly that
-you call it his own. I did my best to convince him that I possess what a
-person of your merit is entitled to exact of the man who asks her hand.
-In doing so, I almost convinced myself. The point is now to convince
-you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I listen."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You admit, then, that your mind is not made up in advance against me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" cried my aunt, with some emphasis, "a poor girl like me
-doesn't make up her mind. You frighten me, Vicomte. This is a serious
-question. I have the misfortune to have no mother. I can only pray God.
-But prayer helps me not to choose, but only to be resigned."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Pray often, then, mademoiselle. I'm not an arrogant lover, and since I
-have known you a little better, I have lost all my vanity. I'm not a
-good man nor a wise one. I have no doubt you think me very light and
-foolish, but you can't begin to know how light and foolish I am. Marry
-me and you'll never know. If you don't marry me, I'm afraid you'll never
-marry."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You're very frank. Vicomte. If you think I'm afraid of never marrying,
-you're mistaken. One can be very happy as an old maid. I spend six weeks
-every year with the ladies of the Visitation. Several of them are
-excellent women, charming women. They read, they educate young girls,
-they visit the poor&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Vicomte broke into a laugh. "They get up at five o'clock in the
-morning; they breakfast on boiled cabbage; they make flannel waistcoats,
-and very good sweetmeats! Why do you talk so, mademoiselle? Why do you
-say that you would like to lead such a life? One might almost believe it
-is coquetry. <i>Tenez</i>, I believe it's ignorance,&mdash;ignorance of
-your own feelings, your own nature, and your own needs." M. de Treuil
-paused a moment, and, although I had a very imperfect notion of the meaning
-of his words, I remember being struck with the vehement look of his pale
-face, which seemed fairly to glow in the darkness. Plainly, he was in
-love. "You are not made for solitude," he went on; "you are not made to
-be buried in a dingy old château, in the depths of a ridiculous
-province. You are made for the world, for the court, for pleasure, to be
-loved, admired, and envied. No, you don't know yourself, nor does
-Bergerac know you, nor his wife! I, at least, appreciate you. I blow
-that you are supremely beautiful&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Vicomte," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "you forget&mdash;the child."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Hang the child! Why did you bring him along? You are no child. You can
-understand me. You are a woman, full of intelligence and goodness and
-beauty. They don't know you here, they think you a little demoiselle in
-pinafores. Before Heaven, mademoiselle, there is that about you,&mdash;I
-see it, I feel it here at your side, in this rustling darkness&mdash;there
-is that about you that a man would gladly die for."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac interrupted him with energy. "You talk extravagantly.
-I don't understand you; you frighten me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I talk as I feel. I frighten you? So much the better. I wish to stir
-your heart and get some answer to the passion of my own."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac was silent a moment, as if collecting her thoughts.
-"If I talk with you on this subject, I must do it with my wits about
-me," she said at last. "I must know exactly what we each mean."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's plain then that I can't hope to inspire you with any degree of
-affection."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"One doesn't promise to love, Vicomte; I can only answer for the
-present. My heart is so full of good wishes toward you that it costs me
-comparatively little to say I don't love you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And anything I may say of my own feelings will make no difference to
-you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You have said you love me. Let it rest there."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But you look as if you doubted my word."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You can't see how I look; Vicomte, I believe you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well then, there is one point gained. Let us pass to the others. I'm
-thirty years old. I have a very good name and a very bad reputation. I
-honestly believe that, though I've fallen below my birth, I've kept
-above my fame. I believe that I have no vices of temper; I'm neither
-brutal, nor jealous, nor miserly. As for my fortune, I'm obliged to
-admit that it consists chiefly in my expectations. My actual property is
-about equal to your brother's and you know how your sister-in-law is
-obliged to live. My expectations are thought particularly good. My
-great-uncle, M. de Sorbières, possesses, chiefly in landed estates, a
-fortune of some three millions of livres. I have no important
-competitors, either in blood or devotion. He is eighty-seven years old
-and paralytic, and within the past year I have been laying siege to his
-favor with such constancy that his surrender, like his extinction, is
-only a question of time. I received yesterday a summons to go with him
-to the Pyrenees, to drink certain medicinal waters. The least he can do,
-on my return, is to make me a handsome allowance, which with my own
-revenues will make&mdash;<i>en attendant</i> better things&mdash;a
-sufficient income for a reasonable couple."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was a pause of some moments, during which we slowly walked along
-in the obstructed starlight, the silence broken only by the train of my
-aunt's dress brushing against the twigs and pebbles.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What a pity," she said, at last, "that you are not able to speak of all
-this good fortune as in the present rather than in the future."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There it is! Until I came to know you, I had no thoughts of marriage.
-What did I want of wealth? If five years ago I had foreseen this moment,
-I should stand here with something better than promises."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, Vicomte," pursued the young girl, with singular composure, "you
-do me the honor to think very well of me: I hope you will not be vexed
-to find that prudence is one of my virtues. If I marry, I wish to marry
-well. It's not only the husband, but the marriage that counts. In
-accepting you as you stand, I should make neither a sentimental match
-nor a brilliant one."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Excellent. I love you, prudence and all. Say, then, that I present
-myself here three months hence with the titles and tokens of property
-amounting to a million and a half of livres, will you consider that I am
-a <i>parti</i> sufficiently brilliant to make you forget that you don't
-love me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I should never forget that."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, nor I either. It makes a sort of sorrowful harmony! If three
-months hence, I repeat, I offer you a fortune instead of this poor empty
-hand, will you accept the one for the sake of the other?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My aunt stopped short in the path. "I hope, Vicomte," she said, with
-much apparent simplicity, "that you are going to do nothing indelicate."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"God forbid, mademoiselle! It shall be a clean hand and a clean
-fortune."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"If you ask then a promise, a pledge&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You'll not give it. I ask then only for a little hope. Give it in what
-form you will."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We walked a few steps farther and came out from among the shadows,
-beneath the open sky. The voice of M. de Treuil, as he uttered these
-words, was low and deep and tender and full of entreaty. Mlle. de
-Bergerac cannot but have been deeply moved. I think she was somewhat
-awe-struck at having called up such a force of devotion in a nature
-deemed cold and inconstant. She put out her hand. "I wish success to any
-honorable efforts. In any case you will be happier for your wealth. In
-one case it will get you a wife, and in the other it will console you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Console me! I shall hate it, despise it, and throw it into the sea!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac had no intention, of course, of leaving her companion
-under an illusion. "Ah, but understand. Vicomte," she said, "I make no
-promise. My brother claims the right to bestow my hand. If he wishes our
-marriage now, of course he will wish it three months hence. I have never
-gainsaid him."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"From now to three months a great deal may happen."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To you, perhaps, but not to me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Are you going to your friends of the Visitation?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, indeed. I have no wish to spend the summer in a cloister. I prefer
-the green fields."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, then <i>va</i> for the green fields! They're the next best thing. I
-recommend you to the Chevalier's protection."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We had made half the circuit of the park, and turned into an alley which
-stretched away towards the house, and about midway in its course
-separated into two paths, one leading to the main avenue, and the other
-to the little pavilion inhabited by Coquelin. At the point where the
-alley was divided stood an enormous oak of great circumference, with a
-circular bench surrounding its trunk. It occupied, I believe, the
-central point of the whole domain. As we reached the oak, I looked down
-along the footpath towards the pavilion, and saw Coquelin's light
-shining in one of the windows. I immediately proposed that we should pay
-him a visit. My aunt objected, on the ground that he was doubtless busy
-and would not thank us for interrupting him. And then, when I insisted,
-she said it was not proper.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"How not proper?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's not proper for me. A lady doesn't visit young men in their own
-apartments."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At this the Vicomte cried out. He was partly amused, I think, at my
-aunt's attaching any compromising power to poor little Coquelin, and
-partly annoyed at her not considering his own company, in view of his
-pretensions, a sufficient guaranty.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I should think," he said, "that with the Chevalier and me you might
-venture&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"As you please, then," said my aunt. And I accordingly led the way to my
-governor's abode.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It was a small edifice of a single floor, standing prettily enough among
-the trees, and still habitable, although very much in disrepair. It had
-been built by that same ancestor to whom Bergerac was indebted, in the
-absence of several of the necessities of life, for many of its elegant
-superfluities, and had been designed, I suppose, as a scene of
-pleasure,&mdash;such pleasure as he preferred to celebrate elsewhere than
-beneath the roof of his domicile. Whether it had ever been used I know
-not; but it certainly had very little of the look of a pleasure-house.
-Such furniture as it had once possessed had long since been transferred
-to the needy saloons of the château, and it now looked dark and bare
-and cold. In front, the shrubbery had been left to grow thick and wild
-and almost totally to exclude the light from the windows; but behind,
-outside of the two rooms which he occupied, and which had been provided
-from the château with the articles necessary for comfort, Coquelin had
-obtained my father's permission to effect a great clearance in the
-foliage, and he now enjoyed plenty of sunlight and a charming view of
-the neighboring country. It was in the larger of these two rooms,
-arranged as a sort of study, that we found him.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-He seemed surprised and somewhat confused by our visit, but he very soon
-recovered himself sufficiently to do the honors of his little
-establishment.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It was an idea of my nephew," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "We were walking
-in the park, and he saw your light. Now that we are here, Chevalier,
-what would you have us do?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. Coquelin has some very pretty things to show you," said I.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin turned very red. "Pretty things, Chevalier? Pray, what do you
-mean? I have some of your nephew's copy-books," he said, turning to my
-aunt.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nay, you have some of your own," I cried. "He has books full of
-drawings, made by himself."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah, you draw?" said the Vicomte.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. le Chevalier does me the honor to think so. My drawings are meant
-for no critics but children."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In the way of criticism," said my aunt, gently, "we too are children."
-Her beautiful eyes, as she uttered these words, must have been quite as
-gentle as her voice. Coquelin looked at her, thinking very modestly of
-his little pictures, but loth to refuse the first request she had ever
-made him.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Show them, at any rate," said the Vicomte, in a somewhat peremptory
-tone. In those days, you see, a man occupying Coquelin's place was
-expected to hold all his faculties and talents at the disposal of his
-patron, and it was thought an unwarrantable piece of assumption that he
-should cultivate any of the arts for his own peculiar delectation. In
-withholding his drawings, therefore, it may have seemed to the Vicomte that
-Coquelin was unfaithful to the service to which he was held,&mdash;that,
-namely, of instructing, diverting, and edifying the household of
-Bergerac. Coquelin went to a little cupboard in the wall, and took out
-three small albums and a couple of portfolios. Mlle. de Bergerac sat
-down at the table, and Coquelin drew up the lamp and placed his drawings
-before her. He turned them over, and gave such explanations as seemed
-necessary. I have only my childish impressions of the character of these
-sketches, which, in my eyes, of course, seemed prodigiously clever. What
-the judgment of my companions was worth I know not, but they appeared
-very well pleased. The Vicomte probably knew a good sketch from a poor
-one, and he very good-naturedly pronounced my tutor an extremely knowing
-fellow. Coquelin had drawn anything and everything,&mdash;peasants and dumb
-brutes, landscapes and Parisian types and figures, taken indifferently
-from high and low life. But the best pieces in the collection were a
-series of illustrations and reminiscences of his adventures with the
-American army, and of the figures and episodes he had observed in the
-Colonies. They were for the most part rudely enough executed, owing to
-his want of time and materials, but they were full of <i>finesse</i> and
-character. M. de Treuil was very much amused at the rude equipments of
-your ancestors. There were sketches of the enemy too, whom Coquelin had
-apparently not been afraid to look in the face. While he was turning
-over these designs for Mlle. de Bergerac, the Vicomte took up one of his
-portfolios, and, after a short inspection, drew from it, with a cry of
-surprise, a large portrait in pen and ink.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Tiens!</i>" said I; "it's my aunt!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin turned pale. Mlle. de Bergerac looked at him, and turned the
-least bit red. As for the Vicomte, he never changed color. There was no
-eluding the fact that it was a likeness, and Coquelin had to pay the
-penalty of his skill.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I didn't know," he said, at random, "that it was in that portfolio. Do
-you recognize it, mademoiselle?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah," said the Vicomte, dryly, "M. Coquelin meant to hide it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's too pretty to hide," said my aunt; "and yet it's too pretty to
-show. It's flattered."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Why should I have flattered you, mademoiselle?" asked Coquelin. "You
-were never to see it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's what it is, mademoiselle," said the Vicomte, "to have such
-dazzling beauty. It penetrates the world. Who knows where you'll find it
-reflected next?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-However pretty a compliment this may have been to Mlle. de Bergerac, it
-was decidedly a back-handed blow to Coquelin. The young girl perceived
-that he felt it.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-She rose to her feet. "My beauty," she said, with a slight tremor in her
-voice, "would be a small thing without M. Coquelin's talent. We are much
-obliged to you. I hope that you'll bring your pictures to the château,
-so that we may look at the rest."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Are you going to leave him this?" asked M. de Treuil, holding up the
-portrait.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"If M. Coquelin will give it to me, I shall be very glad to have it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"One doesn't keep one's own portrait," said the Vicomte. "It ought to
-belong to me." In those days, before the invention of our sublime
-machinery for the reproduction of the human face, a young fellow was
-very glad to have his mistress's likeness in pen and ink.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-But Coquelin had no idea of contributing to the Vicomte's gallery.
-"Excuse me," he said, gently, but looking the nobleman in the face. "The
-picture isn't good enough for Mlle. de Bergerac, but it's too good for
-any one else"; and he drew it out of the other's hands, tore it across,
-and applied it to the flame of the lamp.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We went back to the château in silence. The drawing-room was empty; but
-as we went in, the Vicomte took a lighted candle from a table and raised
-it to the young girl's face. "<i>Parbleu!</i>" he exclaimed, "the vagabond
-had looked at you to good purpose!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac gave a half-confused laugh. "At any rate," she said,
-"he didn't hold a candle to me as if I were my old smoke-stained
-grandame, yonder!" and she blew out the light. "I'll call my brother,"
-she said, preparing to retire.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"A moment," said her lover; "I shall not see you for some weeks. I shall
-start to-morrow with my uncle. I shall think of you by day, and dream of
-you by night. And meanwhile I shall very much doubt whether you think of
-me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac smiled. "Doubt, doubt. It will help you to pass the
-time. With faith alone it would hang very heavy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It seems hard," pursued M. de Treuil, "that I should give you so many
-pledges, and that you should give me none."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I give all I ask."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Then, for Heaven's sake, ask for something!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your kind words are all I want."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Then give me some kind word yourself."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What shall I say. Vicomte?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Say,&mdash;say that you'll wait for me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-They were standing in the centre of the great saloon, their figures
-reflected by the light of a couple of candles in the shining inlaid
-floor. Mlle. de Bergerac walked away a few steps with a look of
-agitation. Then turning about, "Vicomte," she asked, in a deep, full
-voice, "do you truly love me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah, Gabrielle!" cried the young man.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I take it that no woman can hear her baptismal name uttered for the
-first time as that of Mlle. de Bergerac then came from her suitor's lips
-without being thrilled with joy and pride.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, M. de Treuil," she said, "I will wait for you."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h4>
-
-<p>
-I remember distinctly the incidents of that summer at Bergerac; or at
-least its general character, its tone. It was a hot, dry season; we
-lived with doors and windows open. M. Coquelin suffered very much from
-the heat, and sometimes, for days together, my lessons were suspended.
-We put our books away and rambled out for a long day in the fields. My
-tutor was perfectly faithful; he never allowed me to wander beyond call.
-I was very fond of fishing, and I used to sit for hours, like a little
-old man, with my legs dangling over the bank of our slender river,
-patiently awaiting the bite that so seldom came. Near at hand, in the
-shade, stretched at his length on the grass, Coquelin read and re-read
-one of his half dozen Greek and Latin poets. If we had walked far from
-home, we used to go and ask for some dinner at the hut of a neighboring
-peasant. For a very small coin we got enough bread and cheese and small
-fruit to keep us over till supper. The peasants, stupid and squalid as
-they were, always received us civilly enough, though on Coquelin's
-account quite as much as on my own. He addressed them with an easy
-familiarity, which made them feel, I suppose, that he was, if not quite
-one of themselves, at least by birth and sympathies much nearer to them
-than to the future Baron de Bergerac. He gave me in the course of these
-walks a great deal of good advice; and without perverting my signorial
-morals or instilling any notions that were treason to my rank and
-position, he kindled in my childish breast a little democratic flame
-which has never quite become extinct. He taught me the beauty of
-humanity, justice, and tolerance; and whenever he detected me in a
-precocious attempt to assert my baronial rights over the wretched little
-<i>manants</i> who crossed my path, he gave me morally a very hard
-drubbing. He had none of the base complaisance and cynical nonchalance of
-the traditional tutor of our old novels and comedies. Later in life I might
-have found him too rigorous a moralist; but in those days I liked him
-all the better for letting me sometimes feel the curb. It gave me a
-highly agreeable sense of importance and a maturity. It was a tribute to
-half-divined possibilities of naughtiness. In the afternoon, when I was
-tired of fishing, he would lie with his thumb in his book and his eyes
-half closed and tell me fairy-tales till the eyes of both of us closed
-together. Do the instructors of youth nowadays condescend to the
-fairy-tale pure and simple? Coquelin's stories belonged to the old, old
-world: no political economy, no physics, no application to anything in
-life. Do you remember in Doré's illustrations to Perrault's tales, the
-picture of the enchanted castle of the Sleeping Beauty? Back in the
-distance, in the bosom of an ancient park and surrounded by thick
-baronial woods which blacken all the gloomy horizon, on the farther side
-of a great abysmal hollow of tangled forest verdure, rise the long
-façade, the moss-grown terraces, the towers, the purple roofs, of a
-château of the time of Henry IV. Its massive foundations plunge far
-down into the wild chasm of the woodland, and its cold pinnacles of
-slate tower upwards, close to the rolling autumn clouds. The afternoon
-is closing in and a chill October wind is beginning to set the forest
-a-howling. In the foreground, on an elevation beneath a mighty oak,
-stand a couple of old woodcutters pointing across into the enchanted
-distance and answering the questions of the young prince. They are the
-bent and blackened woodcutters of old France, of La Fontaine's Fables
-and the <i>Médecin malgré lui.</i> What does the castle contain? What
-secret is locked in its stately walls? What revel is enacted in its long
-saloons? What strange figures stand aloof from its vacant windows? You
-ask the question, and the answer is a long revery. I never look at the
-picture without thinking of those summer afternoons in the woods and of
-Coquelin's long stories. His fairies were the fairies of the <i>Grand
-Siècle</i>, and his princes and shepherds the godsons of Perrault and
-Madame d'Aulnay. They lived in such palaces and they hunted in such
-woods.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac, to all appearance, was not likely to break her promise
-to M. de Treuil,&mdash;for lack of the opportunity, quite as much as
-of the will. Those bright summer days must have seemed very long to her,
-and I can't for my life imagine what she did with her time. But she,
-too, as she had told the Vicomte, was very fond of the green fields; and
-although she never wandered very far from the house, she spent many an
-hour in the open air. Neither here nor within doors was she likely to
-encounter the happy man of whom the Vicomte might be jealous. Mlle. de
-Bergerac had a friend, a single intimate friend, who came sometimes to
-pass the day with her, and whose visits she occasionally returned. Marie
-de Chalais, the granddaughter of the Marquis de Chalais, who lived some
-ten miles away, was in all respects the exact counterpart and foil of my
-aunt. She was extremely plain, but with that sprightly, highly seasoned
-ugliness which is often so agreeable to men. Short, spare, swarthy,
-light, with an immense mouth, a most impertinent little nose, an
-imperceptible foot, a charming hand, and a delightful voice, she was, in
-spite of her great name and her fine clothes, the very ideal of the old
-stage soubrette. Frequently, indeed, in her dress and manner, she used
-to provoke a comparison with this incomparable type. A cap, an apron,
-and a short petticoat were all sufficient; with these and her bold, dark
-eyes she could impersonate the very genius of impertinence and intrigue.
-She was a thoroughly light creature, and later in life, after her
-marriage, she became famous for her ugliness, her witticisms, and her
-adventures; but that she had a good heart is shown by her real
-attachment to my aunt. They were forever at cross-purposes, and yet they
-were excellent friends. When my aunt wished to walk, Mlle. de Chalais
-wished to sit still; when Mlle. de Chalais wished to laugh, my aunt
-wished to meditate; when my aunt wished to talk piety, Mlle. de Chalais
-wished to talk scandal. Mlle. de Bergerac, however, usually carried the
-day and set the tune. There was nothing on earth that Marie de Chalais
-so despised as the green fields; and yet you might have seen her a dozen
-times that summer wandering over the domain of Bergerac, in a short
-muslin dress and a straw hat, with her arm entwined about the waist of
-her more stately friend. We used often to meet them, and as we drew near
-Mlle. de Chalais would always stop and offer to kiss the Chevalier. By
-this pretty trick Coquelin was subjected for a few moments to the
-influence of her innocent <i>agaçeries</i>; for rather than have no man at
-all to prick with the little darts of her coquetry, the poor girl would
-have gone off and made eyes at the scare-crow in the wheat-field.
-Coquelin was not at all abashed by her harmless advances; for although,
-in addressing my aunt, he was apt to lose his voice or his countenance,
-he often showed a very pretty wit in answering Mlle. de Chalais.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On one occasion she spent several days at Bergerac, and during her stay
-she proffered an urgent entreaty that my aunt should go back with her to
-her grandfather's house, where, having no parents, she lived with her
-governess. Mlle. de Bergerac declined, on the ground of having no gowns
-fit to visit in; whereupon Mlle. de Chalais went to my mother, begged
-the gift of an old blue silk dress, and with her own cunning little
-hands made it over for my aunt's figure. That evening Mlle. de Bergerac
-appeared at supper in this renovated garment,&mdash;the first silk gown she
-had ever worn. Mlle. de Chalais had also dressed her hair, and decked
-her out with a number of trinkets and furbelows; and when the two came
-into the room together, they reminded me of the beautiful Duchess in Don
-Quixote, followed by a little dark-visaged Spanish waiting-maid. The
-next morning Coquelin and I rambled off as usual in search of
-adventures, and the day after that they were to leave the château.
-Whether we met with any adventures or not I forget; but we found
-ourselves at dinner-time at some distance from home, very hungry after a
-long tramp. We directed our steps to a little roadside hovel, where we
-had already purchased hospitality, and made our way in unannounced. We
-were somewhat surprised at the scene that met our eyes.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On a wretched bed at the farther end of the hut lay the master of the
-household, a young peasant whom we had seen a fortnight before in full
-health and vigor. At the head of the bed stood his wife, moaning,
-crying, and wringing her hands. Hanging about her, clinging to her
-skirts, and adding their piping cries to her own lamentations, were four
-little children, unwashed, unfed, and half clad. At the foot, facing the
-dying man, knelt his old mother&mdash;a horrible hag, so bent and brown and
-wrinkled with labor and age that there was nothing womanly left of her
-but her coarse, rude dress and cap, nothing of maternity but her sobs.
-Beside the pillow stood the priest, who had apparently just discharged
-the last offices of the Church. On the other side, on her knees, with
-the poor fellow's hand in her own, knelt Mlle. de Bergerac, like a
-consoling angel. On a stool near the door, looking on from a distance,
-sat Mlle. de Chalais, holding a little bleating kid in her arms. When
-she saw us, she started up. "Ah, M. Coquelin!" she cried, "do persuade
-Mlle. de Bergerac to leave this horrible place."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I saw Mlle. de Bergerac look at the curé and shake her head, as if to
-say that it was all over. She rose from her knees and went round
-to the wife, telling the same tale with her face. The poor, squalid
-<i>paysanne</i> gave a sort of savage, stupid cry, and threw herself and
-her rags on the young girl's neck. Mlle. de Bergerac caressed her, and
-whispered heaven knows what divinely simple words of comfort. Then, for
-the first time, she saw Coquelin and me, and beckoned us to approach.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Chevalier," she said, still holding the woman on her breast, "have you
-got any money?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At these words the woman raised her head. I signified that I was
-penniless.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My aunt frowned impatiently. "M. Coquelin, have you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin drew forth a single small piece, all that he possessed; for it
-was the end of his month. Mlle. de Bergerac took it, and pursued her
-inquiry.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Curé, have you any money?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not a sou," said the curé, smiling sweetly.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Bah!" said Mlle. de Bergerac, with a sort of tragic petulance. "What
-can I do with twelve sous?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Give it all the same," said the woman, doggedly, putting out her hand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"They want money," said Mlle de Bergerac, lowering her voice to
-Coquelin. "They have had this great sorrow, but a <i>louis d'or</i> would
-dull the wound. But we're all penniless. O for the sight of a little
-gold!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I have a <i>louis</i> at home," said I; and I felt Coquelin lay his hand
-on my head.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What was the matter with the husband?" he asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" said my aunt, glancing round at the bed. "I don't know."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin looked at her, half amazed, half worshipping.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Who are they, these people? What are they?" she asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Mademoiselle," said Coquelin, fervently, "you're an angel!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I wish I were," said Mlle. de Bergerac, simply; and she turned to the
-old mother.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We walked home together,&mdash;the curé with Mlle. de Chalais and me, and
-Mlle. de Bergerac in front with Coquelin. Asking how the two young girls
-had found their way to the deathbed we had just left, I learned from
-Mlle. de Chalais that they had set out for a stroll together, and,
-striking into a footpath across the fields, had gone farther than they
-supposed, and lost their way. While they were trying to recover it, they
-came upon the wretched hut where we had found them, and were struck by
-the sight of two children, standing crying at the door. Mlle. de
-Bergerac had stopped and questioned them to ascertain the cause of their
-sorrow, which with some difficulty she found to be that their father was
-dying of a fever. Whereupon, in spite of her companion's lively
-opposition, she had entered the miserable abode, and taken her place at
-the wretched couch, in the position in which we had discovered her. All
-this, doubtless, implied no extraordinary merit on Mlle. de Bergerac's
-part; but it placed her in a gracious, pleasing light.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The next morning the young girls went off in the great coach of M. de
-Chalais, which had been sent for them overnight, my father riding along
-as an escort. My aunt was absent a week, and I think I may say we keenly
-missed her. When I say we, I mean Coquelin and I, and when I say
-Coquelin and I, I mean Coquelin in particular; for it had come to this,
-that my tutor was roundly in love with my aunt. I didn't know it then,
-of course; but looking back, I see that he must already have been
-stirred to his soul's depths. Young as I was, moreover, I believe that I
-even then suspected his passion, and, loving him as I did, watched it
-with a vague, childish awe and sympathy. My aunt was to me, of course, a
-very old story, and I am sure she neither charmed nor dazzled my boyish
-fancy. I was quite too young to apprehend the meaning or the
-consequences of Coquelin's feelings; but I knew that he had a secret,
-and I wished him joy of it. He kept so jealous a guard on it that I
-would have defied my elders to discover the least reason for accusing
-him; but with a simple child of ten, thinking himself alone and
-uninterpreted, he showed himself plainly a lover. He was absent,
-restless, preoccupied; now steeped in languid revery, now pacing up and
-down with the exaltation of something akin to hope. Hope itself he could
-never have felt; for it must have seemed to him that his passion was so
-audacious as almost to be criminal. Mlle. de Bergerac's absence showed
-him, I imagine, that to know her had been the event of his life; to see
-her across the table, to hear her voice, her tread, to pass her, to meet
-her eye, a deep, consoling, healing joy. It revealed to him the force
-with which she had grasped his heart, and I think he was half frightened
-at the energy of his passion.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-One evening, while Mlle. de Bergerac was still away, I sat in his
-window, committing my lesson for the morrow by the waning light. He was
-walking up and down among the shadows. "Chevalier," said he, suddenly,
-"what should you do if I were to leave you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My poor little heart stood still. "Leave me?" I cried, aghast; "why
-should you leave me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Why, you know I didn't come to stay forever."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But you came to stay till I'm a man grown. Don't you like your place?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Perfectly."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Don't you like my father?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your father is excellent."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And my mother?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your mother is perfect."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And me, Coquelin?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You, Chevalier, are a little goose."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And then, from a sort of unreasoned instinct that Mlle. de Bergerac was
-somehow connected with his idea of going away, "And my aunt?" I added.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"How, your aunt?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Don't you like her?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin had stopped in his walk, and stood near me and above me. He
-looked at me some moments without answering, and then sat down beside me
-in the window-seat, and laid his hand on my head.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Chevalier," he said, "I will tell you something."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well?" said I, after I had waited some time.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"One of these days you will be a man grown, and I shall have left you
-long before that. You'll learn a great many things that you don't know
-now. You'll learn what a strange, vast world it is, and what strange
-creatures men are&mdash;and women; how strong, how weak, how happy, how
-unhappy. You'll learn how many feelings and passions they have, and what
-a power of joy and of suffering. You'll be Baron de Bergerac and master
-of the château and of this little house. You'll sometimes be very proud
-of your title, and you'll sometimes feel very sad that it's so little
-more than a bare title. But neither your pride nor your grief will come
-to anything beside this, that one day, in the prime of your youth and
-strength and good looks, you'll see a woman whom you will love more than
-all these things,&mdash;more than your name, your lands, your youth, and
-strength, and beauty. It happens to all men, especially the good ones,
-and you'll be a good one. But the woman you love will be far out of your
-reach. She'll be a princess, perhaps she'll be the Queen. How can a poor
-little Baron de Bergerac expect her to look at him? You will give up
-your life for a touch of her hand; but what will she care for your life
-or your death? You'll curse your love, and yet you'll bless it, and
-perhaps&mdash;not having your living to get&mdash;you'll come up here and
-shut yourself up with your dreams and regrets. You'll come perhaps into
-this pavilion, and sit here alone in the twilight. And then, my child,
-you'll remember this evening; that I foretold it all and gave you my
-blessing in advance and&mdash;kissed you." He bent over, and I felt his
-burning lips on my forehead.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I understood hardly a word of what he said; but whether it was that I
-was terrified by his picture of the possible insignificance of a Baron
-de Bergerac, or that I was vaguely overawed by his deep, solemn tones, I
-know not; but my eyes very quietly began to emit a flood of tears. The
-effect of my grief was to induce him to assure me that he had no present
-intention of leaving me. It was not, of course, till later in life,
-that, thinking over the situation, I understood his impulse to arrest
-his hopeless passion for Mlle. de Bergerac by immediate departure. He
-was not brave in time.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At the end of a week she returned one evening as we were at supper. She
-came in with M. de Chalais, an amiable old man, who had been so kind as
-to accompany her. She greeted us severally, and nodded to Coquelin. She
-talked, I remember, with great volubility, relating what she had seen
-and done in her absence, and laughing with extraordinary freedom. As we
-left the table, she took my hand, and I put out the other and took
-Coquelin's.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Has the Chevalier been a good boy?" she asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Perfect," said Coquelin; "but he has wanted his aunt sadly."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not at all," said I, resenting the imputation as derogatory to my
-independence.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You have had a pleasant week, mademoiselle?" said Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"A charming week. And you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. Coquelin has been very unhappy," said I. "He thought of going away."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah?" said my aunt.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin was silent.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You think of going away?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I merely spoke of it, mademoiselle. I must go away some time, you know.
-The Chevalier looks upon me as something eternal."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What's eternal?" asked the Chevalier.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"There is nothing eternal, my child," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "Nothing
-lasts more than a moment."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O," said Coquelin, "I don't agree with you!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You don't believe that in this world everything is vain and fleeting
-and transitory?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"By no means; I believe in the permanence of many things."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Of what, for instance?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, of sentiments and passions."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Very likely. But not of the hearts that hold them. 'Lovers die, but
-love survives.' I heard a gentleman say that at Chalais."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's better, at least, than if he had put it the other way. But lovers
-last too. They survive; they outlive the things that would fain destroy
-them,&mdash;indifference, denial, and despair."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But meanwhile the loved object disappears. When it isn't one, it's the
-other."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O, I admit that it's a shifting world. But I have a philosophy for
-that."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I'm curious to know your philosophy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's a very old one. It's simply to make the most of life while it
-lasts. I'm very fond of life," said Coquelin, laughing.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I should say that as yet, from what I know of your history, you have
-had no great reason to be."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nay, it's like a cruel mistress," said Coquelin. "When once you love
-her, she's absolute. Her hard usage doesn't affect you. And certainly I
-have nothing to complain of now."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You're happy here then?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Profoundly, mademoiselle, in spite of the Chevalier."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I should suppose that with your tastes you would prefer something more
-active, more ardent."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, my tastes are very simple. And then&mdash;happiness,
-<i>cela ne se raisonne pas.</i> You don't find it when you go in quest of
-it. It's like fortune; it comes to you in your sleep."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I imagine," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "that I was never happy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That's a sad story," said Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The young girl began to laugh. "And never unhappy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Dear me, that's still worse. Never fear, it will come."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What will come?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"That which is both bliss and misery at once."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac hesitated a moment. "And what is this strange thing?"
-she asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On his side Coquelin was silent. "When it comes to you," he said, at
-last, "you'll tell me what you call it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-About a week after this, at breakfast, in pursuance of an urgent request
-of mine, Coquelin proposed to my father to allow him to take me to visit
-the ruins of an ancient feudal castle some four leagues distant, which
-he had observed and explored while he trudged across the country on his
-way to Bergerac, and which, indeed, although the taste for ruins was at
-that time by no means so general as since the Revolution (when one may
-say it was in a measure created), enjoyed a certain notoriety throughout
-the province. My father good-naturedly consented; and as the distance
-was too great to be achieved on foot, he placed his two old coach-horses
-at our service. You know that although I affected, in boyish sort, to
-have been indifferent to my aunt's absence, I was really very fond of
-her, and it occurred to me that our excursion would be more solemn and
-splendid for her taking part in it. So I appealed to my father and asked
-if Mlle. de Bergerac might be allowed to go with us. What the Baron
-would have decided had he been left to himself I know not; but happily
-for our cause my mother cried out that, to her mind, it was highly
-improper that her sister-in-law should travel twenty miles alone with
-two young men.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"One of your young men is a child," said my father, "and her nephew into
-the bargain; and the other,"&mdash;and he laughed, coarsely but not
-ill-humoredly,&mdash;"the other is&mdash;Coquelin!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Coquelin is not a child nor is mademoiselle either," said my mother.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All the more reason for their going, Gabrielle, will you go?" My
-father, I fear, was not remarkable in general for his tenderness or his
-<i>prévenance</i> for the poor girl whom fortune had given him to protect;
-but from time to time he would wake up to a downright sense of kinship
-and duty, kindled by the pardonable aggressions of my mother, between
-whom and her sister-in-law there existed a singular antagonism of
-temper.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac looked at my father intently and with a little blush.
-"Yes, brother. I'll go. The Chevalier can take me <i>en croupe.</i>"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-So we started, Coquelin on one horse, and I on the other, with my aunt
-mounted behind me. Our sport for the first part of the journey consisted
-chiefly in my urging my beast into a somewhat ponderous gallop, so as to
-terrify my aunt, who was not very sure of her seat, and who, at moments,
-between pleading and laughing, had hard work to preserve her balance. At
-these times Coquelin would ride close alongside of us, at the same
-cumbersome pace, declaring himself ready to catch the young girl if she
-fell. In this way we jolted along, in a cloud of dust, with shouts and
-laughter.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Madame the Baronne was wrong," said Coquelin, "in denying that we are
-children."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O, this is nothing yet," cried my aunt.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The castle of Fossy lifted its dark and crumbling towers with a decided
-air of feudal arrogance from the summit of a gentle eminence in the
-recess of a shallow gorge among the hills. Exactly when it had
-flourished and when it had decayed I knew not, but in the year of grace
-of our pilgrimage it was a truly venerable, almost a formidable, ruin.
-Two great towers were standing,&mdash;one of them diminished by half its
-upper elevation, and the other sadly scathed and shattered, but still
-exposing its hoary head to the weather, and offering the sullen
-hospitality of its empty skull to a colony of swallows. I shall never
-forget that day at Fossy; it was one of those long raptures of childhood
-which seem to imprint upon the mind an ineffaceable stain of light. The
-novelty and mystery of the dilapidated fortress,&mdash;its antiquity, its
-intricacy, its sounding vaults and corridors, its inaccessible heights
-and impenetrable depths, the broad sunny glare of its grass-grown courts
-and yards, the twilight of its passages and midnight of its dungeons,
-and along with all this my freedom to rove and scramble, my perpetual
-curiosity, my lusty absorption of the sun-warmed air, and the contagion
-of my companions' careless and sensuous mirth,&mdash;all these things
-combined to make our excursion one of the memorable events of my youth.
-My two companions accepted the situation and drank in the beauty of the
-day and the richness of the spot with all my own reckless freedom.
-Coquelin was half mad with the joy of spending a whole unbroken summer's
-day with the woman whom he secretly loved. He was all motion and humor
-and resonant laughter; and yet intermingled with his random gayety there
-lurked a solemn sweetness and reticence, a feverish concentration of
-thought, which to a woman with a woman's senses must have fairly
-betrayed his passion. Mlle. de Bergerac, without quite putting aside her
-natural dignity and gravity of mien, lent herself with a charming
-girlish energy to the undisciplined spirit of the hour.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Our first thoughts, after Coquelin had turned the horses to pasture in
-one of the grassy courts of the castle, were naturally bestowed upon our
-little basket of provisions; and our first act was to sit down on a heap
-of fallen masonry and divide its contents. After that we wandered. We
-climbed the still practicable staircases, and wedged ourselves into the
-turrets and strolled through the chambers and halls; we started from
-their long repose every echo and bat and owl within the innumerable
-walls.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Finally, after we had rambled a couple of hours, Mlle. de Bergerac
-betrayed signs of fatigue. Coquelin went with her in search of a place
-of rest, and I was left to my own devices. For an hour I found plenty of
-diversion, at the end of which I returned to my friends. I had some
-difficulty in finding them. They had mounted by an imperfect and
-somewhat perilous ascent to one of the upper platforms of the castle.
-Mlle. de Bergerac was sitting in a listless posture on a block of stone,
-against the wall, in the shadow of the still surviving tower; opposite,
-in the light, half leaning, half sitting on the parapet of the terrace,
-was her companion.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"For the last half-hour, mademoiselle," said Coquelin, as I came up,
-"you've not spoken a word."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All the morning," said Mlle. de Bergerac, "I've been scrambling and
-chattering and laughing. Now, by reaction, I'm <i>triste.</i>"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I protest, so am I," said Coquelin. "The truth is, this old feudal
-fortress is a decidedly melancholy spot. It's haunted with the ghost of
-the past. It smells of tragedies, sorrows, and cruelties." He uttered
-these words with singular emphasis. "It's a horrible place," he pursued,
-with a shudder.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac began to laugh. "It's odd that we should only just now
-have discovered it!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, it's like the history of that abominable past of which it's a
-relic. At the first glance we see nothing but the great proportions, the
-show, and the splendor; but when we come to explore, we detect a vast
-underground world of iniquity and suffering. Only half this castle is
-above the soil; the rest is dungeons and vaults and <i>oubliettes.</i>"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nevertheless," said the young girl, "I should have liked to live in
-those old days. Shouldn't you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Verily, no, mademoiselle!" And then after a pause, with a certain
-irrepressible bitterness: "Life is hard enough now."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac stared but said nothing.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"In those good old days," Coquelin resumed, "I should have been a
-brutal, senseless peasant, yoked down like an ox, with my forehead in
-the soil. Or else I should have been a trembling, groaning, fasting
-monk, moaning my soul away in the ecstasies of faith."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac rose and came to the edge of the platform. "Was no
-other career open in those days?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To such a one as me,&mdash;no. As I say, mademoiselle, life is hard now,
-but it was a mere dead weight then. I know it was. I feel in my bones and
-pulses that awful burden of despair under which my wretched ancestors
-struggled. <i>Tenez</i>, I'm the great man of the race. My father came
-next; he was one of four brothers, who all thought it a prodigious rise in
-the world when he became a village tailor. If we had lived five hundred
-years ago, in the shadow of these great towers, we should never have
-risen at all. We should have stuck with our feet in the clay. As I'm not
-a fighting man, I suppose I should have gone into the Church. If I
-hadn't died from an overdose of inanition, very likely I might have
-lived to be a cardinal."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac leaned against the parapet, and with a meditative
-droop of the head looked down the little glen toward the plain and the
-highway. "For myself," she said, "I can imagine very charming things of
-life in this castle of Fossy."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"For yourself, very likely."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Fancy the great moat below filled with water and sheeted with lilies,
-and the drawbridge lowered, and a company of knights riding into the
-gates. Within, in one of those vaulted, quaintly timbered rooms, the
-châtelaine stands ready to receive them, with her women, her chaplain,
-her physician, and her little page. They come clanking up the staircase,
-with ringing swords, sweeping the ground with their plumes. They are all
-brave and splendid and fierce, but one of them far more than the rest.
-They each bend a knee to the lady&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But he bends two," cried Coquelin. "They wander apart into one of those
-deep embrasures and spin the threads of perfect love. Ah, I could fancy
-a sweet life, in those days, mademoiselle, if I could only fancy myself
-a knight!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And you can't," said the young girl, gravely, looking at him.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's an idle game; it's not worth trying."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Apparently then, you're a cynic; you have an equally small opinion of
-the past and the present."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No; you do me injustice."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But you say that life is hard."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I speak not for myself, but for others; for my brothers and sisters and
-kinsmen in all degrees; for the great mass of petits gens of my own
-class."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Dear me, M. Coquelin, while you're about it, you can speak for others
-still; for poor portionless girls, for instance."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Are they very much to be pitied?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac was silent. "After all," she resumed, "they oughtn't
-to complain."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not when they have a great name and beauty," said Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O heaven!" said the young girl, impatiently, and turned away.
-Coquelin stood watching her, his brow contracted, his lips parted.
-Presently, she came back. "Perhaps you think," she said, "that I care
-for my name,&mdash;my great name, as you call it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Assuredly, I do."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-She stood looking at him, blushing a little and frowning. As he said
-these words, she gave an impatient toss of the head and turned away
-again. In her hand she carried an ornamented fan, an antiquated and
-sadly dilapidated instrument. She suddenly raised it above her head,
-swung it a moment, and threw it far across the parapet. "There goes the
-name of Bergerac!" she said; and sweeping round, made the young man a
-very low courtesy.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There was in the whole action a certain passionate freedom which set
-poor Coquelin's heart a-throbbing. "To have a good name, mademoiselle,"
-he said, "and to be indifferent to it, is the sign of a noble mind." (In
-parenthesis, I may say that I think he was quite wrong.)
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's quite as noble, monsieur," returned my aunt, "to have a small name
-and not to blush for it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-With these words I fancy they felt as if they had said enough; the
-conversation was growing rather too pointed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I think," said my aunt, "that we had better prepare to go." And she
-cast a farewell glance at the broad expanse of country which lay
-stretched out beneath us, striped with the long afternoon shadows.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin followed the direction of her eyes. "I wish very much," he
-said, "that before we go we might be able to make our way up into the
-summit of the great tower. It would be worth the attempt. The view from
-here, charming as it is, must be only a fragment of what you see from
-that topmost platform."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's not likely," said my aunt, "that the staircase is still in a state
-to be used."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Possibly not; but we can see."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nay," insisted my aunt, "I'm afraid to trust the Chevalier. There are
-great breaches in the sides of the ascent, which are so many open doors
-to destruction."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I strongly opposed this view of the case; but Coquelin, after scanning
-the elevation of the tower and such of the fissures as were visible from
-our standpoint, declared that my aunt was right and that it was my duty
-to comply. "And you, too, mademoiselle," he said, "had better not try
-it, unless you pride yourself on your strong head."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, indeed, I have a particularly weak one. And you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I confess I'm very curious to see the view. I always want to read to
-the end of a book, to walk to the turn of a road, and to climb to the
-top of a building."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good," said Mlle. de Bergerac. "We'll wait for you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Although in a straight line from the spot which we occupied, the
-distance through the air to the rugged sides of the great cylinder of
-masonry which frowned above us was not more than thirty yards, Coquelin
-was obliged, in order to strike at the nearest accessible point the
-winding staircase which clung to its massive ribs, to retrace his steps
-through the interior of the castle and make a <i>détour</i> of some five
-minutes' duration. In ten minutes more he showed himself at an aperture
-in the wall, facing our terrace.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"How do you prosper?" cried my aunt, raising her voice.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I've mounted eighty steps," he shouted; "I've a hundred more."
-Presently he appeared again at another opening. "The steps have
-stopped," he cried.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You've only to stop too," rejoined Mlle. de Bergerac. Again he was lost
-to sight and we supposed he was returning. A quarter of an hour elapsed,
-and we began to wonder at his not having overtaken us, when we heard a
-loud call high above our heads. There he stood, on the summit of the
-edifice, waving his hat. At this point he was so far above us that it
-was difficult to communicate by sounds, in spite of our curiosity to
-know how, in the absence of a staircase, he had effected the rest of the
-ascent. He began to represent, by gestures of pretended rapture, the
-immensity and beauty of the prospect. Finally Mlle. de Bergerac beckoned
-to him to descend, and pointed to the declining sun, informing him at
-the same time that we would go down and meet him in the lower part of
-the castle. We left the terrace accordingly, and, making the best of our
-way through the intricate passages of the edifice, at last, not without
-a feeling of relief, found ourselves on the level earth. We waited quite
-half an hour without seeing anything of our companion. My aunt, I could
-see, had become anxious, although she endeavored to appear at her ease.
-As the time elapsed, however, it became so evident that Coquelin had
-encountered some serious obstacle to his descent, that Mlle. de Bergerac
-proposed we should, in so far as was possible, betake ourselves to his
-assistance. The point was to approach him within speaking distance.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We entered the body of the castle again, climbed to one of the upper
-levels, and reached a spot where an extensive destruction of the
-external wall partially exposed the great tower. As we approached this
-crumbling breach, Mlle. de Bergerac drew back from its brink with a loud
-cry of horror. It was not long before I discerned the cause of her
-movement. The side of the tower visible from where we stood presented a
-vast yawning fissure, which explained the interruption of the staircase,
-the latter having fallen for want of support. The central column, to
-which the steps had been fastened, seemed, nevertheless, still to be
-erect, and to have formed, with the agglomeration of fallen fragments
-and various occasional projections of masonry, the means by which
-Coquelin, with extraordinary courage and skill, had reached the topmost
-platform. The ascent, then, had been possible; the descent, curiously
-enough, he seemed to have found another matter; and after striving in
-vain to retrace his footsteps, had been obliged to commit himself to the
-dangerous experiment of passing from the tower to the external surface
-of the main fortress. He had accomplished half his journey and now stood
-directly over against us in a posture which caused my young limbs to
-stiffen with dismay. The point to which he had directed himself was
-apparently the breach at which we stood; meanwhile he had paused,
-clinging in mid-air to heaven knows what narrow ledge or flimsy iron
-clump in the stone-work, and straining his nerves to an agonized tension
-in the effort not to fall, while his eyes vaguely wandered in quest of
-another footing. The wall of the castle was so immensely thick, that
-wherever he could embrace its entire section, progress was comparatively
-easy; the more especially as, above our heads, this same wall had been
-demolished in such a way as to maintain a rapid upward inclination to
-the point where it communicated with the tower.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I stood staring at Coquelin with my heart in my throat, forgetting (or
-rather too young to reflect) that the sudden shock of seeing me where I
-was might prove fatal to his equipoise. He perceived me, however, and
-tried to smile. "Don't be afraid," he cried, "I'll be with you in a
-moment." My aunt, who had fallen back, returned to the aperture, and
-gazed at him with pale cheeks and clasped hands. He made a long step
-forward, successfully, and, as he recovered himself, caught sight of her
-face and looked at her with fearful intentness. Then seeing, I suppose,
-that she was sickened by his insecurity, he disengaged one hand and
-motioned her back. She retreated, paced in a single moment the length of
-the enclosure in which we stood, returned and stopped just short of the
-point at which she would have seen him again. She buried her face in her
-hands, like one muttering a rapid prayer, and then advanced once more
-within range of her friend's vision. As she looked at him, clinging in
-mid-air and planting step after step on the jagged and treacherous edge
-of the immense perpendicular chasm, she repressed another loud cry only
-by thrusting her handkerchief into her mouth. He caught her eyes again,
-gazed into them with piercing keenness, as if to drink in coolness and
-confidence, and then, as she closed them again in horror, motioned me
-with his head to lead her away. She returned to the farther end of the
-apartment and leaned her head against the wall. I remained staring at
-poor Coquelin, fascinated by the spectacle of his mingled danger and
-courage. Inch by inch, yard by yard, I saw him lessen the interval which
-threatened his life. It was a horrible, beautiful sight. Some five
-minutes elapsed; they seemed like fifty. The last few yards he
-accomplished with a rush; he reached the window which was the goal of
-his efforts, swung himself in and let himself down by a prodigious leap
-to the level on which we stood. Here he stopped, pale, lacerated, and
-drenched with perspiration. He put out his hand to Mlle. de Bergerac,
-who, at the sound of his steps, had turned herself about. On seeing him
-she made a few steps forward and burst into tears. I took his extended
-hand. He bent over me and kissed me, and then giving me a push, "Go and
-kiss your poor aunt," he said. Mlle. de Bergerac clasped me to her
-breast with a most convulsive pressure. From that moment till we reached
-home, there was very little said. Both my companions had matter for
-silent reflection,&mdash;Mlle. de Bergerac in the deep significance of that
-offered hand, and Coquelin in the rich avowal of her tears.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h4>
-
-<p>
-A week after this memorable visit to Fossy, in emulation of my good
-preceptor, I treated my friends, or myself at least, to a five minutes'
-fright. Wandering beside the river one day when Coquelin had been
-detained within doors to overlook some accounts for my father, I amused
-myself, where the bank projected slightly over the stream, with kicking
-the earth away in fragments, and watching it borne down the current. The
-result may be anticipated: I came very near going the way of those same
-fragments. I lost my foothold and fell into the stream, which, however,
-was so shallow as to offer no great obstacle to self-preservation. I
-scrambled ashore, wet to the bone, and, feeling rather ashamed of my
-misadventure, skulked about in the fields for a couple of hours, in my
-dripping clothes. Finally, there being no sun and my garments remaining
-inexorably damp, my teeth began to chatter and my limbs to ache. I went
-home and surrendered myself. Here again the result may be foreseen: the
-next day I was laid up with a high fever.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac, as I afterwards learned, immediately appointed
-herself my nurse, removed me from my little sleeping-closet to her own
-room, and watched me with the most tender care. My illness lasted some
-ten days, my convalescence a week. When I began to mend, my bed was
-transferred to an unoccupied room adjoining my aunt's. Here, late one
-afternoon, I lay languidly singing to myself and watching the western
-sunbeams shimmering on the opposite wall. If you were ever ill as a
-child, you will remember such moments. You look by the hour at your
-thin, white hands; you listen to the sounds in the house, the opening of
-doors and the tread of feet; you murmur strange odds and ends of talk;
-and you watch the fading of the day and the dark flowering of the night.
-Presently my aunt came in, introducing Coquelin, whom she left by my
-bedside. He sat with me a long time, talking in the old, kind way, and
-gradually lulled me to sleep with the gentle murmur of his voice. When I
-awoke again it was night. The sun was quenched on the opposite wall, but
-through a window on the same side came a broad ray of moonlight. In the
-window sat Coquelin, who had apparently not left the room. Near him was
-Mlle. de Bergerac.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Some time elapsed between my becoming conscious of their presence and my
-distinguishing the sense of the words that were passing between them.
-When I did so, if I had reached the age when one ponders and interprets
-what one hears, I should readily have perceived that since those last
-thrilling moments at Fossy their friendship had taken a very long step,
-and that the secret of each heart had changed place with its mate. But
-even now there was little that was careless and joyous in their young
-love; the first words of Mlle. Bergerac that I distinguished betrayed
-the sombre tinge of their passion.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I don't care what happens now," she said. "It will always be something
-to have lived through these days."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You're stronger than I, then," said Coquelin. "I haven't the courage to
-defy the future. I'm afraid to think of it. Ah, why can't we make a
-future of our own?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It would be a greater happiness than we have a right to. Who are you,
-Pierre Coquelin, that you should claim the right to marry the girl you
-love, when she's a demoiselle de Bergerac to begin with? And who am I,
-that I should expect to have deserved a greater blessing than that one
-look of your eyes, which I shall never, never forget? It is more than
-enough to watch you and pray for you and worship you in silence."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What am I? what are you? We are two honest mortals, who have a perfect
-right to repudiate the blessings of God. If ever a passion deserved its
-reward, mademoiselle, it's the absolute love I bear you. It's not a
-spasm, a miracle, or a delusion; it's the most natural emotion of my
-nature."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"We don't live in a natural world, Coquelin. If we did, there would be
-no need of concealing this divine affection. Great heaven! who's
-natural? Is it my sister-in-law? Is it M. de Treuil? Is it my brother?
-My brother is sometimes so natural that he's brutal. Is it I myself?
-There are moments when I'm afraid of my nature."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It was too dark for me to distinguish my companions' faces in the course
-of this singular dialogue; but it's not hard to imagine how, as my aunt
-uttered these words, with a burst of sombre <i>naïveté</i>, her lover must
-have turned upon her face the puzzled brightness of his eyes.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What do you mean?" he asked.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Mon Dieu!</i> think how I have lived! What a senseless, thoughtless,
-passionless life! What solitude, ignorance, and languor! What trivial
-duties and petty joys! I have fancied myself happy at times, for it was
-God's mercy that I didn't know what I lacked. But now that my soul
-begins to stir and throb and live, it shakes me with its mighty
-pulsations. I feel as if in the mere wantonness of strength and joy it
-might drive me to some extravagance. I seem to feel myself making a
-great rush, with my eyes closed and my heart in my throat And then the
-earth sinks away from under my feet, and in my ears is the sound of a
-dreadful tumult."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Evidently we have very different ways of feeling. For you our love is
-action, passion; for me it's rest. For you it's romance; for me it's
-reality. For me it's a necessity; for you (how shall I say it?) it's a
-luxury. In point of fact, mademoiselle, how should it be otherwise? When
-a demoiselle de Bergerac bestows her heart upon an obscure adventurer, a
-man born in poverty and servitude, it's a matter of charity, of noble
-generosity."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac received this speech in silence, and for some moments
-nothing was said. At last she resumed: "After all that has passed
-between us, Coquelin, it seems to me a matter neither of generosity nor
-of charity to allude again to that miserable fact of my birth."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I was only trying to carry out your own idea, and to get at the truth
-with regard to our situation. If our love is worth a straw, we needn't
-be afraid of that. Isn't it true&mdash;blessedly true, perhaps, for all I
-know&mdash;that you shrink a little from taking me as I am? Except for my
-character, I'm so little! It's impossible to be less of a <i>personage.</i>
-You can't quite reconcile it to your dignity to love a nobody, so you
-fling over your weakness a veil of mystery and romance and exaltation.
-You regard your passion, perhaps, as more of an escapade, an adventure,
-than it needs to be."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My 'nobody,'" said Mlle. de Bergerac, gently, "is a very wise man, and
-a great philosopher. I don't understand a word you say."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah, so much the better!" said Coquelin with a little laugh.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Will you promise me," pursued the young girl, "never again by word or
-deed to allude to the difference of our birth? If you refuse, I shall
-consider you an excellent pedagogue, but no lover."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Will you in return promise me&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Promise you what?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin was standing before her, looking at her, with folded arms.
-"Promise me likewise to forget it!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac stared a moment, and also rose to her feet. "Forget
-it! Is this generous?" she cried. "Is it delicate? I had pretty well
-forgot it, I think, on that dreadful day at Fossy!" Her voice trembled
-and swelled; she burst into tears. Coquelin attempted to remonstrate,
-but she motioned him aside, and swept out of the room.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-It must have been a very genuine passion between these two, you'll
-observe, to allow this handling without gloves. Only a plant of hardy
-growth could have endured this chilling blast of discord and
-disputation. Ultimately, indeed, its effect seemed to have been to
-fortify and consecrate their love. This was apparent several days later;
-but I know not what manner of communication they had had in the
-interval. I was much better, but I was still weak and languid. Mlle. de
-Bergerac brought me my breakfast in bed, and then, having helped me to
-rise and dress, led me out into the garden, where she had caused a chair
-to be placed in the shade. While I sat watching the bees and
-butterflies, and pulling the flowers to pieces, she strolled up and down
-the alley close at hand, taking slow stitches in a piece of embroidery.
-We had been so occupied about ten minutes, when Coquelin came towards us
-from his lodge,&mdash;by appointment, evidently, for this was a roundabout
-way to the house. Mlle. de Bergerac met him at the end of the path,
-where I could not hear what they said, but only see their gestures. As
-they came along together, she raised both hands to her ears, and shook
-her head with vehemence, as if to refuse to listen to what he was
-urging. When they drew near my resting-place, she had interrupted him.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, no, no!" she cried, "I will never forget it to my dying day. How
-should I? How can I look at you without remembering it? It's in your
-face, your figure, your movements, the tones of your voice. It's
-you,&mdash;it's what I love in you! It was that which went through my heart
-that day at Fossy. It was the look, the tone, with which you called the
-place horrible; it was your bitter plebeian hate. When you spoke of the
-misery and baseness of your race, I could have cried out in an anguish
-of love! When I contradicted you, and pretended that I prized and
-honored all these tokens of your servitude,&mdash;just heaven! you know now
-what my words were worth!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin walked beside her with his hands clasped behind him, and his
-eyes fixed on the ground with a look of repressed sensibility. He passed
-his poor little convalescent pupil without heeding him. When they came
-down the path again, the young girl was still talking with the same
-feverish volubility.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But most of all, the first day, the first hour, when you came up the
-avenue to my brother! I had never seen any one like you. I had seen
-others, but you had something that went to my soul. I devoured you with
-my eyes,&mdash;your dusty clothes, your uncombed hair, your pale face, the
-way you held yourself not to seem tired. I went down on my knees, then;
-I haven't been up since."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The poor girl, you see, was completely possessed by her passion, and yet
-she was in a very strait place. For her life she wouldn't recede; and
-yet how was she to advance? There must have been an odd sort of
-simplicity in her way of bestowing her love; or perhaps you'll think it
-an odd sort of subtlety. It seems plain to me now, as I tell the story,
-that Coquelin, with his perfect good sense, was right, and that there
-was, at this moment, a large element of romance in the composition of
-her feelings. She seemed to feel no desire to realize her passion. Her
-hand was already bestowed; fate was inexorable. She wished simply to
-compress a world of bliss into her few remaining hours of freedom.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The day after this interview in the garden I came down to dinner; on the
-next I sat up to supper, and for some time afterwards, thanks to my
-aunt's preoccupation of mind. On rising from the table, my father left
-the château; my mother, who was ailing, returned to her room. Coquelin
-disappeared, under pretence of going to his own apartments; but, Mlle.
-de Bergerac having taken me into the drawing-room and detained me there
-some minutes, he shortly rejoined us.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Great heaven, mademoiselle, this must end!" he cried, as he came into
-the room. "I can stand it no longer."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Nor can I," said my aunt. "But I have given my word."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Take back your word, then! Write him a letter&mdash;go to
-him&mdash;send me to him&mdash;anything! I can't stay here on the
-footing of a thief and impostor. I'll do anything," he continued, as she
-was silent. "I'll go to him in person; I'll go to your brother; I'll go
-to your sister even. I'll proclaim it to the world. Or, if you don't
-like that. I'll keep it a mortal secret. I'll leave the château with
-you without an hour's delay. I'll defy pursuit and discovery. We'll go
-to America,&mdash;anywhere you wish, if it's only action. Only spare me
-the agony of seeing you drift along into that man's arms."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac made no reply for some moments. At last, "I will never
-marry M. de Treuil," she said.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-To this declaration Coquelin made no response; but after a pause, "Well,
-well, well?" he cried.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah, you're pitiless!" said the young girl.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, mademoiselle, from the bottom of my heart I pity you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, then, think of all you ask! Think of the inexpiable criminality
-of my love. Think of me standing here,&mdash;here before my mother's
-portrait,&mdash;murmuring out my shame, scorched by my sister's scorn,
-buffeted by my brother's curses! Gracious heaven, Coquelin, suppose
-after all I were a bad, hard girl!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I'll suppose nothing; this is no time for hair-splitting." And then,
-after a pause, as if with a violent effort, in a voice hoarse and yet
-soft: "Gabrielle, passion is blind. Reason alone is worth a straw. I'll
-not counsel you in passion, let us wait till reason comes to us." He put
-out his hand; she gave him her own; he pressed it to his lips and
-departed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-On the following day, as I still professed myself too weak to resume my
-books, Coquelin left the château alone, after breakfast, for a long
-walk. He was going, I suppose, into the woods and meadows in quest of
-Reason. She was hard to find, apparently, for he failed to return to
-dinner. He reappeared, however, at supper, but now my father was absent.
-My mother, as she left the table, expressed the wish that Mlle. de
-Bergerac should attend her to her own room. Coquelin, meanwhile, went
-with me into the great saloon, and for half an hour talked to me gravely
-and kindly about my studies, and questioned me on what we had learned
-before my illness. At the end of this time Mlle. de Bergerac returned.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I got this letter to-day from M. de Treuil," she said, and offered him
-a missive which had apparently been handed to her since dinner.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I don't care to read it," he said.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-She tore it across and held the pieces to the flame of the candle. "He
-is to be here to-morrow," she added finally.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well?" asked Coquelin gravely.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You know my answer."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your answer to him, perfectly. But what is your answer to me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-She looked at him in silence. They stood for a minute, their eyes locked
-together. And then, in the same posture,&mdash;her arms loose at her sides,
-her head slightly thrown back,&mdash;"To you," she said, "my answer
-is&mdash;farewell."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The word was little more than whispered; but, though he heard it, he
-neither started nor spoke. He stood unmoved, all his soul trembling
-under his brows and filling the space between his mistress and himself
-with a sort of sacred stillness. Then, gradually, his head sank on his
-breast, and his eyes dropped on the ground.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's reason," the young girl began. "Reason has come to me. She tells
-me that if I marry in my brother's despite, and in opposition to all the
-traditions that have been kept sacred in my family, I shall neither find
-happiness nor give it. I must choose the simplest course. The other is a
-gulf; I can't leap it. It's harder than you think. Something in the air
-forbids it,&mdash;something in the very look of these old walls, within
-which I was born and I've lived. I shall never marry; I shall go into
-religion. I tried to fling away my name; it was sowing dragons' teeth. I
-don't ask you to forgive me. It's small enough comfort that you should
-have the right to think of me as a poor, weak heart. Keep repeating
-that: it will console you. I shall not have the compensation of doubting
-the perfection of what I love."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin turned away in silence. Mlle. de Bergerac sprang after him.
-"In Heaven's name," she cried, "say something! Rave, storm, swear, but
-don't let me think I've broken your heart."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My heart's sound," said Coquelin, almost with a smile. "I regret
-nothing that has happened. O, how I love you!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The young girl buried her face in her hands.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"This end," he went on, "is doubtless the only possible one. It's
-thinking very lightly of life to expect any other. After all, what call
-had I to interrupt your life,&mdash;to burden you with a trouble, a choice,
-a decision? As much as anything that I have ever known in you I admire
-your beautiful delicacy of conscience."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah," said the young girl, with a moan, "don't kill me with fine names!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And then came the farewell. "I feel," said poor Coquelin, "that
-I can't see you again. We must not meet. I will leave Bergerac
-immediately,&mdash;to-night,&mdash;under pretext of having been summoned
-home by my mother's illness. In a few days I will write to your brother
-that circumstances forbid me to return."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My own part in this painful interview I shall not describe at length.
-When it began to dawn upon my mind that my friend was actually going to
-disappear, I was seized with a convulsion of rage and grief. "Ah," cried
-Mlle. de Bergerac bitterly, "that was all that was wanting!" What means
-were taken to restore me to composure, what promises were made me, what
-pious deception was practised, I forget; but, when at last I came to my
-senses, Coquelin had made his exit.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My aunt took me by the hand and prepared to-lead me up to bed, fearing
-naturally that my ruffled aspect and swollen visage would arouse
-suspicion. At this moment I heard the clatter of hoofs in the court,
-mingled with the sound of voices. From the window, I saw M. de Treuil
-and my father alighting from horseback. Mlle. de Bergerac, apparently,
-made the same observation; she dropped my hand and sank down in a chair.
-She was not left long in suspense. Perceiving a light in the saloon, the
-two gentlemen immediately made their way to this apartment. They came in
-together, arm in arm, the Vicomte dressed in mourning. Just within the
-threshold they stopped; my father disengaged his arm, took his companion
-by the hand and led him to Mlle. de Bergerac. She rose to her feet as
-you may imagine a sitting statue to rise. The Vicomte bent his knee.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"At last, mademoiselle," said he,&mdash;"sooner than I had hoped,&mdash;my
-long probation is finished."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The young girl spoke, but no one would have recognized her voice. "I
-fear, M. le Vicomte," she said, "that it has only begun."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Vicomte broke into a harsh, nervous laugh.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Fol de rol, mademoiselle," cried my father, "your pleasantry is in very
-bad taste."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-But the Vicomte had recovered himself. "Mademoiselle is quite right," he
-declared; "she means that I must now begin to deserve my happiness."
-This little speech showed a very brave fancy. It was in flagrant discord
-with the expression of the poor girl's figure, as she stood twisting her
-hands together and rolling her eyes,&mdash;an image of sombre desperation.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father felt there was a storm in the air. "M. le Vicomte is in
-mourning for M. de Sorbières," he said. "M. le Vicomte is his sole
-legatee. He comes to exact the fulfilment of your promise."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I made no promise," said Mlle. de Bergerac.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Excuse me, mademoiselle; you gave your word that you'd wait for me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Gracious heaven!" cried the young girl; "haven't I waited for you!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Ma toute belle</i>" said the Baron, trying to keep his angry voice
-within the compass of an undertone, and reducing it in the effort to a very
-ugly whisper, "if I had supposed you were going to make us a scene, <i>nom
-de Dieu!</i> I would have taken my precautions beforehand! You know what
-you're to expect. Vicomte, keep her to her word. I'll give you half an
-hour. Come, Chevalier." And he took me by the hand.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-We had crossed the threshold and reached the hall, when I heard the
-Vicomte give a long moan, half plaintive, half indignant. My father
-turned, and answered with a fierce, inarticulate cry, which I can best
-describe as a roar. He straightway retraced his steps, I, of course,
-following. Exactly what, in the brief interval, had passed between our
-companions I am unable to say; but it was plain that Mlle. de Bergerac,
-by some cruelly unerring word or act, had discharged the bolt of her
-refusal. Her gallant lover had sunk into a chair, burying his face in
-his hands, and stamping his feet on the floor in a frenzy of
-disappointment. She stood regarding him in a sort of helpless, distant
-pity. My father had been going to break out into a storm of
-imprecations; but he suppressed them, and folded his arms.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And now, mademoiselle," he said, "will you be so good as to inform me
-of your intentions?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Beneath my father's gaze the softness passed out of my aunt's face and
-gave place to an angry defiance, which he must have recognized as
-cousin-german, at least, to the passion in his own breast. "My
-intentions had been," she said, "to let M. le Vicomte know that I
-couldn't marry him, with as little offence as possible. But you seem
-determined, my brother, to thrust in a world of offence somewhere."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-You must not blame Mlle. de Bergerac for the sting of her retort. She
-foresaw a hard fight; she had only sprung to her arms.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father looked at the wretched Vicomte, as he sat sobbing and stamping
-like a child His bosom was wrung with pity for his friend "Look at that
-dear Gaston, that charming man, and blush for your audacity."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I know a great deal more about my audacity than you, brother. I might
-tell you things that would surprise you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Gabrielle, you are mad!" the Baron broke out.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Perhaps I am," said the young girl. And then, turning to M. de Treuil,
-in a tone of exquisite reproach, "M. le Vicomte, you suffer less well
-than I had hoped."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father could endure no more. He seized his sister by her two wrists,
-so that beneath the pressure her eyes filled with tears. "Heartless
-fool!" he cried, "do you know what I can do to you?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I can imagine, from this specimen," said the poor creature.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Baron was beside himself with passion. "Down, down on your knees,"
-he went on, "and beg our pardon all round for your senseless, shameless
-perversity!" As he spoke, he increased the pressure of his grasp to that
-degree that, after a vain struggle to free herself, she uttered a scream
-of pain. The Vicomte sprang to his feet. "In heaven's name, Gabrielle,"
-he cried,&mdash;and it was the only real <i>naïveté</i> that he had ever
-uttered,&mdash;"isn't it all a horrible jest?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac shook her head. "It seems hard. Vicomte," she said,
-"that I should be answerable for your happiness."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You hold it there in your hand. Think of what I suffer. To have lived
-for weeks in the hope of this hour, and to find it what you would fain
-make it! To have dreamed of rapturous bliss, and to wake to find it
-hideous misery! Think of it once again!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"She shall have a chance to think of it," the Baron declared; "she shall
-think of it quite at her ease. Go to your room, mademoiselle, and remain
-there till further notice."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Gabrielle prepared to go, but, as she moved away, "I used to fear you,
-brother," she said with homely scorn, "but I don't fear you now. Judge
-whether it's because I love you more!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Gabrielle," the Vicomte cried out, "I haven't given you up."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Your feelings are your own, M. le Vicomte. I would have given more than
-I can say rather than have caused you to suffer. Your asking my hand has
-been the great honor of my life; my withholding it has been the great
-trial." And she walked out of the room with the step of unacted tragedy.
-My father, with an oath, despatched me to bed in her train. Heavy-headed
-with the recent spectacle of so much half-apprehended emotion, I
-speedily fell asleep.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I was aroused by the sound of voices, and the grasp of a heavy hand on
-my shoulder. My father stood before me, holding a candle, with M. de
-Treuil beside him. "Chevalier," he said, "open your eyes like a man, and
-come to your senses."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Thus exhorted, I sat up and stared. The Baron sat down on the edge of
-the bed. "This evening," he began, "before the Vicomte and I came in, were
-you alone with your aunt?"&mdash;My dear friend, you see the scene from
-here. I answered with the cruel directness of my years. Even if I had
-had the wit to dissemble, I should have lacked the courage. Of course I
-had no story to tell. I had drawn no inferences; I didn't say that my
-tutor was my aunt's lover. I simply said that he had been with us after
-supper, and that he wanted my aunt to go away with him. Such was my part
-in the play. I see the whole picture again,&mdash;my father brandishing the
-candlestick, and devouring my words with his great flaming eyes; and the
-Vicomte behind, portentously silent, with his black clothes and his pale
-face.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-They had not been three minutes out of the room when the door leading to
-my aunt's chamber opened and Mlle. de Bergerac appeared. She had heard
-sounds in my apartment, and suspected the visit of the gentlemen and its
-motive. She immediately won from me the recital of what I had been
-forced to avow. "Poor Chevalier," she cried, for all commentary. And
-then, after a pause, "What made them suspect that M. Coquelin had been
-with us?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"They saw him, or some one, leave the château as they came in."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And where have they gone now?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To supper. My father said to M. de Treuil that first of all they must
-sup."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac stood a moment in meditation. Then suddenly, "Get up,
-Chevalier," she said, "I want you to go with me."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Where are you going?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To M. Coquelin's."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-I needed no second admonition. I hustled on my clothes; Mlle. de
-Bergerac left the room and immediately returned, clad in a light mantle.
-We made our way undiscovered to one of the private entrances of the
-château, hurried across the park and found a light in the window of
-Coquelin's lodge. It was about half past nine. Mlle. de Bergerac gave a
-loud knock at the door, and we entered her lover's apartment.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin was seated at his table writing. He sprang to his feet with a
-cry of amazement. Mlle. de Bergerac stood panting, with one hand pressed
-to her heart, while rapidly moving the other as if to enjoin calmness.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"They are come back," she began,&mdash;"M. de Treuil and my brother!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I thought he was to come to-morrow. Was it a deception?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah, no! not from him,&mdash;an accident Pierre Coquelin, I've had such a
-scene! But it's not your fault."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"What made the scene?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"My refusal, of course."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You turned off the Vicomte?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Holy Virgin! You ask me?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Unhappy girl!" cried Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"No, I was a happy girl to have had a chance to act as my heart bade me.
-I had faltered enough. But it was hard!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's all hard."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The hardest is to come," said my aunt She put out her hand; he sprang
-to her and seized it, and she pressed his own with vehemence. "They have
-discovered our secret,&mdash;don't ask how. It was Heaven's will. From this
-moment, of course&mdash;"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"From this moment, of course," cried Coquelin, "I stay where I am!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-With an impetuous movement she raised his hand to her lips and kissed
-it. "You stay where you are. We have nothing to conceal, but we have
-nothing to avow. We have no confessions to make. Before God we have done
-our duty. You may expect them, I fancy, to-night; perhaps, too, they
-will honor me with a visit. They are supping between two battles. They
-will attack us with fury, I know; but let them dash themselves against
-our silence as against a wall of stone. I have taken my stand. My love,
-my errors, my longings, are my own affair. My reputation is a sealed
-book. Woe to him who would force it open!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The poor girl had said once, you know, that she was afraid of her
-nature. Assuredly it had now sprung erect in its strength; it came
-hurrying into action on the winds of her indignation. "Remember,
-Coquelin," she went on, "you are still and always my friend. You are the
-guardian of my weakness, the support of my strength."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Say it all, Gabrielle!" he cried. "I'm for ever and ever your lover!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Suddenly, above the music of his voice, there came a great rattling
-knock at the door. Coquelin sprang forward; it opened in his face and
-disclosed my father and M. de Treuil. I have no words in my dictionary,
-no images in my rhetoric, to represent the sudden horror that leaped
-into my father's face as his eye fell upon his sister. He staggered back
-a step and then stood glaring, until his feelings found utterance in a
-single word: "<i>Coureuse!</i>" I have never been able to look upon the
-word as trivial since that moment.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The Vicomte came striding past him into the room, like a bolt of
-lightning from a rumbling cloud, quivering with baffled desire, and
-looking taller by the head for his passion. "And it was for this,
-mademoiselle," he cried, "and for <i>that!</i>" and he flung out a scornful
-hand toward Coquelin. "For a beggarly, boorish, ignorant pedagogue!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin folded his arms. "Address me directly, M. le Vicomte," he said;
-"don't fling mud at me over mademoiselle's head."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"You? Who are you?" hissed the nobleman. "A man doesn't address you;
-he sends his lackeys to flog you!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Well, M. le Vicomte, you're complete," said Coquelin, eyeing him from
-head to foot.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Complete?" and M. de Treuil broke into an almost hysterical laugh. "I
-only lack having married your mistress!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Ah!" cried Mlle. de Bergerac.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O, you poor, insensate fool!" said Coquelin.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Heaven help me," the young man went on, "I'm ready to marry her still."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-While these words were rapidly exchanged, my father stood choking with
-the confusion of amusement and rage. He was stupefied at his sister's
-audacity,&mdash;at the dauntless spirit which ventured to flaunt its
-shameful passion in the very face of honor and authority. Yet that simple
-interjection which I have quoted from my aunt's lips stirred a secret
-tremor in his heart; it was like the striking of some magic silver hell,
-portending monstrous things. His passion faltered, and, as his eyes
-glanced upon my innocent head (which, it must be confessed, was sadly
-out of place in that pernicious scene), alighted on this smaller wrong.
-"The next time you go on your adventures, mademoiselle," he cried, "I'd
-thank you not to pollute my son by dragging him at your skirts."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I'm not sorry to have my family present," said the young girl, who had
-had time to collect her thoughts. "I should be glad even if my sister
-were here. I wish simply to bid you farewell."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Coquelin, at these words, made a step towards her. She passed her hand
-through his arm. "Things have taken place&mdash;and chiefly within the last
-moment&mdash;which change the face of the future. You've done the business,
-brother," and she fixed her glittering eyes on the Baron; "you've driven
-me back on myself. I spared you, but you never spared me. I cared for my
-name; you loaded it with dishonor. I chose between happiness and
-duty,&mdash;duty as you would have laid it down: I preferred duty. But now
-that happiness has become one with simple safety from violence and
-insult, I go back to happiness. I give you back your name; though I have
-kept it more jealously than you. I have another ready for me. O
-Messieurs!" she cried, with a burst of rapturous exaltation, "for what
-you have done to me I thank you."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father began to groan and tremble. He had grasped my hand in his own,
-which was clammy with perspiration. "For the love of God, Gabrielle," he
-implored, "or the fear of the Devil, speak so that a sickened, maddened
-Christian can understand you! For what purpose did you come here
-to-night?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, it's a long story. You made short work with it. I might
-in justice do as much. I came here, brother, to guard my reputation, and
-not to lose it."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-All this while my father had neither looked at Coquelin nor spoken to
-him, either because he thought him not worth his words, or because he
-had kept some transcendent insult in reserve. Here my governor broke in.
-"It seems to me time, M. le Baron, that I should inquire the purpose of
-your own visit."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father stared a moment. "I came, M. Coquelin, to take you by the
-shoulders and eject you through that door, with the further impulsion,
-if necessary, of a vigorous kick."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Good! And M. le Vicomte?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"M. le Vicomte came to see it done."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Perfect! A little more and you had come too late. I was on the point of
-leaving Bergerac. I can put the story into three words. I have been so
-happy as to secure the affections of Mlle. de Bergerac. She asked
-herself, devoutly, what course of action was possible under the
-circumstances. She decided that the only course was that we should
-immediately separate. I had no hesitation in bringing my residence with
-M. le Chevalier to a sudden close. I was to have quitted the château
-early to-morrow morning, leaving mademoiselle at absolute liberty. With
-her refusal of M. de Treuil I have nothing to do. Her action in this
-matter seems to have been strangely precipitated, and my own departure
-anticipated in consequence. It was at her adjuration that I was
-preparing to depart. She came here this evening to command me to stay.
-In our relations there was nothing that the world had a right to lay a
-finger upon. From the moment that they were suspected it was of the
-first importance to the security and sanctity of Mlle. de Bergerac's
-position that there should be no appearance on my part of elusion or
-flight. The relations I speak of had ceased to exist; there was,
-therefore, every reason why for the present I should retain my place.
-Mlle. de Bergerac had been here some three minutes, and had just made
-known her wishes, when you arrived with the honorable intentions which
-you avow, and under that illusion the perfect stupidity of which is its
-least reproach. In my own turn. Messieurs, I thank you!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Gabrielle," said my father, as Coquelin ceased speaking, "the long and
-short of it appears to be that after all you needn't marry this man. Am
-I to understand that you intend to?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Brother, I mean to marry M. Coquelin."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father stood looking from the young girl to her lover. The Vicomte
-walked to the window, as if he were in want of air. The night was cool
-and the window closed. He tried the sash, but for some reason it
-resisted. Whereupon he raised his sword-hilt and with a violent blow
-shivered a pane into fragments. The Baron went on: "On what do you
-propose to live?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It's for me to propose," said Coquelin. "My wife shall not suffer."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Whither do you mean to go?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Since you're so good as to ask,&mdash;to Paris."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-My father had got back his fire. "Well, then," he cried, "my bitterest
-unforgiveness go with you, and turn your unholy pride to abject woe! My
-sister may marry a base-born vagrant if she wants, but I shall not give
-her away. I hope you'll enjoy the mud in which you've planted yourself.
-I hope your marriage will be blessed in the good old fashion, and that
-you'll regard philosophically the sight of a half-dozen starving
-children. I hope you'll enjoy the company of chandlers and cobblers and
-scribblers!" The Baron could go no further. "Ah, my sister!" he half
-exclaimed. His voice broke; he gave a great convulsive sob, and fell
-into a chair.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Coquelin," said my aunt, "take me back to the château."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-As she walked to the door, her hand in the young man's arm, the Vicomte
-turned short about from the window, and stood with his drawn sword,
-grimacing horribly.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Not if I can help it!" he cried through his teeth, and with a sweep of
-his weapon he made a savage thrust at the young girl's breast Coquelin,
-with equal speed, sprang before her, threw out his arm, and took the
-blow just below the elbow.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Thank you, M. le Vicomte," he said, "for the chance of calling you a
-coward! There was something I wanted."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Mlle. de Bergerac spent the night at the château, but by early dawn she
-had disappeared. Whither Coquelin betook himself with his gratitude and
-his wound, I know not. He lay, I suppose, at some neighboring farmer's.
-My father and the Vicomte kept for an hour a silent, sullen vigil in my
-preceptor's vacant apartment,&mdash;for an hour and perhaps longer, for at
-the end of this time I fell asleep, and when I came to my senses, the
-next morning, I was in my own bed.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-M. de Bergerac had finished his talk.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"But the marriage," I asked, after a pause,&mdash;"was it happy?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Reasonably so, I fancy. There is no doubt that Coquelin was an
-excellent fellow. They had three children, and lost them all. They
-managed to live. He painted portraits and did literary work.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"And his wife?"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Her history, I take it, is that of all good wives: she loved her
-husband. When the Revolution came, they went into politics; but here, in
-spite of his base birth, Coquelin acted with that superior temperance
-which I always associate with his memory. He was no <i>sans-culotte.</i>
-They both went to the scaffold among the Girondists."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GABRIELLE DE BERGERAC ***</div>
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