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diff --git a/old/69312-0.txt b/old/69312-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 12714ea..0000000 --- a/old/69312-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3866 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Naiad, by George Sand - -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: The Naiad - A ghost story - -Author: George Sand - -Translator: Katherine Berry di Zéréga - -Release Date: November 7, 2022 [eBook #69312] - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Carlos Colon, the University of Minnesota - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NAIAD *** - - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE NAIAD - A GHOST STORY - - - _FROM THE FRENCH OF_ - - GEORGE SAND - - - BY - - KATHERINE BERRY DI ZÉRÉGA - - - PRESS OF - WILLIAM R. JENKINS - 851 & 853 SIXTH AVENUE - NEW YORK - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1892, - BY - KATHERINE BERRY DI ZÉRÉGA. - - - - - TO THE LATE - - =Lady Frankland= - - THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY INSCRIBED - - BY HER - - MOTHER - - - - - _PREFACE._ - - -_When years ago the author of this volume read, with delight, the story -in the original, she then decided to translate it, in order that others -(unfamiliar with the language) might enjoy a similar pleasure; the work -of publication, hardly begun, was interrupted by the illness and sudden -death of her only daughter, and to one who in so many ways resembled the -heroine of this sketch, this book is now dedicated._ - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER I. - PAGE - THE THREE LOAVES, 3 - - - CHAPTER II. - - THE APPARITION, 19 - - - CHAPTER III. - - THE LAW SUIT, 35 - - - CHAPTER IV. - - THE NAIAD, 52 - - - CHAPTER V. - - THE DUEL, 83 - - - CHAPTER VI. - - CONCLUSION, 99 - - - - - THE NAIAD. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - THE THREE LOAVES. - - -Charged by my father with a very delicate mission, I repaired, towards -the end of May, 1788, to the château of Ionis, situated a dozen leagues -distant, in the lands lying between Angers and Saumur. I was twenty-two, -and already practising the profession of lawyer, for which I experienced -but slight inclination, although neither the study of business nor of -argument had presented serious difficulties to me. Taking my youth into -consideration, I was not esteemed without talent, and the standing of my -father, a lawyer renowned in the locality, assured me a brilliant -patronage in the future, in return for any paltry efforts I might make -to be worthy of replacing him. But I would have preferred literature, a -more dreamy life, a more independent and more individual use of my -faculties, a responsibility less submissive to the passions and -interests of others. As my family was well off, and I an only son, -greatly spoiled and petted, I might have chosen my own career, but I -would have thus afflicted my father, who took pride in his ability to -direct me in the road which he had cleared in advance, and I loved him -too tenderly to permit my instinct to outweigh his wishes. - -It was a delightful evening in which I was finishing my ride on -horseback through the woods that surrounded the ancient and magnificent -castle of Ionis. I was well mounted, dressed _en cavalier_, with a -species of elegance, and accompanied by a servant of whom I had not the -slightest need, but whom my mother had conceived the innocent idea of -giving me for the occasion, desiring that her son should present a -proper appearance at the house of one of the most brilliant personages -of our patronage. - -The night was illuminated by the soft fire of its largest stars. A -slight mist veiled the scintillations of those myriads of satellites -that gleam like brilliant eyes on clear, cold evenings. This was a true -summer sky, pure enough to be luminous and transparent, still -sufficiently softened not to overwhelm one by its immeasurable wealth. -It was, if I may so speak, one of those soft firmaments that permit one -to think of earth, to admire the vaporous lines of narrow horizons, to -breathe without disdain its atmosphere of flowers and herbage—in fine, -to consider oneself as something in this immensity, and to forget that -one is but an atom in the infinite. - -In proportion as I approached the seigneurial park the wild perfumes of -the forest were mingled with those of the lilacs and acacias, whose -blooming heads leaned over the wall. Soon through the shrubbery I saw -the windows of the manor gleaming behind their curtains of purple moire, -divided by the dark crossbars of the frame work. It was a magnificent -castle of the renaissance, a _chef-d’œuvre_ of taste mingled with -caprice, one of those dwellings where one is impressed by something -indescribably ingenious and bold, which from the imagination of the -architect seems to pass into one’s own, and take possession of it, -raising it above the usages and preoccupations of a positive world. - -I confess that my heart beat fast in giving my name to the lackey -commissioned to announce me. I had never seen Madame d’Ionis; she passed -for one of the prettiest women in the country, was twenty-two, and had a -husband who was neither handsome nor amiable, and who neglected her in -order to travel. Her writing was charming, and she found means to show -not only a great deal of sense, but still more cleverness in her -business letters. Altogether she was a very fine character. This was all -that I knew of her, and it was sufficient for me to dread appearing -awkward or provincial. I grew pale on entering the salon. My first -impression then was one of relief and pleasure, when I found myself in -the presence of two stout and very ugly old women, one of whom, Madame -the Dowager d’Ionis informed me that her daughter-in-law was at the -house of her friends in the neighborhood, and probably would not return -before the next day. - -“You are welcome, all the same,” added this matron. “We have a very -friendly and grateful feeling for your father, and it appears that we -stand in great need of his counsel, which you are without doubt charged -to communicate to us.” - -“I came from him,” I replied, “to talk over the affair with Madame -d’Ionis.” - -“The Countess d’Ionis does in fact occupy herself with business -affairs,” replied the dowager, rather coldly, as if to warn me that I -had committed a blunder. “She understands it, she has a good head, and -in the absence of my son, who is at Vienna, she is conducting this -wearisome and interminable law suit. You must not depend upon me to -replace her, for I understand nothing about it, and all that I can do is -to retain you until the countess’ return, and offer you a supper, such -as it may be, and a good bed.” - -Hereupon the old lady, who in spite of the little lesson she had given -me, appeared a good enough woman, rang and gave orders for making me at -home. I refused to eat anything, having taken care to do so on the road, -and knowing that nothing is more annoying than to eat alone, and under -the eyes of people with whom one happens to be totally unacquainted. - -As my father had allowed me several days in which to execute my -commission, I had nothing better to do, than to wait the return of my -beautiful client; and I was, in the eyes of herself and family, a -messenger of sufficient importance to be entitled to a very cordial -hospitality. I did not then await a second invitation to remain in her -house, although there was a very comfortable inn where persons of my -condition went ordinarily to await the moment of consultation with -“people of quality.” Such was still the language of the provinces at -this epoch, and it was necessary to appreciate these terms and their -value, in order to maintain one’s position without degradation and -without impertinence in one’s relations with the world. A _bourgeois_, -and a philosopher (they did not yet say Democrat), I was not in the -least convinced of the moral superiority of the nobility, and although -they prided themselves upon being philosophical, I knew it was necessary -to humor their susceptibilities of etiquette and respect them, in order -to be respected oneself. I displayed then a slight timidity with an air -of sufficiently good style, having already seen at my father’s house -some specimens of all classes of society. The dowager appeared to -perceive this, before the lapse of many minutes and no longer assumed an -air of condescension in order to welcome, if not as an equal, at least -as a friend the son of the family lawyer. - -While she was conversing with me, as a woman with whom custom supplies -the place of wit, I had the leisure to examine both her countenance and -that of the other matron still stouter than she who, seated at some -distance and filling in the background of a piece of tapestry, never -opened her lips and scarcely raised her eyes in my direction. She was -dressed somewhat in the style of the dowager, in a dark silk gown with -tight sleeves, and a black lace scarf, surmounting a white cap, tied -under her chin. But it was not so fresh or clean, her hands were less -white, although equally plump, her type coarser, although coarseness was -very evident in the heavy features of the stout dowager of Ionis. In -short I was no longer in doubt as to her condition of companion, when -the dowager remarked apropos of my refusal to sup. - -“No matter, Zéphyrine, we must not forget that M. Nivières is young, and -that he may be hungry yet before going to sleep. Order a light supper to -be served in his apartment.” - -The monumental Zéphyrine arose; she was as tall as she was stout. “And -above all,” observed her mistress, “do not let them forget the bread.” - -“The bread,” said Zéphyrine, in a fine, husky little voice that offered -a pleasing contrast to her stature. Then she repeated, “The bread!” with -an intonation strongly marked by doubt and surprise. - -“The loaves,” replied the dowager with authority. - -Zéphyrine seemed to hesitate an instant and went out, but her mistress -recalled her immediately, and gave her this strange order—“Three -loaves!” - -Zéphyrine opened her mouth to answer, shrugged her shoulders slightly -and disappeared. - -“Three loaves!” I exclaimed in my turn. “But what kind of an appetite do -you suppose I have, Madame la Comtesse?” - -“Oh, that is nothing,” said she, “They are quite small.” - -She was silent for a moment, I sought for some subject of conversation -while awaiting the time when I might retire, when she appeared a prey to -a certain perplexity, placed her hand on a bell, and stopped to say as -if speaking to herself—“Still three loaves!” - -“It is a great deal in fact,” answered I, repressing a strong temptation -to laugh. She looked at me in amazement, unconscious that she had spoken -aloud. - -“You speak of the law suit,” said she, as if to make me forget her -distraction, “it is a great deal that they claim. Do you think we will -gain it?” - -But she paid very little attention to my evasive answers, and rang -emphatically. A servant came, she asked for Zéphyrine, who reappeared -and in whose ear she whispered, after which she seemed relieved, and -began to chat with me like a good-natured gossip, very ignorant, but -benevolent and almost maternal, questioning me upon my tastes, my -dispositions, my occupations and my pleasures. I made myself more of a -child than I was in order to put her at her ease, for I soon remarked -that she was one of those women of the great world who contrive to get -along with the most mediocre intelligence, and who would prefer not to -encounter a greater degree in others. On the whole she showed so much -good nature that I was not greatly bored with her during the space of an -hour, and that I did not await her permission to leave her with too much -impatience. - -A groom of the chambers conducted me to my apartment, for it was almost -a complete suite, three decidedly handsome rooms, quite large and -furnished in the Louis XV style, with a great deal of luxury. My own -servant to whom my good mother had given his lesson, was in my bedroom, -awaiting the honor of undressing me, in order to appear as well posted -in his duties as the valets of great houses. - -“This is all very well, my dear Baptiste,” said I to him, when we were -alone, “but thou canst go to sleep, I shall undress myself as I have -been in the habit of doing all my life.” - -Baptiste bade me good-night, and left me. It was only ten o’clock. I had -no desire to sleep so soon, so I set myself to examine the furniture and -pictures in my room, when my eyes fell upon the repast which had been -served near the fire-place, and the three loaves appeared before me in -all their mysterious symmetry. They were passably large and arranged in -the centre of the Japanese waiter in a pretty basket of old Saxony, with -a handsome silver salt-cellar in the midst, and three damask napkins -placed at intervals around it. - -“What the deuce does this mean?” I asked myself, “and why has this -vulgar accessory of my supper, the bread, tormented my aged hostess to -such an extent?” “Why were three loaves so expressly ordered? Why not -four! Why not ten? Since they take me for an ogre! Upon my word! This is -really a bounteous feast, and here are some bottles of wine whose -etiquettes promise well. But why three carafes of water? Here again it -becomes mysterious and absurd. Does this good old countess imagine that -I am triple, or that I carry two guests in my valise?” I was musing upon -this enigma when some one knocked at the door of the ante-chamber. - -“Come in,” cried I, without moving, thinking that Baptiste had forgotten -something. What was my surprise to behold the powerful Zéphyrine in her -night cap, holding a candle in one hand and, with a finger placed upon -her lips, advancing towards me on tip-toe as if she entertained the -absurd idea of not letting the floor creak under her elephantine tread. -I certainly grew paler than I had done in preparing to meet the youthful -Madame d’Ionis. The spectacle of this voluminous apparition was truly -appalling! - -“Fear nothing, sir,” said the good old maid ingeniously, as if she had -divined my terror. “I come to explain about the extraordinary—the three -carafes, and the three loaves.” - -“Ah! willingly,” answered I, offering her an armchair, “I was really -considerably perplexed.” - -“As housekeeper,” said Zéphyrine, refusing to be seated and still -holding her candle, “I should be very much mortified if monsieur -imagined that I wished to perpetrate a poor joke. I would not permit -myself—and still I come to ask monsieur to connive at it, so that my -mistress may not be displeased.” - -“Go on, Mademoiselle Zéphyrine, I am not of a disposition to be vexed at -a joke, above all, when it is an amusing one.” - -“Oh! _mon Dieu_, no, sir, there is nothing amusing about it, but neither -is there anything disagreeable. It is only this, madame the dowager -countess is very—her head is very—.” Zéphyrine stopped short; she either -loved or feared the dowager and could not make up her mind to criticise -her. Her embarrassment was comical, for it showed itself in a childish -smile curling around the corners of a decidedly small and toothless -mouth which caused her round, chubby face, minus forehead and chin, to -appear still larger. You might have mistaken it for the full moon -grimacing as it is represented on almanacs. Her breathless little voice, -and her peculiar lisp had the effect of causing her to appear so -extraordinary that I did not dare to look her in the face for fear of -losing my countenance. - -“Let me see,” said I, endeavoring to encourage her in her revelations, -“madame the dowager countess is something of a tease; she likes to amuse -herself at the expense of others!” - -“No, sir, no indeed. She does it in perfect good faith; she believes, -she imagines”—I sought in vain for what the countess might imagine, when -Zéphyrine added with an effort—“In fact, sir, my poor mistress believes -in spirits!” - -“Well, granted,” I replied. “She is not the only person of her sex and -age who entertains the same belief; and, it certainly does harm to no -one.” - -“But it sometimes causes evil to those who fear them, and if monsieur -should be afraid of anything in this apartment, I can assure him that -nothing ever reappears here.” - -“So much the worse, I would have been very pleased to see something -supernatural. Ghosts are part of all old manors and this one is so -handsome that I would only have imagined very agreeable phantoms.” - -“Really, monsieur has then heard something spoken of?” - -“In regard to this castle and this apartment, never. I am waiting for -you to tell me about it.” - -“Well, monsieur, this is the story: In the year—I can’t remember—but it -was in the reign of Henri II, monsieur must know better than I when that -was, there lived here three young ladies of the d’Ionis family, -beautiful as the day, and so amiable that they were adored by everybody. -A wicked court lady who was jealous of them, and of the youngest in -particular, caused some poison to be placed in the water of a fountain -from which they drank and which was used in making their bread. All -three died the same night, and as they pretend to say, in the room where -we now are. But this is not by any means certain and no one ever -imagined such a thing until lately. To be sure they were in the habit of -telling a story in the country of three white ladies who had shown -themselves for a long time in the castle and in the gardens; but it was -so old that no one thought of it any more, and no one believed it, when -one of the friends of the family, M. l’abbé de Lamyre, who is an _esprit -gai_ and a good talker, having slept in this room, dreamed or pretended -to have dreamed of three green ladies who had appeared and prophesied -before him. And as he saw that his dream interested madame the dowager, -and diverted the young countess, her daughter-in-law, he invented -whatever he pleased and made his ghosts talk according to his fancy so -well, that madame the dowager is persuaded that the future of the family -and that of the law suit, which is tormenting M. le comte, might be -revealed by causing these phantoms to reappear and speak. But, as all -the persons who have lodged here have seen nothing at all, and have -simply laughed at her, she has resolved to put only those here who not -having been forewarned would not think of inventing apparitions or of -concealing those that they might have seen. This is why she has ordered -you to be put in this room without saying anything to you, but as madame -is not very—clever, perhaps, she has not been able to keep herself from -speaking to me of the three loaves in your presence.” - -“To be sure, the three loaves and the three carafes have given me some -subject of thought. Nevertheless, I confess that absolutely I can -discover no connection whatever.” - -“Oh, yes, monsieur, the three ladies of the time of Henri II were -poisoned by bread and water.” - -“There I see the connection very plainly, but I do not understand how -this offering, if it is one, should be agreeable to them. What do you -think of it yourself?” - -“I think wherever their souls may be they neither know nor care anything -about it,” said Zéphyrine with an air of superior modesty. “But you -ought to learn how these ideas were suggested to my good old mistress. I -bring you the manuscript that Madame d’Ionis, her daughter-in-law, -Madame Caroline as we call her here, has herself unearthed by means of -directions given in some old scribblings found in the archives of the -family. This perusal will interest you more than my conversation, and I -am going to wish you good evening after having preferred a little -petition, however.” - -“With all my heart, my dear young lady, what can I do for you?” - -“Do not tell any one in the world, unless Madame Caroline, who will not -mind, that I have forewarned you, for madame the dowager would scold me, -and would trust me no longer.” - -“I promise, and what must I say to-morrow if I am questioned in regard -to my dreams?” - -“Ah! that, monsieur, is a case in which you must have the kindness to -invent something, a dream without sense or connection, whatever you -please, provided it includes the three young ladies, otherwise madame -the dowager will be like a soul in torment, and will accuse me of not -putting the loaves, and carafes and salt-cellar in their places, or -rather that I have warned you, and that your incredulity has prevented -the ghosts from making their appearance. She is convinced of these -ladies’ bad temper and of their refusal to show themselves to those who -ridicule them beforehand, were it only in their thoughts.” - -Left alone, after having promised Zéphyrine to lend myself to the fancy -of her mistress, I opened and read the manuscript of which I shall only -relate the circumstances relative to my story. That of the d’Ionis, -young ladies appeared to me purely legendary, recounted by Madame -d’Ionis on the faith of documents of slender authenticity, which she -herself criticised in that light and mocking strain which was the -fashion of the day. I pass over then in silence the chronicle of the -three dead ladies, thus coldly commented upon, and which had appeared -more interesting to me in the sober words of Zéphyrine and will only -relate the following fragment, transcribed by madame d’Ionis from a -manuscript dated 1650, and revised by an ancient chaplain of the castle. - -“It is a fact that I have heard in my youth that the castle of Ionis was -haunted by three spirits, exhibiting the appearance of ladies richly -dressed, who without menacing any one appeared to be seeking something -in the rooms and closets of the house. Masses and prayers recited for -their benefit proving ineffectual to prevent their return, some one -conceived the idea of causing three white loaves to be blessed, and of -putting them in the room where the demoiselles d’Ionis had expired. That -night they came without making any noise or frightening any one by their -appearance, and it was discovered on the following day that they had -nibbled the loaves after the manner of mice but had taken nothing away, -and on the following night they had recommenced complaining and making -the doors creak and bolts groan. For this reason some one conceived the -idea of giving them three pitchers of clear water, which they did not -drink, but a portion of which they spilled. At length the prior of Saint -—— suggested that they might be entirely appeased by offering them a -salt-cellar with white salt, on account of their having been poisoned by -a loaf without salt, and as soon as this was done they were heard -singing a very beautiful song in which we are assured that they -promised, in Latin, to bestow blessings and good fortune upon the -younger branch of the Ionis family to whom their property had reverted. -This took place, I am told, in the time of King Henri IV, and since then -nothing further has been heard of them; but for a long time a belief -existed in the d’Ionis family, that by making them this offering at -midnight they could be drawn thither and the future revealed through -them. It is even said that if the three loaves, three carafes and a -salt-cellar should by chance be discovered on a table in the aforesaid -castle, astounding things would be seen and heard in this place.” - -To this fragment Madame d’Ionis had added the following reflection: “It -is much to be regretted for the sake of the d’Ionis family that this -fine miracle should have ceased; all its members would then have been -virtuous and wise: but, though I have in my hands a formula of -invocation arranged by some astrologer formerly attached to the house, I -have no hopes that the green ladies will ever reappear here.” - -I remained for some time absorbed, not from the effects of this perusal, -but rather on account of Madame d’Ionis’ pretty handwriting and her -elegant revision of the other reflections that accompanied the legend. I -did not then make, as I permit myself to-day, any criticism on the easy -scepticism of this beautiful lady. I fully sympathized with her on this -point. It was the fashion to regard fantastical things not from an -artistic but from an ironical point of view. People prided themselves -upon not crediting nurses’ tales or the superstitions of former ages. I -was, besides, strongly disposed to fall in love. They had spoken to me -so much at home of this amiable person, and my mother had recommended me -so strongly on my departure, not to allow my head to be turned that it -was already partially accomplished. So far I had only been in love with -two or three of my cousins, and these affections, rehearsed in verses as -chaste as my flame, had not consumed my heart to such an extent that it -was not ready to lend itself to burning much more seriously. - -I had brought with me a bundle of law papers that my father had made me -promise to look over. I opened it conscientiously; but after having read -several pages with my eyes, without taking in the sense of a single -word, I soon found out that mode of study was perfectly useless and -wisely determined to renounce it. I thought I could make up for my -laziness by seriously thinking over the d’Ionis law suit, that I had at -the end of my fingers, and I prepared the arguments with which I was to -convince the countess of the steps she ought to take. Only, each of -these wonderful arguments terminated, I know not how, with some amorous -madrigal which had no direct connection with the procedure. - -In the midst of this important work I was seized with hunger. The muse -is not so hard upon children of a family accustomed to live well as to -forbid them to sup with a good appetite. I therefore set myself to do -justice to the _pâté_ which smilingly greeted me among my law papers and -my alexandrines, and I unfolded the napkin placed at my plate where, to -my great surprise, I found a fourth roll. - -This surprise yielded quickly to a very simple train of reasoning. If in -the plans and previsions of the dowager, the three cabalistic loaves -were to remain intact, it was but natural that one should have been -consecrated to the demands of my appetite. I tasted the wines and found -them of so good a quality that I generously made a sacrifice to the -phantoms of the carafes of water, designed for their particular use. - -And while eating with great pleasure, I, at length, began to think of -the chronicle and to ask myself how I should recount the wonders that I -could not dispense with having seen. I regretted that Zéphyrine had not -furnished me with more details of the three dead women’s presumed -peculiarities. The extract from the magazine of 1650 was not -sufficiently explicit: were these ladies to wait until I was asleep -before coming, like mice, to nibble the loaves they were supposed to -relish so greatly? Or rather, were they likely to appear at any moment, -and seat themselves, one at my left, the other at my right, and the -third opposite me? - -The bell of the castle announced midnight, it was the classic hour, the -fatal hour! - - - - - CHAPTER II. - THE APPARITION. - - -The clock struck twelve, but the last vibration died away without any -ghost appearing. I arose, thinking I was rid of them. I had finished -eating and, after a dozen leagues on horseback, began to feel the need -of sleep, when the bell of the castle which had a very fine _timbre_ -solemn and resounding, began again to toll the four quarters and twelve -hours with an imposing slowness. - -Shall I confess that I felt some emotion at this sort of return of the -fantastical hour that I thought had gone by? Why not? So far I had -maintained a philosophical composure. Although a fervent disciple of -reason, I was none the less a very young man, and a man of imagination, -brought up at the knees of a mother, who firmly believed in all the -legends which served as lullabies, and which had never appeared in the -least laughable to me. I was conscious of experiencing an imperceptible -uneasiness, and in order to overcome it—for I felt quite ashamed of it—I -hastened to undress myself. - -The bell had ceased tolling. I was in bed and about to extinguish my -candle, when a clock some distance from the village began in its turn to -strike four quarters and twelve hours, but in a tone so lugubrious and -with such dreadful nonchalance, that I was seriously discomposed—and -still more so, as it had like the castle clock a double stroke, and -appeared as if it would never cease. - -In fact, for several minutes it seemed as if I would hear it recommence -and that it would strike thirty-seven times; but this was a pure -illusion, as I assured myself by opening my window. The most profound -silence reigned in the castle and throughout the country. The sky was -quite overcast, the stars were no longer visible; the air was heavy; and -I could see clouds of moths dancing in the ray of light that my candle -cast outside. Their uneasiness was a sign of storm. As I have always -enjoyed a tempest greatly, I pleased myself with inhaling its approach. -Sudden gusts wafted the perfume of the garden towards me. The -nightingale sang once more, then ceased, in order to seek a shelter. I -forgot my foolish emotion while enjoying this spectacle of reality. - -My room opened on the court of honor, which was immense and surrounded -by magnificent buildings, whose delicate proportions were defined in -pale blue against the dark sky, by the light of the first flashes. - -But the wind arose and drove me from the casement from which it seemed -desirous of tearing away the curtains. I closed everything and before -again retiring, as I wished to brave the ghosts and satisfy Zéphyrine by -accomplishing conscientiously what I presumed to be the rites of -invocation, I brushed the table and removed the remains of my repast. I -placed the three carafes around the basket. I had not disturbed the -salt; and wishing to establish a complete victory over myself, by -provoking my imagination to its extreme limit, I arranged three chairs -around the table and placed three candlesticks upon it, one before each -easy chair. - -After this, I extinguished all the lights and fell asleep quietly, -without failing to compare myself to sire Enguerrand, whose story my -mother had often sung to me in the form of a plaintive melody, -recounting thus his adventures in the terrible castle of Ardennes. - -You can very well believe that my first sleep must have been profound, -for I remember nothing more of the storm, and it was not that which -awoke me; it was a clinking of glasses on the table, that I at first -heard intermingled with my dreams—and that I ended by hearing in -reality. I opened my eyes, and—believe me who will, but I was witness of -such surprising things, that after twenty years the slightest detail is -as clear in my memory as on the first day. - -There was some light in the room although I could see no candle burning. -It was a species of very vague green flame, which seemed to proceed from -the fire-place. By the means of this faint illumination I could see, not -very distinctly, but beyond any doubt, three persons, or rather three -forms seated on the chairs that I had placed around the table, one at -the right, the other at the left, the third between the two first, -opposite the first-place, with its back to my bed. - -In proportion as my eyes became accustomed to this light, I thought I -could distinguish in these three shadows the forms of women, dressed or -rather enveloped in voluminous greenish white veils, which at times -resembled clouds, and which entirely concealed their faces, forms and -hands. I do not know if they moved; but, if so, I could see none of -their motions: and still the clinking of the glasses continued, as if -they had been pushed and knocked against the basket, in a sort of -musical measure. After the lapse of several moments, I confess I grew -seriously alarmed. I thought I was the dupe of some mystery, and was -about to leap resolutely into the middle of the room in order to -frighten those who wished to terrify me when, remembering that in this -house there could be none but respectable women, perhaps great ladies, -who were doing me the honor of amusing themselves at my expense, I -suddenly drew my curtain and hurriedly dressed myself. - -When this was accomplished, I pulled back the curtain to watch for the -time when I should surprise these malicious people by a loud outcry in -my harshest voice when, behold! everything had disappeared, and darkness -reigned supreme. - -At this period, the means of procuring light instantaneously had not -been discovered; I did not even possess that of obtaining it slowly by -aid of my gunflint. I was thus compelled to feel my way towards the -table, where I found absolutely nothing but the easy chairs, the -carafes, the candlesticks and the rolls, in the same order I had placed -them. - -No perceptible voice had betrayed the departure of the strange visitors; -it is true that the wind was still blowing very hard and howled -mournfully down the large chimney of my room. - -I opened the window and blinds, and after quite a struggle succeeded in -fastening them. - -Day had not yet dawned, and the slight transparency of the exterior air -was not sufficient to permit me seeing every part of my room, so I was -compelled to go by the sense of feeling, not wishing to call any one, or -ask questions, so much I feared to appear alarmed. I passed into the -_salon_ and the room beyond, taking care to make no more noise in my -search; then I came back, seated myself upon my bed, struck my watch, -and thought over my adventure. - -My watch had stopped, and the clocks out of doors struck the half hour, -as if to announce that no other means existed of learning the time. - -I listened to the wind and strove to examine its sound or to detect any -which might proceed from some corner of my apartment. I tortured my eyes -and my ears. I racked my brain also to discover if I had not dreamed -what I thought I had seen. The thing was possible, although I could -remember no dream that had preceded or led up to this nightmare. - -I resolved to torment myself no longer, and to await a return of sleep -on my bed without undressing myself in case of some new mystification. - -But I could not go to sleep again. Nevertheless, I felt tired and the -wind soothed me inexpressibly. I dropped off every few moments, and the -next instant I would reopen my eyes, and in spite of myself gaze -suspiciously into the darkness and emptiness around me. - -I was beginning at last to doze, when the clinking recommenced, and, -this time, opening my eyes wide, without moving, I saw the three ghosts -in their places, motionless apparently with their green veils floating -in the verdant light that proceeded from the fire-place. I feigned -sleep, for it was probable that my open eyes could not be seen in the -shadow of the alcove, and I observed attentively. I was no longer -frightened; I no longer experienced anything but a curiosity to surprise -a mystery either pleasant or disagreeable (as the case might be), a -phantasmagoria with well appointed scenery, enacted by living people, -or—I confess that I could find no definition for the second hypothesis; -it could only be a foolish, and ridiculous one, and still it tormented -me as being possible. - -I then saw the three shadows arise, and move rapidly and noiselessly -around the table with incomprehensible gestures. They had seemed to me -of medium height when seated; standing, they were as tall as men. -Suddenly, one of them diminished in size, re-assumed the figure of a -woman, became quite small, then grew disproportionately tall, and -approached me, while the two others remained standing under the shadow -of the fire-place. - -This affected me very unpleasantly and with a childish movement, I -covered my face with my pillow, as if to place an obstacle between -myself and the vision. - -Then, ashamed of my stupidity, I looked around attentively. The ghost -was seated in an easy chair placed at the foot of my bed. I could not -see its face. The head and bust were not invisible, but partially -obscured by the curtain of the alcove. The light from the fire-place, -grown brighter, revealed only the lower portion of a figure and the -folds of a garment whose form and color though indeterminate, could no -longer be called into question. - -It was fearfully immovable, as if nothing breathed under this species of -shroud. I waited several moments that appeared an age to me. I felt that -I was losing the coolness with which I had armed myself. I moved in my -bed, I thought of flying I knew not where. I resisted this idea. I -passed my hands over my eyes, then stretched them out resolutely to -seize the spectre by the folds of this perfectly visible garment; but -they encountered space. I threw myself upon the chair, it was empty. -Light and vision had alike disappeared. I recommenced rushing through -the room and the adjoining apartments. As at first, I found them empty. -Quite sure this time that I had neither dreamed nor slept, I stayed up -until day-break which did not long delay. - -Of late years people have made quite a study of the phenomena of -hallucinations; they have been observed and classified. Scientific men -have experimented upon themselves. I have even seen delicate and nervous -women often act as spiritual mediums not without suffering, but without -fear, and giving a thorough account of this state of delusion in which -they had been. - -In my youth, they were not so far advanced, there was no medium between -the absolute denial of all visions and a blind belief in apparitions. -They laughed at those who were tormented by these visions that were -attributed to credulity and fear, and only excused in cases of serious -illness. - -So during this terrible watch, I reprimanded myself severely and -unjustly for my weakness of mind, without ever once thinking of -attributing it all to the effect of a bad digestion or atmospherical -influence. Such an idea would have been entertained with difficulty as -with the exception of a little fatigue and bad humor I did not feel in -the least ill. - -Thoroughly resolved to boast of my adventure to no one, I retired and -slept very well until Baptiste knocked at my door to inform me that -breakfast would soon be ready. I admitted him after having thoroughly -convinced myself that my door had remained bolted, as I had previously -assured myself before going to sleep; I had observed, and I again -noticed that the other door of my apartment was in a like condition. I -counted the large screws which secured the tiles of the fire-place. I -sought in vain for the slightest indication of a secret door. - -Besides, of what use would it be, said I to myself, whilst Baptiste was -powdering my hair; have I not seen an object without substance, a robe, -or a shroud which vanished beneath my touch? - -Without this conclusive circumstance, I might have attributed it all to -a joke of Madame d’Ionis, as I learned from Baptiste that she had -returned the evening before towards midnight. - -This news snatched me from my preoccupation. I bestowed particular pains -upon my _coiffure_ and my toilet, and was a little vexed that the nature -of my profession condemned me to wear black; but my mother had supplied -me with such fine linen and such well cut coats that I considered myself -on the whole, very presentable. I was neither ill-looking or badly -formed. I resembled my mother, who had been very beautiful, and without -being foppish, I was accustomed to remark the general approval that a -pleasing countenance produces. - -Madame d’Ionis was in the _salon_ when I entered. I beheld a bewitching -woman indeed; but much too small to have figured in my trio of spectres. -Neither was there anything fantastical or diaphanous about her. Hers was -a realistic beauty, fresh, gay, lively, expressing gracefully, what was -designed in the style of the period, an amiable embonpoint, discussing -every subject clearly and sensibly, and revealing great energy of -character combined with singular sweetness of manner. - -After exchanging several words with her, I understood how, thanks to so -much intelligence and resolution, candor and cleverness, she managed to -live on good terms with a pretty bad husband and a very stupid -mother-in-law. - -Scarcely had we begun breakfast, when the dowager, scrutinizing me -closely, declared that I looked ill and pale, although I had so far -forgotten my adventure as to eat with a good appetite, and to be -pleasantly affected by the amiable attention of my beautiful hostess. - -Then recollecting Zéphyrine’s instructions, I hastened to say that I had -slept well and had had very pleasant dreams. - -“Ah! I was sure of it,” cried the old lady evidently enchanted. “One -always sleeps well in that room. Tell us your dreams, Monsieur -Nivières.” - -“They were very confused; still I think I can remember a lady.” - -“Only one?” - -“Perhaps two!” - -“Perhaps three also?” said Madame d’Ionis, smiling. - -“Precisely, madame, you remind me that they were three!” - -“Pretty?” said the triumphant dowager. - -“Rather pretty, but somewhat faded.” - -“Really?” said Madame d’Ionis, who seemed to communicate through her -eyes with Zéphyrine (who was seated at the lower end of the table), in -order to answer me. “And what did they say to you?” - -“Incomprehensible things. But if it interests madame, the dowager -Countess, I will do my utmost to remember.” - -“Ah! my dear child,” said the dowager, “it interests me more than I can -say. I will explain by and by. Begin by telling us.” - -“But it will be very difficult for me to tell. Can any one recount a -dream?” - -“Perhaps if your memory were assisted,” said Madame d’Ionis with great -coolness, determined to encourage her mother-in-law’s hobby; “did they -say nothing to you about the future prosperity of this house?” - -“It seems to me they did, in fact.” - -“Ah! you see, Zéphyrine,” cried the dowager; “you who believe in nothing -and I wager that they spoke of the law suit: come, Monsieur Nivières, -tell us all about it.” - -A glance from Madame d’Ionis warned me not to answer. I declared that -not a word of the law suit had I heard in my dreams. The dowager seemed -greatly disappointed, but consoled herself by saying: “It will come! It -will come!” - -This, “it will come,” was very disagreeable to me, although it was said -with the utmost benevolence. I did not in the least care to pass another -bad night, but I readily resigned myself to my fate when Madame d’Ionis -said to me in an undertone, while the dowager was quarreling with -Zéphyrine about her lack of faith. - -“It is very amiable of you to lend yourself to this fancy of the day in -our house. I trust indeed that you will have only pleasant dreams while -with us; and you are not absolutely compelled to see these three young -ladies every night. It is sufficient that you should have spoken of them -to-day to my excellent mother-in-law without laughing. It gives her -great pleasure and does not compromise your courage. All of our friends -have decided to see them in order to have some peace.” - -I was sufficiently compensated and magnetized by the air of confiding -intimacy that this charming woman assumed towards me to recover my -ordinary gayety, and I endeavored, during my meal to recall, little by -little, the wonderful things that had been revealed to me. Above all I -predicted through the green ladies, a long life to the dowager. - -“And my asthma, monsieur?” said she, “did they tell you that I would be -cured of my asthma?” - -“Not exactly; but they spoke of long life, fortune and health.” - -“Well, indeed; I ask nothing further of the good God.” - -“Now, my child,” said she to her daughter-in-law, “you who tell a story -so well, relate to this good young man the cause of his dreams, and tell -him the history of the three young ladies of Ionis.” - -I assumed an air of surprise, Madame d’Ionis asked permission to give me -the manuscript, that she had only prepared, she said, in order to -dispense with going over the same story so often. - -Breakfast being over, the dowager went to take her siesta. - -“It is too warm to go in the garden at noon,” said Madame d’Ionis, “and -still I do not wish you to work at that horrid law suit just after -leaving the table. So if you care to visit the interior of the castle, -which is quite interesting, I will act as your guide.” - -“To accept your proposition is indiscreet and presumptuous,” I answered, -“and yet I am dying to do so.” - -“Well, don’t die, but come on,” said she, with adorable gayety. - -But she added immediately, and quite naturally: - -“Come with us, my good Zéphyrine; you will open the doors for us.” - -An hour before, the addition of Zéphyrine would have been very agreeable -to me, but I no longer felt so timid in Madame d’Ionis’ society, and I -confess that the presence of a third person annoyed me. I certainly had -no sort of presumption, no impertinent ideas; but it seemed to me that I -could have talked more sensibly and agreeably in a _tête-à-tête_. The -presence of this full moon blunted my ideas, and impeded the flight of -my imagination. - -And then Zéphyrine was thinking of the thing, that I, most naturally, -would gladly have forgotten. - -“You see now, Madame Caroline,” said she to Madame d’Ionis, while -crossing the gallery on the ground floor, “there is nothing at all in -the green ladies’ room; M. Nivières has slept there undisturbed.” - -“Well, dear me! My good creature, I don’t doubt it,” answered the young -woman. - -“M. Nivières doesn’t impress me as a fool but that doesn’t hinder me -from believing that the abbé Lamyre _did_ see something there.” - -“Indeed,” said I, with some emotion, “I have occasionally had the honor -of seeing Monsieur de Lamyre, and I should have thought him no more of a -fool than myself.” - -“He is not a fool, sir,” replied Zéphyrine, “he is fond of a joke which -gives a serious tone to his jests.” - -“No,” said Madame d’Ionis with decision, “he is a clever man with a -powerful imagination. He began by making fun at our expense, and telling -us stories about ghosts. It was easy then, not for our good dowager, but -for the rest of us, to see that he was joking. But perhaps we should not -jest too much about certain foolish ideas. It was very evident to me, -that one night something frightened him, since then nothing could -persuade him to enter that room. But let us speak of something else, for -I am sure that M. Nivières is already sick of this story, as for myself -it bores me inexpressibly, and since you have already shown him the -manuscript, I am absolved from giving myself any further concern about -it.” - -“It is strange, madame,” replied Zéphyrine laughing, “one would say that -you, in your turn, are beginning to put some faith in this story! I then -am the only person in the house who remains incredulous.” - -We entered the chapel and Madame d’Ionis rapidly sketched its history. -She was very cultivated and nothing of a pedant, and exhibited in the -course of her explanations all the important rooms, the statues, the -paintings and all the rare and precious furniture contained in the -castle. She manifested throughout so incomparable a grace and so -remarkable a degree of complaisance that I fell in love at first sight, -as they say, in love to the extent of being jealous when I reflected -that she was perhaps as amiable with every one as with myself. - -In this manner we at length arrived at the immense and magnificent hall -divided into two galleries by a beautiful rotunda. This hall was called -the library, although only a portion of it was consecrated to books. The -other half was a sort of museum for pictures and works of art. The -rotunda contained a fountain surrounded by flowers. Madame d’Ionis -called my attention to this valuable monument, that had recently been -removed from the gardens and placed here to preserve it from accident, -the fall of a large branch on a stormy night having slightly injured it. - -It was a rock of white marble on which marine monsters were intertwined, -and above them, on the most elevated portion, a naiad, regarded as a -_chef-d’œuvre_ was gracefully seated. This group was thought to be the -work of Jean Goujon or of one of his best pupils. - -The nymph, instead of being nude, was chastely draped; a circumstance -which caused it to be thought that it was the portrait of a modest lady -who had not been willing to pose in the simple apparel of a goddess, or -permit the artist to interpret her elegant figure in order to exhibit it -to the gaze of a profane public. But these draperies, from which the -upper part of the bust and arms as far as the shoulders alone were -released did not prevent one from appreciating the ensemble of this -extraordinary type which characterizes the statuary of the renaissance, -those slight proportions, that roundness combined with slenderness, that -delicacy allied to strength, that indefinable something more beautiful -than nature, which at first surprises us like a dream, and which little -by little captivates the most enthusiastic region of the mind. One knows -not if these beauties were conceived for the senses, but they do not -affect them. They seem to owe their origin to a Divinity in some Eden, -or on some Mount Ida, from which they have but descended against their -will, to mingle in the realities of earth. Such is the famous Diana of -Goujon, majestic, almost terrifying in aspect, despite the serene -sweetness of its lineaments, exquisite and monumental, informed with -physical vigor and yet calm as intellectual force. - -I had as yet seen nothing of that national statuary, that we have -perhaps never sufficiently appreciated, and which places the France of -that period on a level with the Italy of Michael Angelo. I did not at -first comprehend what I beheld. I was besides ill-disposed towards it, -while comparing this extraordinary type with the plump and dainty beauty -of Madame d’Ionis, a true Louis XV. specimen, ever smiling and more -attractive, on account of her vitality, than through any grandeur of the -intellect. - -“This is more beautiful than true, _n’est-ce pas_?” said she calling my -attention to the long arms and serpentine body of the naiad. - -“I don’t think so,” I replied while regarding Madame d’Ionis with -involuntary ardor. - -She did not appear to pay the least attention. - -“Let us stop here,” said she, “the air is so cool and refreshing. If you -wish, we will speak of business. Zéphyrine, my dear, you may leave us.” - -I was at last alone with her! Two or three times during the past hour, -the beautiful glance of her eye, unaffectedly vivacious and loving, had -given me a vertigo, and I had thought were Zéphyrine not here I would -throw myself at her feet. - -But hardly had she left us than I felt myself chained by a sentiment of -respect and fear, and at once began to discuss the law suit with a -desperate perspicacity. - -[Illustration] - - - - - CHAPTER III. - THE LAW SUIT. - - -“So,” said she after having listened with attention, “there is no way of -losing it?” - -“The opinion of my father as well as of myself, is that in order to lose -it, it would be necessary to desire its loss.” - -“But your worthy father has surely understood that I did wish it -absolutely?” - -“No, madame,” replied I with firmness, for it was a question of my duty, -and I assumed the only part proper for me to play, in the presence of -this noble lady. “No, my father does not so understand it. His -conscience forbids him to betray the interests confided to him by M. le -comte d’Ionis. He thinks that you will induce your husband to adopt a -compromise and he will render it as acceptable as possible to the -adversaries that you protect. But he will never bring himself to -persuade M. d’Ionis that his cause is bad in justice.” - -“In legal justice,” she replied, with a sweet sad smile; “but, in real -justice, in moral and natural justice, your worthy father knows well -that our right leads us to exercise a cruel spoliation.” - -“What my father thinks of this subject,” I replied a little confused, -“he is only accountable for to his own conscience. When a lawyer can -defend a cause where the two justices of which you speak are in his -favor, he is very fortunate, thoroughly compensated for those cases -where he finds them in opposition; but he ought never to observe this -distinction when he has voluntarily accepted the charge, and you know, -madame, that my father has only consented to oppose M. d’Aillane because -you wished him to do so.” - -“I did wish it, yes! I obtained my husband’s consent that this suit -should not be confided to another; I hoped that your father, the best -and most honest man of my acquaintance would succeed in saving this -unhappy family from the rigorous pursuit of my own. A lawyer can always -show himself reticent and generous, above all when he knows that he will -not be blamed by his principal client. And I am this client, monsieur. -It concerns my fortune, and not M. d’Ionis, which nothing menaces.” - -“It is true, madame but you are in the power of your husband; and the -husband, like the chief of the community....” - -“Ah! I know the rest! He has more rights over my fortune than I myself -possess, and he uses them in my interest, I am willing to believe it, -but he forgets, that in this, my conscience is concerned; and for whom? -He has an immense personal fortune and no children; I have then before -God the right to despoil myself of a portion of my wealth in order not -to ruin honest people, victims of a question of procedure.” - -“Such a sentiment is worthy of you, madame, and I am not here to dispute -so fine a right, but to remind you of our duty, and to beg of you not to -require us to be faithless to our trust. All the concessions consistent -with the success of your suit, we will observe, even should we incur the -reproaches of M. d’Ionis and those of his mother. But to withdraw from -the accepted task, declaring that success is doubtful, and that it would -be better to compromise, is what a thorough investigation of the affair -forbids us to do, under penalty of falsehood and betrayal.” - -“Indeed, no! You are mistaken,” cried Madame d’Ionis excitedly. “I -assure you, you are mistaken. These are legal subtilities which may -deceive a man grown old in the practice of law, but that a _sensible_ -young man ought not to accept as an absolute rule of conduct.... If your -father has undertaken the suit, and you admit that he has done so at my -request, it is because he foresaw my intentions. Had he been ignorant of -them, I should greatly regret the fact, and I would think that you did -not entertain the esteem for me that I would have liked to inspire in -the members of your family. In this case where one feels that victory -would be horrible, one does not fear to propose peace before the battle. -To act otherwise is to conceive a false idea of duty. Duty is not a -military password, it is a religion, and a religion which would -prescribe evil, ceases to be one. Hush! speak to me no more of your -charge. Do not place M. d’Ionis’ ambition above my honor, do not make a -sacred thing of this ambition. It is a disgraceful thing, no more, and -no less. Unite your efforts with mine to save these unfortunate people. -Act so that I may find in you a friend after my own heart, rather than -an infallible legislator and an implacable lawyer!” - -While speaking thus she gave me her hand and enveloped me in the -enthusiastic fire of her beautiful eyes. I lost my head and covering her -hand with kisses, I felt myself conquered. In fact, I was so in advance -I had been of her opinion before seeing her. I still defended myself -however, for I had sworn to my father that I would not yield to the -sentimental considerations that his client had caused him to foresee in -her letters. Madame d’Ionis would not hear a word of my defense. - -“You speak,” said she, “like a good son, who is pleading his father’s -cause, but I would like you better, were you not so good a lawyer.” - -“Ah! madame,” I cried heedless of consequences, “do not say that I am -pleading against you, for you would make me hate too much a calling for -which I feel that I have not the requisite insensibility.” - -I will not weary you with the particulars of the law suit instituted by -the d’Ionis family against the d’Aillanes. The conversation I have just -reported will suffice to explain my story. It concerned an estate of -five hundred thousand francs, that is to say, almost all the funded -fortune of our beautiful client. M. d’Ionis made a very bad use of the -immense wealth that he possessed on his own side of the house. He was -given over to dissipation, and the doctors allowed him but two years to -live. It was quite possible that he would leave his widow more debts -than money. Should Madame d’Ionis renounce the benefit of the law suit, -she would then incur the risk of falling from a state of opulence, into -a condition of mediocrity to which she had not been brought up. My -father pitied the d’Aillane family greatly, a family deserving the -highest esteem, and which included a worthy gentleman, his wife and his -two children. The loss of the law suit would plunge them into misery; -but my father naturally preferred to devote himself to the future of his -client and to preserve her from disaster. This was for him a true case -of conscience; but he had recommended me not to urge this consideration -with her. “Her soul is romantic and sublime,” said he, “and the more her -personal interest is alleged, the greater pride and pleasure she will -take in the joy of her sacrifice; but with the approach of age, her -enthusiasm will disappear. Then look out for regrets; and look out also -for the reproaches that she will justly heap upon us for not having -wisely counselled her.” - -My father did not know that I was so much of an enthusiast in fact. -Engaged in numberless affairs, he had confided to me the care of -subduing the generous impulses of this admirable woman, by taking refuge -behind pretended scruples which he only considered as accessories. It -was a very good idea, but he had not foreseen any more than myself that -I would share Madame d’Ionis’ opinion to such an extent. I was at an age -when material wealth is of no value in the imagination; it is a period -of a wealth of heart. - -And then this woman, who produced upon me the effect of a spark on -powder; this despicable absent husband condemned by his physicians; the -moderate circumstances which threatened her, and towards which she -smilingly stretched her arms—how did I know? - -I was an only son, my father possessed some fortune and I could also -acquire one. I was only a _bourgeois_, who owed a position to a -magistracy in the past, and in the present to the consideration attached -to talent and probity; but we were in the midst of a philosophical -period, and without thinking ourselves on the verge of a radical -revolution, one could readily admit the idea of an impoverished woman of -quality, marrying a man of lower condition in easy circumstances. - -In short, my youthful imagination was fired, and my young heart -instinctively desired the loss of Madame d’Ionis’ fortune. While she -talked with animation about the annoyances of wealth and the happiness -of a reduced condition _à la_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, I made such rapid -strides in my romance that it seemed as if she were deigning to guess at -my thoughts and was alluding to them in each one of the intoxicating -words that fell from her lips. - -I did not however surrender openly. My word was pledged; I could only -promise to try and dissuade my father. I could give no assurance of -success, for I did not myself participate in any. I knew the firmness of -his decisions. The solution was approaching, we had reached the -termination of delays and evasive procedures. Madame d’Ionis proposed a -plan, in case she should bring me over to her views. It was that my -father should feign illness when the time arrived to plead the cause, -that the case then should be confided to me, and that I should lose it! - -I confess that I took fright at this hypothesis and that I then -understood my father’s scruples. To hold in one’s hands the destiny of a -client and to sacrifice her rights to a question of sentiment, is a fine -role when one can fill it openly and by her order; but such was not my -position. On account of M. d’Ionis, it was necessary to preserve -appearances, to execute errors adroitly, and to employ deceit in order -that virtue might triumph. I became frightened, I grew pale, I almost -wept, for I was in love, and the idea of refusing broke my heart. - -“Let us say no more about it,” said Madame d’Ionis kindly, she seemed -now to divine, if she had not already done so, the passion she had -awakened in me. “Pardon me for having put your conscience to this proof. -No! You must not sacrifice it to mine, we must find some other means of -securing these poor adversaries. We will search for it together, for you -are on my side, I see it, I feel it, in spite of yourself. You must stay -with me for several days. Write to your father that I am resisting and -that you are endeavoring to overcome my scruples. To my mother-in-law, -we will have the appearance of studying the chances of success together. -She is persuaded that I am a born lawyer, and Heaven is my witness, that -before this deplorable affair, I knew no more about such things than she -herself, which isn’t saying much! Come,” she added, resuming her -charming and sympathetic gayety, “do not let us torment ourselves and -don’t be so sad! We will contrive to find some cause for delay. Ah! I -have one now, a most singular and absurd one, but which none the less -would exercise an all-powerful influence over the mind of the good -dowager, and even over M. d’Ionis. Can’t you guess it?” - -“I have no idea what you mean.” - -“Well then it is this, to make the green ladies speak.” - -“What! really, does M. d’Ionis share his mother’s credulity?” - -“M. d’Ionis is very brave, he has given proofs of it; but he believes in -ghosts and fears them. Let the three young ladies forbid us to hasten -the law suit and the suit will remain inactive.” - -“So, you can think of nothing better to satisfy the desire I feel of -aiding you, than that of condemning me to the use of abominable -impostures? Ah! Madame, how well you understand the art of making people -unhappy!” - -“What! you are so scrupulous as all that? Haven’t you already -participated with a good grace?” - -“A joke without consequences was all very well; but if M. d’Ionis -inquires into the matter and summons me to declare upon my honor....” - -“True! ’Tis only another worthless idea! Let us attempt no more to-day.” -“_La nuit porte conseil._” “To-morrow, perhaps, I shall at last be able -to propose something practicable. It is getting late, and I hear the -abbé Lamyre who is looking for us.” - -The abbé Lamyre was a charming little man. Although fifty years old, he -was still fresh and good-looking. He was kind, frivolous, witty, -entertaining, full of fun, and in fact, held philosophical opinions, -always agreeing with those whom he conversed with, for the question with -him was not to persuade, but to please. He threw his arms around my -neck, and heaped praises upon me which I esteemed at their proper value, -as coming from one whom I knew lavished them upon everyone, but for -which I was more thankful than usual, on account of the pleasure they -seemed to afford Madame d’Ionis. - -He praised my great talents as a lawyer and poet and forced me to recite -some verses, which appeared to be relished more than they deserved. -Madame d’Ionis, after having complimented me with an air of emotion and -sincerity, left us together to attend to the cares of her household. - -The abbé talked of a thousand things that did not interest me. I would -have liked to be alone to indulge in a revery, to recall each word, each -gesture of Madame d’Ionis; but the abbé attached himself to me, and told -me numerous ingenious stories that I consigned to the devil. At last, -the conversation assumed a lively interest for me, when it turned upon -the burning ground of my relations with Madame d’Ionis. - -“I know what brings you here,” said he, “she has already spoken to me -about it. Without knowing the day of your visit, she was expecting you. -Your father does not wish her to ruin herself, and, _parbleu_, he is -very right. But he will not convince her, and you must either quarrel -with her, or let her have her own way. If she believed in the green -ladies, _à la bonne heure_, you might make them speak in her interest, -but unfortunately she has no more faith in them than you or I!” - -“Madame d’Ionis pretends however that you do believe in them, Monsieur -l’abbé.” - -“I? She told you that? Yes, yes, I know she treats her little friend as -if he were a great coward! Sing the duo with her, I am not afraid of the -green ladies, I do not believe in them; but there is certainly one thing -that alarms me, it is having seen them.” - -“How then do you reconcile such contradictory assertions?” - -“Nothing more simple, either there are ghosts or there are none. I -myself have seen them, and I have paid the penalty for knowing that they -exist. Only I do not consider them malicious, I am not afraid of their -injuring me, I was not born a coward, but I mistrust my brain which is -composed of saltpetre. I know that shadows have no more power over -bodies than bodies have over shadows, since I have held the sleeve of -one of these young ladies without discovering any kind of arm. From that -moment, which I shall never forget; and which has changed all my ideas -about the things of this world and of the next, I have sworn to myself -that never again would I put human weakness to such a test. I am not at -all desirous of losing my reason. So much the worse for me if I have not -sufficient moral strength to coolly and philosophically contemplate what -passes my understanding; but why should I deceive myself? I began by -trifling with myself, and laughingly summoned the ghost. The ghost -appeared.—_Bonjour!_ Once is enough for me, you won’t catch me in it -another time.” - -One can readily imagine that I was strongly impressed by what I had -heard. The abbé’s faith was evident. He did not believe that he was the -victim of a mania. Since the emotions he had experienced in “_la chambre -aux dames_,” he had never again dreamed of them. He added that he was -convinced that they would have done him no kind of harm or injury, had -he possessed sufficient courage to examine them. - -“But I did not,” he observed, “for I almost lost consciousness, and -realizing my weakness, I said: “Whoever wishes to do so may penetrate -this mystery, I will not assume the charge, I am not equal to such a -task.” - -I questioned the abbé carefully. His vision had been almost exactly like -my own. I made a great effort not to let him suspect the similarity of -our adventures. I knew he was too much of a gossip to preserve the -secret inviolate, and I feared Madame d’Ionis’ sarcasms more than all -the demons of the night; so I assumed an air of ignorance while the abbé -questioned me, assuring him that nothing had disturbed my sleep; and -when the moment arrived at eleven o’clock in the evening, to re-enter -this fatal room, I laughingly promised the dowager to keep a secret -account of my dreams, and took leave of the company with an air of -gayety and valor. - -Nevertheless I was far from feeling either the one or the other. The -presence of the abbé, the supper and the evening spent under the -dowager’s eyes, had rendered Madame d’Ionis more reserved than she had -been with me in the morning. She also seemed to say in each allusion to -our sudden and cordial intimacy: “You know at what price I have granted -it to you.” I was vexed with myself, I had been neither submissive -enough, or sufficiently independent, I seemed to have betrayed the -mission my father had confided to me, without in the least advancing my -chimeras of love. - -The sombre interior reacted upon my impressions and my beautiful -apartment wore a gloomy and lugubrious air. I knew not what to think of -either the abbé’s reason or my own. Had it not been for a feeling of -_mauvaise honte_, I would have asked for other lodgings and I really -experienced a sensation of anger, when I saw Baptiste enter with the -accursed waiter, the basket, the three loaves and all the absurd -accompaniments of the previous evening. - -“What does this mean?” said I testily. “Am I hungry? Haven’t I just left -the table?” - -“Indeed, Monsieur,” he replied, “I think it is very odd. It was -Mademoiselle Zéphyrine who ordered me to bring it to you. It was of no -use for me to tell her that you were in the habit of passing your nights -in sleeping, and not in eating, she answered laughingly: - -“Take it all the same, it is a custom we have always observed. It will -not annoy your master and you will see that he will be pleased to have -you leave it in his room.” - -“Very well, _mon ami_, do me the favor of carrying it back, without -saying anything about it in the servant’s hall. I need my table to write -upon.” - -Baptiste obeyed. I locked myself in, and retired, after having written -to my father. I confess that I slept splendidly and dreamed of but one -lady, Madame d’Ionis. - -The next day, the dowager assailed me anew with questions. I was so rude -as to declare that I had dreamed nothing worth mentioning. The good lady -was greatly disappointed. - -“I am sure,” said she to Zéphyrine, “that you did not put the ladies’ -supper in M. Nivières’ room?” - -“Pardon me, madame,” replied Zéphyrine, looking at me reproachfully. - -Madame d’Ionis seemed also to say with her eyes, that I was disobliging. -The abbé exclaimed ingenuously: - -“It is strange; these things then happen only to me?” - -After breakfast he left, and Madame d’Ionis appointed a meeting with me, -at one o’clock, in the library. I was there at noon; but she sent me -word by Zéphyrine that she was besieged by importunate visitors and that -I must have patience. This was easier to ask than acquire. I waited; the -minutes seemed centuries. I asked myself how I had managed to exist up -to this time, without this _tête-à-tête_ that I already called _daily_, -and how I could go on living when there would be no further occasion to -expect it. I sought for some means that should entail the necessity, and -resolved at last to protract the law suit, to the extent of my poor -abilities, and I puzzled my brains over a thousand subterfuges which did -not even possess the merit of common sense. - -While walking up and down the gallery, in my agitation, I every now and -then stopped before the fountain and sometimes seated myself upon its -brink, that was surrounded by magnificent flowers, artistically disposed -in the crevices of the rough rock on top of which rested a block of -white marble. This rugged base gave a more finished effect to the work -of the chisel causing the water to overflow in brilliant sheets into the -lower receptacles, which were adorned with aquatic plants. - -It was a delicious spot, and the reflection of the stained glass -occasionally imparted an appearance of life to the fantastical features -of the statuary. - -I regarded the naiad with renewed wonder, surprised to find it so -beautiful and realizing at last the exalted sense of this mysterious -loveliness which I no longer thought of comparing unfavorably with that -of Madame d’Ionis. I felt that all comparisons are puerile between -inanimate objects and beings that bear no resemblance to each other. -This inspiration of Jean Goujon’s had a beauty peculiar to itself—the -face wore an expression of sublime sweetness—and seemed to communicate a -feeling of repose and happiness to the mind, like the sensation of -freshness imparted by the continuous murmur of the limpid waters of the -fountain. At last Madame d’Ionis made her appearance. - -“Here is some news,” said she, seating herself familiarly near me; “look -at this strange letter that I have just received from M. d’Ionis.” - -And she showed it to me with an _abandon_ that affected me strongly. I -was disgusted with a husband whose letters to such a wife could be shown -without embarrassment to the first comer. - -The letter was cold, long and diffuse, the characters slender and -tremulous, the orthography very doubtful. Here is the substance of it: - -“You ought not to have any scruples about gaining your end. I have none -whatever in employing the most rigid legal means. I refuse all other -arrangements than those I have already proposed to the d’Aillanes, and I -wish to see a termination to this law suit. You may, when it is once -gained, extend a helping hand to them, I shall not oppose your -generosity, but I wish for no compromise. Their lawyer has offended me -in his address in the first place, and the appeal that they have lodged -is presumptuous beyond belief. I find M. Nivières very sluggish, and I -have expressed my displeasure through the mail to-day. Act, yourself, -stimulate his zeal, unless some higher order should issue from ——. You -know what I mean, and I am surprised that you say nothing to me about -what may have been observed in the room—since my departure. Has no one -had the courage to pass the night there and to write down what he may -have heard? Must we depend alone on the assertions of the abbé de -Lamyre, a man who does not speak seriously? Let some one _worthy of -belief_ attempt this proof, unless you have sufficient courage to do so -yourself, which would not surprise me.” - -As she read this last sentence, Madame d’Ionis burst out laughing. - -“M. d’Ionis amuses me,” she said. “He flatters me so that he may induce -me to attempt a thing that he would never think of doing himself, and he -is indignant at the cowardice of people for whose benefit nothing would -induce him to give such an example.” - -“What I find most remarkable in this,” said I, “is M. d’Ionis’ faith in -these apparitions, and his respect for the decisions he believes them -capable of rendering.” - -“You see now,” said she, “that this is the only means of subduing his -rigor towards the poor d’Aillanes; I told you so, and I repeat it, and -you will not lend yourself to it, when the opportunity is so fine. Since -he is so anxious to receive the green ladies’ revelations perhaps he -will not go so far as to ask you for your word of honor.” - -“It seems to me, on the contrary, that I must seriously assume the role -of imposter, since M. d’Ionis demands the assertion of a person ‘_worthy -of belief_.’” - -“And then you fear the ridicule, the blame, the jests that you would not -fail to meet with; but I could answer for M. d’Ionis’ absolute silence -so far as that is concerned.” - -“No, madame, no! I would fear neither ridicule nor blame, as long as it -was a question of obedience to your wishes. But you would despise me if -I merited this blame by a false oath. Besides, why not try to induce the -d’Aillanes to consent to a compromise conveying honorable conditions to -themselves?” - -“You know perfectly well that those M. d’Ionis proposes are not -honorable.” - -“You have then no hope of modifying his intentions?” - -She shook her head and was silent. This gesture was an eloquent -explanation of the kind of man her husband was, a creature without heart -or principle, indifferent to such an array of charms, and given over to -excesses. - -“Still,” replied I, “he authorizes you to be generous after victory.” - -“And what does he take them for?” cried she, crimsoning with anger. “He -forgets that the d’Aillanes are the soul of honor, and will never -receive as a favor or benefit, what justice causes them to regard as the -legal property of their family.” - -I was struck with the energy she infused into this reply. - -“Are you then so intimate with the d’Aillanes?” I asked. “I was not -aware of it.” - -She blushed again and answered in the negative. - -“I have never had much to do with them,” said she; “but they are nearly -enough related to me for our honor to be identical. I am quite sure that -it was my uncle’s wish to leave them his fortune, and still more as M. -d’Ionis having married me for what is termed _mes beaux yeux_, did not -at that time have the countenance to look up a fortune for me by means -of breaking this will, through some legal defect.” Then she added: - -“Are you not acquainted with any of the d’Aillanes?” - -“I have seen the father quite often, the children never, the son is an -officer in a garrison somewhere or other.” - -“At Tours,” said she quickly. Then she added, still more hastily: - -“At least I think so.” - -“They say he is a very fine fellow!” - -“I am told so, but I have not seen him since he has grown up.” - -This answer reassured me. For an instant it had occurred to me that the -disinterested magnanimous motives of Madame d’Ionis might be -attributable to a passion that she entertained for her cousin d’Aillane. - -“His sister is charming,” said she; “Have you never seen her?” - -“Never, isn’t she still in the convent?” - -“Yes, at Angers, they say she is an angel. Will you not be proud when -you have succeeded in plunging a daughter of a good house into misery? -One who counted rightfully, upon an honorable marriage and a life -agreeable to her rank and education? This is what troubles her poor -father more than anything else. But come, tell me your expedients, for -you have sought and found some, have you not?” - -“Yes,” I replied, after having reflected as well as one can reflect in a -fever. “I have found a solution.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE NAIAD. - - -I had hardly imparted this hope of success, when I was terrified at -having entertained it myself, but I could not now withdraw. My beautiful -client overwhelmed me with questions. - -“Well, madame,” said I, “the means must be found of making the oracle -speak, without my acting the part of an imposter; but you must furnish -me with certain details which I lack, concerning the apparition, whose -theatre of action as they affirm is this castle.” - -“Will you look over the old papers from which I made my extracts?” cried -she joyfully. “I have them here.” She opened a piece of furniture of -which she had the key, and showed me quite a long account, with -commentaries written at different epochs by different chroniclers -attached to the chapel of the castle, or to the chapter of a neighboring -convent that had been secularized under the last reign. - -As I was in no hurry to undertake an engagement which would have -abridged the time accorded to my mission I put off reading this -fantastical bundle of papers until evening, and allowed myself to be -chastely cajoled by my enchantress. It seemed to me that she was -exercising a delicate coquetry, whether it was that she clung to her -ideas to the extent of compromising herself a little in order to triumph -eventually, whether my resistance excited her legitimate pride of an -irresistible woman, or whether, in fine, and I dwelt with delight on -this last supposition, she was animated by a particular regard for me. - -She was forced to leave me, other visitors were arriving. There was -company at dinner; she presented me to her noble neighbors with marked -distinction, and showed me more consideration before them, than I had -perhaps any right to expect. Some appeared to think that I was receiving -more than my position entitled me to, and tried to make her so -understand it. She proved that she feared no criticism, and showed so -much courage in sustaining me that I began to lose my head. - -When we were alone together, Madame d’Ionis asked me what I intended -doing with the manuscripts relative to the apparition of the three green -ladies? I was over excited, it seemed as if she really loved me and that -I had now no occasion to fear her raillery. I then recounted -ingenuously, the vision I had seen, and the one similar to it, that the -abbé Lamyre had related to me. - -“So I am forced to believe,” I added, “that conditions of the soul exist -in which, equally without fear, charlatanism or supposition, certain -ideas assume images which deceive our senses, and I wish to study these -phenomena, that I have already witnessed, under the simple or sage -conditions which have produced them. I do not conceal from you, that -contrary to my habits of mind, far from guarding myself from the charm -of these illusions, I will do everything in my power to yield my -intellect up to them. And should I in this poetical disposition of mind, -succeed in seeing or hearing some ghost who commands me to obey you, I -will not draw back from the oath that M. d’Ionis or his mother may -require. No one can force me to swear that I believe in the revelations -of spirits or in apparitions of the dead, for perhaps I may not put -absolute faith in them, but in asserting that I have heard voices, since -even now I can affirm that I have seen shadows, I will not be a liar, -and should I be taken for a fool, what do I care as long as you do me -the honor of not sharing this opinion?” - -Madame d’Ionis exhibited great surprise at what I told her, and asked me -many questions relative to my vision in the ladies’ room. She listened -without laughing, and was even astonished at the calmness with which I -had undergone this strange adventure. - -“I see,” said she, “that you are very strong-minded. As to me, I -confess, that in your place I would have been afraid. Before permitting -you to make another attempt, swear that you will be no more affected or -frightened by it than the first time.” - -“I think I can promise that,” I replied. “I feel excessively calm, and -should I witness any terrifying spectacle, I trust that I shall remain -master of myself sufficiently to attribute it solely to my imagination.” - -“Do you wish to make this extraordinary invocation to-night, then?” - -“Perhaps; but I would prefer first to read all the reports concerning -it, and I would also like to glance over some work on this subject, not -any derogatory _critique_, my doubts are sufficiently established, but -one of those ancient, simple treatises where among many absurdities, I -may chance to discover some ingenious ideas.” - -“Very well, you are right,” said she, “but I do not know what work to -recommend. I have never dipped into these old books; if you would like, -to-morrow, to look over the library”——. - -“If you will permit me, I will set about this task at once. It is only -eleven o’clock, this is the time that your house subsides into silence. -I will sit up in the library, and if my imagination becomes slightly -excited, I will then be in a fit frame of mind to return to my room so -that I may offer to the three ladies the commemorative supper which -possesses the virtue of attracting them hither.” - -“I will order the famous tray to be taken there then,” said Madame -d’Ionis, smilingly, “and I am forcing myself to look only on the strange -side of this affair, not to be too much impressed by it.” - -“What, madame, you too!” - -“Eh, _mon Dieu_,” she exclaimed, “after all, what do we know about it? -We ridicule everything nowadays; are we any the wiser for it than -formerly? We are weak creatures, who think ourselves strong; who knows -if we do not thus render ourselves more material than God desired, and -if what we take for lucidity of vision is not really blindness. Like -myself, you believe in the immortality of the soul. Is an absolute -separation between our own and those freed from matter so clear a thing -to conceive that we can prove it?” - -She talked in this fashion for several minutes with a great deal of -intelligence and imagination; then left me, a little disturbed, begging -me in case I should become nervous or beset by lugubrious ideas, to -abandon my project. I was so happy and so touched by her solicitude, -that I expressed my regret at not having a little fear to overcome so -that I might better prove my zeal. - -I went up stairs to my room, where Zéphyrine had already arranged the -basket; Baptiste wanted to take it away. - -“Leave it,” said I, “since it is the custom of the house, and go to bed, -I have no more need of you than I have ever had.” - -“_Mon Dieu_, monsieur,” said he, “if you will permit me, I will pass the -night on an easy chair in your room.” - -“And why, my friend?” - -“Because I have heard there were ghosts here. Yes, yes, sir, I -understand the servants now, they are very much afraid of these ghosts, -and I who am an old soldier, I would like to show them that I am not so -foolish as they are.” - -I refused, however, and left him to arrange the bed, while I went down -to the library, after having told him not to wait for me. I wandered -through the immense hall before beginning my work, and locked myself in -carefully, lest I should be disturbed by some prying or mischievous -valet. I then lighted a silver candelabra with numerous branches and -began to turn over the leaves of the fantastical pamphlet relative to -the green ladies. - -The frequent apparition of the d’Ionis demoiselles observed and reported -in detail coincided in every particular with what I had seen and with -what the abbé had recounted to me. But then neither he nor I had -possessed sufficient faith, or courage to question the phantoms. Others -had done so, according to the chroniclers, and it had been reserved for -them to see the three maidens, no longer as greenish clouds, but in all -the brilliancy of their youth and beauty, not all of them at once, but -one in particular, while the others remained in the background. Then -this funereal beauty answered all _serious_ and _decent_ questions that -might be asked of her. She unveiled the secrets of the past, of the -present, and of the future. She gave judicious advice. She informed -those who were capable of making a good use of them where treasures lay -concealed. She foretold disasters that might be averted, mistakes to be -repaired. She spoke in the name of God and of the angels. She was a -beneficent power to those who consulted her with good and pious designs, -but she invariably reproved and threatened mockers, libertines and -impious people. According to the manuscript, they had been known to -inflict severe punishment upon those whose intentions were wicked or -fraudulent, and those who were only influenced by malice or idle -curiosity might expect fearful things to befall them, such as they would -have bitter cause to regret. - -Without particularizing these fearful things, the manuscript furnished -the formula of invocation and all the rules to be observed, with so much -seriousness and such naïve good faith that I yielded myself to its -influence. The apparition assumed such marvelous colors in imagination -as to beguile me rather to desire than to fear it. I did not feel in the -least depressed or alarmed at the idea of seeing the dead walk or of -hearing them speak; on the contrary, I revelled in elysian dreams, and -beheld a Beatrix arise in the rays of my empyrean. - -“And why should these dreams be denied me,” I exclaimed, mentally, -“since the prologue of the vision has already been vouchsafed me? My -foolish fears have hitherto rendered me unworthy and incapable of -believing in Swedenborgian revelations, such as superior minds credit -and which I have mistakenly ridiculed. But now I will gladly renounce -these old illusions, and such sentiments will surely be more healthful -and agreeable to the soul of a poet than the cold denial of our age. If -I pass for a madman, should I even become one, what matters it; I will -have lived in an ideal sphere, and will, perhaps, be happier than all -the sages of the earth combined.” - -Thus I communed with myself, resting my head on my hands. It was about -two o’clock in the morning and the most profound silence reigned -throughout the castle and the surrounding country, when a sound of -delicate and exquisite music, which seemed to proceed from the rotunda -snatched me from my revery. I raised my head and pushed back the -candlestick, so that I could see to whom I was indebted for this -serenade, but the four candles which lighted my writing-table -thoroughly, were not sufficient for me to distinguish objects at the end -of the hall even, still less the rotunda beyond. - -I proceeded at once towards this rotunda and being no longer dazzled by -another light, I could distinguish the upper portion of the beautiful -group in the fountain, fully illuminated by the moon, whose rays -penetrated the arched window of the cupola. The rest of the circular -hall was in shadow. In order to assure myself that I was as much alone -as I appeared to be, I drew back the bolt of the large glass door which -opened on the parterre, and saw in fact that no one was there. The music -had seemed to diminish and fade away in proportion to my approach, so -that I now could scarcely hear it. I passed into the other gallery, and -found it also deserted, but here the sounds which had so charmed me -could once more be heard distinctly, and this time they seemed to -proceed from the rear. - -I paused without turning around, to listen to them; they were sweet and -plaintive and formed a melodious combination beyond my comprehension. It -was rather a succession of vague and mysterious chords, struck as if by -chance and executed by instruments that I could not divine, for their -tones resembled nothing that I had ever heard. The effect although -pleasing was exceedingly melancholy. - -I retraced my steps and convinced myself that these voices, if voices -they could be called, issued decidedly from the shell of the tritons and -nymphs of the fountain, increasing and diminishing in intensity as the -water which now flowed in an irregular and intermittent manner, -increased or decreased in the basins. - -I saw nothing fantastical in this for I remembered having heard of those -Italian jets, which produced hydraulic organs of a more or less -successful nature, through means of air compressed by water. These -sounds were sweet and very true, perhaps because they attempted no air -and only sighed forth harmonious chords somewhat after the manner of -eolian harps. - -I also remembered that Madame d’Ionis had spoken to me of this music, -telling me that it was out of order, and that sometimes it played by -itself for several minutes. - -This solution did not prevent me from pursuing the course of my poetical -reveries. I was grateful to this capricious fountain who reserved its -music for me alone, on such a beautiful night and amid so religious a -silence. - -Seen thus by the light of the moon, the effect was startling, a shower -of green diamonds appeared to be descending upon the fresh ferns that -were planted around the border. There was something appalling in the -appearance of the tritons, immovable in the midst of all this tumult, -and their dying murmurs, mingled with the subdued sound of the cascades, -made them seem as if in despair that their passionate souls should be -chained in bodies of marble. One would have thought it a scene from -Pagan life that had been suddenly petrified by the sovereign touch of -the naiad. - -I then remembered the species of fear that this nymph had caused me in -broad daylight, with her air of proud repose in the midst of these -monsters writhing beneath her feet. - -Can an unemotional soul express true beauty? thought I, and should this -creature of marble awake to life, despite her magnificence would she not -terrify one, by that air of supreme indifference which renders her so -superior to the beings of our race? - -I regarded her attentively in the light of the moonbeams which bathed -her white shoulders and revealed her small head set upon a firm and -slender neck as upon a column. I could not distinguish her features, as -she was at too great a height; but her easy attitude was defined in -brilliant lines with an incomparable grace. - -This is truly, thought I, the idea I would fain picture to myself of the -green lady, for surely, seen thus.... - -Suddenly I ceased to reason or reflect. It seemed to me that I saw the -statue move. - -I thought that a cloud was passing over the moon and had produced the -illusion; but there was none. Only, it was not the statue that moved, it -was a form that arose from behind or beside her, and which seemed -exactly like her, as if an animate reflection had detached itself from -this body of marble and had quitted it to approach me. For a moment I -doubted the evidence of my senses, but it became so distinct, so -positive, that I was soon convinced that I beheld a real being, and that -I experienced no feeling of terror, nor even any very great surprise. - -The living image of the naiad descended the irregular steps of the -monument with a flying motion; her movements were easy and ideally -graceful. She was not much taller than a real woman, although the -elegance of her proportions imparted a stamp of exceptional beauty, -which had intimidated me in the statue; but I no longer experienced -aught of this feeling, and my admiration rose to ecstasy. I stretched -out my arms to seize her, for it seemed as if she were about to rush -towards me leaping over a height of from five to six feet which still -separated us. - -I was mistaken. She stopped on the edge of the rock and made me a sign -to move back. - -I obeyed mechanically and saw her seat herself upon a marble dolphin, -which at once began to roar in a genuine fashion; then suddenly all -these hydraulic voices increased like a tempest and formed a truly -diabolical concert around her. - -I began to be somewhat unnerved when a ghostly greenish light, which -seemed but a more brilliant moonbeam burst from I knew not where, -distinctly revealing the features of the living naiad, so like those of -the statue that I had to look twice in order to assure myself that it -had not quitted its rocky chair of state. - -Then, no longer seeking to unravel this mystery without any desire to -comprehend it, I became dumbly intoxicated with the supernatural beauty -of this apparition. The effect that it produced upon me was so absolute, -that I never even thought of approaching it, in order to assure myself -of its immateriality, as I had done before when it had appeared in my -room. - -And had I entertained such an idea, which I am altogether unconscious of -doing, the fear of causing it to vanish by an audacious curiosity -probably withheld me. - -How did it happen that I was not overcome by the desire of verifying the -evidence of my senses? ’Twas in truth the influence of the sublime -naiad, with clear and living eyes, beaming with a fascinating sweetness, -the naiad, with undraped arms, contours of transparent flesh and supple -motions resembling those of childhood. This daughter of Heaven seemed at -the utmost about fifteen years old. The ensemble of her figure expressed -the perfect chastity of youth, while the charm of a mature womanly soul -illuminated her features. - -Her peculiar attire was precisely that of the naiad; a robe or floating -tunic, made of some indescribable and marvellous tissue whose soft folds -seemed wet and clinging; an exquisitely wrought diadem, and showers of -pearls were entwined in her magnificent hair, with that mixture of -peculiar luxury and happy caprice which characterizes the taste of the -renaissance; in singular and charming contrast to the altogether simple -garment, and which evinced its richness only in the easy grace of its -arrangement and the minute finish of the jewels, and delicate details of -the coiffure. - -I could have gone on looking at her all my life, without dreaming of -addressing her. I did not observe the silence that had succeeded to the -roar of the fountain, I do not even know whether I stood gazing at her -for a moment or for an hour. It seemed to me of a sudden—as if I had -always seen her, always known her—it was, perhaps, because I was living -a century in a moment’s space. - -She was the first to speak. I heard but could not understand all at -once, for the silvery tones of her voice, like her supernatural beauty, -served to complete the illusion. - -I listened as if to music, without seeking to attach any particular -sense to her words. - -At last I made an effort to shake off this stupor and heard her ask if I -could see her. I know not what I answered, for she added: - -“Under what guise dost thou behold me?” - -It was only then that I remarked she addressed me as “thou.” I felt -myself drawn to reply in the same fashion, for if she spoke to me _en -reine_, I addressed her as a divinity. - -“I see thee,” I replied, “as a being to whom naught upon this earth can -compare.” - -It seemed to me that she blushed, for my eyes were becoming accustomed -to the sea-green light which inundated her figure. I beheld her, white -as a lily, with the fresh tint of youth upon her cheek, a melancholy -smile added to her charms. - -“What do you see extraordinary in me?” said she. - -“Beauty,” I replied, briefly. I was too much moved to add more. - -“My beauty,” answered she, “is an effect of the imagination; for it does -not exist in a form that thou canst appreciate. All that is here of me -is my mind. Address me then as a soul and not as a woman. About what did -you wish me to advise you?” - -“I no longer remember.” - -“And the cause of this forgetfulness?” - -“Is thy presence.” - -“Try to remember.” - -“No, I do not wish to.” - -“Then, adieu!” - -“No, no,” I exclaimed, approaching her, as if to retain her, but I -stopped short—terrified, for the light suddenly paled and the apparition -seemed fading away. - -“In the name of heaven, remain!” I went on, with anguish. “I am -submissive, my love for you is chaste.” - -“What love?” she asked, reassuming her brilliancy. - -“What love? I know not. Did I speak of love? Oh, yes, I remember now. -Yesterday I loved a woman and I wished to please her, to work her will -at the risk of betraying my duty. If you are a pure essence, as I -believe, you know everything. Must I then explain?” - -“No, I know the facts that concern the posterity of the family whose -name I bear.” “But I am no divinity, I cannot read souls, I did not know -that thou lovedst.” - -“I love no one. At this moment I love nothing upon earth, and I would -like to die if in another state of existence I could follow you.” - -“Thou talkest wildly. To be happy after death, it is necessary to have -led a pure life. Thou hast a difficult duty to fulfill, and it is for -this that thou hast summoned me. Perform thy duty then or thou wilt -never see me more.” - -“What is this duty? Speak, henceforth I will obey none but thee.” - -“This duty,” answered the naiad, leaning towards me and speaking so low -that I could with difficulty distinguish her voice from the fresh murmur -of the waters, “is to obey thy father. And, afterwards, thou shalt tell -the generous woman who wishes to sacrifice herself, that those whom she -pities will always bless her, but will never accept her sacrifice. I -know their thoughts, for they have summoned and consulted me. I know -that they are fighting for their honor, but that they do not fear what -men call poverty. For proud souls there is no such thing as poverty. Say -this to the lady who will question thee to-morrow, and yield not to the -love that she inspires so far as to make thee betray the religion of thy -family.” - -“I will obey, I swear. And, now reveal to me the secrets of eternal -life. Where is your soul now? What different qualities has it acquired -in this removal?” - -“All that I can say is this: death does not exist—nothing dies; but -things in the outer world are very different from what one imagines -here. I will tell thee no more. Do not question me.” - -“Say at least if I shall see you in this other life.” - -“I know not.” - -“And in this?” - -“Yes, shouldst thou prove worthy.” - -“I will prove worthy. But tell me this much, since you can direct and -counsel those who live in this world, can you not pity them?” - -“I can.” - -“And love them?” - -“I love them all as brothers with whom I have lived.” - -“Love one then above the others. He will perform miracles of courage and -virtue if you will but interest yourself in him.” - -“Let him perform these miracles and he will find me in his thoughts. -Adieu!” - -“Wait one moment! O heaven! One moment! It is said that you bestow a -charmed ring upon those who have not offended you, as a pledge of your -protection and as a means of evoking you. Is this true? And wilt you -give it to me?” - -“Vulgar minds alone believe in magic. Thou couldst never put faith -therein, thou who speakest of eternal life and who seekest divine truth. -By what means could a soul that communicates with thee without the aid -of real organs bestow upon thee a material and palpable object?” - -“Still I see a sparkling ring on your finger.” - -“I cannot perceive what thine eyes behold. What kind of a ring dost thou -see?” - -“A large circle with an emerald in the form of a star, set in gold.” - -“It is strange thou shouldst see that,” said she, after a moment’s -silence. “The involuntary workings of the human mind and the connection -of its dreams with certain past deeds, perchance, include providential -mysteries. The science of these inexplicable things belongs only to the -One who knows the cause and the reason for everything. The hand that -thou thinkest thou dost behold exists only in thine imagination. What is -left of me in the tomb would fill thee with horror; but it may be that -thou seest me such as I was on earth. Tell me how I appear to thee?” - -I know not what enthusiastic picture I drew of her. She seemed to listen -with attention and said: - -“If I resemble this statue, that should not surprise thee for I acted as -its model. Thus thou bringest back to my mind the memory of what I once -was, and even the jewels thou dost describe, I remember having worn. The -ring thou thinkest thou dost see I lost in a room that I occupied in -this chateau. It fell between two stones under the hearth. I intended to -have had the stone raised on the next day, but I died that very day. -Shouldst thou search for it thou mayst perchance find it. In that case, -I give it to thee as a souvenir of me and of the oath thou hast sworn to -obey me. Behold, the day breaks, farewell!” - -This farewell caused me the most acute pain I had ever experienced and I -came near rushing forward once more to seize this shadowy enchantress, -for by degrees I had approached near enough to be within reach of the -hem of her garment, had I dared to touch it, but I had not the courage. -It is true, I had forgotten the threats of the legend against those who -attempted this profanation. I was only held back, powerless, by a -superstitious respect, but a cry of despair broke from my heart and -vibrated even amid the marine shells, held by the tritons of the -fountain. The shadow paused as if withheld by pity. - -“What more dost thou desire?” said she. “Day approaches and I cannot -remain.” - -“Why not, if such is thy will?” - -“I am forbidden to again behold the sun of this earth. I dwell in the -eternal light of a more beautiful world.” - -“Take me with thee to that world. I no longer wish to live in this. I -will not remain here I swear, if I must never see thee more.” - -“Thou shalt see me again, have no fear,” said she. “Await till thou art -worthy and until then, summon me not. I forbid thee. I will watch over -thee like an invisible providence, and when thy soul is as pure as a ray -of morning, I will then appear to thee, simply on the appeal of thy -pious desire. Submit!” - -“Submit!” repeated a solemn voice that resounded at my right. I turned -and beheld one of the phantoms I had already seen in my room, at the -time of the first apparition. - -“Submit!” repeated a voice exactly similar, like an echo, at my left, -and I beheld the second ghost. - -I was not at all affected by this, although there was something -terrifying in the height of these two spectres and in the deep tones of -their voices. But what cared I for the terrible things I might see or -hear? Nothing could snatch me from the ecstasy in which I was plunged. I -did not even stop to look at these accessory shadows; my eyes sought my -celestial beauty. Alas! she had disappeared, and I no longer beheld -aught save the motionless naiad of the fountain, with its passionless -pose and its cold tones of marble rendered blue by the first rays of -morning. - -I know not what became of the sisters; I did not see them disappear. I -went around and around the fountain like a madman. I thought I was -sleeping and I grew bewildered in the confusion of my ideas, hoping that -I would not awake. - -But I remembered the promised ring, and went up to my room, where I -found Baptiste, who spoke to me without my being able to gather the -meaning of his words. He appeared worried, perhaps on account of my -expression, but I never thought of questioning him. I looked at the -hearth and soon observed two disconnected stones, which I endeavored to -raise, but it was too difficult an undertaking without the necessary -tools. - -Baptiste probably thought me mad, and mechanically endeavoring to aid -me— - -“Has monsieur lost anything?” said he. - -“Yes, I let one of my rings fall here yesterday.” - -“A ring! Monsieur has no rings, I have never seen him wear one.” - -“No matter. Let us try to find it.” - -He took a knife and scraped the soft stone, to enlarge the crack, -removed the ashes and powdered cement which filled it up, and while -working thus to please me, he asked me what kind of a ring it was in the -same tone he would have asked me what I had been dreaming about. - -“It is a gold ring with a star formed of a large emerald,” I replied, -with the coolness of certainty. - -He no longer doubted, and detaching a rod from the window curtains, he -bent it in the form of a hook and reached the ring, which he smilingly -presented me. He thought without daring to say so, that it was a gift -from Madame d’Ionis. As for myself, I scarcely looked at it, so sure was -I that it was the same that I had seen on the finger of the ghost; it -was, in fact, exactly like it. I put it on my little finger, never -doubting that it belonged to the defunct demoiselle d’Ionis, or that I -had seen the ghost of that marvelous beauty. - -Baptiste showed a great deal of discretion in his behavior, and when he -left me, made me promise to go to bed. - -You can readily imagine such was far from my thoughts. I seated myself -before the table, from which Baptiste had removed the famous supper of -three loaves, and compelling myself to recall the details of my -transporting vision, some parts of which I feared I might forget, I -began to write a full account thereof, just as you have read it. - -I remained in this state of agitation mingled with ecstasy, till the -rising of the sun. At times I dozed a little, my elbows on the table, -and thought I was again going through my dream; but it ever eluded me, -and Baptiste came and dragged me from the solitude in which I would have -gladly thenceforth have passed my life. - -I arranged it so as to go down stairs, just as they were about to take -their places at the table. I had not yet asked myself how I was to give -an account of the vision; I thought of it while making believe -breakfast, for I ate nothing and without feeling wearied or ill, I -experienced an unconquerable disgust for the functions of animal life. - -The dowager who did not see very well, was not aware of my trouble. I -answered her usual questions with the vagueness of the preceding days, -but this time without acting any comedy, and with the preoccupation of a -poet when questioned stupidly on the subject of his poem, and who gives -evasive and ironical replies to get rid of stultifying investigations. I -do not know if Madame d’Ionis was anxious or surprised to see me thus. I -did not look at her, I did not even see her. I hardly understood what -she was saying to me, during the mortal constraint of this breakfast. - -At last I found myself alone in the library, awaiting her as on previous -days, but without any impatience whatever. Far from it, I felt a lively -satisfaction in sinking into a revery. The weather was admirable; the -sun kissed the trees and the blooming grounds beyond the large masses of -transparent shadows that were projected by the architecture of the -chateau on the nearest flowerbeds. I walked from one end of this vast -hall to the other, stopping each time that I found myself before the -fountain. The windows were closed and the curtains drawn on account of -the heat. These curtains were of a soft shade of blue that I tried to -imagine green, and in this artificial twilight which somewhat recalled -that of my vision, I experienced an incredible sensation of happiness, -and a species of delirious gayety. - -I was talking aloud, and laughing without being aware of any cause, when -I felt some one seize me rather roughly by the arm. I turned around and -saw Madame d’Ionis, who had come in without my observing her. - -“Come, answer me, look at me at least,” said she with some impatience. -“Are you aware that you frighten me, and that I no longer know what to -think of you?” - -“You have your wish,” I answered, “I have tampered with my reason, I -have become insane. But do not reproach yourself on that account; I am -much happier thus, and do not wish to be cured.” - -“So,” said she, scrutinizing me anxiously, “this apparition is not then -an absurd story? At least, you think—you have seen it produced?” - -“Better than I see you at this moment.” - -“Don’t affect such an air of stupid pride—I do not doubt your words. -Tell me all about it quietly.” - -“No, never! I implore you do not question me. I cannot, I do not wish to -answer.” - -“Really the society of ghosts does not seem to agree with you, my dear -sir, and you will make me think that you have heard some singularly -flattering things, for you are as proud and discreet as a fortunate -lover.” - -“Ah! what do you say, madame?” I cried, “No love is possible between two -beings separated by the abyss of a tomb. But you know not of what you -speak, you believe in nothing, you ridicule everything.” - -I was so rude in my enthusiasm, that Madame d’Ionis was rather vexed. - -“There is one thing which I do not ridicule,” said she quickly; “and -that is my law suit, and since you have promised on your honor, to -consult a mysterious oracle and to obey its orders—” - -“Yes,” I replied, taking her hand with a familiarity that was quite out -of place, but so quietly that she was not offended, so well did she -understand the condition of my mind; “yes, madame, you must pardon my -preoccupation and my forgetfulness. It was through devotion to you that -I have played a very dangerous game, and I owe you at least an account -of the result. I have been ordered to carry out my father’s intentions -and make you win your suit.” - -Whether she expected this answer, or whether she doubted my sanity, -Madame d’Ionis showed neither surprise or disappointment. She contented -herself with shrugging her shoulders, and shaking my arm as if to awake -me. - -“My poor child,” said she, “you have been dreaming, that is all. For a -moment I shared your exaltation, I hoped at least that it would bring -you back to the ideas of delicacy and justice that at heart you cherish. -But I know not what exaggerated scruples or what habits of passive -obedience to your father, have caused you to hear such chimerical words. -Shake off these illusions, there have been no ghosts, nor has there been -any mysterious voice, your head was affected by the indigestible perusal -of that old manuscript, and by the abbé Lamyre’s doleful stories. I am -going to explain how it all happened.” - -She talked with me for some time; but my efforts to listen and -understand were in vain. At times it seemed as if she were speaking an -unknown language. When she saw that the words that fell upon my ear were -not communicated to my brain, she grew seriously alarmed about me, felt -my pulse to see if I had any fever, asked me if my head ached, and -begged me to go and lie down. I understood that she gave me permission -to be alone and I gladly ran and threw myself upon my bed, not that I -felt the least fatigue, but because I kept thinking all the time that -could I but sleep, I might again behold the celestial beauty of my -immortal nymph. - -I do not know how the rest of the day passed. I had no knowledge of it. -The next morning I saw Baptiste walking through the room on tip-toe. - -“What are you doing, _mon ami_?” I asked. - -“I am sitting up with you, my dear master,” he replied. “Thank God you -have slept two good hours. You feel better, don’t you?” - -“I feel very well, have I then been ill?” - -“You had a severe attack of fever last evening, and it lasted part of -the night. It was the effect of the great heat. You never think of -putting on your hat when you go in the garden. Yet _madame votre mère_ -gave you so many cautions about it.” - -Zéphyrine entered, asked about me with much interest and made me promise -to take _another_ spoonful of _my_ soothing potion. - -“Very well,” said I, although I had no recollection of this potion, “a -sick guest is an inconvenience and all I ask is to get well quickly.” - -The potion really did me a great deal of good, for I again fell asleep -and dreamed of my immortal nymph. When I opened my eyes, I saw an -apparition at the foot of my bed, which would have charmed me two nights -ago, but which now vexed me like an importunate reproach. It was Madame -d’Ionis, who came herself to see how I was, and to give her personal -supervision to the efforts made in my behalf. She was very friendly, and -showed real interest in me. I thanked her to the best of my ability and -assured her that I was very well. - -Upon this, appeared the solemn head of a physician, who examined my -pulse and my tongue, prescribed rest, and said to Madame d’Ionis: - -“It is nothing. Keep him from reading, writing and talking until -to-morrow and he will then be able to return to his family.” - -Left alone with Baptiste, I questioned him. - -“_Mon Dieu_, Monsieur,” said he, “I don’t exactly know what to say. It -seems that the room where you were is considered haunted.” - -“The room where I was? Where then am I now?” - -I looked around me and recovering from my stupor I at last recognized -that I was not in “_la chambre aux dames_,” but in another apartment of -the chateau. - -“As for me,” continued Baptiste, who was of a very positive temperament. -“I slept in the room and saw nothing. I don’t believe any of these -stories. But, when I heard you tormenting yourself during your fever, -always talking about a beautiful lady who exists and who does not exist, -who is dead and who lives—who knows what you haven’t said about it. It -was all so pretty sometimes that I wished to remember it, or that I knew -how to write it down, in order to preserve it, but it did you harm, and -I decided upon bringing you here, where you are better off. Don’t you -see, Monsieur, that this all comes from writing too many verses? Your -father said rightly that it would turn your brain! You would do better -to think only of your law papers.” - -“Thou art certainly right, my dear Baptiste,” I answered “and I will try -and take thine advice. In fact it does seem as if I had had an attack of -madness.” - -“Of madness? Oh! no indeed, Monsieur. _Dieu merci_. You have wandered a -little in your fever just as it might happen to anyone; but now that it -is all over, if you will take a little chicken broth, your brain will be -as clear as ever.” - -I resigned myself to the chicken broth, although I would have preferred -something more nourishing so as to get well quickly. I was very weak, -but little by little my strength came back during the day, and I was -allowed a light supper. The following day, Madame d’Ionis came again to -see me. I had risen and was feeling quite well. I talked very sensibly -with her about what had happened, without however giving her any details -upon the subject. I had been light-headed, I was much ashamed of it, and -begged her to keep my secret; my position as a lawyer would be lost if I -acquired the reputation of a ghost seer; and it would affect my father -seriously. - -“Fear nothing,” said she; “I will answer for the discretion of my -people; make sure of your valet’s silence, and the story of this -adventure will never leave the place. Besides, even should something of -the kind be told, we would all be perfectly justified in saying that you -had had an attack of fever, and that it pleased these superstitious -souls to interpret it to suit their credulity. And really, this would -only be the truth. You had a sun stroke coming here on horseback on a -scorching day. You were ill during the night. On the following days I -tormented you with this unfortunate law suit, and I stopped at nothing -to bring you over to my way of thinking.” - -She paused, and, in a different tone said: - -“Do you remember what I said to you the day before yesterday in the -library?” - -“I confess that I did not understand, I was under the influence.”—— - -“Of the fever? I saw that very plainly.” - -“Will it please you to repeat to me, now that my head is no longer -affected, what you were saying about apparitions?” - -Madame d’Ionis hesitated. - -“Has your memory preserved the idea of this apparition?” said she -carelessly, but examining me rather anxiously. - -“No,” I replied, “it is very confused now, confused as a dream of which -one is still conscious, but no longer cares to remember.” - -I lied boldly, Madame d’Ionis was deceived, and I saw that she also was -lying, when she pretended having spoken to me in the library only about -the effect of the manuscript, in order to blame herself for having lent -it to me at a time when I was already greatly agitated. It was evident -that through fear caused by my mental condition, she had on that evening -said certain things, that she was very glad now I had not understood, -but I could not imagine what they might be. She saw I was quite -confused, so she believed me cured. I talked very decidedly about my -vision as though it were the effect of a high fever. She made me promise -to think no more of it, and never to torment myself about it. - -“Don’t go and think yourself more weak-minded than other people; there -is no one in the world who has not had their hours of delirium. Remain -with us two or three days longer, no matter what the doctor says. I do -not like to send you back to your parents, so weak and pale. We will say -nothing more about the suit, it is useless; I will go and see your -father and talk it over with him; without worrying you any more about -it.” - -By evening I was already cured, and I tried to get into my old room, it -was shut up. I risked asking Zéphyrine for the key, who replied that it -had been given to Madame d’Ionis. They did not wish to put anyone there, -until the recently unearthed legend had again been buried in oblivion. - -I pretended that I had forgotten something in the room. They had to -yield. Zéphyrine went after the key and entered the room with me. I -searched everywhere without saying what I was looking for. I examined -the hearth and saw the fresh scratches on the disjointed stones, that -Baptiste had left there with his knife. But what did this prove, save -that in my madness I had caused a search for an object that existed only -in the memory of a dream? I had thought that I had found a ring and had -put it on my finger. It was there no longer, without doubt it had never -been there! - -I did not even dare to question Baptiste on this subject. They did not -leave me one moment alone in the ladies’ room, and they shut it up -again, as soon as I went out. I felt that there was nothing to keep me -at the chateau d’Ionis, and I left by stealth the next morning so as to -avoid the drive in a carriage with which they had threatened me. - -The horse and the fresh air quite set me up again. I galloped rapidly -through the woods that surrounded the chateau, fearing that I might be -pursued by the solicitude of my beautiful hostess. I slackened my pace -when two leagues distant, and arrived quietly at Angers during the -afternoon. - -My face was a little changed; my father did not notice it much, but -nothing escapes a mother’s eye, and it worried mine. I succeeded in -quieting her by eating with an appetite; I had compelled Baptiste to -give me his word that he would not say anything; he had made it a -condition however that he would not feel bound, should I chance to fall -ill again. - -But I took good care not to do so; I watched over my physical and moral -welfare like a youth bent upon the preservation of his existence. I -worked, but not too much; I took walks regularly, I dwelt upon no -mournful ideas, I abstained from all reading of an exciting nature. The -reason for all this had its source in an obstinate but tranquil mania -and, so to speak, ’twas mistress of itself. I wanted to prove to my own -judgment that I neither had been nor now was out of my mind, and that -there was nothing more certain, in my opinion, than the existence of the -green ladies. I also wished to restore my mind to that state of -clearness necessary to conceal my secret and to nourish it internally as -the source of my intellectual life and the criterion of my moral -existence. - -Every trace of the crisis then rapidly disappeared, and seeing me -studious, reasonable and moderate in all things, it would have been -impossible to guess that I was under the dominion of a fixed idea, of a -well regulated monomania. - -Three days after my return to Angers, my father sent me to Tours on some -other business. I spent twenty-four hours there, and when I returned -home, I learned that Madame d’Ionis had been there to have an -understanding with my father about the consequences of her law suit. She -had appeared to yield to positive reason; she had consented to gain it. - -I was glad that I had not met her. It would be impossible to say that so -charming a woman had become repugnant to me, but it is certain that I -feared more than I desired her presence. Her scepticism, which she -appeared to have renounced one day only to overwhelm me with it on the -next, had produced an injurious effect upon me, and had caused me -inexpressible suffering. - -At the end of two months, notwithstanding all the efforts I made to -appear happy, my mother discovered the terrible sadness that permeated -my mind. Everyone observed a great change for the better in me, and at -first she was pleased with it. My manner of life was altogether austere, -and my language as grave and sensible as that of an old magistrate. -Without being devout, I professed to be religious. I no longer -scandalized simple people by my voltairianism. I judged everything -impartially and criticised without bitterness those of whom I did not -approve. All this was edifying, excellent; but I had no taste for -anything, and I bore my life as if it were a burden. I was no longer -young, I experienced no more the ecstasy of enthusiasm or the -allurements of gayety. - -I had time then, notwithstanding my important occupations to write -verses, and I would have made time in any case, even had none been -allowed me, for I hardly slept any more and I sought none of those -amusements that absorb three quarters of a young man’s life. I no longer -thought of love, I fled from the world, I ceased to parade myself with -men of my age before the eyes of the beautiful ladies of the land. I was -retiring, meditative, austere, very gentle with my own people, very -modest with everybody, very ardent in legal discussions. Thus I was -esteemed an accomplished young man, but I was thoroughly unhappy. - -And it was because I nourished with a strange stoicism, an insane -passion without its parallel. I was in love with a ghost, I could not -even say with a dead woman. All my historical researches resolved -themselves into this. The three demoiselles d’Ionis had possibly never -existed save in legend. Their history, fixed by the latest chroniclers -at the period of Henri II, was already old and uncertain, even at that -date. No evidence of them remained: no title, name or crest among the -d’Ionis family papers that my father happened to have in his possession -on account of the suit, not even a tombstone in any part of the country. - -I was thus worshipping a pure fiction, engendered, to all appearance in -the vapors of my brain. But this was precisely what I failed to be -convinced of. I had seen and heard this marvel of beauty; she existed in -a region that it was impossible for me to attain, but from which it was -possible for her to descend to me. To solve the problem of this -indefinable existence, and the mystery of the tie that bound us would -have rendered me insane. I was conscious of the fact, I wished to -explain nothing, to fathom nothing; I lived upon faith, which is “the -evidence of things not seen,” a sublime madness, if reason is only to be -proved by the evidence of the senses. - -My madness was not so puerile as might have been feared. I nursed it as -a superior faculty and did not allow it to descend from the heights upon -which I had enthroned it. Thus I abstained from another evocation, lest -I should lose myself in the cabalistic pursuit of some chimera unworthy -of me. The immortal maiden had said that “I must become worthy, if she -were to live in my thoughts.” She had not promised to reappear in the -same form as I had seen her. She had said that this form did not exist -and was but the product of my imagination caused by the elevation of my -feelings towards her. I ought not then to torment my brain to reproduce -her, for it might misrepresent her and cause some other image to -obliterate her own. I wished to purify my life and cultivate the -treasure of conscience, in the hope, that at some given time, this -celestial figure would come to me of her own accord and talk to me in -those cherished tones that through my unworthiness had been vouchsafed -me for so short a time. - -Under the influence of this mania, I was in the way of becoming a good -man, and it was rather odd that I should be led to wisdom through -madness. But all this was too subtle and too tense for human nature. -This rupture of my soul with the rest of my being, and of my life with -the temptations of youth, was gradually leading me on to despair, -perhaps even to insanity. - -So far I was only melancholy, and although very pale and very thin, I -did not appear to be ill either physically or mentally when the turn -came for the hearing of the case of d’Ionis versus d’Aillane. My father -instructed me to prepare my speech for the following week. It was now -about three months since I had left, on a morning in June for the fatal -chateau d’Ionis. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE DUEL. - - -The more time and attention we bestowed upon this unhappy suit, the more -fully convinced were my father and myself that it was impossible to lose -it. Two wills were brought forward in evidence; one of which five years -previous had been duly attested, signed and sealed, was in favor of M. -d’Aillane. Being in straitened circumstanced at this period, he had -escaped from his difficulties by a sale of the real estate which he -regarded as his own. The other will, discovered three years afterwards, -by one of those strange chances which causes it to be said that life -resembles a romance, suddenly impoverished the d’Aillanes to enrich -Madame d’Ionis. The validity of this last deed was incontestable; the -date, later than that of the first one was clear and precise. M. -d’Aillane pleaded the childish condition of the testator and the nature -of the pressure M. d’Ionis had brought to bear upon him in his last -hours. This latter argument was sufficiently apparent; but the condition -of dotage could not be proved in any manner whatever. - -Besides, M. d’Ionis assumed, rightly, that d’Aillane, pressed by his -creditors, had ceded the property to them for less than its real value, -and he demanded what was for them a very considerable sum, since it -represented the last wreck of his adversaries’ fortune. - -M. d’Aillane did not expect to succeed. He was conscious that his case -was a weak one; but he was bent upon clearing himself from the -accusation brought against him, of having known or even suspected the -existence of a second will, of having engaged the person with whom it -was deposited to keep it concealed for three years, and of having -hastened to utilize the inheritance so as to practically escape from the -consequences of the future. There had been besides a discussion upon the -real value of the property, exaggerated more or less by the two parties -in the debates, previous to my father’s intervention in the suit. - -My father and I were discussing this last point and were not quite of -the same opinion, when Baptiste announced M. d’Aillane, the son, captain -of the —— regiment. - -Bernard d’Aillane was a handsome young man of about my age, proud, -sensitive, and very outspoken. He expressed himself very politely, -appealing to our honor, as one who recognized our strict observance -thereof, but towards the close of his exordium, carried away by his -natural vivacity, he distinctly threatened me, in case I should, in the -course of my speech, chance to express any doubt of his father’s perfect -loyalty. - -My father was more disturbed by this challenge than I, and a lawyer at -heart, he expressed his indignation in words. I saw that a quarrel was -likely to result from a project of reconciliation, and I begged the two -speakers to listen to me. - -“Permit me, father,” said I, “to call M. d’Aillane’s attention to the -fact that he has just committed a serious imprudence, and that, if I -were not, thanks to my profession, of a cooler temperament than himself, -I would take pleasure in provoking his anger, and in making use of every -argument that my case might require.” - -“What do you say,” cried my father, who in his heart was the most -amiable of men, but easily carried away in the exercise of his duties, -“I sincerely trust, my son, that you will use every argument, and if -there is the least occasion in the world to suspect the good faith of -our adversaries, it is neither M. le Capitaine d’Aillane’s little -moustache and little sword, or his father’s great moustache and large -sword that will prevent you from proclaiming it.” - -Young d’Aillane was perfectly infuriated, and being unable to vent his -rage upon a man of my father’s age, he was strongly tempted to vent it -upon me. He made some very bitter remarks to me, of which I took no -notice, and, continuing to address my father, I answered: - -“You are perfectly right in believing that I will not allow myself to be -intimidated; but we must pardon M. d’Aillane for having entertained such -an idea. Were I to find myself in a similar situation, and your honor in -question, reflect, my dear father, that I would not be any more polite -or reasonable than necessity required. Have some consideration then for -his anxiety, and since we cannot relieve it, do not let us be so harsh -as to add to it unnecessarily. I have examined the affair sufficiently -to be convinced myself of the extreme delicacy of the entire d’Aillane -family, and I shall consider it as much of a pleasure as of a duty to -acknowledge this on all occasions.” - -“That is all I wanted, monsieur,” cried the young man, grasping my -hands, “and now go on and gain your suit, we ask nothing better.” - -“One moment, one moment,” replied my father, with the same spirit he -showed in his discussions in court. “I do not know exactly, my son, what -your ideas about this perfect loyalty may be, but as for myself, if I -find circumstances in the history of this affair where it is manifest, -there are others that seem suspicious to me, and I beg of you to promise -nothing, before weighing the objections that I was engaged in submitting -to you when monsieur honored us with his visit.” - -“Allow me, my dear father,” I replied with firmness, “to inform you that -slight appearances will not be sufficient to make me share your doubts. -Without considering M. le comte d’Aillane’s well-established reputation, -I have the evidence of certain testimony in his favor.” - -I paused, while reflecting that this testimony of my sublime and -mysterious friend, was something I would be unable to bring forward -without being laughed at. It was nevertheless so serious a consideration -with me, that nothing in the world, not even apparent facts, could make -me doubt it. - -“I know of what testimony you speak,” said my father, “Madame d’Ionis -has a great affection——.” - -“I hardly know Madame d’Ionis!” interrupted young d’Aillane quickly. - -“And I am not speaking of you, monsieur,” my father smilingly replied. -“I am speaking of Count d’Aillane and of mademoiselle his daughter.” - -“And I, father,” said I, in my turn, “I was not speaking of Madame -d’Ionis.” - -“May one ask,” said young d’Aillane, “the name of the person who has had -this fortunate influence over you, so that I may know to whom I owe my -gratitude?” - -“With your permission, monsieur, I would prefer not to tell you, this is -something that concerns myself alone.” - -The young captain begged my pardon for being so indiscreet, took leave -of my father rather coldly, and retired, expressing his gratitude to me -for my good will. - -I followed him to the street door, as if out of politeness. There he -again gave me his hand; this time I withdrew mine and begged him to come -for one moment into my room which opened on to the vestibule. I once -more declared that I was convinced of the nobility of his father’s -sentiments, and thoroughly determined not to cast the slightest -aspersion on the honor of his family. After which I said: - -“As this matter is settled, monsieur, you will permit me to ask you why -you should have insulted me, by doubting my pride so far as to threaten -me with your resentment. If I have not done so before my father, who -seemed to urge me on, it was because I knew that when his feeling of -anger will have passed away, he would consider himself the most -unfortunate of men. I have also a very tender mother, and for this -reason I ask you to keep our explanation here a secret. Charged with the -interests of Madame d’Ionis, I plead her cause to-morrow; I beg of you -then, to grant on the following day, after leaving the palace, the -meeting that I now ask of you.” - -“No, _parbleu_! I will do nothing of the kind,” cried the young man, -throwing his arms around my neck. “I haven’t the least desire to kill a -fellow who has shown so much feeling and justice towards me. I was -wrong, I acted without reason, and I am now quite ready to beg your -pardon.” - -“That is altogether useless, monsieur, for you were forgiven before. In -my position, one is exposed to such offenses, and they do not affect an -honest man, but there is none the less necessity for me to fight you.” - -“_Oui—da! Et pourquoi diable_, after having begged your pardon?” - -“Because that has been done in private, and your visit has been public. -There is your horse pawing the ground at our door, and your soldier in -uniform, attracting the attention of everyone. You know very well what a -little provincial town is. In one hour from now, all the world will know -that a brilliant officer has been here to threaten a little lawyer, who -is conducting a suit against him, and you may be pretty sure that, -to-morrow, when I shall have observed for you and yours all the -consideration I look upon as your due, more than one malicious soul will -accuse me of being afraid of you, and will laugh at the contemptible -figure I will cut beside you. I resign myself to this humiliation, but -this duty accomplished, I will have another to fulfill which will be to -prove that I am no coward, unworthy of practicing an honorable -profession, and capable of betraying the confidence of my clients -through fear of a sword thrust. Consider that I am very young, monsieur, -that I have a character to establish, now or never.” - -“You make me realize my mistake,” answered M. d’Aillane. “I did not -appreciate the importance of my behavior, and I owe you a formal avowal -in public.” - -“It will be too late, after my speech, they will always believe that I -have yielded to fear; and it will be too soon before; they might think -that you feared my revelations.” - -“Then I see there is no way out of this difficulty, and that all I can -do for you, is to give you the satisfaction that you require. Depend -upon my word and my silence. On leaving the palace to-morrow, you will -find me at whatever place you may appoint.” - -We made our arrangements. After which the young officer observed with a -mournful and affectionate air: - -“This is a bad piece of business for me, monsieur, for should I be so -unfortunate as to kill you, I believe I would then kill myself for -having placed a man of so much feeling as yourself in a position, where -he must of necessity stake his life against mine. God grant that the -result may not prove too serious. It will be a lesson for me. And -meanwhile, whatever happens, bear in mind my repentance, and do not have -too poor an opinion of me. It is too true that the world brings us up -badly, we young men of family. We forget that the _bourgeoisie_ is as -good as we are, and that the time has come to recognize this fact. Come, -give me your hand now, while we prepare to cut each other’s throats!” - -Madame d’Ionis was to come to town the next day to be present at the -trial. I had received several very friendly letters from her in which -she no longer strove to influence my sense of duty as a lawyer, and in -which she contented herself with advising me to respect the honor of her -relatives, who could not, she said, be despised or offended without -reflecting disgrace upon herself. It was easy to see that she counted -upon her presence to restrain me, in case I should be carried away by -oratorical fervor. - -She was mistaken in thinking that she exercised any power over me. I was -now governed by a higher influence, by a souvenir of an altogether -different nature than her own. - -Again I conversed with my father in the evening and prevailed upon him -to leave me at liberty to take my own view of the moral side of the -affair. He bade me good-night, saying at the same time in rather a -reproving tone, which I understood no more than I did his words: - -“My dear child, have a care. Madame d’Ionis is thine oracle I know, but -I greatly fear that she is only making use of thee to advance the -interests of another.” And as he observed my astonishment, he added: - -“We will talk that over later on. Think only of acquitting thyself well -to-morrow, and of doing honor to thy father.” - -Just as I was getting into bed, I was surprised to see a bow of green -ribbon pinned to my pillow. I took it up and felt that it contained a -ring; it was the emerald star which I remembered but as a feverish -dream. This mysterious ring really existed then; it had been given back -to me. - -I put it on my finger and touched it a hundred times to assure myself -that I was not the victim of an illusion; then I took it off and -examined it with a care which I had not been equal to in the Castle of -Ionis, and there deciphered this device in very ancient characters: - -“Thy life belongs to me alone.” - -Was it a command for me not to fight? Was the immortal nymph still -unwilling for me to rejoin her? This was a great blow to me, for I was -consumed with a thirst for death, and I had hoped that circumstances -would authorize me to rid myself of life without being either rebellious -or cowardly. - -I rang for Baptiste whom I could still hear walking around the house. - -“Come,” said I, “thou must tell me the truth, _mon ami_, for thou art an -honest man, and my reason is in thy hands. Who has been here this -evening? Who has put this ring in my room, on my pillow?” - -“What ring, monsieur? I have seen no ring.” - -“But don’t you see it now? Isn’t it on my finger? Haven’t you already -seen it at the château d’Ionis?” - -“Certainly, monsieur, I see it and recognize it perfectly. It is the -same one that you lost over there and that I found between two tiles; -but I swear upon my honor, that I don’t know how it came here, and when -I turned down your bed I saw nothing on your pillow.” - -“Perhaps thou canst tell me one thing at least, that I have never dared -to ask thee since that fever that made me delirious for several hours. -Who was it that took this ring away from me at the castle d’Ionis?” - -“I know no more than you, monsieur. Seeing that it was not on your -finger I thought you had hidden it—so that you might not compromise——.” - -“Whom? Explain thyself.” - -“_Dame_, monsieur; did not Madame d’Ionis give it to you?” - -“Certainly not.” - -“To be sure, monsieur is not bound to tell me. But it must be she who -sent it back to you.” - -“Hast thou seen any one from her house here to-day?” - -“No, sir, no one. But whoever carried out the directions, nevertheless, -knows the ways of the house.” - -As I saw that I would gain nothing by the examination of material -things, I bade Baptiste good-night and gave myself up to my accustomed -reveries. This affair could no longer be explained naturally. This ring -contained the secret of my destiny. I was grieved to disobey my immortal -nymph, and at the same time I was happy in thinking that she was keeping -her promise of watching over me. - -I did not close my eyes that night. My poor head was sick as well as my -heart. Ought I to disobey the arbitress of my destiny? Ought I to -sacrifice my honor to her? I was too much involved with M. d’Aillane to -retract my words. At times I entertained the thought of suicide so that -I might escape from the torment of an existence which I no longer -understood, and then I comforted myself with the idea that this terrible -and delightful device—“Thy life belongs to me alone”—did not have the -same meaning that I had at first supposed, and I resolved to pay no -attention to it, persuading myself that the maiden would appear to me at -the place of meeting, if she wished to prevent it. - -But why did she not now appear to me in person if she wished to put an -end to my perplexities? I called upon her with the ardor of despair. - -“The trial is too long and too cruel,” said I, “it will cost me my life -and my reason. If I must live for thee, if I belong to thee——.” - -A loud rapping at the street door made me tremble. It was not yet -daylight. I was the only one in the house awake. I dressed myself -hurriedly. A second knock was heard, then came a third, just as I rushed -into the vestibule. - -I opened the door all in a tremble. I know not what connection there was -in my mind between this nocturnal visit and the cause of my anguish; but -whoever the visitor might be, I had a presentiment that all would now be -satisfactorily arranged. And such proved to be the case, although I -could not then understand the connection with subsequent events that -were soon to extricate me from my position. - -The visitor was one of Madame d’Ionis’ servants who came post haste with -a letter for my father or for myself, as it was addressed to both. - -While they were getting up in the house to answer the summons, I read -the following: “Stop the law suit. I have this moment received and now -transmit to you a serious piece of news which releases you from your -engagements with M. d’Ionis. He is no more. You will receive the -official tidings during the day.” - -I carried the letter to my father. - -“_À la bonne heure_!” said he. “This is a fortunate piece of business -for our beautiful client, if this disagreeable dead man does not leave -her too many debts; a fortunate thing, too, for the d’Aillanes. The -court will lose the opportunity of rendering a fine judgment, and thou -that of making a fine speech. Come—let us go to sleep again, since there -is nothing better to do.” - -He turned over towards the wall; then called me back as I was leaving -the room. - -“My dear child,” said he, “one thing worries my mind, and that is if you -are in love with Madame d’Ionis, and if she is left penniless”—— - -“No, no, father,” I cried, “I am not in love with Madame d’Ionis.” - -“But you have been? Come, speak the truth, and that is the cause of this -change for the better in thee. The ambitious tastes which thou hast -developed and the melancholy which worries thy mother so much.”—— - -“Certainly,” said my mother, who had been awakened by the knocking at -such an unaccustomed hour, and who came into the room in her nightcap -while we were talking, “be sincere now, my dear son. You love this -beautiful lady and I even think you are beloved by her? Well then, -confess to your parents.” - -“I am perfectly willing to confess,” I replied, kissing my mother. “I -was in love with Madame d’Ionis for two days; but I was cured on the -third day.” - -“Upon your honor?” said my father. - -“Upon my honor.” - -“And the reason for this change?” - -“Do not ask me, I cannot tell you.” - -“I know the reason,” said my father, laughing and yawning at the same -time, “it is because little Madam d’Ionis and this handsome cousin ‘who -doesn’t know her.’ But this is no time for gossip upon such subjects. It -is only five o’clock, and since my son will neither make love or make -speeches to-day, I intend to sleep all the morning.” - -Relieved from anxiety concerning the duel, I took a little rest. During -the day, the news of M. d’Ionis’ decease, which took place at Vienna -fifteen days before (news did not travel so quickly then as now), was -published in the city, and the suit suspended in view of a speedy -arrangement between the parties concerned. - -In the evening we received a visit from young d’Aillane. He came to beg -my father’s pardon, and this time I granted it gladly. Notwithstanding -the serious manner in which he spoke of M. d’Ionis’ death, we could -easily see that he concealed his joy with difficulty. He took supper -with us; after which he followed me into my room. - -“My dear friend,” said he, “for you must allow me to call you such -henceforth, I would like to unburden my heart to you, which overflows in -spite of myself. You do not consider me so interested, I hope, as to -think I am so wild with joy, over the close of this suit. The secret of -my happiness”—— - -“Don’t speak of it,” said I, “we know it, we have guessed it.” - -“And why should I not speak of it to you, who deserve so much esteem and -inspire so much affection? Do not think that you are a stranger to me. -It is now three months since I have been giving an account of all your -actions and your successes to”—— - -“To whom, pray?” - -“To Madame d’Ionis. She was very anxious about you for some time after -your stay at her house. To such an extent that I became jealous. She -reassured me on that point, however, by explaining to me that you were -seriously ill there for twenty-four hours.” - -“Then,” said I, with some anxiety, “as she has no secrets from you, she -must have told you the cause of those hours of delirium?” - -“Yes, don’t worry yourself about it; she has told me everything, and -without either of us thinking of making light of it. On the contrary, we -were very sad over it, and Madame d’Ionis reproached herself for -allowing you to tamper with certain ideas of a dangerous nature. All -that I know about it myself, is that though I may swear like a trooper -that I do not believe in the green ladies, I would never have had -sufficient courage to summon them a second time. And, besides, if they -had appeared I would have certainly broken everything in the room, and -you whom I so stupidly irritated yesterday, your bravery, as regards -supernatural affairs, far excels my curiosity.” - -This amiable youth, who was then on leave of absence came to see me -every day, and we soon grew very intimate. He could not show himself yet -at the château d’Ionis, and he awaited with impatience the time when his -beloved and beautiful cousin would permit him to present himself, after -she had consecrated the first period of mourning, _aux convenances_. He -would have preferred taking up his abode in some town nearer her -residence, but she had forbidden him to do so in due form, unwilling to -rely upon the prudence of a _fiancé_ so much in love. - -Besides, he said that he had business at Angers, although he could not -explain what it was, and he did not appear to interest himself much in -it, as he passed all his time with me. - -He told me all about his love affair with Madame d’Ionis. They had been -destined for each other and their love had been mutual from infancy. -Caroline had been sacrificed to ambition and placed in a convent to -break up their intimacy. They had seen each other secretly before and -since her marriage with M. d’Ionis. The young captain did not consider -himself bound to make any mystery of it, as their relations had been -always of a perfectly pure nature. - -“Had it been otherwise,” said he, “I would not be quite so confiding.” - -His confidences, which I had at first repelled, ended by winning me -over. His was one of those frank and open natures which no one could -resist. He questioned me persistently, and seemed to understand the art -of doing so without appearing either curious or importunate. You could -not help feeling that he was really interested in you, and that he -wished those whom he loved to be as happy as himself. - -I allowed myself then to go as far as to tell him the whole of my story, -and even to confess the strange passion that dominated me. He listened -to me very seriously and assured me he saw nothing absurd in my love. -Instead of trying to make me forget it, he advised me to complete the -task I had set myself of becoming a good and worthy man. - -“When you have accomplished this,” said he, “either some miracle will -happen to you, or rather your mind, no longer perturbed, will recognize -that it has wandered in pursuit of some sweet chimera; some still -sweeter reality will then replace it, and your virtues as well as your -talents will none the less prove blessings of inestimable value.” - -“Never,” I replied, “I will never love another than the heroine of my -dream.” - -And in order to prove to him how all my thoughts were absorbed, I showed -him the verses and prose that I had written under the empire of this -exclusive passion. He read and reread them with the frank enthusiasm of -friendship. Had I been willing to accept his decision, I would have -thought myself a great poet. He soon knew the best pieces in my -collection by heart, and recited them to me with fervor, in our walks to -the old castle of Angers and in the charming environs of the city. I -resisted his desire that they should be printed. I could make verses for -my own pleasure and for the relief of my troubled soul, but it would not -answer for me to seek the renown of a poet. At that period, and among -the people with whom I lived, it would have cast great discredit upon my -profession. - -At last the day came when he was allowed to make his appearance at the -château d’Ionis, which Caroline had never left during the three months -of her widowhood. He received a letter from her and read me the -postscript. I was invited to accompany him in terms at once ceremonious -and affectionate. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - CONCLUSION. - - -We reached our destination on an evening in December. The ground was -covered with snow, and the sun was setting in superbly shaded violet -clouds, but with an air of melancholy. I did not wish to interfere with -the first effusions of two lovers’ hearts, and so ordered Bernard to -precede me to the château. Besides, I needed the sole companionship of -my thoughts for the first few moments. It was not without a great -emotion that I again beheld the spot where I had lived centuries in the -space of three days. - -I threw Baptiste the reins of my horse, and he proceeded towards the -stables, while I went in alone through one of the small doors of the -park. - -This beautiful spot, stripped of its flowers and verdure, had now a -grander character. From the sombre pines, frosty showers fell upon my -head, and the branches of the old lindens, clad in ice formed delicate -arcades of crystal, above the arbor of the alleys. One might have -thought them the naves of a gigantic cathedral offering all the caprices -of an unknown and fantastic architecture. But I again found Spring in -the rotunda of the library. They had separated it from the contiguous -galleries by fitting the arches with glass windows, so as to make a sort -of temperate hothouse. The waters of the fountain still murmured amid -exotics that were even more beautiful than those I had seen before, and -this flowing water, whilst without all sources slept enchained in ice, -delighted alike the eye and ear. - -It was with some difficulty that I decided to look at the Naiad. I found -her less beautiful than the memory left me of her whose form and -features she recalled. Then, gradually, I began to admire and love it, -as one cherishes a portrait which in general appearance and in some of -the features at least, resembles a beloved one. My feelings had been -contained and over excited for so long a time that I burst into tears -and, overwhelmed with emotion, remained seated on the spot where I had -beheld one whom I no longer hoped to see. - -The sound of a silken robe caused me to raise my head, and I saw before -me a very tall and slender woman, but of most graceful mien, who -regarded me anxiously. For an instant I confounded her with my vision, -but the darkness which was rapidly advancing prevented me from clearly -distinguishing her face, and besides a woman in panniers and furbelows -so little resembles a nymph of the renaissance, that my illusions were -quickly dispelled, and I arose to salute her simply as a mortal. - -She also bowed, hesitated for an instant to address me, then decided to -do so, and I trembled at the sound of her voice which penetrated to the -very core of my being. ’Twas the silvery voice, the voice without its -equal upon earth, of the divinity. And I was dumb and incapable of -replying. As when in the presence of my immortal nymph, I was too -bewildered to understand what she was saying. - -She seemed greatly embarrassed by my silence, and I made an effort to -shake off this absurd stupor. She asked me if I were not M. Just -Nivières. - -“Yes, madame,” I at last answered. “I beg of you to pardon my -preoccupation. I was a little indisposed, I was dozing.” - -“No,” replied she with adorable sweetness, “you were weeping! That was -what drew me here from the gallery where I was awaiting the signal of my -brother’s arrival.” - -“Your brother?” - -“Yes, your friend, Bernard d’Aillane.” - -“So you are Mademoiselle d’Aillane?” - -“Félicie d’Aillane, and I dare affirm your friend also, although you do -not know me and I am seeing you for the first time. But the high opinion -my brother has of you and all that he has written about you have caused -me to feel a sincere interest in you. So it was with real sorrow and -anxiety that I heard you sobbing. _Mon dieu!_ I hope that you are not -grieving over any family affliction; if your worthy parents of whom I -have also heard so much good, were in trouble, you would not be here.” - -“Thank God,” I replied, “I have no cause to distress myself about any of -those dear to me, and the personal grief that I experienced just now was -dispelled by the sound of your voice, by the sweet words you have -spoken. But how does it happen that having such a sister as you, Bernard -should never have mentioned it?” - -“Bernard is absorbed by an affection of which I am not in the least -jealous, and that I very well understand, for madame is a tender sister -to me. But did you not come with him, and how is it that I find you here -alone and unannounced?” - -“Bernard went on before me.” - -“Ah! I understand. Well, let us leave them together a little longer; -they have so much to say to each other, and their attachment is so -noble, so fraternal, and of such long standing. But come by the fire in -the library, for it is rather chilly here.” - -I saw that she did not think it proper to remain with me in the dark, -and I followed her regretfully. I feared to see her face, for her voice -deluded me into the belief that my immortal nymph was stopping to -converse in common language with me, on details that concerned the world -of the living. - -There was a fire and light in the library, and I could then see her -features, which were marvelously beautiful and which in a vague fashion -recalled those that I had thought well fixed in my mind. But while -scrutinizing them as closely as politeness would permit, I realized that -the three images of the Naiad, the phantom and that of Mademoiselle -d’Aillane were so confused in my mind, that it was impossible for me to -separate them so as to render to each one the admiration that was its -due. It was the same type, of that I was very sure; but I could no -longer decide what constituted the difference, and I perceived with fear -this uncertainty of my memory in regard to the sublime apparition. I had -brooded over it too much. I had put too much faith in seeing it again. -It no longer appeared to me save through a cloud. - -And then, after several moments, I forgot my anguish in the sole -contemplation of Mademoiselle d’Aillane, beautiful as the purest and -most elegant of Diana’s nymphs, and as frankly affectionate with me as a -child who confides in a sympathetic face. There was, so to speak, a -shining purity about her, an adorable expansion of heart without the -least thought of coquetry; and no trace whatever of the always rather -reserved manners that a young girl of quality was in the habit of -observing when conversing with a _bourgeois_. It seemed as if I were a -relative, a friend of her childhood with whom she was renewing her -acquaintance after a separation of several years. Her limpid gaze was -not at all like the concentrated fire of Madame d’Ionis. It was a serene -light like that of the stars. Impressionable and nervous as I had become -in consequence of so many exciting vigils, I felt rejuvenated, rested, -and deliciously refreshed under this benign influence. She conversed -without art, and without pretention, but with a natural distinction and -clearness of judgment which evinced a moral education far above what was -then regarded as sufficient for women of her rank. She had none of their -prejudices, and it was with angelic good faith and even with a certain -generous childish enthusiasm that she accepted the conquests of the -philosophical mind that was drawing us, without our knowledge, towards a -new era. - -But above all she possessed an irresistible charm of sweetness, and I at -once succumbed to its influence without a struggle. Without remembering -that in the secrecy of my soul, I had pronounced a sort of monastic vow -which consecrated me to the worship of an impalpable ideal. - -She spoke openly of the joys and sorrows of her family, of the part that -I had played in the events of these latter days, and of the gratitude -that she considered she owed me for the way in which I had spoken to -Bernard of her father’s honor. - -“Since you know all these things then, you ought to appreciate all it -has cost me to take sides against you.” - -“I know everything,” said she, “even about the duel that you came near -having with my brother. _Hélas!_ he was entirely in the wrong, but he is -of a nature that rises after committing a mistake, and his esteem for -you dates from that time. My father, whose affairs have kept him in -Paris all this time, will soon be here, and longs to tell you that -henceforth he looks on you as one of his own children. You will like -him, I am sure; he is a man of superior mind and of corresponding -character.” - -As she spoke thus, the noise of a carriage and the barking of dogs -without caused her to start from her chair. - -“It is he!” she cried, “I will wager it is he who is coming! Come with -me to meet him.” - -I followed her, much excited. She had put the candlestick in my hand and -had run before me, so slight and lissome was she, that no sculptor could -have conceived a purer ideal of nymph or goddess. I was already -accustomed to seeing this ideal creature, costumed in the fashion of the -day. Besides her toilette was of an exquisite taste and simplicity. I -fancied I could even trace a symbolical resemblance in the color of her -changeable silk dress, which was creamy white, with shadows of delicate -green. - -“Here is M. Nivières,” said she, presenting me to her father, when she -had joyfully embraced him. - -“Ah, ah!” he replied in a tone that seemed strange to me, and that would -have troubled me, had he not at once come towards me, stretching out -both hands with a cordiality no less surprising, “do not be astonished -at my pleasure in seeing you, you are the friend of my son, consequently -my own, and I know your value through him.” - -Madame d’Ionis and Bernard now ran forward; I found Caroline beautified -by happiness. Some moments afterwards we all met again at the table, -with the abbé Lamyre, who had arrived that morning, and the good -Zéphyrine, who had closed the eyes of the dowager d’Ionis several weeks -before, and who wore mourning like everyone else in the house. The -d’Aillanes not being related to the d’Ionis, except by marriage, could -dispense with a formality that would have seemed only an act of -hypocrisy on their part. - -The supper was not lively. They were forced to abstain from gayety and -expansiveness before the servants, and Madame d’Ionis realized so well -the exigencies of her situation, that she restrained herself without -effort and kept her guests up to the same pitch. The hardest person to -silence was the abbé Lamyre; he could not resist his habit of humming -two or three couplets, in the style of a philosophical _résumé_, during -the conversation. - -Notwithstanding this sort of constraint, joy and love were in the air of -this household, where no one could reasonably regret M. d’Ionis, and -where the contracted ideas, and shallowness of the dowager’s heart had -left a very small vacancy. We inhaled a perfume of hope and of delicate -tenderness which penetrated my very soul, and which I wondered did not -sadden me—I, who was betrothed to eternal solitude. - -It was true that since my intimacy with Bernard I had made rapid strides -towards recovery. His character was so enterprising that, in spite of -myself, he had snatched me from my mournful reflections; and in -possessing himself of my secret he had also released me from the fatal -influence which was drawing me to a separation from all other ties. - -“A secret without a confidant is a mortal illness,” he had said, and he -had listened to all my vagaries, without appearing to perceive my -madness; sometimes he had seemed to share it, sometimes he had -skillfully suggested doubts that had won me over to his way of thinking. -I had come to think, a greater part of the time, that were it not for -the inexplicable fact of the ring, my imagination alone was responsible -for all my fantastic adventures. - -I found in M. d’Aillane all the superiority of heart and mind that his -children had spoken of. He evinced a sympathy for me, to which I -responded with all my soul. - -We separated as late as possible. As for myself, when twelve o’clock -struck and Madame d’Ionis gave the signal for a general good evening, I -experienced a sensation of grief as if I had fallen from delicious -dreams into sombre reality. I had for so long a time reversed the order -of life, regarding it as a dream, and dreams as waking, that the dread -of being again alone was actually a terrible shock, and thoroughly -unnerved me. - -I certainly did not as yet wish to admit that I could love another; but -it was certain that without thinking myself in love with Mademoiselle -d’Aillane, I had an extraordinarily friendly feeling for her. I had -observed her very carefully when she was not addressing me, and the more -familiar I grew with her beauty, which was of an uncommon order, the -more I was assured that I again experienced the same sensations awakened -by the adorable phantom; only this was a gentler fascination and -imparted a wonderful sense of spiritual bliss. That clear countenance -inspired absolute confidence and a sentiment of tranquil ardor -resembling faith. - -Bernard, who had no more idea of going to sleep than myself, talked with -me until two o’clock in the morning. We had lodged in the same room, no -longer “_la chambre aux dames_” nor even the one where I had been ill, -but a pretty apartment decorated in the style of Boucher, with the -rosiest and gayest of designs. There had been no more question of the -green ladies than if we had never heard them mentioned. While Bernard -was talking to me about his dear Caroline, he asked me what opinion I -had formed of his dear Félicie. At first I did not know how to answer -him. I feared to say too much or too little. I evaded the question by -asking him, in my turn, why he had spoken to me so little of her. - -“Is it possible,” I said, “that you like her less than she likes you?” - -“I would be a strange animal,” he replied, “if I did not adore my -sister. But you were so taken up with certain ideas, that you would not -even have listened to my praises of her. And then, situated as we were -at that time, my sister and myself, it would not have looked very well -for me to appear as if I were proposing her to you.” - -“And how could you have had the appearance of doing me such an honor.” - -“Ah! because a singular fact exists that I have been many times on the -point of mentioning to you and that you must have certainly already -remarked, the surprising resemblance between Félicie and the nymph of -Jean Goujon whom you were so much in love with as to bestow its features -upon your phantom.” - -“Then I was not mistaken,” I exclaimed, “mademoiselle is a beautiful -counterpart of this statue.” - -“Beautiful! thank you for her. But you see that you are impressed by -this resemblance; and that is the reason why I refrained from mentioning -it beforehand.” - -“I understand, you feared suggesting pretensions—that I cannot indulge -in.” - -“I feared to be the means of your falling in love with a young person -who could not aspire to a union with yourself; and that is all I feared. -As long as the state of Madame d’Ionis’ fortune is not known, we must -consider ourselves poor. Your father and mine fear that her husband has -left nothing, and that in appointing her universal legatee, he has only -made her the victim of a bad joke. In that case we will never accept the -little fortune that she wishes to give up to us, and to which our rights -may be disputed, as you well know. I shall marry her all the same, since -we love each other, but I will not allow her to bestow the smallest -piece of property upon me in this contract. Then, my sister, without any -dowry whatever—for my wife will not be rich enough to give her one, and -Félicie will never permit her to inconvenience herself on her account—is -resolved to become a nun.” - -“A nun, she? Never! Bernard, you must never consent to such a -sacrifice.” - -“Why not, my dear friend?” said he, with a feeling of sadness and pride -that I could well understand. “My sister has been brought up with this -idea, and she has always shown a taste for seclusion.” - -“You mustn’t think of such a thing! It is impossible for one so -accomplished not to condescend to constitute the happiness of some -honest man; it is still more impossible that no such honest man should -be found who would beg her to bestow this happiness upon him!” - -“I do not say that such may not be the case. That is a question that the -future will solve, and should Madame d’Ionis have some money, I would -not put any obstacles in the way of her giving my sister a dowry, modest -but sufficient for the simplicity of her tastes. Only, we know nothing -as yet, and in any case it would come with very bad grace from me, to -say to you, ‘I have a charming sister, who embodies your ideal.’ That -would have been as much as to say, ‘Think about it.’ It would have been -throwing a girl at your head who was much too proud ever to consent to -enter any family richer than her own, by means of a young poet’s -exaltation. Now, what I then thought, I still think, and I beg of you -seriously my dear friend, not to lay too much stress upon my sister’s -resemblance to the Naiad.” - -I was silent for a moment; then feeling, in spite of myself, that this -warning troubled me more than I could have believed, I said with brusque -sincerity: - -“Why then, my dear Bernard, did you bring me here?” - -“Because I thought my sister had left. She was to have rejoined my -father at Tours, and he was not expected here for a fortnight. Events -have frustrated my plans. I am none the less easy on my sister’s -account, knowing what kind of a man you are.” - -“Are you as easy on my account, Bernard?” said I, in a reproachful tone. - -“Yes,” he replied, with some emotion, “I am easy because you have -sufficient strength of mind to say to yourself, this: A girl of heart -and of worth has a right to be sued for by a man whose heart is free, -and she would not feel much flattered some day to discover that she only -owed this distinction to a chance resemblance.” - -I so well understood this answer that I added no more, and I resolved -not to look too much at Mademoiselle d’Aillane, lest I should deceive -myself. I even determined to go away, lest I should end by being too -much disturbed by this fatal resemblance, and my fears were justified on -the following day. - -I felt that I was falling frantically in love with Mademoiselle -d’Aillane, that the vision of the Naiad was fading in her presence, and -that Bernard perceived the fact with anxiety. - -I took my leave, pretending that my father had only allowed me -twenty-four hours liberty. I had decided to open my heart to my parents, -and to ask their permission to offer my soul and life to Mademoiselle -d’Aillane. I did so, with the greatest sincerity. The recital of my past -sufferings made my father laugh and my mother weep. However, when I had -thoroughly described the state of despair, into which at times I had -fallen, and which had made me contemplate the idea of suicide with a -species of rapture, my father grew serious again, and cried, while he -looked at my mother: - -“So, here is a child who has been a victim of monomania under our very -eyes, and we never suspected it! And you thought, _mamie_, that he was -hiding his flame for the beautiful d’Ionis who is so thoroughly alive, -while he was wasting away for the beautiful d’Ionis who is dead, if it -so be that she ever lived! Truly strange things come to pass in poets’ -brains, and I was perfectly right to mistrust this devilish poetry from -the very first. Well, let us give thanks to the beautiful d’Aillane who -resembles the Naiad and who has cured our madman. We must marry him at -any cost, and we must ask for her at once, before it is known whether -she will have a dowry, for should such be the case she will consider -herself too grand a lady to marry a lawyer. Why the deuce didn’t Madame -d’Ionis confide the case of the liquidation to me? We would know how to -act better than this old Parisian lawyer, who won’t get through with it -in six months. Do they ever really work in Paris? They mix themselves up -in politics and neglect their business.” - -The following day, my father and I returned to Ionis. Our request was -submitted to M. d’Aillane, who began by embracing me, after which he -gave his hand to my father and said, with an air of thoroughly chivalric -frankness: - -“Yes, _and thank you_!” - -I threw myself again into his arms and he added: - -“Wait, however, until my daughter consents, for above all I desire her -happiness. As to myself, I give her to you without knowing whether she -will be rich enough for you; for if she should be, I have decided that -you are noble enough for her. You are incurring every risk. _Eh bien, -mordieu!_ I wish to do as much and not fall behind the example you set -me. You have no ambition for money, and for my part I have no prejudices -in favor of nobility. So we both agree. I have your word and you have -mine. Only I insist upon my daughter deciding the matter. And my dear M. -Nivières, you must allow your son to pay his own addresses, for his love -is so recent, that it depends upon him to prove its sincerity. As to his -character and his talents, with those we are familiar, and there can be -no objections on that score.” - -I was thus allowed to become a constant visitor at the château d’Ionis, -and this was, as regards the past, the happiest time of my life. I -loved, under the ordinary conditions of life, a being above the ordinary -region of life, an angel of goodness, of sweetness, of intelligence and -of ideal beauty. - -She did not leave me without hope and freely expressed her esteem and -sympathy for me, but when I spoke of love, she seemed doubtful. - -“Do not deceive yourself,” said she, “have you never loved, before you -met me, and more than you loved me, a certain lady whose name my brother -has refused to tell me?” - -One day she said to me: - -“Do you not wear on your finger, a certain ring that you regard as a -talisman, and if I were to ask you to throw it into the fountain, would -you obey me?” - -“Certainly not,” I exclaimed, “I will never part with it, for it was you -who gave it to me.” - -“I, what do you mean by that?” - -“Yes, it was you, do not try to conceal it any longer. It was you who -enacted the role of the green lady to please Madame d’Ionis, who wished -through you to pronounce her own ruin, and who thought she had found in -me the person ‘worthy of belief,’ whose testimony her husband required. -It was you who, yielding to her idea, appeared before me in fantastical -guise, and prescribed my duty in conformity with your delicacy and pride -of soul.” - -“Well, yes, it was I!” she said. “It was I who came near destroying your -reason, and who repented bitterly on learning too late, how much you had -suffered from this romantic adventure. Once before they had tried you in -a ghost scene, with which I had nothing to do. When they saw how brave -you were, more courageous than the abbé Lamyre, upon whom Caroline had -played a similar trick, to amuse herself, they thought they could treat -you to an apparition, in which there would be nothing very terrifying. I -happened to be here, secretly, as the dowager d’Ionis would not -willingly have suffered my presence. Caroline, struck with my -resemblance to the nymph of the fountain, conceived the idea of -arranging my hair and dressing me in a similar style so that I should -deliver my oracle in due form. Although the dictum was not such as she -desired, it was nevertheless one that you have obeyed religiously, in -not forgetting the care of our honor for a single moment. I left the -next morning, and they kept me in ignorance of the fact that you had -been seriously ill here, owing to this apparition. After your quarrel -with Bernard, I was at Angers, and it was I who sent you the ring that I -caused you to find in your room. This episode was due to Madame d’Ionis, -who had two very old rings exactly alike, and who had previously -arranged everything to carry out the romance. It was she who took it -away from you during your fever, fearing that you should be too much -excited by this appearance of reality, and preferring that you should -think it all a dream.” - -“And I never thought so, never! But how did it happen that you regained -possession of this ring that was not your own?” - -“Caroline had given it to me,” said she, blushing, “because I thought it -pretty.” - -Then she hastened to add: - -“When Bernard had won your confidence, I learned at last by what sad -experiences and virtuous deeds you deserved to again behold the green -lady. I then resolved to be your sister and your friend, in order to -repair by the devotion of a life-time, an act of imprudence into which I -had allowed myself to be drawn, and thus to compensate for the trouble I -had caused you. I never expected to please you as much by daylight, as -by the light of the moon. Well, since such is the case, know that you -have not been the only unhappy one, and that”—— - -“Go on,” I exclaimed, falling at her feet. - -“Well, well,” said she, blushing still more, and lowering her voice, -although we were alone by the fountain, “know that I have been punished -for my temerity. On that day I was but a merry, unthinking child, my -part came very easily to me; and my _two sisters_, Bernard, and the abbé -Lamyre, who were listening behind these rocks, thought that I displayed -a gravity of which they would not have deemed me capable. The truth was -that in looking at you, and listening to you, I was suddenly seized with -an indescribable vertigo. To begin with, I imagined that I was really -dead. Destined for the cloister, I spoke to you as a being already set -apart from the world of the living. I lost myself in my part, and I felt -that I was becoming interested in you. You addressed me with a passion -that penetrated my very soul. If you could see my face, I also could see -yours—and when I reentered my convent, I feared the vows that I was -about to assume, and I felt that while I had tampered with your liberty, -I had yielded and lost my own.” - -As she spoke thus to me, she grew animated. The shrinking modesty of her -first avowal had given place to a burst of enthusiastic confidence, she -entwined my head in her beautiful, long, supple arms and kissed my -forehead saying: - -“I had promised you solemnly that you should see me again, and I was -broken-hearted when I made it, for I feared I could never keep it; and -still, something divine, a voice from heaven whispered in my ear—‘Hope, -for thou lovest!’” - -We were united the following month. The settlement of the affairs of -Madame d’Ionis (who had now become Madame d’Aillane) was not yet -terminated, when the Revolution broke out, which put an end to all -contesting on the part of her husband’s creditors, until a new order of -things should be established. After the “Terror,” she found herself in -easy circumstances, but not wealthy; I then had the joy and pride of -being the sole support of my wife. The beautiful château d’Ionis was -sold, and the grounds cut up. Some peasants, blinded by a stupid -patriotism, had broken the fountain, taking it for the bathing-place of -a queen. - -One day they brought me the head and an arm of the Naiad, which I bought -of the mutilator and which I still preserve religiously. But what no one -had been able to destroy, was my domestic happiness; and what had -withstood, and will continue to withstand all political tempests, -unchangeable and pure, is my love for the most beautiful and best of -women. - - - FINIS. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in - spelling. - 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NAIAD *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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